







 
   
     
       
         The committee; or popery in masquerade
         L'Estrange, Roger, Sir, 1616-1704.
      
       
         
           1681
        
      
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         A47830
         Wing L1227
         ESTC R216545
         99828272
         99828272
         32699
         
           
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             The committee; or popery in masquerade
             L'Estrange, Roger, Sir, 1616-1704.
          
           1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill.
           
             printed by Mary Clark, for Henry Brome, at the Gun in St. Paul's Church-yard,
             London :
             1681.
          
           
             Attributed to L'Estrange by Wing.
             Text printed in four columns.
             Upper half of the sheet is an engraved allegorical plate, attacking Commonwealth Parliamentarians, the Solemn League and Covenant, the regicides, and various dissenting sects.
             Reproduction of the original in the British Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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         eng
      
       
         
           Dissenters, Religious -- England -- Controversial literature -- Early works to 1800.
           Religion and politics -- England -- Early works to 1800.
           Lampoon -- Early works to 1800.
           Religious satire, English -- Early works to 1800.
           Great Britain -- History -- Restoration, 1660-1688 -- Humor -- Early works to 1800.
        
      
    
     
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               THE
               COMMITTEE
               or
               Popery
               in
               Masquerade
               .
            
          
        
      
       
         
         
           THE
           EXPLANATION
           .
        
         
           
             BEhold
             Here
             ,
             in
             This
             Piece
             ,
             the
             Plague
             ,
             the
             Fate
          
           
             Of
             a
             
               Seditious
               Schism
            
             in
             Church
             ,
             and
             State
             :
          
           
             Its
             Rise
             ,
             and
             Progress
             ;
             with
             the
             dire
             Event
          
           
             Of
             a
             
               Blind
               Zeal
            
             ,
             and
             a
             
               Pack'd
               Parliament
            
             .
          
           
             It
             was
             
               This
               Medly
            
             that
             Confounded
             All
             ;
          
           
             This
             damn'd
             Concert
             of
             Folly
             and
             Cabal
             ,
          
           
             That
             Ruin'd
             us
             :
             For
             ye
             must
             know
             ,
             that
             Fools
          
           
             Are
             but
             
               State-Engins
               ;
               Politicians
               Tools
            
          
           
             Ground
             to
             an
             Edg
             ,
             to
             Hack
             ,
             and
             Hew
             it
             out
             ;
          
           
             Till
             by
             
               Dull
               Sots
               Knaves
               Ends
            
             are
             brought
             about
             .
          
           
             Think
             on
             't
             ,
             my
             Masters
             ;
             and
             if
             e're
             ye
             see
          
           
             This
             Game
             play'd
             o're
             again
             ,
             then
             Think
             of
             Me.
             
          
        
         
           
             You
             'l
             say
             This
             Print's
             a
             Satyr
             .
             Against
             Whom
             ?
          
           
             Those
             that
             Crown'd
             
               Holy
               Charles
            
             with
             Martyrdom
             .
          
           
             By
             the
             same
             rule
             the
             Scripture
             you
             'l
             Traduce
             ,
          
           
             For
             saying
             Christ
             was
             Crucifi'd
             by
             th'
             Iews
             :
          
           
             Nay
             ,
             and
             their
             Treasons
             too
             agreed
             in
             This
             ;
          
           
             By
             
               Pharisees
               Betray'd
            
             ;
             and
             with
             a
             Kiss
             :
          
           
             Conscience
             ,
             the
             
               Cry
               ;
               Emanuel
            
             was
             the
             Word
             ;
          
           
             The
             Cause
             ,
             the
             Gospel
             ,
             but
             the
             Plea
             ,
             the
             Sword.
             
          
        
         
           
             [
             A
             ]
             Now
             lay
             your
             Ear
             close
             to
             that
             Nest
             of
             Heads
             .
          
           
             Look
             ,
             don't
             ye
             see
             a
             
               Streaming
               Ray
            
             ,
             that
             sheds
          
           
             A
             Light
             from
             the
             Cabal
             down
             to
             the
             Table
             ;
          
           
             T'
             inspire
             ,
             and
             Push
             on
             an
             
               Enthusiast
               Rabble
            
             ?
          
           
             In
             
               That
               Box
            
             sits
             a
             Iunto
             in
             Debate
             ,
          
           
             Upon
             their
             Sovereigns
             and
             
               Three
               Kingdoms
               Fate
            
             :
          
           
             They
             're
             Hot
             ,
             and
             Loud
             enough
             .
             Attend
             'um
             pray'e
             ,
          
           
             From
             point
             to
             point
             ;
             and
             tell
             us
             what
             they
             say
             .
          
