Non-Specific Humans the Link-Boy of the Secretaries no Man some old extravagant Fornicators A Woodmonger the Turks Fools Madmen The Pope the Presbyterian Demoniacs the Reprobate a Botcher of their Church primitive fathers of their Church their whole party
Mythological Figures a Scoundel Saint Saints the Devil Devil's Oracles
Animals a Salamander Woodcocks cattle
[double rule]
I2S a Scoundrel Saint, of an Order without
Founder, Vow, or Rule ; for he will not
ſwear, nor be tyed to any Thing, but his own
Humour. He is the Link-Boy of the Sectaries,
and talks much of his Light, but puts it under
a Buſhel, for nobody can ſee it but himſelf. His
Religion is but the cold Fit of an Ague, and his
Zeal of a contrary Temper to that of all others,
yet produces the ſame Effects ; as cold Iron in
Greenland, they ſay, burns as well as hot ;
which makes him delight, like a Salamander,
to live in the Fire of Perſecution. He works
out his Salvation, not with Fear, but Confidence
and Trembling. His Profeſſion is but a Kind
of Winter-Religion ; and the Original of it as
uncertain as the hatching of Woodcocks, for
no Man can tell from whence it came. He
Vapours much of the Light within him, but
no ſuch Thing appears, unleſs he means as he
is light-headed. He believes he takes up the
Croſs in being croſs to all Mankind. He de_
lights in Perſecution, as ſome old extravagant
Fornicators find a Lechery in being whipt ;
and has no Ambition but to go to Heaven in
what he calls a fiery Chariot, that is, a Wood-
monger’s Faggot Cart. You may perceive he
has a Crack in his Skull by the flat Twang of
his Noſe, and the great Care he takes to keep
his Hat on, leſt his ſickly Brains, if he have
any, ſhould take Cold at it. He believes his
Doctrine to be heavenly, becauſe it agrees per-
fectly with the Motus Trepidationis. All his
Hopes are in the Turks overrunning of Chriſ-
tendom, becauſe he has heard they count Fools
and Madmen Saints, and doubts not to paſs
muſter with them for great Abilities that Way.
This makes him believe he can convert the Turk,
tho’ he could do no good on the Pope, or the
Preſbyterian. Nothing comes ſo near his quak-
ing Liturgy, as the Papiſtical Poſſeſſions of the
Devil, with which it conforms in Diſcipline
exact. His Church, or rather Chapel, is built
upon a flat Sand, without ſuperior or inferior
in it, and not upon a Rock, which is never
found without great Inequalities. Next De_
moniacs he moſt reſembles the Reprobate, who
are ſaid to be condemned to Weeping and
Gnaſhing of Teeth. There was a Botcher of
their Church, that renounced his Trade and
turned Preacher, becauſe he held it ſuperſtiti-
ous to ſit croſs-legged. His Devotion is but a
Kind of ſpiritual Palſy, that proceeds from a
Diſtemper in the Brain, where the Nerves are
rooted. They abhor the Church of England,
but conform exactly with thoſe primitive Fa-
thers of their Church, that heretofore gave An-
ſwers at the Devil’s Oracles, in which they ob-
ſerved the very ſame Ceremony of quaking and
and gaping now practiſed by our modern En_
thuſiaſts at their Exorciſms, rather than Ex-
erciſes of Devotion. He ſucks in the Air like
a Pair of Bellows, and blows his inward Light
with it, till he dung Fire, as Cattle do in Lin-
colnſhire. The general Ignorance of their
whole Party make it appear, that whatſoever
their Zeal may be, it is not according to Know-
ledge.