University of Virginia Library

INTRODUCTIO Authoris Liber ad Lectorem.

By Liberty Great Truth will sure Prevail,
Not by an English or a Roman Flail,
Let her but speak she'll make us all strike Sail,
The States of Holland, how much have they got
By this most Wise, and this true Christian Plot?
In giving Liberty as well to those
Who are Christ's Friends, as them who are his Foes.
Permitting Tares and Wheat (by them) to stand
Until the Harvest, (so did Christ command)
When other States and Kingdoms round about,
In this great Point have made so great a Rout,
(Like rageing Mad-men who have lost their Reason,
And cannot speak one wise word in due Season.
We wish some Prelates now would Understand
That so Christ's Truth may get the upper Hand)
All Impositions in God's Church are Vain,
Only State Tricks, A Roman Powder Trane,
To Blow up Truth, although Repent they may
When 'tis too Late, at the Great Judgment Day.
This won't then serve, 'twas not the Church but State
Which gave Dissenters such a broken Pate;
When they themselves (God knows) with one Consent,
Made Penal Laws in Acts of Parliament.
For to oppress them, though themselver have got
(To their great shame) an Everlasting Blot;
For by such Laws, both Church and State they have
Before their time, sent Thousands to their Grave.
Nay, some affirm, this Cruelty alone
Brought in those Bloudy Wars in Forty One:
Heav'n only knows, what now will be their Fate,
Who still shall trust in such a Church or State.
Our Worthy Prelates none now dares to touch,
Because Great Pillars of the Christian Church.
God still preserve them in their present Station,
Who under him are Saviours of our Nation,
Join'd with an Orange-tree have brought to pass,
To make Wise men no more to play the Ass:
The Tory Men of War are those we blame,
Which are a Blot unto the Christian Name:
These are the Men we challenge with our Pen,
All others are true Christian English Men,
They will not hurt us, these Imposers may,
And while the Sun doth shine, let us make Hay.
These are the Men we now would have to Run,
Like Mists and Fogs before the Rising Sun.
Read now our Postscript, there you may find Hope,
To see, e'er long, the Downfall of the Pope;
Truth hath arraign'd him, at the Court of Rome,
And in short time you may expect his Doom;
Who if found Guilty by his Noble Peers,
They'll Lop him shorter by his Head and Ears.

THE Epistle Dedicatory, To all Loyal Protestants, and True English Men, (whether Conformists or Nonconformists) Readers.

My Worthy Friends and Country-men,

To the Imposing Members of the Church of England, herein concerned.

POSTSCRIPT.

When sturdy Storms are gone and past,
Shall pleasant Calms appear,
If Church-men will confess at last,
Then Rome we need not fear.

The Imposing Members of the Church of England, part of their Last Lent Confession, as then recommended to be made by them, viz.

To all Roman Catholick Priests and Jesuits, of Persecuting Principles and Profession.

A Postcript to the aforesaid Imposers.