        
         
           
             Is
             it
             Resolv'd
             then
             that
             the
             King
             must
             Down
             ?
          
           
             Not
             for
             a
             World
             ;
             we
             'l
             only
             take
             his
             Crown
             :
          
           
             He
             shall
             have
             Caps
             ,
             and
             Knees
             still
             ;
             and
             the
             Fame
          
           
             Of
             a
             
               fair
               Title
            
             ,
             and
             
               Imperial
               Name
            
             :
          
           
             But
             for
             the
             Sword
             ;
             the
             Power
             of
             War
             ,
             and
             Peace
             ;
          
           
             Life
             and
             Death
             ;
             and
             such
             Fooleries
             as
             These
             ;
          
           
             We
             'l
             beg
             
               These
               Boons
            
             our
             selves
             :
             And
             Then
             ,
             in
             Course
             ,
          
           
             What
             cannot
             be
             Obtain'd
             by
             Prayer
             ,
             we
             'l
             Force
             .
          
           
             It
             rests
             ,
             now
             ,
             only
             ;
             by
             what
             Arts
             and
             Friends
             ,
          
           
             Methods
             ,
             and
             Instruments
             ,
             to
             gain
             
               These
               Ends.
            
             
          
        
         
           
             First
             ,
             make
             the
             People
             Sure
             ;
             and
             That
             must
             be
          
           
             By
             Pleas
             for
             
               Conscience
               ,
               Common
               Liberty
            
             :
          
           
             By
             which
             Means
             ,
             we
             secure
             a
             
               Popular
               Voice
            
          
           
             For
             Knights
             and
             Burgesses
             ,
             in
             the
             
               Next
               Choice
            
             .
          
           
             If
             we
             can
             get
             an
             
               Act
               ,
               Then
               ,
               to
               Sit
               on
            
          
           
             Till
             we
             
               Dissolve
               our Selves
            
             ,
             the
             work
             's
             Half-done
             .
          
           
             In
             the
             mean
             while
             ,
             the
             Pulpits
             ,
             and
             the
             Presses
          
           
             Must
             ring
             of
             
               Popery
               ,
               Grievances
               ,
               Addresses
            
             ,
          
           
             Plots
             of
             all
             Sorts
             ,
             
               Invasions
               ,
               Massacres
            
             ,
          
           
             Troops
             under
             Ground
             ,
             Plague-Plaisters
             ,
             Cavaliers
             :
          
           
             Till
             ,
             Mad
             with
             Spite
             and
             Iealousie
             ,
             the
             Nation
          
           
             Cry
             out
             ,
             as
             One
             Man
             ,
             for
             a
             Reformation
             .
          
        
         
           
             Having
             thus
             gain'd
             the
             Rabble
             ;
             it
             must
             be
             our
          
           
             
               Next
               Part
            
             ,
             the
             Common-Council
             to
             secure
             :
          
           
             And
             then
             ;
             let
             
               King
               ,
               Law
               ,
               Church
            
             ,
             and
             Court-Cabal
          
           
             Vnite
             ,
             and
             do
             their
             Worst
             ;
             we
             'l
             Stand
             'em
             All.
          
           
             Our
             Design
             's
             This
             ;
             to
             Change
             the
             Government
             ;
          
           
             Set
             up
             our
             Selves
             ;
             and
             do
             't
             by
             a
             Parliament
             .
          
           
             And
             This
             t'
             effect
             needs
             only
             Resolution
             ;
          
           
             We
             'l
             leave
             the
             Tumults
             to
             do
             Execution
             .
          
           
             The
             
               Popish
               Lords
            
             must
             
               Out
               ,
               Bishops
            
             must
             Down
             ;
          
           
             Strafford
             must
             Dye
             ;
             and
             Then
             ,
             have
             at
             the
             Crown
             .
          
           
             We
             will
             not
             leave
             the
             
               King
               ,
               One
               Minister
            
             ;
          
           
             The
             
               House
               ,
               One
               Member
            
             ;
             but
             what
             We
             Prefer
             :
          
           
             No
             nor
             the
             
               Church
               ,
               One
               Levite
            
             ;
             Down
             they
             go
             :
          
           
             We
             ,
             and
             the
             'Prentices
             will
             have
             it
             so
             .
          
