WIth as many faces, and as much pain as ever tooth was drawn, I made shift a while ago to wade through a most vile and dirty pamphlet of yours with this Title: A Let­ter from Dr. Robert Wild upon occasion of his Majesties Declaration for Liberty of Con­science, together with his Poetica Licentia, [Page 2] &c. Which pamphlet I found all the way pretending to most extraordinary joy and thanks; but of such a witless and slovenly kind, that could his Majesty have possibly imagined that his Clemency could have been so saucily abused, and his kind­ness so nastily and Sirreverentially received, most certainly Robert had been as particu­larly excepted from the benefit of the De­claration as Hugh and some others were, from the Act of Oblivion. And my business, Dr. at present is only to acquaint you, that though Poetica Licentia jingles very prettily with Liberty of Conscience, yet that Poetiea is never Latin for Conscience, nor Licentia for any such ill manners as you at large shew, both in your Letter and Poem. And that I may in your own stile convey my meaning the easier into your belly, I am to tell you, that when you went about to confound the one with the other, you were as absolute­ly mistaken, as he that took a glister pipe for a flageolet, or the intestinum rectum for the great artery.

And in the first place I observe, that [Page 3] before you signifie your receiving the news of the Declaration, you would fain delude the friend you write to, into a fit of laughter; by the mere dull jest of tel­ling him that you are a merry fellow. For when you go about to tickle him up to a belief of it, with such deadly old and small provocations as of hanging your harp upon the Willows and singing lachrymae, in stead of the songs of Sion; of laughing at a fea­ther, especially, O especially if it be upon a fools cap; of being as merry as the old sect of Crickets, though after a baking, yea ve­rily though after a baking; or as the chim­ney men themselves, who are a new sect of Crickets, at some certain times of the year; nay, though for the better disguise you split an ancient abuse, and call the Bishop of Bristol, Cock in one line, and comb in another; yet I durst boldly say that if your friend has but the least share of wit, or a­ny sense of conscience, he can no more laugh at such overworn and tatter'd stuff, than if he should find his house all in flames, and his Wife and Children hung up in seni­ority.

[Page 4] And as thou settest forth with such a nig­gardliness of wit, that it is great impu­dence in thee to presume, that the most easy of thy Non-conforming friends should smile at it: so thou as saucily proceedest, com­paring the grave and solemn Musick of our Church, to a whistle, bagpipe and jews­trump. Which, if thou hadst done with wit answerable to its insolence, much time and long repentance might perhaps have brought thee off: but to say that the whi­stling of a bodies-maker is every whit as good and elevating as a Salisbury Anthem, and that a bag-pipe does far excel the Organ at Hackney, and to give no better reason but only that thy sowses are not made of silk, is so very rude and unpardo­nable, that seeing thou wert not excepted, thou dost now deserve to be excommu­nicated out of the Toleration it self. For let us a little consider, Doctor; is there not an Organ in the Kings Chappel, as well as at Hackney? and are not Anthems sung there, as well as at Salisbury? and has not his Majesty told thee in his Declaration, that [Page 5] 'tis his express resolution and intention that the Church of England be preserv'd in its Do­ctrine, Discipline and Government: and whoever preaches seditiously or to the dero­gation thereof, must expect severely to be punished? Suppose such a thing as this should be objected to thee: I am confi­dent thou hast nothing in the world to say, but only what thou would'st have impos▪d upon thy friend in the begin­ning, viz. That Robin is a merry fellow, an absolute Cricket, a meer wagg, a droole and a most accurate splitter of a prelatical Cox­comb. But, thou that pretendest to daunce on the high rope, to soar aloft, and clip Clouds, thou must not cheat thy self and think that such crawling bumours as these will excuse thy rudeness. For although his Majesty of tenderness and compassion to such weakly subjects as thy self, has grati­ously condescended, that answerably to your stile and matter, you should be indulged either the liberty of a pair of tongs, to play you to perch upon a Plum-tree, and from thence to distribute; or to be squeak'd up [Page 6] the Hay-lost with a comb and paper, and there to float and spread it over a beame; yet I suppose he never did design to give o­ver the Musicians of his Chappel, either to Dutch or Devil, in compliance with thy e­legant advice from the two D's, nor to send for thy blind Piper, jews-trumper or neigh­bouring bodies-maker, to whistle up his Bi­shops and Chaplains when they preach be­fore him: upon my word, Dr. Robert Wild, if one of you three will but read o­ver the Declaration, you will find you are all most vilely mistaken.

