LETTER XVIII.
“He hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.”
To —
It would fill no small volume to relate the particulars of the bustle which took place in the above affair. The zeal, vigilance, activity and expense which so many put themselves to was really laughable. The above Doctor and his understrappers were all upon the alert, all the filth, lies, and rubbish that could be collected together, were brought him; these he put in order, fled to the printer with, and which were soon exposed for sale, no doubt for the benefit of the poor (to add to charity’s fame). This being calculated to disturb the peace, the printer was bound to keep the peace, by one of the magistrates, which put an end to the sale of this rubbish. But the Doctor had recourse to another expedient; he crossed the water to an awful enemy to all spiritual religion, and furnished him with plenty of the same rubbish for a Sunday Newspaper. I saw him enter the above shop myself, and I then told many persons we should have another budget of lies out next Sunday. Nor was I mistaken. This holy advocate for the suppression of vice, and keeping the Sabbath holy, now gave plenty of matter for the encouragement of vice, and the profanation of that day. Public-houses were again well stored, [91] to read about the infamous J. C.—Jews and Infidels, professed Christians, and profound Deists. There were “Parthians, Medes and Elamites, dwellers in Messopotamia, Egyptians and strangers,” all in a bustle. Some running one way, some another; one post ran to meet another, as if the city had been taken at both ends. Every one who had a little hope of interest picked up a stone, wrote a letter to his Holiness, or ran with some account of some bad action, some love letter I had written, some bad house I had visited—though as false as God was true. Yet this was credited, and swallowed down wholesale. Vast crowds assembled round the chapel on Sunday nights, so that the congregation had to pass through them as the Israelites through the Red Sea; but not a dog moved his tongue at them. Printing scurrillity was kept on weekly, till the public got tired of the old story over and over again. Nor were some of my well-wishers idle; some, in warmth, retaliated; others, more prudently, wrote mildly, and remonstrated in a scriptural manner with the Doctor, by word and writing. Some exercised their pens in satire and poetical effusions. Some of the copies of these I have still by me, and would present them to you, but they would take up too much room. And what good did all this do? None, but hurt the rising generation, and exposed the cause of God to ridicule. On the part of those adversaries who are zealous for the moral law, as their rule of life, surely they acted contrary to every law, to the ten commandments, the Judaical law of Moses, the gospel in every doctrine, and in every precept; the laws of wisdom, love, and kindness, and the excellent laws of our country. But I forgive them; and the only apology I can make for them is, that they did it with a good intent, and out of love to my soul; this was equally as loving to me, as the Hibernian woman to her husband, who being condemned to be hung clung round her dearest dear, reminded him how much she loved him, and said, as a proof of it, she came that morning to hang him herself, as she might as well have the money for it as any body else.—This was love indeed.—Farewell.
Yours, J. C.
When men of spite against me join,
They are the sword, the hand is thine.
P.S. Many wondered that I did not punish the weekly scribblers, but no; I am forbid I Corinth, vi. 1. And if I had a mind for it, they kept out of the way, either by the rules of the Fleet or the Bench—and what is the use of pursuing a flea? as David said to Saul—1 Sam. xxiv. 14.