A satire AGAINST Atheistical Deism With the Genuine Character of a DEIST To which is Prefixed, An account of Mr. AIKINHEAD's NOTIONS, Who is now in Prison for the same Damnable APOSTASY.  
By MUNGO CRAIG S. Ph. & Sac. Th.  

Do you Admire, why with Satiric Rhyme,  
I Scourge the whifling Scoundrels of the Time?  
To be resolved, turn over the Page, and you  
The Justice of my Quarrel will avow,  
And must Adopt the same; if you be not  
A silly Fop, or Epicurean Sot.   

Semper ego auditor tantum? nunquamque reponam  
Vexatus toties—  
Si Natura negat, facit indignatio versum  
Qualemcunque potest. Quales ego—   Juven. Sat. 1. 
EDINBURGH, Printed for Robert Hutchison, and Sold at his Shop in the Head of the Colledge-Wind. M. DC. XCVI.   

A Catalogue of the Works promised to the World, by T. Aik. Gent. the merest Don Quixot in Nature, but one of the principal Patrons and Promoters of the Witty, I would have said, Witless Sect.  
I. DEath Dead and Buried without hope of Resurrection; or, A discovery of the as incomparable, as impossible, Aurum Potabile Aikinheadaeum, i. e. Chimaericum: Being a Sovereign Antidote, against all external and internal Causes of Death: And when applied by Art, can raise the Dead, and perfect the imperfect works of Nature: Yea, it can cure a Man, although he were cloven in twain, or, to give you the Authors own Phrase, Tho' he were speldered like a dry Haddock.  
II. Machina Dedalaea magna atque nova; or, A new Engine of the same use in Air that Ships are in Water; whereby we may have easy Commerce with the other Vortices, and especially with the World in the Moon.  
III. The Indies in a Crucible; or, An expeditious, infallible and cheap way of making the Philosopher-Stone, in four Hours time, and for 4 sh. expenses, being an excellent Proposal for maintaing the present War, without troubling the lieges either for Pol-penny or Hearth-money.  
IV. Lux e tenebris; or, A clear Refutation of all the Self-evident Principles of Reason, with the establishment of those of Nonsense, exactly Calculated to the Capacity of Blockheads, whereby they may be able to toss any Thing (extempore) pro & con, without the help of the Lullian Art.  
V. The Power and Extent of Imagination demonstrated; or, The way of working All Things by Exalted Fancy; especially of bringing the Author to the Gallows, if not to the infernal Lake.  
By what is here said, concerning Mr. Aikinhead's ridiculous Works, the Reader may easily judge how Frothy and Crackbrained a Fellow he is. But should we trouble you with a Recital of his damnable Extravagancies in Divinity, it would prove no less ungrateful Task to our Pen, than nauseous to any Pagan, let be Christian Ear, being a complete Aggregat of all the Blasphemies that ever were vented, maintained, or excogitated, by the Atheistical Ministers of Satan in all Ages, with an Overplus of his own Coining: So, that without Envy, he may be denominated the Non plus ultro of Atheism.  
Lest any think that this is only a Calumny cast either upon the Party or Person forenamed; the Book-binder promises, in name of the Author, to produce a considerable Number of Witnesses, who can give their Oath that they heard him boast of the abovementioned ridiculous Notions.   

A satire against DEISM.  

