Most of them love all whores, but her of Babylon. In few
words, any man may be what he will, so he be one of them. It is enough
to despise the King, to hate the Duke, and rail at the succession:
after this it is no matter how a man lives; he is a saint by
infection; he goes along with the party, has their mark upon him; his
wickedness is no more than frailty; their righteousness is imputed to
him: so that, as ignorant rogues go out doctors when a prince comes to
an university, they hope, at the last day, to take their degree in a
crowd of true protestants, and thrust unheeded into heaven[28].
It is a credit to be railed at by such men as these. The charter-man,
in the very title-page, where he hangs out the cloth of the city
before his book, gives it for his motto, _Si populus vult decipi,
decipiatur_[29]; as if he should have said, "you have a mind to be
cozened, and the devil give you good on't." If I cry a sirreverence,
and you take it for honey, make the best of your bargain. For shame,
good Christians, can you suffer such a man to starve, when you see his
design is upon your purses? He is contented to expose the ears
representative of your party on the pillory, and is in a way of doing
you more service than a worn-out witness, who can hang nobody
hereafter but himself. He tells you, "The papists clap their hands, in
the hopes they conceive of the ruin of your government:" Does not this
single syllable _your_ deserve a pension, if he can prove the
government to be yours, and that the king has nothing to do in your
republic? He continues, as if that were as sure and certain to them,
as it is to us, without doubt, that they (the papists) once fired the
city, just as certain in your own consciences.
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