The next to these are another sort of brainsick fools, who style

themselves monks and of religious orders, though they assume both titles

very unjustly: for as to the last, they have very little religion in

them; and as to the former, the etymology of the word monk implies a

solitariness, or being alone; whereas they are so thick abroad that

we cannot pass any street or alley without meeting them. Now I cannot

imagine what one degree of men would be more hopelessly wretched, if

I did not stand their friend, and buoy them up in that lake of misery,

which by the engagements of a holy vow they have voluntarily immerged

themselves in. But when these sort of men are so unwelcome to others, as

that the very sight of them is thought ominous, I yet make them highly

in love with themselves, and fond admirers of their own happiness. The

first step whereunto they esteem a profound ignorance, thinking carnal

knowledge a great enemy to their spiritual welfare, and seem confident

of becoming greater proficients in divine mysteries the less they are

poisoned with any human learning. They imagine that they bear a sweet

consort with the heavenly choir, when they tone out their daily tally

of psalms, which they rehearse only by rote, without permitting their

understanding or affections to go along with their voice. Among these

some make a good profitable trade of beggary, going about from house to

house, not like the apostles, to break, but to beg, their bread; nay,

thrust into all public-houses, come aboard the passage-boats, get into

the travelling waggons, and omit no opportunity of time or place for the

craving people's charity; doing a great deal of injury to common highway

beggars by interloping in their traffic of alms. And when they are thus

voluntarily poor, destitute, not provided with two coats, nor with

any money in their purse, they have the impudence to pretend that they

imitate the first disciples, whom their master expressly sent out in

such an equipage. It is pretty to observe how they regulate all their

actions as it were by weight and measure to so exact a proportion, as if

the whole loss of their religion depended upon the omission of the least

punctilio. Thus they must be very critical in the precise number of

knots to the tying on of their sandals; what distinct colours their

respective habits, and what stuff made of; how broad and long their

girdles; how big, and in what fashion, their hoods; whether their bald

crowns be to a hair's-breadth of the right cut; how many hours they must

sleep, at what minute rise to prayers, &c. And these several customs are

altered according to the humours of different persons and places. While

they are sworn to the superstitious observance of these trifles, they do

not only despise all others, but are very inclinable to fall out among

themselves; for though they make profession of an apostolic charity,

yet they will pick a quarrel, and be implacably passionate for such poor

provocations, as the girting on a coat the wrong way, for the wearing of

clothes a little too darkish coloured, or any such nicety not worth the

speaking of.

[Illustration: 288]

Some are so obstinately superstitious that they will wear their upper

garment of some coarse dog's hair stuff, and that next their skin

as soft as silk: but others on the contrary will have linen frocks

outermost, and their shirts of wool, or hair. Some again will not touch

a piece of money, though they make no scruple of the sin of drunkenness,

and the lust of the flesh. All their several orders are mindful of

nothing more than of their being distinguished from each other by

their different customs and habits. They seem indeed not so careful of

becoming like Christ, and of being known to be his disciples, as the

being unlike to one another, and distinguishable for followers of their

several founders. A great part of their religion consists in their

title: some will be called cordeliers, and these subdivided into

capuchines, minors, minims, and mendicants; some again are styled

Benedictines, others of the order of St. Bernard, others of that of

St. Bridget; some are Augustin monks, some Willielmites, and others

Jacobists, as if the common name of Christian were too mean and vulgar.

