THE occasion of these words my Beloved was nothing but death, the death of a certain person; mortuus est, extinguitur, as 'tis in the Original. For Pantagruel, the Son of Garagantua, the Son of Grandgousier, was a great Gy­ant, who laid about him upon all occasions, whe­ther it were eating or drinking, fight or sh [...] and as his name was Pantagruel, so he represen­ted [Page 2] Henry the second of France, as the most venera­ble notes upon our excellent Author declare, & his adherents were call'd Pantagruelists, or Pope­lings, and he warred against he Andoullians, who were the true Evangelics. Now to bring the busi­ness down to our times, the Pantagruelists were Tories or Popelings, and the Andoullians were Whigs or Evangelics according to those wicked distinctions that are now used among us. As for our vene­rable Author himself, he was a great Doctor in his Time, and a great Evangelic or Whig, for he refus'd to kiss the Pope's Toe, as you may read in his Life, for which he suffer'd much Tri­bulation, according to his demerits. As for the Book it self, it is therefore called Pantagruel, be­cause therein our venerable Author recites the Acts of the great Pantagruel, as the Books of the Maccabees, are so called, because they relate the Attchievements of the Maccabean Brethren. As for the Person that the great Eusthenes, and the famous Pantagruel here lament, he was calld Panurgus, that is to say (for I have not been so long a Disciple in the Colledge of the Infe­riour Clergy, where our deceased Brother sate Regent, but I understand many pretty knick­nacks, especially those of Etymologies) one that would be a Dominus Factotum, a Polypragmon, as it is in the Greek, in English a Busie-body. [Page 3]In another sense it signifies a crafty cunning Companion. And thus Jupiter in Lucian's second Dialogue of the Gods, reproaches Cupid with the Epithites of Geron and Panurgus, old and deceitfully cunning. So that upon good authori­ty you may take Panurgus for a Busie-body, or a great Deceiver, which you please, it being at your choice.

To this same Panurgus our once Divine Obser­vator, and dear Brother here departed, and now going to his long home, may be very justly re­sembled. Panurgus became famous by main­taining disputes; he confuted a man of all sorts of Sciences, once by the motion of his fingers. And what has not our Observator done by his Proing and Conning? Has he not wrought miracles? has he not con­futed all the Andoullians, that else would have over-ran the Kingdom like so many Lo­custs, and caus'd all the Enemies of the Panta­gruelians to piss Vinegar? Yes marry has he— yes, my beloved, I say he has done it, don't to purpose too, or as I may say, with a vengeance. Nay such was the reverence which the Panta­gruelians and Papishes had for him, that had he liv'd a little longer (and a thousand pities it was he did not) a certain day in the year was to have been set apart, at what time all the Panta­gruelians [Page 4]and Papishes were to have met our dear Brother by the name of the most invinci­ble Observator, and he was to have met them; and then was he to have pull'd down his Bree­ches in most solemn manner, and they in like solemn manner were to have kneel'd, and kiss't his bare Buttocks, and then they were to have had a Sermon, and to have gone to Dinner at the Half-Moon in Cheapside— and the day itself was to have been call'd Baise-cul or Kiss-nock Day.

In the second place Panurgus was enamour'd of a great Lady in Paris; but when she fell out with him, and slighted his kindnesses, wo worth the Lady, such ill luck betided her. For by vertue of a certain Drug which Panurgus strew'd upon her Garment, and the Folds of her Sleeves, as he kneel'd by her at Prayers, all the Dogs i'the Church, both great and small of all sorts, came and piss'd upon her cloaths, and spoyl'd her a Crimson Sattin Petticoat, and a rich white Velvet Just-a-core. In the same manner our dear Brother, rather our Grand Master of Rhodes, that beat down all before him with the Club of Observation, was enamour'd of a Lady, and they lov'd one another, and caress'd one another, and culebuted together for several years, till at length, unhappy and unfortunate as she was, she fell out with him according to [Page 5]the custom of female Inconstancy. But what was the fatal event? Town-buzzing, and Town-talk, slur, blur, pur— whur— finger— pointing— sneering, fleering— Hum for that, &c. and all because the Lady refused to settle the land upon him.

