_He being now by the Relator brought acquainted with the Scrivener,
Drugster, and the rest of his Companions; they enter into discourse
about the several Factious Religions practised in_ England.
Thus did our Relator finish his long story, which was so filled with
profit, as well as pleasure, that I accounted the time I had spent in
hearing him the best bestowed of any: for I gathered so much variety of
experiences, that if I had any minde to prosecute my former course of
life in cheating and Roguing, I might now soon profess my self to be my
Arts-Master, if I did but bravely follow those Examples he had related
to me: but if they were any wise improved, as I had a Genius fit enough
to be highly active, I might then out-do all Example.
These were my first thoughts, but I had not much time to spend in
contemplation: but he having put an end to his discourse, I kindly
thanked him for his great freedom used in his relation; and told him,
that since he had been so generous to me in unbosoming himself, I in
requital did promise him a lasting friendship, and at our first leasure
recount some of my life to him, which I had hitherto concealed, that
should give him satisfaction that I intended to use an absolute freedom
with him.
Thus did we contract a friendship, and it was now time to eat somewhat,
the best part of the day having been spent in his long narrative: such
as the house afforded we had, and after a repast, we concluded both to
go on board of their Ship to finde out his Companions; he resolving to
acquaint them with what had passed between us, and to let them know my
quality, believing they would be well enough satisfied with what he had
done, because they might have great occasion to make use of me.
In this resolution we were preparing to go to the Ship, when the
Scrivener and Drugster entred the house, enquiring for their Companion,
who presenting himself to them, they desired him to walk out, that they
might confer together: No, said he, let us take a Room here and
discourse, which we may do with as much freedom as any where else: he
urging it, they consented, and having a private Room and necessaries,
after a cup or two of Wine I left their company, on purpose to give my
friend the _Taylor_ (who was called _Gregory_) the opportunity of
acquainting them with what had passed between us, which I suppose he did
in very few words; for within half an hour I was called for, and being
kindly saluted by the two Gentlemen, was desired to sit down and make
one of their Company. After a Cup or two of Wine more had passed, my
friend _Gregory Taylor_ thus spake to me: Friend, I have acquainted
these my two Friends and Companions with our late discourse, and by that
they know that all their affairs are known to you also; I have told them
what I know of you, & we are all sensible that your acquaintance may be
very useful and necessary in all things, but much more your friendship:
Wherefore, as you say I by my freedom with you have merited your
acquaintance and friendship; so I desire the same room in your brest for
my Friends, who by me desire it, and in requital you shall command ours;
and whatever we have, you shall be equally Master of with our selves.
I made no long pause in replying to them, that they might command my
love and friendship, and in that my all, to render them the utmost
testimonies that I could. And thus did we all agree to have a friendly
correspondence, and to conceal nothing of our affairs one from another.
We then drank off some more Wine; and though their two Ladies and the
Captain were absent, yet we remembred them in our Cups, and resolved the
next day to dine all on board the Ship: and at my importunity I so far
prevailed, as that the Women might appear there in their own
Female-Habits; for it had now been a long time since I saw any
_European_ beauties.
We after this discoursed of many affairs of general consequence, as the
manner of the Countries, and Governments both Ecclesiastical and Civil,
in which we spent some time: but in regard all that can be said of that
matter, is already related in the second Chapter of this second part; I
shall therefore here forbear it: but it wrought much upon the spirit of
the Drugster; who having formerly been a great stickler in Religion, was
amazed that there was so good a correspondence in Religion, which was as
he imagined so barbarous: Well, said he, I finde that most places enjoy
a greater happiness in their conformities in Religion, then our Native
Country of _England_; for there, instead of Unity and loving Conformity,
they are rent and torn in peeces into many Factions; and that hath been
the principal occasion of the effusion of so much blood as hath been
spilt of late years; and when I left _England_, there was still a
discontented party that was ready on all occasions to attempt a publique
mischief for their private interest, and onely to maintain a private
self-will’d-fancy, which they term’d Religion.