Most of them place their greatest stress for salvation on a strict

conformity to their foppish ceremonies, and a belief of their legendary

traditions; wherein they fancy to have acquitted themselves with so much

of supererogation, that one heaven can never be a condign reward for

their meritorious life; little thinking that the Judge of all the earth

at the last day shall put them off, with a who hath required these

things at your hands; and call them to account only for the stewardship

of his legacy, which was the precept of love and charity. It will be

pretty to hear their pleas before the great tribunal: one will brag how

he mortified his carnal appetite by feeding only upon fish: another will

urge that he spent most of his time on earth in the divine exercise

of singing psalms: a third will tell how many days he fasted, and what

severe penance he imposed on himself for the bringing his body into

subjection: another shall produce in his own behalf as many ceremonies

as would load a fleet of merchant-men: a fifth shall plead that in

threescore years he never so much as touched a piece of money, except

he fingered it through a thick pair of gloves: a sixth, to testify his

former humility, shall bring along with him his sacred hood, so old and

nasty, that any seaman had rather stand bare headed on the deck, than

put it on to defend his ears in the sharpest storms: the next that comes

to answer for himself shall plead, that for fifty years together, he had

lived like a sponge upon the same place, and was content never to change

his homely habitation: another shall whisper softly, and tell the judge

he has lost his voice by a continual singing of holy hymns and anthems:

the next shall confess how he fell into a lethargy by a strict,

reserved, and sedentary life: and the last shall intimate that he has

forgot to speak, by having always kept silence, in obedience to the

injunction of taking heed lest he should have offended with his tongue.

But amidst all their fine excuses our Saviour shall interrupt them with

this answer, Woe unto you, scribes and pharisees, hypocrites, verily I

know you not; I left you but one precept, of loving one another, which

I do not hear any one plead he has faithfully discharged: I told you

plainly in my gospel, without any parable, that my father's kingdom was

prepared not for such as should lay claim to it by austerities, prayers,

or fastings, but for those who should render themselves worthy of it by

the exercise of faith, and the offices of charity: I cannot own such as

depend on their own merits without a reliance on my mercy: as many of

you therefore as trust to the broken reeds of your own deserts may even

go search out a new heaven, for you shall never enter into that, which

from the foundations of the world was prepared only for such as are true

of heart. When these monks and friars shall meet with such a shameful

repulse, and see that ploughmen and mechanics are admitted into that

kingdom, from which they themselves are shut out, how sneakingly will

they look, and how pitifully slink away? Yet till this last trial they

had more comfort of a future happiness, because more hopes of it than

any other men. And these persons are not only great in their own eyes,

but highly esteemed and respected by others, especially those of the

order of mendicants, whom none dare to offer any affront to, because

as confessors they are intrusted with all the secrets of particular

intrigues, which they are bound by oath not to discover; yet many times,

when they are almost drunk, they cannot keep their tongue so far within

their head, as not to be babbling out some hints, and shewing themselves

so full, that they are in pain to be delivered. If any person give them

the least provocation they will sure to be revenged of him, and in their

next public harangue give him such shrewd wipes and reflections, that

the whole congregation must needs take notice at whom they are levelled;

nor will they ever desist from this way of declaiming, till their mouth

be stopped with a bribe to hold their tongue. All their preaching is

mere stage-playing, and their delivery the very transports of ridicule

and drollery. Good Lord! how mimical are their gestures? What heights

and falls in their voice? What toning, what bawling, what singing, what

squeaking, what grimaces, making of mouths, apes' faces, and distorting

of their countenance; and this art of oratory as a choice mystery,

they convey down by tradition to one another. The manner of it I may

adventure thus farther to enlarge upon. First, in a kind of mockery

they implore the divine assistance, which they borrowed from the solemn

custom of the poets: then if their text suppose be of charity, they

shall take their exordium as far off as from a description of the river

Nile in Egypt; or if they are to discourse of the mystery of the Cross,

they shall begin with a story of Bell and the Dragon; or perchance if

their subject be of fasting, for an entrance to their sermon they shall

pass through the twelve signs of the zodiac; or lastly, if they are to

preach of faith, they shall address themselves in a long mathematical

account of the quadrature of the circle. I myself once heard a great

fool (a great scholar I would have said) undertaking in a laborious

discourse to explain the mystery of the Holy Trinity; in the unfolding

whereof, that he might shew his wit and reading, and together satisfy

itching ears, he proceeded in a new method, as by insisting on the

letters, syllables, and proposition, on the concord of noun and verb,

and that of noun substantive, and noun adjective; the auditors all

wondered, and some mumbled to themselves that hemistitch of Horace,

Why all this needless trash?

