chiavell of the Jews, cannot scare most princes out of his path; and how many kings have failed to set up altars, both at Bethel and Dan, when they think their power may be weakened by the people going to Jerusalem? Saul, being a private man, went to the prophet to ask after his father's asses; but, being a king, went to the devil to know the success of a battle.

Christ himself saith, Not many great, not many mighty are called men in soft raiment may be found at court, but their consciences are commonly seared and hard.

This makes me think, the wise men, that came from far to see our Saviour, thought him an earthly prince, and not the King of Heaven, else they would never have sought him in the court of Herod, from whence nothing could come but cruelty and oppression.

The church of Rome, that did anciently deserve honour of all the world, after it came to be a court, grew fruitful only in impiety; and, though we do acknowledge her still to be a church, because she hath all the lineaments of religion in her, yet they are so blended in supersti. tion, pomp, and cruelty, that it is no easy task to find the truth amongst them. For as a good fruit-tree leaves not to be the same as it was before, though covered and embraced with ivy and ill-weeds, the natural daughters of time, which neither spare things sacred nor prophane; so Rome may be called a church still, though covered with trash and idle ceremonies; in which the pope and the cardinals shroud themselves, so as, if knowledge, occasioned by the illumination of God, had not houted them out of some corners of the world, they had not only made good, by an unquestioned prescription, those errors in being, but brought in more; and, being themselves masters of all temporal estates, and were there nothing else against them, but greatnesss and impiety, it were enough to convince them of falshood and novelty: pride is acknowledged by all to be the root of ill; now where doth it prosper so well, or grow so strong as in princes, and such as do attend on their affairs? The effects of which sin can be contained in no narrower compass, than the whole mass of impiety that is apt to commit; for it made Phocas to kill his master, Cæsar to overthrow the liberty of the bravest common-wealth that ever the world did, or is likely to behold; it prompts the hands of children to pull unseasonably the pillows from under the heads of their dying fathers; it is this that fills heaven and hell with souls, the earth with blood; this pride made Charles the Fifth to arm himself against his own pope, that very year in which God had done him the honour to take one of the greatest monarchs in Christendom prisoner; it caused his son Philip to mingle the blood of his own child with the infinite quantity he spilt upon the face of Europe; yet his thirst could not be quenched, though he set a new world a-broach in America, which he let run till it was as void of people, as he was of pity.

Is a prince named in any chronicle, but in red letters? Nay, what are chronicles: registers of blood, and projects to procure it, yet none blames them that write them. I do not intend to make an apology for him, being so well acquainted with the miseries of those, that are so un

happy as to fall under the government of such principles; all I aim at is, to prove that, if he were justly arraigned, he could not be condemned by men in like place, who ever were his peers, if not worse, because advice without execution hurts only the giver.

Yet Machiavell saith, what prince had not rather be Titus than Nero? But, if he will needs be a tyrant, he shews him the way that is least hurtful to his temporal estate, as if he should say, thou hast made thyself already an enemy to God and thy people, and hast nothing to hope for, beyond the honour of this world, therefore, to keep thee from the fury of men, be sure thou art perfectly wicked, a task not hitherto performed, it being yet beyond example, that any tyrant should perform all the mischief that was requisite for his safety, no more than the best kings did ever all the good; and of this he makes Cæsar Borgia, Alexander the Sixth's son, a pattern, who removed all the impediments that stood between him and his desires, and provided against all cross accidents but his own; being sick at the time of his father's death, which hindered him so, as he had no leisure to attend his business, which was to make one succeed in his father's place, that might, at least, have favoured his projects: but I verily believe, as I see by daily experience, that those which go on in the same track, though they have brought their purposes to as happy a conclusion, yet they shall not want impediments, or discontents, that shall out-talk the pleasure of their ambition; but, since it is oftentimes the will of God to give success to ill means wisely contrived, who can advise better than this Florentine? A member of the Roman church, and is, in that regard, to be less blamed, because he had as much religion as the pope then in being; with whom all impieties were as familiar as the air he breathed in.

Neither are these rules he speaks of omitted in the best kings, if they be wise; for which of them doth not dispatch his ungrateful actions by deputies; and those that are popular with his own hands? Do any observe their promise so exactly, as not to fail when they see the profit greater than can be expected at another time? And all this he saith only to a prince. For, had he given those documents to a son, or any other that had filled any narrower room than a kingdom, he might, with juster reason, have undergone all censure; but, being to make a grammar for the understanding of tyrannical government, is he to be blamed for setting down the general rules of such princes? Now, if falshood and deceit be not their true dialect, let any judge that reads their stories: nay, cosenage is reduced into so necessary an art amongst them, that he, that knows not how to deceive, knows not how to live. That breach of faith, in private men, is damnable, and dishonourable, he cannot deny; but kings seem to have larger charters, by reason of their universal commerce; and, as ambassadors may be excused, if they lye abroad for the good of their country, because they representtheir masters persons: with far greater reason may they do it, than they that employ them, provided they turn not the edge of these qualities towards their own people, to whom they are tied in a more natural and honest obli

For a common-wealth is like a natural body, and, when it is all together, shews a comely structure; but search into the intrails, from whence the true nourishment proceeds, and you shall find nothing but blood, filth and stench: the truth is, this man hath raked too far in this, which makes him smell as he doth in the nostrils of ignorant people; whereas the better experienced know, it is the wholesome savour of the court, especially where the prince is of the first head.

A

DESCRIPTION OF THE SECT

CALLED

THE FAMILY OF LOVE:

With their common Place of Residence.

Being discovered by one Mrs. Susanna Snow, of Pirford near Chertsey, in the County of Surrey, who was vainly led away for a Time, through their base allurements, and at length fell mad, till by a great Miracle shewn from God, she was delivered.

