A Further CONTINUATION AND DEFENCE, OR, A Third Part OF THE Friendly Debate.  
By the same Author.  
Nemo Sibi tantùm errat.  
Excusare malunt vitia quàm Effugere.  JOB xi. 2, 3. 
Should not the Multitude of Words be answered? and should a man full of Talk be justified?  
Should thy Lies make men hold their peace? and when thou mockest, shall no man m●ke thee ashamed?  
LONDON: Printed by E.G. and A.C. for H. Eversden, at his Shop under the Crown in West Smithfield. 1670.   

THE PREFACE To the Well-disposed READERS.  
IF we consider how necessary true Religion is to the settlement and comfort not only of every particular Soul, but of every Family, City, or Kingdom; we cannot but think it as necessary, that it should be plainly taught and known; and judge their pains commendable who labour to make men understand wherein it consists. The Controversies and vain Janglings about it have been so many, the Sects of Religious People so numerous, their Hatred against each other so great, and the World hath been so much troubled with them; that they have made some ready to conclude it is a thing above our reach and capacity either to understand or practise. But if we advise with the ancient more than the modern Opinions, we shall soon find it is a plain and simple thing, that hath only this difficulty attending on it, to do according to the rules and precepts belonging to it; which is not so difficult neither in itself, as men are wont to make it by their Crossness, Hypocrisy, and Unbelief. It is nothing else, saith one, 
a Enseb p●aep Eu. L. 1. c. 1. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. etc.  but the turning up of our Souls (from this Earth) to the only true God, and a life according to him; which breeds a most happy Friendship with him. As much as to say, an Imitation of him whom we worship. The whole Evangelical conversation is propounded as a preparation for the life after the Resurrection; Our Lord ordaining, saith St. Basil 
b I. de Spiritu S. Cap. 15. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. etc. ; that we should not be angry, that we should bear with evils patiently, that we should not be spotted with the love of pleasures, and that we should keep ourselves free from covetousness and the love of riches: So that what the other world possesses naturally, we may prevent by our free choice. And if any body will define the Gospel to be but a pattern or form of the life after the Resurrection, he shall not in my judgement miss the Mark. This, all sober men cannot but confess, is that which, for distinction's sake, we may call Religion the End. This aught to be the Scope of all our Endeavours to be pu●e, humble, meek, patiented, and full of Charity: Nor do I see what dispute can be raised about it, though some ignorant men love to disgrace this beginning of the celestial life, under the name of mere Morality. The greatest bustle and stir is about, Religion the Means; viz. Faith in Jesus Christ, Prayer, Hearing of Sermons, good Discourse, and such like things. About which men have wrangled so long, and have been so much concerned to beat down the Opinion opposite to their own, that at last they have, in a manner, forgot that there is any thing else to be regarded, and have made these the Sum of their Religion; at least, the greatest part of it. Insomuch, that to tell them this plain Truth, That Faith in Christ is itself but a means to some thing higher, and not to be rested in, is to raise a Controversy; and make a new Stir among those who are as ignorant as they are zealous. But the greatest Dispute is, what that Faith is, which is but a means whereby we overcome the World? And though St. John tell us, 
1 Joh. 5.5.  it is to believe that Jesus is the Son of God; Yet if any body else say so, it is not thought to be good Divinity. Tell them that Piety consists not in Talking often of God, but rather in being Silent (the Tongue being a very dangerous Member if not governed by good Reason) and they will quarrel with you for it, and perhaps say you are Profane; though they be the very words of a very great and holy man 
c G●eg. Naz orat. 1. pag. 48.  among the old Christians, who gravely adds, that we should think it less perilous to hear than to speak, and therefore be more ready to learn than teach any thing about God, studying to be less godly in Words and more in Deeds 
d 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. etc. , and showing our love and affection rather by keeping of the Laws, than by the admiring and commending of the Lawgiver. About Prayer also, which is but a quiet and humble Dependence of the Soul upon God for what he sees good for us, expressed in fitting words, abundance of Troubles are raised. No Prayers, some think, will obtain the blessings they need, or dispose the Soul for the Divine Grace, and promote the love of God and man in their hearts, unless they be every time in new Words, and in a new Order and Method: which in truth serves more to gratify the Fancy than to alter the Will and Affections; and pleases ourselves rather than God. Sermons also about that which I called Religion the End are not so well liked; they would have them rather about the Means. Nor is it sufficient to hear an holy Instruction or Exhortation on the Lord's Day, and the Scriptures read at other solemn times; or to acknowledge God, and express our Faith and Hope in him, our Love to him and Desire to be like him, in his Public Worship, in our own Families and Closets; but there must be other Meetings and Days observed of men's own private Invention and Appointment: or else all Religion they think is in danger to be lost, and they must question, whether those have the Power of Godliness that do not frequent them? By this means, the Simplicity of Religion, and the true Power of Godliness, it must be acknowledged, is very much decayed. Many spend that time about the Means, which they ought to spend in that Godlike Life to which they are designed; nay, they use those Means in such a manner, that they hinder rather than promote true Godliness. But there is a worse thing still behind.  
Let any man attempt to apply a Remedy to these Mischiefs, by making a plain Discovery of such Mistakes; presently a terrible Persecution is raised against him, and a Troop, or Army rather, of enraged Zealots not only assault and wound, but endeavour to destroy his Reputation. Though his Words be never so plain and easy to be understood, though the Composition of his Discourse be perspicuous, and though he express, in so many words, out of the Holy Scriptures, what solid and true Religion is; yet he shall be voted an Enemy to it, an Instrument of Satan, an Underminer of all Practical Godliness, (so they have learned to call Praying and Discoursing about good things, and such like matters) He whose Religion only altars the Countenance, and busies himself in composing the Face, and ordering the Postures of the Head, shall sooner be believed, though he pour out an hundred Lies; than that well-designing Person, who studies to bridle his tongue, to speak nothing but the Truth, and to order his Life according to the Will of God. These shall all be disparaged and vilified by an empty and talkative Devotion, which shall be preferred much before them.  
You may think this to be scarce credible: but when you consider the Ignorance of some, the Weakness of other men's Natural Parts, the naughty Affections that most are possessed withal, and bring along with them to the reading of Books, even of the Holy Scriptures; and how Truth itself was rejected when it came in Person into the World, and the sacred Volumes have been so wrested that the absurdest Fictions have been made out of them; you will not wonder that a Pious Discourse meets with this Bad Entertainment. Either men consider not that some Truths lie deep, and must be drawn up with a great deal of labour; or they have not indifferent Minds, but suffer their Desires and Wishes to form their Opinions for them. They run over a Book in posthaste, and only spend a few slight thoughts upon it; or they want that Honesty and Integrity of heart, which is necessary to a right Understanding. They are fiercely bend to maintain their own conceits, they are blinded by the Love of this World, or by Anger and Hatred of others, or by a proud and vain Opinion of themselves, which rise up to contradict the plainest Truth that strikes at them. And of all the rest nothing more indisposes the Soul, and prejudices it against the Truth, than that laest thing now named, a vain Conceit of themselves; which makes men bold and confident, apt to censure rather than to learn, to be angry at all Reproofs, and to conclude that is false which they do not instantly understand. St. Austin 
e L. 3. Conf. chap. 5. Turgidus f●stu mihi g●randis videbar.  confesses that this would not let him understand the Holy Scriptures, which contain things that are of this Property, to grow up with a little one: but I disdained, saith he, to be a little one, and being swollen with Pride and conceit seemed some great Person in my own eyes. To this there often joins itself, an Envious Humour, which loves to detract from others, that men may seem better themselves than indeed they are: Or rather, as Dr. Sibs hath observed 
f Sermons upon 4. 5. and 6. of ● Canticles. p. 285. , This is a thing which springs from the poisonous Pride of men's Hearts, that, when they cannot raise themselves by their own worth, they will endeavour to do it by the ruin of another's Credit, through Lying and Slanders. The Devil was such a Liar and Slanderer, than a Murderer. He cannot Murder, without he Slander first. This disposes them to believe any thing of others, though never so false, and then moves them to fling it abroad by Word and Writing: thinking it enough to salve their own Credit, should they be caught in a Falsehood, and convicted of notorious Lies, to thrust in these old Words, they say, it is reported 
g Aiunt, fe●tur.  and such like; wherewith all the Tales and Legends that are, have been ushered into the World. In this manner Apion calumniated the Jews: and thus the Primitive Christians were abominably abused. And all this with Security enough; the Folly and Ill Nature of the Multitude being so great, that they dote upon these Forgeries and Detractions, and suffer themselves (as Josephus hath observed 
h 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. l. 2 contra Apion.  sooner to be won by them, than by that which is writ with more care and consideration: they rejoice in Reproaches, and are ill at ease and vexed when they hear men's just Commendations. Some are credulous, and others are negligent: a Lie steals upon some, and it pleases others: Those do not avoid it, and these have an appetite to it 
i Sen. l. ult. nat. Qu. c. 16. .  
But I need not go to those ancient times to seek instances of this hard Usage; there being one so fresh and pregnant nearer at hand, of all that hath been said. There came forth a little Book not long ago, whose Design, as God knows, and all Sober men might easily discern, was not to make men less but more Religious; not to abate the Force and Power of true Godliness, but to direct unto it, encourage and advance it, that its Name might be venerable among men. For which end, the Author earnestly desired, that men would not deceive themselves and others with mere Words and Phrases; that the Scriptures of God might be carefully studied, rightly explained, and wisely applied; that the People might be taught the wholesome Words of the Lord Jesus and not fed with vain and empty Fancies; that the Holy Faith of Christ might be made more effectual for its end; Go● might be worshipped with greater Reverence; Charity, and Unity among Brethren preserved and restored; all those notorious Sins, which stare me● in the Face, though they wear the Mask of Religion, might be repent of; and that they might not make those things the mark of Religion, which do not distinguish Bad men from Good: in short, that they might talk less and do more; not rest themselves in the Means nor quarrel about them; but seriously mind that Religion, which is the End of all Sermons, Prayers, Holy Conference, and of Faith itself; and may certainly be promoted and attained by such means as the Laws of this Christian Kingdom allows.  
Against this innocent and harmless Book a malcontented Person hath opposed himself with that unbridled and unruly Heat which without Reason and Knowledge was noted of old 
k Greg. Naz. orat. 26. p. 446. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  to be one great cause of all the Disturbances and Divisions that have been in the Church of Christ. Religion he would have you think is not only assaulted in its Outworks, but the whole Fabric of it undermined. For which purpose, he hath contrived a great many Stratagems and Maxims out of his own Imagination (but as he would have it believed out of that Debate) wherewith he tells the World, he sees me going on destroying and to destroy Piety, and introduce Ungodliness; and laying an exact Method and Platform to compass and effect the Extirpation of all practical Holiness even from Dan to Beersheba. 
l Pres. to the Sober Answer, p. 12.15.  This is the Sum of his Charge against me, and in his own words: For which there is no Cause at all, but that I set not the same Esteem that he doth, upon their keeping of Days, talking about Religion, and such like things; which are at most but Means of Piety, when lawfully used; but in which he places, it should seem, the very Life and Spirit of it, and thinks they are very Religious, when they handle the matter so, as to neglect greater Duties to perform these.  
This is to be imputed I verily believe, partly to his fiery Nature, partly to his Ignorance and want of Judgement, partly to a rash and precipitate Forwardness, and very much to his Self-Admiration, 
m 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Greg. Nazian. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 1●. p. 444.  a vain Conceit of his own Abilities, and a Desire to be the Author of some great Discovery, that should make him considerable among his Party. Hot and fiery Dispositions were anciently noted to be the Movers of Troubles; though not simply such as had a great Fervour in them, but when it was without Reason and Learning, which begets an audacious Rashness in their Spirits. Ignorance, you know, can never be just in its Judgement; no more than a man can go right in the dark. False Alarms are wont to be given in the Night; which is the time of Robberies and Murders, as well as of Dreams and Phantasms. Rashness and Inconsiderateness is little better: it being much what the same to have no eyes, and not to use them. Where this Answerers eyes were when he read my Book, its hard to say: not in his Head sure (in Solomon's sense) for he never hits the Meaning when he opposes; and still misses his way in that which he confidently affirms. His whole Discourse (if it may be called by that name) is beside the Book; and managed in such a manner, as if his Reason served him but like an half Moon in a Coat of Arms 
n As Sir Hen. Wotton somewhere speaks. , to make only a notional Difference between him and other Creatures; not for any Use or Active Power in itself. This, together with his Prejudice and Passion, his vain Confidence and Presumption of his Skill, made him so regardless of what he said, that as sometimes he citys such Words out of my Books as are to be found in neither of them 
o P. 44. This should cause you to reflect on yourself, as somewhere you have d●●● upon De●l●rm. This it is to be a great Divine, and un●equ in●●d with the Scriptures. ; so he hath stuffed his own with Slanders and Lies, Detractions and Calumnies; and notoriously defamed not only my Design, but also myself, and every where perverted the Sense of such Plain Words, as an innocent Child may easily understand. These things he would have had a greater Care to avoid, did he either know wherein the Life and Power of Religion consists, or used the Means he contends about as much for the purposes of Holiness, as for the Marks and Characters of a Party.  
You must not expect that I should enumerate them here: You will find as many of them as the brevity I designed would permit, in the Body of the following Book, which I have writ partly to vindicate myself, but most of all to vindicate and further declare the Truth. The Power and Authority of which is such (as Polybius, an excellent Historian and of great Fidelity 
p L. 13. excerpt. Who yet could not escape Calumnies, for one Scylax wrote 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 an History opposite to his as Suidas tells us.  speaks) that it hath a kind of Divinity in it. So that when all contend against it, and there are great numbers of fair and probable Tales ranged with great care on the side of Lies and Falshood, she insinuates herself, I know not how, by her own force into the Souls of men. And sometimes she shows her power on a sudden, sometimes being darkened and obscured a long time, in the end so baffles those Lies by the Strength which resides in herself, that she triumphs over them all 
q 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.   
I have not so little knowledge of Humane Nature, nor so little Experience in what is past, as to think that Truth will conquer all; no not though we take her part, and lend her our Assistance in the best manner we are able. Prophets I know have been slighted, when Jugglers and Enchanters have been admired; sober Reason rejected, when idle Fancies have been greedily swallowed. But yet we must not despair of all, because of the perverse Obstinacy and heady Opposition of some. Nay, the most fierce and violent Enemies of Truth, if we chance to meet with them in a calm Season, and when they are disposed by the Grace or Providence of God to be humble and meek, w● may have some hopes to prevail withal The Confidence of this very man is no● so high, but it may be taken down; 〈◊〉 he will read with the same mind, tha● I wrote; vo●d, I protest, of all angen● and resolved to ●●●mit to the Evident of Truth, whensoever it should present itself.  
He will complain perhaps of the Sharpness of my Style in some places: but he may believe me, it was not my Passion, but my Judgement which dictated those Words to me. It was necessary I thought to disabuse Him, and his Followers too, who otherwise would not have been awakened to see his Folly. If I am mistaken in the Fitness of this Proceeding, it is but a pure Error of my Mind, not any Vice in my Will, as far as I can find. I was not hurried, but went deliberately into it by the Guidance of the best Reason I had. This tells me also that I have not done ill, in undervaluing his Answer (and consequently himself) as not worthy the name of a Book, but rather of so much blotted Paper. It is not the Work of one whose Heart studies to answer (as Solomon's words are) or that uses Knowledge aright; but whose Mouth poureth, or belcheth 
r So it is in the Margin, P●o 15 4. and v. 28.  out Foolishness. And St. John himself (as Mr. Burroughs observes 
s Vindi●. against Mr. E●w. p. 2. ) that Disciple so full of Charity, speaks contemptuously of such, and tells the Church he would reckon with Diotrephes, for his Malicious-Prating. They do not err alone, but draw Company into their Follies. The Violent or Injurious Man entices his Neighbour, and leads him into a way that is not good. He shutteth his Eyes to devise froward things: moving his Lips he brings evil to pass. Prov. 16.29, 30. And therefore such Persons must be rebuked with some Sharpness, because as they are not insolent merely for themselves, so when one of them is lashed, many more may learn their Duty at his Cost.  
There are some, I know, who think he needed not have been replied unto at all: and I myself, for a good while, was one of those. For either the People will read my Book, or they will not. If they will not, to what purpose should I write? If they will, they need but read what is writ already, and there they will find an Answer themselves, without any more ado. But further Thoughts persuaded me to resolve otherwise: because there are many men who know well enough he hath miss the Mark, that are contented notwithstanding his Book should pass for an Answer; and will commend it, till the Nakedness of it be discovered. Others also are easily cheated with a Multitude of Words; and will rather distrust themselves than a godly Minister, as they esteem him, who is so confident, and hath the Scripture continually at his Tongue's end. This makes a Show of Religion and of Wisdom too; and though it be nothing to the purpose, there seems to be much of God in it. As there are confident Ninnies sometimes in the Garb of Wise men, and Sententious Absurdities that carry the appearance of Aphorisms; So there is a blustering Language which looks like Rhetoric, ridiculous Conceits which make a show of Wit, and ignorant Babblers in Holy Phrase, who seem like great Divines. It was a Trick of the Separatists from the beginning, to paint the Margin of their Books with the Chapter and Verse of many Scriptures; which were the Ornaments also of their Preaching and familiar Discourse. This very much astonished the simple and credulous, who persuaded themselves that the Cause of those men stood upon the ground of God's Word, which they had so ready at their finger's end. But if a serious man come to examine them, he shall find they allege Scriptures against us to prove that which we do not deny: or if they be brought to confirm the matter in Controversy, they are unconscionably or ignorantly wrested against or beside the meaning of the Holy Ghost 
t They are the words of the grave and modest Consutation of the Separatists etc. pa●l. 1644. in the Pref.  This I thought good, among many other things, to reprove in this ignorant Boaster; though the instances of it are so many, that I could not without tiring the Readers note them all. Many other things I have also passed by untouched, for this only Reason, that there are such heaps of Absurdities, as it would make a Volumn of too great a Bulk to gather them all together. There is nothing I protest which I could not as easily have confuted as those Follies which I have mentioned, nor did I wave any thing because of its Difficulty: but since some things must be let alone (for fear of being tedious) I took those into consideration which came readiest to my mind and which I thought the most material; leaving the Reader to conceive, by the handling of them, what I could have said of the rest, if I had thought it worth my pains.  
I speak in the singular number, because my name is not Triumvirate, much less Legion as some vainly surmise 
v See his Pref. p. 1. and 17.  There is nothing in the two former Books or in this either, but what is the fruit of my own Diligence, without the least help from any body else. No Collections were made to set me up, nor have I received so much as one Observation from any person since I began. I had no Adviser neither; no man to instigate me to the Undertaking, or, to speak in his Dialect, to be my Intelligence or Assistant Form to move me and carry me about 
x Ib. p. 39  All these Suggestions are out of some of their own idle and empty Brains; for the whole was purely from and by myself alone. And it is no such wonderful Work neither, in my Judgement, now that it is performed. If it be, it is more than I know; and I have the very same Opinion of myself that I had before it was conceived. What that is, you will find in this Book, and therefore I shall not here repeat it. Though I must tell you, were I blown up, as he suspects, by the Breath of other men's Praises, it would be more pardonable, than to swell with my own, and vaunt at such a rate, as he doth. Who, as he absurdly fancies me dealing with Religion, as Abraham was about to do with Isaac, so he conceives himself like the Angel which hindered the Execution; and cries out, Pardon me if I rise up to staythy Hand, wonder not if I adventure all to keep Religion from being made one whole Burnt-Offering by you 
y Preface, p. 25. . The Earnestness of which Request he might well have spared, for it would have been granted without so much as ask. It is no wonder at all to see Ignorance daring and adventurous. It is the Mother 
z 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Naz. ib. , we have learned, of insolent Brags, and bold Rashness. Which brood, as one hath well ezpressed it many years ago, breaking the Shell with too much Hast, cackles afore it be full hatched 
a Bishop of Rochester's Epistle of the Ministers of Scotland. before his Sermon. Sept. 21, 1606.  of this you have a Proof in this great Undertaker, whose raw and indigested Thoughts made him resemble the Destruction of Religion (which he was speaking of) to a whole Burnt-Offering to God, and talk of staying my Hand after it had given the Stroke. Many such incongruous Conceptions you will meet with in the following Book, which, if it do not bring him down from his lofty Perch, and humble him in his own Thoughts, will lay him low I believe in the esteem of equal Readers; who will see he is so far from being like an Angel, that he hath done nothing like an ordinary man.  
As for the time which was spent in composing this or the former Pieces, I am not yet so vain as to tell the World how little it was. He shall only know thus much for his satisfaction, that there is no Truth in what he hath been told of Collections made for them several years: The second Part (wherein he saith there is much Reading) being not so much as thought of, till I heard what a stir they kept about the First, and had notice of so many unjust Exceptions against it. And now I see, this man was one of those that defamed it; though with no more Conscience and Truth, than he uses, when he tells the World, that it was the earnest Wish and Longing of the Debater (as well as of his Friends) that his Book might see the Light 
b Pref. p. 37.  This is a Fiction of his own, or he had no more Cause to say so, than he had to pronounce who was the Author of these Books, that is, none at all but a Rumour of that public Liar, which hath brought so many other Tales to his Ears. For he had not the same Argument (as he falsely pretends 
c If you ask how I prove the the two Debares to be writ by you? I answer by the same argument wherewith you prove W. B. etc. p. 29.  to prove that person whom he strikes at to be the Author of them, which I have to prove those Ten Sermons, cited so often in the first Debate, to be the work of W. B. Those two letters being set before them; and we being told in words at length, that they were composed by Mr. Wil Bridge, in a Catalogue of Books printed by Tho. Parkhurst, at the end of Mr. Sam. Rolls his Book called London's Resurrection.  
But I should write a new Book, should I proceed to represent only all the weak and ungrounded Conclusions which this Man makes in that Preface. Who he is, I have plainly enough signified to those who will be at the pains to read this Dialogue; relying chief upon his own confession to several persons, though it is easy enough other ways to find him out. To whom I intended at first, another person should have directed a very short Preface; I mean, that the Epistle of Isidorus Peleusiota to Candidianus 
d L. 1. Epist. 480.  should only have been prefixed to this Book, and no other. And though, for good Reasons, I have made a longer myself, yet I shall commend that also to his Meditations.  
Why dost thou make such haste to injure him, whom thou oughtest rather to love, for declaring what opinion all have of thee? Differences have often corrected and set strait men of ingenuous spirits, by making way for a cure of that which they have contumeliously committed. If therefore thou thinkest those things reproachful which thou hast heard, preserve thyself by well-doing unreproachable. For if thou dost amend thy works, these disgraces will vanish together therewith.  
That I assure you, was my end in Writing again, to make him better known to himself, and the Truth better known to the People: to make him more careful what he writes, and them more careful what they believe. If any will still surmise, that I have other ends than what I have declared in this and former Prefaces, I have nothing to say to such now, but that which a discreet and grave person 
e Mr. Francis Merbury (mentioned upon a good occasion in the following Book) Epistle before his Sermon at the Spittle. 1602.  (whom they dare not discommend) said long ago when he was misconstrued. The falseness of man's heart, if he set himself seriously before God, cannot so deceive him, but he may discern whether he have a care to avoid evil, and to glorify God. In this care I have had my part; and if men will report me otherways, my Conscience, as Job (31.36.) shall make her a Garland of their Reports.  
I am not the first whose words have been wrested, and design misrepresented and defamed; nor shall I be the last, as long as any honest man will speak truth, and but one of that angry and discontented brood remains, which occasioned that apology now mentioned. His words are remarkable in the middle of his Sermon, concerning those who then desired a change; with which I shall conclude.  
There are two Cruel Beasts in the Land with gaunt bellies; the wickedly needy, and the wickedly moody. The wickedly needy are they in all degrees, who have consumed their own Estates, and now hover over other men's. The wickedly moody are they, who have treasured up wrath and revenge in their minds against those, who have been God's instruments for their Nurture. These disdain that a due defence should be opposed to their undutiful offence: and both these and the other (as it is said of Lions) have for a time crooked in their nails to keep them sharp; but they look for a day. And God grant a day to as many of them as be impenitent; and that the day they shall see may be as Zachary saith (14.12.) when their eyes shall sink in their holes, and their tongues consume away in their mouths.  
Octob. 13. 1669.   

A TABLE OF THE CONTENTS.  

THe Arts and shifts of the N. C. page 1, 2, 3, etc.  
Some of them noted by my Lord Bacon. page 5, 6.  
A cheat cried up by some of them for a mighty work of God. page 7, 8  
Their ont-cries and clamours page 10  
And scornful pity page 11  
With denouncing of judgements upon their adversaries page 12  
The surious folly of Philagathus. page 13  
Who resolved not to be convinced. page 14, 15  
And fancies himself another David. page 16  
But is more like Don Quixote. page 17, etc.  
A short account of his misadventures from page 19 to 38  
A ready way to compose a great Book, etc. page 39, 40  
An answer to his cavil against the Title of my Book page 41  
How he misrepresents my words page 43  
A wretched Apology for his Friend's page 44, 45, etc.  
His unjust and undutiful complaints page 46  
Makes the people believe they are Martyrs page 47  
And in Eyptian bondage. page 48  
Ingratitude to their Governors, etc. page 50, 51  
The bold Ignorance of this man. page 52, etc.  
An instance in his Discourse of the Demonstration of of the spirit and of power page 54, 62  
Origen's interpretation of those words page 57, etc.  
St Chrysostom's page 59  
And divers others of the Ancients page 60  
And of the Modern Writers page 61  
Which clearly show the impudence of this Writer page 62, 63  
He abuses Peter Martyr, etc. page 64  
An easy way of writing Books. page 66, 67  
E●asmus put in to make a vain show page lb. & page 68  
Another instance of his shameless boldness page 70  
The true ground of my Interpretation of those words, page 71, 72, 73, etc.  
Mr. Baxter's opinion of Grotius page ib.  
Philagathus rather to be called Antilegon page 75  
An odious disease which some of them are sick of page 76, 77  
The sum of my charge against this man page 79  
Their pride makes them call those proud who oppose them. page 80  
Of Faith's justifying us page 83, etc.  
Other things about it page 87, etc.  
His idle questions noted page 90, 91  
His rare qualities page 92  
His Ignorant Discourse about the Pomp's of the World page 93  
What they were which Christians renounced in Baptism page 94, 95, etc.  
How enticing they were page 98, 99  
The Assemblies Definition of Faith page 100, etc. 106, 107  
A new Cheat discovered page 101, 102, etc.  
An authentic Explication of the Assemblies meaning page 108  
The Act of Indemnity impertinently alleged page 110, 111, etc.  
A true report of that Act and of Oblivion page 114 to 130  
A fine way to keep posterity in ignorance page 118  
Philagathus his false zeal page 119, 120  
The N. C. crossed the Design of the Act of Oblivion page 125, 126  
They keep up marks of Distinction page 127  
Their old bad Principles ought to be remembered page 129  
They make a show with words without sense page 130  
Their partiality page 131  
How they get credit with the people ib. & page 132, 133  
Who are abused by ignorant but confident talkers page 135  
A remarkable instance of it page ib. 136  
An account of the Liturgy of Scodand and others page 137 to 145  
Mr. Capel's and others opinion of Set Forms page 144  
Another proof of Philag. bold ignorance page 147  
And presumption page 149, etc.  
His lame account of their Opinions about the Covenant page 152 to 157  
The great Charity of the N C. page 153  
In what danger we are, if all be true that Phil. says page 154, 155  
Their great presumption. page 157  
The Power of Boldness page 159  
Some instances of the great Impudence of this man page 160, 161, etc.  
Of their smuity Discourse page 163  
A wicked Suggestion page 166  
Two of their Popular Arts page 168, 169  
How Smect. dealt with Bishop Hall page 170  
They abuse the Scripture as the ancient Heretics did page 171, 172, etc.  
A Discourse of Dr. Jackson's on this subject page 174, etc.  
W. B. misapplication of Scripture page 176  
And others page 177  
Their conceit of themselves page 179, & 198  
And sottish abuse of holy words page 180, 181  
Impudent excuses they make rather than confess Errors page 181, 182, 186  
Of pretences to Visions page 183  
Another dangerous notion of W. B. page 185  
Of Pretences to Revelations page 187, etc.  
New Lights page 18●  
How mild they are toward high offenders among themselves page 192, &c  
The reason men so easily believe lies and asperse others page 195  
And rake Libels for them page 19●  
His wicked suggestions about Sacrilege page 201, 20● &c  
His pitiful Apology for them page 20●  
Mr. Udal's Book about Sacrilege page 20●  
How they misimploy their thoughts page 2●●  
A wretched reasoning page 212, 21●  
How little they value the Peace of the Church page 21●  
How much the Ancients valued it page 21●  
The hard haerteduess of the N. C. page 216, 21●  
The lying and juggling of this Writer page 219, &c  
Their aptness to complain page 2●●  
And self-love page 224  
Another old trick of the disaffected page 225, etc.  
Their undutiful and causeless clamours, etc. page 227, 228, etc.  
Deprivation for not Conforming to Public Order is not Persecution page 234, 235, etc.  
Magistrate's Power to appoint fit Instructers of his people page 237, 238  
Necessity of punishing those that do not conform page 240, etc.  
The N. C. against so much as a connivance heretofore page 244  
The peaceableness of the old N. C. when deprived page 247  
Now they are like the Donatists' page 250  
Men murmur least when Laws are strictly executed page 251  
The witlessness of Malice page 255  
It is not Godliness but themselves which they contend for page 256  
N.C. have acknowledged the Canting of some of their own party page 257, etc.  
How Mr. Calvin and others have been belied by furious zealots page 260, etc.  
The wild Logic of Philag. page 264, etc.  
The Assembly slighted by themselves page 269, etc.  
They love to abuse us in holy Language. page 272  
The wicked spirit among N. C. page 273  
Several sorts of them page 275  
Their proud conceit of the power of their Ministry, page 278, etc.  
Men grow worse when they become Separatists page 282  
Their own Books inform us of a wicked generation among them page 286, etc.  
Advantage the Papists make of their Schism page 289, etc.  
Why called Precisians page 290  
Philag. his Character of the N. C. page 295, etc.  
Lies and falsehoods in his Preface page 298, etc.  
Anotable instance page 302, 303, etc.  
Lawfulness and usefulness of Forms of Prayer maintained by Mr. Roger's page 307, 308, etc.  
A Form of his which they will not imitate now page 311  
Their Prayers more dangerous page 312  
Mr. Egerton's Advertisement about Prayer page 313  
Dr. Preston's page 315  
The newness of the contrary opinion and practice page 315, 316  
The spirit not straitened by a form of words page 317  
Philag. against himself page 319  
Of the Lies which are in his Book page 323. to 330  
Particularly about Excommunication page 330, 331, etc.  
Of going to Plays page 334 to 339  
The Ordinances of Parliament about them page 340  
How he abuses good sense page 342, etc.  
The N.C. could see and Act worse Plays than any are now page 346, etc.  
Of Trading in Promises page 354  
And absolute Promises page 355, etc.  
Their Faith acknowledged sometime to have no ground page 357, etc.  
Of eyeing the Glory of God page 359, etc.  
Wretched Interpreters of Holy Scripture page 361, etc.  
Of Desertions, etc. page 364, etc.  
How they have debauched Religion page 367, 368  
Justify abuse of Scripture page 369, etc.  
Pretend to mysteries when they are none page 374, etc.  
His vain babble about Experiences and other things page 376, etc.  
Of Perverters of the Sense of Books page 378, etc.  
Punishments contrived for me page 380, etc.  
W. B. lousy similitude page 382  
Wit not to be sought page 384, etc.  
Wrangling without cause page 388  
Considerations about the making up our breaches page 391, etc.  
Of Schism page 394  
Scandal page 395  
Presumption of this Writ●● page 396, etc.  
And of his fellows page 398, 399  
What Praving by the Spirit page 403.    

ERRATA  
Page 25. line 2. read Caraculiambre. p. 26 l. 16. for Landaf, r. Caerleon. p. 26. l. 1. add in the marg p 151. of Sober Answer. p 60 l. 26. r. manner. p. 75 l. 24. r. Sophisters is in him. p. 142. marg. r. Duplies p. 143. l. 13. d. and, before nice. p. 153. l. 1. r. and will. l. 20. O ye. p. 184. l. 19 r. wherewith. p. 225 l 27. that they might. p. 230. l. 4. r cravings. p. 234 l. ult. r. their Discipline. p. 278. penult. flatly de● p. 282. l. 20. r. pertly champer. p. 285. l. 6. r. to sins. p. 288. l. 25. r. Martin Mar Priest. p. 31. l. 12. r. for the tooth. p. 323. l. 2. d. as. p. 325. 2. for from, r. form. p. 333. l. 14. r. Caracalla. p. 34● l. 22. r. the point. p. 354. l. 19 r. Traders. p. 355 l. 25. r. of it. p. 356. l. 1. r. requires. p. 361. l. 1. Dau. Kimchi. p. 364. l. 5. r. desertions. p. 367. l. ●. r. melancholy patiented. p. 377. l. 8. r. so much. p. 37● marg. r. Lord Seguier Chancellor, etc. p. 380. l. 11 d. I may be able.   

A FURTHER CONTINUATION AND DEFENCE OF THE Friendly Debate.  N. C. 
NOw for an Ishmael!  C. 
Are you the Isaac's then, against whom to speak a word, is to scoff at the Children of God? And must we be all cast out, like the bondwoman, and her son, to make room for you the Holy Seed?  N. C. 
I did but use the words of a late Writer, who hath answered your two Debates. p. 19  C. 
That hath snarled and carped, you should have said, at some things in them which he did not understand, and—  N. C. 
This is your old Pride.  C. 
It is one of your old Arts rather and wretched shifts, to call men proud, when you cannot confute them; and when you have blotted a great deal of Paper with senseless or impertinent stuff, boldly to cry it up for an unanswerable piece.  N. C. 
What Arts do you tell me of? I know none, we use but honesty and plain dealing.  C. 
We know a great many other, which have always stood you in mighty stead. One is, to extol the men of your own party to the very sky, to magnify their gifts, their zeal, their sincerity, their self-denial, their tenderness of Conscience, their pains taking, together with their sufferings, though never so small; And on the other side to disparage ours, or, at the best to speak very coldly of them, though never so pious and learned: nay to shake your heads sometimes, and lament their Ignorance in the mystery of Christ, the meanness of their spiritual gifts, the formality of their pravers, their unedifying preaching, and (as it is to be feared) their straining Conscience to comply with the times.  N. C. 
Pray let's have no more of this.  C. 
Why may I not tell you a few other Devices that have been in use to win and keep your Proselytes? As to brag of your numbers, to spread stories and lies by your Agents and correspondents from one end of the land to the other; to fill every Country with the very same tales; to possess the people against the writings of those of our way; to give glorious titles to your own Books; to cry up your sufferings, as if they were for the cause of Christ; to call all things you do not like, I dolatry, Antichristianisme, Popery, and such like odions and frightful names; nay, such hath been the tenderness of some of your hearts, as to threaten your poor neighbours they shall have no work, at least to deny to employ them, unless they will come to your meetings.  N. C. 
Now you calumniate to purpose.  C. 
It was a thing notorious in the late times, as Mr. Edward's assures us; and I have cause to think this evil humour is not spent, but rather increased. But be that as it will; you have a number of far more efficacious Arts than this. As, to vaunt of the power of your preaching, of the glorious appearance of God among you, and of the multitude of Converts to you; to bespatter all that oppose you; to persuade the people, it was good live that made so many turn Conformists; and that they have lost their gifts, and are much decreased in their graces: at least you have thought good to terrify them, and bid them take heed; for they have lost the prayers of thousands. But if any adventure to write against you; woe be to them. Whatsoever they were before, immediately they become the enemies of God and all goodness. The people are told, that they strike at the power of godliness through your sides; and that they reproach Religion, when they reprove your Superstition. Every reprehension is called railing and hatred to the people of God; and whatsoever fault they find, it is done on purpose, you say, to bring all godliness into contempt. In short, to suppress you, is to suppress the Spirit; and but to speak against your affected language, is to be desperately profane: for who ever saw the beauty of Zion, and the glory of the Lord filling the Tabernacle, but in your Congregations? Let any man go about to contradict this, it is but pouring out half a dozen Scriptures against him, nothing to the purpose, and he is confuted; nay, one word will do the work, and he shall be thought to write rarely, and to come off like an Angel, who can but say; The Lord rebuke thee.  N. C. 
You had as good hold your peace, for I believe nothing that you say.  C. 
I can prove in every particular by true and faithful histories, that this hath been the humour of your Sect.  N. C. 
Save yourself the labour; I have no time nor list to hear you.  C. 
Nor to read good Books; but only to babble, as your Answerer doth, out of your own head. Did you never see a little Book called, A wise and moderate Discourse concerning Church Affairs?  N. C. 
No.  C. 
It was Printed in the beginning of our Wars, 1641. And I find it since put among my Lord Bacon's Works: there you may find several of these things noted. First; saith he, 
* Speaking of the Oppugaers of the present Ecclesiastical Government.  they have appropriated to themselves the name of zealous and sincere and reformers; as if all others were cold, minglers of holy things, profane men and friends to abuses. Nay, if a man be endued with great virtues and fruitful in good works, yet if he coneurre not fully with them, he is called (in derogation) a civil and moral man, and compared to Socrates, or some Heathen Philosopher. Just contrary to St. John, who would have called such a man Religious; and told such as many of them, that h● vainly boasts of loving God whom he hath not seen, who loves not his neighbour whom he hath seen. St. James also saith, that this is true Religion, to visit the Father less and the Widow. So as that which is but Philosophical and moral with them is, in the phrase of the Apostle, true Religion and Christianity. And as in affections they challenge the said virtue of zeal and the rest, so in knowledge they attribute 〈◊〉 themselves light and perfection. The Church of England in King Edward's days wa● but in the swaddling , or in the Cradle: in Queen Elizabeth's time but in it infancy and childhood. The Bishop's h● somewhat of the Day break, but the Maturity and fullness of light is reserved fo● themselves. And as they censure virtu●● men by the names of Civil and Moral, 〈◊〉 those who are truly and godly wise (a● discern the vanity of their Assertions) they term Politicians; and say their Wisdom is but carnal and savouring of man's Brain. And in like manner if a preacher speak with care and meditation, ordering his matter distinctly, and enforcing it with strong proofs and warrants, they censure it as a form of preaching, not becoming the simplicity of the Gospel; and refer it to the reprehension of St. Paul, speaking of the enticing words of man's wisdom. You may read there a great deal more to the same purpose, if you have a mind to see your own picture. But nothing methinks is more memorable than the blind rage and fury, which the discovery of a most impious cheat excited in some of your predecessors hearts. There was a young Preacher pretended to a power of Casting out Devils; which he began to assume in the year 1586. and more openly professed 1597. This made a great noise of glory, lights, lamps, and shining beams which now appeared in the work, 
a Discovery of the fraudulent practices of John Darrel etc. A●. 1599 p. 19  It was given out to be a marvellous work, a mighty work of the Lord Jesas, which all that loved him in sincerity must be careful to publish: a matter of as great consequence and as profitable to all that sincerely professed the Gospel, as ever any was since the restoring it amongst us 
b Ib. p. 16. : And though first her Majesty's Judges, and then her commissioners in causes Ecclesiastical, found by the free confession of the party said to be dispossessed, that it was a mere cheat and a wicked combination to abuse the people, yet they ceased not to cry out, that to deny the dispossession was in a sort to deny the Gospel. It appeared so evidently (said the Author of the brief Narration) to be the finger of God; as though we ourselves should forsake it, and with Judas betray our Master, yea with Pharaoh set ourselves to obscure it: yet the Lord if he love us will rather make the stones to cry out and utter it, Yea the Devils themselves to acknowledge it, than it shall be hid. And I would advise them that slander this work and persecute the Servants of God without cause 
* For Darrel you must know was imprisoned. , to take heed lest they be found even fighters against God. Now would you know, what the business was which made these men stickle and clamour in this fashion? It was briefly this. When Mr. Darrel and his friends prayed by the Book, the boy, or as they said the Devil in him, was but little moved; but when they used such prayers as for the present occasion they conceived, than the wicked spirit was much troubled. He acknowledged them also to be powerful men, and that he was much tormented by their powerful preaching 
** Disco: very p. 35.48.49.50.  This was it which tormented the Bishops also, to see such mean persons do such wonderful things, or to use their own words, It cannot be endured, said the Narration 
c vid. p. 6. , that these kind of men which are accounted the offscouring of the world should be thought to have such interest in Christ Jesus, as that, by their prayers and fasting, he should as it were visibly descend from Heaven and tread down Satan under their feet: whereas other men, 
☞  who account themselves more learned, excellent, and wise than they, do not with all their Physic, Rhetoric, pomp, and primacy accomplish the like. But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise, and the weak things of the world to confound the mighty. A place of Scripture as well applied, as that in the 4th. of St. Matthew, He shall give his Angels charge over thee, etc. and very fit to stir up the people's hatred against their Governors, who appeared against this Holy Cause, as they called it, and laboured to suppress this mighty work of God.  N. C. 
I have no leisure to hear these old stories, long since dead and buried.  C. 
Nor have I any need to look so far back. For this very Scribblers Book, which you tell me of, is a bundle of such like lewd and impudent tricks and shifts, as I have mentioned: though the truth of it is, they are so poorly managed; that any one may see he is a mere bungler in his own trade: and elther for want of wit, or through the violence of his passion, cannot understand so much as common sense.  N. C. 
O Luciferian Pride! O attempts to outrail Ralyhakeh! You may make another Lucian in time, I had almost said another Julian, if you persist in this way.  C. 
You have his words by heart 
a p. 31. of his answer , and it is most stoutly and resolutely answered. But I must tell you, it hath been always thought (as Mr. Chillingworth well observes) a mark of a lost and despairing cause, to support itself with impetuous outcries and clamours: the faint refuges of those that want better arguments. And little doth he know, whom he imitates in these brutish exclamations. I never saw any man more like that fellow in Lucian, who cried, O 
b 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  accursed wretch, O damned villain, when he could say nothing else.  N. C. 
Yes, both he and we have something else to say.  C. 
That is, you have a scornful and supercilious way of pitying those, whom you have a mind to vilify, which carries with it some show of goodness; when it proceeds from a great disdain of others, and an high opinion of yourselves. You may remember it, is like, without sending you to a Book of undoubted credit where you may find it, who it was that said publicly, He intended to have preached before the poor wretch (viz. his late Majesty, then near his death) upon 14. Isa. 18.19. etc. but the poor wretch, said he, would not hear me. Another also having jeered our Divine Service as much as he pleased, at last, wiping his mouth, sanctified all with a sigh or two over us, as poor deluded Souls: and then we were much indebted to his charity.  N. C. 
You will be called to an account one day, for your malevolent and mischievous writings.  C. 
That's another way you have to astonish and delude the Multitude, by thundering out Threaten, and denouncing Judgements against us: in which this Gentleman is very powerful, and may pass for a Boanerges. There being this device also accompanying it, to make the Art more effectual; which is, to cry out Blasphemy! if we do but mention any of your Follies; to tell the people (as T. W. doth 
a Epistle to a new sermon c●lled the Fiery Serpents. 19 Febr. 1668. ) that you wish we have not sinned the sin unto death; and to bid us, take heed, that some do not think (as this scribbler speaks) we have done despite to the spirit of grace 
b p. 101. of sober Answer. . Thus I remember some wrote a letter to Bp. M●ntague 
c Annexed to the appeal of the Orthodox Ministers (as they called themselves) to the Par. against him printed at Edinburg. 1641. , wherein they do bat charitably hope he hath not committed the Unpardonable sin; exhorting him to recant publicly of his malicious Errors and Heresies, or else, they tell him, he could never have Salvation. But after this (as if they were in no danger, do they what they would) a fit of railing follows; wherein they upbraid him with his birth and parentage, nay, with his very looks and visage (in such vile language as I will not name) and at last conclude in this fashion, If you can, love the Lord Jesus, and do belong to his Election of grace 
d p. 31. .  N. C. 
Me thinks you have an art beyond all these, having shifted and put me off thus long from what I was going to say, that your Book is answered, and—  C. 
And soberly too, as the Title pretends.  N. C. 
Yes.  C. 
That's strange, when he roars and cries out so hideously, as we have heard; and complains that he is in a passion; that I have made him spit and sputter; nay spew in my very face.  N. C. 
Do not use such words.  C. 
They are his own confessions. 
a p. 14.31, 289. . And he acknowledges withal, that he was impatient till he came out against me; that he could not find a man so imprudent and desperate as himself 
b pag. 2.3.31. ; and having laid about him very furiously, he puffs and blows, and says he is overheated; in so much that he is fain to cool himself again with some Holy breath and falls to prayer, when he can exclaim against me no longer. This shows him to be one of the right strain; that can do these things which they condemn, and immediately betake themselves to their Prayers and say I hate myself for it 
c p. 22. ; and then they are well, and ready to do the same again. A thoroughly honest man would have laboured to undo what he saw he had done amiss; as he might, if he had pleased, with one stroke of his pen. But there is no such demonstration of his fierce and fiery spirit, as this; that he resolved to confute the second part of my Book before he saw it, at least before he would consider it?  N. C. 
Why do you say so?  C. 
Because it did not come to his hand, as he tells you 
d it was May 3. and he began April. 21. pag. 81.  till he had written several sheets and printed some (as I have reason to think) and yet they bear the Title of an Answer to the two Friendly Debates. At least he clapped on this Title as soon as the second part appeared, and before he had duly weighed all things in it; for I know those that saw some of his sheets printed with that Title presently after May the 3d. when he first received my Book. Was not this bravely done, and like a man in his sober wits? Are not these like to prove excellent men to guide your Consciences, who resolve before hand, if we reason with them, not to be convinced, but to adhere to their party right or wrong? I could not but fancy him, when I observed this, in such a posture as Mr. Burroughs thought he saw Mr. Edward's, fretting and chase in his study, saying to himself, I will answer him, I that I will: I will reply, I that I will. Like one Piso, St. Hierome speaks of, who though he knew not what to say, yet he knew not how to hold his peace. If he could have had a little patience till he had read but the Epistle of my Book seriously, he might have met with such advice as would have cooled him better than his Prayers, viz. To know before he judged, and not to believe all flying Tales. But an Answer it seems was to be thrust out in all haste, no matter how it was composed, or of what lies it was made up. He could not stay to think much about it, nor indeed was there any great need; being to please those mean Spirits, who like a work best, (as a great man observes) when it resembles those Sacrifices, out of which the heart is taken; and where, of all the Head, nothing is left but the tongue only.  N. C. 
And why, I beseech you, should not he answer you? Are you such a Goliath of Gath, that no man can deal with you?  C. 
I took a measure of myself before ever I took pen in hand: and know very well how much inferior I am to my neighbours. But the more to set off the greatness of his own courage and noble Atchivements he paints me like that uncircumcised Philistine: and then fancies himself to be a chosen one, picked out by God 
e As God would have it, I proved to be the man. p. 192.  like another David to enter into a single combat with me. This he was not contented to tell us once 
f p. 1. , but as his manner is, he repeats it again in his fulsome preface 
g p. 28. . Having no fear but this, that after he had killed Goliath he should rise again, and renewing the fight should bring some other Giant into the field with him, and be two to one; which all know is unequal. And therefore distrusting my generosity of which he had some opinion when he concluded his Book 
h p. 192. I think you a more generous Enemy than to set any body beside yourself upon me who have encountered you without the help of a second, etc. , he betakes himself to Conjurations to keep me from taking that advantage. I may well conjure you, saith he, that if I must be replied to, you alone would do it, for it is not equal that you should have a second, and I have none. It was enough for such a stripling as David to encounter one Giant at a time; and you are taken by some for another Goliath. What ailed thee, O thou flower of Chivalry, to faint on this fashion? How came thy stout heart to quail at last? Thou that canst pour out Scripture upon thy Enemies as thick as Hail-shot, that canst charge and discharge as fast as a man can spit, that canst dispatch Dragons as easily as Goliah's; Why shouldst thou fear a thousand Giants, though as big as Steeples, any more than so many Crows?  N. C. 
Pray cease your fooling.  C. 
I assure you he must pass, at least, for one of the Seven Champions; for no body, he tells you, is thought to be my march, unless a St. George who killed the Dragon 
i Pag. 292. . Behold the man then, Horse and Arms, and all. See how he flourishes and swaggers, and resolves to pull me down from the third Heavens, whither he fears the breath of the people, and my own vanity may in fancy have transported me 
k Ib. 292. . But the mischief of it is, this Doughty Knight had no sooner bestrid his Beast and marched a few paces, but by some Enchantment or other he lost his wits, and was turned into a new Don Quixote. For if you look into the very next page 
l 293. As he told Hezekiah, that he would deliver him 2000 Horses if he were able to set Riders up a them: so it hath been said, if any man would be the Rider, 〈◊〉 mean, the Answerer of your Book, he, or rather his Book, should come mounted into the World upon the Back of a● Authentic Licence, &c I hope than I shall not miscarry, etc. ; you will find that he fancies my Book to be an Horse, himself riding on the back of it, and which is most wonderful, at the same time fight with it: and it was none of his fault, I assure you, that he was not also mounted upon the back of an authentic Licence. But nothing daunted for want of that, up he gets on the Back of the Book, and giving it line upon line (as he speaks) and lash upon lash, away he flies with his head full of Chimaeras and impossible Imaginations. For he had but just fetched his breath, and spoken a few words, before the poor Book was turned into a strong City or Fortress; and he walked round about it; as his own description of his adventures tell us, told the Towers thereof, marked well its Bulwarks, considered its Palaces 
m Pag. 294. , and setting down before it, either besieged or stormed it, he knew not whether; and, in his fancy, pulled down all the strong holds thereof, and brought into Captivity every Notion in it, that did exalt itself against Truth and Godliness. And yet he had not travailed far, before it was turned into a mighty man again, and he thought he saw a Samson, threatening to pull down the whole Fabric of Religion, as he did the House upon the Philistines 
n Pag. 22. of the Preface. . And then it was a Goliath, as I told you 
o Ib. p. 28. ; and a very few minutes before 
p Ib. p. 27.  it appeared like Geryon, a Giant with three heads; nay, he did not know but it might be a whole Legion, compassing Religion, as he elegantly speaks, with Ram's Horns to make it fall like the walls of Jericho 
q Ib. p. 25. .  N. C. 
I think you are horn mad.  C. 
You imitate his puny jests very well. And to confess the Truth, I am a little out; and must correct my Error in not beginning in good Order. I should have told you, as the custom is, that of all the days in the year it was April 21. 
r As he tells in the the beginning of his Book. , in the cool of the Spring 
s Which makes the adventure more wonderful, Don. Q. fury happening in the warmest day of July. , the Nonconformists being then in the tenth degree of Taurus, or to speak in plain terms, in the Second of the twelve Signs of the Zodiac of their sufferings.—  N. C. 
Your wit sure is in the fall of the leaf.  C. 
Very well. I am glad to see you in so good a humour; but you must laugh at him, and not at me, for they are his words I assure you 
t P. 246. I had almost said they have run through all twelve of the Signs in that Zodiac of Suffering which I spoke of. . Then, I say, it was, when the good Knight Philagathus, or as he is sometimes styled, Philogathus (for there is a difference about his Name, as there was about Don Quixotes) abandoning the slothful plumes, and causing certain old rusty Arms to be scoured, which had a long time lain neglected and forgotten, in the great Magazines of Qui mihi, Propria quae Maribus, Syntaxis, and other such like famous Armouries, put on his Cap, took up his Pen or Lance (call it which you please) and mounted his Steed, marvellous content and jocund to think what a noble enterprise he took in hand, of cleaving Giants, beheading Serpents, killing Monsters, finishing Enchantments, and in one word, righting all the wrongs, and redressing all the injuries, that had been done to the N. C. He had no sooner sallied forth, but a world of windmills whirled in his head; and at every turn he fancied he saw some huge Giant, some impious Goliath defying the Armies of the living God. Upon these he sets with a zealous rage, and by his own single arm, in his conceit, vanquishes them all; not having so much as a Sancho Pancha to wait upon him. A Monster or Prodigy of ill Nature, for instance, presents itself, the greatest, one of them, that ever he heard of 
u Pag. 80. . At the first sight it seemed to his roving thoughts like Bloody Bonner, but a little after, like cruel Nero, breathing out nothing but death and destruction. This put him out of all patience, as he tells you, so that after a few words, he could neither think nor speak any more of it; but falls on to thresh it like a Sheaf of Wheat to the very dust, for fear it should heat a fiery furnace, which now appeared in his Imagination, and which the Monster, he thought, might bespeak for them. Thus it was in danger to become a Nabuchadnezzar, and before he had done, it appeared in the shape of the Devil himself; every one suspecting that if it were in the power of this Fiend, he would cast them body and soul into endless torments 
x They are his words, p. 149. . And who do you think this Nero-like Monster was? you will scarce believe it; but if you consult the Book, you will find it was no body but St. Paul himself, or a poor Conformist explaining and using his Words 
y Friendly Debate, 1. Part. p. 53. ; to show his neighbour that, according to the Apostles opinion, he might as well suffer him only to commend some persons a little, as suffer others to do a great deal more than that comes to: This made it vehemently suspected that our Don's brains did more than Crow at this bout, and that he crasht his teeth, and was perfectly mad with rage. The first occasion of which was a bodily fear wherewith he was surprised, that the Monster had a design to forage all the Country, and leave it so naked of Belly-ware, that he and his must starve. This kindled his wrath, and made his eyes so red, that he could see nothing but Blood, Death, and Hell fire; though there was not the least spark, I assure you, of envy, anger or ill-will in him whom he yells against. But let us pass by this; and next behold a Monster of Pride, taller by the head and shoulders than most others, which started out of his fancy and set itself before him. It was the more frightful, because it was thus large, and yet but a young Cub; not yet grown up unto the measure of the stature of the fullness of Pride; as he is pleased to describe it 
z P. 196. . He resolved therefore to slice him, and make minced meat of him before he grew too boisterous, and stretched himself as high as Lucifer, or the Morning Star. I● which Planet, if you will believe an History 
a Lucian. Verae Hist. L. 1.  as true as his Book, there are people by this time so big, that from the waste upward they are as tall as the great Colosfus of Rhodes. But of all the Apparitions he encountered in this Frenzy, there were none put him into so great a Passion, as an huge Giant, just like that wicked Alifamfaron, a furious Pagan, mentioned in the famous History of Don Quixote. 
