ARTES
1817
SCIENTIA
VERITAS
LIBRARY
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
SE PLUNIOUS UNUT
TUEBOR
SI·QUÆRIS PENINSULAM AMŒNAM
CIRCUMISPICE
ގ
THE
MISCELLANEOUS
WORK
O F
JOHN DRYDEN, Efq;
Containing all his
S
ORIGINAL POEMS, TALES,
AND
TRANSLATIONS,
IN FOUR VOLUME S.
VOLUME THE FIRST.
LONDON:
Printed for J. and R. TONS ON in the Strand.
MDCC LXVII.
Erreilual
3
howe
11-14-24
20404
4 vol
THE
CONTENT S
OF THE
FIRST VOLUM E.
T
HE Life of Dryden
Verfes in Praife of Mr. Dryden
Upon the death of Lord Haftings
Heroic ftanzas on the death of Cliver Cromwell
Page v
X
I
6
Aftræa Redux, a poem on the Reſtoration of King
Charles II.
A Panegyric on the Coronation of Charles II.
An Addreſs to Lord Chancellor Hyde
Satire on the Dutch
13
24
28
33
To her royal highnefs the Duchefs, on the memorable
Victory gained by the Duke over the Hollanders,
June 3, 1665, and on her Journey into the North 35
Annus Mirabilis: The Year of Wonders, 1666, 37
Effay upon Satire. By Mr. Dryden and the Earl of-
Mulgrave
• Abfalom and Achitophel, Part I.
Ditto, Part II.
A Key to both Farts
A
4
ex
97
109
145
180
A
CONTENT S.
The Medal, a Satire against Sedition
Religio Laici, or a Layman's Faith
page 183
203
233
The Art of Poetry, by Mr. Dryden and Sir William
Soame
Threnodia Auguftalis, a funeral pindarick Poem, to`
the Memory of Charles II.
Veni Creator Spiritus, paraphrafed
268
285
1
The
The LIFE of
JOHN DRYDEN, Eq;
J°
OHN DRYDEN, Efq; was defcended of a wor-
thy family in Huntington thire, often ferving as
Repreſentatives for that County, and Son of Erafmus
Dryden of Tichmarfh, in Northamptonshire, third
Son of Sir Erafmus Dryden of Canons Afhby, in the
fame County, Baronet. He was born at Aldwinckle,
near Oundle, in that County, August 9, 1631, and
educated in Westminster School under Dr. Richard
Bufby, being one of the King's Scholars upon the
Royal Foundation, as he tells us himſelf in an adver-
tiſement prefix'd to his tranflation of the Third Sa-
tire of Perfius, where he obferves, that he had tranf-
lated that Satire, while he was at that School, for a
Thursday Night's Exercife; and, in 1649, wrote a
Poem upon the death of the Lord Haftings, in which
he diſplay'd a luxuriant, tho' incorrect imagination,
in a very harsh turn of Verfification. The year fol-
lowing he was elected a Scholar of Trinity College
in Cambridge. But we know little of him from that
time till the death of the Protector Oliver Cromwell,
apon which he wrote Heroic Stanza's, full of the
highet compliments to the memory of a man, of
whom he afterwards declar'd the greatest deteftation.
At the Restoration he wrote a Poem upon that fub-
ject under the title of Aftræa redux, and a Panygeric
to the King on his Coronation the fame year, and,
on New Year's Day 1662, preſented a Poem to Lord
Chancellor Hyde. In 1665, he wrote a Poem to the
Duchess of York on the victory gain'd by the Duke
against the Hollanders; and the year following he
publiſh'd his Annus Mirabilis, an Hiſtorical Poem. In
A 3
1668,
vi
The LIFE of
1668, upon the death of Sir William Davenant, he
was made Poet Laureat, and the fame year publiſh'd
his Effay of Dramatic Poefy. The year following his
Comedy, call'd The Wild Gallant, was acted at the
Theatre Royal; after which he wrote a great number
of other Dramatic Performances, which are generally
thought the moft faulty of his Works, and the great-
eft defects of them are owing chiefly, perhaps, to his
conforming himself to the popular tafte, fince he
owns himſelf, that he never wrote any thing to pleaſe
himſelf, but Anthony and Cleopatra. His faults, in
this refpect, were ridicul'd with great pleafantry, in
1671, in the Rehearſal, written by the Duke of
Buckingham, with the affiftance of Dr. Thomas Sprat
his Chaplain, afterwards Bishop of Rocheſter, Mr.
Martin Clifford, Mafter of the Charter-Houfe, and
Mr. Samuel Butler, Author of Hudibras. His Con-
queft of Granada was likewife criticis'd upon by Mr.
Elkanah Settle, who, tho' a moft contemptible Poet,
yet, for many years, was Mr. Dryden's Rival upon
the Stage. In the latter end of the year 1679, an
Effay on Satire being difpers'd in manufcript, con-
taining many grofs reflections upon the Duchefs of
Portſmouth, and the witty but profligate Earl of Ro-
chefter, and they fufpecting Mr. Dryden to be the
Author of it, he was feverely chaftis'd by three men,
hir'd for that purpoſe, at Will's Coffee-Houfe in
Covent-Garden. In 1680, he publiſh'd a tranſlation
of Ovid's Epiftles into English Verfe by feveral
hands, feveral of which Epiftles were done by him-
felf; and he wrote the Preface to it; and the year
following publifh'd his Abfalom and Achitophel,
written at the defire of King Charles II. in which
having expos'd the character of the Duke of Buck-
ingham, under the character of Zimri, it occafion'd
a ftory, that his Grace took his revenge of him by
procuring
JOHN DRYDEN, Efq
vй
procuring him to be beaten; but this was falfe; for
the Duke only wrote, or caufed to be written, Re-
flections on that Poem, of which Mr. Dryden was
follicited to write a fecond Part, but, declining it,
engag'd Mr. Tate to undertake it under his Directi
on, and wrote near two hundred lines in it. His next
Poem was entitled The Medal, a Satire againſt Se-
dition, written upon occafion of a medal ftruck on
account of the Earl of Shaftſbury's acquittal by the
Grand Jury. In 1682, he publish'd his Religio Laici;
and the year following the Tragedy of the Duke of
Guife, written by him and Mr. Nathaniel Lee, gave
great offence to the Whig Party, and was attack'd
by feveral Writers. In the beginning of the Reign
of King James II. he reconcil'd himſelf to the
Church of Rome; and, in 1686, wrote " A Defence
"of the Papers written by the late King of bleſſed
Memory, and found in his ftrong Box," in oppo-
fition to Dr. Edward Stillingfleet's "Anfwer to fome
.
*
Papers lately printed, concerning the Authority of
"the Catholic Church in Matters of Faith, and the
"Reformation of the Church of England." Upon
which Dr. Stillingfleet wrote a Vindication of his
Anfwer, in which he animadverted, in fevere terms,
upon Mr. Dryden's change of kis Religion, as
grounded upon his indifference to all Religion. The
year following Mr. Dryden publish'd his Hind and
Panther, in favour of the Church of Rome; which
occafion'd an admirable piece of Ridicule, written
by Mr. Charles Montagu, afterwards Earl of Hali-
fax, and Mr. Matthew Prior, and entitled "The
"Hind and Panther tranfvers'd to the Story of the
Country Mouſe and City Mouſe." About this
time he was fuppos'd to be engag'd in tranflating
Monf. Varillas's Hiftory of Herefies; but this Tranf-
lation never appear'd in print, tho', in the year 1688,
A 4
he,
viii
The LIFE of
he publish'd the Life of St. Francis Xavier, tranflated
from the French of Father Bouhours, the Jefuit.
Upon the Revolution he loft his place of Foet
Laureat and Hiftoriographer Royal, in which he was
fucceeded. by Thomas Shadwell, Efq; In 1693, he
publish'd a Tranflation of Juvenal by feveral hands,
the first, third, fixth, tenth, and fixteenth being.
done by himſelf; and a Tranſlation of Perfius, done
intirely by himself; and, to the whole, prefix'd a
long and beautiful difcourfe, by way of dedication,
to the Earl of Dorfet. His Tranflation of Du Fref-
noy's Art of Painting was publiſh'd in 1695, and
that of Virgil's Works in 1697. His laft Work was
his Fables, and perhaps the most perfect, in its kind,
of all his Performances. He died on the firſt of May
1700, at his houfe in Gerard Street, where he had
liv'd many years, and was interr'd in Weſtminſter
Abby, where a Monument was erected to him by
John Sheffield, Duke of Buckinghamshire. He mar-
ried the Lady Elizabeth Howard, Daughter to the
Earl of Berkshire, by whom he had three Sons,
Charles, John, and Henry, the two former of whom
were likewife distinguish'd by their poetical Talents.
His character is drawn to great advantage by Mr.
Congreve 1, who tells us, that he had perfonal qua-
lities to challenge both love and efteem from all,
who were truly acquainted with him. He was of a
nature exceedingly humane and compaffionate, eaſily
forgiving injuries, and capable of a prompt and fin-
cere reconciliation with them, who had offended
him. His friendship, where he profefs'd it, went
much beyond his profeffion; and he gave many
frong and generous inftances of it, tho' his heredi-
tary
income was little more than a bare competency.
In the Dedication to Mr. Dryden's Dramatick Works.
As
JOHN DRY DEN, Efq;
ix
As his reading had been very extenfive, fo was he
very happy in a memory tenacious of every thing,
that he had read. He was not more poffefs'd of
knowledge, than he was communicative of it: but
then his communication of it was by no means pe-
dantic, or impos'd upon the converfation, but juſt
fuch, and went fo far, as, by the natural turns of the
difcourfe, in which he was engag'd, it was necef-
farily promoted or requir'd. He was extremely ready
and gentle in his correction of the errors of any Wri-
ter, who thought fit to confult him; and full as ready
and patient to admit of the reprehenfion of others,
in reſpect of his own overfights or miſtakes. He was
of very eaſy, and indeed pleafing accefs; but fome-
thing flow, and, as it were, diffident in his advances
o others. He had fomething in his nature, that ab-
horr'd intruſion into any fociety whatever; and eafily
diſcountenanc'd in his approaches either to his fupe-
rior or his equals. His parts did not decline with
his years; but he was an improving Writer to the
laft, even to near feventy years; improving in fire
and imagination, as well as in judgment. He was
equally excellent in Verſe and in Profe; and his ex-
cellence in the latter he us❜d to aſcribe to his having
often read Archbishop Tillotfon's Works. His Ver-
fification and his Numbers he could learn of no
body; for he firſt poffefs'd thoſe talents in perfection
in our Tongue. And it may be faid in general of
his Writings, that what he did in any one ſpecies,
or diſtinct kind, would have been fufficient to have
acquir'd him a great name.
VERSES
[ x ]
VERSES
In PRAISE OF
Mr. D R
DRY
YDEN.
On Mr. DRYDEN'S RELIGIO LAICI.
B
By the Earl of ROSCOMMON.
E gone, you ſlaves, you idle vermin go,
Fly from the fcourges, and your mafter know;
Let free, impartial, men from Dryden learn
Myfterious fecrets, of a high concern,
And weighty truths, folid convincing fer fe,
Explain'd by unaffected eloquence.
What can you (Reverend Levi) here také ill ?
Men ftill had faults, and men will have them ftill;
He that hath none, and lives as angels do,
Must be an angel; but what's that to you?
While mighty Lewis finds the pope too great,
And dreads the yoke of his impofing feat,
Our fects a more tyrannick pow'r affume,
And would for fcorpions change the rods of Rome;
That church detain'd the legacy divine;
Fanaticks caft the pearls of heav'n to fwine:
What then have thinking honeft men to do,
But chufe a mean between th' ufurping two?
Nor can th' Ægyptian patriarch blame thy mufe,
Which for his firmnefs does his heat excufe;
Whatever
VERSES in Praife of Mr. DRYDEN.
xi
Whatever councils have approv'd his creed,
The preface fure was his own act and deed.
Our church will have that preface read you'll fay:
'Tis true but fo the will th' Apocrypha;
And fuch as can believe them, freely may.
But did that God (fo little underſtood)
Whofe darling attribute is being good,
From the dark womb of the rude chaos bring
Such various creatures and make man their King,
Yet leave his favourite man, his chiefeſt care,
More wretched than the vileft infects are ?
O! how much happier and more fafe are they?
If helpleſs millions must be doom'd a prey
To yelling furies, and for ever burn
In that fad place from whence is no return,
For unbelief in one they never knew,
Or for not doing what they could not do!
The very fiends know for what crime they fell,
And fo do all their followers that rebel:
If then a blind, well-meaning, Indian ftray,
Shall the great gulph be fhew'd him for the way? -
For better ends our kind Redeemer dy'd,
Or the faln angels room will be but ill fupply'd.
That Chrift, who at the great deciding day,
(For he declares what he refolves to fay)
Will dam the goats for their ill-natur'd faults,
And fave the sheep for actions, not for thoughts,
Hath too much mercy to fend men to hell,
For humble charity, and hoping well.
To what stupidity are zealots grown,
Whofe inhumanity, profufely fhown
In damning crouds of fouls, may damn their own.
I'll err at leaſt on the fecurer fide,
A convert free from malice and from pride,
}
}
TO
t xii ]
To my Friend Mr. JOHN DRYDEN, on his feveral
excellent Tranflations of the ancient Poets.
By G. GRANVILLE, Lord LANSDOWNE.
As
S flow'rs, tranfplanted from a fouthern ſky,
But hardly bear, or in the raifing die;
Miffing their native fun, at beit retain
But a faint odour, and furvive with pain:
Thus ancient wit, in modern numbers taught,
Wanting the warmth with which its author wrote,
Is a dead image, and a fenfelefs draught.
While we transfufe, the nimble fpirit flies,
Eſcapes unfeen, evaporates, and dies.
Who then to copy Roman wit defire,
Muft imitate with Roman force and fire,
In elegance of ftyle and phrafe the fame,
And in the ſparkling genius, and the flame.
Whence we conclude from thy tranflated fong,
So juft, ſo ſmooth, ſo ſoft, and yet ſo ſtrong,
Cœleftial poet! foul of harmony!
·
That every genius was reviv'd in thee.
Thy trumpet founds, the dead are rais'd to light,
Never to die, and take to heav'n their flight;
Deck'd in thy verfe, as clad with rays they fhine,
All glorified, immortal, and divine.
As Britain in rich foil abounding wide,
Furnish'd for ufe, for luxury, and pride,
Yet ſpreads her wanton fails on ev'ry ſhore
For foreign wealth, infatiate ftill of more;
To her own wool the filks of Afia joins,
And to her plenteous harveſts India's mines;
So Dryden, not contented with the fame
Of his own works, tho' an immortal name,
}
To
VERSES in Praife of Mr. DRYDEN.
To lands remote fends forth his learned mufe,
The nobleft feeds of foreign wit to chooſe;
Feafting our fenfe fo many various ways,
Say, is't thy bounty, or thy thirſt of praiſe?
That by comparing others, all might fee,
Who moſt excel, are yet excell'd by thee.
To Mr. DRYDEN, by JOSEPH ADDISON, Efq;
ITOW long, great poet, fhall thy facred lays
Hi
&
Provoke our wonder, and tranfcend our praiſe!
Can neither injuries of time, or age,
Damp thy poetick heat, and quench thy rage?
Not fo thy Ovid in his exile wrote;
Grief chill'd his breaft, and check'd his rifing thought;
Penfive and fad, his drooping mufe betrays
The Roman genius in its laft decays.
Prevailing warmth has ftill thy mind poffeft,
And fecond youth is kindled in thy breaft.
Thou mak'ft the beauties of the Romans known,
And England boafts of riches not her own :
Thy lines have heighten'd Virgil's majefty,
And Horace wonders at himfelf in thee.
Thou teacheft Perfius to inform our ifle
In fmoother numbers, and a clearer ftyle:
And Juvenal, inftructed in thy page,
Edges his fatire, and improves his rage.
Thy copy cats a fairer light on ail,
And ftill outfhines the bright original.
Now Ovid boasts th' advantage of thy fong,
And tells his story in the British tongue;
Thy charming verfe, and fair tranflations fhow
How thy own laurel firft began to grow;
How
{
!
Xiv
VERSES in Praife of Mr. DRYDEN.
How wild Lycaon, chang'd by angry Gods,
And frighted at himfelf, ran howling thro' the woods,
O may'st thou still the noble tale prolong,
Nor age, nor ficknefs interrupt thy fong:
Then may we wond'ring read, how human limbs
Have water'd kingdoms, and diffolv'd in ftreams,
Of thofe rich fruits that on the fertile mould
Turn'd yellow by degrees, and ripen'd into gold:
How fome in feathers, or a ragged hide,
Have liv'd a fecond life, and different matures try'd,
Then will thy Ovid, thus transform'd, reveal
A nobler change than he himſelf can tell.
Mag. Coll. Oxon.
June 2, 1693.
From Mr. ADDISON'S Account of the
ENGLISH POETS.
UT fee where artful Dryden next appears,
Bu
Grown old in rhyme, but charming ev'n in years.
Great Dryden next! whoſe tuneful muſe affords
The ſweeteſt numbers and the fittest words.
Whether in comick founds, or tragick airs
She forms her voice, fhe moves our fmiles and tears.
If fatire or heroick ftrains fhe writes,
Her hero pleaſes, and her fatire bites.
From her no harsh, unartful numbers fall,
She wears all dreffes, and fhe charms in all:
How might we fear our Engliſh poctry,
That long has flourish'd, fhould decay in thee;
Did not the mufes other hope appear,
Harmonious Congreve, and forbid our fear!
2
Con-
VERSES in Praife of Mr. DRYDEN.
xy
Congreve! whofe fancy's unexhauſted ſtore
Has given already much, and promis'd more.
Congreve fhall ftill preferve thy fame alive,
And Dryden's muſe ſhall in his friend furvive.
On ALEXANDER'S FEAST: Or, The
POWER of MUSICK.
An ODE.
From Mr. POPE'S ESSAY ON CRITICISM, 1. 376,
H
EAR how Timotheus' vary'd lays furprize,
And bid alternate paffions fall and rife!
While, at each change, the fon of Libyan Jove
Now burns with glory, and then melts with love;
Now his fierce eyes with ſparkling fury glow,
Now fighs fteal out, and tears begin to flow.
Perfians and Greeks like turns of nature found,
And the world's victor ſtood fubdu'd by found.
The pow'r of Mufick all our hearts allow,
And what Timotheus was is Dryden now.
CHARACTER of DRYDEN.
From an ODE OF GRA Y'S.
Ehold, where Dryden's lefs prefumptuous car,
BE
Wide o'er the fields of glory bear:
Two couriers of ethereal race,
[pace.
Hark,
With necks in thunder cloath'd, and long-refounding
xvi
VERSES in Praife of Mr. DRYDEN.
Hark, his hands the lyre explore!
Bright-ey'd Fancy hov'ring o'er,
Scatters from her pictur'd urn,
Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.
But, ah! 'tis heard no more-
Oh! lyre divine, what daring fpirit
Wakes thee now? though he inherit
Nor the pride, nor ample pinion,
That the Theban eagle bear,
Sailing with fupreme dominion
Through the azure deep of air:
Yet oft before his infant eyes would run
Such forms, as glitter in the mufe's ray
With orient hues, unborrow'd of the fun:
Yet ſhall he mount, and keep his diftant way
Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate
Beneath the good how far---but far above the great.
Upon
On the DEATH of, &c.
II.
Tho' our beft notes are treafon to his fame,
Join'd with the loud applaufe of public voice;
Since heaven, what praife we offer to his name,
Hath render'd too authentic by its choice.
III.
Tho' in his praiſe no arts can liberal be,
Since they, whofe mufes have the higheft flown,
Add not to his immortal memory,
But do an act of friendship to their own:
IV.
Yet 'tis our duty, and our intereſt too,
Such monuments as we can build to raiſe;
Left all the world prevent what we fhould do,
And claim a title in him by their praiſe.
V.
How shall I then begin, or where conclude,
To draw a fame fo truly circular?
For in a round what order can be fhew'd,
Where all the parts fo equal perfect are?
VI.
His grandeur he deriv'd from heav'n alone;
For he was great ere fortune made him ſo:
And wars, like mifts that riſe againſt the fun,
Made him but greater feem, not greater grow.
VII.
No borrow'd bays his temples did adorn,
But to our crown he did fresh jewels bring;
Nor was his virtue poifon'd foon as born,
With the too early thoughts of being king.
VIII.
Fortune, that eafy miftrefs to the young,
But to her ancient fervants coy and hard,
Him at that age her favourites rank'd among,
When the her beft-lov'd Pompey did difcard.
B 4
IX. He
On the DEATH of
IX.
He private mark'd the fault of others fway.
And fet as fea-marks for himſelf to fhun:
Not like raſh monarchs, who their youth betray
By acts their age too late would with undone.
X.
And
yet
dominion was not his defign;
We owe that bleffing, not to him, but heav'n,
Which to fair acts unfought rewards did join;
Rewards, that lefs to him than us were given.
XI.
Our former chiefs, like fticklers of the war,
First fought t' inflame the parties, then to poife:
The quarrel lov'd, but did the cauſe abhor;
And did not ſtrike to hurt, but make a noiſe.
XII,
War, our confumption, was their gainful trade:
We inward bled, whilft they prolong'd our pain ;
He fought to end our fighting, and effay'd
To ftaunch the blood by breathing of the vein.
XIII.
Swift and refiftlefs through the land he paft,
Like that bold 7 Greek who did the Eaft fubdue,
And made to battles fuch heroic hafte,
As if on wings of victory he flew,
XIV.
He fought fecure of fortune as of fame :
Still by new maps, the iſland might be fhewn,
Of conquefts, which he ftrew'd where-e'er he came,
Thick as the galaxy with ftars is fown.
XV.
His palms, tho' under weights they did not ftand,
Still thriv'd; no winter could his laurels fade:
Heav'n in his portrait ſhew'd a workman's hand,
And drew it perfect, yet without a ſhade.
3
7 Alexander the great,
XVI. Peace
OLIVER CROMWELL.
XVI.
Peace was the prize of all his toil and care,
Which war had baniſh'd, and did now reftore:
Bologna's 8 walls thus mounted in the air,
To feat themſelves more furely than before.
XVII.
Her fafety refcu'd Ireland to him owes;
And treacherous Scotland to no intereft true,
Yet bleft that fate which did his arms difpofe
Her land to civilize, as to fubdue.
XVIII.
Nor was he like thoſe ſtars which only fhine,
When to pale mariners they ftorms portend:
He had his calmer influence, and his mien
Did love and majefty together blend.
XIX.
'Tis true, his count'nance did imprint an awe;
And naturally all fouls to his did bow,
As wands of divination downward draw,
And point to beds where fov'reign gold doth grow.
XX.
When paft all off'rings to Feretrian Jove,
He Mars depos'd, and arms to gowns made yield;
Successful councils did him foon approve
As fit for cloſe intrigues, as open field.
XXI.
To fuppliant Holland he vouchfaf'd a peace,
Our once bold rival of the Britiſh main,
Now tamely glad her unjuft claim to ceaſe,
And buy our friendship with her idol, gain.
8 It is faid that at the fiege of Bologna in 1512, a mine blew up
that part of the wall of the church of Sancta Maria del Baracano, on
which ſtood a miraculous image of the bleffed virgin. Tho' it was
carried fo high, that both armies could fee one another thro' the
breach, yet it fell again exactly into its place, fo that it was impoffi-
ble to fee where it had been feparated,
XXII. Fame
10
On the DEATH of
XXII.
Fame of th' afferted fea through Europe blown,
Made France and Spain ambitious of his love;
Each knew that fide muft conquer he would own;
And for him fiercely, as for empire, ftrove.
XXIII.
No fooner was the 9 Frenchman's caufe embrac'd,
Than the light Monfieur the grave Don outweigh'd:
His fortune turn'd the fcale where'er 'twas caft;
Tho' Indian mines were in the other laid.
XXIV.
When abfent, yet we conquer'd in his right:
For tho' fome meaner artift's kill were shown.
In mingling colours, or in placing light;
Yet ftill the fair defignment was his own.
XXV.
For from all tempers he could fervice draw;
The worth of each, with its alloy, he knew,
And, as the confident of nature, faw
How the complexions did divide and brew.
XXVI.
Or he their fingle virtues did furvey,
By intuition in his own large breaſt,
Where all the rich ideas of them lay,
That were the rule and meaſure to the reft.
XXVII.
When fuch heroic virtue heaven fets out,
The ftars, like commons, fullenly obey;
Becauſe it drains them when it comes about,
And therefore is a tax they feldom pay.
9 The treaty of alliance which Cromwell entered into with France
against the Spaniards, proved of the greatest fervice to that crown,
fince by it Cromwell furnished thereto fix thouſand men, who be-
haved always very gallantly, and turned the balance in its favour.
XXVIII. From
OLIVER CROMWELL.
17-
XXVIII.
From this high fpring our foreign conquefts flow,
Which yet more glorious triumphs do portend;
Since their commencement to his arms they owe,
If fprings as high as fountains may afcend.
XXIX.
He made us 1 free-men of the continent,
Whom nature did like captives treat before;
To nobler preys the Engliſh lion fent,
And taught him firft in Belgian walks to roar.
XXX.
That old unqueftion'd pirate of the land,
Proud Rome with dread the fate of Dunkirk heard;
And trembling wifh'd behind more Alps to ſtand,
Altho' an 2 Alexander were her guard.
XXXI.
By his command we boldly crofs'd the line,
And bravely fought where fouthern ſtars arife;
We trac'd the far-fetch'd gold unto the mine,
And that which brib'd our fathers made our prize.
XXXII.
Such was our prince; yet own'd a foul above
The highest acts it could produce to ſhow:
Thus poor mechanic arts in public move,
Whilst the deep fecrets beyond practice go.
XXXIII.
Nor dy'd he when his ebbing fame went lefs,
But when fresh laurels courted him to live:
He feem'd but to prevent fome new ſucceſs,
As if above what triumphs earth could give.
I
1 We may be faid to have been made freemen of the continent by
the taking of Dunkirk, which was wrefted from the Spaniards by the
united forces of France and England, and delivered up to the latter
in the beginning of 1658.
2 Alexander VII, was at this time pope.
XXXIV. His
On the DEATH of, &c.
XXXIV.
His latest victories ftill thickeft came,
As, near the center, motion doth increafe;
'Till he, prefs'd down by his own weighty name,
Did, like the 3 veſtal, under ſpoils deceaſe.
XXXV.
But first the ocean as a tribute fent
The giant prince of all her watry herd;
And th' ifle, when her protecting genius went,
Upon his obfequies loud fighs conferr'd.
XXXVI.
No civil broils have fince his death aroſe,
But faction now by habit does obey ;
And wars have that reſpect for his repoſe,
As winds for 4 halcyons, when they breed at fea.
XXXVII.
His afhes in a peaceful urn fhall reſt,
His name a great example ſtands, to ſhow
How ftrangely high endeavours may be bleft,
Where piety and valour jointly go.
3 The Sabines being at war with the Romans, found means to
furprize the citadel by corrupting Tarpeia the commandant's daughter,
to open to them a poftern-gate; and when they were entered, they
threw their bucklers upon and fmothered her. It is faid they had
confented, at her own requeft, to give her what they had upon their
arms, their left arms being alfo adorned with magnificent bracelets;
and thus they pretended to perform their promife.
4 The halcyon is faid to pitch its neft upon the furface of the fea,
and there to hatch its young, when a continued calm prevails. Plu-
tarch, who afferts this story, as fact, tells us, that he has feen ſeveral
of this bird's nefts, formed like boats, and curiously constructed of
fish-bones.
ASTRE A
}
[ 13 ]
{
ASTRE A REDUX'.
A POEM on the happy RESTORATION
and RETURN of His Sacred Majefty
CHARLES the Second, 1660.
Jam redit & virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna. VIRG.
The laſt great age foretold by facred rhimes
Renews its finish'd courfe; Saturnian times
Roll round again.
N°
OW with a general peace the world was bleft,
While ours, a world divided from the reft,
A dreadful quiet felt, and worfer far
Than arms, a fullen interval of war:
Thus when black clouds draw down the lab'ring ſkies,
Ere yet abroad the winged thunder flies,
An horrid ftillneſs firft invades the ear,
And in that filence we the tempeſt fear.
Th' ambitious Swede 2, like reftlefs billows toft,
On this hand gaining what on that he loft,
Though in his life he blood and ruin breath'd,
To his now guidelefs kingdom peace bequeath'd.
And heaven, that feem'd regardleſs of our fate,
For France and Spain did miracles create;
1 Aftrea Redux, or the Return of Juftice, may be very properly.
applied to the era of the king's refloration, fince now the nation
was freed from the factions that had fo long diftracted, and threat-
ened her with anarchy and deftruction; while law, order, and fub-
ordination began to flow once again quietly in their antient and pro-
per channels.
2 Charles X. named alfo Guftarus, nephew to the great Guftavus
Adelphus.
Such
14
ASTRE A REDUX.
Such mortal quarrels to compofe in peace
As nature bred, and intereft did increaſe.
We figh'd to hear the fair 3 Iberian bride
Muft grow a lily to the lily's fide,
While our crois ftars deny'd us Charles' bed,
Whom our first flames and virgin love did wed.
For his long abſence church and ſtate did groan;
Madneſs the pulpit, faction ſeiz'd the throne:
Experienc'd age in deep defpair was loft,
To fee the rebel thrive, the loyal croft :
Youth that with joys had unacquainted been,
Envy'd gray hairs that once good days had ſeen :
We thought our fires, not with their own content,
Had ere we came to age our portion spent.
Nor could our nobles hope their bold attempt
Who ruin'd crowns would coronets exempt:
For when by their defigning leaders taught
To ftrike at pow'r which for themfelves they fought,
The vulgar, gull'd into rebellion, arm'd;
Their blood to action by the prize was warm'd.
The facred purple then and fcarlet gown,
Like fanguine dye, to elephants was fhewn.
Thus when the bold 4 Typhoeus fcal'd the fky,
And forc'd great Jove from his own heav'n to fly,
3 We figh'd to hear the fair Iberian bride,
Muft grow a lily to the lily's fide, &c.
In the year 1659, Cromwell being dead, a peace was concluded
between Spain and France, in which the marriage with the Infanta
of Spain, was agreed upon; and though Charles II. was there in
perfon, little or no regard was paid to his intereft. The poet in this,
and part of the following page laments, that almoſt every ſtate but
that of England fhould be restored to cafe. Sweden, fays he, ob-
tained a peace by the death of her ambitious monarch. The feuds
between France and Spain were miraculously terminated, and their
friendship cemented by a marriage. But for our parts heaven ftill
continued to deny us the refto ation of our king, for which all ranks
of people groaned; and we feemed as it were abandoned by providence.
4 See the giants war in the first book of Ovid's Metamorphofes.
(What
ASTRE A REDU X.
15
(What king, what crown from trcafon's reach is free,
If Jove and Heav'n can violated be?)
The leffer gods, that fhar'd his profperous ftate.
All fuffer'd in the exil'd Thunderer's fate.
The rabble now fuch freedom did enjoy,
As winds at fea, that ufe it to deftroy:
Blind as the Cyclop, and as wild as he,
They own'd a lawleſs favage liberty,
Like that our painted ancestors fo priz'd,
Ere empire's arts their breafts had civiliz’d.
How great were then our Charles' woes, who thus
Was forc'd to fuffer for himfelt and us!
He, tofs'd by fate, and hurry'd up and down,
Heir to his father's forrows, with his crown,
Could tafte no fweets of youth's defired age;
But found his life too true a pilgrimage.
Unconquer'd yet in that forlorn cftate,
His manly courage overcame his fate.
His wounds he took, like Romans on his breaft,
Which by his virtue were with laurels dreft.
As fouls reach heav'n while yet in bodies pent,
So did he live above his banishment.
That fun, which we beheld with cozen'd eyes
Within the water, mov'd along the ſkies.
How eafy 'tis, when deſtiny proves kind,
With full-fpread fails to run before the wind!
But thofe that 'gainft ftiff gales laveering go,
Must be at once refolv'd and ſkilful too.
He would not, like foft Otho, hope prevent,
But ftay'd and ſuffer'd fortune to repent.
Thefe virtues Galba in a ftranger fought,
And Piſo to adopted empire brought.
How fhall I then my doubtful thoughts exprefs,
That muft his fufferings both regret and blefs?
For when his early valour Heav'n had croft;
And all at Worc'fter but the honour loft;
Forc'd
16
ASTRE A REDU X.
Forc'd into exile from his rightful throne,
He made all countries where he came his own 3
And viewing monarchs' fecret arts of ſway,
A royal factor for his kingdoms lay.
Thus baniſh'd David ſpent abroad his time,
When to be God's anointed was his crime;
And when reftor'd, made his proud neighbours rue
Thoſe choice remarks he from his travels drew.
Nor is he only by afflictions fhown
To conquer others realms, but rule his own :
Recovering hardly what he loft before,
His right endears it much; his purchaſe more.
Inur'd to fuffer ere he came to reign,
No rafh procedure will his actions ftain:
To buſineſs ripen'd by digeftive thought,
His future rule is into method brought:
As they, who firft proportion underſtand,
With eaſy practice reach a maſter's hand.
Well might the ancient poets then confer
On night the honoured name of Counſeller,
Since ftruck with rays of profperous fortune blind,
We light alone in dark afflictions find.
In fuch adverfities to fcepters train'd,
The name of Great his famous 5 grandfire gain'd:
Who yet a king alone in name and right,
With hunger, cold, and angry Jove did fight;
Shock'd by a cov'nanting league's vaft pow'rs,
As holy and as catholic as ours:
'Till fortune's fruitless fpite had made it known,
Her blows not fhook but riveted his throne.
Some lazy ages, loft in fleep and eaſe,
No action leave' to buſy chronicles:
Such, whofe fupine felicity but makes
In ftory chasms, in epocha miſtakes;
5 Charles II, was grandfon by the mother's fide to Henry the IV th
of France.
Q'et
ASTRE A REDUX.
17
O'er whom Time gently ſhakes his wings of down,
'Till with his filent fickle they are mown.
Such is not Charles' too too active age,
Which, govern'd by the wild diftemper'd rage
Of fome black ftar infecting all the flies,
Made him at his own coft like Adam wife.
Tremble ye nations, which fecure before,
Laugh'd at thofe arms that 'gainſt ourſelves we bore;
Rouz'd by the lath of his own ſtubborn tail,
Our lion now will foreign foes affail.
With 6 alga who the facred altar firews?
To all the fea gods Charles an off'ring owes :
A bull to thee, Portunus, fhall be flain,
A lamb to you, ye tempefts of the main :
For those loud ftorms that did againſt him roar,
Have caft his fhipwreck'd veffel on the fhore.
Yet as wife artiſts mix their colours fo,
That by degrees they from each other go;
Black fteals unheeded from the neighb'ring white,
Without offending the well-cozen'd fight:
So on us ftole our bleffed change; while we
Th' effect did feel, but fcarce the manner fee.
Frofts that conftrain the ground, and birth deny
To flow'rs that in its womb expecting lie,
Do feldom their ufurping pow'r withdraw,
But raging floods purfac their hafty thaw.
Our thaw was mild, the cold not chas'd away,
But loft in kindly heat of lengthned day.
Heaven would no bargain for its bleffings drive,
But what we could not pay for, freely give.
The Prince of peace would like himſelf confer
A gift unhop'd, without the price of war:
6 Thefe lines refer to the ceremonics ufed by fuch heathens as ef
caped from shipwreck, to which the king's variety of fortune is com-
pared. Aga marina, or fea weed, was firewed about the altar, and à
lamb facrificed to the winds.
VOL. I.
C
Yet,
13
ASTRE A REDU X.
Yet, as he knew his bleffing's worth, took care,
That we fhould know it by repeated pray'r;
Which ftorm'd the ſkies, and raviſh'd Charles from thence,
As heav'n itfelf is took by violence.
Booth's 7 forward valour only ferv'd to fhow,
He durft that duty pay we all did owe:
Th' attempt was fair; but heav'n's prefixed hour
Not come: fo like the watchful traveller
That by the moon's miſtaken light did riſe,
Lay down again, and clos'd his weary eyes.
'Twas Monk, whom Providence defign'd to loofe
Thoſe real bonds falfe freedom did impoſe.
The bleffed faints, that watch'd this turning fcene,
Did from their ſtars with joyful wonder lean,
To fee fmall clues draw vafteft weights along,
Not in their bulk but in their order strong.
Thus pencils can by one flight touch reſtore
Smiles to that changed face that wept before.
With eafe fuch fond chimaeras we purſue,
As fancy frames for fancy to fubdue:
But when ourſelves to action we betake,
It fhuns the mint like gold that chemifts make,
How hard was then his task! at once to be
What in the body natural we fee?
Man's architect diftin&tly did ordain
The charge of mufcles, nerves, and of the brain,
Through viewlefs conduits fpirits to difpenfe;
The fprings of motion from the feat of fenfe.
"Twas not the hafty product of a day,
But the well-ripen'd fruit of wife delay.
He, like a patient angler, ere he ftrook,
Would let him play a while upon the hook.
7
Sir George Booth in 1659 affembled a large body of men for the
King's fervice in Chefhire, and encountering with general Lambert
near Norwich, was entirely routed, and most of the principal per-
fons made prifoners.
4
Our
ASTRA REDU X.
19
Our healthful food the ftomach labours thus,
At first embracing what it ftraight doth crush.
Wife 8 leaches will not vain receipts obtrude,
While growing pains pronounce the humours crude:
Deaf to complaints they wait upon the ill,
'Till fome fafe crifis authorize their fkill.
Nor could his acts too cloſe a vizard wear,
To 'fcape their eyes whom guilt had taught to fear,
And guard with caution that polluted neft,
Whence legion twice before was difpoffeft:
One facred houfe; which when they enter'd in,
They thought the place could fan&tify a fin;
Like thoſe that vainly hop'd kind heav'n would wink,
While to excefs on martyrs tombs they drink.
And as devouter Turks firft warn their fouls
To part, before they taſte forbidden bowls:
So theſe, when their black crimes they went about,
First timely charm'd their ufelefs confcience out.'
Religion's name againſt itſelf was made ;
The fhadow ferv'd the fubftance to invade :
Like zealous miffions, they did care pretend
Of fouls in fhew, but made their gold their end.
Th' incenfed pow'rs beheld with ſcorn from high
An heaven fo far diftant from the ſky,
Which durſt, with horfes hoofs that beat the ground,
And martial brafs, bely the thunder's found.
'Twas hence at length juft vengeance thought it fit
To ſpeed their ruin by their impious wit.
Thus Sforza 9, curs'd with a too fertile brain,
Loft by his wiles the pow'r his wit did gain.
Hence-
8 Leaches, a word ufed by Spenfer to fignify phyſicians.
9 Lewis Sforza, a fubtle politician, and one of the moſt intriguing
men in the world, was left guardian to his nephew John Gateas
Sforza, heir of Milan, for whom he contracted a marriage with
Ifabella of Arragon, but falling in love with the bride the moment
he faw her endeavoured to procure her for himflf. It is faid, that
C 2
he
20
ASTRE A REDUX.
Henceforth their I fougue muit ſpend at leffer rate,
Than in its flames to wrap a nation's fate.
Suffer'd to live, they are like Helots fet,
A virtuous ſhame within us to beget.
For by example moit we finn'd before,
And glass-like clearness mix'd with frailty bore.
But fince reform'd by what we did amifs,
We by our fuff'rings learn to prize our bliſs:
Like early lovers, whofe unpractis'd hearts
Were long the may-game of malicious arts,
When once they find their Jealoufies were vain,
With double heat renew their fires again.
"Twas this produc'd the joy that hurry'd o'er
Such fwarms of Engliſh to the neighb'ring ſhore,
To fetch that prize, by which Batavia made
So rich amends for our impoverish'd trade.
Oh had you feen from 2 Schevelin's barren ſhore,
(Crowded with troops, and barren now no more,)
Afflicted Holland to his farewel bring
True forrow, Holland to regret a king!
While waiting him his royal fleet did ride,
And willing winds to their lower'd fails deny'd.
The wav'ring ftreamers, flags, and ftandards out,
The merry feamen's rude but chearful ſhout;
And laft the cannons voice that fhook the fkies,
And, as it fares in fudden ecftafies,
At once bereft us both of ears and eyes.
}
he contrived a magical girdle for his nephew, to prevent him from
confummating. His endeavours were ineffectual. John had two
children, but died by the treachery of his uncle, who poifoned him,
and cauſed himſelf to be proclaimed Duke of Milan. In 1499 he was
driven from his dukedom, which he had enjoyed only feven years,
by Lewis the XIIth of France, and was carried prifoner to France,
where he died in confinement, A. D. 1508.
See Guiccardini, &c. &c.
1 Fougue, a French word uſed for the fire and ſpirit of a horſe.
2 A village about a mile from the Hague, at which Charles the
Second embarked for England.
The
ASTRE A REDU X.
ZI
'
N{
The Nafeby 3, now no longer England's fhame,
But better to be loft in Charles' name,
(Like fome unequal bride in nobler ſheets)
Receives her lord: the joyful London meets
The princely York, himſelf alone a freight;
The Swift-fure groans beneath great 4 Glofter's weight:
Secure as when the halcyon breeds, with theſe,
He that was born to drown might cross the feas.
Heav'n could not own a Providence, and take
The wealth three nations ventured at a ftake.
The fame indulgence Charles his voyage blefs'd,
Which in his right had miracles coniefs'd.
The winds that never moderation knew,
Afraid to blow too much, too faintly blew ;
Or out of breath with joy, could not enlarge
Their ftraighten'd lungs, or confcious of their charge.
The British Amphytrite, fmooth and clear,
In richer azure never did appear;
Proud her returning prince to entertain
With the fubmitted fafces of the main.
A
ND welcome now, great monarch, to your own;
Behold the approaching clifts of Albion :
It is no longer motion cheats your view,
As you meet it, the land approacheth you.
The land returns, and, in the white it wears,
The marks of penitence and forrow bears.
But you, whofe goodnefs your defcent doth fhew,
Your heav'nly parentage and earthly too;
By that fame mildnefs, which your father's crown
Before did raviſh, fhall fecure your own.
Not tied to rules of policy, you find
Revenge leſs ſweet than a forgiving mind.
I The ship in which Charles the Second returned from exile.
2 Henry of Oatlands, duke of Gloucefter, third fon of Charles
the fift, landed at Dover with his brother in 1660, and died of the
Imall pox foon afterwards.
C 3
Thus
22
ASTRE A REDUX.
Thus, when th' almighty would to Mofes give
A fight of all he could behold and live ;
A voice before his entry did proclaim
Long-fuffering, goodneſs, mercy, in his name.
Your pow'r to juftice doth fubmit your cauſe,
Your goodness only is above the laws;
Whofe rigid letter, while pronounc'd by you,
Is fofter made. So winds that tempefts brew,
When through Arabian groves they take their flight,
Made wanton with rich odours, lofe their fpite.
And as thofe lees, that trouble it, refine
The agitated foul of generous wine:
So tears of joy, for your returning, fpilt;
Work out, and expiate our former guilt.
Methinks I fee thofe crouds on Dover's ftrand,
Who, in their hale to welcome you to land,
Chok'd up the beach with their ftill growing ftore,
And made a wilder torrent on the fhore:
While, fpurr'd with eager thoughts of paft delight,
Thofe, who had feen you, court a fecond fight;
Preventing fill your fteps, and making hafte
To meet you often wherefoe'er you paſt.
How fhall I fpeak of that triumphant day,
When you rencw'd th' expiring pomp of May!
(A month that owns an intereft in your name:
You and the flow'rs are its peculiar claim.)
That ſtar that at your birth fhone out fo bright,
It ftain'd the duller fun's meridian light,
Did once again its potent fires renew,
Guiding our eyes to find and worship you.
And now Time's whiter feries is begun,
Which in foft centuries fhall fmoothly run:
Thofe clouds, that overcaft your morn, fhall fly,
Difpell'd to fartheft corners of the fky.
Our nation with united intereft bleft,
Not now content to poize, fhall fway the reft.
Abroad
ASTRE A REDU X.
