THE MONK UNVEILED: Or, A Facetious Dialogue, Discovering the several Intrigues, and subtle Practices, together with the lewd and scandalous Lives of Monks, Friars, and other pretended Religious Votaries of the Church of ROME.  
Written by an Eminent PAPIST in French.  
Faithfully TRANSLATED by C. V. Gent.  
LONDON, Printed for Jonathan Edwin, at the Three Roses in Ludgate-street, 1678.   

TO THE READER.  
IF Monks are such as they would seem to be, they would make of this Book a Meritorious Subject: For in case what it contains be untrue (as they will not fail to say) they ought to rejoice, by having occasion to suffer the being ill-spoken of and calumniated, and to exercise that Patience which they Preach unto us with so fair a zeal: But in case it contains truth (as indeed it doth) they will receive this small mortification with the same Humility and Resignation which they have so often in their mouths: But as they are nothing less than what they seem to be; they will also act quite contrary to what ought to be expected from them. At the very moment then of this Dialogues appearing, you will see them running up and down on all sides, to learn who is its Author; They will say, that this Book is full of Falsities, Impostures, Impieties, and Insolences; that the Author is an Atheist, a Libertine, a wicked man, a Heretic, an Excommunicated person. This being their manner of speech, What is to be done in this case? As for my part, I declare, and take God to witness, that I am a Roman Cat●olick; that I honour with a deep respect the Religious Orders, if there be any that have maintained themselves according to the holiness of their Institution, and of their Rule, which I wish with all my soul, to see them in the way which the Holy Patriarches have traced out to them; whereof they have kept the Habit and the Name: And it is with great trouble, that I see the misrule and disorders which are slipped in amongst them; which I do not write for any hatred, but to make appear to them, their Artifices are common; that they now abuse Fools and silly Women, and that by the grace of God, there are found out persons, who know Wolves under Sheeps-clothing. Peradventure some scrupulous person or other, will find fault, that I cause to let slip from this secularised Monk some words a little free; but besides, that it happens not often from a man coming out of a Cloister. The Reader may take notice if he please, that I imitate the Limner, who drawing a Picture, aims naturally to represent; and who would offend the Rules of his Art, and of true resemblance, if he caused us to behold a Hector in a serious countenance. I question not the Monks finding many faults in this little Book; neither am I so vain to believe the same exempt from any: Nay, I allow that therein they may justly discover an infinite number; yet let them reckon for defaults, the omission of an infinite of Stories and Intrigues, which they know are wanting in it.   

The MONK turned Secular: Or, a Dialogue between Florimond a Country-Curate, and Patrick a Secularised Monk.  Florimond. 
GOD be praised, dear Patrick, you are now become one of us; I did never embrace you with so much joy and constancy, as I do at this time.  Patrick. 
Neither so closely; for this habit bulks not out so much as the other did.  Flor. 
In truth it becomes you mighty well; O God, how glad am I to behold you with your Hood off!  Patr. 
You will now trust me; for the reason why you did not so before was, because that men looking through Grates aught not to be trusted.  Flor. 
It was for that reason that I told you, that I never did embrace you with so much confidence.  Patr. 
Blessed be God, that hereafter some trust may be reposed in me; for it is a common saying, That a Woman's forepart ought to be mistrusted, a Mules hinder part, but a Monk all over.  Flor. 
Let us sit down, we shall be more at our ease; it must be owned, that that sort of people are very much cried out against.  Patr. 
Nay rather say, that they are in good repute and well dealt with, in being suffered to live; for if they were known for what they are, and that all their wickednesses, all their shirking tricks which they act within, and without their Cloisters, were made public, that cursed brood would be buried under the very ruins of their Convents.  Flor. 
You say too much.  Patr. 
I do not declare the hundred thousand part of what is real, neither of what they deserve.  Flor. 
Therefore do I not repent for not having made myself a Monk: For I will tell you freely, that even since I have been possessed of my Benefice, I had a design to have betaken myself to some Religious Fellowship, to pass the remainder of my days in tranquillity and devotion.  Patr. 
The Lord bless you.  Fl. 
I did propose to myself things to be found amongst them which are not to be found amongst Countrypeople; as the conversing with learned men, frequent examples of virtue, which keeps a man from falling into that lukewarmness, that languishing of spirit which befalls Country Ecclesiastical persons by being alone: In short, the union which is within Religious Houses is a great help.  Patr. 
What union in Religious Houses? have you not read what Ariosto says in his fourteenth Canto, that discord was found by St. Michael within a Monastery. What a good man are you for having had such thoughts? I am vexed that a person of wit and reason, like yourself, should be able to fall into that Error; is it possible that you have believed that Union, Tranquillity and Devotion was to be found within a Cloister, together with examples of virtue?  Flor. 
Such were my Conceptions.  Patr. 
Alas poor man, where were your thoughts? I would have you to know that a Monk's Cloister is a foul coil, a refuge for Drones; that it is the receptacle for all Vices, a sink of noisome filthiness, and of all imaginable Villainies.  Flor. 
Ha, ha.  Patr. 
'Tis the School of Impudence, Hypocrisy, Impostors, Knavery, Infidelity, Impiety, nay of Atheism itself.  Flor. 
What say you?  Patr. 
It is a gulf of all manner of Profanations, Sacrileges, and of all the abominations which are possible to be committed.  Flor. 
Fie, say not so:  Patr. 
I speak truth.  Flor. 
I did indeed believe that Religious persons had not preserved themselves according to their first Institution; that they had lost very much of that purity and fervour which did at first animate them; that they were jealous the one of the other, and very much biased; that they did sometimes give occasion of scandal, and that they often were the occasion of evil talk: But I should never have believed that they were so horribly wicked.  Patr. 
What, not so horribly wicked? He that would go about to describe the insolency, lewdness, and debaucheries of those lost and abandoned persons, their turnings and windings, their goings abroad, and returns home, their circuits, pretences, and the feign whereof those Foxes make use, to introduce themselves into Houses, to catch and delude people; I say, whosoever would put in writing the Cheats, stratagems, and shirking tricks which these Apes, these furred Cats cover with a Religious habit, more Volumes might be made of them, than all the Booksellers of Paris are Masters of.  Flor. 
Hyperboles! you are in wrath, you would do them a mischief.  Patr. 
I say whosoever would bring to light their Intrigues, Commerce, Visits, Infamous Practices, loose Entertainments, Love-letters, their speaking with a double meaning, the baits they lay to women's Chastity, and to Religious Maids; the same would employ for ten years all the Printing-Houses of Europe. Evil befall those who harken to them, or believe them; and to those who having young Wives or Daughters, receive them within their Houses under any pretention whatsoever.  Flor. 
What a flood of passion, how you handle them, poor Monks! you may say of them what you please; but for all that they do very much edify the people, were it but by their outward appearance, as their modest Habit, Austerities, Vows, Retirements: nay, their very Convents and their Wards do inspire Devotion into us; at entrance whereof you behold Crosses, Images, devices of Charity, Humility, Mortification, Austerity, Self-denial, and of Penitence.  Patr. 
Yea, at entrance of their Convents and Wards may be seen what the Prophet Ezekiel saw at one of the doors of the Temple of Jerusalem, Idolum zeli in ipso introitu, the figure and appearance of Zeal at entrance: but have you taken notice of that which the very same Prophet says in the same place? Fili fode parietem, & videbis abominationes pessimas quas isti faciunt. The walls of their Wards are to be bored through to behold what is acted within, and there will only appear hatreds, parties, leagues, quarrels, briberies, disorders, debaucheries, jollity and drunkenness.  Flor. 
Ha, ha.  Patr. 
There may be beheld Epicurism and Impiety, under the veil of Devotion; vanity, pride, and ambition, under the cloak of Humility; riches and abundance under the coat of Poverty; daintiness, gluttony and sensuality, under the habit of Mortification and Penitence. Within may be found Vagabonds cloistered up, solitary persons keeping Company; Bald-pated men, Gallants; dirty fellows Courtiers; poor men delicious, beggars rich; and voluptuous Satyrs turned Minions: fair-spoken regular persons may be seen without rule, and Religious persons without Religion.  Flor. 
Your Antithesis causes me to laugh.  Patr. 
People will be surprised to see persons (professing sacred Vows) devoted to all manner of Wickednesses; Monks assiduously running about the Streets, men who have seemingly quitted the world to be continually a-visiting: Thrusting themselves into Houses, and rendering themselves Mediators, Solicitors, Matchmakers, Contrivers of Wills, Gifts, Legacies, Foundations, Burials, Annuities, informing themselves of all things, meddling and intermeddling everywhere.  Flor. 
Nothing makes me so much against them as that.  Patr. 
In fine you will take it for a scandalous thing to see under a Hood, and a penitential bag, persons more dissolute, more insolent, and more lost, than Ruffians and rude Soldiers.  Flor. 
In case you had Thunder at your command, you would reduce to ashes both Monks and Friaries. In truth you surprise me, I had never believed the like of persons who pretend themselves to be the very Cream of Religion.  Pat. 
They Cream! whip such Cream.  Flor. 
Notwithstanding there is one thing amongst them which serves for good example, and that is to see their Churches so well set-out, and that two or three times a Month full Indulgences are to be had there; that frequent Preaching may be heard there, and the holy Sacrament often exposed, and that there is Music and Blessing.  Patr. 
Alas poor man! how will you be able to discern the motives and intentions of those Impostors? They know the inclinations of the Vulgar, who are taken with exterior things and appearances, and run after sights, being led by their senses; lovers of State-Novelties, Solemnities, Beautifying, Adorn of Gilt-things, Pictures, Harmony, who as Geese follow one another; delight to pray amongst a multitude, in a crowd, and in company.  Flor. 
'Tis against what the Son of God teaches us; who saith, When thou hast a mind to pray enter into thy Closet, and the door being shut, pray to thy Father in secret, and he who sees thee in secret, will reward thee openly.  Patr. 
You say right; these seducers then making use of the weakness of the People, do entice them by such things as they know are relishing, and draw them by seeming devotion and holiness; allure them by Indulgences, by Chapels garnished and set out with Images; where Vows are rendered to Thighs, Legs, Feet, Arms, Hands, Hearts, Eyes, Ears, Heads and Breasts of Wax. They call and recall these good Idiots by the jingling of Bells, stay them by Vespers and Music, by the exposing and blessing of the holy Sacrament.  Flor. 
Are not those holy things?  Patr. 
Truly such are holy things, as the beautifying of Churches and Chapels, Indulgences, Sermons, Vespers, Exposing and Blessing of the holy Sacrament. Neither do I blame that, 'tis the intention and the end for which the same is done.  Flor. 
'Tis to incite People to Devotion.  P. 
And to put Money in the Basin.  F. 
How Money in the Basin?  P. 
Did you never take notice that on solemn days, which are very frequent with them, when there are Indulgences, Sermons, Music, Exposing and Blessing the holy Sacrament; that there is also at the Entrance of their Churches a great Basin on the Table, covered with a Carpet, in which Basin People put Money.  F. 
It is true.  P. 
And it is for the causing of this Basin to ring that the Bells are rung; it is this Basin that causes the writing to be stuck up at the door for Indulgences; it is for this Basin sake that the Altars are adorned, that there is Preaching, that the holy Sacrament is exposed, and the Blessing is given; it is at the sound of this Basin, that the intentions of those Brothers is a great deal better known than by that of the Bells; it is to make them Masters of the People's Money, that they set out their Altars; it is to suborn weak spirits, that they adorn their Churches; it is to bring gain to themselves that they invite the People to get Indulgences; in such wise that though their pretention is the honour and glory of God, self-interest is the true motive. They would put upon their Altars for a Motto these words of the Mass, Ad laudem & gloriam nominis tui, ad utilitatem quoque nostram, to God's praise, but our own profit.  F. 
You are pleasant, must not every one live by his own Trade?  P. 
Is it the Trade of Religious men to make Religion bend to their interests, to make bats of holy things to get money, to make of their Churches a Fair of St. Germains.  F. 
I should not so much mislike the beautifying of their Churches as those frequent and excessive Indulgences, and those Chapels so much waxified.  P. 
Are they not very pleasant to have Indulgences almost for all the days of the year? I should counsel them to suffer their writings to remain always posted at their Church's door, like a Sign, or a Tavern-Bush. Read their Books of Brotherhood, you will see for Sunday 18000 years' Indulgence, and as many Quarantines; for Monday full Indulgence, Tuesday 10000 years' Indulgence, Wednesday the same as well as Thursday and Friday; for Saturday full Indulgence, Sunday 48000 years, Monday 10000, etc. But I believe these Indulgences are nothing but the written Tables surrounded with leaves without fruit, as well as their Chapels are nothing else but miracles of Wax, and are laden only with the workmanship of their Impostors.  F. 
I know not what to say thereof, you ought to know it better than I: if that be true they are great abuses. But you say nothing of the Sermons they preach at home and elsewhere; you cannot disallow that the Religious Fellowships are the Nurseries of Preachers, who disperse themselves throughout out the whole Christian World; that it is from thence that Labourers are drawn out, to be sent into the Lord's Harvest; that they are the Trumpets of the Gospel, animated by the Preachings of the Holy Ghost, which beat down the Bulwarks of sin, even as the Israelites Trumpets did beat down the walls of the City of Jericho.  P. 
It is a pretty Elogium which you give them, if they were sensible of this you should have Letters adopting you Son, and you should be made partaker of all Masses, Oblations, Sacrifices, Orisons, Conserts, Lessons, Prayers, Meditations, Blessings, Feasts, Watchings, Abstinences, Mortifications, Austerities, Macerations, Penitences, Pilgrimages; Hairy shirts, Disciplines, and other pious works, which are either acted or not acted by them.  F. 
Let us forbear jesting and agree, that I have said nothing concerning their Preachers, which is not very true.  P. 
Yea, especially when you have called them Trumpets; for that sort of People, no more than such Instruments, never sound unless they are full of wind; but it is not the same which blew in the Assembly when the Holy Ghost came down on the Apostles. Is it possible, that the noise they make hath so much stunned you, that you have not been able to perceive what moves their bawl; that you have not been able to see, it is interest and vanity, which raise these Preachings, to make use of the terms of Ecclesiasticus; that those two motives make up the stairs, and steps which conduct them to the Pulpit; that they only mount that eminent place to be seen; that their tongue stirs to no other end than to be the occasion of the stirring of their Jaws; in short that they only belabour with their hands to have them filled.  F. 
You are a dangerous man.  P. 
