The ceremony-monger his character in five chapters ... with some remarks (in the introduction) upon the new-star-chamber, or late course of the Court of King's Bench, of the nature of a libel, and scandalum magnatum, and in conclusion, hinting at some mathematical untruths and escapes in the common-prayer book, both as to doctrine and discipline, and what bishops, were, are, and should be, and concerning ordination, humbly proposed to the consideration of the Parliament / by E. Hickeringill ...

CHAP. III. Of the Reading-Dons of the Pulpit.

THis Ecclesiastical Sophister, is a true Son of the Church of England, (that ever was) and devoted to her Service, (as in Duty bound) for she gave him freely all the Devotion he has, namely, the Common-Prayer-Book and the Homilies: which are very good things to all, but to him a God, (a Creator) by which as a Church-man (though as lean and cadaverous as a Church-Mouse,) he lives and moves, and has his being.

But as true a Son of the Church as he is, yet he is a Bastard Divine, but made a Denizon Ecclesiastick, and free of the Church by the King, and (notwithstanding his spurious Original) Legitimated and made ca∣pable of Succession in Church-Lands, Honours and Dignities, by Act of Parliament. viz. the Act of Uniformity In England; In England, (I say) for in the whole Protestant World, That Act has no Paralel, nor this fellow (I characteriz:) any Fellow in the whole Christian World, but such as himself; he is a None such all the World over, in all Church∣es, except what he calls, (and he may well speak well of her) the most Incomparable Church of England; not only the Protestants all the world over, but the very Papists, nay, the very Stage-players would kick him out, the very Boys and Wenches there, nay, School-Boys, must say their Parts better, or they are sure to be whip'd for't.

Nay, the Stage Players would have no Customers (except they could get Penal Laws, and a Constable, A Jaylor and Apparitor, to drive them by Shoales to the Play House) if they should admit any such dull Tools and Actors, that could not say a Word without Book; but must read every Word they say, or else they are dumb: For, take away the Play-Book, or No••es, and they are mute as Fish; the Play is at an end, though you have paid your Money. (some small note indeed) or prompter the best may need sometimes, or some Breviate:) even so my Reading Don Ecclesi∣astical is a noteless Fellow without his Notes, and worse than an Ass (for he can Bray without book) nay, worse than a Peacok; for he can yawl against Rain) but this Gay Fowl has nothing that speaks him divine, but his gay out 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

The Propher Eztkiel calls him Dumb-Dog that cannot bark; meaning not that these Dumb Prophets or Dumb-dogs had no Tongue, and could make no barking Noise; but when he seeth the Sword or a Thief coming he giveth no warning, but being senceless and noteless, is therefore a dumb dog.

For he (poor Heart!) has his Lesion before him, there is his stint, like a Horse in a Mill; he cannot go out of the Track, if he does, he must leav•• work: if the Notes drop out of the Pulpit, or the Candles go out, or the Spectacles fall down from his Nose, or a dark day, or any such woful disaster befal him, his busi••eis is done, he needs no Bishop to silence him; Come, Sir, you may (even) come down, out of the Pulpit, The Play is done.

N••y, his very Prayers to Alrighty God in the Pulpit, he is glad to read them too, except perhaps he has (like a Pariot) got a few words by ••ote, which all the people of the Church can say as well as himself; for like a Turn-spit Dog in a Wheel, he keeps ado, but makes no Pro∣gress.

For (alas! for Shame and Sorrow!) how should he speak to God, who is a Spirit, From his Heart or Spirit; or to the People's Hearts, that never had any Divinity in his Head or Heart: It is sufficient that he has It in the Book of Homilles, or in his Notes (stylo novo) of another Ser∣mon book that is more in Yogue and 〈◊〉〈◊〉, because more adapted to our present Language and Age••

Stole! said I, he'll bring his Action against me, of Scandalum magnatum perhaps; but I'll prevent him, for I recant.

He did not steal his Sermon, nor Sermon Notes, for they were his own upon a double account; First, because he lawfully bought and paid for the••, six pence a piece; witness, the Book seller: Secondly, because all the Sermons in Print are dedicated to him: To the Reader—All—To the Reader, & sometimes, to Coaks him out of six pence. To the curteous Reader.

If Parents have a Ricketty Son, and crook'd legg'd, and Baker-knee'd; he'll serve to make a Parson, his Cassock will hide his Legs: Is the poor Child Pur-blind also? He'll serve to make a Parson say his Parents, If he have but Eye enough to spy Advent Sunday, the day of the Month, and the first and second Lessons for the day. Is he a half witted Lad? He'll serve poor Child, say his Parents, well enough for the Pulpi••, if he but hold his Notes to his Pur-blind Eyes, it is but holding them the Closer, and the bunness is done; especially if his Parents or Friends scrape Acquaintance with a Patron, I know how, or buy 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Advousion or the next Avoydance.

