times cast a figure, he at last satisfyed himself that the Episcopal Government would endure as long as this King lived; and from thence forward cast about how to be admitted into the Church of England, and find the highway to her preferments.  In order to this he daily enlarged, not only his conversation, but his conscience, and was made free of some of the town-vices; imagining, like Muleasses King of Tunis (for I take witness that on all occasions I treat him rather above his quality than otherwise), that by hiding himself among the onions, he should escape being traced by his perfumes.  Ignorant and mistaken man, that thought it necessary to part with any virtue to get a living; or that the Church of England did not require and incourage more sobriety than he could ever be guilty of; whereas it hath alwayes been fruitful of men who, together with obedience to that discipline, have lived to the envy of the Nonconformists in their conversation, and without such could never either have been preserved so long, or after so long a dissipation have ever recover’d.  But neither was this yet, in his opinion, sufficient; and therefore he resolv’d to try a shorter path, which some few men had trod not unsuccessfully; that is, to print a Book; if that would not do, a second; if not that, a third of an higher extraction, and so forward, to give experiment against their former party of a keen stile and a ductile judgment.  His first proof-piece was in the year 1665, the Tentamina Physico-Theologica; a tedious transcript of his common-place book, wherein there is very little of his own, but the arrogance and the unparalleled censoriousness that he exercises over all other Writers.  When he had cook’d up these musty collections, he makes his first invitation to his ‘old acquaintance’ my lord Archbishop of Canterbury, who had never seen before nor heard of him.  But I must confess he furbishes-up his Grace in so glorious an Epistle, that had not my Lord been long since proof against the most spiritual flattery, the Dedication only, without ever reading the Book, might have serv’d to have fix’d him from that instant as his favourite.  Yet all this I perceive did not his work, but his Grace was so unmindful, or rather so prudent, that the gentleman thought it necessary to spur-up again the next year with another new Book, to show more plainly what he would be at.  This he dedicates to Doctor Bathurst; and to evidence from the very Epistle that he was ready to renounce that very education, the civility of which he is so tender of as to blame me for disordering it, he picks occasion to tell him:  ’to your prevailing advice, Sir, do I owe my first rescue from the chains and fetters of an unhappy education.’  But in the Book, which he calls ‘A free and impartial Censure of the Platonick Philosophy’ (censure ’tis sure to be, whatsoever he writes), he speaks out, and demonstrates himself ready and equipp’d to surrender not only the Cause, but betray his Party without making any conditions for them, and