The small feather'd and cricket-like pre­face being thus finished, and the Doctor ha­ving made therewith no creature in the world merry, besides himself: it is high time for him now to leave the frying pan, and the four herrings, and to attend the Post-boy, who blew his Horn and Toleration. But why in such hast, good Doctor? what, listen to a Horn before the orthodox exer­cise of eating and drinking? especially at an hour when the maw stretches and yawns, and makes humble request for vi­ctuals? [Page 7] how, so cruel as to forsake four pensive disconsolate herrings; when your own conscience flew on your face, and told you that they had lately been in very great distress, and in as sad a pickle as the Dutch Fleet the week before? How so careless of your family, as to give over your wife and maid to the cruelty of four hissing sputter­ing outragious Herrings? Suppose one of the stoutest and discontented of them had made a violent digression out of the frying pan, and struck up you maids heels, and in your absence had swallowed your wife, head, shoulders and all. (As the great Pike at Bosco, that on a sudden ran away from the Pound and his Keepers, and in a trice devoured a whole flock of Sheep.) Suppose, I say, any such calamity had hap­pen'd in the family by your neglect: would it not have prick'd you sorely to have left the house in such tumult and disorder? I, I, you, you are the men that have got the Conscience of the whole Nation: that pretend to such curiosity and neatness of Conscience, and yet make nothing to leave [Page 8] a poor helpless wife and but one maid to the fury and insolence of four dissatisfied and devouring Herrings: and only upon that quibling pretence, forsooth, that you had other fish to fry. Come come, Doctor, deceive not your self with such loose prin­ciples. You may pretend to as much ten­derness of Conscience as you will; but I am afraid that if you had had four Cormorants, or four Eagles for dinner, the case would have been the same; for you would either have had other Birds to look after, or other Fish to fry, or some such Conscience-palliating excuse.

But I shall leave you to consider of this unanswerable neglect at your Leisure: and we'll go on, if you please, to the very De­claration it self. But before we read it, that our joy may be gradual and solemn; and that not the least expression of thanks and mirth may be wanting to so great an oc­casion, let us droll, flash, and be a little phansiful upon the very paper it self: which being clipt for the better lying in the Letter, affords four absolute new merry conceits. [Page 9] First, the Declaration thus shorn is like a Round-head: the reason of that is plain be­cause of Aquarius. Secondly, 'tis like an Am­sterdam Divine: that also is as plain because of Sagittarius. Thirdly, 'tis like an officiating Friar; upon the accompt of the Bulls right Eye. Fourthly, 'tis unlike clipping of money; upon some other accompt.

Having thus bedabbld the outside of the Declaration with four such dewy delicate phansies: now, Dr, we'll set on, and fall to reading. But not rudely and unsancti­fyedly, but with that short ejaculation of S. Paul, S. George for England. Or as one of the Latins renders it, Cynthius aurem vellit, Ephesians the 5th and the 4th And the Grace being ended, we venture now upon the Title of the Book. His Majesties De­claration to all his Loving Subjects, March 15. 1671/2. ‘What, to all his Loving Sub­jects? this is joy indeed! However I am sure his Majesty means me in a most speci­al manner: for I have a soul as white and spotless towards the King, as any Lawn in England; and I do and will love the King [Page 10] with any Church-man of them all, for a thousand pounds. A Prelatical man love the King! that's a frolick indeed. Where's any one of them that in obedience to the Act of Ʋniformity, presently laid down a plump Parsonage, as I did, and suffered e­ver since for his Majesty. And (if I may be so bold) how came his Majesty, I pray, in­to England? who was it that invited him hither, and settl'd him in his Throne? did not George and I do all that business? He and his forces undertaking for the prose part of his restauration: and I, with my Muses, undertaking for the Poetick?’ I tell thee, Doctor, thou swaggerest much, what a loyal, white, spotless, lawn-soul thou hast towards his Majesty: but he that shall tor­ture himself so much as to look over thy late letter and poem, will presently perceive so much of courseness, greasiness and nastiness, that he'l think thy soul much more like that same Prebyterian horse-cloth, thou speakest of, than any Lawn or Tiffany.

