The religion of the hypocritical presbyterians, in meeter Phillips, John, 1631-1706. 1661 Approx. 45 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 13 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2003-01 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A54774 Wing P2097 ESTC R36676 15869350 ocm 15869350 104655 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A54774) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 104655) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1154:18) The religion of the hypocritical presbyterians, in meeter Phillips, John, 1631-1706. [2], 22 p. [s.n.], London printed : 1661. "An attack on Oliver Cromwell and puritanism by John Phillips, nephew of Milton, originally published in 1655, and later published with title A satyre against hypocrites"--NUC pre-1956 imprints. Caption title: The religion of the hypocritical Presbyterian. Reproduction of original in the University of Illinois (Urbana-Champaign Campus). Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. 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Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Cromwell, Oliver, 1599-1658. Presbyterians -- Anecdotes. Puritans -- Anecdotes. 2002-09 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2002-10 SPi Global Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2002-11 John Latta Sampled and proofread 2002-11 John Latta Text and markup reviewed and edited 2002-12 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion THE RELIGION OF THE HYPOCRITICAL PRESBYTERIANS in Meeter . Juvenal . Sat. 1. Si natura negat , facit indignatio versum . Juvenal . Sat. 14. — Velocius & citius nos — Corrumpunt vitiorum exempla domestica , magnis Cum subeant animos autoribus . London Printed in the Year 1661. The Religion of the Hypocritical Presbyterians . TEdious have been our Fasts , and long our Prayers ; To keep the Sabbath such have been our cares , That Cisly durst not milk the gentle Mulls , To the great damage of my Lord Mayors Fooles , Which made the greazie Catch poles swear and curse The Holy-day for want o'th'second course ; And men have lost their body's new adorning Because their cloathes could not come home that morning . The sins of Parlament have long been bawl'd at , The vices of the City have been yawl'd at , Yet no amendment ; Certainly , thought I , This is a Paradox beyond all cry . Why if you ask the people , very proudly They answer straight , That they are very godly . Nor could we lawfully suspect the Priest , Alas , for he cry'd out , I bring you Christ : And trul ' he spoke with so much confidence , That at that time it seem'd a good pretence : Then where 's the fault ? thought I : Well , I must know , So putting on clean cuffs , to Church I go . Now 'gan the Bells to jangle in the Steeple , And in a row to Church went all the People . First came poor Matrons stuck with Lice like Cloves , Devoutly come to worship their white loaves ; And may be smelt above a German mile , Well , let them go to fume the Middle-Ile . But here 's the sight that doth men good to see 't , Grave Burghers , with their Posies , sweet , sweet , sweet , With their fat Wives . Then comes old Robin too , Who although write or read he neither do , Yet hath his Testament chain'd to his wast , And his blind zeal feels out the proofs as fast , And makes as greasie Dogs-ears as the best . A new-shav'd Cobler follows him , as it hapt , With his young Cake-bread in his cloak close wrapt ; Then panting comes his Wife from t'other end O' th' Town , to hear Our Father and see a friend ; Then came the shops young fore-man , 't is presum'd , With hair rose-water'd , and his gloves perfum'd , With his blew shoo-strings too , and besides that , A riband with a sentence in his hat : The Virgins too , the fair one , and the Gypsie , Spectatum veniunt , venient spectentur ut ipsae . And now the silk'n Dames throng in , good store , And casting up their noses , to th' pew dore They come , croud in , for though the pew be full They must and will have room , I , that they wull ; Streight that she sits not uppermost distast One takes ; 'T is fine that I must be displac't By you , she cries then , Good Mistris Gill Flurt ; Gill Flurt , enrag'd cries t'other , Why ye dirt - tie piece of Impudence , ye ill-bred Thief , I scorn your terms , good Mistris Thimble-mans wife . Marry come up , cries t'other , pray forbear , Surely your Husband 's but a Scavenger , Cries t'other then , and what are you I pray ? No Aldermans wife for all you are so gay . Is it not you that to all Christenings frisk it ? And to save bread , most shamefully steal the bisket , At which the other mad beyond all law , Unsheaths her talons , and prepares to claw . And sure some gorgets had been torn that day , But that the Readers voice did part the fray . Now what a wardrobe could I put to