To the Reverend and Merry Answerer of VOX CLERI. To be left at Mr. Brabazon Aylmer's at the Three Pigeons in Cornhill. With a Bundle. SIR, WITH all due Respect to your City-Dignity, I make bold to acquaint you, that last Market-day I bought your Book, and have since read it without prejudice; and am glad to find that a Man of your side, though he makes no Abatements in his Wit, uses so great Moderation and Temper in his Arguments. I am willing to think I have done what you never did; for I have really considered your Book, which had you done who live within the Air of the Court, and must needs be infected with good breeding, you had doubtless retrenched divers Passages, that are full enough of Wit, (you'll say) but not quite so full of good Manners. In short, Sir, had you considered, you had never printed; and however at other times the Burden of Writing may p. 35. have lain upon your Shoulders, you would for once have considered upon whose Shoulders the Burden of Reading was to lie. For my own part I design to do this, and shall therefore draw up what I have to say, in as little compass as I can; for, as Horace says upon the like Occasion, should I too long interrupt your Care of your thirty thousand, how could I answer it to the Parish? To begin therefore, I agree with you, that Indifferent Things are in their own nature alterable, and even a Country Divine may gather from the Rubric, that Ceremonies are such Indifferent Things. 'Tis an acknowledged Truth, and will be so, though you proved it in six pages more: Wherefore if you please well take it for granted, and go on to the main Point, which is, making Alterations at this time: Of this you give us your Sense in divers Places; I wish you would please to reconcile 'em. For our Western Understandings cannot so readily comprehend, how the Reason of a p. 20. thing shows the Necessity, though there be no Necessity p. 2. in the Things themselves, so that good and wise Men p. 6. may differ upon the Point, but no man can oppose it, that has cool and sober thoughts. Make but these p. 2. Passages consist, and you shall have my Vote to be Chairman in the next Committee of Union. But since you allow so graciously that Good and Wise Men may differ, pray why so hard upon the Good Men, that are not of the Wise men's Opinion? Must we needs be kicked out of Church, if we like the Established Liturgy? and away to Bealam for cool and sober thoughts? Is there no use of p. 2. our Pews but to sit in at the Sacrament? sure the honour of God would dispense with Kneeling; nor is the Peace and Interest of the Kingdom so concerned p. 1. in these Alterations, but a Man may still use the Cross in Baptism, without being sworn to the Peace; and carry a Knife about him, though he should bespeak two Godfathers. It were to be wished too, that the Wise Men would a little adjust their Notions for the benefit of us Countrymen, who are now perplexed with their different Sentiments, as bad as Judge A— was, when the Lawyer spoke for the Defendant. One with great Depth and Gravity informs 1st. Letter. us, that the Nature of the Things themselves requires an Alteration. Another with as much 2d. Letter. form assures us that the times exact it, and in case we demur upon the Point, the Nation will abhor us, and the Parliament reduce us to the State of Scotland. You must imagine this puts us in a terrible Fright, for the Man's as confident as if he were a Member, and a Scot too. But to comfort our Hearts down comes Tertius è Caelo, (like Tumbler into the Isle of Pines) not altogether so wise, but much the merriest of the three; and he cries, No such matter, good People, the Nature p. 11 of the things require no Alteration; all your fear p. 2. is ridiculous; and therefore, Old Gentleman, lay down your Spit and your Firefork, and let you and I exchange a scrap of Latin, and break a Jest or two upon this great Occasion. You Wise Men of the West, think it reasonable the p. 7. End should be considered before the Means are resolved upon; which is very Sage and Grave, and becoming your Country Wisdom, which does nothing in vain; never brews Ale without some body to drink it, and never sets a Hen but to breed Chickens, according to that Logical Axiom which you han't quite forgot, Finis primum in intellectu. True Sir, and if Writers, as well as Brewers, would but consider that Axiom, Oh Heavens! what Ale and Pamphlets should we have! But you forget, Sir, one main point of Country Wisdom, which is this, That we never make Pies without Paper to put under 'em; and therefore your Book coming so very opportunely, my Maid went cheerfully to Baking. As for Brewing, you say well, that we always do it in hopes some honest Man may be the better for't; for do you think, I'd have brewed last March, had I thought the