23
Abroad your empire fhall no limits know,
But, like the fea, in boundlefs circles flow.
Your much-lov'd fleet fhall, with a wide command,
Befiege the petty monarchs of the land:
And as old 3 Time his offspring ſwallow'd down,
Our ocean in its depths all feas fhall drown.
Their wealthy trade from pirate's rapine free,
Our merchants ſhall no more adventurers be:
Nor in the fartheft eaft thofe dangers fear,
Which humble Holland muft diffemble here,
Spain to your gift alone her Indies owes ;
For what the pow'rful takes not he beſtows:
And France, that did an exile's prefence fear,
May juftly apprehend you fill too near.
At home the hateful names of parties ceafe,
And factious fouls are wearied into peace.
The difcontented now are only they,
Whofe crimes before did your juft caufe betray:
Of thoſe your edicts fome reclaim from fin,
But most your life and bleft example win.
Oh happy prince, whom heav'n hath taught the way,
By paying vows to have more vows to pay!
Oh happy age! Oh times like thofe alone,
By fate referv'd for great Auguftus' throne!
When the joint growth of arms and arts foreſhew
The world a monarch, and that monarch you.
3 Days, months and years may be justly called the children of
Time, which he daily produces and as constantly devours.
1
C +
To
[ 24 ]
!
To His SACRED MAJESTY.
A PANEGYRIC on his CORONATION,
IN wile whe
N that wild deluge where the world was drown'd,
When life and fin one common tomb had found,
The firft fmall profpect of a rifing hill
With various notes of joy the ark did fill:
Yet when that flood in its own depths was drown'd,
It left behind it falfe and flipp'ry ground;
And the more folemn pomp was ftill deferr'd,
'Till new-born nature in fresh looks appear'd.
Thus, royal Sir, to fee you landed here,
Was cauſe enough of triumph for a year:
Nor would your care thofe glorious joys repeat,
'Till they at once might be fecure and great:
'Till your kind beams, by their continu'd ftay,
Had warm'd the ground, and call'd the damps away,
Such vapours, while your pow'rful influence dries,
Then fooneft vanish when they higheſt rife.
Had greater hafte thefe facred rites prepar'd,
Some guilty months had in your triumphs fhar'd:
But this untainted year is all your own;
Your glories may without our crimes be ſhown.
We had not yet exhaufted all our ftore,
When you refresh'd our joys by adding more;
As heaven, of old, difpens'd celeftial dew,
You gave us manna, and ſtill give us new.
Now our fad ruins are remov'd from fight,
The ſeaſon too comes fraught with new delight:
Time feems not now beneath his years to ftoop,
Nor do his wings with fickly feathers droop:
Soft weſtern winds waft o'er the gaudy fpring,
And open'd fcenes of flowers and blooms bring,
Το
On the CORONATION of, &c.
25
}
To grace this happy day, while you appear,
Not king of us alone, but of the year.
All eyes you draw, and with the eyes the heart:
Of your own pomp your felf the greateſt part;
Loud houts the nation's happineſs proclaim,
And heav'n this day is feafted with your name,
Your cavalcade the fair fpectators view,
From their high ftandings, yet look up to you.
From your brave train each fingles out a prey,
And longs to date a conqueft from your day.
Now charg'd wih blefings while you feek repofe,
Officious flumbers hafte your eyes to cloſe;
And glorious dreams ftand ready to reftore
The pleaſing fhapes of all you faw before.
Next to the facred temple you are led,
Where waits a crown for your more facred head:
How juftly from the church that crown is due,
Preferv'd from ruin, and reftor'd by you!
The grateful choir their harmony employ,
Not to make greater, but more folemn joy.
Wrapt ſoft and warm your name is ſent on high,
As flames do on the wings of incenſe fly:
Mufic herself is loft, in vain fhe brings
Her choiceft notes to praiſe the beſt of kings:
Her melting ftrains in you a tomb have found,
And lie like bees in their own fweetnefs drown'd,
He that brought peace, all diſcord could atone,
His name is mufic of itſelf alone.
Now while the facred oil anoints your head,
And fragrant fcents, begun from you, are ſpread
Through the large dome; the people's joyful found,
Sent back, is ftill preferv'd in hallow'd ground;
Which in one bleffing mix'd defcends on you;
As heightened fpirits fall in richer dew.
Not that our wishes do increaſe your ſtore,
Full of your felf you can admit no more;
We
}
26
On the CORONATION of
We add not to your glory, but employ
Our time, like angels, in expreffing joy.
Nor is it duty, or our hopes alone,
Create that joy, but full fruition:
We know thofe bleffings, which we muft poffefs,
And judge of future by paft happineſs.
No promife can oblige a prince fo much
Still to be good, as long to have been fuch.
A noble emulation heats your breaft,
And your own fame now robs you of your reſt.
Good actions fill must be maintain'd with good,
As bodies nourish'd with reſembling food.
You have already quench'd fedition's brand;
And zeal, which burnt it, only warms the land.
The jealous fects, that dare not truft their caufe
So far from their own will as to the laws,
You for their umpire and their fynod take,
And their appeal alone to Cæfar make.
Kind heav'n fo rare a temper did provide,
That guilt repenting might in it confide.
Among our crimes oblivion may be fet:
But 'tis our king's perfection to forget.
Virtues unknown to theſe rough northern climes
From milder heav'ns you bring without their crimes.
Your calmnefs does no after-forms provide,
Nor feeming patience mortal anger hide.
When empire firft from families did fpring,
Then every father govern'd as a king:
But you, that are a fovereign prince, allay
Imperial power with your paternal fway.
From thofe great cares when eafe your foul unbends,
Your pleaſures are defign'd to noble ends?
Born to command the miftrefs of the ſeas,
Your thoughts themfelves in that blue empire pleaſe.
Hither in fummer evenings you repair
To tafte the fraicheur of the purer air:
Undaunted
KING CHARLES II.
27
Undaunted here you ride, when winter raves,
With Cæfar's heart that rofe above the waves.
More I could fing, but fear my numbers ftays;
No loyal fubject dares that courage praife.
In ftately frigates moft delight you find,
Where well-drawn battles fire your martial mind.
What to your cares we owe, is learnt from hence,
When even your pleasures ferve for our defence.
Beyond your court flows in th' admitted tide,
Where in new depth, the wondering fishes glide:
Here in a royal bed the waters ſleep;
When tir'd at fea, within this bay they creep.
Here the mistrustful fowl no harm fufpects,
So fafe are all things which our king protects.
From your lov'd Thames a bleffing yet is due,
Second alone to that it brought in you;
A queen, near whofe chafte womb, ordain'd by fate,
The fouls of kings unborn for bodies wait.
It was your love before made difcord ceafe:
Your love is deftin'd to your country's peace.
Both Indies, rivals in your bed, provide
With gold or jewels to adorn your bride.
This to a mighty king prefents rich ore,
While that with incenfe does a god implore.
Two kingdoms wait your doom, and, as you chooſe,
This must receive a crown, or that muft lofe.
Thus from your royal oak, like Jove's of old,
Are anſwers fought, and deſtinies foretold:
Propitious oracles are begg'd with vows,
And crowns that grow upon the facred boughs.
Your ſubjects, while you weigh the nation's fate,
Sufpend to both their doubtful love or hate:
Chufe only, Sir, that fo they may poffefs
With their own peace their children's happiness.
ΤΟ
TO THE
LORD-CHANCELLOR HYDE.
Prefented on NEW-YEAR'S-DAY, 1662.
My LORD,
W HILE flattering crouds officiouſly appear
To give themselves, not you, an happy year;
And by the greatnefs of their preſents prove
How much they hope, but not how well they love;
The Mules, who your early courtship boaſt,
Though now your flames are with their beauty loft,
Yet watch their time, that, if you have forgot
They were your miftreffes, the world may not:
Decay'd
To the LORD-CHANCELLOR HYDE.
29
Decay'd by time and wars, they only prove
Their former beauty by your former love;
And now prefent, as ancient ladies do,
That courted long, at length are forc'd to woo.
For ftill they look on you with fuch kind eyes,
As thofe that fee the church's fovereign rife;
From their own order chofe, in whofe high ftate,
They think themſelves the fecond choice of fate.
When our great monarch into exile went,
Wit and religion fuffer'd banishment.
Thus once, when Troy was wrap'd in fire and ſmoke,
The helpless gods their burning fhrines forfook;
They with the vanquiſh'd prince and party go,
And leave their temples empty to the foe.
At length the Mufes ftand, reftor'd again
To that great charge which nature did ordain;
And their lov'd Druids feem reviv'd by fate,
While you difpenfe the laws, and guide the ftate.
The nation's foul, our monarch, does difpenfe,
Through you, to us his vital influence;
You are the channel, where thofe fpirits flow,
And work them higher, as to us they go.
In open profpect nothing bounds our eye,
Until the earth feems join'd unto the fky:
So in this hemiſphere our utmoſt view
Is only bounded by our king and you :
Our fight is limited where you are join'd,
And beyond that no farther heav'n can find.
So well your virtues do with his agree,
That, though your orbs of diff'rent greatnefs be,
Yet both are for each other's ufe difpos'd,
His to inclofe, and yours to be inclos'd.
Nor could another in your room have been,
Except an emptinefs had come between.
Well may he then to you his cares impart,
And fhare his burden where he fhares his heart.
In
30
To the LORD-CHANCELLOR HYDE,
In you his fleep ftill wakes; his pleafures find
Their fhare of bus'nefs in your labouring mind.
So when the weary fun his place refigns,
He leaves his light, and by reflection fhines.
Juſtice, that fits and frowns where public laws
Exclude foft mercy from a private cauſe,
In your tribunal moſt herſelf does pleaſe;
There only fmiles becauſe the lives at eafe;
And, like young David, finds her ftrength the more,
When difincumber'd from thofe arms fhe wore.
Heaven would our royal mafter fhould exceed
Moft in that virtue, which we moft did need;
And his mild father (who too late did find
All mercy vain but what with pow'r was join'd)
His fatal goodnefs left to fitter times,
Not to increafe, but to abfolve, our crimes:
But when the heir of this vaft treafure knew
How large a legacy was left to you,
(Too great for any ſubject to retain)
He wifely ty'd it to the crown again:
Yet, paffing through your hands, it gathers more,
As ftreams, thro' mines, bear tincture of their ore.
While emperic politicians ufe deceit,
Hide what they give, and cure but by a cheat;
You boldly fhew that fkill which they pretend,
And work by means as noble as your end:
Which fhould you veil, we might unwind the clue,
As men do nature, till we came to you.
And as the Indies were not found, before
Thoſe rich perfumes, which, from the happy fhore,
The winds upon their balmy wings convey'd,
Whofe guilty ſweetneſs firft their world betray'd;
So by your counfels we are brought to view
A rich and undiſcover'd world in you.
By you our monarch does that fame affure,
Which kings must have or cannot live fecure:
For
To the LORD-CHANCELLOR HYDE.
31
For profp'rous princes gain their fubjects heart,
Who love that praiſe in which themſelves have part.
By you he fits thofe fubjects to obey,
As heaven's eternal monarch does convey
His pow'r unfeen, and man, to his defigns
By his bright minifters the ftars, inclines.
Our fetting fun, from his declining feat,
Shot beams of kindneſs on you, not of heat:
And, when his love was bounded in a few,
That were unhappy that they might be true,
Made you the favourite of his laft fad times,
That is a fuff'rer in his fubjects crimes:
Thus thofe first favours you receiv'd, were fent,
Like heav'ns rewards in earthly punishment.
Yet fortune, confcious of your destiny,
E'en then took care to lay you foftly by;
And wrap'd your fate among her precious things,
Kept fresh to be unfolded with your king's.
Shewn all at once you dazzled fo our eyes,
As new-born Pallas did the gods furprife:
When, fpringing forth from Jove's new-clofing wound,
She ftruck the warlike fpear into the ground;
Which sprouting leaves did fuddenly inclofe,
And peaceful olives fhaded as they rofe.
How ftrangely active are the arts of peace,
Whoſe reſtlefs motions lefs than wars do ceaſe!
Peace is not freed from labour but from noife;
And war more force, but not more pains employs:
Such is the mighty fwiftneſs of your mind,
That, like the earth, it leaves our fenfe behind,
While you fo fmoothly turn and roll our fphere,
That rapid motion does but reft a
appear.
For, as in nature's ſwiftnefs, with the throng
Of flying orbs while ours is born along,
All feems at reft to the deluded eye,
Mov'd by the foul of the fame harmony,
So,
32
To the LORD-CHANCELLOR HYDE.
So, carry'd on by your unwearied care,
We reft in peace, and yet in motion fhare.
Let envy then thoſe crimes within you ſee,
From which the happy never must be free;
Envy, that does with mifery refide,
The joy and the revenge of ruin'd pride.
Think it not hard, if at fo cheap a rate
You can fecure the conftancy of fate,
Whoſe kindneſs fent what does their malice feem,
By leffer ills the greater to redeem.
Nor can we this weak fhow'r a tempeft call,
But drops of heat, that in the fun-fhine fall.
You have already weary'd fortune fo,
She cannot farther be your friend or foe;
But fits all breathlefs, and admires to feel
A fate fo weighty, that it ftops our wheel.
In all things elſe above our humble fate,
Your equal mind yet fwells not into ftate,
But, like ſome mountain in thofe happy ifles,
Where in perpetual fpring young nature fmiles,
Your greatneſs fhews: no horror to affright,
But trees for fhade, and flowers to court the fight:
Sometimes the hill fubmits itfelf a while
In fmall defcents, which do its height beguile;
And ſometimes mounts, but fo as billows play,
Whoſe riſe not hinders but makes fhort our way.
Your brow, which does no fear of thunder know,
Sees rolling tempefts vainly beat below;
And, like Olympus' top, the impreffion wears
Of love and friendſhip writ in former years.
Yet, unimpair'd with labours, or with time,
Your age but ſeems to a new youth to climb.
Thus heav'nly bodies do our time beget,
And meaſure change, but ſhare no part of it.
And ſtill it fhall without a weight increafe,
Like this new-year, whofe motions never ceafe.
For
To the LORD-CHANCELLOR HYDE.
33
1
For fince the glorious courſe you have begun
Is led by Charles, as that is by the fun,
It must both weightlefs and immortal prove,
Becauſe the centre of it is above.
SATIRE on the DUTCH.
Written in the YEAR 1662.
A
S needy gallants, in the fcrivener's hands,
Court the rich knaves that gripe their mortgag'd
[lands;
The first fat buck of all the feafon's fent,
And keeper takes no fee in compliment;
The dotage of fome Englishmen is fuch,
To fawn on thofe, who ruin them the Dutch.
They fhall have all, rather than make a war
With thoſe, who of the fame religion are.
The Straits, the Guiney-trade, the herrings too;
Nay, to keep friendship, they fhall pickle you.
Some are refolv'd not to find out the cheat,
But, cuckold-like, love them that do the feat.
What injuries foe'er upon us fall,
Yet ftill the fame religion anfwers all.
Religion wheedled us to civil war,
Drew English blood, and Dutchmen's now wou'd ſpare.
Be gull'd no longer; for you'll find it true,
They have no more religion, faith! than you.
Intereft's the god they worſhip in their ſtate,
And we, I take it, have not much of that.
Well monarchies may own religion's name,
But ftates are atheiſts in their very frame.
They ſhare a fin; and fuch proportions fall,
That, like a flink, 'tis nothing to them all.
Think on their rapine, falfhood, cruelty,
And that what once they were, they ftill wou'd be.
VOL. I.
D
To
34
SATIRE on the DUTCH.
To one well-born th' affront is worfe and more,
When he's abus'd and baffl'd by a boor.
With an ill grace the Dutch their miſchiefs do;
They've both ill nature and ill manners too.
Well may they boaft themſelves an ancient nation;
For they were bred ere manners were in faſhion:
And their new commonwealth has fet them free
Only from honour and civility.
Venetians I do not more uncouthly ride,
Than did their lubber ftate mankind beftride.
Their fway became 'em with as ill a mien,
As their own paunches fwell above their chin.
Yet is their empire no true growth but humour,
And only two kings touch can cure the tumour.
As Cato 2, fruits of Afric did diſplay;
Let us before our eyes their Indies lay:
All loyal Engliſh will like him conclude;
Let Cæfar live, and Carthage be fubdu'd.
To
】 Venetians do not more uncouthly ride, &c. Horſes are almoſt uſe-
lefs in Venice from its fituation, there being canals in every ſtreet,
"To ride as badly as a grandee of Venice," is become a proverb all
over Italy.
2 As Cato did of Afric fruits difplay
Let us before our eyes their Indies lay;
All loyal English will like him conclude
Let Cafar live, and Carthage be fubdued.
The occafion of the third punic war, which ended in the abfolute
deftruction of Carthage, was the republic's having quarrelled with
and been defeated by Mafliniffa, king of Numidia, who being al-
lied to Rome, they had reafon to fear her refentment, to deprecate
which they fent thither two folemn embaffies, and banished Afdru-
bal and Cathalon, the two generals, who had commanded their de-
feated forces. Such a fituation of affairs occafioned the holding of
feveral councils, in all which Cato ftrongly urged a war, ftimulated
thereto by the pride, luxury, riches, and growing power of Carthage.
One day as he harrangued to this effect, he is faid to have taken fome
fine figs from his breaft, and flung them on the table, the fize and
beauty of which having attracted the eyes of the fenators, " They
are of Carthage," cried he, "only three days old; we require no
longer time to face this afpiring enemy." And ever after when this
point chanced to be in debate, he concluded his fpeeches with the
very
[ 35 ]
To Her ROYAL HIGHNESS
THE
DUTCHESS',
On the Memorable VICTORY gained by
the DUKE over the HOLLANDERS,
June the third, 1665. And on her
JOURNEY afterwards into the NORTH.
MADAM,
WH
HEN, for our fakes, your hero you refign'd
To fwelling feas, and every faithlefs wind;
When you releas'd his courage, and ſet free
A valour fatal to the enemy;
You lodg'd your country's cares within your breaſt
(The manfion where foft love ſhould only reft :)
And, ere our foes abroad were overcome,
The nobleft conqueft you had gain'd at home.
Ah, what concerns did both your fouls divide!
Your honour gave us what your love deny'd:
And 'twas for him much eaſier to fubdue
Thoſe foes he fought with, than to part from you.
That glorious day, which two fuch navies faw,
As each unmatch'd might to the world give law.
Neptune, yet doubtful whom he ſhould obey,
Held to them both the trident of the ſea :
The winds were hufh'd, the waves in ranks were caſt,
As awfully as when God's people paſt :
Thofe, yet uncertain on whofe fails to blow,
Theſe, where the wealth of nations ought to flow.
Then with the duke your highneſs rul'd the day :
While all the brave did his command obey,
The fair and pious under you did pray.
very laft words of this poem, "Let Carthage be fubdued," "delenda
eft Carthago.'
I Daughter to the great earl of Clarendon.
D 2
How
36
To the DUTCHESS of YORK.
How powerful are chafte vows! the wind and tide
You brib'd to combat on the Engliſh fide.
Thus to your much-lov'd lord you did convey
An unknown fuccour, fent the neareſt way.
New vigour to his wearied arms you brought,
(So Mofes was upheld while Ifrael fought)
While, from afar, we heard the cannon play,
Like diftant thunder on a fhiny day.
For abfent friends we were afham'd to fear,
When we confider'd what you ventur'd there.
Ships, men, and arms, our country might reſtore,
But fuch a leader could fupply no more.
With generous thoughts of conqueft he did burn,
Yet fought not more to vanquiſh than return.
Fortune and victory he did purfue,
To bring them as his flaves to wait on you.
Thus beauty raviſh'd the rewards of fame,
And the fair triumph'd when the brave o'ercame,
Then, as you meant to ſpread another way
By land your conquefts, far as his by fea,
Leaving our fouthern clime, you march'd along
The ftubborn North, ten thouſand Cupids ftrong.
Like commons the nobility reſort,
In crowding heaps, to fill your moving court:
To welcome your approach the vulgar run,
Like fome new envoy from the diſtant fun,
And country beauties by their lovers go,
Bleffing themſelves, and wondering at the fhow.
So when the new-born Phoenix firft is feen,
Her feather'd fubjects all adore their queen,
And while fhe makes her progrefs through the Eaſt,
From every grove her numerous train's increaft:
Each Poet of the air her glory fings,
And round him the pleas'd audience clap their wings,
ANNUS
ZZI IZ ILLI
spa o
ANNUS MIRABILIS:
THE
YEAR of WONDERS,
1666.
AN HISTORICAL POEM.
ЯM NA IH DA ske in the MAMA SR s sk
MÉ
D 3
[ 39 ]
F
}
ΤΟ ΤΗ Ε
METROPOLIS of GREAT-BRITAIN,
The moſt Renowned and late Flouriſhing
CITY of LONDON,
In its REPRESENTATIVES
The LORD-MAYOR and Court of ADDER-
MEN, the SHERIFFS, and COMMON-
COUNCIL of it.
As amature to
S perhaps I am the firft whoever prefented a
work of this nature to the metropolis of any
nation; fo it is likewife confonant to juftice, that
he who was to give the firſt example of fuch a de-
dication fhould begin it with that city, which has
fet a pattern to all others of true loyalty, invincible
courage, and unfhaken conftancy. Other cities
have been praiſed for the fame virtues, but I am
much deceived if any have fo dearly purchaſed
their reputation; their fame has been won them
by cheaper trials than an expenfive, though ne-
ceffary war, a confuming peftilence, and a more
confuming fire. To fubmit yourſelves with that
humility to the judgments of heaven, and at the
fame time to raiſe yourſelves with that vigour
above all human enemies; to be combated at once
from above, and from below, to be ftruck down
and to triumph: I know not whether fuch trials
have been ever paralleled in any nation: the re-
folution and fucceffes of them never can be. Ne-
ver had prince or people more mutual reaſon to
love each other, if fuffering for each other can
endear affection. You have come together a pair
D 4
of
40
DEDICATION.
of matchless lovers, through many difficulties; he,
through a long exile, various trave: fes of fortune,
and the interpofition of many rivals, who violently
ravifhed and with-held you from him: and cer-
tainly you have had your fhare in fufferings. But
Providence has caft upon you want of trade, that
you might appear bountiful to your country's ne-
ceffities and the rest of your afflictions are not
more the effects of God's difpleaſure (frequent
examples of them having been in the reign of the
moft excellent princes) than occafions for the
manifefting of your chriſtian and civil virtues. To
you therefore this Year of Wonders is juſtly de-
dicated, becauſe you have made it fo. You, who
are to itand a wonder to all years and ages; aud,
who have built yourſelves an immortal monument
on your own ruins. You are now a Phoenix in
her afhes, and, as far as humanity can approach,
a great emblem of the fuffering Deity: but heaven
never made fo much piety and virtue to leave it
miferable. I have heard, indeed, of fome virtuous
perfons who have ended unfortunately, but never of
any virtuous nation: Providence is engaged too
deeply, when the cauſe becomes ſo general; and I
cannot imagine it has refolved the ruin of that peo-
ple at home, which it has bleffed abroad with fuch
fucceffes. I am therefore to conclude, that your
fufferings are at an end; and that one part of my
poem has not been more an hiftory of your deftruc-
tion, than the other a prophecy of your reftoration.
The accomplishment of which happinefs, as it is
the wifh of all true Engliſhmen, fo is it by none
more paffionately defired, than by,
The greatest of your admirers,
and moſt humble of your fervants,
JOHN DRYDEN.
An
[ 41 ]
An ACCOUNT of the enfuing
PO E
M,
In a LETTER to the Honourable
Sir ROBERT HOWARD.
I
SIR,
AM fo many ways obliged to you, and fo little
able to return your favours, that, like thoſe who
owe too much, I can only live by getting farther
into your debt. You have not only been careful of
my fortune, which was the effect of your nobleneſs,
but you have been folicitous of my reputation, which
is that of your kindneſs. It is not long fince I gave
you the trouble of peruſing a play for me, and now,
inftead of an acknowledgment, I have given you a
greater, in the correction of a poem. But fince you
are to bear this perfecution, I will at leaſt give you
the encouragement of a martyr; you could never
fuffer in a nobler caufe. For 1 have chofen the moſt
heroic fubject, which any poet could defire: I have
taken upon me to defcribe the motives, the begin-
ning, progrefs, and fucceffes, of a moſt juft and ne-
ceffary war; in it, the care, management, and pru-
dence of our king; the conduct and valour of a royal
admiral, and of two incomparable generals; the in-
vincible courage of our captains and feamen; and
three glorious victories, the refult of all. After this
I have, in the Fire, the moft deplorable, but withal
the greateft, argument that can be imagined: the
defruction being fo wift, fo fudden, fo vaft and
miferable
42
A LETTER to
miferable, as nothing can parallel in ftory. The
former part of this poem, relating to the war, is but
a due expiation for my not ferving my king and
country in it. All gentlemen are almoft obliged to
it: and I know no reafon we ſhould give that advan-
tage to the commonalty of England, to be foremoſt
in brave actions, which the nobles of France would
never fuffer in their peafants. I fhould not have
written this but to a perfon, who has been ever for-
ward to appear in all employments, whether his
honour and generofity have called him. The latter
part of my poem, which defcribes the Fire, I owe,
first to the piety and fatherly affection of our monarch
to his fuffering fubjects; and, in the fecond place,
to the courage, loyalty, and magnanimity of the
city; both which were fo confpicuous, that I have
wanted words to celebrate them as they deſerve. I
have called my poem Hiftorical, not Epic, though
both the actions and actors are as much heroic as any
poem can contain. But fince the action is not pro-
perly one, nor that accomplished in the laft fucceffes,
I have judged it too beld a title for a few ftanzas,
which are little more in number than a fingle Iliad,
or the longeſt of the Eneids. For this reafon (I
mean not of length, but broken action, tied too fe-
verely to the laws of hiftory) I am apt to agree with
thofe, who rank Lucan, rather among hiftorians in
verfe, than Epic poets: in whoſe room, if I am not
deceived, Silius Italicus, though a worfe writer,
may more juftly be admitted. I have chofen to
write my poem in quatrains, or ftanzas of four in
alternate rhyme, becauſe I have ever judged them
more noble, and of greater dignity, both for the
found and number, than any other verfe in uſe
amongſt us; in which I am fure I have your appro-
bation. The learned languages have certainly a
great
Sir R. HOWARD.
43
great advantage of us, in not being tied to the
flavery of any rhyme; and were lefs conftrained
in the quantity of every fyllable, which they might
vary with fpondees or dactyls, befides fo many other
helps of grammatical figures, for the lengthening
or abbreviation of them, than the modern are in
the cloſe of that one fyllable, which often confines,
and more often corrupts, the fenſe of all the reft.
But in this neceffity of our rhymes, I have always
found the couplet verfe moft eafy, though not fo
proper for this occafion: for there the work is fooner
at an end, every two lines concluding the labour of
the poet; but in quatrains he is to carry it farther
on, and not only fo, but to bear along in his head
the troubleſome fenfe of four lines together. For
thofe, who write correctly in this kind, muft needs
acknowledge, that the laft line of the ftanza is to
be confidered in the compofition of the firft. Nei-
ther can we give ourſelves the liberty of making any
part of a verfe for the fake of rhyme, or conclud-
ing with a word which is not current Engliſh, or
ufing the variety of female rhymes; all which our
fathers practifed: and for the female rhymes; they
are ſtill in uſe among other nations; with the Italian
in every line, with the Spaniard promifcuouſly, with
the French alternately; as thofe who have read the
Alarique, the Pucelle, or any of their later poems,
will agree with me. And beſides this, they write
in Alexandrins, or verfes of fix feet; fuch as amongſt
us is the old tranflation of Homer by Chapman: all
which, by lengthening of their chain, makes the
fphere of their activity the larger. I have dwelt too
long upon the choice of my ftanza, which you may
remember is much better defended in the preface to
Gondibert; and therefore I will haften to acquaint
you with my endeavours in the writing. In general.
I
44
A LETTER to
I will only fay, I have never yet ſeen the deſcription
of any naval fight in the proper terms which are uſed
at fea and if there be any fuch, in another language,
as that of Lucan in the third of his Pharfalia, yet I
could not avail myſelf of it in the English; the terms
of art in every tongue bearing more of the idiom of
it than any other words. We hear indeed among
our poets, of the thundering of guns, the ſmoke,
the diforder, and the flaughter; but all thefe are
common notions. And certainly, as thofe, who, in
a logical diſpute keep in general terms, would hide
a fallacy; fo thofe, who do it in any poetical defcrip-
tion, would veil their ignorance.
Defcriptas fervare vices operumque colores,
Cur ego, fi nequeo ignorcque, Poeta falutor ?
For my own part, if I had little knowledge of the
fea, yet I have thought it no fhame to learn and if
I have made fome few mistakes, it is only, as you
can bear me witnefs, becaufe I have wanted oppor-
tunity to correct them; the whole poem being firſt
written, and now fent you from a place, where I
have not ſo much as the converſe of any feaman. Yet
though the trouble I had in writing it was great, it
was more than recompenfed by the pleaſure. I found
myſelf ſo warm in celebrating the praiſes of military
men, two fuch eſpecially as the prince and general,
that it is no wonder if they infpired me with thoughts
above my ordinary level. And I am well fatisfied,
that, as they are incomparably the best fubject I
ever had, excepting only the royal family, fo alſo,
that this I have written of them is much better than
what I have performed on any other. I have been
forced to help out other arguments; but this has been
1 Prince Rupert and general Monk duke of Albemarle.
bountiful
Sir R.
45
HOWARD.
bountiful to me: they have been low and barren of
praife, and I have exalted them, and made them
fruitful; but here--Omnia fponte fua reddit juſtifima
tellus. I have had a large, a fair, and a pleaſant
field; fo fertile, that without my cultivating, it has
given me two harveſts in a fummer, and in both op-
preffed the reaper. All other greatnefs in fubjects is
only counterfeit: it will not endure the teft of dan-
ger; the greatneſs of arms is only real: other great-
nefs burdens a nation with its weight; this fupports
it with its ftrength. And as it is the happineſs of
the age, fo it is the peculiar goodness of the beſt of
kings, that we may praiſe his fubjects without offend-
ing him. Doubtleſs it proceeds from a juſt confi-
dence of his own virtue, which the luftre of no other
can be ſo great as to darken in him; for the good or
the valiant are never ſafely praiſed under a bad or a
degenerate prince. But to return from this digreffion
to a farther account of my poem; I muft crave leave
to tell you, that as I have endeavoured to adorn it
with noble thoughts, fo much more to exprefs thofe
thoughts with elocution. The compofition of all
poems is, or ought to be, of wit; and wit in the
poet, or wit-writing (if you will give me leave to
uſe a ſchool-diftinction) is no other than the faculty
of imagination in the writer, which, like a nimble
fpaniel, beats over and ranges through the field of
memory, 'till it fprings the quarry it hunted after :
or, without metaphor, which fearches over all the
memory for the ſpecies or ideas of thoſe things which
it defigns to reprefent. Wit written is that which is
well defined, the happy refult of thought, or product
of imagination. But to proceed from wit, in the
general notion of it, to the proper wit of an heroic
or hiſtorical poem; I judge it chiefly to confft in the
delightful imaging of perfons, actions, paffions, or
things.
46
A LETTER to
things. 'Tis not the jerk or fting of an epigram,
nor the feeming contradiction of a poor antithefis
(the delight of an ill-judging audience in a play of
rhyme) nor the gingle of a more poor Paranomafia;
neither is it ſo much the morality of a grave ſentence,
affected by Lucan, but more fparingly ufed by Vir-
gil; but it is fome lively and apt defcription, dreſſed
in fuch colours of fpeech, that it fets before your eyes
the abfent object, as perfectly, and more delightfully
than nature. So then the first happineſs of the poet's
imagination is properly invention or finding of the
thought; the fecond is fancy, or the variation, de-
riving or moulding of that thought as the judgment
reprefents it proper to the fubject; the third is elocu-
tion, or the art of cloathing and adorning that
thought, ſo found and varied, in apt, fignificant,
and founding words: the quicknefs of the imagina-
tion is ſeen in the invention, the fertility in the fancy,
and the accuracy in the expreffion. For the two
firft of thefe, Ovid is famous amongst the poets; for
the latter, Virgil. Ovid images more often the
movements and affections of the mind, either com-
bating between two contrary paffions, or extremely
difcompofed by one. His words therefore are the
leaft part of his care; for he pictures nature in dif-
order, with which the ſtudy and choice of words is
inconfiftent. This is the proper wit of dialogue or
difcourfe, and confequently of the drama, where all
that is faid is to be fuppofed the effect of fudden
thought; which, though it excludes not the quick-
nefs of wit in repartees, yet admits not a too curious
election of words, too frequent allufions, or uſe of
tropes, or in fine any thing that fhews remotenefs of
thought or labour in the writer. On the other fide,
Virgil fpeaks not fo often to us in the perfon of
another, like Ovid, but in his own: he relates
almost
Sir R. HOWARD.
47
almoſt all things as from himſelf, and thereby gains
more liberty than the other, to exprefs his thoughts.
with all the graces of elocution, to write more
figuratively, and to confefs as well the labour as the
force of his imagination. Though he defcribes his
Dido well and naturally, in the violence of her paſ-
ſions, yet he muft yield in that to the Myrrha, the
Biblis, the Althaea, of Ovid; for as great an ad-
mirer of him as I am, I must acknowledge, that if I
fee not more of their fouls. than I fee of Dido's, at
leaft I have a greater concernment for them: and
that convinces me, that Ovid has touched thoſe
tender ftrokes more delicately than Virgil could.
But when action or perfons are to be defcribed, when
any fuch image is to be fet before us, how bold,
how maſterly are the ftrokes of Virgil! We fee the
objects he prefents us with in their native figures, in
their proper motions; but fo we ſee them, as our
own eyes could never have beheld them fo beautiful
in themfelves. We fee the foul of the poet, like
that univerfal one of which he fpeaks, informing
and moving through-all his pictures :
-Totamque infufa per artus
Mens agitat molem, & magno fe corpore mifcet.
We behold him embellishing his images, as he makes
Venus breathing beauty upon her fon Æneas.
lumenque juvente
Purpureum, & lætos oculis aflârat honcres:
Quale manus addunt Ebori decus, aut ubi flavo
Argentum Pariufve lapis circundatur auro.
See his Tempeft, his Funeral Sports, his Combat
of Turnus and Æneas: and in his Georgics, which
1 eſteem the divineft part of all his writings, the
Plague, the Country, the Battle of the Bulls, the
Labour
48
A LETTER to
Labour of the Bees, and thofe many other excellent
images of nature, moſt of which are neither great in
themſelves, nor have any natural ornament to bear
them up: but the words wherewith he defcribes them
are ſo excellent, that it might be well applied to
him, which was faid by Ovid, Materiam fuperabat
opus: the very found of his words has often fome-
what that is connatural to the fubject; and while we
read him, we fit, as in a play, beholding the fcenes
of what he reprefents. To perform this, he made
frequent ufe of tropes, which you know change the
nature of a known word, by applying it to fome
other fignification; and this is it which Horace
means in his epiftle to the Pifo's:
Dixeris egregiè, notum fi callida verbum
Reddiderit jun&ura novum-
But I am fenfible I have prefumed too far to enter-
tain you with a rude difcourfe of that art, which you
both know fo well, and put into practice with fo
much happiness. Yet before I leave Virgil, I muſt
own the vanity to tell you, and by you the world,
that he has been my mafter in this poem: I have fol-
lowed him every where, I know not with what fuc-
cefs, but I am fure with diligence enough: my
images are many of them copied from him, and the
reft are imitations of him. My expreffions alſo are
as near as the idioms of the two languages would
admit of in tranflation. And this, Sir, I have done
with that boldness, for which I will ftand accoun-
table to any of our little critics, who, perhaps, are
no better acquainted with him than 1 am. Upon
your first perufal of this poem, you have taken no-
tice of fome words, which I have innovated (if it be
too bold for me to fay refined) upon his Latin;
which, as I offer not to introduce into English profe,
fo
Sir R.
49:
HOWARD.
fo I hope they are neither improper, nor altogether
inelegant in verfe; and, in this, Horace will again
defend me.
Et nova, fictaque nuper, habebunt verba fidem, fi
Græco fonte cadunt, parcè detorta--
The inference is exceeding plain: for if a Roman
poet might have liberty to coin a word, fuppofing
only that it was derived from the Greek, was put
into a Latin termination, and that he uſed this liberty
but feldom, and with modefty; how much more juftly
may I challenge that privilege to do it with the fame
prerequifites, from the beft and moft judicious of
Latin writers? In fome places, where either the fancy
or the words were his, or any other's, I have noted
it in the margin, that I might not feem a plagiary;
in others I have neglected it, to avoid as well tedi-
ouſneſs, as the affectation of doing it too often. Such
defcriptions or images well wrought, which I
pro-
miſe not for mine, are, as I have faid, the adequate
delight of heroic poefy; for they beget admiration,
which is its proper object; as the images of the bur-
lefque, which is contrary to this, by the fame rea-
fon beget laughter: for the one fhews nature beauti-
fied, as in the picture of a fair woman, which we all
admire; the other fhews her deformed, as in that of
a lazar, or of a fool with diftorted face and antique
geftures, at which we cannot forbear to laugh, be-
cauſe it is a deviation from nature. But though the
fame images ferve equally for the Epic poefy, and
for the hiftoric and panegyric, which are branches
of it, yet a feveral fort of fculpture is to be uſed in
them. If fome of them are to be like thofe of Juve-
nal, Stantes in curribus Æmiliani, heroes drawn in
their triumphal chariots, and in their full propor-
tion; others are to be like that of Virgil, Spirantia
VOL. I,
mollius
E
50
A LETTER to
mollius era: there is fomewhat more of foftrefs and
tenderneſs to be fhewn in them. You will foon find
I write not this without concern. Some, who have
ſeen a paper of verſes, which I wrote laſt year to her
Highness the Dutchefs, have accufed them of that
only thing I could defend in them. They faid, I did
humi ferpere, that I wanted not only height of fancy,
but dignity of words, to fet it off. I might well
anſwer with that of Horace, Nunc non erat his locus;
I knew I addreffed them to a lady, and accordingly
I affected the foftnefs of expreffion, and the fmooth-
neſs of meaſure, rather than the height of thought;
and in what I did endeavour, it is no vanity to fay
I have fucceeded. I deteft arrogance; but there is
ſome difference betwixt that and a juſt defence. But
I will not farther bribe your candor, or the reader's.
I leave them to ſpeak for me; and, if they can, to
make out that character, not pretending to a greater,
which I have given them.
And now, Sir, 'tis time I ſhould relieve you from
the tedious length of this account. You have better
and more profitable employment for your hours, and
I wrong the public to detain you longer. In conclu-
fion, I muft leave my poem to you with all its faults,
which I hope to find fewer in the printing by your
emendations. I know you are not of the number of
thofe, of whom the younger Pliny fpeaks; Nec funt
parum
multi, qui carpere amicos fuos judicium vocant: I
am rather too fecure of you on that fide. Your can-
dor in pardoning my errors may make you more re-
mifs in correcting them; if you will not withal con-
fider that they come into the world with your appro-
bation, and through your hands. I beg from you the
greatest favour you can confer upon an abfent perfon,
fince I repofe upon your management what is deareſt
to me, my fame and reputation; and therefore I hope
it
Sir R. HOWARD.
51
it will ftir you up to make my poem fairer by many
of your blots; if not, you know the ftory of the
gameſter who married the rich man's daughter, and
when her father denied the portion, christened all
the children by his firname, that if, in conclufion,
they must beg, they ſhould do fo by one name, as
well as by the other. But fince the reproach of my
faults will light on you, 'tis but reafon I ſhould do
you that juſtice to the readers, to let them know,
that, if there be any thing tolerable in this poem,
they owe the argument to your choice, the writing
to your encouragement, the correction to your judg-
ment, and the care of it to your friendship, to which
he muft ever acknowledge himſelf to owe all things,
who is,
Sir,
the most obedient, and moft
faithful of your Servants,
From Charlton in Wiltshire,
Nov. 10, 1666,
E z
JOHN DRYDEN.
BOR·ETALBAN DOM-
JACOBVS
•DVX・EB
AGN ADMIRALLVS ANGLIÆ &c.)
1
ANNUS MIRABILIS:
The YEAR of WONDERS,
I.
1666.
IN ta ei when
N thriving arts long time had Holland grown,
Crouching at home and cruel when abroad :
Scarce leaving us the means to claim our own;
Our King they courted, and our merchants aw'd.
2.
Trade, which like blood fhould circularly flow,
Stopp'd in their channels, found its freedom loft:
Thither the wealth of all the world did go,
And feem'd but ſhipwreck'd on fo baſe a coaſt.
3•
For them alone the heavens had kindly heat;
In eaftern quarries ripening precious dew 1;
For them the Idumæan balm did ſweat,
And in hot Ceilon fpicy forefts grew.
1 In callein quarries, &c. It is a notion with fome people, that
precious ones are drops of dew, condenfed and hardened by the
warmth of the fun, or by fubterranean files.
4. The
:
I
}
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
53
4.
The fun but feem'd the labourer of the year;
Each waxing moon fupply'd her watery ftore,
To fwell thofe tides, which from the line did bear
Their brim-full veffels to the Belgian fhore.
5.
Thus mighty in her fhips, flood Carthage long,
And ſwept the riches of the world from far;
Yet ſtoop'd to Rome, lefs wealthy, but more ftrong:
And this may prove our fecond Punic war.
6.
What peace can be, where both to one pretend?
(But they more diligent, and we more ftrong)
Or if a piece, it foon muſt have an end;
For they would grow too powerful were it long.
7.
Behold two nations then, engag'd ſo far,
That each ſeven years the fit muſt ſhake each land:
Where France will fide to weaken us by war,
Who only can his vaſt deſigns withſtand.
8.
See how he feeds th' Iberian with delays,
To render us his timely friendſhip vain :
And while his fecret foul on Flanders preys,
He rocks the cradle of the babe of Spain.
9.
Such deep defigns of empire does he lay
O'er them, whofe caufe he feems to take in hand;
And prudently would make them lords at fea,
To whom with eaſe he can give laws by land.
10.
This faw our King; and long within his breaſt
His penfive couniels balanc'd to and fro :
He griev'd the land he freed thould be opprefs'd,
And he lefs for it than ufurpers do,
E 3
11. His
54
ANNUS MIRABILIS..
H.
His generous mind the fair ideas drew
Of fame and honour, which in dangers lay;
Where wealth, like fruit on precipices, grew,
Not to be gather'd but by birds of prey.
12.
The lofs and gain each fatally were great;
And ſtill his fubjects call'd aloud for war:
But peaceful kings, o'er martial people fet,
Each other's poize and counterbalance are.
13.
He first furvey'd the charge with careful eyes,
Which none but mighty monarchs could maintain ş
Yet judg'd, like vapours that from limbecs rife,
It would in richer fhowers defcend again.
14.
At length refolv'd t' affert the watery ball,
He in himſelf did whole Armadoes bring:
Him aged feamen might their maſter call,
And chufe for general, were he not their King.
15.
It ſeems as every fhip their fovereign knows,
His awful fummons they ſo foon obey;
So hear the fcaly herd when Proteus blows,
And fo to paſture follow through the fea.
16.
To fee this fleet upon the ocean move,
Angels drew wide the curtains of the ſkies
And heaven, as if there wanted lights above,
For tapers made two glaring comets rife.
17.
Whether they unctuous exhalations are,
Fir'd by the fun, or feeming fo alone :
Or each fome more remote and flippery ftar,
Which lofes footing when to mortals fhewn.
3
18. Or
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
55
18.
Or one, that bright companion of the fun,
Whofe glorious afpect feal'd our new-born King;
And now a round of greater years begun,
New influence from his walks of light did bring.
19.
Victorious York did firft with fam'd fuccefs,
To his known valour make the Dutch give place :
Thus heaven our monarch's fortune did confefs,
Beginning conqueſt from his royal race.
20.
But fince it was decreed, aufpicious King,
In Britain's right that thou fhouldft wed the main,
Heav'n, as a gage, would caft fome precious thing,
And therefore doom'd that 2 Lawfon fhould be ſlain.
21.
