I Received your Booke, which it pleased you out of your free grace to send mee, assuring you that you could not have bestowed it on any man that [Page 2] more esteem'd, or lesse merited the ho­nor: for though I number my selfe a­mongst the most un­worthy to obtain e­ven the lowest place in your memory; yet I ranke my selfe a­mongst the formost in praising your ver­tue, by which you [Page 3] have ascended to the summity of elegancy of Phrase, and draw­ing the Bridle after you, have left at once Admiration, and dis­paire to posterity. Of the description of e­loquence made by the Antients (which was reputed no other then an Idaea) you [Page 4] have formed a Body, and shew'd that there is a Plus ultra in that Art which they ne­ver arriv'd at. The force and dexterity of your Wit, hauing pass'd the limits of their imagination, you at once informe, & ravish the understan­ding, and linke toge­ther [Page 5] two things rare­ly sociable, Solidity and Ornament. This Age cannot boast of a greater felicity then to have produc'd a man that hath by ef­fect exprest how far Eloquence can extend: but I had ra­ther discourse of this subiect with others [Page 6] then your selfe., who (without affecting prayse) are content onely to merit it, which the more you shunne, the closer it follows you. He that would praise your Pen to the full, must borrow it, which to exercise, I vow you have chosen a subject [Page 7] answerable to your a­bility: for as the ac­tions of the King could not be perfor­med by any but him­selfe, so they could not worthily be dis­crib'd by any but you. Indeed you insult over our Mōsieur de Balzac in writing the late troubles in France, ta­xed the Protestant party with disloyalty. miseries, yet are not blamea­ble, in that you write [Page 8] out of your owne fee­ling and apprehensi­on, as also that with­out this Maister-stroake, the Picture of the King could not bee perfectly fi­nished. Of whose po­wer, though GOD hath made use in our humiliation, yet hath not his M ^ty forgotten [Page 9] our ancient servi­ces, nor that the dead King his father, of glorious memory, in the time of his afflic­tion, had no other Sanctuary then our Churches. You will not be offended, Sir, if I tel you that in my conceit the Lord presents you with ano­ther [Page 10] subiect, suteable to so excellent a spi­rit as is yours, viz. the valour & happy successe of the King of Sweed. For (since the King whom you draw with so rich colours can not any way be sulled or darkned by the praise of this other) you shall [Page 11] follow, I believe, his inclination, in Lim­ming the Picture of the King, an Emula­tour of his Vertue. In the meane time this Worke of yours shall not be to me only a proofe of your suffi­ciency, but a testimo­ny of your bounty, w ^ch when I shall behold [Page 12] amongst my other bookes I shall begin to thinke my selfe some body, since by such a present you testifie the good opi­nion you have of me, w ^ch shall oblige me to wish you all happines, and to remained,

NO Modesty can resist praise pro­ceeding from you, and I should much dissemble should I denie that I tooke [Page 14] pleasure in being ta­ken with the first lines of your Letter. But I knew my selfe too well to remaine long in that errour. I am now awakned out of this plesing dream and clearely see that when you speake so much in honor of my industry, you lay a­side [Page 15] the severity of your Iudgment. You have done me more favour then Iustice, and to praise me, you have run the hazard of offending Truth her selfe. Now that you your selfe are ar­riv'd at the Gole, you encourage both w ^th hands & voice those [Page 16] that are in the Car­riere, & to perswade them to follow you, make them beleeve they may goe be­yond you. And this was (without Ly­ing) an admirable device, which at first sight I discovered not: But be it as it will, from what principle [Page 17] soever this Glo­rious approbation of me is deriv'd, sure I am, I value it at no lower a rate then a man ambitious does a Crowne, and with­out penetrating into your designe. I glory in my Fortune, w ^ch is not small, Si ^r, in that I am belov'd of you, [Page 18] whom I ever per­fectly honour'd, and whom I have a long time beheld in the Huguenot party as an excellent Pilot, who braves a whole Fleet in a single Bri­gandine. We have the right, and au­thority, but you the Subtilty, & the Stra­tagems, [Page 19] and you re­pose as great trust in your Wit, as we in our cause. It is cer­taine that this way you are able to give Sedition the Coun­tenance of a just Warre, and to a multitude of Muti­niers, the face of an Army well disci­plin'd. [Page 20] By this you endeere to many an opinion, which hath lost the grace of its Verdure, & though it incline to it's de­clination, yet must we acknowledge that it retaines both fea­tures, and colour in your