O Israel, trust in the Lord, for in the Lord there is mercy, and with him is plenteous Redemption. Psal. cxxx.

London printed, 1641. Quarto, containing six pages.

IT was in the county of Surrey, at a village called Pirford, three miles from Chertsey, there dwelt a gentleman by name Snow, who had to his daughter a very beautiful and religious gentlewoman, who was not only a joy to the father, but also an exceeding joy to the mother; she had not long gladded the hearts of her parents, with a virtuous and dutiful behaviour, when the devil, arch enemy to mankind, sought to subvert and eradicate this well planted virtue, and thus it happened:

This gentlewoman, Mrs. Susanna Snow, for so was she called, holding prattle with one of her father's men, one day began to question with him about the new sects of religion which now were so much talked of, enquiring what news he heard of any of them.

He answered, that it was his chance to be at a little village called Bagshot, not six miles from thence, where he heard of a company that

got residence there, and every day had a meeting in a private place, which was mistrusted to be about the sign of the Buck, and they called themselves, The Family of Love; and most have a great suspicion that they came from London, and their number is about an hundred; but he told her it was the talk of the whole country. This Mrs. Susanna heard with patience, and marked with diligence every particular; she gave the servant but little answer, but she vowed in her heart to see the fashions of this sect. Well, night grew on, and to bed they went; but she prevented the early sun in being up before her, so great a desire had this poor gentlewoman to thrust herself into danger. After she had broke her fast, and caused her man to set a side-saddle on a gelding, alone she took her journey, vowing not to return, till she had seen some of their behaviours which were of the family of love.

Thus she rode along undisturbed by meeting any passengers, till she came within half a mile of the village of Bagshot; but then she saw at the least an hundred persons, men and women, crossing over the heath, bending their course towards a wood called Birch-wood; to themwards she rides, and overtaking a sister which lagged behind the rest, she cried, well overtaken, sister; the sister of the family bid her welcome. Sister, quoth Mrs. Susanna, is your habitation here about Bagshot? The sister answered, That she sojourned in Bawwago. Then quoth she, sure you can resolve me one question, which is this, Do you know of any that came from London lately; there were about the number of an hundred, I was of the company, but they came away unknown unto me; and I heard that they sojourn here about this coast. The silly sister was not aware of her guile which she spoke, but answered her, that this was the company she meant sure. Mrs. Susanna asked again, Are these of the family? she answered, yes. Then Mrs. Susanna rode after, and overtook them, where this woman revealed the conference she had with Mrs. Susanna, and how that she thought her to be very zealously affected to the family; on these words, although she were unknown, yet she was entertained into their society, and went along with them.

Now you must understand that they have certain days, which are dedicated unto saints as they call them, as to Ovid, who wrote the art of loving; to Priapus, the first bawdy butcher that ever did stick pricks in flesh, and make it swell, and to many others, which they used to spend in poetising in the woods; thither they come, and after many pastimes there enacted, the poet desired them to sit down on the green, and then he began to speak most strong language, as this or the like, Let not us persuade ourselves, although that many would have us to believe it, that our great god Cupid is obcecated, for he penetrateth the intrails of the most magnamimous; after these or the like words, he recited part of a verse from Virgil's epigrams:

Non stat bene mentula crassa.

built his whole discourse, venting very strange obscene passages; after this was done, they go to dinner, where they had exceeding delicates, and after this repast they provided to return. Now here you must note, that the poet, viewing this new sister of the family, was so mightily inflamed with her, that either he must enjoy or perish; when they were walking home, therefore, he singled her out from the rest of the company, and spoke to her as follows:

Fair sister, hard is that task, where I must die in silence, or else present unto you an unseemly suit; but so irksome is death, and so pleasant the enjoyment of my wishes, that I rather desire to be counted unmannerly than not amorous to your beauteous self.'

With these and such like words he courted her, till at length time and opportunity both favoured him so much, that she plaid a maids part indeed; she said, nay, and yet took it. This novice, having had his desire, conducted her to the company, and there left her among the rest of the sisters, where she staid for the space of a whole week, viewing their fashions, as the manner of their prayers, of their preaching, of their christening and burying, with many more things which will be too long for this little pamphlet to bear.

Now when she had seen as she thought enough, she stole away from them, not ceasing to think of the wrong she had sustained, by her consenting to the lust of the poetical brother; well, discontented she passed the way till she came in the presence of her father; he asked with very mild and loving terms, where she had been; she answered him, at her aunt's at Oakingham; with which answer her father was satisfied, but her mother was not, because she had sent thither before, to see if she had been there; yet her mother could get no other answer from her, than that she had been there; but seeing that she was come home again, they questioned the matter no more where she had been. But she had not been at home long, when she began to delight to be by herself, and to make much of melancholy, taknig delight in nothing, wherein she did heretofore; this her loving parents took notice of, but would not speak of it, and thus she continued for the space of ten or fourteen days; at last, she began to be very untowardly, and they could not rule her, for she would break glasses and earthen ware, and throw any thing at the heads of the servants, and incontinent she fell stark mad. I cannot express her father's grief, when he saw his only beloved daughter in this plight; but I will leave you to judge of it who have children of your own, how it would grieve you to see your children in such a plight. Her father, although he were almost distracted with grief to see his child thus lie on the wreck of misfortune, summons up his senses together, and at length he thought upon one Mr. Ybder, a very honest man, and a most reverend divine, living in Oxford; to him he sent, requesting him of all loves that he would come, and visit him in this his great distress; he presently dispatched horse and man, for Oxford they were bound. The man coming to Mr. Ybder's chamber, which is in Magdalen Hall, he found him within,