Lawfon amongst the foremost met his fate,
Whom fea-green Sirens from the rocks lament:
Thus as an offering for the Grecian ſtate,
He firft was kill'd who firft to battle went.
22.
Their chief blown up in air, not waves, expir'd,
To which his pride prefum'd to give the law:
The Dutch confefs'd heaven preſent, and retir'd,
And all was Britain the wide ocean faw.
23.
To neareſt ports their fhatter'd fhips repair,
Where by our dreadful cannon they lay aw'd:
So reverently men quit the open air,
Where thunder fpeaks the angry gods abroad.
24.
And now approach'd their fleet from India fraught,
With all the riches of the rifing fun :
And precious fand from fouthern climates brought,
The fatal regions where the war begun.
2 Sir John Lawſon rear admiral of the red, killed by a ball that
wounded him in the knee.
E 4
25. Like
56
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
25.
Like hunted caftors, confcious of their ſtore,
Their way-laid wealth to Norway's coafts they bring:
There firft the North's cold bofom fpices bore,
And winter brooded on the eaſtern ſpring.
26.
By the rich ſcent we found our perfum'd prey,
Which, flank'd with rocks, did cloſe in covert lie:
And round about their murdering cannon lay,
At once to threaten and invite the eye.
27.
Fiercer than cannon, and than rocks more hard,
The English undertake the unequal war:
Seven fhips alone, by which the port is barr'd,
Befiege the Indies, and all Denmark dare.
28.
Thefe fight like huſbands, but like lovers thoſe :
Theſe fain would keep, and thoſe more fain enjoy :
And to fuch height their frantic paffion grows,
That what both love, both hazard to deftroy.
29.
Amidft whole heaps of fpices lights a ball,
And now their odours arm'd againſt them fly:
Some preciouſly by fhatter'd porcelain fall,
And ſome by aromatic fplinters die.
30.
And though by tempefts of the prize bereft,
In heaven's inclemency fome eaſe we find :
Our foes we vanquish'd by our valour left,
And only yielded to the feas and wind.
31.
Nor wholly 3 loft we ſo deſerv'd a prey;
For ftorms repenting part of it reſtor❜d:
Which as a tribute from the Baltic fea,
The Britiſh ocean fent her mighty lord.
32. Go
3 The Dutch fhips on their return home being feparated by a
ftorm, the rear and vice-admirals of the Eaft India fleet, with four
men
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
37
L
32.
Go mortals now and vex yourſelves in vain
For wealth, which fo uncertainly muft come:
When what was brought fo far, and with fuch pain,
Was only kept to lofe it nearer home.
33.
The fon, who twice three months on th' ocean toft,
Prepar'd to tell what he had pafs'd before,
Now fees in Engliſh ſhips the Holland coaft,
And parents arms, in vain, ftretch'd from the fhore.
34.
This careful huſband had been long away,
Whom his chafte wife and little children mourn;
Who on their fingers learn'd to tell the day
On which their father promis'd to return.
35.
Such are the proud defigns of human-kind,
And ſo we fuffer fhipwreck every where!
Alas, what port can fuch a pilot find,
Who in the night of fate muft blindly fteer!
36.
The undiſtinguiſh'd feeds of good and ill,
Heaven in his bofom from our knowledge hides:
And draws them in contempt of human ſkill,
Which oft for friends miſtaken foes provides.
37.
Let & Munſter's prelate ever be accurft,
In whom we feek the German faith in vain :
Alas, that he fhould teach the English firft,
That fraud and avarice in the church could reign!
38. Happy
men of war, were taken by five English frigates. Soon after four
men of war, two firehips, and thirty other merchantmen, being
driven out of their courſe, joined our fleet instead of their own, and
were all taken. Theſe things happened in 1665.
4 The famous Beinard Vanghalen, biſhop of Munfter, excited by
Charles, marched twenty thousand men into the province of Uve-
ryilel, under the dominion of the republic of Holland, where be
committed
58
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
38.
Happy, who never truft a ftranger's will,
Whoſe friendſhip's in his intereft underſtood I
Since money given but tempts him to be ill,
When pow'r is too remote to make him good.
39.
Till now, alone the mighty nations ftrove;
The reft, at gaze, without the lifts did ftand:
And threatning France, plac'd like a painted Jove,
Kept idle thunder in his lifted hand,
40.
That eunuch guardian of rich Holland's trade,
Who envies us what he wants pow'r t' enjoy;
Whofe noifeful valour does no foe invade,
And weak affiſtance will his friends deſtroy.
4.
Offended that we fought without his leave,
He takes this time his fecret hate to fhew:
Which Charles does with a mind fo calm receive,
As one that neither feeks nor fhuns his foe.
42.
With France, to aid the Dutch, the Danes unite:
France as their tyrant, Denmark as their ſlave,
But when with one three nations join to fight,
They filently confefs that one more brave.
43.
Lewis had chas'd the English from his fhore?
But Charles the French as fubje&s does invite:
Would heaven for each fome Solomon reſtore,
Who, by their mercy, may decide their right,
committed great outrages, acting rather like a captain of banditti
than the leader of an army. However, we must allow he had fome
excufe for this conduct, when it is remembered that Charles neglected
to make him the promiſed remittances. On which account alfo he
was forced to clap up a peace, without giving us notice of his in-
tention.
44. Were
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
59
i
>
44.
Were fubjects fo but only by their choice,
And not from birth did forc'd dominion take,
Our prince alone would have the public voice;
And all his neighbours realms would deferts make.
45.
He without fear a dangerous war purſues,
Which without raſhneſs he began before:
As honour made him firft the danger chufe,
So ſtill he makes it good on virtue's fcore.
46.
The doubled charge his fubjects love fupplies,
Who in that bounty to themfelves are kind :
So glad Ægyptians fee their Nilus rife,
And in his plenty their abundance find.
47.
With equal pow'r he does two 5 chiefs create,
Two fuch as each feem'd worthieft when alone;
Each able to fuftain a nation's fate,
Since both had found a greater in their own.
48.
Both great in courage, conduct, and in fame,
Yet neither envious of the other's praife;
Their duty, faith, and int'reft too the fame,
Like mighty partners equally they raiſe.
49.
The prince long time had courted fortune's love,
But once poffefs'd did abfolutely reign:
Thus with their Amazons the heroes trove,
And conquer'd first thoſe beauties they would gain.
50.
The Duke beheld, like Scipio, with difdain,
That Carthage, which he ruin'd, rife once more i
And hook aloft the fafces of the main,
To fright thofe flaves with what they felt before,
5 Prince Rupert--and Moak, duke of Albermarle.
51. To.
бо
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
51.
Together to the watery camp they hafte,
Whom matrons paffing to their children fhew:
Infants firft vows for them to heaven are cait,
And future people blefs them as they go.
52.
With them no riotous pomp, nor Afian train,
To infect a navy with their gaudy fears ;
To make flow fights, and victories but vain :
But war feverely like itſelf appears.
53.
Diffufive of themſelves, where'er they paſs,
They make that warmth in others they expect:
Their valour works like bodies on a glafs,
And does its image on their men project.
54.
Our fleet divides, and ftraight the Dutch appear,
In number, and a fam'd commander, bold :
The narrow feas can fcarce their navy bear,
Or crowded veffels can their foldiers hold.
55.
The Duke, lefs numerous, but in courage more,
On wings of all the winds to combat flies:
His murdering guns a loud defiance roar,
And bloody croffes on his flag-ſtaffs riſe.
56.
Both furl their fails, and ftrip them for the fight;
Their folded ſheets difmifs the uſeleſs air:
Th' Elean plains could boaſt no nobler fight,
When ftruggling champions did their bodies bare.
57.
Borne each by other in a diftant line,
The fea-built forts in dreadful order move:
So vaft the noife, as if not fleets did join,
But lands unfix'd, and floating nations ftrove.
58. Now
1
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
61
58.
Now pafs'd, on either fide they nimbly tack;
Both ftrive to intercept and guide the wind:
And, in its eye, more clofely they come back,
To finiſh all the deaths they left behind.
59.
On high-rais'd decks the haughty Belgians ride,
Beneath whofe fhade our humble frigates go:
Such port the elephant bears, and ſo defy'd
By the rhinoceros her unequal fue.
60.
And as the built, fo diff'rent is the fight;
Their mounting fhot is on our fails defign'd:
Deep in their hulls our deadly bullets light,
And through the yielding planks a paſſage find.
61.
Our dreaded admiral from far they threat,
Whoſe batter'd rigging their whole war receives :
All bare, like fome old oak which tempefts beat,
He ftands, and fees below his fcatter'd leaves.
62.
Heroes of old, when wounded, fhelter fought;
But he who meets all danger with difdain,
E'en in their face his fhip to anchor brought,
And fteeple-high flood propt upon the main.
63.
At this excess of courage, all amaz'd,
The foremost of his foes awhile withdraw:
With fuch reffect in enter'd Rome they gaz'd,
Who on high chairs the god-like fathers faw.
64.
And now, as where Patroclus' body lay,
Here Trojan chiefs advanc'd, and there the Greek;
Ours o'er the Duke their pious wings difplay,
And theirs the nobleft fpoils of Britain feek.
65. Mean-
62
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
65.
Mean-time his bufy mariners he haftes,
His fhatter'd fails with rigging to reſtore 3
And willing pines afcend his broken mafts,
Whofe lofty heads rife higher than before.
66.
Straight to the Dutch he turns his dreadful prow,
More fierce th' important quarrel to decide :
Like fwans, in long array his veffels ſhow,
Whoſe creſts advancing do the waves divide.
67.
They charge, recharge, and all along the fea
They drive, and fquander the huge Belgian fleet,
Berkley 6 alone, who neareft danger lay,
Did a like fate with loft 7 Creufa meet.
68.
The night comes on, we eager to purſue
The combat ftill, and they afham'ɖ to leave:
Till the laft ftreaks of dying day withdrew,
And doubtful moon-light did our rage deceive.
69.
In th' English fleet each fhip refounds with joy,
And loud applauſe of their great leader's fame :
In fiery dreams the Dutch they fill deſtroy,
And flumbering fimile at the imagin'd flame.
6 Among other remarkable paffages in this engagement, the un-
daunted refolution of vice-admiral Berkley was particularly admired.
He had many men killed on board him, and tho' no longer able to
make reſiſtance, yet would obftinately continue the fight, refufing
quarter to the laft. Being at length ſhot in the throat with a musket-
ball, he retired to his cabbin, where, ftretching himſelf on a great
table, he expired; and in that pofture did the enemy, who afterwards
took the fhip, find the body covered with blood.
Did a like fate with loft Creufa meet.
neas, while Troy was in
a fame, borc off his father Anchifes on his back, and his fon Iulus
in his hand his wife Creufa following, was divided from him in the
eonfufion as he was near the city gate, nor did ever after fee her, as
he tells queen Dido in the fecond book of the Eneid, ver. 736, &c,
70. Not
}
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
63
70.
Not fo the Holland fleet, who tired and done,
Stretch'd on their decks like weary oxen lie:
Faint fweats all down their mighty members run;"
Vaft bulks which little fouls but ill ſupply.
71.
In dreams they fearful precipices tread:
Or fhipwreck'd, labour to fome diftant fhore:
Or in dark churches walk among the dead;
They wake with horror, and dare fleep no more.
72.
The morn they look on with unwilling eyes,
Till from their main-top joyful news they hear
Of ſhips, which by their mould bring new ſupplies,
And in their colours Belgian lions bear.
73.
Our watchful general had difcern'd from far
This mighty fuccour, which made glad the foe:
He figh'd, but like a father of the war,
His face fpake hope, while deep his forrows flow.
74.
His wounded men he firfts fends off to fhore,
Never till now unwilling to obey:
They, not their wounds, but want of ftrength deplore,
And think them happy who with him can ſtay.
75.
Then to the reft, Rejoice, faid he, to-day;
In you the fortune of Great-Britain lies:
Among fo brave a people, you are they
Whom heaven has choſe to fight for ſuch a prize.
76.
If number Engliſh courages could quell,
We should at firft have fhun'd, not met our foes:
Whose numerous fails the fearful only tell:
Courage from hearts and not from numbers grows.
77. He
64
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
77.
He ſaid, nor needed more to ſay: with hafte
To their known ftations chearfully they go;
And all at once, difdaining to be laft,
Solicit every gale to meet the foe.
78.
Nor did the encourag'd Belgians long delay,
But bold in others, not themſelves, they ſtood :
So thick, our navy ſcarce could ſteer their way,
But feem'd to wander in a moving wood.
79.
Our little fleet was now engag'd fo far,
That, like the fword-fifh in the whale they fought:
The combat only feem'd a civil war,
Till through their bowels we our paffage wrought.
80.
Never had valour, no not ours, before
Done ought like this upon the land or main,
Where not to be o'ercome was to do more
Than all the conquefts former kings did gain.
81.
The mighty ghofts of our great Harries rofe,
And armed Edwards look'd with anxious eyes,
To fee this fleet among unequal foes,
By which fate promis'd them their Charles fhould riſe.
82.
Mean-time the Belgians tack upon our rear,
And raking chaſe-guns through our fterns they ſend:
Clofe by their fire-fhips, like jackals, appear,
Who on their lions for the prey attend.
83.
Silent in fmoke of cannon they come on:
४.
Such vapours once did fiery & Cacus hide:
In
8 Cacus, the fon of Vulcan, is fabled to have reigned king of a
province in Spain, where his tyranny roufing the refentment of Her-
cules, he was by the latter attacked and totally defeated, escaping
only
こ
​ANNUS MIRABILIS.
65
In theſe the height of pleas'd revenge is ſhewn,
Who burn contented by another's fide.
84.
Sometimes from fighting fquadrons of each fleet,
Deceiv'd themſelves, or to preferve fome friend,
Two grapling Ætnas on the ocean meet,
And English fires with Belgian flames contend.
85.
Now at each tack our little fleet grows leſs;
And like maim'd fowl, ſwim lagging on the main :
Their greater lofs their numbers fcarce confefs,
While they lofe cheaper than the English gain.
86.
Have you not feen, when whiſtled from the fift,
Some falcon ftoops at what her eye defign'd,
And with her eagerness the quarry miſs'd,
Straight flies at check, and clips it down the wind?
87.
The daftard crow that to the wood made wing,
And fees the groves no ſhelter can afford,
With her loud kaws her craven kind does bring,
Who fafe in numbers cuff the noble bird.
88.
Among the Dutch thus Albemarle did fare:
He could not conquer, and diſdain'd to fly;
Paft hope of ſafety, 'twas his latest care,
Like falling Cæfar, decently to die.
89.
Yet pity did his manly fpirit move,
To fee thoſe perifh who fo well had fought;
And generouſly with his deſpair he ſtrove,
Refolv'd to live till he their fafety wrought.
only with fifty followers to a cave in the fide of a fteep mountain.
Here being cloſely rent up, and in want of provifions, Cacus, by his
art, taught his people to vomit fire and ſmoak, under cover of which
they retreated thro' the midſt of their enemies.
VOL. I.
F
90. Let
66
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
90.
Let other mufes write his profperous fate,
Of conquer'd nations tell, and kings reftor'd:
But mine fhall fing of his eclips'd eftate,
Which, like the fun's, more wonders does afford
91.
He drew his mighty frigates all before,
On which the foe his fruitlefs force employs:
His weak ones deep into his rear he bore
Remote from guns, as fick men from the noiſe.
92.
His fiery cannon did their paffage guide,
And following ſmoke obfcur'd them from the foe:
Thus Ifrael fafe from the Egyptian's pride,
By flaming pillars, and by clouds did go.
93.
Elſewhere the Belgian force we did defeat,
But here our courages did theirs fubdue:
So Xenophon once led that fam'd retreat,
Which firft the Afian empire overthrew.
94.
The foe approach'd; and one for his bold fin
Was funk; as he that touch'd the ark was flain:
The wild waves mafter'd him and fuck'd him in,
And fmiling eddies dimpled on the main.
95.
This feen, the reft at awful diſtance ſtood:
As if they had been there as fervants fet
To ftay, or to go on, as he thought good,
And not purſue but wait on his retreat.
96.
So Libyan huntfmen, on fome fandy plain,
From shady coverts rouz'd, the lion chace:
The kingly beaft roars out with loud diſdain,
And flowly moves, unknowing to give place.
2
97. But
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
67
[
97.
But if fome one approach to dare his force,
He fwings his tail, and ſwiftly turns him round;
With one paw feizes on his trembling horfe,
And with the other tears him to the ground.
98.
Anidft thefe toils fucceeds the balmy night;
Now hiffing waters the quench'd guns reſtore :
And weary waves withdrawing from the fight,
Lie lull'd and panting on the filent ſhore.
99.
The moon fhone clear on the becalmed flood,
Where while her beams like glittering filver play,
Upon the deck our careful general ſtood,
And deeply mus'd on the fucceeding day.
ICO.
That happy fun, faid he, will rife again,
Who twice victorious did our navy fee:
And I alone muft view him rife in vain,
Without one ray of all his ſtar for me.
101.
Yet like an English general will I die,
And all the ocean make my fpacious grave:
Women and cowards on the land may lie;
The ſea's a tomb that's proper for the brave.
102.
Reftlefs he pass'd the remnant of the night,
Tili the fresh air proclaim'd the morning nigh:
And burning fhips, the martyrs of the fight,
With paler fires beheld the eaſtern ſky.
103.
But now his ftores of ammunition ſpent,
His naked valour is his only guard :
Rare thunders are from his dumb cannon fent,
And folitary guns are fcarcely heard.
F 2
104. Thus
68
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
104.
Thus far had fortune power, he forc'd to ſtay,
Nor longer durft with virtue be at ſtrife:
This as a ranfom Albemarle did pay,
For all the glories of fo great a life.
105.
For now brave Rupert from afar appears,
Whoſe waving ſtreamers the glad general knows:
With full fpread fails his eager navy ſteers,
And every ſhip in fwift proportion grows.
106.
The anxious prince had heard the cannon long,
And from that length of time dire omens drew
Of Engliſh overmatch'd, and Dutch too strong,
Who never fought three days, but to purſue.
107.
Then, as an eagle, who with pious care
Was beating widely on the wing for prey,
To her now filent eiry does repair,
And finds her callow infants forc'd away:
108.
Stung with her love, fhe ftoops upon the plain,
The broken air loud whiſtling as fhe flies:
She ftops and liftens, and fhoots forth again,
And guides her pinions by her young ones cries,
109.
With fuch kind paffion haftes the prince to fight,
And ſpreads his flying canvafs to the found:
Him, whom no danger were he there could fright,
Now abfent every little noife can wound.
ILO.
As in a drought the thirsty creatures cry,
And gape upon the gather'd clouds for rain;
And firft the martlet meets it in the ſky,
And with wet wings joys all the feather'd train.
111. With
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
69
IJI.
With fuch glad hearts did our deſpairing men
Salute the appearance of the prince's fleet:
And each ambitioufly would claim the ken,
That with first eyes did diſtant ſafety meet.
112.
The Dutch, who came like greedy hinds before,
To reap the harveſt their ripe ears did yield,
Now look like thoſe, when rolling thunders roar,
And sheets of lightning blaft the ftanding field.
113.
Full in the prince's paffage, hills of fand,
And dangerous flats in fecret ambuſh lay,
Where the falfe tides fkim o'er the cover'd land,
And feamen with diffembled depths betray.
114.
The wily Dutch, who like fall'n angels fear'd
This new Meffiah's coming, there did wait,
And round the verge their braving veffels fteer'd,
To tempt his courage with ſo fair a bait.
115.
But he unmov'd contemns their idle threat,
Secure of fame whene'er he pleaſe to fight:
His cold experience tempers all his heat,
And inbred worth doth boaſting valour flight.
116.
Heroic virtue did his actions guide,
And he the fubftance not the appearance choſe:
To reſcue one fuch friend he took more pride,
Than to deftroy whole thouſands of fuch foes.
117.
But when approach'd, in ftrict embraces bound,
Rupert and Albemarle together grow:
He joys to have his friend in fafety found,
Which he to none but to that friend would owe.
F 3
118. The
70
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
118.
The chearful foldiers, with new ftores fupply'd,
Now long to execute their fpleenful will;
And in revenge for thoſe three days they try'd,
With one, like Jofhua's, when the fun ſtood ftill,
119.
Thus reinforc'd, againft the adverfe fleet,
Still doubling ours, brave Rupert leads the way?
With the firſt bluſhes of the morn they meet,
And bring night back upon the new-born day.
I20.
His preſence foon blows up the kindling fight,
And his loud guns ſpeak thick like angry men:
It ſeem'd as flaughter had been breath'd all night,
And death new pointed his dull dart agen.
121.
The Dutch too well his mighty conduct knew,
And matchlefs courage, fince the former fight:
Whoſe navy like a ſtiff-ftretch'd cord did ſhew,
Till he bore in and bent them into flight.
122.
The wind he fhares, while half their fleet offends
His open fide, and high above him ſhows:
Upon the rest at pleaſure he defcends,
And doubly harm'd he double harms beſtows,
123.
Behind the general mends his weary pace,
And fullenly to his revenge he fails:
So glides fome trodden ſerpent on the graſs,
And long behind his wounded volume trails,
124.
The increafing found is borne to either ſhore,
And for their ſtakes the throwing nations fear:
Their paffions double with the cannons roar,
And with warm wiſhes each man combats there.
125. Ply'd
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
71
125.
Ply'd thick and clofe as when the fight begun,
Their huge unwieldy navy waftes away:
So ficken waining moons too near the fun,
And blunt their creſcents on the edge of day.
126.
And now reduc'd on equal terms to fight,
Their fhips like wafted patrimonies fhow;
Where the thin fcattering trees admit the light,
And hun each other's fhadows as they grow.
127.
The warlike prince had fever'd from the reſt
Two giant fhips, the pride of all the main;
Which with his one fo vigorously he preſs'd,
And flew fo home they could not rife again.
128.
Already batter'd, by his lee they lay,
In vain upon the paffing winds they call:
The paffing winds through their torn canvass play,
And flagging fails on heartlefs failors fall.
129.
Their open'd fides receive a gloomy light,
Dreadful as day let into fhades below:
Without grim death rides barefac'd in their fight,
And urges entering billows as they flow.
130.
When one cire fhot, the laft they could fupply,
Clofe by the board the prince's main-maſt bore:
All three nov helplefs by each other lie,
And this offends not, and thoſe fear no more.
131.
So have I fees fome fearful hare maintain
A courfe, tl tired before the dog fhe lay:
Who ftretch'd behind her pants upon the plain,
Paft power ↳ kill, as fhe to get away,
F 4
132. With
72
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
132.
With his loll'd tongue he faintly licks his prey;
His warm breath blows her flix up as ſhe lies;
She trembling creeps upon the ground away,
And looks back to him with beſeeching eyes.
133.
The prince unjustly does his ftars accuſe,
Which hinder'd him to push his fortune on;
For what they to his courage did refuſe,
By mortal valour never muſt be done.
134.
This lucky hour the wife Batavian takes,
And warns his tatter'd fleet to follow home;
Proud to have ſo got off with equal ſtakes,
Where 'twas a triumph not to be o'ercome.
135.
The general's force as kept alive by fight,
Now not oppos'd no longer can purfae:
Lafting 'till heaven had done his courage right;
When he had conquer'd he his weakneſs knew,
136.
He cafts a frown on the departing foe,
And ſighs to ſee him quit the watery field:
His ftern fix'd eyes no fatisfaction ſhow,
For all the glories which the fight did yield.
137.
Though as when fiends did miracles avow,
He ſtands confefs'd e'en by the boaſtful Dutch:
He only does his conqueft difavow,
And thinks too little what they found too much,
138.
Return'd, he with the fleet refolv'd to ſtay;
No tender thoughts of home his heart divide;
Domeſtic joys and cares he puts away;
For realms are houfholds which the great muft guide.
139. As
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
73
139.
As thoſe who unripe veins in mines explore,
On the rich bed again the warm turf lay,
Till time digefts the yet imperfect ore,
And know it will be gold another day:
140.
So looks our monarch on this early fight,
Th' effay and rudiments of great fuccefs:
Which all-maturing time muft bring to light,
While he like heaven does each day's labour bleſs,
141.
Heaven ended not the firſt or ſecond day,
Yet each was perfect to the work defign'd:
God and kings work, when they their work furvey,
A paffive aptneſs in all fubjects find.
142.
In burden'd veffels firft with fpeedy care,
His pienteous ftores do ſeafon'd timber ſend:
Thither the brawny carpenters repair,
And as the furgeons of maim'd fhips attend.
143.
With cord and canvaſs from rich Hamburgh fent,
His navies molted wings he imps once more:
Tall Norway fir, their mafts in battle, ſpent,
And Engliſh oak, fprung leaks and planks, reftore.
144.
All hands employ'd the royal work grows warm :
Like labouring bees on a long fummer's day,
Some found the trumpet for the reft to ſwarm,
And ſome on bells of tafted lillies play.
145.
With glewy wax fome new foundations lay
Of virgin.combs which from the roof are hung :
Some arm'd within doors upon duty ſtay,
Or tend the fick, or educate the young.
146. So
74
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
146.
So here fome pick out bullets from the fides,
Some drive old okum through each ſeam and rift:
Their left hand does the calking iron guide,
The rattling mallet with the right they lift.
·147.
With boiling pitch another near at hand,
From friendly Sweden brought, the feams in-ftops:
Which well paid o'er, the falt fea waves withſtand,
And ſhakes them from the rifing beak in drops.
148.
Some the gall'd ropes with dawby marline bind,
Or fear-cloth mafts with ftrong tarpawling coats:
To try new fhrouds one mounts into the wind,
And one below their eafe or ftiffness notes.
149.
Our careful monarch ftands in perfon by,
His new-caft cannons firmnels to explore:
The ftrength of big-corn'd powder loves to try,
And ball and cartridge forts for every bore.
150.
Each day brings fresh fupplies of arms and men,
And fhips which all laft winter were abroad;
And fuch as fitted fince the fight had been,
Or new from flocks, were fallen into the road.
151.
The goodly London in her gallant trim,
The Phoenix, daughter of the vaniſh'd old,
Like a rich bride does to the ocean fwim,
And on her fhadow rides in Aoating gold.
152.
Her flag aloft fpread ruffling to the wind,
And fanguine freamers feem the flood to fire:
The weaver charm'd with what his loom defign'd,
Goes on to fea, and knows not to retire.
153. With
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
75
153.
With roomy decks, her guns of mighty ftrength,
Whoſe low-laid mouths each mounting billow laves:
Deep in her draught, and warlike in her length,
She feems a fea-wafp flying on the waves.
154.
This martial prefent, piouſly deſign'd,
The loyal city give their beſt-lov'd King:
And with a bounty ample as the wind,
Built, fitted and maintain'd, to aid him bring.
155.
By viewing nature, nature's handmaid, art
Makes mighty things from fmall beginnings grow:
Thus fishes firſt to ſhipping did impart,
Their tail the rudder, and their head the prow.
156.
Some log perhaps upon the waters fwam,
An uſeleſs drift, which rudely cut within,
And hollow'd firft a floating trough became,
And croſs ſome rivulet paffage did begin.
157.
In fhipping fuch as this, the Irish kern,
And untaught Indian on the ftream did glide:
Ere fharp-keel'd boats to ſtem the flood did learn,
Or fin-like oars did ſpread from either fide.
158.
Add but a fail, and Saturn fo appear'd,
When from loft empire he to exile went,
And with the golden age to Tyber fteer'd,
Where coin and commerce firft he did invent.
159.
Rude as their fhips was navigation then ;
No uſeful compafs or meridian known;
Coafting, they kept the land within their ken,
And knew no North but when the Pole-ftar fhone.
160. Of
76
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
160.
Of all who fince have us'd the open fea,
Than the bold English none more fame have won :
Beyond the year, and out of heaven's high way,
They make diſcoveries where they fee no fun.
161.
But what ſo long in vain, and yet unknown,
By poor mankind's benighted wit is fought,
Shall in this age to Britain firſt be ſhown,
And hence be to admiring nations taught.
162.
The ebbs of tides and their myfterious flow,
We, as arts elements, fhall underſtand,
And as by line upon the ocean go,
Whofe paths fhall be familiar as the land.
163.
Inftructed ſhips ſhall fail to quick commerce,
By which remoteft regions are ally'd;
Which makes one city of the univerſe;
Where fome may gain, and all may be ſupply'd.
164.
Then we upon our globe's laſt verge ſhall go,
And view the ocean leaning on the ſky:
From thence our rolling neighbours we fhall know,
And on the lunar world fecurely pry.
165.
This 1 foretel from your aufpicious care,
Who great in fearch of God and nature grow;
Who best your wife creator's praiſe declare,
Since beft to praiſe his works is beſt to know.
166.
O truly royal! who behold the law
And rule of beings in your maker's mind:
And thence, like limbecs, rich ideas draw,
To fit the levell'd ufe of human-kind.
167. But
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
77
167.
But firft the toils of war we must endure,
And from the injurious Dutch redeem the feas.
War makes the valiant of his right ſecure,
And gives up fraud to be chaſtis'd with eaſe.
· 168.
Already were the Belgians on our coaft,
Whoſe fleet more mighty every day became
late fuccefs, which they did falfly boaſt,
And now by firft appearing feem'd to claim.
169.
By
Deſigning, fubtle, diligent and clofe,
They knew to manage war with wiſe delay :
Yet all thoſe arts their vanity did croſs,
And by their pride their prudence did betray.
170.
Nor ftaid the English long; but well ſupply'd,
Appear as numerous as the infulting foe :
The combat now by courage muſt be try'd,
And the fuccefs the braver nation fhow.
171.
There was the Plymouth fquadron now come in,
Which in the Straights laft winter was abroad;
Which twice on Bifcay's working bay had been,
And on the midland fea the French had aw'd.
172.
Old expert Allen 9, loyal all along,
Fam'd for his action on the Smyrna fleet:
And Holmes, whoſe name fhall live in epic fong,
While mufic numbers, or while verfe has feet.
9 Sir Thomas Allen Admiral of the white.
173. Holmes
78
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
173.
Holmes, the Achates of the general's fight;
Who first bewitch'd our eyes with Guinea gold i
As once old Cato in the Roman fight
The tempting fruits of Afric did unfold.
174.
With him went Spragge 2, as bountiful as brave,
Whom his high courage to command had brought :
Harman, who did the twice-fir'd Harry fave,
And in his burning fhip undaunted fought.
175.
Young 3 Hollis on a mufe by Mars begot,
Born, Cæfar like, to write and act great deeds :
Impatient to revenge his fatal fhot,
His right hand doubly to his left fucceeds.
176.
Thouſands were there in darker fame that dwell,
Whoſe deeds fome nobler poem fhall adorn :
And though to me unknown, they fure fought well,
Whom Rupert led, and who were British born.
177.
Of every fize an hundred fighting fail:
So vaft the navy now at anchor rides,
That underneath it the prefs'd waters fail,
And with its weight it fhoulders off the tides.
178. Now
I Holmes the Achates of the, &c. Sir Robert Holmes was rear-ad-
miral of the white, called the Achates from his eagerness to ſupport
the general. Achates was the faithful companion of Eneas. For
an illuſtration of the two laft lines of this ſtanza, ſee our notes to the
Satire on the Dutch.
2 With him went Spragge, &c. Sir Edward Spragge ferved under
Sir Jeremiah Smith, who carried the blue flag: he was drowned paf-
fing from one fhip to another, in a fight with Van Tromp, on the
eleventh of Auguft, 1672, bearing the character of a gallant officer,
and an accomplished gentleman.
3 Captain Hollis, of the Antelope fhip of war, loft a hand in this
memorable fight to his writings I confefs myfelf a ftranger. I he-
love
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
178.
Now anchors weigh'd the feamen fhout fo fhrill,
That heaven and earth and the wide ocean rings:
A breeze from weftward waits their fails to fill,
And refts in thofe high beds his downy wings.
179.
The wary Dutch this gathering ftorm forefaw,
And durft not bide it on the English coaft:
Behind their treacherous fhallows they withdraw,
And there lay fnares to catch the Britiſh hoft.
180.
So the falfe fpider, when her nets are spread,
Deep ambuſh'd in her filent den does lie:
And feels far off the trembling of her thread,
Whoſe filmy cord fhould bind the ftruggling fly.
181.
Then if at laft fhe find him faft befet,
She iffues forth and runs along her loom:
She joys to touch the captive in her net,
And drag the little wretch in triumph home.
182.
The Belgians hop'd, that with diforder'd haſte,
Our deep-cut keels upon the fands might run :
Or if with caution leifurely were paſt,
Their numerous grofs might charge us one by one.
183.
But with a fore-wind pushing them above,
And ſwelling tide that heav'd them from below,
O'er the blind flats our warlike fquadrons move,
And with ſpread fails to welcome battle go.
184.
It ſeem'd as there the British Neptune ftood,
With all his hofts of waters at command,
Beneath them to fubmit the officious flood;
And with his trident fhov'd them off the fand.
lieve it is the fame perfon who commanded the Cambridge under the
name of Sir Fretchville Hollis, in 1672, when he was killed in ano-
ther fea-fight with the Dutch.
185. To
80
ANNUS MIRABILÍS:
185.
To the pale foes they fuddenly draw near,
And fummon them to unexpected fight:
They start like murderers when ghofts appear,
And draw their curtains in the dead of night.
186.
Now van to van the foremoſt ſquadrons meet,
The midmoft battles haft'ning up behind :
Who view far off the ftorm of falling fleet,
And hear their thunder rattling in the wind.
187.
At length the adverſe admirals appear;
The two bold champions of each country's right a
Their eyes defcribe the lifts as they come near,
And draw the lines of death before they fight.
188.
The diftance judg'd for fhot of every fize,
The linftocs touch, the ponderous ball expires:
The vigorous feaman every port-hole plies,
And adds his heart to every gun he fires!
189.
Fierce was the fight on the proud Belgians fide,
For honour, which they ſeldom fought before :
But now they by their own vain boafts were ty'd,
And forc'd at leaſt in fhew to prize it more.
190.
But ſharp remembrance on the Engliſh part,
And ſhame of being match'd by fuch a foe,
Rouze conſcious virtue up in every heart,
And ſeeming to be ſtronger makes them fo.
191.
Nor long the Belgians could that fleet fuftain,
Which did two generals fates, and Cæfar's bear:
Each ſeveral ſhip a victory did gain,
As Rupert or as Albemarle were there.
192. Their
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
81
192.
Their batter'd admiral too ſoon withdrew,
Unthank'd by ours for his unfiniſh'd fight,
But he the minds of his Dutch maſters knew,
Who call'd that providence which we call'd fight.
193.
Never did men more joyfully obey,
Or fooner underflood the fign to fly :
With fuch alacrity they bore away,
As if to praise them, all the ftates food by.
194.
O famous leader of the Belgian fleet,
Thy monument inſcrib'd fuch praiſe ſhall wear,
As Varro timely flying once did meet,
Becauſe he did not of his Rome deſpair,
195.
Behold that navy, which a while before,
Provok'd the tardy English clofe to fight:
Now draw their beaten veffels cloſe to ſhore,
As larks lie dar'd to fhun the hobbies flight.
196.
Whoe'er would English monuments furvey,
In other records may our courage know :
But let them hide the ſtory of this day,
Whoſe fame was blemiſh'd by too baſe a foe.
197.
Or if too bufily they will enquire
Into a victory, which we diſdain
Then let them know the Belgians did retire
Before the patron faint of injur'd Spain.
198.
Repenting England this revengeful day
To Philip's manes did an offering bring :
England, which first by leading them aftray,
Hatch'd up rebellion to deftroy her King,
VOL. I.
G
199. Our
Sz
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
199.
Our fathers bent their baneful induſtry,
To check a monarchy that flowly grew;
But did not France or Holland's fate foreſee,
Whole rifing power to fwift dominion flew.
2CO.
In fortune's empire blindly thus we go,
And wander after pathlefs deftiny;
Whofe dark reforts fince prudence cannot know,
In vain it would provide for what fhall be.
201.
But whate'er Engliſh to the blefs'd ſhall go,
And the fourth Harry or firft Orange meet;
Find him difowning of a Bourbon foe,
And him detefting a Batavian fleet.
202.
Now on their coafts our conquering navy rides,
Waylays their merchants, and their land befets;
Each day new wealth without their care provides;
They lie afleep with prizes in their nets.
203.
So cloſe behind fome promontory lie
The huge leviathans to attend their prey;
And give no chace, but ſwallow in the frie,
Which through their gaping jaws miftake the way.
204.
Nor was this all: in ports and roads remote,
Destructive fires among whole fleets we fend;
Triumphant flames upon the water float,
And out bound fhips at home their voyage end,
205.
Thofe various fquadrons variously defign'd,
Each veffel freighted with a feveral load,
Each fquadron waiting for a feveral wind,
All find but one, to burn them in the road.
206. Some
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
83
206.
Some bound for Guiney golden fand to find,
Bore all the gauds the fimple natives wear:
Some for the pride of Turkish courts defign'd,
For folded turbants fineft Holland bear.
207.
Some English wooll vex'd in a Belgian loom,
And into cloth of ſpungy foftneſs made,
Did into France or colder Denmark doom,
To ruin with worfe ware our ftaple trade.
208.
Our greedy feamen rummage every hold,
Smile on the booty of each wealthier cheft;
And as the prieſts who with their Gods make bold,
Take what they like, and facrifice the reſt.
209.
But ah! how infincere are all our joys!
Which fent from heaven, like lightning make no ftay:
Their palling tafte the journey's length deftroys,
Or grief fent poft o'ertakes them on the way.
210.
Swell'd with our late fucceffes on the foe,
Which France and Holland wanted power to croſs,
We urge an unſeen fate to lay us low,
And feed their envious eyes with Engliſh lofs.
21I.
Each element his dread command obeys,
Who makes or ruins with a fmile or frown;
Who, as by one he did our nation raiſe,
So now he with another pulls us down.
212.
Yet London, emprefs of the northern clime,
By an high fate thou greatly didit expire;
Great as the world's, which, at the death of time
Muſt fall, and rife a nobler frame by fire,
G 2
213. As
$4.
ANNUS MIRABILIS
213.
As when fome dire ufurper heaven provides,
To fcourge his country with a lawleſs fway;
His birth perhaps fome petty village hides,
And fets his cradle out of fortune's way.
2.14.
Till fully ripe his fwelling fate breaks out,
And hurries him to mighty miſchiefs on:
His prince furpriz'd at firft no ill could doubt,
And wants the pow'r to meet it when 'tis known.
21.5.
Such was the rife of this prodigious fire,
Which in mean buildings firft obfcurely bred,
From thence did foon to open fireets aſpire,
And ftraight to palaces and temples fpread.
216.
The diligence of trades and noifeful gain,
And luxury more late, afleep were laid:
All was the night's; and in her filent reign.
No found the reft of nature did invade.
217.
In this deep quiet from what fource unknown,
Thoſe feeds of fire their fatal birth diſcloſe ;
And first few ſcattering ſparks about were blown,
Big with the flames that to our ruin rofe.
218.
Then in fome clofe-pent room it crept along,
And fmouldering as it went, in filence fed;
Till th' infant monfter, with devouring ftrong,
Walk'd boldly upright with exalted head.
219.
Now like fome rich or mighty murderer,
Too great for prifon, which he breaks with gold;
Who fresher for new mifchiefs does appear,
And dares the world to tax him with the old :
220. So
'
85
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
2.20.
So fcapes th' infulting fire his narrow jail,
And makes fmall outlets into open air:
There the fierce winds his tender force affail,
And beat him downward to his firſt repair.
221.
The winds like crafty courtezans with-held
His flames from burning, but to blow them more:
And every freſh attempt he is repell'd
With faint denials weaker than before.
222.
And now no longer letted of his prey,
He leaps up at it with enrag'd defire:
O'erlooks the neighbours with a wide furvey,
And nods at every houfe his threatning fire.
223.
The ghofts of traitors from the bridge defcend,
With bold fanatic ſpectres to rejoice :
About the fire into a dance they bend,
And fing their fabbath notes with feeble voice.
224.
Our guardian angel faw them where they fate
Above the palace of our flumbering King:
He figh'd, abandoning his charge to fate,
And drooping, oft look'd back upon the wing.
225.
At length the crackling noife and dreadful blaze
Call'd up fome waking lover to the fight;
And long it was ere he the reft could raiſe,
Whofe heavy eyelids yet were full of night.
226.
The next to danger, hot purfu'd by fate,
Half-cloth'd, half-naked, haftily retire:
And frighted mothers ftrike their breaſts too late,
For helplefs infants left amidſt the fire.
G 3
227. Their
86
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
227.
Their cries foon waken all the dwellers near;
Now murmuring noifes rife in every ftreet:
The more remote run ftumbling with their fear,
And in the dark men juitle as they meet.
238.
So weary bees in little cells repofe;
But if night-robbers lift the well-ftor'd hive,
An humming through their waxen city grows,
And out upon each other's wings they drive.
229.
Now ftreets grow throng'd and bufy as by day:
Some run for buckets to the hallow'd quire
Some cut the pipes, and fome the engines play ;
And fome more bold mount ladders to the fire.
230.
In vain: for from the Eaft a Belgian wind
His hoſtile breath through the dry rafters fent;
The flames impell'd foon left their foes behind,
And forward with a wanton fury went.
231.
A key of fire ran all along the fhore,
And lighten'd all the river with a blaze:
The waken'd tides began again to roar,
And wondering fish in fhining waters gaze.
232.
Old father Thames rais'd up his reverend head,
But fear'd the fate of Simois would return:
Deep in his ooze he fought his fedgy bed,
And fhrunk his waters back into his urn.
233.
The fire, mean-time, walks in a broader grofs;
To either hand his wings he opens wide:
He wades the ftreets, and ftraight he reaches crofs,
And plays his longing flames on th' other fide.
234. A:
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
87
234.
At first they warm, then ſcorch, and then they take;
Now with long necks from fide to fide they feed:
At length grown ftrong their mother-fire forfake,
And a new colony of flames fucceed.
235.
To every nobler portion of the town
The curling billows roll their reſtleſs tide :
In parties now they ftraggle up and down,
As armies unoppos'd for prey divide.
236.
One mighty fquadron with a fide-wind fped,
Through narrow lanes his cumber'd fire does hafte,
By powerful charms of gold and filver led,
The Lombard bankers and the Change to waſte.
237.
Another backward to the tower would go,
And flowly eats his way against the wind:
But the main body of the marching foe
Against th' imperial palace is deſign'd.
238.
Now day appears, and with the day the king,
Whofe early care had robb'd him of his reit:
Far off the cracks of falling houſes ring,
Aid fhrieks of fubjects pierce his tender breaſt.
239.
Near as he draws, thick harbingers of fmoke.
With gloomy pillars cover all the place;
Whoe little intervals of night are broke
By fparks, that drive againſt his facred face.
240.
More than his guards his forrows made him known,
And pious tears which down his cheeks did show'r :
The wretched in his grief forgot their own;
So much the pity of a King has pow'r.
G 4
241. He
88
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
241.
He wept the flames of what he lov'd fo well,
And what fo well had merited his love :
For never prince in grace did more excel,
Or royal city more in duty ftrove.
242.
Nor with an idle care did he behold:
Subjects may grieve, but monarchs muft redrefs;
He chears the fearful and commends the bold,
And makes deſpairers hope for good ſucceſs.
243.
Himself directs what firft is to be done,
And orders all the fuccours which they bring:
The helpful and the good about him run,
And form an army worthy fuch a King.
244.
He fees the dire contagion fpread fo faft,
That where it feizes all relief is vain:
And therefore muft unwillingly lay wafte
That country, which would elfe the foe maintain,
245.
The powder blows up all before the fire:
Th' amazed flames ftand gather'd on a heap;
And from the precipice's brink retire,
Afraid to venture on fo large a leap.
246.
Thus fighting fires a while themſelves confume,
But ftraight like Turks forc'd on to win or die,
They firft lay tender bridges of their fume,
And o'er the breach in unctuous vapours fly,
247.
Part ftay for paffage, 'till a gust of wind
Ships o'er their forces in a thining fheet:
Part creeping under ground their journey blind,
And climbing from below their fellows meet.
248. Thus
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
89
248.
