The Nonconformists Advocate, Postscript
A POSTSCRIPT.
I Have yet two Queries to propound to mine Opponents, to each of them their queſtion, and ſo I ſhall take my leave of them for the preſent.
You therefore, Sir, who appeared firſt againſt me, highly applaud the writings of the Apochrypha, and plead much for the verity of them in themſelves, and the uſefulneſs of them as to the reading of them to the people; for you ſay, Few Proteſtant Writers of any note, p. 10. l. 16.(I would you had named ſome of thoſe noted men) but have commended, at leaſt have allowed of the reading of them; that is, in the publique Aſſembly, and Congregation, as well as other Scripture; and you except againſt me for ſtiling them, Fabulous Legends, and ſay,many of the ancient Fathers did believe them to be true ſtories, (as true as Goſpel) and though he (A.B.) is pleaſed to call them Fabulous Legends, I never yet ſaw any Arguments to prove them Fables, but what would admit of a fair ſolution, and when this Author produces any, I ſhall conſider them. And you add, but ſuppoſing them Fables, they are nevertheleſs fit for all that to be read in the Chriſtian Aſſemblies: ſince they may ſerve for instruction, or comfort, or reproof, as the Parables of our Saviour do. What, Sir, do you think what you ſpeak? What as the Parables of our Saviour do? What, ſhall the Fables of Apochrypha beavouched, to ſerve for inſtruction, comfort and reproof as the Parables of our Saviour do? Is this as a Conjunction of equality, or onelyonly of aliquality? To my beſt Remembrance it is Aquinas his diſtinction, and it is needful here to free you from an horrid blaſphemy: you might well therefore have affixed ſome word of rebate to your word as, to have avoided all imputation of it. Yet this is not the queſtion I have to propound: but ſince you declare your mind and judgment, for the truth and goodneſs of the Apochryphal writings, I would enquire of you,
Q. What ſtrong convincing, and Cogent Motives of credence wrought you into this perſwaſion, and brought you into this mind?
The reading of this Paragraph ſet me a wondring; but certainly you have foreign ſomthing hidden in your breſt beyond vulgar knowledge to juſtifie Apocrypha; which I would gladly underſtand for my better information. For I confeſs unto this day, I have entertained a quite different, yea utterly a contrary apprehenſion of them. Among many others theſe are two of my reaſons: firſt, becauſe they contain in them ſeveral Doctrines, not only inconſiſtent with themſelves, but alſo repugnant to the Scriptures of the Old and New Teſtament. Secondly, becauſe they report and witneſs many things as really tranſacted and done, which ſound reaſon and common ſenſe (if they may beheard to ſpeak) will unanſwerably tell you, can be nothing elſe but Monſtrous and incredible fiction, impoſſible in nature, and at as great an Elongation from Faith and Verity, as whatſoever was Hatched in the brains, or mentioned by the pens of Heſiod, Homer, or any other of the greateſt and moſt famous of thoſe lying Poets, I remember very well, when I was but a little young School-boy in reading over the books of the Maccabees, many of thoſe ſtrange ſtories found as little belief in me; but that of one Razis, a Jew I judged to be a notorious untruth, and continue to be of the ſame mind unto this day. For thus it is written of him, 2 Maccab. Chap. 14. v. 37. Now there was accuſed unto Nicanor one Razis one of the Elders of Jeruſalem, a lover of his Country men and a man of very good report, who for his kindneſs was called, a Father of the Jews— ſo Nicanor willing to declare the hate he bare unto the Jews ſent above five hundred men of war to take him—now when the multitude would have taken the Tower, and violently broken into the utter door, and bid the fire ſhould be brought to burn it, he being ready to be taken on every ſde, fell upon his Sword Chuſing rather to die manfully (that is to be guilty of ſelf Murder) then to come into the hands of the wicked, to be abuſed otherwiſe then beſeemed his Noble Birth: but miſſing his ſtroak through haſt, the multitude alſo ruſhing within the doors, he ran boldly up to the wall, and caſt himſelf down manfully amongſt the thickeſt of them; but they quickly giving place, and a ſpace being made, he fell down into the midſt of the void place. Nevertheleſs while there was yet breath within him, being inflamed with anger he roſe up, and though his blood gaſhed out like ſpouts of water, and his wounds were grievous; yet he ran through the midſt of the throng, and ſtanding upon a ſteep Rock, when as his Blood was now quite gone, he pluckt out his bowels, and taking them in both his hands, he caſt them upon the throng, and calling upon the Lord of Life and Spirit to reſtore him thoſe again, thus he died. Here is ſuch a Concatenation of prodigies, in this one Narration, that nothing leſs than a prodigy of credulity can aſſent to any one particular of them. It is marvellous that the fall of Razis, from the Top of the High wall of the Caſtle (eſpecially he caſting himſelf down violently from thence, and falling upon the bare ground or pavement, for they quickly gave place, and did not bear him up) had not immediately done his buſineſs for him upon the ſpot; had not immediately beaten his brains out of his head, his bowels out of his belly, and breath out of his body; at leaſt put him out of all Capacity of riſing and running; and this through a throng of people, and theſe a throng of Souldiers and Armed men, and they alſo Aſſayling him on every ſide; for they were ſent to Seize his perſon, and to bring him Priſoner. Alas our George, and Arthur are not ſo much, if compared with this great Heroe Razis, as a Graſhopper with Goliah! The moſt renowned of ſuch Knights have loſt their Spurs; Ecce homines Homunciones blancati quaſi