L. 1. Part. 3. c. 4.  For he conceived he saw him taking a course, that Divinity might be exchanged for Philosophy, Christianity for Heathenism, our Bibles and the Precepts thereof, for Seneca and Epictetus 
b Preface p. 18. . All the Country was in danger to be wasted by him; for he threatened, as he imagined, to pull down the whole Fabric of Religion 
c Ib p. 22. , and to extirpate praectical Holiness from Dan even to Beersheba, from one end of the Land to the other 
d Ib. p. 12. . For the compass of which, behold a great rout, with a numerous train of Artillery following him at the heels, I know not how many Maxims, Stratagems, Directions, Aphorisms, and other clattering words, as you may find in his terrible Preface. Where he tells you they are very unsound and unsavoury, yea profane and impious, yea and bend against Religion 
e Ib p. 39 . Thus he multiplied Monsters in his wild Imagination, which made those things appear profane and impious, yea and bend against Religion (for these things are different in his conceit) which are as in nocent as that Flock of Sheep which Don Quixot● took for so many Giants in Alifamfarons' Army. So some of his Friends, as I understand, told him, and would have restrained him (as Sancho laboured to do his Master) from making such a desperate assault upon such harmless things; but nothing could withhold him: Away he flings and hunts up and down, as Don Quixote did among the Sheep, saying, in great heat, Where art thou proud Alifamfaron, where art thou? O have I found thee? come to me thou proud Wretch, for I am but one Knight alone, who desire to prove my force with thee man to man, and deprive thee of thy life, in revenge of the wrongs thou hast done to the N. C. And just as he was thinking to chastise his Pride, he fancied himself transformed into an Angel and Messenger from Heaven 
f P. 201. . to give the Villain such buffets, as he thinks he will remember all the days of his life.  N. C. 
You said, he would take away his life. Pray make an end of this idle tale.  C. 
You must know he was so merciful, as not to kill him, provided he would submit to this condition, to go to W. B. as Don. Q. resolved to enjoin the conquered Caraculiamtro to go to his Dulcinea, and falling on his knees with an humble and submissive voice ask forgiveness 
g Pag. 41. , and say, I am that furious Pagan, the destroyer of Religion, the rooter out of Practical Piety, whom the never too much praised Knight Don Philogathus, hath overcome in single combat, and hath commanded me to present myself before your greatness, that it may please your Highness to dispose of me according to your liking. This being done, he tells him they will shake hands, as the Lawyers do after they have fought at the bar, and say how do you Brother? I hope there is no hurt done, but all is well again 
h Pag. 290, 291. .  N. C. 
It's well the fray is over: and I hope you have done your Story.  C. 
I have omitted a number of pleasant conceits that came into his head, which would make a Volume as big as Amadis de Gaul, should they be all written. And now I mention him, it calls to mind a notable dispute which happened between Don Quixote and a neighbour of his, touching who was the better Knight Palmarin of England, or Amadis de Gaul: for just such another doth our Don raise about this Question, Whether St. Taffee, or St. Patrick was the better Saint. Many words he makes about it; and in spite of the Irish, or the red letter before his name, St. Patrick, in his judgement, hath the worse of it. And no wonder: for such was his gross Ignorance, that he poor Soul took St. Taffee or David, for the Divine Psalmist the King of Israel. When as every child knows, who hath read true Histories, and not pleased himself like this Knight in his own Imaginations, that he was a famous Bishop in Wales about 1100. year ago; who by the favour of King Arthur translated the Archi-Episcopal See from Landaff, to that City which bears his Name to this day.  N. C. 
I confess here he stumbled grieveously. But I thought you would have been so kind, as to have imputed it to the power of Enchantment.  C. 
That I confess is the best excuse, which will make his mistakes as pardonable as the Errors of his Predecessor Don Quixote; who took his Inn for a great Castle, and the honest Host for the Noble Constable of it. And indeed a pleasant sight it is, to behold how while he is searching for one thing, he still encounters another, as Sancho sorrowfully told Maritornes. He transforms every thing he meets withal into something else quite of another nature; and now it appears in one shape, immediately in another so vastly different, that the great Enchantress the Author of all these transformations, (I have forgot her name, but it ends also in fee or fia 
* Dokesisophia as I take it. ) is much to be admired. As for example, now he fancies me riding like Phaeton in the Chariot of the Sun, setting this part of the world on fire; and in a trice, before he had well finished one Sentence, the wind of my Spleen (mark the distraction of his fancy) is rumbling in the bowels of the Earth, to make an Earthquake all England over 
i Preface, p. 6. . At this instant he quarrels with the Rational Divines (as he calls them) and makes a fearful stir with them; and at the next breath, they are turned into Romantic Preachers, that would plant all Religion within the compass of the famous Arcadia 
k Ib. p. 12. 13. . As for himself, you shall find him like a Roman Sergeant with a bundle of Rods at his back, but let him speak a few words, and he is turned into a Robin Hood, and appears with his Bow and Arrows which he lets fly among us 
l Ib. p. 31. .  N. C. 
No, only at yourself. For 〈◊〉 labours to give no offence to Jew or Gentle, or to the Church of God, as he the● tells you, p. 34.  C. 
Very well observed; he is excee●ing tender of all Jews and Gentiles, in● which his distracted fancy transforms some of us; but there are certain P●grims, what they are in his esteem, Jews Gentiles or Christians, I cannot tell, 〈◊〉 whom he grins very often and makes u●ly mouths, nay, let's fly with all h● might, and treats them very rudely. B● he is never more extravagant, than wh●● he comes to talk of keeping days, whi●● is as dear to him as Dulcinea to his Brother Don. This he compares to emptying the Body by Bleeding and Purging Spring and Fall, or as occasion serves▪ and yet at the very next glance conceives it like to exceed in our Diet, 〈◊〉 eating and drinking to a greater fullness 
m Ib. pag. 18, 19  All this shows that he is out of his wit● and needs a little bleeding himself. If he were sent from that Hospital where he now is, to that without Bishopsgate, it might do him a great deal of good.  N. C. 
Now you by't.  C. 
I am between jest and earnest (as he speaks, p. 293.) but by no means can ●e made angry with him: Especially when I see how prettily he frisks, how lightly he leaps over all difficulties, and jumps from one thing to another at the greatest distance; just l●ke the Knights-Errant, who are carried in a cloud from one Country to another in the twinkling of an eye: being now in England, and immediately at Trap●sonda by the help of the wise Enchanter. And then he doth so nimbly, and with so much facility apply every thing he meets withal to his raving Chivalry and ill-errant thoughts (as the Author of Don Q. History speaks) that it is no small pleasure to behold it. Besides, he is so marvellously well satisfied with his performance, and thinks at every turn he comes off so rarely, and with such wonderful success, that it cannot but give one a singular entertainment. He meets, suppose, with a Rational Divine, and speaks never a word of reason to him: and yet away he flies like Lightning, as if he had seen that old Sophister, the Devil. Nay, he fancies sometimes that he sees a whole Regiment, whom he calls the Rational Regiment 
n Pag. 68 : but that's all one, he hews them down as if they were but so much Grass; and in two words, his Worship hath got the Victory. More th●● this, while he is in this career, and imgines one part of the Castle (i. e. t●● Book) to be taken and demolished; 〈◊〉 wonders the other did not fall to th● ground of itself, or vanish rather o● of sight 
o See p. 197. . For, saith he, I have pro●● at large, about the beginning of my Book, the this is the right sense, and yet you con●nue wedded to your own Exposition, etc. 〈◊〉 if his Answer had appeared before t●● Book he encountered was all in being or as if upon his combat with the beginning of the Book, the rest shou●● have disappeared; and the Letters turn as white as Paper, for fear that 〈◊〉 should see them. What, are you at 〈◊〉 again, after I have so chastised yo● Dare you look me in the face again wi●● that Exposition, which I have batter●● and banged you for? Methinks yo● should have remembered the blows yo● received; and knowing the weight 〈◊〉 ●●y arm, not come within the reach 〈◊〉 it any more. But, O stupidity! I fi●● you continue wedded to your own Exposition, nay, keep a woeful hugging and da●●ling of the Bastard, after I have dashed i● brains against the stones. To this purpose the man mused, as you read i● the place now quoted. Whereby you may see, he hath a crack in his brain so wide, that one may put two or three fingers into it.  N.C. 
I am very sorry for him, I think he is an honest man.  C. 
You need not trouble yourself at all about him. He is as merry as a Cricket for all this: and enjoys himself most sweetly in the thoughts of his noble achievements.  N. C. 
But he hath stumbled so scurvily, that he hath wounded himself very much in my opinion.  C. 
Never fear; he is so full of mettle that he will scarce feel it, though he should receive such a blow on the jaws, as was given Don Quixote; which left him but two teeth and an half; all the rest being as plain as the palm of my hand.  N.C. 
And I must tell you, that would be a sore affliction: for a mouth without cheek-teeths, as my Author says, is like a Mill without a Millstone. Those Grinders are precious things, much more to be esteemed than Diamonds.  C. 
He is so jocund, that he values them not; but would think himself as good a man, though he should live upon Pap, and be fed with a Spoon. Besides, I must let you know, that he hath a great Vial full of Balsam, altogether as powerful as the famous Balsamum of Fierabras.  N. C. 
What is that? I understand not your hard words.  C. 
It was the best Balsam that any Knight-errant ever had. For the virtue of it was so great, that should a man chance to receive such a bang upon his side as buried two or three of his ribs in his body, nay happened to be cloven in twain, so that one half of him fell on this, the other on that side of his Saddle; yet a draught or two of it, if he w●re carefully set together again, would make up the breach entirely, and straightway render him as sound as an Apple. Such a precious Composition our Don Philagathus is provided withal, which consists of such ingredients as these; It is or may be; some perhaps; I had almost said; for any thing I know; I know nothing to the contrary; if I mistake not; and some other such like words 〈◊〉; whereby he can salve any thing, though you imagine the cure never so desperate. As for example, When W. B. is charged with Preaching that God is departed from the Nation, but will return, etc. 
p Pag. 190.  presently he produces his Bottle, and drops out one or two of those words, saying, It may be Mr. B. detests Treason as much as yourself, though careless Brachygraphers may—  N. C. 
What are those?  C. 
We have talked so much of Monsters, that you take them, I perceive, for some strange Creatures who abused W. B. They are those that take Sermons in Shorthand; who, saith he, may sasten some unwary expressions upon him, now and then; and such it may be as never fell from his mouth, etc. And now all is well, and W. B. as whole as a fish. Though others think for all this, that it may be he doth not detest it, and it may be those words did full from his mouth, and the Brachygr— (the hard word sticks in my throat) it may be did not abuse him; or rather it is certain they did not; otherwise he might have healed himself before this, in a better manner than this Quack can do; by assuring us in two or three downright words, that no such thing fell from his mouth.  N. C. 
I think, to say the truth, this is a pitiful Salvo.  C. 
It is just such another; when to excuse the Sauciness of some men's Prayers, he pertly and confidently replies, I know Nothing to the Contrary, but that your Ministers do miscarrry in their Prayers as oft or oftener than the N. C. do 
q Pag. 97. , and then he hath done the feat, and set them as strait as an Arrow. As if I should say, I know nothing to the contrary but that Philagathus his wife beats or scratches him every day, and makes him wish himself a Bachelor again, though never so stolen.  N. C. 
I beseech you throw away this Vial of Balsam, which is no bette● than a Tar-box, and very much offen●● me.  C. 
And will never heal, you should have added, his Error about St. Davi●, who, do what he can, was not the 〈◊〉 that killed Goliath, but a younger an● lesser Saint than St. Patrick. He mu●● find some other Drug to cure Ignoranc● or Distraction of Mind: and he wa● certainly then in some such raving fit 〈◊〉 that, wherein he met with Pontius P●late, and took him for a Believer. Nay he was in good earnest; and brings ●●ny arguments to prove that he had 〈◊〉 real and strong persuasion that Christ 〈◊〉 the Son of God, and Saviour of the World 
r Page 65, 66.  Do you hear, saith he, you the Author of the Friendly debate, who have been Preaching two years (as hath been said 
s Pag. 121. ,) why men should believe. Do you know what a Believer is? Have you learned to understand your Creed? I will prove that Pontius Pilate was as good a Believer as any you will make, according to your Doctrine. To this purpose he dreamt in that fit.—  N. C. 
But he hath rubbed his eyes, you must know, since that, and sees he was mistaken 
t Preface, p. 35. .  C. 
Are the Ordeal, the hot Coulters, the Ploughshares, the Noli me tangere's, and all the dangerous things he speaks of 
u Pag. 2. of the Book.  vanished too.  N. C. 
Yes, they are shire gone: He fears them not, for they were only in his imagination 
x Pag. 37. of the Preface. .  C. 
Then he gins to come to himself, as Don Quixote did before he died: and though he be as yet but half awake, (for he only remembers that he somewhere asserted Pilate to be a Believer, he cannot tell well where) yet he may in time recover his perfect senses, and recant all that he hath said: Especially if some friend will be at the pains to rouse him; as, I have reason to believe that he was beholden for this little illumination, to some honest Sancho or other: who always talked more soberly than Don, and would never believe the Windmill to be a G●ant, nor the innocent Muttons to be monstrous devouring Pagans, coming to fight against the Christian Fa●th. When the Enchantment is finished, it is to be hoped he may be in as good a mind; and so we will leave him, and prosecute his innumerable follies no ●urther.  N. C. 
You will do him and me too I gre●t kindness: for I am weary of it.  C. 
But if some Schoolboy about the Town should take the toy in his head, to finish th● History, How can I help it? Or if some young Preshman in the University shall take him to task, and belabour him as the Yanguesian Carrien did D●n Quixete with their Truncheons, in the Vale of Pack-staves; or toss him in a Blanket, as, the Play-some Clothiers did Sancho, till mere weariness constrained them to give over: he must thank ●●●self for it, who would neers ●e so bo● 〈◊〉, and play with words 〈…〉 manner, that it would 〈…〉 the Posteriors of a Lad 〈…〉 King's School at Westminster, who should be caught at such despicable sport.  N. C. 
I hope you will be so civil as not to set any young Wag upon his back.  C. 
No indeed, I love not the sport so well. But if he continue at it, or any other imitate him; then I would desire that gentle Youth, who shall entertain us with the History of such adventures, that when he sets before us the Onions, the Anchovies & other Sauces, which Philag. commends 
y Pag. 50. , he by no means forget the Parsnips 
z Pag 52. Private person, expect some Sauce, as might be Parsnips; yet such windy things must be eaten temperately by N.C. for fear of such Cracks as you are, that will publish them with an ill report. : a rare kind of sauce, which hath this admirable property; that if they be eaten by Non Conformists, and prove windy in their Guts; the Conformists shall crack and stink for them.  N. C. 
Foh! I doubt he will jerk him terribly for this conceit.  C. 
I have a fancy comes into my mind of a more proper punishment for him.  N. C. 
What should that be?  C. 
The same which the Cavalier del F●bo suffered when he was taken in a snare.  N. C. 
I understand you not.  C. 
A secret Author, of no small credit, tells us, that they gave him a Clyster of Snow-water and Sand; which made such work in the poor Knights entrails, that it had gone very ill with him, had he not been succoured in that great distress, by a wise man, and his very great Friend:  N. C. 
He being a Doctor, can cur● himself. But I pray for my sake pass by these things, the Bull, the Calf, the Milch-Cow, the Dairy and all the rest 
a Preface, p. 28. and Book, p. 30. .  C. 
There, he would tell you, lies the very Cream of the Jest.  N. C. 
I beseech you, let Cream and Cheese go too; and now look upon hi● as a sound man, that is restored to his right understanding again.  C. 
I have done: and wish with all my heart he may never hear more of this from any body else.  N. C. 
If you have done, and will be serious, I will ask you a few Questions, which, methinks, concern you very much.  C. 
Let's hear them. You shall se● how solemn and composed I will be.  N. C. 
You cannot deny but that he discourses very orderly sometimes, and its thought hath touched you to the quick. What say you, Do you not feel yourself sore with the wounds he hath given you?  C. 
You begin to be pleasant, now that I have done.  N. C. 
I think you have infected me a little; but I intent to propound some things very soberly to your consideration, wherein he is said to have confuted you: hoping you will give me as sober an Answer.  C. 
I promise you to consider every thing as gravely and as impartially as I can; to answer you also without any puns, which he calls jests, in which I dare not vie with him. And, to speak plainly, it is a thing much below me; besides, that his wit is so despicable, as I told you, that there are boys of 17. and of no great parts neither, who are much superior to him. I will endeavour also to speak pertinently to the business, and not ramble as he doth. We will have no great Volume neither, for I know he can write Books with most men for a Wager: A Martyrology 
b See Pag. 237. : I make no Question, as big as Mr. Fox's, and that in a short time, and with no mean show of Learning. For as for the Stories; it is but taking up all the Reports he meets withal in the Streets, and sending Messengers to all the Coffeehouses, and Letters into all parts for the Country Tales, and that work is dispatched. And then for a show of Learning there is nothing need be done (as a Friend of the Author of D. Quixotes' History told him) but only to bob into the Book some Latin Sentences, which he knows already by rote, or may easily get without any labour. As for example, when he Treats of Liberty and Thraldom, he may cite that, Non bene pro toto libertas venditur auro; (You understand it, I suppose, or at least believe it is Scholarlike.) If he have occasion to mention Death, he may have recourse to that, pallida mors aequo pulsat pede, etc. A notable sentence, and very well known ever since Horace his days. If of the inconstancy of Friends, Ovid is at hand with his Distich, Donec eris faelix, multos etc. If of Love, He is ready to befriend him with his Hei mihi quod millis, etc. I need not recite the rest, nor tell you that there is an honest Book called the Grammar, that will furnish him with Diruit, aedificat, etc. and an hundred more such like rarities. As for other lesser shreds and bits every Schoolboy hath them at his finger's ends: The common phrases also (as ad nauseam usque, etc.) they are so familiar with this Author, and he hath contracted such an acquaintance with them, that they will all run to him at an hours warning, and will leave me never an one to assist me. Therefore I shall of my own accord wave them all, and desire them to stand by, or go into whose service they please; intending to shift as well as I can without them. Now what have you to say? I am not only a single person, as you see, but quite naked and disarmed of all those weapons wherewith he is so well appointed; so that you may hope to prevail, if Truth cannot defend me. And that I protest Is the thing I will contend for, not for Victory.  N. C. 
Come on then: Say well, and do well. How can you defend so much as the Title of your Book? Are you a friend to those whom you cannot endure within five mile of you 
c Pag. 4 of his Book. ; but urge the Law against them?  C. 
You have answered yourself, and and would have called him carnal, I am sure, should One of us have asked you such a Question. Do you that are so Spiritual understand no other kindness but what is done to your Bellies? I love you so well, that I would have you Innocent; and am such a Friend to you that I desire to see you at the widest distance from any sin.  N. C. 
Pray stay Sir; your kindness is much suspected. If I should propose some such question to you as Christ di● to Peter. Simon lovest thou me? you dur● not say, thou knowest I love thee 
d Ib. .  C. 
No indeed.  N. C. 
Did not I tell you so.  C. 
I think I may conclude without any offence, that you are not yet s●● knowing, as to search the heart. You● Philag. indeed supposes our very souls li● open to you; else, why doth he endeavour to satisfy me 
e Preface, pag. 1. , that he doth n●● know himself to have ever received the least injury from me in deed, or word, 〈◊〉 thought? But you must pardon us if we be of another mind, and cannot appea● to you as St. Peter did to Christ. If yo● will judge of us by our words, than 〈◊〉 can more than say, I can protest that even those Debates were writ in kindness to you, and he ought to have thanked him that told you of your faults, had you any mind to amend them I protest also, that I had no respect to any particular person in that passage, which he thinks so full of deadly poison 
f P. 4. of the Book. ; and therefore it was the aching of his own Tooth that made him snap at me. But why do I spend the time in such trivial things as these? The Prefaces to both my Books might have satisfied any unpassionate Reader, what my intention was. But he very fairly takes no notice of them, lest they should have made him throw away a great deal of the civil language he had to bestow upon me. And for as good a reason, I make no doubt, he overlookt the Continuance of our Debate, because it would have undone a good part of his Book, which is there already answered 
g As about the non-execution of Laws; sharpness, scandal, and many more too long to number. .  N. C. 
I must not let you pass thus with the Reputation of good Nature. It was not kindly done of you, to bring in the N. C. uttering such words as make the King to be a Tyrant 
h P. 8. of his Book. .  C. 
As imply you should have said. But I pray tell me, What shall be done to this false tongueed Philagathus, who tells us in another place very boldly, that I bring in the N. C. speaking Treason, even saying, that the King is a Tyrant? Will you never leave this Trade of Lying?  N. C. 
You must pass by that.  C. 
If he had not told the world an hundred Lies more, I should not have taken notice of ●t. As to the thing he charges me withal; I did but set down those words, which more besides me have often heard, and supposing they were rashly spoken, without consideration of what they employed, let them go with that Confession. What greater Candour could he desire? and what reason was there for his pains to excuse the N. C. from judging the King a Tyrant? save only that he was glad to snatch an opportunity to praise, as well as be could, the mercy and clemency of his Majesty towards them. But I believe I shall make him wish he had held his tongue, and spared his ill-favoured and ill-contrived Rhetoric. For first 〈◊〉 only tells us that the Sober Non-Conf●rmists ●refar from thinking the King a Tyrant 
i Ib. p. 8. . It seems there are some so mad● and desperate as to be of the contrary opinion. And how many who can tell? or what may be the issue o●●t?  N. C. 
For the love of God, be not severe against that slip. Or let the Sober men make an amends for their defects: 〈◊〉 it is possible they love his Majesty more than you.  C. 
And it is possible they may not love him at all. Was there ever such a wretched Orator to plead any man's cause in so great a matter as this? Would any man of wit have apologized for his Friends with his, it may be's, it is possible, for any thing I can tell, and such like words with which his Book abounds?  N. C. 
Whatever his words are, he doubts not, as you may see, but that N. C. have a greater Sense of his Majesty's mercy than C.  C. 
Why so?  N. C. 
Because they have been so great offenders.  C. 
Did ever any man hear such Reasons? Do we find, that they to whom much is forgiven commonly love very much? Are there no ungrateful wretches in the world? Or, Hath it not been the constant complaint, that the most are insensible or forgetful of benefits? And doth not one refusal of men's de●●●es often blot out the memory of all former grants of grace and favour?  N. C. 
You forget our Saviour's words which he quotes.  C. 
As he doth a number of other Scriptures nothing to the p●●pose. Th●y to whom much is forgiven, will ●●●e much, if they be truly penitent, as that woman in the Gospel was; but, Who shall answer for all these men's Repentance, and that it is never to be repent of?  N. C. 
Come, let this alone.  C. 
But pray let us see, whether this very man do not say those things, which plainly strike him out of the number of the Sober N. C.  N. C. 
Will you make him say, or imply the King is a Tyrant?  C. 
You shall hear. How can they be Martyrs and killed all the day long, and the King be free from that imputation● Do they suffer any thing but according to the Laws? And whose are the Law● I beseech you, but the Kings? Can the Parliament make Laws, or any body else, but only the Sovereign? See no●● how this rash and desperate man hath entangled himself! To say the Laws are tyrannical, he confesses, is Treason or next to it, because it implies the King to be 〈◊〉 Tyrant, page 8. And yet before he hath done, he says in effect, they are tyrannical; When he tells us the N. C. d● think that they, or some of them have been Martyrs by us, and are until now kille● all the day long, nay crucified by us 
k V Pag. 229, 230. . And that it were no difficult thing to write a doleful Martyrology of their sufferings, and such as it may be would make my heart to ache 
l P. 231. . Would not a stranger think if he read this, that they lived in some Dioclesian's days? Doth he not write, as if some Pagan Prince, as furious as Alifamfaron, reigned over us, in whose days there are so many Martyrs as would make a Volume? Nay, whose cruelty is so monstrous, that he prolongs their torments, and will not dispatch them quickly?  N. C. 
Pray do not make your advantage of the word Martyrs, he only means sufferers for their Consciences, as he tells you in the place last cited.  C. 
Why then doth he use that word, if it be not to procure glory to you, and hatred to us? Cannot he speak in safer Language that needs none of his Expositions? And what do you think the People understand by it, in whose mouth he first puts these phrases of Martyrs and Martyrologies, and then at last tells them in Latin, what may be excepted against them? What doth he himself mean, when he tells of such sufferers as are killed all the day long? or, How shall the King avoid being thought another Pharaoh, if, as he supposes they are in an House of bondage 
m P. 148. ? Insomuch that, as he tells us, with open mouth, both King and Parliament are clamoured upon up and down the Nation for undoing the Families of many hundreds of godly Ministers 
n P. 236. . Is not this a Sober Nonconformist; and a most excellent Apologist for his Brethren? I pity him with all my soul, and wish I knew how to Apologise for him. The most that I can say is, that these are words of course, wherewith you were wont to rail in former times, and he hath not yet forgotten the old language. We rejoice, said the General Assembly 
o Letter of the Gen. Assembly to the Assembly of Divines, August, 1643. , That Christ at last hath created a new thing in that Land, in calling together, not as before, a Prelatical Convocation to be Taskmasters over the people of the Lord, but an Assembly of godly Divines, minding the things of the Lord. And the Independents said the same to these godly Divines, or rather made them worse than those ungodly Egyptian Bishops.—  N. C. 
Pray forbear such odious words.  C. 
Can you make any other Construction of what they writ? but as I was saying, the Independents upbraided them, 
p Toleration justified, in Answ. to the London Ministers Letter to the Assembly, 1646.  that they could not rest satisfied with being free as their Brethren, but laboured to become Lords over them; which is just, said they, as if the Israelites after the Egyptian bondage had become Taskmasters in the land of Canaan one to another. But that it is more in them, who have been better instructed by our Saviour to d● to others, as they would that others should do to them. Thus you talk● in time past, and if you had forgotten this Language, we would never have remembered it now. But since it is still at your tongue's end, and you persuade one another you are still in an house of Bondage; we must desire you to be more reverend to your Sovereign, and use him a little better than you do your fellow Subjects.  N. C. 
Doth not he acknowledge his clemency and benignity; and call him upon that score, the breath of our nostrils so far forth as we breathe, or hope to breathe in a free air?  C. 
If you read his words, he hath so many limitations, that they spoil all. They account him, saith he, in that respect to be, as it were, the breath of their nostrils, so far forth as they breathe or hope to breathe in a free air. Would to God he would go to School somewhere, and learn to speak plainer, or rather to hold his tongue. For this, and some other things, make many suspect that all these fair words are but like Mercury's Pipe to lull Argus asleep. If you breathe not in a free air, or if you have not hope of it, if he be not kind to you, and do not as yo● would have him; then away goes the breath of your nostrils in a whi●, according to this Writer. And I must tell you, that notwithstanding all the Clemency he here talks of and seems to be thankful for, he plainly affirms before 〈◊〉 concludes that there are those out o● whose heads this conceit can hardly be beaten, That they had never enjoyed t● peace they have, but that God gave us tr●ble and interruption by the Plague, Fire, an● Sword 
q Pag. 122. , an● he adds; But a word to 〈◊〉 wise. You understand his mind, it's like better than I, who can make no sens● of it but this; That they are beholds to Plague, Fire, and Sword, not to his Majesty for the peace they have enjoyed.  N. C. 
You make very harsh Interpretation: sure no body hath 〈◊〉 thoughts.  C. 
This is no new thing, but it ha● of old been the way of such dissatisfied people to seek how they might work upon our distress: and then, notwithstanding all their good words, to pretend a necessity they should be favoured. Thus, I remember, in Queen Elizabeth's days, they made long Discourses, to show how they prayed for her Majesty in the business of 88 though, as Dr. Sutcliff 
r Answer to a certain Libel Supplicatory, etc. Printed 1592. pag. 54.  replied, their tumultuous praying and prating in those times did rather discourage than encourage any. And then at that very time did Martin frame his seditious Libels, and then others preached seditious Sermons; nay, Martin signior professed that when the Enemy was ready to assail us, there were an hundred thousand hands ready to subscribe the Supplication of the Puritans at home. Which, saith he, in good policy (we being in fear of outward force) might not be denied nor discouraged.  N. C. 
No more of Martin, I entreat you. We had too much of him the last time, and indeed have too much of this.  C. 
He may thank himself, who, like Chaucer's Cook, would needs be busy where he needed not, taking much pains for which neither side will think themselves beholden to him. The Observation of Solomon should have been remembered by him, which might have kept him from meddling with things he could not manage; That as a thorn goes into the hand of a Drunkard, so is a Parable in the mouth of a Fool, Prov. 26.9. For a Drunkard, (saith a famous person 
s Bishop of Galloway in his Defence, 1614 Pag. 32. ) taking a thorn into his hand to strike his neighbour, hurts himself with it; and a fool pierces himself with the words wherewith he thinks to prick others.  N. C. 
It is thought he hath pricked you to the quick in his next exception, against your Exposition, of the Demonstration of the Spirit and of Power.  C. 
I have heard indeed, that many of you think, he hath foiled me there; nay, given me a deadly wound that cannot be healed. Alas! Good men. I pity his Ignorance, very much, and their credulity. If bold Bayard (to use the words of a learned Prelate 
t Bishop White Answer to a nameless Pamphlet, 1637. Pag. 18. ) were armed with David 's spirit and fortitude, who could stand before him? But if h● whole strength consist in wording and facing only, What can it avail an Ape to concei●● himself to be as strong as a Lion? Though he make a show, and fall on, as if be would tear all in pieces; he will foo● discover his weakness, when you come to grapple with him. I will close with him therefore, if you please, and try the force of this confident Gentleman. And I will pass by his misrepresenting my words, because it is a thing so usual with him, that he must have a pardon for it of course.  N. C. 
He will never believe it, unless you show it, at least now that you first charge it on him.  C. 
If you will have it so, then observe that he tells you, 
u Pag. 9  I doubt that Minister is not spiritually enlightened, who expounds those words otherwise than of the wonderful gifts of the Holy Ghost. Which is false; for I speak there 
x P. 5. of Fr. Debate.  of some other words of the Apostle, viz. the spirits searching the deep things of God which the natural man cannot discern. But, though it be a bad Omen to stumble on the very Threshold; yet, this is a trifle in compare with the rest that follows. For first there is not one of those Authors he citys, as far as I can discern (except the first whom we will examine by and by) who understands by Power any thing else than the gift of Miracles: and that was the thing I am there speaking of (though he, as his manner is, slips it over) Powerful, not Spiritual Preaching. By Spirit, indeed, some Interpreters understand something else besides the rest of extraordinary gifts which I mentioned.  N. C. 
Why do you say some, the stream of Interpreters runs contrary to you.  C. 
I know he saith so, p. 10. and it is a remarkable instance of his ignorant boldness. For where, I pray you, doth this stream begin? If you go up toward the Springhead (if I may so speak) and follow the stream all along from the Apostles time (as high as we can find it) the current will prove to be against him. But his stream gins at Peter Martyr, who is the most ancient Writer that he hath perused. An excellent person indeed; but we ought not to go to him as the Fountain of our Knowledge, not think ourselves learned when we can allege his Authority. For this will be to make ourselves as ridiculous as T.W. who P●eaching about the Day of Judgement, thus concludes his use of Persuasion to Christians to believe this Truth. Peter Martyr tells us, That some of the Heathen Poets have written, that there are certain Judges appointed (Minos, Radamanthus, and others) to examine and punish offenders after this life 
y Morning Exercise Methadised, Serm. 25. p. 615. 1660. . Whereby I perceive Peter Martyr is the top of these two men's learning, both for the Ancient Truth, and the ancient Fables. And yet I believe T. W. is not well skilled in Peter Martyr, but added his others of his own head; for we never read but of one judge more, whose name, if you will know it, was Aeocus: And before I have done, I shall make this man also as sick of Peter Martyr, as he was when he vomited (save in your presence) in my very face.  N.C. 
But what say you to Dr. Featly, who leads up the front of the battle?  C. 
I see his Name, but where shall I find his words?  N. C. 
In the Assemblies Annotations on the Bible.  C. 
The Authors of those, he tells us not without a brag, were N.C. p. 55. Now I am sure the Doctor was none: and therefore either here or there he hath overshot himself. I am afraid he will fall in love hereafter with that Figure which is so odious to him; and if you please, we will allow him the benefit of it, and let him make himself whole, with one of his hard words, called Synecdoche Let us here what Dr. Featly says.  N. C. 
He preached so, that his Doctrine wrought powerfully in the hearts of his Hearers. This he gives us for the Apostles meaning.  C. 
But second thoughts are usually better than the first, and he immediately adds (which this man suppresses) or, by the Demonstration of the Spirit and Power, he means the evident Confirmation of his Doctrine by the gifts of the Holy Ghost, and the signs and wonders which he wrought among them. And this indeed is the ancient Exposition, to which he was pleased to Preface with that of some of the modern Writers. For Origen—  N.C. 
Will you take no notice of Docto. Hammond whom he also quotes?  C. 
There is no need, if, as this man tells us, his Exposition be the same with ●●igen's: unless it be to show how lamely ●e reports it. For his Opinion is, that by the Demonstration of the Spirit may be meant, not only the proof of Christian Religion from the old Prophecies (which, I must tell you, was by an infallible Spirit bestowing an extraordinary gift, called Prophesying, and mentioned by me in my short Paraphrase) but also the descent of the Spirit on our Saviour at his Baptism accompanied with the voice from Heaven, together with the Spirits descending afterward on the Apostles, and by their Imposition of hands on others also. This together with the power of doing Miracles, he tells you, may be looked upon as the Demonstration of the Truth of the Gospel, and be the thing that is here meant. I can see therefore no difference between him and me. As for Origen, I shall go for his Opinion only to himself. And I remember very well that he tells us, over and over again, there is a Demonstration belonging to the Christian Religion, which is proper and peculiar to itself: A Demonstration more Divine (as he speaks 
z Lib. 1. contra Celsum. ) than that of the Greeks by Logic and Syllogistical Discourse (in other places he adds, or by Rhetoric) and it is this which the Apostle calls the Demonstration of the Spirit and of Power. Of the Spirit by Prophecies which were sufficient 
a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc.  to work faith in him that met with them, especially in those things which concern Christ: and of Power, by the prodigious, and astonishing works; which were certainly done, as appears from this Argument among many others, that there are some footsteps of them remaining among those who live according to the Will of the Word. Where by Prophecy, if you understand barely the ancient Scriptures, it is plain they were not sufficient to work faith in those that met with them, who were first to be persuaded by other means to believe them to be Divine Revelations. And therefore it is most reasonable to comprehend under that word, the New Revelations, or the Infallible Spirit of Prophesying in the Apostles, interpreting the holy Prophets in any Language whatsoever; which accompanied with Miracles and all the other gifts, was a Demonstration beyond all other of the truth of their Doctrine. If we look further into him, we shall better understand him; for in the third Book against Celsus 
b Pag. 152. Edit. Cantabr. , he repeats the same again, and more plainly than before. The Preaching, saith he, at the first founding of Christian Religion was with a 
c 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  power of persuading and bowing men's hearts, but not such an one, as was among those that professed the wisdom of Plato, or any other men who had no more than Human Nature. But 
d 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  the demonstration by the Apostles of Jesus, being given from God, was credible by the Spirit and Power: by which means their word, or rather Gods, ran speedily and swiftly. And again in the beginning of the Sixth Book. 
e Alleging the same words.  It is not sufficient that the thing is true, and worthy of credit, which is spoken, unless there be a certain power given from God to him that speaks, etc. which consisted not in mere words sure, but in deeds; the Spirit of God working in the hearer's hearts by the means of those miraculous gifts. You may find this place cited twice more in his Philocalia 
f Cap. 1. & Cap. 4. , where he expounds it to be a Celestial, or rather Supercaelestial power, whereby their Preaching was demonstrated to be true. All this makes it plain, that he understood the word Demonstration in a proper sense, for an evident proof of Christian Religion, and that it was nothing else but the Supercaelestial gifts wherewith they were endowed. And by this you may see I had some ground for my confidence, having observed these things long before I wrote my Book. But if you proceed further to S●. Chrysostom, he contracts the sense, and determines the words wholly to Miracles. Tell me, saith he, who is there, that seeing the dead rise, the Devils driven out, would not receive the faith? but because there are cheating Wonders (as those of Jugglers) St. Paul removes this suspicion; for he doth not simply say Power, but first the Spirit, than Power: signifying that the things which were done were spiritual 
* Beza follows this Exposition, making Spirit and Power, one thing expressed by two words; so Estius also among the Papists. . Oecumenius writes to the same purpose; and Theodoret plainly makes them both one. The Wonder-working of the Spirit 
g 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  witnessed to the Preaching: and the Apostle most appositely joined with the weakness of their suffering condition, the Power of the Spirit. And so St. Hierom, He would not dispute with them, lest they should think he came to teach them some new Philosophy, but he shown them Wonderful Works and Miracles. To whom you may add St. Ambrose; Since foolish things, saith he, dressed up with words (though weak in virtue) appear as if they were wise; God would not have his Preaching commended by the Testimony of words, but of Power; that the foolishness of the Word (as it was judged) might demonstrate itself by the deeds of wise Men, being founded after a Spiritual Manaer.  N. C. 
It will tyre us to follow the stream any further, and I see already which way it runs.  C. 
I may save myself the labour, if this bold Undertaker will believe Master Calvin (whom he much commends, but cares not to imitate) who, as became a knowing and an honest man, expressly acknowledges that Most restrain these words to Miracles 
h Demonstrationem spiritus & pot. quam plerique ad miracula restringunt. . Why do you shrug?  N. C. 
I see what is like to become of my good Friend Philagathus.  C. 
Never trouble yourself. He can prove, if need be, that Most signifies few or none. Musculus indeed tells us, that this word Power in the Evangelical History, is in a manner Always, used for Miracles: and under these two words he comprehends all that the Spirit wrought in and by the Apostles, and their Preaching. Which, methinks, is excellently expressed by Arias Montanus: He proved what he sa●●. by the manifest power of the Holy Ghost given by Christ to those that believed, and by the efficacy of healings, and other Divine Signs. Nay, his great Friend Peter Martyr, whom he makes us believe he consulted, is pleased to say little less than Mr. Calvin, that there are very Many who restrain these words to Miracles and Prodigies, which Paul wrought 
i Permulti sunt, qui haec ad miracula contrahant & prodigia, quae Paulus ed●bat, etc.  What he thinks of their opinion, you shall hear presently. Let us first hear what Face hath to say to me. The stream of Interpreters run an●ther way 
k Sober Answ p. 10.  It is the sense wherein most Divines do construe it 
l Ib.  You have the confidence to oppose the body of Interpreters 
m Pag. 11. ; and give us an uncouth and less acknowledged Interpretation 
n Pag. 122. : an Interpretation that deserved not to be once mentioned in opposition to others 
o P. 197. and pag. 279. the General current of Interpreters. : Bravely said, bold Bayard! and like a blind B. that fears no colours! Stand to●● stoutly, and rub thy forehead hard; for within that skull of thine is more contained than in all the world beside. A whole Body of Interpreters is lodged there, which Mr. Calvin himself never saw. There is a depth of Learning, that no body knows, running in the wide Channel of thy Brain.—  N.C. 
You had better have said, the wide Crack in his brain.  C. 
We have done with that merriment. And you may rather suspect 〈◊〉 crack in his Conscience. For how durst an honest man presume to abuse the world on this fashion? Who, but a man of a debauched Conscience, would repeat a thing so often, and with such assurance of which he had no competent knowledge? How will you excuse his Hypocrisy who commends his own Moderation and modesty, in this and another Book, and yet takes upon him publicly to contradict and control another without any ground? nay, to disparage him all he could, and charge him with vain confidence 
p Sir, this vain confidence of yours, doth justly provoke me, etc. p. 11. & p. 279. bewail your peremptoriness, etc.  and peremptoriness, when he himself had no other support, but wrote gross untruths out of his own imagination? Methinks he should hid his head for shame, and not appear in the open streets; unless he be of the Sect of that Philosopher in Lucian 
* In his Sale of Philosophers. , who professed to teach men above all things to be impudent and bold, to bark at every thing without distinction, to throw away all modesty, and blot all blushing quite out of th● face. For this is the Art said he, to arrive at glory in a more compendious way than by Education, Study, and such like trifles. If thou be'st an Idiot, a Mason ●r Bricklayer, it is no hindrance why thou shouldst not be admired, if thou hast boldness enough, and canst rail with a good grace.  N. C. 
He is none of those, I'll pass my word for him: though he be a little too forward.  C. 
A little too forward! very gently spoken, and like his great moderation, when he acknowledges any fault in his Friends. If he be capable of amendment, I will make him less forward, for I have not yet done with him.  N. C. 
You will be too tedious.  C. 
I cannot help it. I must make a thing as plain as A B C to him, or he will never see it. I pray desire him to consider where his eyes, or his honesty were, when he told us that Peter Martyr and Marlorate, both do find fault with them who restrain the meaning of tha● place to Miracles, and speak as if they did miss the main scope and intent of the Holy Ghost in that Text 
q Pag. 9 . Let him wash his eyes and look once more (if he ever looked at all) into Peter Martyr, and blush—  N. C. 
Why should you Question his consulting P. Martyr?  C. 
Because he is so far from passing any censure on those who are of this opinion, that after he had told us, Very many restrain these things to Miracles; he adds immediately, which perhaps is not beside the truth 
r Permulti sunt qui haec ad miracula contrahant, etc. quod so;— tassis non est a vero alienum. . This makes me think that your forward Phil. made a show of greater learning than he was guilty of, and that he went not so high as Peter Martyr where the stream is against him, and a very great one too, but contented himself with Marlorate alone, as if he were some Sea into which the stream of Interpreters emptied itself. He indeed thus reports the sense of P. Martyr, Many restrain these to Miracles, but the former sense agrees better with the purpose of Paul 
s Permulti haec ad miracula restringunt, sed prior sensus instituto Pauli melius quadrat. . But he ought not to have trusted this Abridger of Books, who as he tells us nothing out of St. Ambrose and Oecumenius, (which are two of the Authors he gathers out off, and are of a contrary mind to him) so he wrongs Peter Martyr, who doth not say, there is another sense that better agrees, etc. but only adds after the words last cited, But I more willingly take in that energy whereby the Spirit spoke through his holy breast 
t Sed ego lubentius complector 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 quâ Spiritus, etc. , etc. What think you, is this a man fit to write Books, and inform you in the truth, who takes things on trust, and at the second hand? How many things, may you justly conceive, doth he obtrude on you in the Pulpit for certain truths, which are notorious falsities, who thus in Print belies Authors, and runs away before he knows their sense? Nay, openly tells you, that the Most say a thing, when one of the best Expositors in the world, in the confession of all men 
u They are his own words of Mr. Calvin, pag. 121. , if you will believe himself, affirms that the Most say quite contrary.  N.C. 
You must consider that he wants Books, as he tells you in the Preface.  C. 
Then he ought not to have been so peremptory, as if he had read all Authors: and what he bids me do 
x Bewail your peremptoriness etc. speaking of this place, pag. 279. , is become his own duty, who ought to do a severt Penance for his Presumption, his vai● Ostentation of Learning where he had none, and his deceiving the poor people with mere wording and facing (as was said before) against a notorious truth.  N. C. 
I am sorry he did not repair to some Booksellers shop, which I suppose, are all furnished with Calvin, M●sculus, and Peter Martyr.  C. 
How should he write such a Book in six week's time and less, if he had been at that pains? He hath a better Shop for his purpose in his own Brains, where he can furnish himself with 〈◊〉 sort of Ware, without any trouble 〈◊〉 all. There are Comments and Histori●● good store, and a certain Worm of suc● an admirable property, that it doth no● so much feed on them, as feed them an●nourish them continually. And the truth is, I do not see what good those Authors, you mention, would have done him, had he gone to consult them. For either he is so giddyheaded, or loves so much to pervert men's sense, that he scarce ever conceives any thing aright, but abuses others as well as me. Marlorate himself cannot find fair dealing with him, who speaks in milder terms than he, as you have seen; and being but a reporter of other men's sense, ought not to have been alleged at all distinct from them. But he had a mind to make a noise with as many learned Names and words as he could find, having little else to credit himself withal. For why, I beseech you, did he give us Erasmus his gloss on the place (if you can believe him) in Latin only, when all the rest is English? For my part, I believe he could not construe his words, nor understand the true meaning of them, but put them in to vapour withal. You may know, if you please, that they are not his gloss upon the place, but only upon one word, not at all to our business. For they are not in his Paraphrase, but in his Annotations, where he is not expounding the words, Spirit and Power, but that, which we render Demonstration: which he would not have so translated; but, with the Vulgar, Ostension, or rather Ostentatien, i.e. showing and declaring, 
y Paulus 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈…〉 dec●●t●tur Spiritus Apostolicus.  so the Apostle calls it. ●aith he, For as much as the Apostolical Spirit is in the thing itself represented and nectared. What is this to his purpose? I ●ake ●o doubt he himself could not tell, but, to make a vain show of Learning, down it went without any meaning.  N. C. 
Pray English it for us.  C. 
So I have; and this is the meaning, as far as I can judge, that the Spirit of the Apostles was sufficiently shown and made manifest by itself; and there needed no other proof to declare it to be Divine. Which makes so much to my purpose (for how could it show itself to men's satisfaction, but by the Miraculous gifts?) that if he had understood it, he would have thrown it away. And let it stand aside, if you will; for another reason which he might have found in Beza, an ordinary Book, who confutes this Exposition of the word 
z 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  as not apposite to the place; it properly signifying, saith he, a proof which renders a thing evident, or demonstrates it from certain and necessary reasons. Such were the Supernatural gifts of the Holyghost: But the making men of our belief, and persuading them to receive what we say, is no certain and necessary proof, that we speak nothing but the Truth. No man can affirm that, who considers any thing; and therefore the Apostle speaks of such a sensible demonstration or proof; as I mentioned, without which they could not know certainly that there was a Divine Spirit in the Apostles. So the word is plainly expounded, Act. 2.22. Jesus of Nazareth, a man approved 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 denu●●●●ated to you to be of  among you, by Miracles, Wonders and Signs, which God did by him, etc. From whence I gother, that the thing whereby he approved himself to them, or demonstrated he was of God; was the very same whereby the Apostles demonstrated his Religion, viz. Miracles, Wonders and Signs; all the gifts of the Holy Ghost.  N. C. 
But do not the Dutch Annotators expound it otherwise.  C. 
They seem to understand by Spirit, the secret operation of the Spirit in men's hearts, though by Power the same that I do. In which they follow Erasmus in his Paraphrase: and Theophylact hath something to the same effect, though he presently betake himself to the Interpretation of St. Chrysostom before named. But how an inclination to believe a thing, or a persuasion wrought in me of it, should be a Demonstration, i. e. a proof that the thing is true which I am persuaded of, or inclined unto, is, as I told you, past my understanding. And therefore having such good company, I shall believe, notwithstanding all his barking, that they were the extraordinary visible effects of the Spirit either in our Saviour or his Apostles, or others who believed, which were the Demonstration, by the means of which the Holy Ghost convinced the understandings, and bowed the wills of unbelievers to become Christians.  N. C. 
I thought Grotius only had be●● on your side: and Philagathus tells us, he perceives, if Grotius be for you, as 〈◊〉 it were God himself, you are ready to say who shall be against you 
a Pag. 10. . As if y●● were bound to swear whatsoever Grotius 
b Ib.  saith.  C. 
I remember his words; and they are another notable Demonstration of the Hypocritical modesty, that is, the shameless boldness of this man, who will venture to say any thing, merely out of his own head, which he thinks may disgrace me; and endeavour without any proof, to make the world believe, that I pin my Faith on Grotius his sleeve, and make him in stead of a God. This he repeats I cannot tell how often, (as he shall hear anon with a witness) and, I will repeat it too, only out of that great forge, where the rest of his Book was wrought, his own imagination. For I protest sincerely, it is more than I know, if that be his Interpretation which I gave you: nor did I in all my life, to my best remembrance, consult with him about it. Though, I must tell you, if I had; I should in Mr. Baxter's judgement have consulted one of the five most judicious Commentators that ever wrote on the Scriptures 
c Beza, Grotius, Pilcator, Musculus, Deodat, Five of the most judicious Commentators, I think, that ever wrote on the sacred Scriptures. Second Postscript. af●er his Disput. about Right to the Sacraments, p. 539. . But as judicious as he is, in his opinion, I would have you know that I would never have followed him, without more reason than his bare affirmation. The naked truth is, that the very propriety of the words, and the drift of the Apostles discourse carried me, without any help, to this Exposition. Spirit every body knows who hath studied signifies commonly extraordinary gifts. If he will not be at the pains to examine it, I will quore him an Authority for it, which he often vaunts of; and that is Master Baxter: who tells you, that he who will observe carefully the language of the Holy Ghost, shall find this word, Spirit, or Holy Ghost, is most usually in the New Testament taken for the extraordinary gifts of that Age 
d unreasonableness of Infidelity. p. 12. . As for the word Power you heard what Musculus said. But beside, I have noted in my small Observation, that when our Saviour was sent into the World, he was anointed with the Holy Ghost and with Power, Acts 10.38. and that he told his Apostles, as the Father sent him, so he would send them, Joh. 20.21. From whence I concluded that they were to be anointed also with the Holy Ghost (or the Spirit) and with Power, as he had been. And so they were; for as at his Baptism the Spirit of God descended on him like a Dove (Mat. 3.16.) so on the day of Pentecost, which was the day of their Baptism (Acts 1.5.) they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, prophesying and speaking with tongues (as the Spirit gave them utterance) and presently working a great Miracle upon the Cripple, and with great power giving witness of his Resurrection 
e See Act. 2. v. 4.17.25. Act 3. v 2 etc. Act. 4. v. 33. . This I thought was the Demonstration of the Spirit and of Power, whereby our Lord was approved and demonstrated in his life time to be the Son of God; and by which afterward they proved his Resurrection from the dead, and so the Truth of his Religion. Spirit I take to comprehend, the gift of Tongues, Prophecy, Interpretation of Tongues, and all the rest, except doing Miracles, which in Scripture is called by the name of Power. Thus I observe they are distinguished, Gal. 3.5. He that ministereth the Spirit, and worketh Miracles among you, doth he it by the works of the Law? etc. where all gifts besides Miracles are called the Spirit. And the Author to the Hebrews saith, that God did bear witness to the Apostles Preaching, both with Signs, Wonders, and divers Miracles, and also with Gifts or Distributions of the Holy-Ghost according to his own will. These, and such like considerations were sufficient to persuade me to incline to that sense of the words which I gave you. But when I attended to the scope of the Apostles discourse, I had no doubt left in me: nothing so well agreeing with it (whatsoever this man prates) as that Interpretation. For the Spirit and Power is that which proved the Truth of the Apostles Preaching better than any Syllogisms, or artificial Orations could do, which he therefore calls a Demonstration, in opposition to those ways of persuasion which deserved not that name. Now what should that be which was the Reason and Cause of Belief; Since it is certain, the Spirit did not inwardly persuade men to believe without any reason? Can some me●● belief of the Doctrine prove, that others ought to believe? They might still justly ask, how those men came by their faith; what was the cause and groun● of it? If they said the Spirit persuaded them, How could they tell there was such a Spirit, or that a divine power wrought in them, unless they saw it by its effects, which were the Demonstration to Unbelievers? If you say, it was known by the change of men's lives, the exception against that, as no sufficient proof of Christianity, is, because many who believed were not throughly changed, but still lived ungodlily, even i● the Corinthian Church: There was some change also wrought in several men by mere Philosophers; and among the Jews, before the Preaching of Christ, there were many very good men and women. If by Spirit, you will at last say, is meant the ancient Prophecies, (without the extraordinary Interpretation by the Holy Ghost, which appeared many ways to be in the Apostles) that will not do neither as you have heard, unless you will imagine the Apostles preached to the Jews only: for that would have been to allege one unknown thing for the proof of another; and as if we should offer those for Sureties, for whose credit we need Certificates and Pledges. The Question, I say, would still have remained, How do you demonstrate those Prophecies to be Divine Revelations on which we ought to rely?—  N. C. 
No more words. I am satisfied.  C. 
And you are satisfied I hope that this is a man not worthy to be credited, and that instead of Philagathus, a name borrowed I think from Mr. Dents plain man's pathway to Heaven, he deserves to be called Antilegon; 
* The name of another person in that Dialogae.  a mere Caviller and Contradicter, that loves to wrangle and scold and gainsay right or wrong. The very Spirit of the ancient Sophisters whom Plato calls by that name of Contradicters and opposers 
e In sophista. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. , & he seems to me to be such a master in the Faculty, that he can shut his eyes when he pleases, and fall a quarrelling with any thing that comes in his way. But I hope after this Discovery of his tolly, he will cease to prate and outface, and labour to prove what he saith: otherwise I have some hope that none who read this will give him any credit, unless it be perhaps some goslings of his own broo●ng 
f They are Bp. Whites words to a nameless pamphleter. p. 118. . Be not ang y, for I assure you I have not the lea● spark ofer, nor was he able with all his scurrility to provoke me to kindle against him, all the time I read his Book.  N. C. 
You boast a little too much.  C. 
I must say it, that he and you may know how much I contemn such opposers, who may provoke one to laughter, but not to anger. No not though they should be so unmannerly and clownishly despightful as this rude scholar of that Cynic Philosopher I named is, who professes to have vomited his gall, or, as he calls it, delivered his stomach in my face.  N. C. 
It sticks in your stomach sure, you mention it so oft.  C. 
He loves repetitions, which makes me lay it in his dish again. But, as I was going to tell you, it immediately 〈◊〉 be to my mind these words of Mr. Burrough: 
g Vindication against Mr. Edward's. p. 3. , and that was all the hurt it old me: There is an odious disease in Nature, casting up the excrements at the Mouth; which is no less noisome than dangerous, and therefore the Physicians call it, Miserere mei Deus. Thus exulcerated minds affected with the like malady in Morality, being surcharged with superfluity of choler and malice, and not able to contain, break forth into distemper of words, and pour it out in unsavoury language; such we must leave to a miscrere; and if they will not pray of themselves, we must do it for them, and say, Lord have mercy on them. That's all I have to say about this to your choleric Antilegon. And if you have a desire, since they say some hold him for a wit, that he should continue to discharge himself in this manner for the service of the cause, I am so little concerned about it, that you may put forth another Petition, and never trouble me, in the language which some of you used against another Gentleman; that he may have free leave and liberty to run at the Mouth (though it be not natural that excrements should come up stairs) as long as he pleases; to scribble still without check or control, because as it is humbly conceived) all the danger of him is want of vent; and the more, he is prohibited the more perhaps he will do that which he is forbidd● by Lawful Authority; and the more 〈◊〉 will think himself considerable, if opposes by them whom he rails at 
h To the Supreme Authority of the Nation the humble Petition of certain peaceable people against etc. 1659. .  N. C. 