In the next place Panurgus came to be a Car­dinal. For by that name, as our Author of Bles­sed Memory would have it, is meant the Car­dinal D' Amboyse. And why was he made a Car­dinal? Why, for inventing a way of arguing without sense or reason, by which he not only gravel'd the English Philosopher, as you shall find in the 19th ch. Book second, v. 22. but also gravel'd and confounded several Devils themselves. ch. 18. v. 33. And this he did after he had been drinking all night, and playing at Spurn point with the Pages. At another time out of the profoundness of his Kitchin learning, he discovered the great Mystery concerning salt Beef, which lay hid till then under a strange Cabalistical Trifle, and publickly maintain'd, that the sooner the Monks rose, the sooner the Pot was set on; the sooner the Pot was set on, the sooner the Meat would be boyl'd; the lon­ger it boyl'd, the better it would be; the better it was boyl'd, the tenderer 'twould be, and the more acceptable to the Stomach; the more ac­ceptable, the more nourishing.

By such idle methods of Argumentizing as these did our deceased Brother endeavour Tooth and Nail to acquire fame, and a Cardinals Ha [...]. He had read how Poole, Bellay, and others, had the Honour to be damn'd in Scarlet, as Anti­christs Nobles, for their indefatigable Industry in die Popes Service, and a Cardinals Cap he had had, my beloved, as sure as a Gun, had not that Hag of a Spinster Atropos clipt, I will not say the plain Thread, but the silken twist of his Immortality-deserving life, just in the very juncture of Time, or as I may so say, in the very nick: just when the Roman Catholick Lords in the Tower had concluded upon the business: and there's no Man can think they could have fail'd of their intercessions at Rome. Nay I dare say my Beloved, the Lord Stafford himself would have risen again, rather than he should have gone without it. And did he not deserve a Princely Purple Diademd' ye think? Has he not from the first beginning, or at least as soon as he durst for his Ears, been always snarling at the Plot; has he not done all that lay in hispower to ridicule and render the Kings Evidence contemptible, to the inexpressible joy, rejoycing, gladness, com­fort, jocundness, delight, and pleasure of the drooping & every where detected Offenders, who had no friend to speak a good word in their [Page 7]cause, till our deceased Brother here, God rest his Soul, first open'd for Madam Cellier, and her Presbyterian Plot? Has he not to this purpose fill'd the Town and Country with his weekly, I may say almost daylyshreads of Wast paper, stufft with Flim and Flam, Tales of rosted Horses, An­tipendiums and Screws? Has he not laboured, like Sisyphus in Hell, to engage the Nation in a universal quarrel about his pitiful personal peeks, and silly foppish, idle and impertinent squabbles, and brabbles about Goats Wool? all about Papist or no Papist? And yet you may well believe, my beloved, that of twenty parts of the Nation, hardly eighteen ever car'd a straw whether he were a Papist or a Pipin-seller. Again, my beloved, was it not his weekly pra­ctice, that he might render himself redoubted and formidable to his Antagonists, the Enemies of Popery and Sham-Plots, like the Devil in Isaiah, to exalt himself upon the Mountain of the Congregation, to blazon his Gentility and his Parts, and like the Son of Vain-glory and self-conceit, to cry with Oliver, Nemo me impune lacessit, and make Instances upon it? On the other side, to degrade and debase his Opposers, to render 'em ridicu­lously contemptible, and to reduce 'em to Mites and Atomes, has he not all along outscolded Billingsgate, and outrail'd all the Course Com­plements [Page 8]of Blooms-bury, and Luteners-lane? Ha [...] he not taken upon him to be the Phaenix of ut­terance? Has he not taught the world in a most gentile and argumentative way to confound the Andoullians, or Whigs and Dissenters, with the con­vincing Epithites of Rogues, sawcy Rascals, Cox­combs, Monkies, Fools, spawn of the Devil, Scrib­ling Varlets, and comparing their expressions to the filth and nastiness of Piss-pots, Close-stools and Common-shoars, the certain effects of foul mouth'd Dotage, peevish Choler, and want o [...] better Reason? Has he not outdone Ramus and Burgersdicius, Smith and Keckerman in his impreg­nable Syllogisms of Ye lie, 'tis false, may I be damn'd if it be true, may my Soul be delivered up at the last day if it be so, with severa [...] other Ferio's and Darapti's of the same nature▪ the bold dashes of an Arbitrary Pen? Has he not by this means stiffly defended the gasping cause of Popery in this Nation, and furnish'd the Traytors themselves with words at least, if no [...] with Arguments, to defend and justifie thei [...] Treasons? True it is, there are thousands, who belive that Oats and Prance have done their King and Country better service than ever our dea [...] Brother, with all his Gentility and Grandeur or all his huffing and puffing and snarling a­gainst Parliament Priviledges, could ever pre­tend [Page 9]to, and I am apt to believe it among the rest. But the never aim'd at Cardinals Caps. 'Twas the Cardinals Cap that our dear Bro­ther had in his Head. I have wish'd it upon his Head an hundred times. However my beloved, since he miss'd this same Hat of Eminency in this world, I make no question but he will have one in the other world, and that not an ordina­ry Hat neither, but a Hat, a Princely Hat, of the best fashion, a Hat with Tossels, a Hat with Tossels, my beloved—Amen, so be it—