GReat GOD! what dire Enimity, do I  
'Mongst my divided Faculties espy.  
How, in the Palace of my Soul, each Power  
Another fiercely threatens to devour.  
Which Horror and Confusion, in the end,  
Do civil War and bloody Jars protend;  
Unless All-ruling Providence direct  
Another Event, than we do expect,  
Or Man from second Causes could detect.  
For while with resolute and factious Bands,  
My partial Judgement, selfishly gain-stands  
The venting of my Rage, against the Proud  
Ungodly Scumms, and Self-conceited Crowd;  
(Not, that it doth not judge them worth the Strips  
Of Juvenal and Horace, or the whips  
Of bitter Perseus; but, that still it pleads  
Self-impotence for such Heroic Deeds:)   

My lofty Will, inflamed with zealous Fire,  
T' achieve more Noble Projects hath desire;  
Despising private Infamy, the stain  
Of Clown or Poetaster doth disdain.  
When great Jehovah's thought-surpassing Love  
Toward His undeserving Creatures, move  
The Wheels of my Affections, swelled to see  
This scoffed at, with an impious We-hee,  
Of Hell's abortive Brood; Or when the Right  
And Dignity of Humane Souls: the Light  
And Product of sound Reason do compete,  
With the small Credit of my humble state.   

O Joys! I see the Cub-web Sophistry,  
That did misguide my Judging Faculty,  
Dispelled, and her resolving to fulfil  
The Dictates of the better-guided Will.   

Then let the Spring tide of my Passions rise,  
T' its greatest height; and O! that I had thrice  
As great a Force, as e'er in Mortal yet,  
Our Natural Constitution did permit.  
For why should I suspect the Breach of Bounds?  
When, though they were composed of Rage of Hounds,  
Wolves, Bears, with Viper's Tongues & Adder-stings,  
The Quintessence of Choler, and all things  
That savour both of Madness and of Rage,  
When on improper Objects they assuage  
Their extreme Fury, then though ne'er so large,  
Would be impotent found for such a Charge,  
As I'm obliged now to engage them in;  
To whip the maddest-Heaven-daring Sin,  
That e'er was hatched in Hell, or acted upon  
This Universal Theatre; since the Throne  
Of Soul-destroying Sin began to show,  
It's Sacrilegious Tragedy below.  
A Sin! which, tho' Natures engrafted Light,  
And all Gods holy Councils, with Despite,  
It totally rejects; and doth deny  
An other Notion of a Deity,  
Than what of mere Repugnancies is coined,  
A Sorry maimed bugbear, where disjoined  
Are all th' essential Attributes divine,  
That in an independent God combine.   

Yet marching from th' infernal Lake in State,  
And Equipage of Hell, Malice and Hate,  
Undaunted Impudence and strong Delusion.  
Satanick Rage, and Machines' of Confusion:  
To act the devils utmost Spite, and try  
How this last powerful Scene of his Envy,  
Can the Foundations of Christ's Kingdom shake,  
And spread the Jurisdiction of his Lake.  
Hath so possessed some Epicurean Beasts,  
Stun'd with the Fumes of wine, luxurious feasts  
And hellish Magic, void of saving Grace,  
Pedantic Bruits, who neither time nor space  
On Truth's investigation can bestow,  
Vain glorious Nothings with an empty show:  
●hat briskly reeling, where the roving Light  
●f misled Fancy, terminates their sight:  
●elight themselves to catch at empty Wind,  
●nd Creatures of an ill-distracted Mind;  
●ill utterly they, lacking Sense and Terror,  
●e lost, in Satan's Labyrinth of Error.   

And yet a Drunkard, or distempered Man,  
Who, rising from his Couch of Rest, doth scan,  
●y Night, a Precipice, led by the vain  
imagination's of his troubled Brain:  
●nows as much of the Danger he is in,  
●s they do of their ex●ecrable Sin.   

Yet these our Hero's be, profoundly wise,  
Who Things Divine and Humane so despise,  
●lown up with airy Possibilities,  
And Sceptick-doubting of all Destinies,  
Huffing at Reason, like the Cuckoo cry,  
Begun! God, Christ, Scripture and Piety,  
Let's Eat and Drink, to Morrow must we die.   

