ROGER the Canterburian is a Man made up of a Soule and a Body like Ananias the Puritan, only he worships God with both. Hee has learn't out of the Bible to make a Leg to the Authority of Church and State, and do's the same to Heaven the ordainer and dispenser of that Au­thority. Hee ha's read the whole Story of Christian Re­ligion from Christ-Crosse to & per se and: and yet cannot finde Ananias the Puritan neither in A. nor B. nor C. [Page 2] nor any Age of the Christ-cross-row, but quite beside it: The Poxe and the Plague ha's frighted him out of Ox­ford; and Mr. PYM out of his Leg-Religion, and almost his Witt. Notwithstanding his distractions, hee has so much wit yet left, that Ananias could not see his Grac [...] through it.

The Apprentices give him a broad side as hee walkes the Streets by crying no Bishops, No Bishops; and never leave till he cries▪ No Bishops too: for which when hee is safe in hous'd, he repents crosses and blesses himselfe, and curses them as things never Christened, or never Bishop't.

To make him cry▪ No Bishops, he sayes is to boile a Kid in the Mothers milke against the Law of GOD and Nature. When he is abroad, he dares not speake sense aloud, for feare hee should be knockt o'th' head for't; but hum's and haa's in God morrow, and God eeven, and what a Clock is't. His feare leads his judgement by the nose, as Religion leads Ananias. All the Sciences he has skill in but the Arithmetick of Sects; which ignorance the Bishops he hopes will curse▪ when they become A­rithmetick-Lecturers. His greatest feare next the loss of one of his Parsonages, is that the City Gentle-women will put Gussets and Goures into the Canonicall Prayer, to make it as much too wide for his Faith, as his Me­mory. He is so extreamly given to short Prayers, as if hee were sure the Kingdome of Heaven might bee sur­priz'd and taken with a Squib: and his Wife thinks him short in all, as he is in his Orisons; and so (though shee seeme Religious in his way) Cuckolds her Beads and Him. Hee dares take it upon his death that there ha's not beene a Sermon preach't since Eighty eight that ha's [Page 3] had any Theologie or Religion in it, but by Doctor An­drewes and the learned Pupils, after the Order of Saint William of Canterbury all Catechismes, but that of the Church he counts Libels against Heaven, and esteemes them as the People do Articles of PYM. When a zealous Woman goes to St. Antholines with her Bible under her arme, he sayes she looks like a Goose with the Gysard trnst under her Wing. It grieves him to heare every Cox­comb crow new Divinitie able to startle the Lion of the Tribe of Judah. A Priest after the Order of my Lord Major hee never lik't till now that the Brownists have created him Papist. It astonishes him to think that his censurer Ananias should esteeme the bread after his Consecration no better then that which baits a Mouse­trap. When he enters a Church, especially where there is an Altar and Organs, hee mutters to himselfe that of Jacob; How dreadfull is this Place! this is the House of God, and the very gate of heaven; and wonders why he should be contemn'd for a Formalist▪ because he shewes but so much reverentiall feare as a Turke entring a Moschit. If the expression of such a religious feare in Gods House be not commanded and established, he thinks that Re­ligion and himselfe shall not be beholding to the Synod for a courtesie Six-penny broad. Except hee and many more of his Order be elected Synoders, hee resolves to esteeme their Determination no more then the Appren­tices doe Proclamations. He smells like a piece of Russian Leather of Arminius; and for that is suspected of Popery, although he lie Perdu upon his owne Wife to catch the Roman Priest in an error of superstitious Chastiry▪ He wishes that wee may at length stutt into some Religion that he may eat Tyth-Pigg in peace. But one thing he [Page 4] desires above all; That the Christian Sacrifice, as the Iewish alwayes was, may be season'd with Salt, the Sym­bole of judgement and wit; and not with Puritan long-Pepper talke. Rosemary and Bayes hee abhorres more then Bel and the Dragon, and will have none of it in his House this Christmas because it was prophan'd in the triumph of those holy Martyrs Burton, Prinne and Bast­wick, which hee accounts the Schismaticall Sectaries of Martin Mar-Prelate. He thinks it impossible that a man should give a better Character of this Age, and the Re­ligion of vs Zealots, then that Church-warden ha's al­ready done, who tooke downe the Picture of Jesus, and let the Asse upon which he rode stand still in the Church. Besides all this he ha's another scurvy fault; he delibe­rates what and how he should speake to God Almighty in his Prayers, because hee knowes not why delibera­tion which is the counsell of Reason should be shuffled out of Gods Service onely, and be received and prais'd in all things else. The Scotch businesse lies still upon his stomack like a Sow-baby upon the stomack of a Scot; and Doctor Bastwick can see no reason why that should make him so sick. Might hee have had his will the Scots should have had 3000000. Pounds bestowed upon them to have sent them home sooner: but now he thinks it were bet­ter bestowed upon the building of Pauls; such is the su­perstition of the Man. He is not a man of many Graces; those hee uses before and after Meat are stollen out of the Primmer. The eyes of all things is his Grace before meat: and after it, from the same Book an old devout Rhime.