Hum—Hum—Hum—Hum—Hum—Hum— Hum—Hum—Hum—

I come now to open the words themselves— Then Eusthenes cry'd out, Ah Cruel Death, thou hast taken from us the most perfect of Men; How! the most perfect of Men That is my beloved the most perfect in his way; in his calling or profession, and thus he was the most perfect Observator in Europe. For he observ'd many things that no body could observe but himself. For he could observe a mote in a Whigs Eye no bigger than a Pins point; he observ'd Schism and Faction a­mong thousands that never dream't of it: He observ'd a Presbyterian Plot among those that never thought of it; by which means he attain'd to many great perfections, as Pasquilling, Libelling, inflaming, Boutesewing, Scolding, &c. Railing, which [Page 10]so increas'd his fame, that by general consent he was acknowledg [...]d, Yerker, Firker, Whip­ster, Scribler General of Tory-Land.

And now I have mentioned the word Whip­ster, I must tell ye my beloved, he was the best Whipster in England. For the time was, when he whipt Cats into Civility. 'Twas when he was a Youth, my beloved, and then he kept Birds, and then his Neighbours Cats came and kill'd his Birds; and then he kill'd his Neighbours Cats. Then came his Neighbours and said, why do you kill our Cats? and he answered and said, why do your Cats kill my Birds? This had like to have made as great a Division between our dear Brother and his Neighbours, as between Whig and Tory; till at length the Heavens found out a happy way of reconciliation. For said one among the rest, reverend for his grey hairs, and his grave utterance, if our Cats come any more to devour your Birds, there is a milder way to be taken, so that neither we may lose our Cats nor you your Birds: Sir, when any of our Cats came again to kill your Birds, do but catch the Cats, whip 'em well, and rub their Noses against the Cages, and the Cats will never come near your Birds any more. For Sir, as the burnt Child dreads the fire, so our whip'd Cats will dread your Catt-a-nine-tails— observe this ever [Page 11]while you live. This advice proceeding from one of the Nestor's of the Parish, he took it: so that when any of his Neighbours Cats came to kill his Birds, as I said before, he was still too cunning for 'em, and caught 'em; and when he had 'em, 'twas not all their mewing, or spitting, or scratching would serve their turn, he gave them School Correction, and taught 'em the sad inconvenience of watching his Cages. Howe­ver I must needs say this for him, that in whip­ping those Cats he us'd that moderation, and did it with that prudence and equal ballance be­tween Rigor and Compassion, that it was won­derful to behold in a Youth of his years: and it got him that renown, that there was hardly a Cat in the Parish that had stolen a piece of Cheese, or a bit of Bacon, or had broken an Earthen Pipkin in her privy searches of the But­tery Shelves, but was brought to our dear Bro­ther to be whipt. Upon which the Soothsayers being consulted, they all agreed, that as Midas's wealth, and Plato's Eloquence were portended, the one by the Emets, the other by the Bees that fed them with Wheat and Hony in their Cra­dles, so that Cat-whipping prudence was look'd on as a prognostication of our dear Brothers future Grandeur, and that as the Cats had been refor­med by the lashes of his Hand, so the Whigs [Page 12]should be reformed by the lashes of his Pen.