Such be the scurvy Wittling who deplore,  
That we a Wise and Loving GOD Adore,  
●n Whom we Move, in Whom we Live & Be,  
Who, from Sins dreadful Slavery, set us free,   

Such only, do reject all called Divine,  
And swear, no Spirits exists, but those of Wine.  
Dubbed Knights of Nonsense, yet in their conceits  
Wits of the Age, who can Gigantic Feats  
Perform at Reasoning; whereas they know  
As little as an Ass, what's truly so.  
Those be the course-grained Philosophs, who stuff  
Their Heads with Contradictions & pure Buff,  
Chimaeras coined in Hell and horrid Fopp'ry,  
Surpassing Transubstantiating popery.   

Such are as wild in sound Philosophy;  
And Law, as in profound Theology.  
Such are the blazing Comets that attract  
Th' Amazement of the Novel-catching Pack.  
Whose sluttish Minds, drowned in the Lethargy  
Of Ignorance, black Singularity  
So eagerly affect, that rather they  
Will damn their Souls, than walk the Vulgar way  
And since they can't, to eternize their Name,  
Erect a lasting Monument of Fame,  
They'll choose by far the shorter course to take,  
And headily themselves resolve to make  
Famous for Infamy, by running down  
What they don't understand, just as a Clown  
would mock, to hear us prove, that Phoebus' bright  
Descended to our Antipodes all Night;  
And did surmount in Magnitude so far,  
This vast and spacious Glob whereon we are.  
Who would believe, with Mahomet, that he,  
All Night, were rather drowned in the Sea.  
Or, with Old Epicure, would sing a Sonnet,  
That he were little bigger than his Bonnet.  
A Course! of such successful operation.  
That all the Blockhead Swineherds of the Nation,  
Might, in a point of Time, brisk Wits commence  
And singl, arise themselves for men of Sense.   

Yet such are they, who Scoffingly deride  
Those sacred Mysteries, which we ought to dread  
Such Giants, with Loud-laughters empty Phrase  
Our Rational and Holy Faith debase:  
And yet when they opugned, can nought proffer,  
But what one less than a Philosopher  
Without the straining of his Wit could solve,  
And to its Native-nothing make't dissolve.  
Since that, upon its Front th' infamous Brand  
Of Falsity self-evident doth stand  
And since the Fundamentals of their Light  
Dissents from Reason, as the day from night.  
And more, when they defend the monstrous Bees  
Of their half-codled Brains and hellish Lies,  
The very Light of Nature they'll deny;  
And with a brazen Countenance will cry,  
I know't 'tis Nonsense if it but dessent  
From this my demonstrable Sentiment.  
As if their Crazy Noddles only were  
Th' Unerring Rule, of all we should aver.   

But sirs, would it not be a pretty sport,  
To see Baboons, Aps and th' inferior sort  
Of Animals, with Mock'ry to despise  
Scholastic Demonstrations of the wise;  
And Scoff at deep-drawn policy of Sat,  
Because 'tis far above their humble fate,  
To judge of Matters of so high a rate.   

What shall we say then, of those cursed curs  
who still resolve, with diabolick Slurrs.  
God's mighty power and wisdom to reject  
And providential Ruling to neglect;  
Because their purblind Souls the Mystery.  
Can't Sound of Divine Christianity.  
Hence of us Men if different Species were,  
On Corrolary sure I could infer:  
That like us only in our outward shape.  
To be Created was their harder hap,  
Devoid of that reflexive power so bright,  
Which from the Soul dispels the cloudy Night  
Of Ignorance, and high conceited Wit,  
Which is a sure Concomitant of it.  
And shows us, from each object that we see,  
That so profess Socratic Modesty,  
Is to be wise; while of our flut'ring Souls  
The high flown-aims, gross muddy Earth controls.   