libia, …as he ſaid merrily in another Caſe: which will more notoriouſly appear in the concluſion of this moſt aſtoniſhing Tragical Exploit: for behold though his blood guſhed out like Spouts of water, yea when his blood was now quite gone, and not one drop of it left in the veins, (which might befall him, either by the violence of the aforeſaid fall, or from the many wounds he had received from the Swords of the Souldiers, or othewiſe; for we are left at uncertainties.) Yet even then he called upon the Lord of life! It is written indeed of our Saviour, that after he had loſt much blood upon the croſs, he cryed out with a loud voice, ſaying, Eli, Eli, lama-ſabachthani, and yeilded up the Ghoſt. But this was wholly and altogether above the power of nature, and therefore worthily counted one of his laſt Miracles; becauſe great Effuſion of blood does neceſſarily enervate the parts of the body inſtrumental and requiſite to ſpeech, beyond the poſſibility of framing or uttering any articulate voice, or indeed any ſound at all. Which therefore (as ſome have thought) the Centurion hearing and obſerving, being (as well he might be) a Naturaliſt and a Philoſoper, did convince him, that the perſon then ſuffering was not only a juſt and righteous man, but alſo much more then, foreign, meer man; for he ſaid, Truly this was the Son of God, Mat. 27. v. 54. Compared with Luk. 23. v. 46. Though it is evident that our Saviour had yet much of his blood remaining within him, when he loudly lowed out (if I may ſo ſpeak with all due reverence) that bitter Lamentation; for afterward it is ſaid, one of the Souldiers with a ſpear pierced his ſide, and forthwith came there out blood and water, Joh. 19.34. Wherefore as for our Razis, it may be ſaid, if it could be without unpardonable blaſphemy, Behold a greater than Chriſt is here; for now when his blood was quite all gone, he called upon the Lord of life and ſpirit: yet this is no great matter, if conſidered with what is ſtill further reported of him: For now notwithſtanding all his blood was gone, he had not only Power and vigour to call upon God, but alſo to pluck out his own bowels, ſurely they hung very looſe, and take them with both his hands; it is ſtrange that neither of them was hurt and diſabled by his fall; and caſt them upon the Throng. If this be not a Thumper, I never heard one in my life.
But you will object, and ſay, theſe books of the Maccabees are not in the Kalendar, neither are they appointed to be read. I anſwer, though they are not in the Kalendar, yet they are in Apochrypha; of which in the whole Lump you are a ſtrenuous propugnator, without any Limitation or Exception. Nevertheleſs to give you all fair play imaginable, I will return from the Maccabees to the Hiſtory of Tobit and his Dog, which hath its courſe in the Desk, and that too by order, as well as any part of the Holy Bible it ſelf, Tobit, I ſay, and his Dog: For though you were pleaſed to flurt at me for mentioning of his dog, and ſay, I ſuppoſe this Author does not know that the Fifth Chapter of Tobit is left out, (that is, out of the Kalendar) where Tobit and his dog are found together; yet how cauſeleſly and weakly you do it, will inſtantly appear; inſomuch that if Tobit's dog were yet alive he had reaſon enough to reſent the injury with aſnarl, and not only ſo,p. 7. l. 13. but alſo bite you by the heels, for putting ſuch a ſlight and affront upon him; for why ſhould you ſhut him out of the Holy place, as an unclean thing; ſince he is admitted and received as well as his Maſter? Yet ſuppoſe I had not known that the Fifth Chapter was left out, it would have no more challenged my knowledg or underſtanding, then if you ſhould be▪ upbraided with ignorance, becauſe you know not to handle your needle, nor how to cut out a gown in right Mode & faſhion, as well as any French Taylour in the Town; for what have you to do with ſuch a knowledg? and ſo what have I to do with the Curioſity and intreague of the Kalendar in this particular? Yea, I believe your ſelf would be put to a ſtand, to give a good and ſatisfactory account,C. 12.15. why only that Fifth Chapter of the whole book of Tobit, C. 5. v. 12.ſhould be left out? Why this rather then any of the reſt, which are altogether Ejuſdem farinae of the ſame leven? And the rather, becauſe if you obſerve it in this Fifth Chapter, the main plot and foundation of the whole Tragick-comedy is brought in and laid, as it is uſual upon the ſtage, in ſome of the firſt ſcens. For here is Raphael a great Angel of Heaven, if you have Faith to believe, brought in under the diſguiſe of a ſervant, and profeſſes himſelf to be *Hoc autem mendacium eſt, quo ne que deus ne que veriipſius Angeli, in Canonicis libris leguntur uſi: quodmendacium, ut excuſemus, non magnopere pu…amus eſſe laborandum: qui… …ut multae rationes …inc inde comportentur) mendacium eſt mendacium, a deo & ab Electis ejus Angelis alieniſſimum▪ So a true Expoſitor upon the place.Azarias the Son of Ananias the great; by what latitude of ſpeech, I will not undertake to reſolve, nor yet how decorouſly: for it is not uſual nor ſlightly, that the Son of ſo great a man ſhould need to turn ſerving-man. Well, notwithſtanding he profers his ſervice to Tobit the Son, v. 6. And is entertained to waite upon him in his Travail; and ſo they went forth both and the young mans dog with him, ver. 16. And it is this Raphael, this ſervant which teaches his young Maſter thoſe unheard of Rarities, and puts him upon the performing thoſe wonderful exploits in the following Acts. Davus Omnia: Raphael is all in all, and young Tobit is nothing without him. Why therefore this neceſſary ſcene of introduction, ſhould be left out and omitted, and this buſie Davus and moſt extraordinary ſervant ſhould abruptly and ſuddenly appear, none underſtanding from whence or