And this manner of writing is seldom complain'd of, as unfit to be allow'd, by any but those who feel themselves hurt by it. For the solemn and grave can bear a solemn and grave Attack: That gives them a sort of Credit in the World, and makes them appear considerable to themselves, as worthy of a serious Regard. But _Contempt_ is what they, who commonly are the most contemptible and worthless of Men, cannot bear nor withstand, as setting them in their true Light, and being the most effectual Method to drive Imposture, the sole Foundation of their Credit, out of the World. Hence _Stillingfleet_'s Popish Adversaries, more conscious perhaps of the Ridiculousness of Popery than the common People among Protestants themselves, fall upon him very furiously. One says[37], "That by the Phrases, which are the chief Ornaments that set off the Doctor's Works, we may easily guess in what Books he has spent his Time; and that he is well vers'd in _Don Quixot_, the _Seven Champions_, and other _Romantick Stories_. Sure the Doctor err'd in his Vocation: Had he quitted all serious Matters, and dedicated himself wholly to Drollery and Romance, with two or three Years under _Hudibras_, he might have been a Master in that Faculty; the Stage might have been a Gainer by it, and the Church of _England_ would have been no Loser." Another of his Adversaries says, "[38]Peruse the Doctor Page after Page, you will find the Man all along in peevish Humour, when you see his Book brimfull of tart biting Ironies, Drolleries, comical Expressions, impertinent Demands, and idle Stories, _&c._ as if the discharging a little Gall were enough to disparage _the clearest Miracles_ God ever wrought."