But, could Job's Patience suffer one to hear,  
(Without atrembling, Terror, Wrath & Fear,)  
Those Sycophants, sprung from th' accursed line  
Of Judas, with the Devil now combine,  
Under the Name of Deist; to essay  
If they God, Good, and Reason can betray.  
A Deist! oh! how far's this from the thing,  
That their Assertions in my Fancy bring,  
A greater distance is not surely found  
By Thought, in that Vacuity profound;  
Wherein their Atoms merrily did Dance,  
When they were Modified thus by Chance.  
For Men t' acknowledge that there is a GOD,  
And not a Providence! O thing most odd!  
And if a Providence, than not to be  
A Christian, is an odder thing to me.  
Methinks a Stoic Moralist, who knew  
The Reasons why I whip so mad a Crew;  
Might be convinced, how hard it is to fight,  
'Gainst what inheres in us, by Nature's Right:  
And learn from hence, that none of innat dower,  
Lacks its own proper Use, had we the power  
To Use't aright, unless that we (like Stocks  
Or Stones) were Metamorphosized to Rocks.  
When all th' Intelligences that do dwell,  
I' th' upper Regions, or yet out of Hell,  
Except a Deist, in their proper way,  
Banners of sullen Frowning still display,  
To see the Race of Mankind so decay.   

Ungrateful Monsters, Slaves of Hell and Sin!  
O! that each Curse and Plague pronounced within  
That Sacred Volumn, which with Scoffing ye  
Reject, may on you verified be.  
On you more woe', ten Thousand times, denounced  
From Heaven let be, than Ovid hath pronounced  
Against his Ibis, and O that the God,  
Whose  ' established Councils ye Revile, the Rod  
Of His intolerable Wrath may put  
In execution, and in pieces cut,  
Your good-contemning Carcases, before  
In Tophet ye be scorched for evermore.  
Let every thing in Heaven Earth and Hell  
Concur, this Pestilence of Sin to quell;  
And make th' infected, Monuments of Wrath,  
For Confirmation of our Christian Faith:  
Except, whom God's unsearchable Decree,  
Culls out for Objects of His Clemency.  
But oh! though we by Charity are bound,  
This venerable Abyss not to sound,  
Wherein the prying Seraphims are drowned.  
Yet in the Sacred Pages nought I find,  
But Ruin for a Christ-denying Mind.  
O Times! O Manners! may I justly cry,  
Will Scotland nourish such Apostasy?  
A Covenanted People! and even while  
Such Glorious Sunshine over-spreads the Isle!  
Shall this than be th' effect of Gospel Light?  
To petrisy our Hearts and dim our Sight  
In Things of God? if it be so, no less  
Than Famine, Sword, and Pestilent Distress  
I Prophecy: Neither by taking part  
With Delphos, Magic, or Stargazing Art:  
But from a reasonable Scrutiny  
Into th' eternal Rolls of Verity.  
Which do more Plagues 'gainst such a Case protest  
Than ever Egypt's Borders did infest;  
Or yet on Sodom and Gomorrah fell,  
With all the Punishments reserved for Hell.   

Come! let a Rational and Holy Flame,  
Of Zeal to Christ and God's most glorious Name,  
Our Nation's Honour, and our Christian Right,  
Inspire God's Deputes with Celestial Light,  
Who sit at Justice: That they may atone  
with Blood, th'affronts of heavens offended throne:  
And turn away that Deluge of God's Ire,  
Which threatens us worse than devouring Fire.  
Oyes! all Sons of Adam eat the way,  
And Commerce of the Witlings o'the Day;  
As if he Furies of the Dungeon deep,  
The noisome Entry, thereunto did keep:  
Would I intrust that Monster with a Straw,  
To whom Self-intrest is so much a Law,  
That all to this subordinate must be.  
Drowned so in stupid Sensuality,  
That only this he studies as his End,  
From worldly Cares his Carcase to defend:  
All ye on whom right Reason to its Throne  
Advanced by Divine Oracles hath shown,  
By Grace illuminated to that pitch,  
That perverse Prejudice cannot bewitch.  
Lo! here's a Trial of your zealous Love,  
And Touchstone to your Faith sent from Above.  
Endure with Courage then, your Royal Yoke:  
For ye are surely builded on a Rock.   