how, is wholly beyond my apprehenſion. I would gladly know, whether Mr. Falkner, (unto whom you owe much) in any of his great labours, and learned Exercitations about the Liturgy, has given us the true reaſon of this Chaſme and Hiulcan leap in the Kalendar? Surely there is ſome Myſtery in it: but what, Raphael knows for all me. In the interim it may well purple your Cheeks, that you ſhould rather then not twit me with ignorance, betray your own; for though the Fifth Chapter is left out, and conſequently Tobit, and his Dog, yet if you had looked forward unto the Eleventh Chapter (ordered to be read) there you ſhall find Tobit and his Dog again: for thus it is recorded, v. 4. So they went their way, and the Dog went after them. And for the better convincing you of the truth of what I now ſpeak, be pleaſed, if you count it worth the while, to go to any of our Cathedral-Churches, next third day of October, in the forenoon in the year one thouſand Six hundred and eighty, and ſo quotannis for the future, and you will be ſatisfied. Saint Paul's is not yet reedified, therefore that of Weſt-minſter is neareſt; where if you will do your devotions in that grave and ſolemn aſſembly, graced with the preſence of a great and generous Biſhop: together with his Prebends, Prieſts, and Deacons, beſides a loud Chorus of ſinging men, and ſinging boys alternatly reſponding; you ſhall ſee the reverend reader in due time and place coming out of his ſeat, firſt making his lowlie obeiſance, with his face to the earth towards the Holy Altar, though without a ſacrifice; and therefore why he ſo bows, is not a little Myſterious; and then turning about to ſhew the ſame reverence to the preſul of the quire, and going into the Pew, you ſhall hear him pronounce with a loud voice, theſe or the like words, The holy leſſon appointed, for this morning ſervice is the Eleventh Chapter of the book of Tobit; and then he proceeds to his work. After theſe things Tobias went his ways praiſing God, that had given him aproſperous journey, and bleſſed Raguel and Edna his Wife, and went on his way till he drew near to Ninive. Then Rapahel ſaid to Tobias; thou knoweſt brother, how thou didſt leave thy father; let us haſt before thy wife, and prepare the houſe; and take in thine hand the Gaul of the Fiſh. So they went their way, and the Dog went after them. I wonder there is no Aſterisk or finger in the margent pointing to the place, for it is Valde Notabile; and then you could not have ſo eaſily over looked it. Give me leave, for I think it innocent and harmleſs, and I am ſure 'tis opportune, to impart unto you a merriment. I once heard a young Lord (now a great and grave Senator) whoſe Tongue is excellently well hung, who to exerciſe his faculty of ſpeaking, would needs take upon him to preach Extempore (as he ſaid but too looſly,) and what ſhould be his Text, but this very verſe, though not exactly repeated to a letter, but in this manner, So Tobit went out, and his dog followed him. I remember his firſt work was to make inquiry, for he ſaid it was of great importance, What kind of Dog this might be, whether a Spaniel, Gray-hound, Water-dog, or ſome other: for from hence ſaid he, we may very probably find out the temper and genious of his Maſter. If this Dog were a Spaniel, then young Tobit in all likelihood was a Gentleman, and one who delighted in Hawking; but why then do we not read of an Hawk on his fiſt, as well as a dog at his heel? If this dog were a Grayhound, then young Tobit took his pleaſure in Courſing: if this dog were a water-Spaniel, then young Tobit's recreation was Ducking. But yet perhaps the dog was none of all theſe, but rather a meer Pedlars-Cur; for it is ſaid, the dog followed after him, juſt like ſuch a Cur; for as for the forementioned they are ſeen to be more Aiery, metalſom and ſprightly than heavily to follow after, but Range up and down the fields far from their Maſters feet, and hunt after prey; and ſuch a dog might well ſute with his Maſters mean condition for the preſent, becauſe his Mother was but a kind of Chair-woman, as old Tobit the Father reports of her, Chap. 2. v. 11. And my Wife Anna did take womans work to do, by which ſhe earned her livelihood, v. 14. This and much more was his Oratory, which I liſt not further to repeat, and the rather, becauſe what I have ſaid already, is indeed more than ſufficient to convince you of your miſtake about Tobit and his dog. But beſides, I have ſeveral doubts ſtill remaining concerning old Tobit the Father, and young Tobit the Son; which how they can be ſolved, and received by others, as true and real, do utterly mate and non plus my thoughts.
Concerning old Tobit the Father we read thus, Chap. 2.v. 9. The ſame night I returned from the burial, C. 2. v. 4.10and ſlept by the Wall of my Court-yard, being polluted, and my face was uncovered; and I knew not that there were ſparrows in the wall, and mine eyes being open, the ſparrows muted warm dung into mine eyes, and a whiteneſs came into mine eyes; whereby he became blind. If he ſlept, how came it to paſs that his eyes were open? I have heard this to be the property of an hare (but I ſuppoſe it a vulgar error) and of nothing elſe living upon the earth. But though the good man ſlept with his eyes open, how could two ſparrows joyn by a Conſpiracy againſt him to make him blind? One ſparrow could not work him this miſchief alone by its ſingle muting; what did they ſecretly whiſper, and ſoby conſent, in one and the ſame moment, turn up their tailes, and let fall this into one eye, and that into the other, and put them out together? Oh hateful unhappy birds! elſe though ſuch a ſhrewd miſchance had befallen one of his eyes, yet the other might have been preſerved: ſurely he would have been more watchful for the future, after he had underſtood the danger of it.
