THE GRAND IMPOSTURE: OR THE MYSTERY OF INIQUITY:
A SATYR.
Tristius haud illis Monstrum, nec saevior ulla Pestis—
Virg. Aeneid. lib. 3.
London, Printed Anno 1679.
THE Grand Imposture OR THE MYSTERY OF INIQUITY.
ASCEND Alecto from thy Den, and come
Just as thou look'st in that Infernal Home;
Fell Fury fire my Fancy, for I have
More cause then Poet e're had yet to rave;
Thou art my Muse, thy Snakes my Lawrels are,
By me thine own, and Rome's Intrigues declare:
Do it for once, then back to Hell retire,
And pay the Jesuits their Arrears of Fire.
A Jesuit great Satan's Envoy is
Sent to succeed the Snake of Paradise:
For when that fatal stroke of Adam's loss
Was healed by the great Theanthropos,
When that deep Stratagem of the dark Throne
Mysterious Messiah had undone;
And that first Argument of hellish Power
Was quite confuted by a Saviour,
Then baffled Lucifer, no Answer had,
Till He a Jesuit his rejoynder made;
By whom he hopes compleatly to renew
The Battle, and once more mankind undo;
Plotting his old Dominion to make good
By false implicit Faith, or fire and blood;
That catches Fools, and these destroy the Wise,
Thus all mankind, are equally his Prize.
"Shut your Eyes close, believe me, and you'll see
"(Th' Ignatian cryes) the way t' Eternity;
"Deny all Reason, misbelieve your Sense,
"Church cannot Err, be that your Confidence:
"Pin on our Sleeve your Faith, and thô you'r blind
"Take but fast hold, and follow us behind,
"Our open Eyes the way for both will find.
"This Wine and Wafer now are common food,
"But a few words shall make 'em Flesh and Blood,
"And thô they after all the same appear,
"And out of Modesty th' old Livery wear,
"Yet is Christ's very Blood and Body here.
Such plain Impostures, such bold Cheats as these
Can surely none, but fools, or mad men please.
The Snake of Paradise play'd fairer far
With Adam's Wife, and more upon the Square,
He call'd an Apple, Apple, said 'twas good,
Pleasant to th' sight, and delicate for food;
The Jesuits Tricks would ne're have ta'n with Eve,
She saw what's what, before she did believe,
Besides he pleaded that 'twould make her wise,
But these, the grossest ignorance advise.
And thus we lose our selves, b' a greater Cheat
Then what the Serpent us'd in Eve's defeat;
Thus we our sense and reason lay aside
To take an old ambitious Fool for Guide,
Thus we turn Stocks and Ideots, and then
Become good Cath'licks, ceasing to be men;
As if the only way to save our Souls,
Were, to be easie Slaves or senceless fools.
To all this fond credulity we're hurl'd
By slavish fears about the burning world,
So to be sure to feel no torment there,
First strip our selves of all our senses here.
Now, my Alecto, let's advance and view
The Frauds that lurk under Religious shew,
For thô to Heav'n their fair pretences swell,
The Root lies deep and dark as is thy Cell.
No Heathen Law-giver, no Pagan Priest;
Did e're with such mysterious Wiles infest
The superstitious Multitude, for that
Is still most apt to fear they know not what.
No Cabalist of State could e're Trapan
With such firm subtlety as Rome's Divan.
And first, least holy Church should chance to float
(Without a last appeal) in endless doubt,
You must with dumb obedience still repair.
Unto Rome's holy Apostolick Chair,
That, that's infallible and cannot erre.
This bold Assumption keeps more in Awe
Then Numa with his feign'd Egeria.
And thô it seems at points of Faith to aime,
'Tis to be uncontroulably Supreame;
Get universal deference, and create
A close dependance on the Roman Seat.
Branding on all damnable Heresie,
That dare oppose the Apostolick See,
Or Rome's Political Divinity.
Thus it usurps boundless dominion,
Makes Kings their subject's, slaves, and both it's own.
Rome's doctrine is a secular device,
Mere trick of state in reverend disguise,
Th' ambitious spawn of latter Centuries:
And thô it proudly boast an ancient Line,
From Peter, 'tis of basest Origine;
'Tis the Priest's spurious Issue, gotten on
Ignorance, Fear and Superstition:
These three compleatly make the triple Crown,
And still support old Rome's imperial Throne.
How slily do the Priests by help of these
Make men believe, and then do what they please?
How solemnly they dazle Vulgar eies
With fine misterious holy Vanities?
Whose ceremonious pomp strikes awful dread
In fools, that by their eies and ears are lead.
But should I here endeavour to declare,
The num'rous Gimcracks of the Romish Fair,
Their Mystick Idols, consecrated Bawbles,
Feign'd Miracles, and monstrous holy Fables;
How dead Saints relicks cure the Gout or Ptisick,
And are, like Egypt's Mummy, kept for Physick;
How they can scare the Devil with a stench,
(Not that Tobias us'd to get the Wench:
In telling this I might as teedious be
As the returne of their next Jubilee.
