THE DOUBTFUL ALMANAC. OR, A very suspicious presage of great Calamities yet to ensue. By G. WITHER. WHere the Head is not obeyed, it is in vain to seek remedies: that State must needs fall in pieces, where out of point of Conscience the sovereign powers are maligned, for no other thing more than for pressing Conformity to wholesome commands: It is held a bad sign of reconciliation, when after the long feud between two enimous parties there ariseth a third, a perfect neuter equally distant from both, still favouring the weakest, till at length itself becomes the strongest; difference is sooner comprimed between two then three: the third standing as a partition wall of purpose that the other should not join. It is observed by Josephus, the great Cronographer of the Jews, that in Jerusalem (when the time of its long before denounced destruction by our Saviour drew near) there were three Leaders of that civil and lamentable dissension amongst them: the City being divided into the jurisdiction of the Temple, the high and the low Town; it is recorded by the same Josephus, that the Governor of the Temple, and Captain of the Chief Town had often times come to an agreement, had it not been for him of the Base Town; in like manner that the Chieftains of both the upper and lower Towns had easily come to reason, had not the Captain of the Temple ever opposed: for such is the nature of Civil distraction where three are interest in it, there will ever impede the corresponding of the other two; lest they souldred into one should charge him, vi unitâ: therefore keeping them enemies, he is sure of subsisting, if not of gaining; but once made friend he is certain to be reduced, if not ruined. To set the staff at our own door, and to come a little nearer home: At the first rising of the thrice unhappy dissension in England for a long season, there was no talk but of two parties standing upon the punctilios of their own Rights, that of Kings, challenging the full extent of his Prerogative, th'other of the Parliament, maintaining the Petition of Right, and Privilege of Parliament; And although these had some sharp encounters, yet were not good men out of all hope of reconciling them; as witness the great hopes (yea almost assurances) that to judicious men did appear of it twice at Oxford, and far more clearly for a good many days at Uxbridge; but when once the Independent party burst out, and sung no note but a Base; when they came not only to presence, but to precedency, yea presidency: Deus 〈…〉 incr●●uil malum! to what a height swelled the tide of our miseries: Quo cruore madebant omnita! what blood hath been spilt? how is peace not only deferred, but, is some are jealous, even delayed: so that we may but truly say with Philosophers, Omnis Ecclysis fit interpositione tertii: The matter is but marred (if not quite destroyed) by the intervening of a third. Whether this party hath not tried le sec et le vert (as the Frenchman saith) what lies in them both in Countries, Towns, and City. Coetera silentin praeterienda, I dare go no higher, to keep the wheel off this factious Civil broils still afoot, let those inquire it who by their daily undoing have most reason to resent it. The next malum omen which offers itself as Avis sinistra, an unlucky bird auguring the continuation, if not an increase of our miseries, is, that Sects and Schisms, Absalon like, sit at the entrance of the gate, courting, enticing, alluring, and fawning upon all passengers to the intent to win them to her, and to wear her livery. And because I have touched upon Absolou, let us see if his proceed in the at chievement of his wicked designed purpose, from the beginning to the end of it, doth not, per omnia quadrare, up and down the same; with the course of Heretics and Schismatics in these days; let us then scan his actions, and take his carriage apieces: Absalon not so foul within, but as fair without; proper of personage, beautiful of visage, acquaint of language, affable in carriage, pitiful and compassionate toward Suitors in his usage: he sits at the entrance of the King's gate, every man may have access to him. If some 〈…〉 daunted with the presence of his gallant feature, glittering apparel, or consideration of his high dignity, as being not only King David's Son, but Heir apparent to the Crown, why Absalon will call him to him, ask him his matter, and that he may have him the readier, he offers him his hand to kiss, the better to encourage him, he would hear his cause out, and whatsoever it were in its own nature the Plaintiff ever departed from Absalon possessed with the justness of it, and that it might have passed on his side, had not King David and his Officers of Justice been in fault through their negligence, if not worse: Thy cause is good, saith he, passing good questionless, but there is none deputed by the King to bear thee. By the King, oh what a blow doth Absalon give his Father here! he insinuates the King to be wholly careless of the welfare of his Subjects, although Prince was never more tender; he endeavours to make the world believe, that he cared not which end went forward with them: but were Absalon in solio had he to do as he should (leastwise as he would) matters should not be so carried: Quia sibi vult Absalon? what means Absalon by all this? Surely to withdraw the heart of the common people from his Father, and to fasten them upon himself; knowing full well, that if he could be master of their affections, he should soon have both their hands and purses; that being the loadstone that drew the rest: Absalon was reasonable well assured of that; what's behind? A fit place, and that somewhat remote from Court is to be thought on, where he may have some time and opportunity to draw to a head, for near David that could not so well be done, he having too many sage and trusty Worthies about him, that would soon crush his cockatrice in the shell; Absalon hath a clue for this, a way to bringed to pass, the better to effect it undescride, he varnisheth with Religion; in all humble wise he acquaints his Father with a Vow he had made of such a sacrifice, that he would offer unto God in case he should see his Father's face in peace (after his banishment