This Man, this Person of these perfections has Death, Cruel Death taken from us. Death himself is turn'd Whig, to deprive the Tories of their Darling and their Idol. The Thamuz, the Adonis of Toryland is departed, Death, Cruel Death, Factious, Schismatical, Presbyterian Death has taken him away from us: Let the Virgins of Toryland bewail him annually among the Mountains.

Henceforth may Coffee lose its vertue, and Tea it's operation, since he is gone, that was the Soul of all Coffee-Houses, and the delight of those that love to dung and read at the same time.

Hum, hum, hum—

But now, we would fain know what Death has done with him? Death has got him in his clutches, and therefore, I say, what has he done with him? Heaven forbid that Death in a pee­vish humour should have taken our dear Bro­ther at his word; for he has promised, (that's the truth on't) to deliver up his Soul to the Devil at the last day, and given it under his hand in writing: [Page 13]so that whether the Devil will stay so long, or be so critical, as to take the last day, for the last day of his life, is the Question. And then again whether the Papists will admit him into Purga­tory, since he has renounced their Religion with such a testy, nonsensical imprecation is another question. For I must confess, 'tis my opinion that all the world ought sooner to believe Prance upon the customary way of assertion upon Oath, than our dear Brother upon a hot-headed piece of Choleric, and extrajudicial fu­ry, or rather extravagant Rodomontado of Tipsy Infusion. But we hope that neither the Pope nor his Jesuits will be so ungentile as to take notice of the failings of his Age, considering the good Service he has done 'em. For he only renounc'd the Queens Chapple, and not Popery nor Pur­gatory; He had a defference we hope for that White Fryars of the other World, where Heavens debtors can lie till they have compounded with Heaven; or else find an opportunity to give Beel­zebub the bag, by slipping out at the back door into Abrahams Bosom. And there it is that we al­so hope our dear Brother will call and stay by the way, rather than deliver up his Soul, so rashly as he talks of, as if he were to do a kind Act in discharge of his Bail. We may flatter our selves, that Pluto will entertain him [Page 14]like a Gentleman, let him deliver himself up when he pleases; but when we consider how he u­ses our dear Brothers Betters, Xerxes being in Hell, no more than a cryer of Mustard, Hannibal, a seller of Egg-shells, Priamus a shailler of Beans, Pope Alexander a Rat-catcher, and Boniface the Eighth a Chimney-Sweeper, it would grieve us my be­loved to meet our dear Brother hereafter in the Stygian shades, walking with a long stick upon his shoulders. But we hope that the Popish Lords have taken care of his future happiness as well as they did of his content in this world. However while we are in these Dilemma's in the midst of these fears, doubts and jealousies concerning our dear Brothers uncertain conditi­on, we may well cry out with the great Eust­henes, Ah Cruel Death, that hast taken from us the most perfect of Men.

Hum— Hum— Hum—

'Tis true, no Man can attain to perfection in this world; but our dear Brother had excellen­cies peculiar to himself, and therefore we may account him in some measure perfect as I have said already. Pray my beloved do not cavil with me about a word or two, when us'd to so good an end as the praise of our deceased Brother. He was the most excellent guide to the Inferiour Clergy that ever our Land produc'd. He walk'd [Page 15]before 'em like a sumptuous Fore-Horse in Peas­cod time, and lead 'em along as he pleas'd him­self with the Harmonious gingling of his pain­ted Collar. So that if any thing were wanting to this extraordinary Train, it was only that Celestial Constellation call'd Auriga, or the Car­ter, with his heavenly Geeho's and Haitho's for their Dri [...]er. Cambridge was not ignorant of this; and therefore was he by one of their Members quoted at St. Maries for an Author. Oh the Lear­ned, the Great, the blessed Observator; who knows but that in time he may stand in compe­tition with St. Ambrose, St. Austin, and St. Chry­sostome? I remember, my beloved, I have read of a certain Bird called Onocrotalus, a Bird resem­bling a Swan in shape and bigness, but most so­norously braying like an Ass. Ah—my beloved was not our dear Brother the Swan of our Age—