The Title being thus dispatch'd, and the clemency of his Majesty being justly compa­red [Page 11] to that of Cyrus to the Jews, or Constan­tine to the oppressed Christians, or as the welcome Dove to the water-beaten Ark: (as if the Doctor and two or three of his Crickets were the only people of God, and had bespoaken all Christianity, and taken up every inch of the Ark:) we go next to the date of the Declaration; which happening to be upon the fifteenth of March, ought to be most solemnly commemorated; partly by way of panegyrick, and partly by way of wonderment. In panegyrick thus: ‘O thou fifteenth of March! be thou and the four salt herrings for ever Chronicled and extolled. It is a thousand pitties that thou art already engaged to be the fifteenth of March; for if thou hadst thy right and due, thou dost as certainly deserve to be the first day of January, as a quart of milk is worth a penny. It is my request and wish that thou be acquainted with the twenty ninth of May: and seeing thou art decreed to be the fifteenth of March, be thou however kind to the fifth of Novem­ber: for five and ten make fifteen. But [Page 12] as for the twenty fourth of August and the thirtieth of January, hold no correspon­dence with them; for upon the one I lost my living; and upon the other the King his head:’ which by all the people of God, good Christians and Ark-holders ought to be utterly forgotten. Now for Wonderment. ‘How! what, the fifteenth of March bring forth such news as this? can mercy, truth and peace, long preaching and praying be restored again in March? can such hea­venly and elevating musick as bagpipes and whistles and jews-trumps be brought home to an unsetled Nation in the month of March? can such a big-bellied, Dutch-bel­lied, blundering, blunderbuz month as March, that feeds wholly upon white pease pottage and dumplings▪ afford any such bles­sing to the Israel of God? Gray pease in­deed have somewhat of fatherliness, cle­mency and compassion for a distressed Church and a persecuted people: but white pease, back'd with perverse, obstinate, and hard hearted dumplings—surely it can­not be!’ nor ever would have been, had it [Page 13] not (as the Doctor well observes) so hand­somely jumped with the Jewish feast of Pu­rim on their fourteenth and fifteenth of March.

The date of the Declaration being thus sufficiently wondered at: in the next place we proceed to the great benefits and advantages of this Liberty of Conscience: which are of such a kind, that neither King nor Council could possibly ever ghess at, or hope for. For whereas his Majesty expects nothing else, but that silly stubborn people may hereby perceive their folly and error, and in time be reduced to a sober mind, and the Church of England: the Doctor holds forth, and declares that this same Tolerati­on (if rightly understood) notwithstanding it came out in the blustering Month of March, will have such a vast influence and power over Holland, that all the fish now at Amsterdam (excepting the small fry) will forth with skip out of the water, and run all away to London: and that now, upon Liber­ty of Conscience, 'twill be as common a thing to meet with Carp, Pike, Tench, and Eel [Page 14] walking about the streets, as in the days of Ʋniformity to meet with a Dog or a Porter. But because this looks like too great an al­teration on a sudden; therefore it is to be noted that by Carp we mean soft and smooth­mouth'd Presbyterians: by Pike, bouncing and devouring Prelatists and Pluralists: and by Tench and Eel, muddy and slimy Opinion­ists: and well we may: both because of the feast of Purim, and that the Evening and the Morning were the fifth day.

And now we are talking of Ponds and Rivers, of Prelates, Presbyterians, Opinion­ists and Fish: and there being a certain River here in England call'd Trent, affording on­ly a small quibble (as small as the remaining fry at Amsterdam) it may be not amiss to ob­serve, that of all waters the Papists delight most in Trent. For take a Papist and tye him head and heels together, and fling him with a good lusty stone about his neck into the Thames or any other River, besides Trent; and he presently sinks to the bottom, lies sullenly there, and will not feed nor fat­ten himself at all. But stroak him softly [Page 15] upon the back, and put him gently into the River Trent, and he's as brisk and frolick as a mouse in June, and in a very short time proves as fat as a Lamprey with nine eyes. For, as the Doctor well observes, a Papist is nothing else but a Lamprey with nine eyes. For as Rome standing upon seven hills was called Septicollis: so the Papists have just nine eyes, neither more nor less, and may be thence called Lampreys.

Thus far, Dr, you are very aery, smooth and delightful; but, in my opinion, towards the latter end of this Section, you are a little too deep and somewhat reserv'd. Where you leave frying of Fish, and fall to telling the Pope, what a great loss he had (upon the Reformation) of the English Shambles, of the English Muttons and English Veals: and of the lusty chines of noble Fornicators, which he us'd to torture, as severely, as when they fell into the cruel clutches of King Lues or Morbus Gallicus. Now, Dr, that which I am horribly puzl'd at, is this same King Lues. For searching very carefully my French History, I can hear no more news of [Page 16] any King Lues, than of King Scorbutus, or King Catarrhus. If you had committed these same Fornicationers into the clutches of King Pharamond, King Dagobert, or King Pippin; I had almost understood you: for, I know, that any of those would have claw'd the rogues away: especially King Pippin, for a certain reason that I know: which I shall not now stand to tell you, but instead there­of tell you a short story out of one of your own Classical Authors.