Concerning young Tobit the Son we read thus, Chap. 6. 1, 2, 3. And as they went on their journey, they came in the evening to the River Tigris, and they lodged there, and when the young man went down to waſh himſelf, a fiſh leaped out of the River, and would have devoured him; then the Angel (his ſervant Raphael) ſaid unto him, take the fiſh; and the young man laid hold of the fiſh, and drew it to land. This was a ſtrangebold fiſh to forſake its own Element to devour a man.Forté Hippopotamus, ſaith Grotius upon the place: but it is forty to one that it was not; ſince that kind of water-beaſt (for ſo it may be called rather then a fiſh) is reported to live only in the River Nile, *Plinie in his natural hiſtory having ſpoken of the Crocodile, ſaith further, Major altitudine in eodem Nilo Bellua hippopotamus editur caudâ & dentibus aprorum, tergorisad ſcuta galeaſque impenetrabilis.and not in Tigris; and beſides it is of greater bigneſs and fierceneſs, than tamely to be laid hold on by the hand of any, and brought to land; only our young Tobit's excepted; who had the ſtrength and valour to atchive this great enterprize. Well; drawn this fiſh is upon the bank, and by the appointment of the ſervant (for here the man commands the Maſter) it is gutted, or rather unbowelled, the heart, liver, and gaul being taken out, and carefully preſerved, v. 4. And not without cauſe, for in due time they will be found to be of an aſtoniſhing quality and vertue, working wonders. All the Tetragammatons, Soleo-terrenos, withall other the terrible hard names boaſted of by your mountebanks, are not to be named the ſame day with them, as you ſhall hear, v. 6. Then the young man ſaid to the Angel, to what uſe is the heart, the liver, and Gall of the fiſh? And he ſaid unto him, Touching the heart and the liver, if a Devil, or any evil Spirit trouble any, we muſt make a ſmoak thereof before the man or the woman, and the party ſhall be no more vexed: as for the Gall it is good to anoint a man that hath whiteneſs in his eyes, and he ſhall be healed. This is repeated again, v. 16. When thou ſhalt come into the marriage Chamber, thou ſhalt take the Aſhes of perfume, and ſhalt lay upon them ſome of the heart and liver of the fiſh, and ſhalt make a ſmoak with it: and the Devil ſhall ſmel it, and and flee away, and never come again anymore. The reaſon of this (as you know) was thus; a Match was reſolved upon by the Angel between young Tobit and a young Virgin that was lov'd by a devil;C.p. 3. v. 3. I aſſure you by all the faith of Apocrypha the devil Aſmodoeus, for that is his name, was deſperately in love with her, and as a moſt jealous lover impatient of Rivals, had murdered and torn in peices, no leſs then ſeven men one after another, for pretending unto her; for ſo her father Raguel like an honeſt good man, plainly told this ignorant wooer (as he ſuppoſed) when he firſt brake his mind to him about the buneſs. Chap. 7. v. 10. And Raguel ſaid to Tobias it is meet, that thou ſhouldeſt marry my Daughter; nevertheleſs I will declare unto thee the truth; I have given my daughter in marriage to ſeven men, who dyed that night they came in unto her. For a wicked Spirit loved her. Chap. 6.14. And whoſoever offered to touch her was ſure to go to pot for it. Nevertheleſs to this frightful, fatal, and deadly bride young Tobit is deſigned and reſolved to be the bridegroom: but how comes he to be ſo hardy and adventrous? becauſe he had the heart and liver of the foreſaid fiſh in a readineſs by him, as a ſure and ſafe amulet to fray away the foul fiend, and ſend him packing. I dare be bold to ſay, the devil of Maſcon was not, as he ſaid himſelf, more terrified with the Croſs and Holy water, then this evil Spirit with the ſmoak, ariſing from the heart and liver of that watery monſter. For ſo we read it, Chap. 8. v. 1. And when they had ſupped, they brought Tobias in unto her; and as he went, he remembred the words of Raphael, and took the Aſhes of the perfumes, and put the heart and the liver of the fiſh thereupon, and made a ſmoak therewith; the which ſmel, when the evil Spirit had ſmelled, he fled into the uttermoſt parts of Egypt, and the Angel bound him. Surely this ſmoak was a moſt Helliſh fogg, darker than ever any from the bottomleſs pit; and this ſmel a moſt diveliſh ſtrong ſmel to out-ſtink the devil, and put him thus to flight; no Aſſa Foetida could be a thouſand part near ſo noiſome. It is commonly reported, that when the devil appears and frights people, at his departure for a farewell, he leaves an horrible Sulphureous ſtink behind him, ready to poyſon all in the room: but here was a more dreadful damnable breath, ſo that old nick the ſtinker was afraid to be poiſoned himſelf, and forced to hurry away, and remove farther off at a diſtance ſufficient, as will preſently appear. But in the interim I wonder how the Bride and the Bridegroom could abide by it? Yet poſſibly they had the cunning to ſtop their Noſes, until the ſmoak and ſmel was paſt and vaniſhed; and ſo might the devil, if he had not been a ſtark fool. A ſilly Devil indeed, to be frighted with ſmoak, and to be driven from his Amaſia with a ſmel! could he not (as I have ſaid) have ſtopped his noſe, and kept out the ſtink? Could he not have gone and opened the window for a little while, and relieved himſelf with the freſh and ſweet Air? could he not have ſmelled out before hand what was conſulted againſt him? could he not have provided himſelf with a counter-charm? could he not have furniſhed himſelf with ſome rare