Asse upon asse being a collection of several pamphlets written for and against the author of The asses complaint against Balaam, or, The cry of the country against ignorant and scandalous ministers : together with some choice observations upon them all / by Leonard Blunt ...

THE Asses complaint against Balaam; Or the Cry of the COUNTREY AGAINST Ignorant and Scandalous Ministers.

To the Reverend Bishops.

YE mitred Members of the House of Peers, The Kings Churchwardens, and Gods Over∣seers, Fathers in Christ, we your poor children cry▪ Oh give us Bread of life, or else we die. For we are burd'ned with our old Sir Johns, Who when we ask for Bread do give us stones; And only cant a Homily or two, Which Dawes and Parrots may be taught to do; Drunkards Canonical, Ʋnhallowed Bears, That name God oftner in their oaths then prayers. Into what darkness will our Church be hurl'd, If such as these be call'd The light o'th' World? These that have nought to prove themselves de∣vout, Save only this, That Cromwell turn'd them out.

Mistake us not we do not mean those loyal And learned soules, who in the fiery tryal Suffer'd for King and Conscience sake, let such▪ Have double Honour, we shall ne're think much; But this our tender conscience disapproves, That Ravens should return as well as Doves; And croak in pulpits, once again to bring A second Judgement on our Church and King. Though England doth not fear another losse, 'Cause God hath burn'd his Rods at Charing Crosse; Yet Clergy sins may call him to the Door Ev'n him who whip'd and scourg'd them out before. Oh therefore ye that read the sacred Laws Eject their Persons, and disown their cause: God & the King have both condemn'd this crew, Then let them not be patroniz'd by you. 'Tis not their Cassocks, nor their Surplices, We quarrel at, there is no hurt in these; We own their Decency, yet every Fool Cannot be call'd a Monk that weares a Cowle; Were grace & learning wanting, (by your leaves,) We would not pin our faith on your Lawn Sleeves; 'Tis Aarons breastplate, and those sacred words Become a Churchman best, THAT THAT my Lords, Which pious Baxter makes his livery, Would all our Curates were but such as he! Pardon my Lords, we do not make this stir, To vindicate the factious Presbyter;

We hate his wayes, and equally disown The zealous Rebell as the Idle Drone; And beg as oft to be deliver'd from The Kirk of Scotland, as the Sea of Rome; We pray for Bishops too, Oh may ye stand To heal the sad distractions of the Land; Then give us Priests, Loyal and painfull too, To give to Caesar, and to us our due. God save King Charles our Christian faiths De∣fender, And bring Religion to its wonted Splendour.