There was a man in the West, who being to be tryed for his life, was asked by the Recorder his name; who answered Spillman. Say you so, quoth the Recorder, Spillman? 'twill go hard with you, upon my word, friend: for take away S. P. and what's your name then, Sirrah? E'en what your Worship please, quoth Spillman. Come, come, Sirrah, you are an old cunning Rogue: you have been of the trade, ever since you were born, and you know it well enough: for take away S. P. and 'tis Illman: and then Sirrrah, Sirrah, put but K to it, and 'tis Killman. Take him away Jaylotn, we need [Page 17] no witnesses in the case: he's a born Rogue, for his name has hang'd him.

'Tis good thus far; but what follows is much better and as Classical. A while after there came one to be tryed before the Maior, who having learn'd of the Recorder, how to hang in his absence, asked the fellow his name; who answered Wilson. How now, Sirrah! Wilson? take away S. P. and then 'tis Illman, and put K to't and then 'tis Kill­man, away with him Jaylour.

And let thus much serve for King Lues. Now we go to the Minister of the Doctor's Parish: upon whom he has two admirable remarks. First, his Parishioners don't grunt at him. And why? because he takes no Tythe-pigs. Secondly, his Church is constant­ly very full of Ears, because his barn has none. Admirably good indeed! have a care Dr. of going into the West, for if the Maior meet you, he'll take away S. P. for your wit sake. This is Robin the Cricket! this is the fruits of Milk Pottage, crumm'd thick, and eat hot! oh how it flushes the cheeks, and makes the phansie to glow again! Surely the young [Page 18] Scholar that put that handsom abuse upon Mr. Eaton, had got a flush from some such inspiring Soupe: for he being at Mr. Eaton's house, where there was a Goose for dinner, Mr. Eaton asked him if he would not eat some goose. The young Scholar being a little flush'd, laid upon catch, till all was eaten and took away; then says he, I thank you for my good chear, good Mr. Eaton, for I perceive the goose is Eaten. This, Dr, as I well remember, happen'd in the reign of your King Lues, or immediately after.

And now Dr, I have very little more to say to your Letter; only I cannot but a lit­le delight my self to see what great pains you take to excuse your self to your grave friend for being so merry and witty. Where­as I'll undertake to fetch an ordinary Wa­terman, and the Rogue shall not be assisted at all with any extraordinary flush; who (set­ting aside your Lachrymae, adusum Sarum, and two or three such Latin smallnesses) shall void as many passing and lusty jests be­tween Temple-stairs and Westminster as are to be found in your whole Letter: and I'll [Page 19] not so much as except the Herrings tail hanging out of your wifes mouth. Neither, Dr, must you hope to be pardon'd for over­charging such a very small measure of wit, with such a vast proportion of rudeness and arrogance; by saying that you were infected by reading a late Dialogue against Mr. Hobbs. For what if a young conceited coxcomb shall be so pert and confident as to try to invent any thing against Mr. Hobbs after so many grave and learned confutations of him: or be so idle and pragmatical as to crack a few lice upon his head, make a few trivial jests about his staff, & most philosophically confute his Boots: can't you see such a Jackanapes on horse-back, but presently you must call for a pillion and get up behind him; or ra­ther take a fresh Hobby-horse (that now is a kind of a King Lues or a Robinism) and ride his Jackanapeship quite out of sight? Truly, Dr, although all the world (as you say) is so very big with jest, yet this won't at all serve your turn, neither must you e­ver expect to see your intolerable dullness excus'd, by saying that we Nonconformists [Page 20] don't go to plays, and therefore we can't match their cocks. For there is a very worthy per­son that frequents Plays no more than thy self; whose Friendly Debates thou takest thy common rudeness to compare to the sputtering of Fish, or the scolding at Billings­gate: whereas 'tis known to all the world, that the same learned Author has given more proof of sence and wit in any six lines of his writings, than thy punning abilities will e­ver give thee lieve so much as to understand thy whole life.