Writings, and that never man knew [Page 21] better the Art of gi­ving Weakenes a sha­dow, or of supporting Ruine with a greater strength. I speake al­waies in this Phrase, when you are my Theame, and side not w ^th the Vulgar, who never keepe entire the liberty of their Iudgement, nor are [Page 22] apprehensive of their owne defects, or o­ther mens Vertues. For my owne part, out of what Cloud so ever the Day breaks it is faire in my Eye and I assure my selfe that even in Rome the more honest, & well bred People prais'd Haniball, & [Page 23] that none but Rogues revil'd him. It is no other then a kind of Sacriledge, to ravish from any man the gifts of GOD, and should I not confesse that you have recei­ved, much, I should Iudge my selfe jniu­rious to him, who hath conferred much [Page 24] on you, and in a dif­ferent cause, should offend our common Benefactor. True it is that sometimes I have not flattered your party, & that I was a little incens'd against the Authors of these last Troubles. But having obseru'd in your bookes, that [Page 25] our Iudgements are conformable, and that the subiection due to Soveraignty makes a part of the Religion you teach, and pro­fesse, I thought I might well deliver your consent as I did, being in that no other then your simple Inter­preter. Whether [Page 26] the Tempest arise ftom the North, or the South, it is to me alike odious, and I professe not to take a patterne of my Du­ty either from Eng­land, or Spaine. My Humour is not to combat the Times, but to oppose some present occurrences. I [Page 27] have enough to doe to conceive the Idaea of Cato, and Brutus, and living under the command of ano­ther, I find not amore commodious Vertue then obedience. Were I a Smisse, I would content my selfe to be the Kings Godfather, and would by no [Page 28] meanes be his Sub­iect, nor change my liberty for the best Maister of the World, but since GOD hath caus'd me to be borne in Chaines, I will carry them cheere­fully, and being nei­ther cumbersome nor heavy, I will not hurt my Teeth in essaying [Page 29] to bite them asun­der. There is a great apparance that Hea­uen approves a Gover­ment which it hath preserv'd during the succession of twelue Ages. Had an evill continued so long, it would have become in a manner legitti­mate. If antiquity in [Page 30] men be venerable, in States it ought to be Sacred. Those great Spirits I describe in my worke, which were of your party should have liv'd at the beginning of the World, and have gi­ven Lawes to a new people, and labour'd to establish a new [Page 31] Goverment. But as the invention of good things is necessary, so the mutation even of bad is dangerous. I have not a Cruell thought, but such as aime at the Heads of your party, against whom I inveigh as Enemies, nor is it my intent to insult over [Page 32] your miseries, with which inhumanity, though civilly, you reproach me. Should I be guilty this way, who have publish'd that the King should be blessed by all the World, if (having once abated the pride of the Rebells) hee trampled not on the [Page 33] infortunity of the afflicted? The Perse­cutors of those that submit themselves are with me in the same execration with the Violaters of Tombes. I doe not onely pitty, but in some sort reverence affliction. I know that heretofore it was the [Page 34] Custome to conse­crate the places struc­ken with Lightning. The finger of GOD is to be reverenced in the persons of the miserable, and great adversities should ra­ther produce Reli­gion, then receiue re­proaches. But I should speake improperly [Page 35] should I give the Kings successe such an Epithite. In his Victory we all are winners. All the penalty imposed on those of your party, is to be as happy as we our selves, and they are at this day possessors, and enioyers of that secu­rity, whereof before [Page 36] the taking of their Citties they were e­ven fond, and jea­lous. Our King will not compell the Con­sciences of his Sub­iects to put on the Yoake, neither desires he to have them re­ceiue by force that w ^ch ought not to bee admitted but by per­swasion, [Page 37] nor to make use of such remedies against the French as are onely proper against the Moores. If the King of Swede demeane himselfe thus in his prosperity, and that he doe not sully so pure a gift w ^th proscriptions, & pu­nishments, I here pro­mise [Page 38] you to performe what you desire of me, and to imploy all my Art, & Tooles in erecting him a Sta­tue. You hit my in­clination on the head in intreating me to praise this Prince, in whose Scarfe if all the Crowns Imbroy­dered were turned [Page 39] into so many King­domes, they would not in my opinion, be too much to recompence a Vertue so rare, or to busie a spirit so vast: As I expect no­thing, but what is great from his Ua­lour, so I hope for nothing but what is [Page 40] just