I my self was for a long time bewitcht with a Fanatick Zeal; and my
Master being a man of the same Humour, had instill’d such Principles
into me, that I had much ado to have any charity for any person that was
in the right: but in time I finding a great deal of strictness in the
precise practice, and that under pretence of much Zeal, there was more
Covetousness then in any other perswasion; I quitted that perswasion for
another, and shifted so long, that I found my life but one continued
Comedy of errors. In the end I went over to the Episcopal party, & one
of the most powerful reasons that I had to follow the Independant
perswasion, was a Woman, my Mistresses Sister, as I suppose you have
already heard. Yes, said I, this our friend hath given me satisfaction
in that particular, and I very well approve of the revenge you had upon
her: and as for my own part, I was once a very great Lover of the Ramble
my self, but left it, out of a more generous consideration: for being in
company with an Orthodox Parson, he told me that I was much mistaken in
my opinions; he gave me such a Character of a Libertine Zealot, as I
knew to be true, and wholly put me out of conceit with the Faction: they
were now all desirous to hear what was said to that particular; and
therefore I told them I would recollect my self, and give them the best
account that I could, and such a one as I believed they would conclude
with me, was not onely ingenious, but true: and thereupon I began in
this manner.
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_The Character of a Libertine
Zealot._
To describe him right, is a task like that of the Taylor who took
measure of the Devil; for there is nothing more like him upon Earth then
he: He is lined with Covetousness, and covered with Hypocrisie, the Root
and Cloak of all evil. Although at this time he carries a Bible, yet
upon occasion he wears a Sword; so that it is hard to say, whether he be
of the Tribe of _Simeon_ or _Levi_. He swallows contrary Oaths faster
then the Eagles in the Tower do gobbets of flesh; for the way to Hell,
and the Conscience of a Libertine, are two broad things. He condemns the
lawful Rites and Ceremonies of the Church; and is more ravished with the
squeaking of a Tythe-pig, then with the Musick of Organs.
He appears at his Preachment (like _Æsops_ Crow) in a dress of borrowed
feathers; for he preaches the works of other men, which are so much the
worse for the coming out of his mouth, as Wares for being of the second
hand. But it would grieve your heart to see how he racks the ancient
Fathers, when he makes his own confession, and mangles the Modern
Divines more barbarously then the Hang-man did the body of _Hugh
Peters_; I am sure poor _Priscian_ gets many a broken head.
His Eloquence consists altogether in rayling, as though he had got his
education at _Billinsgate_. In his discourse he runs on like a Mad-dog,
foaming and open-mouth’d, yelping at the Reverend Bishops; and even
accounts many of his own Brethren, the Sectaries, as mad as himself. Yet
sometimes he perceives that his stuff is too short for the hour-Glass;
and then the wheels of his Rhetorick move very heavily: he then spends
much time in humming and spitting; and with the wiping of his Nose,
makes many a filthy Parenthesis.
As for his Text, he handles that as _Moses_ did his Rod when it was
turned into a Serpent, he lays it down, and runs away from it: yet his
Sermon lies all written before him; for the poor Copy-holder in Divinity
can do nothing without his Notes. This his weakness, he would have you
think, is his worth; for he chargeth men of abler parts with
presumption: Yet when he prays, he shuts his Eyes, preferring Nonsense
and Tautologies before the Divine Lyturgy. _Vain Wretch, that dares not
speak to men without Papers, and yet presumes to talk to God_ extempore!
As for his Congregation, he Saints or reprobates them, according to what
they give him; and like a Gypsie, tells good Fortune to none but those
that cross his hand with a piece of silver; and by him, as well as by
the Pope, you may be Canonized for mony: Thus he is a meer _Balaam_,
that blesseth and curseth for reward: he that opposeth him, acts the
part of an Angel; but he that submits to him is worse then an Ass. If
you consider his constancy, he is a kind of _Religious Proteus_, that is
now ready to fawn upon that Power against which he hath so long bark’d.
If therefore there be a Church in _England_ which consists of men,
surely, _The Orthodox, faithful, constant Ministers, are the Doors,
Windows, Pillars, Bells and Candlesticks_; and the rest serve only for
_Weathercocks_.