Dissenters were to drink it this February? The drink would never have worked, Man. But how come you to be so knowing in our Country Business? Tu regere imperio, as the Poet has it; Do you mind Beef, and Whitechappel, and set up your Pillars at those Bars: You may keep a few Hens (instead of Fathers) in your Cockloft, to learn how to reckon your Chickens; but as ever you hope to have a Dignity, not a word of Ale or Union. You see, Sir, how forward we Country People are to get into the City fashion. You give us the Laws of Writing, and your Example must be our Apology, if we endeavour to trace your steps. We do it, as becomes us, with a Long sequere— preserving the due distance between a poor Country Vicar, and one that drinks Sacks in p. 35. the Vestry. But we had rather you'd forbear setting us these Copies, because they take us too much off from our Country Business: we should brew better Ale, if you minded your Custard; and our Hens would lay, though you did not cackle: Therefore pray Sir, for the future keep your witty Notions of Cookery to yourself, and leave us p. 19 35. to our old Service, and brown Apple-Pie, which we can feed upon very contentedly, at least till the Convocation finds us better Victuals. It is a great Condescension in you after all your sharpness, to submit to that Country Method you have railed, though at last you graciously do it, and consider both the End and Means. Your End, it seems, is bringing in Dissenters, and your Means, Abatements and Alterations, and for these you give us two notable Reasons; 1. That the Church may be clean. 2. That Religion may be trim. That the Church may be clean, 'tis plain; for you mean not to cleanse away The Pillars; but only to take down the old Escocheon, and sweep away a few old Cobwebs, whiten p. 10. the Walls, and set up a new Gallery. Now I want some body to scour these dirty Similitudes, for otherwise 'tis very hard to decipher 'em. I hope you don't mean the King's Arms by your Escocheon, but some old Barons that has Nolumus mutare leges Angliae for the Motto. And suppose we take down this Escocheon, will you secure us against the Court of Honour? or will any man else secure us that you won't take down the Commandments too? These things ought to be considered the rather, because, your Cobwebs seem to glance at the Lawn Sleeves, and I would not have them turned into Scotch-Cloath; but for a new Gallery, I am ready to pay my Proportion as soon as 'tis agreed how to place it to account. We are under the same Apprehensions from p. 12. your second Argument, notwithstanding your courteous Declaration, that you are not so as to think Religion is in a Consumption, nor intent to give her Ass' Milk, (no pray done't) nor would you have her such a Madwoman as to think you will cut off her Head, when you only design to shave her Beard; and therefore let her submit her Face to a speedy Reformation. I perceive you observe Decorum, Sir, and conclude this may pass with Christians, knowing that an Old Testament Jew would sooner lose his Head than mar the corner of his Beard. But that Leu. ix 27. grave Ceremony being long since antiquated, you presume Religion may now send for a Barber; with all my heart, Sir, provided it be not Hanun, 2 Sam. x. 4. who, when he has half shaved her will cut off her Garments too, and show her Buttocks, and then she may be sent to Jericho. But pray, good merry Gentleman, after all this Gaiety, return to your cool and sober Thoughts, and consider how decently you bestow that Wit of yours upon matters of Religion: methinks a Minister should have a more awful Idea of the Church, some greater Respect for the Good and Wise Men that differ from him, some higher regard to his own Coat and Function, than to make the Business of a Convocation the Subject of his Raillery. Religion would indeed make but a very odd Figure, if all Men painted p. 10. it at this rate; the Nation might justly abhor both it and them, and the Laymen be as forward as ever a Churchman of you all, not only to alter, but abolish it. Pray, Sir, consider this a little, and govern your Spleen; there are other Subjects enough to pass away your Times of Merriment; p. 20. and your Cap would become you much better, if it were not for your Habit. And now, Sir, if you will pardon this Digression, we'll have done with your Means, and imagine a short Dialogue between us concerning your End; to see what Benefits we may hope for when the Church is swept, and so forth. Sir, when the Church is swept, and so forth, the Dissenters (who you know are a nice People, and affect an extraordinary Cleanliness in Religion) will come in like the seven Spirits in the Gospel. They would have come in before but they wanted a Gallery, and some odd insignificant Figures p. 10. stared 'em full in