Why do you then meddle with him?  C. 
You forced me to it, by your continual talking and urging of me; otherwise I assure you I should have despised him and let him alone.  N. C. 
I confess I had a mind to her what you could say about this Dem● stration of the Spirit and of Power, because it was commonly said you forsaken the General current of Divines in yo●● exposition.  C. 
Just so Heshusius dealt with goo● Melancthon, whom he boldly accused of Blasphemy, and said, he treacherously and profanely played or made sport with the Scriptures, because he preferred the most ancient writers of the Church, before his Authority 
i So Paulus Ebetus tells us in his preface before his Comments on this Epistle to the Corinth. . And you have not forgot, I suppose, what some said of Mr. Baxter, because he left the modern opinion concerning the sin against the Holy Guest, though he endeavoured to establish a better in the room of it. But if it will do them any pleasure still to bawl and make a noise, I will give myself no further trouble about this matter, in which I have been too long already. And therefore I will not give myself the like liberty in ripping up every one of his gross errors and vain brags, which if I should carefully spread before your face, so that you might plainly discern them, it would make a volumn five times as big as his. Which is such a fardel of Ignorance and impudence, of disingenuity, spite and evil surmisings, of such false dealing, downright lying, pervertings of my meaning, wrangling without cause, vanity, presumption, abuse of holy Scripture, idle shifts and excuses for faults, that I never yet saw the like in so great abundance in any book in my life, nor I think ever shall.  N.C. 
A very high charge, proceeding it will be thought from your vain-confidence and the height of your pride, for which he hath given you so many buffets.  C. 
I feel them not; nor have any thing the worse opinion of myself than I had; though I think he hath told you of my Pride an hundred times. This is no more than his predecessors in this Art of reviling have charged their neighbours withal, when they deserve● better usage. There was one, for instance, that would needs prove from Mr. Baxters' writings (as this man labours to do from mine) that he was hypocritically proud. So he himself tells us 
k Appendix to the 5 Disp. of right to the Sacraments. p. 484. Preface before his Confession of Faith. , and you shall have my answer at present in his words. I will by the help of God search my heart for this sin of pride, and desire him to do the like, and see that he be well acquit from usurping Gods prerogative, and from slandering his Brother. 2. How came I to be so unhappy that only those that know me not load me with this charge, and never any of my Brethren told me of it to my face? 3. It will be worth such men's labour to search how much pride may lie in their impatience of Contradiction; and being such, that a man knows not how to speak to them, for fear of being contumelious in withdrawing or not giving them the honour they expect. I remember h●● St. Austin excused a friend of his to a man of such a Spirit, and with a fear least after all his caution he should seem contumelious himself in that Apology. I hear thou complainest of Memoratus a Brother that he answered something contumeliously to thee, which I beseech thee not to account a reproach: When as I am certain that it did not proceed from a proud M●nd. For I know that Brother of mine; if he speak any thing with greater fervency for his Faith, and for the Charity of the Church than thy gravity would willingly hear, that is not to be called contumely, but confidence and assurance of the tru●● of what he said. For he desired to reason and confer, not to fawn and flatter. In such a confidence, which I feel still unshaken in my mind after all his batteries; I will proceed, take it ●ow he please, to make good my charge: by giving only some notorious instances of all those things, and several others, as they occur to my thoughts; For we need not drink up all the Sea to know that it is salt, as Irenaus speaks; nor is it fit to trouble the world with too long a discourse about one man's follies. And if you please we will begin with his Ignorance.  N. C. 
It will be a very ungrateful discourse.  C. 
Not more to you than to me, who hearty wish there were a way of curing Ulcers without unripping them first and laying them open. But I look upon this man as so empty, and yet so confident and selfconceited, that there is no way to do him good, but by laying him naked before himself. And I doubt not also but to make my discourse very profitable to others who will give it the hearing; for he that corrects one may mend an hundred.  N. C. 
Proceed then.  C. 
You have had some taste already of his skill. St. Taffee will be a witness of it as long as he lives. But to take him down still lower, and keep him from meddling hereafter with things beyond his reach, I shall give you a more full demonstration of his Ignorance, and make it manifest that, of a Scholar, he is the worst Horseman that ever bestrid a Book (you will give me leave to allude to his own Rhetoric) having rid himself clean out of the saddle▪ And since Divinity seems to be h●● prime Profession, we will begin with●● principal point of it; and that is justifying Faith and good works. Abo●● which things he tells us how excellently Mr. 
d p. 18.  Baxter hath wrote: and because he hath done so well, imagine they are all sound in those points. Whe● as he himself, good man, either do● not know what Mr. Baxter saith, 〈◊〉 else is not of his Mind. From whence conclude that a man may as easily be 〈◊〉 Antinomian, and not know it (whatsoever he saith to the contrary) as he ho●● dangerous opinions about Faith, and not know it.  N. C. 
What are they? I know none.  C. 
He tells you not only what his own, but what the N. C. opinion is about Justification by Faith, in these words: We say, only Faith justifies as an Instrument, though not that Faith which is alone 
m Pag. 19  Now Mr. Baxter I assure you, is none of those, but must be exempted out of his We. For there being two things which this Boldface affirms, First, that only Faith justifies; and secondly, that it justifies as an Instrument; he will say neither of them for any good, but looks on them as dangerous Positions.  N. C. 
You just sure, or else Phil. is in a bad case.  C. 
It is as I tell you. For to say that Faith only justifies, is to say, that God doth not say true, who tells us, we are not justified by Faith only. This Mr. Baxter repeats over and over again 
n In his Disput. of Justification and in his Letter. : but I must cite the very words, or else I fear he will wrangle. The Question is, saith he 
o Ib. pag. 192. ; in what sense we are justified by Works, and not by Faith only. You answer in a direct contradiction to St. James, saying, it is by Faith only. So dare not I directly say, it is not by works, when God saith it is: But think I am bound to distinguish and show in what sense Works justify, and in what not, and not to say flatly against God, that we are not justified by works under any notion, but only by the Faith that works 
p Which is Philag. his Assertion. . A denial of God's assertions is an ill expounding of him.  N. C. 
This I confess is plain.  C. 
He speaks as home to the other part, and not only denies that Faith justifies as an Instrument 
q Confess. of Faith, p. 88, 89. , but saith, it is besides, nay, against the Scripture, to say that Faith justifies as an Instrument 
r Ib. pag. 295.   N. C. 
I did not think Phil. had clashed with M. Baxter, and held Errors of such a Nature.  C. 
Nor he neither; for he doth not use to think, but only imagine. If he had read and considered his Books, he would have found, that those who say Faith justifies as a 
s Quà Instrumentum, p 95.  true Instrument, do most certainly make it to justify as an action of man; and in saying that it justifies as an Instrument, yet not as an Act, or by Actions, they speak most gross contradiction: seeing an Instrument is an Efficient Cause, and Action is the Causality of the Efficient.  N. C. 
I do not well understand the danger of this.  C. 
He tells you 
t Disput. of Justification. p. 224. p. 214, 216. , It makes man his own justifier, or the next cause of his Justification, and by his own act to help God to justify him: For so all Instruments do help the principal cause. And yet by a self contradiction this opinion makes Faith to be of no moral worth, and so no virtue or grace, yea (I think) it lays the blame of man's infidelity on God. For the assertors of it have a device to make it a passive Instrument, from whence follow these absurdities.  N. C. 
I will not trouble my brains about it; but I see I may omit a Question, which he asks you, viz. Do you not think that good works are the Instrumental cause of our Justification as well as Faith?  C. 
I must tell you, in brief, that all the Questions he propounds to me in that place, are such as he would never have asked; if he had but attained a smattering knowledge in Mr. Baxter's writings; whom he commends, just as he discommends me, without understanding him. For he would have taught him, That neither Faith, nor any work of ours are causes of our Justification, either Principal or Instrumental 
u Confess. of Faith. pag. 31. and other places. Disput. of Justific. pag. 75.   N. C. 
But there is one Question he asks, wherein he prays you to speak out, for it is suspected there is a Snake in your Grass.  C. 
A Maggot in his Brain.  N. C. 
And that is, are not Faith and Obedience, both one, and the same thing?  C. 
He hath a resolution in Mr. Baxter. Our first Faith is not the same with Obedience to Christ (how should it?) yet it essentially contains are solution and Covenant to obey him 
x Confess. of Faith, p. 38, 39 . But there is no end of these impertinent Questions. You will ask me next, how I prove myself not to be a Papist?  N. C. 
No, I'll let the rest alone; because I see what you will say: and this indeed was not the main thing that you and I first intended to debate. Yet there are some Questions about this matter in another place, to which I would gladly have, though it be but, a brief Answer.  C. 
Where shall we find them?  N. C. 
There where he comes to your description of Faith, pag. 63.  C. 
I remember the place. Where I find him in the same posture that the Bishop of Galloway did his Reprover; vexing himself with his own anger, tumbling and weltering in the puddle of his tumultuous thoughts, whereof he cannot rid himself; bragging most vainly, but producing nothing that may be accounted worthy of an answer 
y Defence, pag. 169. . For I having told you that the Faith our Saviour speaks of in those words, Joh. 6.29. This is the work of God that you believe on him whom he hath sent (viz. justifying and saving Faith) is an effectual persuasion that Jesus is sent of God: He very gravely tells me that I deny Faith to consist in assent or persuasion (which are the same thing) and so contradict the men of my way. Was there ever such a giddy-brained man as this set a cockhorse, who posts away without his Errand, and tells the world, I deny Faith to be an assent or persuasion, when I tell him it is? Doth he no● deserve to have his fingers rapt, or to be sound scourged, that takes Pen in hand to confute a Book, and never minds, or else understands not what he writes against?  N. C. 
But you say, Faith consists not in a bare persuasion, etc.  C. 
True, That saving Faith, which I speak of, doth not consist in a bare assent to the Truth of the Gospel, but yet it is an assent, though it be something more. Assent is the General nature of Faith, but there is a difference between Faith that is saving, and Faith that is not saving, which I there expressed by the word effectual. And here again he blunders, and keeps a pother to make a plain ch obscure.  N. C. 
You will not say it was plain sure.  C. 
Yes, but I will: though nothing can be so plain and clear, which th● man's confused thoughts shall not trouble. The difference I made between this Faith which our Saviour speaks of and a bare persuasion that he came from God, was this: that it is a persuasion of that Truth with its fruits and effects. Which I expessed in these words, becoming his Disciples, sincere Profession of his Religion and living according to it. For unless, our minds being convinced of the Truth, it have this effect upon our wills to make us consent to obey it, and sincerely purpose to do according to our persuasion; and unless also, if we live, we make good this purpose, and both profess and perform obedience to the Gospel, we do not the work of God, which our Saviour speaks of, nor have that faith which will bring us to everlasting life. This he might have found affirmed by Mr. Baxter in as round words as mine, if he had spent that time in reading, and meditating, which he spends in scribbling. It's all one, saith he, 
z Appendix to Disput. of Right to the Sacraments, p. 509.  in my account to believe in Christ, and to become a Christian, etc. To be a believer 
a Disput. of Justif. p. 77, 78. , and to be a Disciple of Christ in Scripture sense is all one; and so to be a Disciple, and to be a Christian: and therefore Justifying faith comprehends all that is essential to our Discipleship, or Christianity, as its constitutive causes. To which he adds this Proposition, Those therefore who call any one act, or two, by the name of Justifying Faith, and all the rest by the name of works, and say, that it is only the act of recumbency on Christ as Priest, or on Christ as dying for us, or only the act of apprehending or accepting his imputed righteousness, by which we are justified, etc. do pervert the Doctrine of Faith and Justification; 
☞  and their Doctrine tendeth to corrupt the very nature of Christianity itself. I could add a great deal more with as much ease as I can write, but that I think this sufficient to be replied to his long babble about the Nature o● Faith, and we must not suppose the world at leisure to read the same thing over perpetually. If it do not satisfy him, let him enjoy the vain conceit of his own skill; nay, let him crow over me, and bear himself with the same pertness (to use an expression I have somewhere met with) that a Daw sits cawing an● pecking upon a Sheep's back: He will be but a Jack Daw for all that.  N. C. 
You grant then, that there may be a perswalion where it is not effectual.  C. 
Who doubts of it? But it is not saving Faith; which was the thing 〈◊〉 were speaking of. As he might have observed, had he not kept such a cawing to himself, that he could not hear us.  N. C. 
He makes account the Questions he asks you there are unanswerable.  C. 
He doth so. And not to dissemble, they seem to be no less subtle and profound than the admired Cryptick Question of Chrysippus; if you ever heard of it.  N. C. 
I know not what it means. 
Lucian in ●u Sale of Philos.   C. 
I'll tell you then, if you will Answer me. Do you know your own Father, or Mother?  N. C. 
Yes sure.  C. 
Suppose then, I should bring one veiled into your company, and should ask you, whether you know him, what would you say?  N. C. 
That I know him not.  C. 
But it is your Father; and therefore if you know not who it is, you know not your own Father.  N. C. 
It is a notable fetch.  C. 
Just thus your Champion assaults me. Do you know Sir, What Faith is? Yes say I: He finds the Question answered in my Book. But he disguises, muffles and puts it into a great many strange shapes, as well as his wit will serve him; and asks me again, Is this it you call Faith? To which he answers for me, No, and then concludes most smartly, thus you see, you know not what Faith is; For this is it you called Faith. A most profound Disputer, I protest. At the next Sale of Philosophers 
b He pretends to be one, p. 246. ; when you hear them cried about the Street, I pray inquire after the price of him. It is possible some may venture to give three farthings for him; especially when they hear with what excellent qualities he is endued. For be it known to all, he hath the best skill of any man I know, in 〈◊〉 king Galamaufry's and Hotchpotches; 〈◊〉 larding of English with bits of Lati●● and in making of slaps and sauces 〈◊〉 discourses. He is furnished with a wh●●● shopful of shreds, a Magazine of Ta●● and may set up an Office for Apologies which he hath at his finger's end, 〈◊〉 your fault what it will. He can shuffle, 〈◊〉 wrangle, and scold; all these in persection. And besides, he hath a bo●● face, and can lie at no aim; and 〈◊〉 you should chance to lose him, yo● may know him from all the men in th● world by certain Marks he hath abo●● him. For where you find a man at a●● turns, putting you off with, it may be●● it is said, for any thing I know, all, 〈◊〉 some, and such like words which I before noted, lay hold of him, that's the man. Besides, he hath either robbe● another, or else you may know him by the Ordeal and Plowshares, Pelion and Ossa, the Pomp's, and the indelible Character.  N C. 
I cannot imagine what you mean.  C. 
They that have read a Book about the Rebuilding of London know well enough. For there 
c P. 178. 217, 332, 335.  they meet with all these, just as we do here in this: by which you may know that he hath such a set of words and phrases as will be sure to discover him. And now I speak of Pomp's, you shall give me leave to show you what a vain pretence this Ignorant man m●kes to Learning. The ancient Christians he tells you 
d P. 179. of Sober Answer.  having found the great inconvenience of Stage Plays, and increase of wickedness by them, p●r a word on purpose into the Baptismal vow to deter people from going to them, and that is the Pomp's of this World. For some Glossaries say, that stageplays were formerly called Pomps, if you will believe Bishop Usher, whom, saith he, I have some where found quoted for this. And so have I; in the Book about the Rebuilding of London 
e P. 217. , where the Author saith Positively, Bishop Usher hath observed that the Ancients inserted a passage against Ssage-plays in the Baptismal vow, viz. That we should renounce the Pomp's of the world: now Pomps (said he) did of old signify stageplays. But where the Bishop hath observed it, or said it, he tells us not; so that in effect he quotes his own Authority, when he tells us here, I have found him somewhere quoted: and draws this conclusion out of his own imagination, that though we allow Play● in a due measure, yet the old Christr●ans did not, but obliged those that were baptised to renounce them.  N. C. 
And what say you to it?  C. 
I have told you, he speaks out a of his own idle head, and there is not a word of Truth in what he says. For Pomps never signified any such Plays as ours.  N. C. 
Will you not take Bishop Usker's word?  C. 
I will see it first, and have it under his hand: for I cannot trust this vain talker, who doth not understand, I plainly see, what he reads. To pretend to know all that Bishop Usher ever writ, or said, would be vanity in me: but I will not believe it, till I have better authority than his, that he ever gave this sense of the word Pomp. Some Plays, or rather Games and Public Sights 
f We render Ludi by the word Plays, but we should rather say, Shows or Common Sights made for the people's entertainment, and consecrated to some Deity: called Spectacula. , he, or any body else might say were by a figure called Pomps: but the Ancients distinguished them; and to speak exactly, we must say, that the Pomp's of the World were not those things which the Romans called Ludi, and Spectacula, which we should render Sports, Sights, or Games; but that stately Procession which was made before one of them. For Pomp, you mustknow, is in its first signification nothing else but the sending of something; and the carrying it also from one place to another 
g Thence Mercury was called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, because he carried down and transmitted souls to Hades. , more particularly, the carrying something to be shown and exposed to public view, through the Streets. But the word most properly belonged to that splendid and magnificent Procession (as I may call it) which went before the Races and Combats in the Roman Circus, which were the most famous sports among them. So Tertullian assures us 
h Circensium paulo pompatior suggestus, quibus peopriè hoc nomen pompa, praecedit, etc. ; who likewise informs us more particularly of what that Pomp consisted. In the first place there was a long row of the Images of their Gods publicly exposed and carried in the S●reet; then of the Images of men of Noble Families, at whose charges those Sports were made; then followed a great number of Chariots and Wagons of divers sorts (which have much troubled the brains of Critics), than the Seats or Thrones of their Gods, than their Crowns, and their Robes and Ornaments; together with all the Sacrifices which were to be offered, and all the Sacred implements belonging to them. After which came their Colleges of Augurs, their Priests, and their Civil Officers. This, in short, was the Pomp, as every body knows who hath read his Book De Spectaculis, chap. 7. Where he tells us, that this was the principal part of the old Idolatry, there being such a great number of their Gods (too many for me now to mention) carried in this great and solemn Procession at Rome: Which was the reason, I conceive, that it was imitated in the Provinces distant from the City. Where though it was performed with less care and solemnity, as he tells us, yet that did not make the crime less to accompany it. For wheresoever the Pomp of the Circus was (these are his words) though there be but a few Images carried about, there is Idolatry in one. And though there be but one Chariot drawn, it is Jupiter's wane. Let the Idolatry be set out sordidly, or in a better garb, it makes no difference, for all is upon the account of the same crime. All this considered, I take these, till I am better informed, to be the Pomp's renounced in Baptism; which Christians were by no means to attend and go along with, or, as Apuleius 
i Continuare pompam. L. 11 Metamorph. p. 242. Edit. 1650.  speaks, to continue the Pomp. For it was to do an honour to false Gods, and being present at these, they might be in danger to be enticed to downright Idolatry by the bravery and magnificence of the show: which was so great, that all splendid and stately things, whether in speeches or actions, have been since called by the name of Pompous. I know there was a Pomp at their Triumphs, and at great Funerals 
k See Pricaeus in l. 2. Apuleil Metam. p. 120.  and other times, but these which I have named were the Pomp's which Believers promised to forsake. And I find it objected to them as a crime by Caecilius a Heathen, in the Dialogue of Minutius Faelix, (who follows Tertullian in his very words) that they abstained from honest Pleasures (as he called them) not enduring to see their Spectaeles, nor to be present at their Pomp's 
l Non spectacula vi● sitis, non Pompis interestis. p. 15. Edit. Heraldi, 1613. where Rigaltius notes how ancient this form of Renunciation was. . To which he replies in the end of his Book, we abstain from unlawful pleasures, your Pomp's and Spectacles, whose original we both know to have been from your Religion, and whose hurtful enticements we condemn 
m Quorum & de Sacris originem novimus, etc. p. 54. . And immediately he instance; (as if they were the principal entertainments to ensnare them) in the madness of the People at the Circensian Sports 
n For those he understands by Ludicarales. . These were so inviting, that, notwithstanding their Renunciation, we understand by St. Cyprian, (who transcribes a great deal of Minutius) some Christians not only went to these public Spectacles, but also pleaded for their so doing; saying, Where do we find them prohibited? What place of Scripture speaks against them? nay, Is not Helias called the Chariots of Israel, & c? and did not David dance before the Ark? and do we not read of Psalteries, Timbrels and Harps, & c? The Apostle also speaking of our Spiritual Combat, borrows examples from the wrestle, and races, etc. which are at these Spectacles. Why may not one of the faithful therefore, behold that which those Holy men might write? Thus they laboured (as you do now in other cases) with words and phrases of Scripture to defend their dangerous practice. To whom he replies, among other things, Helias being the Chariot of Israel, is no argument that you may go to behold the Circensianraces, for he never ran in any Circus 
o L. de spectac. . And, at last, to strike all dead, he tells them, the Scripture prohibited all these Spectacles when it took away all Idolatry, the Mother of all their public sports 
p Omnium ludorum Matrem. ; from whence all these Monsters of vanity 
q That is a word he uses more th●n once, for these spectacles which is joined with Pomp in the Baptismal vow.  and levity came. For what spectacle is there without an Idol? What show without a Sacrifice? what public combat that is not consecrated to the dead? What should a Faithful Christian do among these? etc. Let him know that they are all the inventions of Damon's, and not of God. And then as he had done before (speaking of Helias) so he again mentions the Circensian spectacles; and tells us they were the eldest of all, being consecrated by Romulus himself to Consus, the God of Counsel, for helping him to take away the Sabinian Virgins. He that would more fully understand how apt these Pomp's might be to enchant vulgar minds, and consequently how necessary it was the sight of them should be prohibited to Christian people, may read the rare description which Apuleius (in his Milesian Tales 
r L. XI. pag. 243, 244, etc. ) hath left us of the great Pomps 
s Anteludia magnae Pompae.  wherein the Mother of the Gods was carried, together with all the chief Ornaments of the most powerful Deities 
t Potentissimo●um Deorum exuvias. , and the fine Sights which went before it. Nothing was so grateful to the people as this; because they could please their Gods, they thought, and themselves both together. The Pomp being so contrived, that it was a mixture of Devo● on and Mirth; and the works of the most stately Religion 
u Opera●● magnificae Religionis.  were presented to them among cheerful Ceremonies, and merry Spectacles 
x Inter hilares Ceremonias, & festiva spectacula, etc. p. 242. .  N. C. 
I am sorry these Pomp's came in our way, for they have diverted us too long from that which we were speaking of. viz. Faith in Christ. Hath he not made it plain you have abused us, in saying, we take Faith to be no more than a relying on Christ for the forgiveness of sins? p. 67.  C. 
No. He hath neither made that, not any thing else plain; unless it be his own Ignorance, or something worse. I have abused no body; but the poor people miserably abuse themselves (by the means of such men as he) who are generally of that persuasion.  N. C. 
But they were taught other ways (as he tells you) by the Assembly, who say, that Faith in Jesus Christ is a saving grace, whereby we receive and rest upon him alone for Salvation, as he is offered to us in the Gospel, that is, as Prephet, Priest, and King 
y Sober Answer, p. 67. .  C. 
I remember the greatest part of these words are in the shorter Catechism: but, Why did he not tell us so? and who gave him Authority to add those words in the conclusion, that is, as Priest, Prophet and King? I am sure they are not there?  N. C. 
That's a small matter, The Assembly themselves warrant that addition, who explain their meaning, (he tells you) by quoting for it, Isa. 33.22. The Lord is our Judge, our Lawgiver, our King, and he will save us.  C. 
I cannot tell whether I should stand amazed at the Ignorance, or the impudence and falseness of this (Writer, I cannot call him, but) Scribbler.  N. C. 
Why? what's the matter now?  C. 
The Assembly quote no such place as that which he mentions, but expound their meaning, by referring us to another Text in the same Prophet, Isa. 26.3.4. where there is mention only of trusting in the Lord. Will you never leave this Trade of cheating, by adding and taking away from Books, according to your humour and fancy? To what will those men's impudence arrive hereafter; who, while things are fresh in memory, are so bold as to take this Licence?  N. C. 
Why should not I believe him as soon as you?  C. 
Believe neither of us. But go and search yourself the eldest and most Authentic editions, printed either here in England, or by the approbation and the Act of the General Assembly in Scotland, and you shall meet with no such Scripture as this which he thrusts upon us: nor any at all out of the old Testament, but only that which I have mentioned. Isa. 26.3.4. I have seen several, which I shall not stand particularly to name 
* the first of those was 1649. which citys the place now named. . There is none I suppose can be of greater credit with you, than that set forth 
z in quarto 1658. , together with the larger Catechism and confession of Faith: recommended with a solemn preface by a great many Ministers, and this Gentleman among the rest, to the use of private Families. This gives you the places of Scripture in words at length, but this which he quotes is not to be met withal among them. Nor is it in a late Edition of the shorter Catechism 1667. printed after the same manner.  N. C. 
Do you think he put it in out of his own head?  C. 
I know not what to think. But a man that had a list to imitate his vile way of writing might say, it is possible, for some reason that is suggested, that he was accessary to the fraud.  N. C. 
Fie upon it. Do not leave it to us, to imagine reasons.  C. 
But he doth 
a p. 82. , as you shall hear, when he talks of my being no enemy to Sacrilege, after this very fashion.  N. C. 
And will you follow him in such wicked courses?  C. 
No. I only told you what a man might do who studied to pay him in his own coin. And to deal more fairly with him than he deserved, he might add this reason for his Conjecture. I met a good while ago with one edition of that Shorter Catech. Printed by A. Maxwel 1660. into which some body hath foisted this place of Scripture which he mentions, in the room of the other which the Assembly affixed to their definition. Now how he came to be best acquainted with this Edition, or prefer it before all others (even that large one with his own hand to it) one cannot well conceive, might a man say, unless it be for the same reason that people love their own Children better than any else. But for a this I conclude nothing. Let me only ask, which way you will conclude in this case? Did he know there was this Alteration made in the texts of Scripture, and that this which he quotes was not in the Edition to which he hath given his Approbation under his hand; or did he not? If not, than he is not so well skilled in your Divines as he pretends, nor fit to talk of these matters; he is a stranger to his Catechism, and recommends that to the people's remembrance, which he forgets himself. If he did know; then I ask how he durst tell us this in the name of the Assembly, and say they prove their proposition by this place, when his Conscience told him they did not? Is it not an high degree of wickedness to countenance, or endeavour to continue such a fraud? May not all your party justly buffet him, for abusing the Assembly and making them write that which they never meant? For he expressly tells us, they quote this place, Isa. 33.22. which, as it is nothing to the purpose, so was not chosen by them to back their doctrine withal.  N. C. 
It was some mistake, you may be sure.  C. 
Not in him that put out that Edition, whoever he was; for he industriously changed the Scriptures, to bend their words to his own sense.  N. C. 
I think the Title page of that Edition tells you, that the proofs in words at length, are either some of the formerly quoted places, or others gathered from the Assemblies other writings.  C. 
It's well observed; for it is a confession of a change, according to another man's judgement and not their own. And this Phil. if he had been the man he would be taken for, would have carefully noted. And since he was speaking of the Assemblies opinion he ought not to have alleged any proofs of it, but those which they quoted themselves for it; especially considering that he wholly relies on that place of Scripture to show their sense. As for him who made the Alteration, he did not deal sincerely and as became an upright man. For where shall we find this new proof in their other writings? They never wrote any thing else about these matters but the larger Catechism and the Confession of Faith, and there is no such Scripture alleged in either of those when they speak of this business. And now I mention the larger Catechism again, of which the lester is an abridgement; one would think it had been more fit for him to fetch the explication of their words and take their meaning from thence, rather than from the corrupt glosses put upon the shorter. For they could better express their own mind themselves, than any of their Disciples. Now if you go thither, you shall find they determine faith to the promises as its object, and make it a resting on Christ and his righteousness for pardon of sin and accepting our persons, without any mention of any respect to him as a Prophet or King. Let us read the words. Justifying Faith is a saving grace wrought in the heart of a sinner by the Spirit and word of God, whereby being convinced of Sin and misery, etc. he not only assents to the truth of the promise of the Gospel, but receives and rests upon Christ and his righteousness therein held forth, for pardon of sin, and for the accepting and accounting of his person righteous in the sight of God for Salvation. Judge now whether I wronged you in that which I said concerning Faith, which it is plain you have been taught to think is nothing else in effect but this, to rely upon Christ for forgiveness of sins. And should your Child ask you the meaning of those words in the shorter Catechism, and say, How is Christ held forth or offered to us in the Gospel? I pray tell me what Answer you would return. Would not you, who are exhorted to read those Books and instruct your Family out of them, reply to him in this manner? Child, the larger Catechism, which you must learn next, informs you, that he is held forth as our righteousness, and so you must receive him and rest on him for pardon and accepting of your person as righteous, according to the promise of the Gospel.  N. C. 
I think I should teach them in that manner. But I remember withal that in their Confession of Faith. chap. 14. they tell us something else, viz. that the Principal Acts of saving Faith are receiving and resting on Christ alone for Justification, Sanctification, and eternal life by virtue of the Covenant of Grace.  C. 
True. But you know that this is not so much read as the other, and is more fitted for Divines than you; not are any of you wont to read it, till you have the former persuasion rooted in your hearts. Besides, they do not speak here of Faith as justifying, but of the principal acts of saving Faith: and you know they use to make a difference between these two. They put also relying on him for Justification in the first place: and more than that, in the eleventh Chapter, which is concerning Justification, they tell you, that Faith receiving and resting on Christ and his Righteousness is the alone Instrument of Justification. And therefore the common opinion is, that it Justifies as it hath a respect to the blood of Christ and his Righteousness. But I have a more mighty Argument to prove that this is the Orthodox sense of that Assembly, which is from the Parliament itself. Who in their Ordinance of Octob. 20. 1645. giving Rules and Directions concerning Suspension from the Sacrament of the Lords Supper, in case of Ignorance or Scandal, deliver this Definition of Faith which a Communicant is to be instructed in, It is a grace whereby we believe and trust in Christ for remission of sin and life everlasting, according to the promise of the Gospel 
b And that you know is to those who believe. . And by this Faith alone, he is to know, Christ and his benefits are applied. This is the more to be observed, because they made this Ordinance, considering the Wonderful Providence of God, in calling them to the great and difficult work of reforming and purging his Church and People, as you read in the Preface; and because this definition is again repeated in the Form of Church Government, to be used in the Church of England and Ireland, after advice had with the Assembly of Divines 
c Aug. 29. 1648. p. 29. .  N. C. 
You pack a great many things together, which I had forgotten—  C. 
You may see by that, I have studied your Catechism as well as ours, though I have not told you my name. By which he may know, that I am old enough to show, if I pleased, how deeply Antinomianism is rooted in your people's hearts, notwithstanding all that Mr. Baxter, and others, have done to pluck it up. For such men as he who talk rawly and negligently of Divine things, help to maintain and support it. Nor do I see any reason to alter my opinion, that many of you are Antinomians, and do not know it; just as I told you the last time 
d Continuation of the Fr. Deb. p. 87. . that you are wont to rail very often (like this Hotspur of yours) even when you say you aborr it.  N. C. 
I abhor those reflections you made upon what was done and said by some men in the late times, and I think he hath Schooled you to purpose for it. Are you not sensible how oft you broke his Majesty's gracious Act of Pardon? And will you think yourself a fit reprover of others for the breach of his Laws, when you do not observe the chiefest and most beloved of them, yourself?  C. 
I must confess, that this man hath more of a Pedant in him, than any one I know, and very magisterially stands over me with Rod in hand. And when he hath laid on as many lashes as he could, than he takes breath, and says, Now Sir, go on with your Lesson, and please you 
e P. 123. — And so I will; a great deal further than he ever expected to hear. And I have such a Lesso● now for him, as will make him give over the Trade of Schooling, if he have any wit in his head, till he be better learned.  N. C. 
Speak out then.  C. 
You need not fear it: for I stand in no awe of his correction. I rather pity him, when I think what a taking he will be in; after he finds that Indemnity will do him no more service, than to say, In Speech, beware your Br— This you must know is the Cuckoo Song, which we hear over and over, till we are tired with it, Indemnity, Indemnity, Indemnity. It is ten times at least repeated in his Preface, and I have not leisure to tell how many times in the Book. And yet for all this, we m●st be so civil, as to believe that he is not in love with Tautologies 
f P. 230. being not in love with tautologies, I shall, etc. . No, by no means. Though his whole Preface be little else but his Letter turned into an Epistle 
g Although my whole Book be nothing but a Letter to you, yet I shall add an Epistle, etc. , (if you know the difference) a vain repetition of the same things, and ofttimes in the very same words: yet we must rather suspect our own blockishness than his love of Tautology to be the reason of it. He is no Parrot he would have you know 
h Though he tells us very often of the Parrot, N. C. pag. 168, 266, 286. , that hath but a few things to prattle, and says them often over: He hath the act of Indemnity to talk of, and then the Act of Oblivion; then the Act of Oblivion, and after that the Act of Indemnity; and then Indemnity again, and so forward, etc. which calls to mind (I cannot help it) the story of Scarpaccia (which we find in a certain Italian Hospital, not now to be named) who had a conceit that he was King of Cuckoos; and so to every one that spoke to him good or bad, he would always answer with great readiness, Cuckoo, Cuckoo, Cuckoo. And being demanded why he answered not to the purpose? he replied again, I am King Cuckoo, Cuckoo, Cuckoo.  N. C. 
Methinks you are beside your Book.  C. 
Not at all. Look into his Preface, p. 7. and there he tells you, I have laid the axe to the root of the Act of Indemnity. Turn over a new leaf, and you take him at it again, p. 8. those Pioners (the two Debates) have been undermining that great wall of defence, viz. the Act of Indemnity. And he hath not done with it yet, I knock, he saith, s● hard upon the Act of Indemnity, p. 10. Once more, p. 11. I make nothing, he tells you, of the Act of Indemnity; having razed the foundation (as it is in his Book 249) of the Act of Indemnity. He thinks sure, we have little to do, but are as idle as the boys in the Street, who gather about a Parrot to hear it talk: Otherwise he would not have troubled us with such a Pen-and-Inkhorn Preface, consisting of two and forty pages; when he had so little new to add.  N. C. 
He tells you 
i Preface, pag. 1. , that he thought letter upon letter might be as necessary as precept upon precept, line upon line, twice over, which are the Prophet's words, Isa. 28.10.  C. 
He profanes the Holy Scripture throughout his whole Book, by using its words on every common and trivial occasion. But let him repeat it a thousand times, till he hath made his own head ache as well as his Readers; I shall remain as innocent, and you as guilty as before; only he himsef will appear more boldly Ignorant. For he is like those men who writ of Countries they never saw, who commonly tell a great many tales. I have great cause to be confident that he never read this Act seriously about which he talks so much, but only poured a flood of words with a great noise out of his own unfurnished brains. With these he hoped to make his credulous Readers, like those who live near the falls of Nilus, deaf to any other Information, though never so certain.  N. C. 
You cannot think him so bold, as to charge you with breaking an Act, the matter of which he did not understand.  C. 
Then he is a dishonest man, if having read it and understood it, he would not confess the truth, which is this. Within two or three days after his Majesty's return, he desired the Parliament which then sat, speedily to dispatch an Act of Indemnity which he had promised. After it had passed the Commons, he went to the Peers 
k Speech in House of Peers, July 27. 1660. , and expressed his impatient desire to have this Act presented to him for his Royal assent. Accordingly upon Aug. 29. 1660. this Act was passed, as an Act of free and General Pardon, Indemnity and Oblivion. And in the Preface to it, these two intents and purposes of it are expressed. First, that no crime committed against his Majesty, or his Royal Father, shall hereafter rise in Judgement, or be brought in Question against any one to the least indamagement of them, etc. Secondly, To bury all Seeds of future discords, and remembrances of the former. Accordingly the Former part of the Act is for Indemnity, and provides for men's safety by acquitting, releasing and discharging all persons from all crimes (save those excepted afterward) committed from Jan. 1. 1637. till June 24. 1660. And then the other part (which concerns our present-business) is for Oblivion, in these words, To the intent and purpose, that all Names and terms of distinction may be likewise put in utter Oblivion, be it enacted, that if any person, or persons, within the space of three years next ensuing, shall presume maliciously to call or allege 
* The particle Of is to be left out as appears by the Chancellors Speech made afward, where he recites these words.  of, or object against any other person or persons, any name or names, or other words of reproach, any way tending to revive the memory of the late differences, or occasions thereof, that every such person, so as aforesaid offending, shall forfeit and pay unto the party grieved, if he be a Gentleman, ten pound, etc. This clause the Lord Chancellor at their adjournment, Sept. 13. 1660. commended in his Majesty's Name to their and all men's remembrance. Now mark the Ignorance and the Malice of this Philagathus, as he falssly styles himself: His bold Ignorance, in that he would have the world believe I have violated, nay, horribly violated 
l Pag. 7. of the Preface.  this Law as it is an Act of Indemnity (for in that stile he speaks) when I have not so much a● a power to punish any man, though he were not acquitted and discharged. His malice, in persuading you, that it is the drift of my Book to provoke the Magistrates to break it in pieces in their anger, as Moses did the Tables of Stone 
m Ib. p. 6. : when it hath no design in those passages which have so nettled him, but either to show, that they act not according to their declared Principles in times past, or that they have not so behaved themselves as to deserve the name of the only or most knowing and godly people, which they commonly assume to themselves: In which I will show you by and by, how they break this, as well as other of his Majesty's Laws. But first let us mark again, how rashly and impudently he charges me with the breach of this Law, as it is an Act of Oblivion, (which must be distinguished from the other, though they He confused, as all things else, in his head:) and how he manifestly discovers he never read it, or with no care to understand it. The Act saith, we shall not object against any person, any name or names, or other words of reproach under such a penalty. But this man saith with a bold face, it is expressly provided in the Act of Indemnity, that the crimes therein mentioned as forgiven, should no more be objected to any man under a certain penalty, p. 249. The same he saith in another place 
n Pag. 88 , without any stick; and that those old things must never more, according to that Act, be so much as rehearsed 
o P. 142. ; which is less than objected. And more than this, he affirms, that we may not so much as speak of any Ordinance of Parliament which was formerly made 
p P. 254. ; and therefore, like a man of an exceeding nice and tender Conscience, he dares not so much as seem to know, or remember, that ever there were any such Ordinances 
q These are his very words.  as I mention. A special way to Answer me, by saying nay, by knowing just Nothing. But judge now of the modesty and sincerity of this man, who makes bold (as he speaks) to take me to task for the breach of a Law, whose words he never recites, nay always puts other words of his own making in the room of them. And judge of his discretion and understanding, Who can let it enter into his thoughts, that the Law prohibits us so much as to remember what was done in the late Times? Suppose we hear them call us shortly, the old and the implacable Enemy, must we not so much as seem to call to mind that this was the stile of those days? If they begin to talk of the Holy cause, and the Good old cause, must we, according to this new Doctor, seal up our lips, and make as if we never heard of such a thing before? What? may we not so much as write a true History of what is past? This is the thing, no doubt, they would be at. We must forget, as I told you at our last meeting 
r Contin. of the Debate, p. 66. ; all that is past, and now believe you cannot err, nay, were always innocent. This will be a fine way to keep posterity in Ignorance, that you may do the like again, and never be suspected, till it be too late to prevent it. A most admirable contrivance (for which he will be well rewarded, if he can make it good) to turn us into mere fools, by dispossessing ●s of our Reason, together with our Passions. Then you may do what you will with us, and the Nation shall deserve to be your slaves, if after they have been rob of so many precious things, they suffer you to despoil them of their Memories, and deprive them of the benefit of their dear bought experience. But be serious, I beseech you: if all that hath been done, writ, or spoken, must be buried in perpetual Oblivion, How durst the King's Prime Physician 
s Dr Bates his Elench. Motuum nuperorum in Anglia.  Dedicate and present to his Majesty himself (and that not long after this Act was past, and yet fresh in memory) an Account, and smart Reproof of the late Commotions in England? In which he lays open the base Arts, the Fraud, Cruelty, Hypocrisy, breach of Faith, Ambition, Covetousuess and Pride, which were then so rife among you. Why was this Book licenced by one of the Secretaries of State 
t Sir Will. Morice, April 6. 1663. ? And why did not this busy Philagathus, who dedicated part of a Book to that Physician, with some others 
u Physical Contempl. on Fire, etc. 1667. ; twitch him a little, and whisper this in his ear; Good Sir, Parden me I beseech you, you are my great Friend, but you have horribly violated the Act of Indemnity? Why did he not in his great zeal, at least, inform him of this, that he had wronged that great Saint in the Army, whom here he so much commends 
x P. 152. of Sober Answer. , but the Doctor saith, was a wily man 
y Elench. pars prima, p. 76. , attended to his own private profit, and betraying the Presbyterians to serve himself?  N. C. 
Pray let such things pass without further Reflection.  C. 
I would not so much as have mentioned this, if it had not been to show either how Ignorant this man is, who knows none of these matters, and yet will be a Writer of Books; or how full of hypocrisy, who pretends his Spirit was so moved, that he could not but buffet me for the wrongs I have done them, and yet can flatter another who hath dealt more severely with them.  N. C. 
Show yourself merciful too, and say no more of this to him.  C. 
The greatest kindness I can do him, is to show him, if it be possible, that he is not the man he takes himself for. If he will not be convinced; yet do you blush to think, that any one among you should write thus idly, while others speak and act such things as will call what is passed to our mind, (unless you knock out our brains) whether we will or no. We must think a Spade to be a Spade; and, if need be, call it so. The things stand upon record in the Books as yet unburnt, which you would have us forget. Many of those, out of which I quoted some passages, are still in your houses. Why should we blot the images of things out of our memories, which are stamped in Paper not yet blotted, nor ●orn in pieces? or, Why should we sorbear to mention, that which you do not forbear to read? When Queen Elizabeth put out her Injunction, that her Subjects should not call one another Heretics or Schismatics, it was not sufficient for a guilty man to say to him that convinced him of Schism, and called him Schismatic, you regard not her Majesty's pleasure, you make nothing of her commands: No, when some troublesome persons pleaded this, I find the Answer was 
z Sutcliffs Answer to a certain Libel, Supplic. 1592. p. 131. , that the Queen's Injunctions did not protect factious Mates, but good and quiet Subjects, such as you will not show yourselves to be. That's my Answer now; keep the Laws, and, by my consent, you shall never hear of your breaking them heretofore. Be more humble and modest, and we will never remember you of your Pride. Do not talk as if you were infallible, and knew all Gods Secrets, and we will not tell the people how you have abused them—  N.C. 
Not talk any more, I hope, of the Act of Indemnity.  C. 
Stay a while. I have not said all my lesson; but the hardest part is still to come. For suppose, my good Neighbour, that the words of the Act had been as he affirms, that we must not mention any crime, or any thing that was ever done; which you see is not true. To what purpose doth he tell me of it, unless he first prove that it is but three years since, June 24. 1660? If he can do this, he will be as great a man as he thinks himself: otherwise, he is an impudent reviler, in proclaiming me so often, and so loudly, a most high and grievous offender against a Law which is out of date; and which, if it were in force, I had no way broke. And yet, now that I bethink myself, he must prove that it will never be more than three years since 1660. otherwise, he is a shameless Liar, in saying the Act requires, that their crimes should be no more objected, and never more rehearsed, as you have heard. And after he hath overcome this difficulty (as he hath a strange faculty in stretching) there is another still to conquer; and that is to prove, that I wrote Maliciously; else the former Herculean labour will do him no service. For if I wrote not to satisfy any passion, much less revenge; nor to do any man any mischief, (as I protest I did not) but only to prevent such calamities as we have already suffered, to benefit posterity, to reform those who are still top full of the old ill humours, to humble those that break the Laws, and to undeceive the simple; than it was always lawful, even during those three years, to remember you of what was past, and now it is become necessary. To conclude this, there is another labour to be undergone after all these (though they are enough, one would think, to make his heart ache) and that is to contradict himself, who is so far from accusing me of Malice, that he is persuaded I was rather carried about by others more choleric, than by myself with so rapid a motion 
a Preface, p. 39 , as he thinks I have been. And more than that, he resolves by the help of God, not to judge me at all 
b P. 276. ; for which there is very good reason, if you mark what follows in these words; yea, I think I have judged you as little as any man under my Circumstances, if at all. Since he knows so little of himself, yea, of his own Book, that he cannot tell certainly whether he hath done a thing or no, he ought not to think, that he knows much or others, and to be very careful how he judges. And if he will hold that good resolution, or stand to what he hath confessed, than he hath thrown all his words against me into the wind; which come flying back into his own face, charging him if not with spite, yet with ignorance, headiness, and unexcusable Folly.  N.C. 
But you may for all this have offended against the intention of the Act, for his Majesty declared that he desired all names and terms of distinction should be put into utter Oblivion.  C. 
It is well observed. All names and terms of distinction, but he doth not say all things that were done should never be called to mind; especially when you revive the memory of them in spite of our hearts. But I can tell you more, if it will do you any good, His Majesty desired there might no note of distinction remain; and it was his end in forbidding us for three years to call men by any name, or names or other words of reproach, that all Differences might be forgotten. But you would needs keep up notes of distinction and so still continued our Differences.  N. C. 
Pray be more moderate in your assertions.  C. 
I cannot abate a word of what I say. For his Majesty told you in another place, what would be the best way to make us one, and the best instance you could give of declining all mark● of distinction (i.e. an effectual means of putting former things into Oblivion, which you are now so desirous of) and he entreated you also to make use of it; but you would not comply with his desires, and by that means kept alive our difference.  N. C. 
I remember no such thing.  C. 
Be not angry with those that do. I remember very well, that in his declaration 
c Pag. 14.  concerning Ecclesiastical Affairs he hearty wished and desired, that because of dislike to some clauses and expressions in the Common Prayer, you would not totally lay aside the use of it, but read that part against which there could be no exception: which would be (mark his words) the best instance of declining those marks of distinction which we so much labour and desire to remove: now how many do you think there were, who took this healing course, though they make such a stir now about the burying of Differences? Were you not mighty careful to take away marks of distinction, when that very thing, which, in his Majesty's judgement, would be so apt to remove them, was so little regarded? And how did you endeavour then to take away all remembrances of things past i e. to fulfil the intent of the Act of Oblivion, when you would not remove this great note of distinction, which had been made? And yet I find 
d Petition for peace, etc.  not long after this, that some of you desired the Bishops to lay by all former and present exasperations and alienating differences; as if they were bound to comply with the end of the Law, but not you yourselves. But I have not done with you yet.  N. C. 
I wish you had; for here's enough.  C. 
No. I will quite stop his mouth, if I can. The Chancellor by the Kings command told us 
e Speech at the Adjournment of the Par. 13. Sept. 1660. p. 15.  what kind of names and terms of distinction were to be put into Oblivion, and desired that no body would find new names and terms to keep up the same or a worse distinction. If the old reproaches, saith he, of Cavalier, and Round-head and Malignant are committed to the Grave; let us not find more significant and better words, to signify worse things. How well you have observed this exhortation we all know, who call yourselves the Godly, the People of God, the Saints, the Christians; as if we were the wicked, the enemies of God's people and no better than Pagans. These are marks of distinction with a witness, against which his Majesty there gave you, by him, a particular caution. And I can mention many other affected cognisances and differences, to use my L. Bacon's words, whereby you seek to correspond among yourselves and to differ from others, which is directly contrary to the design of that clause in the Act of Oblivion.  N.C. 
Pray forget them for once, if it be but to avoid tediousness.  C. 
Observe then only this, which will show you the impertinence of your prating Philag. that he reflects very sharply in that speech upon some things past and gone, and tells them that there were still certain persons who infused jealousies into the people's hearts, and studied to alienate their affections, by talking of introducing Popery, and of evil Councillors, and such other old Calumnies: which it seems by this, it was lawful to put them in mind of, even within a few days after these crimes were pardoned. He expressly recites also, some of the usual talk 
f Speech at their dissolution Dec. 29. 1660. p. 19  in the late times whereby the people were deceived (as that God would never restore a Family with which he had such a Controversy, etc.) and remembers them how the Church had been buried many years by the boisterous hands of profane and Sacrilegious Persons under its own rubbish 
g Ib. p. 20. : and that a deep deluge of sacrilege, profaneness, and impiety had covered it and to common understanding swallowed it up, though now it appeared again above the waters 
h Ib p. 21. . And the next year at the opening of the new Parliament 
i May 8. 1661. , he lets them know that some, instead of repenting any thing they had done, repeated the same crimes; particularly, some seditious Preachers reproached the Laws established, repeated the very expressions, and taught the very Doctrines, they set on foot 1640. Now what says your Graculo to all this? what a pity is it, that he was not sent for to advise withal when he penned this speech? He would have told him when he came to these words. Hold my Lord; Not a word of what hath been done since 1637. You must not repeat the Doctrines or expressions then in use, though others do. It is against the Act of Indemnity, which you violated too much the last year. For we must not so much as seem to know, or remember that any such things ever were, as Sacrilege, profaneness, impiety and rapine 
k That's also mentioned in his speech. . These old things must never more be rehearsed.  
Thus this man hath in effect tutored and schooled him, and by consequence his Majesty himself; who by his mouth, as he would persuade us, hath spoken against his own gracious Act of Indemnity. But will you please to hear what the King himself spoke in person at that time 
l Speech at the opening of the Part. P. 5. ; for it is very considerable. After he had told them how much the Act of Indemnity secured the happiness of the Nation, he desired them in God's name notwithstanding to provide a full remedy for any further mischief, and to pull up those old principles, which might make new offenders, by the very roots. It seems than they are not to be forgotten, though they be pardoned. We may think that it is possible; they only ye hid and do not appear, but are not ●et extirpated out of men's hearts. And herefore it is lawful to go about that ●ork; which cannot be done unless we ●●st discover them, and then show the rottenness of them, and let the people see how much they have been cheated by them. I could add a great deal more out of other Papers, but I think it time to make an end; having sufficiently shown that all that this man and his partakers talk about these matters, is only smoke and vapour, which will not abide the touch; and that they deal with the Act of Oblivion as they do with the Divine Writings. If they get a word by the end; they make a great noise and cannot tell when to have done with it, never minding the sense. At they cry Free grace, and the Covenant 〈◊〉 grace, the Covenant of Grace, so they cry the Act of Oblivion, the Act of Oblivion. But look into either of them, and consider them well, and you will find they are no such thing, as th●● which they mean by them.  N. C. 
Let the world judge between you: For I will meddle no further i● this matter.  C. 
It is the greatest favour I would desire of you all, that you would i● down calmly, and after both sides heard, indifferently judge between us. You would soon see, I make no doubt, that his Book, and not that which 
m As he pretends p. 26 of the preface.  he writes against, is a fiery invective. But the mischief of it is, that many of you will never read what we writ. You will only hear of one ear, and believe what a man of your party says, and then all', your own. For which Partiality if you judge not yourselves, God will. Among those also who will read our writings, there are so few I doubt that consider, or that are able to make a trial and discern when a cause is well maintained, and when not (as Mr. Baxter 
n Preface to his Confession of Faith.  speaks) that he who will confidently pour out words, how far soever he digress from the Truth or mark, is as soon believed as he that gives the soundest reason. But then let such a man pretend zeal for Religion, (which is the cause of all this stir) let him bawl and cry aloud and say his Adversary is an enemy to it, or hath laid a train to blow it up; and that He is come forth with great hazard to himself to prevent that mischief, and shall be a Martyr if he die in the quarrel 
o As that man tells us p. 26 of the pref. . He will be sure to be admired and held in great Veneration by the Ignorant people. When he hath once filled their ears with the sound of these things, his work is done to purpose; and it will be hard to get a word we have to say, to enter into them. Especially, if the man, who hath engaged the affections of unwary Souls in this manner, join a show of Mortification, contempt of the World, dislike and hatred of all sin, together with his zeal for the cause of God and Godliness. When they see men go simply in the Streets (saith the Bishop 
p Speech at Lisnegarvy. , I named the last time) and bow down their heads like a Bulrush, wring their necks awry, shaking their heads, as though they were in some present grief, etc. when they hear them give great groans, and cry out against this and that sin, (not in their own hearers, but in others, especially their Superiors) and finally make long Prayers: when, I say, the multitude hear and see such kind of men, they are by and by carried away with a marvellous great conceit and opinion of them: And with such shows have many Pharasaical Teachers drawn the multitude after them, who have not their senses exercised to discern between good and evil; but judge only by the outward appearance.  N. C. 
God send you and me a right judgement in all things.  C. 
We must not only pray, but labour for it; by subduing our Passions, and laying aside all Prejudices, so that we may with indifferent and equal minds consider and try all things; and be inclined by nothing but truth.  N. C. 
It is a hard matter to keep ourselves from being biased by something or other. And the goodness of any man is apt, I confess, not only to draw and incline my affections to him, but to make me of his belief.  C. 
Are there no good men, think you, who want judgement, and are of a weak understanding? Must you believe all they say, because you know they will not deceive you? They may be deceived themselves. They may be ignorant; and then be transported by their zeal, as this man is, to talk of things they understand not.  N. C. 
I will not easily believe him without strict examination, whatsoever credit I give to others.  C. 
You had need be the more careful, because the confidence which some men use, may make you too much presume of their knowledge: As I doubt this man's boldness in his Assertions, and in his Rebukes, will deceive many. He beseeches me, for instance, with no small scorn, to reconcile two passages in my first Book, which he saith, are as opposite one to the other as the East and West, or (to make a greater sound) the Arctic and Antarctic Poles 
q P. 274. : both which, you must think, he hath seen as he passed through all the Signs of the Zodiac of their Sufferings. One is in p. 95. where I say, that according to the Covenant, you ought to have some Form of Divine Service; because you bound yourselves to reform according to the best reformed Churches. The other is pag. 223. where it is affirmed, that you took Scotland for the best reformed Church, and therefore they must be the pattern. Now I pray Sir, saith Philag. What Liturgy had they wont to use in Scotland? or, When was the Church of Scotland for the use of a Liturgy? If they were always against and without a Form of Divine Service (by their good will) how are men bound by the Covenant to use a form of Divine Service every time they meet, by being bound to reform according to their pattern? And he concludes with a piece of Latin imprting that a Liar ought to have a good memory.  N. C. 