But at last he brought it thus far, that he could demonstrate the

whole Trinity to be represented by these first rudiments of grammar,

as clearly and plainly as it was possible for a mathematician to draw a

triangle in the sand: and for the making of this grand discovery, this

subtle divine had plodded so hard for eight months together, that he

studied himself as blind as a beetle, the intenseness of the eye of his

understanding overshadowing and extinguishing that of his body; and yet

he did not at all repent him of his blindness, but thinks the loss of

his sight an easy purchase for the gain of glory and credit.

[Illustration: 294]

I heard at another time a grave divine, of fourscore years of age at

least, so sour and hard-favoured, that one would be apt to mistrust that

it was Scotus Redivivus; he taking upon him to treat of the mysterious

name, JESUS, did very subtly pretend that in the very letters was

contained, whatever could be said of it: for first, its being declined

only with three cases, did expressly point out the trinity of persons,

then that the nominative ended in S, the accusative in M, and the

ablative in U, did imply some unspeakable mystery, viz., that in words

of those initial letters Christ was the _summus_, or beginning, the

_medius_, or middle, and the _ultimus_, or end of all things. There was

yet a more abstruse riddle to be explained, which was by dividing the

word JESUS into two parts, and separating the S in the middle from the

two extreme syllables, making a kind of pentameter, the word consisting

of five letters: and this intermedial S being in the Hebrew alphabet

called sin, which in the English language signifies what the Latins term

_peecatum_, was urged to imply that the holy Jesus should purify us

from all sin and wickedness. Thus did the pulpiteer cant, while all the

congregation, especially the brotherhood of divines, were so surprised

at his odd way of preaching, that wonder served them, as grief did

Niobe, almost turned them into stones. I among the rest (as Horace

describes Priapus viewing the enchantments of the two sorceresses,

Canidia and Sagane) could no longer contain, but let fly a cracking

report of the operation it had upon me. These impertinent introductions

are not without reason condemned; for of old, whenever Demosthenes among

the Greeks, or Tully among the Latins, began their orations with so

great a digression from the matter in hand, it was always looked upon

as improper and unelegant, and indeed, were such a long-fetched exordium

any token of a good invention, shepherds and ploughmen might lay claim

to the title of men of greatest parts, since upon any argument it is

easiest for them to talk what is least to the purpose. These preachers

think their preamble (as we may well term it), to be the most

fashionable, when it is farthest from the subject they propose to treat

of, while each auditor sits and wonders what they drive at, and many

times mutters out the complaint of Virgil:--

_Whither does all this jargon tend?_ In the third place, when they come

to the division of their text, they shall give only a very short touch

at the interpretation of the words, when the fuller explication of their

sense ought to have been their only province. Fourthly, after they are

a little entered, they shall start some theological queries, far enough

off from the matter in hand, and bandy it about pro and con till they

lose it in the heat of scuffle. And here they shall cite their doctors

invincible, subtle, seraphic, cherubic, holy, irrefragable, and such

like great names to confirm their several assertions. Then out they

bring their syllogisms, their majors, their minors, conclusions,

corollaries, suppositions, and distinctions, that will sooner

terrify the congregation into an amazement, than persuade them into

a conviction. Now comes the fifth act, in which they must exert their

utmost skill to come off with applause. Here therefore they fall a

telling some sad lamentable story out of their legend, or some

other fabulous history, and this they descant upon allegorically,

tropologically, and analogically; and so they draw to a conclusion of

their discourse, which is a more brain-sick chimera than ever Horace

could describe in his _De Arte Poetica_, when he began:--

_Humano Capitis &c_. Their praying is altogether as ridiculous as their

preaching; for imagining that in their addresses to heaven they should

set out in a low and tremulous voice, as a token of dread and reverence,

they begin therefore with such a soft whispering as if they were afraid

any one should overhear what they said; but when they are gone a little

way, they clear up their pipes by degrees, and at last bawl out so loud

as if, with Baal's priests, they were resolved to awake a sleeping god;

and then again, being told by rhetoricians that heights and falls, and a

different cadency in pronunciation, is a great advantage to the setting

off any thing that is spoken, they will sometimes as it were mutter

their words inwardly, and then of a sudden hollo them out, and be sure

at last, in such a flat, faltering tone as if their spirits were spent,

and they had run themselves out of breath. Lastly, they have read

that most systems of rhetoric treat of the art of exciting laughter;

therefore for the effecting of this they will sprinkle some jests and

puns that must pass for ingenuity, though they are only the froth and

folly of affectedness. Sometimes they will nibble at the wit of being

satyrical, though their utmost spleen is so toothless, that they suck

rather than bite, tickle rather than scratch or wound: nor do they ever

flatter more than at such times as they pretend to speak with greatest

freedom.