view , The cloak-bag-breeches , and the sleek-stone shoe , The Gallimafry cloak that looks like nonsence , Now wide , now narrow , like his Master's conscience : The grogram-gown of such antiquity , That Speed could never find its pedigree ; Fit to be doted on by Antiquary's , Who hence may descant in their old Glossary's , What kinde of fardingale fair Helen wore , How wings in fashion came , because wings bore The Swan-transformed Leda to Iove's lap , Our Matrons hoping thence the same good hap ; The pent-house bever , and calves-chaudron ruff , But of this frantick fashion now enough , For now there shall no more of them be said , Lest this my ware-house spoil the French-men's trade , And now as if I were that woollen-spinster , That doth so gravely show you Sarum Minster , I le lead you round the Church from pew to pew , And shew you what doth most deserve your view , There stood the Font , in times of Christianity , But now 't is tak'n down , men call it Vanity ; There the Church-Wardens sit , hard by the dore , But know ye why they sit among the Poor ? Because they love um well for love o' th' box , Their money buys good beef , good wine , good smocks . There sits the Clerk , and there the reverend Reader , And there 's the Pulpit for the good flock-Feeder , Who in three lamentable dolefull dity's Unto their marriage-fees sing Nunc dimittis . Here sits a learned Justice , truly so Some people say , and some again say no , And yet methinks in this he seemeth wise To make Stypone yeild him an excise , And though on Sundayes Ale-houses must down , Yet wisely all the week lets them alone , For well his Worship knows that Ale-house sins Maintain himself in gloves , his wife in pins . There sits the Mayor as fat as any Bacon With eating Custard , Beef , and rumps of Capon ; And there his corpulent Brethren sit by , With faces representing gravity , Who having money , though they have no wit , They wear gold-chains , and here in green pews sit . There sit True-blew the honest Parish-masters . With Sattin Caps , and Ruffs , and Demi-casters , And faith that 's all ; for they have no rich fansies , No Poets are , nor Authors of Romances . There sits a Lady fine , painted by Art , And there sits curious Mistris Fiddle-cum-fart : There sits a Chamber-maid upon a Hassock , Whom th' Chaplain oft instructs without his Cassock : One more accustom'd unto Curtain-sins , Than to her thimble , or to handle pins . O what a glosse her forehead smooth adorns ! Excelling Phoebe with her silver horns . It tempts a man at first , yet strange to utter , When one comes near , fogh gudds , it stinks of butter . Another tripping comes to her Mistris's Pew , Where being arriv'd , she tryes if she can view Her young mans face , and straight heaves up her coats , That her sweet-heart may see her true-love knots . But having sate up late the night before To let the young man in at the back-dore , She feeleth drowzinesse upon her creeping , Turns down one proof , and then she falls a sleeping . Then fell her head one way , her book another , And surely she did dream by what we gather ; For long she had not slept , when a rude flea Upon her groyn sharply began to prey ; Straight she ( twixt sleep and waking ) in great ire , As if sh 'ad sitting been by th' Kitchin fire , Pulls up her coats with both hands , smock and all , And with both hands to scratch and scrub doth fall . Truly the Priest , though some did , saw her not , For he was praying , and his eyes were shut . Alas had he seen as much as a by-stander , Much more from 's Text it would have made him wander . That 's call'd the Gallery , which ( as you may see ) Was trimm'd and guilt in the year Fifty three . T was a zealous work , & done by two Church-wardens , Who for mis-reckoning hope to have their pardons , There Will writes short-hand with a pen of brass , Oh how he 's wonder'd at by many an asse That see him shake so fast his warty fist , As if he 'd write the Sermon 'fore the Priest Has spoke it ; Then , O that I could ( saies one ) Do but as this man does , I 'de give a crown ▪ Up goes another hand , up goe his eyes , And he , Gifts , Industry , and talents cries . Thus are they plac'd at length : a tedious work , And now a bellowing noise went round the Kirk , From the low Font , up to the Golden Creed . ( O happy they who now no eares do need ▪ ) While these cought up their morning flegm , and those Do trumpet forth the snivel of their nose ; Straight then the Clerk began with potsheard voice To grope a tune , singing with wofull noise , Like a crackt Sans-bell jarring in the Steeple , Tom Sternholds wretched Prick song to the people : Who soon as he hath plac'd the first line through , Up steps Chuck-farthing then , and he reads too : This is the womans boy that sits i' th' Porch Till th' Sexton comes , and brings her stool to Church , Then out the