        
         
           
             [
             B
             ]
             This
             was
             scarce
             sooner
             Said
             ,
             than
             the
             thing
             Done
             :
          
           
             For
             up
             starts
             
               Little
               Isaac
            
             ,
             in
             the
             Room
          
           
             Of
             
               Loyal
               Gourney
            
             ,
             with
             a
             Sword
             in
             's
             hand
             ;
          
           
             The
             Ensign
             of
             his
             New-usurpt
             Command
             :
          
           
             Out
             of
             his
             Mouth
             ,
             a
             Label
             ,
             to
             be
             True
          
           
             To
             the
             Design
             of
             the
             
               Caballing
               Crew
            
             :
          
           
             [
             C
             ]
             His
             Holiness
             at
             's
             Elbow
             ;
             Heart'ning
             on
             ,
          
           
             A
             
               Motly
               Schism
               ;
               Half-Pope
               ,
               Half-Puritan
            
             ;
          
           
             Who
             ,
             while
             they
             talk
             of
             Vnion
             ,
             bawl
             at
             Rome
             ;
          
           
             Revolt
             ,
             and
             set
             up
             Popery
             at
             Home
             .
          
        
         
           
             [
             D
             ]
             Now
             ,
             bring
             your
             Eye
             down
             to
             the
             Board
             ;
             and
             see
          
           
             Th'
             Agreement
             of
             that
             Blest
             Fraternity
             :
          
           
             
               Cov'nanters
               All
            
             ;
             and
             by
             
               That
               Holy
               Band
            
          
           
             
               Sworn
               En'mies
            
             to
             th'
             Establisht
             Law
             o'
             th'
             Land.
          
           
             These
             are
             the
             Men
             that
             Plague
             all
             Parliaments
          
           
             For
             the
             
               Impossible
               Expedients
            
          
           
             Of
             making
             
               Protestant
               Dissenters
               ,
               One
            
             ,
          
           
             By
             Acts
             of
             Grace
             ,
             or
             Comprehension
             :
          
           
             When
             by
             their
             very
             
               Principles
               ,
               each
               other
            
          
           
             Thinks
             himself
             bound
             to
             Persecute
             his
             Brother
             .
          
           
             They
             never
             Did
             ,
             they
             never
             Can
             Unite
          
           
             In
             any
             
               one
               Point
            
             ,
             but
             t'
             o'rethrow
             the
             Right
             :
          
           
             Nor
             is
             't
             at
             all
             th'
             Intent
             of
             
               Their
               Debate
            
          
           
             To
             fix
             Religion
             ,
             but
             t'
             embroil
             the
             State
             ;
          
           
             Ill
             Accidents
             and
             Humours
             to
             improve
             ,
          
           
             Under
             the
             fair
             Pretexts
             of
             Peace
             ,
             and
             Love
             ;
          
           
             To
             serve
             the
             Turn
             of
             an
             
               Vsurping
               Power
            
             .
          
           
             But
             read
             the
             Minutes
             ,
             and
             They
             'l
             tell
             ye
             More
             .
          
        
         
           
             [
             E
             ]
             Take
             a
             view
             ,
             next
             ,
             of
             the
             Petitioners
             .
          
           
             But
             why
             ,
             (
             you
             'l
             say
             )
             like
             Beasts
             to
             th'
             Ark
             in
             Pairs
             ?
          
           
             Not
             to
             expose
             the
             Quaker
             ,
             and
             the
             Maid
             ,
          
           
             (
             By
             Lust
             to
             those
             Brutalities
             betray'd
             )
          
           
             As
             if
             
               those
               two
               Sects
            
             more
             addicted
             stood
          
           
             To
             Mares
             ,
             and
             Whelps
             ,
             than
             
               other
               Flesh
               and
               Blood
            
             :
          
           
             No
             ,
             But
             they
             're
             coupled
             Here
             ,
             only
             to
             tell
          
           
             The
             Harmony
             of
             their
             
               Reforming
               Zeal
            
             .
          
        
         
           
             [
             F
             ]
             Now
             wash
             your
             Eyes
             ,
             and
             see
             their
             Secretarius
          
           
             Of
             
               Vncouth
               Visage
               ;
               Manners
            
             most
             Nefarious
             ;
          
           
             Plac'd
             betwixt
             Pot
             and
             Pipe
             ,
             with
             
               Pen
               and
               Paper
            
             ;
          
           
             To
             shew
             that
             he
             can
             
               Scribble
               ,
               Tope
            
             ,
             and
             Vapour
             :
          
           
             Beside
             him
             ,
             (
             craving
             Blessing
             )
             a
             
               Sweet
               Babby
            
             ;
          
           
             (
             Save
             it
             !
             )
             the
             very
             Image
             of
             the
             Daddy
             !
          
