Numbers of political papers and tracts appeared expressing uneasiness. Much authority cannot be attached to such a random writer as Roger L'Estrange; but when he states that not so few as 200,000 copies of seditious works had been printed "since the blessed return of his sacred Majesty," and that to these were to be added new editions of old ones to the amount of millions more,[367] we are justified in believing that the printers were kept very busy by people of the kind so much detested by this pamphleteer, nor do I doubt that, as he says, the publications "were contrived and penned with accurate care and cunning to catch all humours." On the other side, the Church and State party did not sit with folded hands--Roger's own fiery pen being unceasingly employed in the laudation of King, Church, and Bishops, and in vilifying Roundheads, Republicans, and all Sectaries. Some authors mingled in the _mêlée_ after a very equivocal fashion, drawing "a parallel betwixt the ancient and the modern fanatics," so as to place in company with Anabaptists, Quakers, and Independents, not only the Lollards, but even Hugh Latimer--thus striking a blow at Nonconformity through the side of the Reformation.[368] Much more effective than abuse and satire, were papers, printed ready for Bartholomew's Day, giving "a brief martyrology and catalogue of the learned, grave, religious, and painful ministers of the City of London, who were deprived, imprisoned, and plundered, during the Commonwealth." The persecution of the Episcopalians afforded a strong point against the Nonconformists, especially before it could be met by a long list of ejected Nonconformists. Names of Episcopalians said to have been reviled, and forced to resign, and "compelled to fly"--"violated, assaulted, abused in the streets," and imprisoned in "the Compter, Ely House, Newgate, and the ships"--furnished so many arguments for severe measures against those who were charged with these indefensible persecutions. CHAPTER XIII. No Sunday in England ever exactly resembled that which fell on the 17th of August, 1662--one week before the feast of St. Bartholomew. There have been "mourning, lamentation, and woe," in particular parish churches when death, persecution, or some other cause has broken pastoral ties, and severed from loving congregations, their spiritual guides; but for many hundreds of ministers on the same day to be uttering farewells is an unparalleled circumstance. In after years, Puritan fathers and mothers related to their children the story of assembled crowds; of aisles, standing-places, and stairs, filled to suffocation; of people clinging to open windows like swarms of bees; of overflowing throngs in churchyards and streets; of deep silence or stifled sobs, as the flock gazed on the shepherd--"sorrowing most of all that they should see his face no more." [Sidenote: 1662.]