And then make room for the Parson, a true Son of the Church: Why do you smlle? It is too serious, too great, and too dismal a Truth and Mis∣chief, to draw Tears from your Eyes by laughing; you have more cause to be weeping Jeremies, and make Lamentations at so mischievous a Constitu∣tion of a Church, in making Watchmen that are blind and lame, and dumb, being ordained unto Holy Orders by blind Implicite Faith: which we all condemn in the Papists, but in the Church of England draw a new Scene: and it is received with Applause: Oh poor English! A foo∣lish people and unwise, though the most Courageable and best Hearts, as well as the most plain hearted Nation under Heaven.

You think (now) that this is a Romance, and not literally true; well then, so let it go; 'Tis so much the fitter for this Character of a Ceremo∣ny-monger, which is all a Romance.

A Romance! What's that? It comes from Roma, Rome, the Ground and Platform of the truest and best Histories of Truth; and the Scene of the greatest Acts the Sun ever saw.

And a Romance is as like a true Roman History, as my Ceremony-Mon∣ger is like a Papist, he is not a Papist, (he says) no, he is not a bare-sac'd Papist, I'll do him right; but to see to, he is as like a Papist as ever he can look, and his Devotion as like Popery as ever it can look: He does not say the Mass indeed in Latine; but his Hood, his Cope, his Surplice, his Rocker, his Altar Rall'd in, his Candles, and Cushions, and Book there∣on, his bowing to it, his bowing or rather Nodding at the name Jesu, his Organs, his Violins, his Singing Men, his Singing-Boys, with their Al∣ternate Jabbering and Mouthings, (as Unintelligible as Latine-Service) and so very like Popery that I profess (when I came from beyond Sea, about the year 1660. to Pauls and White-Hall) I almost thought, at first blush, that I was, still, in Spain or Portugal; only the Candles on our Altars, most Non∣sensically, stand unlighted, to signifie, what? The darkness of our Noddles, or to tempt the Chandlers to turo, down-right, Papists, as the more suit∣able Religion for their Trade: for ours mocks them, seeds them with Hopes only, he gapes and stares to see the lucky Minute when the Candics

should be lighted, but he is cheated, for they do not burn out in an Age.

But the Foppery is Homogeneal, all of a piece, foolish and illegal Cere∣monies all over, only my Ceremony-monger has got Law of his side for his Surplice, and his Common-Prayers, which are both very good things, and though perhaps he may be perswaded to part with the former, if you take away the latter, viz. the Common-Prayer-Book, ye had is good cut out his Tongue; nay, even few up his Mou••h also; for he has no occasion, for it, nor for his Teeth neither, for his Body most starys, and be as clean and jejune as his Soul: Therefore, as you love his Life and Soul let him have his Common-prayer Book, or else his Curate will have no∣thing in the World to do, but must be forc'd to turn Sexton; why should not the Dead bury the Dead? The dead in Sin, bury the Dead for Sin, to so liseless and spiritless a thing is Religion reduc'd by my Ceromony-Monger; nay, some of them in their pretended prayer before Sermon, do mock both God, and the people, praying, or pretending to pray as the mouth of the people in the pulpit and yet (like good Hannah's private prayer) their Lips only move, but their Voice is not heard.

Old Eli thought the good Woman was Drunk or a Fool, to talk to her self; but she designed only private prayer.

But certainly the Master of the Ceremonies, is either a Fop, or a Mad-man, or else takes all the People for a Fop of his own making, to have only a handsome gaze at the person, whilst he Acts his Mammery in the pulpit.

Why does the pulpit stand alost? But that the preacher should lift his Voice like a Trumpet, that all the Church may hear, or else what does he do there? The papists indeed do vindicate pictures in Churches, as being the Lay-man's History, though he know not a Letter in the Book, his Eyes may read by seeing a picture; and thus my Ceremony-monger brings up his Fops in Ignorance, and Ignorant Devotion; they know no∣thing of the matter, and cannot say Amen, to they do not know what; It is no matter for that, for (just like popish Mass, called Secreta, which the priest mumbles to himself, so our Foppish Ceremony-monger that must be like a popish pri••st, or else perhaps he had never come to so high a pulpit, and place in the Church, he must mumble too his prayers, though in pulpit, to himself, because 'tis just as the popish priests do, that make as if the people need not pray, nor believe; the priest prays for them, and be∣lieves for them; keep them blind, says the priest, and then you may lead them by the Nose, which way you please; O poor English Fops! To be fopt by an Old Fop, that is as much or more an Hypocritical Knave than a Fool.

