A NEW DISCOURSE ABOUT THE FIRE of LONDON, AND THE Probability of Self-murder, IN A LETTER to a FRIEND CONCERNING Sir EDMUNDBURY GODFREY's Death.  
SIR,  
SInce it's the Genius of the Age to be Sceptical and Inquisitive, permit me to deal frankly with you, in giving a free Account of my retired and deep thoughts concerning things that have created and been the business of much Discourse. The first is relating to the Firing of London, the latter the Death of Sir Ed. G. Methinks after the Conjectures, Proof, Declaration and Narratives of others, a man may, to bring off all Parties from suspicion, find out an unoffensive way of salving the Inquiries, and to better purpose than it hath been yet.  
For instance: In Septemb. 66. 'tis reported by some, that there was a dreadful Fire in the great City you live in. Now to anger no sort of Men, for if we (as some have done) impute it to the Papists, whose liquorish Palates might be tempted with the Delicacies and Fecundity of that place, and this whet their Appetites with an insatiable Gusto of the Sweetnesses that Heretics had long enjoyed and surfeited on; if these (as it's common in the Country, to obtain Honey and pilfer the winged Inhabitants,) thought it expedient by Smoke and Sulphur to unhive the secure Inmates, than it will reflect on the Civility and obliging humour of the Popish party, as if persons bend on Mischief, and that could by no less light than of a general Conflagration, direct and lead men into the beaten way of the Catholic Church; and how must this suspicion excite a strange Ferment in Citizens against modest and good natured Jesuits, as the reputed Authors of their late Calamities: Whereas we of that Religion would persuade the World, that we only design good, and the Conversion of this Kingdom, to bring our misguided Children into the warm bosom of the Mother Church, and this we can do without throwing Firebrands at them: Tell us nothing of Committees, and Parliaments, and Chair-men, we have a good steady, old Gentleman, that with a Nod and Wink is more infallible and positive than all you can be. Or if the Say-so of his Holiness will not overbalance all the pretended Evidence of the probability that Catholics burned the City, for satisfaction in the matter, take this following Account of that general Flame and dreadful Fire.  
Suppose that once upon a time the Citizens should meet, (and you know many of them are for unlawful Conventicles) and when they foresaw a cold Winter approach, agree and club together in a cursed Association, for the Security of their Estates, and Increase of Trade, and to advance House-rents, and have the Streets made more capacious and commodious, Buildings more uniform and splendid, for the sole benefit and encouragement of decayed Masons and Carpenters, and for their own convenience of going a Birding, and recreating themselves in the Country the ensuing Winter: Why on such weighty and important grounds and deep considerations, from prospect of ensuing profit and pleasure, should not these contrive and conspire each man to put fire to his own House, buy up Gunpowder and combustible matter, to make the work more speedy and general? Though I cannot think they durst ever attempt this design; only they had also agreed to drink lustily the Night before, and so each man being full of Liquor, having his Engine prepared and mounted, promised to piss out the Fire, as far as he was instrumental and concerned in its kindling: And this we have proof sufficient for, and as great as the thing will bear to produce: for who dares contradict so plain a demonstration, That the Citizens falling out with their old, and wooden, and paper Habitations, did not burn them by consent, to erect better and more uniform in their places; but no further to salve this puzzling Enquiry, till we hear a better account from others: For although Fire is a good Servant, yet it proves an imperious and turbulent Master; and can there be Smoke where there is no Fire? You may consider besides, how could it kindle in Pudding-lane, and run with and against wind, and despise the help and obstinate endeavours to quench it; outrun the Guards, nay Constables; had there not been some Conspiracy on work, and the Devil blowing the Coals? But I cannot tell you more of this at present, till I find how it will obtain belief; and why should it not, as well as other Elaborate Squibbs and Crackers, composed and stuffed with as great Impertinency, and not backed with so high and presumptive Probability, which to unthinking men looks as like Demonstration as an Apple is to a Nutt? Should I have troubled you with any thing more stayed and serious, I had not past the Censure of some critical and pert, conceited and censorious Reader. Farewell.  
BUT did Sir E. G. Kill himself? Yes, no question on't: But when, how, and with what Numerical Weapon, this Time must discover: For we Catholics, and men that have for some years used the Plea, will by hook or crook make out any thing, and can give Demonstration for what we please. They are your dull, unthinking and tame Animals, that are fed by Propositions, Syllogisms, and hard Terms, that design to Impose upon Mankind with that weatherbeaten and unlucky word called Truth: If we Squires of the Quill can cabal, and get an humble Petition from our dear Friends, Knights of the Post, by a trick called Legierdemain, two or three Cramp words, and Hocus Pocus, (a Game almost now forgotten in this lazy and dull Age) which our Forefathers called Blind-mans-buffe, we can make a Statue move, and the Horse winch and caper in the Stock-market, and the Dragon on Bow Steeple fly as swift as Mahomet's Dove, and prove us Prophets of the rarest invention and Edition since your Grandam cried Nutcrackers and Gingerbread. But I had almost amongst my Pedigree and Intimates, as men that speak much, outrun my Subject, and forgot the Novel way of Probation.  