for his unnatural murder of his brother Ammon) he earnestly solicits leave for the accomplishment of this sacrifice in Hebron, King David, (well meaning David) as gladly condescends to the motion as 'twas him craved (a Prince a great while since David's days did himself the greatest injury when he intended to his people the greatest boon) joyful that his Son of a murderer was become a sacrificer: dismisseth him to his sacrifice, not only with a consent, but a blessing: The Lord God accept thy sacrifice: Absalon hath his aim both to King and people, forthwith he mounts his Chariot, and with a train but of fifty Laque, and two hundred chosen men out of Jerusalem he speeds unto Hebron: there indeed he sacrificeth, yet sends to Giloh to Achitophel while he offered; nay the same Scripture observeth, 2 Sam. 15.12. That during his sacrificing the conspiracy grew strong. It is recorded of one of the most politic Kings that ever reigned in France, Lewis the 11. that he ever held his most serious and important consultations and ever expedited his weightiest affairs in a Monastery; when the world thought that the good King went so often thither for no other reason but his Soul's health, viz. to make his Confession, receive Absolution, hear Mass, receive the Sacrament, and the like, (which the simple vulgar thought the only business of repairing unto Religious Houses) King Lewis was contriving how to undermine the Constable of France, who put him in fear of joining either with the King of England Edward the fourth, or Charles Duke of Burgundy, both them his professed Enemies. Lewis in his Monastery spent his Canonical hours, in projecting some way to cast a bone between his two confederate Enemies, to set them at odds one against the other, the better to draw one of them, viz. Edward of England into League and Amity with him, which he effected both to the utter confusion of the Conte St. Paul the Constable; and to the small profit of the Duke of Burgundy: these, and the like, were the Beads that he said daily over during his abode in his Monastery. Oh nothing is so favourable for the covert of black designs as some exercise of Religion: be sure that be strongly pretended when ye mainly intent this; and all's well. To act devotion whilst one plots villainy, frees the design not only from suspicion, but procures a good opinion to it: men have been, are, and ever will be taken with fair outsides: they not being able (for the most part) to see clear through this glasser (Sed haec per transennam) by the by this. Let us return to our matter. And having seen Absalon act his first part, let us see how ste behaves himself in the second: why now knowing his own strength, having well considered the concourse of people to him, viewed their number, observed their quality, he takes off the mask, shows himself to the world in his own shape, causeth it to be proclaimed throughout the Land by sound of Trumpet, that Absalon was King in Hebron. David perceives too late, that Absalon's sacrifice was no peace-offering upon the receipt of the news, and true intelligence of the strength of the rebellion; he is fain to fly for't, leaving Jerusalem to a new Master, who is not long before he takes possession of it; all men flocking to him, and worshipping a rising Son, except Sadok, and Abiathar, God's chief Priest in ordinary, and some other, those stuck to David: although little reason in humane judgement for it, yet to David they adhere: these were orthodox Seers, call in to God's vineyard, God's way, these men would not countenance rebellion with their presence, they will hid for it rather; they knew that although it were an ill weed, and grew apace, yet it is not of long continuance, but is at length cut down, these two Priests of God with their Sons will not applaud it, though triumphing. But not to digress from our Story. Absalon makes a glorious entrance into Jerusalem, there takes possession of the Palace royal; nay to make known to the world in what vile esteem he held his Father, and fearing lest men should not take notice enough of it, he defiles his Father's Concubines in the open view of Jerusalem: and that all men might know that he had as good a will to despoil his Father of his life, as of his honour; he marcheth into the Field with a puissant Army, and give him but a pitched battle both for King, and David; where had not God miraculously stood to him, Absalon of a traitorous, perfidious Rebel, had become a rightful King. I have done with the example, and should come unto the Parallel: were it not that one thing I observe in the Catastrophe of this memorable Story, will not let me slip over it before I have touched it: Absalon is routed, yea I may justly speak it, hanged up for his unnatural and undutiful rebellion, by God himself; his chiefest ornament serving for his halter: yet David by his deserved destruction was not only insured of his life, but restored to his Crown and pristine dignity: one would think that David (Si quis mortalium alius, if any man living) had no cause to be sorry for his riddance out of the way, and was he not? so it should seem by that most heavy, dolorous, and pathetic ditty that he breathed forth at the tidings of his fall: O Absalon, my son, my son, would to God I had died for thee, O Absalon my son, my son. Absalon that formerly murdered one of his brothers (and that at a feast in his own house) Absalon that had endeavoured, all in him, to steal the heart of his people from him, by slandering his Government, and promising mountains if he could but once get to the helm; (a wile much practised amongst us within these few years.) Absalon that had in the clear day light openly defied his Father's 〈◊〉; Ab●●●●● that had no● only privately conspired to take off his Crown, but openly sought his life in a bloody battle. Absalon, who built his imaginary greatness upon no other foundation than the ruin of his Father: yet the death of this Absalon doth David take so ill, that his victory is no victory with him, because he is not alive: nay he prefers his own life to his own: Would God I had died for thee, O Absalon my son, my son. Beside David could not choose but apprehend digitum Dei, God's signal justice upon his