           
             He
             deals
             in
             
               Sonnets
               ,
               Articles
            
             ,
             takes
             Notes
             ,
          
           
             Frames
             
               Histories
               ,
               Impeachments
            
             ,
             enters
             Votes
             ,
          
           
             Draws
             Narratives
             ,
             (
             for
             
               Four
               Pound
            
             )
             very
             well
             ;
          
           
             But
             then
             't
             is
             
               Forty
               more
            
             ,
             to
             Pass
             the
             Seal
             .
          
           
             Beside
             his
             Faculty
             ,
             at
             a
             
               Dry
               Bob
            
             ,
          
           
             That
             brings
             him
             many
             a
             comfortable
             Job
             .
          
        
         
           
             [
             G
             ]
             Mark
             ,
             Now
             ,
             Those
             Club-men
             ;
             That
             
               Tumultuous
               Rout
            
          
           
             
               Crown
               ,
               Bible
               ,
               Magna
               Charta
               ,
            
             under
             Foot
             !
          
           
             Those
             
               Banners
               ,
               Trophies
            
             ;
             and
             the
             Execrable
          
           
             Rage
             ,
             and
             Transports
             of
             an
             
               Incensed
               Rabble
            
             !
          
           
             Here
             ,
             the
             
               Three
               States
            
             in
             Chains
             ;
             and
             There
             ,
             the
             Head
          
           
             Of
             a
             
               Good
               King
            
             ,
             by
             
               Rebels
               Murthered
            
             .
          
           
             And
             all
             this
             while
             ,
             the
             Creatures
             of
             Those
             Knaves
             ,
          
           
             That
             blew
             the
             Coal
             ,
             themselves
             ,
             the
             greatest
             Slaves
             .
          
           
             What
             Devil
             could
             make
             Men
             Mad
             ,
             to
             This
             Degree
             ?
          
           
             Only
             
               mistaken
               Zeal
            
             ,
             and
             Iealousie
             .
          
           
             
               Liberty
               ,
               Conscience
               ,
               Popery
            
             ,
             the
             Pretence
             ;
          
           
             
               Rapine
               ,
               Blood
               ,
               Sacriledge
            
             ,
             the
             Consequence
             .
          
        
         
           
             [
             H
             ]
             Let
             's
             Cross
             the
             way
             ,
             Now
             ,
             to
             the
             Doctors
             Side
             .
          
           
             'T
             is
             a
             good
             ,
             
               pretty
               Girl
            
             ,
             that
             holds
             his
             Head
             !
          
           
             
               What
               's
               his
               Disease
               ,
               Sweet-heart
            
             ?
             Nay
             ,
             That
             's
             a
             Question
             ;
          
           
             His
             Stomach
             's
             Foul
             ,
             perhaps
             ,
             't
             is
             
               Ill
               Digestion
            
             ;
          
           
             But
             't
             is
             a
             mercy
             ,
             't
             comes
             so
             finely
             away
             :
          
           
             Here
             's
             
               Canons
               ,
               Surplices
               ,
               Apocrypha
            
             !
          
           
             
               Look
               what
               a
               Lump
               there
               lies
               of
            
             Common-Prayer
             .
          
           
             Ay
             ,
             but
             the
             
               Cross
               in
               Baptism
            
             ,
             that
             lies
             There
             :
          
           
             O
             ,
             how
             he
             Reacht
             ;
             and
             still
             ,
             as
             I
             provok'd
             him
             ,
          
           
             He
             'd
             Heave
             for
             Life
             ;
             't
             was
             Ten
             to
             One
             't
             had
             Choakt
             him
             !
          
           
             
               Nay
               verily
               ;
               This
               Stuff
               ,
               in
            
             Holder-forth
             ,
          
           
             
               May
               be
               as
               much
               as
               a
               man's
               Life
               is
               worth
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             
               How
               Do
               ye
               Sir
            
             ?
             Why
             somewhat
             more
             at
             Ease
             ,
          
           
             Since
             I
             've
             Discharg'd
             these
             
               Legal
               Crudities
            
             .
          
           
             
               But
               if
               your
               Stomach
               be
               so
               extremely
               Nice
            
             ;
          
           
             
               What
               Course
               d'
               ye
               take
            
             ?
             O
             ,
             I
             have
             Good
             Advice
             :
          
           
             All
             the
             
               Dissenting
               Protestant-Divines
            
             ;
          
           
             There
             's
             not
             a
             man
             in
             the
             whole
             Club
             ,
             but
             Joyns
             .
          