So long as hot Spurs here shall rule the Roast,
VVe must expect a sharp and biting Frost;
Until such time as Truth shall overcome,
Though not by Trumpets or that Beat of Drum,
VVhich calls the Sons of Mars unto their Arms,
Hers only are most Sweet Malodious Charms,
VVhich so Inflames all such as do desire,
But to approach unto her Sacred Fire;
VVhich doth so purge them from their Dross and Tin,
All's fair without, and all true hearts within;
Makes them stout Champions in God's righteous Cause,
To fight against all Antichristian Laws:
Their Weapons are no Musquets, Pike or Sword,
But Paper Pellets of God's Written Word,
And as Rams Horns long since did overcome,
So shall these Bullets shake the Walls of Rome.
That Hydra whence some Churches long have made,
(As she them taught) a very gainful Trade;
VVhich was, in short, by that accursed Fate,
Truth to defend by knock-down Laws of State;
As if not able to defend her Right,
Unless the Powers on Earth should for her Fight;
They left the Rule, and brought such Notions in,
As made them Partners in their Mothers Sin;
But all must Fall (Great Truth will them Discover)
As well the Daughters as the antient Mother.
And when that Lady shall be out of Date,
Some Men then sure will be asham'd to Prate
(As they have done) at that Tantivy Rate,
For Laws establish'd both in Church and State.
The last is ours, the first it is God's Throne,
And such as grate so much upon that Bone,
Are Rebels more than those of Forty One.
This we aver, and prove it will beside,
When Church and State shall be on plain Truths side:
Your Church of England owns unto this hour,
(What some deny) all Magistrates a Power
In Matters of Religion; which some say
You learn'd from Rome, and so went all Astray
As you have done in many things beside;
Ruin'd Old England by your shameful Pride.
The Roman Church ('tis true) have you out-done;
But you have worshipp'd to that rising Sun;
As Thousands they have felt unto their Cost
By Fines and Prisons (and their Lives have Lost)
All which did come to pass to that Degree,
For want of giving Christian Liberty.
As you have twisted Church and State together,
So your two Churches we can hardly sever;
You are so like the one unto the other,
We know the Daughter by the antient Mother.
To us no Matter which Church now prevails,
For you have Stings (we find) in both your Tails.
If we must suffer for true Conscience sake,
We value not what Church our Lives do take;
All one to us, provided we must go,
Whether by Romans or England's Old Steel Bow.
Only the Romans promise now more Fair
Than your Church doth, which nothing is but Air.
What we would have, they joyn with one Consent,
To have enacted by next Parliament:
You only say, that you may be so kind
To Poor Dissenters, as you then shall find
A Convocation shall think fit therein;
Which is, in short, a Church of England Gin,
To catch small Gudgeons, and thereby delude
The easie and too Credulous Multitude
Of Honest Whigs, who hope you'll now do more
Than ever you have promis'd heretofore;
Though others know your Priest Craft it is such
Against all those that come not too your Church;
That Parliaments themselves will always do,
What you, when met, shall then Advise them to:
So that our Freedoms from you first must come,
Or else Inslav'd until the day of Doom.
This we would have you ponder in your Mind,
Then tell poor Whigs how far you will be kind;
They do not know what in their streights to do,
Believe the Papists, or put trust in You;
They promise Liberty, you promise none,
But call Dissenters Men of Forty One:
So that unless that you will promise more,
We see no Reason why they should come o'er
Unto your Side, but keep their Station still,
To joyn with those as shall enact their Will.
They are as far from Popery as you,
And to the Christian Church will prove as True;
But when our English Papists shall declare,
