University of Virginia Library

A Short relation of some of the mighty Miracles done by the Apostles in the name and power of Iesus.

Three thousand Soules, S. Peter in one day,

Act. 2. 41.

By preaching, turn'd into the heavenly way;
He cur'd the Cripple, reade but Acts the third,
Strooke dead two deep dissemblers with his word:

Acts 5. 1.

Cur'de old Æneas, palsied, weak, and lame,

Acts 9. 34.

These things Saint Peter did in Iesus name.
Cur'd people with his shadow, and reviv'd
Tabitha (whom Death had of life depriv'd,

Acts 9. 40,

And after (fetter'd) in close prison shut,
An Angell him at liberty did put.
Let me see one of you such rare things doe,
And then Ile say you have the Spirit too.
Saint Paul gave Sergius Paulus heavenly light,

Acts 12. 7.

Inchanting Elimas he reav'd of sight;
Did Lidia and the Jaylour both convert,

Acts 13. & 16.

And did the holy Ghost to twelve impart,

Acts 19. 16.

And they straitwaies spake severall tongues most plain,
And I believe ne're went to schoole again.
If Napkins or handkerchiefes did but touch
The corpes of Paul, the force of faith was such,
That fiends did flie, and vexed soules had rest;
And from possest men devils were dispossest,
And were but some of you well hang'd or whip'd,
And that your shirts were from your corpses strip'd
Or else your whip, or halter well would try,
If (by their touch) they'd make the devils flie,
And leave possession, I dare lay my life
There's many a man would use them on his wife.
But no such vertue doth from you ensue,
For if there did, the devill would flie from you.
Sweet Brethren of the Sect of Ignoramus,
You that despise Te Deum and Laudamus,
You that doe for our humane learning blame us,
I wonder what Religion you would frame us;
You, without any learning, barbarous, rude,
How dare you sacrilegiously intrude
In Church-affaires, not being call'd or sent,
And with your brazen faces impudent,
To pick Gods secret Closset ope, and pry
(Most saucy) In th'Almighties secrecy:
Is't not enough, you have his Will reveal'd,
But you'le needs know his secret will conceal'd,
Break up the closset doore, and boldly get
Into th'eternall, heavenly Cabinet.
This is a theft contemptible most high,
(Transcendent Felony and Burglary)
And those proud thieves, at doomes day must not looke
To be repriev'd, or saved by their booke.
Some there have been, so malapertly mad,
To guesse what talk Christ with the Doctors had:
To know where Moses body buried lies,
Where Edens garden was, or paradise,
What God did doe before the world he fram'd,
And where hell stands (appointed for the damn'd)
These curious Constables would search and peepe
Through heaven, earth, sea, aire, and th'infernal deep,
And for their needlesse studies, paines, and care,
They do conclude (like Cox-combs) as they are,
In boasting knowledge they themselves advance,
When all their skill is blinded ignorance.
All you of this pure self-conceited Sect,
That brag your selves to be the Lords Elect,
Me thinkes it is too much for you or yours,
To be Gods Courtiers, not his Counsellours;
Where have you that rare revelation found,
The Scriptures closest mysteries to expound:
Is it because you wit and learning want,
Or will the truth dwell with the ignorant:
Must the best preachers be unlearned fooles?
Then downe with Universities and Schooles,
Your Libraries, your Halls, and Colledges,
If ignorance surpasse your knowledges.
The word of God was faithfully translated
By learned men, o're-spread and propagated:
'Twas done by Schollers, had it not been done
Till you had don't, we all had been undone.
Ye'r bid to search the Scriptures 'tis confest,
You are not bid the Scriptures sence to wrest,
To metamorphose, alter, wring, and wrie
Gods Word according to your fantasie,
Ye 'have leave to heare, or reade it, 'tis not fit
You, or your Kennell should interpret it;
For should we trust to your interpretation,
We should have an unhandsome Congregation.
When God declar'd his Law in dreadfull thunder
Upon Mount Sinai, full of feare and wonder,

Exod. 19. 12.