And so farwell, Doctor, as to thy prose. Now for Poetica Licentia! now for liberty of Conscience in Rhime! now stand by gout and sence, wit and good manners: and let the Doctor and his Muse Mopsa have a brush at pro and con. Now stretch forth thy self my dear one, and be thou transported above all the pedantick Laws of Poetry and Modesty. Don't sneak now, and like a Conformist, ut­ter things that are mean and despicable: but speak fire and lightning, fury and raptures, and let the first mount be within a spit and a [Page 21] stride of the Moon. Thou knowest, my Girl, that thou hast been clip'd and shortned; thou hast been in bonds and fetters, since that accurs'd twenty fourth of August. But the fifteenth of March is now come, my pret­ty witty slut: Liberty of Conscience is now come: Poetica Licentia is come: and the joy is great, the King is great, and the Bible (by Grandsire Hierarchy's leave) is now a­gain great. And therefore pluck out the half herring out of thy mouth forthwith, and call together all the flowers and phansies, puns, and quibbles, and clinches in to thy assistance.

Truly, Dr, this cup of his Majesties favour is so strong and heady that I can't at present find my feet; and to go about to make Verses without feet, is next unto going to Foot-ball with ones Shoulders.

Away, away, with such Ʋniformity-excuses: for seeing there's Liberty of Con­science, if thou hast no Feet, then fly, my Girl, I say fly into some loftiness and mighti­ness of Gratulation.

That's most admirably said my dainty Mouze, let King Lues with all his Corneilles, Scuderys, and the rest of his morbify'd wits produce such a distich: 'tis short, clean and smart. Bonefires and Incendiaries; Powder and Peace; Treason and Glory. Amen. And now, my fine Wench, for one strain more: let it be seasonable and brisk and gripe the Church men for their tooting Organs and ting­tang Preaching.

I pray, Dr, now let me say a word or two to your Muse: and you shall come in again by and by. Have the Conformists taken up all the Musick and Fidles, my Dear? I am sorry that thou shouldst be so disappointed: for if thou hadst sent to me, I could have furnish'd thee with great variety: either with grave slow-pac'd Nonconforming Pa­vins, concerning flowing-gushing-full with self-emptiness: or with Sarabrand of glittering [Page 23] and glaring glories: or with querpo-friscade, jigs of jests and jingles. And indeed, Muse, thou oughtest to take it very ill, that the Doctor himself was so unkind as not to offer thee out of his own rich treasure. For he could have shownthee a certain Letter, which he writ upon the great fright and confusion that his Books were in, upon the receiving of Dr. Reynold's Works into his study: where in my opinion he doesfar out-fiddle the very fa­mous Sweed himself. For Justin Martyr, he fear­ed he should again be a Martyr; Tertullian be­gan to make Apologies, S. Aust in Retractations; and poor devout Bede got into a corner and fell to his Beeds. Jee Bald! Then for the School-men, they all look'd like School-boys: the Fathers having before look'd all like Children. And Aquinas himself wish'd with all his heart he had not had such Sums to reckon for; and Dr. Preston's All-sufficiency pleaded Insufficiency. And which I had like to have forgotten, Cambden's Britannia ran quite a­way into the further parts of Germany, and was never heard of to this very day. And I don't at all question, but that let the Doctor [Page 24] have but his common flush; and his hand is e­very whit as good at a Sermon, as 'tis at a Let­ter. And now, I prethee go on, Muse; for I perceive by thy lip that thou hast one strain of Gratulation still left.

Now, Dr; I desire to speak one word or so to your self: beseeching you out of all love, that you would take off, and tye up your Muse; for most certainly, if she goes on thus, I shall either bepiss my self or go to the Groom of the Robe: for she slags so horribly and grows so deadly dull and ja­dish, that she is e'en forc'd to steal from our own self. For with Bells and Changes, with Ringing and Clappers, with Seeeples and [Page 25] Ropes you brought in his Majesty in your Iter Boreale. And now with the very same instru­ments you congratulate the Toleration. And besides all this, about 40 years agon, (as you may find it in a most faithful Historian) there was one John Hall who, being both a Cap-maker and a Sexton, died and lived a­gain with just the very same sort of phansie. He died thus.

And being cruelly mad, that he should be so bespatter'd after his death; he starts up a­gain, after this manner.

But if after all this, your Muse has any [Page 26] thing new, I pray speak to her, and let's have it.

What dost think, Muse, of his Ma­jesties Declaration being a Trojane Mare with soal of Popery? Thou knowest 'tis but a lit­tle way from Rome to Troy; and if the Pope should break pasture—Besides, t'other day, I over-heard the Gridiron most horribly grumbling at the Frying-pan.