As they have done, some things so Just and Fair
And we not joyn therein to have them Acted,
You then may tell us we are all Distracted.
We blame both Churches for your sinful Itch
Of Persecution, whereby to Enrich
So many Idle Drones as you have got
Within the Pale of your foul Garden Spot.
And by that Goddess Avarice and Pride,
Errors stick close unto both Churches side:
Who would not be a Priest, when he can make
The God that made him in a Wafer Cake?
And when so wrought, and to the Laicks shown,
They all do eat his Body, Flesh and Bone;
That very Body which hung on the Tree,
When Crucified, from Death to make us Free:
If this be true, why stand we in Suspence?
Let's haste to Rome with our St. Peter's Pence,
Which formerly this Land paid every Year,
As a small Homage to that Holy Chair;
And for that whisking Sum that is behind,
And in arrear, to our Dear Mother kind
Let's Prostrate on our Knees, and her Beseech
For to remit, and not to whip our Britch
(For playing Truant so long from her School,
And drawn away by each Reformed Fool;
Who doubtless will, if unto her we Pray,
And make Confession on St. Peter's Day,
And promise then no more to run Astray.
Shew True Repentance for the time to Come,
By our Obedience to the Church of Rome;
And if we see her smiling in her Looks,
Then promise fairly to burn all our Books.
This thing alone will do that Church more Good,
Than Smithfield Rounds when stain'd with Christian Blood.
(If now we will but fairly, all come in,
VVe may have Pardon for our greatest Sin)
Sanguis Martyrum Mobiles do hate,
Shows unto them an Antichristian State
VVho know no better, yet they plainly see
This cannot be the True Christianity,
To Burn a Man alive for doing Well,
This can't proceed from Heav'n, but sure from Hell.
Thanks be to God, our Prince is now become
A Member of Christ's Church, and not of Rome
In this one Point, which is worth all the Rest,
And for the same may his Dear Soul have Rest.
And after Death, may Limbus Patrum know,
Only a Ficton and a Rare Show;
A Hocus Pocus Trick of Roman Elves,
To Pick Mens Pockets to enrich themselves.
An Ignis Fatuus, only to delude
The great, unthinking, easie Multitude,
Who can't distinguish between Wrong and Right,
Between their Deeds of Darkness and true Light;
By Fisher-men of Rome 'twas first Invented,
And of this Net they never yet Repented:
They have no cause, and therefore never Will,
The choicest Piece of their rare Art and Skill.
So soon as made, Old Nets they threw away,
Instead of Fishing, learned how to Pray.
The Fisher-men of Barkin, had they made
But such a Net, what a Prodigious Trade
Had that Town got; nay, more we will be Bold,
They might, long since, have pav'd their Streets with Gold.
But they, poor Souls (alas!) did never sit
In Peter's Chair, to learn Successive Wit,
Which was improv'd so much by them who stood
To be Successors of that piece of Wood;
A Sacred Piece, no doubt, St. Peter's Chair
Wherein he sate at Rome, and there did wear
His Tripple Crown, although he ne'er came there.
A thing most strange, yet not so strange as True,
If you will search among the Learned Crew
Of Church Historians; 'tis a dubious Point,
Enough to put the Pope's Nose out of Joynt;
For they suppose (and this may end all Strife)
He never was at Rome in all his Life:
His Mission was unto the Jewish Race,
But to the Gentiles Paul did preach God's Grace.
But leaving this Contest, we'll tell you how
This Net was made, and who did Speed the Plow.
These Fisher-men, at their first setting out,
Caught only small Fish, seldom got a Trout;
But in short time, laying their Heads together,
They made a Net to serve all Winds and Weather,
And ever since, at every Haul and Throw
The caught Fat Salmons and small Gudgeons too,
Trouts, Tenches, Pikes, and Sharks too of all Sizes,
Whole Shoals of Whiteings of all Rates and Prizes,