           
             
               This
               Pect'ral
            
             ,
             ●ou
             must
             know
             ,
             keeps
             me
             alive
             ;
          
           
             
               Sequester'd
               Livings
            
             are
             Preservative
             !
          
           
             But
             for
             the
             Sovereign
             Remedy
             of
             all
             ,
          
           
             The
             Only
             ,
             
               never-failing
               Cordial
            
             ;
          
           
             There
             't
             is
             upon
             
               That
               Shelf
            
             :
             That
             Composition
          
           
             Th'
             Assembly
             Took
             ,
             it
             self
             ,
             in
             
               my
               Condition
            
             .
          
           
             The
             Tears
             of
             
               Widows
               ,
               Orphans
               Hearts
            
             ,
             and
             Blood
          
           
             They
             made
             their
             
               daily
               Drink
            
             ,
             their
             
               daily
               Food
            
             :
          
           
             Behold
             our
             
               Christian
               Cannibal's
               Oblation
            
             ,
          
           
             To
             auspicate
             their
             
               Moloch
               Reformation
            
             .
          
        
         
           
             [
             I
             ]
             
               Well!
               But
               what
               means
               This
            
             Excremental
             Swarm
          
           
             Of
             Humane
             Insects
             ?
             
               How
               they
               Fret
               ,
               and
               Storm
            
             ;
          
           
             
               Grin
               at
               the
               Vomit
               ;
               and
               yet
               for
               all
               this
               Pother
            
             ;
          
           
             
               At
               the
               same
               Time
               ,
               lie
               teizing
               one
               another
               .
            
          
           
             Alas
             !
             'T
             is
             too
             ,
             too
             true
             ,
             you
             've
             hit
             my
             Grief
             :
          
           
             And
             there
             's
             no
             Help
             ,
             no
             Help
             for
             't
             ;
             no
             Relief
             .
          
           
             While
             They
             joyn'd
             Hands
             with
             Vs
             ,
             against
             the
             Crown
             ,
          
           
             And
             
               Church
               ;
               How
               sweetly
               the
               Lords
               Work
               went
               on
            
             !
          
           
             But
             when
             we
             came
             to
             plant
             our
             Directory
             ,
          
           
             '
             Bless
             me
             ,
             what
             Freaks
             they
             play'd
             !
             
               you
               know
               the
               Story
            
             .
          
           
             Oh!
             of
             themselves
             ,
             they
             're
             e'en
             a
             
               Vip'rous
               Brood
            
             ;
          
           
             Begot
             in
             Discord
             ,
             and
             
               brought
               up
            
             with
             Blood.
          
           
             'T
             was
             We
             that
             gave
             'em
             
               Life
               ,
               Credit
            
             ,
             and
             Name
             ,
          
           
             Till
             the
             
               Vngrateful
               Brats
            
             devour'd
             their
             Dam.
             
          
        
         
           
             
               What
               could
               ye
               look
               for
               else
               ?
               For
               't
               is
               Dominion
               ,
            
          
           
             
               That
               you
               do
               all
               contend
               for
               ,
               not
            
             Opinion
             .
          
           
             
               If
               you
               'l
               have
            
             any
             Government
             ;
             
               then
               say
            
             ,
          
           
             
               Which
               Party
               shall
            
             Command
             ,
             
               and
               which
            
             Obey
             .
          
           
             Power
             
               is
               the
               thing
               ye
               both
            
             Affect
             ,
             and
             Hate
             ,
          
           
             Every
             one
             would
             ,
             
               ye
               Cannot
               ,
               All
               be
               Great
               .
            
          
           
             This
             is
             ,
             in
             
               short
               ,
               the
               Sum
               of
               the
            
             Contest
             ;
          
           
             Still
             He
             that
             's
             Up
             ,
             
               's
               an
               Eye-sore
               to
               the
            
             Rest.
          
           
             Presbytery
             breeds
             Worms
             :
             This
             Maggot-Fry
          
           
             
               Is
               but
               the
            
             Spawn
             of
             Lawless
             Liberty
             .
          
           
             
               License
               ,
               is
               like
               a
               Sea-Breach
               to
               your
               Grounds
            
             ;
          
           
             
               Suffer
               but
               One
               Flaw
               ,
               the
               whole
               Country
               Drowns
               .
            
          
        
      
    
     
       
         
           LONDON
           :
           Printed
           by
           Mary
           Clark
           ,
           for
           Henry
           Brome
           ,
           at
           the
           Gun
           in
           St.
           
           Paul's
           Church-yard
           ,
           1681.
           
        
      
    
  

