THE Fanatic in his Colours: Being a Full and Final Character of a WHIG; IN A DIALOGUE BETWEEN TORY and TANTIVY.  Tantivy. 
WEll, Tory; did not I tell thee we should vex these Plotting Countermining Whigs to the heart?  Tory. 
You did so, and your Prophecy is fulfilled. But who would have thought Christian Patience and those Godly Zealots should part Habitations; And that the Whig should become as great a Separatist from that Essential of a Saint, as he is from the True Church?  Tan. 
Nay, rather, who was ever so mad, to take a Fanatic for a passive Creature, who for these 40 years and upwards, has been showing the mastery of his heels, in spurning and kicking at a Rider that has been so merciful to that Beast: Nay, and has been so pampered and high-fed, that tho' he was never so peaceably led, he always slipped the Rein, or violently broke the Bridle?  To. 
'Tis true, they are an awkward sort of unthankful , that were ever murmuring in the midst of their Manna; and instead of keeping the right road to Peace and Tranquillity, burst furiously through the hedges, and beat down its fences; That to be in the Rear of a herd of unruly Swine, or command a drove of yelping Turkeys, seems a far more comfortable Dominion. However, me thinks, there might be a Cure found for this Distemper.  Tan. 
Yes, if they were to be driven as the Butcher drives his Calf, with a Cudgel at one end, and a Halter on tother.  To. 
But did you observe lately, how the Faction fretted itself in the Character of us Tories, (as they call us) as if it had been flayed, and basted with Vinegar?  Tan. 
Yes, and it seemed to be taken with Convulsions, by the drawing up its ugly livid Chaps, and making so many wry-mouths at the Loyal Party.  To. 
No, no; that's only the working of our Physic. They are gripped with Addresses, weekly Heraclitus ' s, and honest Observators, and Tory Thompson's, and cannot digest the present manner of proceed, without a shrug and a sour face.  Tan. 
I marry Sir! now you talk of a Drench indeed: This has strength enough to purge a Trojan-Horse, and force a Traitor out of a wooden Fundament: On my word, Tory, those will try their constitutions for 'em. I perceive, indeed, their flesh is fallen; for yesterday I met with two Arch-Whigs, and to my thinking they looked very maliciously and very thin upon't, just like a couple of grim Satyrs carved upon an old-fashioned Cupboard.  To. 
Say you so; and do you find their Courage so cooled, since those excellent Medicines against Rebellion were published?  Tan. 
Yes, those, together with some Princely Resolutions, have prevailed much; and (saving Mr. Titus' presence) I think have been the Saviour's of this Nation; For now the poor Whig walks sleepishly about the streets, as melancholy as an empty Bagpipe, gogling in your face like a Creature bewitched, or a Fellow half choked, with his lop-ears hanging quite over his eyes, like an Ass under his Load.  To. 
Then you are of opinion that they are supports to our present Constitution; That they ' wake us out of a dead sleep, and are the only things that belong to our Peace.  Tan 
Yes, they are our undoubted security, as they are perpetual scourges for the Fool's back, that would bind his King in Chains, and his Nobles in Links of Iron. They're the unerring Clocks, that go always with the Sun, keep a constant motion, and alarm when the Traitor touches the strings; No Birds of Prey, from the towering Hawk to the mousing Owl, dare quetch while these Eagles are upon the wing; They have a Charm of Truth, that lays the evil Spirits, and tho' they can never hope to be beloved by the Fiends, yet they have thunderstruck them with fear and trembling, and so made their Dominion divine over a Legion of Devils.  To. 
In troth, a miraculous Change! For you may remember when they snapped us up in every Coffeehouse, like a company of peevish ill-natured Stepmother's, that would prog for none but the Babes of their own Bodies. New measures were to be taken both of Church and State, and they themselves were to shape the Cloth, and cut out a Suit for a wooden Layman of their own carving. The old Counsellors were to be turned out to Nurse, and Majesty clapped into Swadling-clouts; and instead of a Princely Inheritance, reduced to a cursed Guardian, and a Sucking-bottle: In fine, every little Insect durst vilify the Royal Prerogative, with a freedom so Malicious, Positive and Tyrannical, as nothing could well justify, but a second Usurpation.  Tan. 
But it seems their Zeal was so hot, that they have rotten-roasted their Cause, and 'tis just now dropping off the Spit.  To. 