That might have been spared: But I think he hath charged you shrewdly.  C. 
I think the stroke will return with a vengeance upon himself: and he will find he hath wounded his own credit and not mine. But, I confess, the reading of this made me sigh to think, that the Nation should be thus abused by every forward and daring man, who hath so good an opinion of himself, as to write Books, and become a public Instructor of others. If wise men will not take care to remedy it, they must be content to see themselves as well as us overrun with folly. And what remedy is there, but that no man be the judge of his own Abilities, but every work pass the approbation of discreet and judicious persons? This was never more necessary than now, when those undertake to inform and teach the Nation, who have not so much knowledge as the Prophesying Ape, with which Giles of Passamonte went about to cozen the Country.  N. C. 
What was that?  C. 
It had this notable faculty; that it could tell nothing at all of what was to come, but knew something of what was passed; and a little of things present: otherwise it would never mount up to Giles his shoulder, and chatterin his ear. But this Phil. of yours, frisks, and grins in my face, and grates his teeth apace, and looks upon me as a scurvy liar: and yet confesses himself Ignorant of what is past; and that, when he mounts up himself without any bidding to talk of it. Thus the poor people are cozened: and this man cousins their Conscience, while such as the other only pick their pockets of twelve pence a piece.  N. C. 
Why? What Liturgy were they wont to use in Scotland? or, when was the Church of Scotland for the use of a Liturgy? Were they not always without and against a Form of Divine Service?  C. 
You need not repeat his words. I was going to tell you, that it is endless to write to such a Scribbler who will ask that Question again which hath been already Answered. Did I not tell you in our last Dehate 
r Continuation of the Friendly Debate, p. 409. , that the Scottish Form of Prayer was printed here in England in the beginning of the late Wars? But he is not at leisure to read Books. He is a writer, forsooth; and cannot spare so much time from this great employment, as to read the Book he writes against. For had it pleased him to be at this pains, there he might have heard of the strange thing, which he imagines no body ever saw, the Scots Form of Divine Service. But he will think, perhaps, that I wrote like himself, without any care at all; and transcribed that passage out of my own imagination, and not from the sight of my eyes. For your better information therefore, you may know, that there being some persons at Frankfort in Queen Mary's time, who would admit no other Form of Prayers, but that in the English Book, Mr. John Knox (a principal Reformer in Scotland afterward) joined with those who quarrelled at it. But it appears by the story, that he was not against a Form of Divine Service, no, nor against all things in the English Book: But as he had an high esteem of the Composers of it 
s Witness the Commendation he gives Cranmer, whom he called, that Reverend Father in God. Admonition to the Professors of the Truth in England, An. 1554. p. 51. ; so he approved in great part of the work itself. A brief description indeed of it being sent by him, and Whittingham to Mr. Calvin and his opinion of it returned Jan. 22. 1555. Mr. Knox and four more were ordered to draw forth another order of Divine Service, which was the very same with that of Geneva. But part of the Congregation still adhering to the Book of England, after some Conference, they composed a new Order by the advice of Mr. Knox: some of it taken out of the English Book, and other things added, as the State of the Church required; and to this all consented, as we are told in the Discourse of the Troubles of Frankfort 
t Reprieved here, 1642. P. 30, 31. . A little after, Dr. Cox coming thither, answered aloud, as the manner is here, which bred a new contention. And, to be short, the English Book was again established and continued (though afterward they left off the use of the Ceremonies) and Mr. Kn●● went to Geneva. There I find he was when Queen Mary died, being one of those who subscribed the Letter to the Church at Frankfort 
u Decemb. 15. 1558. , desiring that whatsoever offences had been given or taken might be forgotten, and that all might lovingly agree when they met in England. Not long after he went into Scotland, where some had begun a Reformation. More particularly it had been concluded by the Lords and Barons, a little after their first Covenant 
x In which they, who forsook Popery, engaged themselves to each other by a Common Bond. , Decemb. 3. 1557. that it was thought expedient, advised and ordained, that in all Parishes of the Realm, the Common Prayer should be read weekly on Sundays, and other Festivals publicly in the Parish-Church; with the Lessons of the Old and New Testament, conforming to the ORDER OF THE BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER. And if the Curates of the Parishes be qualified, to cause them to read the same; if not, or they refuse, that the most qualified in the Parish use and read it 
y History of the Church of Scotl. ascribed to Mr. Knox. Book 1. pag. 110. . In this Settlement Mr. Knox found them; and though the Queen discharged the Common Prayers, and forbade to give any portions to such as were the principal young men who read them; yet they continued to be read 
z Ibid. Book 2. pag. 170. an. 1559. . And what was thus began by a few persons, was afterward completed by a more Public Decree. For by a General Assembly holden in December, 1562. it was ordained that one uniform Order should be observed in the Administration of the Sacraments, according to the Order of Geneva. That is, as I understand it, the very same which Mr. Knox and the rest had used when they were there. And two year after Decemb. 1564. It was again ordained, that Ministers in the Ministration of the Sacraments should use the Order set down in the Psalm Book 
a Both these I have out of the Disputation against the Assembly at Perth; and they are alleged to prove there should be no kneeling at the Sacrament, because their Old Order did not prescribe it. ; to which now that Form, I suppose, was annexed. Nor did Mr. Knox think himself above these Forms, but made use of them; as appears from hence, That being desired before the Council, to moderate himself in his Form of praying for the Queen; he related to them the most vehement and most excessive manner of Prayer that he used in Public, and, after he had repeated the words at length, concluded thus; This is the Form of Common Prayer, as you yourselves can witness 
b Ib. Book 4 p. 380. an. 1564. . The same History also records a Form of Public Prayer used in the Church of St. Giles in Edinburgh, upon the Peace made with France 
c July 8. 1560. p. 245. : and a●● their Form 
d P. 287.  at the Election of Superintendents. He also that wrote the Mederate Reply 
e An. 1646.  to the City Remonstrance against Toleration, presents the Remonstrants in the last leaf of his Book, with a Form of Thanksgiving, used in the Church of Scotland, for their deliverance from the French by the English, An. 1575. B●t why do I mention these particular Prayers? There was Printed, as I said, 1641. the Service and Discipline, and form of Common Prayer, and Administration of the Sacraments used in the English Church of Geneva, received and approved by the Church of Scotland, and presented to the High Court of Parliament that year. And though in that there are now and then such passages as this, the Minister shall use this Confession, or the like in effect; yet they are not to be found in the ancient Books. I have been long Owner of a Form of their Divine Service, Printed at Edinburgh, Cum Privilegio Regali, 1594. and bound up with the Psalm-book, spoken of before; and there is no such allowance given in any place of the Book. The Confession is enjoined in these words; Ane Confession that shall ga befoir the reading of the Law, and befoir every Exercise. And if you read the first Book of Discipline, presented to the Lords of the Secrct Council of Scotland 20 May. 1560. and by them confirmed 
f Though never coafirmed by Act of Parliament. Mr. Knox complaining that some in chief Authority called the same, Devout Imaginations. , you shall find they make some things utterly necessary, and others only profitable for the keeping the Kirk in good Order. Among the first sort are these, that the Word be truly preached, the Sacraments rightly administered, Common-Prayers Publicly made. These things be so necessary, say they, that without the same there is no Face of a visible Kirk. And that they mean the Form of Prayer agreed upon, appears by what follows in the end of that Chapter 
g All this you may fiad in the ninth head, concerning the Policy of the Kirk. ; In Private houses, we think expedient, that the most grave and discreet persons use the Common Prayers at morn and night, for the comfort and instruction of others. More particularly, when they tren of Discipline 
h In the seventh head , they advise, in case any man be excommunicated, his Friend should travel with him to bring him to knowledge of himself, and Commandment given to all men to call to God for his Conversion: And that for this purpose, a solemn and special Prayer be dra●●, for then the thing would be more gra●● done: They are their very words. By all which it is apparent what the consti●●tion of their Church in the beginning was, and that later times have swerved from the Decrees of their Forefathers. So the Doctors and Professors of Aberde●● 
i In their Daplia's 1638. pag. 37.  (and they no mean men neither) tell those who came to urge the Cove●●● on them: They, who have subscribed to it, misregard the Ordinances of our Reformen prefixed to the Psalm-Book, concerning the Office of Superintendents, or Bishops, Funeral Sermons, and set Forms of Prayer, which they appointed to be publicly read i● the Church. This was a thing so well known (though this Boldface gives me the lie for supposing it) that Ludovi● Capellus 
* Thes. Salmur. pars. 3. p. 658.  had reason to write these words; At the Reformation, the Sacred Liturgy was purged from all Superstiti●s and Popish Idolatry, etc. and so there wert several Forms of holy Liturgy pure and simple, made and prescribed all about, by the several Authors of the Reformation; in Germany, France, England, 
☞  SCOTLAND, the Netherlands, etc. Departing as little as possibly they could from the ancient Forms of the Primitive Church, which the reformed Charches have used hitherto happily, and with profit, every one within the limits of their own Nation and Territories. Till at last there very lately arose in England certain morose, scrupulous, and nice, and delicate, that I say not, plainly superstitious persons, to whom the Liturgy of their Church hitherto used seemed fit for many, though most slight and frivolous causes, not only to be disapproved, but plainly abrogated. Bishop Hall—  N. C. 
Enough, enough. You will be as long and tedious as the Common Prayer.  C. 
If that were shorter, you would find the greater fault: and if I used fewer words, he would keep the greater quoil; He is not one of those whom a word will suffice. He will struggle and keep a stir even when he is overthrown; and he must be oppressed with Proofs and Arguments, or else he will not cease to quarrel and contend. I shall add therefore the words of Bishop Hall 
k Apology against the Brownists, Sect. 37. ; who justifying a stinted Form of Prayer against the Separatists, saith; Behold all Churches that were or are in the World are Partners with us in this Crime. O Idolatrous Geneva, and all French, SCOTTISH, Danish, and Dutch Churches! All which both have their Forms with us, and approve them. The same you may find in a Divine of your own 
l Mr. Sam. Clark collection of the lives of ten Divines p. 255. , who tells us (in the Life of Mr. Capel) That he was clear in his opinion for the lawfulness of the use of Set Forms of Prayer, according to the Tenent of all our best and most judicious Divines, and according to the practice of all Churches, even the best reform, saith M. Rogers, now, and in all former Ages. So saith Mr. Hildersham: Yea, and Mr. Smith himself saith, upon the Lord's Prayer (though as then he was warping, and afterwards wandered far in the ways of Separation) that it was the practice of the ancient Church, and of all the Reformed Churches in Christendom, Of the Churches immediately after the Apostles; nay, (saith he) of the Church in the time of the Apostles, as may be probably gathered, out of 1 Cor. 14.26. This hath also been the practice of the best Lights that ever were set up in the Churches of Christ. It is very well known, that the flower of our own Divines went on in this way, when they might have done otherwise, if they had pleased, in their Prayers before their Sermons. To this Testimony (which may serve also for other purposes) I would cast in more, but that you complain of weariness already.  N. C. 
I had rather take your word than be troubled with them.  C. 
And will you take Mr. Impudence his word against all these Author ties? What say you? Was there never a time when they used a Form of Prayer in the Church of Scotland? Were they always without, nay, against a Form when they were left to their own choice? Did their Queen force them to Common Prayers when she forbade the use of them? What do you think? Must we believe all these strong Proofs and solid Testimonies, or will he rub his forehead, and say, like himself, believe me before them all? In good time, Sir. Let him play never so many tricks; let him frisk about, and tumble up and down, and endeavour to make you sport, that you may forget the Question you came about: You will have more wit, I hope, than to let him deceive you any more. Remember; Whise the Ape dances on the Rope, that's the time which is taken to cut the Purses of the Spectators. But I think he may put all that he hath gained by his chattering and skipping about in his eye, and see never the worse. Or rather, he hath brought an old house, as we say, over his own, and others, head. For by flying to this refuge, which proves a refuge of lies, he confesses the force of my Argument that they break their Covenant, when they meet without a Form of Prayer; seeing the best Reformed Churches have used a Form, even, that of Scotland not excepted, after whose Pattern, I will prove, if you please, more fully, that they engaged to Reform.  N. C. 
We have no leisure now for such discourses.  C. 
Then I'll let it alone, and proceed to give you another proof of his Ignorance of things past, though he have 〈◊〉 half the modesty of Giles his Ape. E● you look into p. 243 of his Book, be● saith, the N.C. will make bold to tell us (be should have spoken only for himself, who we know is bold enough) that we use them more haraly than ever ourselves were used: For though some of you, saith he, were sequestered, yet none of you were silenced, or commanded not to preach, or molested merely for Preaching, as such. One would think this man should have good assurance for what he affirms thus bodily (to use his own language) and yet the direct contrary is upon Record, and to be seen in Print. For by a Declaration of 24. Nou. 1655 The late Protector required, not only that no person who had been sequestered for Delinquency, or been in Arms against the Parliament, or adhered unto, or abetted or assisted the Forces raised against them, should keep in their House or Family, as Chaplain, or Schoolmaster any Sequestered or Ejected Minister, Fellow of a College, or Schoolmaster; nor, which is more, permit any of their Children to be taught by such, etc. But that n● person, who for Delinquency or Scandal had been sequestered or ejected, should, from and after the first of January next ensuing, preach in any public place, or at any private meeting of any other persons than those of his own Family. Nor should baptise or administer the Lord's Supper, or Marry, or use the Book of common-Prayer, or the Forms of Prayer therein contained: upon pain of being proceeded against, as by his Orders was provided and directed, for securing the peace of the Commonwealth. This severity moved Doctor Gauden to make a pathetical address 
m Febr. 4. following.  unto him in the be half of so many undone persons; which was afterward Printed. And at the same time the Primate of Ireland came to Town on purpose, and went in person to him to intercede for his indulgence towards them. He took also the sortest opportunities of mediating for them, for the space of five or six weeks together; But was fain at last to retreat to his Country retirement (and so to his grave) with li●t'e success and less hope, to his great grief and sorrow: Using this expression to Doctor Gauden 
n Postscript to his Petitionary Remonstrance. , that he saw some men had only guts, and no bowels 
o Intestina, non vi●cera. .  N. C. 
More words are needless in so plain a business.  C. 
I think so too. No two things can be more opposite than his Declaration and the Protectors. For the one requires them not to preach, and the other says they were not forbidden to preach. But this is his usual presumption: He thinks no body knows that which he doth not know; though alas! he falls so short of that Prophesying Ape, that he is ignorant even of things present, which yet he makes bold to prattle of. He would have the world believe, that there is but one N. C. who hath found some favour upon the account of his great moderation and peaceableness. And who should that be think you? Hear his own words and you will give a  guests 
p P. 225.  There is one, and there is not a second, (as I know in England) who hath been taken into some consideration for the greatness of his Moderation and known Peaceableness of spirit, etc. I say, there is one (but he shall be nameless) that hath found some favour upon that account, etc. I say that one, for aught I know, is the only instance in England, whose Moderation in conjunction with what else might be thought to deserve some abatement of rigour, hath procured him so much favour as will find him bread. By these words I say, as I know, for aught I know; I suppose, you cannot but know the Gentleman. And if he do not know a thing, who should? you, may be, believe it upon his word, there is never another who hath been connived at but this very deserving person. And if he tell you on the other side, that Conformists were only shown a great Rod heretofore (which he speaks of) but not one of them, that I do know, ever whipped with it 
q They are his words, pag. 256. , what would you desire more to persuade you of the present rigour in compare with the lenity (who would think it) that was used in those gracious days? Philagathus knows it not; this is sufficient, and you ought not to inquire further. Though some of us indeed who know little, must needs be so bold (by the leave of his Omniscience) as to say that we are acquainted with many who felt the smart of that Rod. And I, for my part, who am very Ignorant, I confess, in a great many things, know more than one or two that have enjoyed the same indulgence with this rare person, whom he speaks of. And when he tells us his name, he shall know theirs, if he desire it.  N. C. 
I cannot tell what to say to these things. I wish he would talk less of his own knowledge.  C. 
But you know what to do, unless you still think he knows all that he talks of. And that is, not to believe him, when he tells you of hundreds of Families, nay, the Families of many hundreds 
r P. 236 , of so many hundreds 
s P. 234.  of Ministers, that have hardly meat to fill their bellies, or clothes to cover their nakedness. You would think by his repeating it so often, that he had counted them; but we have reason to think he spoke at random. You must first Admit 
t P. 233.  one supposal, and then he will make another; and tell you it may well be supposed there were 1500, etc. who, as it is probable, having most of them families, have little or no temporal estate; and then he can roundly set down hundreds, many hundreds. A wonderful discovery, and a ready way to make thousands as easy as hundreds at pleasure. Much like that of the complainers in John Lilburn's case, who talked of a hundred discoveries that might be made of the people's miseries. And the reply which one 
u Declaration of some proceed of Joh. Lilb. 1648. pag. 60.  made to them may serve him. Indeed it is true: they may be made with ease. It is but to sit down and write an hundred particulars, what come uppermost, (or to make supposals as you think good) taking no care whether they be true or no; and then there will be an hundred such discoveries made.  N. C. 
He did not make supposals sure without reason.  C. 
Yes. And will show you anon there is reason against them. But for the present, we will let that pass, and see if he can give us better Information in greater matters. These are all trifles, you may think, which he doth not mind: But the Covenant— that's a thing he hath studied without all doubt, and knows the bottom of the business.  N C. 
Or else he is skilled in nothing.  C. 
And yet how unfit he is to be your Advocate in that cause, appears by the lame account which he gives us of many things belonging to it. Look into his Book, p. 259. and there you will find, as if he meant to debate the business thoroughly, and had some weighty matter to impart, He gins with an O ye, saying, Good Sir, hear how fair the Concessions of the N. C. are, and then judge whether there be not a just ground and foundation for peace and amity betwixt you and them. Well, I listen Sir, What have you to say? Why? First of all, he tells us, the N. C. do hold, that the Covenant binds them to nothing that is sinful. A marvellous great condescension: like that p. 153, where he tells us, the N. C. are in charity with all the Saints. They are much obliged to you for your great humility and courtesy. It is a singular favour, that you will be pleased to be in charity with them: and his Majesty is much beholden to you, that you will not think yourselves bound to sin. But his Friends would have taught him to have granted more (only he knows little, as I told you, of what hath been said or done) and bid him add, that it doth not bind them to go beyond their place and calling to do good 
x Propos. to his Majesty, p. 12. . And so much for that. Let's prick up our ears now, and hear what he tells us in the second place; for he gapes as if he would hold forth some notable point. Nay Sir, saith he, the N. C. or many of them (for he dare not be confident of all) do think, that if an Oath contain never so many good and necessary things, and but one that is bad and sinful, that one sinful thing is not to be done for the sake of all the good 
y P. 260. . Mark how timorously the Gentleman walks up on the Ice (which he hath done before now 
z They are his words, p. 257. ) and what great care he takes that he catch not a fall. He will not pass his word for all the N. C. There are, you may be sure, many of them, he cannot tell how many, who have arrived to such a degree of honesty, that they will no do a sinful thing together with many good things. But some it seems, be fears, are of another opinion, and think they may do a sinful thing for the sake of a great many good. These are brave lads: And I doubt not, whosoever they are, but they will find a great many good things to bring to pass, when they have a mind to make another Rebellion. But this is not all; he desires we should understand in the third place, that the N. C. or some of them do yield this, that they are not bound by an Oath or Covenant to that which is impossible to be done 
a Ib. . Doth he not advance very much in his Concessions? and come nearer and nearer to us? When some of them (for any thing he knows, I must in charity put in, for his relief) think they are bound to do even impossible things. Nay, many of them may be of that mind, for he dares not venture so far as he did before. It is not the N. C. or many of them, but only the N. C. or some of them think they are not bound, if the matter of the Oath be something that is impossible. Then, as I said, some, nay many he gives us leave to think may be of the contrary persuasion. And what desperate people are those? What will not they attempt, who are not deterred by the apprehension of impossibilities in their way? Woe be to us, when these men are angry. But Lastly, the good Gentleman was in such a terrible taking when he was writing of this matter, or else so loath to come near us; that he dare not so much as say roundly, that the N. C. hold a Father, Husband, Master, or Prince, may make void either the Oaths or Vows made by their Children, Wives, Servants, or Subjects without their consent, in things that are subject to their Authority. No, pardon him there, he dare not go so far, he only says, in a confused manner, that the N. C. or some of them are of this 
b P. 261.  opinion. He seems here to be a little sensible of his Ignorance, and so durst not speak with so much confidence as he doth when he hath less reason. For if he had but read a Book 
* Ames Cases of Consc. Book 4. Q. 11. Resp. 2.  that used very early to be put into the bands of young Scholars, he would have found this Case determined very resolutely in those very words which I now used: and then I persuade myself he would have concluded all the N. C. to be of that mind. But he resolved to be very wise and cautious; though he spoiled all by that means. He dare go no further in the beginning of his Discourse about this matter 
c P. 258. , than to tell us, that some who cannot renounce the Covenant, are hearty sorry that ever the taking of that Covenant was pressed upon any body, because the multiplying of Oaths of that nature, doth usually end in the multiplying of Perjuries through men's breach thereof. He gives us leave to think then, according to his opinion, that most are not sorry, or not hearty sorry, but would make no great matter of doing the same again. What though Perjuries follow? It is but keeping a Day of Humiliation, and bewailing all the rash Oaths and Perjuries, and then they for their part are very innocent, and washed as white as the Snow in Salmon, as he saith they are by the Act of Oblivion 
d Pref. p. 32. . But woe be to the poor Cavaliers, who could not compound for their Estates unless they took the Vow and Covenant; as some made bold to tell his Majesty in their Proposals (which were since the Act of Indemnity, and therefore I may speak of them) Not presuming, say they, to meddle with the Consciences of those many of the Nobility and Gentry, and others that adhered to his late Majesty, in the late unhappy Wars, who at their Compositions took the Vow and Covenant; we only crave your Majesty's clemency to ourselves and others, who believe themselves to be under its Obligation. A greater presumption than that which they would avoid; to remind his Majesty how barbarously his Friends had been used (their Consciences being squeezed and oppressed; as well as their Bodies and Estates) even then when they were pleading for his favour. But my business is only with him. And what do you think of your Champion? Hath he not done you rare service in declaring your Opinion about Oaths and Covenants? Will he not make an excellent Casuist, and be fit to be put in the Chair to read Lectures for the satisfying of Conscience? Let not the Schools lose such a precious Engine as this. It is a thousand pities that he should be confined to the Trade of making Sauces, of giving relishes, and trimming out Dishes: (or if you will have them so called, Discourses) He can untie your knots, and tell where the Hinge of the Controversy turns 
e Preface, p. 40. I have given you Cardo Controversiae between the C and N. C. , (and that in Latin too) and furnish you with so many Disses, Diffs, and Div's, as shall give great content, and make the feircest Disputers presently shake hands. For you see in four words, he hath laid a Foundation of Peace and Amity between the C. and N. C. though he be not yet come so far as to determine positively whether between all, or many or only some. That you must think is reserved for another Lecture. And yet I perceive there are some testy people, who think he hath done no more to make an accord among us, by his solemn handling this case of Conscience; than Norandino of Savignano 
f Whom we find in the Hospital of Incurable, etc. 1600. p. 54.  did to the composing of a Controversy in Italy.  N. C. 
If he were long about it, pray let's not hear it.  C. 
No, he had done presently. For there being a great Disputation held in the City of Cesena, this Lubber passing by chance through the place where all the Disputants were met together, cried with a loud voice make room (which immediately he made for himself with a good Quarterstaff) and give ear to me. I hold this Conclusion, that Savignano is not distant from Cesena above ten miles. And next I maintain this other, that Savignano is of the Masculine Gender, and Cesona of the Feminine. And I'll also stand to this, That more people will give ear to me who am but a fool, than to you who would appear to be wise. And last of all—  N. C. 
Hold you there. He will spoil all again, I much doubt, after he hath spoken so wise a word.  C. 
It is well noted: and therein the most are fully agreed. But setting aside the Quarterstaff, which is a notable weapon, to put an end to a Disputation, I think Norandino, and your Phil. have much alike abilities for composing Differences. Only the Italian had more confidence, and spoke positively: but the Englishman (contrary to his wont) spoke with greater diffidence and distrust of himself; which may be an argument of a little more wisdom.  N. C. 
I have seen indeed this Sentence cited out of Thucydides, That Ignorance makes men bold, and Knowledge makes them timorous.  C. 
There is a great deal of truth in it. But for all that, the Bold fellows carry the day: for they are thought very knowing; and those that dare not talk confidently of all things, the vulgar account very ignorant. So that, whether out of Ignorance, or much Policy and Knowledge of the People's humour, you may determine; your Knight hath taken the right course; who very often sets a good face, as we say, upon the matter, and speaks with great assurance, right or wrong: And in this, I think, no man hath a faculty beyond him.  N. C. 
Good now let's have no more of this; for I was tired long ago with it.  C. 
Pray stretch your Patience a little farther: I will not exercise it too much. Do you not think, by his Discourse, that he is very well acquainted with me?  N. C. 
I should think most inwardly.  C. 
So would any body else. For he can tell you my private opinions, my studies, and what I am able to do as well as if I had taken him into my bosom. Such an Ass, it seems, I am to discover and open my heart to a stranger: or rather such a silly piece of Impudence is he, as to venture to talk by guess, and always to take such bad direction as to guests amiss. He tells you for example, that I am one of those whose judgement leads them to have a great respect for Scientia media 
g P. 219. .  N. C. 
What's that?  C. 
You may ask him, if you think he can tell you. It is sufficient for me to let you know that I have so little respect for it, that I look upon it as an idle invention. So wide a distance there is between his knowledge of me, and my knowledge of myself. However, he can tell you greater matters than this, and confident he is, that once I expounded the Scripture according to Mr. Calvin, and now I understand them according to Grotius.  N. C. 
He only wishes that be not your meaning, p. 121.  C. 
That's a way he hath of telling you his mind, and conveying the belief of a thing into yours. For he makes no bones afterward 
h P. 288.  to say, that I tell my Hearers, it is a singular Privilege that they have the Gospel so plainly expounded to them, i. e. as Grotius and I expound it, but not as it is expounded by those Divines that consult Calvin and Beza, and twenty more such worthy Interpreters. He should have taken the courage to make them up seven and twenty 
i You set H. Grotius (for aught I know) against Twenty seven men who are not of his mind, p. 11, ; which, for aught he knows, is as true as the other. Especially since he is so hardy as to tell you that I adore Grotius, p. 269. and Idolise him, p. 279. and trust to him, and rely upon him, as if he were God himself, p. 10, And all this, though I never so much as named him, nor have any greater acquaintance with him than with other good Authors, nor so much neither; having gained some considerable knowledge, I hope, of the Holy Scriptures, before I advised with him, or any that he hath mentioned.  N. C. 
Strange! I thought he had been your Oracle.  C. 
My God you should have said: And your Philagathus, some great Genius who stands at my elbow every time I take down a Book: And sees me throw Mr. Calvin aside, but making a lowly reverence, and kissing his Works when Grotius comes to hand; or rather kneeling down, as if I meant to worship, as well as read him.  N. C. 
I cannot tell how to excuse this boldness.  C. 
Which is so great and shameless, that if he wore a Steel Vizor, it could not be more impudent. He hath a vile suspicion, he tells you, that Grotius his Notes upon the Canticles did me a great deal of harm; which is a marvel, seeing I never read them in all my life.  N. C. 
How? not read them?  C. 
It is as I tell you, upon my honest word.  N. C. 
And yet he is not content to mention it once, but repeats it again 
k P. 122, 195.   C. 
And would put a jealousy into you, that I have such a fire kindled in me, as makes me burn with desire to ofter Sacrifice to another Idol. I am a shamed to set down his words, they are so lewd. Nor can I imagine what should bring such things to his mind which are so far from my thoughts, but his own filthy inclinations; or what should make him mention some things 
l Bachelors, prettiaess, Wives, etc. See p. 23, 122, 153. , so often, and in such a manner as he doth, but his love to smutty Discourse. He is not content to make mouths at me (of whom he hath so little knowledge) but in effect at St. Paul himself; who commends those that preserved themselves Holy in a single life 
m P. 153. . As if he placed perfection in wedlock; or was of that Gentleman's mind who taught the people this lesson in the late times 
n Some Flashes of Lightaing, etc. Sermon upon 1 Cor. 11.10, 11, 12, 1648. P. 172. : God needs such a vessel as Christ to put himself in. Christ needs such a vessel as you to put himself in. God would run every way, settle not where, be bounded in nothing if he did not settle in his Son. The Son would rest no where, have no content, if it were not in thee. Men would run every way, rest not where, if not bounded by a wife.  N. C. 
Why do you not let such abominable stuff lie buried in oblivion?  C. 
I had rather have been ignorant of it, than put to the trouble to detest it. But since it is divulged, and comes in my way, I thought it a piece of very fit dirt, to stop such a foul mouth as his withal.  N. C. 
I wish he had not opened it in these matters.  C. 
Nor would he; if he had been endued with a little of that virtue which St. Bernard so much commends in his last Sermon upon the Canticles: Modesty I mean, which he calls among other things, the Praise of Nature, the Sign of all Honesty, the First fruits of Virtue, the Sister of Continence, the Preserver of Purity, the Keeper of our Fame, the Beauty of Life, and the special Glory of the Conscience. But his whole Book ●s a stranger to this excellent quality, and writ in such a manner, that they who can like it are in a worse condition, in my judgement, than those who love to feed upon coals and ashes. He is come to such a pitch of boldness, that he will undertake to tell you not only what Authors I read, but how much I have read in my Books: And that, for instance, I had no more wherewith to charge T.W. than what I produced 
o Pag. 51. . Which is the greater piece of impudence, because I have sufficient reason to conclude that he hath not read his Works himself, and so cannot tell what absurdities I have observed. Nor hath he read W. B. later Works, though he commend them for the good and savoury passages that are in them. His former 
p P. 194.  indeed he thinks he hath read, I say he thinks (for he repeats it) that he hath read more in them, than I pretend to have done. A Huge piece of Learning! He might have safely left out his, I think, and spoken more confidently; for if he had read but one line, it would have been enough to make good his word: Because (whatever I have read) I have pretended Nothing at all in that matter, but spoken only of his new Sermons. But he will make you an amends for this diffidence; for he hath a great secret to tell you with open mouth concerning the Conforming Ministers; some of which, he saith, are known or judged to be arrant Socinians 
q Pag. 70. . And how doth he know it, think you? Is it by Revelation? Verily (to use one of his own words) for any thing that I can perceive, he doth not know it, but only suspect it. And then how dare he, or others, judge them to be Socinians? Mark, I pray, his partition, They are either known, or judged, to be such; that is, they are judged to be so sometimes, though they are not known to be so. These are men of a very nice and tender Conscience, who take upon them to sit in the Judgement Seat, and pronounce sentence of Condemnation upon their Neighbours before they understand their Cause, or have any assurance that they are guilty of the Crime. When such men have Power proportionable to their Malice; Lord have mercy upon us. If judgement and knowledge be divided in this manner, who is there that may not be voted to destruction? They will clap their hands and cry as a man goes along, thinking no harm; A Socinian, a Socinian, and straightway the Hounds are let lose—  N. C. 
Use, I beseech you, more civil terms.  C. 
You have forgot, I perceive, your own phrase, so common in the late times, when you encouraged one another to go a Parson hunting. But you will remember it when you have power, and the people, as I was saying, will run like so many Dogs to tear the Innocent in pieces. For my part, I wish he may be questioned by those who have Authority about this matter, that he may either make good his suggestion, or else be branded for a malicious Scribbler.  N. C. 
There is nothing of malice, I am confident, in his words.  C, 
I crave your pardon, if I do not believe you: I have cause to think he knows not One. For among all my acquaintance, I could never meet with a man that knows, or suspects, so much as one single Minister to be of that persuasion. And one would think, that Conformists should be known to one another, better than to such triflers as he. Therefore I cannot but look on this as a piece of his disingenuity and spite, (of which I told you, I would give an instance.) Socinian he knows is an odious name, and so he would willingly fasten it on some of us, if he could: the better to stir up the People's hatred against all those whom they please to imagine men of that strain. And for the very same cause, I doubt not, he talks of our Idolising Grotius. It is a popular word, as was said the last time we met together, which he hath not yet forgot. Whensoever they would have any thing hated, it is but saying that such and such make an Idol of it, and immediately the People will abhor both it and them. Thus they said, we made an Idol of the late King. And you may easily know with a little recollection, who it was that told a Gentleman when he said Grace, and prayed God would bless the King, (a little before his Death) Your Idol shall not stand long. But they dare not talk of Kings now: and yet the People must be persuaded that we have still some Idol to worship, and who should it be but Grotius? (a suggestion as false as the Father of Lies can invent) together with another Image, like that of Nobuchadnezzar's, Dan. 4.32. which, saith he, you too much adore, and would have others do the like 
r Pag. 14. . But it can no more stand before the more select parcels of another Statue which you decry, than Dagon could before the Ark. No, it trembles and quakes already, (witness your own fears, saith he,) the very sound of Idol, and Image, and Dagon, is able to do the business. It is as strong as a mighty wind to stir up the People's Passions, and put them into a hurry against us: Especially when they are persuaded the Ark is among these men; or if the Ark of God be taken, and the Ordinances a while removed by the Philistines, (you know the meaning of this Gibberish) it will return again with a vengeance.  N. C. 
Take heed, Good Sir, you are too bold with the Scripture, The last time you walked on the Battlements of Blasphemy 
s Pag. 16. , when you approved of that saying, A man may talk nothing but Scripture, and yet speak never a wise word.  C. 
That's another of these men's popular Arts, to cry Blasphemy, Blasphemy: For then the People think they smell the Apocalyptick Beast. They can understand also what the Battlements of Blasphemy are, though I cannot. Some frightful thing I warrant you; which makes their hair stand an end, or their heads turn round; if they did not so before. Thus they dealt with Bishop Hall, who having said in his Humble Remonstrance, that Episcopacy had continued in this Island ever since the first Plantation of the Gospel, thought good to add these words, 
t P. 21. Of the Humb. Remonstr.  Certainly, except all Histories, all Authors fail us, nothing can be more certain than this Truth. Here Select. cries out very rudely. Os Durum! Nothing more certain? What? Is it not more certain that there is a God? Is it not more certain that Christ is God-Man? Is it not more certain that Christ is the only Saviour of the World? Nothing more certain? Must this be an Article of our Creed? etc. And so they run on; accusing these words as bordering upon Blasphemy; which are no more (as he told them in his Answer) than what every body say in their hourly discourse, when they would confidently affirm any Truth. Nay, so carelessly do they throw out this word against those who oppose their conceits, that we are told by one 
u Anatome of Dr. Gauden, 1660. , to charge the Covenant as contradictory to former Oaths, and as tending to apparent Perjury, is such a manifest Blasphemy against so sacred as Oath, as cannot but be abhorred by all sober Christians. These Patterns your Phil. exactly follows; aggravating every thing though never so harmless, with the like heap of Questions, and the charge of Blasphemy. He is as like them as if he had been spit out of their mouths, as we commonly speak, using the same witless and malicious intimations: (as the Bishop's words are) only he seems to have a more viperous inclination, and every where goes about seeking out hairs upon Eggshells.  N.C. 
You must not think to pass this over so smoothly.  C. 
Why? St. Hierom speaks bolder words, and I never yet heard that he was a blasphemer. By a perverse Interpretation, saith he, the Scripture becomes of the Gospel of Christ, the Gospel of Man, or which is worse, the Gospel of the Devil 
x Upon the first to the Galatians. . For which he gives this reason; the Gospel consists not in the words of the Scriptures, but in the sense; not in the surface, but in the marrow; not in the leaves of words and phrases, but in the root of reason.  N.C. 
But he that talks nothing but Scripture, gives no sense, but merely recites the bare Text.  C. 
I remember his words, and they are wondrous wise. What doth he recite the Text for? Is it not to some purpose or other?  N. C. 
Yes sure.  C. 
Then he gives the words of Scripture a sense by applying them to his purpose. Which yet may be so wide not only from the meaning of the Scripture, but from all reason, that it may be very idle stuff.  N. C. 
But still there is good sense in Scripture words.  C. 
He hath made them his words; having separated them from their sense. And it is an easy matter to show you a Discourse all in Scripture words and phrases, which you yourself shall call nonsense. Such there were in the Primitive Times, as we may gather from Irenaeus; who tells us of some, that rather than their own Dreams shall want authority, would cite the Holy Scripture to give them countenance: though they were no better employed all the time, than those that wreath a Rope of Sand 
y 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. . For they dissolved the parts and members of Truth, by transposing the words from their proper places, and putting them out of their natural order and connexion. They cheated the people with scraps of Scripture set together after their own fancy: and called their Imaginations the Word of God, because they spoke the syllables and phrases of it. Which was just, saith he, as if an excellent workman should make a Picture of a Prince, consisting of many precious Stones so artificially put together, that they exactly represented his person. And when he had done, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc. L. 1. p. 32.  another should come and transpose these Stones, and set them in another order; till he had made the Figure of a Dog, or a Fox, and then should confidently affirm, that this is the very Picture of the King which the excellent Artist made. How would you confute such a man? He shows you all the materials; the very same Stones which the workman used. There is not one of his own putting in, he hath not made the least addition out of his own brains; and therefore it must needs be the King's Picture. For any thing I can see, according to this Gentleman's Discourse, the simple people must believe him, and, as Irenaeus speaks in the same place, reverence this Filthy Fox, which he hath made by misplacing the very same Stones, as if it were the true Image of their Prince. This is a lively resemblance of the practice of those men who (as he goes on) tear the Word of God in pieces, and plucking some from this Book 
z 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. , some from that, accommodate it to their Tales and old Wives Fables, saying, This is the Word of God. There cannot be a more exact description of the Age wherein we live, in which (as Bishop Hall told Robinson) you join Scriptures, just as you separated yourselves. And when you have packed together a great number of them according to your fancy and humour, than you think you have spoken the Word of God, though sometime never a word of sense. And now I call to mind the Author of that saying which he carps at, only he saith scarce, and I said never a wise word: and that is Dr. Jackson in his Book of the Original of Unbelief 
a Ch. 47. p. 425. , where be hath a large Discourse to show how both the Jew, the Romanist, and the Separatist are wont to dream upon the Holy Scripture: and there is no Blasphemy in it that I can find. The sum of it is this. Musing and dreaming are very near of kin: the Fancy in both being apt to wove in every circumstance or occurrent that hath the least semblance or connexion with the principal matter represented, or thought upon. For in Dreams, the principal sense, which should judge, being fast bound with sleep, cannot examine the intimations given by the fancy, and so every thing passes current which it suggests. And in Musing the fancy is so contracted within itself, that it can neither receive Instruction from the Understanding, nor give it perfect Information from Representations made by the External Senses, and so its follies are not corrected. But les the Original of these erroneous imaginations or fallacies be what they will; this is certain, that they insinuate themselves after the same manner into such as dream, and such as rather muse than meditate upon the Scripture. Nor is there any other means to prevent their Insinuations, beside vigilant and attentive alacrity to sift and examine every circumstance, by setting our thoughts a work to countersway our extemporary conceits or apprehensions, with all other contrary inducements possible. He that thinks of nothing, but of confirming his own conclusion or apprehension will presently persuade himself, the Word of God (especially if he hear it alleged or quoted by another) speaks just so as he thinks, and proffers itself as a witness to give testimony to the truth of his present thoughts. Thus the superstitious Palmister, who foretells the changes to be in your life, by looking into the lines or wrinkles in the palm of your hand, thinks he hears the foundation of his Art in the sound of Moses his words, 
Exod. 13.9. Job 37.7.  And it shall be for a sign upon thy hand, or of Job's, He sealeth up the hand of every man. The Ignorant Priest likewise, that searched for the word Mass in the Holy Scriptures, skipped for joy, and cried I have found it, I have found it, when he read those words of St. Andrew, Joh. 1.41. We have found the Messiah. And I may add W. B. in his muse upon an unbelieving heart, when he came to think that it is rash, sudden, and maketh haste, presently applied those words of David to this purpose, 
Psal. 31.22. Psal. 116.11. Seas. Truths, p. 218.  I said in my haste, I am cut off from thy sight; and I said in my haste, all men are Liars.  N. C. 
And pertinently enough: are they not?  C. 
No: For by haste in the former place, he means his sudden flight from Saul, which he thought could not be so swift, as that he should make an escape, but his Enemies without a marvellous Providence would cut him off. And in the other Flight like to this, he had some reason to lay, that there was no Fall'th in Man, when his own Son whom he loved, and had so much obliged, and his old and trusty Counsellor proved false and rebelled against him. Some other words of David, when he was in the same danger and distress, this Philag. in his dreaming way of thinking, applies to Gods deserting men's Souls. And generally when they discourse of Humane Reason, they imagine it is that very thing which St. Paul calls the wisdom of the Flesh. In so much that a noted person, gives this reason why men should order nothing in the Worship of God, because the wisdom of the Flesh is at enmity with God: and God hath no reason to trust an Enemy in moulding his Service. All Humane Inventions have a malignity in them, and smell of the Fountain from whence they come. He gives this reason also, why they should invent nothing for Ornament in God's Service, because God hath chosen the mean and base things of this world, 1 Cor. 1 27. This is to run after phantasms, and to triamph in words, as a great m●n of another Nation speaks. To bu●ld Observations upon three or four (sometimes but one) little syllables, which signify nothing but what custom without any reason pleases, and are of no more value than use gives them. And thus, as Dr. Jackson there observes, Brains apt to busy themselves about curious thoughts or scrupulosities, generally frame such compositions of sacred lines, as men in a Frenzy, or other like grievous distemper, do out of scrabled walls or painted cloth. The one make foolish or monstrous Pictures of true colours, the other draw senseless and ridiculous Inferences out of Divine antecedents. And unless I had compared the marginal Quotations of some Anabaptists and Schismatical Discourses with the Text, and both with the conclusion intended by their Authors, I should hardly have conceived it possible for a man to speak nothing but Gospel, and yet to speak scarce a true or a wise word. You may find the same Observation in Mr. Bernard 
b Separatists schism, ● 26. , (whom we spoke of the last time) who tells us the Separatists that then were, to the simple would seem to speak nothing but Scripture, when indeed the main point considered, they speak nothing less.  N. C. 
Pray trace this folly no further.  C. 
I should not have troubled myself at all with these dreamers, were it not that they are so extremely proud and insolent.  N.C. 
No such matter.  C. 
Yes: The most common and ordinary people are so well trained up to a conceit of themselves, that though they will acknowledge one of our Ministers to have more Learning than themselves, and to have studied longer, (a great piece of humility!) yet they will signify, by the shaking of their heads, how much they pity their ignorance in the mind of God: and peremptorily conclude, that no man that is not of their Sect, knows so much of the Will of God as they do. And the stronger reason (as the forenamed learned Divine observes) is brought against them, the forwarder they are to appeal from Reason to the Scripture, and that is to be interpreted by the Spirit, and that is in themselves alone: and we are told that Learning will do men no service to understand the Divine Mysteries.  N.C. 
This is a thing that we are sorry for, as much as you.  C. 
Are you so? Why did not your Philag, than so much as approve of the Reprehension I gave to these men's vain Imaginations? nor ingenuously confess that the Nation came to be overrun with folly, by such means as I related; but skips over all that without so much as touching of it. This is an argument of his disingenuity, and study to serve a Party; that rather than say a word against it, he will let the most sottish people think themselves wise, nay, encourage them to imagine we blaspheme, if we tell them, they talk foolishly in Scripture phrase.  N. C. 
Why do you call them sottish? it is a harsh word.  C. 
Why may not that be allowed to me which was to Melancthon in times past? who feared not to say, that this is the sottish or ungraceful discourse, which is opposed by the Apostle to speech seasoned with Salt 
c Col. 4.6. See him upon the place. . For by Salt he understands a judgement rightly and dextrously applying the Word of God. As in our Saviour's words, Mark 9 ult. he thinks by Salt, is meant, the Word of God 
d Verbum Dei rectè intellectum adhibito judicio, seu discrimine, etc.  rightly understood, by using judgement and discerning, lest it be transformed into profane imaginations, etc. and the native signification of the words be changed. But Phil. stands not upon judgement and discretion, the Word of God applied by imagination will do as well. His Salt is all of another sort, which in truth is but sottish fancy. Let the world be still abused with the pretence of Visions and Revelations, what cares he? He had rather indeed they would let these words alone 
e Pag. 47. : But if they have a list to use them, he is ready to offer his service for their defence. Though the world be cheated by them never so much; he will stand by them, and maintain it that they mean honestly. For what is there, that he cannot make good by his it may be's, and such like tools? It is possible, saith he, that W. B. might mean not elevating, but humbling Visions of God. Say you so Sir? Deal sincerely I beseech you: Did you read the place? What say you? Do not hum and haw, but speak like a man, and say, whether did you look or no, into that Book which you undertook to justify, to see what kind of Visions he spoke of? If not; with what Conscience durst you become his Advocate, and take upon you to maintain you knew not what? Is this your way of writing Books? It gives men occasion to think you scribbled this to get a little money, which you hoped W. B's. Friends would present you withal, not caring whether it were true or false. If you did; then I ask you, where were your eyes, that you could not see the instance whereby he explains himself, and that is of St. Peter's beholding Christ transfigured, and saying, It is good to be here? Was this an humbling Vision, with which he was so transported? Or doth he speak only of Gods giving counsel and comfort to his people (as you would have us think) when he expressly calls them Times of Raptures and Revelations? All this is within the compass of five or six lines in W. B's Book; which makes me think it could not have escaped him, if he had looked into it. And therefore I am of the opinion, that according to his wont boldness, he wrote at all adventure; knowing very well the humour of those he had to please, who would magnify and cry up any thing for an Answer, though never so silly, nay, never so false. And though the impudent cheat be now discovered, it is possible (to speak in his Style) that he hopes to escape well enough. For they can pardon such sins one to another, and shall still be reputed Saints, though they lie and deceive, and dissemble the Truth. If he had had so much honesty as he makes a show of, he would have looked upon this as a fit place to caution every one against such bold pretences to Visions and Revelations; which he knows are very dangerous, and not therefore to be winked at, because they are zealous people who talk of them. No body seemed to have a greater zeal than Tho. Muncer. He was for reforming even the Reformation. He held Luther himself to be too cold: and said his Sermons savoured not enough of the Spirit. And by pretending to more frequent and familiar conversation with God, and that he had Divine Revelations, and that God declared by Visions his Will to the Saints, he got the reputation of a man extraordinarily inspired: and you know what was the end of it. He had a command from the Heavenly Father (that was his phrase) to root up, and destroy, all the Princes and Magistrates of the Earth, because that Christ said, the Kings of Nations; to abolish also the Execution of justice, because we read, resist not evil; and to forbid all Oaths, to determine Controversies, because he said, Swear not at all, etc. He had the company also of one Phifer, who used to talk as much of his Dreams, as the other of his Visions; especially of one, wherein he saw an infinite number of Rats and Mice, which he destroyed: This he expounded to be a commandment from the Heavenly Father to destroy all the Nobility, who, he said, like so many Vermin did eat up the poor people. And what by their professed detestation of sin, their great compassion to the common sort, their soothing and stroking their followers, by appropriating to them all the savourable Titles, the good words, and the gracious promises in Scripture, and casting the contrary always on the heads of those that opposed them; they strangely prevailed. The common acclam●t●ons of the people, whereby they followed these deceivers, were such as these. Verily, these are the Men of God. These are the true and sincere Prophets of the Lord. And if any such Prophet, or Man of God, suffered most justly by order of the Law for Felony, Rebellion, or Murder; the multitude were so strangely enchanted, that they lamented the taking away of God's dear Servants; and were affected, as if Sr. Stephen, or some such blessed man had been again Martyred.  
All this, and a great deal more, if he did not know, he might easily have informed himself, even out of the little Papers printed in the beginning of our Wars. If he did know it, he thought good to dissemble it, for fear of offending some choice ones, as they call themselves: though in the mean time the King's Crown may be in danger, if the fancy of Visions and Revelations get into men's heads: Then on a sudden, they may think, the still waters are to be turned into blood; and that the very moment is come before they were ware of it, that the quiet people are to be put into a commotion. For W. B. 
f Tenth Sermon, of Preventing Mercy. 1667. p. 488.  in another place tells you, that God prevents men's thoughts in the Revelation of the Truths of the Times. What greater blessing than for a man to be well acquainted with the Truth of the Times, in opposition to Antichrist? Now says John in the first of Revel. I heard a voice behind me; before I was ware God prevented me, acquainting me with these Truths of the Revelations. You know very well (unless you have forgot our last Discourse) what he means by the Truth of the Times. It is the witnessing work, and the Witnesses having power over the waters to turn them into blood. The time he told you is near; and here he teaches you to look for a sudden Revelation, such as the Apostle had when he thought not of it, that is, to follow a strong fancy, when it comes into your head to go about the great work.  N. C. 
His meaning may be better than his words.  C. 
So may mine, Philag.. supposes. And yet he is very angry with me, merely out of a fear that godliness may be thought to be derided, though I did not intent it: Why then had he not the like zeal against W. B. if he be thoroughly sincere? Why did he not at least tell him, that whatsoever he may mean, the people will think he looks for new Revelations. Or, Why did he not bid the people beware of him? No, not a word of this, I warrant you. What? tell such a man as he of his faults? or teach his people such things as they do not like? How shall they live then, if they be so zealous? Let the world run wild; so they be but maintained, it is no matter.  N. C. 
God doth sometimes reveal things secret to persons of eminent Holiness. Did not Bishop Usher foretell the very year and day wherein the Irish Rebellion begun, no less than 30 year before?  C. 
Now God help him. He is drawn, I see, to the very dregs. First, he dare not confidently aver the truth of his story: but after his usual manner gins it with, If I mistake not, Bishop Usher 
g Pag. 47. , etc.— Now I have shown you, that it is no difficult thing for him to mistake: And it is very probable, that he is mistaken here. For Mr. Clark, (a Friend of yours who writ his Life, and knew of these matters as much as this Gentleman) could tell us no more but this; That in the year 1624. he said before many witnesses, that he was persuaded the greatest stroke to the Reformed Church was yet to come, and that the time of the utter ruin of the Roman Antichrist should be when he thought himself most secure 
h Collect. of the Lives of ten Divines, pag. 226. . But admit there was such a Prediction; What doth it make to his purpose? Doth W. B. speak of such V●sions and Revelations as this in that Discourse? Or must his common Hearers be supposed to be under Visions and Revelations, and know things to come, because one great man foretold once in his days one great Revolution? The man himself was a little sensible of the danger of such Sermons. But mark, how he comes off. What God seldom doth (as drying up the Red-Sea) and what he not where promises to do, men should seldom speak of as a thing they expect. It seems the Red-Sea hath been dried up more than once, and so you may say, though but seldom, that you expect the like again, the drying up (suppose) of the Sea between Calais and Dover, when you have done your work here, and are to carry the Covenant into all Lands. What though it be not promised? you may prattle of it notwithstanding, now and then: All the danger is, if you do it often. Do but beware of that, and you have liberty not only to gape for great things, but to chat concerning them. Though how to make their tongues lie still will be hard to tell, when they hear from W. B. not only of a single Vision, but of Visions, Raptures, and Revelations. Away, Away with this ill-favoured daubing, and these witless Apologies. Throw away your Plasters good Doctor, for they are too narrow for the Sore. The People have been cheated too much already, do not for shame endeavour to continue the Imposture. Be contented now, to hear that you and your Friends are sometimes mistaken, and have misled the simple; And do not peremptorily resolve that you will be in the right, or at least will speak in the Apostolical style, that you may be admired; as if with St. Paul you were caught up into the third Heavens.  N. C. 
I am convinced that these are not safe expressions; and I wish they would forbear them.  C. 
And yet Phil. can patiently hear them talk of opening all their windows for new light, without saying a word against it. A wondrous zealous man when he list; and when it pleases him, as cold as Ice. Time was, when these things were thought to be of most pernicious consequence: and it was one of the Reasons given against the Toleration which the Independents sought for: That they professed Reserves, and New Lights, for which they will (no doubt) expect the like Toleration, and so without any end 
i Letter of the London Ministers to the Assembly. Jan. 1. 1645. P. 3. . Let them move for Toleration when once they are positively determined how far they mean to go, and where they mean to stay: till than it is not seasonable. Thus they discoursed heretofore: But now—  N. C. 
You must consider, that he may be ignorant of these things.  C. 
Or troubles not his thoughts about them. What though the New Lights proved but flashes of Lightning? its all one to him, you may keep your windows still open. And this I remember, was one flash of those hot-brained men: that the Two Witnesses 
k Some Flashes of lightning of the Son of Man Serm. 9 p. 195, etc. an. 1648. , who are to do such wonders, are Christ in Flesh, and Christ in Spirit. Christ in Flesh testifying in weakness and meanness; but, Christ in Spirit testifying in more power and glory. And would you know who these are? Behold another Flash: They are the Saints, into whom the holy anointing runs through the Flesh and Spirit of Christ. Christ in Flesh hath much of the nature of the Old Testament: Christ in Spirit hath more of the New. But however, it is generally to be understood of the Saints, Who are the two anointed ones, Zach. 4. and the two Olive Trees rising out of the Root of God—  N. C. 
I'll shut my ears, for they cannot away with such stuff.  C. 
And if Phil. would shut his eyes too, it would be better for him. The Eastern Proverb gives him wiser counsel, than W. B. not to open all the windows, but to shut them: for then the whole house will be full of light. If he would leave off hearing and telling of stories, and retire seriously into his own soul, it would inform him that he is too forward and bold; and that he ought to know more before he be a Writer. Nay, he would find great reason, I believe, to suspect his sincerity: since he deals not his Reproofs impartially, when he hath occasion; but can better endure to hear one man cry open your windows for new light, than hear another only make an innocent reflection on that vanity:  N. C. 
I think he hath required your conceit, with his story of the Linkboy and a man in black, pag. 48.  C. 
Good! He will bring up a new name for our Ministers; the men in black. Are not these excellent Servants of Jesus Christ, holy men of God; that teach the people nicknames for us? What will please those, who can neither endure the men in white, nor the men in black? Or what will reform those, who after they have been admonished of the foulness of this crime in others, and think they were too sharply rebuked for it; commit it impudently themselves?  N. C. 