[Page 5] This Grace is set to a whistle which his Wife ha's for that purpose in the Heft of her Knife, that it may be like the Man Liturgick and Cathedrall. He is so very much addicted to set Forms of Prayer, that in a sodain and dan­gerous Fire, hee ha's nothing to say to God Almighty, but that Collect of our Church that calls for Raine in the time of fiery drought. He is a Creature of doubtfull interpretation; no man knowes well what he is: Thus much more I think I may say of him. If there bee an in­surrection of Papists, you shall meet him with two leaves of Thomas Aquinas, set Crosse in his Hat, because he re­solves never to have his throat cut for a Puritan. His pride ha's swolne him too bigg for the Church of En­gland, and now he must die like an Hydroptick Man. No­thing but a Cardinals Cap could keepe his Wit and Lear­ning warme: but God ha's punish't the pride of that wit with a plaine Northerne Blew-Cap. Hee is so cleerly re­solv'd that the Clergie ought to be preferr'd to the bra­vest heighths, that his Spirit will not give him leave to say Grace for his Meat with a low-crown'd Hat before his Face; because it is not Gloria in exelsis, glory to God in the highest. Most of his Discourse is about that old Devotion which richly endowed the Church, and en­abled the Clergie to tip their Staves with vnvallued Unicornes horne. You shall heare him tell you with a great deale of affection out of the Historian Boisardus; That the French Clergie possesses 8000. Lordships, in which they have the chiefe Power of exercising Politi­call Justice; and besides those 240000. Country Villa­ges; That they possesse 7000. Acres of Vineard, besides the Tythes which they receive from other Vineyards; That to them are belonging 125000 Fishponds; of Med­dow [Page 6] ground 90000. Acres. Out of the same Author he can shew you an Account of Annuall Provision of [...]t for Ecclesiastick Men.

Of pure Wheat 4. Millions 500000. Measures; every such Measures containing 600. Pounds.

Of Oates, 900000. Of Barley, 800000. Of Pease, 860000. Of fat Capons, 180000. Of Hens, 560000. Of Partridges, 600000. Of fat Oxen, 12500. Of fat Wea­thers 12000. Of Eggs, 7. Millions.

And to be short, such like proportions in other ne­cessaries for a temperate Priestly life. Moreover, out of Boterus, he can tell you; That in Saxonie there are cer­taine Bishops▪ of which every one ha's his Iurisdiction, his Townes and Subjects as Princes have.

Certainly he would be a brave fellow if he could but retrive the Old Religion with it's Circumstances. Yet for all this he hopes to see the Gentlewomen of London come to Auricular Confession; which if they doe, he will lie with some of them for pure spight; except foure or five Acts of Parliament button up his Codpiece. He ha's a kind of humorous Charity towards the Scot still left in him, which he thus bestowes.