But these are Petty trifles, tiney toys,
Tricks to catch Women, gaping Fools and Boys;
They have devices of a larger size,
Traps to ensnare the Wary and the Wise:
And if you chance to boggle at the bait,
They curse, and cry, damnation be your fate,
And then you swallow it at any rate.
Oh! what a melancholy dismal story
They roar in dying Ears of Purgatory;
That rather than th' affrighted wretch will burn
So long, Hee'll all his Gold to Masses turn:
Thus Ecclesiastick Chymists (you'ld admire)
Make real Gold by a fictitious Fire.
Next extreame unction comes, from whence the Priest
Gets the most good, by greasing in the Fist.
But of all cheats that necessary are
Unto salvation, Auricular
Confession bears the bell, and seems to me
Next to infallible Supremacy;
It wears a holy Ueile, but underneath
Is shame and slavery far worse than death.
The Priest may tyrannize without controul,
That knows the guilty secret of the soul.
So when the gentle sex confession makes,
That they have often sin'd upon their backs,
How easily the Priest coms in for snacks?
And shireves the pretty Penitent A la mode,
No trick like a jure divino Fraud:
Thus are their chiefest Doctrines, plain device,
Pimp to their Pride, their Lust and Avarice
In holy Apostolical disguise.
In short, the whole misterious Cheat doth lie
In superstition and Idolatry,
Two spurious Graffts—
Set in the tree of life, Religion,
With whose Luxurious branches 'tis or'e grown
To such a monstrous disproportion,
That the first planters would it quite disown.
Religion, like a modest rural mayd,
No artificial dresse no fucus had
But was in native Innocency clad,
Till in Romes Court she ceased to be such,
Thence, sprang her Infamy and first debauch;
There, laying plain simplicity aside,
She grew to idle wantonnes and Pride:
Yet still some modesty confin'd her Home,
Nor rambled she beyond the Walls of Rome;
Till Proud of her succesful charms, she grew
Ambitious mighty Monarchs to subdue;
So by deceitful arts she inlarg'd her pow'r,
And made them slaves, that sh' had serv'd before.
At length her lawless Pride gave some mistrust,
And that increas'd by her insatiate Lust.
She grew imperious, asked more and more,
And would be Tyrant too, as well as Whore.
Then wisely some the Vassalage forsook,
Others repin'd as weary of the Yoke:
She, Jealous lest her Universal sway
Shold lessen, or her former fame decay,
'Mongst others, did the Schoolmens Pen imploy
To Vindicate her truth and honesty,
(Schoolmen, who ransack sciences and Arts
To prove with pains, that they are Fools of parts;
A knack to Coyn unmeaning words they've got,
False words that w'ont endure the test of thought:
Distinction's their last refuge and appeal,
The better, if unintelligible)
So these her honour justifi'd in words,
As Bully Jesuits Plot to doe with swords.
But both in vain, for 'tis concluded on
Their Mistress is the Whore of Babylon.
Shift, shift the Scenes, Alecto, fury Fiend
Wake all thy Snakes, and make this Tragick end;
By Hellish Art raise up in dark Cabal,
The Pope, a Jesuit and Cardinal.
Thy self place in the middle, raving Wood,
With Poysons, Pistols, Daggers, Fire and Blood.
Now let this Scene start into sudden sight
By gloomy Flashes of Sulphureous light;
Then let his Holiness's face appear
Full of deep Counsel, thought and weighty Care.
Whilst each of you in awful silence hears
The sacred Oracle with hungry Ears.
"Was it for this my boundless power was giv'n?
"For this have I the Keys of Hell and Heaven?
"In vain I boast of a Supremacy,
"And call my Chair the Universal See.
"A little Nest of Hereticks cut off
"From Europes Earth, at all my Pow'r doth laugh.
Turning to the Jesuit.
"Who (thô they kindly could decline to be
"A Bar to Ballance Gallick Monarchy,
"Yet) still oppose my holy Tyranny.
"False Agents, heartless, traiterous, have you
"So often sworn by Sacramental Vow
"Or to Convert this Island or undo?
"Was your Commission scant, did I deny
"Plenipotentiary Villany?
Have not I null'd Divine and Humane Laws,
That without let you might promote the Cause?
"Heavens Laws, thô fixt by an Eternal Seal,
"Stoop, and are liable to my repeal.
"Moses once broke these Tables, often I
"Not to prevent, but fix Idolatry.
"Thus had your large Commission no restraint,
"Nor did you Apostolick Blessing want.
"Nay more, the blackest Crimes in you were merit,
"For which all other endless flames inherit:
"So Treasons, Murders, Perjuries became
"Sure Monuments of your Eternal Fame;
"So nature chang'd her course, yet nothing's done,
"T'advance the Catholick Religion.
"Be gone Slave, fly; Delude with crafty words,
"If they prove vain, use poyson, Fire and Swords:
"Make better work on't, or I swear by th' Mass
"And the Divinity of Holy Cross—
These chance unlucky words broke all the Spell,
They vanish'd, and Alecto sunk to Hell.
FINIS.