people yaule an hundred parts , Some roar , some whine , some creak like wheels of Carts , Such Notes that Gamut never yet did know , Nor numerous keys of Harpsicalls in a row Their Heights and Depths could ever comprehend , Now below double Ar● some descend , 'Bove Ela squealing now ten notes some flie ; Straight then as if they knew they were to high , With head-long haste down staires again they tumble ; Discords and Concords O how thick they jumble ! Like untam'd horses tearing with their throats One wretched stave into an hundred notes . Some lazie-throated fellowes thus did baule They a i hin a moy a meat uh ga have a ha me uh a ha gall a. And some out-run their words and thus they say , Too cruel for to think a hum a haw , Now what a whetstone was it to devotion To see the pace , the looks , and every motion O' th Sunday Levite when up stairs he march't , And first beheld his little band stiff starcht , Two caps he had , and turns up that within , You 'd think he wore a black pot tipt with tin , His cuffs asham'd peept only out at 's wrist , For they saw whiter gloves upon his fist , Out comes his kerchief then , which he unfolds As gravely as his Text , and fast he holds In 's wrath-denouncing hand ; then mark when he pray'd How he rear'd his reverend whites , and softly said A long most Murcifull , or O Al — Then out he whines the rest like a sad ditty , In a most dolefull recitative style , His buttocks keeping Crotchet time the while ; And as he slubbers ore his tedious story Makes it his chiefest aim his chiefest glory , T' excell the City Dames in speaking fine , O for the drippings of an old Sir loyn , Instead of Aron's oyntment for his face , When he cries out for greace instead of grace ▪ Up stept another then , how fowre his face is ! How grim he lookt , for he was one o th' Classis , And here he cries , Blood , blood , blood , destroy , O Lord ! The Covenant-breaker , with a two edg'd sword . Now comes another , of another strain , And he of Law and Bondage doth complain : Then shewing his broad teeth , and grinning wide , Aloud , Free grace , free grace , free grace , he cry'd . Up went a Chaplain then , fixing his eye Devoutly on his Patron 's gallery , Who as duty binds him , cause he eats their pyes , God blesse my good Lord and my Lady , cryes , And 's hopefull Issue . Then with count'nance sad , Up steps a man stark revelation mad , And he , Cause us thy Saints , for thy dear sake , That we a bustle in the world may make , Thy enemies now rage , and by and by He tears his throat for the fift Monarchy . Another mounts his chin , East , West , North , South , Gaping to catch a blessing in his mouth , And saying , Lord ! we dare not ope our eyes Before thee , winks for fear of telling lies . Mean while the vulgar frie sit still , admiring Their pious sentences , as all inspiring ; At every period they sigh and grone , Though he speak sometimes sense , and sometimes none : Their zeal doth never let them mind that matter , It is enough to hear the Magpy chatter ; They croud , they thrust , are crouded , and are thrusted , Their pews seem pasties , wherein they incrusted , Together bake and fry ; O patience great ! Yet they endure , though almost drown'd in sweat , Whose steaming vapours prove most singular To stew hard doctrines in , and to prepare Them , lest they should breed some ugly disease Being tak'n raw in queasie consciences . But further mark their great humility , Their tender love and mutual charity , The short man's shoulder bore the tall man's elbow , Nor he so much as call'd him Scurvy fellow , Wrath was forgot , all anger was forborn , Although his neighbour trod upon his corn ; And in a word , all men were meek and humble , Nor dar'd the Sexton , though unfeed , to grumble ▪ He honest man went with his neck a skew , Gingling his bunch of keys from pew to pew ; Good man to 's Market-day he bore no spleen , But wish'd the seven dayes had Sabbaths been ; How he worships sattin , with what a Gospel-fear He admires the man that doth a bever wear , Room , room , bear leave , he cries , then not unwilling With a Pater noster face receives the shilling . But what was more religious then to see The women in their strains of piety , Who like the Seraphins in various hews Adorn'd the Chancell and the highest pews . But now good middle-Ile-folks all give room , See where the Mothers and the Daughters come ! Behind the Servants looking all like Martyrs , With Bibles in plush jerkins and blew garters , The silver inkhorn and the writing book , In which I wish no friend of mine to look . Now must we not forget the Children too , Who with their fore-tops gay stand up i th pew , Alas-a-day ! for there is great contention , To tie this lock who hath the best invention . Well , be good children , for the time shall come , When on the Pulpit-stairs ye shall have room , There