This Muse of mine is both the most waggish, and most argumentative Stit, that I ever met withall in my whole life. Six such keen and compacted lines as these, shall most effectually keep out the Pope; when he shall make nothing to lean over a thousand dull [Page 27] pages of your learned Chillingsworths, grave Stilling fleets, and Tillotsons. For most plain it is, and most demonstrative, that so long as the Pope continues to be a Camel, he can never with his Supremacy-bunch get into the low and narrow gate of Reformation. In like manner so long as we keep to our Bibles, and neglect not to paint Popes faces; plen­tifully and largely upon our bearded juggs; the Pope will be hang'd a thousand times o­ver, before ever he'll come hither, to see him­self so apparently vilified and affronted. Nay, if he were just now about landing, and any body were but there in readiness to hoise up against him, one of the best sort of these bearded juggs; he would presently turn tail, and run roaring home to Rome, as if you had a design to get away his Maidenhead. And in the last place, so long as we be careful to keep Ale or Wine in the Kingdom; and have spirit and valour enough to send for a vast pitcher, and say thereunto, oh thou Dragon, Bell or Bellarmine, be thou for ever confounded and as utterly run down, as this drink runs down my throat, so long I [Page 28] say as this care be taken, it will be impossible for any of the Defenders of the Church of Rome, ever to spread their Doctrine in this nation.

And therefore as to this, my Muse, thou art certainly in the right. But what dost think of their Images and Musick; of their Pixes and Fixes, and such fine tempting things.

Most Divine and Politick! O La­chrymae, O Miserere! O the dullness and stupidity of Prelates and Church-men, that should go about to suspect the increase of Popery, and not study to understand the con­cern and intrigue of Popes-head Alley! Ye Brethren and Sisters, and all that have Bi­bles: keep but the Roman Noses to the grind­stone of your Bibles, and examine your own Consciences, and the History and traffique of Popes-head Alley, and if ever Clement or any [Page 29] other Pope get footing in England, I'll give him, and all his successors leave to kiss—

But dost hear me once more, my girl; there are some parlous acute men among them; and without doubt they'l now take all occa­rion to write.

A most easie and compendious way of withstanding, confuting and suppressing Popery! For the Pope himself, he's to be fa­ced down: Bellarmine to be drunk down: and Cressy to be wip'd down. And therefore [Page 30] I say once again, (and I wish it would en­ter into the hearts of all cowardly and jea­lous Church-men) that if his Majesty will be pleased not to confine me to set forms and fashions, but still to allow me the free me of my whole Bible; and that Costive Saturn does not seise upon my fundament, and bung up those hindmost faculties, if ever Popery get one inch further into England, let not Officious Robin ever go to stool again.

But now, Dr, if I were sure that thy Muse had wip'd her tail, and that she would not bedung me; I would venture to come a little closer to thee, and ask thee. Dost thou think when his Majesty was pleased to suspend the execution of penal laws upon such offenders as thy self, that he did then indulge such simplicity, such rudeness and slovenliness as thine? dost think that he in­tended therein to encourage such boyish, barbers, high-way jests as Bonfires and In­cendiaries, Musick and Fidlers, bells and ropes; as cups of Roman wormwood, Tro­jane Mares, Pope-fac'd juggs, Popes-head Alley and the like? such nasty, Kitching, [Page 31] Kennel phansies as Clements Podex, Purga­tory hole, Aspersions from Rome behind, and Groom of the close stool? I prethee, Robin, by what figure, or (to speak in thy own stile) by what Constellation, didst thou take out an O that should have been in the Rome behind, and two lines after, put it into the close stool? didst thou do it by Aquarius or Sagittarius? It is pitty that besides the Groom of the Robe or Stole, that there were not such a preferment, as little children think there is, that thy Muse Mopsa might have the Ell of Holland to make clean her nasty mouth. But to go on, Doctor; suppose thy Doctorship had so much childishness, as to think it witty, to call the Papists Hobgob­lings, Hobby-horses, Huntingdon Sturgeons, &c. and to tell the world they need not be afraid of Popery; for there being a Capitol at Rome, the Papists are but meer gagling Ganders: and if some of them by great study should improve themselves into Geese, yet those Geese could never prove Swans: I say, suppose thy Doctorship was thus weak; what hadst thou done with thy Bi­ble [Page 32] and Divinity, when thou sendest them to wrestle a fall with Tiburn, for the price of thy cow (which phanfie, I know as well as can be, thou hadst from the fellow that dwells at the corner of Hide-Park) and when thou wishest them beside, all head-long orucifyed? Nay, I'll suppose further, that this also was only trickish and frolick some: but then I would earnestly know, Dr, where was thy good manners and modesty; where was the loyalty, whiteness, and lawness of thy soul, when thou commendest also the Bishops and Reverend Clergy of his Majesties Church to the Gallows: (for he is no Fana­tick, nor ever intends to be one, as he tells thee in his Declaration) when thou callest our Curates Loggerheads, and the generality of our Priests, Fidlers, Jackdaws, Sots and Judas's: when thou tellest them that they wet themselves too much between meals, to fear any Smithfield persecution; and that they are good for nothing but to drink up the Wine and the Milk; and to take the beast of Rome by the Tail: (is this a frolick too?) but, that it is you, and such as you, that live [Page 33] wholly upon Scripture, and Rock water ten times distill'd, who are to feed and watch, to dig & preach, and to assail Antichrist, & take him by the Horns. Yes, yes, we may ghess, Dr, what an Assailant thou art likely to be, and what a dreadful Horn-taker! it is five to one, if thou shouldst meet that same beast in a narrow lane▪ but that thou wouldst ei­ther untruss at him, or bid King Lues and the Devil take him, or else threaten to speak to thy Bodies-maker, to whistle for Sagitta­rius to come away and shoot him; as he late­ly did Durham and Glocester. A most sad cause indeed, Dr! that wit should be so ex­traordinary low with thee, that thou shouldst be able to devise nothing else to reproach the best Church in the world, than to abuse a couple of its Learned and Reve­rend Prelates for that common absurdity of dying at fourscore years of age.