He confesses with shame and sorrow, that the common people have too much reproached your Ministers as they went along the Streets 
l P. 239. .  C. 
So much the more reason for a a deeper blush and greater confusion in his face, that he should still continue the reproaches. But mark, I pray, his base hypocrisy; (for I can make nothing else of it) who will not forbear, even when he is confessing a sin with shame and sorrow, to make himself merry, and so to take away all sense of it. They should not have reproached them, saith he, if they met them sober, and their present gesture was not bowing and reeling. What was this, but to abate the edge of his reproof, and to make the guilty smile, when he should have made them cry? Reproof did I call it? No. He hath none for so petty a crime as this. It is but a trifle to call a good Minister, Baal's Priest, Black Devil (as one lately called an excellent person) For this is all he hath to say to it. It was, and is, very uncomely to reproach them when they meet them sober, etc. Very uncomely! O! How mild and gentle the man is grown on a sudden? How cool and lost is his breath after all his blostering; as if he would not molest a feather? He is as tender as that Gentleman, who told us, the main thing in which all God's people generally from the highest to the lowest have been too unskilful, is denying self, and contemning those allurements of gain, which puff up the mind of men with boasting and vain glory 
m Short Discourse concerning the work of God, in this Nation, 1659. pag. 5. : or, as those that said, the Brownists, who had fallen into a damnable Schism (as I told you the last time 
n Out of Mr. Gifford. pag. 329. of the Continuation. ) were a little over-sh●t in some matters. Alas for them! that they should be such shrewd men at getting money, and so unskilful in self-denial! Verily, it is a defect. It is not well, that they have gone so far from the Church of God. Nor is it a comely thing, that his Ministers should be reviled. No; it is very uncomely. They ought to have passed them by civilly 
o P. 240. of his Answ. : indeed, they ought. But how if they do not? Why? they may be Saints for all that, as far as I can perceive; only not so mannerly as he wishes they were. Or if they be not, they may think themselves to be so, notwithstanding any thing this Gentleman hath to say, who dares not displease them. And here, if you observe it, he hath given us a notable proof of his disingenuity and spiteful folly, in thrusting into his Book so many idle stories, whose Authors we know not where to find, and of which he himself hath no assurance. I could tell you, saith he, of a Linkboy, etc. Can tell us? What? more than he hath told us? No. Who he was, saith he, I cannot tell 
p Ib p. 48. . A pretty piece of hypocrisy; to make a show as if he would not tell a story, and in that very breath to tell as much of it as he knows. And a fine way of writing falsely, to blot Paper with stories taken up in the Streets, of he cannot tell whom. One of M. Bucer's Pharisees I see is revived, that easily believes tales, and having rashly believed them, loves to spread and scatter them abroad 
q Continuation, pag. 260. . And he is so much the worse, because when he distrusts them, yet he will not stick to report them. I shall not meddle with the private stories, notoriously false, which he hath helped to blow about (though if he go on at the rate he hath begun, he may be brought in danger of the Statute against the Spreaders of false News) you may find another absurd passage in his Book, p. 266. which he dares not affirm upon ●●s word. For it was used, he saith, if I mistake not, by one of your Preachers: and it was this, or to this effect, etc. I have discovered so many of his mistakes, that I can see no reason to believe it. It might be a a Preacher of your own who spoke those words, or he might not speak to that purpose, but some other. But they say (p. 292) they are reported. (p. 240.) If fame may be trusted (p. 244.) and such like Authorities are brought as the strongest warrant he hath for his tale; wherewith he abuses the people; and slanders his neighbours. You may wonder indeed (as I find a great stickler 
r W. Walwyn Fountain of Slander discovered. 1649. p. 8.  in the late times notably discoursing) That Religious people are so ready to catch and carry aspersions from man to man, and not have so much honesty and charity as first to be fully satisfied of the truth of that which they report; and that the taking away of men's good name should be thought no sin among them. But truly (saith he) I do not wonder at it, for where notional or verbal Religion, which at best is but Superstition, is Author of that little shadow of goodness which possesses men, it is no marvel they have so little hold of themselves; for they want that innate, imbred virtue which makes men good men; that pure and undefiled Religion, which truly denominates them good Christians, and which only gives strength against temptations of this nature. This is the great defect of your Philagathus, who hath so little even of that innate honesty which is in many men short of Christianity, that he doth far worse things than those which displease him in others. He finds fault with me for looking so far back as 1642, and that when there was a good cause for it, and when I quoted good and undoubted Authorities: but he most basely drags in a vagrant story 
s P. 140. ; which his Ignorant Readers may think to be piping hot (as he speaks in another place) out of the Pulpit, when, in truth, it is so old that he knows not the Original of it. For the Crocodile of Time, and the Dog of the Discourse, were laughed at long before he saw the University. With such stories, I doubt not, he is able to furnish us without any number, though we had not his word for it. Every boy can do as much. And rather than fail, he, for his part, is so unworthy, that he will stoop to believe Libels, and thence increase the long list of his tales, which he hath mustered up.  N. C. 
You wrong him surely. He cannot be so base.  C. 
It is as I tell you. Witness what he writes, p. 121. It hath been said, you have been teaching two year, the reason why we are Christians: as if all the Congregation had been Infidels. This was said, the truth is, of a Minister in the Town (whom he, good man, all along takes for me) in a Li●el lately laid under the Church Bible; as I have heard from those to whom this very Gentleman hath reported it. And if you saw it all, it would be singular testimony how much some, at least, of your people improve in those great Virtues of arrogance, self-conceit, wrath, bitterness and reviling: And how welcome such a Reprover as this will be to them, who shall only whine and say, Verily, It is very uncomely, you may easily imagine. For I am informed withal, that there are other lies there, and several expressions as modest and humble as those (and of the same nature) which one used in his Prayer in the beginning of the late Wars before the Minister of the Parish; Good Lord, Good Lord, deliver this Congregation from this man, who is unlearned, unpowerful, unprofitable: or as these; O Lord, thou knowest good Lord, that we never had the truth preached among us until now—  N. C. 
Now you are going to tell us the faults of our Prayers. But Sir; if you would not be thought to be a perfect Atheist: If you would not contract a hundred fold so much odium, as did he that wrote the Gangrene: If you would not have your name rot and stink among all good men throughout all generations; if you would not—  C. 
Pray spare your Conjurations (a lurry of which I remember in his Book 
t Pag. 100, 101. ) for they are of no efficacy at all. I am far from thinking you the only good men that must embalm our names, or else they rot and stink. That's a proud imagination of your own, which will never enter in my thoughts. Are you the great Chamberlains of the House of God? (as the Bishop of Galloway 
u Defence of his Apology. p. 44.  speaks) Are all the vessels of Honour in it committed to your custody? Are you Keepers of the Book of Life, wherein the names of the Heirs of Grace are all registered? Have you the Balance of the Sanctuary, or is the Fan put into your hands to separate chaff and corn? speak no more so presumptuously: and let not such arrogance come out of your mouth: lest it prove true upon you which St. Austin hath to Parmenian; Because you have lost patience, and make haste before the time to separate Chaff and Corn, accounting at your pleasure some men abominable, and some approved, you have declared yourselves to be but chaff, and most light chaff, carried out of the compass of Charity by the wind of your own Pride. But be what you please, know that I despise your proud vaunts: and am not afraid of your big and scornful looks, I matter not your hatred, nor regard your rash and supercilious censures. As for the odious names wherewith you brand us, they are but a trifle in my account. I have other reasons to keep me from such employment, about which I never had so much as one thought.  N. C. 
Not a thought? He saith, there is Book coming out, supposed to be yours, consisting of a Collection of Nonsense and Blasphemy, said to have fallen from some men's Prayers.  C. 
I know nothing of it, no more than himself. But whatsoever he hears, supposes, or imagines, must down presently in Print. And that's the way to m●ke great Books in an instant, and likewise to raise great wrath in the people's hearts against me, out of mere surmises.  N. C. 
You have shown your inclination this way, by what you have told me just now.  C. 
You show your ignorance. Those are passages in Print already, which you may find in a Book 
x Haeresiogr●p●y p. 66.  of Mr. Ephraius Paget's; who tells you, the first of them was uttered in his own Pulpit, and in his presence, concerning himself. And I could send you to other Books, where from goo● Authority you may find many more. But I hate the way of this Scribbler, who relates stories that have no body to be their vouchers: for it is a course neither Wise nor Honest. Who is there that cannot invent a thousand out of his own head, if he be so minded? And how shall the people know, that the truest are not mere devices, when they know not so much as the person who reports them. If I had been guilty of such a fault (who have referred you to Authors in Print for all the matters of fact that I have related) he would have told me of it on both ears; and cried out, as he doth upon the occasion of something which he saith, I did but insinuate: Show me such a thing in Print, or quote me such a passage out of their Sermons 
y Pag. 81. . But he hath one rule for himself, and another for other folk. We must write out of Books in Print; but he from News Merchants, or his own Imagination, never considering that we are not so dull or unacquainted with the world, but, if we list, we can give him, as they say, a Rowland for his Oliver; Nay, repay him with such stories, I assure him, and those so well attested, as shall make every vein in his heart to ache. Let him put it to the trial, if he please to go on at this rate: For the present I'll let him alone, and only follow him to hear what he hath further to say out of his Apocrypha; for certain and authorised Histories he hath none. It is thought, saith he, to me 
z Pag. 82. ; that you yourself in those days (for some reason that is suggested) had not so great a zeal against all that which some men call Sacrilege, as now you pretend to have; and were so far from reproving others for it, that— What's the matter now that he makes a stop? Is he choked with his tale, and doth it give him the lie in his throat? Or, Is this a wicked Art he hath, of telling half a spiteful story, and reserving the rest, that the people may make it up with what they please?  N. C. 
He speaks not confidently, but only tells you it is thought from something that is suggested, etc.  C. 
So it was thought, and more than suggested, that a right Reverend Person kept a great deal of the Poors money in his hand, when he never so much as fingered it. If the Father of Lies suggest things, will you presently divulg them and send them abroad? Nay, must your evil surmisings be made so public as to be put in Print?  N. C. 
That I confess was ill done.  C. 
It had not been so bad, if he had told you all that was thought, and the reasons upon which it was suggested; but now he leaves every body to think all the evil of me that their ill nature can invent. As they will suppose from his words, (who never guesses aright) that I was a Reprover of others in those days, (when the truth is, I was then but a boy, newly come from School) so they will be apt to imagine I was, at least, an applauder of that which I now condemn. But the most quicksighted of that lying faction (I hope I may have leave to use those words of a very great person 
a His Highness' Prince Rupert in his Declaration. 1642. p. 3. ) will never be able to find the time, the place, the man or woman, when, where, and before whom I signified the least approbation of so great a crime, as I always accounted it. Let Philag. himself, when he hath more knowledge of me, be sent to all the places where I have lived to trace my steps, and when he returns, let him put the worst he can hear of me in Print, I shall not blush to read it.  N. C. 
You are very confident.  C. 
Not that I shall escape all slanders; for I have already met with good store: and have been admonished also to expect them, if ever I went about to promote any public good, or to remove any old, or newly settled evil. This every body can teach us, it is so common. Let such a man (saith one of the late times 
b Fountain of Slander discovered. ) resolve that according to the good he would do, so shall his aspersions be. Nor let him think, when time and his constant actions have worn out one, or two, or ten aspersions, that he shall be therefore free: but if he continue to mind their good, he shall be sure to find new ones, such as he never dreamt of, nor could imagine. Such an one is this now cast upon me by Philag. who snarls at my heels very often, and would fain fasten if he could; but now barks perfectly in the dark, (as a worthy person somewhere speaks) without the help of Moonshine to direct him in his snarling. He may as well accuse me of Witchcraft, as of any thing of that nature; or say that I worship the Man in the Moon, for it is as true, as that I so much as favoured any thing that any men call Sacrilege.  N. C. 
He cries you mercy, if he be misinformed, Ib. p. 82.  C. 
Let him ask mercy of God, and repent of such gross hypocrisy as makes him wantonly play with a man's good Name; and when he hath abused it, think he hath made amends with a word, saying, I cry you mercy Sir.  N. C. 
Have you not spoken concerning others?  C. 
Not without good ground, and great cause: to vindicate ourselves from their proud contempt; and the odious name of Time-servers, and to take from them that unjust reputation which they affect, of being more knowing and more godly than all order.  N. C. 
You might have put amore candid construction upon their silence 
c Ib. p. 82.  about Sacrilege.  C. 
He can tell me nothing to alter my opinion, but only that it is possible their silence might spring from no other cause, but this, that they had not the same notions and apprehensions concerning Sacrilege, as some have; or that they did think, that Church-lands would not have been so disposed of as they were, etc. A very doughty Champion! To have such an extraordinary motion to undertake your defence, and to be able to perform so little when he comes to the business; is a very great shame.  N. C. 
Why? Is this nothing?  C. 
What doth it amount to? It is possible there were other causes; and it is possible, I have hit on the right; and more than that, it is possible he may think so when I have told him the unlikelihood of his. Did they not know how many people had of a long time gaped for the remnant of the Church-Revenues? Were they not informed by one of their own Authors in Queen Elizabeth's time, that too many of their Scholars coveted and craved them with great hunger? While they hear us speak (saith the Author of the Ecclesiastical Discipline) against Bishops and Cathedral Churches, it tickles their ears, looking for the like prey they had before of the Monasteries. Yea, they have in their hearts already devoured the Church's Inheritance. They care not for Religion, so they may get the spoil. They could be content to crucify Christ, so they might have his Garments. Our Age is full of spoiling Soldiers, and most wicked Dionysius', who will rob Christ of his golden Coat, as neither fit for him in Winter nor Summer. They are cormorants, and seek to fill the bottomless Sack of their greedy Appetite. They do yawn after a prey, and would thereby to their perpetual shame purchase to themselves a Field of Blood 
d It is quoted in Bishop (than only Doctor) Bancrofs Sermon at Pauls-Cross. 1588. p. 9 who admonished them elsewhere, that by their out-cries they might farther impoverish the Church, but they should be sure to be little better for it. . Thus T.C. more sharply inveighed against the wickedness of some who then followed them, than I have done against any now. He made bold to say, the Age was full of such irreligious men, as I think abound now; and yet I must be thought wicked, ungodly and malicious; for such a supposal, and he, no doubt, a zealous reprover of sin. But let that pass. This so early and open declaration of the evil Spirit that then ruled in the Enemies of Bishops, should have taught and admonished all your Ministers, one would think, in such a tumultuous and audacious Age as ours, to take all occasions to warn men against such wickedness. For that the chief of them esteemed it so, I make no doubt; whatsoever this Ignorant Apologist surmises. Mr. Rich. Vines I remember, very honestly, gave the Parliament a touch of it, by citing (in a Sermon not Printed) a place concerning Sacrilege out of Mr. Hildersham on the 51. Psalm. But he tells Mr. Baxter, in a Letter to him 
e Which he Printed upon another occasion in his third Disput. about Ch. Government and Worship. p. 350. , that it did not please; and adds withal; that most are of opinion, that while the Church lies so unprovided for, the donations are not alienable without Sacrilege. And therefore it is most probable the Annotators were of that mind; and so should have endeavoured at least to prevent the farther growth of this profaneness by some cautions against it; if not told that High Court, with the freedom and plainness, (which they seem to affect) what the Lord Bacon hath said; viz. That the Parliament of England owe● some satisfaction for the many injuries and unjust oppressions formerly done by them to the Church; and therefore should be far from going about to increase that debt. There was a pious man, one Mr. udal 
f Minister at St. Austinsgate. , that ventured an undoing in this cause: being sequestered, and more than that, put into the First Century of Scandalous Ministers, for writing a Book called Noli me tangere: In which, saith Mr. White 
g Cent. 1. Example 22. , he charges the Parliament with Sacrilege. This was all they had to say against him; together with these words, That he affirmed the great Reformers of the Church now were Hypocrites (for as for the last clause, that he otherways expressed great malignity against the Parliament, it was but a form, you know, then in use, when they had nothing against a man that deserved such cruel usage) whether he said the latter words or no, I know not, but I am sure he is falsely charged with the former: for he did not say the Parliament was guilty of Sacrilege, as appears by the Book it self, which I have read 
h Printed, 1642.  He only shows the danger of this sin, and what judgements have fallen upon those who were guilty of it, even upon Sacrilegious Princes. And his instances are such as might have given his Majesty more just reason of anger than the Parliament: of whom he only says this. That no man should think the nature of the sin altered, if the alienation of Church-Lands be done by a National-Assembly of the Estates in Parliament: and desires them rather to think it a worthy work and befitting a Parliamentary Reformation, to restore the Tithes to the proper owners, than taking away the residue of their Lands. Gravely Praying withal to God, that he would grant them wisdom to see the injustice and impiety of the people's desires this way, who for the most part are led by wicked passions and distempers, rather than by Reason and Religion. But it seems it was so dangerous a thing then, only to name the word Sacrilege with abhorrence, that the poor man lost his Living, and his good Name too, (and suffered otherways most lamentably) for desiring them to have no hand in it; and praying God the ungodly desires of the people might not hurry them to that, to which perhaps they had no inclination of themselves. This was enough to terrify all that had not great integrity and courage from meddling in this matter—  N. C. 
In which I wish Philag. had not meddled, but let it pass; for it doth but make you bring out old stories, which I love not to hear of.  C, 
Then you think, belike, that it was very discreetly done of him, to pass over so great a part of my Book as he hath left untouched, and only snapped at it here and there; though, I must confess, I look upon this as a part of his disingenuity and partiality. For why did he not plainly confess the truth of what I said in many places, and pray you to reform? Why did he not bewail the folly wherewith this poor Nation is overrun by your new invented phrases 
i Pag. 34, 35. of Friendly Debate. ? The kicking of your people against reproof 
k Pag. 17, 18. the rest you'll easily siad. ; their reviling of Common Prayer; their bold pretence to familiarity with God, when they only let their tongue lose without any restraint; their unreasonable antipathies to a Form of Prayer; their headiness, and ungoverned passion; their conceit of themselves and their own gifts; their rash censures and gross superstition; their contempt of Governors, and malepertness toward their Superiors, the licentiousness of their tongues, and rejoicing in iniquity, their appropriating to themselves the name of Godly, their murmuring, impatience, wicked and scandalous reports of Bishops without any foundation; with a great heap of other things, which this brisk Gentleman very nimbly and confidently skips over? It seems, your people have no list, or leisure, to think of these matters. There are higher and more glorious Discoveries to take up their thoughts; and they leave this dull, low Morality to us. The slaying of the Witnesses, the downfall of Babylon, the calling of the Jews, etc. are fit subjects for their meditation, not these poor things which concern their Duty. Thus Mt. Greenham observed long ago 
l Fifth part of his works, Chap 74. p. 797. ; It is often the policy of the Devil, to make men travail in some good things to come, when more fitly they might be occupied in good things present. And experience, saith he, teacheth, that many meddle with the matters of the Church; who are senseless and barren in the Doctrine of the Now●●irth.  
In one thing indeed I must commend his ingenuity, in that he fairly acknowledges, they break his Majesty's Law to get a living 
m Read p. 5. . This is an honest confession; and thus far he did well, in not excusing the business with a company of Religious Phrases. If he had also told us that a great reason of his writing against me, was to get a little money; I believe he had come neare● the truth, than when he tells us of his zeal for God. But he could not hold long in a good mood: For he is so kind and good natured to his own party, that he thinks, not only fear of wanting a maintenance, but want of good company fit for a Scholar is sufficient to warrant their breach of the Law 
n Pag. 7. ; and at last he talks also of opportunities of doing good, as if there were no opportunities, but only in prohibited places: Nay, he asserts this most pernicious principle, that they are not bound to obey the Laws unless they be forced 
o P. 6 Of the Book and Pref. p. 14. ; that is not for Conscience, no nor for fear of wrath, but when Justice lays hold of them, and is too strong for them.  N. C. 
Why? Do you read that Christ left Nazareth till they risen up and thrust him out of the City, Luke 4.29, etc. 
p Ib p 6.   C. 
Nor do we find there was any Law against Christ's being at Nazareth. Why do you not blush at this vile and beggarly way of arguing? Do the Novices he talks of, that come frisking into the Pulpit with the shells on their heads 
q P. 284. , ever discourse thus weakly? Is it easy to find a Boy of any parts, that would reason after this childish fashion? If he reason no better in his Sermons, than he doth in his Writings; God help the people that are instructed by him. They are like to be abused even by the holy Scripture; and to have many an untruth confidently imposed on them, with the Word of God to avouch it: And therefore had better, a great deal, be taught by one of those striplings, if humble and modest; than by this bold frisking Senior.  N.C. 
I am convinced of the impertinency of this Quotation.  C. 
And what doth the rest of his Discourse in that place amount unto but this? that when men have no temptation to break a Law, he hath nothing to plead in their behalf: but when they have, (though it be but small; as the want of good company, or the like) he desires they may be excused. An excellent Casuist! By this device all the world may be saved; for, What man is there that sins without a temptation? And, if men may break Laws for fear of want, I pray, what shall become of living by faith on God's Providence, which he would have us think you commend as much as we, when there is no visible means of subsistence? What did our Saviour mean by taking up our Cross: a Doctrine I put you in mind of at the very first, but which he cunningly slips over? Might not the old N. C. have used the same plea that he doth, and have preached till their mouths, as we say, were sowed up? Or, Were they ignorant of their Christian Liberty? And, Have you received a New Light, whereby you see a man is free from Laws when he is in straits; and need not observe them, to his own inconvenience, unless he be compelled by force and violence? Well, I see what value such men as these set upon the Peace of the Church of God, who care not how it is distracted, so they may be but sure to be maintained. They have lost the Spirit of the old Christians, who chose to endure any thing rather than a breach should be made in the Body of Christ. The words of Dionysius Bishop of Alexandria in his Letter to Novatian, (called there Novatus) are very remarkable: as I find them alleged by the Professors and Doctors of Aberdene 
q Duplies 1638. pag. 11. out of Euseb. l. 6. Hist. Eccles. c. 45. , to the Ministers that came to urge the Covenant upon their people. You ought rather to have suffered any thing, whatsoever, for avoiding of cutting asunder the Church of God. And Martyrdom for keeping the Church from Schism is no less glorious, than that which is suffered for not committing Idolatry. And in my opinion, also, it is greater: for, in suffering Martyrdom for not committing Idolatry, a man suffereth for one, even for his own Soul; but here a man suffers Martyrdom for the whole Church. Mr. Calamy also, I remember, prefixes this sentence out of St. Cyprian, to a Sermon of his before the Lords 
* Decemb. 25. 1644. ; We prefer the Peace of the Church before Martyrdom. It is worse to make a Schism in the Church than to sacrifice to an Idol. And in his Dedicatory Epistle to them, he citys this passage out of Ruffinus 
* L. 2. c. 9 , that Nazianzen seeing there was like to be a great disturbance, unless he yielded up his place to another, broke out into this speech; God forbidden that for my cause any differences should arise among the Ministers of God: If this tempest be raised for my cause, take me and throw me into the Sea, that so it may cease. But there is an easier way to Martyrdom discovered now by the great Philagathus, who teaches men to do as they list, that is, to break the Laws, and keep separated Meetings where they think good, and yet they shall be Martyrs, and he is able to write their Martyrology.  N.C. 
Those must pass for careless words.  C. 
I think he doth not mind very much what he writes; for if he did, he would not have left such an odious Character of you, as he hath done.  N.C. 
Of whom?  C. 
Of such as you, who have no more love and gratitude to those who have served you, than to suffer them to be in such straits as tempts them to sin against God. What strange creatures doth he make you by this discourse? Are your people grown so bad (after you have extolled them so much) that they will not relieve a poor helpless Minister, unless he will break the Laws for their humour? Will they do nothing for them in remembrance of their old services? Are they so hard hearted that they have no pity on the poor, no not those of the Sacred Profession? and the honester and more conscientious they are, shall they find the less favour? O wicked Generation! Those you account ungodly, I am confident would be more charitable. A number of our people would have pitied and relieved them, I am sure, if they had taken the same course that their Forefathers did. I profess myself one of those that would have cheerfully succoured such good men, who meekly suffered for Conscience sake. This would have made a friendly agreement between us; and rendered them men worthy to be beloved. And when our Governors had seen them do all the Laws require as far as they could, and not crossing them when they could not obey them; it might perhaps have inclined them to hearken to motions of accommodation; which is not to be hoped for, I am sure not to be desired, by bold violation of the Laws, and high contempt of our Governors.  
But I must not let him pass on this fashion. He hath made such a long declamation about their straits, that I must ask you, Did you know what it was heretofore to have a Wife and a great many young Children, and nothing wherewithal to maintain them? (they are his own words 
r Pag. 5. , which I use, to let him see his boldness in mentioning such things) Th●● Sir, let me tell you, was the case of several Ministers who were worse used than any man is now. For they were not barely turned out of their places, and as his great Friend 
s Dr. Bate Elench. M●tuum. 1. part. p. 59  assures us, spoiled of their Houses, Goods and Revenues, under the name of Sequestration, but shut up divers years in close Prisons and Dungeons, in Ships also, even in the heats of Summer; and there without hearing of their cause, or any accusation preferred against them, macerated with nastiness, fastings, and watch. Who was there then allowed to contrive Oaths in their own words, which this man desires? And were they not debarred the benefit of teaching the Children of their Friends? (a very contemptible office in this Gentleman's account 
t P. 21. It would make your heart bleed to see them serve as poor Paedagogues. ) and banished also out of whole Counties (and not merely sent five mile from a place) as I told you heretofore 
u Friendly Debate. p. 219. , but he would not be pleased to observe it?  N.C. 
Good Sir, tell us not these sad stories over again; we are sensible of what you say, and sorry for it.  C. 
If you be, I will forbear to give you such a list of suffering Ministers as you do not think of. But why doth this man so audaciously affirm, that their sufferings were not so great, as really they were; and make the world believe that now your Ministers suffer such things, that it is to be lamented with tears of blood?  N. C. 
You bid the N. C. show what hath befallen them that should deserve the name of hard usage, pag. 27. of your Book 
x So he writes, p. 231. .  C. 
It should be p. 217. And here now gins his lying and juggling (of which you shall hear more afterward, if you will be so patiented.) For I said, that deserves the name of Persecution, and such Persecution as is grievous, nay, intolerable. Consider, I beseech you, what you are to think of such a man as this. Will you take him to be either so conscientious, or so wise, as he would persuade the world be is, who boldly changes the words of a Book, which he tells you is known in Court, City, Country, and Universities 
y P. 292. ? O●e would think he is past feeling 〈◊〉 these matters, and cares not what he doth, if he can but promote the Cause, and make the Ignorant believe my Book is Answered.  N. C. 
He was willing, he tells you, to decline the word Persecution.  C. 
Was he so? He should have declined also the falsifying of Books, and the altering other men's words (especially in such a case as that which we debated) which he should first of all have sincerely represented, and then said what he pleased. But in stead of this, he impudently chaps and changes my words more than once, all after as he thinks good. You say, (these are his words, p. 246.) the N.C. do but fancy themselves to be great sufferers: which he had said before also, p. 231. And if you look further, he will tell you, that I manifestly affirm they have no cause to complain of any hard things which they suffer at this day, p. 250. And in one or two places my words are dwindled into these, You can tell them, they do but fancy themselves to be under sufferings, pag. 248 
z And in the Preface. pag 31. . And yet my words were, Since you fancy you are persecuted, when you are not, &c: p. 190. & 237. So he is contented to report them in one place 
a P. 237. , and no more, that I can observe: For though he declines the word as much as he can, he plainly signifies that he believes the thing, telling us upon this occasion of their being Martyrs, and of a Martyrology he could write, as I before noted. But to pass by this fraudulent way of writing, which he is often guilty of; let you and I debate this business together if you please.  N. C. 
With all my heart; for it aches, when I think of what he saith of their sufferings.  C. 
But you must give me leave to note, before we enter upon it, that the nature of man is very apt to complain, and none more than yourselves. Who, I have always observed, are a very delicate and nice sort of people, that make a lamentable noise if all things go not after your mind; nay, put the finger in eye, and cry Persecution, upon very small causes. And therefore we must not be too forward to believe all that this man tells us.  N. C. 
You make them like little Children, that cry before they be hurt.  C. 
They partake very much of the quality of little ones in that particular: who are so tender, that they cannot endure so much as the scratch of a pin. They must have all their desires granted, and not be restrained in the least of their Liberty; otherwise, all the Nation shall ring with the doleful noise of Persecution, Antichristian Persecution. Immediately your people fancy they prophesy in Sackcloth, and are in a Sackcloth condition, and carried into the Wilderness; even those who live in as good houses, and wear as good Chamlets, fine Cloth, and Silks, as any body else. For which I can find no cause, but the high esteem they have of themselves, which makes them look upon all the favours which are done them as small; and any the least cross as exceeding great. What? the precious Sons and Daughters of Zion to be thus used! Is it not a sad thing, that they should be persecuted to the very gates of Zion, yea into the very gates of their Trade?—  N. C. 
I shall not endure this language.  C. 
It is your own 
b W. B. Seas. Truths. p. 113. and others. . But if you will not hear it, I will let it alone.  N. C. 
And all your Stories which you are going to tell.  C. 
There was a Book 
c Army Harmless. pag. 2.  indeed, which told us of many persons who suffered in extremity, and others like to do more, for their Non-comportment with the Presbyterian way; though they judged the same to be manifestly sinful and altogether repugnant to the Word: Do you believe this complainer?  N. C. 
No, no. They called any little thing, suffering in extremity—  C. 
And why should we not think, that Philag. is of the same humour now; since others—  N. C. 
I pray come to the business, and tell me no more of these stories.  C. 
I'll omit the most displeasing to you, and only tell you, as a proof of this complaining humour, that there was a Party in the late Usurpers days, who talk● as loudly as Phil. can do, of the Persecution of the Saints, the crucified Cause of Jesus; and said, that the Rulers, Priests, and Soldiers had gotten Christ upon the Cross once more, through the High Treason of the Judas' of the Times. And what was the matter think you? Nothing but this; a few persons were secured; and some were cut short, as they tell you, in their Liberties 
d Image of our Reforming Times. Praef. & p. 45. an. 1654. . Nay, so grievous it was to some to be crossed and contradicted and brought a little lower in the world than they were; that they would not only tumble the whole Nation upside down, but go cross even to their own public professions, rather than not have their wills. For this, I remember, was the plea of those who turned their Masters out of doors (after they had called themselves a few days before, and seemed to take a pleasure in styling themselves, the Faithful Servants, the Faithful Army of this Parliament) that if it were not done, it would be the undoing of some Families. And how many think you were they, for whom all that noise and bustle, and confusion was made? Some Officen of the Army tell you that, in these words 
e Humble Representation to the Lieft. Gen. Nou. 1. 1659. pag. 7. , We are not ignorant of the great argument why this Parliament was interrupted. What? Must nine Families be undone at once? No, by no means. Have a care of such precious Creatures, and deal tenderly with them; Those mine may be more worth than all the Nation beside, at least have a better opinion of themselves, and therefore, What is there to be considered so much as their concerns?  N. C. 
I have heard enough of this, enless it were better. Now to the purpose.  C. 
This is much to the purpose. For you see what a stir some men are apt to make, if they be in danger to be less than they were before; and how much they prefer the satisfaction of a few before the public tranquillity. Such men you may be sure will murmur and repine when they are brought down indeed; as thinking they receive a great injury when they are not in place of power and dignity, and are used hardly, when they do not rule and govern us.  N. C. 
But this is nothing to those who have lost all.  C. 
But it shows that we must not presently believe men's condition so bad, as their complaints represent it. For those nine would not have been undone, if they had lost the places they then held. And I must tell you, it hath been an old trick, as to multiply the numbers of those who are disaffected to the Religion and Government established, so to magnify their sufferings. They have always made a grievous moan, and cried out of hard and cruel dealing, if but a little punished, that might move the pity of the people towards themselves, and their hatred towards their Governors. Thus Campian, I remember, exclaimed and complained of the Queen's rigour in putting him twice upon the rack, which, he said, was worse tha● hanging, (just as Philag. saith, burning of them is a shorter suffering than starving, p. 80.) when as he had rather seen than felt that punishment, as the Lieutenant of the Tower told him; Being able, after he came from it, to go to his lodging without help, and use his hand in writing, and all other parts of his body; which he could not have done, had he been put to that punishment with any such extremity as he spoke of. But what will not bold men say, especially such men as he? whose inpudence (as Mr. Alex. Nowell, and others told him) was very great, in charging her Majesty's Government with cruelty, when the Authors and Professors of his Religion had so horribly tormented many for the maintenance of ours 
f True Report of the Disput. had in the Tower with Edm. Campian. Ang. the last, 1581. Printed 1583. . The very same, you cannot but see, may be said to your Complainer, who treads in the same steps, and magnifies as the worth, so the sufferings of some men, as if the like was never heard of. Burning is as merciful, or rather more, than that condition of which they are in danger—.  N. C. 
Come; do not repeat his words, but confute them if you can.  C. 
First, then let us note where your Philag. makes your Minister's sufferings, and hard usage, to begin; and that is at the King's Restauration.  N. C. 
No sure.  C. 
It is clear from the place, where he computes the number of Sufferers, after his fashion 
g P. 233. ; and supposes that the cold dew of an Ejection fell upon two thousand N. C. Ministers, at and before Bartholomew-tide, 1662. Which he explains in his Preface (though it needed not) where he tells us they have been out; and so thousands of souls starved for want of the sincere milk of the Word, almost ten years 
h Pag. 25. . This is very dutifully done, ●o make their Miseries commence with his Majesty's Happiness. And a marvellous honesty there is in this Doctor's Principles, who reckons their removel from other men's Free-holds for a part of their hard usage; and tells us they were cast out of that, which they ought to have freely restored. What is this but to justify all Sequestrations?—  N. C. 
Not a word of that, I beseech you.  C. 
He plainly discovers those Principles are in him, which his Majesty told us should be rooted up. But I am content now to examine the truth of his complaints concerning their great poverty, (though it will not prove, as you shall see, that they are hardly used) and I would have you desire him to tell you, how they agree with the Boasts which one of them makes, in a Book called A Plea for Ministers in Sequestrations 
i An 1660 p 13. ; where we are told; It is well known (that's to be observed) many of us (that's to be observed) many of us need not, nor did need their Estates for a subsistence. The greater number of us, (mark that 
* For it auswers his Quest. p. 7. where are those rich ejected Ministers to be sound?— ) through the mercy of God, could boast of as great Birth, Estates, Friends, and offers of Preferment, as they. We having many of us ourselves Live and Preferments to bestow, and some bestowed upon deserving men. Of this he was very confident and well assured, else he would not have uttered these scornful words; I pray God that we may never feel Prelatical compassion to us and our families.  N. C. 
That was not very modestly said.  C. 
The rest of his words require Philagathus to shut his mouth a little, and not to gape so wide in his complaints; for a considerable number of the poor starved families he speaks of, are cut off from the List by this Swaggerer. As for those that remain, I have great cause to believe that he overlashes very much, when he saith, there are many hundreds of families that have hardly meas to fill their bellies, or clothes to cover their nakedness, and in short, are in such a condition, that it is to be lamented with tears of blood. Some, I believe, there are in a very mean condition, and so there are among the Conforming Clergy. But that there should be so many, and so miserable as he speaks, we must have better Authority to make us believe it, than his Word. Nay, it is not easy to believe (when we consider what he says elsewhere) that there are any at all. I rather look upon these grievous and doleful complaints, as an easy Art to draw the people's compassion to them (as was said before) and to raise their displeasure against their Rulers, who have reduced them to these straits. And that you may not think this is a new thing, I pray call to mind the clamours of some in the late Times, when they could not have their will, and how disproportionable the Cause was to the Cry. Hear, how the followers of John Lilburn mouthed it. In the mournful cry (as they called it) of many thousand poor Tradesmen, ready to perish 
k Or the Warning Tears of the oppressed. 1647. . O that the crowings of our stomaches could be heard by the Parliament and City. O that the tears of our poor famishing babes were bottled. O that their tender Mother's cries for bread to feed them, were engraven in brass. O that 〈◊〉 pined carcases were open to every eye. O, our hearts faint, and we are ready to 〈◊〉 in the top of every street. O you Members of Parliament, O you rich men in the City, O you Soldiers, show bowels of mercy! O hear how our Children cry Bread, Bread, Bread, and we now once more with bleeding hearts cry pity, pity, an oppressed enslaved people! etc. One would think that these were the last groans of a dying multitude, and that in the next Bills of Mortality we should have heard of thousands starved, or fain down dead in the Streets, since they found no relief. But they were alive and alive like. They meant not to take their leave of the world yet, but stay to bellow on this manner. For which there was no cause at all, but only this; that they could not have such Liberties for the people as they desired. This was the ground of their mournful cry, which seemed to be written (as they were told 
l Declaration of John Lilb. and some of his Associates. 1648. pag. 56. ) by some of the Professors of Rhetoric in Newgate or L●dgate, whose practice of that kind of Oratory had made him as great a stranger to Truth, as to Blushing. Such is the Rhetoric of Philagathus, who tells us of starving and famishing, rags and tatters, killing all the day long, and crucifying, tears of blood, and heart bleeding: and repeats these as often 
m Preface, p. 25. Book, p. 21, 46, 80, 149, 22●, 229, 231, 233, 237, 247, 283, etc.  as they did their O, O, O; boldly affirming, or rather presuming, in General terms, without any particular proofs. For, where are those starvelings, and crucified persons? Where are the Martyred or tattered creatures, which will wring from us tears of blood? Why are they not brought forth to the view of some pitiful eye, as was then said? Spend no longer your breath, but let all this be seen; for the view gives deeper impression than mere hearsays. And when they are produced into open sight, we shall go near to set as many honest and worthy Conformists before you, who by reason of their great charge, or small maintenance are in as mean a condition, and live as hardly as they. The truth is, this language of Philagathus (as that Declaration said) looks more like the ebullition of Wine, than the cry of want: and therefore sometime we find him in another Tune, telling us, that the people generally retain the same good thoughts of them that they did heretofore 
n P. 149. . If so, Why should they want now more than in time past; since good thoughts will keep up good affections, and those will open the heart, and that the purse?—  N. C. 
Ask me no Questions: for I can say nothing positively in this matter.  C. 
Nor he neither: For all is built upon Suppositions, as I told you. And you may further observe, that his so many hundreds of families, of pious and learned Ministers that have hardly me●●, &c, p. 234. by that time he is got to p. 247. are dwindled into the, almost starved families of scores of N. C. Ministers, pious and able, etc. When he hath better considered of it, he may come down to Dossens, which is a less fall by much than from Many Hundreds to Scores; he could not tell how many, or how few. Nay, his Dossens at last may shrink into some few families, who (to use his own word) it is possible may be as tattered and ragged as his Writings. The truth is, his Penruns on so carelessly, that he drops any thing into his Paper that comes in his way; be it true, or be it false; be it certain, or only doubtful. For when I desired, that your Ministers would not suffer their people to fancy themselves under persecution 
o P. 237. of Fr. Deb. : He presently answers with much pertness, would it were in our power to make them know themselves to suffer nothing, but if men be turned out of all, &c. 
p P. 283. of his Answ. , it is a hard matter to make them insensible. He had such a quick sense of himself (as he tells you presently) that he could not think of any thing else. But, because he had lost his Living, imagined the people, who come not to Church, are turned out of all, which was never before now heard of.  N. C. 
It is a mistake.  C. 
And so is his whole Discourse about Persecution; which I said could not be pretended for a cause of their Separation, nor hath he said a word to show it is so grievous and intolerable as to be alleged for that purpose. He talks of their suffering hard things 
q P. 249. ; but, what is that to the business? especially if you consider, that the worst things that are inflicted on them, are the effect of their Separation and contempt of Laws, not the cause upon which they separated, as he would have the world believe. For till they left our Churches, and set up Congregations of their own, they were only deprived of their places, not imprisoned, or otherwise punished. Now, I pray, consider seriously; Did ever any man whom you account sober, call it Persecution, (which was the thing I spoke of) to suffer Deprivation, for not conforming to Public Order? No; it is unjustly called hard usage, and to complain of this, as this Whiffler doth (though the condition of some men become very sad thereby) is to complain of all Churches, even of your own, when you had any power. It hath always been thought necessary in all places, that there should be some Order kept in the Church of Christ: For which purpose they have found it as necessary that there should be some Rules and Laws; which signify nothing without Penalties to enforce them; and they as little, if they be not inflicted when men transgress. So that in conclusion, it is as necessary to punish those that will not submit to the Laws, as it is to have Public Order. The French Churches 
r Eccles. Discipline of the Reformed Churches in France translated into English. 1642. Chap. 5. Art. 31.  are so sensible of this, that they have provided in Discipline, That if one or more of the people shall move or stir up strife, or contention, to disjoin and break the Union of the Church, concerning some Point of their Doctrine or Discipline, or about the method, manner, or style of the Catechism, of the Administration of the Sacraments or Public Prayers, and the blessing of Matrimony; and will not promise not to spread aught of their opinion in any manner or way whatsoever, till the Synod hath heard them, they shall be censured as rebellious persons: And in case they will not renounce their Errors after all means tried to convince them, than they are to be cut off from the Church. But in case a Pastor, or Elder 
s Ib. Art. 32. Concerning the Consistory. , trouble the Peace and break the Union of the Church, or cause any strife, or contention, about some point of Doctrine or Discipline, (which they have subscribed unto) or about Administration of the Sacraments, or the form of Catechism, or Public Prayers, and Benediction of Marriage; and will not yield to what the Classical Assembly shall determine, he shall presently be suspended from his charge and employment, to be proceeded against at the next Provincial or National Synod. And if any Minister teach false Doctrine, and will not forbear after Admonition, he is to be deposed: as also those who are not obedient to the Admonitions of the Consistory; or are convicted of Heresy, Schism, or Rebellion against the Ecclesiastical Order 
t Ib. Ch. 1. Coacerning Ministers and Pastors. Art, 45. . As for those who thrust themselves into the Ministry in Countries and Places where the Preaching of the Gospel is already pure and lawfully established, and will not desist when they are warned of it; they are to be cut off quite, and proceeded against as the Synods judge fit: together with those that follow and adhere to them, if after the like warning and exhortation given to them, they do not forbear and forsake them 
u Artie. 55. . This Order and Discipline, we are told at the end of the Book, hath been resolved and concluded in no less than 27. National Synods from 1559. to 1637. The places, the years, and the days of the Month being all there named. Now, what hath your prating Philagathus to say to this? Is this Persecution, or hard usage, or is it not? If it be not so in them, there is none among us. For we do no more than they do; and, if those who are deprived for Rebellion against Ecclesiastical Order happen to be very poor, and fall into distress; we can help that no more than they.  N.C. 
I am loath to condemn those Churches.  C. 
Then acquit us. Or if any list to condemn both, a great many more must fall into the same condemnation with us. Even at Frankfort in Queen Mary's days, those who dissented from Mr. Horn, and Mr. Chambers, etc. found fault with them, for desiring to be of their Church without subscribing their Discipline: a thing said they, which you yourselves would never grant to others 
x Troubles at Frankf. p. 85. .  N. C. 
Pray do not run so far back.  C. 
I need not: for it is sufficient to let you know, that you condemn yourselves when you make all these complaints against us. You were very peremptorily resolved heretofore, that the Magistrate might suffer none to instruct the people but such as he thought fit. Who can deny it, said a Writer 
y Apology for Mr. J. Goodwin. 1653.  in the late Times to be a privilege and duty of a Master of a Family to admit only such to teach in his house as his Conscience shall be satisfied in, and warrant him to receive? or, to come a little nearer, will the Churches distinguished by the name of Independents and Anabaptists admit of any person wholly unknown, or known to be grossly ignorant a scandalous, to teach in their Congregations, without their approbation and assent first obtained? If not (as it is presumed they will not) let no man scruple, to allow th●● thing to be the Right of the Magistrate a a public Parent, in the disposal of public Places and Revenues to persons to be approved by himself, or such a he shall think meet, to be trusted therein, which is claimed as a right by every private Parent.  N. C. 
We are not against this.  C. 
Why do you complain then, as I you, not the King and those he appoints, should judge who are fit to be employed in teaching his subjects.  N. C. 
You know our Ministers are fit enough, but they cannot conform 〈◊〉 some Laws.  C. 
Hath his Majesty power to exact Laws for the better ordering of the Church, or no?  N. C. 
I love not to be questioned about these matters.  C. 
You did not stay to be asked the Question heretofore, but declared the Magistrate not only might, but aught to establish Ecclesiastical Laws, and more than that, compel men to observe them, or else be gone 
z Answer to A. S. 1644. p. 12.   N. C. 
That's too quick work.  C. 
His Majesty says so too: and bids you be gone only to your own homes; there you are free. But you were so in love with compulsion heretofore, that you called it the life and power of your Government. At least, this was the sense of a great number; Witness that Declaration of the Kingdom of Scotland, in which they complain, that Religion was not settled according to the Covenant, in life and power 
a I find it in the Answer to it, and to the Commiss. upon the New Propos. 4 Jan. 1648 p. 7. , i. e. as the complaint goes on; Liberty was granted for all ways of Worship, and it was ordained, that none should be forced to the establishment.  N. C. 
Would it were so ordained now.  C. 
That wish would have been better, when you had power to do what you desire. But than you wished quite contrary; and indeed, ever thought it requisite to good Government, that the people should be tied strictly to the Laws, and punished, according to their fault, if they transgressed. This was so far from cruelty, or hard usage in your opinion, that it was thought useful and necessary, not only for the General good, but his particular benefit who suffered. Mr. Walter Travers 
b Answ. to a Supplicatory Epistle of G. T. p. 24. , a person much esteemed by your Forefathers, declared long ago, That if the Magistrates did not command and compel the people by severity of Laws and Punishments to serve the Lord, what ignorant and ungodly persuasion soever they have to the contrary, they shall not only become guilty of not doing the duty God requires of them; but also no Christian Estate or Policy could stand. For this would soon be every man's answer, in case of being enjoined any thing concerning God or Men, how holy or just soever it were that did dislike him, that his Conscience is against it.  N. C. 
I never heard of any good that hath been wrought on any by these punishments.  C. 
But others have; as the same person tells you 
c Ib. p. 18. . For both many others are hereby kept in duty, that they do not in like sort fall away; and who can tell what it may please God to work even in them hereafter by this means, which have not yet profited by it? Sure I am, it hath done good to many in times past, who by this means have been recovered from their undutiful disobedience, unto a godly Reformation. And what if it have not profited some, must the Medicine therefore be neglected 
d St. Aug. words Epist. 48. , because the Pestilential Contagion of certain persons is Incurable?  N. C. 
No. But it is hard to conceive how such severe courses should bring men back to the Church.  C. 
You could understand it heretofore without any difficulty; and thought you could demonstrate, that they were very powerful means 
e Modest defence of London Ministers Letter to the Assembly, licenced by Mr. Cranford. 1646. pag. 22, 23, 24.  to bring in wand'ring souls. The reasons you gave were these. Some worldly lust, whether it be content or discontent, being usually the ground of Heresy or Sects, deprive men of that content which was the ground of their Error, and you strike at it in the very root. Many adhere to a Party rather out of Policy than Conscience, whom, when their design fails, you will see fall off like leaves in Autumn. It will easily appear then, how a Prison, or other penalty (these are your words) may work upon a Sectary. First, it will remove the Beam of Carnal Content which blinded his Eyes. Secondly, It may set Conscience on work, as rough usage did Joseph's brethren's. Thirdly, It may free a man from distractions and seducing company, that he may have leisure and opportunity seriously to bethink himself of his grounds, etc. which thing by God's gracious assistance may work a strange alteration in him.  N. C. 
Dimness of sight can never be recovered by stripes.  C. 
That's true. But yet he that shuts his own eyes, or blindfolds himself with his hand, may by Correction be made to open the one, or to take away the other. A sharp Medicine also instilled into the Eye will remove this Pin and Web, better than all the fairest speeches and strongest reasons in the world. However, if Bedlam cannot reduce such a one, yet it may restrain him from infecting others.  N. C. 
You are very severe methinks, I did not think you had been still of so harsh a spirit.  C. 
I only repeat your own words, that you may see what your reasonings were, when you came to settle a Government among us. For my part, I love clemency so much, that I think we may say of it, (in the words of one of your Writers in those Times) as of fair weather, it is pity it should do any harm. But if is do, it is a cruel pity 
f Mr. John Good wins Queries Questioned. 1653. pag. 13. . He hurts the good who spares the bad. Yet I delight in meekness and gentleness, and as I would have been glad to have seen more of it practised by them who most plead for it, so I would to see no need of any thing else to be used now. Nor should the Magistrate, though he have so large a power, go to the utmost thereof, but upon extreme necessity. For his end being the same with our Saviour's, not to destroy men's lives, but to save them, I suppose him to be the wisest Magistrate who can most easily attain it, and govern the Church and State, with the least punishments. For severity of Laws is an Exprobration of the Magistrates want of care, in not preventing that extremity of offence which doth require them. All which considered, nothing seems to many wise and moderate men more conducing to your good and the Magistrates honour, than a due execution of those Laws, you are now under; lest by your wanton contempt and bold breach of them, you make it necessary they should be changed for more rigorous: which God forbidden. Why do you shake your head?  N. C. 
To hear you talk on this fashion.  C. 
There are none of you but would say the same, were you in Authority. You would not leave men at liberty to do as they pleased: And though some particular persons suffered that could not conform, you would say, it is better it should be so, than the Public Order be disturbed; and that those small punishments would prevent greater; and that they were beholden to you for your strictness, since without it they might grow so wild, that you should be constrained to severity. For you did not think it safe heretofore, so much as to connive at those who would not be obedient to the established Government and Discipline. That, as Mr. Case told the Lords, was next door to a Toleration. It is a Toleration in Figures, though not in words at length 
g Sermon before the Peers. March. 25. 1646. . Nor are the Independents of a different mind, who keep an Uniformity, when they have power in their hands, as we see in the Churches of New England; where they agree in their practices, though not in their Principle: Some being for that way of Church-Administrations, as it is called, by the Direction of particular Rules in Scripture, which seem to them very clear, but others, to whom those Scriptures seem to be mis-applied, conforming to it upon the more General Rules of Scripture, viz. of Charity and Christian Peace. Which is according to a Maxim planted in the Nature of things (as we are told by one here, in a Preface to a Book of a New-England Teacher 
h Mr. James Noyes of Newbury in N. E. Temple Measured. 1647. ) which do often act contrary to the Rule of their particular Nature, for the Conservation of the Universe. And were we, saith he, as well grounded upon it as our Brethren of New-England be, we should both the more prefer the Peace and Tranquillity of this Church (which is a General good) above our own private inerest; and the less censure them, who upon the same Principle have sometimes taken (and will doubtless have the wisdom always to take) just Animadversion upon them that cause Divisions, and are disturbers of the Church's peace; though they may haply plead their Conscience, and transform themselves into Angels of Light.  N. C. 
Conscience is a tender thing, and must be tenderly dealt withal.  C. 
So Mrs. Hutchinson said, and yet they banished her out of New England for all that.  N. C. 
I thought they had had a great regard to Conscience.  C. 
The very same which his Majesty hath here, who tells you just as the Court told her; Your Conscience you may keep to yourself, but if you shall countenance and encourage those that thus transgress the Law (a small fault you think, who transgress it yourselves) you must be called in Question for it: and that is not for your Conscience, but for your Practice 
i Proceeding of the Court holden at New-Town. 2 Octob. 1637. pag. 34. .  N. C. 
What Law do they transgress? The Law of God?  C. 
That was her Question; and this was their Answer, which may serve you. Yes, the Fifth Commandment, which commands us to honour Father and Mother, which includes all in Authority.  N. C. 
There is not one example in Scripture to justify such punishments as those, for difference in judgement.  C. 
Still you will run on in your mistake. You may hold your own judgement, (as they told her partakers when they alleged this) so as the Public Peace be not troubled, or endangered by it; and no body will trouble you. For the King doth not challenge power over men's Consciences; but when they do such things as discover a corrupt Conscience, it is his duty to use his Authority to reform both 
k Ib. pag. 28. . And if they complain of his severity, and say, he uses them hardly; they add a new fault to the former, and further endanger the Public Peace, by estranging as much as in them lies, the hearts of the people from him.  N. C. 
It would be better therefore, if such Laws were never made, as occasion people all this trouble.  C. 
Now you run back again. Some Laws we must have; so, that if these be altered, others must come in their room. And though you may be better contented with them, yet others may as much dislike them as you do these. And if their disobedience be not punished, it had been as well, or better, not to have punished your disobedience before; If it be, than the persons are changed, but still there will be sufferers.  N. C. 
It is very true. And, What would you have men do in this case?  C. 
What? Be as patiented as they can. For it is an excellent thing, as some body I remember speaks, when men who cannot be active without sinning, (as they judge) are passive without murmuring. Of this Christ and the Primitive Christians have set us an example: and it is glorious in itself, comfortable to those in whom this virtue is, and the best way to thrive and prosper, and attain their end. The old N. C. being deprived, took this course, and neither thought it a just cause for a separation from us, nor complained after this Scribblers manner, but quietly submitted to the sentence. Have you not seen the Protestation made by those who were suspended or deprived in the third of King James?  N. C. 
No.  C. 
I'll tell you then two or three Branches of it. We hold, say they 
l protestation of the King's supremacy, etc. 160●. ●●anch. 8th. ; that Kings by virtue of their Supremacy have power, yea also, that they stand bound by the Law of God, to make Laws Ecclesiastical, such as shall tend to the good ordering of the Churches in their Dominions, and that the Churches ought not to be disobedient to any of their Laws, etc. But in case the King should command things contrary to the Word, they declare 
m Branch. 9th.  that they ought not to resist him therein, but only peaceably to forbear obedience, and sue unto him for grace and mercy; and where that cannot be obtained, meekly to submit themselves to the punishment. And further 
n Branch. 11th. , that he may by his Authority inflict as great punishments upon them for the neglect of his Ecclesiastical Laws, as upon any other subjects, etc.  N. C. 
I wish however, that the punishments had been less—  C. 
Or they more patiented Christians—  N. C. 
For than we should not have had these sad complaints of sufferings, hardships, and miseries.  C. 
And Persecution—  N. C. 
No, he will not call it so; though he confesses the N. C. in Scotland live in a hotter climate than we do here—  C. 
We understand his phrase very well, They are intolerably persecuted, though you be not.  N. C. 
He only says, such severity being used against them, as would make a man's heart to bleed 
o P. 244. of his Book. .  C. 