civet, musk, or other ſuch like perfume on the knob of his ſtaff: by whoſe ſweet and odoriferous ſent, he might eaſily have ſecured himſelf from thoſe baneful and killing Exhalations, and not received the leaſt dammage from them? Had he not been a meer fungus and dolt of a devil, he would have ſet his brains a work, and tryed a thouſand concluſions before he would have ſo meekly and patiently parted with his admired adored Miſtreſs; and left her in the boſome, and embraces of a ſtranger before his eyes. Yet poſſibly there might be an Antipathy, and a particular averſion in his nature againſt this foul fetour and venemous vapour; which therefore no ſooner did ſteam into his noſtrils but preſently put him into a cold ſweat, and made his face look as pale as a white cloth. Alas poor Devil! What would you have him to do? he was ready to have fallen down into a ſown; therefore he had no remedy, as ſoon as ever he came to himſelf, but to flie for his life. But whether? the Text ſaith,6.7. V. …. he fled to the uttermoſt parts of Egypt. From whence? From Ecbatane. Ecbatane was the place where the great exploit was acted, a City of the Medes: Media is a country not far from the Caſpian Sea; between which and Egypt lieth all Aſſyria, and all the deſarts of Arabia, and the Red-Sea, and then the hither moſt parts of Egypt, and then over Nilus, and then the uttermoſt parts of Egypt—thither Aſmodeus fled and took Sanctuary in montanis illis locis quibus Aegyptus a Lybia dirimitur, in thoſe vaſt range of mountaines, by which Egypt and Lybia are divided. This was an huge long poſt, above a thouſand Miles, as I gueſs, in a right line; but how many windings and turnings he made, whether he went by the ſtring or the bow, who knows? Aſmodeus certainly wanted his box of ſnuſh; for had he but ſoundly ſneezed, it would have perfectly cleared his noſe of that peſtilent whiff, without going the hundred part of ſuch a tedious journy. But I would gladly be informed how, and in what manner this evil Spirit fled? whether by any Magical operation he changed himſelf into the ſhape of any Beaſt, Dromedary, Gray-hound or the like? or whether he changed himſelf into the ſhape of any Fowl, Stork, long wing'd Hawk or the like? or whether into the ſhape of an Oſtrich, and ſo by the help both of wings and heeles together ran faſter and ſwifter then any racehorſe, ſtraining out himſelf to the greateſt ſpeed to beat his fellow? Or if he continued in his old form without Metamorphoſie, whether he went on horſe-back, or in a Chariot, or made uſe of any other vehicle for his more ſuddain paſſage? well; though we know not the manner how, yet the place whether he fled for ſhelter, is plainly told us, the uttermoſt parts of Egypt; ſo great was his fright, that he durſt never ſtand ſtill nor look back until he was at that diſtance, and fully recovered that Aſylum. And yet his peril is not paſt; for no ſooner ſtood he ſtill, but the Angel bound him. Alas poor Aſmodeus, this was very ſevere after ſuch ſore Travail! but Aſmodeus muſt patiently endure it: for bound he was, not able to move hand or foot, not able to ſtir or turn himſelf this way or another; but perhaps continue in the ſame place and poſture unto this day. But it is now more than high time to be ſerious; Has therefore a Spirit fleſh and bones? our Saviour ſaith, it hath not. Has a Spirit corporal parts, and bodily members? has a devil the Organs of carnal ſenſe? has he eyes to ſee, as man ſeeth? has he ears to hear, as man heareth? has he fingers to touch, as man toucheth? has he a palat to taſte, as man taſteth? or has he a noſe to ſmel, as man ſmelleth? Thou ſhalt make a ſmoak with the liver and heart of the fiſh, and the devil ſhall ſmel it, and flee away, very true: his ſmelling and fleeing, are both of the ſame certainty; no ſooner did he one, but he did the other alſo. But is the devil capable of ſmelling? even as much as the great huge ſtone (in an open ſtreet of the Town, wherein I was born) is capable of hearing: whereof it was commonly ſaid, as I well remember, to poor little Children, That whenſoever it heard the Clock ſtrike twelve it turned thrice round; and it was puzling enough to them. But is it poſſible for ſmoak or any material fume to affect, and excruciate an immaterial and ſpiritual being or eſſence, or put ſuch an exiſtency under the leaſt conſternation? Oh how does the devil laugh behind the curtain! Oh how is he pleaſed, that ſuch ludicrous repreſentations, and ridiculous ſtories ſhould be given out and credited concerning himſelf! Here is the old heatheniſh Doctrine revived and continued under Goſpel light (which teacheth us better things) of the Gods or Daimons their burning in love, their burning in filthy lust, with young beautiful Virgins and women; as Jupiter was deeply in love with Danae the daughter of Acriſius, Apollo with Daphne the daughter of Peneus, and others in like manner: So here this Daimon or Devil is with Sarah the daughter of Raguel. An evil Spirit loveth her, ſaith Tobias unto Raphael, when he firſt mentioned the match unto him, Chap. 6. v. 14. But why? becauſe the maid was fair and witty, v. 12. So here again we have the Doctrine of binding of Spirits, and of keeping them from walking and haunting our houſes and chambers, with ſeveral other Ethnick poetical tales. All which, how they may admit of a fair ſolution from being pure fable, and impure impoſture and be reconciled to truth and reality as to matter of fact, you have it in a readineſs; and as for all objections to the