It is confessed, that at the beginning of this happy Reformation, he was
a little stubborn: perhaps, expecting a second War; but now (poor heart)
he hath learned to pray for his Majesty: but (if you could hear the
language of his Soul) it is so, as impatient heirs pray for their rich
fathers. There are two sorts of men, who having escaped a deserved pair
of Gallows, pray for the King very strangely, that is, a Felon, whilst
the Executioner burns his hand; and a Traytor, whilst the Devil sears
his Conscience.
If you would know his name, you may finde it subscrib’d to an ugly
Petition; for where _Bradshaw_ was a _Pilate_ that condemned, he was one
of those Jews that cry’d Crucifie. He professes sorrow for the Martyrdom
of our late Soveraign; but believe him not, for his hand helped to hale
him to the Block. In a word, he is (at best) but a State-Crocodile, and
one that is Maudlin-drunk with the Kings blood.
No more, but if you chance to meet with a Hue and Cry, you may tell
them, that he was lately in a Sequestred Parsonage.
This Character was hugely pleasing to the Drugster; and indeed, he and
his two Companions, the Scrivener, and _Gregory_ the Taylor, did all
conclude, that it was very ingeniously true, and gave much satisfaction
to them in that particular; and they all agreed, _That the Dissenters
from the Church, were the Murtherers of their Prince_.
They all so well approving of what had been said of these Varlets, I
told them that I could likewise relate somewhat else of the same
Gentlemans composure, who writ that _Character_; and which I did
conclude to be altogether as ingenious, and that it was a great novelty,
having never as yet been in Print: they being earnest in their desires
to hear me, I told them it was only the fifth Fable of _Æsop_ Moralized;
and thereupon I began as follows:
_The Brutes would once go hunt: a nimble Crew
Of those that dwell in Dens and Caves pursue
And take a goodly Stag, who in his fall
Proclaims sufficient booties unto all.
Each Beast being troubled with their hungry maws,
Were urging Clyents to their panting Jaws:
Divide, says one; another cries, Cast lots;
With that, the Lyon Roars, Away ye Scots:
Who’s that who says divide? pray be content,
The first part’s mine, because most excellent;
And but one part! nay, then you do me wrong,
A second part is mine, because most strong;
And if you dare give credit to my word,
Our pain and sweat have merited a third.
Now there remains a fourth, which is but small,
And scarce worth speaking of amongst you all;
Which you may give me willingly; and thus,
Renew the friendship betwixt you and us.
Be wise therefore; is it more safe to move
A Lyons anger, or confirm his love?
For if you shew the least unwillingness,
I’ll make you know the Senior of your Mess.
This said, the Hunters were amaz’d thereat;
They knew their distance, and they durst not prate,
But hung their tails betwixt their legs for shame,
And went away more hungry then they came._
This, said I, was the Fable, which though it had already admitted of
many Paraphrases and Morals, yet was never yet in my opinion so fit and
aptly moralized, as in what I shall here recite, which I did thus:
_But take away the Brutes, and clear the Stage;
Enter those mighty Nimrods of the Age:
That cursed Crew that hunted for a Throne,
And made a Babel in Religion.
Lo here they come, that_ England _did express
To be more brutish than a Wilderness:
A Wide-mouth’d-yelping-cur, with a long ear,
Of a Scotch brood, they call’d him ----:
Cerberus was his Syre, and for his dam
A Beast to whom_ Adam _never gave name.
The solemn Covenant which he did take,
Hung like a pair of Couples on his neck:
The which he soon shook off; nay more, the Dog
Threw by his conscience, 'twas a tedious Clog.
And then began the game: Actæons hounds
Ne'er gave their Master half so many wounds,
As these their King: it was a hellish brood
That took the sent of none but Royal blood.
Loud was their Cry, and nimble was their Race;
A sadder hunting far than_ Chevy Chase.
_But at the length, the Royal Hart they take,
Nor would they spare his life for_ Cæsars _sake;
But he must dye, yet Noble ---- scorns
His share, ---- onely got the Horns.
