That are but natural Effects
Of Satan's Malice, and his Sects,
Thofe Spider-Saints, that hang by Threads
Spun out o'th' Entrails of their Heads.
Sir, quoth the Voice, that may as true
And properly be faid of you;
Whose Talents may compare with either,
Or both the other put together.
For all the Independants do
Is only what you forc'd 'em to.
You, who are not content alone
With Tricks to put the Devil down,
But must have Armies rais'd, to back
The Gospel-work you undertake:
As if Artillery, and Edge-tools
Were th' only Engines to fave Souls,
While He, poor Devil, has no Pow'r
By force to run down and devour;
Has ne'er a Claffis, cannot fentence
To Stools, or Poundage of Repentance'
Is ty'd up only to Defign,
T' intice, and tempt, and undermine:
In which you all his Arts out doons zan al
And prove your felves his Betters too.d odaras
Hence 'tis Poffeffions do lefs evilion
Than mere Temptations of the Devil,
Which all the horrid ft Action's done,
Are charg'd in Courts of Law upon;⠀⠀
Because, unless you help the Elf, 11
He can do little of himself;
And therefore where he's beft Paffest,
Acts most against his Intereft;misel
Surprizes none but those wh? have Priests
To turn him out, and Exorcifts,
Supply'd with Spiritual Provifion,
And Magazines of Ammunition,
With Croffes, Relicks, Crucifixes,
Beads, Pictures, Rofaries, and Pixes,
The Tools of working out Salvation
By meer Mechanick Operation,
With Holy Water, like a Sluce,
To overflow all Avenues.
But those wh' are utterly unarm'd
T' oppose his Entrance if he ftorm'd,
He never offers to furprize,
Altho his falfeft Enemies;
But is content to be their Drudge,
And on their Errands glad to trudge.
For where are all your Forfeitures
Intrusted in fafe Hands, but ours?
Who are but Jailours of your Holes
And Dungeons, where you clap up Souls;
Like Under-keepers, turn the Keys
T' your Mittimus Anathema's,
And never boggle to restore
The Members you deliver o'er
Upon Demand, with fairer Juftice
Than all your Covenanting Trustees;
Unless to punish them the worse,
You put them in the Sec'lar Pow'rs
And pass their Souls, as fome demife
The fame Estate in Mortgage twice,
When to a legal Utlegation
You turn your Excommunication,
And for a Groat unpaid that's due,
Diftrain on Soul and Body too.
Thought he, 'Tis no mean part of Civil
State-Prudence, to cajole the Devil,
And not to handle him too rough,
When h' has us in his Cloven Hoof.
'Tis true, quoth he, that Intercourse
Has pafs'd between your Friends and ours;
That as you trust us, in our way,
To raise your Members, and to lay,
We fend
you others of our own,
Denounc'd to hang themselves or drown,
Or frighted with our Oratory,
To leap down headlong many a Story:
Have us'd all Means to propagate
Your mighty Interests of State,
Laid out our Spiritual Gifts to further
Your great Designs of Rage and Murther.
For if the Saints are nam'd from Blood,
We onl' have made that Title good:
And if it were but in our Power,
We fhou'd not fcruple to do more,
And not be half a Soul behind
Of all Diffenters of Mankind.
Right, quoth the Voice, and as I fcorn To be ungrateful in Return.
Of all thofe kind good Offices,
I'll free you out of this Distress,
And fet you down in Safety, where,
It is no time to tell you here.
The Cock crows, and the Morn grows on,
When 'tis decreed I must be gone :
And if I leave you here till day,
You'll find it hard to get away.
With that the Spirit grop'd about
To find th' Inchanted Heroe out,
And try'd with hafte to lift him up;
But found his Forlorn Hope, his Crup,
Unferviceable with Kicks and Blows
Receiv'd from heardned-hearted Foes.
He thought to drag him by the Heels,
Like Gresham Carts, with Legs for wheels.
But Fear, that fooneft cures those Sores,
In danger of Relapse to worse,
Came in t'affift him with its Aid,
And up his finking Veffel weigh'd.
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