Crabs, Lobsters, Praunes, and Cods-heads without number,
'Twas hard to part each others Lot asunder:
So many Souls sometimes are caught, that they
Have hardly Bags to Port that Fish away.
And when too small, they throw them back again,
Into that Element from whence they came,
Until such time they are a Statute Size,
Then to their Nets they are a Legal Prize.
Hum quoth Pope Pius, this will do our Feat,
When we impose this Pius Fraud and Cheat;
As a great Point of the True Christian Faith,
As now their Learned Authors plainly saith;
This is that Limbus Patrum they have found,
To purge all Souls which come with their Round:
VVho can them Blame for building such Free Schools,
To catch some Knaves, and to trappan rich Fools:
From East to West, from North to Southern Cape,
(Like Greedy Vultures) to commit a Rape
Upon our Senses and our Reasons they
VVill compass Sea and Land to get their Prey.
Their Sacra Fames to the Golden Ore,
Makes them love Fishing on the Indian Shore,
There is that Goddess which they so Adore.
Here we will leave them to give those the Lurch,
VVho are such Fops to trust in such a Church.
And to Conclude (our Muse) to please you all,
She now will Storm the Roman Capital,
By an Address unto those Prelates there,
VVhich are the highest, next the Roman Chair.
The Cardinals of Rome, these are the Men
She will attack, now with her Christian Pen;
And if our Scaleing Ladders do succeed,
VVe'll make his Hoary Head and Heart to Bleed;
And may the Heavenly Hoast inspire our Pen,
That by their Aid, these great and Mighty Men
May be so charm'd, as to confess and say
They have all erred, and have gone Astray.
Now with this Prologue we will Mount the Stage
Most Noble Lords, so learned and so Sage,
VVe humbly pray that you will please to hear,
VVhat now great Truth shall whisper in your Ear.
VVe here are come, most plainly you to tell,
How first the Wars betwixt you fell;
And Christ's true Church by your Usurping Popes,
From whose great Bondage now there is great Hopes,
That other Nations too, as well as we,
From that Egyptian Yoke may be set Free.
And it was thus, when first they did Presume,
Unto themselves a Power to Assume
Over Christs Church, which he did never give,
Nor never will, as long as they shall Live.
And by that Power, held with Force and Strife,
Made them all Rebels to the Lord of Life,
Which unto you shall plainly now appear,
If but with Patience you will lend an Ear;
And if you will own Scripture and your Reason,
You'll find them guilty of most Horrid Treason:
Truth doth impeach them, and they all shall have:
A Noble Trial most Genteel and Brave:
You shall be Judges both of Law and Fact,
This you must own to be a Genteel Act,
To make their Friends both Judge and Jury too,
Nothing but Truth would venture so to do.
These mighty Prelates (now suppos'd in Court)
After this Manner we will Storm their Fort.
First then they left their only Supream Head,
By willful straying to an Harlots Bed;
And by their Fornication, Wine and Oyle
The Nations of the Earth they did beguile.
Then was the War Proclaim'd, and did begin
Then was revealed, the great Man of Sin,
Justly so stiled by his coming In.
With lying Signs and Wonders to bewitch
Most Churches since, with his most sinful Itch,
And setting in Gods Temple, with his Cope,
There shews himself your great Lord God the Pope.
If this won't do, the Treason for to find,
We have a Nubes Testium yet behind.
And if your Foreman now shall take his Pen
Into his Hand, Record but now and then
Only the heads, of what they all shall swear,
Their evidence shall be strong and clear,
That Billa Vera, you will quickly find,
And how our Saviour never left behind
Such substitutes as now are at the Bar,
None of Christs Vicars, but Impostors are;
Let now your Court but call them and command
Silence a while, and you shall understand. Enter Witnesses.