Thus to fome defert plain, or old wood-fide,
Dire night-hags come from far to dance their round;
And o'er broad rivers on their fiends they ride,
Or fweep in clouds above the blafted ground.
249.
way :
No help avails: for hydra-like, the fire
Lifts up his hundred heads to aim his
And ſcarce the wealthy can one half retire,
Before he rushes in to ſhare the prey.
250.
The rich grow fuppliant, and the poor grow proud :
Thofe offer mighty gain, and theſe aſk more:
So void of pity is th' ignoble crowd,
When others ruin may increaſe their ſtore.
251.
As thoſe who live by fhores with joy behold
Some wealthy veffel ſplit or ftranded nigh;
And from the rocks leap down for fhipwreck'd gold,
And feek the tempefts which the others fly:
252.
So theſe but wait the owners laſt deſpair,
And what's permitted to the flames invade;
Ev'n from their jaws they hungry morfels tear,
And on their backs the ſpoils of Vulcan lade.
253.
The days were all in this loft labour ſpent ;
And when the weary king gave place to night,
His beams he to his royal brother lent,
And ſo fhone ſtill in his reflective light.
254.
Night came, but without darkneſs or repoſe,
A difmal picture of the general doom;
Where fouls diſtracted when the trumpet blows,
And half unready with their bodies come.
255. Thofe
go
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
255.
Thoſe who have homes, when home they do repair,
To a laft lodging call their wandering friends:
Their fhort uneafy fleeps are broke with care,
To look how near their own deftruction tends.
256.
Thoſe who have none, fit round where once it was,
And with full eyes each wonted room require:
Haunting the yet warm afhes of the place,
As murder'd men walk where they did expire.
257.
Some ftir up coals and watch the veftal fire,
Others in vain from fight of ruin run;
And while through burning lab'rinths they retire,
With loathing eyes repeat what they would fhun.
258.
The most in fields like herded beafts lie down,
To dews obnoxious on the graffy floor;
And while their babes in fleep their forrows drown,
Sad parents watch the remnants of their ftore.
259.
While by the motion of the flames they gueſs
What ftreets are burning now, and what are near,
An infant waking to the paps would prefs,
And meets, inftead of milk, a falling tear.
260.
No thought can eaſe them but their fovereign's care,
Whofe praife th' afflicted as their comfort fing:
E'en thofe, whom want might drive to juſt deſpair,
Think life a bleffing under fuch a King.
261.
Mean time he fadly fuffers in their grief,
Out-weeps an hermit, and out-prays a faint:
All the long night he ftudies their relief,
How they may be fupply'd, and he may want.
262, O
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
91
262.
O God faid he, thou patron of my days,
Guide of my youth in exile and diſtreſs!
Who me unfriended brought'it by wond'rous ways,
The kingdom of my fathers to poffefs:
263.
Be thou my judge, with what unwearied care
I fince have labour'd for my people's good;
To bind the bruifes of a civil war,
And ſtop the iffues of their wafting blood.
264.
Thou who haft taught me to forgive the ill,
And recompenfe as friends, the good mifled;
If mercy be a precept of thy will,
Return that mercy on thy fervant's head.
265.
Or if my heedlefs youth has ftep'd aftray,
Too foon forgetful of thy gracious hand;
On me alone thy juft difpleafure lay,
But take thy judgments from this mourning land.
266.
We all have finn'd, and thou haft laid us low,
As humble earth from whence at firft we came :
Like flying fhades before the clouds we fhew,
And fhrink like parchment in confuming flame.
267.
O let it be enough what thou haft done;
When ſpotted deaths ran arm'd through every street,
With poifon'd darts which not the good could fhun,
The ſpeedy could out-fly, or valiant meet.
268.
The living few, and frequent funerals then,
Proclaim'd thy wrath on this forfaken place:
And now thofe few who are return'd agen,
Thy fearching judgments to their dwellings trace.
269. O
92
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
.
1
269.
O pafs not, Lord, an abfolute decree,
Or bind thy fentence unconditional :
But in thy fentence our remorſe foreſee,
And in that forefight this thy doom recal.
270.
Thy threatnings, Lord, as thine thou may'ſt revoke:
But if immutable and fix'd they ſtand,
Continue ftill thyfelf to give the ſtroke,
And let not foreign foes opprefs thy land.
271.
Th' Eternal heard, and from the heavenly quire.
Chofe out the cherub with the flaming fword;
And bade him fwiftly drive th' approaching fire
From where our naval magazines were ftor'd.
272.
The bleffed minifter his wings diſplay'd,
And like a ſhooting ſtar he cleft the night:
He charg'd the flames, and thofe that diſobey'd
He laſh'd to duty with his fword of light.
273.
The fugitive flames chaftis'd went forth to prey
On pious ftructures, by our fathers rear'd;
By which to heaven they did affect the way,
Ere faith in churchmen without works was heard.
274.
The wanting orphans faw with watery eyes,
Their founders charity in duft laid low;
And fent to God their ever-anfwer'd cries,
For he protects the poor, who made them fo.
275.
Nor could thy fabric, Paul's, defend thee long,
Tho' thou wert facred to thy Maker's praiſe:
Though made immortal by a poet's fong;
And poets fongs the Theban walls could raife.
276. The
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
93
276.
The daring flames peep'd in, and faw from far
The awful beauties of the facred quire :
But fince it was prophan'd by civil war,
Heaven thought it fit to have it purg'd by fire.
277.
Now down the narrow streets it fwiftly came,
And widely opening did on both ſides prey:
This benefit we fadly owe the flame,
If only ruin muft enlarge our way.
278.
And now four days the fun had feen our woes :
Four nights the moon beheld th' inceffant fire ::
It feem'd as if the stars more fickly rofe,
And farther from the feverish north retire.
279.
In th' empyrean heaven, the blefs'd abode,
The thrones and the dominions proftrate lie,
Not daring to behold their angry God;
And an hush'd filence damps the tuneful fky.
280.
At length th' Almighty caft a pitying eye,
And mercy foftly touch'd his melting breaft:
He ſaw the town's one half in rubbiſh lie,
And eager flames drive on to storm the reft.
281.
An hollow cryſtal pyramid he takes,
In firmamental waters dipt above;
Of it a broad extinguisher he makes,
And hoods the flames that to their quarry drove.
282.
The vanquish'd fires withdraw from every place,
Or full with feeding fink into a ſleep:
Each houfhold genius fhews again his face,
And from the hearths the little lares creep.
283. Our
94
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
283.
Our King this more than natural change beholds;
With fober joy his heart and eyes abound:
To the All-good his lifted hands he folds,
And thanks him low on his redeemed ground.
284.
As when ſharp frofts had long conſtrain'd the earth,
A kindly thaw unlocks it with cold rain;
And firft the tender blade peeps up to birth,
And ſtraight the green fields laugh with promis'd grain :
285.
By fuch degrees the fpreading gladnefs grew
In every heart which fear had froze before:
The ſtanding ſtreets with fo much joy they view,
That with lefs grief the perish'd they deplore.
286.
The father of the people open'd wide
His ftores, and all the poor with plenty fed:
Thus God's anointed God's own place fupply'd,
And fill'd the empty with his daily bread,
287.
This royal bounty brought its own reward,
And in their minds fo deep did print the fenfe;
That if their ruins fadly they regard,
:
'Tis but with fear the fight might drive him thence.
288.
But fo may he live long, that town to fway,
Which by his aufpice they will nobler make,
As he will hatch their afhes by his ſtay,
-And not their humble ruins now forfake.
289.
They have not loft their loyalty by fire;
Nor is their courage or their wealth fo low.
That from his wars they poorly would retire,
Or beg the pity of a vanquifh'd foe.
4
290. Not
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
95
290.
Not with more conftancy the Jews, of old
By Cyrus from rewarded exile fent,
Their royal city did in duft behold,
Or with more vigour to rebuild it went.
291.
The utmoſt malice of the ftars is paft,
And two dire comets, which have fcourg'd the town,
In their own plague and fire have breath'd the laft,
Or dimly in their finking fockets frown.
292.
Now frequent trines the happier lights among,
And high-rais'd Jove, from his dark prifon freed,
Thoſe weights took off that on his planet hung,
Will gloriously the new-laid works fucceed.
293.
Methinks already from this chymic flame,
I ſee a city of more precious mold:
Rich as the town which gives the Indies name,
With filver-pav'd, and all divine with gold.
294.
Already labouring with a mighty fate,
She thakes the rubbish from her mounting brow,
And feems to have renew'd her charter's date,
Which heaven will to the death of time allow.
295.
More great than human now, and more auguſt,
Now deified fhe from her fires does rife:
Her widening ſtreets on new foundations truft,
And opening into larger parts fhe flies.
296.
Before the like fome fhepherdeſs did ſhow,
Who fat to bathe her by a river's fide;
Not answering to her fame, but rude and low,
Nor taught the beauteous arts of modern pride.
{
297. Now
96
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
297.
Now like a maiden queen the will behold,
From her high turrets, hourly fuitors come:
The Eaft with incenfe, and the Weft with gold,
Will ftand like fuppliants to receive her doom,
298.
The filver Thames, her own domeftic flood,
Shall bear her veffels like a ſweeping train ;
And often wind, as of his mistress proud,
With longing eyes to meet her face again.
299.
The wealthy Tagus, and the wealthier Rhine,
The glory of their towns no more ſhall boaſt,
And Seyne, that would with Belgian rivers join,
Shall find her luftre ftain'd, and traffic loft.
300.
The venturous merchant who defign'd more far,
And touches on our hofpitable ſhore,
Charm'd with the fplendour of this northern ftar,
Shall here unlade him, and depart no more.
301.
Our powerful navy fhall no longer meet,
The wealth of France or Holland to invade:
The beauty of this town without a fleet,
From all the world fhall vindicate her trade.
302.
And while this fam'd emporium we prepare,
The British ocean fhall fuch triumphs boaft,
That thofe, who now difdain our trade to ſhare,
Shall rob like pirates on our wealthy coaft.
303.
Already we have conquer'd half the war,
And the lefs dangerous part is left behind:
Our trouble now is but to make them dare,
And not fo great to vanquish as to find.
304. Thus
ESSAY upon SATIRE.
97
304.
Thus to the eaſtern wealth through ſtorms we go,
But now, the Cape once doubled, fear no more;
A conftant trade-wind will fecurely blow,
And gently lay us on the fpicy fhore.
An ESSAY upon SATIRE.
By Mr. DRYDEN, and the Earl of MULGRAVE.
1679.
OW dull, and how infenfible a beaft
Hi
Is man, who yet would lord it o'er the reft?
Philofophers and poets vainly ftrove
In every age the lumpish mafs to move:
But thoſe were pedants, when compar'd with theſe,
Who know not only to inftruct but pleafe.
Poets alone found the delightful way,
Myfterious morals gently to convey
In charming numbers; fo that as men grew
Pleas'd with their poems; they grew wifer too.
Satire has always fhone among the reſt,
And is the boldeſt way, if not the beft,
To tell men freely of their fouleft faults;
To laugh at their vain deeds, and vainer thoughts.
In fatire too the wife took different ways,
To each deferving its peculiar praiſe.
Some did all folly with juft fharpnefs blame,
Whilft others laugh'd and ſcorn'd them into ſhame.
But of thefe two, the laft fucceeded beft,
As men aim righteft when they fhoot in jeft.
Yet, if we may prefume to blame our guides,
And cenfure thofe, who cenfure all befides;
VOL. I.
H
In
98
ESSAY upon SATIRE.
In other things they juftly are preferr'd;
In this alone methinks the ancients err'd;
Against the groffeft follies they declaim;
Hard they purſue, but hunt ignoble game.
Nothing is eaſier than fuch blots to hit,
And 'tis the talent of each vulgar wit:
Befides 'tis labour loft;
Morals to Armstrong 1,
for who would preach
or dull Afton teach?
'Tis being devout at play, wife at a ball,
Or bringing wit and friendship to Whitehall,
But with fharp eyes thofe nicer faults to find,
Which lie obſcurely in the wifeft mind;
That little fpeck which all the reft does ſpoil,
To wash off that would be a noble toil;
Beyond the looſe writ libels of this age,
Or the forc'd ſcenes of our declining ſtage;
Above all cenfure too, each little wit
Will be fo glad to fee the greater hit;
Who judging better, though concern'd the moſt,
Of fuch correction will have caufe to boast.
In fuch a fatire all would feek a fhare,
And every fool will fancy he is there.
Old ftory-tellers too muft pine and die,
To fee their antiquated wit laid by;
Like her, who mifs'd her name in a lampoon,
And grieved to find herſelf decay'd ſo ſoon.
I Sir Thomas Armſtrong had been knighted by king Charles II.
for fome fervices received from him during the protectorship, he
having been fent over to his majeſty, when in Holland, with a fum
of money, raiſed among fome of his faithful fubjects, for his royal
ufe. He afterwards bore a lieutenant-colonel's commiffion in the
first troop of horſe-guards, and was appointed gentleman of horſe to
the King. Being a man of a loofe immoral character; and of no fixed
principles, either in religion or politics, he joined in the Ryehouſe-
Plot, and then efcaped into Holland. He was at length feized at
Leyden, brought over to England, and condemned to die by judge
Jefferies, who treated him in a very unbecoming manner,
hanged at Tyburn on the twentieth of June, 1684.
He was
Ne
ESSAY upon SATIR E.
99
No common coxcomb must be mention'd here:
Not the dull train of dancing ſparks appear;
Nor Auttering officers who never fight;
Of fuch a wretched rabble who would write?
Much lefs half wits: that's more againſt our rules;
For they are fops, the other are but fools.
Who would not be as filly as Dunbar ?
As dull as Monmouth, rather than Sir Carr 2?
The cunning courtier fhould be flighted too,
Who with dull knavery makes ſo much ado;
Till the fhrewd fool, by thriving too too faſt,
Like Eſop's fox becomes a prey at laſt.
Nor fhall the royal miftreffes be nam'd,
Too ugly, or too eafy to be blam'd;
With whom each rhiming fool keeps fuch a pother,
They are as common that way as the other:
Yet fauntering Charles between his beaſtly brace,
Meets with diffembling ftill in either place,
Affected humour, or a painted face.
In loyal libels we have often told him,
How one has jilted him, the other fold him:
How that affects to laugh, how this to weep;
But who can rail ſo long as he can fleep?
Was ever prince by two at once miſled,
Falfe, fooliſh, old, ill-natur'd, and ill-bred?
Earnely 3 and Aileſbury, with all that race
Of bufy blockheads, fhall have here no place;
}
At
2 Sir Carr Scrope was the fon of Sir Adrian Scrope, a Lincolnſhire
knight, and bred at Oxford, where he took a master's degree in
1664; and in 1666 he was created a baronet. He was intimate with
the most celebrated geniuſes of king Charles's court, and had a pretty
turn for poetry. He died at his houſe in Weſtminſter, in the latter
end of the year 1680.
3 Sir John Earnely was bred to the law: he was chancellor of the
exchequer in the year 1686, and made one of the lords commiffioners
of the treaſury, in the room of the lord-treaſurer Hyde, earl of Ro-
chefter. Robert, the first earl of Ailebury, was the ſon of Thomas
Bruce, earl of Elgin in Scotland, and created by king Charles lord
H 2
Bruce
100
ESSAY upon SATIRE.
At council fet as foils on 4 Danby's ſcore,
To make that great falfe jewel fhine the more;
Who all that while was thought exceeding wife,
Only for taking pains and telling lies.
But there's no meddling with fuch naufeous men ;
Their very names have tired my lazy pen :
'Tis time to quit their company, and chufe
Some fitter fubject for a fharper mufe.
5 First, let's behold the merrieſt man alive
Againſt his carelefs genius vainly ſtrive;
Quit his dear eafe, fome deep defign to lay,
'Gainſt a fet time, and then forget the day :
Yet he will laugh at his beſt friends, and be
Juft as good company as 6 Nokes and Lee.
But when he aims at reafon or at rule,
He turns himfelf the beft to ridicule.
Let him at buſineſs ne'er fo earneft fit,
Shew him but mirth, and bait that mirth with wit;
That ſhadow of a jeft ſhall be enjoy'd,
Though he left all mankind to be deſtroy'd.
So cat transform'd fat gravely and demure,
Till mouſe appear'd, and thought himſelf ſecure;
But foon the lady had him in her eye,
And from her friend did juft as oddly fly.
Bruce in England. In 1685 he fucceeded the earl of Arlington as
Jord-chamberlain of the king's houfhold, and died a few months
afterwards.
4 Thomas, earl of Danby, anceſtor to the preſent duke of Leeds,
came out of Yorkſhire, and was very zealous in forwarding the
restoration; for which special fervice he was made treaſurer of the
navy, then a privy-counsellor, and in 1673, lord high-treaſurer of
England. He died in the year 1712, aged eighty-one.
5 Fift let's behold the merriest man alive. This character is
fo ftrongly and fo juftly marked, that it is impoffible to miftake its
being intended for Anthony Ashley Cooper, earl of Shaftesbury:
"A man of little fteadinefs, but fuch uncommon talents, that he
acquired great weight with every party he eſpouſed:
6
as Nokes and Lee. Two celebrated comedians in
Charles the IId's reign.
Reaching
ESSAY upon SATIRE.
ΙΟΙ
Reaching above our nature does no good;
We must fall back to our old flesh and blood;
As by our little Machiavel we find
That nimbleft creature of the buſy kind,
His limbs are crippled, and his body ſhakes;
Yet his hard mind which all this buftle makes,
No pity of its poor companion takes.
What gravity can hold from laughing out,
To fee him drag his feeble legs about,
Like hounds ill-coupled? Jowler lugs him ftill
Through hedges, ditches, and through all that's ill.
'Twere crime in any man but him alone,
To ufe a body fo, though 'tis one's own:
Yet this falfe comfort never gives him o'cr,
That whilst he creeps his vigorous thoughts can foar:
Alas! that foaring to thofe few that know,
Is but a buſy groveling here below.
So men in rapture think they mount the ſky,
Whilſt on the ground th' intranced wretches lie:
So modern fops have fancied they could fly.
As the new 7 earl with parts deferving praiſe,
And wit enough to laugh at his own ways;
Yet lofes all foft days and fenfual nights,
Kind nature checks, and kinder fortune flights;
Striving againſt his quiet all he can,
For the fine notion of a buſy man.
7 As the new earl with parts deferving praiſe,
And wit enough to laugh at his own ways,
}
Yet lofes all, &c. This character was well known to be drawn for
Arthur earl of Effex, fon to the lord Capel, who was put to death
by the regicides; but wherefore he ſhould be called the new earl, I
cannot fee, fince we find in Collins's peerage, that he was created
earl of Effex in the year 1661, eighteen years before the publication
of this piece. He was very fond of the lieutenancy of Ireland, which
he had held from July 1672, to 1677. He was taken into cuſtody
and committed to the Tower, for being concerned in the Ryehoufe-
Plot; and he was found in his apartment there, with his throat cut
from ear to ear, on the very morning of lord Ruffel's execution.
H 3
And
102
ESSAY upon SATIRE.
And what is that at beft, but one, whofe mind
Is made to tire himself and all mankind?
For Ireland he would go; faith, let him reign;
For if fome odd fantaſtic lord would fain
Carry in trunks, and all my drudgery do,
I'll not only pay him, but admire him too.
But is there any other beaft that lives,
Who his own harm fo wittingly contrives?
Will any dog that has his teeth and ſtones,
Refinedly leave his bitches and his bones,
To turn a wheel? and bark to be employ'd,
While Venus is by rival dogs enjoy'd?
Yet this fond man, to get a ſtateſman's name,
Forfeits his friends, his freedom, and his fame.
Tho' fatire nicely writ with humour ftings
But thoſe who merit praife in other things;
Yet we muſt needs this one exception make,
And break our rulcs for 8 filly Tropos' fake;
Who was too much deſpis'd to be accus'd,
And therefore fcarce deferves to be abus'd;
Rais'd only by his mercenary tongue,
For railing ſmoothly, and for reaſoning wrong.
As boys on holy-days let looſe to play,
Lay waggish traps for girls that pals that way;
Then fhout to fee in dirt and deep diftrefs
Some filly cit in flower'd fooliſh drefs:
So have I mighty fatisfaction found,
To fee his tinfel reafon on the ground:
To fee the florid fool defpis'd, and know it,
By fome who ſcarce have words enough to fhow it:
For fenfe fits filent, and condemns for weaker
The finer, nay fometimes the wittieft fpeaker:
8
'for filly Tropos fake, &c. Sir William Scroggs
is meant by Tropos. He was lord chief juſtice of the King's Bench,
and a violent profecutor of the perfons ſuppoſed to be concerned in the
Popish plot,
But
ESSAY upon SATIRE.
103
i+
But 'tis prodigious fo much eloquence
Should be acquired by fuch little fenfe;
For words and wit did anciently agree,
And Tully was no fool, though this man be:
At bar abufive, on the bench unable,
Knave on the woolfack, fop at council-table.
Theſe are the grievances of fuch fools as would
Be rather wife than honeft, great than good.
Some other kind of wits must be made known,
Whoſe harmleſs errors hurt themſelves alone;
Excess of luxury they think can pleaſe,
And laziness call loving of their eaſe:
To live diffolv'd in pleafures ftill they feign,
Tho' their whole life's but intermitting pain:
So much of furfeits, head-aches, claps are feen,
We ſcarce perceive the little time between:
Well-meaning men who make this grofs miſtake,
And pleaſure lofe only for pleafure's fake;
Each pleaſure has its price, and when we pay
Too much of pain, we fquander life away,
Thus Dorfet, purring like a thoughtful cat,
Married, but wifer pufs ne'er thought of that:
And first he worried her with railing rhime,
Like Pembroke's maftives at his kindeft time;
Then for one night fold all his flaviſh life,
A teeming widow, but a barren wife;
Swell'd by contact of fuch a fulfom toad,
He lugg'd about the matrimonial load;
Till fortune, blindly kind as well as he,
Has ill reftor'd him to his liberty;
Which he would ufe in his old fneaking way,
Drinking all night and dozing all the day;
Dull as 9 Ned Howard, whom his brifker times
Had fam'd for dullness in malicious rhimes.
9 Dull as Ned Howard, whom his brifker times,
Had fam'd for dullneſs in malicious rhymes.
H 4
Mulgrave
Edward
104 ESSAY upon SATIRE.
Mulgrave had much ado to 'fcape the fnare,
Though learn'd in all thoſe arts that cheat the fair:
For after all his vulgar marriage-mocks,
With beauty dazzled, Numps was in the ftocks;
Deluded parents dry'd their weeping eyes,
To fee him catch his tartar for his prize:
Th' impatient town waited the wifh'd-for change,
And cuckolds fmil'd in hopes of ſweet revenge;
Till Petworth plot made us with forrow fee,
As his eftate, his perfon too was free:
Him no foft thoughts, no gratitude could move;
To gold he fled from beauty and from love;
Yet failing there he keeps his freedom ſtill,
Forc'd to live happily against his will:
'Tis not his fault, if too much wealth and pow'r
Break not his boaſted quiet every hour.
1 And little Sid. for fimile renown'd,
Pleaſure has always fought but never found:
Though all his thoughts on wine and women fall,
His are fo bad, fure he ne'er thinks at all.
The flesh he lives upon is rank and ſtrong,
His meat and miftreffes are kept too long.
But fure we all miftake this pious man,
Who mortifies his perfon all he can:
Edward Howard, Efq; a gentleman of the Berkshire family, con-
fequently related to Sir Robert Howard. He wrote four plays, but
none of them fucceeded on the ſtage, nor procured him any reputa-
tion. He allo published an epic poem, called the British Princes, for
which he was feverely ridiculed by all the wits of his age: lord Ro-
chefter, lord Dorfet, Mr. Waller, the duke of Buckingham, Dr.
Spratt, lord Vaughan, publiſhed lampoons upon
1 And little Sid. for fimile renown'd,
Pleafure has always fought but never found.
it.
This Sidney, brother of Algernoon Sidney and the earl of Leicester,
was rather a man of pleaſure than of bufinefs; his talents were great,
but his indolence was greater; his appearance was graceful; he was
favourite with the ladies, had a turn for intrigue, and was of a
difpofition exactly fitted to Charles's court, eaſy, affable, and in-
finuating; free from any guile, and a friend to mankind.
What
ESSAY upon SATIRE.
105
What we uncharitably take for fin,
Are only rules of this odd capuchin;
For never hermit under grave pretence,
Has liv'd more contrary to common fenfe;
And 'tis a miracle we may ſuppoſe,
No naftiness offends his fkilful nofe;
Which from all ftink can with peculiar art
Extract perfume and effence from a f---t:
Expecting fupper is his great delight;
He toils all day but to be drunk at night:
Then o'er his cups this night-bird chirping fits,
Till he takes 2 Hewet and Jack Hall for wits.
Rocheſter I defpife for want of wit,
Though thought to have a tail and cloven feet;
For while he mifchief means to all mankind,
Himſelf alone the ill effects does find:
And fo like witches juftly fuffers fhame,
Whofe harmleſs malice is fo much the fame.
Falfe are his words, affected is his wit;
So often he does aim, ſo ſeldom hit;
To every face he cringes while he ſpeaks,
But when the back is turn'd the head he breaks:
Mean in each action, lewd in every limb,
Manners themſelves are mischievous in him:
A proof that chance alone makes every creature,
A very 3 Killigrew without good nature.
For
Sir George
2 Till he takes Hewet and Jack Hall for rits, &c.
Hewet, a man of quality, famous for gallantry, and often named in
the State Poems. Sir George Etherege intended for him the cele
brated character of Sir Fopling Flutter. Jack Hall, a courtier, whon
I take to be the fame with Uzza in the ſecond part of Abfalom and
Achitophel.
3 A very Killigrew without good nature. Thomas Killigrew,
of whom we hear daily fo many pleafant ftories related, was brother
to Sir William Killigrew, vice-chamberlain to King Charles the IId's
Queen; had been fome time page of honour to King Charles I. and
was, after the refloration, many years mafter of the revels, and groom
of
106
ESSAY upon SATIRE.
For what a 4 Beffus has he always liv'd,
And his own kickings notably contriv'd?
For, there's the folly that's ftill mixt with fear,
Cowards more blows than any hero bear;
Of fighting sparks fome may their pleaſures fay,
But 'tis a bolder thing to run away;
The world may well forgive him all his ill,
For every fault does prove his penance ftill:
Falfly he falls into fome dangerous noofe,
And then as meanly labours to get looſe;
A life fo infamous is better quitting,
Spent in bafe injury and low fubmitting.
I'd like to have left out his poetry;
Forgot by all almoſt as well as me.
Sometimes he has fome humour, never wit,
And if it rarely, very rarely, hit,
Tis under ſo much nafty rubbiſh laid,
To find it out's the cinderwoman's trade;
Who for the wretched remnants of a fire,
Muft toil all day in ashes and in mire.
So lewdly dull his idle works appear,
The wretched texts deferve no comments here;
Where one poor thought fometimes, left all alone,
For a whole page of dullneſs muſt atone.
How vain a thing is man, and how unwife?
E'en he, who would himſelf the moſt deſpiſe?
I, who fo wife and humble feem to be,
Now my own vanity and pride can't ſee.
of the chamber to King Charles II. in whofe exile he ſhared, being
his reſident at Venice in 1651; was a moſt facetious companion; his
wit was lively and fpirited; and he had a manner of faying the bit-
tereft things, without provoking refentment; he tickled you while
he made you ſmart, and you overlooked the pain, charmed by the
pleaſure. He died at Whitehall in March 1682, aged feventy-one.
4 For what a Beſjus has he always liv'd. Beffus is a remarkable
cowardly character in Beaumont and Fletcher's play of a King and
no King.
While
ESSAY upon SATIR E.
107
1
While the world's nonſenſe is ſo ſharply ſhewn,
We pull down others but to raiſe our own;
That we may angels feem, we paint them elves,
: And are but fatires to fet up ourſelves.
I, who have all this while been finding fault,
E'en with my mafter, who firſt ſatire taught;
And did by that deſcribe the taſk ſo hard,
It ſeems ftupendous and above reward;
Now labour with unequal force to climb
That lofty hill, unreach'd by former time:
'Tis just that I fhould to the bottom fall,'
Learn to write well, or not to write at all.
1
*
ABSALOM
CRANES OBANDO SIYN59 X 6PANÍOCHAD CHANTS
ABSALOM
AND
A CHITOPHE L.
PART I.
Si proprius ftes
Te capiet magis
* Sa
[ 1 ]
TO THE
REA DE R.
IT
:
T is not my intention to make an apology for my
poem fome will think it needs no excufe, and
others will receive none. The defign I am fure is
honeſt but he who draws his pen for one party,
muſt expect to make enemies of the other. For wit
and fool are confequents of Whig and Tory; and
every man is a knave or an afs to the contrary fide.
There is a treaſury of merits in the Fanatic church,
as well as in the Popish; and a pennyworth to be
had of faintſhip, honefty, and poetry, for the lewd,
the factious, and the blockheads: but the longeſt
chapter in Deuteronomy has not curfes enough for
an Anti-Bromingham. My comfort is, their ma-
nifeft prejudice to my cauſe will render their judge-
ment of lefs authority againft me.
Yet if a poem
have genius, it will force its own reception in the
world. For there is a ſweetneſs in good verfe, which
tickles even while it hurts: and no man can be
heartily angry with him who pleaſes him againſt his
will. The commendation of adverfaries is the greateſt
triumph of a writer, becauſe it never comes unleſs
extorted. But I can be fatisfied on more eaſy terms:
if I happen to pleaſe the more moderate fort, I fhall
4
be
112
To the READER.
be fure of an honeſt party, and in all probability,
of the best judges; for the leaft concerned are com-
monly the leaſt corrupt. And I confefs I have laid
in for thofe, by rebating the fatire, where juftice
would allow it, from carrying too fharp an edge.
They who can criticiſe fo weakly as to imagine I
have done my worft, may be convinced at their own
coſt that I can write feverely, with more eaſe than I
can gently. I have but laughed at fome men's follies,
when I could have declaimed againſt their vices: and
other men's virtues I have commended, as freely as
I have taxed their crimes. And now, if you are a
malicious reader, I expect you fhould return upon
me that I affect to be thought more impartial than I
am: but if men are not to be judged by their pro-
feffions, God forgive you commonwealth's-men for
profeffing fo plaufibly for the government. You
cannot be fo unconſcionable as to charge me for not
fubfcribing my name; for that would reflect too
groſly upon your own party, who never dare, though
they have the advantage of a jury to fecure them. If
you like not my poem, the fault may poffibly be in
my writing; though it is hard for an author to judge
againſt himſelf. But more probably it is in your
morals, which cannot bear the truth of it. The
violent on both fides will condemn the character of
Abfalom, as either too favourably or too hardly
drawn. But they are not the violent whom I defire
to pleaſe. The fault on the right hand is to exte-
nuate, palliate, and indulge; and to confefs freely,
I have endeavoured to commit it. Beſides the reſpect
which I owe his birth, I have a greater for his heroic
virtues; and David himself could not be more ten-
der
To the READER.
113
der of the young man's life, than I would be of his
reputation. But fince the most excellent natures are
always the most eafy, and, as being fuch, are the
fooneft perverted by ill counfels, eſpecially when
baited with fame and glory; it is no more a wonder
that he withſtood not the temptations of Achitophel
than it was for Adam not to have refifted the two
devils, the ferpent and the woman. The conclufion
of the story I purpoſely forbore to profecute, becauſe
I could not obtain from myfelf to fhew Abfalom un-
fortunate. The frame of it was cut out but for a
picture to the waift; and if the draught be fo far
true; it is as much as I deſigned.
Were I the inventor, who am only the hiftorian,
I ſhould certainly conclude the piece, with the re-
concilement of Abfalom to David. And who knows
but this may come to pafs? Things were not brought
to an extremity where I left the ftory: there feems
yet to be room left for a compofure; hereafter there
may be only for pity. I have not fo much as an un-
charitable with againſt Achitophel, but am content
to be accuſed of a good-natured error, and to hope
with Origen, that the devil himſelf may at laſt be
faved. For which reafon, in this poem, he is nei-
ther brought to fet his houfe in order, nor to difpofe
of his perfon afterwards as he in wiſdom fhall think
fit. God is infinitely merciful; and his vicegerent is
only not fo, becauſe he is not infinite.
The true end of fatire is the amendment of vices
by correction. And he, who writes honeftly, is no
more an enemy to the offender, than the phyſician
to the patient, when he prefcribes harſh remedies to
VOL. I.
I
an
114
To the READER.
an inveterate difeafe; for thofe are only in order to
prevent the chirurgeon's work of an Enſe refcindendum,
which I wish not to my very enemies. To conclude
all; if the body politick have any analogy to the
natural, in my weak judgment, an act of oblivion
were as neceffary in a hot diftemper'd ſtate, as an
opiate would be in a raging fever.
A
......
Xx
ABSALOM
}
ก
ABSALO M
AND
A CHITOPHE L.
I'
PART the FIRST.
N pious times ere prieſtcraft did begin,
Before polygamy was made a fin n;
When man on many multiply'd his kind,
Ere one to one was curfedly confin'd;
When nature prompted, and no law deny'd
Fromifcuous ufe of concubine and bride;
I 2
Then
116
Part I.
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Then Ifrael's monarch after heav'n's own heart,
His vigorous warmth did variouſly impart
To wives and flaves; and wide as his command,
Scatter'd his Maker's image through the land.
Michal, of royal blood, the crown did wear;
A foil ungrateful to the tiller's care:
Not fo the reft; for feveral mother's bore
To god-like David feveral fons before.
But fince like flaves his bed they did afcend,
No true fucceffion could their feed attend.
Of all the numerous progeny was none
So beautiful, fo brave, as Abfalom:
Whether infpir'd by fome diviner luft,
His father got him with a greater guft:
Or that his confcious deſtiny made way,
By manly beauty to imperial fway.
Early in foreign fields he won renown,
With kings and ftates ally'd to Ifrael's crown:
In peace the thoughts of war he could remove,
And feem'd as he were only born for love,
Whate'er he did, was done with fo much eaſe,
In him alone 'twas natural to pleaſe :
His motions all accompany'd with grace;
And paradife was open'd in his face.
With fecret joy indulgent David view'd
His youthful image in his fon renew'd:
To all his wishes nothing he deny'd;
I
And made the charming 1 Annabel his bride.
What faults he had, for who from faults is free?
His father could not, or he would not fee.
Some warm exceffes which the law forbore,
Were conftru'd youth that purg'd by boiling o'er;
And Amnon's murder by a fpecious name,
Was call'd a juft revenge for injur'd fame.
1 Lady Ann Scot daughter of Francis III. carl of Bucclough.
Thus
Part I.
117
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Thus prais'd and lov'd, the noble youth remain'd,
While David undisturb'd in Sion reign'd.
But life can never be fincerely bleft:
Heaven puniſhes the bad, and proves the beſt.
The Jews, a headstrong, moody, murmuring race,
As ever try'd th' extent and ſtretch of grace;
God's pamper'd people, whom debauch'd with eaſe,
No King could govern, nor no God could pleafe;
Gods they had try'd of every fhape and fize,
That goldfmiths could produce, or priests devife:
Theſe 2 Adam-wits too fortunately free,
Began to dream they wanted liberty;
And when no rule, no precedent was found,
Of men, by laws lefs circumfcrib'd and bound;
They led their wild defires to woods and caves,
And thought that all but favages were flaves.
They who, when Saul was dead, without a blow,
Made fooliſh Ifhbofheth the crown forego;
Who baniſh'd David did from Hebron bring,
And with a general fhout proclaim'd him king:
Thoſe very Jews, who at their very beſt,
Their humour more than loyalty expreft,
Now wonder'd why fo long they had obey'd
An idol monarch, which their hands had made;
Thought they might ruin him they could create,
Or melt him to that golden calf a ſtate.
But theſe were random bolts: no form'd defign,
Nor intereft made the factious crowd to join :
The fober part of Ifrael, free from ſtain,
Well knew the value of a peaceful reign;
And looking backward with a wife affright,
Saw feams of wounds diſhoneft to the fight:
I The Adam-wits, &c. Perfons difcontented in happy circum-
ftances are not unluckily called " Adam-wits," from a remembrance
of Adam's weakneſs in Paradife, who, aiming at being happier than
the happiest, by perfuafion of Eve, eat of the forbidden fruit, and there-
by forfeited the divine favour, and was excluded the garden of Eden.
In
I 3
118
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL. Part I.
In contemplation of whofe ugly fcars,
They curft the memory of civil wars.
The moderate fort of men thus qualify'd,
Inclin❜d the balance to the better fide;
And David's mildneſs manag'd it fo well,
The bad found no occafion to rebel.
But when to fin our bias'd nature leans,
The careful devil is ftill at hand with means;
And providently pimps for ill defires:
The good old cauſe reviv'd a plot requires.
Plots true or falfe are neceffary things,
To raiſe up commonwealths, and ruin kings.
Th' inhabitants of old Jerufalem
Were Jebufites; the town fo call'd from them;
And theirs the native right-
But when the chofen people grew more ftrong,
The rightful cauſe at length became the wrong ;
And every loſs the men of Jebus bore,
They ftill were thought God's enemies the more.
Thus worn or weaken'd, well or ill content,
Submit they muſt to David's government :
Impoverish'd and depriv'd of all command,
Their taxes doubled as they loft their land;
And what was harder yet to flesh and blood,
Their gods difgrac'd, and burnt like common wood.
This fet the heathen prieſthood in a flame;
For priests of all religions are the fame.
Of whatfoe'er defcent their godhead be,
Stock, ftone, or other homely pedigree,
In his defence his fervants are as bold,
As if he had been born of beaten gold.
The Jewiſh rabbins, though their enemies,
In this conclude them honeft men and wife:
For 'twas their duty all the learned think,
T'eſpouſe his caufe, by whom they eat and drink.
From hence began that plot, the nation's curſe,
Bad in itfelf, but reprefented worſe;
Part I.
119
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Rais'd in extremes, and in extremes decry'd:
With oaths affirm'd, with dying vows deny'd;
Not weigh'd nor winnow'd by the multitude;
But fwallow'd in the maſs, unchew'd and crude.
Some truth there was, but daſh'd and brew'd with lies,
To pleaſe the fools, and puzzle all the wife.
Succeeding times did equal folly call,
•
1
Believing nothing, or believing all. ·
Th' Egyptian rites the Jebufites embrac'd;
Where gods were recommended by their taſte.
Such favory deities muft needs be good,
As ferv'd at once for worſhip and for food.
By force they could not introduce theſe gods;
For ten to one in former days was odds.
So fraud was us'd, the facrificer's trade:
Fools are more hard to conquer than perfuade.
Their buſy teachers mingled with the Jews,
And rak'd for converts even the court and ſtews :
Which Hebrew priests the more unkindly took,
Becauſe the fleece accompanies the flock,
Some thought they God's anointed meant to flay
By guns, invented fince full many a day :
Our author fwears it not; but who can know
How far the devil and Jebufites may go?
This plot, which fail'd for want of common fenfe,
Had yet a deep and dangerous confequence:
For as when raging fevers boil the blood,
The ftanding lake foon floats into a flood,
And every hoftile humour, which before
Slept quiet in its channels, bubbles o'er ;
So feveral factions from this firft ferment,
Work up to foam and threat the government.
Some by their friends, more by themſelves thought wife,
Oppos'd the pow'r to which they could not rife.
Some had in courts been great, and thrown from thence,
Like fiends were harden'd in impenitence.
[ 4
Some,
120
Part I.
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Some, by their monarch's fatal mercy, grown
From pardon'd rebels kinſmen to the throne,
Were rais'd in pow'r and public office high;
Strong bands, if bands ungrateful men could tie.
Of theſe the falfe Achitophel was firft;
A name to all fucceeding ages curft:
For cloſe deſigns, and crooked counfels fit;
Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit ;
Reſtleſs, unfix'd in principles and place;
In pow'r unpleas'd, impatient of diſgrace;
A fiery foul, which working out its way,
Fretted the pigmy-body to decay,
And o'er-inform'd the tenement of clay.
A daring pilot in extremity;
Pleas'd with the danger when the waves went high,
He fought the ftorms; but for a calm unfit
Would fteer too nigh the fands to boaft his wit.
Great wits are ſure to madneſs near ally'd,
And thin partitions do their bounds divide;
Elfe why ſhould he with wealth and honour bleſt,
Refuſe his age the needful hours of reſt?
Puniſh a body which he could not pleaſe ;
Bankrupt of life, yet prodigal of eaſe?
And all to leave what with his toil he won,
To that unfeather'd two-legg'd thing, a fon;
Got, while his foul did huddled notions try;
And born a ſhapelefs lump, like anarchy.
In friendſhip falfe, implacable in hate;
Refolv'd to ruin, or to rule the ſtate,
To compafs this the triple bond he broke ;
The pillars of the public fafety fhook;
And fitted Ifrael for a foreign yoke :
Then feiz'd with fear, yet ftill affecting fame,
Ufurp'd a patriot's all-atoning name.
So eaſy ſtill it proves in factious times,
With public zeal to cancel private crimes.
}
How
Part I.
121
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
I
How fafe is treaſon, and how facred, ill,
Where none can fin against the people's will?
Where crouds can wink, and no offence be known,
Since in another's guilt they find their own?
Yet fame deferv'd no enemy can grudge;
The ftateſman we abhor, but praife the judge.
In Ifrael's courts ne'er fat an Abethdin
With more difcerning eyes, or hands more clean,
Unbrib'd, unfought, the wretched to redrefs;
Swift of diſpatch, and eaſy of acceſs.
Oh! had he been content to ferve the crown,
With virtues only proper to the gown;
Or had the rankneſs of the foil been freed
From Cockle, that opprefs'd the noble feed;
David for him his tuneful harp had ftrung,
And heaven had wanted one immortal ſong.
But wild ambition loves to flide, not ftand,
And fortune's ice prefers to virtue's land.
Achitophel grown weary to poffels
A lawful fame, and lazy happineſs,
Difdain'd the golden fruit to gather free,
And lent the croud his arm to fhake the tree.
Now, manifeft of crimes contriv'd long fince,
He ſtood at bold defiance with his prince :
Held up the buckler of the people's caufe
Against the crown, and fculk'd behind the laws.
The wiſh'd occafion of the plot he takes;
Some circumftances finds, but more he makes.
By buzzing emiffaries fills the ears
Of lift'ning crouds with jealoufies and fears.
Of arbitrary counſels brought to light,
And proves the King himſelf a Jebufite.
Weak arguments! which yet he knew full well,
Were ftrong with people eafy to rebel.
For govern'd by the moon, the giddy Jews
Tread the fame track when he the prime renews;
And
122
Part I.
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
And once in twenty years their fcribes record,
By natural inftin&t they change their lord.
Achitophel ftill wants a chief, and none
Was found fo fit as warlike Abfalom.
Not that he wifh'd his greatnefs to create,
For politicians neither love nor hate :
But, for he knew his title not allow'd,
Would keep him ftill depending on the croud :
That kingly pow'r, thus ebbing out, might be
Drawn to the dregs of a democracy.
Him he attempts with ftudied arts to pleaſe,
And fheds his venom in fuch words as theſe.
Aufpicious prince, at whofe nativity
Some royal planet rul'd the fouthern ſky;
Thy longing country's darling and defire;
Their cloudy pillar and their guardian fire:
Their fecond Mofes, whofe extended wand
Divides the feas, and fhews the promis'd land:
Whofe dawning day in every diftant age,
Has exercis'd the facred prophet's rage:
The people's pray'r, the glad diviner's theme,
The young men's vifion, and the old men's dream!
Thee, Saviour, thee the nation's vows confefs,
And never fatisfy'd with feeing, bleſs:
Swift unbeſpoken pomps thy fteps proclaim,
And ftammering babes are taught to lifp thy name,
How long wilt thou the general joy detain,
Starve and defraud the people of thy reign;
Content ingloriously to pafs thy days,
Like one of virtue's fools that feed on praife;
'Till thy fresh glories which now fhine fo bright,
Grow ftale, and tarnish with our daily fight?
Believe me, royal youth, thy fruit must be
Or gather'd ripe, or rot upon the tree.