Yes, if Fame may be trusted, (as he adds) which we know hath brought many a lie to him, and is as little to be trusted as himself. For you may be sure of this, that they are better used a great deal, than they used others heretofore.  N. C. 
Whence shall I have that assurance.  C. 
From a little Book newly come forth there, and said to be published by Order, where in answer to these complaints of Severity, I find these words 
p modest and free Conference between a C. and a N. C. ●●ant the present distempers in Scotland. 1669. p. 11. and more you may read. p. 60. . I must so far justify the rigour you have met withal, as to show it is far short of yours. The people are required to do nothing, but live peaceably and join in worship, whereas you made them swear to you. And the Ministers are not made swear to maintain the present establishment, (mark this) and to root out the contrary, as you did: they are only required to concur in Discipline, and to promise submission to Episcopacy. A great piece of business! most grievous and severe Impositions! What will they conform unto, who cannot away with such small things as these? Must such reasonable Laws as these be changed, only to humour them? If they be not; then there is no help for it, they must be deprived. And if they are so far from submitting to Episcopacy, that they set themselves against the Government, they may with the greater reason be sharply dealt withal; who are so fiery as to oppose that which is so innocent. But yet I can hear of no such terrible proceed against them, as this man talks of: For the forenamed Book tells us 
q P. 32. , whatsoever noise they make about Persecution, it is more on the side of the C. than of the Nonconformists. For to an ingenuous spirit, it is a far greater trial, if he be not above such things, to be aspersed and railed at every where, and made the hatred of the people, than to suffer a little in the world. Which suffering also, I must tell you, though it may conduce in the end much to their good, yet it puts their Governors to a new trouble to inflict it, after they have been long troubled, nay, persecuted by their perverseness and fierce oppositions. For tell me, I pray you, (they are the words of St. Austin 
r Against Cresconius quoted in this case long ago, 〈◊〉 plain Declar. 1590. pag. 68 ) when a man that is in a Frenzy doth vex the Physician, and the Physician binds him; whether do both persecute each other, or no? If that be not a Persecution which is done to his disease, then certainly the Physician doth not persecute the frantic or madman, but he persecutes the Physician. His Application is, that the Penal Laws of the Princes were as the Bands of the Physician to bind the frenzy and furious outrage of the Donatists: Who made such a clatter there about their Persecution, and grievous sufferings, as this Philag. and others do among us. O, said they, when any Law came forth against them, now your Bishops have inflamed the Rulers to persecute us. They have made them our Enemies, to deprive us of that liberty which Christ hath left us. We ought not to be compelled: our wills were made free, and you may not offer a force to them. And so they run on in long Declamations against the Catholic Church for using them so cruelly, for all the world, like this bawling Writer of yours: who I think, in my Conscience, would have been more modest, if he had not been so gently used.  N. C. 
Phy for shame!  C. 
I know what I say; there is always less murmuring, and men are more thankful for the liberty which is allowed them, when Laws are strictly and constantly executed. But now the Nation is filled, as he confesses, with clamours and noises of their great sufferings and miseries; which he repeats in a most doleful manner, I cannot tell how often. This he gins withal, p. 5, 6, 7. And again we meet with it, p. 79, 80. And thrice 
s P. 149, 220, 229.  more, before he comes to a tedious set discourse about it, p. 231, etc. In which he makes their contempt a part of their suffering, (a thing which they pour on us far more than we on them) and Excommunication also, which is commonly for their obstinate contempt of the Court; nay, the want of those degrees in the University which they may have a mind unto, and of Dignities and Offices, are thrown in to make up the tale (though he pretends that he cares not to mention them) whereby we may see how sorely they are hurt who have list and leisure to think of such things. And yet he hath not done with it neither, but we find him bemoaning their condition again 
t P. 283. : as if like the poor Samaritan, they were stripped of their raiment, wounded, and half dead. And once more in his Preface; and in how many other places I cannot tell: For to read the whole Book, is no less toil than to travail through long Deserts a foot, without any company; which makes me loath to go through it again. It is to seek fruit in the Garden of Tantalus, to look for one leaf, that will give a man either profit or pleasure.  N. C. 
This Pride doth not become you.  C. 
I can see nothing of that in this censure. But if there were, you of all other people should wink at it, who by his own confession, are the proudest men in the Nation.  N. C. 
O abominable! He never was so mad yet, as to grant you that.  C. 
What think you of those words. If the Non conformist at this day be thought too high and too proud, he only groweth like Camomile, because he is trod and trampled upon; for of Camomile it is said, the more it is trodden on, the more it grows.  N. C. 
I remember them, p. 281. But know not what you will make of them.  C. 
No? It is a plain demonstration, according to his reasoning, that they are grown intolerably high and proud; because they are (as he would have you believe) intolerably afflicted and distressed, p. 249. A most excellent improvement of Affliction! and arguing much of the Power of godliness!  N. C. 
Come, Sir, jeer no more at godliness; for you have done it too much already. Your Book is an exact method and platform to extirpate practical holiness 
u Preface. pag. 12. — What makes you giggle in so serious a business?  C. 
I cannot but laugh a little at the laborious folly of this man's spite. This is a mere device to draw the people's minds from attending to what I say, and to stir up their passion against me, as an Enemy and hater of godliness.  N, C. 
No; He doth not think you to be such an Enemy to Religion, as your Book would seem to import 
x Ib. pag. 15. , but rather hopes you are a good man 
y Ib. p. 41. and Book. pag. 3. .  C. 
That's the thing I was going to say. He overthrows all his accusation, in two words; by granting me to be Religious, and judicious too p. 105. For how is it possible, that a Godly man should contrive a way most effectual to root up godliness, and—  N. C. 
Stay.  C, 
You will revoke this favourable opinion of me, now that you see whither it will carry you.  N. C. 
He saith, he hath a great desire to constrain himself to think, that you may possibly be wise in Solomon's sense, that is, fear the Lord, p. 41.  C. 
He was, I observed, at the last, very fearful, lest he should have judged too well of me; and therefore, as you say, doth but constrain himself, nay, hath only a great desire to constrain himself (but, it seems, would not do it) and that but to think that it is possible, I may be a good man. With which I am very well contented, and if you please, I will give him all his good hopes of me back again, having no need at all of them. It is sufficient for me, that he acknowledges, he is far from thinking it was my design to overthrow piety, though he is sure it is the end of my Book 
z Preface. pag. 12. . For mark, I beseech you, the absurdity of this. How is it possible for a man by mere chance, having no such design in his head, to form so many Aphorisms, Maxims, and Stratagems, all tending to one and the same end, viz. the subverting of godliness and introducing impiety; and that so exactly, methodically, and pertinently 
a Ib. pag. 15. , as nothing can be more fitted for this purpose? Make out this to me, if you can, for I protest to you, I am utterly to seek how this should come to pass. There must be a design of the Author in it, or else he could never have done it with as much skill as Campanella shown, when he went to work for the extirpating Protestantism, and settling Popery throughout England 
b Ib. . Nay, no Engineer, he tells you, could have given more proper counsel how to slight any fort, or strong hold, and how to levelly it with the ground, than I have given, how true Religion may be plucked up root and branch.  N. C. 
These things, I confess, do not hang well together.  C. 
Malice we see wants wit. And after all his labour, he hath but brought forth the Apothecary's Beast, which Julian the Pelagian upbraided St. Austin withal. A creature of wonderful strange properties, as he made his Patient believe, and promised he should see the next day, which before morning came had eaten up herself. For, if I went so judiciously and accurately to work to overthrow all godliness, it must be my design to overthrow it; but he is far from thinking that; and therefore there are no such exact Aphorisms and Stratagems, but his better thoughts have destroyed those vain imaginations, unless you can believe that Books may be made by shuffling so many Letters together; or Batteries and Engines raised, with throwing so many skuttles full of dirt, and so many bundles of sticks together on a heap.  N. C. 
But the God of this world, I remember, he says, so for the present blinded your eyes. p. 15.  C. 
What? That I should contrive all this and never know it? The good man hath plunged himself so deep in a contradiction, that he is fain to fly to the Devil to help him out. But, I pray, who gave him Authority to stretch the Devil's power so far, that it may be thought to do the same upon a Believer, which the Apostle saith, he did upon Infidels? And what is there that can blind any man's eyes, but Covetousness, Lust, Ambition, Anger, Hatred, or some such evil affection or passion? Which if the Faith of Christ have not purged out of my heart, I have no desire to constrain myself to think that it is possible I am a good Christian. The very bottom of the business is this: It is not godliness, but themselves for which he is so much concerned and keeps all this stir. For the Question is not, whether we shall all hearty and earnestly study to be Godly, that is, to love and obey our Creator above all things, according to the Gospel of Jesus Christ; but whether you be the only godly, or so much beyond all others, as you imagine? and whether that be the Power of godliness, which is vulgarly called by that name. This I denied; and this made him so angry. Notwithstanding which I still believe, that many among us, whom some of you make little account of, are more thoroughly and substantially good, than many among you, upon whom you liberally bestow that name; who value themselves more upon the score of keeping Days, repeating Sermons, talking of Religion and Experiences, than for Justice, Charity, speaking Truth, Peaceableness, Meekness, Obedience, and such like virtues, to which I find them very great strangers. Now in stead of acknowledging the emptiness of the former without the latter, and how much the poor people have been cozened by forms of Religion, and canting Phrases, which some of yourselves have confessed, when it would serve their turn—  N. C. 
Where did they acknowledge it?  C. 
Some Officers of the Army told the rest, that setting a part days for seeking of God, when the way is not good, will not hereafter blind English men's eyes. Doing things unwarrantably, and then intituling God to them, as they will never the more be owned by him, so they will be never the more acceptable to discerning men 
c Humble representation to the Lieft. Gen. Nou. 1. 1659. . Thus also the purest of you all thought it no profaneness heretofore to unmask the hypocrisy of some great Zealots in Religion (as they thought it) and expose their canting to scorn. To omit Mr. Edward's, (for brevity sake) the Author of the Image of our Reforming Times 
d Or J●hu in his proper Colours. 1654. p. 11, 12. , set out, you know whom, under another name in this manner; Jehu will have a word for all his Actions, and do all according to the mind of the Lord. O Heavenly man, whose tongue is tipped with Scripture, the Experiences of the Saints, and the Revelation of the Prophets! But now (as I was going to say before you interrupted me) we have found a man that would fain blind the eyes of Englishmen as much as ever; and in stead of confessing honestly, as others have done, that a great many walk in a vain show and image of godliness, who deny the true power of it; he amuses you with a long discourse of a Design laid to overthrow all Religion, root and branch: And for that end, presents you with a great many Maxims and Aphorisms, composed with much art to that wicked purpose: Such as these; Let there be no Godly Discourse; Let keeping of Days of Fasting and Prayer be jured; Let mirth and jollity be in encouraged. Teach men to distrust their spiritual senses; with divers others of the same Nature. Which are none of mine; as every one may see that can read a Book: But he throws in your faces the snivel of his own nose; and would make you believe it is not the excrement of his brain, but of mine.  N. C. 
How came such a word to drop from your mouth?  C. 
Are they uncivil?  N. C. 
I doubt they will be thought so.  C. 
They are the words of Mr. Baxter 
e Postscript to his Book of the True Catholic Church. pag. 283. , without any alteration, to another man who accused him absurdly; and may as well be applied to this. Who after he had filled a great part of his Book with such senseless stuff as I now meant oned, makes a long snuffling Preface to the same effect. And some of your people, I am told, receive it with as much contentment, as if he had come out of that Country, where (if we will believe a story 
f Lucian. Ver. Hist. Lib. 1.  like his Discourse) the dropping of the people's Noses, is sweeter than Honey.  N. C. 
You did well to say some; for all have no such good opinion of it.  C. 
There is no man, that being puffed up with a good opinion of himself, speaks with confidence and zeal, but will find some admirers; though his Noddle be lighter than an Oak Apple; and as void of wit as Cockles are of meat in the wane of the Moon. A sad thing indeed it is, that the world should be troubled and abused by some men of emptiness and noise: but so it always was, and we must be contented with it. Nay, grave and solemn persons, are sometimes carried with a furious zeal to accuse their opposites, of such impieties as never entered into their thoughts: and will make their Books speak, what the Authors never so much as dreamt. Mr. Calvin and other Reformers (it is possible Philagathus may know) were charged with depraving and adulterating the sense of the Holy Scriptures, which give testimony to the Deity of our Saviour Christ. And there is one 
g Feu-ar●entius his Notes upon ●he Fragments of ●renaeus. ●ag. 508.  who hath given us a Beadrole of them longer than that of the Aphorisms, which this new zealot hath fancied to himself, and form out of my Book. In his Comments also upon the Epistle of Sr. Judas, writing on those words, v. 4. Ungodly Men, he tells us among other things, that Calvin would have the Holy Trinity, neither to be adored, nor invocated 
h Comment. in Epist. ●udae. ●595 ●ag. 87. . And upon those words, denying the Lord Jesus Christ, he gives us a Catalogue of the Old and New Heretics, who opposed the Deity and Majesty of our Saviour; and after Simon Magus, Menander, and the rest of that Rabble, come Luther, Calvin, and their followers, as men that preached and writ much against the Mystery of the Trinity, the Majesty of God the Father, and the Deity of Christ and of the Holy Ghost 
i Ib. ●ag. 117. . But what need I go so far back for instances of this kind, when it is but a few years ago, since Mr. Baxter was solemnly accused for a Papist by Mr. Crandon? And Mr. Eyre of Salisbury endeavoured to persuade the world, that when he wrote against the Antinomians he meant Antipapists 
k Confess. ● Faith. ●ag. 6. ; just as this man would persuade you, that when I writ against N. C. I mean Religious people, and such as oppose profaneness. Nay, he made such a Monster of him, as if you should conceive the Body of a Horse to be joined to the Head of a Man; for he said, he was a Socinian, Papist, and Jesuit: And, that he was not only a down right Papist, but one of the grosser sort; and that he subtly endeavoured the Propagation of Popery, and all his pretences to the contrary were but Jesuitical dissembling; and lastly, that no Papist spoke more of Merit than he did. Others undertook to conjure the Devil of Pelagianism out of him, as he himself also tells us 
l Disputations about the right t● Sacraments. pag. 520. . And another 
m Vindication of ● Sir Hen. Vane. 1659.  accuses him of calumnies and invectives against the most eminent Protestants; reckoning up withal eight godly men (whose names he mentions) that had writ against him. And I find mention in Mr. Baxter of three more (whose names are not there) beside, Mr. Blake, which make them up a dozen. And that you have 13. to the dozen, I may cast in Mr. Will. Lyford, who put him into the black bill of those who are guilty of Errors and Heresies, because of some opinions of his about the sin against the holy Ghost. Nay, some boldly published him to be a Subverter of Fundamentals (observe it) even then when he was constrained to be as confident, that he should subvert the foundation itself, if he should think otherways 
n Confess. of Faith pag. 111. . What need I add more, to show the mad zeal of some Ignorant people, than these memorable words of his? I look not to scape the fangs of such excepters, if I say, that I believe in God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; for no doubt, but some of them can find Heresy, or somewhat that countenances it, in this 
o Appendix to the Disp. of the Sacraments. pag. 487. . They love to quarrel with every thing, when they have once taken a pique at a Book: and let your writing be never so innocent, they smell some dangerous design in it. For which purpose, you will scarce find a man who hath a better nose than this caviller; who, either for want of understanding, or else through passion and hatred, misinterprets and perverts every thing that he meddles withal.  N. C. 
You make him a strange man.  C. 
I'll prove it to purpose, before we have done; and hope that all his clamours, will be of no more force to make you believe, that I have laid any platform to batter down all godliness, than the many Volumes writ against Mr. Baxter will persuade you, he is a Papist, a Subverter of the Faith, and calumniator of Protestant Divines. For there is no more impiety in my Book, than there is Popery in his; nor will any body have such a thought, unless it be such as come to suck poison, and food for their censuring opinionative zeal, out of the Books they read 
p They are his words concerning one of his. .  N. C. 
Some men love to be doing—  C. 
Though it be but to disturb those things which lie well enough already. And they fancy they are doing some mighty service to the world, merely because they put themselves to a great deal of trouble. Witness this busy man, whose pains to remove this stumbling-block out of the way (as he calls it) is altogether as idle, as was the labour of Marchetto Piombino: who going to Rome to seek a Master, and lighting by chance upon a stone in the way, began to spurn it with his foot; and in this employment spent so much of his time, that when all his companions returned back, they found him still troubled about this stone; which he was resolved, he said, to spurn as far as Rome, and there thrust it into the walls so far, that it should never more annoy such strangers as travailed thither.  N. C. 
Pray do not imitate him; but let us pass by this occasion of offence, which hath turned us out of our way I am sure; for I was going to tell you, that you are thought to have arrived to the highest degree of Pride.  C. 
To walk, you had better have said, on the Battlements of Pride.  N. C. 
Pray hear me seriously: for it is no laughing matter.  C. 
If the power of laughing, as a very serious and holy Divine 
q Dr. Jackson of the Cath. Church. pag. 176.  of our own said a great while ago, proceed from the nature of man, and the nature of man consist in Reason, it will be very hard for any man to refrain laughing, that hath but so much reason as to consider the vanity of this man's Conclusions. The case is this; Because in writing a Discourse between two persons of opposite persuasions and parties, I represented the one commending his Parish Priest (whom he must be supposed to hear) or rather vindicating him from that contempt and scorn which the other party poured on him, he infers that I commend myself, and boast of my own reason and skill in the holy Scripture. He had best go and teach his Mother to suck; instruct the University in a new way of drawing conclusions; for no body ever learned any such Logic there. And till this upstart Reformer set Pen to Paper, any body might make two men maintain a Dialogue as long as he pleased, of matters disputed between the Parties they adhered to, and never be thought he spoke of two single persons only. But the sport of it is; Our new Doctor will have that which is said of the N. C. in our Debate to reach to all and every one of that party, or else it signifies nothing; but what is said of the C. must be confined to a single person, and that's myself alone. In good time he may make an incomparable Expounder of Books, if he do but follow (as he hath begun) those Rules which passion and spite will dictate to him, and never let a sober thought enter into his head. For (mark it again) after he hath so often stretched what is said against the N.C. to every one of them, he can find in his heart at some turns to restrain my words to one single person; even then when I speak in the plural number. Such is the perverseness of his humour, that he will interpret what I say, quite contrary ways, if thereby he can lay hold of any occasion to cavil, and load me with the ill will and hatred of his credulous Companions. As, for example, when he takes notice of what I said concerning the black and white caps upon some N. C. Ministers heads 
r P. 88 of his Book. , he presently tells you (in spite of all that he had said himself, and of the largeness of my words) that it is strongly conjectured who is the mark I aimed at, and that it is his good head-piece I am more offended with, than his caps and lace. But he hath always as ill luck in his conjectures as in his reasonings. For I had no particular man in my thoughts, I assure you; and, to confess the truth, spoke only from what I remembered since I was a boy, and from their pictures in Books, not from any observation since I was a man. As for any of their headpeices, I neither fear nor envy them; though they were as good as Mambrino's golden Helmet. Only I must remember you, that men of such like brains as his, have as little judgement in headpieces, as that D●n, who took a Barber's basin, for that impenetrable Helmet. Nor can I look upon this whole invention of his otherwise, than as a malicious piece of his folly, which would reproach me as effectually as he was able, and lay all the blots, which his little wit could devise, upon my reputation. But I may rest contented with it; for far better men, than I shall ever be, have been thus dealt withal by ill nature, when it could only cavil, even then when they wrote no Dialogues. The Reverend Professers and Ministers of Aberdene, for instance, when they only told the Ministers who came to urge the Covenant, that there were other means and more effectual than their Covenant, to use for holding men from Popery, mentioning in particular, extraordinary Humiliations, frequent Prayer, amendment of Life, diligence in Preaching, and searching the Scriptures 
s Reply the Eleventh. 1638. ; they presently received this Answer to their Reply, You have taken an ample testimony to yourselves of pains in disputing, writing, and preaching, and in doing all things that can be expected from the most zealous; of frequent prayer to God, of humbling yourselves before him, of your holiness of life and conversation, etc. As if they had arrogated to themselves some singularity in using these means, when they only said, that there were such means which might and ought to be used, not that they were eminent above others in the diligent use of them. If either they or I had said as this man doth, there is one of great moderation, but he shall be nameless, 
t P. 225. of his Book.  etc. you might have suspected we meant ourselves, and wrote our own commendation, which is very familiar with him, not only in this Book, but also in others; where he tells you, the whole tenor of his conversation and practice hath always proclaimed him a moderate man, of a reconciling spirit, and of an healing temper 
u Preface to London 's Resurrection. . Without all doubt: He hath given us an ample testimony of it in this New Book. In which, me thinks, it looks far more like boasting than any thing I have said, to tell us in how short a time he finished this great work; having in less than six week's space 
x Pag. ult. of the Sober Answer.  demolished a great many Fortresses, Bulwarks, and Strong holds; and carried into captivity every notion that exalted itself against Truth and Godliness, defeated and confuted so many Stratagems, Maxims, and Aphorisms, as he hath mustered up in his Preface; and yet he hath not mentioned all, as he himself assures you 
y Preface. pag. 24. . There are many other exploits that he hath performed besides these; He hath rectified mistakes, given an account of the N. C. opinions, of the reasons of their actions, of the method of repairing breaches; and by the way told us, the Hinge of the Controversy, the Knot of the Question 
z Preface. pag. 40. , with many fine knacks beside; all which he hath accomplished sooner by a third part, than a Bitch can bring you forth a litter of Puppies. Who could have said more of him, than he hath said of himself? If this be modesty, it will be hard to find a man that can compare with him i● this great virtue. He is the fittest Messenger that could be sent to buffet me for my spiritual pride: a disease, I perceive, so incident to men of his Education, even when they have very little to be proud of; that he imagines we cannot live without it, but must rather swell to such a bigness, that we are sai●● to ease and vent ourselves in boasting. But I must take leave to tell you, that my breeding hath been otherways; having been taught from the beginning, to lay the foundation of all true wisdom and goodness i● humility of mind, and not to think it so great a business, if I understood a little more than the vulgar people. And since he constrains me to say a few words of myself, I shall, without entrenching, I hope, upon any rule of modesty, add thus much; that of all other follies, I find myself the least inclined to that which he accuses me of, being still disposed at this day rather to be a learner, than an instructor of others. And as I have not one jot the worse opinion of myself, for all that he hath blattered against me, so I have not one jot the better opinion of myself, for all the praise which, he saith, others bestow upon me. I have other and truer measures of myself than he or they can take of me: and know very well, that I am just the same man I was, before I heard either of the one or of the other, and that they can neither add unto, nor take away from my stature.  N. C. 
Did you not think too highly of your abilities, when you thought no match fit for you, but a whole Assembly of Divines?  C. 
Thus Mr. Baxter was told heretofore that his words implied, he took himself to be more judicious, holy, and experienced than the Assembly 
a Disput. of the Sacraments. pag. 522. , and I know not how many more. Which Answer was as good as any, to make those who would not be at the trouble to try all things, to think him to be both proud and ignorant. But I cannot choose but wonder a little at the impudent folly of this man in repeating this charge so often 
b Pag. 81, 129, 195, 196. . Do not they take the liberty when they list to dispute against whole Councils of greater men? Doth not this little Sophister himself take so much upon him, as to reprove the Universities of this Kingdom, for negligence and injustice too in bestowing degrees 
c P. 241. where he saith, they let Papists slip into Degrees & withhold them from N. C. How he can make good his charge I know not. ? Nay, Did they not think themselves fit to reform all the world, and hope that their Gospel-Covenant should fly to the ends of the Earth 
d Continuation. pag. 148, 149. ? What Infallible Chair then, I beseech you, was there in this Assembly, that all must submit unto; and no man date to open his mouth against? I know the usual Prayer of your Preachers was, when they first met together, that God would show them the pattern in the Mount 
e Modest offer. pag. 1, 1644. . And Mr. J. Saltmarsh himself addressed an Epistle to them with this Inscription, To the most Sacred and Reverend Assembly; and gins it with this compellation, Most Sacred Divines 
f Exam. of Mr. Fuller's Sermon. . As if they looked for some new Discovery from Heaven, that should make them so many spiritual Kings and Emperors, from whose Sovereign Authority none might appeal. But they did not long keep this Veneration even among yourselves. To omit the rail of Martin's Echo, and others: This very man, who held them for most Sacred, and thought their shade most comfortable and miraculously healing, within a few years forsook them, and ran from under it, for fear of a yoke which he saw them laying upon his neck. It is no small encouragement, said he, in the year 1642. That I sit like the Prophetess under the Palm tree, under such a shade as yea● selves. Whatsoever weakness may appear in my assertions, your Patronage will heal them. For 〈◊〉 they brought forth the sick into the streets, th● at least the shadow of Peter might touch s●●● of them. But this Song of Praise, was turned by 1646. into sighs and groans; and he told them, you call for a y●ke, which neither we n●● our Fathers were able to bear 
g Saltmarsh Groans for Liberty. 1646. . Then they were looked upon as so many Tyrants; and some were so bold as to challenge them all to dispute with them 
h Compass. Samaritan. p. 58, 59 . And one feared not to tell them in the conclusion, that, an Army or Kingdom of strange opinions were brought forth, and they had not laid any one of them upon their backs, by Argument 
i Answer to the Decl. of the Kingd. of Scotl. 4 Jan. 1648. pag. 6. . But you can wink when you list at those things among yourselves, which you call by all the odious names you can invent, when you do but fancy them in another man. Being very much like the Lamiaes, whom you have heard of, I make no doubt, the story is so common; who carried their eyes in their head when they were abroad, and at home closed them up in a box. We may not so much as smile at your affected language, no, not reprove your canting and gross abuse of Scripture phrases; if we do, you say we are profane, scurrilous, blasphemous, and what not? but you may abuse the most innocent things, and sport with them as much as you are able, and this passes for pleasant discourse, and sanctified wit. There was a very sober and discreet Petition, for instance, from the County of Kent, to the House of Commons 
k Printed with many other by order from his Majesty. 20. May. 1642. , in which, after their thanks for those excellent Laws, which they had obtained from his Majesty's goodness, they prayed among other things, that they might enjoy the solemn use of the Liturgy quiet and free from interruption, scorns, profaneness, threats and force; and that Episcopal Government might be preserved, Papists suppressed, differences concerning Religion and Ceremonies determined in a Lawful free and National Synod, etc. In short, there is not one offensive word in it but only Liturgy and Bishops, which brought all those scoffs on it, which were wont to be thrown on them. A grave person (as he would seem to be by his Book 
l Late Covenant asserted. 1643. pag. 24. ) entertained you with a mock Petition, after this dull fashion, Humbly showeth, That since it was well with your Petitioners when like People like Priest, they would go to the Alehouse with us, and we could offer cakes to the Queen of Heaven—  N. C. 
Now you mock him in Scripture phrase.  C. 
They are his own words, I assure you: and you cannot but know how much your people love to abuse us in the Holy language, and to pick out such expressions as may signify us to be Idolaters. Philagathus himself is so used to it, that he doth it, even when he doth not know it, as I charitably believe. W. B. saith he, would not have said a word of the Bowl, and the Pottage, Had he been to prophesy at Bethel, or at the King's Chapel, as Amos speaketh 
m Sober Answer. p. 264. , that is, at Whitehall; where, one would imagine, the Golden Calves, are set up and worshipped.  N. C. 
He had no such meaning, I am confident.  C. 
It's well if others do not so expound it, who know your usual meaning in such like words. But let us go on with the other Gentleman— Our hearty petition (saith he) is that you would be pleased to give us our Bishops again (who thought no more of preaching than a Cobbler of ploughing, and had no more care of Souls than of their old shoes) and our Service Book, so full of good Prayers, which we can say, as our Parson doth, though half asleep, or quite drunk; and that we may have leave to be drunk and dance on Sundays, a time designed by our good Bishop for that purpose—  N. C. 
O abominable! No more, I pray you.  C. 
There is enough to show the wick●d Spirit that was then among you. On●● for a more full demonstration of it. I ●●all add; that after he had mocked as hedge as he thought good, than he thinks 〈◊〉 sanctify all at the last with a little ●●nking breath which he spends in a few ●●ghs, saying twice or thrice, Poor Souls, ●●●r Souls! If my head were a Fountain I could weep over these, and if my heart were as it should be (i. e. not full of laughter at them) I would sigh ●●t my words, Poor Souls, Poor Souls. Nay, thus he jeers at His Majesty's most sol●●● Protestation, which he made at the taking of the Holy Sacrament before the Primate of Ireland, and all the Company then present—  N. C. 
For God's sake forbear; you cannot grieve our hearts more than 〈◊〉 remember any scorn cast upon so sacred a person.  C. 
The great pride and insolent which this man discovers still to rem●● among you, makes me think it necess●● to call these things to your mind. B●t will let that instance alone, unless 〈◊〉 continued Folly call for it.  N. C. 
You should not impute t●● faults of some to all, as you have 〈◊〉 through your whole Book.  C. 
That's another instance of his disingenuity, who will take no notice of th● distinction I often made between so●● men and the rest. But will needs say● accuse all, even there where I expre●● say some, as you shall hear before 〈◊〉 end. The truth is, this Phil. is so 〈◊〉 that he writes in many places, as 〈◊〉 had said nothing unless I had writ a Book on purpose against him. It is enough he thinks to silence me, to say, I never preached, to my remembrance, one Sermon of that strain. 
n Page 284. 280. 282. and many other places.  I was never one of those flatterers: I have urged that advice several years past. Just as if he had a Saints Bell in his pocket (as your old friend, Martin said to another, 
o Martin Marprelat Protestation, when one of his Books was taken in the Press.  I hope you will not be offended at his words) crying thing, ting, ting. And what doth it thing? my modesty, my moderation, my peaceableness, my Charity; 
p Sobe● Answ. p. 143. 144. 225.  Nothing but my, my, my. As if he was some Universal Nature, of whom all the particular N. C. did partake. He might at least have considered that there are several degrees of those who differ from us, and that they are so many that no man can in one breath mention them ●ll. They were above threescore years ago most ingeniously painted, and likened to Anacreon's 
q A Sermon at St. Paul's Cross. 1 Nou. 1607. by S. Collins.  fond loves, Some of which were perfect, some Pipient; some ●●acht, some half hatched; some peering ●●t of the Egg, some riper in the Chick, whilst others had the strength to fly nimbly away. All of them have this quality ●o despise us, and think we know little 〈◊〉 nothing of the Mystery of Godliness, or want the power of it: but some in their opinions are further, others a lesser way from us. Now there is nothing in my Book which the N. C. speaks (whatsoever this man boldly talks) but some or other of them allege against us, or reply to us; though every one doth not object or answer every thing therein mentioned. As for those who are sorry for our breaches, and dislike the furious and factious Crew, who scorn and revile us, all that I had to say to them was, as you may remember, to desire them to separate themselves from that Herd, by frequenting the public worship of God, disclaiming their unlawful practices, opposing their bold and proud Spirit, and reproving their insolent and wicked speeches. If they will not be persuaded to this, but still continue among them, countenance their cause, and join with them as if they were a more select and holy people, and so find themselves wounded by any thing I have writ; all that I can say to that is only this, which a very grave Author said in the like Case. It may be some of you know, or have heard of that Noble Moralizer's Fable of Amphialus, 
r Mr. Rob. Abbot. Trial of Church Forsakers, 1639. Enstle to the Reader.  who when he was in all his Military accoutrements to give Combat (as he thought) to Argalus Knight of the Sun; this man's Wise dressed herself in her Husband's Armour and fought his Enemy. Amphialus spared not his blows, gave a cut in the Neck, closes, overthrows, and gives a mortal wound in the Body. But when he opened the Armour and viewed the Body, he found to his great sorrow, it was Parthenia, to whom he meant no hurt at all. Such is my case here, I dare not write against any of our Communion, the love of Brotherly peace is glorious, even among men that other way differ in opinion. But if they thrust themselves among the Enemy, nay, put on the Arms of those with whom I contend for truth, I cannot help it, if they meet with a blow: though I glory not in it, yea, am sorry there should be any such Cause.  N. C. 
You have given too many blows to your betters. For I doubt your Ministry hath hardly produced those good effects as yet (so richly and plentifully I mean) as theirs have done. I doubt you can hardly say of so many as they can say so, these are the children which God hath given me, &c cease to vilify those, the God hath honoured above you, as to the conversion of Souls. Discover not an envious Spirit—  C. 
You need not repeat any more, I have his words 
s Sober Answer. p. 54.  in mind; and remember withal, that such men have been wont of old to vilify all preaching, besides their own, and to challenge to themselves, if not solely, yet above all others, a converting Ministry. So we were told long ago, and I speak no more, saith my Author, 
t Sermon at Paul's Cross, 1607. pag. 73.  than I know by good proof. Thither no doubt that speech of theirs tended, which was so famous in those days, that all the flower was of their bolting, throughout the Land. 
u Preface to their first Petition offered to King James.  Which conceit continued in those that succeeded, as Dr. John Burges observes. If, saith he, for shame they cannot deny Conformists to have excellent gifts, yet they limit the use of them, only to the breeding of knowledge, 〈◊〉 reprehension of some grosser faults; but that their Ministry, as well as others that conform not, may work Faith and Repentance to Salvation, they will not easily acknowledge, ye●, some falsely deny. 
x Preface to the Answer of B● Mortords Book, 15. 1631.  This Man is one of those Daubters; being soured very much with that old leaven which heaved and swelled them up so much. He is inclined indeed to hope that it is possible we may convert some; but alas! they are very few in compare with the Numbers that they convert. Our Ministry is not so powerful, and works not so much upon the heart—  N. C. 
He speaks only of you.  C. 
You forget yourself. Upon the mention of me (who had rather learn, as I told you, than teach) he tells 
y page 14.  you of an Image now adored, which is nothing else but the preaching of Conformists, that must fall before theirs as Dagon did before the Ark. They have the Ark of the Covenant; they have the presence of God among them; they behold the beauty of the Lord in the Sanctuary; who therefore can stand before them? The word is given forth, and we must all down; down to the very ground. For Fire you know, goes out of the mouth of the two Witnesses, (i. e. yourselves) so that, when they testify (as another of your Interpreters expounds it 
z Sermon of the two Witnesses Death and Resurrection, 1648. p. 203. etc. ) against any thing, any man, any Creature, any way, any Ordinances, any Judgement, saying, this is Heathenism, this is Gentilism, this is carnal, this is fleshly, this is the Creature, this is Man and not God or of God; presently it is destroyed, consumed, blasted, and brought to nothing. This he is so confident of, that he repeats it again and again; Whosoever shall hurt or oppose the Witnesses [the Spirit, and Spiritual actings of Christ and his people] be he never so great, wise, powerful, devout and Religious, he shall not be able to stand, but fire proceeds from the Spirit, which torments, consumes, and destroys him. For when the two Witnesses declare that it is not of God, it is not Christ, it is not the holy one of God; but it is Man, it is flesh, it is the outward Court, that is excluded, not the inward Temple, therefore measure it not, leave it out, exclude it from having the dews and showers of Heaven fall upon it; presently Heaven is shut, and they have no rain, and they whither as a Plant which God hath not planted. These are your powerful men that can shut Heaven when they list, with a breath of their mouths. It is but speaking a word, and we study and plod and beat our brains and toil, and labour to no purpose: that blast spoils us all.  N. C. 
This man had too much Fire in his head, which made his mouth so hot.  C. 
Too much Pride, you should have said in his heart, which makes so many of you despise the labours of other men as weak and unprofitable. Thus an impudent Libeler told the good Bishop of Galloway, That others had wrought more faithfully and fruitfully, than he had done, and could teach him how to behave himself, though he seemed to himself (these men you must understand can search the heart) a great Doctor in Israel 
a Answer to Tripartite Apology. 1614 p. 180. . And thus also the Covenanters in late times, upbraided the Reverend Professors of Aberdeen, and they no mean persons 
b Dr. John Forbes, Rob. Baronius etc. Duplies. p. 112.  neither, that their pains in preaching were not fruitful. To which they Answered then, as I do now, That though it should be true, yet the Parable of the seed sown in divers sort of ground, and the Dolorous complaint which those most painful and thundering Preachers Elijah, Isaiah, St. Paul, yea, and Christ himself made of their hard success in their Labours, might learn you to be more benign in your censures of us than you are. To which I add; that it must be left to God to judge who doth most good and makes the best men, for all are not good nor all bad, that such rash and ignorant men as this are wont to call by those names. We know very well, that many men who are converted to you are so far from being good that they become worse than they were before: More haughty and conceited of themselves; more unmannerly to their betters, disobedient to their Masters and Governors, unbridled in their language, unpeaceable and troublesome to their neighbours. It is an easy matter to say I wrong you, but I know what I say, and others have said it before me. It is an old observation of Mr. R. Bernard's 
c Separatists schism, p. 29.30. 1608. , That as soon as ever men enter into the way of separation, immediately they grow peremptory; and though never so simple, yet presently they see the truth without any study: and can partly champer against us, and condemn us all for false Christians and false Churches. Nay, they are so bewitched with that way, that they are nothing like themselves in what was good and laudable in them. Before humble and tractable, then proud and wilful; before they could find the word work and themselves moved by our preaching, but afterward they judge the Minister to have lost the power of his Ministry, because they themselves are in affection altered: blaming the Teacher, when the fault is in themselves. They can with understanding judge between cause and cause, reason and reason, but then they lick up all which comes from themselves as Oracles, be they never so absurd. And have we not all seen how light they all make of this great sin of Separation? The N. England Ministers themselves complain, That there is scarce any truth or error now a days can be received, but it is maintained in a way of Schism, directly contrary to the gathering and uniting Spirit of Jesus Christ 
d Mr. Allen and Mr. Shepherd, Defence of the 9 positions. p. 27. . And what should be the reason think you that men are so ready to follow this evil Spirit that is in the world, but that they have no sense of spiritual wickednesses, nay, look upon Divisions, Separations, and all the evil consequences of them, not only as innocent but holy things? While the Devil, as Mr. Greenham 
e Grave Counsels and Godly observations. p. 37.  well observes, Was known only by horns and claws, or by the hollow voice, he was wonderfully feared; but being now revealed to be a more secret Adversary, a spiritual Tempter, a privy overthrower of Souls, no man almost regards him. And therefore as some have feared him too superstitiously, so now it is come to a more dangerous extremity, that he is not feared at all. He enters into men's hearts securely, and they are not ware of it: He rules and domineers there, and they rejoice at it, thinking they are full of the Spirit of God. O how happy would it be, if all would labour to throw this Devil out, which possesses too many: Pride, high conceit of their own knowledge, glorying in their gifts, crowing over others as carnal or moral men, together with all the rest of his company which I have mentioned. This would be a better work, than to persuade them they are already converted when they are become Proselytes to a party, and too many of them, as far as we can see, by their fruits, like those made by the Pharisees, who were no less laborious, and perhaps successful than yourselves.  N. C. 
You are mistaken, we do not call this Conversion, to become N. C.  C. 
You may speak for yourself, and such as you know very well; for too many do. They glory in the Conversion of those who have only changed their Vices, not their Natures; and of profane or neglectors of Religion, are become Schismatical, proud, censorious, and highly presuming of their knowledge which they have got in a moment; in one word, have exchanged the sins of the flesh for those of the Spirit. Tertullia's 
f Pervenimus de calcaria in Carbonarium. L. de carne. Christi. Cap 6.  words are an exact description of them, if you do but invert the Proverb, They go out of the Coalpit, into the Lime-kill: where, though they become white, yet they remain still dirty and defiled. And look how much these excel other men in zeal, and earnestness, in height of fancy and warmth of affection, in fluency of speech and notable strains of Devotion; in so much the worse condition they are. As men in a frenzy saith Irenaeus 
g L. 1. Cap, 13. pag. 54.  (out of Hipp●●rates) the more they laugh and appear to be vigorous and strong, doing all things like men in health, nay, somethings above what any sound men can do, so much the more dangerous is their disease: in like manner, the higher these people are in their own thoughts, the greater store they have of Religious heat, the more vehemently they bend their thoughts and strain their unpurged Souls (drawing the Arrow, as he speaks, beyond the Bow) the less wise they are, or rather the more mad and furious, and the more unlikely ever to return to any sobriety of mind. I would not for all the World be guilty of that Envy, which this ill-natured Adversary would make you believe I am infected withal. I rejoice, I thank God, not only that men are made truly good, whosoever be the instrument of it; but that they are made wiser and better than myself. Yet I am taught, for all that, by your own Books to lessen the number of such Converts as this man brags of. For they have informed us, for many years, of an evil generation that have separated from us, in whom, as one of them tells us, 
h Fountain of Slander opened, p. 25. 1649.  you shall see Christ and Belial, God and Mammon, in one and the same person. Christ in show, and the other in reality. They let themselves lose to lying and dissimulation, slandering and backbiting, and all kind of circumvention. God, Religion, Reason, Virtue, are but mere terms and notions with them, serving them to no other purpose, but to deceive the more effectually. And that particular of lying is confirmed by Mr. H. Peter himself, who to cry quit with those among you that exclaimed against the Army, as guilty of many Crimes, said, there are some other diseases as much considerable among others, which may be of greater influence, and the last he mentions is, a spirit of lying and false Witness bearing, even to the undervaluing of our enjoyments. 
i A word to the Army, and two words to the Kingdom. 1647. pag. 9  Much more I could relate to this purpose, from some of your own mouths, which if it should have been writ by any of us, I know what you would have said of us.  N. C. 
Truly you have said too much to gratify the common Enemy; and so far (saith Philag. 
k Preface, pag. 10. ) as a man may gather from your Book, you would sooner promote a Cassandrian design, viz. of Union betwixt Protestants and Papists, than that betwixt C. and N. C. For you instigate Rulers to much severity against N. C. but never against Papists.  C. 
As far as a man may gather from his Answer to my Book; he would sooner turn a Turk than a Son of the Church of England, for he hath expressed a great deal of wrath and spite against some of us, but none at all against any of the Turks. What an untoward Adversary have I to deal withal, who, if we will not be impertinent, leave our business and go out of our way to dispute with a man, concludes that we have nothing to say to him? He loves so to ramble himself, that he takes it much to heart, if we will not bear him company. As W. B. pottage, you know, led his profane fancy to the story of the Girl that cried Butter, Butter too, when her Mother taught her the Lords prayer and came to those words, Give us our daily bread. 
l I hope you do not mislike the word Bread in the Lord's prayer, and as thinking that expression too dry, cry out as a Child did, etc. p. 265.   N. C. 
Why should it be called profane? It is but a merry story.  C. 
In the Child it was not profane, who knew not what it said; but in him it is impious to suppose it possible that I should mislike those holy words of our Lords, and think them defective and dry unless I might pray with this Addition, Give us our daily Bread and Butter too. I did not think there had been a Divine among you, who was so much a Child, or else so little a Christian, as to write such stuff as this. Martin, indeed was so bold, as to desire the Lord he would put it into the Assemblies heart to divide the Directory, not only into Chapters, but into Verses, into Verses too; that so we might have a new Directory-Gospel: But this you know was called an horrid Blasphemy—  N. C. 
Pray do not you tell stories too?  C. 
Mine is no old wife's tale like his, but to be seen in Print, in a Book 
m A fresh Discovery of some new wand'ring blazing stars etc. 1646. Sect. 5.  where you may find more such scoffing Prayers, from the men of the New light, whom Philag: is resolved to defend.  N. C. 
I pray God deliver us from their darkness.  C. 
Shut your windows then against them. And pray withal that God would send Philag. more wit or more Modesty, that he may not trouble the world with such wretched Prefaces and Books any more. As for the advantage which you fancy the Papists may make of what I have said, it is not to be considered in compare with that which they make of your Schism, and your loud clamours for more liberty than the Laws allow. We did swear, said Mr. Rutherford 
n Sermen 25. June 1645. at the Abbey p. 6.  the extirpation of Popery etc. now we preach, profess and print that liberty is to be given for the Consciences of men, and how can this ●e denied to Papists. This design of Liberty, which you have in your heads, is that white Devil, that noon day Devil (if you will believe Mr. Edwards 
o Antapolog: p: 56. ) which coming under the merit of much suffering, and well deserving clad in the white Garments of innocence and holiness, is like to do the more hurt. And it was the opinion I find of an old Dr. in Cambridg long before you or I was born, that if ever Popery come into this land again to have any power, it would be by the means of such Precisians as you.  N. C. 
Why do you call any body by that name?  C. 
Let Dr. Featly tell you, an Author whom Philag. quotes very often, Our refined reformers, saith he, 
p A Consecration Sermon March. 23 1622.  (as they would be thought) according to their name of Precisians pair the nails of pretended Romish rites in our Church so near, that they make her fingers bleed. For 〈◊〉 of monuments of Idolatry, all ornaments of the Church must be taken away. For fe●● of praying for the dead, they will allow 〈◊〉 prayer to be said for the living at the burial of the dead. For fear of bread Worship, they will not kneel at the Communion of Christ's body and blood. But how fairly you have contributed, more than any body else, to bring that which you fear upon us, by disturbing the Government of Church and state, and still continuing a lamentable separation from us, there is none now among us, of any understanding, but easily discern: For he is blind indeed, that cannot see through the holes of a Sieve. It is possible you may remember also, who that Gentleman was that told the City of London when he was upon the Scaffold, that it was part of his prayer to Almighty God, that the tumultuous people of this Nation might not be like those Pharisees and their followers who pretending a fear of the Romans coming and taking away their place and Nation (when there was no cause for it, but they only made use of that suggestion to further their mischievous design of murdering the innocent) had at last the Romans brought upon them indeed and were utterly ruined by them. Truly the factious and tumultuous people of this Nation, saith my Author, 
q Eaglan●● Complaint An. 1648.  have in all other things the most resembled the Pharisees that ever any people did: God in his mercy grant that they do not also resemble them in this.  N.C. 
There is no fear of that, I warrant you.  C. 
A great deal the more, because you are not sensible of the danger. For as if it were a small matter to make such a wide breach in our Church, you seek, to make it wider, by advancing yourselves above all other men, disparaging us and our Ministers, and loading them with reproaches, as if they were not worthy to be named together with you. Which forces us to say that of you, which otherways should never have come out of our mouths: though alas! it could not have been hid, you proclaim it so loudly yourselves. This very Advocate of yours hath given such a Character of you in his Book, as may satisfy all wise and sober men, what you are; though we should hold our peace. For he hath one faculty, you must know, wherein he surpasses most other writers, and that is, after he hath made a long discourse to prove a thing, at last to overthrow it all. Or to speak in his own phrase, he is such a Cow as having given a great deal of Milk, throws it all down with her foot. For after all the evil he had said of me, in conclusion, as I showed you, he acknowledges so much goodness in me as is inconsistent with his accusations. And in like manner after all the praises he had bestowed on the N. C. for their piety, sincerity, modesty, patience and such like things, in the end he grants the worst things that I charged them with all, and makes them as bad as bad can be. Though you may be sure it was not his design, only truth would out when he did not observe it.  N. C. 
You should not study revenge, by taking notice of the motes that are in the eye of his discourse, because he did so by yours 
r Sober Answ. p. 11. .  C. 
If I sought for motes I could find a great one in that very phrase. These are logs which I am going to speak of, that a man may see with half an eye. First he confesses that they are self conceited, impatient of contradiction, wedded to their own opinion; such as will rule even their Ministers, if not despise and abandon them, unless they please their humour: Else why should they so easily run away from them, nay spew them out of their mouth, 
s They are his own words. p. 228. and see p. 223.  if they persuade them earnestly to that which they think in their conscience is their Duty. They are so currish also and hard hearted, that they will give such a Minister a Bill of Divorce, and he may starve if he will, for any thing that they will do for him 
t His own words p. 229. . But the reason is, that they are in a rage, in a violent fermentation and boiling against our Church; and therefore must not be meddled withal but let alone, for fear, as he tells you, of making them stark mad, which it is thought would be the effect of an attempt to reduce them to that which I call sobriety 
u pag. 227. . So uncapable they are of good instruction, that they speak evil of our Bishops and others with open mouth, being the Authors or abetters of false and scandalous stories concerning them, and yet cannot be persuaded that they have done it sufficiently, or that they can open their mouths too wide in this case.  N. C. 
A horrid slander.  C. 
Say you so? I will read his very words then to you that you may be convinced though others will not. Neither must they 
x pag. 228.  (i. e. your Ministers) presume to keep a Day of Humiliation for the sin you there mention p. 235. viz speaking evil of Bishops etc. though either to raise or take up a false report against any man, especially if in Authority, is a great sin: yet to keep a day of Humiliation among the people, upon such an account as that (who will not be convinced that they can open their mouths too wide in that case) were immediately to divorce themselves from them, 
☞  or to cause the people to give them a Bill of Divorcement, and to be married to some worse Husband—  N.C. 
I am astonished at his negligent writing: I shall not be angry hereafter if you call him a shatter'd-brain Scribbler.—  C. 
Who not only confesses that you cannot be convinced that you can bawl too loudly, though falsely and scandalously against our Governors; but that the hearts of your people are alienated from us, and have an antipathy against us, as he tells you in the next page. And that some of them hate our Worship worse than a Toad, as he assures us upon his own knowledge 
y pag. 224. Canepejus. & angue : and are so ungrateful withal to our Sovereign, that they will not so much as wish for the peace and prosperity of their Native Country, unless they can enjoy such quiet as they desire.  N. C. 
There is no such thing sure in his Book.  C. 
No! read then what he saith in another place. p. 221, 222. Where he tells us we must not expect that you should be persuaded to seek our peace by such easy means as I directed you to, for men cannot easily so much deny themselves as to promote the interest of those by whom they have been ruined and are ruining all the day long. If you urge that text saith he, seek the peace of that City whether I have caused you to be carried captive and pray to the Lord for it: some are ready to reply (how many who knows?) Yea, and so we will seek your peace and presperity, when you make good what is there added, for in the peace thereof ye shall have peace. They will condition, you see, with his Majesty, or else he must not have the benefit of their prayers for the tranquillity and happiness of his Realms.  N. C. 
Would He had held his peace, and never undertaken our cause.  C. 
There is a plain reason, he tells you, for this surliness. They are grons high and proud; they swell with grief, anger and vexation, 
z pag. 281.  because they cannot have their will, or as he calls it, are trod and trampled upon. And though they are, it seems, so low, yet their spirits are so high, and so far from humble and silent patience, that they have clamoured both upon King and Parliament 〈◊〉 and down the Nation, for the undoing of many families, 
a So he tells us. p. 236.  which tells you what excellent Christians they are; for that word clamour (as one 
b Mr. Fuller's Vindic. of his Sermon. 1643.  told Mr. Saltmarsh) sounds in a bad sense in the Holy Scriptures, as arguing an ill tempered spirit, with amixture of Pride and impatience; for which he citys 9 Prov. 13.4. Ephes. 31. But some of them are gone higher, and have a rebellious principle in them, as he confesses, if what I said be true, 
c Sober Answer, p. 105.  as I am sure it is. And yet for all that there are no such people as they, the power of Godliness is their peculiar portion: thus far this man himself is possessed with those proud fancies, that he thinks, from what I have said against them, it will be enforced that all that which is called Religion is mere Hypocrisy and imposture, 
d Preface, p. 22. 23.  Lastly, as for lying and speaking falsely, you shall not easily meet with a greater example of it than in himself. And if one of your guides be so addicted ro this vice, that he blushes not to put them in Print, when he may be so soon confuted, what a number of lies, in all probability, are there whispered in corners by your common people.  N. C. 
You should say they are mistakes, and no more.  C. 
I would willingly have called them all by no worse name than falsehoods, but upon serious consideration of all things, I cannot but conclude that, too often, there was something of his will in it, and that he had a mind to calumniate. And for our more orderly proceeding, this being you know, part of my Charge against him, I will first set before you some of the lies and falsehoods in his preface, and then some of those that are in his Book. For the former, there is no truth in those words you meet withal, p. 3. that I call some men all to naught; nor did I say so much as this, which he confidently affirms, that W. B. is the greatest Impostor that ever I knew in the Christian Religion. 
c My words are. He is one of the principal Impostors that perverted the truth and a lulterated, etc. Contin, p. 108.  These are forgeries of his own, like that which follows p. 8. You bring in the N. C. saying, the King is a Tyrant. But what will not he be bold to invent, who dare tell you (p. 10.) that I knocked so hard (not only upon the Act of Indemnity, which I have showed you is notoriously false) but upon all overtures for peace and accommodation, that he was not able to lie still; when part of my business was to show the way to it, and when it was fit for you to expect the favour you desire? If we say not what pleases him, it seems we had better hold our peace. If he like not our propositions he will make no bones to say we offer nothing; nay, are against all peace and accommodation with them. They must have their own way; and be set at Liberty (as he tells us) before they will try to make us and you friends; and than it is but upon condition neither; if we will refer it to them, and be bound to stand to their award. 
g They are his own words, p. 220. 221.  Such another ugly lie is that which immediately comes after this, that I reflect obliquely upon most eminent persons, and insinuate that they never deserve to be loved or trusted more, notwithstanding his Majesty's confidence in them. This he found in the same place where he met with all those Stratagems and Maxims he tells you of in the following pages; as that I would put down Religious conference, and bring men out of conceit with experiences, and have spiritual preaching laughed out of Countenance; 
h P. 16, 17. of the Preface.  and that I have used my wit to abuse earnestness in Prayer, preaching of the love of Jesus Christ, and using of Scripture language 
i Page 31. Ib.  with a number of other such like things, which are such gross lies that they cannot be forced from my words by doing violence to them and putting them upon the Rack. For I told you in plain terms what experiences the Apostle commands; and when Religious conference is profitable to ourselves and others, and what it is to preach spiritually, etc. which I do not mean to repeat over again for his conviction. In stead of that, I will recommend to his consideration one Stratagem, which he doth not think of; though he is very expert in it, and though it be a Stratagem of Satan, who as Acontius might have informed him, in a Book bearing that Title; 
k S●●●ns Stratagems. Book 2. p. 50.52 translated, 1648.  prompts men to cavil at one another's words in their disputes; whereby opposition is made not so much against what is affirmed, as against what the opposer hath by a false Interpretation feigned to himself, which kind of practice, tends to nothing, saith he, but to provoke the Adversary, and to make a man's self ridiculous; by opening a Window to himself whereout to cast a thousand follies, not a jot to the matter in hand. Yet some men, as he adds, are exceedingly conceited of themselves, if misinterpreting their Adversaries words, they can infer some great absurdity there from. Howbeit, this custom ought to be left to vain Sophisters: who, as another excellent writer observes; 
l Mouns. Balzac.  can make use of true propositions to infer an erroneous conclusion, and like pettifogger's, still cite the Law, to Authorize their injustice. Such a Caviller is this Philagathus, between whose Maxims, Aphorisms, etc. and my propositions, there is as wide a difference, as we find ofttimes between the Text and the Commentaries, the meaning of the Author, and the Criticisms of Grammarians, So he will confess himself, if he will but take the counsel of Acontius, and forsaking the Devil, with all his Works, report what I say, without addition, diminution, or alteration. I can warrant only my own words which are sound and innocent, as the other writer speaks in the like case, not those of my Adversary which are full of malice and rancour. For what I have written I am responsible, and am ready to maintain it: but all the Visions and fancies that come into other men's heads, are not in my power, nor am I accountable for them. If Philag. will say, that I affirm one of W. B. Sermons is not so good as a Play 
m Preface p. 20.  etc. what remedy is there? who can defend themselves from being abused by such squint-eyed Readers? I cannot make my words plainer than they are, which were only these, that the Sermon about the Cupboard of Plate, and Gods departing from us, etc. hath more of fiction in it, than many of the Plays. 
n Friend●● Debate. 190.  What ever other words I should go about to place in the room of them, he may as well deprave as he hath done these, and many other throughout his whole Book; making them depose such things as were never in my thoughts. But now we have to do with the Preface, in which there are so many falsities of this Nature, that if I could find the like in my Book, I should think (as Dr. Corn. Burges saith in another case 
o Antidote against AntiSobrius, p. 31.1660. ) that it deserved the reward of the Hangman; and I would either burn it myself, or hire him to d● it for me. It would tyre you to hear them all, and therefore I will only add that notorious one which you find in the first of those Stratagems of Satan, which he hath invented, to cast that blame on us, which justly lies upon themselves. It is this, that we have brought all the practical Divines, such as Scudder, Culverwell, Rogers, etc. quite out of Request, that now adays there is no enquiring after those kind of Books. 
p Presace. p. 12.   N. C. 