'Twas present death to any that was there,
That dar'd to touch the hill, or come too neere.
When as the Ark was back return'd again,
That seven monthes with the Philistines had lain,
Then fifteen hundred Bethshemites were strooke

1 Sam. 6. 19.

Stark dead, for daring in the Ark to looke.
When Vzzah, fearing that the Ark would fall,

2 Sam. 6. 7.

Put to his hand, was straight strook dead withall,
His office only was to drive the Cart,
To touch the Arke was no part of his part.
Since Vzzah for his good will to hold up
The falling Ark, did taste deathes bitter cup;
Since those that once to looke into it dar'd,
Or those that toucht Mount Sinai were not spar'd,
What can a Cobler look for, or a Knave,
Who in the Church (or Arke) no function have?
Yet dares most saucily to preach and prate
Against all orders, learning, Church, and State.
It is most lamentable that so far,
Men so besotted, or be-devill'd are,
That witlesse Rascals are held more divine
Then Ierome, Ambrose, Gregorie, Augustine,
Or all the ancient Fathers (in a word)
Their learnings and their labours held absurd
By scabs, and varlets, of no worth or merit,
But impious boasting of th'inspiring Spirit;
And had each one of you his right and due,
Your spirit should be sharply whip'd from you,
And when you felt the acutenesse of the lash,
You would esteem your doctrine Balderdash.
For in Saint Austins time, he made complaint,
That eighty two Sects did the Church attaint;
Since when, could I all Heresies recount,
The number (trouble) treble will amount;
Yet in that Fathers daies, that reverend man
Did ne're heare of the Sect call'd Puritan,
And sure the name of Puritan doth yeeld,
A good mans nickname, and a bad mans shield,
It is a cover for a cheating Knave,
And 'tis a jeare, a good man to deprave;
But both the good and bad, what e're they be,
They get no name of Puritan from me.
I write of Separatists, and Schismatiques,
Of shallow-pated, harebrain'd Heretiques,
Such as doe make the Text a Lesbian rule,
Whose faith or reason (like the Horse or Mule)
Whom neither Law, or sence can curb or bridle,
Who ne're are well imploy'd, nor never idle.
A man may well compare those Separatists
Unto the hot Gun-powder Romanists:
For though they doe each other deadly hate,
And one the other faine would ruinate,
Yet both in their conclusions doe agree,
The ruine of our Church and State to be.
Their head's (like Sampsons Foxes) sundred wide,
But yet their tailes are fast together ty'd;
For both doe joyntly joyn, and both desire,
With fire-brand zeale to set our Corn on fire.
To spoile our Government established,
And (through the world) most famous published,
They joyne together to consume and burne,
And with confusion waste and overturne
All ancient order, rule, and decency,
And doctrine, from the prime antiquity.
Thus both the grounds, & aimes of both those Sects
Agree both (in their tailes) for their effects,
How er'e their heads, East, West, South, North, may sever,
Their ends are one, to seek our downfal ever.
And of these two opposers (I'le bar swearing)
'Tis hard to know which barrell's better Herring:
But (of the twaine) a man shall alwaies finde
The Schismatique most obstinate inclin'd,
And the more ignorant he is, the worse,
Most stubborne, sencelesse, shallow in discourse;
The Papist makes some shew of wit and sence,
And seeming reason for his false pretence,
And from him I may something gain, whereby
My faith (more firmly) I may fortifie;
For though I doe not credit his dispute,
Yet (by disputing) I may gaine some fruit.
But from the other side I dare presume,
I shall have nothing else but froth and fume,
With hasty answers, peevish, testy, snappish,
Untoward, wayward, nonsence, fruitlesse, apish.
These, none but these hold learning in disdain,
And all for use divine, accurst, and vaine,
All humane knowledge therefore they detest,
Th'unlearn'd (they say) do know the Scriptures best:
That humane learning breeds confusion,
Most fit for Ægypt, Rome, and Babylon,
And that the learned ones were, are, and shall
Be ignorant of humane learning all.
These with some other idle fancies mix'd,
In their unfix'd opinions are all fix'd.
But stay (my Muse) hold, whither wilt thou gad?
The learned Reader sure will thinke thee mad,
Because thou art so tiring, tedious, long
About these Screetchowles with thy Cuckoes song:
And though I seeme those Caitiffes to condemne,
Yet idle babling makes me seeme like them,
'Tis best therefore, no longer time to spend,
But some few lines, and briefly make an end.