Heaven has to all allotted, foon or late,
Some lucky revolution of their fate :
4
Whofe
Part I.
123
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Whofe motions if we watch and guide with kill,
For human good depends on human will,
Our fortune rolls as from a ſmooth defcent,
And from the firft impreffion takes the bent:
But if unfeiz'd fhe glides away like wind,
And leaves repenting folly far behind.
Now, now fhe meets you with a glorious prize,
And ſpreads her locks before you as the flies.
Had thus old David, from whofe loins you ſpring,
Not dar'd when fortune call'd him, to be King,
At Gath an exile he might ftill remain,
And heaven's anointing oil had been in vain.
Let his fucceſsful youth our hopes engage;
But fhun th' example of declining age:
Behold him fetting in his weſtern ſkies,
The fhadows lengthening as the vapours rife.
He is not now, as when on Joran's fand
The joyful people throng'd to fee him land,
Cov'ring the beach and black'ning all the ftrand;
But like the prince of angels, from his height
Comes tumbling downward with diminish'd light:
Betray'd by one poor plot to publick fcorn:
Our only bleffing fince his curft return :
Thoſe heaps of people which one fheaf did bind,
Blown off and ſcatter'd by a puff of wind.
What ftrength can he to your defigns oppofe,
Naked of friends and round befet with foes?
If Pharaoh's doubtful fuccour he ſhould uſe,
A foreign aid would more incenfe the Jews:
Proud Egypt would diffembled friendfhip bring;
Foment the war but not fupport the King:
Nor would the royal party e'er unite
With Pharaoh's arms to afif the jebufite;
Or if they should, their intereft foen would break,
And with fuch odions aid make David weak.
All forts of men by my fucceſsful arts,
Abhorring Kings, eftrange their alter'd hearts
}
124
Part I.
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
From David's rule: and 'tis their general cry,
Religion, commonwealth, and liberty.
If you, as champion of the publick good,
Add to their arms a chief of royal blood,
What may not Ifrael hope, and what applaufe
Might fuch a general gain by fuch a caufe?
Not barren praiſe alone, that gaudy flow'r
Fair only to the fight, but folid pow'r :
And nobler is a limited command,
Given by the love of all your native land,
Than a fucceffive title, long and dark,
Drawn from the mouldy rolls of Noah's ark.
What cannot praiſe effect in mighty minds,
When flatt'ry fooths, and when ambition blinds?
Defire of pow'r, on earth a vicious weed,
Yet fprung from high is of celeſtial feed:
In God 'tis glory; and when men aſpire,
"Tis but a ſpark too much of heavenly fire.
Th' ambitious youth too covetous of fame,
Too full of angel's metal in his frame,
Unwarily was led from virtue's ways,
Made drunk with honour, and debauch'd with praife.
Half loath, and half confenting to the ill,
For royal blood within him ftruggled ftill,
He thus reply'd,And what pretence have I
To take up arms for public liberty?
My father governs with unqueftion'd right;
The faith's defender, and mankind's delight;
Good, gracious, juft, obfervant of the laws;
And heav'n by wonders has efpous'd his cauſe.
Whom has he wrong'd in all his peaceful reign?
Who fues for juſtice to his throne in vain ?
What millions has he pardon'd of his foes,
Whom juft revenge did to his wrath expoſe?
Mild, eafy, humble, ftudious of our good;
Inclin❜d to mercy, and averfe from blood.
If
Part I. ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
125
If mildness ill with ftubborn Ifrael fuit,
His crime is God's beloved attribute.
What could he gain his people to betray,
Or change his right for arbitrary ſway?
Let haughty Pharaoh curſe with ſuch a reign
His fruitful Nile, and yoke a ſervile train.
If David's rule Jerufalem difpleaſe,
The dog-ftar heats their brains to this diſeaſe.
Why then fhould I, encouraging the bad,
Turn rebel and run popularly mad?
Were he a tyrant, who by lawleſs might
Opprefs'd the Jews, and rais'd the Jebufite,
Well might I mourn; but nature's holy bands
Would curb my fpirits and reſtrain my hands:
The people might affert their liberty;
But what was right in them were crime in me.
His favour leaves me nothing to require,
Prevents my wiſhes, and out-runs defire;
What more can I expect while David lives?
All but his kingly diadem he gives:
And that-But here he paus'd; then fighing, faid—
Is juftly deftin'd for a worthier head.
For when my father from his toils fhall reft,
And late augment the number of the bleft,
His lawful iffue fhall the throne afcend,
Or the collat'ral line, where that fhall end.
His brother, tho' opprefs'd with vulgar fpite,
Yet dauntless, and fecure of native right,
Of every royal vir:ue ftands poffeſt;
Still dear to all the braveft and the beſt.
His courage foes, his friends his truth proclaim ;
His loyalty the King, the world his fame.
His mercy e'en th' offending croud will find;
For fure he comes of a forgiving kind.
Why should I then repine at heaven's decree,
Which gives me no pretence to royalty?
Yet
126
Part I.
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Yet oh that fate propitiouſly inclin'd,
Had rais'd my birth, or had debas'd my mind;
To my large foul not all her treaſure lent,
And then betray'd it to a mean deſcent!
I find, I find my mounting fpirits bold,
And David's part difdains my mother's mould.
Why am I fcanted by a niggard birth?
My foul difclaims the kindred of her earth;
And made for empire whifpers me within,
Defire of greatnefs is a god-like fin.
Him ftagg'ring fo, when hell's dire agent found,
While fainting virtue ſcarce maintain'd her ground,
He pours freſh forces in, and thus replies :
Th' eternal God, fupremely good and wife,
Imparts not theſe prodigious gifts in vain :
What wonders are referv'd to bleſs your reign?
Against your will your arguments have ſhown,
Such virtue's only giv'n to guide a throne.
Not that your father's mildness I contemn;
But manly force becomes the diadem.
"Tis true he grants the people all they crave;
And more perhaps, than fubje&ts ought to have:
For lavish grants fuppofe a monarch tame,
And more his goodness than his wit proclaim.
But when fhould people ftrive their bonds to break,
If not when Kings are negligent or weak?
Let him give on 'till he can give no more,
The thrifty fanhedrim fhall keep him poor;
And every fhekel, which he can receive,
Shall coft a limb of his prerogative.
To ply him with new plots fhall be my care;
Or plunge him deep in fome expenfive war;
Which when his treafure can no more fupply,
He muft, with the remains of kingſhip, buy
His faithful friends, our jealoufies and fears
Call Jebufites, and Pharaoh's penfioners;
Whom
Part I.
127
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Whom when our fury from his aid has torn,
He fhall be naked left to public fcorn.
The next fucceffor, whom I fear and hate,
My arts have made obnoxious to the ftate;
Turn'd all his virtues to his overthrow,
And gain'd our elders to pronounce a foe.
His right, for fums of neceffary gold,
Shall first be pawn'd, and afterwards be fold;
'Till time ſhall ever-wanting David draw,
To país your doubtful title into law;
If not, the people have a right fupreme
To make their kings; for kings are made for them.
All empire is no more than pow'r in truſt,
Which, when refumed, can be no longer juſt.
Succeffion, for the general good defign'd,
In its own wrong a nation cannot bind ;
If altering that the people can relieve,
Better one fuffer than a nation grieve.
The Jews well know their pow'r : ere Saul they choſe,
God was their King, and God they durft depofe,
Urge now your piety, your filial name,
A father's right, and fear of future fame ;
The publick good, that univerfal call,
To which e'en heav'n fubmitted, anſwers all.
Nor let his love enchant your generous mind 13
'Tis nature's trick to propagate her kind.
Our fond begetters, who would never die,
Love but themſelves in their pofterity.
Or let his kindneſs by th' effects be try'd,
Or let him lay his vain pretence afide.
God faid, he lov'd your father; could he bring
A better proof, than to anoint him King?
It furely fhew'd he lov'd the fhepherd well,
Who gave fo fair a flock as Ifrael.
!
Would David have you thought his darling fon ?
What means he then to alienate the crown ?
The
128
Part I.
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
The name of godly he may bluſh to bear:
Is't after God's own heart to cheat his heir?
He to his brother gives fupreme command,
To you a legacy of barren land;
Perhaps th' old harp, on which he thrums his lays,
Or fome dull Hebrew ballad in your praife.
Then the next heir, a prince fevere and wife,
Already looks on you with jealous eyes;
Sees through the thin difguifes of your arts,
And marks your progrefs in the people's hearts;
Though now his mighty foul its grief contains:
He meditates revenge who leaft complains;
And like a lion, flumb'ring in the way,
Or fleep diffembling, while he waits his prey,
His fearless foes within his distance draws,
Conſtrains his roaring, and contracts his paws;
'Till at the laſt his time for fury found,
He fhoots with fudden vengeance from the ground;
The proftrate vulgar paffes o'er and fpares,
But with a lordly rage his hunters tears.
Your cafe no tame expedients will afford:
Refolve on death, or conqueft by the fword,
Which for no lefs a ftake than life
you
draw ;
And felf-defence is nature's eldeft law.
Leave the warm people no confidʼring time :
For then rebellion may be thought a crime.
Avail yourſelf of what occafion gives,
But try your title while your father lives:
And that your arms may have a fair pretence,
Proclaim you take them in the King's defence;
Whofe facred life each minute would expofe
To plots, from feeming friends, and fecret foes.
And who can found the depth of David's foul?
Perhaps his fear his kindneſs may controul.
He fears his brother, tho' he loves his fon,
For plighted vows too late to be undone.
If
Part I.
129
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
If fo, by force he wishes to be gain'd:
Like women's leachery to feem conſtrain'd.
Doubt not: but, when he moſt affects the frown,
Commit a pleafing rape upon the crown.
Secure his perfon to fecure your caufe:
They who poffefs the prince poffefs the laws.
He faid, and this advice above the reſt,
With Abfalom's mild nature fuited beft;
Unblam'd of life, ambition fet afide,
Not ftain'd with cruelty, nor puft with pride.
How happy had he been, if deſtiny
Had higher plac'd his birth, or not fo high!
His kingly virtues might have claim'd a throne,
And bleft all other countries but his own.
But charming greatnefs fince fo few refufe,
'Tis jufter to lament him than accuſe.
Strong were his hopes a rival to remove,
With blandiſhments to gain the publick love:
To head the faction while their zeal was hot,
And popularly profecute the plot.
To further this, Achitophel unites
The malcontents of all the Ifraelites:
Whofe diff'ring parties he could wifely join,
For feveral ends, to ferve the fame defign.
The beft, and of the princes fome were fuch,
Who thought the pow'r of monarchy too much;
Miſtaken men, and patriots in their hearts;
Not wicked, but feduc'd by impious arts.
By theſe the ſprings of property were bent,
And wound fo high, they crack'd the government.
The next for int'reſt ſought t' embroil the ſtate,
To fell their duty at a dearer rate;
And make their Jewish markets of the throne;
Pretending publick good to ferve their own.
Others thought.kings an uſeleſs heavy load,
Who coft too much, and did too little good.
VOL. I.
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Thefe
130
Part I.
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Theſe were for laying honeft David by,
On principles of pure good huſbandry.
With them join'd all th' haranguers of the throng,
That thought to get preferment by the tongue.
Who follow next a double danger bring,
Not only hating David, but the king;
The Solymaan rout; well vers'd of old,
In godly faction, and in treaſon bold;
Cowring and quaking at a conquʼror's ſword,
But lofty to a lawful prince reftor'd;
Saw with disdain an Ethnick plot begun,
And ſcorn'd by Jebufites to be outdone.
Hot Levites headed theſe; who pull'd before
From th' ark, which in the judges days they bore,
Refum'd their cant, and with a zealous cry,
Purfu'd their old belov'd theocracy:
Where fanhedrim and priest enflav'd the nation,
And juſtified their ſpoils by infpiration:
For who fo fit to reign as Aaron's race,
If once dominion they could found in grace?
Theſe led the pack; tho' not of ſureſt ſcent,
Yet deepest mouth'd against the government.
A numerous hoft of dreaming faints fucceed,
Of the true old enthufiaftick breed:
'Gainſt form and order they their pow'r employ,
Nothing to build, and all things to deſtroy.
But far more numerous was the herd of fuch,
Who think too little, and who talk too much.
Theſe out of mere inftinct, they knew not why,
Ador'd their fathers God and property;
And by the fame blind benefit of fate,
The devil and the Jebufite did hate:
Born to be fav'd, ev'n in their own deſpite,
Becauſe they could not help believing right.
Such were the tools: but a whole Hydra more
Remains of prouting heads too long to ſcore.
Some
Part I.
131
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Some of their chiefs were princes of the land;
In the first rank of theſe did Zimri ftand:
A man fo various, that he feem'd to be
Not one, but all mankind's epitome:
Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong;
Was every thing by ftarts, and nothing long;
But, in the courſe of one revolving moon,
Was chymift, fidler, ftatefman, and buffoon:
Then all for women, painting, rhiming, drinking,
Beſides ten thouſand freaks that dy'd in thinking.
Bleſt madman, who could every hour employ,
With fomething new to wifh, or to enjoy!
Railing and praifing were his ufual themes;
And both, to fhew his judgment, in extremes:
So over violent, or over civil,
That ev'ry man with him was God or Devil.
In ſquand'ring wealth was his peculiar art:
Nothing went unrewarded but defert.
Beggar'd by fools, whom ftill he found too late;
He had his jeft, and they had his estate.
He laugh'd himſelf from court; then fought relief
By forming parties, but could ne'er be chief:
For fpite of him the weight of buſineſs fell
On Abfalom, and wife Achitophel:
Thus, wicked but in will, of means bereft,
He left not faction, but of that was left.
Titles and names 'twere tedious to rehearſe
Of lords, below the dignity of verſe.
Wits, warriors, commonwealths-men, were the beſt:
Kind huſbands, and mere nobles, all the reſt.
And therefore, in the name of dulnefs, be
The well-hung Balaam and cold Caleb free:
And canting Nadab let oblivion damn,
Who made new porridge for the paſchal lamb.
Let friendship's holy band fome names affure;
Some their own worth, and fome let fcorn fecure.
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Nor
132
Part I.
ABSALOM and ACRITOPHEL.
Nor hall the raſcal rabble here have place,
Whom kings no titles gave, and God no grace:
Not bull-fac'd Jonas, who could ftatutes draw
To mean rebellion, and make treafon law.
But he, tho' bad, is follow'd by a worfe,
The wretch who heaven's anointed dar'd to curfe;
Shimei, whofe youth did early promile bring
Of zeal to God and hatred to his King
Did wifely from expentive fins refrain,
And never broke the fabbath bat for gain:
Nor ever was he known an oath to vent,
Or curſe, unleſs againft the government.
Thus heaping wealth, by the most ready way
Among the Jews, which was to cheat and pray;
The city to reward his pious hate
Against his matter, chofe him magiftrate.
His hand a vafe of justice did uphold;
His neck was loaded with a chain of gold.
During his office treafon was no crime;
The fous of Belial had a glorious time:
For Shimei, tho' not prodigal of pelf,
Yet lov'd his wicked neighbour as himſelf.
When two or three were gathered to declaim
Against the monarch of Jerufalem,
Shimei was always in the midft of them:
And if they curs'd the King when he was by,
Would rather curfe than break good company.
If any durft his factious friends accufe,
He pack'd a jury of diffenting Jews;
Whofe fellow-feeling in the godly caufe
Would free the fuff'ring faint from human laws.
For laws are only made to punish thoſe
Who ferve the King, and to protect his foes.
If any leiſure time he had from pow'r,
Becaufe 'tis fin to mifemploy an hour:
His bufinefs was, by writing to perfuade,
That kings were uſeleſs and a clog to trade:
Part I.
133
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
And that his noble fyle he might refine,
No Rechabite more fon'd the fumes of wine.
Chafe were his cellars, and his brieval board
The grofsnefs of a city feaft abborr'd:
His cooks with long difafe their trade forgot;
Cool was his kitchen, tho' his brains were hot.
Such frugal virtue malice may accufe;
But fare 'twas necetary to the Jews:
For towns, once burnt, fuch magiftrates require
As dare not tempt God's providence by fire.
With Spiritual food he fed his fervants well,
But free from Beth that made the Jews rebel:
And Mofes' laws he held in more account,
For forty days of fafting in the mount.
To speak the reft who better are forgot,
Would tire a well-breath'd witnefs of the plot,
Yet Corab, thou halt from oblivion pafs;
Ered thyself, thou monumental brafs,
High as the ferpent of thy metal made,
While nations and fecure beneath thy fhade.
What, tho' his birth were bafe, yet comets rife
From earthly vapours ere they fine in kies.
Prodigious actions may as well be done
By weaver's iffue, as by prince's fon.
This arch-atteftor for the publick good
By that one deed ennobles all his blood.
Who ever ak'd the witneffes high race,
Whofe oath with martyrdom did Stephen grace?
Ours was a Levite, and as times went then,
His tribe were God Almighty's gentlemen.
Sunk were his eyes, his voice was harth and loud,
Sure figns he neither cholerick was, nor proud:
His long chin prov'd his wit; his faint-like grace
A church vermillion, and a Mofes' face,
His memory miraculously great,
Could plots, exceeding man's belief, repeat;
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Which
134
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Part I.
Which therefore cannot be accounted lies,
For human wit could never fuch devife.
Some future truths are mingled in his book;
But where the witneſs fail'd the prophet ſpoke:
Some things like vifionary flight appear;
The fpirit caught him up the Lord knows where;
And gave him his rabinical degree,
Unknown to foreign univerfity.
His judgment yet his memory did excel;
Which piec'd his wonderous evidence fo well,
And fuited to the temper of the times,
Then groaning under jebufitick crimes.
Let Ifrael's foes fufpect his heavenly call,
And rafhly judge his writ apocryphal;
Our laws for fuch affronts have forfeits made:
He takes his life who takes away his trade.
Were I myſelf in witnefs Corah's place,
The wretch who did me fuch a dire difgrace,
Should whet my memory, tho' once forgot,
To make him an appendix of my plot.
His zeal to heav'n made him his prince deſpiſe,
And load his perfon with indignities.
But zeal peculiar privilege affords,
Indulging latitude to deeds and words:
And Corah might for Agag's murder call,
In terms as coarfe as Samuel us'd to Saul.
What others in his evidence did join,
The best that could be had for love or coin,
In Corah's own predicament will fall:
For witness is a common name to all.
Surrounded thus with friends of ev'ry fort,
Deluded Abfalom forfakes the court:
Impatient of high hopes, urg'd with renown,
And fir'd with near poffeffion of a crown.
Th' admiring croud are dazzled with furprife,
And on his goodly perfon feed their eyes.
2
His
Part I.
135
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
His joy conceal'd he fets himſelf to fhow;
On each fide bowing popularly low:
His looks, his geftures, and his words he frames,
And with familiar eaſe repeats their names.
Thus form'd by nature, furnish'd out with arts,
He glides unfelt into their fecret hearts.
Then with a kind compaffionating look,
And fighs, befpeaking pity ere he ſpoke,
Few words he faid; but eaſy thofe and fit,
More flow than hybla-drops, and far more fweet.
I mourn, my countrymen, your loft eſtate;
Tho' far unable to prevent your fate:
Behold a banish'd man for your dear cauſe
Expos'd a prey to arbitrary laws!
1
Yet oh! that I alone could be undone,
Cut off from empire, and no more a fon!
Now all your liberties a ſpoil are made;
Egypt and Tyrus intercept your trade,
And Jebusites your facred rites invade.
My father, whom with rev'rence yet I name,
Charm'd into eafe, is careleſs of his fame;
And brib'd with petty fums of foreign gold,
Is grown in Bathsheba's embraces old;
Exalts his enemies, his friends deftroys;
And all his pow'r againſt himſelf employs.
He gives, and let him give, my right away:
But why ſhould he his own and yours betray?
He, only he, can make the nation bleed,
And he alone from my revenge is freed.
Take then my tears, with that he wip'd his eyes,
'Tis all the aid my prefent pow'r fupplies:
No court-informer can theſe arms accufe;
Theſe arms may fons against their father's uſe:
And 'tis my wish, the next fucceffor's reign
May make no other Ifraelite complain.
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}
Youth
136
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL. Part I.
Youth, beauty, graceful action feldom fail;
But common intereſt always will prevail:
And pity never ceaſes to be fhown
To him who makes the people's wrongs his own.
The croud that ftill believe their kings oppreſs,
With lifted hands their young Meffiah bleſs:
Who now begins his progrefs to ordain
With chariots, horfemen, and a numʼrous train:
From eaft to weft his glories he diſplays,
And, like the fun, the promis'd land furveys,
Fame runs before him as the morning-ſtar,
And ſhouts of joy falute him from afar:
Each houſe receives him as a guardian god,
And confecrates the place of his abode.
But hofpitable treats did moſt commend
Wife Iffachar, his wealthy weftern friend.
This moving court that caught the people's eyes,
And feem'd but pomp, did other ends difguife:
Achitophel had form'd it, with intent
To found the depths, and fathom where it went,
The people's hearts, diftinguiſh friends from foes;
And try their ſtrength before they came to blows.
Yet all was colour'd with a ſmooth pretence
Of fpecious love, and duty to their prince.
Religion, and rediefs of grievances,
Two names that always cheat, and always pleaſe,
Are often urg'd; and good king David's life
Endanger'd by a brother and a wife.
Thus in a pageant fhew a plot is made;
And peace itſelf is war in mafquerade.
Oh foolish Ifrael! never warn'd by ill!
Still the fame bait, and circumvented ftill!
Did ever men forfake their prefent eaſe,
In midst of health imagine a diſeaſe;
Take pains contingent mifchiefs to foreſee,
Make heirs for monarchs, and for God decree?
What
Part I.
137
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
What ſhall we think? Can people give away,
Both for themſelves and fons, their native fway?
Then they are left defenceleſs to the fword
Of each unbounded, arbitrary lord:
And laws are vain, by which we right enjoy,
If kings unqueftion'd can thofe laws deftroy.
Yet if the croud be judge of fit and juft,
And kings are only officers in truſt,
Then this refuming covenant was declar'd
When kings were made, or is for ever barr'd,
If thoſe who gave the fcepter could not tie
By their own deed their own pofterity,
How then cou'd Adam bind his future race?
How cou'd his forfeit on mankind take place?
Or how cou'd heavenly juftice damn us all,
Who ne'er confented to our father's fall?
Then kings are flaves to thofe whom they command,
And tenants to their people's pleaſure ftand.
Add, that the pow'r for property allow'd
Is mifchievously feated in the croud:
For who can be ſecure of private right,
If fovereign fway may be diffolv'd by might?
Nor is the people's judgment always true:
The moft may err as grofly as the few?
And faultlefs kings run down by common cry,
For vice, oppreffion, and for tyranny.
What ftandard is there in a fickle rout,
Which, flowing to the mark, runs fafter out?
Nor only crouds but fanhedrims may be
Infected with this publick lunacy,
And fhare the madneſs of rebellious times,
To murder monarchs for imagin'd crimes.
If they may give and take whene'er they pleaſe,
Not kings alone, the Godhead's images,
But government itfelf at length muft fall
To nature's ſtate, where all have right to all.
Yet,
138 ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL. Part I.
Yet, grant our lords the people kings can make,
What prudent men a fettled throne would fhake?
For whatfoe'er their fufferings were before,
That change they covet makes them fuffer more.
All other errors but difturb a flate;
But innovation is the blow of fate.
If ancient fabricks nod, and threat to fall,
To patch their flaws, and buttrefs up the wall,
Thus far 'tis duty: but here fix the mark;
For all beyond it is to touch the ark.
To change foundations, caft the frame anew,
Is work for rebels, who bafe ends purfue;
At once divine and human laws controul,
And mend the parts by ruin of the whole.
The tamp'ring world is fubject to this curfe,
To phyfick their difeafe into a worſe.
Now what relief can righteous David bring?
How fatal 'tis to be too good a king!
Friends he has few, fo high the madness grows;
Who dare be fuch must be the people's foes.
Yet fome there were, e'en in the worst of days;
Some let me name, and naming is to praiſe.
In this fhort file Barzillai firft appears;
Barzillai, crown'd with honour and with years.
Long fince, the rifing rebels he withſtood
In regions wafte beyond the Jordan's flood:
Unfortunately brave to buoy the ſtate;
But finking underneath his maſter's fate:
In exile with his godlike prince he mourn'd;
For him he fuffer'd, and with him return'd.
The court he practis'd, not the courtier's art:
Large was his wealth, but larger was his heart,
Which well the nobleft objects knew to chooſe,
The fighting warrior, and recording mufe.
His bed could once a fruitful iffue boaft;
Now more than half a father's name is loft.
His
Part I:
139
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
His eldeſt hope, with every grace adorn'd,
By me, fo heaven will have it, always mourn'd,
And always honour'd, fnatch'd in manhood's prime
By unequal fates, and providence's crime:
Yet not before the goal of honour won,
All parts fulfill'd of fubject and of fon:
Swift was the race, but fhort the time to run.
Oh narrow circle, but of pow'r divine,
Scanted in space, but perfect in thy line!
}
By fea, by land, thy matchlefs worth was known,
Arms thy delight, and war was all thy own:
Thy force infus'd the fainting Tyrians prop'd;
And haughty Pharaoh found his fortune ftop'd.
Oh ancient honour! Oh unconquer'd hand,
Whom foes unpuniſh'd never cou'd withſtand!
But Ifrael was unworthy of his name:
Short is the date of all immoderate fame.
It looks as heaven our ruin had defign'd,
And durft not truft thy fortune and thy mind.
Now, free from earth, thy difencumber'd foul
Mounts up,
and leaves behind the clouds and ſtarry pole:
From thence thy kindred legions mayft thou bring,
To aid the guardian angel of thy King.
Here ftop, my mufe, here ceaſe thy painful flight:
No pinions can purfue immortal height :
Tell good Barzillai thou canst fing no more,
And tell thy foul fhe ſhould have fled before:
Or fled the with his life, and left this verſe
To hang on her departed patron's hearfe?
Now take thy fteepy flight from heav'n, and feel
If thou canft find on earth another he:
Another he would be too hard to find;
See then whom thou canft fee not far behind.
Zadoc the priest, whom. fhunning pow'r and place,
His lowly mind advanc'd to David's grace.
With him the Sagan of Jerufalem,
Of hof itable foul, and noble ftem;
140
Part I.
ASSALOM and AcsITOFBEL.
Him ¹ of the wefern dome, whofe weighty feafe
Flows in ft words and heavenly eloquence.
The prophets fous, by fach example led,
To learning and to loyalty were bred :
For colleges on bounteous kings depend,
And never rebel was to arts a friend.
To thefe fucceed the pillars of the laws;
Who beft can plead, and beft can judge a caufe,
Next them a train of loyal peers afcend;
Sharp-judging Adriel, the mufes friend,
Himself a mafe: in fanhedrims debate
Trae to his prince, but not a fave of fate :
Whops David's love with honours did adorn,
That from his disobedient fon were torn.
Jotbam of piercing wit, and pregnant thought;
Endued by nature, and by learning taught,
To more afemblies, who but only try'd
The warle a-while, then chofe the better ide:
Nor chofe alone, but turn'd the balance too;
So much the weight of one brave man can do,
Habai, the friend of David in diftrefs
In publick forms of manly fledfaltnefs:
By foreign treaties he inform'd his youth,
And join'd experience to his native truth.
His frugal care fupply'd the wanting throne;
Fragal for that, but bounteous of his own :
'Tis ealy condu& when exchequers flow;
But hard the talk to manage well the low :
For fovereign power is too deprefs'd or high,
When Kings are forc'd to fell, or cronds to buy.
1 Dr, Dolben, Bitkop of Rochester, and Dean of Weftminfır, an
caly, good-natured, modeft, (pirited, elaquent, and learned man.
1683 he was raifed to the fee of York: he bore arass against the par-
lizment in King Charles the 18t's reign, who made him a major.
When that monarch's affairs were ruined, he returned to Oxford,
purfued his fludies, and entered into orders,
Indulge
Part I. ABSALOU and AcxiTOPRAL.
་
141
Indulge one labour more, my weary mufe,
For Amiel : who cao Amicl's praïfe refule ?
Of ancient race by birth, but aobler yet
Ia his own worth, and without title great :
The fanhedrin long time as chief he ral'd,
Their reafon guided, and their pathon cool'd:
So dextrous was be in the crown's defence,
So form'd to speak a loyal nation's feafe,
That, as their band was Ifrael's tribes in ſmall,
So it was be to reprefent them all.
Now rather charioteers the feat altend,
Whole loofe careers his feady kill commend :
They, like th' unequal ruler of the day,
Milguide the feators, and miſtake the way;
While he withdrawu at their mad labours failles,
And fafe enjoys the fabbath of his tolls.
Thefe were the chief, a fmall bat faithful band
Of worthies, ia the breach who dar³d to Bard,
And tempt th' united fury of the laud,
With grief they view'd fuch pow'rful engines bent,
To batter down the lawful government.
A numerous faction, with pretended frights,
Ia fanhedrims to plume the regal rights;
The true fucceffor from the court remov'd ;
The plot, by hireling witneffes, improv'd.
Thefe ills they faw, and, as their duty bound,
They fhew'd the King the danger of the wound z
That no conceffions from the throne wou'd pleate,
But lenitives fomented the difeafe:
That Abfalom, ambitious of the crown,
Was made the lure to draw the people down :
That falfe Achitophel's pernicious hate
Had turn'd the plot to ruin church and-ftate:
The council violent, the rabble worfe:
That Shimei taught Jerufalem to curfe.
With all thefe loads of injuries oppreft,
And long revolving in his careful breat
}
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Part I.
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
The event of things, at last his patience tir'd,
Thus, from his royal throne, by heaven infpir'd,
The god-like David fpoke; with awful fear
His train their Maker in their mafler hear.
Thus long have I by native mercy fway'd,
My wrongs diffembled, my revenge delay'd:
So willing to forgive th' offending age;
So much the father did the King affuage.
But now fo far my clemency they flight,
Th' offenders queftion my forgiving right,
That one was made for many, they contend;
But 'tis to rule; for that's a monarch's end.
They call my tenderneſs of blood, my fear:
Tho' manly tempers can the longeſt bear.
Yet fince they will divert my native courſe,
'Tis time to fhew I am not good by force.
Thoſe heap'd affronts that haughty ſubjects bring,
Are burdens for a camel, not a King.
Kings are the public pillars of the ftate,.
Born to fuftain and prop the nation's weight:
if my young Sampfon will pretend a call
To shake the column, let him fhare the fall:
But oh, that yet he would repent and live!
How eafy 'tis for parents to forgive!
With how few tears a pardon might be won
From nature, pleading for a darling fon!
Poor, pitied youth, by my paternal care,
Rais'd up to all the height his frame could bear!
Had God ordain'd his fate for empire born,
He would have giv'n his foul another turn :
Gull'd with a patriot's name, whofe modern fenfe
Is one that would by law fupplant his prince;
The people's brave, the politician's tool;
Never was patriot yet, but was a fool.
Whence comes it, that religion and the laws
Should more be Abfalom's than David's caufe?
His
Part I.
143
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
His old inftructor ere he loft his place,
Was never thought indu'd with ſo much grace.
Good heavens, how faction can a patriot paint!
My rebel ever proves my people's faint.
Would they impofe an heir upon the throne,
Let fanhedrims be taught to give their own.
A King's at leaſt a part of government;
And mine as requifite as their confent:
Without my leave a future King to chufe,
Infers a right the prefent to depoſe.
True, they petition me t' approve their choice:
But Eſau's hands fuit ill with Jacob's voice.
My pious fubjects for my ſafety pray ;
Which to fecure they take my pow'r away.
From plots and treafons heaven preſerve my years,
But fave me most from my petitioners.
Unfatiate as the barren womb or grave;
God cannot grant fo much as they can crave.
What then is left, but with a jealous eye
To guard the fmall remains of royaltý?
The law fhall fill direct my peaceful fway,
And the fame law teach rebels to obey :
Votes fhall no more eſtabliſh'd pow'r controul,
Such votes as make a part exceed the whole.
No groundless clamours fhall my friends remove,
Nor crouds have pow'r to punish ere they prove;
For Gods and god-like Kings their care exprefs,
Still to defend their fervants in diftrefs.
Oh, that my pow'r to faving were confin'd!
Why am I forc'd, like heav'n, againſt my mind,
To make examples of another kind?
Muft I at length the fword of juftice draw?
Oh curft effects of neceffary law!
How ill my fear they by my mercy ſcan!
Beware the fury of a patient man.
Law they require, let law then fhew her face;
They could not be content to look on grace,
}
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Part I
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL
Her hinder parts, but with a daring eye
To tempt the terrour of her front and die.
By their own arts 'tis righteoully decreed,
Thofe dire artificers of death fhall bleed.
Against themselves their witneffes will fwear,
'Till viper-like their mother plot they tear;
And fuck for nutriment that bloody gore,
Which was their principal of life before.
Their Belial with their Beelzebub will fight :
Thus on my foes, my foes fhall do me right.
Nor doubt th' event: for factious crouds engage,
In their firft onfet, all their brutal rage.
Then let 'em take an unrefifted courfe :
Retire, and traverfe, and delude their force:
But when they ftand all breathlefs, urge the fight,
And rife upon them with redoubled might:
For lawful pow'r is ftill fuperiour found;
When long driv'n back at length it ſtands the ground.
He faid: Th' Almighty nodding gave confent;
And peals of thunder fhook the firmament.
Henceforth a ſeries of new time began,
The mighty years in long proceffion ran:
Once more the god-like David was reftor'd,
And willing nations knew their lawful lord.
ABSALOM
ABSALOM
AND
A CHITOPHE L.
PART II.
GAY SA XXS XXX GAY XX
VOL. I.
L
TO THE
REA DE R.
N the year 1680 Mr. Dryden undertook the poem
IN
of Abfalom and Achitophel, upon the defire of
King Charles the Second. The performance was
applauded by every one; and ſeveral perfons preffing
him to write a fecond part, he, upon declining it
himſelf, fpoke to Mr. Tate to write one, and gave
him his advice in the direction of it; and that part
beginning page 156. line 13.
"Next thefe, a troop of bufy fpirits prefs,"
and ending page 161. line the laſt.
"To talk like Doeg, and to write like thee."
containing near two hundred verfes, were intirely
Mr. Dryden's compofitions, befides fome touches in
other places,
ANTONIO
SHAFTESBURY
COMITI
DE
A BSA LO M
A ND
A CHITOPHE L.
ST
PART the SECON D.
Si quis tamen hæc quoque, Si quis captus amore leget.
}
INCE men like beafts each other's prey were made,
Since trade began, and priesthood grew a trade,
Since realms were form'd, none fure ſo curft as thoſe
That madly their own happineſs oppoſe;
There heaven itſelf and god-like Kings, in vain
Show'r down the manna of a gentle reign;
While pamper'd crouds to mad ſedition run,
And monarchs by indulgence are undone.
L 2
Thus
148 ABSALOM and ACHITOP HCL.
Part II.
Thus David's clemency was fatal grown,
While wealthy faction aw'd the wanting throne.
For now their fov'reign's orders to contemn,
Was held the charter of Jerufalem,
His rights t'invae, his tributes to refuſe,
A privilege péculiar to the Jews;
As if from heav'nly call this licence fell,
And Jacob's feed were chofen to rebel!
Achitophel with triumph fees his crimes.
Thus fuited to the madnefs of the times;
And Abfalom, to make his hopes fucceed,
Of flattering charms no longer ftands in need;
While fond of change, though ne'er fo dearly bought,
Our tribes outstrip the youths ambitious thought;
His ſwifteft hopes with fwifter homage meet,
And croud their fervile necks beneath his feet.
Thus to his aid while preffing tides repair,
He mounts and fpreads his ftreamers in the air.
The charms of empire might his youth miſlead,
But what can our befotted Ifrael plead ?
Sway'd by a monarch, whofe ferene command
Seems half the bleffing of our promis'd land.
Whoſe only grievance is exceſs of eaſe ;
Freedom our pain, and plenty our diſeaſe!
Yet as all folly would lay claim to ſenſe,
And wickedness ne'er wanted a pretence,
With arguments they'd make their treafon good,
And righteous David's felf with flanders load:
That arts of foreign fway he did affect,
And guilty Jebufites from law protect,
Whofe very chiefs, convict, were never frced,
Nay we have feen their facrificers bleed!
Accufers infamy is urg'd in vain,
While in the bounds of fenſe they did contain,
But foon they launcht into th' unfathom'd tide,
And in the depths they knew difdain'd to ride,
For
1
Part II.
149
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
For probable difcoveries to difpenfe,
Was thought below a penfion'd evidence ;
Mere truth was dull, nor fuited with the port
Of pamper'd Corah when advanc'd to court.
No less than wonders now they will impofe,
And projects void of grace or fenſe diſcloſe.
Such was the change on pious Michal brought,
Michal that ne'er was cruel even in thought,
The best of Queens, and moſt obedient wife,
Impeach'd of curft deſigns on David's life!
His life, the theme of her eternal prayer,
'Tis fcarce fo much his guardian angel's care.
Not fummer morns fuch mildneſs can difcloſe,
The Hermon lilly, nor the Sharon roſe.
Neglecting each vain pomp of majeſty,
Tranſported Michal feeds her thoughts on high.
She lives with angels, and as angels do,
Quits heaven fometimes to blefs the world below.
Where, cherisht by her bounties plenteous fpring,
Reviving widows fimile, and orphans fing.
Oh! when rebellious Ifrael's crimes at height,
Are threatned with her Lord's approaching fate,
The piety of Michal then remain
In heaven's remembrance, and prolong his reign.
Lefs defolation did the reft purfue,
That from Dan's limits to Beersheba flew,
Lefs fatal the repeated wars of Tyre,
And lefs Jerufalem's avenging fire.
With gentler terrour theſe our ſtate o'er-ran,
Than fince our evidencing days began!
On every cheek a pale confufion fat,
Continu'd fear beyond the worſt of fate!
Truft was no more, art, fcience, ufclefs made,
All occupations loft but Corah's trade.
Mean while a guard on modeft Corah wait,
If not for fafety, needful yet for ftate.
L 3
Well
150
Part II.
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
1
Well might he deem each peer and prince his flave,
And lord it o'er the tribes which he could fave :
Ev'n vice in him was virtue-what fad fate
But for his honefty had feiz'd our ſtate?
And with what tyranny had we been curft,
Had Corah never prov'd a villain firſt ?
T'have told his knowledge of the intrigue in grofs,
Had been alas to our deponent's lofs:
The travell'd Levite had th' experience got,
To huſband well, and make the beſt of's plot;
And therefore like an evidence of ſkill,
With wife referves fecur'd his penfion ftill;
Nor quite of future pow'r himſelf bereft,
But limbos large for unbelievers left.
And now his writ fuch reverence had got,
"Twas worse than plotting to fufpect his plot.
Some were fo well convinc'd, they made no doubt
Themſelves to help the founder'd ſwearers out.
Some had their fenfe impos'd on by their fear,
But more for intereft fake believe and fwear :
Ev'n to that height with fome the phrenzy grew,
They rag'd to find their danger not prove true.
Yet, than all theſe a viler crew remain,
Who with Achitophel the cry maintain;
Not urg'd by fear, nor thro' mifguided fenfe,
Blind zeal and ſtarving need had fome pretence,
But for the good old caufe that did excite
Th' original rebels wiles, revenge and ſpight,
Theſe raiſe the plot to have the fcandal thrown
Upon the bright fucceffor of the crown,
Whofe virtue with fuch wrongs they had purfu'd,
As feem'd all hope of pardon to exclude.
Thus, while on private ends their zeal is built,
The cheated croud applaud and fhare their guilt.
Such practices as thefe, too grofs to lie.
Long unobferv'd by each difcerning eye,
The
1
Part II.
151
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
The more judicious Ifraelites unfpell'd,
Tho' ftill the charm the giddy rabble held,
Ev'n Abſalom amidſt the dazzling beams
Of empire, and ambition's flattering dreams,
Perceives the plot, too foul to be excus'd,
To aid defigns, no lefs pernicious, us'd.
And, filial fenfe yet ftriving in his breaſt,
Thus to Achitophel his doubts expreft,
Why are my thoughts upon a crown employ'd,
Which once obtain'd can be but half enjoy'd?
Not ſo when virtue did my arms require,
And to my father's wars I flew intire.
My regal pow'r how will my foes reſent,
When I myſelf have ſcarce my own confent?
Give me a fon's unblemiſh'd truth again,
Or quench the ſparks of duty that remain.
How flight to force a throne that legions guard
The talk to me; to prove unjust, how hard!
And if th' imagin'd guilt thus wound my thought,
What will it when the tragick fcene is wrought?
Dire war muſt firſt be conjur'd from below,
The realm we'd rule we firſt muft overthrow;
And when the civil furies are on wing
That blind and undiſtinguiſh'd ſlaughters fing,
Who knows what impious chance may reach the King?
Oh! rather let me perifh in the ftrife,
Than have my crown the price of David's life!
Or if the tempeft of the war he ſtand,
In peace, fome vile officious villain's hand
His foul's anointed temple may invade,
Or preft by clamorous crouds, myfelf be made
His murderer; rebellious crouds, whofe guilt
Shall dread his vengeance till his blood be fpilt.
Which if my filial tendernefs oppofe,
Since to the empire by their arms I rofe,
Thofe very arms on me fhall be employ'd,
A new ufurper crown'd, and 1 deſtroy'd :
L 4
The
152
Part II.
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
The fame pretence of publick good will hold,
And new Achitophels be found as bold
To urge the needful change, perhaps the old.
He faid. The ſtateſman with a fmile replies,
A fmile that did his rifing fpleen difguife,
My thoughts prefum'd our labours at an end,
And are we ſtill with confcience to contend?
Whoſe want in Kings, as needful is allow'd,
As 'tis for them to find it in the croud.
Far in the doubtful paffage you are gone,
And only can be fafe by preffing on.
The crown's true heir, a prince fevere and wife,
Has view'd your motions long with jealous eyes:
Your perſon's charms, your more prevailing arts,
And mark'd your progreſs in the people's hearts,
Whoſe patience is th' effect of ftinted pow'r,
But treaſures vengeance for the fatal hour,
And if remote the peril he can bring,
Your preſent danger's greater from the King,
Let not a parent's name deceive your ſenſe,
Nor truft the father in a jealous prince!
Your trivial faults if he could fo refent,
To doom you little lefs than banishment,
What rage must your prefumption fince inſpire ?
Againſt his orders your return from Tyre?
Nor only fo, but with a pomp more high,
And open court of popularity,
The factious tribes-And this reproof from thee?
The prince replies, O ftatefman's winding ſkill,
They firft condemn that firft advis'd the ill!
Illuftrious youth, return'd Achitophel,
Mifconftrue not the words that mean you well.
The courſe you ſteer I worthy blame conclude,
But 'tis becauſe you leave it unpurſu’d.
A monarch's crown with fate furrounded lies,
Who reach, lay hold on death that mifs the prize.
}
Did
Part II.
153
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Did you for this expofe yourfelf to fhow,
And to the croud bow popularly low!
For this your glorious progrefs next ordain,
With chariots, horſemen, and a numerous train.
With fame before you, like the morning ftar,
And ſhouts of joy faluting from afar?
;
Oh from the heights you've reach'd but take a view,
Scarce leading Lucifer could fall like you!
And muft I here my fhipwreck'd arts bemoan ?
Have I for this fo oft made Ifrael groan?
Your fingle intereft with the nation weigh'd,
And turn'd the fcale where your defires were laid!
Even when at helm a courfe fo dangerous mov'd
To land your hopes as my removal prov❜d.
I not difpute, the royal youth replies,
The known perfection of your policies.
Nor in Achitophel yet grudge or blame,
The privilege that ſtateſmen ever claim
Who private intereft never yet purfu'd,
But ftill pretended 'twas for other's good:
What politician yet e'er fcap'd his fate,
Who faving his own neck not fav'd the ſtate?
From hence on ev'ry hum'rous wind that veer'd,
With ſhifted fails a fev'ral courſe you ſteer'd.
What from a fway did David e'er purfue,
That feem'd like abfolute, but fprung from you?