For I would have you know, that as there is nothing which so much raiseth the Religious Fraternities, and particularly Religious persons, as doth the employment of Preaching; so they study and apply themselves for the most part thereto, but in such a manner as in no wise to be profitable in the Churches, as they never do. For even as they are form to live in Love, in Hypocrisy, and with Confidence, which are the three Characters of a Monkish spirit; so are they instructed to Preach as they live, that is to say, to make plausible Discourses, and to accompany them with wry faces, and to spread themselves forth with impudence. Who would not laugh to see these Apes come into the Pulpit with a Stoical Countenance and Gravity; who after their having fiercely beheld their Auditors, they pull and draw themselves up together, biting their lips? after having methodically put down their Hoods, they raise up their eyes to Heaven with an Hypocritical Countenance? who after their having made a great sign of the Cross, they hold forth and expound with a premeditated Tone, which I can hardly call God's word. But who would not be in wrath to behold their several changes and disguises, when by their prating they choke that holy Word? who would not murmur to see how they cause that daughter of Heaven to appear, that Messengeress of God in the Pulpit, as if she were upon a Theatre, a Courtesan and Strumpet, or like unto a Comedianess, who would not tremble through spite to see them mask up that holy Minerva, come forth of the brains of Jupiter. What do I say mask her? for they curl her up, and paint her like unto a wanton Venus.  F. 
You mount the great horse, and are going to preach, unless you look to it.  P. 
I cannot contain, when I think upon those abuses. Is it not a ridiculous thing to behold a begging Monk who ought to preach the Fundamental Truths of our Religion & Salvation, Curling his Cord, in accent and gesture aiming at a Parisian air, acting the art of begging, and playing the Hypocrite all at once? But that which makes me yet the more inveterate, is, that their affected impertinence meets with approbation from the people, and that the word of God cannot be tasted unless it be perfumed & adorned with all the flowers of Rhetoric, and the Academical Graces. What fruit think you then can proceed from persons who aim at nothing but to please!— Who care not for gaining Souls, but Ears; who in preaching endeavour not to persuade people any thing, save that they preach well! If they are labourers as you have alleged, are they not labourers in iniquity? If they are Trees drawn out of the Nurseries of Cloisters, are not they such, which bring forth naughty fruit, and which our Saviour condemns to be rooted up? If they are Trumpets (seeing you call them so) are they not of that naughty brass to which St. Paul compares himself, 1 Cor. 13. 1. and to which may justly be compared all such whose Sermons are void of charity, yea even although in Eloquence they went beyond the very Angels?  F. 
Well, let that pass; but what have you to say concerning their Vespers, the exposing and blessing of the holy Sacrament, which you seemingly tax?  P. 
God forbid, but when I see the holy Sacrament exposed at the upper-end of their Tabernacles, I should think that God is there, as heretofore he was on Mount Calvary.  F. 
That is a good thought.  P. 
I mean, that he is there between two Thiefs.  F. 
You are wicked.  P. 
And in the Blessing which they do give, I mark this, that even as when we would have some body to remember something, it is the last thing you charge him withal, and that you recommended to him; so also these devout Fathers, as they bless and take leave of the people, make to them the sign of the Cross, by that sign signifying to them not to forget them at their return.  F. 
You are a pleasant Interpreter.  P. 
Why do you imagine, that their Bells tingle so much, and so often? it is only to allure the devout female sex, under the pious pretence of Vespers, which being ended, you may behold some of these Rommagrobis of Monks coming forth, who greedily accost Women, and after a small chat lead them in dark Chapels. It is there where there are bad actions and prating, and praying by feeling as well as after Vespers.  F. 
What do you mean by those Vespers? nay, I comprehend you, I understand you, you are malicious.  P. 
I beg your pardon for this Equivocation, tending a little to Libertinism; sometimes some Cloyster-saying slips from me, I did believe myself still a Monk. But let us speak freely, and without equivocation; their Churches are now like unto that Temple of Athens, which was dedicated to Impudence, or otherwise like that of Corinth, which was consecrated to Venus. It is in these Churches where all shame is lost; it is there where there is public wooing; it is there where more Incense is given to Ladies than to Divinity itself.  F. 
What, is this profanation seen in all Churches? it is only where the Monks inhabit.  P. 
I own that wheresoever men pray Pell-mell with Women there is prattling. But it is evident that there is less elsewhere, than where these reverend Fathers inhabit.  F. 
What would you have? they are obliged by interest to this toleration. In case they would rectify this abuse, they would render their Church's deserts; they must be complaisant to draw and entertain people.  P. 
It is well spoken, you begin to know them.  F. 
In truth this Toleration in Churches is scandalous; I do not believe that Huguenots and Turks do the same.  P. 
Huguenots are modest in their Sermons. You see no Libertinism in the Turks Mosques; Women are separated from the Men, and sit in so close a place that no body can see them.  F. 
I was some days since a-reading, that the Muscovites, who are Schismatics, when they have enjoyed Women, dare not enter into the Churches, but keep without, till they have bathed and washed themselves.  P. 
Quite contrary do our Christians, for they enter into Churches to enjoy Women.  F. 
What a shame it is!  P. 
That is nothing; what would you say, if you had seen Monks snatch Women in the Church, and in that holy place satisfy their brutal lasciviousness?  F. 
Is it possible! I would to God it were untrue, or that it had happened but once.  F. 
What I say you so? I cannot believe it, that Religious men do so in Churches; oh God?  P. 
I am amazed to see you surprised at this, seeing you have read the factum of the Nuns of St. Clare of Provence against the Cordeliers; and there are things no less abominable.  F. 
It is true; but I did only believe Cordeliers capable of such excesses.  P. 
What! only Cordeliers guilty? why than you think the Carmelites, the Augustine's, Jacobines, more chaste!  F. 
At least they are not so much defamed.  P. 
It is then to be feared that it would be a hard matter to persuade you, that the other Orders, who appear or bear the name of Reformed, as Capuchins and Recolets, Pickpuces, Minims, Carmelites, Barefooted Augustine's, were capable of the like abuses.  F. 
Yea surely.  P. 
Nevertheless there are Religious persons of these Orders, who have acted these horrid Sacrileges.  F. 
What, of all those Orders?  P. 
I do not say of all, but I know Religious men of three of those Orders which I have named, who have done what I have acquainted you withal, and I abhor to speak it.  F. 
O God but can they find Women loose enough to proceed so far?  P. 
Is it a thing to be admired at? nay hold it for a certain truth, that when a Woman hath once abandoned herself to a Monk, she is capable of all debauchery. Those Devils take from them all sense of Religion and fear, corrupt their minds by infernal and diabolical maxims, entertain them with discourses full of filth and nastiness; and in truth make them at last a subject capable of all manner of abomination.  F. 
They ought all to be burnt.  P. 
You are rigorous; then abundance of wood must be made use of. What will you have? they satisfy themselves where they can.  F. 
What in the Church!  P. 
The Children of that offspring have no need of Baptism, for they are begotten Children of the Church.  F. 
I cannot endure jesting on this subject; but have they so small a respect for holy places? what are they not guilty of acting elsewhere?  P. 
Ha, ha, elsewhere. They are Dogs, Goats, Monsters of Adultery, and go beyond whatever Petronius, Bocacius, or Aretine, have described. Where do you imagine they go for the most part, when you behold them going with so much fierceness and haste along the street? they are running after some prey, and need only to be followed to discover a debauched house.  F. 
What say you then! Is it possible that they dare presume to appear there, with those great Beads at their Girdle? where Crucifixes hang, Deaths-heads, Relics, Medals, and Caravaca-Crosses? It was a crime punishable by death to carry into lewd places, Money or Coin wherein the Effigies of Augustus Caesar was engraven.  P. 
You discourse of what was done in King Guillemots time; 'tis now a common thing. And those who frequent those lewd places, say that for one Layman four Monks may be found there; which makes me that I cannot forbear laughing when I think upon the Patriarch Jacob's Vision.  F. 
What, the Vision of the Ladder?  P. 
No; 'tis that wherein he beheld speckled and particoloured males covering females.  F. 
Fie, fie, we ought to be very serious in the applications we make of Scriptures and holy things. I call to mind with horror, with what profaneness a Monk told me, that the Creed did expressly declare the sins of the flesh pardonable; for instead of saying [Remissionem peccatorum, carnis Resurrectionem] this impudent fellow confounding the words of the Creed, did say, [Remissionem peccatorum carnis] the remission of the sins of the flesh.  P. 
God forbid that I should make any such use of Jacob's Vision, wherein that Patriarch relates, Vidi ascendentes super faeminas masculos diversorum Colorum. But in good faith, it is not likely that Jacob saw Jacobins, Carmelites, Friars of St. Augustine's Order (who are all a particoloured sort of people) upon women.  F. 
In that you had a pleasant thought. If that which the Patriarches saw in their time, was a figure of what was to come to pass in ours, I make no doubt but that the Scripture intended to describe our speckled and particoloured Monks and Friars. But to our purpose; Is that true which was lately told of a Monk, who went to visit a sick woman, and who? etc.  P. 
I know what you mean, 'twas an Augustin Friar, with a long pair of sleeves; pray press me not to name him.  F. 
I do not very well know that story, I pray oblige me with the relation of it.  P. 
There was a good Fellow, who was in love with a very handsome young Widow, who daily came to Mass in his Church, which was not far from her habitation; and he being a Sacristan, upon his first beholding her, failed not, with a smiling countenance, and his head half out of his Hood to go to her, and to acquaint her that Mass would soon begin, and that for her sake he would forward it. These small kindnesses were a means that at his passing through the Church, procured him now and then some favourable looks, which proceeded in that fair one, rather from civility, than from any inclination she had for that Baldpate. But he took it in another sense: and this Lady falling sick, and having for three or four days been absent from Mass, this good Father missing her makes an inquiry, and having understood the reason, fails not to give her a visit, and to assure her how much he was concerned for her Indisposition, and to proffer her such small services as he was capable of; withal acquainting her, that if she pleased, he would bring her some Relics from their Church, and some of St. Nicholas' small loaves, by which several people had received ease.  F. 
All things are well spoken of a Monk, and you set him out so well, that methinks I see him.  P. 
And you may imagine, this Woman could not choose but thank him, and tell him, she was most infinitely obliged to him for the care he had of her health; and that she did most willingly accept his kind proffer. But Father (says she) pray what rare Relics have you? We have, says he, the holy Thorn, one of St. Margaret's Bones, one of Charles Barroness' Hose. These are curious Relics, replies the sick Woman; but what virtues hath St. Nicholas Bread? So many, says the Monk, that sometimes several thousands of poor people have been cured by it of the Ague in one City or Country. It quells the rage of evil spirits, it quencheth fire, and preserves houses from an irreparable conflagration, calms the wind, and the waves of the Sea, diverts hail and tempests from fields, and helps to defend from thunder, nay, it makes a person Musquet-proof.  F. 
It would be good to make of it Ammunition-bread for the Soldiers.  P. 
Be patient; it makes barren Women fruitful, and preserves the fruit of the womb after conception, and eases their pains in Childbirth. It maintains in health whosoever eats of it, it keeps from ill luck those who carry it about them; it brings away from the tender throats of young Children the bones of fish, bits of glass, needles, nails and the like, which they may have swallowed unawares. It cures all Fevers, nay evil and pestilent, also Epidemical ones, and the most incurable diseases; preserves from all poisons, delivers whole Cities, nay Provinces from the Plague. In short, it operates many other Miracles of the like nature. Father (says the good Woman) how much shall I be obliged to you, if you will be so kind as to bring me a little of that blessed bread, and of those holy Relics? To which he agreed, and in the morning comes and brings I know not what sowed up in a fine bit of Taffety, tied with a Ribbon at the end; and after a small Preamble made in commendation of those Relics, begged leave of the Lady to tie them about her neck; then presenting them to her to kiss, he pulled the pin from her smock, and puts this mystical remedy between her two breasts.  F. 
O the Knave! she was a weak Woman.  P. 
Hitherto there was no great harm; but these breasts being uncovered, did so far move him, that he cried out, Ah Madam, what a many beauties! must I receive a wound from the same place where I intended to bring help! O Madam, I beseech you suffer me, at which words he kissed her breast, she not being able to hinder him.  F. 
O the thief!  P. 
That was not all.  F. 
You are going to tell me some Roguery.  P. 
I must acquaint you with the matter, how it was acted: there is no harm in making vice to appear in all its colours, to cause horror of it: why then this devout Father coming upon the bed would have this woman to touch another kind of Relics.  F. 
O the infamous fellow! O the villain!  P. 
This caused the Woman to cry out, and my good Monk too; alas Madam, alas Madam, have compassion on me. But hearing some body coming up, he was forced to lose his prize; and as if nothing had happened, thrusting in again his head into his Hood, and holding his Beads in one hand, running to the Maid who was come up by reason of the noise, he told her very soberly, That her Lady had just now felt a violent pang, which had caused her to cry out, and that she should be very careful of her; in the mean while, says he, I will go and desire our Fathers to pray God for her: So my Pilgrim saved himself.  F. 
O Tempora, O mores!  P. 
You cause me to laugh with your Exclamations. These are small matters, I could tell you other Stories, which would make you cry out at another-guess rate.  F. 
But is not a Religious person punished when he is guilty of the like follies?  P. 
Yea verily, when it's known; wherefore it ought to be taken notice of, that whatever misdemeanours Monastical Order fall into they still strive to preserve the outside, that is to say, to maintain themselves in esteem and reputation, especially the Mendicants, whose Revenue is partly assigned upon the benevolence of the public; so that when some scandalous fault is committed, the same is punished, because that scandal has that of evil with it, in respect of Monks, that if people's charity be cooled their Kitchen grows cold, and 'tis a stumbling block which breaks the pots and pans; which being a common interest amongst all Religious persons, the Delinquents miss not to be cried out against and to be chastised. Nevertheless with this Distinction, that in case it be a poor fellow, whose talon reaches not to bring Grist to the Mill, he has his fill of a Prison bestowed upon him; but if he be a Grand-man of the Order, a Doctor of Paris, a Reader of Divinity, a Preacher, or some great man of the Fraternity, he is sent to another Monastery, far off, with special and honourable Commissions.  F. 
It is then very serviceable amongst them to be endued with Talents.  P. 
Yea truly, I know one, who was very well endued with that of Preaching, and is a very handsome man, but otherwise mighty debauched, who having got a Nun with Child at Tulin in Dolphin, was strait-ways sent to Dole, where he did Preach with so much seeming zeal, that he was taken for a Saint; and women who knew nothing of this matter, cried out, Blessed be the womb that bore thee.  F. 
