TO THE READER.
Reader, The treatise entitled " Fiat Lux," which thou wilt find examined in the ensuing discourse, was lent unto me, not long since, hy an honourable person, with a re- quest to return an answer unto it. It had not been many hours in my hand before the same desire was seconded by others. Having made no engagement unto the person of whom I received it, the book, after some few days, was re- manded ; yet, as it fell out, not before I had finished my Animadversions upon it. But before I could send my papers to the pi'css, I heard of a second edition of that treatise ; which also occasionally coming to my hands, I perceived it had been printed some good while before I saw or heard of the first. Finding the bulk of the discourse increased, I thought it needful to go through it once more, to see if any thing of moment were added to that edition which I had considered, or any alterations made by the author's second thoughts. This somewhat discouraged me, that, my first book being gone, I could not compare the editions, but must trust to my memory, — none of the best, — as to what was, or was not, in that I had per- used. But not designing any use in a mere comparing of the editions, but only to consider whether in either of them any thing material was remaining, either not heeded by me, in my hasty passage through the first, or added in the second undiscussed, I thought it of no great concernment to inquire again after the first book. What of that nature oftered itself unto me, I cast my thoughts upon into the margin of what was before written, inserting it into the same continued dis- course. I therefore desire the reader, that he may not suspect himself deceived, to take notice, that whatever quotations out of that treatise he meets withal, the number of pages throughout answers the first edition of it.
Of the author of that discourse, and his design therein, I have but little to pre- mise. He seems at first view to be a Naphtali, a hind let loose, and to give goodly words. But though the voice we hear from him sometimes be the voice of Jacob, yet the hands that j^ut forth themselves, in his progress, are the hands of Esau. Moderation is pretended ; but his counsels for peace centre in an advice for the extermination of the Ishmael (as he esteems it) of Protestancy. We know full well that the words he begins to flourish withal are not "Vox ultima Papte." A discovery of the inconsistency of his real and pretended design is one part of our business. Indeed, an attentive reader cannot but quickly discern, that pei-suasions unto moderation in different professions of Christian i-eligion, with a relinquish- ment of all others to an embracement of Popery, be they never so finely smoothed, must needs interfere. But yet, with words at such real variance among them- selves doth our author hope to impose his sentiments in religion on the minds of noble and ingenuous persons, not yet accustomed to those severer thoughts and studies which are needful to form an exact judgment in things of this nature. That he should upon any obtain both his ends, — moderation and Popery, — is im- possible. No two things are more inconsistent. Let him cease the pursuit of the latter, and we will follow after the former with him or without him. And if any
4 TO THE READER.
man be so unhappily simple as to think to come to moderation in religion-feuds by turning Romanist, I shall leave him for his conviction to the mistress of such wise men. My present business is, as I find, to separate between his pleas for the moderation pretended, and those for Popery really aimed at. What force there may be in his reasons for that whicli he would not have, I shall not examine; but shall manifest that there is none in them he uses for what he would. And, reader, if this hasty attempt for the prevention of the application of them find acceptance with thee I shall, it may be ere long, give thee a full account of the new ways and principles which our author, and the men of the same persuasion, have of late years resolved on for the promotion of their cause and interest.
Farewell.
PREFACE.
Considering the condition of affairs in these nations, in i-eference to the late mis- carriages and present distempers of men about religion, it was no hard conjecture that some would improve the advantage, seeming so fairly to present itself unto them, unto ends of their own: men of prudence, ability, and leisure, engaged by all bonds imaginable in the pursuit of any special interest, need little minding of the com- mon ways of wisdom for its promotion. They know that he that would fashion iron into the image and Hkeness which he hath fancied must strike whilst it is hot, — when the adventitious efficacy of the fire it hath admitted makes it pliable to that whereunto, in its own nature, it is most opposite. Such seems to be, in these days, the temper of men in religion, from those flames wherewith some have been scorched, others heated, all provoked, and made fit to receive new impressions, if wisely hammered. Neither was it a difficult prognostication for any one, to foretell what arguments and mediums would be made use of to animate and enliven the persuasions of men, who had either right or confidence enough to plead or pre- tend a disinterest in our miscarriages for an embracement of their profession. Commonly, with men that indulge to passion and distemj^ers, as the most of men are apt to do, the last provocation blots out the remembi-ance of preceding crimes no less heinous. And, whatever to the contrary is pretended, men usually have not that indignation against principles which have produced evils they have only heard or read of, that they have against practices under which they have person- ally suffered. Hence it might easily be expected that the Romanists, supposing, at least, by the help of those paroxysms they discern amongst us, that the miscar- riages of some of their adversaries would prove a garment large enough to cover and hide their own, would, with much confidence, improve them to their special advantage. Nor is it otherwise come to pass. This persuasion, and suitable prac- tice thereon, runs through all the veins of the discourse we have proposed to con- sideration; making that seem quick and sprightly which otherwise would have been but a heap or a carcase.