from his Equity; and though in Spaine they have declared him to be the true Antichrist, I am not devout enough to be­leeve this Newes, nor fearefull enough to be daunted at it. I onely answer the scrupulous who questi­on me thereupon, that [Page 41] the King hath in the meane time a Second that does him good service, and that one could not present the House of Austria any thing to study on that better diverted it from the care it tooke of our affaires. I will passe no further, Sir, it is better to rest at [Page 42] the dore of holy pla­ces, then enter with­out preparation, be­sides this discourse is become already very long, for the begin­ning of our acquain­tance. It may please you to pardon the content I take to entertaine you, w ^ch is the cause I have [Page 43] neither beene mind­full of your affaires, nor my owne custome, which is not to Preach to my friends: but you gave mee the Text that I handled, and I thought that in laying my heart open to you, even to the ve­ry bottome, and not dissembling my thoughts [Page 44] you would repose hence forward, con­fidence in my free­dome, with which I protest truely that I am

I Had long ere this answer'd your Letters, had they bin in my custo­dye, but they ran vp and downe the Citty [Page 46] a long time, every Man being desirous of a Coppie, and from the Citty they passed to the Villages, where the Plague had scatter'd us. For al­though in all your writings the force, and vivacity of your Wit shines forth be­ing season'd with [Page 47] grace, and sweetnes, yet in these Letters we find you have sur­passed your selfe, so ela­borate is the stile, & the conception strong, lofty & delightfull. They are both con­spicuous, and the So­lidity takes not away the clearenes, in w ^ch you are most unlike [Page 48] many writers of these times, who through many thornes give a small light, such as a glasse sends forth being placed in a Bryer. Wherefore in reiecting the prai­ses which I ascribed to your Pen, you shew by effect that you merit them: For [Page 49] you refuse the title of Eloquent with so much Eloquence, that it seemes you have endeavoured to prove that your modesty is uniust, & to accuse me as defective in your praise. If you desire beleife, you must change your Stile, & that you may be per­swasive [Page 50] become Bar­barous. It would bee much to my disad­vantage to insist up­on every part of your Letter. I dare not en­ter with you into these lists, for I never made profession of Elegant speech, it sufficeth me to be un­derstood, the Scope [Page 51] of my writing, not being to tickle the Eare, but to peirce the Conscience. It is a priviledge they have who maintaine the true Doctrine, that their Incongruities passe for Elegancies, making Barbarisme, and Truth sociable: for as the Red, and [Page 52] Blew Flowers grow­ing amid'st the Corne are pleasing to the sight, but detrimentall to the Haruest: So the insertion of Rethori­call ornaments into good, & sound Doc­trines diminisheth the fruite of instruction, and makes us insteed of relishing the mat­ter [Page 53] to dwell upon the words, and poize the Periods. These flow­ers must fall before the Fruit Flourish. A downe right phrase often times makes a far greater impression. I may adde that it is be hoofefull in such ca­ses sometimes to ap­ply strong reprehen­sions. [Page 54] Here to use flowers of Retoricke is as if a man should whip his Children with a Nose-gay. It is for false Religions to borrow these evasions. As in their Churches and Ceremonies they de­sire splendor, so they require a lofty & ar­tificiall Language. [Page 55] They are in this like to a Woman all gliste­ring with Diamonds, but wanting her eyes. I speake this Sir, in way of answer to the offensive praises w ^ch you too liberally be­stow upon me. You applaud in me the rare quality of ly­ing, & of defending a [Page 56] bad cause w ^th dexterity, and Stratagems, ha­ving neither right, nor authority. You affirme also that I up­hold an opinion which hath lost its Verdure, being in the declina­tion, and to praise me to the height you say, I am able to give Sedition the face of [Page 57] a iust Warre, which dexterity in sedusing you ranke amongst the gifts of God, & have in it great e­steeme. Thus in tick­ling you pricke me, & raise me to a high and Eminent Seate, having first begrim'd and disfigur'd mee. Pardon me Sir, if I [Page 58] tell you that there is no blame which is not more tollerable then these praises. To imploy Art and in­dustry, to defend Er­ror serves to no o­ther purpose, then to goe to Hell with a better grace, to swee­ten poyson, & to damne himselfe, and others [Page 59] with greater dexte­rity. It were a thou­sand times better for such a man to be dumbe then so unfortunat­ly Eloquent, & to be the most sottish a­mongst men, then to be Master of such an ingenious perversity. He