This is the advantage which such kind of people have, when they have committed some fault in one place, they need only transport themselves elsewhere, where they are not known, and where, as if nothing were, they begin new pranks. 'Tis not so with an Ecclesiastical person, who is tied to his Benefice; and if he be tardy, his Crime appears upon his door; (that I may use the words in Genesis). He must for the remainder of his days wipe off the shame; whereas these fellows, after they have disgraced themselves in one place, go and receive honour and respect in another.  P. 
Such as you talk of are very few; yet this would not hinder me from accepting a Benefice in the Country, in case I could find it out. I am weary of tumbling and living amongst the multitude, and would be glad to be myself, as you are, to pass the rest of my days in a quiet retirement.  F. 
You are in respect of our condition, what I was in respect of yours. I did propose to myself sweetness in a Cloister, and you believe to find the like in a Benefice in the Country. Alas, how much are you deceived! bethink yourself, how miserable a thing it is to be confined to a Village, to live amongst Peasants, who are like unto so many wild beasts, to pass your days without conversing, without succour, without comfort; and at the end of this to be reduced, as most are, to a most miserable and congruous portion.  P. 
Nothing is so much against my mind, as those congruous, or rather incongruous portions: I cannot digest that injustice, which is apparent in the division of Church-revenues, where those that do least have most.  F. 
Is it not an unjust thing to see men, having three and 4000 Liures per annum, of Church-revenues, that exercise no function in the Church! to see the Tithes raked from Parishes, by persons, who do no service in the Parishes? and yet, which is most unsufferable, to see those very men that do service, share their deuce with others, from whom they should rather receive them. Is it not a shameful thing, that in Churches, which yield them three and 4000 Livres revenue, they will not so much as find a Cloth to cover the Altar, nothing appearing there but Cobwebs and Dust?  P. 
That sort of people are of the Mageriens Religion, who worship Jupiter the dusty, and whose Oratory had no ceiling; yet they will tell you, that they have the right of Nomination and Presentation, and that they are the Primitive-Patrons and Donors.  F. 
'Tis true, they are the Patrons, for they have patronised themselves into our Revenues: they are Primitive, for they are beforehand with us, and are the first that take our money.  P. 
They are in regard of benefits, even as direct Lords are in respect of Fonds, whereof they draw the profit without manuring.  F. 
We are then their Emphriotes, and by consequence they our Lords; nay rather our Surgeons, for they bleed us.  P. 
Yea, etc. But to return to our purpose; in my opinion this right of Nomination and Patronage, name it as you please, is a great abuse.  F. 
I call it Right of Brokerage.  P. 
You are in the right: for in case a Parson in a Benefice be sick, straightway there is running to the Doctor, to inquire of his health; and if he be in danger, there is spurring, flying, bribery, soliciting, entreaties, begging for letters of recommendation; nay there is besetting, assassinating, yea Patrons are sometimes ruined.  F. 
'Tis the zeal of the Lords House devours those runners after Benefices; 'tis that makes them afraid of Divine service, lest it be not performed. But you speak only of Patrons, you say nothing at all of Matrons; such methinks take the shortest way, who go directly to them, and put evidence into their hands; for these Gentlemen Primitives, Patrons, and Donors, being all persons of Quality, and of generous Spirits, bestow Benefice for Benefice.  P. 
A fair and worthy Calling, which implies, that the Ladies have the Key of the Vestry, to speak properly, that people are made to enter the Church by kicks on the Arse.  F. 
Softly; you express things after a strange rate: Do you call that speaking neatly?  P. 
I retain a little tang of the Climate whence I came, I still think to have my head in a hood; you must pardon me, by degrees I shall correct myself. But let us proceed, if you please; I say that this abuse in the Church is of bad consequence, for it binds the hands of Bishops, who cannot well refuse a Benefice to him that is nominated, provided he be indifferently endowed with knowledge, and have no ill report; as if it did particularly suffice for Beneficed Curates, to be without scandal, whereas over and above he ought to be endued with great Virtues, and Talents for the Conduct and Government of souls.  F. 
There are some Dioceses, as that of Sens, where there is but little care of such Nominations, nay not so much as what Rome provides. A Priest should wait for his justification, by his sufficiency and his virtue, whereof he ought to have given proofs within the Diocese, by a probation of certain time, before he be admitted to bear the name of Pastor.  P. 
This aught to be done everywhere: in Truth Mr. De Sans was a Prelate, he was incessantly busied about reforming his Diocese, and did sharply keep down the Monks— I have always had a particular veneration for him, since he took those poor Nuns of St. Clare of Provence, out of the Cordeliers Claws, who were their directors.  F. 
I have wondered a hundred times, how Bishops suffer Nuns to be governed by those filthy Varlets.  P. 
The Jacobins have done no less in such houses as were under their Conduct: when I was a Scholar in a City of Languedock, I often went to visit one of my kinswomen.  
She was a Nun in a Monastery of St. Katherine of Sienna, whose director was a Jacobin, a man of years, and of a good countenance; but otherwise a great prater and babbler, whom I did often serve at Mass. This Father, being in the Vestry, after he had undressed, did tell the Maids a thousand stories. I heard him once tell a young one, that he had the last night dreamt of her, and that in that dream he had ejaculatory Prayers, with great sighs and tenderness of heart. Another time, entertaining himself with two of those Maids, he told them what a devotion he had for Breasts, and that to enter into Paradise, he was in the mind that one must first be in favour with Breasts; that it was to renew the Martyrdom and Persecutions of the Primitive-Church, to keep those innocent Breasts imprisoned, and to hinder them from seeing daylight; that they would answer it before God Almighty, for using so much cruelty towards them, by not suffering them to breath in the open air, and for smothering them in so narrow a Prison.  F. 
Durst he prate of these follies to them?  P. 
That had been but a small matter only to prate of them, had he not acted also. One day I perceived, that putting his hand through the Bar, he put it in a fair Nun's breast.  F. 
He did visit the Breasts, which were Prisoners, and had a mind to enter into Paradise. Yet this comes not near those abominable filthinesses, into which those Devils of Cordeliers had plunged that Monastery of Provence. I wish that Factum were reprinted, and that it were spread about everywhere, to the end that those Goats might not dare any more to appear, but be forced to flee to some solitary place, like unto these Scape-goats, laden with the sins of the people, whereof mention is made in Leviticus.  P. 
Do you believe that that would avail in any thing? The Hood is an Head-piece, and their Frock a Coatmail of good proof against all that. What have these great men gained, William of St. Amour, Agrippa, Buchanan, Erasmus, Canus, Bishop of Belie, and so many other, who have laid open the Monk's wickednesses? have they served to any other end, than the burning or prohibiting their books, and for their own parts, the posting themselves for Heretics?  F. 
As if it was all one to be a Heretic, and to write against those who dishonour the Church!  P. 
The provoking of those wasps is a dangerous matter; for they go about the Vatican buzzing, and perforce must have their demands granted. The Pope must certainly excommunicate, and pronounce Anathemas on all such as they please, otherwise all would be spoiled. When William of St. Amour had put forth against them his Book, De periculis novissimorum temporum, of the danger of the last days, they cried out upon it, and so much debated the same, that Pope Alexander the fourth was forced to give, one upon the neck of the other, Forty Bulls in their favour, for condemning of this Book; which though it was burnt by reason of their earnest suit, was notwithstanding afterwards (pray take notice of this) acknowledged and declared innocent by the voice of the whole Consistory. Yet after all this, these Furies did so bestir themselves, that they obtained another Bull, by which the Author of it was prohibited to enter France, and the University of Sorbonne to receive him.  F. 
'Tis certainly true, what Alexander the sixth did say, that it was better to have offended the most Potent King in the world, than a Franciscan, or Dominican Friar.  P. 
And did not Paul the Fifth more fear the Monk's discontent, than that of the republic of Venice?  F. 
Then I cease admiring at our Pope's yielding to them so freely their demands.  P. 
The Popes are very glad to entertain them: For do you imagine the Triple-Crown did not tremble to see four or five hundred thousand Hoods stir and grumble? they would make the Pope himself to pass for a Heretic, if he should deny them their demands.  F. 
Cursed generation! they aught then to be smitten by an invisible hand, and have Books made against them without any name to them.  P. 
All that would still avail nothing, for being very powerful with Sovereigns and Ministers of State, who are afraid to send them back discontented, they presently obtain Orders of Council, prohibiting all Booksellers, and Printers, to expose to sale, or publish such Books upon pain of Death, as they did the Works of Mounsieur De Belie: so that those Books, which were as an antidote against the corruptions of the times, were prohibited, and durst not appear save in the Closet of some curious person, who only read them in private. Had it not been for this, I had caused to be Printed, for the diversion of the public, a small work which I have made, containing six Chapters. The first treats of the super-eminencies and prerogatives of the most holy Hood; the second of the mysterious differences and proprieties of Cords, Strings, Girdles, and Thongs, be they of Tow, Horsehair, Woollen, or Leather; the third of the miraculous privileges of Socks, Hooks, and Sandals; the fourth of the holy fullness of the mumpers-Bag, who work miracles amongst the people; the fifth of the curious Original of Hooks, Wooden-pegs, and Buckles of Horn, whereof certain orders make use as an important help to devotion; and the sixth of the nobility of some Brother-mumper.  F. 
Yet they ought to have caused that small work to have been Printed, which in truth would have been very pleasant. But what do you understand by that nobility of some Brother-mumper?  P. 
By that I mean, that there are certain Friars, who would persuade us, that such a one is a Gentleman, that formerly he bore Arms, that he hath had Command in the Army. This is done to the end that fools being prepossessed with this opinion, and admiring this example of Conversion and Submission, may more largely bestow their Alms; for, say they, here's what may well teach us to mortify ourselves: Do you behold that Brother who begs and carries the bag, demanding Alms? He is a Gentleman: then the Husband bids the Wife fetch up a pint of the best in the Cellar, and empty it into the brother's Bottle, who will pray for them.  F. 
In good truth you ought to have published that piece.  P. 
Yea, but those mumpers— who know all things, and are everywhere, would have suppressed it before it had come to light; and when they can do no better, they buy, or cause to be bought up by their Friends, all the Copies of a Book, and gather them to themselves, as the Cordeliers have done of the Factum of the Nuns of Provence, in such wise, that an Author is frustrated of his expectation, and the public deprived of their pleasure which they might have received—  F. 
The meaning than is, that they will continually guard against all blows that can be given them.  P. 
Yes, unless you use against them Libels and Pasquels, as they do at Rome against the Pope and Cardinals.  F. 
How should that be done?  P. 
I would do thus: as soon as it should be known that a Monk had played some prank, it should immediately be posted up in some of the most frequented places. By this means the people going and coming, who should see it, would spread the same quite through the City. Then for example's sake, I would put in my Paper to be posted up: Such a day, such a father, of such an order, was surprised in a bawdy-house with a Courtesan by three good companions, who having seized him, threatened that they would call the Captain of that quarter, which obliged this good religious person, that he might free himself out of their hands, to present them with his Advent and Lent-Money, with all he had begged, and all had been gathered for him at the Church-doors; as also to pay the Collation, which they had sent for to treat the Monk— Such a Father the festival day of their blessed Patriarch, having confessed, or seeming to have confessed a Courtesan (known to be such a one) at his going from thence, returned to the Convent; and the wench being gone to wait for him at the gate, this good Father was seen to cause her to enter the Porter's Lodge, who doubtless was privy to the design, where she remained at least five or six hours, without doubt to fulfil the penance which he had enjoined her.— Such a day there was difference in such a Monastery occasioned by a Maid, whom Father Guardian had kept for some days in his Chamber, which being discovered by the Father Vicar, and other religious persons swore, they would make a noise, unless they had some share in the prize. The Father Guardian could not agree to it, because the wench had been his Creature a long time. But at last, to prevent the noise and scandal, he quitted her to them, though with much ado; for he keeps her with the money, which he gets for the Books of Devotion he makes; for Mass, which good people cause him to say, and for the Octaves he Preaches.  F. 
It would be a most excellent way to mortify that kind of people, to stick up such Papers. But what you have just now said, do you allege it for example sake, or for things really done?—  P. 
I know the religious persons, who have been guilty of such things; they are all Reverend Cordeliers.—  F. 
O God  P. 
What a good man are you? little else daily appears.  F. 
Truly, Thus Father Guardian makes use of good means, to keep his Whore with Books of Devotion, Sermons and Masses.  P. 
He cannot keep her with more holy things.  F. 
Yea, but he makes a profane use of them. Alas, what would good St. Francis say, if he should again return into this world, and behold such execrable things!  P. 
What would he say, if he saw Cordeliers take their Hood off their heads, and cover a great Bottle with it, singing round about it Bacchanal Songs; if he saw them stigmatised with no other marks, but such as they give one another; or such as Cancers and Buboes have left behind them! How would he be surprised, in case he was informed, that Carousing Monks, after their having given Wenches a Collation in the Church, the doors being shut, should throw themselves upon them, and flay their very Breasts by their excessive kissing and rubbing them with their great Beards? What would that good Saint say, if word was brought him, that a Capuchin, debauching himself in a house in the Country, caused a dozen small Butterflies to be tied to his Beard, and made twenty Capers in that ridiculous condition? What would it be if all the holy Patriarches did come to keep grand days, each in his order, in case they found within the small Caves of their religious persons, Bawdy-Books, Love-letters, Assignation-notes, Sweetmeats, Muscadine, Rosa solis, Dice, Cards. Tobacco and Pipes; if they saw religious persons Carousing a whole night amongst Pots and Classes, burning out the Candles which their Benefactors had bestowed upon them at their begging? If they heard them blaspheme God like Archers, and utter more insolences and villainies, than Soldiers boys belonging to an Army would speak? What would it be, in case they found some, who after their having debauched themselves for one part of the night, had stripped themselves stark-naked, and danced in that manner, in infamous postures, which was done in a Monastery of the barefooted? If they were acquainted, that religious persons at their coming from Preaching, should have showed to servant-maids their Privy-parts? that Maids who come to them complain, that in their confessing them, they put their hands between their Breasts and Thighs. What would St. Austin say, who was afraid to inhabit under the same roof with his Sister, if he found debauched Wenches in their Chambers? If he saw some of them go publicly to Bawdy-houses? If he found them armed with Trencherknives, and ready to cut one another's throats, as they did two years since in a great Convent at Paris? What would St. Dominicus say, if he beheld Jacobins wear Holland-shirts, Silk-stockings, a Chamlet-Coat, with Silver-Galoon, a white Scarf with Golden Fringe, under the habit he gave them? What would St. Francis of Paul, that good man, not say, if he found Pistols in religious persons Pockets, and Sword-Blades in their sticks? If he heard, that in one of their Missions, three of his did keep and entertain for two months a debauched Wench? If Minims' were named to him, who being in a Parlour of Nuns, should have tucked up their Gowns, and for half an hours time danced before them? What would Helias say, if he found a Carmelite, that had broken his Leg by falling into a Well, without a brim, when he was crossing a garden in the night, intending to go lie with a Woman? [N. B. the Author only touches here the most common things, and suppresses such stories as would cause horror.] In short, once more, What would that good St. Francis say, if he saw that his Children have most ignominiously caused his Will to be annulled?  F. 