contrary you have promiſed to conſider. In the interim I would gladly learn what profit, and edification can be propounded to the people in reading, and in hearing the whole Legend of Tobit, ſo likewiſe of Judith, Bell and the Dragon and the reſt, which you ſay are fit to be read in the Chriſtian Aſſembly? Shall this Chriſtian aſſembly believe what is read unto them, or ſhall they not believe? If they believe, their minds are corrupted from the truth, and they believe lyes: if they believe not, what ſpiritual good and advantage can they reap and receive from ſuch light, frothy, vain, yea even almoſt defiling Romances? but that ſuch ſtuff (to uſe your own word in another Caſe) ſuch paultry pitiful ſtuff ſhould be named and avouched to ſerve for inſtruction, comfort, and reproof as the Parables of our Saviour do, filles me with wonder and aſtoniſhment. What, ſhall the fable of the Virgin, ſweet-heart, and Miſs to the Devil, who flew ſeveral innocent perſons in the nuptial chamber, leſt they ſhould touch her, ſerve as much for inſtruction as the Parable of our Saviour, concerning the Ten Virgins, whereof five were wiſe and five fooliſh, and theſe laſt ſhut out, and eternally repudiated for want of watchfulneſs and due preparation? Or as the parable of our Saviour, concerning a certain King making a Marriage for his Son, and inviting many to the wedding, who would not come, but ſpightfully intreated the Meſſengers; and were therefore deſtroyed and their city burnt up? What, ſhall the fable of the ſmoak, and fuliginous ſteam from the heart and liver of the fiſh frighting, and quite routing the devil, ſerve for Conſolation as the Parable of our Saviour, concerningthe ſtrong man armed and keeping the Palace, yet overcome and caſt out by a ſtronger than himſelf? Or like that Parable of our Saviour (for ſo I think it may be ſtiled) when he ſaid to his Diſciples, I beheld Satan as lightening fall from heaven; behold I give you power to tread on Serpents, and Scorpions,… 12.15. and over all the power of the enemy. What ſhall the Condeſcenſion of Raphael one of the ſeven holy Angels, which preſent the prayers of the Saints, and which go in and out before the glory of the Holy one, ſhall I ſay his ſtooping down to become a ſerving man to young Tobias; or the humility reported of Raguel his mother, in taking woman's work to do; ſerve for reproof to thoſe proud and haughty ones, who will not ſtoop down to the loweſt and meaneſt ſervices, for the good of others, as the infinite abaſement of our bleſſed Saviour, when be made himſelf of no reputation, but took upon him the form of a ſervant; and when he took a towel and girded himſelf, poured water into a baſon, waſhed his diſciples feet, and wiped them with the towel wherewith he was girded? Certainly ſuch compariſons are not only odious, but moſt execrable and accurſed. Wherefore what you have here ſpoken and uttered, was only I hope in a Tranſport of indiſcret zeal to your cauſe in hand, and that foreign your ſecond and more conſiderate thoughts will bring you into a better underſtanding. God grant it. Amen.
A word or two more to my laſt Confuter, and I have done.
Sir, In your large introduction towards the cloſe of it, you tax me as one guilty of Sacriledge, and who, when time was, according to common fame, would have greedily ſwallowed down a Steeple, only I could not do it either with the ſpire downward, leſt it ſhould have pricked my Conſcience, nor with the Tower downwards, leſt the weather Cock ſhould have appeared at the Top, and ſhewn how the wind blew: a very witty conceit, I promiſe you. And then you charge the whole generation of Non-conformiſts, as making no ſcruple of ſwallowing Church and Church Lands; yea you ſay, They have already, if they be not belied (that is well put in) divided the ſpoil, and taken into their poſſeſſion the houſes of God, by a Sacrilegious prolepſin. But as for you and your party, ye can waſh you hands in innocency from any thing, every thing of like imputation, and nothing can tempt you to ſuch an hainous wickedneſs. Wherefore I would humbly and peaceably enquire of you, Whether Conformiſts may not be Sacrilegious as well as Non-conformiſts? or rather, let this be the little queſtion, Whether perſons may not be guilty of Sacriledge, that are ſtampt with a Sacerdotal Character as well as any other? Sacriledge in the Greek is foreign, which properly ſignifies a prey or a making of a prey of holy things. The Latine word Saecrilegium ſignifies a ſtealing of ſacred things: Sacrilegium, ſay ſome, is quaſi ſacrilaedium, the violation, the abuſe, the hurt of what is hallowed and devoted. From all; this may be a diſcription of it, viz. Sacriledge is the alienating and wreſting of things devoted, and ſet apart to holy and ſacred uſes and ends, unto other, and contrary purpoſes. Here therefore we muſt enquire, to what uſes and ends the wealth, riches and the great revenues of the Church, were given and granted primarily and principally from God himſelf, and ſecondarily from the piety and charity of bountiful benefactours? and then we muſt ſearch again, whether they are piouſly and punctually appropriated to thoſe uſes, and expended upon thoſe ends, and not miſuſed any other way? Church riches, I take it pro confeſſo, were given and granted to carry on Church work. Now what is Church work, I mean eminently ſuch, but animarum cura, a looking diligently to the Souls of men, that they may not miſcarry and periſh eternally? Church work is to inſtruct the people, ſhewing them the