Who at your inftance quafht each penal law,
That kept diffenting factious Jews in awe;
And who fufpends fixt laws, may abrogate,
That done, form new, and fo enflave the ftate.
Ev'n property, whofe champion now you ftand,
And feem for this the idol of the land,
Did ne'er fuftain fuch violence before,
As when your counfel that the royal ſtore ;
Advice, that ruin to whole tribes procur'd,
But fecret kept till your own banks fecur'd.
Recount
154
Part II.
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Recount with this the tripple cov❜nant broke,
And Ifrael fitted for a foreign yoke;
Nor here your counfels fatal progrefs ftaid,
But ſent our levied pow'rs to Pharaoh's aid.
Hence Tyre and Ifrael, low in ruins laid,
And Egypt once their ſcorn, their common terrour made.
Ev'n yet of ſuch a ſeaſon can we dream,
When royal rights you made your darling theme.
For pow'r unlimited could reafons draw,
And place prerogative above the law;
Which on your fall from office grew unjuſt,
The laws made king, the king a flave in truft:
Whom with ſtate-craft, to intereft only true,
You now accuſe of ills contriv'd by you.
To this hell's agent-royal youth, fix here,
Let intereft be the ftar by which you ſteer.
Hence to repoſe your truft in me was wife,
Whoſe intereſt moft in your advancement lies.
A tye fo firm as always will avail,
When friendſhip, nature, and religion fail;
On our's the fafety of the croud depends,
Secure the croud, and we obtain our ends,
Whom I will cauſe ſo far our guilt to ſhare,
Till they are made our champions by their fear,
What oppofition can your rival bring,
While fanhedrims are jealous of the king?
His ftrength as yet in David's friendſhip lies,
And what can David's felf without fupplies?
Who with exclufive bills muft now diſpenſe,
Debar the heir, or ftarve in his defence.
Conditions which our elders ne'er will quit,
And David's juftice never can admit.
Or forc'd by wants his brother to betray,
To your ambition next he clears the way;
For if fucceffion once to nought they bring,
Their next advance removes the preſent king:
4
Perfifling
Part II. ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
155
Perfifting elſe his fenates to diffolve,
In equal hazard fhall his reign involve.
Our tribes, whom Pharaoh's pow'r fo much alarms,
Shall rife without their prince t' oppofe his arms;
Nor boots it on what caufe at firft they join,
Their troops once up, are tools for our defign.
At leaft fuch fubtle covenants fhall be made,
Till peace itſelf is war in mafquerade.
Affociations of myſterious fenfe,
Against, but ſeeming for, the king's defence:
Ev'n on their courts of juftice fetters draw,
And from our agents muzzle up their law.
By which a conqueſt if we fail to make,
'Tis a drawn game at worft, and we fecure our fake,
He faid, and for the dire fuccefs depends
On various fects, by common guilt made friends.
Whoſe heads, though ne'er fo diff'ring in their creed,
I' th' point of treafon yet were well agreed.
'Mongft thefe, extorting Ifhban firft appears,
Purfa'd by a meager troop of bankrupt heirs.
Bleft times when Ifhban, he whofe occupation.
So long has been to cheat, reforms the nation!
Ifhban of confcience fuited to his trade,
As good a faint as ufurer ever made.
Yet Mammon has not fo engroft him quite,
But Belial lays as large a claim of ſpight;
Who, for thofe pardons from his prince he draws,
Returns reproaches, and cries up the cauſe.
That year in which the city he did ſway,
He left rebellion in a hopeful way.
Yet his ambition once was found fo bold,
To offer talents of extorted gold;
Could David's wants have to been brib'd, to fhame
And fcandalize our peerage with his name;
For which, his dear fedition he'd forfwear,
Next
And e'en turn loyal to be made a peer.
:
{
156 ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Part II.
}
Next him, let railing Rabfheka have place,
So full of zeal he has no need of grace;
A faint that can both fleſh and ſpirit uſe,
Alike haunt conventicles and the fews:
Of whom the queftion difficult appears,
If moſt i' th' preachers or the bawds arrears.
What caution cou'd appear too much in him
That keeps the treaſure of Jerufalem!
Let David's brother but approach the town,
Double our guards, he cries, we are undone.
Protefting that he dares not fleep in's bed
Left he fhou'd rife next morn without his head.
"Next thefe, a troop of buſy ſpirits prefs,
Of little fortunes, and of confcience lefs;
With them the tribe, whofe luxury had drain'd
Their banks, in former fequeftrations gain'd;
Who rich and great by paft rebellions grew,
And long to fish the troubled ftreams anew.
Some future hopes, fome prefent payment draws,
To fell their confcience and efpoufe the cauſe,
Such ftipends thofe vile hirelings beſt befit,
Prieſts without grace, and poets without wit.
Shall that falfe Hebronite efcape our curſe,
Judas that keeps the rebels penfion-purſe;
Judas that pays the treafon-writer's fee,
Judas that well deferves his namefake's tree;
Who at Jerufalem's own gates erects
His college for a nurſery of fects.
Young prophets with an early care fecures,
And with the dung of his own arts manures.
I Shall that falje Hebronite efcape our curfe, Robert Fergufon, a
Scotch independent preacher, fubtle, plaufible, bold, and daring;
had for many years preached and writ against the government with
great animofity.
Who at Jerufalem's own gates erects
His college for a nurſery of ſects.
Ferguſon had a chapel near Moorfields, in which he preached to as
great multitudes as new follow Whitefield,
What
Part II.
157
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
What have the men of Hebron here to do?
What part in Ifrael's promis'd land have you!
Here Phaleg the lay-Hebronite is come,
'Cauſe like the rest he cou'd not live at home;
Who from his own poffeffions cou'd not drain
An omer ev'n of Hebronitiſh grain,
Here ftruts it like a patriot, and talks high
Of injur'd fubjects, alter'd property:
An emblem of that buzzing infect juft,
That mounts the wheel, and thinks fhe raiſes duft.
Can dry bones live? or ſkeletons produce
The vital warmth of cuckoldizing juice?
Slim Phaleg could, and at the table fed,
Return'd the grateful product to the bed.
A waiting-man to trav'ling nobles chofe,
He his own laws wou'd faucily impofe,
'Till baſtinado'd back again he went,
To learn thofe manners he to teach was fent.
Chaftiz'd he ought to have retreated home,
But he reads politics to Abfalom.
For never Hebronite, tho' kick'd and fcorn'd,
To his own country willingly return'd.
-But leaving famifh'd Phaleg to be fed,
And to talk treaſon for his daily bread,
Let Hebron, nay let hell produce a man
So made for mifchief as Ben-Jochanan,
A Jew of humble parentage was he,
By trade a Levite, tho' of low degree:
His pride no higher than the defk afpir'd,
But for the drudgery of priests was hir'd
To read and pray in linen ephod brave,
And pick up fingle fhekels from the grave.
Married at laft, but finding charge come fafter,
He could not live by God, but chang'd his mafler:
Infpir'd by want, was made a factious tool,
They got a villain, and we loft a fool.
Still
158
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Part II.
Still violent, whatever caufe he took,
But most against the party he forfook.
For renegadoes, who ne'er turn by halves,
Are bound in confcience to be double knaves.
So this profe-prophet took moſt monftrous pains,
To let his maſters ſee he earn'd his gains.
But as the devil owes all his imps a fhame,
He chofe th' apoftate for his proper theme;
With little pains he made the picture true,
And from reflection took the rogue he drew.
A wond'rous work, to prove the Jewish nation
In every age a murmuring generation;
To trace 'em from their infancy of finning,
And fhew 'em factious from their firſt beginning.
To prove they could rebel, and rail, and mock,
Much to the credit of the chofen flock;
A ftrong authority which muft convince,
That faints own no allegiance to their prince,
As 'tis a leading-card to make a whore,
To prove her mother had turn'd up before.
But, tell me, did the drunken patriarch bleſs
The fon that fhew'd his father's nakednefs?
Such thanks the prefent church thy pen will give,
Which proves rebellion was ſo primitive.
Muft ancient failings be examples made?
Then murderers from Cain may learn their trade.
As thou the heathen and the faint haft drawn,
Methinks th' apoftate was the better man:
And thy hot father, waving my reſpect,
Not of a mother-church but of a fect.
And fuch he needs must be of thy inditing,
This comes of drinking affes milk and writing,
If Balack fhould be call'd to leave his place,
As profit is the loudeft call of grace,
His temple difpoffefs'd of one, would be
Replenish'd with feven devils more by thee.
Levi,
Part II.
159
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Levi, thou art a load, I'll lay thee down,
And thew rebellion bare, without a gown;
Poor flaves in metre, dull and addle-pated,
Who rhime below ev'n David's pfalms tranflated,
Some in my ſpeedy pace I muſt out-run,
As lame Mephibofheth the wifard's fon:
To make quick way I'll leap o'er heavy blocks,
Shun rotten Uzza as I would the pox;
And haften Og and Doeg to rehearſe,
Two fools that crutch their feeble fenfe on verfe;
Who by my mufe to all fucceeding times,
Shall live in fpight of their own dogrel rhimes.
Doeg, tho' without knowing how or why,
Made ftill a blund'ring kind of melody;
Spurr'd boldly on, and dafh'd thro' thick and thin,
Through fenſe and nonſenſe, never out nor in;
Free from all meaning, whether good or bad,
And in one word, heroically mad:
He was too warm on picking-work to dwell,
But fagotted his notions as they fell,
And if they rhim'd and rattled, all was well,
Spiteful he is not, tho' he wrote a fatire,
For till there goes fome thinking to ill-nature:
He needs no more than birds and beafts to think,
All his occafions are to eat and drink.
If he call rogue and rafcal from a garrat,
He means you no more mifchief than a parrat:
The words for friend and foe alike were made,
To fetter 'em in verfe is all his trade.
For almonds he'll cry whore to his own mother:
And call young Abfalom king David's brother.
Let him be gallows-free by my confent,
And nothing fuffer fince he nothing meant;
Hanging fuppofes human foul and reafon,
This animal's below committing treafon :
Shall he be hang'd who never could rebel?
That's a preferment for Achitophel.
160
Part II,
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
The woman that committed buggary,
Was rightly fentenc'd by the law to die;
But 'twas hard fate that to the gallows led
The dog that never heard the ftatute read.
Railing in other men may be a crime,
But ought to pass for mere inftinct in him:
Inftinct he follows and no farther knows,
For to write verſe with him is to tranſproſe.
"Twere pity treafon at his door to lay,
Who makes heaven's gate a lock to its own key:
Let him rail on, let his invective mufe
Have four and twenty letters to abuſe,
Which, if he jumbles to one line of fenfe,
Indict him of a capital offence.
In fire-works give him leave to vent his fpite,
Thoſe are the only ferpents he can write;
The height of his ambition is, we know,
But to be matter of a puppet-fhow,
On that one ſtage his works may yet appear,
And a month's harveſt keeps him all the year.
Now ftop your nofes, readers, all and fome,
For here's a tun of midnight-work to come,
Og from a treafon-tavern rowling home.
Round as a globe, and liquor'd every chink,
Goodly and great he fails behind his link;
With all this bulk there's nothing loft in Og,
For every inch that is not fool is rogue:
A monftrous mafs of foul corrupted matter,
As all the devils had ſpew'd to make the batter,
When wine has giv'n him courage to blafpheme,
He curfes God, but God before curft him;
And if man could have reafon, none has more,
That made his paunch fo rich and him fo poor.
With wealth he was not trufted, for heav'n knew
What 'twas of old to pamper up a Jew;
To what would he on quail and pheafant fwell,
That even on tripe and carrion could rebel?
}
Part II.
161
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
But tho' heaven made him poor, with rev'rence ſpeaking,
He never was a poet of God's making;
The midwife laid her hand on his thick ſkull,
With this prophetic bleffing-be thou dull;
Drink, fwear and roar, forbear no lewd delight
Fit for thy bulk, do any thing but write:
Thou art of lafting make, like thoughtleſs men,
A ſtrong nativity-but for the
pen;
Eat opium, mingle arfenick in thy drink,
Still thou may'ft live, avoiding pen and ink.
I fee, I fee, 'tis counſel given in vain,
For treaſon botcht in rhime will be thy bane,
Rhime is the rock on which thou art to wreck,
'Tis fatal to thy fame and to thy neck:
Why ſhould thy metre good king David blaſt?
A pfalm of his will furely be thy laft.
Dar'st thou prefume in verſe to meet thy foes,
Thou whom the penny pamphlet foil'd in profe?
Doeg, whom God for mankind's mirth has made,
O'er-tops thy talent in thy very trade;
Doeg to thee, thy paintings are fo coarſe,
A poet is, tho' he's the poet's horſe.
A double nooſe thou on thy neck doſt pull
For writing treaſon, and for writing dull;
To die for faction is a common evil,
But to be hang'd for nonſenſe is the devil:
Hadft thou the glories of thy king expreft,
Thy praiſes had been fatire at the beſt;
But thou in clumſy verſe, unlickt, unpointed,
Haft fhamefully defy'd the Lord's anointed:
I will not rake the dunghill of thy crimes,
For who would read thy life that reads thy rhymes ?
But of king David's foes, be this the doom,
May all be like the young man Abſalom;
And for my foes may this their bleffing be,
To talk like Doeg, and to write like thee.'
Vol. I.
M
"
Achitophel
162
Part II.
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Achitophel each rank, degree, and age,
For various ends neglects not to engage;
The wife and rich for purfe and counfel brought,
The fools and beggars for their number fought:
Who yet not only on the town depends,
For even in court the faction had its friends;
Thefe thought the places they poffeft too fmall,
And in their hearts wifht court and king to fall:
Whoſe names the muſe difdaining, holds i' th' dark,
Thruft in the villain herd without a mark;
With parafites and libel-fpawning imps,
Intriguing fops, dull jefters, and worſe pimps.
Difdain the rafcal rabble to purfue,
Their fet cabals are yet a viler crew;
See where involv'd in common ſmoak they fit;
Some for our mirth, fome for our fatire fit:
Theſe gloomy, thoughtful, and on mifchief bent,
While thofe for mere good fellowship frequent.
Th' appointed club, can let fedition paſs,
Senfe, nonfenfe, any thing to employ the glafs;
And who believe in their dull honeft hearts,
The reft talk treafon but to fhew their parts;
Who ne'er had wit or will for miſchief yet,
But pleas'd to be reputed of a fet.
But in the facred annals of our plot,
Induſtrious AROD never be forgot:
The labours of this midnight-magiftrate,
May vie with Corah's to preſerve the ſtate.
In ſearch of arms he fail'd not to lay hold
On war's most powerful dang'rous weapon, gold.
And laſt, to take from Jebufites all odds,
Their altars pillag'd, ftole their very gods;
Oft would he cry, when treaſure he furpriz'd,
'Tis Baalifh gold in David's coin difguis'd.
Which to his houfe with richer reliques came,
While lumber idols only fed the flame:
For
Part II.
16;
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
For our wife rabble ne'er took pains t'enquire,
What 'twas he burnt, fo't made a roufing fire.
With which our elder was enricht no more
Than falfe Gehazi with the Syrian's ftore;
So poor, that when our chufing-tribes were met,
Ev'n for his ſtinking votes he ran in debt;
For meat the wicked, and as authors think,
The faints he chous'd for his electing drink;
Thus ev'ry ſhift and ſubtle method paſt,
And all to be no Zaken at the laſt.
|
Now, rais'd on Tyre's fad ruins, Pharaoh's pride
Soar'd high, his legions threatning far and wide;
As when a batt'ring ftorm ingendred high,
By winds upheld, hangs hov'ring in the ſky,
Is gaz'd upon by ev'ry trembling fwain,
This for his vineyard fears, and that his grain;
For blooming plants, and flow'rs new opening, thefe
For lambs yean'd lately, and far-lab'ring bees:
To guard his ftock each to the gods does call,
Uncertain where the fire-charg'd clouds will fall:
Ev'n fo the doubtful nations watch his arms,
With terror each expecting his alarms.
Where, Judah, where was now thy lyon's roar?
Thou only couldft the captive lands reftore;
But thou, with inbred broils and faction preft,
From Egypt need'ft a guardian with the reft.
Thy prince from fanhedrims no truſt allow'd,
Too much the reprefenters of the croud,
Who for their own defence give no fupply,
But what the crown's prerogatives muft buy:
As if their monarch's rights to violate.
More needful were, than to preſerve the ftate!
From prefent dangers they divert their care,
And all their fears are of the royal heir;
Whom now the reigning malice of his foes,
Unjudg'd would fentence, and e'er crown'd depofe.
M 2
Religion
164
Part I
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Religion the pretence, but their decree
To bar his reign, whate'er his faith ſhall be!
By fanhedrims and clam'rous crouds thus preſt,
What paffions rent the righteous David's breaft?
Who knows not how t' oppofe or to comply,
Unjust to grant and dangerous to deny !
How near in this dark juncture Ifrael's fate,
Whoſe peace one fole expedient could create,
Which yet the extreameft virtue did require,
Even of that prince whofe downfal they confpire?
His abfence David does with tears adviſe
To appease their rage. Undaunted he complies;
Thus he who prodigal of blood and eaſe,
A royal life expos'd to winds and feas,
At once contending with the waves and fire,
And heading danger in the wars of Tyre,
Inglorious now forfakes his native fand,
And like an exile quits the promis'd land!
Our monarch ſcarce from preffing tears refrains,
And painfully his royal ftate maintains,
Who now embracing on the extreameſt ſhore
Almoft revokes what he injoin'd before:
Concludes at laft more truft to be allow'd
To ſtorms and ſeas than to the raging croud!
Forbear, rash mufe, the parting fcene to draw,
With filence charm'd as deep as their's that faw!
Not only our attending nobles weep,
But hardy failors fwell with tears the deep!
The tide reſtrain'd her courfe, and more amaz'd,
The twin-ftars on the royal brothers gaz'd:
While this fole fear
Does trouble to our fuffering hero bring,
Left next the popular rage oppreſs the king!
Thus parting, each for the other's danger griev,
The fhore the king, and feas the prince receiv'd.
Go, injur'd hero, while propitious gales,
Soft as thy confort's breath, inſpire thy fails
Part II.
165
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Well may ſhe truft her beauties on a flood,
Where thy triumphant fleets fo oft have rode!
Safe on thy breaft reclin'd her reft be deep,
Rock'd like a Nereid by the waves aſleep;
While happiest dreams her fancy entertain,
And to Elyſian fields convert the main!
Go, injur'd hero, while the fhores of Tyre
At thy approach fo filent fhall admire,
Who on thy thunder ftill their thoughts employ,
And greet thy landing with a trembling joy.
On heroes thus the prophet's fate is thrown,
Admir'd by every nation but their own;
Yet while our factious Jews his worth deny,
Their aking confcience gives their tongue the lie.
Even in the worſt of men the nobleft parts
Confefs him, and he triumphs in their hearts,
Whom to his king the beſt reſpects commend
Of fubject, foldier, kinfman, prince and friend;
All facred names of moft divine eſteem,
And to perfection all fuftain'd by him,
Wife, juft, and conftant, courtly without art,
Swift to difcern and to reward defert;
No hour of his in fruitless eaſe deſtroy'd,
But on the nobleft fubjects ſtill employ'd:
Whofe fteddy foul ne'er learnt to feparate
Between his monarch's intereft and the ftate,
But heaps thoſe bleffings on the royal head,
Which he well knows muſt be on ſubjects ſhed.
On what pretence could then the vulgar rage
Againſt his worth, and native rights engage?
Religious fears their argument are made,
Religious fears his facred rights invade!
Of future fuperftition they complain,
And jebufitic worship in his reign:
With fuch alarms his foes the croud deceive,
With dangers fright which not themſelves believe.
M 3
Since
༣.
166
Part II.
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Since nothing can our facred rites remove,
Whate'er the faith of the fucceffor prove:
Our Jews their ark ſhall undiſturb'd retain,
At leaſt while their religion is their gain,
Who know by old experience Baal's commands
Not only claim'd their conſcience but their lands;
They grudge God's tythes, how therefore fhall they yield
An idol full poffeffion of the field?
Grant fuch a prince enthron'd, we must confefs
The people's fufferings than that monarch's lefs,
Who muft to hard conditions ftill be bound,
And for his quiet with the croud compound;
Or fhould his thoughts to tyranny incline,
Where are the means to compaſs the defign?
Our crown's revenues are too fhort a ftore,
And jealous fanhedrims would give no more.
As vain our fears of Egypt's potent aid,
Not fo has Pharaoh learnt ambition's trade,
Nor ever with fuch meaſures can comply,
As fhock the common rules of policy;
None dread like him the growth of Ifrael's king,
And he alone fufficient aids can bring;
Who knows that prince to Egypt can give law,
That on our ftubborn tribes his yoke could draw,
At fuch profound expence he has not ſtood,
Nor dy'd for this his hands fo deep in blood;
Would ne'er thro' wrong and right his progrefs take,
Grudge his own reft, and keep the world awake,
To fix a lawleſs prince on Judah's throne,
Firſt to invade our rights, and then his own;
His dear-gain'd conquefts cheaply to deſpoil,
And reap the harvest of his crimes and toil.
We grant his wealth vaft as our ocean's fand,
And curfe its fatal influence on our land,
Which our brib'd Jews fo numerously partake,
'That even an heft his penfioners would make;
From
Part II.
167
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
From thefe deceivers our divifions fpring,
Our weakneſs, and the growth of Egypt's King ;
Thefe with pretended friendſhip to the ftate,
Our croud's fufpicion of their prince create,
Both pleas'd and frighten'd with the fpecious cry,
To guard their facred rights and property;
To ruin, thus the chofen flock are fold,
While wolves are ta'en for guardians of the fold;
Seduc'd by theſe we groundlefly complain,
And loath the manna of a gentle reign:
Thus our forefathers crooked paths are trod,
We trust our prince no more than they their Gođ.
But all in vain our reafoning prophets preach,
To those whom fad experience ne'er could teach,
Who can commence new broils in bleeding ſcars,
And freſh remembrance of inteftine wars;
When the fame houshold mortal foes did yield,
And brothers ftain'd with brothers blood the field;
When fons curft fteel the fathers gore did ſtain,
And mothers mourn'd for fons by fathers flain!
When thick as Egypt's locufts on the ſand,
Our tribes lay flaughter'd thro' the promis'd land,
Whofe few furvivors with worfe fate remain,
To drag the bondage of a tyrant's reign:
Which ſcene of woes, unknowing we renew,
And madly, even thofe ills we fear, purſue;
While Pharaoh laughs at our domeſtic broils,
And fafely crouds his tents with nations fpoils,
Yet our fierce fanherim in reſtleſs rage,
Againſt our abfent heroe ftill engage,
And chiefly urge, fuch did their phrenzy prove,
The only fuit their prince forbids to move,
Which till obtain'd they ccafe affairs of ſtate,
And real dangers wave for groundleſs hate.
Long David's patience waits relief to bring,
With all the indulgence of a lawful king,
M 4
Expecting
168
Part II,
ABSALOM and АçHITOPHEL.
Expecting till the troubled waves would ceafe,
But found the raging billows ſtill increaſe.
The croud, whofe infolence forbearance fwells,
While he forgives too far, almoſt rebels.
At laſt his deep refentments filence broke,
Th' imperial palace fhook, while thus he spoke,
Then Juftice wake, and Rigour take her time,
For lo! our mercy is become our crime.
While halting Puniſhment her ftroke delays,
Our fovereign right, heaven's facred truft, decays?
For whoſe ſupport even ſubjects intereſt calls,
Wo! to that kingdom where the monarch falls.
That prince who yields the leaſt of regal ſway,
So far his people's freedom does betray.
Right lives by law, and law fubfifts by power;
Difarm the fhepherd, wolves the flock devour.
Hard lot of empire o'er a ftubborn race,
Which heaven itſelf in vain has try'd with grace!
When will our reafon's long-charm'd eyes unclofe
And Ifrael judge between her friends and foes?
When fhall we fee expir'd deceiver's fway,
And credit what our God and monarchs fay ?
Diffembled patriots brib'd with Egypt's gold,
Even fanhedrims in blind obedience hold;
Thofe patriots falfhood in their actions fee,
And judge by the pernicious fruit the tree;
If ought for which fo loudly they declaim,
Religion, laws, and freedom, were their aim;
Our fenates in due methods they had led,
To avoid thofe mifchiefs which they feem'd to dread
But first e'er yet they prop'd the finking ſtate,
To impeach and charge, as urg'd by private hate;
Proves that they ne'er believ'd the fears they preft,
But barbarouſly deſtroy'd the nation's reſt!
O! whither will ungovern'd fenates drive,
And to what bounds licentious votes arrive?
When
Part II.
109
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
When their injuftice we are prefs'd to ſhare,
The monarch urg'd to exclude the lawful heir;
Are princes thus diftinguifh'd from the croud,
And this the privilege of royal blood?
But grant we ſhould confirm the wrongs they prefs,
His fufferings yet were than the people's lefs;
Condemn'd for life the murdering fword to wield,
And on their heirs entail a bloody field:
Thus madly their own freedom they betray,
And for th' oppreffion which they fear make way;
Succeffion fix'd by heav'n, the kingdom's bar,
Which once diffolv'd, admits the flood of war ;
Wafte, rapine, fpoil, without th' aſſault begin,
And our mad tribes fupplant the fence within.
Since then their good they will not underftand,
'Tis time to take the monarch's power in hand;
Authority and force to join with fkill,
And fave the lunatics againſt their will.
The fame rough means that fwage the croud, appeafe
Our fenates raging with the croud's diſeaſe.
Henceforth unbiafs'd meaſures let them draw
From no falfe glofs, but genuine text of law;
Nor urge thoſe crimes upon religion's ſcore,
Themſelves fo much in Jebufites abhor.
Whom laws convict, and only they, fhall bleed,
Nor pharifees by pharifees be freed.
Impartial juftice from our throne fhall shower,
All fhall have right, and we our fov'reign power.
He ſaid, th' attendants heard with awful joy,
And glad prefages their fix'd thoughts employ ;
From Hebron now the fuffering heir return'd,
A realm that long with civil difcord mourn'd;
Till his approach, like fome arriving God,
Compos'd and heal'd the place of his abode;
The deluge check'd that to Judea fpread,
And ftop'd fedition at the fountain's head,
Thus
170
Part II.
APSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Thas in forgiving David's paths he drives,
And chas'd from Ifrael, Ifrael's peace contrives.
The field confefs'd his power in arms before,
And feas proclaim'd his triumphs to the fhore;
As nobly has his fway in Hebron ſhown,
How fit to inherit godlike David's throne.
Thro' Sion's streets his glad arrival's fpread,
And conſcious faction fhrinks her fnaky head;
His train their fufferings think o'erpaid to fee
The crouds applaufe with virtue once agree.
Succefs charms all, but zeal for worth diftreft
A virtue proper to the brave and beſt;
'Mongſt whom was Jothran, Jothran always bent
To ferve the crown, and loyal by defcent,
Whofe conftancy fo firm, and conduct juft,
Deferv'd at once two royal maſters truft;
Who Tyre's proud arms had manfully withstood
On feas, and gather'd laurels from the flood;
Of learning yet, no portion was deny'd,
Friend to the mufes and the mufes pride.
Nor can Benaiah's worth forgotten lie,
Of ſteddy foul when public ftorms were high;
Whofe conduct while the Moor fierce onfets made,
Secur'd at once our honour and our trade.
Such were the chiefs who moft his fuff'rings mourn'd,
And view'd with filent joy the prince return'd;
While thofe that fought his abfence to betray,
Prefs first their naufeous falfe reſpects to pay ;
Him fill the officious hypocrites moleft,
And with malicious duty break his reft.
While real tranſports thus his friends employ,
And foes are loud in their diffembled joy,
His triumphs fo refounded far and near,
Mifs'd not his young ambitious rival's ear;
And as when joyful hunters clam'rous train,
Some fiumb'ring lion wakes in Moab's plain,
Who
Part II.
178
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Who oft had forc'd the bold affailants yield,
And ſcatter'd his purſuers thro' the field,
Difdaining, furls his mane and tears the ground,
His eyes enflaming all the defart round,
With roar of ſeas directs his chafers way,
Provokes from far, and dares them to the fray;
Such rage ftorm'd now in Abfalom's fierce breaſt,
Such indignation his fir'd eyes confeft;
Where now was the inftructor of his pride?
Slept the old pilot in ſo rough a tide ?
Whoſe wiles had from the happy ſhore betray'd,
And thus on ſhelves the cred'lous youth convey'd;
In deep revolving thoughts he weighs his ftate,
Secure of craft, nor doubts to baffle fate,
At leaſt, if his ſtorm'd bark muſt go adrift,
To baulk his charge, and for himſelf to ſhift,
In which his dextrous wit had oft been shown,
And in the wreck of kingdoms fav'd his own;
But now with more than common danger preft,
Of various refolutions ftands poffit,
Perceives the croud's unſtable zeal decay,
Left their recanting chief the cauſe betray,
Who on a father's grace his hopes may ground,
And for his pardon with their heads compound.
Him therefore e'er his fortune flip her time,
The ſtateſman plots t'engage in ſome bold crime
Paft pardon, whether to attempt his bed,
Or threat with open arms the royal head,
Or other daring method, and unjuft,
That may confirm him in the people's truft.
But failing thus t'enfnare him, nor fecare
How long his foil'd ambition may endure,
Plots next to lay him by as paſt his date,
And try fome new pretender's luckier fate ;
Whofe hopes with equal toil he would purfue,
Nor cares what claimers crown'd, except the true.
Wakc
172
Part II
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL,
Wake Abfalom, approaching ruin fhun,
And fee, O fee, for whom thou art undone !
How are thy honours and thy fame betray'd,
The property of defp'rate villains made ?
Loft power and confcious fears their crimes create,
And guilt in them was little leſs than fate;
But why ſhouldst thou from every grievance free,
Forfake thy vineyards for their ftormy fea?
For thee did Canaan's milk and honey flow,
Love drefs'd thy bowers, and laurels fought thy brows
Preferment, wealth and power thy vaffals were,
And of a monarch all things but the care.
Oh ſhould our crimes again that curfe draw down,
And rebel-arms once more attempt the crown,
Sure ruin waits unhappy Abfalom,
Alike by conqueft or defeat undone;
Who could relentleſs fee fuch youth and charms,
Expire with wretched fate in impious arms?
A prince fo form'd with earth's and heaven's applaufe,
To triumph o'er crown'd heads in David's cauſe :
Or grant him victor, ftill his hopes muſt fail,
Who conquering would not for himſelf prevail;
The faction whom he trufts for future fway,
Him and the public would alike betray;
Amongst themſelves divide the captive ſtate,
And found their hydra-empire in his fate!
Thus having beat the clouds with painful flight,
The pity'd youth with fcepters in his fight;
So have their cruel politics decreed,
Muft by that crew that made him guilty, bleed!
For could their pride brook any prince's fway,
Whom but mild David would they chufe to obey?
Who once at fuch a gentle reign repine,
The fall of monarchy itſelf defign:
From hate to that their reformations fpring,
And David not their grievance, but the King.
1
Seiz'd
Part II.
173
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Seiz'd now with panick fear the faction lies,
Left this clear truth ftrike Abfalom's charm'd eyes,
Left he perceive from long enchantment free,
What all befide the flatter'd youth muſt fee.
But whate'er doubts his troubled bofom fwell,
Fair carriage ftill became Achitophel.
Who now an envious feftival enftals,
And to furvey their ſtrength the faction calls,
Which fraud, religious worship too muft gild;
But oh how weakly does fedition build?
For lo! the royal mandate iffues forth,
Daſhing at once their treafon, zeal, and mirth!
So have I feen difaftrous chance invade,
Where careful emmits had their forage laid,
Whether fierce Vulcan's rage the furzy plain
Had feiz'd, engendered by fome carelefs fwain;
Or fwelling Neptune lawless inroads made,
And to their cell of ftore his flood convey'd;
The commonwealth broke up, diftracted go,
And in wild hafte their loaded mates o'erthrow:
Even fo our ſcatter'd gueſts confuſedly meet,
With boil'd, bak'd, roaſt, all juſtling in the ſtreets
Dejecting all, and ruefully difmay'd,
For fhekel without treat, or treaſon paid.
Sedition's dark eclipfe now fainter fhows,
More bright each hour the royal planet grows,
Of force the clouds of envy to diſperſe,
In kind conjunction of affifting ſtars.
Here, labouring mufe, thofe glorious chiefs relate,
That turn'd the doubtful fcale of David's fate;
The rest of that illuflrious band rehearſe,
Immortaliz'd in laurel'd Afaph's verfe:
Hard task! yet will not I thy flight recal,
View heaven, and then enjoy thy glorious fall.
Firſt write Bezaliel, whofe illuſtrious name
Foreftals our praife, and gives his poet fame.
3
The
174
Part II.
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
The Kenites rocky province his command,
A barren limb of fertile Canaan's land;
Which for its generous natives yet could be
Held worthy fuch a prefident as he !
Bezaliel with each grace and virtue fraught,
Serene his looks; ferene his life and thought,
On whom ſo largely nature heap'd her ſtore,
There fcarce remain'd for arts to give him more?
To aid the crown and ftate his greateft zeal,
His fecond care that fervice to conceal;
Of dues obfervant, firm to every truſt,
And to the needy always more than juft.
Who truth from fpecious falfhood can divide,
Has all the gownfmens fkill without their pride;
Thus crown'd with worth from heights of honour won,
Sees all his glories copied in his fon,
Whofe forward fame fhould every mufe engage:
Whoſe youth boaſts ſkill deny'd to other's age.
Men, manners, language, books of nobleft kind,
Already are the conqueft of his mind.
Whofe loyalty before its date was prime;
Nor waited the dull courfe of rolling time:
The monſter faction early he diſmay'd,
And David's caufe long fince confefs'd his aid.
Brave Abdael o'er the prophet's fchool was plac'd ;
Abdael with all his father's virtue grac'd ;
A hero, who while ftars look'd wond'ring down,
Without one Hebrew's blood reftor'd the crown.
That praiſe was his; what therefore did remain
For following chiefs, but boidly to maintain
That crown reftor'd; and in this rank of fame,
Brave Abdael with the first a place muſt claim.
Proceed illuſtrious, happy chief, proceed,
Forefeize the garlands for thy brow decreed,
While th' infpir'd tribe attend with nobleft ſtrain
To regifter the glories thou shalt gain ;
For
1
Part II.
175
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
For fure the dew fhall Gilboah's hills forfake,
And Jordan mix his ftream with Sodom's lake;
Or feas retir'd their fecret ftores diſcloſe,
And to the fun their fcaly brood expoſe,
Or fwell'd above the clifts their billows raife,
Before the mufes leave their patron's praife.
Eliab our next labour does invite,
And hard the taſk to do Eliab right:
Long with the royal wanderer he rov'd,
And firm in all the turns of fortune prov'd!
Such ancient fervice and defert fo large,
Well claim'd the royal houfhold for his charge.
His age with only one mild heireſs bleſt,
In all the bloom of fmiling nature dreft,
And bleft again to ſee his flower ally'd
To David's ftock, and made young Othniel's bride?
The bright reftorer of his father's youth,
Devoted to a fon's and ſubject's truth ;
Refolv'd to bear that prize of duty home,
So bravely fought, while fought by Abialom.
A prince! the illuftrious planet of thy birth,
And thy more powerful virtue guard thy worth;
That no Achitophel thy ruin boaſt
Ifrael too much in one fuch wreck has loft.
Even envy muft confent to Helon's worth,
Whofe foul, tho' Egypt glories in his birth,
Could for our captive-ark its zeal retain,
And Pharaoh's altars in their pomp difdain :
To flight his gods was fmall; with nobler pride,
He all the allurements of his court defy'd.
Whom profit nor example could betray,
But Ifrael's friend, and true to David's fway.
What acts of favour in his province fall,
On merit he confers, and freely all.
Our lift of nobles next let Amri grace,
Whofe merits claim'd th' Abethdins high place;
་
Who
175
Part II
ACSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Who with a loyalty that did excel,
Brought all th' endowments of Achitophel.
Sincere was Amri, and not only knew,
But Ifrael's fanctions into practice drew;
Our laws, that did a boundlefs ocean feem,
Were coafted all, and fathom'd all by him.
No rabbin ſpeaks like him their myftic ſenſe,
So juft, and with fuch charms of eloquence:
To whom the double bleffing does belong,
With Mofes' inſpiration, Aaron's tongue.
Than Sheva none more loyal zeal have fhown,
Wakeful as Judah's lion for the crown,
Who for that caufe ftill combats in his age,
For which his youth with danger did engage.
In vain our factious prieſts the cant revive;
In vain feditious fcribes with libel ftrive
T'enflame the croud; while he with watchful eye
Obferves, and fhoots their treafons as they Ay;
Their weekly frauds his keen replies detect;
He undeceives more faft than they infect.
So Mofes when the peft on legions prey'd,
Advanc'd his fignal and the plague was ſtay'd.
Once more my fainting mufe thy pinions try,
And ftrength's exhaufted ftore let love fupply.
What tribute, Aſaph, ſhall we render thee?
We'll crown thee with a wreath from thy own tree!
Thy laurel grove no envy's flaſh can blaſt;
The fong of Afaph fhall for ever laſt.
With wonder late pofterity ſhall dwell
On Abfalom and falfe Achitophel:
Thy ſtrains ſhall be our flumbering prophets dream,
And when our Sion virgins ſing their theme;
Our jubilees fhall with thy verfe be grac'd,
The ſong of Afaph fhall for ever laſt.
How fierce his fatire loos'd; reftrain'd, how tame;
How tender of th' offending young man's fame!
How
1
Part II.
177
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
How well his worth, and brave adventures ftil'd;
Juft to his virtues, to his error mild.
No page of thine that fears the ſtricteft view,
But teems with juft reproof, or praiſe as due;
Not Eden could a fairer profpect yield,
All paradife without one barren field:
Whofe wit the cenfure of his foes has paft,
The fong of Afaph fhall for ever laſt.
What praiſe for ſuch rich ſtrains fhall we allow ?
What juſt rewards the grateful crown beſtow?
While bees in flow'rs rejoice, and flow'rs in dew,
While ftars and fountains to their courſe are true;
While Judah's throne, and Sion's rock ſtand faſt,
The fong of Afaph and the fame ſhall laft.
Still Hebron's honour'd happy foil retains.
Our royal heroes beauteous dear remains;
Who now fails off with winds nor wishes flack,
To bring his fufferings' bright companion back.
But e'er fuch tranfport can our fenfe employ,
A bitter grief muſt poiſon half our joy;
Nor can our coaſts reſtor'd thoſe bleffings fee
Without a bribe to envious destiny!
Curs'd Sodom's doom for ever fix the tide
Where by inglorious chance the valiant dy'd.
Give not infulting Afkalon to know,
Nor let Gath's daughters triumph in our woe!
No failor with the news fwell Egypt's pride,
By what inglorious fate our valiant dy'd!
Weep Arnon! Jordan weep thy fountains dry,
While Sion's rock diffolves for a fupply.
Calm were the elements, night's filence deep,
The waves ſcarce murm'ring, and the winds afleep;
Yet fate for ruin takes fo ftill an hour,
And treacherous fands the princely bark devour;
Then death unworthy feiz'd a generous race,
To virtue's fcandal, and the ſtars difgrace!
N
VOL. I.
Oh!
178
Part IT.
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Oh! had th' indulgent pow'rs vouchfaf'd to yield,
Inſtead of faithlefs fhelves, a lifted field;
A lifted field of heaven's and David's foes,
Fierce as the troops that did his youth oppofe,
Each life had on his flaughter'd heap retir'd,
Not tamely, and unconqu'ring thus expir'd,
But deftiny is now their only foe,
And dying even o'er that they triumph too;
With loud laft breaths their mafter's fcape applaud,
Of whom kind force cou'd fcarce the fates defraud;
Who for fuch followers loft, O matchlefs mind!
At his own fafety now almoft repin'd!
Say, royal Sir, by all your fame in arms,
Your praiſe in peace, and by Urania's charms;
If all your fuff'rings paft fo nearly preſt,
Or pierc'd with half fo painful grief your breaſt?
Thus fome diviner muſe her heroe forms,
Not footh'd with foft delights, but toft in ftorms.
Nor ftretcht on rofes in the myrtle grove,
Nor crowns his days with mirth, his nights with love,
But far remov'd in thund'ring camps is found,
His flumbers ſhort, his bed the herblefs ground:
In tasks of danger always feen the firft,
Feeds from the hedge, and flakes with ice his thirst,
Long muft his patience ſtrive with fortune's rage,
And long oppofing God's themſelves engage,
Muft fee his country flame, his friends deftroy'd,
Before the promis'd empire be enjoy'd :
Such toil of fate muft build a man of fame,
And fuch, to Ifrael's crown, the god-like David came.
What fudden beams difpel the clouds fo faft!
Whoſe drenching rains laid all our vineyards waſte ?
The ſpring ſo far behind her courfe delay'd,
On th' inftant is in all her bloom array'd;
The winds breathe low, the element ferene ;
Yet mark what motion in the waves is feen!
Thronging
:
!
Part II.
179
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Thronging and bufy as Hyblæan fwarms,
Or ftraggled foldiers fummon'd to their arms.
See where the princely bark in looſeſt pride,
With all her guardian fleet, adorns the tide!
High on her deck the royal lovers ftand,
Our crimes to pardon e'er they touch'd our land.
Welcome to Ifrael and to David's breaſt!
Here all your toils, here all your fuff'rings reft.
This year did Ziloah rule Jerufalem,
And boldly all fedition's Syrtes ftem,
Howe'er incumber'd with a viler pair
Than Ziph or Shimei to affift the chair;
Yet Ziloah's loyal labours fo prevail'd
That faction at the next election fail'd,
When ev'n the common cry did juftice found,
And merit by the multitude was crown'd:
With David then was Ifrael's peace reftor'd.
Crouds mourn'd their error, and obey'd their lord.
N 2
A
A
K
E
Y
To both Parts of
ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Abdaal,
Abethdin,
Abfalom,
Achitophel,
Adriel,
Agag,
Amiel,
Amri,
Annabel,
Arod,
Afaph,
Balaam,
Balaak,
Barzillai,
Bathsheba,
Benaiah,
THE
HE Duke of Albemarle, fon
of general Monk.
The name given, through this
poem, to a Lord-Chancellor in
general.
f Duke of Monmouth, natural fon
of King Charles the fecond.
§ Anthony Ashley Cooper, Earl of
Shaftesbury.
John Sheffield, Earl of Mulgrave.
Sir Edmundbury Godfrey.
5 Mr. Seymour, Speaker of the
Houſe of Commons.
2
Sir Heneage Finch, Earl of Win-
chelfea, and Lord-Chancellor.
Duchefs of Monmouth.
Sir William Waller.
A character drawn by Tate for
Dryden, in the fecond part of
this Poem.
Earl of Huntingdon.
Barnet.
Duke of Ormond.
Duchefs of Portſmouth.
General Sackville.
1
Ben
KEY to ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
181
Ben Jochanan,
Bezaliel,
Caleb,
Corah,
David,
Doeg,
Egypt,
Eliab,
Ethnic-Plot,
Gath,
Hebron,
Hebrew Priefts,
Rev. Mr. Samuel Johnfon.
Duke of Beaufort.
Ford, Lord Grey of Werk.
Dr. Titus Oates.
King Charles II.
Elkanah Settle, the city poet.
France.
S Sir Henry Bennet, Earl of Ar-
lington.
The Popish-Plot.
The Land of Exile, more particu-
larly Bruffels, where King
Charles II. long refided.
Scotland.
The Church of England Clergy.
Earl of Feverfham, a Frenchman
by birth, and nephew to Mar-
fhal Turenne.
Hyde, Earl of Rochester.
Papifts.
London.
English.
Sir William Jones, a great lawyer.
Dover.
Saville, Marquis of Hallifax.
Lord Dartmouth.
Helon,
Hufhai,
Jebufites,
Jerufalem,
Jews,
Jonas,
Jordan,
Jotham,
Jothran,
Ifhbofheth,
Ifrael,
Ifachar,
{T
Judas,
Ihban,
Michal,
Nadab,
Mephibofheth,
Richard Cromwell.
England.