How, annul his Will?  P. 
Why, then you know not what it is that good Saint obliged them to by his Will, foreseeing the evils which idleness would bring upon them: he bound them to work, and to live by the labour of their hands; forbidding them to have recourse to begging, unless their labour was not sufficient for their maintenance? But they, to whom this clause was too burdensome, caused sentence to be pronounced by Nich. 3. and Gregory 9 to absolve them from any obligation of keeping to this Will, as being of no force nor validity.  F. 
Alas, idle fellows! if ever they come a-begging to my house, I shall send them packing, both their selves and their Ass, to the Will of their Father.  P. 
Speaking of their Ass, you put me in mind of the Golden-Ass of Apuleius, to whom this Author caused to be pleasantly rehearsed the begging of certain Priests of the Goddess of Syria. That Ass than reports, that those people did frequent the Villages, showing the Effigies of their Gods, promising Countrypeople, that they should be prosperous and favourable; that in exposing their Idols, people did offer them in requital Copper and Silver-money, which those mumpers did pocket up very conveniently: besides those offerings, there was given them, Wine, Milk, Cheese, Wheat, Rye, Herbs, which they did put in Bags and Bottles, brought on purpose. All that, says that poor Ass, both Gods, and what they had begged, was laid on my back, and after that these Quacks had Foraged whole Countries throughout, I was led home fully laden, and out of breath, to lay up again, the Gods in the Temples, and the booty in the Cellars and Garrets.  F. 
Laying aside those Idols, those Asses of begging Monks, who might be able to say the same thing, in case they had the gift of the Tongue, as Balaams' Ass had; for the Monks who sweep away all they can in houses of poor Countrypeople, they beg Wheat, Wine, Eggs, Oil, Butter, Cheese, Bacon, Sausages, Thread, Linen, Tow, and put all these upon their Ass.  P. 
They do not expose Idols to sight, but give Images of their Saints, of St. Francis, St. Antonio of Milan, St. Dominicus, St. Austin, St. Nicholas, of our Lady of mount Carmel, of Lights, of the Rosary of Angels, of Grace, of Joy, of Consent, of good Help, of good Hope, of good Rancounter, of good News, of good Delivery, of Comfort, of Slavery, of good Carriage, of Piety, and of our Lady of the seven Pains. Besides, they give them Agnus dei's, Gospels, names of Jesus in red letters, which they say cures the ague.  F. 
What a trade's here?  P. 
All this is nothing: there was one, who after the Canonising of St. Francis of Sales, seeing that the people had some devotion for that Saint, run through the Villages, exposing to view that Saints relics, as he pretended, in a small Casket covered with Taffeta, which they did present to young women to be kissed; receiving with a great deal of devotion the money which they gave them to say Masses, although his rule did forbid the taking of any; but he alleged, that in this case it was permitted him. By mishap he went to sell his Balsam in a small City, where there was a wise Curate, who demanded of him his Attestation, Approbation, and Warrant from the Bishop, without which it is a crime to produce such things. But he having no Passport, and finding himself threatened to be had before the Prelate, shut himself up with his bones and booty in his Convent.  F. 
He may be gone with his Relics elsewhere.  P. 
You may believe it; this is their manner of way.  F. 
But you acquaint me not who is this Carrier abroad of relics?  P. 
He is of those who would be stricter than the strictest observers of St. Francis, who profess his rule ad litteram, as they say, and who in the case of a Monk's perfection, bear him up at least half a foot beyond the Capuchins.  F. 
'Tis then a Recollett.  P. 
Tu dixisti, you have said it.  F. 
O the Shirks, the Mountebanks! it was a hard thing for me to believe what lately a Gentleman of Dauphine was telling me concerning those people; but I now believe it. He acquainted me that two Recolletts, begging in his Neighbourhood, went to take their Lodging in a good Citizen's house, who did commonly receive them, and made them sup with two good fellows of his Friends, who were also at his house; who seeing these two Monks of a good humour, made them drink heartily. After supper, these two Laymen would smoak, and these two religious persons joined with them, and smoked also; then they began to drink again, afterwards to dance, and my religious persons did the like. In fine, they did so debauch themselves, that they took off their hoods, and put on other clothes, and so went in company with those Laymen, to pass the rest of the night in drinking in an Alehouse, to smoke, dance, and kiss the Maids.  P. 
By that means they observe very well the rule ad litteram; but seeing we are discoursing concerning those people, I will impart unto you something remarkable, which Alcippus, whom you know very well, did the last winter: he perceived two going out of their Convent on a snowy day, each having his staff, and a certain Rocket, which they put over their Coats: being surprised to see such people go abroad in such bad weather, and in a travelling habit, he had a mind to know what would become of them; therefore he followed them, and as they passed through the streets, women cried out, Alas, where go those poor Fathers this weather! he still following them by his eye, he saw them enter a Widow's house and within a minute after the Maid goes out with a Flagon, and a Napkin, to a Neighbouring-Cooks for some Wine and a Pye.  F. 
Without doubt they did make that woman believe that they came out of the Country, and that they were almost starved for hunger and cold.  P. 
'Tis likely so: they continued there about an hour, and having gone forth, they fetched a great Circuit, and returning by another way, other women said the same; O do you see those good Fathers? Whence can they come this bad weather? Alas, how much do they endure to gain Paradise! without doubt they come from seeing some sick person in the Country. Jesus Maria, how much they endure! My Blades having accomplished this fair journey, went to secure themselves in their Convent.  F. 
What sort of Pilgrims were these?  P. 
'Tis no hard matter to judge, that this was done for two Ends, the one to go juncket at that Woman's house; the other to cause the people believe, that they suffer very much; that they are exposed to many hardships, insomuch that they passing the next day by the same ways to beg, find people well-disposed to fill up their Bottle and their Bag.  F. 
O Rascals! Do you not believe that the Capuchins do as much?  P. 
Are they not Monks as well as the Recolletts? Do you think they want dexterity and craft more than the other?  F. 
Those Capuchins are good.  P. 
Ha, ha, They are the quintessence of the four sorts of Mendicants, the most famous University of Begging in the Christian World, the most famous University of Knavery that we have, which produces Masters in the art of Idling, Bachelors in the use of Funnels and Bottles, Doctors of Begging, and Professors of the Bag.  F. 
They are visiters of Castles, and make long Stations in nobleman's houses.  P. 
Great Zealots of the Cross, of Mortification, of Poverty, the inconvenience whereof they very little feel, being the best accommodated Mendicants in the whole Monastical order. Have you ever observed the tales they tell to great fools and young women? Whom they acquaint, that oftentimes at the ringing of the Bell to meals, they find nothing but a mess of Pottage; but grace being said, the Bell at the gate is heard to Ring; where the Porter going to open, finds Bread and Bottles of Wine, which is sent by some good soul, without which they must have been fain to have dined with a mess of Broth; but that God will not have those who throw themselves upon his Providence to starsameve.  F. 
I have notwithstanding had very good cheer with them. I was invited to their Convent by one of the Lords of the Order, who treated me most excellently well. As soon as he had me within, he introduced me to the Guardian, and to another of the chief. Sir, says he, here is one of our Friends, whom we ought not to mistrust; he receives us at his house when we go thither, and did us the honour two years since to Preach here; and it is very reasonable we should treat him. Mum for that, says the Father Guardian; but how shall we do? We must, said he who had invited me, send Brother Lewis with the Brother Gardiner to carry a Colliflower to the Lieutenant-General, and they will acquaint him that we have with us one of our Benefactors, who is come to see us as he passed by, whom we desire to treat with a Bottle of good Wine: from thence they will go to the Lady his Mother, who is devoted to your Reverence; she will make a Pie, or a Cake, in case she be also acquainted, we have this Friend here. The Hostess of the Golden-Cross, who is a good Friend to Father Ralph, will, 'tis likely, send us a Woodcock or two, or a fat Capon, and, if your Reverence like it, a bit of Veal may be taken up at the King's Attorneys Butchers, according to the leave he hath given us, which we will send to be baked at Mrs. Fluries. Father Guardian, having given these orders, in less than two hours' time comes twice as much as meat as was required. The Lieutenant sends six pints of most excellent Wine, the Hostess at the Golden-Cross two Woodcocks, Father Guardians devout Lady, besides a Pie of Potatoes, sent Cakes, Biscuits and Macaroons, and Mrs. Fluries added a large Liveret to a Loin of Veal, which was taken up at the Butchers.  P. 
You had wherewithal to make merry.  F. 
And so we did.  P. 
You have named one Father Ralph: I knew in Averna one of that name, whose Beads, as he said, had the virtue to cause barren women prove with Child. So that there was no barren women in any place, where that Father had been, but were advised to make use of Father Ralph's Beads.  F. 
I know not if he be the same, they have amongst them several of that name; but seeing we are talking of the Capuchins, I would fain know why those same, and the Barefooted Augustins wear those great Hoods like an Hippocras-bag.  P. 
I'll tell you then: as that Bag serves to refine and rectify Liquors, separating the pure from the impure; so those people have purified and rectified St. Francis' and St. Augustine's Order, and having filtered as it were those two Orders, in memory thereof they carry the figure of the Bag on their heads.  P. 
You have at this time paid me, all your arrears: but what do you say of their great Beards?  P. 
I say, they are at present what they were formerly, the sacred Forests in the midst whereof the Gods had their Oracles; that their hair are precious excrements, and are as many small threads, wherewith Cupid chains Lady's hearts.  F. 
You have again satisfied me this time, I would fain make love to those Beards.  P. 
What, to those Beards? You never saw any thing so gallant; upon my faith I jest not, but speak in good earnest.  F. 
Yea, with this ridiculous garb and these naked feet.  P. 
Alas, so far is it from being a hindrance, that I will make it appear to you, it doth promote their passion. First, Women have extravagant and irregular appetites, which is the occasion that they fancy those Satyrs. Secondly, When they are in love, they have great care to keep their arms and their feet white, to make that curious Sex greedy to pry very far in them, whereby they affect deeply their sight and imagination, which being gained, I give you leave to judge whether the rest make any resistance.  F. 
What you say in this, is very likely.  P. 
Therefore on this subject, I will make you laugh at an adventure, which befell a friend of mine at Lions, whither he went last winter about some affairs. He lodged at a Widow's house infatuated by those hooded fellows; and he told me, that upon a Sunday after dinner, having kept himself in his Chamber a writing till two of the Clock, and intending to seal his Letters, there being no Maid to bring him a Candle; the Mistress having sent her to obtain pardons from the Carmelites, he went to the Kitchen to light his Wax-Candle, where he found his Landlady roasting two Woodcocks and two Partridges. The man seeing this fine preparation, said to the Woman, Madam, what is the meaning of this? do you make a Wedding to day? no, says she, it is for some Gentlemen, who are playing at our Neighbours, that have prayed me to let these be roasted here, because their Jack is broke: he returning to his Chamber, saw upon the stairs two Barefooted Austin-friars-s, to whom immediately the Landlady did open the door. This caused him to defer sealing his Letters, to see the result of things: in the interim while the Landlady was showing them to a Chamber, he returns into the kitchen, and slips into a Chamber joining to that which they were gone into, and which was only parted with a Wainscot-partition: by good-luck there was in that room a Table covered with a Carpet, which reached down to the feet of it: there my man hides himself, where he overheard pleasant things.  F. 
This is worth a great deal of Money.  P. 
The Landlady then having conducted those two black Capuchins into the other room, told them, that Mrs. Jane would come immediately, that in the mean while she must needs make a step into the Kitchen: then he heard one of those Augustins ask the other for his Comb, and without doubt it was to Comb his Beard. It was no sooner done, but Mrs. Jane came in: This Father which had spoke before, told her, You are most heartily welcome, you have delivered me from a great pain, I did even tremble for fear lest you should not come at all. I did not intend to fail you, replies Mrs. Jane; I have sent my Maid to hear the Carmelites, who are people which keep them long, and told her that I went to Vrsula's: you are, said the Father, the most obliging and most lovely person in the world: Well, well, said Mrs. Jane, let us bar compliments at this time: O what a warm hand is here, says the Father? Ah, do but mind the fervour of my soul: you are a great kisser, saith Mrs. Jane, what a white arm is that? not so white as that fair breast, replies the Augustin.  F. 
And what did his companion do in the mean while?  P. 
You ask me the same question, which I did that Friend, he went presently, said he to me, to the Landlady, who said, O how plump they are! Jesus, and how white tool (without doubt he did show her his legs). After this the Roast-meat being set upon the Table, come say they, we must dispatch; here, shall us wash? I love mightily that good Father N. says the Landlady, he hath helped to Cook the meat: see how his sleeves are tucked up, he hath reason to show his naked arms, for upon my faith, they are very white: I had rather see that white skin, than all the small Goslings of our Town: you would not think, added she, that one of our boarders came into the Kitchen whilst I was turning the spit, whom I fobbed off with a pretence, that it was for some Gentlemen who were playing at one of our She-neighbours, who had brought it me here to Roast, because her Jack was broke; he swallowed the Gudgeon presently, and so went up to his Chamber again.  F. 
I should not have been able to have forborn laughing, had I been hid in the same place where your friend was.  P. 
Why, he was very near spoiling all (as he told me), and was forced to go from under the Table, not being able to contain from laughing any longer; besides, he was in haste to carry his Letter to the Posthouse, and had it not been for that, he had heard the end of the Comedy.  F. 
Certainly he heard enough: but who'd have thought so much of these Turlupins?  P. 
Why do you give them that name?  F. 
It is in derision.  P. 
You have hit better than you thought for: Do you know what Turlupin means? They were a sort of Heretics, who said we ought not to be ashamed to show those members which nature had given us: so that you have nicked the right name for 'em exactly.  F. 
I am glad of it: I will henceforward call all Barefooted Monks by no other name than Turlupines.  P. 
You may call them Nudipedales, who were another sort of Heretics, that, as St. Austin tells▪ us, were persuaded, that perfection only consisted in going barefooted  F. 