Finally, all their actions are so buffoonish and mimical, that any

would judge they had learned all their tricks of mountebanks and

stage-players, who in action it is true may perhaps outdo them, but

in oratory there is so little odds between both, that it is hard to

determine which seems of longest standing in the schools of eloquence.

Yet these preachers, however ridiculous, meet with such hearers, who

admire them as much as the people of Athens did Demosthenes, or the

citizens of Rome could do Cicero: among which admirers are chiefly

shopkeepers, and women, whose approbation and good opinion they only

court; because the first, if they are humoured, give them some snacks

out of unjust gain; and the last come and ease their grief to them upon

all pinching occasions, especially when their husbands are any ways

cross or unkind.

Thus much I suppose may suffice to make you sensible how much these

cell-hermits and recluses are indebted to my bounty; who when they

tyrannize over the consciences of the deluded laity with fopperies,

juggles, and impostures, yet think themselves as eminently pious as St.

Paul, St. Anthony, or any other of the saints; but these stage-divines,

not less ungrateful dis-owners of their obligations to folly, than they

are impudent pretenders to the profession of piety, I willingly take my

leave of, and pass now to kings, princes, and courtiers, who paying me

a devout acknowledgment, may justly challenge back the respect of being

mentioned and taken notice of by me. And first, had they wisdom enough

to make a true judgment of things, they would find their own condition

to be more despicable and slavish than that of the most menial subjects.