You Roman Lords, whom now great truth as such,
Hath made you Judges of your Head and Church,
Though from that Head you have been rais'd so high,
Yet on your Justice she will now rely,
You seem as Men now much concern'd for those
Who are your Friends and never were your Foes.
Earth-quakes and Fires, Pestilence and Sword,
You hear too much from all those Friends abroad,
VVhich often are Præcursors of ill Fate,
Sometimes to Churches, sometimes to a State;
VVe wish they may but have their due Effect
Upon all those which God's Laws now neglect;
The Grand Superiors, though they seldom meet,
Yet when they do, their Aspects are not sweet.
If this Court please to try your present Head,
(Pope Innocent) who standeth in Christ's steed;
As all his Predecessors did before,
Find him but Guilty, let him pay their Score;
They will be punish'd in the World to come,
You may him punish now he's Pope of Rome:
(All are Vicegerents for the Golden Fleece,
Not for lean Rabbets, but for all Fat Geese.
As we have Sworn, we do declare here first,
That this Great Prelate hath betray'd that Trust
Which he pretends unto, as will appear
To this High Court, by Evidence most clear.
Christ's Precepts were, to teach Men by his Word,
His Precepts are to teach Men by the Sword.
Christ's Precepts were to live an Holy Life,
And when Men pleas'd, might take a Virtuous Wife.
His Precepts are so Chaste as to take none,
Like to that Virtuous Pope the Lady Joan.
Our Blessed Lord wash'd his Disciples Feet,
But this Great Lord, his Subjects they must Greet
His Sacred Toes, in that submissive Form,
As if to stoop he did abhor and Scorn.
Christ's Kingdom was to rule Mens Hearts and Souls,
But in his Kingdom he all Men Cajoles,
Both in their Bodies and their Souls likewise,
To make them all to him a Legal Prize.
Nay, more (My Lords) he doth Depose at Pleasure
His Neighbour Princes, to augment his Treasure;
Absolves their Subjects from that Faith and Trust,
They swear to them for to fullfil his Lust
When as he is but in a Rampant Fit
Never did Peter such a Sin commit,
Nor never did in such great Power sit.
His Doctrine was to Fear God and the King,
But his Successors they know no such thing.
Christ's Precept was, to let the Wheat and Tares
Grow till the Harvest, he plucks up the Ears
Of all the Wheat that in his Corn can find,
Roots all that up, but leaves the Tares behind.
Christ's Precept was to Peter; Feed my Sheep;
His Precepts are, to lay them fast asleep
By scorching Flames. He sends them under ground
Till the last Trump shall for their Bodies sound.
Christ's Worship was, in Spirit and in Truth,
His Worship is Trash, Trumpery and Froth.
Christ never twisted Church and State together,
But alwayes did his Church from State still Sever,
As not concerned with the Civil Sword,
To force his Subjects to obey his Word.
(His Souldiers alwayes must be Volanteers,
Or else they are not Wheat but musty Tares.)
But your great Prince, as great as Cup and Can,
Have twisted them together in one Man.
Look on him now, and on his Hoary Pate,
There you may read not only Church but State.
Old Gregory Gray-beard, Sice Ace of that Name,
So soon as he unto the Popedom came,
By his old subtle and great conjuring Art,
Of Church and State he then did get the Start;
Wresting the Power from great Cesar's Hand,
So Church and State he after did command.
This HEL-DE-BRAND, or Brand of Hell by Name
The greatest Blot unto the Christian Name,
The greatest Monster and the greatest Cheat,
That ever hap'ned to the Roman Seat,
Of all the Popes that ever rul'd before,
The nearest Type of the true Scarlet Whore;
Nay, some presume he was that Strumpet which
Saint John foresaw the Nations did Bewitch;
For ever since by his Example shown,
All his Successors have usurp'd Christ's Throne,
And taught their neighbour Princes the same Trade,
Christ's Power in God's Church for to Invade.
Blessed be God that English Men now see
That our great Prince from this great Sin is Free.
Pardon (My Lords) this small Digression here,
And we'll procceed to what we more can Swear.
Christ's Precepts were unto all Men to do
As they by others would be done unto;
That Golden Rule which he did them prescribe
To every Nation and to every Tribe;
But his Precepts are of another Strain,
As Thousands to their Cost (though to his shame)
Do daily find, which live within his Round;
He spareth none, but sends them to Lob's Pound.
Instead of giving all their Equal Right,
In doing wrong his Soul doth take Delight.
His quiet Subjects round him far and near
He Persecutes, because they quiet are;
Witness MOLINOS and his PEN-like Crew,
If this be Justice, pray (My Lords) Judge you,
To punish those who are both still and quiet,
Who would treat Men with that course sort of Diet,
(VVhich plainly shews with what invet'rate Hate
That Church still bears, to a true Christian State.)
God's Precepts are to Worship him alone,
Through Jesus Christ his true and only Son.
His Precepts are to Worship many more,
Thousands of Wafers they for Gods adore,
Who are his Subjects by his great Command,
(Good God what worship is in all his Land.)
The Heathen worship they have quite out-done,
In their adoring of the Rising Sun.
That Lamp hath Light, Heat, Motion, theirs have none,
They may as well fall to a Stock or Stone;
Yet they believe these Gods of Bread they see
Before their Eyes, to have Ubiquity.
Ten thousand Bodies in one place at once,
And of their Faith herein they greatly Bounce,
This they affirm, and this they do believe,
And pin their Faith upon your Churches Sleeve,
Although repugnant to all Sense and Reason,
