A LETTER FROM AN Anti-Phanatique, TO The most Illustrious and truly Virtuous LADY, the LADY MONK.  
By a true lover of his Country.  
London, Printed in the year, 1660.   

TO The most Virtuous LADY, THE LADY MONK.  
MADAM,  
IT is commonly seen that Honour's change Manners, no sooner are we circumferenced with the bright Clouds of Magnitude, but presently forgetting what Nothings we were and are, we swell ourselves into imaginary Somethings: But your Ladyship's Virtues are a sufficient charm against this kind of folly, or rather great madness; and your acquaintance (which now compared to your Ladyship, are but as shrubs in comparison of the tallest Cedars) will make this good; who speak your deportment, Madam, to be as sweet and friendly, as affable and courteous, as humble and free from all Pride and Vanity, as before your Ladyship ascended the glistering Mount of Honour: whilst others pride it with noble descent, and deck themselves with borrowed rays from honourable Ancestors, your Ladyship being eminently Virtuous, is a most clear Fountain of Honour yourself; such as these, the sails of whose Greatness swell with Pride and Vanity, have but the shadow of true Nobility, the substance dwells with your Ladyship: you are a burning Lamp, and shining light to all your Sex, and the noblest Madams cannot have a fairer Copy to write by than is your Ladyship.  
Truly, Madam, I am glad you are great, only because you are good, and am glad to see the lustre of your goodness outshine the lustre of your greatness. This may dazzle and attract vulgar eyes, but the most sweet contemplation of your incomparably good and virtuous Soul captivates, and draws all hearts after your Ladyship. Greatness is vanishing and mortal, to day a Prince, to morrow a Beggar; to day a Conqueror, to morrow a Captive; to day a Madam, to morrow none, and sadly weeping that ever she was one. But Goodness which is your Ladyship's chief aim and study, is immortal; and will not only dignify you here, but will eternize you hereafter. Not to flatter, but inform, you are looked upon, Madam, by all, with singular delight, as one raised up by God like Queen Hester, for the good of your languishing Country: and his Excellency is reputed the miracle of men, and England's blessed Peacemaker. How many years hath this Land been rend and torn in pieces by self-interest interest Persons and Parsons? How many changes have we had, and still from bad to worse? and had not our Joshua the Lord General stood up for us against our Rampant Enemy, it is to be feared before this time City and Country had been ruined, and England made a Monument of Blood and Ashes: Such a blessing never came out of Scotland before, such an opportune deliverance, even when bloody Sectaries had armed themselves with weapons and resolution to destroy the Protestant party, and make Merchandise of Churches and Universities was never heard of, never read of. And had the Lycaonians been present at your Ladyships and the Generals coming amongst us, and seen the many Miracles then done, the almost incurable diseases and sad distempers which we lay groaning under a long time, presently cured, and our creepled Commonwealth set upon its legs again, and leaping for joy; his Sword not wounding, but healing our wounds; his Victory not died in blood; and our Peace procured, not by war, according to that cursed Motto [PAX QUAERITUR BELLO] but by his most excellent Wisdom, and incomparable Prudence. Had the Lycaonians seen all this, they would have cried out in admiration of your Honours, as once they did concerning Paul and Barnabas, The Gods are come down amongst us in the likeness of men. We now see what the Saints are which have Lorded it over us all this while, not Saints but Devils; mere cheats, pretenders only to Religion and Honesty, having not the least dram of either; not Physicians, but Butchers, mangling and murdering their King and Country; but your Honours like the good Samaritan, have poured oil abundantly into the wounds which those Thiefs & Robbers made: you are true Israelites in whom we all hope there is no guile: you are a most blessed couple may England say, & the shrill sound of your fame for what you have already done, is heard afar off; and if you make the Epilogue like the Prologue, and Crown the great good work you have begun, every where, and in all places we will hang up Trophies, and erect Monuments to your Honours, which shall make your Memories bloom and blossom to all Posterity; future Chronicles shall blazon your Ladyship the best of Women, and his Excellency the best of Men; all Ages shall bless you, and dwell upon your praises till they swell in Volumes bigger than Fox's Martyrology: nay we will all write your Histories, and fill whole Libraries with Folioes only of your Commendations, and there shall be no end of your Eulogiums: Never were any received by our Metropolis with such acclamations of Joy, and such high expressions of Love as your Honours; and may you both still continue and grow very aged in all estimation and honour amongst us, that when your most precious lives shall periodize, our dropping eyes may witness our loss, and your pious Souls wrapped in a sable Mantle of our sighs and groans mount the Battlements of the highest Heavens, is the hearty prayer of,  
MADAM, Your most Humble and Faithful Servant, HEN. MORLEY.  
FINIS.