I might, Doctor, had I patience, take notice also that as thy scurrility it self is so weak and languid, that a very Cock-sparrow if offended would bristle up and defy thee: so thy Encomiums and good words are so a­bominably [Page 34] mean and tedious, that one had better live ten fathom under ground, than be known, and so vilely quibbl'd on. Thus after a most doggrel prayer for the Duke of Lauderdale's good journey into Scotland (which, had he gone by Sea, was almost doggrel enough to have cast him away) O thou dost not question but the Scots will find his Grace, and his blew ribband, true blew. My Lord Clifford's soul is to be as white as his staff: The Chancelour of the Exchequer's word is to go for currant money: and the Duke of Buckingham is to keep the saddle, because of the Horse. Now I pro­fess, in my opinion, Doctor, it would al­most tempt a man, neither to have name, nor office, money nor clothes; neither to do well, nor intend well, rather than be obnoxious to such a lewd and ill-favour'd commender.

And now, Doctor, I have to desire of you, that you would not put your self to so much trouble, as to endeavour, to excuse the meanness of what you have lately written; either by saying that since the days of pro­sperous Presbytery you wanted a gloss of wine [Page 35] after Dinner, or that you were out of humour, or that your parts are much shatter'd with these ten last years persecution: but rather that you and your friends would submit to the common report and opinion; and believe that you never had any, nor possibly ever can have any wit at all; notwithstanding you have a whole book full of printed poems, and that there can scarce be a bull-baiting, but you be­gin presently to muster: I say (notwithstan­ding all this great readiness to rhime) before we parted, I thought fit plainly to acquaint you, that he that shall either look into the hi­story of your life (which is very near ready for the press) or into the History of your Poe­try, (which also will be shortly out) will ea­sily perceive that your wit is not at all wasted by gout, old age, tribulation for Conscience sake, or the like; but that you never had a­ny in your whole life, neither did any body ever think so, but such as ran the hazzard of printing your doggrels. And therefore I desire Doctor, you would consider that it is not a sufficient stock for a Poet, to set up only with the Latin names of the days of the week, and [Page 36] of 3 or 4 of the famous Nine: and to be able to call to one and say, here Melp, creep you into the shoe-hole and lye close there; till t'other Girl goes to Breda and fetch over the King: but there's good learning, good judge­ment, good converse, and good manners too requir'd; which, all the world know, you never took care of any further, than to be acquainted with the meer Titles of Books, and to make Tertullian to Apologize, Origen to Allegorize, Chrysosthom to Homilize, and the like. Nor ever hadst thou wit sufficient to venture into any company, for which thou mightest be the better: but only to get into some Farrier's or some soft yielding Gentle­man's house, and there to quibble over the birth or death of some child. And as for thy acquaintance with Cleaveland (of which thou art so very proud, that thou canst scarce meet a boy in the street, but thou runnest him up in a corner, and givest him the witty adven­tures of it) I understood his humour as well, as if I had held upon my knee the frying pan for him, or ran for mustard: and thereupon I know, that he never took thee abroad with [Page 37] him, for any archness or pleasantness that was to be had in thy company; but only, not certainly knowing how the Countrey might be provided for his purpose, he used to carry some game along with him, that he might be always sure of one to be abused. And upon that account it was, that he would per­mit thee sometimes to lye at his beds feet; that, if he should chance to wake before the Chamberlain came up, he might fall present­ly upon thee, and lose no time: and some­times he would suffer thee to ride behind him, upon the same Horse; not that he admired thee, as an ingenious Mistress, but only that thou mightest be in a constant readiness to be made ridiculous.

