A New Apparition OF S. Edmund-bery Godfrey's GHOST TO The E. of D— in the TOWER.  
DID not the Air of this place then agree with your weak, tender Constitution? ha! did you want airing, bloody Politician? and Liberty to range the World about, to do more mischief to this groaning Nation? 'Twas time for Providence, who all things sees, to bring an Habeas Corpus, and to call the Bloody Da— to his juster Bar: Look on me cruel Wretch, see the Effects of thy most horrid, and most bloody Plot. See me the human Sacrifice, which thou inhuman offer'dst up to thy God Moloch, thy God of human Policy, the Devil. Didst thou never dream of Providence above? Didst think the shades of Hell could hid thy Act, thy Impious Act, from the all-seeing Eye, which penetrates into thy very Heart, And sees the very cankered poison there? Vain idle Wretch, that thought thus to delude the Almighty Mind, who all thy actions knows: and durst contend with thy infernal Arts of Hel-bred Policy, with God himself: For didst thou think that he would e'er approve the murder of a Man, an Innocent, by the Contrivance wrought, and not detect at last the bloody Authors, and Contrivers, as well as those poor hireling Instruments, that did the bloody dead? Blood still cries loud ith' Ears of Justice, none did e'er escape the hand of Vengeance: And the wrath of Heaven reaches them in this World, or in the next. I laugh to see thee tremble, to behold thy Conscience thy Accuser, and to fly in thy own Face; as once thou laugh'dst at me, before thou sent'st me to be sacrificed. You now remember well your close Consult, What Persons then were laying Heads together, the bloody Scene was laid with hellish Art, and the Contrivers smiled to hear it done: O pious Act, to hid an impious Plot, in which your hands were deep: but all in vain, For though I thus to Heaven was packed away, by thy Contrivance, yet God took the Cause of this distressed Nation into his own hand, and strangely raised up new Witnesses, that could through various Tides of Opposition, make true Discoveries of poor Englands Troubles, Such as have hitherto kept off the Blow of utter ruin, though they never were suffered to reach the Root. Hope like delusive Lights, that led poor Travellers out of the way, till they are brought into some Pit or Ditch, where they perhaps at last may loose their Lives, has lead you and your dear Confederates, till now you fall into the Pit of Justice. Down, down poor grovelling Dust, and see your folly, Contend no longer with the power of Heaven, think Politician, that thou hast a Soul more precious yet, than a poor blast of famed, save that, save that, perhaps thy Body too Let God be glorified by thee at last, Fear not a Mortal Man, own Truth, I say, confess and satisfy the wondering World, For if thou dost not, know that God at last will bring forth Truth, the glorious Child of Heaven, and spite of Hell, and all its Policies, The very bottom of the Plot shall be turned up to open view. The World shall judge the depth of Wickedness, that covered now lies in the Hearts of Men. Nor He, nor She, nor any, who such horrid things design shall scape. murder, O bloody murder still will be found out, for God is ever Just. Lay on thy guilty Heart thy Hand, and say, I see that God us wiser far than I: For when I thought the bitterness of Death was past, and flattering Hope appeared, A Clew to led me from my imprisoned Labrynth, when I with working Brain had undermined those who with eager cry pursued me still, and working like a Mole, still under ground raised up those little rugged Hills that spoiled Englands fair Garden: When I had thought by cunning Pleas to get a little Liberty, that I might laugh at the deluded World, and steer unseen the faltering bark to ruin, exposing others Lives, whilst I sculkt close, as if I'ad left the World: when thus I say, I'ad built a ●abel almost up to Heaven, that then when I never dreamed of such a thing, a Bill of murder should be found against me, that by a strange and unusual way, in open Court, and before all the World, it should be sworn with all its Circumstance; that this the unseen hand of Heaven should cut my Clew of Hope, and fling my Babel down, and pull me from my Mine into the Light, argues that I, with all my Policy, am but a Worm, and that in vain I struggle against Omnipotence: Consider this, lay it to heat, let Hell delude no more, strive not against the Stream of Providence, nor kick against the Pricks of Divine Power; in thinking thou by tricks, of cunning shifts, shalt clear thyself of my most horrid murder. A door of Hope, of better Hope than thine, stands open to thee: Turn on thy Right Hand, and let Truth be thy Guide; at last confess, and Glory give to God. Trust not to Man, he shall deceive thee. harken to the Call of thy own Conscience; harken now to me, heaven's Messenger: Go satisfy the King, and the whole English Nation, then shalt thou be called a Saviour of the Nation too.   

London, Printed for T. Benskins in St. Brides Church-yard. 1681.