He only tells you that a grave Bookseller told him not long since that the Rational Divines (as some would have them called) had brought all our practical Divines, etc.—  C. 
Take heed you do not falsify too: He hath made this lie his own, in these words which follow, 
q Ib. page 13.  Sure I am, the writings which you have taught the World to set at naught, have been as great Seminaries and nurseries of Religion, as most in the World.  N. C. 
Is it not too true?  C. 
There cannot well be a more impudent falsehood. For it was the canting of some among yourselves which first struck those Books out of your people's hands, and destroyed those great Nurseries which he speaks of. They made them believe there was a greater Gospel-Light now broken forth, than had been since the Apostles times; that they brought them more glorious Discoveries of the love of God, and held forth free grace more clearly and fully; and that there was both a freer streaming of Christ's Blood to poor sinners laid open, and a more plentiful pouring out of the Spirit in these latter days, than our Forefathers had seen: In short, that there was more of Law and of Mount Sinai, in those old Preachers, and now more of Gospel, and Mount Zion in themselves. This was one of those things which turned their eyes from Authors now named, to look for some greater thing which these new Teachers had to reveal to them.  N. C. 
I must confess I have heard some of our own Divines complain of this. But I doubt you have helped to make the people reject those Authors as weak and frivolous, and to listen to what new Rational Doctrine yourselves are about to bring: as he tells you, p. 13.  C. 
He talks idly: and spitefully opposes his own imaginations to the plain and manifest truth. They were laid aside and other Books come in their stead; before those whom he strikes at, begun either to preach or write. And some of those very Ministers of yours who complained of the New lights and Discoveries have contributed to it not a little, by affecting of new words and fine phrases, and devising Sauces for that food which those old Divines delivered in a plainet and more simple manner. These many people began even then to long for, when Mr. Rogers his Book was writ; as we may learn from one that prefaces to it. Mr. Fr. Merbury there tells us that some professors in those days liked none but such conceited Cooks as this Philagdthus, who commends so hearty, T. W. Sances, and tells us an Anchove or two gives the gravy a fine relish; and rather than fail can be content with Carriers Sans, an Onion, to get a man a better stomach to his meat. 
r All these are his words. p. 50.  But he himself did not like them; as he tells us in these words; the rest of the professors, which ●e like wanton children and begin to play with their meat and brook nothing but conceited writing and speaking, are to be bewailed. And therefore he desires the good Readers in the conclusion of that Epistle, to receive Mr. Roger's provision made for them of wholesome meat, not caring for conceited Cookery, but rememtring that hunger is the best sauce for beavenly food. This is a plain demonstration to me, that this buisy Informer and Reproover hath not been conversant himself in those Writers which he so much commends, but is one of those who hath laid them aside, though he be no Rational Divine, I dare say for him. At least he is never the better for them, being one of those that writes not elegantly but conceitedly (if ever any man did) and that labours hard in this fantastic trade of Cookery, which those grave Writers did so solemnly condemn. Witness the bread and butter I told you of before, the hot broth of reproof which he talks of p. 123. The Beef and Bacon, the Rabbits and Chickens which he fetches in, to make a savoury Mess of W. Bs. bowl of Pottage: 
f pag. 264. and 265.  and the conceited jest which he makes a shift to strain at last out of a Galimaufry of Latin and English compounded together: for which he would be sound firked if he were I know where, and at every lash be told in his own language that he had both jus in re, and jus ad rem too, far more than any boy in the School.  N. C. 
Did not you bring in your Cheese too in the Epistle to your Reader?  C. 
And I take it neither for an outstretched Allegory 
u Like his discourse of this matter; which takes up 3. pages l. p. 264. etc.  (as he would have it) nor an unhandsome resemblance. Others I am sure, who are no bad judges think it as far from conceited, as they think him from being witty.  N. C. 
You must consider the matters about which he writ, are not very grave, and so it may be pardonable if he be a little fantastical.  C. 
No? I thought all this while he had been defending the use of these Sauces in T. W's. Book of Repentance and such like; that have taken the place of those better writers. Which are the less acceptable to many of you for another reason that he thinks not of, being, I have cause to think, but little acquainted with them.  N. C. 
What should that be?  C. 
They resolutely maintain the lawfulness and usefulness of a Form of prayer, which now is so much despised, if not abhorred: and withal approve of the public service of our Church, and commend some other things which are now neglected.  N. C. 
Can you prove what you say?  C. 
I tell you nothing but what my eyes have read. Mr. Rich. Rogers, for instance, whom (p. 13.) he sets in the first place, in his seven Treatises 
x Commended by Mr. Culverwel, one of the Author's Philag. praises.  dedicated to King James in the beginning of his reign, tells you, 
* Treat. 3. chap. 4.  that the Public Prayers solemnly offered to God in the congregation, and praising God with Psalms, is one of the public helps to Godliness to be used by every Christian. In the which, saith he, if that mind be in us with the which we have been taught to come to all holy exercises, and so be prepared for them, who doubts but that we may receive much help by them? Yea, 
☜  and the better a man is the more he shall profit by them. And when a man doth not profit, it is partly of Ignorance partly from a prejudicated opinion and rash zeal, which makes men give themselves to slight and negligent hearing of and attending to them. And then having answered the objection of those who said the Ministers in some places were ignorant and unreformed (Sots and idle drones in philag language. p. 284.) and resolved that notwithstanding we ought to join with them in prayers: He proceeds to satisfy those that said a Minister should use no set form of Prayer, but as he is moved by God's spirit. To such he saith, It is a fond error so to think—  N. C. 
I know many would not like those words.  C. 
I told you so: but hear his reason. For as there be necessary things to be prayed for of all men and always, and those are the most things which we are to pray for; So there may be prescript forms of prayer made conceming all such things. Which being so, what letteth that in the Reading of such prayers, either of confession of sin, request or thanksgiving, what letteth (I say) that the hearers heart may not profitably go with the same, both to humble to quicken and to comfort? For is the reading itself unpure, when the Minister in his own behalf and the people's uttereth them to God? I speak not, you see, of the matter of prayer, but of reading it: for if the matter be naught, the pronouncing of it makes it not good any more than reading doth; if it be good and pure being uttered and pronounced, the reading cannot hurt it, or make it evil. And further to satisfy them, they may know that in all Churches and the best Reformed there is a prescript form of prayer used, and therefore they who are of a mind that it ought not to be, must separate themselves from all Churches. And then he concludes with a persuasion to all good Christians, to lay aside contention and endless and (many of them also) needless Questions about this matter: And seeing it must of all who are well advised be granted, that the public prayers are helps to stir up God's graces in us, and to convey to us the many good blessings of God which we want: to look therefore to themselves every way so carefully that they may be fit to be helped and benefitted by them; and with the same well ordered hearts and minds to attend unto and apply to themselves the prayers, which either before and after Sermon are uttered, or the other which through the whole action of God's worship are read in their hearing: and not to be led by opinion that they can take no profit by them.  N. C. 
I see very well what kind of writer he is.  C. 
And you see he is not for the ●●oth of the men of these days: in which Philag. confesses, your Ministers dare not persuade the people in this manner; much less tell them that all who are well advised are sensible of the benefit that is to be received by the public prayers read out of a Book. This one passage is enough I doubt not, to make such Books as these to be rejected, as well as their Admonitions.  N. C. 
I believe these very good men, and meant exceeding well—  C. 
But were weak and in a lower dispensation.  N.C. 
I dare not say so, but I think they would not please now.  C. 
No I warrant you: especially when they met with a form of prayer which this Author himself hath drawn up at the end of the fourth Treatise: 
y Chap. 20. p. 537. etc. Edit. 5. 1630.  In which among other things he teaches the people to acknowledge the great goodness of God in giving them to live under a most Christian and Religious Prince and King, defending and maintaining the Gospel against all Antichristian Malice and tyranny and other adversary powers, and the same truly and sincerely preached etc. These are words which do not sound well in many of your ears: they would be loath to join in this acknowledgement. For we are told by one that God hath eclipsed the light of the Sanctuary: 
z T. W. Godlymans' picture p. 114  By another that our Aaron's too often make golden Calves: 
a Rebuild. of London. p. 359.  And by Philagathus that the Gospel is gone from many congregations in England and else where. 
b Sober Answ. p. 284.  And that the Goshens that were (when the N. C. were in them) are grown as dark as the land of Egypt 
c pag. 285.  and were it not for some reasons he tells you, he would not have spoken of it, but let it alone, till the cry thereof so came up to Heaven, as to cause the God of Heaven to say as in Gen. 18.11. concerning Sodom, I will go down and see if they have done altogether according to the cry of it which is come up unto me etc. 
d p. 286.  By which it should seem—  N. C. 
No glosses, good Sir., nor Inferences.  C. 
There needs none. We may plainly observe what judgements they expect to come upon us because of their removal. We are in Egypt already (though the word of God be read every where) and must be made like Sodom and Gomorrah. I wish hearty that in stead of such acknowledgements as good M. Rogers taught the people to make, though many in those times were suspended and deprived; they do not now clap petards, on heaven's gates, that they may fly open and send down Fire and brimstone upon us.  N. C. 
Are you mad? what wild fire hath got into your head? Phil. called you a Crack; now he will call you a Cracker.  C. 
You are not well read, I perceive. T. W. tells you that Prayer hath a power to destroy the Insolent Enemies of the Church. For the two Witnesses have a flame at their lips: Fire proceeds out of their mouth, which devours their Enemies, Rev. 11.5. and this Fire is certainly to be interpreted of their Prayers. 
c Godly man's picture, by Mr. Tho. Watson. p. 129.  Now that you may better understand their power, he tells you that Prayer is a petard which will make Heaven's Gate to fly open. 
f Ib. p. 130.   N. C. 
I cry you mercy, I did not expect to have found such expressions any where.  C. 
Not in Mr. Rogers, I warrant you, nor any of the Seminaries before named, who will never trouble you with such conceited language as this, nor tell you; that Prayer is a seed sown in God's ears. 
g Ib. p. 128.   N. C. 
Good now dismiss both him and Mr. Rogers, I have had enough of them.  C. 
Let me tell you first that this book of his was abridged by Mr. Egorton 
* Anno. 1618. and put in Quest. and Answ.  (who commended it in his Preface to Mr. Hen. Scudders daily Walk:) and called the practice of Christianity. A Book well know and much read when I was a Child; and hath an Epistle of Dr. Gouge before it, and at the conclusion certain Advertisements concerning Prayer. 
* At the end of the seventh Book, chap. 11. pag. 691. Edit. 5. 1635.  In which he declares that it is lawful and in some Cases expedient to use a set Form of Prayer. And there being in respect of place and company three sorts of Prayer; Public in the Church, private in the Family, and secret by a man's self: he concludes that the greatest liberty may be taken in solitary Prayer, by a man's self; because we are sure, provided we be humble and upright, that God will not upbraid any man, for his Method, Order, Words or utterance. In private Prayer he thinks we may not take so great a Liberty as when alone: and justly fears that some well affected people have been somewhat faulty and offensive in this; the weaker sort being not so capable of that kind of Prayer which is called conceived or extemporal, varying every time in words, phrase, manner and order, though the matter and substance be the same. But as for the public Congregation, special care, he tells you, must be had that nothing be done in praying, preaching or administering the Sacraments, but what is decent and orderly, because there many eyes do see us, and many ears hear us; and upon this account it is expedient for the most part to keep a constant Form both of matter and words, etc.  
This was the Doctrine of the Divines of those days, though it be not relished now by those, who reverence their Name more than their Books. Dr. Preston himself (another Name which this man vapours withal) declared his opinion about the lawfulness of set forms in the first Sermon 
h Preached before he was Chaplain, as Mr. Ball tells us in his Life, published by Mr. Clark p. 112.  he preached before King James at Royston, upon 1 John 16. where he hath these remarkable words, which will be thought too scornful by many of you now. That a set Form of prayer is lawful much need not be said: the very newness of the contrary opinion is enough to show the Vanity and falsehood of it. The truth of it is, it was so new, that there were few of those old Divines but they opposed it in their constant practice. This Dr. now named, Dr. Sibbs, Mr. Hildersham, Mr. Dod, Mr. Bradshaw, etc. always using one Set Form of Prayer before their Sermons, (and some of them in their Families.) For which the last mentioned gave this reason, as Mr. Gataker tells us in his Life; 
i Life of Mr. Wil Bradshaw, published by Mr. Clark, p. 67. in Folly  because he sitation in prayer is more offensive than in other discourse, unto profane ones especially; whereof in mixed multitudes and meetings some lightly, too many usually, are. And he affirmed this also to have been Mr. Th. Cartwrights practice with whom he sometimes conversed. And Mr. Clark I remember, confesses that Mr. Sam. Crook, who died no longer ago than 1649. was the first man who brought conceived prayer into use in those parts where he lived; in . 
k Collect of 〈◊〉 o● 〈◊〉 Divi●●●, p. 38 〈…〉  If you would see more of this you may read Dr. Prestons' Book, called the Saints daily Exercise, 
l 〈◊〉. 6. 1 31. p. ●●.  set forth by Dr. Sibbs, and Mr. Davenport; where you will find this Question largely handled, whether we m●y ●se set Forms of Prayer? and resolved assirmatively. For which he gives many reasons.  N. C. 
I'll seek them when I am at leisure.  C. 
Only remember this for the present, that he saith he knows no objection of weight against it. How do you like this Doctrine now?  N. C. 
Is not the Spirit straitened in stinted Prayer? And doth not a man find his Spirit bounded and limited when he is tied to a Form?  C. 
That's the main objection, he tells you; to which he gives three substantial Answers. The first is, that those very men who are against this and use this reason, do the same thing daily in the Congregation; for when another prays, that is a Set Form to him that hears it; who hath no liberty to run out though his Spirit should be more large; but is bound to keep his mind upon it. And therefore if that were a sufficient reason that a man might not use a set Form, because the Spirit is straitened, it would not be lawful to hear another pray (though it were a conceived Prayer) because in that case his Spirit is limited. Secondly, he tells you, though the Spirit be limited at that time, yet he hath a liberty at other times to pray as freely as he will. It is no general ty, though he be then bound up. And Thirdly, he adds that there is no tie and restraint upon the Spirit, because there is a ty to words. For the largeness of the heart stands not so much in the multitude and variety of Expressions, as in the extent of the affections; which have no tie upon them, when we are tied in words.  N. C. 
Too many words will not do well in any other thing. Let us therefore make an end of this.  C. 
I shall only tell you that if you turn a leaf or two further 
m Saints daily Exercise p. 84.  you will find another case resolved about the gesture of Prayer; which he would have to be very reverend, especially in public. And that Mr. Hildersham exhorts to kneeling as the fittest gesture: And complains of those that neglected it; as also of such as would not sit bare at the reading of the holy Scriptures: wishing withal that when we come in and go out of the Church we would give some signification of such reverence as now is rather derided than approved. By all which you may see without travelling through the rest of the Authors which he mentions, that they will not down with your squeamish stomaches; and have been thrust out of doors by a number of frivolous writers among you, who can better humour the childish fancies, and the corrupt appetites of the professors of this Age. This very man is one of them, who jeers those old Puritans (as they were called) as well as us, when he compares a man that uses a Form of Prayer to an Horse in a Mill 
* Page 97. of his Book.  which goes round and round, and cannot easily go out of his way, if he do but jog on, though he be hoodwinked and blindfolded.  N. C. 
But Religion as he says, is like to suffer greatly by the not reading of those good writers.  C. 
That's spoken only upon supposition, that our Ministers have made them to be rejected; but if they have been the cause of it themselves, he can tell you another story. Doubt not of it, he can find you Authors enough as good as they if not better, and as many as you please; twenty, or forty, or more. Say how many you would have, for it's all one to him whether it be twenty or forty 
n Pag. 55, 56, 57  (one is as soon said as the other) and they shall be such Treatises, that there are not better extant in the World of those Subjects.  N. C. 
Do you think he will write against himself?  C. 
That's a very small matter with one that minds not what he writes. In a twelve month's time you may think it is easy for a man to forget what he hath writ; and so no wonder that he who told us in 1668. that some good Scholars were put to such hard shifts as to beg their bread, the Laws at that time being too hard for them, and too strictly observed to let them get any sufficient employment for a livelihood, 
o Rebuilding of London, p. 331.  etc. should tell us now 1669. that the severe Ordinances signified next to nothing where he was conversant; and should ask to what purpose it is to mention them, as long as I tell of no Execution done by them. 
p Sober Answ. p. 254, 255.  But he can do a great deal more than this comes to: in an hours time or so, he can forget what he hath said, and say the contrary. In the 31. page of his Preface he tells you, that he hath endeavoured to restore me with a Spirit of meekness; notwithstanding that, but two leaves before (p. 26.) he had excused himself for not making a milder answer; flesh and blood being not able to bear some of my expressions. In his Book also, if you mark it, he desires you to believe he is far from being one of those who say (as if we were the Jews or Gentiles he speaks of in another place) For what acquaintance should we persuade our people to join with you? Or how came we to owe you so much Service? 
q Page 221.  And yet he hath not writ many leaves before he tells us in plain terms, without excepting himself, that the N. C. Do think that they or some of them have been martyred by you or by your means and are killed all the day long; now they think it unreasonable upon that accovat (if upon no other) that they should also be Martyrs for you; that they should be repairers of your breaches, who have been the makers of theirs. 
r Page 229.  But there is nothing so pleasant as to see him who laughs at a Ratherism (as he calls it) which he brings in by head and shoulders, not knowing who it was that spoke those words, the plotting of Treason is dangerous, rather than otherwise 
s pag. 266.  fall into a gross one himself and not know it. It is just with God to punish you with perpetual Barrenness, as he did Mical, But I would rather deprecate than wish it. So he 
t pag. 27. ; as if he had been at a stand 
u They are his own words in the other case.  and at some uncertainty, whether he might not altogether or almost as well pray God to curse his neighbour, as desire he would not: and therefore brings in his opinion but with a modest rather, or in the way of Ratherism.  N. C. 
I had rather he had let both alone.  C. 
Come, leave off that idle toying with words, which he and his fellows are so guilty of.  N. C. 
And are not many among yourselves in the same predicament? Doth not he tell you what ware he is able to farnish you with all of this kind? p. 51.  C. 
He may open his shop when he pleases: But it will be nothing to the parpose. For we do not call such by the name of powerful men as you do; nor do they pretend to such high illuminations, and to speak as men inspired; which makes toying and fooling far worse in your preachers than it can be many of ours.  N. C. 
He wishes that those whom you reprove would avoid speaking and writing of some things.  C. 
What they are is hard to tell, for he justifies all that I have noted, and imagines also that I have done my worst. Which I will not now demonstrate to be false, because if what he wishes be done, I protest I have my end. Which was not to abuse any man, much less to make Books of the follies I see in theirs; but only to give such light touches of them, that they and others, on all sides might write and speak after a better and more sober fashion. This which I tell you now in short, is the very bottom of my heart: if he will not believe it, he may choose. Let him take his course, and force me, if he think good, to say that in our own defence, which I have no such mind, as he imagines, to meddle withal.  N. C. 
For my part, I have so little list to hear more of these matters, that I am inclined to bid you good night.  C. 
Stay a while. We have scarce looked into the Body of his Book for those falsehoods and lies which are scattered there without number. But since you begin to grow weary, I will only note some of the most notorious. This for one, that 〈◊〉 our Ministers appropriate and arrogate to themselves the name of Rational Divines; 
x p. 16.17.  Nay, entitle themselves and their party to all the reason and learning in England. 
y p. 143, and he is at it again p. 168. and other places.  A pure calumny; and so ungrounded, that we have all the reason in the World (which is a great deal more) to say that he is a Lyar. For any man, till this new Logician took the chair, might pretend to speak better reason in some matters than another man, without being thought to engross all the reason in the Country; or to have commenced Dr. in reason either.  N. C. 
You said you are Master of reason.  C. 
So is every body that hath any: and I believe he needed not to commence Master or Bachelor either, to have as much wit as he hath at this present.  N. C. 
Your Ministers he saith have worn those phrases threadbare, the reason of the thing, and the nature of the thing.  C. 
He will wear his credit so bare by writing on this fashion, that no man will take his word for a farthing. They affect no such phrases; as all know that hear them. Though it concerns us all, I must tell you, to look to our Reason, when we have been told by those that robbed us of so many other things, that perhaps we shall find them plundering us of our Reason and unde standing 
z Epistle to Flashes of Lightnings etc. 1648. : that is, imposing spiritual non sense upon us.  N. C. 
Pray enter not into that matter now.  C. 
If you have any reason left, you cannot but see how much he wrongs me when he tells you in round words that I deny a man can pray by the assistance of the spirit of God. p. 47. This is a rapper.  N. C. 
He explains himself afterward. p. 89.  C. 
What if his Readers never look so far into his Book? Then down goes this  as glibly as that assertion of T. W. that the Platonists deny the immortality of the soul. 
a 
The Lucianists & Platonists deny the immortality of the Sonl.  
Morning Exerc. Methodised. 1660. pag. 615.    N. C. 
I understand none of their opinions.  C. 
There are no Philosophers that are so zealous for the immortality of souls as these whom he joins with the Lucianists, who derided all Philosophers what so ever, even Epicurus himself when the humour took them.  N. C. 
They are all alike to me, who have no acquaintance with them.  C. 
Nor are like to have if you trust such men as these; who venture to say any thing that you may think them learned, without any reason. To which Philag. is such an enemy (whatsoever he pretends) that when I only. mention many things which I have heard from our Minister which are not commonly preached on by yours, and plainly intimated that I could name more 
b Friendly debate. p. 152. first Edition; which I desire the reader to consult, that he may see what this man is. , he concludes boldly that I have quoted the things which our Minister doth mainly insist upon p. 139. and saith, this is the Body of his Divinity; the whole compass by which he seems to fail in the whole course of his Ministry. 
c pag. 137.  What cannot such a man do to uphold their cause who can 〈◊〉 such a palpable  as this? and when I speak expressly of growth in Godliness, and of things supperadded to what are vulgarly talked of, and did not mention all neither, spends several pages to show how defective the body of our practical Divinity is. And what a case are those poor people in, who follow such guides as make no conscience of speaking truth themselves, or have not wit enough to apprehend it when it is plainly spoke by other men.  N. C. 
You are troubled I perceive at these things.  C. 
For nothing, I protest, but the naughty humour of such men as these. Otherways, it is a great confirmation of the strength of my Book, that he is fain to make lies his refuge, that he may make a show of a confutation. And as the blind, we say, swallow many a fly, so will you I doubt many a . For if you follow him to p. 144. He will tell you that the passages which I quote concerning their railing and bitterness against us are but few; when the contrary is apparent. He himself within two pages 
d pag. 146.  takes notice of others besides those few which he here mentions. Nay he finds one more than I named to that purpose; whom he calls one of the Malcas'. Who was not quoted for any speeches against those by whose decree he was cropped (who it seems were Apostolical men, according to the state of this resemblance) but for bitter words against yourselves. It is some thing strange that they being so few, if you believe him, whom I cited, he could not name them right. But I am fain, he saith, to look back as far as 1642. for some of them; and as far as 1621. for others [that is for one] which insinuates that I could not or did not cite many of later days. Both which are false; for I noted several passages out of Mr. Bridg, printed within these two years, wherein he plainly makes us Antichristian, and the Prelates all one with the Beast—  N. C. 
Pray repeat them not, nor name any more.  C. 
Which I can as easily do, as show the loudness of that lie, that we began with them first 
e Against which Mart. Mare-prel. is a witness.  p. 146. and the nakedness of that excuse for their tailing, from the general conflagration of Church Government, p. 145. As if that could be a provocation to them, when they had desired and contrived it themselves, and clapped their hands at the flames. Witness the great expressions of joy and glorying which we then heard, and his own acknowledgement, when he tells you, they were as firebrands newly plucked out of the Fire 
f pag 146. : which deliverance it seems in stead of provoking their thanksgivings to God, enraged their spirits to throw about firebrands, arrows and death. These were very great Saints without all doubt; who deserved his Apology and may in good time come into the catalogue of Martyrs.  N. C. 
I believe he would only try what he could say for them—  C. 
Like a true Sophister; who I am afraid strained his Conscience a little to make excuses for that, which he knew was too black to be blanched; and therefore I less wonder that he makes bold with it that he may be able to calumniate me. Making you believe that I would persuade the people that there is nothing of true Religion, in a sincere aptness and promptness to good discourse. p. 171. (a most horrid ) And that they may be better employed the mean time p. 172. Where he is at his old trade of curtailing my sentences; for I did not positively say that they might be better studying other things, but only upon supposal that they did not understand what they said. 
g Sec Friendly Deb. pag. 179.  Which shows what an inclination this man hath to falsify, and how vain he is in going about to make me contradict myself, and also how much nearer he is to madness, or some thing else, than he thinks me. For in fine be pronounces, that I say, Heavenly discourse may be spared or let ale●e p. 186. Such another forgery is that Pa●ciple which he saith seems to be mine, that no man can love another but in the sight and upon the account of a reward. p. 192. Which is as true, as that I was the Aggressor and first set upon the N. C. 
h pag. 290.  and that my Books have been magnified as if they deserved to be bound up, if not with the Bible yet with the Liturgy? 
i pag. 291.   N. C. 
Why? did not you fall upon them before they meddled with you?  C. 
No. I only vindicated and defended our Church and Ministers from the odious aspersions cast upon them by words and writings, as if they were Antichristian, Babylonish, Apostatical, Superstitious, formal and without the power of Godliness—  N. C. 
You did more than so.  C. 
That is, in defending myself, who am a Member of this Church, and other men, I turned the charge upon you, and that is called an Assault. But it is very new reformed language: For I never heard that they who defended themselves, though they gave a wound to their Enemy, were accused of any crime. Surely, as the Scotch Gentleman saith. 
k Modest Conference. 1669. pag. 63.  You who have been so much for desensive Arms, may at least allow us to defend ourselves as well as we can with our Tongues and Pens.  N. C. 
I'll give you leave to do any thing, if you will but make an end.  C. 
You shall be troubled with no more upon this head, than these two things; the one about excommunication, the other about plays.  N. C. 
It's well you bring them to my mind, I thought to have asked you about those very things. He tells us of Lay-Thunders, and Lay-dispensers of Excommunications, who are the nimblest at casting abroad the Thunderbolts. p. 240.  C. 
He doth so: and deserves to be sound rattled for that Calumny. There are no Laymen who excommunicate any body, as he might have learned, if he had been a careful Student, from a substantial Book. It is the Answer 
l Printed at Oxford. 1603. pag. 21, 22.  of the Vice-chancelour, and Doctors etc. of the University of Oxford, to the Petition of certain Ministers desiring Reformation, when King James came to the Crown. Among other Enormities in Discipline which they complained of this was one, that Excommunication came forth in the name of lay persons, Chancellors, Officials etc. To which the reply was, that suppose it true, yet the Chancellor, or Commissary is not a lay man in this case; the Ordinary and he are but one Judge: or rather whatsoever he doth in this behalf, he doth it in the Authority of the Ordinary, according to the power committed to him. A thing not unusual in the civil state wherein the Lord Chancellor doth dispose of many things which are originally in the King etc. But secondly, no lay Chancellor or Commissary what soever doth at any time excommunicate any man, or sends out in his own name any excommunication. For this is the practice of the Church of England, in the censuring of notorious and more grievous crimes, the Archbishop, the Bp. the Dean, the Archdeacon, or a Prebendary that is a Priest pronounceth the Sentence in his own Person. And in matters of less offence, as contumacy in not appearing or the like, the Vicar General, Official, or Commissary that is not in Holy Orders holds this course. First upon knowledge and examination of the cause he adjudges the p●rty worthy to be excommunicated. Then the Minister (associated to him by express authority from the Ordinary) doth pronounce the Sentence of excommunication against him. Lastly the Chancellor sends to the Pastor of the Parish where that party dwells, requiring him publicly to declare the said party to be a person excommunicated by the Sentence of the Minister his associate. And all this according to the form of the Articles set forth by her Majesty. 1597.  N. C. 
I am satisfied, there are no Lay-thunderers. But me thinks they should not meddle at all in this matter.  C. 
You reprove that in others which you allow in yourselves, who if you could have had your wills, would have brought in a great many lay persons that should have had a hand in excommunication. And as for the slender Offences which this man talks of, we know well enough what they are; no less than contumacy and contempt: concerning which read what the Scottish discipline saith in the Order of excommunication. 
m Printed 1571. Chap: 4.  The words are these, thus any small Offence may justly deserve excommunication, by reason of the contempt and disobedience of the Offender. But this is not all that I have to say to this man: He receives reports against some of the Elders of the Church, when he confesses he can charge none of them particularly, and thereupon accuses them, for passing that direful Sentence so suddenly, as that they say, I admonish thee, I admonish thee, I excommunicate thee, all in a Breath. A most foul calumny; of which I may say as Bishop Hall to Robinson and his faction, having separated from us, you devise slanders to colour your sin. We must be shameful that you may be innocent. 
n Apol. against the Brownists sect. 33.  Some Heathens would not have done thus: for Papinian a famous Lawyer chose rather to die (as St. J. Heywood observes 
o Life of Edw. the sixth. p. 84. ) than defend the murder which the Emperor Cardacalla had done upon his Brother Geta; but some Divines are still found who destain their profession and the good Arts they have learned, not only by defending factions, but by publishing odious untruths upon report and credit of others only. And yet, if this were true, it is a thing which they of the separation have alleged against one another as much as they did against us. For Geo. Johnson told his fellow Separatists at Amsterdam, that they had excommunication as ready, as a Bishop hath a prison. 
p Bishop Hall Ib. sect. 51.  To which you may add that no excommunication can be more suddenly and rashly pronounced, than many of you have excommunicated yourselves from our public Prayers and the supper of the Lord. So your predecessors were wont to speak of the Separation in which you now are. Divers say they, 
q Letter of many Ministers in old England to those of new 1637.  have left our Assemblies because of a stinted Liturgy and excommunicated themselves from the supper of the Lord, and having turned aside themselves, labour to ensnare others: and how headily and suddenly many did this, is so well known that we need not stand to debate it now.  N. C. 
No. Now I pray you give me leave to play.  C. 
I hope you are not yet tired, because you are so jocular; I was going to tell you, that he accuses me, with the same face that he hath said all the rest, as an Advocate for plays, 
r pag. 180.  when I only undertook to justify some, whom you falsely call ungodly, merely upon the score of going to a play: And he would make you believe that I plead for them, and says, we need not wish for plays; 
s pag. 182. 184.  when I say in express words, our Ministers do allow them, to go to a play and in due measure; Encourage them to it they do not &c. 
t Friendly Deb. pag. 182.  What think you? Is there any shame left in this man—  N. C. 
He tells you, if it be ordinary in public plays to introduce obscene 〈◊〉 profane passages, he is an Enemy to them so far forth.  C. 
What need he tell me that, which I had told him before? 
u Friendly Deb. pag. 192.  Have we nothing to do, but to say the same thing over and over again? Or can he say it better? If he can, let us hear it.  N. C. 
In these day's men are apt to take too much liberty, and so if you give them leave to go to any, they will go perhaps to all.  C. 
That's better said, than any thing I find in him: but there is an Answer ready in a Divine 
x Dr. Feately's preface to Mr. Garakers defence of his Book of Lots against Al●, 〈◊〉.  that he hath mentioned, if you do but apply what he hath discreetly said in the case of lusory lots, to this of Plays. Albeit, saith he, we are all apt to take too much hold of any point of liberty reached unto us out of God's word; yet God's truth must not be suppressed because of men's Errors, neither is it a safe way to go about to cure an error in practice, by another error in judgement: I mean to reform the abuse of plays by totally condemning the use itself of them. Though a Chirurgeon mean never so well in letting his Patiented blood, when he needs it much, yet if he strike not the right vein, he had better have spared his pains. The Lo●● open the eyes of all that seek to serve him in sincerity and singleness of heart, that neither by enlarging their liberty, they open a gap to licentiousness, nor yet by too much restraining it, lay a snare on weak consciences.  N. C. 
A good prayer: but to acknowledge the lawfulness of going to them, opens a gap which they will make as wide as they please.  C. 
I cannot help that. But I no more make way to the abuse, by defending the use of them (as M ●. Gataker speaks in the other case) than some of the ancient Fathers made way to the abuse of wine, when they defended against the Manichees, Tatianists and Encratites, that wine was Gods good Creature which men might lawfully drink: Or than so many of late Writers as defend the lawfulness of an Oath lawfully used against the Anahaptists that utterly condemn all use of it, do thereby make way for the justification of that ordinary vain swearing which is as rife, nay far rifer than any abuse of plays. For they are mostly, if not only, in London, but the other all the Kingdom over.  N. C. 
But the abuse can hardly be separated from the use.  C. 
No? that's strange, why not as well as in drinking Wine? To me this seems far more the easier of the two. For men can have no more of a Play for their money, than the Actors have provided for them, but Wine they may have as long as their money lasts in their pockets, and longer too. And if there be any thing immodest or profane in Plays, that may be easily remedied by the Master of the Revels, who, according to the Ancient constitution ought to see that nothing be spoken but what is fit to be heard. Many I am sure who stand in need of some recreation, and find them no unfitting Antidotes against melancholy and other untoward passions, desire none but those which are cleanly, and do no violence to honesty. And they are not so dull but they conceive it possible to reconcile pleasure with virtue, and that as there is a composed melancholy and folly, so there may be a free and merry wisdom. You perhaps have not, but others have met with one, that tells them, there is an Art of using pleasure innocently; which was professed anciently by Aristippus in Greece, who never did any thing undecent or unbecoming, and yet was always Merry. This Art, as the same person teaches them, was corrupted by Petronius and Tigellinus at Rome, who abused it as poisoners do Physic. And therefore as heretofore Magistrates were created expressly to have a care of the pleasures of the people, and besides the Edicts of the Republic, there were under the Emperors a Tribune for pleasures; so they hearty desire it may be again. They would have none publicly allowed, but what passes the severest judgement of Wise and sober men: and would be glad to see such a Science and Discipline of pleasure, as that Gentleman says be hath seen in the Formularies of Cassioderus. They conclude, as he doth, that it is not just to accuse the purity of things for the intemperance of men; and that it is not credible the good things of this life were made only for the wicked.  N. C. 
But many intelligent men, who think Plays lawful enough, yet wish you had not meddled with them.  C. 
Why so?  N. C. 
Because a running Horse they say needs no spurring; men run to them fast enough already.  C. 
There's nothing new in this. I do not spur any running Horse by my Book (as Mr. Gataker well answers in the like case) but endeavour only to ungird some that have been girt in more than is meet; and to ease such as might be thereby not girt only, but galled too. It was meet in the Judgement of as intelligent persons as you mention, though not to invite men to them, which I have not done, yet to oppose your rigid opinion of the unlawfulness of them; because it invades a point of Christian liberty, and it is apt also to make you very censorious. If those two reasons be not able to justify my prudence, I will not defend it with more words.  N. C. 
I think they have been generally condemned.  C. 
By whom?  N. C. 
By Godly men.  C. 
What? as unlawful.  N. C. 
I cannot tell: they generally shake their heads at them.  C. 
That is, they dare not say they are unlawful, and yet will not say they are lawful. And so they keep poor people in bondage to perpetual Scruples, and leave a room for their own censoriousness. The Lords and Commons I am sure had no opinion of their unlawfulness in the beginning of the late Wars.  N. C. 
How do you know?  C. 
By their Ordinance of the 2. of Sept. 1642. concerning Stageplays, which only saith; that since public sports do not well agree with public calamities, nor public Stageplays with seasons of humiliation; it is therefore thought fit and ordained that while Ireland continues in so distressed, and England in so distracted estate, and set times of humiliation are also continued for these sad causes, public Stageplays should cease and be forborn. And though it appear they were not entirely obeyed; yet in their Ordinance of the 20. of Octob. 1645. wherein they give rules and Directions concerning suspension from the Sacrament of the Lords Supper, they decree no more than this (about such matters) in they point of scandal, that no person who uses any Dancing, Playing at Dice or Cards, or any other Game, or makes, or resorts unto Plays, interludes, fencing, etc. upon the Lord's Day, shall be admitted to it. But there is not a word of the exclusion of those who use these ●●creations on other days.  N. C. 
Sure they did something more for the prohibiting of Plays.  C. 
I am not ignorant of it, They put down all Plays in London, Westminster, Middlesex and Surry, by an Ordinance of 22 Octob. 1647. and another of 16 of Febr. following, and set a penalty on those that Acted or went to them. And yet for all this, the Ordinance for the settling of the Form of Church Government to be used in England and Ireland, which came after these; 
y Aug. 29. 1648. Die Martis. p. 31.  doth not shut out such persons from the holy Communion, unless they make or resort unto them on the Lord's Day, as aforesaid; and then they reject those who use Hawking, Hunting, Coursing or Fishing, as much as these.  N. C. 
However many wish you had been affected in writing as you say you are in practice, that is, not to have meddled with them.  C. 
They must let me have my wish too; that they would well consider what my reasons were, which I have now told you.  N. C. 
You have one pitiful reason wherewith you plead the lawfulness of Plays, the sum whereof is this; that to see a Play is not so sinful or not worse than to spend the time in hearing long stories of the Bishops, or such and such a Parson or Neighbour (as you say, p. 187.) therefore it is lawful. A most wretched Argument; as if you should prove that theft is good and lawful, because Adultery is as bad, or worse than that. Are you a Master of Reason and bring so weak an Argument as this? 
z Theseare his words, p. 184, 185.   C. 
I have so much reason as to make you sensible that either he doth not understand common sense, or else is so malicious as to disgrace good Sense (after his pitiful fashion) among those who examine nothing, but believe as others inform them.  N. C. 
How so?  C. 
Do I grant or suppose that it is sinful to see a play? Is not the very drift of my discourse quite contrary, to justify those who go to them, if they be otherwise blameless? Doth not he himself say as much, when he calls me an Advocate for Plays, and tells you I plead for them? What shall we make of such a pestilent corrupter of plain sense—  N. C. 
I did not think of this; else I should not have mentioned it.  C. 
Nor he, either of this or of any thing else that I said, but clatters out of the hollow cabinet of his cheek (as the Bishop of Galloway some where speaks 
a Answer to Tripartite, Apol. p. 171. ) any thing that comes readiest into it, never going into himself as becomes a wise and modest man to advise with his own mind seriously before he utter any thing. For if he had, he would not but have instantly seen how inconsistent these two are, to make it lawful to go to plays and to suppose it sinful: which contradiction if he could have found in my Book, he needed not have troubled himself any further; for I had effectually confuted myself. But if he had only looked, half a minute upon those lines which he refers you to; 
b Friendly Debate, p. 187.  and be capable to understand a discourse; he would have seen that I did not compare one bad thing with another, but an innocent thing with that which is notoriously bad. Only I said (after the fashion of those who speak modestly) Why should they not be thought to spend their time as well as you that can hear long stories of the Bishops, etc. when I might have said, they spend it a great deal better, or there is no compare between them. And yet he hath the impudence to declaim on this Argument, and to tell you what Epithets he could bestow on it; and at last to conclude triumphantly, that he hath convinced 
c As you may see p. 186.  me of the fallaciousness of this reason, which he himself composed. You may think it too sharp, but I know one that bestowed such another censure on him, as Balzac did upon such another Scribbler; after a tedious perusal of whose Book he concluded thus, My Grammar cannot find construction in it, nor my Logic common sense. When you have perused and considered this and several other passages, do you judge how much is fit to be abated of the rigour of this Sentence?  N. C. 
I have something else to do. Pray let me ask you one Question which you find in him (and he speaks much of it 
d Pag. 181, 182, 183. ) why do you allow that to others in Print, which you deny to others in practice? Why do you not go yourself, if it be so lawful?—  C. 
I would ask him a Question too, but that I think it vain to demand a reason of him that hath it not.  N. C. 
What is that?  C. 
Nay, it is a very easy one, and needs no long study to make an answer to it.  N. C. 
What is it then?  C. 
Why did he not read my Book better? must we write a new Book for every particular man that will not be at the pains to mind what we have writ already: but only Question's and Catechises us about those points which every child can resolve from what hath been already declared? I told you there were some persons who were above them and could entertain themselves with better pleasures to their liking. 
e Friendly Debate, p. 184.  and others who did not think this pleasure so expedient for them in their place and Relation. Why could not he have supposed me at least among the latter sort, without ask any Questions? or since it is a thing indifferent whether a man go or not, why should I be bound to give him a reason why I do not use them?  N. C. 
But may not the reason be, because you think them to be generally profane or obscene? He suspects, they would hardly take with a great many people, though they were never so ingenious, if there were not some such evil mixture in them.  C. 
He hath an ill-natured imagination. I do not think the generality of those that frequent them, would have them stained, either with those or any other such qualities. However, the persons whom I pleaded for abhor such things as much as any of you can do: and some Plays they abhor a great deal more.  N. C. 
I do not believe it: the better sort of us abhor all.  C. 
Stay there. Philagathus himself can be present at a breaking up, and there see an innocent modest Comedy Acted by young Scholars: 
f Pag. 179.  which, either out of love of Tautology, or lest you should not believe it, he tells you over again in his longwinded Preface. But I can tell you of a Play that, when time was, you could all be contented to read and see Acted too: though more dangerous a great deal than this children's sport. It is called England's Tragedy, Acted by four living creatures and two kill Beasts. 
g I find not the year meationed; but appears by the matter to have been w●itabout 1642. being upon occasion of the commission of Array.  The four living creatures, 4. Rev. 6. were the Militant Church warring for the Lamb; that is, your own dear selves. For the two kill Beasts 13. Rev. 1, 11. he tells you were the malignant party warring for Antichrist: the Servants of a strange God, and Rebels against Israel, as another presently after styled them. 
h Late Covenant assorted, 1643. p. 14.  The Prologue of this Tragedy began with Honorius and Arcadius; the Acts and Scenes are most of them past, and now, saith he, it is come to its Epilogue, and the Witnesses are ready to draw the Stage. Be with them therefore; Act your part, knowing that God is not far off to make Satan's Synagogue bow down at the feet of the true Church. By which it appears that some of you could be content not only to read and see this horrid Tragedy, but to be Actors in it: persuading yourselves you saw the witnesses rising again and the Saints sitting in the Throne. So we were told the next year, that they who took the Oxford-Covenant, had entered in Covenant with the Devil, to serve him, to work and stand up for him, to do as be doth, open his mouth in blasphemy against God, his Name, his Tabernade, and them that dwell in Heaven 
i Ib. pag. 9  i. e. these Reformers taken up from the Stage, to the high places of Power. There they sat deriding us on Earth; and this man, for his part, said he, would laugh in spite of the Devil. 
k Ib. p. 10.  And what was this ridiculous sight think you? I'll tell you: The King's party were sworn by Covenant to endeavour the maintenance of Religion, and the Subjects Liberty. This and His Majesty's most sacred protestation made a Comedy for him, when the Tragedy was ended; and the Devil himself (how should he, when the man dwell in Heaven?) could not spoil the sport. By which I see you are not enemies to these recreations when the humour takes you; but would rather have all the mirth to yourselves. For we must not so much as smile at all these follies, unless we can be content to be thought profane; not venture without trembling to go and see a Play; for who can be secure 
l Sober Answ. p. 180.  saith Phil. of seeing and hearing no wickedness there?  N. C. 
That's a Question would be resolved.  C. 
It's as idle as all the rest. For many of those which are daily Acted are to be seen in Print.  N. C. 
Well! I never heard of any good, but of much hurt, that hath come by Plays.  C. 
There are many other things of which you may say the same, and yet they may be innocent. But I can tell you of some good.  N. C. 
What is that?  C. 
The old History of Friar Francis being Acted by the then Earl of Sussex, his Players at Linn in Norfolk, wherein a Woman was presented, who doting upon a young Gentleman had (the more securely to enjoy his affection) secretly murdered her Husband, whose Ghost haunted her, and at divers times in her most solitary retirements stood before her; there was a Towns-woman till then of good repute, who finding her Conscience at this sight extremely troubled, suddenly shrieked and cried out, O my Husband, my Husband, I see the Ghost of my Husband fiercely threatening and menacing me. At which shrill unexpected outcry the people about her being amazed, they enquired the reason of it. When presently without any further urging, she told them that not seven years ago, to be possessed of such a Gentleman (whom she named) she had poisoned her Husband, whose fearful Image personated itself (they are the words of my Author 
m Mr. Tho. Heywood, the Actors Vindic. Book third. ) in the shape of that Ghost. This she also voluntarily confessed before the Justices and was condemned for it; of all which there were many eye-witnesses (besides the Actors) living a little before this was written. 
n In King James his reign, as appears by the Book.   N. C. 
So! Conscience it seems hath been awakened at a Play. No wonder than you say one of W. B 's Sermons is no better than a Play. 
o Pag. 187.   C. 
I have left off now to wonder that he makes no Conscience of what he saith. This I have shown you is a forgery of his own; which he hath further improved in his Preface into these lying words, which you heard before, One of his Sermons is not so good as a Play. 
p Pag. 20.  He hath a dispensation it should seem to write as he list; by which means he is able to confute any Book, even the Bible itself. It is but changing the words, and leaving out some, or putting in others, according to his liking, and then they are for his purpose, to declaim against. Of this Legerdemain there are so many instances in his Book, that they alone are sufficient to make a Volumn, if I should go about to discover them all. If I say, it would not be amiss, that their folly were a little chastised, who fancy they are persecuted when they are not. 
q Friendly Debate, p. 190.  He shall tell you that I say, They who fancy themselves persecuted, aught to be chastised. 
r P. 256. of his Answ.  If I say you account him a painful Preacher 
f Friendly Debate, p. 194.  who preaches often; he shall say, that I make you confess, you call him a plain Preacher who preaches often: As if we were so silly, saith he, as to think that to preach plainly, and to preach often were the same thing. 
t P. 267. of his Answ.  Would not one think either that this man could not read, or read with other men's eyes, or else come to ill-disposed and with such naughty affections, that they disturbed his light? It is painful Preachers as clear as can be in my Book, and plain P●eachers as manifestly in his. He is like those people in Lucian 
u In his true Hist. Book first.  that had eyes to take in and out as they pleased themselves, or when they had lost their own eyes, borrowed of other men. He sees nothing I mean but what he pleases; and like the most of you, can be satisfied to believe others, and not see for himself.  N. C. 
You have made hast to get to the end of his Book, I perceive notwithstanding your high charge he is not much to blame in such like matters.  C. 
These offered themselves most readily to my thoughts, but if you have a mind to go further back, with all my heart.  N. C. 
You shall not lead me through the whole Book, if the labour be so tedious as you tell me.  C. 
I protest as Bishop Hall doth 
x Postscript to the defence of the humble Remonstrance.  in another case, that I never saw any writer, that would dare to profess Christian sincerity, so foully to overlash (and so shamefully to corrupt and pervert another's words) as he doth: as if he made no Conscience by what means he upholds a side, or wins a Proselyte. He would have you think, for instance, that I maintain, that the Gospel cherishes fear more than the Law, p. 41. when I only said that a Christian is moved by fear as well as hope, and that the things which the Gospel threatens us withal, are more terrible than the threaten of the Law. This is the manifest scope of my discourse: and I still maintain it to be true, that a man may be of an Evangelical Spirit who is moved to do his duty out of a fear of what Christ threatens, as much as out of a hope of what he promises. Nay, I do not see but one may have an Evang. Spirit, who is moved more by such fear than he is by hope, though that was not the thing I undertook to make good. It was only this; that it is not a just Character of a Gospel-Spirit, that it is put on rather by promises than threaten. This I said, and still say, is false, which is not to affirm, as he would have it, that the Gospel cherishes fear more than hope, but that it cherishes them equally; or rather that one may be a good Christian who is moved as much by the one as by the other. By this you see either how dull and stupid he is, or how maliciously disposed, who cannot understand so plain a discourse. And yet he would have you think he is so sagacious and hath so good a Nose that he can smell 
y Pag. 42 I smell what you would be at, etc.  my thoughts, even then when he misreports my words, you make, saith he, as if the Mosaical spirit did fear only temporal calamities upon Body and Goods, etc. That word only is his own, not mine, as you may see if you will compare our Books together, though I must tell you, all that he hath said to overthrow that position is of no more force than a small puff of wind; for they might, and I doubt not did, know under the Old Testament, that there was a life to come of misery and happiness, though it was not declared by Moses his Law. And so the mere Mosaical Legal Spirit (which we spoke of) may truly be said to fear only those calamities which were threatened by that carnal commandment. But he hath not done yet He makes you believe that I deny the Legal dispensation to be terrible and the Gospel comfortable, p. 44. which is a gross abuse; for my position was, that this is not the difference between the dispensations, that the one is terrible and the other comfortable; because both are terrible; and knowing the terror of the Lord, the Apostles persuaded men. This he could not but see, and therefore to make work for himself, pulled my words asunder. And as he could not find in his heart to speak a word of the Impertinences I noted in W. B. so he will needs undertake a defence of his words, when nothing is to be said, but what will make them worse. To trade in promises he tells you is a phrase good enough: but do what he can to trade, or to deal (which he puts in the room of it) in promises implies buying and selling, a traffic which quite overthrows his conceit of absolute promises. For we never heard of such Trades, that can have commodities brought home to them and left with them for nothing, and without so much as their enquiring after them. Nor can all his tugging set him clear from his contradiction in making the promises absolute, and yet conditional. If they be the one, they are not the other; nor can he ever bring them nearer than thus, that they may seem to be conditional, but indeed are not.  N. C. 
Hath not God promised absolutely to give belief and repentance to a certain number of Elect persons?  C. 
No.  N. C. 
Now I see plainly what you are.  C. 
Be not so confident: Neither his ●or your eyes are good, you have no considerable understanding in these mat●ers. For whatsoever intentions and purposes God hath of doing more for some persons than for others, there is no declaration of this made by the promises ●o them, but they all run conditionally. And if I had not ceased all wonder at ●hat this man talks, his boldness would ●●cite that passion now, in maintaining ●●is position against me, that God promises to some, do what they will, that ●hey shall repent and believe. This I denied, and he opposes me in it, as you ●ay see p. 37. of his Book. But those ●ery places, so unlucky he is in all things, ●●ich he brings to prove his assertion, ●re a strong confutation of 11 Ezek. ●9. 36. Ezek. 26. I will put a new spi●● into you, etc. For as these promises ●ere not made to some particular Elect person's, but to the whole Nation of the ●●●s, so he elsewhere by the same Prophet, (Chap. 18.31.) require them to make them a new heart and a new Spirit, supposing that otherways they should die. Nay, he expressly tells them immediately after this promise 
z Ezek. 11.21.  that as for thos● whose heart walked after their detestabl● things (notwithstanding that he had put 〈◊〉 new Spirit into them to walk in his Statutes) he would recompencetheir way upo● their own heads. All this shows he did nopromise to amend them and make the● walk in his ways whether they would o● no; but that he only assured them of hi● Grace and the means of being made better, which if they did not use, and mak● them a new Spirit, after God had put i● into their hearts, they were like to perish. Let him overthrow this if he ca● in as plain words as I have spoken it And there is another task also, and indeed the main business, if he will defend Mr. Br. which he hath not yet attempted; and that is to show that it i● proper to the New Testament Spirit to trad● most or altogether in absolute promise● He must reconcile this also with his ow● confession, that no body knows how to app● 〈…〉 promise to themselves 
a 〈…〉  and th●● 〈…〉 persons can depend on no promi●●● 〈…〉 are conditional. 
b 〈…〉  Ho● ●●en I pray you, can this be the mark ●f those that are in Covenant, to be be●● again by a promise, especially the absorbed promise, as I cite Mr. Br. words, 
c Friendly Debate, p. 44.  ●hough he will take no notice of it? Can ●hey be begotten without Faith? And can their faith depend on promises when there are none? Mr. Rutherford in my ●ind deals more sincerely and plainly with us, who tells us of a Believers relying ●nd confiding in Christ through instinct, and know no ground.  N. C. 
I do not think he says any such thing.  C. 
I assure you they are his words, 
d Sir none at the Abbey, June 25. 1645. p. 51.  if you can believe he saith true. And he tells you withal, that Faith is sometime from instinct of Grace, rather than from Light of discourse, especially when we first believe and have nothing but a mere command and know not whither the promise and the Saviour belong to us or not: Even as the Infant that can make no use of discourse, only trusts to the Mother or the Nurse for Milk by mere instinct, having neither promise nor experience for it. In like manner, he saith, afterward though the promise may be forgotten and out of mind, and the assurance that Christ loved me before the Worl● be none at all, a Believer yet may rely and confide in Christ through instinct and know no ground. This is t● speak out and not mince the matter▪ There are no absolute promises that you can find at first: but it is as well, for you can believe without them and know n● ground; and then afterward you find these absolute promises by the same secret instinct, as I suppose, for we can find none by all our discourse.  N. C. 