to be asked many a Question deep , By th' Parson , with his dinner , half a sleep . But now aloft the preacher 'gan to thunder , When the poor women they sit trembling under , And if he name Gehenna or the Dragon , Their faith , alas ! was little then to brag on ; Or if he did relate , how little wit The foolish Virgins had , then do they fit Weeping with watry-eyes , and making vows One to have Preachers alwaies in her house , To dine them well , and breakfast um with gelly's And caudles hot to warm their wambling belly 's , And if the cash where she could not unlock it Were close secur'd , to pick her Husbands pocket : Another something a more thrifty sinner To invite the Parson twice a week to dinner ; The other vowes a purple Pulpit-cloth With an embroyder'd Cushion , being loth When the fierce Priest his Doctrine hard unbuckles , That in the passion he should hurt his knuckles : Nay , in the Church-yard too was no small throng , And on the window-barres in swarms they hung : Nay , I could see that many Short-hand wrote , Where listning well , I could not hear a jote ; Friend , this is strange , quoth I , but he reply'd , Alas ! your ears are yet unsanctify'd . But Sermon 's done , and evening now approaches , The people walk , for none dare go in coaches ; And as they go , God , Grace , and Ordinances , Is all their chat , seem in heav'nly trances ; Thus they trim up their souls with holy words , Shaving off sin as men shave off their beards , To grow the faster ; sins , they cry , are fancies , The Godly live above all Ordinances . Now they 're at home , and have their suppers eat , When Thomas , cries the Master , come repeat ; And if the windows gaze upon the street , To sing a Psalm they hold it very meet . But would you know what a preposterous zeal They sing their Hymnes withall ? then listen well , The Boy begins , Hum , hum , hum , hum , hum , hum , hum , hum , Hum , hum , hum , hum , Thomas hum , hum , Did you enter down the ten yards of water'd-tabby to the Lady in Covent-garden ? Hum , hum , Yes Sir , hum , hum , hum , hum , hum , hum , hum , hum , hum . — Pray remember to receive the hundred pound in Gracious-street to morrow . — Hum hum hum . Hum hum hum hum Mary , hum hum hum hum , — Anon forsooth . Pray remember to rise betimes to morrow morning , you know you have a great many cloathes to sope , hum , hum hum , hum , &c. But Sunday now good night , and now good morrow , To thee oh Covenant Wednesday full of sorrow , Alas ! my Lady Anne wont now be merry , She 's up betimes and gone to Alderman-bury , Truly 't was a sad day , for every sinner Did feast a supper then , and not a dinner ; Nor men nor women wash their face to day , Put on their cloathes , and pisse , and so away ; They throng to Church just as they sell their ware , In greasie hats , and old gowns worn thread bare , Where , though th' whole body suffered tedious pain , No member yet had more cause to complain Than the poor nose , when little to its ease , A Chandlers cloak perfum'd with candle-grease , Commixing sents with a Sope-boylers breeches , Did raise a stink beyond the skill of Witches . Now steams of Garlick through the nostrils passage Made thorough-fairs , hell take their bold embassage , With these mundungus and a breath that smells Like standing-pools in subterraneal cells . Compos'd Pomanders to out-stink the Devil , Yet strange to tell , they sufferd all this evil , Nor to make water all the while would rise , The women sure had spunges 'twixt their thighs : To stir at this good time they thought was sin , So strictly their devotion kept them in . Now the Priest's elbows do the cushion knead ▪ While to the people he his Text doth read , Beloved , I shall here crave leave to speak A word , he cries and winks , unto the weak , The words are these , Make haste and do not tarry , But unto Babylon thy dinner carry , There doth young Daniel want in the Den , Thrown among Lyons by hard-harted men . Here my Beloved , and then he reaches down His hand , as if he 'd catch the Clerk by th' crown . Not to explain this pretious Text amiss , Daniel's the subject , Hunger th' object is , Which proves that Daniel was subject to hunger , But that I mayn't detain you any longer , My Brethren all prick up your ears , and put on Your senses all while I the words unbutton . Make haste , I say , make haste and do not tarry , ] Why ? my Beloved , these words great force do carry . Au ! 