The word Turlupins pleases me better than that of Nudipedales, and therefore I will keep to that: but is it not a horrible thing then, that those Turlupines should draw on women to sin by marks of penitence? This nakedness is against common shame and honesty, one ought to oblige those people to have their arms and legs covered.  P. 
Something must be permitted them to comfort themselves against that vexation which their great Beard causes, specially when it begins to look grayish.  F. 
I believe that Beard of theirs is very troublesome to them.  P. 
You cannot imagine how much they are tormented about it, and with what jealousy they look upon other. Monks which are shaved. These fools spend whole hours to pluck out gray-hairs, to root out those forerunners of age, to black their Beards: and when they are with their women, they will tell them that they are but five and thirty years of age, that the great Austerities, and continual Macerations, and inconveniencies of a religious life, make them grow white before their time. What do you think, say they? How extremely do these waste the body, and shorten a man's days?  F. 
Subtle Foxes!  P. 
They are certainly Foxes, but such as Samson let loose into the Philistines Corn, which had firebrands at their tails.  F. 
Ah truly, the comparison is not amiss, you always make some scurvy application of Scriptures; but yet at last say what you can, they are not all of an amorous complexion, nor do they all take pains to pluck hairs out of their Beards.  P. 
Those that are not tainted with that folly, look upon themselves to be Statesmen, and set up for Directors and Councillors, wherein their Beards is a mighty help to them; for although it be not a certain sign of Wisdom, the seat of that virtue being in the brain, and not in the chin; yet the spirit of man, as knowing as it is, suffers itself to be cheated by those foolish appearances. Hence it is that a Magistrate will appear to us more majestic in his Robes, a Prelate more awful in his pontifical habit, and so likewise a Monk more wise and venerable with a long Beard. Those therefore amongst them, who are more inclined to ambition than love, apply themselves to make higher Conquests, and to govern the minds of great ones. They insinuate themselves into their houses by their addresses, and keep themselves there by flattery, and by that false sign of honesty which hangs at their chin: as in appearance they profess they have quitted all pretensions and interests upon the face of the earth, and that they have absolutely devoted themselves to God, and to the study of Wisdom; their flattery is therefore so much the more dangerous, and of greater efficacy; for a person of Quality, were he the greatest fool upon earth, cannot forbear having a high esteem of his person, seeing himself so extolled by people, he believes to have a right in the sharing of glory: and thus he will take for his own merit, the submissions and venerations that those Loobies give only to his Authority, or to his great Estate.  F. 
In this you say nothing but what may be affirmed of all Monks.  P. 
I own it, for all generally do use subtlety and flattery; but you must agree with me, that great Beards causing religious persons to appear more venerable, and serving them as it were for Letters of Recommendation, those who are endued with that prerogative, have a marvellous advantage over the other; for if all them have the knack to insinuate and root themselves in the minds and houses of great ones, it may be said of those that they do there establish themselves highly and profoundly in length and breadth, according to all the dimensions of their Beards.  F. 
Yea very well, etc. I was formerly Chaplain to an old Don, who had been in the Wars, and there having got vast riches, he left off all business to spend the remainder of his days in Tranquillity, and at ease; he commonly kept himself in a fair house, which he had two Leagues off Paris, where he was very often visited by religious persons: he did receive them all with great kindness, taking a world of delight and satisfaction in their company; also those people did extremely well act their parts in all the visits they gave him.  P. 
'Tis that wherein they cannot err, they know a man before ever they have seen him, they know the qualities of his body and mind, what his ability is, and which are his blind sides; they see that in the memoirs they find within the Convent, where persons of Quality, with whom they have some concerns, or at least will pretend it, are described to the life, from head to foot; so that they are only to conform their steps and movements according to those rules; therefore being provided with these advices, they take for fundamental maxims, never to lose the sight, the humour and inclinations of the party with whom they have to do, always to be with them, and to calculate all their discourses and motions to the meridian of their tempers. By this means they seize on a man's mind at the first sally, and as I may so speak, make him a Proselyte to them by a crafty Countermine. But this is not the sole advantage which they have, for as Monks make it much their business to travel up and down almost all Countries, and so consequently can't but meet with several persons, who have either seen Italy or Spain, or else a great part of France, those things they have taken notice of, are of a most singular help and service to them, and that makes them to be very pleasant and charming in their Conversations: moreover, they are acquainted with many excellent Recipes, even for most sort of distempers; for you must know, all Monks are Physicians, they understand Buildings, Gardens, Trees, Flowers, Fountains; nay they also make Presents of seeds from Foreign Countries, which causes them to get many a good meals meat. All this joined to a great stock of confidence and flattery, makes them to be received everywhere, so that indeed no door is shut against them, nay not so much as the Closet.  F. 
It is true: but if they have the good luck to meet with any person of Quality that will let them govern them, I warrant you they know to a hairs-breadth how to make a mouth of him.  P. 
'Tis what I was just going to acquaint you with, O, it is Nuts and Sack to them, when they have got so far. When I was a Preacher at Tholouse, will one say, I had all the chief members of Parliament for my particular good friends. I caused a suit-in-law to be recovered for a Gentleman of Languedock, and Son to one of our Benefactors, where the concern was above 6000 Livres per annum; although his Adversary was one of the eminentest in all the Province, never was any business carried on with greater vehemence against one by an opposite party, than that was; but notwithstanding I got the better for him, by the influence I had over my friends on the bench. When e'er I happen to go to that good Gentlemans, he embraces me, falls about my neck and kisses me, and calls me his Protector, his Tutelar Angel, his Saviour, which makes me to shun as much as I can going to his house, because when I once am there, he'll hardly ever let me get away from him again. Another of them peradventure will say, That all the two years that he hath lived at Provence, a Coach was continually at the door of the Convent, either from the King's Lieutenant, or from Monsieur the Intendent, to have him thither; that there was such striving for his company, that he could not be at one persons house, without giving jealousy to another; and it was that only consideration which caused him to leave that Country, in the which he could not enjoy a moment's retirement to himself; that he daily receives the most obliging Letters in the world, to invite him to a return, that he must of necessity feign an indiposition to defend himself from their extreme civilities; and that he very much fears, lest those persons, who are of most Authority there, will obtain from the General an express order to command his return.  F. 
About six Months since I had one of them at my house, just in the same condition: 'twas a Tiersair, endowed with a most lovely Bread; he came from Paris, where he had dwelled a year, having been sent thither about some affairs concerning his Province: he acquainted me, that his employ having caused him to be known to a great many of the Grandees at Court, he had had the happiness to make them all his Friends; that he had brought from Rome, from whence he came before his going to Paris, Beads and very rare Medals, which he had presented to Princesses, Duchess', and Marchionesses; that those small trifles had procured him a very great access, and familiarity amongst them. That there came none to hear him Preach, being at Paris, but such as kept a rustling in their Velvets and Brocards; and that he spent all the afternoon in Alcoves, and with the Ladies, sitting down by them upon their beds. He further told me, that notwithstanding the multitude of businesses which he had, and the frequent visits he was fain to make; yet he could not defend himself from Preaching ten or twelve times, being so extremely solicited thereunto by persons of the highest Quality, who did, as it were, drag him into the Pulpit, that he had Preached at St. Germane of Auxerois, at St. Eustas, at Notradama, at St. Andre Deans, at St. Nicholas in the Fields, at St. Severin, at the Valdegrace, at the Carmelites, Fillesdieu, at the Fevillantines, Ursulines, and at the Maquelonets.  P. 
Ha! here was good store of Preaching indeed. You should have asked him if he had not been mightily urged to Preach, during Lent.  F. 
I did not omit it: he told me he had been offered three Pulpits, and that he could not accept of one for a certain reason, which he then told me: as I remember it was, because he was to be at the general Chapter, which was to be held the Lent ensuing.  P. 
Believe him!  F. 
Preaching is one of the most extravagant transports that these Monks have.  P. 
Yes indeed, I think 'tis the greatest of all: they will severely baldernoe you in their Sermons at Lent, Advent, the Octaves, with their designs, ideas, thoughts, divisions; with their first, and second, and third points, and it shall please you. O! you will not find one that hath not Preached before a Parliament: and is not this to fall from heaven, will they say to you, after that they have Preached before a Parliament at Bordeaux, and at Grenoble, to come and take up with a diminutive Parish? to Preach to pitiful ink-sops, pettifoggers, and rake scum-notaries? But yet, as debasing as it is, it is an employment which I have voluntarily courted, and I will strive to lower myself, even to their reaches, and to accommodate myself according to their capacity. I will retrench from my Sermons, whatever is eloquent, refined, and raised, that so I may not cast pearls before swine; I will utter only the most Moral, and the most Palpable truths; I can do that playing, and with the greatest ease and refreshing to me imaginable; thereby I shall be dispensed withal, from rising at midnight, and going to the choir at other hours.  F. 
Just so they speak.  P. 
But as to your old Gentleman, whose Chaplain you were, you began to speak something of him, and afterwards let the discourse fall again.  F. 
Have we not left him in good hands, having left him in the hands of Monks?  P. 
You say very right. But what, was he alone? had he neither Wife nor Children?  F. 
He had a Wife excessively old, but no Children.  P. 
Oh! I do not marvel at their keeping so close to him; these vultures smelled their prey, but orders were most received there?  F. 
Above all other were the Jacobins, Capuchins, Carmelites, and barefooted Augustine's.  P. 
Four great Satchelly Evangelists, what a battery there was of Hoods, two round, and two pointed, against two Cripples?  F. 
Those good people are always visited by one of the four, and sometimes by all four at a time.  P. 
That is to say, that your old Blade was surrounded by those four sorts of Animals, who observed him well-near as narrowly as he of the Revelations, who was invested by four Beasts, that had eyes before and behind, in circuitu sedis quatuor animalia plena oculis ante & retro. Round about the Throne were four Beasts full of eyes before and behind.  F. 
That passage pretty well explains the thing, were it not that our good man did not look on those Creatures as Beasts, but like unto Angels.  P. 
But then we must say, that they were the four Angels which were spoken of in the same Revelations, who only employ themselves to hurt both Sea and Land, Quatuor Angeli quibus datum est nocere terrae & mari.  F. 
These did not seem to intend any hurt to that house, nay quite the contrary, to procure it all kind of advantages, and spiritual blessings; they were continually Preaching to them concerning the shortness of this life, of the Contempt we ought to have of these earthly, vain, and perishable goods; of the absolute necessity of minding our eternal salvation; on the uncertainty of the hour of death; on the need that Christians have to be helped by Prayers in this dangerous passage; that it was then that Satan did redouble his strength to destroy souls.  P. 
Ah! good Apostles: and why thus the Angels of darkness appear, just like the Angels of light. But pray Sir, go on if you please.  F. 
That their suffrages were very necessary to those that were ready to die, that there were no oblations more acceptable to God, than the sacrifice of the Mass; that a man ought with his estate to lay up for himself a treasure in the other world; that relations, when they once come to inherit another person's fortune, do take no care to make any Prayers to God for them; that they forget the memory of them with the sound of the Bells; that David had very well foreseen that ingratitude, when he said, Periit memoria eorum cum sonitu, their memory perisheth with the sound.  P. 
Do not you perceive somewhat in this, Comrade?  F. 
Yes, that so such a necessary succour might not be made to depend only on the will of the heirs, there was no better way in the world could be thought on, than this of inventing a good number of Masses to be mumbled over; that the departed were very much relieved, and comforted by Communities that are composed of a good many religious persons; that as soon as any Benefactor was dead, notice should be given to all the Convents of one order, and that Masses should be said for him all over Christendom.  P. 
Good now! and was this their prattle?  F. 
These were the ordinary discourses wherewith they did trouble the ears of those good people. In short, those four orders did present themselves like a Chariot with four wheels, to lead them to Paradise: the Jacobins had inrowled themselves in the fraternity of St. Rosair, the Carmelites in that of Scapulary, the Capuchins had given themselves Letters of filiation, and the Augustins the girdle of their glorious Patriarch. Every one of these orders was welcome for some particular reason or other; the Jacobins were considered for the sake of St. Dominicus, whose name Monsieur was off. The Lady did love the Capuchins for the sake of St. Francis of Assize; because she was eased of a pain in the reins, when ever she did sit down.  P. 
That was mighty lucky.  F. 
The Carmelites were reverenced as Brothers of the Virgin, and the Augustine's were very much in esteem, because of the great miracles, which were reported to be wrought by Father Barnard of their order (for that reason surnamed Father of miracles) at Lions in their Church of the Russet-Cross.  P. 
Ay indeed, these are four reasons which ought to render the said four orders very recommendable.  F. 
The great Augustins had formerly been in favour, but they were outdone by the Barefooted ones, at whose hands the Lady had received St. Augustine's girdle, which did put the other into so much wrath, that they would come thither no more.  P. 
A great Augustin to invite Madam to take the Girdle of St. Austin, one day begun to speak (mirabilia) wonders of that girdle, and of the Arch-brother-hood thereof erected among them.  F. 
I shall be very glad to hear what he did say of that noble Thong.  P. 
The three Laws (says he) that of Nature, the written Law, and the Law of Grace have enjoyed the use of the Leather-girdle: for the first we have nothing expressed, but 'tis most probable that our forefathers being clad with skins, as it is said in Genesis, Fecit Dominus Adae & Vxori ejus Tunicas Pelliceas. God Almighty making to our Father Adam, and to his wife Coats of skins, they were to wear a girdle of the same stuff: as for the written law, it is not permitted us to revoke it, in doubt whether the Prophet Elias did not wear it upon his reins. See the sixth Book of Kings, Chap. 1. which says of Elias, Vir pilosus & zona pellicea accinctus Renibus.  F. 
He derived this Thong from a great antiquity.  P. 
Nay much less of St. John the Baptist, in the Law of Grace, triumphing in the desert of worldly delicacies, who had his body covered with a prickly-coat, woven with Camel's hair, and his Reins girded with a Leather-girdle. Johannes habebat vestimentum de pilis Camelorum, & zonam pelliceam circa lumbos suos.  F. 
Had not he so much wit in his brains, as to say that St. John had been an Augustin?  P. 