And then again how sweetly has he brayd a­gainst the Whigs once, twice, sometimes thrice a week? I say he brayd sweetly, gentilely, not like a Beast, but like a Bird: And why did he choose to bray my beloved? Oh my beloved he knew that the Whigs were a kind of Aegithi, or Hawks, that is to say, Birds of prey, that built [Page 16]their Nests among Thorns and Briars, that is a­mong Factions and Fractions, and that there was nothing so terrible to those Hawks as the bray­ing of an Ass; in so much that if they do but hear an Ass bray, they will spoyl their own Nests, and break their own Eggs out of meer fear and astonishment. Therefore my beloved, our dear Brother chose to bray: to the end he might scare the Whigs from their Nests, their Clubs and their Conventicles, and cause them to break their own Eggs, their Designs and their Plots and Contrivances. Ah my beloved, was there ever such an Onocrotalus as this? Heaven send us more such Onocrotalus's as thefe—

Hum—Hum—Hum—

But 'tis our comfort my beloved, he deceas'd in a good old Age; and tho he did not die a Martyr, yet he died as like one as five pence to a groat. He had many Enemies my be­loved. And indeed there is hardly any crea­ture either in the Water or the Air, or upon the Land, but has its peculiar Enemy. The Swan and the Eagle are always at Daggers drawing, so are the Weasel and the Crow, the Lyon and the Wolf. In the same manner did our dear Brother live in perpetual Antipa­thy with one or other to his dying, day. His Hand was against every body, and every bodies [Page 17]Hand against him. On the one side the Cares and the Curtiss's; on the other by the Baldwin's and Janeway's. Had he not been a right met­led Towzer indeed, they had worryed him to death. One tells him of his Coach and six Horses, which he kept by vertue of Phil-Por­ters Motto. Another rubs him up with the tale of the Printers Wife, to whom he had promis'd peculiar immunities when it was in his power, would she have condescended to have been his Elderships Susanna. Another twits him with the twenty pieces reconcilia­tion with the Bookseller near Mercers Chappel, upon which followed a Cessation of his Masters suit that employed him. Another swears him a Papist, nay another would have sworn him into a Plot to destroy the Plot itself. Lastly, when he thought to have thrown off all these things by taking the Sacrament, up starts another and takes the Sacrament with him in justification of what he had sworn, and so spoil'd all again. These and many other such snubs and rubs, and whirrets o'the Ear of his Reputation, were enough to have sunk a Person of a softer and milder temper long e're this. But ne Hercules contra duos; [Page 18]had he been Towner with as many heads as Cerberus, they would have worryed him at length; for I find they were resolved upon it. I wish these Butters a­gainst Anti-Christ may not have cause to repent it, and I hope to see the day when these Greek Kalends shall come. Those Grecian Kalends I have heard much talk of: O may the Sun and Moon bring 'em quickly about, that we may be at once avenged for the loss of our dear Brother, for he is gone, the most perfect of Men. He that, as it is said of the great Xenomanes had a memory that was like a Col­lonels Scarf, that would carry away a whole voyder of Sweet-meats at a time. An imagination like the jangling of a Country Steeple; whose thoughts were like a flight of Tel­fares; an understanding, like a torn prayer book; conceits like those of a Snail creeping out of a Strawbery Bed; the judgment of a shooing Horn; the discretion of a pair of Childrens mittens, and the reason of a Bartholomew fair Drum. And now my beloved let us weep a while over the Hearse of this great Person. May his emmory last as long as the Skeletons in [Page 19]St. Johns Library. He that offers to wipe with an Observator, may the piles vex him to his Grave. And may that Grocer break, and all his Plums rot, that uses those ho­ly sheets for wast paper. And may all Wash-balls moulder to dirt that shall ever be wrapt up in Whig and Tory. May they have the same charms as the Hankerchers dip't in Staffords blood, to cure the Meazles in Hogs, and the Pip in Chickens.

Laftly, my beloved, carry these dear Relicks of his fame alwaies about ye, like Zisca's Skin, as a terrour to the Whigs. So may our dear Brother live in his Eter­niz'd Lines, whom otherwise I fear me, this Ingrateful Age will soon forget.