But like the Lyon,_ Cromwel, _that great man,
Made of_ Behemoth _and_ Leviathan,
_Thus speaks; And do you think, my friends, to share
That Prize in Peace, which I obtain’d in War?
Divide the spoil, and then as General I
Claim the first part due for my Excellency.
A second part our able strength demands;
A third is mine, 'cause these victorious hands
In all those fights wherein we had to do,
Were the most painful and most prosperous too.
Thus our activity, and strength, and worth,
Have won three parts, there onely rests a fourth;
Which we’ll with love accept, but if deny’d,
Our sword shall teach you better to divide.
Thus, as our Saviours Vesture, which might not
Be cut in pieces, was obtain’d by lot:
So our great_ Charles _his power, which could not be
Dissolv’d into an Aristocracie,
Was Tyrant_ Cromwels _share; and now our whips
Were turn’d to Scorpions: Now the grand Eclipse
Began; we saw no Sun for twice seven years,
Onely two fatal Stars by turns appears:
Protectorship, and Rumpship did prevail:_
Nol _was the_ Dragons _head, and they the tail.
But welcome_ Charles _the Second, happy are we,
That_ Britain_’s Monarchy’s restor’d in thee;
If_ Cromwels _life had put a period to't,
It’d both begun and ended in a Brute._
If they were pleas’d with the foregoing Characters, this Fable thus
moralized gave them much more satisfaction, and highly contented them;
for the truth contained in it, was undeniable, and it was expressed with
much ingenuity, and they told me that certainly he that composed these
two things, the Character and Fable, was a person very ingenious, and
able to convert any that were seduced in that Faction, unless they were
very obstinate, as most of that Faction were: for having been Rebellious
to their Prince, they made that saying true, _That Rebellion is as the
sin of Witchcraft, not to be repented of_.
In this discourse of the several Factions in Religion we spent some
time; and the Drugster being best acquainted with all of them, made a
discourse of every one in particular from top to bottom: and when he
came to speak of them, he told us that he supposed there would now in a
short time be some end of these growing Factions; Because, said he, that
Quakerism is the last that is risen up, and it is now above twelve years
since it began to be famous; and though hitherto it encreases, yet they
have not found any other novelty from that, as at first there was out of
the first Religious faction: but there is none that is produced by the
Quaker; so that it is hoped that will be the last of the Factions. I
have heard of one small Faction that contradicts the Quakers, and that
is one _Muggeltons_ Sect, who together with one _Reeve_, does pretend to
be the two last Witnesses that are to come upon earth. _Reeve_ is some
time since dead, but _Muggleton_ surviving him, is a great enemy to the
Quakers, and their chief Opponent; for they questioning his Call, he for
that cause Damns them; and so absolute he is, that he says, after he
hath damn’d them, they cannot be saved, not by Providence it self. He
professes in one of his writings, being an Interpretation of the 11
Chapter of the _Revelations_, That he, and he alone can give a true
Interpretation of the Scripture, and unfold the whole Counsel of God,
concerning himself, the Devil, and all Mankind from the foundation of
the world to all Eternity; and this was never revealed by any of the
sons of men, untill now: Thus subscribing his Papers, By _Lodowick
Muggleton_, one of the two last Commissionated Witnesses and Prophets of
the only High, Immortal, Glorious God, _Christ Jesus_.
We told the Drugster that this Sect of _Muggletons_ we had not heard of;
and I being very desirous to be further acquainted with this opinion,
asked him if he had read his Writings, Yes, said he, and there is as
extraordinary matters and opinions handled and treated of therein, as
any Sect that this last age hath produced: nay, and more absolute he
would make himself then all others; but he more especially writes
against the Quakers, in a manner condemning them all in general. I
desiring to be more particularly informed of his writings, he granted my
request, and proceeded as followeth:
This Book of his writing, said he, falling into the hands of one _Edward
Bourn_ a Quaker, is by him despised and cavilled at; for, he said that
he had perused it till he was weary with looking into it, for it was one
of the dirtiest and confusedst pieces of work that ever he saw: and many
other particular cavils had he against it; which _Muggleton_ hearing of,
is so much offended, that he writes a Letter to him, dated in _August_
1662. and there he thus concludes: _I write these Lines unto you_ Edward
Bourn, _knowing you to be of the seed of the Serpent, and appointed to
eternal Damnation before you were born; though you know it not, I do
know it, by your speaking evil of that Doctrine which is declared by us
the Witnesses of the Spirit, by calling it deceit, confusion, and lies,
with many more wicked speeches against the purest truth that ever was
declared by Prophet or Apostle, because this is the Commission of the
Spirit, and the last Witness of God on Earth_.