the face, and frighted them; but now that the Church Walls are whited, welcome Gentlemen. I profess, Sir, I could never have imagined there would have come so many though; why here's such a Multitude, one Church will never hold 'em: we must even subdivide, especially some of the greater Parishes. Hold you there, Sir, it is not come to that yet. What, We divide that are for Union? You shall see I'll make room enough in my Church presently: Avaunt Anabaptists; Take away the Erastians', p. 12. I'll have none of those Quakers. Look, Sir, here's p. 13. a Flock of wild Dissenters that can never be folded. p. 14. Nay then we may even pull down the Gallery. Verily and so we might, if it were not for some glean of the Toleration, who are for a National Church. They are but a few, Sir, and you see they are very grave: Pray let the Gallery stand, 'tis only for those few; as for the stiff and peevish Dissenters, Independents, and the rest of those inflexible, unchristian fanatics; if they set but one Foot in my Churchyard, I'll ring the Bells backwards. Pray, Sir, How many do you think your Grave ones are? About as many as the Alterations; for we polled p. 9 'em first, and quarrelled with the Service accordingly. Did these Gentlemen ever apply to the Convocation? No. And if they should, I hope they know 'em p. 9 p. 2. p. 6. better than to trust 'em. Then, methinks, it is a hopeless Project to Unite with them we cannot trust. Oh Lord! Why that's the very Reason of our p. 2. Project. They have told us downright, that they won't be satisfied with any Alterations we can make; and do you think we would alter if we durst trust 'em? Explain yourself, I beseech you. Why we know 'em for a parcel of Lying Knaves, that can never keep their Word; and therefore having caught 'em at declaring they won't come in, we are as sure of 'em as if we had 'em in the Gallery. And when you have these Gentlemen, what do you intent to do with 'em? Do with 'em? there's a Question! Present 'em to deprived men's Live; make 'em Convocation-Men to affront the Bishops, strengthen, enlarge, and p. 15. beautify the best Church in the World with 'em. These p. 30. Fellows are fit for any thing. Much-good-de-ye, Sir, with your new Acquaintance. And so much for imaginary Dialogue. To return to my Letter; You seem to have forgot one main thing when you altered your Church, and that was, to make up your Chancel Door; for it may so happen, that more Conformists may go out at that, than grave Dissenters will come in at the other: several honest Gentlemen have told us so, and we know 'em so well that we dare trust 'em; especially since your Book is on their side: for when the Alterations take place, than they are the Dissenters, and all your Arguments are on their side, and your Reasons for altering will plead as strongly for restoring what has been altered. So that here's the Old Judge again; and I see no way to get out of this Perplexity, but only the quiet Enjoyment of the Liturgy we have, and renouncing all Proposals of changing for the sake of Dissenters. There are other Arguments that carry a fairer Appearance; as first, the Bishops Promise. This the Parliament has effectually fulfilled: a Toleration was the utmost the Dissenters aimed at: if you done't like that Favour, pray give it us again. But you add, There was a solemn Protestation, viz. p. 28. a tacit Agreement among all thinking and sober Men to do so and so. Sure this was some Christmas Evening, when the Gentlemen were got to still Music, and therefore they protested silently, because any Man that spoke was to be smutted. Pray, Sir, did this Silence invade your Ears at a distance? or were you of the Company? Durst they play with so merry a Gentleman, when there was such a Penalty upon Laughing? The Proposal you tell us of, would have sent the Cork quite round the Company: for what can be more extravagant, than for sober and thinking Men to resolve and protest so solemnly, That if ever their Church 'scap'd the Papists, they would be sure to give it up to the fanatics. I suppose, Your Head has as much room in it as the Western Gentleman's, p. 4. and some to spare; and undoubtedly there was the Meeting when this tacit Agreement was resolved upon. Can not you leave it a tacit one, as they made it? They'll remove their Club to another House if they know you blab thus; or it may be they'll disperse, and then how shall we rally 'em to make good their Bargain and Sale? You must lie down again and think, and put up a Bill upon your Forehead to give notice that your Head's ready, and there is not so fit a Place in England for 'em to meet in: but if they should not come, because the Room's unfurnished, don't you grow angry with the whole Church, and fret and fume, and cry, Tricks, Cheats, no Body p. 29. will