And I am the more apt to believe it now, because the mumbling Hypo∣crites, never mumbled so much, and so long in the pulpit-prayer before Sermon, as now a days in this Juncture and Revolution in the Kingdom, and change in the Throne; to pray for the Abdicated King, would be to own him and Popery with his Mouth, but he dare not do that, they have only his heart at present.

And to pray for their Sacred Majestle's, our Soveraign Lord and Lady, King William and Queen Mary, they are such Strangers to his Heart, that

he chuses rather not to pray at all, in his own prayer before Sermon; or not at all to be heard, till such time, as it may be guess'd, he had done it to himself, talking (as they say Witches do) to himself in the Pulpit; most prophanely mocking God and the People, by pretending to speak, when he only mumbles with his Lips; for if his Voice be heard, the crafty Hypocrite thinks that some Body will tell (because the Tongue tells) who he is for: Where as now the Fox lies learing and lurching, to see which King will get the better, and then, (and not till then) he will declare himself, and in the Interim, his Ambo-dexter reserves himself; for he is true to no Interest, nor to any Religion, but that which most tends to the Advancement of his only God, Mammon, and his Curate only runs the Risque, in praying for King William, and Queen Mary.

In short, (for I am quite tired and sick of him) his Church-Work is just like his Church-Clock, moved extraneously, by outward Weights, Wheels, Springs or Plummets, but has no inward or spiritual Life or Motion; such is his prayers, such his Sermons, (though he have a Budget∣full) Dead, Dull, spiritless, lifeless, frigid, and perfunctory Devotion; he never converts any Man, except to silly Ceremonses, Because himself is not converted to any thing; else his Words die before they reach the Heart of his Hearers, for how can they well come to the Heart of his Auditors, when they never came in, nor from his own Head nor Heart; he is the great Stock-Logg of the Church, that has neither Fire nor heat within, the little he has, is all out-side, superficial, and without; it takes up a great deal of Rome indeed, but 'tis good for nothing in the World, but the dung-hil; he is that Salt that has quite lost it's Savour, if over he had any, and good for nothing, but to be troden under Foot of Men; and relish'd by none but such as have lost their Taste, or never had any.

I'll tell you how you may be quit of this Ecclesiastical Copy-holder; all his Tenure and Title to the Pulplt is Copy-hold, get but his Notes, or his Copies from him, and the Pulpit will not hold him, he must come down and hire a Journey Man of more Skill, if any such can be had, for Money, so to debase himself to be Surrogate to a rich Fop, that with his silk Cassock, and Scarlet Hood runs away with the Galm, whilst poor Thred-bare Crape takes all the pains.

Yet, even these are scarce to be had for Love or Money; for the Cere∣mony-monger has so polluted the Fountain of Learning the Universities, that where shall a man sooner meet with noysie Impudence, and gingling Nonsence, (a sounding Brass, and rinckling Cymbal) than in the two great St. Maries Pulpits in the Universitiis?

So that if God be not the more merciful, and Their Sacred Majesties the more careful of their Academies, the generality of the Clergy must be like the Scribes and Pharisees, in our Saviour's time, painted Sepulchres, Gay without, fine Ornaments without, but within, nothing but Rotten∣ness and dead Men's Boues.

Just as we were in the Church of England (I remember) fifty years ago, in the Reign of that great Master of Ceremonies, little Doctor Laud, that did so discountenance lively and edifying Sermons, or almost any Ser∣mons, that a Man must have travell'd for it, and far too, if he heard any

thing but the Common prayer and Organs, above four times in a Year. In∣deed, now there is to many Sermons in Print, that we have plenty in the Pulpit, though generally such discrepant, Heterogeneous, and Immetho∣dical Stuff, as being compos'd of several printed Sermons, a patch here, and a patch there describ'd, that they are like a Beggars Coat, or a Tall∣or's Cloak bag, made up of party-colour'd Lists and Parches, they are so dis-compos'd by the Plagiary, in wise Prudence, like a Thief that takes By-Roads, for fear of being known, pursued, sound out, and taken by the Hue and Cry.

Therefore this Plagiary Reader, conscious of Guilt, disguises all disco∣very, if possible, like the crafty Hare that makes false Steps and Doubles in the Snow, when she is near her form, for fear of being track'd by her Steps, and Trac'd.

Thus this Chattering Jay has nothing good about him, but the Gay Fea∣thers, his Carcase is worth nothing but to Dung the Land; so that the Church, you see, can breed Vermine as well as the Barn.