should make a wrong estimate who [Page 60] should number a fra­dulent Eloquence, a­mongst the gifts of God, whereas, indeed, it is the Divell him­selfe, who sharpens the tongue and Pen of such a Man, and lends him Armes to Warre against God himselfe. In a word, you give me such prai­ses [Page 61] as Homer bestow­ed on Paris when he comended the faire­nesse of his haire, but withall makes him the ruine of his coun­try. If Riches, Bene­fices, and Pensions were on our side to be obtayned, then you had some colour to thinke that a Spi­rit [Page 62] ambitious of Emi­nency might be inti­fed by these baites to defend a bad cause. But ( Poverty, & ig­nominy being the inseparable compa­nions of our pro­fession) to abandon Vertue, without re­ceiving a reward, were to loose Piety, [Page 63] & common sence to­gether. Whereas you say our Religion hath lost the louely title of new: I answer, that it is impossible it should loose that it never had: But if it were, or had bin new, this can not be ascribed to it as a grace, but as a marke, or Scarre, [Page 64] left it by Novelty, which may impart a grace to habits, or sauces, but not to the Doctrine of Salvation. Italy is deservedly up­braided with it, where the New Saints rob the Old of Glory, & the Romish Church, in w ^ch the Pope vaunts, he hath power to al­ter [Page 65] that which God hath commanded in his word, & to make new Articles of Faith who not being able to say with St Peter, Silver, and Gold have I none, makes use of his Fisher-boate to trafique, & causeth his Keyes to Iingle, whose Lockes hee [Page 66] hath changed. From this head the deflucti­on is fallen upon the Body of the Clergy. He hath brought a­gaine the Banke into the Temple, & lea­ving out the Domi­nicall letter, gives him selfe over to the Gol­den number. From hence it proceedes [Page 67] that all things with him are vendible, e­ven God himselfe, and the remission of Sins, & that private Masses are onely said for the Soules of those who have beene be­neficiall to the Church. A rich man can not dye at a cheape rate, ingenious Auarice [Page 68] having found out a way to extract from the very Sepulchers. There scarcely can be a greater change then of a spirituall Monarchy, to make a Temporall. But our Religion is the pure, & antient Christia­nity, being onely new in this, that it rejects [Page 69] all Novelty, & esteems all Doctrine as new, which was not from the beginning. Ce­lestiall Truth being brought into the world by the Sonne of GOD himselfe, the violence, & commo­tion of the people have no more strength to withstand it, then [Page 70] have the Winds to divert the rayes of the Sun. Wherefore I make an Augury cleane contrary to yours, and in steede of the declination you speake of assure my selfe that it will flou­rish, & with its lustre penetrate, & disperse the darkenesse of the [Page 71] Age. And I wonder how you can flatter your selfe, with so vaine a hope in a time wherein our Religi­on receives so ample an increase in the Nether-lands, and in Germany, even in the Greek Churches, con­forming themselves to our confession, [Page 72] drawne thereto by the cleare Evidence of Truth. It is with­out doubt one part of the praise you re­serue for the King of Sweed, that he did contribute to so good a worke, whose Cle­mency (besides his Valour & successe) you will extoll in that [Page 73] in all places by him conquer'd, he used no violence against the Roman Clergy, but spared the Iesuits themselves, although they teach the Mur­ther of Princes, & that their Schooles have Produced soe many King-killers. These have not long agoe [Page 74] called this King An­tichrist, now in their Colledges compose panegyricks in his praise. If our Chur­ches in France suffer any diminution, that is not caused by ver­tue of the contrary party, but by the a­varice of some of our Nobility, which im­paires [Page 75] their Dignity, in making them listen to this, Tibi Dato, propounded by that grim Docter to the Sonne of God. A­gainst the force of I­ron and Steele many have sufficiently ar­med themselves, but not against that of Silver, & in this Gol­den [Page 76] Age a bag of Pis­tolets is of great weight, and put in ballance against Conscience it selfe often outweighs it. But the Church is no more weakened by this, then is a Bo­dy by Vomiting a worme, or voiding putrifaction. Pride, Vanity, and Avarice, [Page 77] are more conveni­ently lodg'd in the Temple of an Jdol, then in the House of God. True it is that they of your party, doe speak of our Re­ligion with great dis­dayne, as of a Cause deplored, which not­withstanding hath often rais'd it selfe [Page 78] from the very ground. They speake of us, as if we enterprised to undermine the Alpes with a Pin, or to run a Lyon through w ^th a straw. They defile, & deforme us with In­iuries, and deale w ^th us, as Whilome