WJT'S PROGRESS: 

Wherein are lanced the various crimes,  
Are incident to these sad times.   

Chapmen quickly come and buy me,  
If ye are wise, you'll not deny me.   

Wit is cheapened, wit is sought,  
But wits near good till it be bought.    
The Author Democritus Junior.  
Printed in the year, 1647.   

Wit's Progress.  
I Have not (as the Philosopher of old did) wandered up and down Athens, with a candle and lantern at noon day, to find out an honest man, (as if his intention had been to add light & splendour to the glorious eye of heaven, that was a little to cynical; my purpose hath been more charitable, yet trust me in these times, I think it a kind of an herculean labour; every man I meet with cries out of the badness of the times, when most men have a hand in making them as they are.  
Let every man begin his own work, and correct his own errors, and we shall quickly find an alteration in the amendment of the times.  
First to begin with the great Physicians of the body politque (who have almost served a prenticeship in finding out a cure) they persuading themselves that she was sick of a Plethora, struck a vein, but let her bleed to much, but I am confident by succeeding passages, they willingly mistook the right vein, and so drew some of her vitals, by which means she hath thus long laboured with a consumption. And the reason may be thus, they dealt with her (as the Empirics of this age deal with their patients, whom they find to be rich and able they procrastinate their cure from day to day, until they have drawn their patient's purse as empty of crowns, as their bodies of humours, of both so much as the party hardly ever recovers.  
I do not say it is thus, my fears, and the Kingdoms (especially of the honester part) have to much reason to suspect it.  
Thus having glanced superficially upon the body of the Commonwealth, and the dangerous estate she now continues in, let me reflect upon the religious part (the soul which is religion) this hath been purged off her legs too; this, this glorious work, the structure of many ages, falling into the hand of doting ignorance, is utterly thrown to the ground, and there lies panting for breath. They have dealt with her (like ignorant artises) into whose hands, some curious clock, or watch, hath accidentally fallen, who to observe the curiosity of the workmanship have taken it to pieces, but are in a labyrinth of error: not knowing which way to set it together again.  
There is another sort who serve as an Appendix to this Reformation, whom we may style the cornecutters of Religion, or the Leeches of the Commonwealth (I mean Country Committees) these have a hand died deep in the purple gore of the Kingdom, under pretence of doing good too.  
I shall give you a story in Worcester, there was not long since a large heap of stones, which suffered under the hated appellation of the cross (though otherwise an indigested heap of stones, which age had made decrepit, and worn out of form; this poor cross, for so they styled it, was arraigned and condemned to perpetual 
* They have built a gate to the prison with the st●n● to keep in honester men then they keep out.  imprisonment, before ever it was permitted to speak a word for itself, and could their faith have flown steeple height, the poor cross which supports the Weathercock had suffered Martyrdom with her sister; but thanks to providence for placing it out of their reach: but you may see they had a notable stomach to it by their 
* They dealt with the little Crosses upon the battlements as Surgeons do with burnt— pared off their heads and left the stumps standing only.  nibbling at the battlements. This poor structure which hath stood long in spite of rough Boreas' blasts, was overthrown by the poisonous breath of a bumkin Committee.  
There is an old saying that three Tailors go to the making of a man, I am confident that three times three, (if they are no better than some I have known) and a whole country Committee will scarce make an honest man. Some there are amongst them who have a grain of honesty more than others, who serve as Gingerbread to stuff up the Fair, whom want of means, or wit, or both, hath drawn into the crowd; but let them pass, whilst I steer to the City, (the grand magazine of all folly) there is not such a Fair in Europe for all pedlars of Religion to sell off their fantastic toys in. Let them set up what stand they will, no body contradicts them, and the good easy soft hearted Women fall back to them let their Comoditieses be what they will; there is such a rutting at these private meeetings and conventicles, that (I am confident) he that is not a Cuckold or a bastard amongst them is a strangely happy man. Certainly the people of this Island are grown very deaf in these latter years, they delight so in noise; for unless their pulpit thumping Ministers can out of their sweeting zeal, waste 2 hours' sand in railing against royal Government, in a tone would deaf Mariners in a storm, he is not a man thought fit to go in and out before the Sisters.  
Laerna hath not so many Monsters nor Hydra heads, as there are of these theating impostors in every corner and nook of the the City. These are stipendiaries to the good women, if they are found to be able Men. Strange impudence! when Religion is made but a cloak, to hid bawdry! I could wish some other climate, distant far enough had these hellish monsters, but that I would not name Derrick, because he is a good Commonwealths-man. And since I know it to be the custom of England to go singing from the Gallows to the grave, in hopes they will mend before they end, I have penned their Recantation.  

From the tyranny of the Turk and the Antichristian Pope,  
From all traitors in England that deserve a rope,  
Give them but halter and they'll hang themselves we hope.  
Good Dericke deliver us.   

From the giddy Crow whose chief intent,  
Is to subvert the Church and Royal Government,  
From a bumkin Committee, and an everlasting Parliament.  
Good, etc.   

From a Sisters nunquam satis and all private Conventicles.  
Where a man shall labour till the sweat down trickles,  
A game they love better than they love their victuals,  
Good &c,   
FJNJS