trust 'em more. It would better become your Character to fawn upon 'em, if you thought them so like your Dissenters. Another Argument is, The King will resent p. 24. our Refusal. I believe this Secret was revealed to you in a second Fit of Thinking; for I don't remember your Name in the List of the Privy Council, and so there's hopes you may speak without Commission. To be plain with you, you altering comprehending Sons of Levi take too much upon you, making bold with the King's Name upon every Occasion, and pretending such an intimate Acquaintance with things so far out of your reach. You make the King but a scurvy Compliment, when you trump up that Argument for him which sounded so harsh in the late Reign. The rest of the Clergy have more just and honourable Thoughts of him: they rely upon his Word, and after so many repeated Assurances of his Gracious Inclinations towards them, cannot question but the Church shall continue safe and quiet under his Protection, and happy in his Favour. You may chance to be as much deceived in p. 24. your Opinion of the Parliament, since the better part of the Members are as averse to Alterations as we are. Except in your Book, I never heard that they set the Convocation about that Work; but p. 24. in Sixty One they made an Act to establish the Liturgy as it is, and that we desire to stick to, at least till they altar their Mind. Give us leave, Sir, to stay their time; and when they signify their Pleasure, we shall know our Duty without contesting who are fittest Judges of Expedience. You need not doubt it, Sir, you have secured the Point, by assuring us that otherwise the Parliament will turn the Convocation into Surgeons-Hall; and than what a Figure our Church will make? For if we won't leave out the Apocrypha, there is no remedy but the House must resolve into a College of Physicians, and send for Surgeons to cut up Tobit's Dog immediately. Shan't they be Barber-Surgeons, Sir? for than they may shave Religion too? Well 'tis a heavy Doom this: Pray Mr. T—m stay a little; the Gentleman may come to some Temper with the Dog; for he looks as if he might be persuaded to come over a Stick for the King. I profess, Sir, I am mightily taken with this turning the Clergy into Surgeons, 'tis so proper a Metamorphosis for the Ministers of a Persecuting p. 32. Church. Now let 'em cut, and lance, and cup, and scarify tender Consciences without mercy, as long as 'tis in their Vocation, but it did not so well become 'em when they had their Cassocks on. And pray, Sir, tell me, were they all transformed into Surgeons? No, no, a double majority— p. 5. why those were the Longitudinarians; Ay, so they were, and therefore were turned into little short Puppets of about an Inch; and a huge discontented p. 23. Layman got a Licence from the Master of the Revels to show 'em in Smithfield, and he showed 'em and danced 'em to the Tune of Christ-Church Bells, and you would not imagine what a p. 2. deal of Custom he had, yet he did it so clumsily, that, I saw him draw the Wires. p. 23. 'Tis well you were there, Sir, that the Show might be sure of a Merry Andrew: For (to change the Scene) that's a Character becomes you so very well, that you ought to strike to it. Though the discontented Layman should recover his Place at Court, yet don't you petition for a Place under him, for of all things, Courtship is the most contrary to your Genius. Trade on in meek satire, which does not bespatter half so much as your general fulsome Commendations. It is more credit to the Prolocutor to be quite shut out of your good Graces, than either of those great and excellent Persons whom you fawn upon, get by being so clumsily caressed. p. 9 34. If Mr. L—'s Beard offend you, lie still, and he shall shave twice a Week: We'll send him the Barber, as soon as he has done with Religion: And when his hand's in shall he shave Athanasius too? I would fain have him stand well in your Opinion. Quicunque vult! That shows he was not for imposing. An honest civil well-meaning Gentleman, he might want a few cool and sober Thoughts, when he writ his Creed; but sure he was not so damnable drunk, as T. F— says. Sir, I thank you for your Coat and Badge; in return I have sent you a short Presbyterian Cloak, particolored, with Assent and Consent in the Red, and Abatements and Alterations in the Yellow. You have a Cap already; to make you complete, my Hen has just laid, and I have sent you an Egg; and so I thank you for your Letter, which the oftener I read, the fuller it convinces me of what you insinuate (p. 14.) that 'tis always the soft side of a Man's Head which inclines him to unite with the Dissenters. I am, Sir, etc. Remember me kindly to your Dull Second, and tell him he has the safest way of writing of any man I have met with. FINIS.