did the Enemies of the Gospell, who clad the [Page 79] Martirs in skinnes of wild Beasts, to animate the Dogge to teare, and devoure them. Thus they disfigure us, & set us out like Mon­sters, to incense the People against us. But the Sonne of GOD hath prepar'd us to indure this disgrace, he himselfe having [Page 80] pass'd through the like trialls. And we ought not to lessen, much lesse loose our Courage, since it is Gods cause, who can turne hinderances into helpes, and through impossibilities cut out, and plaine him­selfe a way. I promise my selfe so much from [Page 81] your goodnes & Pru­dency, that you will beare with me if I be very sensible in this Point, for you are too cleere sighted not to discerne the weake­nesse of your cause, having a long time liv'd in Rome, where examples of Vices mingle themselves [Page 82] with Decisions of faith, where the Iewes (Enemies to the name of Christ) live in peace, but the Christi­ans, & the Faithfull are condemned to the Fire; where in Lent the Shambles are shut, & the Stewes open, where the Peni­tents whip themselves [Page 83] in publique for the sinnes of others; where there is an Or­dinary Traffique of Annats, Benefices, Dispensations, & Ab­solutions, & I remem­ber to have read in one of your Letters, that it is good fish­ing there, & that you distinguish between [Page 84] the Roman Religion & the Papall Court, least the corruption of the one should prove a prejudice to the othet. Yet doth this Court Governe, and give rules to that Religion. An excel­lent Wit as yours, will not be fetter'd with such Childish opini­ons. [Page 85] You have no doubt a more nice, & delicate Religion then the Vulgar, and of that which your Church ordaines take but so much as is a­greeable to your hu­mour. Without question you laugh at the Hipocondria­call devotion of them [Page 86] who adore Bones, and kisse, and cloth, Images, & turning the Consecrated Graines repeat prayers by Art, in words which they vnderstand not. Assu­redly you judge it not fit, that Service should be said in an unknowne Tongue, as if God were be­come [Page 87] to men a Bar­barian, or the Pope had forbidden God himselfe to speake French. At Rome you might have seene Al­tars to w ^ch the Pope hath fastned Pardons of a hundred & two hundred Thousand yeares, w ^th as many Quarantaines, & the [Page 88] faculty of delivering a Soule out of Purga­tory. You have seene the Superstitious mad­nesse of the People, who come two or three hundred Leagues to a Iubily, to have re­mission of their Sins, which God presents to us at home by the Doctrine of the Gos­pell. [Page 89] You are not ig­norant from what ground the Pope de­rives this Liberality, which is that he trea­sures up the supera­bundancy of Fasts, of Buildings, of Pil­grimages, of Saints, & of Munkes, & turnes them into satisfacti­on for the Sins of o­thers. [Page 90] When at Rome you cool'd your Cham­ber with an artificiall Gale, able to give a Ship way, & ascended your Coach onely to crosse the streete, you thought little of these Superstitions. If you will be so curious as to peruse the Mis­sall, and read there [Page 91] the cautions, & Ru­briques, which pro­vide for inconueni­ences, in case the Wind should carry God away, or the Rats eate Iesus Christ, or the Preist disgorge him, certainely you will then excuse us, and say, It is no won­der that these poore peo­ple [Page 92] can hardly disgest these things, being noe way correspondent to the dignity of the sonne of God. Upon two Points we cheifly in­sist, the one is the suc­cession of the Pope in the Apostolate, & Pri­macy of Saint Peter: and the other is the office w ^ch the Preists [Page 93] assume to themselves, of being Sacrificers of the Body of Christ, yet could we never ob­taine a proofe of the institution of these two tenents by the word of God. But of these matters too much is already said, from which superfluity I had abstain'd, had [Page 94] not you provoked me to it, To the re­mainder of your Let­ter I subscribe. Obe­dience to our Sove­raignes is a thing just, and necessary. To find out occasion of Re­bellion either in a mans owne Religion or in that of his King is to make insurrections [Page 95] to defend Reli­gion by courses con­demned by the same Religion. Such as these being perplexed in their owne parti­cular affaires, hope to find ease in troub­led waters, and to save themselves a­midst a Confusion. Never yet did the [Page 96] cause of God ad­vance it selfe that way. Moses had po­wer to inflict greiui­ous punishments on Aegypt, & her King, notwithstanding he would never deliver the children of Israell out of Aegypt with­out the permission of the King. I am of [Page 97] opinion that in Ci­vill affaires it is more expedient for the people to have a bad Master, then none at all. How much then are we bound ( ha­ving a good and