As for his Text, he handles that as _Moses_ did his Rod when it was turned into a Serpent, he lays it down, and runs away from it: yet his Sermon lies all written before him; for the poor Copy-holder in Divinity can do nothing without his Notes. This his weakness, he would have you think, is his worth; for he chargeth men of abler parts with presumption: Yet when he prays, he shuts his Eyes, preferring Nonsense and Tautologies before the Divine Lyturgy. _Vain Wretch, that dares not speak to men without Papers, and yet presumes to talk to God_ extempore! As for his Congregation, he Saints or reprobates them, according to what they give him; and like a Gypsie, tells good Fortune to none but those that cross his hand with a piece of silver; and by him, as well as by the Pope, you may be Canonized for mony: Thus he is a meer _Balaam_, that blesseth and curseth for reward: he that opposeth him, acts the part of an Angel; but he that submits to him is worse then an Ass. If you consider his constancy, he is a kind of _Religious Proteus_, that is now ready to fawn upon that Power against which he hath so long bark’d. If therefore there be a Church in _England_ which consists of men, surely, _The Orthodox, faithful, constant Ministers, are the Doors, Windows, Pillars, Bells and Candlesticks_; and the rest serve only for _Weathercocks_. It is confessed, that at the beginning of this happy Reformation, he was a little stubborn: perhaps, expecting a second War; but now (poor heart) he hath learned to pray for his Majesty: but (if you could hear the language of his Soul) it is so, as impatient heirs pray for their rich fathers. There are two sorts of men, who having escaped a deserved pair of Gallows, pray for the King very strangely, that is, a Felon, whilst the Executioner burns his hand; and a Traytor, whilst the Devil sears his Conscience. If you would know his name, you may finde it subscrib’d to an ugly Petition; for where _Bradshaw_ was a _Pilate_ that condemned, he was one of those Jews that cry’d Crucifie. He professes sorrow for the Martyrdom of our late Soveraign; but believe him not, for his hand helped to hale him to the Block. In a word, he is (at best) but a State-Crocodile, and one that is Maudlin-drunk with the Kings blood. No more, but if you chance to meet with a Hue and Cry, you may tell them, that he was lately in a Sequestred Parsonage. This Character was hugely pleasing to the Drugster; and indeed, he and his two Companions, the Scrivener, and _Gregory_ the Taylor, did all conclude, that it was very ingeniously true, and gave much satisfaction to them in that particular; and they all agreed, _That the Dissenters from the Church, were the Murtherers of their Prince_.