In fine; Remember ye, who 'gainst the High,  
And Holy One, Who blessed Eternity  
Inhabits, vomit out proud Blasphemy  
Those, whom He hath examplifi'd before,  
And that e'er long, ye'll Tremble and Adore,  
Among your Brother Wits: who ne'er could be  
Persuaded that there was a Deity,  
Who punished Sin: Till wholly stun'd with Evil  
They got as much Religion as the Devil.   
FINIS.   

THE GENUINE CHARACTER OF A DEIST.  
A Deist Reduplicatively Considered, falling neither under the Laws of Description, nor legitimat Definition, may be called a mere. I wot not what. Nor can we have a notion of him any other way, than the Vulgar has of Nothing, when they define it, A Bodiless Shirt wanting the Sleeves, viz. By Amputation of all Realities, Yet I'm of Opinion, that he is more apositly termed, An accidental aggregat of Contradictions actually existent, which is the greatest Paradox, that ever was offered to a Philosopher. Or an Eas rationis objectively taken, not only having an Ideal, but a real existence: Which is a Degree beyond any Sophister, that ever pretended to that Chimaera. And hence we have light in the very Fundamentals of his Nonsense; first why he is so virulent in propugning his beloved Fortuitous concourse: And why impossibile est idem simul esse et non esse, eodem respectu: with other Principles of the like Quality, has so little weight with him: Seing he can produce himself, as an undeniable conviction of their Falsities. He may be fitly called an incomparable Hero of Wit, and is truly as impregnable by Reason, as the Bass by blank Powder; having not left so much as Archimedes his Punctum for you to build upon. And that day, in which you prove any thing against him, at least convince him that you have done so; I'll prove the Moon to be made of Green Cheese; especially so long as he keeps his Achillean distinction; Secundum vestrum, cognoscendi modum Co. Secundum meam nego. He pretends to be a great Friend to Reason, which nevertheless he's as much acquainted with, as an Ass with Mathematics; and truly ere you and he agree, you must divest yourself of that Armour; for he's a Sceptic of the first Magnitude, and the chiefest of that size too; for discourse him upon never so cleat and evident Truths, you must of necessity run in Infinitum to prove 'em; since he acknowledges no Principles, further than they serve his turn. And I dare swear he'd put a crack-brained Philosopher out of his Wits, either to prove or defend, that it were himself. He's General Generalissimo of Sophisters; for so long as he keeps within the Burrows of his Warren, which are contrived more Artificially for his purpose, than Daedalus his Labyrinth, you'll never catch him: And if you follow him in, I'll promise you a Foil before you come out again, seeing he has deprived you of the Cord of Reason to lead your way back. For he applies the objects of Sense to be judged by the Intellect, & vice versa; and that so dextrously, that in all the Justice of he World he might be dubbed Knight-errant of Juggling or Leiger-demain; and for this end, he has prepared an Helmet of Adamant; and a complete Coat of Armour consisting of loud Laughter, huffing and nauseating disdain for a Shield with this motto, Nego totum etiam antequam audiverim: His Lance is made of Reviling, Calumniating, Cursing and Lying: his Sword is much of affinity to the same Metal, being framed of Sophistical quibbles, having as little connexion among themselves, as dependence upon the self-evident principles of Reason. And how can any conceive it to be otherwise when it was forged by the Father of Lies, upon the Anvil of Falsity And whereas a Christian has no back-peice to be a Defence in his flight, he hath this to brag of above him, that he has one, which is a Sluggish Carelessness whatever come of his Opinion, providing that his Body be well. You'd think that he were a Monkish Hermit at his Devotion, if you saw how seriously he looks, when he deplores the World's Stupidity in paying a Reasonable Service to God their Creator, Preserver and Redeemer. He bears the same Love to Churchmen, that Cats does to Mustard: for he Wrayes his Face bitterly when he sees or hears 'em; & it's no