I, and I believe that's the reason why the Author of the Character has showed himself so indulgent a Father to his Generation of Vipers, and frets so excessively at the Cooks, for spoiling the Joint that should have feasted his Family. However, I cannot but wonder that a despicable Cur, that has had so many of his Teeth beaten out with good sound Arguments, almost putrified with his own matters of fact, should venture his Brains too, by snarling and barking still at so potent an Adversary.  Tan. 
Alas! the Monster is hunger-starved, and fury is its last shift; so like a parcel of desperate Rats penned up in a Buttery, when they can find no hole to creep out at, they fly in your Face. Besides, the Whig is bewitched with his old foundered Jade, and rides his Cause as the Monkey rides the Mule in the Bear-Garden; and tho' she tumble him, and jumble him never so often out of the Saddle, yet he is sure to get hold of the Main, or cling fast to her Crupper. And to the boot of all this, we have torn his Fig-leaves, and discovered his Nakedness; and nothing is more natural than for a poor Worm to come forth, when the Earth that covers it is trampled on.  To. 
Why then, I perceive they are a sort of incorrigible Slaves, that swear perpetual Revenge against their Master, because he has beaten them for running away, and given 'em Choke cheese in their ' Prenticeship.  Tan. 
You have hit it. But I'll put the Case; Suppose you yourself were in pursuit of a Lady of a known Beauty, and as Eminent a Fortune, and after a multitude of private Intrigues, Subtle Designs, smooth Plots, and plausible Tales, you had flattered her and Fawned her into some favourable opinion of you, and prevailed so far as to find some opportunity to escape with your Prize; would it not vex the Liver and Lights of you, think you, to have a third person step between, and out of a pure honest Principle to his Neighbour, come and knock you off the Horse back with a Cowl-staff, rescue the Girl, and restore her to her distracted Parents?  To. 
I confess this would be on insupportable piece of ill luck; But is this a parallel Case?  Tan. 
O! the very same; For, just as this Phanatical-Renyard had got the Church upon his back, and was running sheer away with her, in comes Loyalty and Resolution, armed Cap-a-pee, and like two English-Champions, redeemed our Daughter of Zion, that had been Condemned at Rome, and was going to be Sacrificed at Geneva.  To. 
What? and are the fanatics our mortal Enemies, as well as the Papists?  Tan. 
Yes, and 'tis as true as Gospel, That our Danger is not less fatal, if the Fanatic swells by the same blast that blows him down; it being so far from securing either the King or the Church, that the Malignity would be only transplanted, and two Pestilential Sores united in one; which, as it could lose nothing of its violence, so its effects would be equally pernicious. They are like two unruly Whelps in a Chain, that pull two several ways with th' same intent of getting lose; a couple of pure sticks, that make the same use of each other to consummate their several ends, as two Knavish Executors, that have both an inclination to defraud the Right Heir. These two Utensils together make for his most Fallible Holiness a most Infallible Tinderbox; and when he would strike sure Fire out of his Jesuitical Steel, he takes the Fanatic for his Flint.  To. 
O! But he seems to be of quite another Kidney; and when he calls us (Tories) Debauchees and Damme-boys, does he not show his zeal for Religion? Can so much filth and nastiness lie behind so fair a Wainscot?  Tan. 
Alas! there is no Pretext more ancient, or more familiar; and the surest place to find a Toad in, is to search under a Bed of Sage. Religion is his Iron-bodies, which this crooked Disciple wears to cheat the world with a show of Uprightness: and whatever the Meat is, this is sure to be the Sauce, and is looked upon as his best Ingredient, to make a savoury Frigacee of a stinking Dish. And now, since my hand's in, I'll give him one turn more; take off the long Robe that hides his Cloven-foot, and show you the Canvas on the backside of his Doublet.  To 
Come on; 'Tis as comfortable a Scene, to have a Knave stripped before one, as to see the casing of a Rabbit after a long Fast.  Tan. 