_Therefore, for these your hard sayings against the Doctrine of this
Commission of the Spirit; In obedience unto my Commission, I pronounce
you cursed and damned, both Soul and Body, from the presence of God,
elect men and Angels, to Eternity; neither shall that light within you,
nor any God deliver you from this curse, but according to my word it
shall be upon you, because you shall know, that God hath given power
unto Man to curse you to eternity, and that there is a Prophet of the
Lord now in_ England.
This Letter being thus subscribed, was printed and sent to the said
_Edward Bourn_. Also another to one _Samuel Hooker_ and _W. S._ both
Quakers, wherein amongst other things he thus writes:
_First, I declare as I am a Prophet and Messenger of the true God, that
the people called Quakers are not the children of the most high God, but
for the generality of them, they are children of the Devil, and are the
very Seed of the Devil, and were begotten by him; and I (as I am an
Ambassador ordained of God by voyce of Words) can as truely say; that
they are the Seed of the Serpent, and so the children of the Devil, as
Christ did to the Jews, when he said, that_ they were Serpents, _yea_
Devils, _and the_ Devil was their father. _So can I say by you Quakers,
and many thousands more as well as you, that you were the children of
the Devil, that were begotten by him, and not begotten by_ Adam, _who
never came through the loyns of_ Adam, _though they came through the
womb of_ Eve. _For this I know,_ Cain _was the first-born of the Devil,
and_ Adam _had no part in the begetting of him. And from this_ Cain
_came the Jews that Christ called_ Serpents _and_ Devils.
Much more he writes against the Quakers, and is as absolute in his
sentence of Damnation against these two, being almost in the same words
as the former. His writings in general are filled with many strange
Opinions, and he is now the greatest Enemy of the Quakers, telling them,
that they are but some of the melancholy sort of Ranters, and by falling
from Ranting to Quaking, are now worse then before; for before they were
in the Wilderness, but are now returned back into _Egypt_, and so the
further off from entring into the Land of _Canaan_: and in one place he
is pretty pleasant with the Quakers, for saith he, The greatest things
that ever I heard the Quakers do, is to find fault with a piece of
Ribbon, Gold-button, or a Bandstring, and such like, and to possess
themselves with a melancholly spirit of Witchcraft, and so fall into
Witchcraft-fits, to lie humming and groaning, which doth fright the
beholders; so instead of those merry-Devils which they had upon the
Ranting-score, where all was good, lying with their Neighbours wife,
deflowring Virgins, cozening and cheating, and destroying every one in
their outward Estate which did entertain them, and now that Devil is
cast out, now they are grown in as much extream on the other side; for
now they are grown so precise and exact for Apparel and for words, no
words must be placed out of joynt, so that no man can almost tell how to
deal with them; and this melancholly Devil hath cast out the Ranting
Devil, which makes them so proud and stiff-necked, thinking themselves
that they are better then other people, when as they are worse; for they
are possessed with the Spirit of Witchcraft, which makes them two-fold
more the children of the Devil then they were before; which none can
discover but this Commission of the Spirit; neither did I ever hear by
any which heard the Quakers speak, that they did ever preach any sound
Doctrine, but only exhort people to hearken to the light within them,
which is a very low & easie thing for every ordinary understanding to
comprehend; and this is the cause there is such a multitude of men and
women fall into it, _&c._ And thus did he proceed, his whole writing
being to pull them down, and set himself up.