merci­full Prince) to ten­der him faith and o­bedience? who in pardoning us hath [Page 98] not done like those, whose Clemency is attended by disdaine, esteeming their offen­dours not worthy their anger. But hee hath in this follow­ed his owne naturall inclination, which leads him not onely to Pardon, but to benefit, so that to be [Page 99] Conquer'd by him is an advantage. For the rest, I never belee­ved that there can be a worse State then an Anarchy, where e­very one is a Slave, because every one is a Master, and where excesse of Liberty is cause of servitude: For this Liberty [Page 100] brings with it Licen­tiousnesse, and Licenti­ousnesse Confusion, & Confusion servitude. As the hand were an improper mem­ber, if all the Fingers were of a just length: so a multitude of e­quall persons can not move without dis­commodity. Your [Page 101] Maxime that the change even of the worst Lawes is dan­gerous, holds good in all save in matters of Religion. To sub­ject our selves by do­cility to Lawes w ^ch leade directly to Hell were to breake the Lawes Divine; nei­ther can they who [Page 102] make such Lawes se­cure before GOD those that obey them. But where onely the losse of Goods, and Life is in question, there it is better to put on an unjust Yoke, then to be free'd by the disturbance of the Publique Peace, & rebellion against [Page 103] our Soveraigne: for the force of humane Lawes doth not con­sist in this, that they are just, but in this, that they are Lawes, and ordain'd by him, who hath authority. And though some things in them are unjust, yet it is just to obey them. There [Page 104] are many States w ^ch have enjoyed a long time Peace, and pro­sperity under unjust Lawes duely obser­ved, and other some there are, who living under good Lawes ill observ'd, have fal­len into Ruine & con­fusion. This Peace, and Prosperity is e­ver [Page 105] to be found more firme and durable in a Monarchy, then in any other forme of State, for this is the only civil government which imitates the universal government of the world, where there is but one Ma­ster, & all other states when they are come [Page 106] to a full growth, must of necessity be re­duc'd to this. And a­mongst the Monar­chies which at this day have a subsist­ence, that of France excells both for an­tiquity & good lawes. That this State is well compos'd, the unstable humour of [Page 107] our Nation addicted to Innovation is an evident proofe w ^ch (had not the frame beene firme and the edifice well cimented) had ere this vtterly subverted the King­dome. Being borne under this Monarchy, we desire the pro­sperity of it, & wish [Page 108] that the Crowne of our Kings, may be like that of an Egge, which alwayes as in Age, so in growth increaseth. Were our Religion general­ly received in France, the royall Maiesty would be the more exalted, & his power more then by halfe [Page 109] augmented: for then the Pope would pre­tend no longer to have power over the Life, & Crowne of our Kings, nor would boast any more that their deposition de­pends on his Beck. There would then be in France no other Iustice then the Kings, [Page 110] Contentions arising on this side the Alpes would no more bee decided at Rome ▪ their Clergy should bee subiect to the Ci­uill Lawes & should be iusticeable before the Royall Iudges. The Silver of the Kingdome shoulde no longer be exhau­sted, [Page 111] and bee sent to Rome in Exchange for Annates, Dispen­sations, and Pardons. Soe much Land of the Nobles possessed by the Clergy now lying dead, should owe the same service, and Tributes to the King, as doe other Lands in the possession [Page 112] of the Nobility. To be briefe, I dare af­firme, that the prin­cipall cause why wee are hated, is, that we defend by the word of GOD, the right of our Kings against the Usurpation of Popes, who make them kisse their Pan­taple, and under co­lour [Page 113] of Pennance, inflict on them Cor­porall punishments. But this is our un­happines, that as the Scripture is a booke hidden from our Kings, so in that which concernes the liberty, and inde­pendency of their Crownes, they learn [Page 114] nothing, but from those the Pope holds tied by the Belly. But I have procee­ded too farre The pleasure that I take in entertaining you, makes me forge that I write an Epistle, not a booke, and hath carried me be­yond my lymitts. [Page 115] That clause of your Letter wherein you say I am able to give Sedition the face of a just Warre, hath incited me to take a kind of Revenge in tormenting you w ^th the length of my Letters. That shall not hinder me from [Page 116] admiring the Beauty and Vigour of yout Witt. I ho­nour the gifts of GOD where e­ver I find them. On the other side I hope the small tartnes, and sharp­nesse of my stile shall not deprive [Page 117] him of your good Graces who ho­nours you, and is Monsieur,