Yet to deny it, doth amount to Treason
By Statute Law, as plainly did appear,
When as your Head and Church was fixed here.
His Prayers to all Saints is much the same,
Which ought to be in Christ's most Holy Name,
According to that Form he did Prescribe
To every Nation and to every Tribe,
To be observ'd, when they Addresses make
To the most High, should be for his Names sake
Who died for us, rose again to Save,
At the last Trump, Believers from the Grave.
And after that, would give Eternal Breath
To those who now are Faithful until Death.
Nay, his own Subjects he deludes so Far
As to Believe, those which but Creatures are
To be Omniscient; Oh! this Horrid Gin
Makes him undoubtedly the Man of Sin;
VVho doth exhalt himself so over All,
VVhom all true Christians the most High do call,
To pray to those, their wisest Men can't tell,
Whether their Souls are now in Heaven or Hell,
Is such a piece of Nonsence and ill Fame,
To give this Bastard Child a Proper Name,
We Language want, and therefore here must cease
Wishing your Honours Everlasting Peace.
(Although to speak the Truth, your Head and Pope
For this alone, he doth deserve a Rope.)
And now (My Lords) to sum up all what's said,
In this great Cause, wherein he hath betray'd
That only Trust which he pretends unto,
We ask no Favour, only Justice do.
These are the Crimes for which he stands Indicted
(Pope Innocent) Pray let him not be slighted
By your High Court, but let him Justice have,
Although it be to send him to his Grave.
We have arraign'd him, you his Cause have heard,
It lies on your Part, when to shave his Beard;
Great Truth doth still repose such trust in you,
You shall be Grand and Petty Jury too;
Which surely is so fair, all Men will judge,
That to be try'd by you he will not grudge;
And if you find your Head, that Scarlet Whore,
In Sacred Writ Reveal'd, we'll ask no more,
As we do hope you will, then shall we sing
Anthems, Te Deum's, to our Lord and King,
And all St. Peter's Bells in Rome shall Ring.
Should he plead Guilty, then we beg this Boon,
(In Truths behalf) he may not die so soon
As might expected be, for such a Crime,
For his Repentance, Pray let him have time;
But when his day of Execution comes,
Sound all your Trumpets and Beat all your Drums,
To call together all the Armed Force
You then can make, both of your Foot and Horse,
To Guard your City Gates, and all your Streets,
Least the enraged Mobile you meets,
To Rescue him out of your Cities Hands,
By their unruly and their Head-strong Bands;
For Education is so mighty strong,
They love no Changes, whether right or wrong.
This by Experience England now doth find,
He that don't see it, surely is Stone Blind.
Were English Boyes now on your City Ground,
They'd make no bones to Race her to the Ground.
We are afraid, they are so grievous Rude,
We cannot stop the present Multitude,
Against all those whom now they so much Hate,
Though in their Rage meet many a broken Pate.
Heav'ns so protect us from their Furious Heat,
They do not make both Prince and People Sweat.
And so (My Lords) we'll take our fair Adieu,
The Issues here, are solely left to you:
Our Proofs are plain, you cannot them withstand,
Ask your own Conscience, that will you command;
This Light within, which is on great Truth's side,
Will you Impeach, and all the World beside:
Consider then, how you are acted now,
Heav'ns you direct, and so God speed the Plow.
Though Innocent and Guilty we may Swear,
So opposite as Truth and Falshood are:
For to be Innocent and Guilty too,
A thing most strange, yet not so strange as true;
And shews to all who are not in a Heat,
All Innocent Popes are but a Sacred Cheat;
And tho' with Lambs Horns to the World appear,
Yet Wolves and Tygers to Christ's Flock they are.
Monstrum Horrendum we may truly say,
To all such Popes who have so gone Astray;
Yet by Experience we do daily find
Some Men among us of the self-same mind,
Who are a Limb of the right Scarlet Whore,
So long as Penal Statutes they Adore.
Good Lord forgive them if it be thy Will,
If not, Confound them in their Craft and Skill,
That so Christ's Church may more and more Increase,
And Truth proclaim an Everlasting Peace.
Heav'ns say Amen to what we do desire,
And save us all From Everlasting Fire.

Epilogus aut Conclusio.

What though the Church of England is so high?
What though the Kirk of Scotland is laid bye?
Though the same time she is a Crafty Spy.
What though the Church of Rome plays, Have at All?
What though Dissenters cry, No Church at all?
Were better much, than to have such a Church,
As leaves all others but themselves i'th' Lurch.
What though, last Spring, two Churches lay at Stake?
And neither would a saving Bargain Make:
One Church did hope to get the Upper Hand,
The other still would have the sole Command:
One Church, by chance, did get the Weather Gage,
Then smoke of Gun-shot made the other Rage:
One would not stoop, the other would not yield,
And by consent they both did take the Field.
They both were sullen, and were both so High,
And neither would with our fair Muse comply
To give her License, though if then they had,
For ought they know, times had not been so bad
With some of them, yet still we hope to see
All things to end in Perfect Amity.
No Warlike Drums within our Streets shall hear,
But all our Churches Orange Flowers bear;
All Antichristian Laws shall be abhor'd,
And all with Meekness serve the Highest Lord.

A Copy of VERSES long since made, but very Proper at this present Conjuncture to be Perused by some straight-laced Men, now of our English Nation, Viz.