Many have thought (said he further) that the girdle of the Apostles, St. Peter, and St. Paul was of Leather, etc. But who should be able to see that the blessed Virgin, that Queen of heaven and earth, that Empress over men and angels, hath vouchsafed to honour the Leather-girdle, by the holy and sacred encircling of her Virgin-body, wearing it about her Reins? would it not be to exalt and raise the honour, nobleness, and dignity of this girdle, to the height and extremity of its greatness? Paulinus Bergomensis, and the Reverend Father Brother Austin of Tolentine. The Lady being afraid of those Citations, which this Father was going to huddle over to her, very fairly told him, that she had had about her that blessed girdle above this twelve month: and who gave it you, replied the Augustins, seeing that his Cake was like to prove dough: it was, saith she, the Reverend, Reformed Augustin- Father's. There are no other reformed Augustins than we, replies briskly this Monk; I mean the little Fathers, says the Lady: they are very little Fathers in comparison of us, replies again the Augustin, and know, Madam, that we are the true reformed Augustins: it doth not belong to the Barefooted ones to give the girdle of St. Austin, for that belongs only to us. Are they not of St. Augustine's order, saith the Lady to him again? no, they are not, replied the Augustins. Thereupon happened to come in a barefooted Augustin, just as if God had sent him thither directly on purpose; which made the poor Lady presently to cry out, Father, you are come very fortunately, to defend your own cause. This Father here says, that it doth not belong to you to give St. Augustine's girdle; and why not, saith the Barefooted- Monk? are we not Friars of St. Augustine's order? no, you are not, saith the other, Our Father St. Austin by his writing, confesses himself, and owns that being a Monk, he was not Barefooted, neither could he endure it, although living in a hot Climate, as Africa was. See here his own words in his first Sermon of the Apostles, Chap. 6. where he says, Calceamenta quibus utimur, coria mortuorum sunt nobis tegmina pedum. The shoes which we use are made of the skins of dead beasts, and serve for cover to our feet. This is for the going shooed, and for the great sleeves, the Bull of Alexander the fourth is formal, which saith, Vt Priores universi, ac singuli fratres ordine Augustini antiquis vestibus suis contenti maneant, largas & protensas manicas, desuper cucullos deferant, & per amplas corrigias patenter omnibus apparentes, etc. That is to say, that all the Priors, and all the religious persons of the order of St. Austin, should be clothed with their ancient clothes, wearing broad and long sleeves, whence it follows (which he added) that there are no other besides the Augustins' wearing shoes and stockings, and with great sleeves, who follow the true institution of St. Austin, and who are his true religious persons.  F. 
What could the Barefooted ones answer against such concluding reasons for going with shoes on, and for the sleeves too? As for my part, I should have adjudged the girdle for those who wear shoes, and not to the Barefooted.  P. 
The little Father knew very well how to ward off the blow; he said that the true Monks of St. Augustine's order ought not so much to tie themselves to his habit, to his wearing of shoes, and to his sleeves, as to his virtues; and that those were his true Children, who were religious observers of him in goodness, rather than in exterior things, which contributed nothing to perfection. This hypocritical and specious answer did so much please the old Gentleman and his Lady, that the other, whatever he alleged, could not be heard; so that he went away highly incensed, leaving to his enemy the field free and open.  F. 
So then, the controversy was decided in favour of the little Augustins as to the distribution of the girdle  P. 
Yes, this affair was dispatched; but the reformed Monk knew much better how to gird it about the good old Ladies waste, assuring her, that it had been sent by Reverend Father Barnard (called the Father of Miracles), who had blessed it, and caused it to touch all their relics of the Russet-cross.  F. 
But was their no jealousies amongst the four orders that remained in favour?  P. 
Yes, you may easily imagine it: as much, because they did all make their visits to one and the same end, as because every one of them did cry up his own order above all the rest.  F. 
Well, but what did those jugglers say then?  P. 
The Carmelites did attribute to themselves the right of eldership above all the others, saying, That they were from the time of the written law, before the Advent of the Messiah, that they were descended from Elias, that their orders were before all the rest; That he was the fountain of Elias, running down from mount Carmel, and having been instituted by Elias, had been renewed by Elizeus, and other children of the Prophets: as also by the great forerunner of the Gospel of Christ Jesus, St. John, who had been superior of the Carmelites order.  F. 
That observation is very pretty. I never heard before that St. John had been a Carmelite; neither can I believe it yet, for St. Luke says, he never drank any Wine.  P. 
That it was he, who restored and renewed it in the new-law, that their order was to endure to the end of the world, to oppose his founder Elias to Antichrist; that they had been dispensed by Honoricus the fourth, from the jurisdiction of Princes and Bishops; that they were the Brothers of the Virgin, that there were three years of indulgence for those who should call them by that name. The Jacobins did brag of their rooting out the Albigenses, to have been made great Masters of the Holy Palace, to depend only upon the Pope; to have the right and pre-eminence of Preaching in all Pulpits, without the Bishop's consent; to have the privilege, that noblemen and their Ladies should come, and be confessed before them, and to no other, that they had power of administering the Sacraments, wherever they thought fit: to conclude, that they were exempted from all manner of Ecclesiastical censures.  F. 
What a deal was here!  P. 
The Capuchins lifted up their voice like a Trumpet, and vapoured, that in St. Francis 's order had been 6 Emperors, 40 Kings, 15 Princes, 66 Dukes, 60 Marquesses, 117 Earls, 465 Kings Sons, or Emperors, 6 Popes, 57 Cardinals, 12 Patriarches, 128 Arch-Bishops, 590 Bishops, 920 Martyrs, and 57 Canonised Saints.  F. 
And of what did the Barefooted Augustins' boast, I pray now?  P. 
Those black Turlupins? why, they called themselves the Professors of the Hermetic-life, which they made to appear by the length of their Beards, and by the nakedness of their feet; the legitimate Children of St. Austin, his not only pretended, but truly reform Monks: they did also display all their portentous miracles, which they daily performed in their Church of our Lady of Lasier in Dauphine.  F. 
But what miracles were they, that they did so much then brag of? Let me hear of some, if you can remember any.  P. 
One day the Physician being come about some indisposition of our good old Lady, one of these Augustins which were there, acquainted us with a miracle newly wrought upon a young maiden, named Joan Mole, which had been condemned to be hanged at Valentia, for having thrown her Child into a River. This Augustin acquainted me then, that a Capuchin-friar, named (if I forget not) Father Marcelin of Montel, having been appointed to accompany this unfortunate woman to the place of execution, did make a vow to go and say Mass, and give thanks in the Osier-Chappel, to the holy Virgin, in case she did deliver this maiden from this infamous death The which vow being renewed by the Capuchin at the sight of the Gibbet, the success proved thus, That after execution, the maid having been cut down, was found to be alive, and after some respite began to speak. Truly this Capuchin-friar made a very equitable vow, says the Doctor, to keep from the hands of Justice, a Mother which had drowned her Child. But Father, do you call this a miracle? yes surely, 'tis one, replied the Augustin: ay, but I do not call that a miracle, says the Physician, 'tis an effect which may be attributed to a natural cause; for besides that there are examples enough to prove that a criminal hath survived his punishment, may it not be likely, that the executioner may have been greased in the fist on the behalf of a young woman, for whom the Capuchin might have made vows? Alas, Sir, miracles are not to be jested withal, says this Austin-friar- with earnestness. I jest not with miracles, replies the Physician, but I deny this to be one; for without being in any necessity to bring reasons peculiar to my profession, why will you not have it so, that the executioner may have spared a maid, for whom a Capuchin-friar had a kindness? and that being granted me, as it may be very probably believed, than it will prove but a miracle of love, which hath triumphed over the rope of an executioner, after it had triumphed over that belonging to the Capuchin-friar. We all bursting forth in a laughter, by reason of this pleasant joke, the Father was so confounded, that he could not reply otherwise, save that Physicians had no religion, and did acknowledge no other Deity besides Nature.  F. 
But if you please, we'll return to those Monk's boastings. Do they not produce some quarrels amongst them? for this would be a greater miracle than that which St. Austin did allege, if these kind of people had been long without quarrelling.  P. 
They did contain as much as was possible in the Presence of the old Gentleman, and his Lady; but it happened one day, that they fell out briskly in the garden.  F. 
I should be glad to understand how it was.  P. 
Our old Gentleman finding himself indisposed, I know not how, but they had notice of it, and the next day they all came almost at the same time, and hovered over him round about his bed.  F. 
'Tis not a question to be asked, whether or no they complemented him from the Brotherhood.  P. 
O, no! these fellows clung to him as close as Bees! assuring him, that the Brotherhood were partakers of his indisposition, and that they directed their vows and their prayers to heaven for his recovery; that they wished they were able to divide his distemper amongst themselves; that the Reverend Father Provincial, the Reverend Father Assistant, the Reverend Father Definitor, the Reverend Father Prior, the Reverend Father Guardian, the Reverend Father Vicar, the Reverend Father Proctor, the Reverend Father Lecturer, the Reverend Father Preacher, and the Reverend Father Sacristan, the Reverend Father Bassill, the Reverend Father Polycarpus, the Reverend Father Appollinarius, the Reverend Father Eleazar, the Reverend Father Amable, the Reverend Father Marcellin, the Reverend Father Gregory, the Reverend Father Antony, the Reverend Father Marshal, the Reverend Father Bonadventure, the Reverend Father Gratian, the Reverend Father Lewis, the Reverend Father Boniface, the Reverend Father Archangel, the Reverend Father Protais, did kiss his hands.  F. 
What a parcel of Reverend Fathers are here?  P. 
That they had all of them said Mass on his behalf, to beg of God his health, and would not fail to give themselves the honour of waiting upon him in a visit. The Carmelite brought him a small thread of Elias' Cloak, the which (as they say) their order hath inherited: the Jacobin gave him a grain, which he assured him was from St. Dominicus' Rosary. The Augustin in a small sacred Rag, blessed by the miraculous Father Bernard, and the Capuchin, presented him with a little piece of their Generals-Coat, who had lately passed through France.  F. 
How insolently do they abuse people's credulity?  P. 
Every one of them had brought for a companion his Brother-Apothecary; these Apothecaries did likewise play their parts very well, the one presented him with a small box of Corroborative Opiate, another with a Viol of precious specific essence, to re-establish natural heat; another with a most admirable Elixir, and the other with Lozenges, proper to loosen that viscous phlegm which lay upon his Lungs.  F. 
But as to the quarrel?  P. 
These Father's having then feasted their paunches with the Lady at one side of the old Gentleman's bed, every one of them in their turn fell to talk of the miracles of their orders; especially the Carmelite, who did, and not without a great deal of reason, extremely value himself upon the Quality of the Virgin's Brother; at last rising from table, being gone to walk in the Garden, the Jacobin, who was a wag, addressing himself to me, told me, We are all much troubled, these Fathers, and myself, that this good Gentleman, by reason of his indisposition, hath not been able to eat with us; but we had this comfort to have dined with two of our Saviour's Uncles. How! Father, said I? At first not comprehending what he meant: the Virgin's Brothers, replied he, are they not our Saviour's Uncles? we all set ourselves a-laughing, but only the Carmelite, who in a great fury said unto that Jacobin, Ah! 'tis a very fine thing indeed to see a Monk laugh at our Pope's Bulls; but it is not a thing to be wondered at, that you find occasion of laughing at holy things, being of an order, who found a way to poison a Pope with the host. What! did you accuse the whole order for the fault of one particular person? says the Jacobin: and you, good Sir, have you not spoke it too against the whole order of Carmelites? and you Carmelites, replied the Jacobin, are very pleasant fellows to take upon you the Title of Brother to the Virgin, and to make us believe you are descended from Elias, as if we were ignorant that Almerick, Patriarch of Antioch, and Legate to the Pope, came to mount Carmel the year 1160, and did there assemble some Hermit's, who had neither institution, nor rule, but lived after their own fancy about that mountain; and that he did reduce them to a body, to whom the said Patriarch did give a Waldensis to be superior over them, named Bartholdus: that before it was no religious and monastic order, but only some solitary persons that were wand'ring here and there, who being reduced to a body, are but abortive, as Polydore Virgil calls them; neither did they take the figure of any religious order, till under Innocent the third, who lived about 480 years since. And you! whence come you, saith the Carmelite, you are come from the Humiliati, who were pitiful miserable slaves, which the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa had brought from Lombardy into Germany, whom being come to prostrate themselves at his feet, he took pity on, and discharged them, and afterwards they wore white clothes, just as you do; and it is from those people that St. Dominicus made up his Militia. The Barefooted Augustin intermeddling in the quarrel, said to the Carmelite, I wonder Father, that you have made no mention of the Cloak striped with white and red, which you heretofore did wear, and which might serve to mark and blazon your antiquity. Dare you prate of antiquity, replied briskly the Carmelite? You, whose order hath not been on the face of the earth above this fourscore years; pitiful Posthumes of a Father, who died 1300 years before your appearing in the world. Alas! Father, says the Capuchin, who as yet had not spoke a syllable, ought there to be so much wrath and fierceness under the Virgin's clothing? The Carmelite, seeing that he likewise was for a touch of raillery: and what habit had you, said he angrily? Will you not say 'tis the habit of St. Francis, which you wear? and that you are his Children? as if it were not well enough known, that it is one Matheus Basky, who gave you birth, and that you are only Basquees, etc. This quarrel had in all probability lasted longer, if there had not been a necessity of quelling that of the Brother Apothecaries, who were scolding at one another, as if they would immediately have gone to Fisticuffs: I heard them say, thou art a pretty Rogue for a Friar of St. Eloy; ay, and thou as pretty a Champion of St. Come, and St. Damien. Troth thou art a precious bit to give a Glister to our blindcheeks; yes, and you too a pure stick of wood, to apyly a plaster to the Navel of Mrs. R. waiting-woman. I was sorry they were disturbed, for they were in the way of discovering pleasant rogueries—  F. 
Ay, that would have been as good as a farce.  P. 
I could tell you likewise of a pleasant quarrel which the Minims were the cause of.  F. 
How! the Minims'? Are those fellows known there?  P. 
Yes, they made themselves to be very well known.  F. 
Pray let us by all means hear this.  P. 