I did not intent to engage you● in this Dispute.  C. 
Nor I to enter farther into it, than was necessary to show you how unjustly he vapours upon this occasion, as if he had brought me upon my knees, when he hath not said one word to the business. He talks I remember of arrows 
e Preface, p. 31.  that he hath shot at me alone, whom he hath singled out from the rest of the Herd. But I find, would you think it? that there is no such way to be secure from them as to run to the mark. As for those that I have shot, I will take so much confidence as to think, that though like the Buck he may stand a while with the Arrows in his side, and while he is hot not feel them much, yet you shall see him fall at last.  N. C. 
The loudest Barkers are not always the sorest Biters.  C. 
I find it so. Few men have been more bawled against by others, than I have been by him. He raises such an outcry as the Philosophers were feigned to do against Lucian, 
In the Dialogue called the Fishermen.  when they cried Arm, Arm, against this common Enemy, etc. But after all I am whole and sound enough, he having rather snapped and nibbled at some little bits of my Book, than fastened solidly on any entire proposition in it. When I say that the most that sober men have said (as far as I can learn) concerning our respect to the recompense of reward, is, that he who doth well only in sight of it, is in a weak estate, but yet endowed with an Evangelical Spirit: 
f Friendly Debate, p. 27.  He leaves out these words, is in a weak estate; and then snarls and quarrels with me on this fashion: Unless he eye the glory of God, he hath no Evangelical Spirit. On this theme he makes a long declamation, though a very sorry one, and to no purpose; 
g P. 32, etc.  for it is not possible to separate these two, the one from the other.  N. C. 
I do not understand you.  C. 
Can a man give greater glory and honour to God than by quitting his present pleasures and other enjoyments, merely in hope of good things to come which he doth not see, but only takes God's word for? Doth he not magnify the Goodness, the Truth, the Faithfulness, the Power of God, and declare the high thoughts he hath of all these glorious Attributes, who relies purely on them for all his happiness? There is nothing plainer at first sight; upon which account I cannot retract what I have said, but he ought rather according to his promise, to write no more on this fashion. Let him reform his Sermons (a leaf or two of which he seems here to have transcribed) and talk more understandingly and discreetly of glorifying God. And above all things let him take care to expound the Scripture better, which he hath perverted most grossly twice or thrice in this very Argument. Who, before him, expounded those words Hosea 10.1. [Israel is an empty Vine, he bringeth forth fruit to himself] of their having respect only to their own good in their Actions, and not to God's glory? It is a place as many ways rendered and expounded as any I can now call to mind: H. Zanchy hath been at the pains to enumerate two interpretations of Rabbi Solomon, another of Dr. Kimchi, a fourth of Aben-Ezra's (which is St. Hieromes also) in short there are no less than 7. or 8. ways of explicating these words, and yet none of them so much as lean towards the sense which this great Censurer obtrudes upon us. Occolampadius and others observe that they may be read with an interrogation, doth he bring forth fruit to himself? that is, doth he think the Enemy will leave him any thing, who hath already stripped him so bare? No, he will take all away. Others render the words, He shall lay up the fruit, that is, of his sins. A third exposition is, he shall find no fruit, the reason is because of his ingratitude. The simplest sense of all Mercer thinks is this, as he is an empty vine, so he shall bring forth fruit like himself. i e. none at all. As much as to say, he is spoiled by the Enemy, and deprived by God of the power of increasing. This Zanchy also approves of as the best. But what needs so many words? He commends Mr. Calvin sometimes as one of the best interpreters in the world: 
h pag. 121. 269.  To Mr. Calvin therefore he shall go; who speaks not a syllable to this purpose; But after he ●ath mentioned several other senses approves of this above all. Israel is like a Vine, which having been spoiled one year, brings forth fruit again the next. The Lord vouchsafed his blessing to him, after he had let his vintage be destroyed. But what was the issue? The next words tell you; though God had let him bring forth fruit to himself not his Enemies, he grew worse rather than better thereby, and according to the multitude of his fruit, he multiplied his Altars. He that hath not these Books may look into the Dutch Annotations, who recite several expositions, but none of his. As for the Assemblies Annot: those printed 1645. speak not a word of it. But those of the 3rd. Edit: 1657. expound it first as Mr. Calvin doth, he brings forth fruit to himself, not to others; but consumes it on his own lusts and Idolatries; and then mentions some of those named before. There is but one that I have met withal who expounds the words of serving himself and he means thereby, pleasing himself in his sins.  N. C. 
What need you make all this stir about this place.  C. 
It is not a desight in multiplying words that makes me use so many in such an argument, but only a desire to convince you beyond contradiction, that he is a vain talker about the Scripture: one that muses and dreams over them, as I told you before, rather than meditates in them. And yet, like one that having a noisome breath censures the ill lungs of his neighbours, he hath the impudence to charge me most unjustly with this, that my Book is full of Scripture misinterpreted p. 142. Nay to wish, I do not spoil all the holy Scripture I meddle withal. p. 122. When he cannot name one I have spoiled or misinterpreted, and he himself I clearly discern, is no competent judge, whether a man allege the Scripture a right or not.  N. C. 
I am sure I am not; being unacquainted with Expositors.  C. 
And so are many of those who undertake to teach others: of whom the Quakers learned to apply the Scripture according to the sound of the words, not the sense. For they cite these words of another prophet 
i 5. Jerem. last.  as learnedly [the Priests bear rule by their means] to prove that our Ministers good live keep up their Authority, as this man doth the words now named, to prove that a good man must eye the glory of God and not only himself in what he doth; or the words of St. Paul [he hath chosen the weak things of this world to confound the mighty etc.] too prove that God recovers men out of defections and despair by mistakes or misapplications of holy Scripture. p. 75.  N. C. 
I think he hath shown how much you were mistaken (to say no worse) in that business.  C. 
He pulls one half of my words from the other, and then makes a long babble upon them, consisting very much of impertinent comparisons instead of clear proofs and reasons. I said that by fanciful applications of some Scripture, or other not belonging to their condition, well meaning people are cast down and again raised up etc. This he cannot deny: and yet takes notice only of the latter, their recovery by mistaking God's word, and lets the former pass, their falling into melancholy by the same me●●s. The reason is, because he had no Questions to ask about that, nor any stories out of which to draw this conclusion, that God brings men into despair, as he saith, he brings them out by mistaking his meaning in his word. But abate him that, and yet, he shall not hit the mark; for the business is not, as he states it whether a man's melancholy never had any considerable ground, because he was cured by mistake or misapplication of Scripture; 
k pag. 73.  but whether men do not both fall into melancholy and again are recovered out of it, merely by such mistakes or misapplicatins. I say they do; and why he doth not honestly confess it too, I cannot tell; unless it be that he may still keep such miserable Patients under his cure, which he is better able to perform by misapplying the holy Scripture than other ways. And that he may maintain this trade of comforting poor Souls with mere words without their sense, mark what a rabble of stories and examples he hath mustered up, which hang together with his conclusion like Harp and Harrow. These are some of his arguments. A man was cured of a dangerous imposthume by a stab which was intended to take away his life; therefore God cures men of their despair by misapplications of holy Scripture. St. Austin's life was saved by missing his way, when one lay in wait to kill him, therefore God delivers men from their trouble of mind, by missing the sense of his word. The Prophet Elijah was fed by Ravens, and Jericho's Walls fell down by Rams-horns; therefore God conveys peace into men's hearts by their fanciful interpretations and mistake of what he saith. These are some of his reasonings, which never a Rational Divine of them all can equal.  N. C. 
He saith God can do all this, and is able to cause the light of comfort to shine through the chinks of men's mistakes. p. 75.  C. 
He means that he doth do it, or else it is nothing to the business. And if there were not some chink or flaw in his brain he would have seen that he ought to say, he comforts them not only through the chinks of their mistakes, but by their mistakes. And he would have discerned also that these goodly Arguments which prove he can do this, prove that he can comfort them by a leaf or Sentence of any other Book, let it be what it will. And the more unlikely and improportionable 
m They are his words. pag. 75.  the means are whereby the cure is effected (suppose a bit of Tom Thumb or the like) the more it will redound to his glory, and get him greater honour, then if it 
l p. 73.74.  were by a piece of Scripture and that well understood.  N. C. 
Phy for shame!  C. 
This is the force of his reasoning, as appears further by the illustration which follows. A physician is more to be admired, he tells you, who deceives his melancholy into a cure, than he that sets him right by a long course of physic. The consequence of which is clearly this, that the more absurd the conceit is by which he cures him the more he is to be admired: and so the further a thing is from the mind of God, the more glory it will be to him, if a man receive comfort by it. This according to one of his resemblances, is like Elijahs being fed by a Raven, which 
n Ib. pag. 74.  was more like to beguile him, than feed him, etc. to bring him carrion rather than wholesome food.  N. C. 
I do not believe that God doth all that he can do.  C. 
Now you have overthrown all he hath said in a word. And happy would it be for him, and better much for you; if you could but teach him this one little piece of Logic. For this mad way of talking and preaching hath debauched Religion; and taught any man to set up for an instructor of others, who understood not common consequence. It is but putting on a bold face, and quoting a great many Scriptures, and scraping up some stories, and making a show with similitudes and examples, and then pitying all others and sighing over them as strangers to the Mind and Methods of God; and without any more ado they shall be taken for great men by the Ignorant. They can commence Master of the highest knowledge in an instant: And without any study understand the mind of the Spirit. Or if they do not understand it, the difference is not so great but it may do as well. For Scripture misinterpreted can bring comfort from God and therefore why not other things. Say what you will, this confident folly shall be maintained. Such men as this are resolved, it is plain, not only to countenance and defend the never to be too much lamented misinterpretation of God's holy word, but to encourage and promote it; by interessing God in it, nay, making it for his greater glory to convey peace into men's souls by this means.  N. C. 
God forbidden any man should be so resolved.  C. 
Rather than acknowledge their errors, I mean, or be thought to have less of the Spirit of God, than indeed they have; they will justify all their fancies, and abuses of God's Word: and by new faults maintain the old. And whatsoever this man pretends, I doubt not, but the ground of that wrath which he, and others like to him, have conceived against me, is only this; that they find their follies laid open and exposed to the view of the World. They are not so much concerned for the credit of Religion, as appears by his being contented the Scripture should be still misinterpreted, as for their own credit, which they think is impaired. Rather than suffer this, what is there they will not endure? To oppose the Army, were it on foot again, would be without any control (for any thing I can see) to resist the Holy Ghost, for that mighty things have been done by them cannot be denied. 
o Continuation of Friend's, Debate, ●. 156.   N. C. 
Meddle not with these things.  C. 
No, we must let it pass for the Word of God, if a Reformer tell us that be staggers not at the promise through unbelief, 
p Ib. p. 162.  though it will puzzle you I believe, to find a promise to encourage you to reform the Church after your patterns against the will of your Prince.  N. C. 
I know none.  C. 
I'll try to help you out, from the writings of those Ministers who urged the taking of the Covenant by this Argument, We have seen the day of the Lords power in this Land, wherein his people have most willingly offered themselves in multitudes like the dew of the Morning. 
q Answer to the reply of the Ministers of Aberde. p. 15.  If the people be but willing to assist you, presently you will find promises to encourage you in your designs—  N. C. 
I shall leave you, if you proceed at this rate.  C. 
Stay a little. You cannot be content I am sure that this man should curtail the Scripture, as he doth my words, to make it seem on his side.  N. C. 
He is not guilty of that, I hope.  C. 
Read the 3. Coloss. 23, 24. to which he refers you 
r P. 33.  for a proof of what he saith about looking to our reward, though little to his purpose. Whatsoever you do, do it hearty as unto the Lord; knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance. For ye serve the Lord Christ. So he quotes the place; but leaves out these material words for the finding the sense, [and not unto men] and then expounds it thus; That we must have an eye to the glory of God and Christ in what we do, or else we shall not receive the reward, whereas the Apostle doth not oppose serving the Lord to serving themselves, but to serving men (as appears by the words which he laid aside, as lying cross in his way) and would have them please their Masters though Heathens, thinking all the while they were doing a part of Christ's work; who would certainly pay them their wages, because they were his Servants. By this you see what men will do to serve their own cause, and how easy a matter it is presently to stuff up a Book and to crowd into it a number of good words and yet not write good sense. Rather than fail, there is a way to strain the holy Scriptures, and set them upon the rack, that they may reach their purpose; as he doth those words of the Apostle [supposing gain is Godliness 
s 1 Tim. 6.5. pag. 36. ] to reprove those who Act only out of a light of the recompense of reward. As if the Apostle spoke there of gaining Heaven, and these were the men from whom we must withdraw ourselves—  N. C. 
No more, good Sir; these are the perverse dispute, I doubt, of men of corrupt minds, which the Apostle there speaks of.  C. 
Very near of kin to them. But if I should proceed to show you how he hath perverted the sense of a great number of other Scriptures which he hath meddled withal, that alone would hold us half as long as we have been already. They are not words I cast out at random, but I speak deliberately, and as I think. Nor have I time to reckon up all the rest of the places in my Book, where he hath left out words, or abused the sense: I will name only a few more, when I mention Prayer, communion with God, and Meditation, as instances of such duties as may be performed between God and ourselves, and not such as are expressed in life and manners, p. 40. He tells you that I take these to be the things which are so airy and refined that no body can feel them, no, not with his most serious thoughts. 
t P. 56. of his Book.  And because I affirmed that commonly well meaning people fancy themselves deserted by God, when they are not (which is sober and good sense, and the sum of what I said) he is in a rage, and fancies the Devil to be entered into me, nay, no less than seven Devils; and cries out, the Lord rebuke you. 
u Ib. p. 72  For was our Saviour, saith he, a melancholy and fanciful person, etc. what led him to that wild discourse, I know not, unless it were his love to contradict, and his great wrath and passion against me. Which evil Spirits (to speak in his own language) I hope have but a short time, they rage, and tear, and foam, and (as his words are) sputter so much. For he tells you I carp at God, and cast smiles of scorn and derision upon the words of the Holy Ghost, and intimates I am approaching towards the Blasphemy against it; and had almost said I am in the same condition with Simon Magus. 
x All this stuff you may find. p. 76, 77.  And what is all this Holy bluster about? Nothing but this, what I spoke of many persons now, he would have you think was meant of all that ever were, even of our Saviour himself: and my exposing their fond talk of shinings in and Sealing to that shame which it deserves, he makes account is an abuse of the language of the Holy Ghost. And yet they themselves cannot but smile at the Pope when he pretends to the Holy Ghost, and at his Priests who tell us of Miracles and apparitions of Christ; and the Anabaptists in the beginning of the Reformation, who talk of Illuminations, and ecstasies; and the wild people of the late times, when they bragged of their anointings, and teachings, and that they were the people of the Lord: All which are Scripture phrases, but by them most ridiculously used and applied to themselves, as you cannot but acknowledge, what is the matter then, that you are so angry with me for a smile or two? would you only have the Monopoly of these phrases? will you have no body to trade in them (as W. B. speaks) but only yourselves? And must we think you are full of the Spirit when you are only full of Scripture words, Shinings and Sealing, and such like? Is it not possible to charge you with folly, but we must be thought to wound the blessed Creator too, and to be offended at the Holy Ghost? 
y Pag. 76.  Away with these proud conceits. Do not imagine God and yourselves to be so united, nor call all your own fancies, by the name of Divine Mysteries.  N. C. 
Take heed how you speak against Gospel-Mysteries.  C. 
They are your Mysteries, not the Gospel's, which you make such a stir about, and call him profane who hath not the same reverence for them, which you have yourselves. And thus the Egyptians, I remember, when they worshipped Apes, Storks and Dogs, said, those are very great Mysteries; be not too bold in talking against them. As if, said Lucian, there were any need of a Mystery, or it were such a secret piece of wisdom, by which we know Gods to be Gods, and Dogs to be Dogs. 
z Dialogue call●● Council of the God●.   N. C. 
I confess the Gospel-Mysteries are plain now, being revealed by the Spirit in the Apostles, as we have already discoursed.  C. 
It is very true. Hold to those and we shall have no difference about such matters. But let this man rave as long as he pleases, and lift up his Nose to the Skies, if he can; he shall never persuade me that you are more extraordinarily enlightened; and understand more of them than other men; unless I hear you talk more wisely. Nor shall I think that I offend when I say many of you take their sudden fancies for gleams of glory, and irradiations of the Holy Ghost. Let him babble also till his tongue be weary about experiences, I shall only believe that he was in love with wrangling and hearing himself talk perpetually. For I stated that Doctrine plainly enough, but he takes no notice of it: and would have those, who will read his Book and never look into mine, believe upon his word that I am an Enemy to Christian experience, 
a Pag. 158.  and persuade them to disbelieve it; 
b Pag. 160.  and in short, am an Anti-experimentist.  N. C. 
You have made me out of love with hard words.  C. 
It's his own (p. 158.) a compound of Greek and Latin, and therefore worse than Heterodoximony.  N. C. 
What a word is that?  C. 
O it makes a dreadful noise, and is very effectual to persuade the People that they hear a Pope not squeak, but roar in our Belly. So he would have you think, that some Preachers make the Pulpits Echo to Rome ever and anon; and by their Heterodoximony have inflamed the People's fears 
c R●bailding of London encouraged p. 184. . But (to let that pass) he might as well have said I jeered at keeping the Lordsday (commonly called the Sabbath) as at laying up and communicating experiences, for they are both put together in my Book p. 167. This, one would think, he was sensible of, for mentioning this passage out of my Book afterward 
d p. 162. of his Book. , and speaking of other partculars, he leaves out this; and then basely slanders me for putting experiences or those that treasure up and communicate them, among the workers of iniquity. When I only said, that the power of godliness, did not consist in such things as these. But there is 50● much folly which he pours out on this subject, that it would make too great a part of a Book to lay them open. Would you think any man should be so senseless, as, when I smile at a man that brings his own experience to prove the truth of Christianity, to tell me ●f the experience the World hath had of the Gospel being propagated far and near? Is this (to omit what might be otherwise replied) any of your particular experiences? Do you feel that the Jews are a miserable People at this day, which is another thing he mentions? If we must write Books at this rate, it will be endless; for a man must be forced to write the same things over and over again to convince such opposers. And therefore far him well; let him enjoy all his idle conceits about holidays, and tell us of their unwillingness to keep such days as we do not keep ourselves 
e St. Swethen, St Georg, etc. p. 151. ; that this Saint is better than that; and say, as he doth profanely, that they are disposed to keep a Fast rather than a Festival in remembrance of St. Bartholomew 
f They are his own words. p. 153. ; one of the Holy Apostles, to whom some part of the World was beholden for preaching the Gospel: Let him prefer his Major Gen. if he will before him, and make this an Argument against observing our holidays, because they are no better observed 
g p. 155. ; I resolve not to trouble myself with such matters, nor all the rest of his impertinencies on this subject.  N. C. 
I am glad of it with all my heart; I hope we are almost at an end.  C. 
And I am as glad that he hath bestowed his six week; time (almost) in abusing me and perverting the sense of my Book, if it have kept him from worse employment.  N. C, 
I know not what you aim at.  C. 
The same that a Gentleman of a neighbouring Nation did, who was used by another Phil. 
h Philarchus who writ againt Balzac.  just as I have been by this, and his comfort I take to myself. This little misch of which is done me, may be of some use 〈◊〉 the Commonwealth: and while malice amuses itself about matters of this concernment, it may not find leisure to intermeddle in affairs of higher moment. They that employ their time in perverting the sense of Books, and falsifying men's Works, are of such a disposition, that it is possible (as this man speaks) they might have been busied in forging of Wills, or cliping of Money. And he that comes only to desire a Licence or Privilege for a Book 
i As he did to Signior Ld. Chaac. of France in a letter, to whom these passages are. , might have sued for a Pardon or a Reprieve. It is much better that injustice should sport itself in the spoiling of a poor Dialogue, than that it should trouble the public tranquillity; and that it should transpose words and alter periods, than remove the bounds of lands, or perplex men's estates. To say the truth, it is the most innocent employment that Vice can have; and I might be thought to have served my Country, if I had done no more than find such idle people some work, who might have proved dangerous Citizens, if they had not chosen to be ridiculous Censurers.  N. C. 
I hope you do not apply all this to him.  C. 
I must, at least, let him know thus much. That I am perfectly well content if the heat of his brains exhale this way, and his intemperate rage find no other vent. If he know not what to do with his zeal, let him continue to spend it on me, rather than suffer it to be more dangerously employed. If this scope and liberty which he gives to his folly, will go no further, he may proceed as he hath begun. And let him call in what assistance he please to pelt me, and pour whole showers of stones upon me, it is like I may be able (as that Gentleman said in his case) I may be able to build myself a Monument with those stones, which Wrath and Malice hurl at me, without doing me any harm.  N. C. 
You will have good luck then, for you may expect other kind of stones than you think of, if all be true that he saith; Hailstones or Thunderbolts, for he tells you, he hath but anticipated others that would have come against you in a whirlwind, and all in Thunderclaps (whereas he speaks in a still and gentle voice) which might have broken all your bones 
k Preface 31. .  C. 
Pish! They will prove but the noise of Potguns, I warrant you. And I look upon this but as a Vapour, and a piece of that Vanity, I told you he is guilty of; which hath contrived I cannot tell how many punishments for me. It is but a small matter that in the beginning of his Preface he supposes I deserve to be cut off 
l pag. 3● : he can tell you the manner of it. Either by a Leprosy like Gehazi, or by a worse means; being in as much danger as most men he knows to die like Herod of the lousy disease 
m They are his words. pag. 80. . And why so, think you?  N. C. 
Your pride and insolence is so great as he tells you; as appears particularly by telling us of W. B. lousy similitudes; which he cannot divine how it should come into your mind, unless your head be already full of louse.  C. 
Is not his pride and insolence greater than that he lays to my charge, who presumes, you see, there can be no good Reason for a thing, if he do not know it? Let him know now, once for all, that I did not throw any word carelessly into my Paper (as he doth) but wrote deliberately and gave such Epithets to things as I judged upon consideration most proper: if he like me the worse for this, I care not; I like myself the better.  N. C. 
Can you have any reason for so Vile an Epithet.  C. 
Suppose I had learned it out of your Books and only returned your own words back again to you; where had the fault been? I am sure I find some of your Spirit in times past, called the Orders in the Common-prayer Book, carnal, beggarly, lousy and Antichristian. 
n Dr. Bancrost's Sermon at Paul's Cross. p. 20.   N. C. 
But you should not have imitated such beggarly language.  C. 
Nor W. B. used such beggarly similitudes. For the true Reason, 
o I told you I had a good one continuation. p. 116  I assure you, of that Epithet, was this; that he compares an unconverted person to a Beggar, who drops louse as the other doth sins where ever he goes. You will say (these are his words 
p Sinfulness of sin etc. p. 27. which hath his name to it. 1667. ) a Beggar is full of vermin that drops his vermin, wheresoever he goes. So men not converted, they are dropping their vermin where ever they go. If they come in good company, they are dropping their vermin there; if they come in bad, they are dropping their vermin there. Why? because they are full of vermin, full of sin. What think you? will he be satisfied now?  N. C. 
I am even nauseated with the mention of vermin so often.  C. 
It would do well, now that I have told him how this Epithet came into my mind, if he would go to W. B. and desire to know how this similitude came into his. For this should put his divining faculty, I should think, harder to it than the other: since he is more kind, no doubt, to him than he was to me, and will not suppose his head to be full of these creepers. How is it possible then that they should come into his mind? especially if you consider, that they are now past the Equinoctial of their suffering; he having almost said, that they are run through all the twelve signs of that Zodiac.  N. C. 
I did not think you would have mentioned this any more; and now me thinks it comes in by the head and shoulders.  C. 
There is nothing more apposite, else you should have heard of it no more. For according to that famous Cosmographer Don Quixote 
q Part. 2. chap. 29. —  N. C. 
That's as bad as Brachygrapher.  C. 
No, it's grown a common word and as well known as if you say a describer of the world.  N. C. 
Well; go on.  C. 
According to him, I say, as soon as ever any ship hath passed the Equinoctial, immediately all the Lice die, so that there is not one to be found about any man there, if you would give its weight in gold for it. And therefore he may spare that request which Don Quixot made to Sancho whom he beseeched to grope a little (when he was in doubt where they were as they sailed in the enchanted Bark) for if he found never a live thing about him, he might be sure they had cut the line. There needs no more labour but to scratch his head for a Reason to satisfy this inquisitive Gentleman, how one so clean, so free from all vermin, should have such conceits crawling in his head.  N. C. 
This jesting doth not become you.  C. 
Had I not better laugh, than be angry at his folly? would you have me go about to confute seriously all that he talks about louse and the lousy disease, and the black and yellow Jaundice, 
r pag. 88  with such like scabby stuff? (do not be angry; that is one of the things he there mentions.)  N. C. 
No. But you find fault with his endeavours to be witty.  C. 
You have very lucky words, and express my mind very well: Wit is not a thing to be studied or learned; men lose it (as is apparent by this man) in seeking for it: and while they labour to be facetious they become ridiculous. Is there any thing more monstrous than a jest half English and half Latin? This is to play the fool in two languages: and to make a man's self a laughing stock to the Wise, without being admired by the Vulgar.  N. C. 
I confess I understand not his Latin.  C. 
He pleases himself in such English jests as would never have come into an ingenious man's head; and which a man of ordinary wit would have thrown away, had they offered themselves.  N. C. 
You will be thought intolerably proud for this very censure.  C. 
It must be by those who think it a mighty matter, to hit now and then upon a pleasant conceit. And if they speak some things with a grateful sharpness, find it an hard matter to be humble.  N. C. 
I pray Sir, is it not the hardest thing in the world?  C. 
To those who have but a superficial sense of their Creator. But to others who live in a continual remembrance of him, and are deeply sensible that they are but what he made them and helped them to be, it is the most natural and easy thing that belongs to our duty. But what do you tell me of pride when he is guilty of such presumption as I have now named; and before I die of the lousy disease, threatens me with perpetual barrenness (p. 27) the blessing of Cham (p. 29. 
s Surely the blessing of Cham will be upon you. ) wrath to the uttermost (p. 54.) and after all this, a portion worse than Dives had in the place of Torment p. 80. And with some kind of gust he tells me, that God will certainly reward me for what I have done, either in this world or in the next. As if it were some pleasure to think, how I shall be treated there, though they cannot show their kindness to me here. But with such Bugbears they have been wont to affright others before me upon small occasions. When Mr. Coleman I remember did but desire that as few things might be established jure Divino, as might well be; presently he was rattled with a what Sir? Will you not speak for your Master's right? are you ashamed to plead his cause. Take heed that fearful threatening befall not you 8. Mark. 38. Whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of my words etc. of him shall the Son of man be ashamed etc. 
t Brief view of Mr. Coleman's Model. pag. 5. 1645.  And Melancthon hath also observed, 
u Upon 16 Rom. 18.  that they who defend absurd things when they want arguments, are apt to betake themselves to thundering of anathemas against their Adversaries, to denouncing curses, to evil speaking or threatening of them. But no body need be troubled at this, for I am of his mind who said, that all the presages or wishes of Enemies are of the same power with the imprecations of Poets, and the false bruits of Fame, which sound very dreadfully, but are able to do us no harm.  N. C. 
Nor would he do you any harm if he could, but rather save you from it.  C. 
But can he pass his word for others too? Time was he saith, when if a man had spoken Irish half so distinctly, as I speak Fanatic, he had been sure enough trussed up for a spy. 
x pag. 156. first of them.  These words, me thinks, carry a scurvy intimation in them of the danger I should be in if that time return again.  N, C. 
Do not strain things beyond their meaning.  C. 
No I will as soon swing by the head in a string, as deal with him after that manner he hath done with me. I have reported his words just as they are, and what you think of them, I will think too.  N. C. 
I think they are none of the handsomest language, but had no bad intention.  C. 
Let it be so then. I am resolved not to wrangle about any thing that may have a fair interpretation: though I must tell you, he carps and wrangles with me without any cause in the world. Of which vice I must give you some instances according to my promise in the beginning: and because it is very late, they shall be but two, which lie also very near together.  
Mention being made in the Friendly Debate of three sorts of N. C. the last of which (as you may see p. 206. etc.) are said to be between both, he quarrels because they were not placed in the middle, being a middle sort of men between the two Extremes, and by the middle we must come at the Extremes 
y See his Book pag. 218. : And yet this is the very man, who in another case gives advice quite contrary to this, and reasons too why the middle should come last. The Building of the City, I mean, he would have begin at both ends, where it stayed, for every body knows (mark his words 
z Rebuild: of London Discourse. 19 p. 128. ) that it is better to proceed from extremes to the middle, (for virtue is in the middle) to build first at both ends or extremes of the City, and so to proceed to the middle, from the two poles as it were to the Centre.  N. C. 
I did not think men could cross themselves on this fashion.  C. 
Nothing more easy; when they are resolved to be cross to others in every thing.  N. C. 
It seems there is one rule for building of Cities, and another for building of Books, if you will let me so speak.  C. 
As you please. But he crosses this rule he hath made for me, once more in that Book. For when he had told us of two Proverbs, nothing venture, nothing have, and venture all, and lose all; both which sometimes proves true; he than brings us to the middle way, which he saith, is best; neither venture all, nor venture nothing, but venture something though not all. 
a Discourse 40. p. 245.   N. C. 
I begin to fear he hath an itch of finding fault where there is none: for how should a man know what the middle between two extremes is, till he first know them?  C. 
It's well that I can extort that little confession from you. Look a little further, and tell me what you think of that passage p. 220. where upon occasion of my desiring those Ministers who are not against the Common-Prayer, that they would instruct the People in the Truth, and bring them to a modest and peaceable temper, in order to a compliance with us, he tells me in a jeering way, Sir they are your journeymen, and you may command them what you please, or rather your poor Apprentices, etc. as if I desired them to do us service (which God knows was not in my thoughts) and not to serve the Truth and Peace of the Church of Christ. This is mere perverseness of spirit; and argues he did not read or write with a good mind, but studies more to keep up a party, than to promote true Christian Religion.  N. C. 
However he tells you, they can do nothing for the making up the breach. Some have tried to satisfy the People about joining in a Form of Prayer etc. and it will not do. p. 223.  C. 
He speaks diffidently and saith, Some it may be have tried. But let us take it for a certainty, and since you mention it let me say a few things briefly to it. First, he acknowledges then the gross ignorance and stupidity of your People (which I told you of the last time) who will sooner join with Quakers as he saith more than once 
b p. 15. and 227. ; than with us of the Church of England. For that is his argument against persuading them to be reconciled to us, that the next news we may hear of them shall be, that they have joined themselves to the Anabaptists, or to the Quakers, etc. But Secondly, it would be duly considered and sadly laid to heart, how they came by these prejudices and antipathies against so sober a way of worshipping God as is among us. Let those mis-zealous men saith Bp. Hall 
c Answer to the Vindication of Smectym. Paragr. 13 , who have infused these distastes into well meaning Souls; See how they will answer it at the great day to the Judge of quick and dead. Surely if the case were mine, I should fear it would fall heavy upon my Soul. Thirdly, let them all come back themselves to our Congregations, though they cannot bring the people with them. They will thereby do what in them lies to take away the scandal they have given; and they will also leave those people, who when the humour takes them may leave them, and run to the wild sects where still they may enjoy more Liberty. It was a good Memento of Mr. greenham's to Brown when he first separated from our Church, that he hoped he might be better informed and return again to us, but he bid him bethink himself what would become of those poor Souls whom he had seduced, and were carried away, who might run further and further from us, but never be reclaimed. His words proved true, for Brown returned and died a Member of the Church of England, but his Sect remains to the great disturbance of it to this day. It had been well if all your Ministers of this generation had thought of this, and so not begun to lead away so many Souls into a mischievous Schism, who may never be restored: but as it is, if they cannot reduce them, let them come back themselves, and not be worse than the Father of the Separation. And Fourthly, I have hope hereby that they may do some good, whatsoever this man saith, upon the better part of your People; if they set themselves to it unanimously and with all their heart. For what cannot be done by one man alone (whose unsuccessful labours be untruly talks of) might be done to great purpose if all were of the same pious mind, and joined in the same good work by Doctrine and Example: declaring that neither they nor their Predecessors ever held there were any such foul corruptions in our Worship or Government as should be a just ground for Separation. And Lastly, if there be no hope at all of this; what makes this Gentleman talk of an Accommodation and Union between C. and N, C. and that a purpose of it seemed to be as it were publishing very lately 
d Preface. p. 9 ? Sure he knows not the meaning of those words, or else contradicts himself, which it is as easy for him to do, as it is to write.  N. C. 
That word Schism which you mentioned just now, is harder to understand than Union. For he seems to plead the same reason for our Separation from you, which is alleged for your Separation from Rome.  C. 
That's one of his miserable shifts and excuses which he makes for things that are sinful, Is he so little a Divine as to think we separated from the Church of Rome because they impose terms of Communion which are unnecessary to be imposed. 
e p. 134.   N. C. 
That might have been left out I think: for he adds, and which our Conscience cannot submit unto.  C. 
But is he in good earnest? May we leave a Church without sin, whensoever it imposes any thing that our Consciences will not let us submit unto?  N. C. 
Pray do you determine.  C. 
You shall determine it yourselves, for we have not time to discuss this matter thoroughly now. Pray tell me upon what account did you accuse the Independents of Schism heretofore? They would not in Conscience submit to your Government? and yet Mr. Jenkins calls it, The Schism of Independency 
f ●ind Guide guided. p. 11. and so doth Mr. Edward's Antopolog. p. 248. ; and it is the third general Reason given by the London Ministers in their Letter to the Assembly, against Toleration, That Independency is a Schism; which they prove by such Arguments as I cited in our first Debate out of your own Authors (which this man wisely passes over) and among the rest by this; they separate from a true Church, and therefore make a Schism. There was one I know who replied upon this, that it is no true Church which uses compulsion; but he was answered immediately, than the Churches of New England are false Churches, for they will suffer no Sectaries neither. But we must not debate this further unless there be another occasion; and I must also pass by several things I thought to have said about scandal, because it is not fit to weary you. It shall suffice to admonish you of that good rule of Mr. Baxter, 
☞  It is a private uncatholique Principle, that a Minister should more fear or avoid the offending and hurting of his own particular flock, than the offending and hurting of the Catholic Church, or of many particular Churches, where the interest of Christ and the Gospel is greater etc. 
g True Catholic Church p. 144.  If Philagathus had considered this, or what I said the last time, he would not have made that lame excuse for your Ministers which you meet withal, p. 130. Which shows he had a mind to make a Book, rather than an Answer. Such another is that which he makes for their meeting in time of Divine Service: 
h pag. 15.  which he could not but know is a covering a great deal too short for them. Do they therefore meet at that time because the Churches will not hold all our people? open thy mouth man, as at other times, and speak out; Is this the cause dost thou verily think that they hold their Assemblies at those hours when we hold ours? Let him assure himself, this very thing hath laid such as he is very low in the opinion of some who had better thoughts of them before; that they strain themselves on this fashion to allege those for the reasons of their brethren's actions, which they know in their consciences are not the reasons. It is a great discredit to themselves, and an affront withal to their Neighbours.  N.C. 
How so?  C. 
By imagining them so silly as to be put off with such flams as these. But we may pardon such little things in a man who can presume many things to be true without any reason at all. Nay, he can presume (contrary to reason, and the very scope of my discourse as I have shown you) that some things which I had learned more than ordinary, contain an enumeration of all the material points our Minister hath preached to us, after, it may be, six years' residence with us. 
i They are his own words. p. 138.  And that I would turn one of them if need were (p. 147.) and that if our Governors should put forth their hands and touch all we have, we would curse them as the Devil 
* You see whom he imitates in this wicked presumption.  said Job would curse God, though not to their faces, yet behind their backs. p. 28. and that they themselves would not be so rigorous as they were, if they had power again, p. 84.  N. C. 
Some of them, he saith, would not, etc.  C. 
who are they? A very worthy man (as he tells you he is p. 111) the Author of Nehushtan will not have it lawful to tolerate the Common-Prayer. His Auditors you need not question are of that mind, and thought those Sermons would do well to be printed to make more Proselytes. How many they are we know not, but will not they be earnest think you, had they power, for the abolishing of the Liturgy as a Monument of Idolatry? And when indulgence was consented unto in some cases, was it not conditioned expressly, that it should not extend to tolerate the use of the common-prayer in any place whatsoever 
k Four Bills and propositions, ordered to be printed, 11 March, 1647. p. 32. ? How shall we be sure that such stiff men would be more yielding, if they were armed with their former strength? But this man hath such a strong belief (otherwise called conceit) that he can presume any thing; no less than this, that he deserves some Countenance from our Governors for writing this goodly Book: 
l Preface, p. 35.  and from his party, no doubt, for presuming so lustily for them, that there is no such principle as this which the N. C. hold, that things lawful enough in themselves, become unlawful when they are once enjoined in the worship of God. 
m P. 105.  When the contrary is so apparent that some say it is Idolatry to use such things.  N. C. 
You tell me news.  C. 
It is easier a great deal to write a Book about this bigger than any I have made, than to say all those things which we have now discoursed. Did I not tell you the last time of one who makes the imposing of any Form, model, or method of worship, though made by a Council of Elect Angels, to be an usurpation of Divine Authority, and a setting up of a man's self for God? 
n Continuation of the Friendly Debate, p. 386. etc.  How come you to be so forgetful?  N. C. 
Now I remember it. more words.  C. 
Let me tell you, he is not singular in this, but it is a common opinion spread very much among you, that no man on Earth hath power in matters of Religion 
o Christ on his Throne p. 60.  〈◊〉 and therefore any ordinances about such matters are an Evacuation of Christ's Death, an apparent Apostasy from him, and suit not with the liberty of the Gospel, wherewith Christ hath made us free. The most moderate of this sort of men, and many that go under the denomination of Presbyterians, tells us that it is an invasion of their Christian Liberty, which they ought to maintain: But the more zealous say it is an invasion of Christ's own royal Prerogative, which is incommunicable to any, to all the powers on Earth, and which they ought not to betray, to prescribe rules to men which he hath not enjoined. 
p Vindic. of Indep. Churches.  You may as well bring a clean thing out of an unclean, as make a Spiritual Extraction out of a secular root, saith one, 
q Reply of two of the Brethren to A. S.  Christ hath committed the power of the Keys to every particular member of the Church and will of every one demand an account, saith another. 
r Mr. eaton's Sermon at Knuttesford.  The power of the Representatives shall not extend to things Spiritual or Evangelical, said the Agreement of the people. 
s Pag. 24.20. Jan. 1649.  All which was so well known not long ago, that one told them in plain terms, they made the civil Magistrate a Kind of Bat i e. confined him to the twilight of Nature: And that the Child may not adventure to take his lesson out of any Book, but Natures primer. 
t Apology. for Mr. J. Goodwin. 1653. p. 5.  In short, this is an opinion as old as the Second Admonition in Qu. Elizabeth's time, where you find these words, though there were never an ill word or sentence in all the Form of our Prayers, yet to appoint that Form to be used, though the words be good, the use is naught. What doth Phil. think now of his presumptuous undertaking in the behalf of the N. C.? And what will he do for all those who are of this opinion, whom he hath with full mouth proclaimed Rebels 
u A rebellious Principle, it is, etc. your mouth waters to be calling N. C. Rebels, Ib. ?  N. C. 
Let them agree it among themselves, for I am none of them; and if you will, let them take the rest which concerns that matter among them, and do what they will with it.  C. 
I could make fine sport, if I should enter further into that wild discourse. For like a distracted man he runs from the point in hand, and cries out, God forbidden that any of them should say, that things commanded by God ought not to be done, if seconded by the command of the Magistrate—  N. C. 
If you love me do not follow that wild goose chase, as we call it. I know very well we were speaking of indifferent things, and so lawful in themselves; not of things necessary.  C. 
I have done, and shall only note two or three more of his presumptions. To lie a soak in the blood of Christ, he presumes, is an allusion to what is said, of the Adamant Stone steeping in the blood of a Goat, p. 46. which conceit, as ill luck would have it, is quite contrary to another presumption which he relies much upon, that these men speak to Tradesmen, to Farmers or Ploughmen 
x See pag. 36. and p. 264.  (and therefore may be allowed rude expressions) who know as much what belongs to Adamants, as you know what belongs to Algebra.  N. C. 
Divines do ordinarily make use of this, as he tells you.  C. 
Do they so? Among the country hearers too, the honest Farmers, and Ploughmen 
y They are his expressions, p. 264. ? who are better pleased to hear of a mess or Boul of Pottage, than with a resemblance from the Sun, Moon and Stars? And yet they have seen them oftener a great deal than the Adamant stone. Surely they will not thus forsake their plain preaching; and, notwithstanding this man's presumption, I do not believe that one Reader of a thousand, thought of this Adamant. Let's see therefore if he can do any better in other things: He makes bold to presume that because the Spirit suggested words to the Apostles, therefore it doth so to us; and because to them in preaching therefore to us in Prayer. That is the force of his reasoning, p. 96. The Apostle, saith he, acknowledges himself beholding to the Holy Ghost (1 Cor. 2.13.) for words as well as affections, and that in his ordinary preaching. Now if the Spirit do suggest words in preaching, why not in Prayer?  N. C. 
Now that you speak of Prayer, it will keep you here a little longer. Pray tell me, why did you forget to mention that all this while? Have you no care of your credit and reputation which is lost by what you have said of it, unless you can redeem it? Nay, you have made your name to stink, as he tells you, in the Nostrils of many who before had better thoughts of you. 
z Pag. 95.   C. 
That's the smallest matter of a thousand, nor is it any prejudice to me, if they hardly expect, as it there follows, to meet me in Heaven. It is certain they shall not, unless they get thither themselves: and how to secure that, is a thing should more employ their thoughts, than to be dreaming what will become of other men. But as to the business you speak of, I did not forget it: but fully intended to have shown all the folly of his discourse about it, as I have done in the rest. Particularly in denying that to be a Rule to us which is infallibly dictated by the Holy Ghost. 
a Pag. 92.  And in making public Prayer (which was the thing we debated about) to be for private use. But now I am sensible it is too late: and we shall part better friends if I let it alone; for your prejudices I doubt are so great, that they will either make you angry at my plainness, or mis-understand that which you are not used to think of.  N. C. 
I hope otherways: and would gladly stay so long, if you can tell me your mind in short.  C. 
Part of it I can. Praying by the Spirit, signifies in the holy language, as I take it, the uttering such petitions as were immediately suggested, both matter and words, by the Holy Ghost, according as the necessities of the Church required. Such a gift I acknowledged there was in the Apostles days, but finding no promise that it should continue to ours, nor any such qualification required by Sr. Paul in a Christian Bishop, I made bold to say that no man now can pray by the Spirit; meaning as the Apostle, did. Nor dare this man say the contrary; but pours out a great many words (as they are wont to do, when fewer would better become them) concerning the Spirits bringing some things to our minds; he cannot tell how much, nor how little; 
b Pag. 93.  but for any thing he knows, it may be nothing at all. But if it do, it makes nothing against me, who told you in plain words, if he could have raed, or would not have cavilled, that I spoke of a Prayer immediately dictated by the Holy-Ghost, as some were in the Apostles days. 
c See more in the Friendly Debiae, p. 88  This he should have opposed, and shown us that there is such a Divine gift, which I deny. And affirm that the gift of Prayer which is now so much talked of, is partly Natural, and partly acquired, by study, observation, and orderly digesting of things in our minds. So that to the performance of what belongs to it in a complete manner, there is required, a competent knowledge of the Will of God revealed in the Holy Scriptures, where the matter of our Prayers is already declared to us by God's Spirit. Next of all, an orderly and distinct apprehension of those things which we know: then a firm memory to keep them in mind and in that order: A ready invention also that we may find out what is most proper on all occasions: together with an easy utterance and fluent expression. All these are to be improved by use and exercise; and when this gift is to be exercised in the presence of others, some degree of confidence and boldness is necessary, either from Nature, or acquired by frequent practice. And the greater the company is, and the more unacquainted we are with them, that we pray withal; the more of that quality last named is necessary for him that makes the Prayer. If any of these be wanting, either there is no such Gift, or it is very lame and defective, as Mr. Egerton observed it was not only in many of the common people (who thought they had it, when they had it not) but in some Reverend and worthy Ministers too, who knowing they had it not, always used a set Form of words both in the Church and in their private Families; And were men furnished with so much piety and learning that he could hardly prefer any other men before them. 
d Pract. of Christianity. p. 690.  They that have a solid and clear understanding, but no more, have no such gift as this. If there be superadded a good Memory, but no quick Invention and Words ready to follow it, they will find themselves at a loss or confused sometimes, even when no body hears them. And so may those who have all these, if they have not withal got a habit of speaking fitly by frequent exercise. Nay, they that have this habit, if they be too bashful may find their gift fail them before a great Congregation. On the other side, we find that they who have little understanding and are endued only with a Memory, are wont to pray over the same phrases, and put together the several heads of a Sermon, sometime in one order, sometime in another, and that is all. As for the men of brisker Imagination, better Memories and whose tongues are well hung, though of a shallow Judgement; they will make a fairer show and please themselves and others with variety of expressions and conceits, when the matter is very mean, and many times but their private opinions turned into Petitions. But as for them who beside their weak Memories and want of understanding, are of a slow invention or expression, and have only boldness and confidence equal to other men's knowledge and judgement, they will either hum and haw, or use endless tautologies, or speak nonsense, or piece it out with certain words which shall make a part in the beginning, end and middle of every Sentence. Whereby by it is apparent that very excellent men may wholly want this Gift, and others of little worth may have much of it, such as it is. Nay, that men of great holiness may be without it and bad men have it to admiration. For if they have furnished themselves with notions, and laid them togetherin a method, and can hold them fast so as they are disposed in their Memories, and readily run to them, suddenly produce them, fit expressions to them, and be daunted with nothing; they may ravish the people and themselves too, though they have little or no sense of God and goodness. He also that is but dull and slow, may be more ready and brisk when his fancy is heated, and find things coming faster before him and presenting themselves in that order wherein they lay in his mind; so that one part of his Prayer shall be more taking than the other. But all this is nothing of the Spirit of Prayer, which consists in such things as I told you at the first, and must not now repeat, nor is it praying by the Spirit neither as any man may see that hath not a mind to deceive himself or others. It is not denied but that when a good man seriously sets himself to meditate, the Holy Spirit of God may, and I believe doth oftentimes, set things in better order before his mind, than he could cast them into himself, and brings withal some things to his mind which he had forgot, and not only excites those passions and affections in him which are suitable to what he intends to ask of God or thank him for, but raises him extraordinarily above himself; and yet all this will not amount to a praying by the Spirit, but only by its assistance. Whereby a man who hath a gift of extemporate speech, sometimes excels all that ever he delivered before, and yet no man will say he spoke by the Spirit. I must add also that notwithstanding this assistance of the Divine Spirit, it is most certainly true that many have spoken to the astonishment of their hearers (as I can prove from certain stories which you perhaps are not acquainted with) who were not moved by the Holy Ghost at all; and other Devout men who have the Spirit of God as much as any, after all their premeditation, and digesting things in their mind, have not been able to make such prayers, nor found any such assistance (as this man would have us depend upon) to bring that matter on a sudden to their mind which they had forgot or not thought upon. I have endeavoured to explain my mind as briefly and perspicuously as I could about this business: in which notwithstanding, I know, a man of ill will may find some word or other to snarl and cavil at. But if this man think good to continue still in that humour. I shall throw one bone in his way for him to gnaw a little upon, which may perhaps something a bate the edge of his fury. It is the words of a great man dissatisfied with many things in our Church, who writing upon occasion concerning this matter, confesses a great part of the most distasteful things that I have said, and upon his own experience. Now what Worship, saith he, or prayers do you use? I am ashamed to name the boldness and folly of some who scarce able to utter three words orderly, will yet take upon them to babble out a tedious and stuttering prayer, where in every tenth word shall be the repeating of O heavenly Father, O merciful Father, O dear Father, O good God, O merciful God, etc. and also so foolishly packed together that their praying seems rather to be the prating of an infant, that would tell some great tale but cannot hit it. Thus far the Reformer, and yet he saith not all as my Author 
e Dr. bancroft's Sermon at the Cross. 1588. p. 23  adds, for sometimes they will so wander either by error or malice in framing their prayers answerable to their affections (which are oftimes maliciously bend against any thing or matter where with they are displeased) that no true Christian if he had time to consider of their meaning ought in charity, when they had done, to say, Amen. All this I will undertake to make good when it shall be required by such instances as are undeniable.  N. C. 
I have enough: But I wish you be not like the Fox, that persuaded others to cut off their tail, because he had none of his own.  C. 
I remember his words very well. p. 99 But he had better have been more modest; and not meddled with that story; because there is another hard by it in the same Author which will give him a flap in the mouth, worse than one with a Fox tail. It is this.  N. C. 
I thought we had been in more haste to be gone, than to stay to hear tales.  C. 
It is but a short one; and I will leave you to make the Moral. A Fox went to a player's house and turning over all his implements, when at the last he found a Vizor, which made a very fair and goodly appearance without but was hollow within, he cried out. What an Head is here! the mischief is it hath no Brains. 
f 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  But to be serious. Must all be supposed to want this gift, who tell you it is not so Divine as he imagines? For my part, I pretend to no thing more than what I have told you, but only this; that I think it is an Art that may be very easily taught those who are of an ordinary capacity, and which many people learn by imitation. It is plain the Boy was taught (after a fashion) in a small time, who was lately hanged for Murder; and it was no such wonder when we consider, that there is a certain form and road both of matter and words where many men are wont to run; only they change their place, and put them in other rank and order. And as this is very easy for some men to attain, so it is very delightful when they have it, which makes them so fond of it and so much to admire it. For their Spirits being heated and their fancy warmed, many things start up on a sudden which they thought not of before, and these surprise them with their Novelty, and withal are apt to persuade less cautious souls that now they are full of the Spirit of God.  N. C. 
I wonder to hear you talk of easiness. You mean sure of praying by a Book.  C. 
No indeed, I think it far more difficult to pray by a Book than otherways, if a man be able to do both. For beside the delight which it gives the natural man to have new conceits springing up continually in his mind, and the joy he is apt to conceive from an opinion that then he is extraordinarily inspired from above; it is no small matter in his esteem to have the whole public Service of God rely upon his invention, and hang upon his lips. This makes him to be a little Pope, of another kind: upon whose mouth alone the Divine worship in the Church as much depends among you, as the Divine faith doth on the Pope's mouth among the Papist. There is this difference only (besides the number which depend on each) that he takes a long time and much advice about his resolutions of faith, and your worship oftentimes is but a sudden effusion.  N. C. 
I think I had best arrest you here, for I doubt you begin to take a delight too in hearing yourself talk—  C. 
Doubt and hope and fear, all as you please yourself; it shall please me well enough. Who am resolved to be unconcerned, by the help of God, in what you say, unless you talk more soberly than this man hath done, and appear to be more in love with truth than any worldly interest. Which that we may all be let us both pray to that eternal spirit (as I find one in the late times concludes his Book. 
g Mr. J. Goodwin's Queries questioned by one quarry, etc. ) Who first moved upon the face of the waters and out of a Chaos of confusion brought forth this beautiful frame of things, and in the shape of a meek and peaceable dove descended and sat upon our Saviour the head of the second creation, and who is not the Author of confusion, but of Order; that he would cast out of this Nation every evil spirit, the spirit of blindness, giddiness and delusion, of pride and presumption, of contradiction and perverse disputing; and endue us with the spirit of judgement, sobriety and a sound mind, of humility, peace and meekness; that we may not in stead of discovering a greater light of truth return into former darkness of error, nor be spiritual Athenians and Novelists in Religion, nor deserve the censure which the Apostle passed on the Jews, that we are contrary to all men. And God, I hope, who is the Author of all good thoughts and designs will open some men's eyes or other, even by this that hath been said: Be it but of one or two, I shall not think my labour ill bestowed. They will see I hope in what danger they are of being misled, when one of their guides, and of no small account in his own opinion if not others, is so ignorant, quarrelsome and contentious. They will at least learn to be more wary whom they trust, and to read both sides before they judge; and not be moved by the bold declamations of men without reason: when they clearly see the example of a Minister before them, who speaks with the greatest confidence of things whereof he hath no knowledge.  N. C. 
Take heed you hope not too much, and fall not into presumptions as well as he.  C. 
No, I have been cautioned against that long ago. I know as Mercury says in Lucian 
* In his Charon.  that the multitude are bewitched with Ignorance and error, and their ears so stopped, that they can hardly be boared thorough with an augre. Ulysses could not make his followers ears more fast with wax from hearing the Sirens. You may break your heart with calling before they will hearken to you: for look what virtue the water of Lethe is said to have in the other world, the same operation hath Ignorance with them here. Yet there are some among them who will suffer no wax to be crammed into their ears; that are more attentive to truth, and will see plainly how the world goes; and judge accordingly. To them I appeal, hoping they will be convinced that I have spoken nothing but the truth; and that others also will be admonished by these things to abide in the truth and make much of it, and defend it, as becomes honest men: though they draw thereby upon themselves the hatred of others, whose Ignorance they reprove.  
As for that Gentleman whom I have dealt withal thus long, I leave the same Advice with him which Bishop White 
h Conclusion of his Answ. to the Dialogue between two Divines, A. B. 1637.  gave another person. That he would not be too well conceited of himself, nor affect popular applause, and so refer the handling of such matters as these, to men of better judgement, learning and modesty: and not give just occasion to have Solomon's Sentence applied to him, though thou shouldest bray a Fool in a Mortar among wheat with a Pestle, yet will not his foolishness departed from him. Pro. 27.22.  
And since he hath some experience of his own forward humour, and sees that he is apt to be imprudent and desperate (as he hath confessed p. 2) I would further advise him, that when he suspects a furious fit of scribbling to be coming again upon him, he would desire his Wife or Servants to lay, pen, ink and paper out of his way; lest he shame himself yet more in the face of the World.  
The END.  Job 6.24, 25. 
Teach me and I will hold my tongue: and cause me to understand wherein I have erred.  
How forcible are right words! But what doth your arguing reprove?