How a man could have published so coolly a book in which he was himself held up as a rogue and swindler passes Milton's comprehension; but Ulac, he seems to admit, was no ordinary tradesman.
For poor Morus himself there is not an atom of mercy yet.

All his dexterous pleading, all his declarations of innocence, all his pathetic appeals, all his citations of the decisions in his favour in the Bontia case by the Walloon Synod and the Supreme Court of Holland, are simply trampled under foot, and the charges formerly made against him are ruthlessly reiterated as true nevertheless.
There are even additional details, and fresh charges of the same kind, derived from more recent information.

The plan adopted by Milton is to go over the _Fides Publica_, extracting phrases and sentences from it, and commenting on each extract; but the general effect of the book is that of the ruthless chasing round and round of the poor ecclesiastic in a biographical ellipse, the two foci of which are Geneva and Leyden.
Distinct evidence is produced that both at Geneva and in Holland the _fama_ against Morus was still as strong as ever.

The evidence takes the form of extracts from two letters received by Milton since the _Fides Publica_ had appeared;-- _From a Letter from Geneva, dated Oct.

14, 1654_ (i.e.from that letter of Ezekiel Spanheim of which Milton had told Spanheim that he meant to avail himself, though without mentioning the writer's name: sec ante pp.