For certainly none can esteem perjury or parricide a cheap purchase

for a crown, if he does but seriously reflect on that weight of cares a

princely diadem is loaded with. He that sits at the helm of government

acts in a public capacity, and so must sacrifice all private interest

to the attainment of the common good; he must himself be conformable to

those laws his prerogative exacts, or else he can expect no obedience

paid them from others; he must have a strict eye over all his inferior

magistrates and officers, or otherwise it is to be doubted they will but

carelessly discharge their respective duties. Every king, within his own

territories, is placed for a shining example as it were in the firmament

of his wide-spread dominions, to prove either a glorious star of benign

influence, if his behaviour be remarkably just and innocent, or else

to impend as a threatening comet, if his blazing power be pestilent and

hurtful. Subjects move in a darker sphere, and so their wanderings and

failings are less discernible; whereas princes, being fixed in a more

exalted orb, and encompassed with a brighter dazzling lustre, their

spots are more apparently visible, and their eclipses, or other defects,

influential on all that is inferior to them. Kings are baited with so

many temptations and opportunities to vice and immorality, such as are

high feeding, liberty, flattery, luxury, and the like, that they must

stand perpetually on their guard, to fence off those assaults that are

always ready to be made upon them. In fine, abating from treachery,

hatred, dangers, fear, and a thousand other mischiefs impending on

crowned heads, however uncontrollable they are this side heaven, yet

after their reign here they must appear before a supremer judge, and

there be called to an exact account for the discharge of that great

stewardship which was committed to their trust If princes did but

seriously consider (and consider they would if they were but wise) these

many hardships of a royal life, they would be so perplexed in the result

of their thoughts thereupon, as scarce to eat or sleep in quiet But now

by my assistance they leave all these cares to the gods, and mind only

their own ease and pleasure, and therefore will admit none to their

attendance but who will divert them with sport and mirth, lest they

should otherwise be seized and damped with the surprisal of sober

thoughts. They think they have sufficiently acquitted themselves in the

duty of governing, if they do but ride constantly a hunting, breed up

good race-horses, sell places and offices to those of the courtiers that

will give most for them, and find out new ways for invading of their

people's property, and hooking in a larger revenue to their own

exchequer; for the procurement whereof they will always have some

pretended claim and title; that though it be manifest extortion, yet

it may bear the show of law and justice: and then they daub over their

oppression with a submissive, flattering carriage, that they may so far

insinuate into the affections of the vulgar, as they may not tumult nor

rebel, but patiently crouch to burdens and exactions. Let us feign now a

person ignorant of the laws and constitutions of that realm he lives in,

an enemy to the public good, studious only for his own private interest,

addicted wholly to pleasures and delights, a hater of learning, a

professed enemy to liberty and truth, careless and unmindful of the

common concerns, taking all the measures of justice and honesty from

the false beam of self-interest and advantage, after this hang about his

neck a gold chain, for an intimation that he ought to have all virtues

linked together; then set a crown of gold and jewels on his head, for

a token that he ought to overtop and outshine others in all commendable

qualifications; next, put into his hand a royal sceptre for a symbol

of justice and integrity; lastly, clothe him with purple, for an

hieroglyphic of a tender love and affection to the commonwealth. If a

prince should look upon this portraiture, and draw a comparison between

that and himself, certainly he would be ashamed of his ensigns of

majesty, and be afraid of being laughed out of them.

[Illustration: His Majesty 302]

Next to kings themselves may come their courtiers, who, though they

are for the most part a base, servile, cringing, low-spirited sort of

flatterers, yet they look big, swell great, and have high thoughts of

their honour and grandeur. Their confidence appears upon all occasions;

yet in this one thing they are very modest, in that they are content to

adorn their bodies with gold, jewels, purple, and other glorious ensigns

of virtue and wisdom, but leave their minds empty and unfraught; and

taking the resemblance of goodness to themselves, turn over the truth

and reality of it to others. They think themselves mighty happy in that

they can call the king master, and be allowed the familiarity of talking

with him; that they can volubly rehearse his several tides of august

highness, supereminent excellence, and most serene majesty, that they

can boldly usher in any discourse, and that they have the complete knack

of insinuation and flattery; for these are the arts that make them truly

genteel and noble. If you make a stricter enquiry after their other

endowments, you shall find them mere sots and dolts. They will sleep

generally till noon, and then their mercenary chaplains shall come to

their bed-side, and entertain them perhaps with a short morning prayer.

As soon as they are drest they must go to breakfast, and when that

is done, immediately to dinner. When the cloth is taken away, then to

cards, dice, tables, or some such like diversion. After this they must

have one or two afternoon banquets, and so in the evening to supper.

When they have supped then begins the game of drinking; the bottles are

marshalled, the glasses ranked, and round go the healths and bumpers

till they are carried to bed. And this is the constant method of passing

away their hours, days, months, years, and ages. I have many times took

great satisfaction by standing in the court, and seeing how the tawdry

butterflies vie upon one another: the ladies shall measure the height of

their humours by the length of their trails, which must be borne up by a

page behind. The nobles justle one another to get nearest to the king's

elbow, and wear gold chains of that weight and bigness as require no

less strength to carry than they do wealth to purchase.

And now for some reflections upon popes, cardinals, and bishops, who in

pomp and splendour have almost equalled if not outgone secular princes.

Now if any one consider that their upper crotchet of white linen is to

signify their unspotted purity and innocence; that their forked mitres,

with both divisions tied together by the same knot, are to denote the

joint knowledge of the Old and New Testament; that their always wearing

gloves, represents their keeping their hands clean and undented from

lucre and covetousness; that the pastoral staff implies the care of

a flock committed to their charge; that the cross carried before them

expresses their victory over all carnal affections; he (I say) that

considers this, and much more of the like nature, must needs conclude

they are entrusted with a very weighty and difficult office. But alas,

they think it sufficient if they can but feed themselves; and as to

their flock, either commend them to the care of Christ himself, or

commit them to the guidance of some inferior vicars and curates; not so

much as remembering what their name of bishop imports, to wit, labour,

pains, and diligence, but by base simoniacal contracts, they are in a

profane sense _Episcopi, i.e_., overseers of their own gain and income.

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