't is a waundrous emphatical speech , Some men Beloved , as if th' had lead i' their breech , Do walk , and some ( as snails ) do creep as fast : Truly , my Brethren , these men do not make haste . But be ye quick , 1 dear Sisters , be ye quick , And lest ye fall , take hope , hope 's like a stick . To Babylon ] Ah Babylon ! that word 's a weighty one , Truly 't was a great City , and a mighty one . Which as the learned Rider well records , Semiramis did build with brick and bords . Wicked Semiramis , Oh how I stretch ! My spirit is mightily provok'd against that wretch . Lustfull Semiramis , for will I wist Thou wert the mother of proud Antichrist . Nay , like to Levi and Simeon from antiquity , The Pope and thee were Sisters in iniquity . Strumpet Semiramis , like her was non , For she built Babylon , Ah! she built Babylon . But , 2 Brethren , be ye good as she was evil , Must ye needs go because she 's gone to the Devil ? Thy dinner carry . ] Here may we look upon A childe of God in great affliction : Why what does he aile ? Alas ! he wanteth meat , Now what ( Beloved ) was sent him for to eat ? Truly a small matter ; one a dish of pottage , But pray what pottage ? Such as a small cottage Afforded only to the Country swains , From whence , though not a man the place explains , 'T is guess'd that neither Christmas pottage 't was , Nor white-broth , nor capon-broth , good for sick maws , Nor milk-porrage , or thick pease-porrage either , Nor was it mutton-broth , nor veal-broth neither , But sure some homely stuff crum'd with brown-bread , And thus was Daniel , good Daniel fed . Truly , this was but homely fare you 'll say , Yet Daniel , good Daniel was content that day . And though there could be thought on nothing cheaper , Yet fed as well on 't as he had been a reaper . 3 Better eat any thing than not at all , Fasting , Beloved , why ? 't is prejudiciall To the weak Saints , Beloved 't is a sin , And thus to prove the same I will begin : Hunger , Beloved , why ? this hunger mauls , Au ! 't is a great mauler , it breaks stone-walls , Now my Beloved , to break stone-walls you know , Why 't is flat felony , and there 's great woe Follows that sin , besides 't is a great schism , 'T is ceremonious , 't is Pagan Judism , Judism ? why Beloved , have you ere been Where the black Dog of Newgate you have seen ? Hair'd like a Turk , with eyes like Antichrist , He doth and hath ye Brethren long entic't . Claws like a Star-chamber Bishop , black as hell , And doubtlesse he was one of those that fell . Judism I say is uglier than this dog : Truly & caetera's not so foul a hog . Thrown among Lyons by hard-harted men , ] Here Daniel is the Church , the World 's the Den. By Lyons are meant Monarchs , Kings of Nations , Those worse than heathenish abominations : Truly dear friends , these Kings and Governours , These Bishops too , nay all superiour powers , Why they are Lyons , Locusts , Whales , I Whales , beloved , Off goes our ears if once their wrath be moved ; But woe unto you Kings ! woe to you Princes ! 'T is fifty and four , now Antichrist , so saies My book must reign three daies , and three half daies , Why that is three years and a half beloved . Or else as many precious men have proved One thousand two hundred and threescore daies , Why now the time 's almost expir'd , time staies For no man ; friends then Antichrist shall fall , Then down with Rome , with Babel , down with all , Down with the Devil , the Pope , the Emperour , With Cardinals , and the King of Spain's great power ; They 'l muster up , but I can tell you where , At Armageddon , there , Beloved , there , Fall on , fall on , kill , kill , alow , alow , Kill Amaleck , and Turk , kill Gog and Magog too . But who dear friends fed Daniel thus forsak'n , Truly ( but there 's one sleeps , a would do well to awak'n . ) As 't is in th' English his name ends in Ock , And so his name is called Habacuck . But in th' original it ends in Ock For that dear sisters calls him have-a-Cock . And truly I suppose I need not fear But that there are many have-a-Cocks here : The Laud increase the number of have-a-Cocks , Truly false Prophets will arise in flocks ; But as a farding candle shut up quite In a dark Lanthorn never giveth light ; Even such are they . Ay but my brethren dear I 'am no such Lanthorn , for my horns are clear . But I shall now conclude this glorious truth With an exhortation to old men and youth : Be sure to feed young Daniel , that 's to say , Feed all your Ministers that preach and pray . First , of all cause 't is good , I speak that know so , Fourthly , cause 't is no evil for to do so . Thirdly , because 't is very good , and twelfthly , Cause there 's nought better , unlesse I my self lye . But now he smells the pyes begin to reak , His teeth water , and he can no longer speak : And now it will not be amisse to tell ye How he was troubled with a woman's belly ; For she was full of caudle and devotion , Which in her stomach raised a commotion , For the hot vapours much did damnifie , The woman went to walk in Finsbury . So though a while she was sustain'd with ginger , Yet at the length a cruel pain did twinge her ; And like as marble sweats before a shower , So did she sweat , and sweating forth did pour Her mornings draught of Sugar sops and