way they are to walk in, and the thing they are to do. Church work is by a ſedulous ſtudy and endeavour in Word, Doctrine, Example, Prayer, and often renewed Exhortation to turn people from darkneſs to light, from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive forgiveneſs of ſins, and an inheritance among thoſe that are ſanctified by the faith of Chriſt. Church work is to bring people to the knowledg and obedience of the truth, to make them a people fitted for the Lord, to put them in a due capacity to ſerve him in this world, and to enjoy him in the world to come. Church men therefore who reap the harveſt of theſe donations, who poſſeſs this wealth, and divide theſe Revenues among themſelves, ought wholly to give themſelves unto this ſervice, and make the ſaving of precious Souls, and gaining them to Chriſt, their main work and buſineſs. But now is this their chief ſtudy and intendment? is this their conſtant imploy and negotiation? do they look upon themſelves as intruſted and honoured with Church-Offices, maintained and enriched with Church-goods to proſecute and expedite this high deſign, and moſt important affair with a moſt watchful and unwearied ſolicitude? O Ʋtinam would to God there were ſuch an heart in them, but I am afraid it is far otherwiſe! Do we not ſee great names in the Church accumulating living upon living, even the fatteſt benefices, and ſome of them Dean's, and Prebend's places beſides to the value of three, four, five, Six hundred pounds per annum and more, and yet are never ſatisfied. They run greedily after the errour of Balaam for a reward. O ſordid Covetouſneſs utterly beneath the height, and ſublimity of raiſed winds! but how much abhorrent is it from the rare and heavenly philoſophy of the Goſpel, which ſaith, love not the World, nor the things of this World; feed the flock of God—not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind—and when the chief Shepherd ſhall appear, ye ſhall receive a Crown of glory, which fadeth not away. True and good Church-men ſhould be better verſed in theſe, and in the like Golden ſayings of the Spirit, than baſely to covet ſuch an evil covetouſneſs, which caſteth no little ſhame and reproach upon their perſons and profeſſion. What ſhall all your generous ſtudies, and great acquirements of learning, for which ye are renowned and dignified, teach you no other leſſon, but inhiare pecuniae to queſt after mony, quarry upon the droſs and dung of this world, and load your ſelves with thick clay! Surely you underſtand higher matters. The Sons of the earth, who never knew more than the cart and plough, can attain to this excellency, almoſt as well as your ſelves: conformity therefore here is a moſt debaſing deformity, which ye ought to reject with an holy haughtineſs of diſdain. And the rather, becauſe herein alſo ye are very injurious and grievous Oppreſſours. Of whom? Even of your fellow brethren, the Tribe of Levi; not ſuffering them to have any lot, ſhare, and portion with you in the good things of the Church, againſt all right and equity. Ye graſp and run away with all, and they can get nothing to their great diſcouragement. How many ſad complaints have theſe ears of mine heard againſt Pluralities, from the mouths of thoſe that are as conforming, and ſome of them as meriting as your ſelves! They wait and wait till their hearts ake, even as the impotent and lame at the Pool of Betheſda, for the ſtirring of the waters, I mean for an opportunity of preferment, but in vain; for no ſooner can the bleſſed Angel appear, any ſuch place known to be vacant, but another inſtantly ſteppeth in before them, and bereaves them of their hope. Some famed Doctor or Court-favourite like the ſharp eyed Eagle ſeeth the prey afar of, Job. 39.…9.truſſeth it in his talons, and ſwiftly hurries it away to his former heap; while theſe poor wretches lie languiſhing with vexing diſpair in their continual diſappointments. The heart of man is deceitful, yet ſurely if I can know any thing by my ſelf, were I in your ſtead, I would have ſo much goodneſs and kindneſs, for thoſe of mine own coat and function, as to be willing they ſhould live by me, yea, and live comfortably upon the altar as well as my ſelf, according to the mind and appointment of the firſt Donour in the caſe. I would not be an Oppreſſour but a comforter unto them, ſeeking by all good ways and means to keep them up in heart and countenance, and ſtrengthen their hands in the work before them. But to return to our purpoſe. What ſignal ſervice do ſuch great Doctors, and Pluraliſts perform unto God and his Church? what uſe do they make of their vaſt incomes and ſalaries? how do they anſwer the truſt repoſed in them? how good and faithful are they in their Steward-ſhip? we ſee them rem facere purchaſing eſtates, we ſee them riding up and down with coach and horſes in great pomp and glory. But is nothing more expected from them? is this the end of the Church's bounty and liberality? their wages plainly point out to another work, as moſt neceſſary incumbent upon them without diſpenſation; which yet they can eaſily obtain to their great eaſe and content. As for teaching the people the good knowledg of God, and a conſtant conſcientious inſtructing them in the way of Salvation, they can do it by a Proxy. It is enough for ſome of them, to eat of the fat and drink of the ſweet, while others labour in the word and doctrine; to fleece the flock, while others feed them. But now who are their under-ſhepherds? who their ſubſtitutes, and under-feeders? many