Son for his notorious rebellion, and his marvellous mercy toward him in his preservation. Cui igitur in lacrymas effunditur David; What means David to take on in this manner? whereas to all men's thinking he had matter of exceeding great joy, triumph, and thanksgiving. Naturam expellas furca licet tamen usque recurret: It is an old saying, Murder will out; and it is a true saying, Nature will not be hid. David looked upon the person of Abshlon, Oculo affectus, and Oculo sensus, with the eye of the body, and eye of natural affection. Upon his converlation he only looked with the eye of understanding, and that of grace; we are more moved for the loss of that wherewith the bodily sense and natural affection are delighted, than we rejoice for the removal out of the way that, whereby God's Law is slighted, and humane society violated. Again, David although a man after Gods own heart, yet David had the seeds of corrupt nature in him still; it is Proprium quarto modo to nature, Quod Deus vult, nolles to antipodize God, to walk with our heels against his head. A third cause of David's so lamenting the death of his son Absalon, although so ill deserving at his hand, was questionless this: David did well conceive (as being a Prophet) the horribleness of Absalon's offence, it being unnatural rebellion, which God detesteth as witchcraft, which witchcraft is an absolute deserting of God, and cleaving to the devil his professed enemy: David therefore weighing the crime, as also the manner of his son's punishment for it, how that he was taken away in his sin, having no time given him to repent him of it, might justly fear the loss of soul as well as body, which to David could not but be the subject of incredible grief. Now let's compare the parallel of Sects and heresies in their accustomed proceed with this example of Absalon: do not the Sectaries first show the Sirens face? can any make more outward show of piety, purity, sanctity of life than they? Do any talk more of God, of truth, of standing for the Gospel of Christ? Do they not possess all men with the goodness of his matter, of his state in grace, of his undoubted share in heaven in case he side with them? Do they not humble themselves to the kissing not only the hands, but the feet of those they desire to win for their proselytes? while they are in their minority, pretend they to desire aught else save to enjoy the freedom of their consciences in the profession of the truth of Christ? Term they not themselves the poor despised flock? Stand they not only in the gates, but in the streets, corners, alleys of Towns and Cities, of purpose to woe and allure silly folk unto them? Make they not men believe, that if (with Absalon) they were made Judges in the Land, and had the absolute power of controulling, that all things should be in far better condition? Do they not persuade that where they rule, God rules, and no where else? Do they not seem to sorrow chief for our sorrow, in that none is appointed either to relieve or right us? Have they not often professed, that they could be content to be made anathema from Christ (presupposing more interest in him, than perhaps Christ himself well knows of) so that we were but grafted in to him after the manner that they are? Have they not subsceptitiously stole away the heart of the people from the supreme and undoubtedly lawful Magistrate; Vellicande, detractando, insumulando, by calumniating, slandering, falsely reproaching to his government? And now that they are grown to a considerable (may I not rather say) a formidable party; after they had obtained liberty to go a sacrificing (what if a man should say a whoring, were it any hurt think you?) after their own inventions: and that I may take up that saying with a great deal more just reason for Christ, then ever the Scribes and Pharisees did against him, Behold how the whole world rimneth after them: Now, I say, that they are grown to this height, how do they look upon us now? marry now as riseth their good, so riseth their blood; the vizard is off now: they must say now, Et flectere si nequeum superos Acherante movebunt; all shall topsi turvy before any shall mar them: they have no part in David, (they) nor portion in the son of Jesse: Every man of their new Israel to his tent: they know full well that if a lawful King and lawful Government be once established, a joyful calm must needs ensue, and put an end to these our so long continued tempests: this name of peace is a very m●rs in ●ll: to them: they fear right well, that the establishing of that will be their downfall; the Dagon of their not orious purposes must needs fall before God's Ark of peace, they will none of it therefore: it strikes at the root licentious Anarchies keep him out, cry they, while he is out; they that have now the managing of the Kingdom should do well never to trust (him) more, or to suffer him to have any thing more to do in it: and these men have stopped the tide (with their powerful although pernicious influence) of our (not long since) streaming joys, if not quite turned it: doth it not hence appear, that Schism is up and down Absolonnisme, both in Prologue and Play. Indeed I must needs confess, that in th'epilogue there may be some difference, for we read that Absalon for his detestable rebellion against his own Father, and his King, was hanged up by the hair of his head; but the hair of these men is somewhat of the shortest for that purpose; so that of necessity use must be made of another thing. But seeing that these wise men still bear such a stroke, and can hinder the current of our long hoped for quiet, without being checked or chid for it, nay which with confidence in the fact, it presages to me that God hath still a controversy with us; that God who is the God of peace, and styles none of his servants (whatsoever graces they have been otherwise endowed with) the children of God, save only the peacemakers; I fear, I say, that this God of peace doth not yet hold us worthy of so great, and so an inestimable benefit as is that of peace: but that by reason of our grievous sins (a catalogue whereof follows) His anger is not turned away from us, but that his arm it stretched out still. Isa. 9 FINIS.