wonder, if we consider that there's as much Enmity betwixt them, as between a Basalisks and a Man. He's so great a lover of Monarchy, that to have a pretence to the Title, he's content to attribute the same to all Mankind; and to have it Absolute, he calls all civil power such, whether it be Aristocracy, Democracy, or Monarchy. And to attain his End (as he thinks) the more honourably, he rejects the Notions of Good and Evil, but in so far as they contribute to, or opugn his Designs: As likewise those of Justice, and Injustice. Before mutual Paction, which he resolves never to make sure, as long as he can keep his darling of Mental Reservation, and that he may turn his Coat with the times under the pretence of Reason, he has learned this among the rest from his Apostle Hobb's, to keep stive with the Strongest. and will cite that of the Poet, Tempora mutantur & nos mutamur in illis, ● for a sufficient Authority. He is so biggor on Singularity and Fame that to acquire both, he feeds on Nonsense, as Toads does on Filth & Venom And because he cannot be singular for Rationality, which is the common Attribute of human Nature; he degrades himself to a Beast, and turns Irrational. He disdains I Confess to swear in any one Philosopher's words, but under the Notion of philosophic Liberty, and free use of Reason, has stored the Magazine of his Brain, with all the ridiculous Fopprie, that either fell by Inadvertancy, Contention, Malice or Ignorance, from the pens of Ancient and Modern Philosophers. Wherefore, he's highly enamoured, with Aristotel's Eternity of the world, paucis mutatis, with Epicure's Denial of Providence, and fortuitous production of the Universe, with his denial of the Souls Immortality; and especially with his Assertion that temporal Pleasure is the Summum bonum, or lastend of Mankind, and inveighs against Gassendus, for spending so much pains in vindicating the Old Dotard from this Brand of Infamy, which he accounts his chiefest Glory. Nor is he less taken with Des Cates his Dubitation, adoring it as a chief Pillar of his Scepticism and his Vortices, with the assertion, that Mater and motion being granted, all could fall out as they are, without the concurrence of an intelligent overruling Power. This differing nothing from Epicure, but that the Particles lack a Vocuum to honorable and dance in. He likewise animadurerts an admirable Congruence, betwixt this Author's Clockworks animals, and Epicurus his denial of the Souls Immortality; For (says he) Men and Beasts vary only in the more and the less. He no less savours this Authors rejecting of the Consideration of Final Causes in Physics, interpreting it to be an implicit denial of Providence. But lest I weary you with his Nonsenfe, it shall suffice to indicat what for a Philosopher he is, to declare what cursed Author's are his dearest darlings; which are, first the excellent Head-pice of Malmsbury the incomparable (for Nonsense to Wit,) Theologue and Philosoph Spinoza, with Lucretius Redivivus, I mean Blunt's Oracles of Nonsense. He's so great an Affector of Novelties (& that so much the more in how much they contradict Sense & Reason) that he looks upon the Author's of them, as second solomon's, or third Cato's fallen from Heaven And although, he reject all Histories that are above Forty Years old, for mere Romances, yet, he is as didactical, in in the Embrios of his Fancy, which he thinks may serve his turn any way, as if you had seen it with your Eyes; tho' he feign it to have been done Forty Thousand Years since. And hence it is, that he will rather believe, that there are Rosy-crusian Chemists wandering about the World in aereal Vehicles, than that there ever was such a Man as Moses or julius Caesar; for which cause he has a very ill gust of Mr Lock's Moral way of Demonstration, however well he may please other parts of his works But to extricat ourselves from this stinking Tale, he's a transcendental Evil (which is another Paradox, or rather, Rhetorical Hyperbole, tho' not so far strained as Sublimi feriam sidera vertice) or if you will, he is a Constellation fixed in direct opposition to all Good, composed of Malice, Hatred and Self-conceit, which two first, are as