A Scourge for a Fool: OR AN ANSWER TO A Late Scandalous Piece of Nonsense, ENTITLED, A Hue and Cry after the Bishop of ELY.  
IT was my Chance the other day, to meet with an Absurd Pamphlet, as void of Wit as of Honesty, Entitled, A Hue and Cry after the B. of E— and reading the Title, my Curiosity led me to view the Paper itself; and having read it over, I found it so full of Hyperbolous Slanders, Scurrilous Rail, Odious Epithets, Base Aspersions, and in such a true Billingsgate Dialect, and Alsatian Style, that I soon discovered the Author to be a true Son of Xanthippe, an accomplished Interloping Scribbler, who fancies himself a more than ordinary Wit; but I fancy the contrary; and am sure, whatever his Wit may be, he has no more Honesty than he should have.  
He first makes Proclamation, and tells you in no less than Eight the most Odious Words that Malice could invent, that the B. of E. has lately withdrawn himself, and is gone God knows whether: But if it be so, yet (under favour Mr. Hue and Cry) it does not behoove you to reflect upon him in such an Odious manner; do you think (Reason guiding you) that a Man of his Birth, Education, Learning and Parts, and which ought to be Esteemed by every considerate Man, a Man of that Sacred Order, aught to be Scandalised by every Buffooning Scribbler, that understands no more in Divinity than a Horse does in Grammar; and who is no deeper Learned than Esop's Fables; nor in Poetry than just to make a Ballad: Such ill-minded Men as these swarm in the City, and their Actions are intolerable.  
Then he tells you, if any Body (in an Antic Deriding Method names several) will bring the B. Alive to Justice, they shall have 5000 French Crowns Reward. Indeed I admire he had the Modesty to stop here, and not cry Dead or Alive, that somebody might have Murdered him and brought his Head; but being in haste when he wrote the Hue and Cry, (as you know Men generally are) forgot to put that word Dead into it. But first I would fain know by what Authority he Published this Scandalous Pamphlet: And secondly, who will pay this 5000 Crowns? O Scandalum Magnatum! What Distractions are likely to be in a Government, when such base Men thus odiously abuse the Members! What Divisions may such Pamphlets cause, and what would not some Men do for Lucre sake!  
In the next place, Lest you should mistake the Person, he undertakes to describe him to you in his proper Colours, which this Scandalous Scribbler tells you, are as Changeable as his Religion and Allegiance: And calls this Reverend Prelate Grand Incendiary of Credulous Bigotism: And now, says the Crier, you will see the Pretended Father of the Holy Word, transformed into a Bully of the Sword.  
And now let any Man, void of Partiality, judge whether these things be sufferable in a Government: If he has offended, let him answer it himself to the Government, who have Power to Examine and Punish Offenders according to their Demerits; but let not such little Writers meddle with things of this nature, (which are as far out of their Sphere as common Sense is) and not abuse a Prelate with such unbeseeming Epithets, odious Names, and Rail at so desperate a Rate, that it makes a Modest Man, or a Man that has common Civility, blush to read it. I admire where this little Writer learned this Character of the B. I am certain it is only a Devilish Invention of a Malicious Mind, induced to do it, partly out of Envy, and partly for Gain; for I Challenge this little Crier, and all the Men in England, to prove that the B. ever changed his Religion, (as this Imposture affirms) for he was Born from his Cradle, and is still, a Protestant of the Church of England; and I dare him, and all his Brother Criers about Town, to prove the contrary.  
In the next place our Crier falls to Railing again, and calls the B. Imposture, Shame to his Order, etc. and tells you, that you will find the B. in the Habit of a Soldier, Armed Cap-a-pe, with Embroidered Coat, Fringed Scarf, and Scarlet Feather, in this Equipage he tells you he was met upon the Road, going to appear Propria Person in France. If it be so, I desire Mr. Hue and Cry to let me know who met him in this Garb, at what Place and Time, and why they did not Seize him, as a Revolter from the Government; but (because you should mind the Man is a Scholar) he tells you he is gone in Propria Persona, to St. Lewis and St. James. Indeed Mr. Hue you might have altered your Cry, and told us the Bishop was met upon the Roadibus, upon a Horsibus, going for Francibus, and so have told all your Tale in Latin.  
Now comes a Description of his Physiognomy, here he Spits his Venom again, giving the most Odious Description of him that his Malice could invent, and in a Parenthesis tells you, that the B. had on a Flaxen Periwig: Monstrous Hyperboler! see thy own words and Blush. And then he tells you the greatest Improbability in the World, viz. That he loves to shelter himself under the Wings of Tyranny and Popery. It is apparent that he is no Admirer of Popery, as was evident when the late K. James sent him to the Tower; and I durst engage my Life, that he would sooner lose his than turn Papist; but Malice never speaks well.  
Then this Crier sets up his Notes and says, That in Parliament time he was commonly Crowding in the Court of Requests, or Lobby of the House of Lords, Fawning on some Debauchee, or Atheistical Bravo. It is well known that the B. was a Pious Man, and took as much Pains in Preaching, Expounding, etc. and used it as frequently, and with as much Zeal and Care, and endeavoured to promote Religion as much as any Man in England; and yet our Reprobate Crier, would insinuate that he was an Atheist.  
And next he says, He was lately Chairman to a Club of Jacobites. O Villainous Imposture! be ashamed of thy Actions, and Repent, lest a worse Evil come upon thee for thy Impiety: And all that I can imagine you are, is an Interloping Buffoon, an Atheistical, Papistical, Anabaptistical, Non-Scholastical, Mystical Ignoramus, that will Reform, Conform, Inform, or be of any Form for your Interest; either learn more Wit and Honesty, or else leave off Scribbling, and if you do not, I shall certainly Expose your Folly.   

LONDON, Printed by G. Croom at the Blue Ball in Thames-street, for W. Rayner, 1691.