Thomas Thynne, Efq; who was
fhot in his coach.
Mr. Ferguſon, a canting Teacher.
J Sir Robert Clayton, Alderman,
and one of the City Members.
Pordage.
Catharine, Queen of Charles II.
Lord Howard of Efcrick.
N 3
Og,
182 KEY to ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.
Og,
Othniel,
Phaleg,
Pharaoh,
Rabfhcka,
Sagan of Jerufalem,
Sanhedrim,
Saul,
Shimei,
Sheva,
Sion,
Solymean Rout,
Tyre,
Uzza,
Zadoc,
Zaken,
Zimri,
Ziloah,
Shadwell.
Henry, Duke of Grafton, natural
fon of King Charles II. by the
Duchefs of Cleveland.
Forbes.
King of France.
J Sir Thomas Player, one of the
City Members.
Dr. Compton, Biſhop of London,
youngeſt fon to the Earl of
Northampton.
Parliament.
Oliver Cromwel.
S Slingsby Bethel, Sheriff of Lon-
don in 1680.
Sir Roger Leftrange.
England.
London Rebels.
Holland.
Jack Hall.
S Sancroft, Archbishop of Canter-
bury.
SA Member of the Houfe of Com-
mons.
Villiers, Duke of Buckingham.
J Sir John Moor, Lord Mayor in
21682.
THE
THE
MED A L.
A
SATIRE
AGAINST
SEDITIO N.
Per Graiûm populos mediæque per Elidis urbem
Ibat ovans, Divúmque fibi pofcebat honores.
*
N 4
no
EPISTLE
W
FOR
TO THE
H I
IG S.
OR to whom can I dedicate this poem, with fo
much juftice as to you? It is the reprefentation
of your own hero: It is the picture drawn at length,
which you admire and prize ſo much in little. None
of your ornaments are wanting ; neither the landſcape
of your Tower, nor the rifing fun; nor the Anno
Domini of your new fovereign's coronation. This
muft needs be a grateful undertaking to your whole
party eſpecially to thoſe who have not been fo happy
as to purchaſe the original. I hear the graver has
made a good market of it: all his kings are bought
up already; or the value of the remainder fo inhanced,
that many a poor Polander who would be glad to
worſhip the image, is not able to go to the coſt of
him: but must be content to fee him here. I muft
confefs I am no great artift; but fign-poft painting
will ferve the turn to remember a friend by; efpecially
when better is not to be had. Yet for your comfort
the lineaments are true: and though he fat not five
times to me, as he did to B. yet I have confulted
hiftory; as the Italian painters do, when they would
draw a Nero or a Caligula; though they have not
feen the man, they can help their imagination by a
ftatue of him, and find out the colouring from Sue-
tonius and Tacitus. Truth is, you might have ſpared
one fide of your Medal: the head would be feen to
more advantage if it were placed on a ſpike of the
Tower,
186
EPISTLE to the WHIGS.
Tower, a little nearer to the fun; which would then
break out to better purpoſe.
You tell us in your preface to the 1 No-proteftant
Plot, that you fhall be forced hereafter to leave off
your modeſty: I fuppofe you mean that little which
is left you; for it was worn to rags when you put out
this Medal. Never was there practifed fuch a piece
of notorious impudence in the face of an eſtabliſhed
government. I believe when he is dead you will
wear him in thumb rings, as the Turks did Scander-
beg; as if there were virtue in his bones to preferve
you againſt monarchy. Yet all this while you pre-
tend not only zeal for the public good, but a due
veneration for the perfon of the king. But all men
who can fee an inch before them, may eafily detect
thofe grofs falacies. That it is neceſſary for men in
your circumflances to pretend both, is granted you;
for without them there could be no ground to raiſe a
faction. But I would aſk you one civil queftion, what
right has any man among you, or any aſſociation of
men, to come nearer to you, who, cut of parliament,
cannot be confidered in a public capacity, to meet as
you daily do in factious clubs, to vilify the govern-
ment in your difcourfes, and to libel it in all your
writings? Who made you judges in Ifrael? Or how
is it confiftent with your zeal for the public welfare,
to promote fedition? Does your definition of loyal,
which is to ferve the king according to the laws,
allow you the licence of traducing the executive
power with which you own he is invefted? You com-
plain that his majefty has loft the love and confidence
of his people; and by your very urging it, you en-
deavour what in you lies to make him loſe them.
1 A pamphlet vindicating lord Shaftesbury from being concern'd
in any plotting defigns against the King; Wood fays, the general
report was, that it was written by the earl himſelf.
2
All
EPISTLE to the WHIGS.
187
All good fubjects abhor the thought of arbitrary
power, whether it be in one or many: if you were
the patriots you would feem, you would not at this
rate incenfe the multitude to affume it; for no fober
man can fear it, either from the king's difpofition
or his practice; or even where you would odiouſly
lay it, from his minifters. Give us leave to enjoy
the government and benefit of laws under which we
were born, and which we deſire to tranfmit to our
pofterity. You are not the truftees of the public li-
berty: and if you have not right to petition in a
croud, much lefs have you to intermeddle in the
management of affairs; or to arraign what you do
not like; which in effect is every thing that is done
by the king and council. Can you imagine that any
reaſonable man will believe you refpect the perfon of
his majeſty, when it is apparent that your feditious
pamphlets are stuffed with particular reflections on
him? If you have the confidence to deny this, it is
eafy to be evinced from a thoufand paffages, which
I only forbear to quote, becaufe I defire they fhould
die and be forgotten. I have perufed many of your
papers; and to how you that I have, the third part
of your No-proteftant Plot is much of it ftolen from
your dead author's pamphlet, called the Growth of
Popery; as manifeftly as Milton's Defence of the
English People is from Buchanan De jure regni apud
Ecotos: or your firit Covenant and new Affociation
from the holy league of the French Guifards. Any
one who reads Davila, may trace your practices all
along. There were the fame pretences for reforma-
tion and loyalty, the fame afperfions of the king, and
the fame grounds of a rebellion. I know not whe-
ther you will take the hiftorian's word, who fays it
was reported, that Poltrot a Hugonot murdered
Francis duke of Guife, by the inftigations of Theo-
dors
188
EPISTLE to the WHIGS.
dore Beza, or that it was a Hugonot minifter, other-
wife called a Prefbyterian, for our church abhors fo
devilish a tenet, who firft writ a treatife of the law-
falnefs of depofing and murdering kings of a diffe-
rent perfuafion in religion; but I am able to prove,
from the doctrine of Calvin, and principles of Bu-
chanan, that they fet the people above the magiftrate;
which, if I miftake not is your own fundamental,
and which carries your loyalty no farther than your
Liking. When a vote of the houſe of commons goes
on your fide, you are as ready to obferve it as if it
were paffed into a law; but when you are pinched
with any former, and yet unrepealed act of parlia-
ment, you declare that in fome cafes you will not be
obliged by it. The paffage is in the fame third part
of the No-proteftant Plot; and is too plain to be de-
ried. The late copy of your intended affociation,
you neither wholly jafify nor condemn; but as the
papifts, when they are unoppofed, fly out into all
the pageantries of worship; but in times of war,
when they are hard preffed by arguments, lie clofe
intrenched behind the Council of Trent: fo now,
when your affairs are in a low condition, you dare
not pretend that to be a legal combination, bat
whenfoever you are afloat, I doubt not but it will be
maintained and juftified to purpofe. For indeed
there is nothing to defend it but the fword: it is the
proper time to fay any thing when men have all
things in their power.
In the mean time, you would fain be nibbling at
a parallel betwixt this affociation, and that in the
time of Queen Elizabeth 2. But there is this fmall
z When England, in the fixteenth century, was fuppofed in
danger from the defiges of Spain, the principal people, with the
Queen at their head, entered into an affociation for the defence of
their country, and of the proteftant religion, against Popery, inva-
fon, and innovation,
difference
EPISTLE to the WHIGS.
189
difference betwixt them, that the ends of the one are
directly opposite to the other: one with the Queen's
approbation and conjunction, as head of it; the other
without either the confent or knowledge of the King,
against whofe authority it is manifeftly defigned.
Therefore you do well to have recourfe to your laft
evafion, that it was contrived by your enemies, and
fhuffled into the papers that were feized; which yet
you ſee the nation is not fo eafy to believe as your
own jury; but the matter is not difficult, to fad
twelve men in Newgate who would acquit a ma-
lefactor.
I have one only favour to defire of you at parting,
that when you think of anfwering this poem, you
would employ the fame pens against it, who have
combated with fo much fuccefs against Abfalem and
Achitophel: for then you may affure yourfelves of a
clear victory, without the leaft reply. Rail at me
abundantly; and, not to break a cuflom, do it with-
out wit: by this method you will gain a confiderable
point, which is wholly to wave the answer of my ar-
guments. Never own the bottom of your princi-
ples, for fear they fhould be treafon. Fall feverely
on the mifcarriages of government; for if fcandal be
not allowed, you are no freeborn fubjects. If God
has not bleffed you with the talent of rhyming, make
ufe of my poor ftock and welcome: let your verſes
run upon my feet: and for the utmost refuge of no-
torious blockheads, reduced to the laft extremity of
feufe, turn my own lines upon me, and in utter
deſpair of your own fatire, make me fatyrize myſelf.
Some of you have been driven to this bay already;
but, above all the reft, commend me to the noncon-
formit parfon, who writ the Whip and Key. I am
afraid it is not read fo much as the piece deferves,
becauſe the bookfeller is every week crying help at
the
190
EPISTLE to the WHIGS.
the end of his Gazette, to get it off. You fee I am
charitable enough to do him a kindneſs, that it may
be publiſhed as well as printed; and that fo much
fkill in Hebrew derivations may not lie for wafte-
paper in the ſhop. Yet I half fufpe&t he went no
farther for his learning, than the index of Hebrew
names and etymologies, which is printed at the end
of fome English bibles. If Achitophel fignify the
brother of a fool, the author of that poem will pafs
with his readers for the next of kin. And perhaps
it is the relation that makes the kindneſs. What-
ever the verſes are, buy them up I beseech you out
of pity; for I hear the conventicle is thut up, and
the brother of Achitophel out of ſervice 3.
Now footmen you know have the generofity to
make a purfe for a member of their fociety, who has
had his livery pulled over his ears: and even pro-
teſtant focks are bought up among you, out of vene-
ration to the name. A diffenter in poetry from fenfe
and Engliſh will make as good a proteftant rhymer,
as a diffenter from the church of England a proteſtant
parfon. Befides, if you encourage a young beginner,
who knows but he may elevate his ftile a little above
the vulgar epithets of prophane, and fawcy Jack,
and atheiſtic fcribler, with which he treats me, when
the fit of enthuſiaſm is ftrong upon him: by which
well-mannered and charitable expreffions I was cer-
tain of his fect before I knew his name. What would
you have more of a man? He has damned me in
your cauſe from Genefis to the Revelations: and has
half the texts of both the Teftaments againſt me, if
you will be fo civil to yourſelves as to take him for
3 George Cooper, Efq; brother to the earl of Shaftesbury, was
married to a daughter of Alderman Oldfield; and, being fettled in
the city, became a great man among the Whigs and fanatics.
your
EPISTLE to the WHIGS.
191
your interpreter; and not to take them for Iriſh wit-
neffes. After all, perhaps you will tell me, that you
retained him only for the opening of your caufe, and
that your main lawyer is yet behind. Now if it fo
happen he meet with no more reply than his prede-
ceffors, you may either conclude that I trust to the
goodnefs of my caufe, or fear my adverfary, or dif-
dain him, or what you pleafe, for the fhort of it is,
it is indifferent to your humble fervant, whatever
your party fays or thinks of him,
*
1
THE
LÆTAMVR
-
24. NOV.1681.
1
M
THE
ED A L.
A SATIRE againft SEDITION.
F all our antick fights and pageantry,
Which Engliſh ideots run in crouds to fee,
The Poliſh Medal bears the prize alone:
A monfter, more the favourite of the town
Than either fairs or theatres have fhown.
Never did art fo well with nature ſtrive;
Nor ever idol feem'd fo much alive:
So like the man; fo golden to the fight,
So baſe within, fo counterfeit and light.
One fide is fill'd with title and with face;
And, left the king fhould want a legal place,
On the reverſe, a tower the town furveys;
O'er which our mounting fun his beams difplays.
}
The
The ME DA L.
193
The word, pronounc'd aloud by fhrieval voice,
Lætamur, which, in Polifh, is rejoice.
The day, month, year, to the great act are join'd:
And a new canting holiday defign'd.
Five days he fat, for every caft and look;
Four more than God to finish Adam took.
But who can tell what effence angels are,
Or how long heaven was making Lucifer?
Oh, could the ſtile that copy'd every grace,
And plough'd fuch furrows for an eunuch face,
Could it have form'd his ever-changing will,
The various piece had tir'd the graver's fkill!
A martial hero firft, with carly care,
Blown, like a pigmy by the winds, to war.
A beardlefs chief, a rebel, e'er a man:
So young his hatred to his prince began.
Next this, how wildly will ambition fteer!
A vermin wriggling in the ufurper's ear.
Bartering his venal wit for fums of gold,
He caft himſelf into the faint-like mould;
Groan'd, figh'd and pray'd, while godlinefs was gain,
The loudest bagpipe of the fqueaking train.
But, as 'tis hard to cheat a juggler's eyes,
His open lewdnefs he cou'd ne'er diſguiſe.
There ſplit the faint: for hypocritick zeal
Allows no fins but thofe it can conceal.
Whoring to fcandal gives too large a ſcope:
Saints must not trade; but they may interlope..
The ungodly principle was all the fame;
But a grofs cheat betrays his partner's game.
Befides their pace was formal, grave, and flack;
His nimble wit outran the heavy pack.
Yet ftill he found his fortune at a ſtay;
Whole droves of blockheads choaking up his way
They took, but not rewarded, his advice;
Villain and wit exact a double price.
VOL. I.
Power
194
The MEDAL.
Power was his aim: but thrown from that pretence,
The wretch turn'd loyal in his own defence;
And malice reconcil'd him to his prince.
Him, in the anguifh of his foul he ferv'd;
Rewarded fafter ftill than he deferv'd.
Behold him now exalted into truſt ;
His counſel's oft convenient, feldom juft.
Even in the moſt fincere advice he gave
He had a grudging ſtill to be a knave.
The frauds he learn'd in his fanatick years
Made him uneafy in his lawful gears.
At best as little honeſt as he could,
And like white witches mifchievouſly good.
To his firft bias longingly he leans;
And rather would be great by wicked means.
Thus fram'd for ill, he loos'd our triple hold 53
Advice unfafe, precipitous, and bold.
From hence thofe tears! that ilium of our woe?`
Who helps a powerful friend, forc-arms a foe.
What wonder if the waves prevail fo far
When he cut down the banks that made the barg
Seas follow but their nature to invade;
But he by art our native ftrength betray'd.
So Sampfon to his foe his force confeft;
And to be ſhorn, lay flumbering on her breaft.
But when this fatal counſel, found too late,
Expos'd its author to the publick hate;
When his juft fovereign, by no impious way
Could be feduc'd to arbitrary fway;
Forfaken of that hope he fhifts his fail,
Drives down the current with a pop'lar galė;
And fhews the fiend confefs'd without a veil.
He preaches to the croud that power is lent,
But not convey'd to kingly government;
سلم
لم
1 Our breaking the alliance with Holland and Sweden, was owing
to the earl of Shaftesbury's advice.
That
The MEDA L.
195
That claims fucceffive bear no binding force,
That coronation oaths are things of courſe;
Maintains the multitude can never err;
And fets the people in the papal chair.
The reafon's obvious; intereft never lies;
The moſt have ftill their intereft in their eyes;
The power is always theirs, and power is ever wife.
Almighty croud, thou ſhorteneft all diſpute,
Power is thy effence; wit thy attribute!
Nor faith nor reafon make thee at a ſtay,
Thou leap'ft o'er all eternal truths in thy pindarick way!
Athens no doubt did righteously decide,
When Phocion and when Socrates were try'd:
As righteously they did thofe dooms repent;
Still they were wife whatever way they went,
Crouds err not, tho' to both extremes they run;
To kill the father, and recal the fon.
Some think the fools were moft as times went then,
But now the world's o'erftock'd with prudent men.
The common cry is even religion's teft,
The Turk's is at Conftantinople beft;
Idols in India; popery at Rome;
And our own worſhip only true at home.
And true, but for the time 'tis hard to know
How long we pleaſe it ſhall continue fo.
This fide to-day, and that to-morrow burns;
So all are God-a'mighties in their turns.
A tempting doctrine, plaufible and new;
What fools our fathers were, if this be true!
Who to deſtroy the feeds of civil war,
Inherent right in monarchs did declare:
And that a lawful power might never ceafe,
Secur'd fucceffion to fecure our peace.
Thus property and fovereign fway, at laſt
In equal balances were juftly caft:
O z
But
106
The ME DA L.
But this new Jehu ſpurs the hot-mouth'd horfe
Inſtructs the beaſt to know his native force;
To take the bit between his teeth and fly
To the next headlong fteep of anarchy.
Too happy England, if our good we knew,
Would we poffefs the freedom we purſue;
The lavish government can give no more:
Yet we repine, and plenty makes us poor.
God try'd us once; our rebel-father's fought,
He glutted them with all the pow'r they fought:
Till mafter'd by their own ufurping brave,
The free-born ſubject funk into a ſlave.
We loath our manna, and we long for quails;
Ah, what is man when his own with prevails!
How rafh, how fwift to plunge himſelf in ill?
Proud of his power, and boundleſs in his will!
That Kings can do no wrong we must believe;
None can they do, and muft they all receive?
Help heaven! or fadly we fhall fee an hour,
When neither wrong nor right are in their power ↑
Already they have loft their beft defence,
The benefit of laws which they difpenfe.
No juftice to their righteous cauſe allow'd;
But baffled by an arbitrary croud.
And medals grav'd their conqueft to record,
The ftamp and coin of their adopted lord.
The man who laugh'd but once to ſee an aſs
Mumbling to make the cross-grain'd thiftles pafs;
Might laugh again to fee a jury chew
The prickles of unpalatable law.
The witneffes, that leech like liv'd on blood,
Sucking for them was med'cinally good;
But when they faſten'd on their fefter'd ſore,
Then justice and religion they forſwore;
Their maiden oaths debauch'd into a whore.
Thus men are rais'd by factions, and decry'd;
And rogue and faint diftinguiſh'd by their fide.
}
The MEDA L.
197
They rack even ſcripture to confefs their cauſe,
And plead a call to preach in fpight of laws.
But that's no news to the poor injur'd page,
It has been us'd as ill in every age:
And is conſtrain'd with patience all to take,
For what defence can Greek and Hebrew make?
Happy who can this talking trumpet feize;
They make it fpeak whatever fenſe they pleaſe!
'Twas fram'd at firft our oracle to enquire;
But fince our fects in prophecy grow higher, infpire.}
The text inſpires not them, but they the text infpire.
London, thou great emporium of our ifle,
O thou too bounteous, thou too fruitful Nile!
How fhall I praiſe or curfe to thy deſert?
Or feparate thy found from thy corrupted part?
I call'd thee Nile; the parallel will ſtand:
Thy tides of wealth o'erflow the fatten❜d land;
Yet monſters from thy large increaſe we find,
Engender'd on the flime thou leav'ft behind.
Sedition has not wholly feiz'd on thee,
Thy nobler parts are from infection free.
Of Ifrael's tribes thou haft a numerous band,
But ftill the Canaanite is in the land.
Thy military chiefs are brave and true;
Nor are thy disenchanted burghers few.
The 2 head is loyal which thy heart commands,
But what's a head with two fuch gouty hands?
The wife and wealthy love the ſureſt way,
And are content to thrive and to obey.
But wiſdom is to floth too great a flave;
None are fo bufy as the fool and knave.
2 The bead is loyal, which the heart commands;
But what's a bead with two fuch gouty hands.
Alluding to the lord--mayor and the two fheriffs: the former Sit
John Moor, being a Tory; the latter Shute, and Pilkington, Fanatics
and Whigs.
03
Thole
198
The MEDA L.
Thoſe let me curfe; what vengeance will they urge,
Whofe ordures neither plague nor fire can purge?
Nor ſharp experience can to duty bring,
Nor angry heaven, nor a forgiving King!
In gofpel-phrafe their chapmen they betray;
Their hops are dens, the buyer is their prey,
The knack of trades is living on the ſpoil;
They boaſt even when each other they beguile.
Cuſtoms to fteal is fuch a trivial thing,
That 'tis their charter to defraud their King.
All hands unite of every jarring fect;
They cheat the country firft, and then infect.
They for God's caufe their monarchs dare dethrone,
And they'll be fure to make his cauſe their own.
Whether the plotting jefuit, lay'd the plan
Of murdering Kings, or the French puritan,
Our facrilegious fects their guides outgo,
And Kings and kingly power would murder too.
What means their traiterous combination lefs,
Too plain to evade, too fhameful to confefs.
But treafon is not own'd when 'tis defcry'd;
Successful crimes alone are juflify'd.
The men who no confpiracy would find
Who doubts but had it taken, they had join'd,
Join'd in a mutual covenant of defence;
At first without, at laſt againſt their prince.
If fovereign right by fovereign power they fcan.
The fame bold maxim holds in God and man:
God were not fafe, his thunder could they fhun
He ſhould be forc'd to crown another fon.
Thus when the heir was from the vineyard thrown,
The rich poffeffion was the murderer's own.
In vain to fophiftry they have recourſe :
By proving their's no plot, they prove 'tis worſe ;
Unmak'd rebellion, and audacious force:
Which tho' not actual, yet all eyes may fee
'Tis working in the immediate power to be;
}
The ME DAL.
199
For from pretended grievances they rife,
First to diflike, and after to defpife.
Then cyclop-like in human flefh to deal,
Chop up a minifter at every meal:
Perhaps not wholly to melt down the King;
But clip his regal rights within the ring.
From thence to affume the power of
peace and war;
And eafe him by degrees of public care.
Yet to confult his dignity and fame,
He fhould have leave to exerciſe the name;
And hold the cards while commons play'd the game.
For what can power give more than food and drink,
To live at eaſe, and not be bound to think?
Thefe are the cooler methods of their crime,
But their hot zealots think 'tis lofs of time;
On utmoſt bounds of loyalty they ſtand,
And grin and whet like a Croatian band;
That waits impatient for the laft command.
Thus outlaws open villainy maintain,
They fteal not, but in fquadrons fcour the plain :
And if their power the paffengers fubdue,
The moſt have right, the wrong is in the few.
Such impious axioms foolishly they ſhow,
For in fome foils republics will not grow:
Our temperate ifle will no extremes fuftain,
Of popular fway or arbitrary reign:
But flides between them both into the beft,
Secure in freedom, in a monarch bleft,
And tho' the climate vex'd with various winds,
Works thro' our yielding bodies on our minds,
The wholeſome tempeft purges what it breeds,
To recommend the calmnefs that fucceeds,
But thou, the pander of the people's hearts,
O crooked foul, and ferpentine in arts,
Whoſe blandiſhments a loyal land have whor'd,
And broke the bonds fhe plighted to her lord;
04
}
}
What
200
The ME DA L.
What curfes on thy blafted name will fall!
Which age to age their legacy thall call and on all}
;
For all muſt curfe the woes that muft defcend on all,
Religion thou haft none: thy Mercury
Has pafs'd thro' every fect, or theirs through thee.
But what thou giveſt, that venom ſtill remains;
And the pox'd nation feels thee in their brains.
What elſe inſpires the tongues and fwells the breaſts
Of all thy bellowing renegado prieſts,
That preach up thee for God; difpenfe thy laws;
And with thy ftum ferment their fainting cauſe?
Fresh fumes of madneſs raife; and toil and ſweat
To make the formidable cripple great.
Yet fhould thy crimes fucceed, fhould lawleſs power
Compass thofe ends thy greedy hopes devour,
Thy canting friends thy mortal foes would be,
Thy God and theirs will never long agree;
For thine, if thou haft any, must be one
That lets the world and human-kind alone:
A jolly god, that paffes hours too well
To promife heaven, or threaten us with hell,
That unconcern'd can at rebellion fit,
And wink at crimes he did himself commit.
A tyrant theirs; the heaven their priesthood paints
A conventicle of gloomy fullen ſaints;
A heaven like Bedlam, flovenly and fad;
Fore-doom'd for fouls, with falſe religion, mad.
Without a viſion poets can foreſhow
What all but fools by common fenſe may know:
If true fucceffion from our ifle fhould fail,
And crouds profane with impious arms prevail.
Not thou, nor thofe thy factious arts engage
Shall reap that harveſt of rebellious rage,
With which thou flattereft thy decrepid age.
The fwelling poifon of the feveral fects,
Which wanting vent, the nation's health infects,
Shall
The MED A L.
201
Shall burst its bag; and fighting out their way
The various venoms on each other prey.
The prefbyter puff'd up with fpiritual pride,
Shall on the necks of the lewd nobles ride:
His brethren damn, the civil power defy;
And parcel out republic prelacy.
But ſhort ſhall be his reign: his rigid yoke
And tyrant power will puny fects provoke ;
And frogs and toads, and all the tadpole train
Will croak to heaven for help, from this devouring crane.
The cut-throat fword and clamorous gown fhall jar,
In fharing their ill-gotten fpoils of war:
Chiefs fhall be grudg'd the part which they pretend,
Lords envy Lords, and friends with every friend
About their impious merit fhall contend.
The furly commons fhall refpect deny,
And juftle peerage out with property.
Their general either fhall his truft betray,
And force the croud to arbitrary fway;
Or they fufpecting his ambitious aim,
In hate of Kings fhall caft anew the frame;
And thruft out Collatine that bore their name.
Thus inborn broils the factions would engage,
Or wars of exil'd heirs, or foreign rage,
Till halting vengeance overtook our age:
And our wild labours wearied into reft,
Reclin❜d us on a rightful monarch's breaſt.
Pudet hæc opprobria, vobis
Et dici potuiffe, & non potuiffe refelli.
RELI-
WWW WW W W WY YW W
RELIGIO LAICI:
OR, A
LAYMAN'S FAITH.
An EPISTLE.
Ornari res ipfa negat, contenta doccre.
sms sa sh sh sh mm MA KA
MÁ IAM
IN M DÁ KR K
THE
PREFACE.
A
Poem with fo bold a title, and a name prefixed
from which the handling of fo ferious a ſubject
would not be expected, may reafonably oblige the
author to fay fomewhat in defence, both of himfelf
and of his undertaking. In the first place, if it be
objected to me that being a layman, I ought not
to have concerned myfelf with fpeculations, which
belong to the profeffion of divinity; I could anfwer,
that perhaps laymen, with equal advantages of parts
and knowledge, are not the moft incompetent judges
of facred things; but in the due fenfe of my own
weakneſs and want of learning I plead not this: I
pretend not to make myſelf a judge of faith in others,
but only to make a confeſſion of my own. I lay no
unhallowed hand upon the ark, but wait on it with
the reverence that becomes me at a distance. In the
next place I will ingenuously confefs, that the helps
I have uſed in this fmall treatife, were many of them
taken from the works of our own reverend divines
of the church of England; ſo that the weapons with
which I combat irreligion, are already confecrated;
though I fuppofe they may be taken down as law-
fully as the fword of Goliah was by David, when
they are to be employed for the common cauſe againß
the enemies of piety. I intend not by this to intitle
them to any of my errors, which, yet I hope are only
thoſe of charity to mankind; and fuch as my own
charity has caufed me to commit, that of others may
more eafily excufe. Being naturally inclined to fcep-
ticifm in philofophy, I have no reafon to impofe my
opinions
206
PREFACE.
opinions in a fubject which is above it; but what-
ever they are, I fubmit them with all reverence to
my mother church, accounting them no further mine,
ihan as they are authoriſed; or at leaſt uncondemned
by her. And, indeed, to fecure myfelf on this fide, I
have uſed the neceffary precaution of fhewing this paper
before it was publiſhed to a judicious and learned
friend, a man indefatigably zealous in the fervice of
the church and ftate; and whofe writings have highly
deferved of both. He was pleaſed to approve the
body of the difcourfe, and I hope he is more my
friend than to do it out of complaifance: it is true
he had too good a tafte to like it all; and amongſt
fome other faults recommended to my fecond view,
what I have written perhaps too boldly on St. Atha-
nafius ¹, which he advised me wholly to omit. I
am fenfible enough that I had done more prudently to
have followed his opinion: but then I could not have
fatisfied myſelf that I had done honeftly not to have
written what was my own. It has always been my
thought, that heathens who never did, nor without
miracle could, hear of the name of Chrift, were yet
in a poffibility of falvation. Neither will it enter
eaſily into my belief, that before the coming of our
Saviour the whole world, excepting only the Jewiſh
nation, fhould lie under the inevitable neceffity of
everlaſting punishment, for want of that revelation,
which was confined to fo ſmall a fpot of ground as that
of Paleſtine. Among the fons of Noah we read of one
only who was accurfed; and if a bleffing in the ripe-
1 St. Athanafius lived in the fourth century: he was patriarch
of Alexandria; his life was a continual warfare with the Arians;
and other hereticks. To fecure himſelf from their rage, he ſpent
fix years in the bofom of a defert. It would be impertinent here
to recite his creed: it is fufficiently known to all chriftians, as
well as the many violent difputes it has occafioned, which are
even at this day kept on foot with great animofity.
nefs
1
PREFACE.
200%
efs of time was referved for Japhet (of whofe pro-
geny we are) it feems unaccountable to me, why fo
many generations of the fame offspring, as preceded
our Saviour in the flesh, fhould be all involved in
one common condemnation, and yet that their poſte-
rity fhould be intitled to the hopes of falvation: as
if a bill of exclufion had paffed only on the fathers,
which debarred not the fons from their fucceffion.
Or that fo many ages had been delivered over to hell,
and fo many reſerved for heaven, and that the devil
had the first choice, and God the next. Truly I am
apt to think, that the revealed religion which was
taught by Noah to all his fons, might continue for
fome ages in the whole pofterity. That afterwards
it was included wholly in the family of Sem is ma-
nifeft; but when the progenies of Cham and Japhet
fwarmed into colonies, and thofe colonies were fub-
divided into many others: in procefs of time their
defcendants loft by little and little the primitive and
purer rites of divine worship, retaining only the no-
tion of one deity; to which fucceeding generations
added others: for men took their degrees in thoſe
ages from conquerors to gods. Revelation being
thus eclipfed to almoſt all mankind, the light of na-
ture as the next in dignity was fubftituted; and that
is it which St. Paul concludes to be the rule of the
heathens, and by which they are hereafter to be
judged. If my fuppofition be true, then the confe-
quence which I have affumed in my poem may be
alfo true; namely, that Deifm, or the principles of
natural worſhip, are only the faint remnants or dying
flames of revealed religion in the pofterity of Noah:
and that our modern philofophers, nay and fome of
our philofophifing divines have too much exalted the
faculties of our fouls, when they have maintained
that by their force, mankind has been able to find
2
Out
£c8
PREFACE.
out that there is one fupreme agent or intellectual
Being which we call God: that praiſe and prayer are
his due worship; and the reft of thofe deducements,
which I am confident are the remote effects of reve-
lation, and unattainable by our difcourfe, I mean as
fimply confidered, and without the benefit of divine
illumination. So that we have not lifted up our-
felves to God, by the weak pinions of our reaſon,
but he has been pleaſed to defcend to us; and what
Socrates faid of him, what Plato writ, and the reft
of the heathen philofophers of feveral nations, is all
no more than the twilight of revelation, after the
fun of it was fet in the race of Noah. That there
is ſomething above us, fome principle of motion,
our reaſon can apprehend, though it cannot difcover
what it is by its own virtue. And indeed it is very
improbable, that we, who by the ftrength of our
faculties cannot enter into the knowledge of any
Being, not fo much as of our own, ſhould be able to
find out by them, that fupreme nature, which we
cannot otherwiſe define than by faying it is infinite;
as if infinite were definable, or infinity a fubject for
our narrow underſtanding. They who would prove
religion by reaſon, do but weaken the cauſe which
they endeavour to fupport: it is to take
is to take away the
pillars from our faith, and to prop it only with a
twig; it is to deſign a tower like that of Babel, which
if it were poffible, as it is not, to reach heaven,
would come to nothing by the confufion of the work-
men. For every man is building a feveral way; im-
potently conceited of his own model and his own
materials reaſon is always ftriving, and always at
a lofs; and of neceffity it muft fo come to pafs, while
it is exerciſed about that which is not its proper ob-
ject. Let us be content at laſt to know God by his
own methods; at leaſt, ſo much of him as he is pleaſed
to
།
PREFACE.
2c9
to reveal to us in the facred fcriptures: to apprehend
them to be the word of God is all our reaſon has to
do; for all beyond it is the work of faith, which is
the feal of heaven impreffed upon our human under-
ſtanding.
And now for what concerns the holy biſhop Atha-
nafius, the preface of whofe creed feems inconfiftent
with my opinion; which is, that heathens may poſ-
fibly be faved: in the first place I defire it may be
confidered that it is the preface only, not the creed
itſelf, which, till I am better informed, is of too
hard a digeſtion for my charity. It is not that I am
ignorant how many feveral texts of fcripture feem-
ingly fupport that caufe; but neither am I ignorant
how all thoſe texts may receive a kindér, and more
mollified interpretation. Every man who is read in
church hiſtory, knows that belief was drawn up after
a long conteftation with Arius, concerning the di-
vinity of our bleſſed Saviour, and his being one fub-
ſtance with the father; and that thus compiled it
was fent abroad among the chriftian churches, as a
kind of teft, which whofoever took was looked on
as an orthodox believer. It is manifeft from hence,
that the heathen part of the empire was not con-
cerned in it; for its bufinefs was not to diſtinguiſh
betwixt Pagans and Chriftians, but betwixt Her ticks
and true Believers. This, well confidered, takes
off the heavy weight of cenfure, which I would wil-
ling avoid from ſo venerable a man; for if this pro-
portion, whofoever will be faved,' be reftrained
only to thoſe to whom it was intended, and for
whom it was compofed, I mean the Chriftians; then
the anathema reaches not the Heathens, who had
never heard of Chrift, and were nothing interefted
in that dispute. After all I am far from blaming
even that prefatory addition to the creed, and as far
VOL. I.
P
from
210
PREFACE.
from cavilling at the continuation of it in the liturgy
of the church, where on the days appointed it is
publickly read: for I fuppofe there is the fame reaſon
for it now, in oppofition to the Socinians, as there
was then againſt the Arians; the one being a Herely,
which feems to have been refined out of the other;
and with how much more plaufibility of reaſon it
combats our religion, with fo much more caution it
ought to be avoided: therefore the prudence of our
church is to be commended, which has interpofed
her authority for the recommendation of this creed.
Yet to fuch as are grounded in the true belief, thofe
explanatory creeds, the Nicene and this of Athana-
fus might perhaps be fpared; for what is fuperna-
tural, will always be a myftery in fpight of expofition,
and for my own part, the plain apoftles creed is moft
fuitable to my weak understanding, as the fimpleft
diet is the most eafy of digeftion.
I have dwelt longer on this fabject than I intended,
and longer than perhaps I ought; for having laid
down, as my foundation, that the fcripture is a rule;
that in all things needful to falvation it is clear, ſuf-
ficient, and ordained by God Almighty for that pur-
poſe, I have left myſelf no right to interpret obſcure
places, fuch as concern the poffibility of eternal hap-
piness to heathens: becauſe whatſoever is obfcure is
cancluded not neceffary to be known.
But, by afferting the fcripture to be the canon of
our faith, I have unavoidably created to myſelf two
forts of enemies: the papifts indeed, more directly,
becauſe they have kept the fcripture from us what
they could; and have referved to themſelves a right
of interpreting what they have delivered under the
pretence of infallibility: and the fanaticks more
collaterally, becauſe they have affumed what amounts
to an infallibility, in the private fpirit: and have
detorted
PREFACE.
211
detorted those texts of fcripture which are not necef-
fary to falvation, to the damnable ufes of fedition,
diſturbance and deftruction of the civil government.
To begin with the papifts, and to ſpeak freely, I
think them the lefs dangerous, at leaſt in appearance
to our preſent ftate, for not only the penal laws are
in force againſt them, and their number is contempti-
ble; but alfo their peers and commons are excluded
from parliament, and confequently thofe laws in not
probability of being repealed. A general and unin-
terrupted plot of their clergy, ever fince the refor-
mation, I fuppofe all proteftants believe; for it is
not reaſonable to think but that fo many of their
orders, as were outed from their fat poffeflions, would
endeavour a re-entrance against thofe whom they ac-
count hereticks. As for the late defign, Mr. Cole-
man's letters, for ought I know, are the beſt evidence;
and what they difcover, without wire drawing their
ſenſe, or malicious gloffes, all men of reafon con-
clude credible. If there be any thing more than this
required of me, I muft believe it as well as I am
able, in fpight of the witneffes, and out of a decent
conformity to the votes of parliament; for I ſuppoſe
the fanaticks will not allow the private ſpirit in this
cafe. Here the infallibility is at leaſt in one part of
the government; and our understandings as well as
our wills are repreſented. But to return to the ro-
man catholicks, how can we be fecure from the
practice of jefuited papiſts in that religion? For not
two or three of that order, as fome of them would
impoſe upon us, but almoft the whole body of them
are of opinion, that their infallible mafter has a right
over Kings, not only in fpirituals but temporals.
Not to name 2 Mariana, Bellarmine, Emanuel Sa,
2 Not to name Mariana, Bellarmine, &c. All Jefuits and contro-
verlial writers in the Roman Catholick church.
P 2
Molina,
212
PREFACE.
Molina, Santare, Simancha, and at least twenty others
of foreign countries; we can produce of our own
nation, Campian, and Doleman or Parfons, befides
many are named whom I have not read, who all of
them attelt this doctrine, that the pope can depofe
and give away the right of any fovereign prince, ft
vel paulum deflexerit, if he fhall never fo little warp:
but if he once comes to be excommunicated, then
the bond of obedienee is taken off from fubjects; and
they may and ought to drive him like another Ne-
buchadnezzar, ex hominum Chriftianorum Dominatu,
from exercifing dominion over Chriftians; and to
this they are bound by virtue of divine precept, and
by all the ties of conſcience under no lefs penalty
than damnation. If they answer me, as a learned
priest has lately written, that this doctrine of the
jefuits is not de fide; and that confequently they are
not obliged by it, they must pardon me, if I think
they have faid nothing to the purpoſe; for it is a
maxim in their church, where points of faith are:
not decided, and that doctors are of contrary opi-
nions, they may follow which part they pleafe; but
more fafely the most received and moft authorized.
And their champion Bellarmine has told the world,
in his apology, that the King of England is a vaffal
to the pope, ratione directi Domini, and that he holds
in villanage of his Roman landlord. Which is no
new claim put in for England. Our chronicles are
his authentic witneffes, that King John was depofed.
by the fame plea, and Philip Auguftus admitted te-
nant. And which makes the more for Bellarmine,
the French King was again ejected when our King.
fubmitted to the church, and the crown was received.
under the fordid condition of a vaffalage.
It is not fufficient for the more moderate and well-
meaning papists, of which I doubt not there are
many,
PREFACE.
213
}
many, to produce the evidences of their loyalty to
the late king, and to declare their innocency in this
plot: I will grant their behaviour in the firft, to have
been as loyal and as brave as they defire; and will
be willing to hold them excufed as to the fecond, I
mean when it comes to my turn, and after my
betters; for it is a madneſs to be fober alone, while
the nation continues drunk: but that faying of their
father Cref. is ftill running in my head, that they
may be diſpenſed with in their obedience to an
heretick prince, while the neceffity of the times fhall
oblige them to it: for that, as another of them tells
us, is only the effect of chriſtian prudence; but when
once they fhall get power to fhake him off, an
heretick is no lawful king, and confequently to rife
againſt him is no rebellion. I ſhould be glad, there-
fore, that they would follow the advice which was
charitably given them by a reverend prelate of our
church; namely, that they would join in a publick
act of difowning and detefting thofe jefuitick princi-
ples; and fubfcribe to all doctrines which deny the
pope's authority of depofing kings, and releafing
fubjects from their oath of allegiance: to which I
fhould think they might eafily be induced, if it be
true that this prefent pope has condemned the
doctrine of king-killing, a thefis of the jefuits main-
tained, amongst others, ex cathedra, as they call it,
or in open confiftory.
Leaving them therefore in ſo fair a way, if they
pleaſe themſelves, of fatisfying all reafonable men of
their fincerity and good meaning to the government,
I fhall make bold to confider that other extreme of
our religion, I mean the fanaticks, or fchifmaticks,
of the English church. Since the Bible has been
tranſlated into our tongue, they have uſed it fo, as if
their bufinefs was not to be faved but to be damned
P 3
by
214
PREFACE.
by its contents. If we confider only them, better
had it been for the English nation, that it had ſtill
remained in the original Greek and Hebrew, or at
least in the honeft Latin of St. Jerome, than that
ſeveral texts in it ſhould have been prevaricated to
the deftruction of that government, which put it into
fo ungrateful hands.
How many herefies the firft tranflation of 3 Tindal
produced in few years, let my lord Herbert's hiftory
of Henry the Eighth inform you; infomuch, that for
the grofs errors in it, and the great mifchiefs it occa-
fioned, a ſentence paffed on the first edition of the
Bible, too fhameful almoft to be repeated. After
the ſhort reign of Edward the Sixth, who had con-
tinued to carry on the reformation on other princi-
ples than it was begun, every one knows that not
only the chief promoters of that work, but many
others, whoſe confciences would not diſpenſe with
popery, were forced, for fear of perfecution, to
change climates: from whence returning at the be-
ginning of queen Elizabeth's reign, many of them
who had been in France, and at Geneva, brought
back the rigid opinions and imperious difcipline of
Calvin, to graft upon our reformation. Which,
though they cunningly concealed at firft, as well
knowing how naufeoufly that drug would go down
in a lawful monarchy, which was prefcribed for a
rebellious commonwealth, yet they always kept it in
reſerve; and were never wanting to themſelves either
in court or parliament, when either they had any
profpect of a numerous party of fanatick members
3 William Tindal, a zealous Lutheran, finiſhed a tranſlation of
the New Teftament in 1527, and afterwards one of the five books
of Mofes, with prefatory expofitions. They were published in
England, but fuppreffed, and the fale and reading of them probi-
bited, anno 1546, by an act of parliament, as being erroneous,
and contributing to turn people's heads.
of
PREFACE.
215
of the one, or the encouragement of any favourite in
the other, whofe covetoufnefs was gaping at the
patrimony of the church. They who will confult
the works of our venerable Hooker, or the account
of his life, or more particularly the letter written to
him on this fubject, by George Cranmer, may fee
by what gradations they proceeded; from the diflike
of cap and furplice, the very next step was admoni-
tions to the parliament againſt the whole government
ecclefiaftical: then came out volumes in Engliſh and
Latin in defence of their tenets: and immediately
practices were fet on foct to erect their difcipline
without authority. Thofe not fucceeding, fatire and
railing was the next: and Martin Mar-prelate, the
Marvel of thoſe times, was the firft prefbyterian
fcribler, who fanctified libels and fcurrility to the use
of the good old caufe. Which was done, fays my
author, upon this account; that their ferious trea-
tifes having been fully anfwered and refuted, they
might compafs by railing what they had loft by rei-
foning; and, when their caufe was funk in court and
parliament, they might at leaft hedge in a fake ·
amongst the rabble: for to their ignorance all things
are wit which are abufive; but if church and ftate
were made the theme, then the doctoral degree of
wit was to be taken at Billingfgate: even the moſt
faintlike of the party, though they durft not excufe
this contempt and villifying of the government, yet
were pleafed, and grinned at it with a pious funile;
and called it a judgment of God against the hierar-
chy. Thus fectaries, we may fee, were born with
terth, foul-mouthed and fcurrilous from their infancy:"
and if fpiritual pridė, venom, violence, contempt of
fuperiors, and flander, had been the marks of or-
thodox belief; the prefbytery and the reft of our
fchifmaticks,
P 4
7
216
PREFACE.
fchifmaticks, which are their ſpawn, were always
the moft vifible church in the chriftian world.