Soon after the Printing of these Letters, I met with a Quaker, an
acquaintance of mine, and asked of him whether he had seen these Letters
of _Muggletons_, which went by the name of _The Neck of the Quakers
broken, or cut in sunder by the two-edg’d sword of the Spirit, which is
put into my mouth_. He reply’d, Yea he had. What thinkest thou, said I,
of those of your perswasion in general, and more particularly of those
persons whom he hath damn’d? I think him to be a deluded person, said
he, for I have known him long, and also his fellow Prophet _Reeve_, who
is since dead: and I remember this one passage, that one of our
perswasion did calmly discourse with _Reeve_ about many principal things
of his Judgement and Opinion: and though they did not agree to every
thing, yet _Reeve_ said he believed he would be converted, for that he
was confident he was of the seed of Faith, and not of that of the Devil;
onely that his eyes were not yet opened, but in time they would. And
thus they parted.
Soon after _Muggleton_ (who was always more vigilant than _Reeve_) being
affronted by some Quakers, according to his custom pronounced the
sentence of damnation against them; which the Quakers who had discoursed
with _Reeve_ hearing, and meeting with _Muggleton_, told him he had done
very ill, in being so rash as to damn them: And further, charged him
with wandring up and down to make Sects. To this _Muggleton_ replyed; It
is not I, it is those of the Quakers that wander up and down; as those
that went to _New England_, and _John Perrot_ unto _Rome_, to get the
Pope and his Bishops to be Disciples of Christ; and there to be punished
in his body: and when he came home again, to be damn’d to eternity, by
me, for his pains; because he went by the light within him, and was not
sent by the voice of God without him: Therefore eternal damnation will
be his reward for going without a Commission from God; and so will all
the Ministers of the Quakers. And whereas you say that my mouth is full
of cursing, and that I shall reap of the same; likewise you say, that I
am out of _Christs_ and the Apostles Doctrine, that said, _bless and
curse not_, with many other sayings: As for my mouth being full of
cursing, that is my Commission: neither do I curse any but Devils, which
are appointed for it of God; and there is never a one that I have
cursed, that shall escape that curse which I have denounced upon them;
neither will any God deliver them from it: for I do curse none but the
Seed of the Serpent, who had his curse denounced upon him and his Seed,
at the beginning by God himself.
To this discourse of _Muggletons_, our Brother the Quaker making some
angry reply, in contradicting what he had said, _Muggleton_ did for that
cause presently pronounce the sentence of Damnation, alledging that he
was of the Seed of the Devil. Thus, said the _Quaker_, though _Reeve_
said he was not of the Seed of the Devil; yet _Muggleton_, his
fellow-Prophet, said he was, and therefore proceeded against him to
damnation. Now whether he be damned or saved, judge you: And therefore,
said he, I think it matters not much what he says, because they thus
contradict one another.
And thus we parted, and I concluded, that as it was no great matter what
_Muggleton_ said or did; so there was no great heed to be taken with
what was, or should be said or done by the _Quakers_: I believing and
knowing that what _Muggleton_ had said of them as to their humours, and
falling from _Ranting_ to _Quaking_, and such like particulars, to be
true; though I believed him, and all other Factions to be alike deluded
and mistaken in the general.
And, continued he, though this _Muggletons_ opinions and Doctrine be
thus strange, and he a very inconsiderable unlearned fellow, being by
Profession a Taylor; yet he hath gained many to his belief, who give him
much respect; but he takes no money of them, onely he gets his writings
printed, and distributing them among his people, they pay him for them:
but in the main, he works at his Trade for a lively-hood: and he hath,
as well as the _Quakers_, suffered Imprisonment, but hath been released
and favoured, as I have heard, by some persons of Honour, who are
well-willers to him.
Thus did the Drugster discourse of the Factions, and we with him did
hope and conclude, that since there was no greater a growth in faction,
there having been no new ones for some years last past, that it was more
then probable that they would consume and moulder away of themselves.
The forenoon being spent wholly in the large Narrative of the Adventures
of my now fellow-Companions and Guests, and the most of the afternoon in
this Discourse, it was time now to think of parting; and they being
mindful of the entertainment they were to give me the next day on board
of their Ship, being out of my house furnished with some necessary
provisions, all parted from me.
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