Saffron , Into her sighing neighbours cambrick apron . At which a Lard she cry'd full sad to see The foul mishap , yet suffer'd patiently : How do you then she cry'd ? I 'me glad 't is up : Ah sick , sick , sick ; cryes one , oh for a cup Of my mint water that 's at home . As patt as might be , then the Parson cry'd , 'T is good ; one holds her head , let 't come let 't come . Still crying ; just i' th' nick , the Priest reply'd , Yea like a stream ye ought to let it flow , And then she reach'd , and once more let it go . Streight an old woman with a brace of chins , A bunch of keys , and cushion for her pins , Seeing in earnest the good woman lack it , Draws a strong-water bottle from her placket ; Well heated with her flesh , she takes a sup , Then gives the sick , and bids her drink it up . But all in vain , her eyes begin to roul , She sighs , and all cry out , alas poor soul ! One then doth pinch her cheek , one pulls her nose , Some blest the opportunity that were her foes , And they reveng'd themselves upon her face , S. Dunstans Devil was ne're in such a case . Now Priest say what thou wilt , for here 's a chat Begun of this great Empyrick , and that Renowned Doctor , what cures they have done : I like not Mayern , he speaks French sayes one . Oh sayes another , though the man be big , For my part , I know none like Dr. Trig. Nay , hold you there sayes t'other , on my life There 's none like Chamberlain the man midwife . Then in a heap , their own receipts they muster To make this gelly , how to make that plaster , Which when she heares , but that now fainting lay , Up starteth she , and talkes as fast as they . But they that did not mind this dolefull passio Followed their businesse on another fashion , For all did write , the Elder and the Novice , Me thought the Church look't like the six Clerks office . But Sermon 's done , and all the folks as fast As they can trudge , to Supper now make haste : Down comes the Priest , when a grave Brother meets him , And putting off his narrow-brim'd hat , thus greets him : Deare Sir , my Wife and I do you invite O' th' Creature with us to partake this night : And now suppose what I prepare to tell ye , The City-dame , whose faith is in the belly Of her cramm ' Priest , had all her cates in order , That Gracious-street , or Cheap-side can afford her . Lo first a Pudding ! truly 't had more Reasons Than forty Sermons shew at forty seasons . Then a Sur-loyne came in , as hot as fire , Yet not so hot as was the Priests desire . Next came a shoulder of Mutton rosted raw , To be as utterly abolisht as the Law. The next in order was a Capon plump , With an Use of Consolation in his rump . Then came a Turky cold , which in its life Had a fine tail , just like the Citizens wife . But now by 'r leave and worship too , for hark ye , Here comes the Venson put in Paste by Starky : Which once set down , there at the little hole Immediately in whips the Parsons soul. He saw his Stomacks anchor , and believ'd That now his belly should not be deceiv'd . How he leans ore the cheer toward his first mover ! While his hot zeal doth make his mouth run over . This Pastie had Brethren too , like to the Mayors , Three Christmas , or Minc'd pies , all very fair . Methought they had this Motto , Though they flirt us , And preach us down , Sub pondere crescit virtus . Apple-tarts , Fools , and strong cheese to keep down The steaming vapours from the Parsons crown . Canary too , and Claret eke also , Which made the tips of their ears and noses glow . Up now they rise , and walk to their several chairs , When lo , the Priest uncovers both his ears . Most gracious Shepherd of the Brethren all , Thou saidst that we should eat , before the Fall ; Then was the world but simple , for they knew Not either how to bake , or how to brew . But happily we fell , and then the Vine Did Noah plant , and all the Priests drank wine ; Truly we cannot but rejoyce to see Thy gifts dispenc'd with such equality . To us th' ast given wide throats , and teeth to eat ; To the women , knowledge how to dresse our meat . Make us devoutly constant in thy cup , And grant us strength when we shall cease to sup , To bear away thy creatures on our feet , And not be seen to tumble in the street . We are thy sheep , O let us feed , feed on , Till we become as fat as any Brawn . Then let 's fall to , and eat up all the cheer , Straight So be it he cryes , and calls for beer . Now then , like Scanderbeg he falls to work , And hews the Pudding as he hew'd the Turk . How he plough'd up the Beef like Forrest-land , And fum'd because the bones his wrath withstand . Upon the Mutton he fell not like a Lamb , But rather like a Wolf he tore the same . At first a Sister helpt him , but this Elfe sir , Wearying her out , she cryes , Pray help your self sir. Upon the Pastie though he fell anon , As if 't had been the