But my beloved after all this there are a sort of People, that though they will not deny him to have been dead, yet obsti­nately affirm him to have been come to life again. For say they, should not so great a Hero as our Observator have as much priviledge as Lucian allows to Her­cules, Orpheus and Ulysses. Nay we find how the barking snarling Menippus cheated that same Devil of a Sculler Chavan himself, [Page 20]under the disguise of a Lyons skin, and a Club in his hand. And indeed my belo­ved the world is grown to that pass now, that men are become so vastly spiritualiz'd in craft and cunning, that it could be no disgrace for the Devil to be cheated by such a one as the Observa­tor, a Person that exceeded the Tyrant of Orcus in cunning and Romancing as much as that Infernal Monarch exceeded Jack Adams, or the Author of Valentine and Or­son, So that why he might not have the same Priviledge as Hercules, as being so great a Champion as he is; or as Orpheus being so great a Musitian as he is; or as U­lysses, being so eloquent and mellifluous, so vanquishing and persuasive an Orator as he is, that is to say, to go to Hell, and come back again, is more then I un­derstand. For as for Charon, there's no Man had more reason to be civil, and caress our dear Brother the Observator than he had, in regard that he was once an Observator himself. The Story is this my Beloved; (for you never knew a right Ser­mon without a Story) Charon having a mind to behold what busie Mortals did in [Page 21]this world, and what these things were of which they complain'd and houl'd so much to be deprived of in the other, he got Mercury to help him; who after much en­treaty did so, and so they two together set three or four high Mountains one upon another, from whence, as from a high Beacon, Charon had a full prospect of the whole Earth, and the vast Lake that encom­passes it: then he beheld the several swarms of Mortals in their little Nests, or rather Hives, call'd Towns and Cities. There he had a full view also of the folly of Regal Pomp and Riches; the vanity of worldly wisdom, the Errours and confusi­ons among Philosophers. There he be­held the busie multitudes of Hopes and Fears, Madness, Pleasure, Avarice, Anger, Hatred, and Jealousie, that plague and vex the world: and after he had observ'd as much as he could observe, Mercury and the Ferry-Man set the Mountains again in their places, and so the Observator Charon re­turned to his Employment, so then it is plain that many Persons of Fame and re­nown did make a journy to Hell, and re­turn'd back again, and why our Observator [Page 22]so renowned, and so famous, should not have the same priviledge, as I said before, is a thing hardly to be believed, especial­ly having two such good friends upon the Shore of the Stygian Ferry, as Mercu­ry the vafrous, and Charon his Brother Obser­vator, who would not refuse him any kind­ness that lay in their Power.

Others there are that say he was too hastily Interr'd; so that when he heard the Stones and the Brick-bats rattle about his Ears upon uttering the words Dust to Dust, he made a noise in the Coffin, and so was taken out again, like the Woman in Sussex to lead a new life in the old World.

Another sort there are who affirm, that they heard him cough in his Grave, as being one that us'd to drink in his Por­ridge; which occasioned his miraculous deliverance. But these my Beloved I fear me are meer surmizes, flashes and conceits of those that fain would have it so, as I among the rest could wish they were; and not meer stories like those of his own writing. Alass for he is certainly departed. He and his [Page 23]Friend Quevedo, now I think on't, went together into the other world some years since, to make new discoveries: and some few they made; but going to make more, were never heard of again.

But you will say we have several Ob­servators come out every week. 'Tis very true, a company of dull flat heavy Dialogues between Tory and Whig, with­out life or soul, not worth the glance of a Mans Eye; which is the more to be wondred at, considering how many seve­ral notions of other men, posted every foot in the Coffee-House Leiger Book, go to the forming and shaping of one non­sensical half sheet, wherein you are bound not to forget the Screws, and an Ironical [...]i [...]t upon Dr. Oats, of no concernment to any body else, either publick or private, but those that are afraid of their Testimony.

But let the Observator be dead or a­live, 'tis not a half-penny matter, you have heard the reason of this Memento Mori: Neither is it an unusual thing for great Persons to have their Tombs and Monuments erected in their life Times. [Page 24]However 'tis most certain he must die at one time or other, and he had as good make use of this kind Encomium, as impose upon his Executors to pay two broad pieces for another that may prove worse.