Who dares say, or without my Licence think that the Knight was Murdered, or indeed that he is dead? 'Tis true, there was a man about the 17th of Octob. 78. within a mile of an Oak, that was for some days missing; and 'twas then said, he was gone a Wooing; and men on that Errand may be out of the way, and forget themselves: for Love is blind, and like a Wild-goose Chase, or a Fairy Dance; and if the wanton Boy Cupid, or the Grand Matron of Fairy-Land should seduce an Amorous Justice, and puff him on to Green-Bury-Hill, must three of that Name be supposed mad, to do this ill Office, and take the Odium, and Swing for the enchanting trick of that (O Injurious) busy Gad and whimsical Nothing? I have heard these Nightwalkers do pinch People in their Slumbers; and to the Neat and spruce Housewives, drop Money in their Shoes, and keep clean the place they delight in: And I doubt not to prove when occasion is, that these waggish Twit-twats finding the Worshipful so industrious and cleanly, might in Civility, when he run his Gloves and Stick through his Hands and Armpits, and his Sword into his Body, to prevent being suspected, so clean his Shoes; and having no Money about them, (for they spent all their means on Charon Godfrey's Ferryman) drop a little Hay-seeds or Bends into his Shoes, and wove them into his Stockings; and so the Murder is out. For whoever proves the contrary, must take heed what he says, for we Writers stand upon our Prerogative, which is to call any man that stands in our way, or is not an Inhabitant of our Enchanted Island, by one ugly Name or other, and then make as much sport with him as the Noble Divertion the Morocco Ambassador was lately entertained with in Southwark. If any man dares tell me, there was such a thing as old Tongue and Oats privy to a Plot the Westminster-men called Hellish and Damnable; we have a way to make the penitent Son call his Father Knave, and though a man of no Great Invention, we'll call that terrible project the Creature of his doting Fancy, and give no credit to either Timothy or Titus: For who knows what kind of men may usurp those Names, and obtrude thin and finespun Stories upon the Mobile? For shall two or three little and vicious Creatures, compel my belief of what I have the Authority and Interest of my Mother Church to persuade me could never be? When did you find any but peevish and restless fanatics, credulous and thin-pated whigs, guilty of Plotting? These, that we swear have no Religion but Rebellion, no Faith but Faction, may Depose and Murder Kings; but did ever a Loyal Roman Catholic, or your Ruffling Banditti, or men of Parts and Ingenuity, of Gallantry and Temper, that are Cap-a-pe for the Church and Government? We that have spent our Fortunes in his Majesty's Service, and by our Pens support Church and State? When did we Royalists Conspire or Associate to do mischief? No, if Godfrey is dead, he may thank himself. If a Gun let's fly at a man in a Coach, dares any say he's murdered? A man may kill or be killed, but why should we pry into the mysterious and meritorious Contrivers? When men stand in the way, may they not be removed without such a Din and Clamour, and calling the instruments Murderers? Who can prove that the Sword did not owe the person wearing it a Grudge; and taking him alone and at advantage, steal unawares into his Body? There is a man that lives somewhere may witness this: I have forgot whether it's the Vertuoso at Salisbury, or the Anatomist in Cambridge, for they are both cunning and shrewd Artists: And a man of ordinary ingenuity and slender experience, may in three years' time offer great Problems and Phoenomena's, past either Bedlow's or Prance's Solution. Or why might not the Knight have drunk College or Dr. Butler's Ale the Saturday Morning, and being walking find it grumble, (as if he had a Pope in his Belly) and for Privacy retire to Primrose-hill, and laying by his Gloves and Stick, and turning the Hilt of his unlucky Sword to the Ground, being in haste, forget himself, and sit down on his Sword's point, and do himself a mischief? and when eased, he might unbutton his Doublet; (for his Choler you must remember was made high, and galled his Neck, and made it doddle this and t'other way:) Why may he not in a Bravado try whether his Sword would enter, and how far a man might without danger, and unprovok't, Kill himself? Is not this probable? let me dare any man to Swear the contrary.  
I remember (and it's as much as I can) that in Harry the Eighths' time, there were a sort of Blades truly Loyal, and serviceable to the Government, that were Whiggishly inclined, and would persuade (had not he understood Trap, and could not be imposed upon with Baubles and Political Rattles) that the Old Gentleman at Rome (God bless his Holiness) was an Enemy to his Grandeur and Supreme Power: But though none of the most dutiful Sons, yet he found it his Interest to adhere to the Papal See; and though for a time seduced by Cromwell and Father Cranmer, yet (good man) he died in the Bosom of the Mother Church. Why then should any politic Sir dissuade Princes from their Duty and Submission, when great Harry, who Justled with his Infallibility, died at his feet? What reason have Church men and zealous fanatics to clamour and rail so hotly against an old Man that designs their good, and reducing them by gentle Methods of Collusion, and good words of Fire and Faggot, into either Obedience or Purgatory, or Heaven, all which are but several steps to promotion? But, Sir, being not much concerned about the Arts and Methods of Policy, I shall give you no further Trouble, only beg the favour of being still esteemed  
Your Faithful Friend, Philopolis.   

London, Printed for R. Janeway in Queens-head-alley in Pater-noster-row, 1682.