walls of Babylon . Like a Cathedral down he throwes that stuff , Why , Sisters , saith he , I am pepper-proof . Then down he powres the Claret , and down again , And would the French King were a Puritan , He cryes : swills up the Sack , and I 'le be sworn Quoth he , Spain's King is not the Popes tenth horn . By this his tearing hunger doth abate , And on the second course they 'gan to prate . Then quoth Priscilla , Oh my Brother dear : Truly y' are welcome to this homely chear , And therefore eat , good brother , eat your fill , Alas for Daniel , my heart aketh still . Then quoth the Priest , Sister be of good heart ; But she reply'd good Brother eat some Tart. Rebecca then a member of the ' lection Began to talk of Brotherly affection ; For this , said she , as I have heard the wise Discourse , consisteth much in exercise ; Yet I was foolish , and would oft resist , But you had more grace , Brother , then to desist . Streight he reply'd , there is a time for all things , There is a time for great things and for small things . There 's a time to eat , and drink , and reformation , A time to empty , and for procreation ; Therefore dear Sister let us take our time , There 's reason for 't , I never car'd for Rhyme : Then truly answer'd she , 't is a good motion , And I embrace it with a warm devotion . Why you know Brother you did never prove That I was ere ingratefull for your love ; But sometimes Angels did attend your Purse , At other times you know I did you nurse , With many a secret dish of lusty meat , And presently we went and did the feat . Truly quoth Dorcas then , I saw a Vision , That we should have our foes in great derision . Quoth Martha straight , ( and then she shook the crums From off her apron white , and pickt her gums ) So I do hope , for so our Brother said ; O what a heavenly piece of work he made ! But I am ign'rant , and my memory short , I shall forget , were I to be hang'd for 't . Then quoth the Priest , The cheer that here we see , Is but an Emblem of Mortality . The Oxe is strong , and glories in his strength , Yet him the Butcher knocks down , and at length We eate him up . A Turkie's very gay , Like wordly people clad in fine array ; Yet on the Spit it looks most piteous , And we devoure it , as the wormes eate us . Then full of sawce and zeale up steps Elnathan , [ This was his name now , once he had another , Untill the Ducking-pond made him a Brother ] A Deacon and a Buffeter of Sathan . Truly , quoth he , I know a Brother dear , Would gladly pick the bones of what 's left here . Nay he would gladly pick your pockets too Of a small two pence , or a groat , or so , The sorry remnants of a broken shilling ; Therefore I pray you friends be not unwilling . But as for me , 't is more than I do need , To be charitable both in word and deed ; For as to us , the holy Scriptures say , The Deacons must receive , the Lay-men pay . Why Heathen folks that do in Taverns stray , Will never let their friends the reckning pay . And therefore pour your charity into the bason , Brethren and Sisters eke , your coats have lace on . Why Brethren in the Lord , what need you care For six pence ? we 'll one hour enhance our ware . Your six pence comes again , nay there comes more ; Thus Charity 's th' encreaser of your store . Truly well spoke , then cry'd the Master-feaster , Since you say so , here , you shall have my tester : But for the women , they gave more liberally , For they were sure to whom they gave , and why : Then did Elnathan blink , for he knew well What he might give , and what he might conceal . But now the Parson could no longer stay , 'T is time to kisse , he cryes , and so away . At which the sisters , once th' alarum tak'n , Made such a din as would have serv'd to wak'n A snoring brother , when he sleeps at Church ; With bagg and baggage then they gan to march ; And ticled with the thoughts of their delight , One sister to the other bids Good night . Good night quoth Dorcas to Priscilla , she , Good night dear sister Dorcas unto thee . In these goodly good nights much time was spent , And was it not a holy complement ? At length in steps the Parson , on his breast Laying his hand , A happy night of rest Reward thy labours sister : yet ere we part , Feel in my lips the passion of my heart . To another straight he turn'd his face , and kist her , And then he cryes , All peace be with thee Sister . To another in a godly tune he whines , Dear Sister from thy lip I le take my tines . With that he kist , and whispers in her eare , The time when it should be , and the place where . Thus they all part , the Parson followes close , For well the Parson knoweth where he goes . This seem'd a golden time , the fall of sin , You 'd think the thousand years did now begin , When Satan chain'd below should cease to roar , Nor durst the wicked as they wont before Come to the