inseparable from the last, as Heat from Fire; and is truly the greatest plague that can be inflicted on a human Society, tho' he accounts himself the primum mobile of it. He surpasses the most malevolent of all the Devils, in every thing except knowledge; and happy is't for the World that 'tis so ordered, for had he knowledge preportionate to his Diabolical Qualities, he would degrade Lucifer, and lead the Van of Hell himself; for fear of whose Tyranny the Furies themselves would tremble. If you speak seriously to him he'll swear you're an Enthusiast, and 'tis as great folly to discourse him that way, as to read Moral Dissertations to an Ass. He's a mere Ape mounted on the pegasian Wings of a rampant Imagination, delighting himself to rove in an imaginary Vacuity, where he eager pursues the Quary which his ill-codled Brains exhibites to him; ignorant that he shall incontinently tumble into the infinite Abyss of a bottomless Pit. Or, he's a Galleass of the first Rate, of the kingdom of Darkness, tossed by the wind of Pride in an Ocean of Folly, were the Devil personally drives at the Helm. Finally, he's the Excrements of the Creation, the ultimat Butt of God's Wrath, the Subject of Satan's laughter, and Object of Man's Derision; Where we leave him.  
Having put a Period to our Conception of a Deist, we shall in the last place present the Reader with that Unerring Character which the Spirit of God describes them by, in the Oracles of Truth. Which may serve, if not for the Conviction of their seared Consciences, yet both for the establishing of wavering or weak Christians, and for corroborating or encouraging the stronger. And may be unto us as a Mirror, in which we may evidently contemplate the Immensity of God's Love and Providence, in giving us a Watchword against so strong Delusion; which (as our Saviour Himself affirms) would deceive the Elect, if it were possible.  
Of these accursed Apostats who separate themselves from us by the Name of Deists, Saint Paul speaks in 2 Tim. 3. 2. thus, For Men shall be Lovers of their own selves, Covetous, Boasters, Proud, Blasphemers, Disobedient to Parents, Unthankful, Unholy, Vers. 3. Without natural Affection, Truce-breakers, false Accusers, Incontinent, Fierce, Despifers of those that are Good, Vers. 4. Traitors, Heady, highminded, Lovers of Pleasures more than Lovers of God. Vers. 8. Now as Jannes and Jambres withstood Moses, so do these also resist the Truth: Men of corrupt Minds, reprobat concerning the Faith. Vers. 9 But they shall proceed no further: for their Folly shall be manifest to all Men, as theirs also was. And Judas excellently describes them in this manner, Vers. 4. — Who were of old before ordained to this Condemnation, ungodly Men, turning the Grace of God into Lasciviousness, and denying the only Lord God, and our Lord Jesus Christ. Verse 8. Likewise also these filthy Dreamers defile the Flesh, despise Dominion, speak Evil of Dignities. Vers. 10. But these speak Evil of those things which they know not: but what they know naturally as bruit Beasts, in these things they corrup themselves. Vers. 11. Woe be unto them, for they have gone the way of Cain, etc. Vers. 12. Those are spots in your Feasts of Charity, when they feast with you, feeding themselves without fear: Clouds they are without water, carried aboat with winds; Trees whose Fruits withereth, without Fruit twice dead, plucked up by the roots; raging Waves of the Sea foaming out their own shame, wandering Stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever. 16. These are Murmurers, Complainers, walking after their own Lusts, and their Mouths speaking great swelling words, etc. Vers. 19 These be they that separate themselves, sensual, having not the Spirit. To the same purpose speaks Peter in the whole 2 Chapter of his Epistle, with many other places of sacred Write. We shall conclude with that in 2 Pet. 3. 17, 18. Ye therefore, Beloved, seeing ye know these things before, beware lest ye also being led away with the Error of the Wicked, fall from your own steadfastness. But grow in Grace, and in the Knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ; to Him be Glory both now and ever. Amen.  
FINIS.