of them ſorry feeders, God wot! pitiful hirelings, whoſe ſalaries are ſo ſmal, as utterly to diſcourage and diſenable them, from any chearful, and vigorous attending upon ſacred things: Alas ſeveral of them are neceſſitated, to turn petty▪ſcriveners writing bills and bonds, and ſtoop to ſuch ſervile offices to patch up a livelihood. What reverence and honour can be paid to ſuch perſons by the people; which is moſt abſolutely neceſſary for the ſucceſs of their Miniſtry? Hobb and John the meaneſt plowman in the Pariſh, is ready to behave himſelf insolently againſt them, and thinks himſelf as good a man, as he who talks to him out of the Pulpit; why! he is but the poor Curate, and not the principal man; he is but the Uſher and the School-boys regard him not, for the Maſter, whom they only fear and reverence, is abſent and elſewhere. A noble Lord, then lately returned from his long travail, among other things told me, that the French did wonderfully vilifie, and ſet at naught ſuch ſubſtitutes ſent amongſt them to officiate from the Lord Abbots, and great Clergy-men, ſtyling them commonly, Poures Diables, Poor Devils, in ſcorn and deriſion. But now ſhall theſe be thought worthy to be the Embaſſadours of God, and the Repreſentatives of Chriſt? can theſe rule over the houſe of God? can theſe be ſuppoſed to have a throne in the hearts of the people, and to ſpeak unto them with all authority and power? Alas their perſons are vile, their preaching vaine, and their oratory contemptible! Oh what diſſervice, inſtead of ſervice, is hereby done unto Chriſt and his Church! Oh how are the people hereby prompted to atheiſm and impenitency, and ſo ſent thronging to Hell, rather than awfully awakened with fear and repentance, and ſo brought home unto God! I wonder conſcience flies not in the face of ſome perſons concerned; who cannot but be ſenſible, that what I now write in great meaſure is according to truth. I would not bring ſuch guilt of the blood of Souls upon mine own Soul, to reap the whole profit now in the hands of all the Church-men of England put together. But in the interim, are not they guilty of Sacriledge? I think, if any other, theſe may be arraigned for it with a witneſs, and ſtand charged with it in a moſt notorious manner. Suppoſe a Knight, or Gentleman, has a Parſonage or Living in his gift, of two or three hundred pounds per annum; he puts in a Parſon or Miniſter, but yet by ſome clancular pact and condition, reſerves a third of the profits to himſelf; the Clerk preſented is of moſt approved abilities for the place, and carries himſelf worthily in it. Notwithſtanding, if this thing be known, the Patron ſhall be ſharply, and ſeverely cenſured, as one that hath unpardonably violated the rights of the Church, and bainous Sacriledge ſhall be imputed to him; the poor Miniſter ſhall be outed for Simony, and another will quickly force in upon the Premiſes. But who is the man? perhaps ſome great Doctor, who has ſeveral Church-promotions already, but he muſt, and will have another, ſince it falls ſo luckily in his way. Well; he comes, and according to Law takes full and quiet poſſeſſion; but then he being elſewhere richly accommodated, and pleaſantly ſeated, cannot think of removing, but ſends his Curate to do the work for him; and for his Salary allows him not half ſo much, as the true Patron did the former Incumbent: he has found out a Ten pound Levite, and that ſhall ſuffice, all the reſt muſt come to his own purſe, to keep up his port, and for other certain uſes beſt known to himſelf; nevertheleſs here is nothing of Sacriledge in the caſe; who dares to think, or ſpeak ſuch a word? No, here is nothing but what is right and praiſe-worthy in the whole procedure. Fye upon it! How does covetouſneſs blind our eyes? How does evil cuſtom impoſe upon our reaſon and judgment? is it odious and deteſtable Sacriledge in one perſon, and not in another? can meerly taking holy Orders, take away the name and thing of what we call Sacriledge? can the putting on a canonical habit, put off all guilt and demerit in that kind? then let the aforeſaid Knight, or Gentleman, be made a Clergy-man, and immediately he is rectus in Curia, and no longer Sacrilegious. Be not deceived, God is not mocked. To conclude, the Curate, or perſon ſubſtituted, who ever he be, that actually performs the office, and does the duty of the Miniſter, either he is worthy or elſe he is unworthy of the place. If he be unworthy, then much more unworthy you to thruſt ſuch an unable and unmeet man upon the people, to their apparent ruin and deſtruction. He ſaid haughtily like himſelf, Viderit utilitas, hang gain, I will look to mine honour: and you ſay in your actions, not only ſordidly but impiouſly. Viderint animae, let Souls be damn'd if they will; I muſt and will look to my gain, and to have a good income. But if he be worthy, then the dues and profits ariſing from the ſaid place, both by the Law of God, and of the Land (if pure juſtice and right might not be wreſted from its direct and firſt intention) do, ipſo facto, belong unto the ſaid Miniſter or Curate, as in the reward of his ſervice; and I think it both oppreſſion and ſacriledge, by any plea or pretext (though of being legally the Rector or Parſon of the pariſh) to detain them from him. Thus much in requital, for your charge of Sacriledge, and my ſwallowing down a Steeple, when time was, with the Spire upward or downward, whether you pleaſe. Farewell.
FINIS.
End of the text · Richard Baxter, The Nonconformists Advocate (1680)