Well then; upon the true Faith of a Christian, a Phinatick is a Cannibal, a State-man eater, a Land-Cormorant, that by blasting our good Name would swallow us alive; a sly Sheep-biter, that feeds upon nothing but Blood and Vitals, first sucks out our Reputation, and then leaves our Carcase for the Crows. He's the Offil of old Nol, that's wheeled about in a Tub to infect the People, and feed the savage Bears. He's Powder-Monkey to a Regiment of Rebels, and attends the Camp with Lectures against Loyalty, and Aspersions on the Clergy, as the best. Ammunition to blow up the Government, and Cashier Monarchy. He's a Coffe-House-Recorder, that Arraigns' Regal Power, like Felons at the Old-Baily, and is sure to sum up the Evidence like a Knave, and give Sentence against Prerogative; But if you touch upon Property, he grins like a Deaths-head in a Pothecaries' Shop; and like a sullen Baboon, chatters if you do but finger the Chain. This is a sort of Leaf-gold, which he never produces to the standers by, but they must stop their Breath, upon pain and peril of being registered for TORIES. He is an Infallible Almanac, that points out the motions of the Dog Stars, and other Intemperate dissaffected Planets; and shows us how to find out a Rebel for ever. He's a downright Cheat, and should be Cursed by the Congregation for removing his Neighbour's Landmark, and Transplanting the Sacred Right of Kings; for he, to make the Fool's Lamp burn, steals the Oil from the Lord's Anointed, and like an Impudent Prometheus, Snatches his fire from Heaven, to give life to his Image of Rye-dough. He's a State-lowse, with a black list upon his Back of the well-affected, that Crawls to and fro, and would drop in ill Principles; like Nits in the cleanest Linen. He's a sure stick for a new Oliver to build a Scaffold on, and has a Head as round as one of his Shillings; and for love of the Usurper has kissed the Coin, till you may see the Impress of the Breeches upon his Face. He's a fair Copper Plate of the late times, with the Brewer on the one side, and Republica on tother. He's the Lion in the Fable, that invites all the Wild Beasts to a Solemn Feast, that he himself may be sure of a Meals Meat, dissembling his own Hunger, under general bounty, and cloaking private Interest with public good. He's the Son of a Succubus, half Witch half Devil, throwing the State into Convulsions, and envying that Peace in others which he himself cannot accomplish. A Malicious Dog, that Barks at the Moon because it Shines. A buisy Bawd, that Preaches up Innocence, that he himself may have the better opportunity to Debauch it. He's a Puritanical Jacket-Scowrer, that uses railing against the Pope, as his jullers-earth, to fetch the Spots out of his own Cloth; or at least, so far to obscure them, that they may not be seen by the less Curious and Discerning Eye. He's the best Prosecutor of Popery for several Reasons, especially that of set a Thief to Ca●●h a Thief; and like an old Staunched Villain knows, that to Cry Stop the Rogue, is the best way for himself to get off with the Prize. He's B— r's Boar-Catt, that not only mouse's for his Master, but like a Lascivious Representative Puss, goes a rutting to the Housetop, and Cat-calls the whole Faction. He's a travelling Juggler, that would not only make the world believe the Moon's made of Green-Cheese, but that it's cut out into Penn'orths, and sold off as it wastes; Preaching up the Whig for the True Protestant, who is but the stinking fishy part of the Mermaid. He's a turbulent Wasp, and nothing will please him but a change of Government, which would be as sweet to him as a Honeypot. He's a Puritanical shark, and can stare Majesty in the face, while he picks his Pocket; A Phánatick indeed by Profession, but by Principle a Jew; and would pervert his Mosaic Laws to Circumcise the Church, and Cut off all decency like a foreskin: and as, on the one hand, he can think it no offence to ease himself in the Pope's Triple Crown; So, on the other, he would not stick to wipe his B— with the Bishop's Sleeves. In fine He's a Sirreverence in my way, which in my own defence I stop my Nose at, till he's washed away by the next Shower.  To. 
Well, Heaven deliver me, both from the Popish Hawk, and this Fanatic Buzzard; for 'tis as plain as the Nose on ones Face, that there is never a Barrel the better Herring. And now, Honest Tantivy, give me thy hand; and since we must part, I tell thee, thou hast learned me to distinguish the Rebel from the Royalist; The Parasite from the Preacher; The Jew from the Gentile; The Pharasee from the Publican; H Reformed Church of England man from a Crop-eared Presbyterian; A Pulpit from a Tub; A long Coat from a Jump; An Oath of Allegiance from a Scotch- Covenant; The Blessing of a King from the Curse of a Commonwealth; Religion from Roguery; and the Devil from a Saint.   

LONDON: Printed for N. Thompson. 1681.