And as, by what I have now said, and by thy late Essay upon the Declaration, it is very plain that thou wantest the very first materials and fundamentals of being a Wit; so is it as plain from the whole History of thy Poetry, that thou didst always want them. For suppose one fhould be so overkind, as to suffer thee to pick out the very master-pieces of thy phansie: such as the Norfolk and [Page 38] Wisbich Cock fight: the Bottles of Sack and Cla­ret laid in sand and covered with a sheet: the Imprisonment of Mr. Calamy, and the famous Iter Boreale it self: I can easily tell, how these possibly might please some people, without having the least grain of wit in them. As for the Cock fighting; 'tis most tediously quibling about Peacocks, Weather­cocks, Woodcocks and fighting cocks; and besides to wards the latter end, most abo­minably baudy. As for that Poem upon the buried wine; I shall say no more but this: 'tis most villanously prophane from top to bot­tom, with expressions alluding to the Grave and Resurrection. I pray, Dr, do so much as look upon those verses at your leisure; and see if your tender, spotless, and mealy-mouth'd Nonconformity can sanctify such baudery and prophaness. As for the third, 'tis so ridiculous that I know nothing like it but the song of the Black-smith that common Fidlers use to sing. For there you shew that Mr. Calamy's being put into Prison by the Bishop of Lon­don was much more tolerable, than your be­ing imprison'd by Bishop Gout. For the Bishop [Page 39] of London put him only into Newgate, and that lately: but the lordly and proud Bishop Gout had put you twenty years ago, not into Newgate, or Ludgate, or Aldersgate, but into Cripplegate. Oh the unsufferable pride and lordliness of some tyrannical Prelates! Besides, this Bishop Gout makes your body his Diocess; and there he keeps Courts, and there he has a visitation for every Limb; and urges every Joint to conform, & those that will not, he articles against And when the Gout is in the hand, then my Lord Gout has you in hand, and when 'tis in your toes, he has you by the toes. And now, can you and your friends think this Wit? don't you fear every day that you rise, that his Ma­jesty should call in again his Mandate, and send for that same Doctorship he gave thee, and bestow it upon some honest merry Porter? And lastly, as for thy famous Iter Boreale it self: I know it was much bought up, and read by many. But don't gull your self, Dr; for it was not because there was any good humour, wit or Poetry in it; but because any thing upon that Subject would have been ad­mired, after such sad and dismal times. Nay, so it was that the very word King was a­mongst [Page 40] us so great a rarity, that he that could but get into a verse, God save the King, or the like, should be as much flock'd about, as if he were the Author of that famous distichupon the louvre.

And I must tell you besides, Dr, that though our Na­tion was wonderfully glad to hear of his Majesty be­ing restor'd; yet such as could receive such wellcome news, without losing their senses, did at that very time, look upon all that poem to be very sad, and lamenta­ble. So that the whole of the matter, Dr, is come to this: if you do stubbornly persist in the opinion of your having now, or ever having any wit at all; and that you do resolve to continue this vile trade of rhi­ming; then do it decently and becomingly: and lay aside your Doctorship, your Gown, your Profession and your looking gravely, and do you and your Bodies-maker set up under St. Andrews wall, and there practise upon your own works.

I should now, Dr▪ say a word or two to your friends of the Toleration: but I suppose it would be needless, because by what I have already said to your self, they'l fully comprehend your worth, and perceive howmuch they undervalue and disparage themselves, by continuing any further acquaintancewith you. And I hope they'l nowsee 'tis high time, not only to banish from their houses▪ and▪ company, such a baudy, profane, nasty and witless scribler, but not suffer thee ever to say so much again, as We Nonconformists. And, if any of them have a longing desire to see the little gridiron of England, and the huge frying pan of Rome utterly thrown down, I hope also that they'l think it their concern and interest, not to trust to such a Ballad-maker as thy self, to take the Beast by the Horns. Faremell.