They had for a long while observed the haunt, and watched for an opportunity to get in among them, to accomplish their design. They accosted one Mrs Isabella, who had been a Chambermaid in that House, and having given her the Habit and Cord of St. Francis of Paula, they sent her, being well documentized beforehand, to give a visit to her old Mistress: And this cunning baggage having made her first Compliments, did so manage her business, and so often handle her Cords, that the good old Gentlewoman demanded of her what it was; then she who waited for nothing else, told her, that it was St. Francis of Paula his Cord, and you see, Madam, I still wear his Habit: I was very much troubled with a pain in my Kidneys, since I lay in last, and knew not how to get any ease, when an old Woman, (whom I beseech God to bless continually for it, and who lives near the Minims of Place Royal) giving me a visit, did counsel me to take the Habit and Cord of St. Francis of Paula; and since I have been perfectly well. Says the old Gentlewoman, you do me the greatest kindness in the world to acquaint me with this news: Is there such a Friary of them? O yes, Madam, and a very lovely one too. I do assure you, that I will shortly get one to gird me withal; for I have such intolerable pains in my back that they even distract me. The good old Gentleman, who was now pretty well recovered, came in as we were just speaking thus: Ah! my Dear, says she, do you not see Mrs Isbell in the Habit, and with the Cord of St. Francis of Paula? She tells me that since she hath worn it, she finds herself very much relieved of a pain she had in her back, here, about the small; I will, an't please God, and if you will let me, Dearest, wear that holy Habit, and be of that Friary. I am very well contented you should, says her Husband; but it were convenient, that you should first speak to one of those good Fathers. Sir, replies Mrs. Isabella, I will take care of that, I know one who is a most zealously religious person; but besides, if you please, I will cause the Tailor, who made me this Suit, to come hither: Ay, do, with all my heart, said both the old Folks; and presently after, the Lady tripped away as cheerfully, as if she had been half cured already.  F. 
Ha! This went not much amiss for the first Scene.—  P. 
I will acquaint you with the sequel of it. The Tailor comes the next day to make her this Habit, and the day following fails not to wait upon her, with the principal of the Minims of Place-Royal, a person of a very venerable aspect, and one who had abundance of Crosses and Medals hanging at his Girdle; besides, he was a man that could speak rarely well, and he complemented our old Gentleman and his Lady in a most delicate stile. I remember amongst other things, he said, That when it was told him, how that her Ladyship would be one of the Third Order of St. Francis of Paula, the whole Friary testified a a most incredible joy at the news; (for it immediately ran throughout the whole Order) insomuch that it caused a public acclamation there; that it was not a greater honour for his most happy Patriarch to have been sent for by Lewis the XI., and to have been received at the Court of so great a King, than for himself, to have the freedom of Ingress and Regress into so pious and devout a Family, and to have the honour of being employed, to give her Ladyship the Habit and Cord of his Order: That indeed both the Habit and the Cord did appear in the eyes of the World, but as a vile and contemptible thing, and of a dark and dead Colour; but that in God's esteem, they were precious, and not only of a Lively, but of a Vivifying Colour: That clothing ones self with that dark Habit, her Ladyship did clothe herself with a Cloud, but that it was of one of those whereof Job did speak, which did enlighten; or else of that Cloud mentioned in Exodus, in which the Lord was pleased to cause his Glory to appear, Gloria Domini apparuit in nube; so that hereafter he did look upon her Ladyship not as a mortal person, but like unto that Angel in the Revelations, whom St. John saw clothed with a Cloud.  F. 
That Father did lift up himself very much in the Clouds: But however here is on this Habit very much Embroidery, both of the Old and New Testament.  P. 
After some other Compliments and Discourse, not belonging to our business; to prepare the Lady for the worthy receiving of this Habit and Cord, he read unto her a Lecture of the Rule of the Third Minimetan Order, contained in a small Book which he presented to her; how that by that Rule, the day you are received into the Friary, you must confess yourself and receive the Sacrament: Therefore, the next day, the Lady intending to be received, did acquit herself of all those pious duties in the Chapel of the House, Confessing herself to that good Father, hearing Mass, receiving the Sacrament and the Habit and Cord at his hands; but before she came to this last action, this venerable Patriarch, seeing you term them so, could not keep himself from playing one of his Pranks: He then acquainted this good old Lady, That although by the Rule of the Third Order of St. Francis of Paula, Lay-people were only to have the Cord with two Knots, as it is in the 7th page of the said Rule, yet notwithstanding to oblige her Ladyship, and to unite her to their Order by a more particular Tie, he did bring her a Cord with five Knots; the same which these Monks wear who are honoured with the Order of the Priesthood, that by that means she might enjoy all the Immunities, Prerogatives, Preeminences, Blessings and Unctions belonging to the Holy Priesthood, that as it was an extraordinary favour which as yet had not been granted to any Lay person, that the Concession might be the more sure and authentical, he had caused the whole number of Monks to assemble themselves, who unanimously had granted that privilege; whereof there was an Act passed, signed by the whole Fraternity, which they would cause to be ratified by the most Reverend Father General; which being done, the said Act should be recorded in their Register, for a perpetual memorial.  F. 
Ha! here were rare flourishes indeed, as soft as your Oil of Aramont.  P. 
After this, he reads the Indulgences which the Popes had granted to such who would be interred with the Habit of their Order, or should make choice of their Church for a burying place.  F. 
Dear God What did this good old Lady think?  P. 
He proceeded afterwards gravely, and with great Ceremony, to bless the Habit and Cord; which being done, the Lady undressed herself with the help of the Tailor, and Mrs. Isabel, who was assistant there, and then opens her Arms to take that Habit smoking hot with the Blessings which that Father had just then bestowed on them; but this Minime perceiving the Leather Girdle which she had on her Rains, begun to say, bending his brows, What do you wear there Madam? It is, says she, St. Augustine's Girdle. O mercy! you must leave it off, in case you will feel the effects of this holy Habit and sacred Cord: 'Tis not that I am against this devotion, but as the mixture of two Drugs hinders the effect of either; even so this Girdle and this Cord might hinder one another's virtue: Then I heard him, turning himself to Mrs. Isabel, whisper her in her ear, to make her leave of that nasty Arse-piece.  F. 
Rascals! how they buffet one another!  P. 
Then returning to his Discourse, he said first, that the Cord did in itself eminently contain the Girdles virtue, and that in this occasion, her Ladyship was to practise the words of Isaiah, who had said, Erit pro Zona funiculus, That the Rope should be in the room of the Girdle. This poor Woman hearing Isaiah named, did effectually believe that that Prophet had spoken of that Cord and Girdle; so that fearing to offend by her refusal, not only this Friar, but also Isaiah, she left off the Leather Girdle, to put on the Cord.  F. 
Ha, ha, ha, Where was the Augustine?  P. 
Let him alone, he will appear by and by. This Ceremony being ended, they went to Dinner, where this Father and his Companion were treated with most delicate marrionated Fish. The Lady to profess her devotion for her new Order, would only eat that which had been made ready for those Religious persons. After Dinner, Father Minime having taken his leave with all the Compliments belonging to Monk's civility, it happens that the Lady, having eaten of that marrionated Fish, found herself very ill, and was taken with a great pain in her Stomach, with an extreme Vomiting, this caused her to go to Bed: The other Monks, who had their Intelligencers in the House, having had notice thereof, were immediately at her Bedside, and read such a Lecture to her, that I cannot tell how to express.  F. 
Let us hear it as well as you can.  P. 
The Jacobin, who came first, not seeming presently angry to find the old Lady ensnared in the Minime 's Cord, told her, That he was very much satisfied to see her zeal for the Friaries; yet he could not approve of her being of them all, it being impossible by that multiplicity, to be able well to acquit one's self of each of 'em in particular; That of all the Friaries which were in the Church, those which did most keep us to the service of the Mother of God were doubtless the most excellent. But of all the devotions which piety had invented for to honour that Virgin, without all peradventure that of the holy Rosary was most agreeable to her, the most perfect, most meritorious, and the most rich. It was the most agreeable, in as much as the Rosary is a shortened Table, where may almost be seen represented all the Mysteries of our Religion; for those fifteen mysteries which it contains, are, as it were, fair Images where are perfectly beheld the Father Almighty's designs in the temporal birth of his Son, the accidents which happened to him during his childhood, in his hidden and unknown life, in his suffering and laborious life, in his glorious and immortal life; and in the same are also represented to us, the chief virtues which Mary made conspicuous during the term of her temporal life.  F. 
That Discourse did enlarge itself in abundance of matters.  P. 
More meritorious; for the practice of that devotion doth oblige us to exercise the chief and most meritorious Christian virtues, of Faith, Hope and Charity: For the repeating the Holy Rosary, with the attention and devotion due to it, the acts of a lively Faith are uncessantly renewed; by the Mysteries meditated upon, the acts of a perfect hope are reiterated towards him who is our summum bonum, chief good, whose greatness and power we then consider. You are launched without intermission into acts of a fervent charity, by the sentiments of Complacency, Joy, Love, Honours, Respect, and Thanksgiving towards him who is infinitely lovely and adorable, and whose love and goodness we do contemplate.  F. 
What babble are here? he sufficiently smoothed her up.  P. 
More Rich, by reason of a great number of Privileges and Indulgences which the most holy Father hath granted to such who would be received into that holy Friary, and would recite the Holy Rosary. Privileges and Indulgences, which are in greatness & richness without example; & truly such as will consider with attention, all the favours which the Popes have granted to several Congregations, and Religious Companies, he will find, that what is spread abroad, and parted between a great many, is found all together in the Company of the Holy Rosary; neither is there almost any Indulgence granted in favour of any work of piety and devotion, which is not also granted to those who shall repeat the Rosary.  F. 
hay day! This Brother Friar then preached a long-winded Sermon to the good old Lady: In the hearing of so many brave sayings, who could imagine those people to be guilty of so many horrid impieties? That they tempt Women to sin, yea, even in the very time of Confession? That they make of their Churches, places of Assignation? That they go into Bawdy-Houses, and are very much Poxed there?  P. 
Give me leave to make an end; So he (proceeding) said, It seems as if the Popes had heaped together all the treasure of the Church, casting them into the Furnace, and so to make a Coin in favour of the Rosary, of an inestimable price and value; and in this case may be truly said, what is set down in the Book of Wisdom: That many Damsels have gathered together vast riches; but that you go beyond them all.  F. 
This Dominican had very much reason to quote that place of Scripture, and to compare Friaries to such Lasses as had got together great store of Riches, for Friaries are your daughters of Religious Orders, which do enrich their Fathers. 'Tis this way that Monks get Money out of the People: But what did that Magpie say farther, for he seemed to make a mighty chattering noise?  P. 
He also alleged that Vrbanus 8th had granted a Bull, whereby the Banner of the Brotherhood of the Rosary did preceded all other Banners, excepting that of the Holy Sacrament.  F. 
But did he say nothing against the Habit and Cord which their old Lady had taken?  P. 
Oh! yes truly he did say, the small string wherein the Holy Rosary was threaded, being loaden with fifteen Pater Nosters, and One hundred and fifty Ave Maria's, was incomparably much more worth, and had infinitely more virtues than the Minims Cord, which at the highest, did not contain above Five knots, which as to the Act of devotion was in no wise the knot of the matter: Telling me softly, That if the Lady had a mind to take the Habit of any Order, it had been much better for her to have taken that of St. Dominicus, and to wear a Black Gown upon a White Petticoat, which had been much more seemly and decent, than to wear that ugly Habit, which resembles that of a Chimney-Sweeper.  F. 
This Dominican was most richly revenged of the Augustine.  P. 
Thereupon a Lackey came to tell her Ladyship, that the Capuchins were at the Gate, who had a desire to kiss her hand, and to know how she did. The Lady having given order for their admittance, the Dominican took his leave, and myself the care of re-conducting him. In going through the Hall, we met with those Capuchins coming in, who saluted us, without making any stop; but the Jacobin looking earnestly upon one of them, said to me, there is a Beard which is quickly shot out. What do you mean (said I) Father? He replied, it is not six Months since it hath been cut off. What! do Capuchins cut off their Beards? No, but this hath had an adventure, like unto that of sampson's Hair. What! replied I, was it cut off by the hands of some Dalila? (He smilingly answered me, that it had been cut off at least by one of her Sex): Now although I had a good mind to have gone to hear in what manner these Capuchins would Compliment the Lady about her distemper, and that which had been the cause thereof;— Yet I chose rather to hearken to this Story which the Jacobin had a mind to tell me; I pray then, said I to him, let me understand the adventure of this Beard. That Capuchin, replies he, whom you have there seen with that curious Beard, was in love at Lions with a pretty young Nun, (pray pardon me for not telling her name— nor that of the Nunneries which she belonged to) this Damsel, who was a very wag, and wanted no wit, at first made as if she approved of his passion, to have the pleasure to see to what height this Satire would push on his pretensions. One day then being full of the good hopes he had conceived of so prosperous a beginning, he made bold to crave a kiss of her, which she refused, but with an Air which gave him no reason to despair his obtaining of it another time. So then the day following returns our Lover, who causes this Lass to be called; she hearing that it was him, goes to him fully prepared; and the better to accomplish her design, she entreats him to go into a Parlour, which was without any company. Our blade desired nothing more willingly, being come into the Room with the object of his devoted affection, who for that very purpose received him with an inexpressible kindness, he began again to require a kiss, and to press her to grant him that pledge of her love, and to that end did advance his mussel through one of the holes of the Grates; then she seemingly going to kiss him, took him softly by the Beard, which he had thrust through, and at one snip, with a pair of Scissors she had in her hand, eased him of his Brusle-bush, saying afterwards, Adieu Father, this will serve me to make clean my Combs withal.  F. 
Ha! that Roguish snip of the Scissors, is as much in my esteem, as the blow which struck off Holofernes his Head; but in the mean time, take notice by this discourse, that the greatest enemy to Monks, are Monks themselves.  P. 
After I had laughed sufficiently with this Dominican at the adventure of the Beard, and was rallying upon what this unbearded Father could say at his return to the Convent, I, etc.  F. 
Without doubt he did as the Fox in the Fable, who having had his Tail cut off, did counsel his Companions to cut off theirs too.  P. 