Church for pastime , nor durst laugh To hear the non-plust Doctor faigne a cough . The Devil himself , alas ! now durst not stand Within the switching of the Sextons wand , For so a while the Priests did him pursue , That he was fain to keep the Sabboth too , Lest being taken in the Elders lure , He should have paid his crown unto the poor ; And lest he should like a deceiver come 'Twixt the two Sundays inter stitium , They stuft up Lecturers with texts and straw , On working-dayes to keep the Devil in awe . But strange to think , for all this solemn meeknesse , At length the Devil appeared in his likenesse , While these deceits did but supply the wants Of broken unthrifts , and of thread-bare Saints . Oh what will men not dare , if thus they dare Be impudent to Heaven , and play with Prayer ! Play with that fear , with that religious awe Which keeps men free , and yet is mans great law : What can they but the worst of Atheists be , Who while they word it 'gainst impiety , Affront the throne of God with their false deeds , Alas , this wonder in the Atheist breeds . Are these the men that would the Age reforme , That Down with Superstition cry , and swarme This painted Glasse , that Sculpture to deface , But worship pride , and avarice in their place . Religion they bawle out ; yet know not what Religion is , unlesse it be to prate . Meeknesse they preach , but study to controule ; Money they 'd have , when they cry out the soul. And angry , will not have Our Father said , 'Cause it prayes not enough for daily bread . They meet in private , and cry Persecution , When Faction is their end , and State-confusion : These are the men that plague and over-run Like Goths and Vandalls all Religion : Every Mechanick either wanting stock Or wit to keep his trade must have a flock : The Spirit , cryes he , moveth me unto it , And what the Spirit bids , must I not do it ? But having profited more than his flock by teaching , And stept into authority by preaching For a lay Office , leaves the Spirits motion And streight retreateth from his first devotion . But this he does in want , give him preferment , Off goes his gown , God's call is no determent . Vain foolish people , how are ye deceiv'd ? How many several sorts have ye receiv'd Of things call'd truths , upon your backs lay'd on Like saddles for themselves to ride upon ? They rid amain , and hell and Satan drove , While every Priest for his own profit strove . Can they the age thus torture with their lyes , Low'd bellowing to the world Impieties , Black as their coats , and such a silent fear Lock up the lips of men , and charm the ear ? Had that same holy Israelite been dumb , That fatall day of old had never come To Baals Tribe , and thrice unhappy age While zeal and piety like mask'd in rage And vulgar ignorance . How we do wonder Once hearing , that the heavens were fir'd to thunder Against assailing Gyants , surely men , Men thought could not presume such violence then : But 't was no Fable , or if then it were , Behold a sort of bolder mortals here , Those undermining shifts of knavish folly , Using alike to God and men most holy ; Infidels who now seem to have found out A suttler way to bring their ends about Against the Deity then op'nly to fight By smooth insinuation and by slight : They close with God , seem to obey his Lawes , They cry alowd for him and for his cause . But while they do their strict injunctious preach , Deny in actions what their words do teach . O what will men not dare , if thus they dare Be impudent with Heaven , and play with Prayer ! Yet if they can no better teach than thus , Would they would onely teach themselves , not us : So while they still on empty out-sides dwell , They may perhaps be choakt with husk and shell ; While those , who can their follies well refute , By a true knowledge do obtain the fruit . FINIS . Notes, typically marginal, from the original text Notes for div A54774-e140 Ingredients that compound a Cong●egation . Maids beware of sleeping at Church . Hang it . Robert Wisdom's delight . Practice of Piety . Hey-day ! Iack-a-dandy . To be heard of men . To the Tune of S. Margarets Chimes . Behold the zeal of the people . The Exposition . 1 Vse . Not like an anchor . Babel battered . 2 Vse . Would he have been so content ? 3 Vse . Several Reasons . Description of Antichrist . And hey then up go we , ☞ The Doctrine of Generation . For Ministers may be Cuckholds . Vse of Exhortation . Motives 1. 4. 3. 12. Hunger a great enemy to Gospel duty . A Crop-sick sister . A very great Creature-comfort . A great cry , and a little . wooll . A great sign of grace . Bill of fare . Grace before meat Much good may do you Sir. Christian forgiveness . No Grace after meat . Nothing beyond ingratitude . A man may love his brother , but Not better than himself . Christian Liberty . Nere a profane kiss among all these .