We did not fail to think of that, and many other things besides; after this, I took leave of the Dominican, in hopes still to lay hold upon something in the Capuchins discourse with the Lady; but I came too late for that purpose, and found the Father as he was going out, saying to his Companion, 'tis a horrible thing of these Minims! how hot they are! certainly those lighted Torches which did appear in the House where St. Francis of Paula was conceived, did betoken the heat which should proceed from his Children: 'Tis not so to be interpreted (said I to him) they did signify the heat of Charity, wherewith those Religious persons were to be inflamed, whereof they also bear the Motto; it is affirmed, (replied the Capuchin) in the Saint's Life, that an Angel brought him a Scutcheon, where was writ that word Caritas; but it is more plainly visible in the life of his Children, that that Angel hath carried away the Scutcheon after their Father's death; and if they yet pretend to bear it, 'tis but with a Cross-bar, in token of Bastardise. Is it not a shameful thing, that those people, who have Rents coming in, enjoy Priories, have Tithes, Demeans, Castles and Lordships, should notwithstanding go to their little tricks and devices? Would you think that the Lady strait came and told me, that the Minime, who had given her the Habit and Cord of their Order, after he had heard her Confession, spoke to her for the choosing her burying place in their Church, to make a foundation for it, and to bestow something towards the building of their Portal? I know not, said I to him, what his discourse could be for so long time, but he kept her in talk above an hour. It was about that, said the Capuchin, that he did entertain her; but you know those people never intent to build a Portal, that so that might be always a pretence for their continual craving towards it: And if it be true, that by that feigned cheat, they have received money enough to build a hundred, were they all to be of marble, yet this would be a small matter, if they did not (as, sub rosâ, betwixt ourselves they do) make an infamous commerce together in the very Sacrament of penance. About a year since, I was coming down to Lions by water, with Monsieur de Lingendes Bishop of Mascon, who did me the honour of receiving me into his Boat; being over against a Convent, which they have upon the border of the River Saosna, in the Principality of Dombes; this Prelate was a telling me, that that was the Church which did absolve from all crimes, giving but a Crown to have Masses said. Those Fathers ought to have abundance to say. His Almoner, who was with him, and who formerly had served in a neighbouring Parish, told us that they did so mightily delude the people round about there, that there was not any body, never so little aforehand in the World, who did not bestow something in their favour; that upon that very account, they had above Twelve hundred Masses to say yearly; that no Will was made, in which they had not Dozen, nay Thirty, Forty Masses to say, and annual ones also; that besides that, there yearly happened above a Thousand Masses of Devotion for them to say; and moreover, there was no body did confess themselves within the said Church, to whom they did not ordain Masses for Penance; which did amount, when they were all computed, to above Eight thousand Masses per annum; That not being contented with this, they went into the Parishes, to suborn those Heirs who were charged to cause prayers to be made for the deceased, aquainting them, that they could say Masses, at least as well as Curates, and that they would dispatch them a great deal sooner; That he, being Almoner, having one day demanded of one of those Fathers, how it was possible for them to perform so many Masses, there being commonly within the said place not above four or five Priests? That Minime answered him, that the Pope had granted them the privilege of satisfying the retributions by one only Mass.  F. 
Pure packers up of Masses! but you do not come to the quarrel which they caused—  P. 
I must first tell you the Compliment which the Carmelite made, who was mightily Interessed, That our Lady should take up no Habit, but that of the Virgin, and who doubtless had broke out into high complaints, had not the Lady, seeing him coming up, uncovered her Arm, where she had his Scapulary, and not presented him her hand to touch it, as if it were to make peace: For all this, the Carmelite did not fail to tell her, that she must needs have but little confidence in that holy Habit, seeing she could be easily prevailed upon to take another; that he was apt to believe, she had committed this error only for want of good instruction, and for not knowing truly the worth and excellency of that Habit of the Virgin. (A little Habit of our Lady of Mount Carmel, pag. 9) Says he, If nothing be more precious than those gifts which come from Heaven, we ought to esteem, beyond all conception, the Holy Scapulary, seeing it hath been given us by the most pure hands of the Holy Virgin, Mother of God, and Queen of Angels, by the person of the most happy St. Simon Stock, when he was General of his Order of Carmelites; besides, that in bestowing the same on us, she hath enriched us with all the treasure of Grace, honoured us with the title of her Children, even her Brothers, armed us against all the perils of life, strengthened us against all the temptations of the evil one, especially at the point of death, and given us a singular easy way, of totally freeing ourselves from the pains of Purgatory, or at least to have them soon at an end. Afterward he told her the words which the holy Virgin had pronounced to Simon Stock their General, when she said to him, Receive, my beloved one, this Scapulary of thy Order, the mark of my Friary, and privilege for thyself and for all the Carmelites, in which whosoever dies, shall not suffer eternal pain. This is the sign of Salvation, a safety in dangers, a treaty of peace, and an everlasting Covenant.  F. 
Si credere fas est, (if we may believe it) this Carmelite should have set up a Brokers-shop; for it did belong to his Trade to sell Garments.  P. 
It is likely (Madam) proceeded he, that you have not known all these Prerogatives, and that you have been most grossly abused, seeing that you, having this honourable Habit, could resolve to take up another, which is not more civil, neither hath it any more virtue, than those Goatskins, wherein oil is put and carried about.  F. 
Wretched Hounds-feats! How they tear to pieces that holy Habit! now than their only remains the Augustine.  P. 
'Twas he who played the last act of the Comedy, but it was in scolding severely.  F. 
I wish I had heard it.  P. 
Coming to the Lady, and enquiring after the state of her health, he did all he could to keep in his Resentment; but at last he was fain to explain himself thus: I have been for some time, Madam, musing at your Gate, being in doubt where I was, whether I should come in or no, not daring to believe that you would once so much as cast your eyes upon poor Monks, after your having put yourself under the conduct and direction of Prelates. The Lady, who knew no more than myself, what this Augustine intended to say, answered him very mildly, that it was a long time since she had seen any of those Gentlemen; Madam, replied the Augustine, all those who term themselves Prelates have not a Mitre on; There are some Monks, nay of the meanest of them all, who have the vanity to attribute to themselves that illustrious name. I do not, as yet, comprehend your meaning, says she to him: You have not then, says the Father to her, read the Rules of the Minims Third Order, in which you are enrolled. Madam, you will find there, that those people, whom their blessed Patriarch would have termed Minims', that is to say, the least of all, and to whom he hath given humility for a particular Character; that those people dare (I say) be qualified with the title of Lords and Prelates, even in their Rules; in the which at lest they ought to make a seeming show of professing that virtue. We have not seen that, replied the Lady, but we have here the Book, and it will be easy to be satisfied therein; which Book being brought, the Augustine took it, and caused us to see, that what he had said was the truth. I read it there myself, and have since very often seen, that in the Seventy eighth page, they call themselves Lords: That in another place there are these words (Rule of the 3d Order of St. Francis of Paula, p. 116. 122, and 139.) Then the Prelate conducts the person to kiss the Altar. In another may be read, Then the Prelate, and all other persons who are present shall fall on their knees. And in another, Then the Prelate answers. These are, Madam, continued the Augustine, the Prelates of whom I am speaking. What! do you think that Monks have the vanity, nay, rather impertinence, to term themselves Prelates, under pretence that they have the power to give a sorry woollen Cord? But is it not yet worse, to see Hermit's to have built adjoining to the Place Royal? The Minims, said I, interrupting him, are they Hermit's? Says he to me, they have been instituted under the name of Hermit's of St. Francis of Assize, and approved as such by Eugenius IV, and by Alexander VI, under the name of Hermit's of the Order of Minims. Is not the Royal Place a lovely, curious, Hermitage? And have they not the exact mien of Hermit's, with their Beards at all times shaved off? Who hath ever seen Hermits frolic with Ladies in the Church? Who hath seen Anchorites make presents of Romish and Granoble Gloves to Ladies, and to give them stately Collations? To load them with sweetmeats, and to cause them excessively to eat, whatever is most exquisite and rare in the Shops of the Fair of St. Germane? Have Hermits been ever seen playing the Fool with Pistols, smoking, and carousing in Alehouses, as they do in their little by-places? Who ever saw Anchorites lay wagers with young-women, and for a last insolency, to show and offer them Purses full of Gold? Thus, Madam, do they employ their Mass-Money which they impose upon people for Penance; thus is lavished and squandered away your Money of your Stock, that of Foundations, of Sermons, and of the Friary: and yet these very persons have had the power to prevail with you to leave off your Girdle of St. Austin, which Elias, St. John Baptist, nay the Virgin herself have not disdained to wear. Yes, Madam, you have left that ancient Girdle, to take up a wretched Cord, which hath neither virtue nor recommendation; which is the offcast of some scabby-sheep, and whose first miracle proved the procuring of a sickness to yourself. The Father speaking these things with an extreme vehemency, made the good Lady to be mightily troubled at it; and she told him that in truth, she had drawn some ill omen from the discourse the Minime had made her, who had given her the Habit and the Cord, having so extremely pressed her to make a Foundation, and to choose her Sepulchre in their Church; and that she was angry with Mrs. Isabel, for having been the occasion of her being of that Fraternity; and that she would be glad if she could tell how handsomely to shake off that Habit and Cord, in case she knew what to do with them. Madam, replies the Augustine, as for the Habit you may give it to some poor Woman, and as for the Cord, I will make with it a Whip, to drive out the Dogs which come to our Church.  F. 
Ah! he was in insolent Rascal for his pains, to profane in such a manner a Cord, which goes beyond Blue ones.  P. 
'Twas done as it was said, there was an Alms made of the Habit: the Lady re-invested herself with the Leather-Girdle, and the Augustine carried away the Cord with five knots to employ in the whipping of Dogs.  F. 
Alas poor Cord! thou art mightily disgraced! But did not the Prelates come to make their Complaints?  P. 
The Porter had orders to deny them admission, and to acquaint them, that they had no business there. So they having had notice by Mrs. Isabel of this strange alteration, they did not appear, and resolved in a full Chapter, not to give the Cord any more to old women; neither for the time to come, to gird any with it but young persons.  F. 
As indeed they very punctually do.  P. 
Hereupon I had notice that my Uncle was dying, which caused me with speed to depart, to prevail upon his good nature and tenderness, to settle me in his Benefice; so that I left my old Gentleman and his Lady in the hands of those people.  F. 
That is to say, in Hugster's hands. But had they no kindred, no friend to enlighten their eyes, that so they might see the claws of those Harpies for the future?  P. 
The Gentleman had for his friend and gossip an honest Citizen, one Marguillier of St. Eustace, who did abhor the seeing those innocent people so miserably ensnared in those Impostors Nets. But he durst not openly declare, for fear the Monks should play him some slippery trick. If I was not afraid (said he to me) of bringing those Wasps upon myself, I would freely declare my thoughts to those people, and would easily pluck them out of the hands of those Rake-hells; but in case they should discover that 'twas I who had disabused them, they would make me to be looked upon in my Neighbourhood for a vile wretch, and for a man that had no Religion.  F. 
He had reason to fear it; for when Monks do take a pick against any one, they go crying them down everywhere, blackening and bespattering them in their Conversations, Confessions, and in the Pulpit.  P. 
Is it not very sad, proceeded he, that the Garden of the Church, which hath been planted by the Son of God, watered by his blood, and by that of his Apostles, and his Martyrs, should be gnawed, and eaten up by those cursed and base Caterpillars? That the Popes, Kings, Bishops, and Parliaments not being ignorant of their excess, do not suppress them, and bring these disorderly and masterless persons to the observing of their Rules. I have admired a Thousand times, how it comes to be suffered in a well-governed State, that Sixty thousand idle fellows, who have only the name and Habit of Monks, do live fat and in good plight at the charge of the people, without having their crimes punished, not acknowledging either Seccular or Ecclesiastical Justice; and not to be subject to any for chastisement, but only to go up and down from one Convent to another.  F. 
The Church will never be able to attribute to itself the Elogium which is given her of being without Spot, as long as she shall have such Monks, which may justly be termed the shame of the Christian world, the scandal of Religion, and the dishonour and infamy of the Church. That it is very fit their excesses and debauches should be known, that they ought not to be Confessors, till after the age of threescore years; because those Villains make use of the Tribunals of Penance, to discover women's and Maid's dispositions: That there they put to them beastly and unchaste Interrogatories, that they solicit them, and induce them to sin; so that Confession is not made to the salvation, but the destruction of their Souls: And that if amongst the good Pastors, and true Directors, Confessing is the Pool of proof, where after that the Angel had troubled the Waters, all kind of diseases were cured; now, with most of the Monks, 'tis a stinking Lake, where Souls are Poisoned, and where those Devil's fish in troubled Waters. That it is now a seat of wickedness, and that the Son of God receives more affronts and injuries at that Tribunal, than he received at Caiaphas', Pilat's & Herod's hands. That those Vagabonds ought to be Cloistered up, to prevent their running abroad; because two steps can scarce be taken in the Streets, without meeting one Monk or other. That such Women who spend their time in prating with them at the doors of their Convents, or in their Churches, aught to be declared infamous; that those wretched persons who give up themselves wholly to them, aught to be cut off, and those Rascals to be severely chastised, when they are found in a Bawdy-house; that they ought not to be permitted to appear in processions, being a scandal to the World, with their Noses full of Rubies, by their drunkenness and other debauches. That they ought to be shut out of people's doors, by reason that those Seducers enter, only to sow divisions in Families, to corrupt Wives, Daughters and Servant-Maids. I say moreover, that as long as we have Monks, (such as they are at present) the Huguenots will have cause to laugh and to jeer us, that they ought to think themselves happy for being free from that Vermin; that the Hood is a nest of Hypocrisy, that 'tis the mouth of Hell, the Box of Pandora, and mark of Reprobation. That the being called to a Monastical state, is one of the most dangerous temptations which the Devil can give a young man up to; that 'tis the broad-road way to destruction, so far is it from being a state of acquired perfection, as those Rascals affirm. Whosoever speaks of a Monk, speaks of a Seducer of the people, a corrupter of the Feminine Sex, an Artist of Impostures, a disguised forger of Miracles, a Salesman of Mysteries, a Trader of Indulgences, a Retailer of Masses, a profaner of Altars, an applauder of Relics, an abuser of Chapels, a jingler of Medals, a proclaimer of holidays, a contriver of Fraternities, an idolater of Images, a toll-taker of dead Bodies, a scummer of Churches, and a horseleech of the Crucifix. That a Monk is a Bird of ill omen, a Spy, a Surprise, a Rakeshame, a man in Masquerade, a Devil Incarnate, an emissary of Hell, a man without Faith and without Law, a canker in Commonwealths, a plague in Houses, an enemy to God and men; That the Frock is a Sack of Iniquity, and that it is a glorious and meritorious action to throw it off, not amongst Nettles, but even in a Jaques amongst, etc.  P. 
You have done well to throw off yours, and to have Secularised yourself: But we have now discoursed sufficiently concerning Monks; Let's go and eat a bit for a repast. Adieu.  
FINIS.   

Some Books Printed for, and sold by Jonathan Edwin, at the Three Roses in Ludgate-street.  
ROman-Forgeries, or a true account of false Records; discovering the Impostures, and Sergeant Antiquities of the Church of Rome: in Octavo.  
The True Liberty, and Dominion of Conscience Vindicated, from the Usurpations and Abuses of Opinion and Persuasion; in 8vo.  
The Countermine; or a short, but true discovery of the dangerous Principles, and secret Practices of the dissenting party; especially the Presbyterians, showing that Religion is pretended, but Rebellion is intended: And in order thereto, the Foundation of Monarchy in the State, and Episcopacy in the Church are undermined.