It is true, the government was too ftrong at that
time for a rebellion; but to fhew what proficiency
they had made in Calvin's ſchool, even then their
mouths watered at it: for two of their gifted brother-
hood, 4 Hacket and Coppinger, as the ftory tells us,
got up into a peafe-cart and harangued the people, to
diſpoſe them to an infurrection, and to eſtabliſh their
difcipline by force: fo that however it comes about,
that now they celebrate queen Elizabeth's birth-
night, as that of their faint and patronefs; yet then
they were for doing the work of the Lord by arms
against her; and in all probability they wanted but
a fanatick lord mayor and two ſheriffs of their party,
to have compaffed it.
Our venerable Hooker, after many admonitions
which he had given them, towards the end of his
preface, breaks out into this prophetick ſpeech.
*There is in every one of theſe confiderations moſt
juft caufe to fear, left our haftiness to embrace a
thing of fo perilous confequence, meaning the
prefbyterian difcipline, fhould caufe pofterity to
feel thofe evils, which as yet are more eafy for us
❝ to prevent, than they would be for them to
remedy."
46
4 Hacket was a man of learning; he had much of the faipture
by heart, and made himſelf remarkable by preaching in an enthu-
fiaftick train. In 1591, he made a great parade of fanctity, pre-
tended to divine infpiration, and vifions from God. He was highly
extolled by fome Calvinist minifters, particularly by Coppinger and
Arthington, who, in Cheapfide, proclaimed him a greater proplet
than Mofes, or St. John the Baptift; nav, that he was Chrift hin-
felf come to judge the world; and that they were his affifting pro
phets, one ftiling himſelf the prophet of mercy, the other of jug
ment. Hacket was tried, convicted, and hanged, perfifling with
his laſt breath in the most horrid blafphemies. And Coppinger
ftarved himſelf to death in prifon.
How
PREFACE.
217
How fatally this Caffandra has foretold we know
too well by fad experience: the feeds were fown in
the time of queen Elizabeth, the bloody harveſt
ripened in the reign of King Charles the Martyr:
and becauſe all the heaves could not be carried off
without fhedding fome of the looſe grains, another
crop is too like to follow; nay, I fear it is unavoid-
able if the conventiclers be permitted ſtill to ſcatter,
A man may be fuffered to quote an adverfary to
our religion, when he fpeaks truth: and it is the ob-
fervation of Maimbourg, in his Hiftory of Calvi-
niſm, that wherever that difcipline was planted and
embraced, rebellion, civil war, and mifery, attended
it. And how indeed fhould it happen otherwife?
Reformation of church and ſtate has always been the
ground of our divifions in England. While we were
papifts, our holy father rid us, by pretending autho-
rity out of the fcriptures to depofe princes; when we
fhook off his authority, the fectaries furniſhed them-
felves with the fame weapons; and out of the fame
magazine, the Bible: fo that the fcriptures, which
are in themselves the greatcft fecurity of governors,
as commanding exprefs obedience to them, are now
turned to their deſtruction; and never fince the refor-
mation, has there wanted a text of their interpreting.
to authorize a rebel. And it is to be noted by the
way, that the doctrines of king-killing and depofing,
which have been taken up only by the worst party of
the papifts, the moft frontlefs flatterers of the pope's
authority, have been efpoufed, defended, and are
ftill maintained by the whole body of nonconformifts
and republicans. It is but dubbing themfelves the
people of God, which it is the intereft of their
preachers to tell them they are, and their own intereft
to believe; and after that, they cannot dip into the
Bible, but one text or another will turn up for their
purpose:
218
PREF. A C E.
1
purpoſe: if they are under perfecution, as they call
it, then that is a mark of their election; if they flou-
rish, then God works miracles for their deliverance,
and the faints are to poffefs the earth.
They may think themfelves to be too roughly
handled in this paper; but I who know beſt how far
I could have gone on this fubject, muſt be bold to
tell them they are fpared: tho' at the fame time I am
not ignorant that they interpret the mildness of a
writer to them, as they do the mercy of the govern-
ment; in the one they think it fear, and conclude it
weakneſs in the other. The best way for them to
confute me is, as I before adviſed the Papifts, to dif-
claim their principles and renounce their practices.
We fhall all be glad to think them true Englishmen
when they obey the king, and true Proteftants when
they conform to the church-difcipline.
It remains that I acquaint the reader, that theſe
verſes were written for an ingenious young gentle-
man my friend 5, upon his tranflation of The critical
hiftory of the old teftament, compofed by the learned
father Simon: the verfes therefore are addreffed to
the tranflator of that work, and the ftyle of them is,
what it ought to be, epiftolary.
If any one be fo lamentable a critic as to require
the ſmoothness, the numbers, and the turn of heroic
poetry in this poen; I muſt tell him, that if he has
not read Horace, I have ſtudied him, and hope the
ftyle of his epiftles is not ill imitated here. The ex-
preffions of a pocm defigned purely for inftruction,
ought to be plain and natural, and yet majeftick: for
5 Theſe merfes were written for an ingenious young gertleman, &c.
The fan of the celebrated John Hamborn. He was in the Rye-
Poufe-plot, and fined 15,000l. which we remitted at the revolu-
-ion, but whether or no the tranflation here mentioned was ever
puolihed, I cannot tell.
here
PREFACE,
219
here the poet is prefumed to be a kind of lawgiver,
and thofe three qualities which I have named, are
proper to the legislative ftyle. The florid, elevated
and figurative way is for the paffions; for love and
hatred, fear and anger, are begotten in the foul, by
fhewing their objects out of their true proportion,
either greater than the life or less: but inftruction is
to be given by fhewing them what they naturally are,
A man is to be cheated into paffion, but to be rea-
foned into truth.
炭精
​RELIGIO
RELIGIO LAICI
An EPISTLE.
D
IM as the borrow'd beams of moon and stars
To lonely, weary, wandering travellers,
Is reaſon to the foul: and as on high,
Thofe rolling fires diſcover but the ſky,
Not light us here; fo reafon's glimmering ray
Was lent, not to affure our doubtful way,
But guide us upward to a better day.
And as thofe nightly tapers difappear
When day's bright lord afcends our hemifphere;
So pale grows reafon at religion's fight;
}
So dies, and fo diffolves in fupernatural light.
Some few, whofe lamp fhone brighter, have been led
From caufe to caufe, to nature's fecret head;
And found that one first principle must be:
But what, or who, that univerfal He;
Whether fome foul incompaffing this ball
Unmade, unmov'd; yet making, moving all;
Or various atoms, interfering dance,
Leap'd into form, the noble work of chance;
Or this great all was from eternity;
Not even the Stagirite himself could fee;
And Epicurus guefs'd as well as he:
As blindly grop'd they for a future ſtate;
As rafhly judg'd of providence and fate:
But leaft of all could their endeavours find
What moſt concern'd the good of human kind:
For happiness was never to be found;
But vanish'd from them like enchanted ground.
One thought content the good to be enjoy'd:
1 Als every little accident defroy'd:
}
2
The
RELIGIO LAICI.
227
The wifer madmen did for virtue toil:
A thorny, or at beſt a barren foil:
In pleaſure fome their glutton fouls would ſteep;
But found their line too ſhort, the well too deep;
And leaky veffels which no bli's could keep.
Thus anxious thoughts in endlefs circles roll,
Without a centre where to fix the foul:
In this wild maze their vain endeavours end:
How can the leſs the greater comprehend?
Or finite reafon reach Infinity?
For what could fathom God were more than He.
The Deift thinks he ftands on firmer ground;
el
Cries verza the mighty fecret's found:
God is that spring of good; fupreme, and best
We made to ferve, and in that fervice bleft,
If fo, fome rules of worſhip muſt be given,
Diftributed alike to all by heaven:
Elfe God were partial, and to ſome deny'd
The means his juſtice ſhould for all provide.
This generál worſhip is to praiſe and pray:
One part to borrow bleffings, one to pay:
And when frail nature flides into offence,
The facrifice for crimes is penitence.
Yet fince the effects of providence, we find
Are variouſly difpens'd to human kind;
That vice triumphs, and virtue ſuffers here,
A brand that fovereign juſtice cannot bear;
Our reafon prompts us to a future ftate:
The last appeal from fortune and from fate:
Where God's all-righteous ways will be declar'd;
The bad meet puniſhment, the good reward.
}
Thus man by his own ftrength to heaven would foar:
And would not be oblig'd to God for more.
Vain wretched creature, how art thou miffed
To think thy wit thefe god-like notions brcd!
Thefe truths are not the product of thy mind,
But dropt from heaven, and of a nobler kind.
222
RELIGIO LAICI.
Reveal'd religion first inform'd thy fight,
And reaſon faw not till faith fprung the light.
Hence all thy natural worship takes the fource:
'Tis revelation what thou think'it difcourfe.
Elfe how com'ft thou to fee thefe truths fo clear,
Which fo obfcure to Heathens did appear?
Not Plato thefe, nor Ariftotle found:
Nor he whofe wifdom oracles renown'd.
Haft thou a wit fo deep, or fo fublime,
Or canst thou lower dive, or higher climb ?
Canft thou by reafon more of godhead know
Than Plutarch, Seneca, or Cicero ?
Thofe giant wits in happier ages born,
When arms and arts did Greece and Rome adorn,
Knew no fuch fyftem: no fuch piles could raife
Of natural worship, built on prayer and praife
To one fole God.
Nor did remorse to expiate fin prefcribe:
Bat flew their fellow-creatures for a bribe:
The guiltlefs vi&im groan'd for their offence;
And cruelty and blood was penitence.
If fheep and oxen could atone for men,
Ah! at how cheap a rate the rich might fin!
And great oppreffors might heaven's wrath beguile,
By offering his own creatures for a ſpoil!
Dar'ft thou, poor worm, offend Infinity?
And muft the terms of peace be given by thee?
Then thou art Justice in the laft appeal;
Thy eafy God inftructs thee to rebel:
And like a king remote, and weak, muft take
What fatisfaction thou art pleas'd to make.
But if there be a power too juſt and strong,
To wink at crimes, and bear unpunifh'd wrong;
Look humbly upward, fee his will difclofe
The forfeit first, and then the fine impofe:
A mul& thy poverty could never pay,
Had not eternal wildom found the way:
RELIGIO LAI C I.
223
And with celeftial wealth fupply'd thy ftore:
His juftice makes the fine, his mercy quits the fcore.
See God defcending in thy human frame;
Th'offended fuffering in th' offender's name:
All thy miſdeeds to him imputed fee,
And all his righteouſnefs devolv'd on thee.
For granting we have fin'd, and that th' offence
Of man, is made againft Omnipotence,
Some price that bears proportion muſt be paid;
And infinite with infinite be weigh'd.
See then the Deift loft: remorfe for vice,
Not paid; or paid, inadequate in price:
What farther means can reafon now direct,
Or what relief from human wit expect?
That thews us fick; and fadly are we fure
Still to be fick, till heaven reveal the cure:
If then heaven's will muft needs be understood,
Which muft, if we want cure, and heaven be good,
Let all records of will reveal'd be ſhown;
With fcripture all in equal balance thrown,
And our one facred book will be that one.
Proof needs not here, for whether we compare
That impious, idle, fuperftitious ware
Of rites, 'luftrations, offerings, which before,
In various ages, various countries bore,
With chriftian faith and virtues, we ſhall find
None answering the great ends of human kind
But this one rule of life, that fhews us beft
How God may be appeas'd, and mortals bleft,
Whether from length of time its worth we draw,
The word is fcarce more ancient than the law:
Heaven's early care prefcrib'd for every age;
First, in the foul, and after, in the page.
Or, whether more abstractedly we look,
Or on the writers, or the written book,
}
Whence, but from heaven, could men unskilled in arts,
In feveral ages born, in teveral parts,
224
RELIGIO LAICI.
Weave fuch agreeing truths? or how, or why
Should all confpire to cheat us with a lye?
Unafk'd their pains, ungrateful their advice,
Starving their gain, and martyrdom their price.
If on the book itſelf we caſt our view,
Concurrent heathens prove the ſtory true:
The doctrine, miracles; which muft convince,
For heav'n in them appeals to human fenſe:
And though they prove not, they confirm the caufe,
When what is taught agrees with nature's laws.
Then for the ftile, majeſtick and divine,
It ſpeaks no less than God in every line:
Commanding words; whofe force is ftill the fame
As the firſt fiat that produc'd our frame.
All faiths befide, or did by arms aſcend;
Or fenfe indulg'd has made mankind their friend a
This only doctrine does our lufts oppoſe:
Unfed by nature's foil, in which it grows;
Crofs to our interefts, curbing fenfe, and fin;
Opprefs'd without, and undermin'd within,
It thrives thro' pain; its own tormentors tires ;
And with a ſtubborn patience ftill afpires.
To what can reaſon fuch effects affign
Tranfcending nature, but to laws divine?
Which in that facred volume are contain'd;
Sufficient, clear, and for that uſe ordain'd;
But ftay: the Deift here will urge anew,
No fupernatural worſhip can be true:
Because a general law is that alóne
Which muſt to all, and every where be known:
A ftile fo large as not this book can claim
Nor ought that bears revealed religion's name.
'Tis faid the found of a Meffiah's birth
Is gone thro' all the habitable earth:
But fill that text must be confin'd alone
To what was then inhabited, and known:
And
RELIGIO LAICI.
225
And what proviſion could from thence accrue
To Indian fouls, and worlds difcover'd new?
In other parts it helps, that ages paſt,
The fcriptures there were known, and were embrac'd,
Till fin ſpread once again the ſhades of night:
What's that to theſe who never faw the light?
Of all objections this indeed is chief
To ſtartle reafon, ftagger frail belief:
We grant, 'tis true, that heaven from human fenfe
Has hid the fecret paths of providence:
But boundleſs wifdom, boundless mercy, may
Find even for thoſe bewildred fouls, a way:
If from his nature foes may pity claim,
Much more may ftrangers who ne'er heard his name.
And tho' no name be for falvation known,
But that of his eternal fon's alone;
Who knows how far tranſcending goodneſs can
Extend the merits of that fon to man?
Who knows what reafons may his mercy lead;
Or ignorance invincible may plead ?
Not only charity bids hope the beſt,
But more the great apoſtle has expreft:
That if the Gentiles, whom no law infpir'd,
By nature did what was by law requir'd;
They, who the written rule had never known,
Were to themſelves both rule and law alone:
To nature's plain indictment they ſhall plead;
And by their confcience be condemn'd or freed.
Molt righteous doom! becauſe a rule reveal'd
Is none to thofe from whom it was conceal'd.
Then thoſe who follow'd reafon's dictates right;
Liv'd up, and lifted high their natural light;
With Socrates may fee their Maker's face,
While thouſand rubrick-martyrs want a place.
Nor does it baulk my charity, to find
Th' Egyptian bishop of another mind:
VOL. I.
Que
For
220
RELIGIO LAICI
For though his creed eternal truth contains,
'Tis hard for man to doom to endless pains
All who believ'd not all, his zeal requir'd;
Unless he first could prove he was infpir'd.
Then let us either think he meant to fay
This faith, where publifh'd, was the only way;
Or elfe conclude that Arius to confute,
The good old man too eager in diſpute,
Flew high; and as his chriftian fury roſe
Damn'd all for hereticks who durft oppoſe.
Thus far my charity this path has try’d;
A much unſkilful, but well meaning guide:
Yet what they are, ev'n theſe crude thoughts were bred
By reading that which better thou haft read.
Thy matchless author's work: which thou, my friend,
By well tranflating better doft commend:
Thoſe youthful hours which, of thy equals moft
In toys have fquander'd, or in vice have loft,
Thoſe hours haft thou to nobler ufe employ'd;
And the fevere delights of truth enjoy'd.
Witness this weighty book, in which appears
The crabbed toil of many thoughtful years,
Spent by thy author, in the fifting care
Of rabbins old fophifticated ware
From gold divine; which he who well can fort
May afterwards make algebra a fport.
A treaſure, which if country-curatès buy,
They Junius 1, and Tremellius may defy:
Save pains in various readings, and tranflations;
And without Hebrew make molt learn'd quotations,
A work fo full with various learning fraught,
So nicely pondered, yet ſo ſtrongly wrought,
I Francis Junius, and Emanuel Treme lius, two Calvinist minifters,
who, in the fixteenth century, joined in tranflating the Bible from
Hebrew into Latin. The latter tranflated the New Teftament from
the Syriac, and father Simon criticifes on him in a maflerly manner.
They both left weighty comments on the fcripture,
As
ら
​گو
{
<
RELIGIO LAICI.
As nature's height and arts laft hand requir'd:
As much as man cou'd compaſs, uninſpir'd.
Where we may fee what errors have been made
Both in the copiers and tranflators trade:
How Jewiſh, Popiſh, interefts have prevail'd,
And where infallibility has fail'd.
227
For fome, who have his fecret meaning guefs'd,
Have found our author not too much a prieft:
For fashion-fake he ſeems to have recourfe
To pope, and councils, and traditions force:
But he that old traditions could fubdue,
Could not but find the weakneſs of the new:
If fcripture, though deriv'd from heavenly birth,
Has been but carelefly preferv'd on earth;
If God's own people, who of God before
Knew what we know, and had been promis'd more,
In fuller terms, of heaven's affifting care,
And who did neither time nor ftudy fpare.()?
To keep this book untainted, unperplext,
Let in grofs errors to corrupt, the text,
Omitted paragraphs, embroil'd the ſenſe,
With vain traditions ftopt the gaping fence,
Which every common hand pull'd up with eaſe :
What fafety from fuch brufhwood-helps as thefe ?
If written words from time are not fecur'd,
How can we think have oral founds endur'd?
Which thus tranfmitted, if one mouth has fail'd,
Immortal lyes on ages are intail'd ;
And that fome fuch have been, is prov'd too plain;
If we confider intereft, church, and gain.
O but fays one, tradition fet fide,
Where can we hope for an unerring guide?
For fince th' original fcripture has been loft,
All copies difagreeing, maim'd the moft,
Or chriſtian faith can have no certain ground,
Or truth in church-tradition muſt be found.
Que To
Such
228
RELIGIO LAICI.
Such an omnifcient church we wifh indeed;
'Twere worth both Teftaments; caft in the Creed:
But if this mother be a guide fo fure,
As can all doubts refolve, all truth fecure,
Then her infallibility, as well
Where copies are corrupt or lame, can tell;
Reſtore loft canon with as little pains,
As truly explicate what ftill remains :
Which yet no council dare pretend to do
Unleſs like Efdras they could write it new :
Strange confidence ftill to interpret true,
Yet not be fure that all they have explain'd,
Is in the bleft original contain'd.
More fafe, and much more modeft 'tis, to ſay,
God would not leave mankind without a way:
And that the fcriptures, tho' not every where
Free from corruption, or intire, or clear,
Are uncorrupt, fufficient, clear, intire,
In all things which our needful faith require.
If others in the fame glafs better ſee,
'Tis for themſelves they look, but not for me
For my falvation muft its doom receive,
Not from what others but what I believe.
Muft all tradition then be fet afide?
This to affirm were ignorance or pride.
Are there not many points, fome needful fure
To faving faith, that fcripture leaves 'obfcure?
Which every fect will wreft a feveral way,
For what one fect interprets, all fects' may :
We hold, and fay we prove from fcripture plain,
That Chrift is God; the bold Socinian
From the fame fcripture urges he's but man.
Now what appeal can end th' important fuit;
Both parts talk loudly, but the rule is mute?
Shall I fpeak plain, and in a nation free
Affume an honest layman's liberty?
}
}
I
pav
RELIGIO LAICI.
229
I think, according to my little ſkill,
To my own mother-church ſubmitting ſtill,
That many have been fav'd, and many may,
Who never heard this question brought in play,
Th' unletter'd Chriftian who believes in grofs,
Plods on to heaven; and ne'er is at a loſs:
For the freight-gate would be made ftreighter yet,
Were none admitted there but men of wit.
The few by nature form'd, with learning fraught,
Born to inſtruct as others to be taught,
Muft ftudy well the facred page; and fee
Which doctrine, this or that, does beft agree
With the whole tenor of the work divine:
And plainlieft points to heaven's reveal'd defign:
Which expofition flows from genuine ſenſe;
And which is forc'd by wit and eloquence.
Not that tradition's parts are uſeleſs here:
When general, old, difintereſted and clear :
That ancient fathers thus expound the page,
Gives truth the reverend majefty of age:
Confirms its force by bideing every teſt;
For beft authorities next rules, are beft.
And ſtill the nearer to the ſpring we go
More limpid, more unfoil'd the waters flow.
Thus firft traditions were a proof alone;
Could we be certain fuch they were, fo known 3
But fince fome flaws in long deſcent may be,
They make not truth but probability.
Even Arius and Pelagius durft provoke
To what the centuries preceding ſpoke.
Such difference is there in an oft-told tale:
But truth by its own finews will prevail.
Tradition written therefore more commends
Authority, than what from voice deſcends :
And this, as perfect as its kind can be,
Rolls down to us the facred hiftory:
Q3
Which
༧༣༦
RELIGIO LAICI.
Which from the univerfal church receiv'd,
Is try'd, and after, for itſelf believ'd.
The partial Papifts would infer from hence
Their church, in laft refort, fhould judge the fenfe.
But first they would affume with wond'rous art,
Themſelves to be the whole, who are but part
Of that vaſt frame the church; yet grant they were
The handers down, can they from thence infer
A right t' interpret? or would they alone
Who brought the prefent, claim it for their own ?
The book's a common largefs to mankind?
Not more for them than every man defign'd:
The welcome news is in the letter found;
The carrier's not commiffion'd to expound.
It fpeaks itſelf, and what it does contain,
In all things needful to be known is plain.
In times o'ergrown with ruft and ignorance,
A gainful trade their clergy did advance:
When want of learning kept the laymen low,
And none but priests were authoriz'd to know:
When what ſmall knowledge was, in them did dwell;
And he a God who could but read and ſpell;
Then mother church did mightily prevail :
She parcell'd out the Bible by retail:
But ftill expounded what fhe fold or gave;
To keep it in her power to damn and fave :
Scripture was fcarce, and as the market went,
Poor laymen took falvation on content;
As needy men take money good or bad :
God's word they had not, but the prieſt's they had.
Yet whate'er falfe conveyances they made,
The lawyer ftill was certain to be paid.
In thoſe dark times they learn'd their knack fo well,
That by long uſe they grew infallible:
At laſt a knowing age began t'enquire
If they the book, or that did them infpire:
3
And
RELIGIO LAIC I.
23
And making narrower fearch they found, tho' late,
That what they thought the priest's, was their eftate:
Taught by the will produc'd, the written word,
How long they had been cheated on record.
Then every man who faw the title fair,
Claim'd a child's part, and put in for a ſhare :
Confulted foberly his private good;
And fav'd himſelf as cheap as e'er he could.
'Tis true, my friend, and far be flattery hence,
This good had full as bad a confequence:
The book thus put in every vulgar hand,
Which each preſum'd he beſt could underſtand,
The common rule was made the common prey;
And at the mercy of the rabble lay.
The tender page with horny fifts was gall'd;
And he was gifted moft, that loudeſt baul'd:,
The ſpirit gave the doctoral degree :
And every member of a company
Was of his trade, and of the Bible free.
Plain truths enough for needful ufe they found;
But men would ftill be itching to expound :
Each was ambitious of th' obfcureſt place,
No meaſure ta’en from knowledge, all from grace.
Study and pains were now no more their care;
Texts were explain'd by fafting and by prayer :
This was the fruit the private fpirit brought;
Occafion'd by.great zeal and little thought.
While crouds unlearn'd with rude devotion warm,
About the facred viands buz and ſwarm.
The fly-blown text creates a crawling brood;
And turns to maggots what was meant for food.
A thouſand daily fects rife up and die;
A thouſand more the perifh'd race ſupply:
So all we make of heaven's difcover'd will,
Is not to have it, or to uſe it ill.
Q4.
}
The
132
RELIGIO LAICI.
The danger's much the fame; on feveral fhelves
If others wreck us, or we wreck ourselves.
What then remains, but waving. each extreme,
The tides of ignorance and pride to ſtem?
Neither fo rich a treaſure to forego;
Nor poudly feek beyond our power to know:
Faith is not built on difquifitions vain;
The things we muſt believe are few and plain :
But fince men will believe more than they need ;
And every man will make himfelf a creed:
In doubtful queſtions 'tis the fafeſt way
To learn what unfuſpected ancients ſay :
For 'tis not likely we ſhould higher foar
In ſearch of heaven, than all the church before:
Nor can we be deceiv'd, unleſs we fee
The fcripture and the fathers diſagree.
If after all they ftand fufpected ftill,
For no man's faith depends upon his will;
'Tis fome relief, that points not clearly known,
Without much hazard may be let alone :
And after hearing what our church can fay,
If ftill our reafon runs another way,
That private reafon 'tis more juſt to curb,
Than by diſputes the public peace diſturb.
For points obfcure are of ſmall uſe to learn:
But common quiet is mankind's concern.
Thus have I made my own opinions clear:
Yet neither praiſe expect, nor cenſure fear :
And this unpolish'd rugged verfe I chofe ;
As fitteft for diſcourſe, and neareſt profe:
For while from facred truth I do not fwerve,
Tom Sternhold's, or Tom Shadwell's rhymes will ferve.
THE
GEZNIDCEANED SAND X CAMS CEZAID CEKASS
A
THE
R
T
OF
POETRY.
ADVERTISEMENT.
TH
HIS tranflation of monfieur Boileau's Art of
Poetry was made in the year 1680, by Sir
William Soame of Suffolk, Baronet; who being very
intimately acquainted with Mr. Dryden, deſired his
revifal of it. I faw the manufcript lie in Mr. Dry-
den's hands for above fix months, who made very
confiderable alterations in it, particularly the begin-
ning of the fourth Canto: and it being his opinion
that it would be better to apply the poem to Engliſh
writers, than keep to the French names, as it was
firft tranflated, Sir William defired he would take
the pains to make that alteration; and accordingly
that was entirely done by Mr. Dryden.
The poem was first published in the year 1683;
Sir William was after fent ambaffador to Conftan-
tinople, in the reign of King James, but died in the
voyage.
J. T.
CANTO I.
ASH author, 'tis a vain prefumptuous crime,
R+Set author, the fvered art
To undertake the facred art of rhime;
If at thy birth the ftars that rul'd thy ſenſe
Shone not with a poetic influence;
In thy ftrait genius thou wilt ftill be bound,
Find Phoebus deaf, and Pegafus unfound.
You then that burn with the defire to try
The dangerous courfe of charming poetry;
Forbear in fruitlefs verfe to lofe your time,,
Or take for genius the defire of rhyme :
Fear the allurements of a fpecious bait,
And well confider your own force and weight.
Nature abounds in wits of every kind,
And for each author can a talent find:
One may in verſe deſcribe an amorous flame,
Another fharpen a fhort epigram:
Waller a hero's mighty acts extol,
Spencer fing Rofalind in paftoral:
But authors that themfelves too much efteem,
Lofe their own genius, and miſtake their theme;
Thus in times paft Dubartas vainly writ,
Allaying facred truth with trifling wit,
Impertinently, and without delight,
Defcrib'd the Ifraclites triumphant flight,
And following Mofes o'er the fandy plain,
Perish'd with Pharaoh in th' Arabian main.
Whate'er you write of pleaſant or fublime,
Always let fenfe accompany your rhyme :
Falfely they feem each other to oppofe;
Rhyme muſt be made with reafon's laws to clofe:
And when to conquer her you bend your foice,
The mind will triumph in the noble courfe :
To
236
The ART of POETRY.
To reafon's yoke fhe quickly will incline,
Which, far from hurting, renders her divine :
But if neglected will as eafily ftray,
And mafter reafon which the ſhould obey.
Love reafon then; and let whate'er you write
Borrow from her its beauty, force, and light.
Moft writers mounted on a refty mufe,
Extravagant and fenfelefs objects chufe;
They think they err, if in their verſe they fall
On any thought that's plain or natural:
Fly this excefs; and let Italians be
Vain authors of falfe glitt'ring poetry.
All ought to aim at fenfe; but moſt in vain
Strive the hard paſs and flippery path to gain:
You drown, if to the right or left you ftray;
Reafon to go has often but one way.
Sometimes an author fond of his own thought,.
Purſues its object till it's over-wrought:
If he defcribes a houfe, he fhews the face,
And after walks you round from place to place;
Here is a vifta, there the doors unfold,
Balconies here are balluftred with gold;
Then counts the rounds and ovals in the halls,
"The feftoons, freezes, and the aftragals :"
Tir'd with his tedious pomp away I run,
And ſkip o'er twenty pages to be gone.
Of fuch deſcriptions the vain folly fee,
And fhun their barren fuperfluity.
All that is needlefs carefully avoid;
The mind once fatisfy'd is quickly cloy'd:
He cannot write who knows not to give o'er;
To mend one fault he makes a hundred more:
A verfe was weak, you turn it, much too ſtrong,
And grow obſcure for fear you ſhould be long.
Some are not gaudy but are flat and dry;
Not to be low, another foars too high.
Would
The ART of POETRY.
237
Would you of every one deſerve the praiſe ?
In writing vary your difcourfe and phrafe;
A frozen ftyle that neither ebbs nor flows,
Inſtead of pleafing make us gape and doze.
Thoſe tedious authors are eſteem'd by none
Who tire us, humming the fame heavy tone.
Happy who in his verſe can gently ſteer,
From grave to light; from pleaſant to fevere:
His works will be admir'd where-ever found,
And oft with buyers will be compafs'd round.
In all you write be neither low nor vile:
The meanest theine may have a proper ſtyle.
The dull burlefque appear'd with impudence,
And pleas'd by novelty in fpite of fenſe.
All, except trivial points, grew out of date;
Parnaffus fpoke the cant of Billingfgate:
Boundleſs and mad, diforder'd rhyme was feen:
Difguis'd Apollo chang'd to Harlequin.
This plague which firſt in country towns began,
Cities and kingdoms quickly over-ran;
The dulleft fcribblers fome admirers found,
And the Mock Tempeft was a while renown’d:
But this low ftuff the town at laſt deſpis'd,
And ſcorn'd the folly that they once had priz'd;
Diſtinguiſh'd dull from natural and plain,
And left the villages to Fleckno's reign.
Let not fo mean a ftyle your muſe debaſe;
But learn from Butler the buffooning grace:
And let burlesque in ballads be employ'd;
Yet noify bombaft carefully avoid,
Nor think to raife, tho' on Pharfalia's plain,
"Millions of mourning mountains of the flain :”
I The Tempest being revived at the Duke's theatre in 1675, a
farce called The Mock-Tempeft, or the Inchanted Caſtle, was brought
out at the theatre-roy.l. It was purpofely written in a burlefque
file, and defigned to draw people from the reprefentation of the
Tempeft, which was greatly followed.
Nor
*33
The ART of POETRY
Nor with Dubartas bridle up the floods,
And perriwig with wool the baldpate woods.
Chufe a juft ftyle; be grave without conftraint,.
Great without pride, and lovely without paint:
Write what your reader may be pleas'd to hear;
And for the meaſure have a careful ear.
On eafy numbers fix your happy choice;
Of jarring founds avoid the odious noiſe :
The fulleft verfe and the moſt labour'd ſenſe,
Diſpleaſe us,. if the ear once take offence.
Our ancient verfe, as homely as the times,
Was rude, unmeafur'd, only tagg'd with rhimes
Number and cadence that have fince been fhown,
To thofe unpolish'd writers were unknown.
Fairfax 2 was he, who, in that darker age,
By his juft rules reftrain'd poetick rage;
Spencer did next in Paflorals excel,
And taught the noble art of writing well:
To ftricter rules the ftanza did reſtrain,
And found for poetry a richer vein.
Than D'Avenant came; who, with a new-found art,
Chang'd all,, fpoil'd all, and had his way a-part:
His haughty mufe all others did defpife
And thought in triumph to bear off the prize,
"Till the fharp-fighted criticks of the times
In their Mock-Gondibert expos'd his rhimes ;
The laurels he pretended did refuſe,
And dafh'd the hopes of his afpiring mufe.
This headstrong writer falling from on high,
Made following authors take les liberty.
Waller came laft, but was the firfl whofe art
Juft weight and meaſure did to verfe impart;
That of a well-plac'd word could teach the force,
And fhew'd for poetry a nobler courſe :-
2 Edmund Fairfax flourished in the time of Charles I. He tranf-
lated Godfrey of Bulloign, from the Italian of Taffo, into alternate
verfe and his tranflation is even at this time eflecmed.
His
The ART of POETRY.
239
罐
​His happy genius did our tongue refine,
And eafy words with pleafing numbers join:
His verſes to good method did apply,
And chang'd hard difcord to foft harmony.
All own'd his laws; which long approv'd and try'd,
To prefent authors now may be a guide.
Tread boldly in his fteps, fecure from fear,
And be, like him, in your expreffions clear.
If in your verſe you drag, and fenfe delay,
My patience tires, my fancy goes aſtray;
And from your vain difcourfe I turn my mind,
Nor fearch an author troubleſome to find.
There is a kind of writer pleas'd with found,
Whoſe fuſtian head with clouds is compafs'd round,
No reafon can diſperſe them with its light:
Learn then to think ere you pretend to write.
As your idea's clear, or elſe obfcure,
The expreffion follows perfect or impure:
What we conceive with eafe we can exprefs;
Words to the notions flow with readineſs.
Obferve the language well in all you write,
And fwerve not from it in your loftieft flight.
The fmootheft verfe and the exacteft fenfe
Difpleafe us, if ill English give offence:
A barbarous phrafe no reader can approve;
Nor bombaft, noife, or affectation love.
In short, without pure language, what you write
Can never yield us profit or delight.
Take time for thinking; never work in hafte;
And value not yourſelf for writing faßt.
A rapid poem with fuch fury writ,
Shews want of judgment, not abounding wit.
More pleas'd we are to fee a river lead
His gentle fireams along a flowery mead,
Than from high banks to hear loud torrents roar,
With foamy waters op a muddy there,
3
Gently
24.0
The ART of POETRY.
Gently make hake, of labour not afraid;
A hundred times confider what you've faid:
Polish, repolish, every colour lay,
And ſometimes add, but oftener take away.
"Tis not enough when fwarming faults are writ,
That here and there are ſcatter'd fparks of wit;
Each object muſt be fix'd in the due place,
And differing parts have correfponding grace:
Till by a curious art difpos'd, we find
One perfect whole, of all the pieces join'd.
Keep to your fubject clofe in all you fay;
Nor for a founding ſentence ever ſtray.
The publick cenfure for your writings fear,
And to yourſelf be critic moſt ſevere.
Fantaftick wits their darling follies love;
But find you faithful friends that will reprove,
That on your works may look with careful eyes,
And of your faults be zealous enemies:
Lay by an author's pride and vanity,
And from a friend a flatterer defcry,
Who feems to like, but means not what he ſays:
Embrace true counfel, but fufpect falfe praiſe.
A fycophant will every thing admire:
Each verfe, each fentence fets his foul on fire:
All is divine! there's not a word amifs!
He ſhakes with joy, and weeps with tenderneſs,,
He overpow'rs you with his mighty praiſe.
Truth never moves in thofe impetuous ways:
A faithful friend is careful of your fame,
And freely will your heedlefs errors blame;
He cannot pardon a neglected line,
But verfe to rule and order will confine.
Reprove of words the too-affected found;
Here the fenfe flags, and your expreffion's round,
Your fancy tires, and your difcourfe grows vain,
Your terms improper make them juft and plain.
Thus
The ART of POETRY.
241
Thus 'tis a faithful friend will freedom ufe;
But authors, partial to their darling mufe,
Think to protect it they have juft pretence,
And at your friendly counſel take offence.
Said you of this, that the expreffion's flat?
Your fervant, Sir, you must excufe me that,
This word has here no grace,
He answers you:
Pray leave it out: That, Sir, 's the propereft place.
This turn I like not: 'Tis approv'd by all.
Thus, refolute not from one fault to fall,
If there's a fyllable of which you doubt,
'Tis a fure reaſon not to blot it out.
Yet ſtill he fays you may his faults confute,
And over him your power is abſolute:
But of his feign'd humility take heed;
'Tis a bait laid to make you hear him read.
And when he leaves you happy in his muſe,
Reſtleſs he runs fome other to abuſe,
And often finds; for in our ſcribbling times
No fool can want a fot to praiſe his rhymes:
The flatteft work has ever in the court,
Met with fome zealous afs for its fupport:
And in all times a forward fcribbling fop
Has found fome greater fool to cry him up.
A
CANTO II.
PASTORAL.
Sa fair nymph, when rifing from her bed,
With ſparkling diamonds dreſſes not her head
But without gold, or pearl, or coftly ſcents,
Gathers from neighb'ring fields her ornaments:
VOL. I.
R
Such,
242
The ART of POETRY.
Buch, lovely in its drefs, but plain withal,
Ought to appear a perfect Paftoral:
Its humble method nothing has of fierce,
But hates the rattling of a lofty verſe:
There native beauty pleaſes, and excites,
And never with harſh founds the ear affrights.
But in this ftyle a poet often ſpent,
In rage throws by his rural inftrument,
And vainly, when diforder'd thoughts abound,
Amidst the Eclogue makes the trumpet found:
Pan flies alarm'd into the neighb'ring woods,
And frighted nymphs dive down into the floods.
Oppos'd to this another, low in ftyle,
Makes fhepherds ſpeak a language baſe and vile:
His writings, flat and heavy, without found,
Kiffing the earth, and creeping on the ground;
You'd fwear that I Randal in his ruftic ftrains,
Again was quavering to the country ſwains,
And changing without care of found or dreſs,
Strephon and Phyllis, into Tom and Befs.
'Twixt theſe extremes 'tis hard to keep the right;
For guides take Virgil, and read Theocrite:
Be their just writings by the Gods infpir'd,
Your conftant pattern practis'd and admir'd,
By them alone you'll eaſily comprehend
How poets, without ſhame, may condefcend
To fing of gardens, fields, of flow'rs, and fruit,
To ftir up fhepherds, and to tune the flute;
Of love's rewards to tell the happy hour,
Daphne a tree, Narciffus made a flower.
And by what means the Eclogue yet has power
To make the woods worthy a conqueror:
This of their writings is the grace and flight;
Their rifings lofty, yet not out of fight.
1 Mr. Samuel Johnſon thinks this ſhould be Randolph, BenJohn-
for's adapted fon, who wrote fome paſtorals,
ELEGY,
The ART of POETRY.
243
LE EGY.
E L
The Elegy that loves a mournful ſtyle,
With unbound hair weeps at a funeral pile,
It paints the lovers torments and delights,
A miftrefs flatters, threatens and invites:
But well theſe raptures if you'll make us fee,
You must know love as well as poetry.
I hate thoſe lukewarm authors, whofe forc'd fire
In a cold ſtyle deſcribe a hot defire,
That figh by rule, and raging in cold blood
Their fluggish mufe whip to an amorous mood:
Their feign'd tranfports appear but flat and vain ;
They always figh, and always hug their chain,
Adore their prifon, and their fufferings blefs,
Make ſenſe and reafon quarrel as they pleaſe.
'Twas not of old in this affected tone,
That fmooth Tibullus made his amorous moan;
Nor Ovid, when inftru&ted from above,
By nature's rules he taught the art of love.
The heart in Elegies forms the difcourfe.
OD E.
The Ode is bolder, and has greater force,
Mounting to heaven in her ambitious flight,
Amongst the Gods and heroes takes delight;
Of Pifa's wreſtlers tells the finewy force,
And fings the dufty conqueror's glorious courſe:
To Simois' ftreams does fierce Achilles bring,
And makes the Ganges bow to Britain's king.
Sometimes fhe flies like an induftrious bee,
And robs the flowers by nature's chemistry,
R 2
Defcribes
244
The ART of POETRY.
"
Defcribes the fhepherd's dances, feafts, and bliss,
And boaſts from Phyllis to ſurpriſe a kiſs,
When gently he reſiſts with feign'd remorſe,
That what the grants may feem to be by force:
Her
generous ftyle at random oft will part,
And by a brave diſorder ſhows her art.
Unlike thofe fearful poets, whofe cold rhyme
In all their raptures keep exacteſt time,
That fing th' illuftrious hero's mighty praife
(Lean writers!) by the terms of weeks and days 3
And dare not from leaft circumftances part,
But take all towns by ftricteft rules of art:
Apollo drives thofe fops from his abode;
And ſome have faid that once the humorous god
Refolving all fuch fcribblers to confound,
For the fhort Sonnet order'd this ftrict bound:
Set rules for the juft meaſure, and the time,
The eafy running and alternate rhyme;
But above all, thofe licences deny'd
Which in theſe writings the lame fenfe fupply'd;
Forbade an uſeleſs line fhould find a place,
Or a repeated word appear with grace.
A faultlefs Sonnet, finifh'd thus, would be
Worth tedious volumes of looſe poetry.
A hundred ſcribbling authors without ground,
Believe they have this only phoenix found:
When yet th' exacteft ſcarce have two or three,
Among whole tomes from faults and cenfure free.
The reft but little read, regarded lefs,
Are ſhovell'd to the pastry from the prefs.
Clofing the fenfe within the mcafur'd time,
'Tis hard to fit the reafon to the rhyme.
EPI.
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EPIGRAM.
The Epigram with little art compos'd,
Is one good fentence in a diſtich clos'd.
Theſe points that by Italians firſt were priz'd,
Our ancient authors knew not, or deſpis'd:
The vulgar dazled with their glaring light,
To their falfe pleaſures quickly they invite;
But publick favour fo increas'd their pride,
They overwhelm'd Parnaffus with their tide.
The Madrigal at firft was overcome,
And the proud Sonnet fell by the ſame doom;
With theſe grave Tragedy adorn'd her flights,
And mournful Elegy her funeral rites:
A hero never fail'd them on the ſtage,
Without his point a lover durſt not rage;
The amorous fhepherds took more care to prove
True to his point, than faithful to their love.
Each word like Janus had a double face:
And profe, as well as verſe, allow'd it place:
The lawyer with conceits adorn'd his ſpeech,
The parfon without quibbling could not preach.
At laft affronted reafon look'd about,
And from all ferious matters fhut them out :
Declar'd that none ſhould uſe them without ſhame,
Except a fcattering in the Epigram;
Provided that by art, and in due time
They turn'd upon the thought, and not the rhyme.
Thus in all parts diſorders did abate:
Yet quibblers in the court had leave to prate:
Infipid jefters, and unpleaſant fools,
A corporation of dull punning drolls.
'Tis not, but that fometimes a dextrous muſe
May with advantage a turn'd fenfe abuſe,
R 3
And
246
The ART of POETRY.
And on a word may trifle with addreſs;
But above all avoid the fond excefs ;
And think not, when your verſe and ſenſe are lame,
With a dull point to tag your Epigram.
Each poem his perfection has apart;
The Britiſh round in plainneſs ſhows his art.
The Ballad, tho' the pride of ancient time,
Has often nothing but his humorous rhyme;
The Madrigal may fofter paffions move,
And breathe the tender ecftafies of love.
Defire to fhow itſelf, and not to wrong,
Arm'd Virtue firft with Satire in its tongue.
I R
SAT
E.
Lucilius was the man who, bravely bold,
To Roman vices did this mirror hold,
Protected humble goodneſs from reproach,
Show'd worth on foot, and rafcals in the coach.
Horace his pleaſing wit to this did add,
And none uncenfur'd could be fool or mad:
Unhappy was that wretch, whofe name might be
Squar'd to the rules of their fharp poetry.
Perfius obfcure, but full of ſenſe and wit,
Affected brevity in all he writ:
And Juvenal, learned as thofe times could be,
Too far did ftretch his fharp hyperbole;
Tho' horrid truths thro' all his labours fhine,
In what he writes there's fomething of divine,
Whether he blames the Caprean debauch,
Or of Sejanus' fall tells the approach,
Or that he makes the trembling fenate come
To the ſtern tyrant to receive their doom;
Or Roman vice in coarſeft habits fhews,
And paints an emprefs reeking from the ftews :
In all he writes appears a noble fire;
To follow fuch a mafter then defire,
Chaucer
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Chaucer alone, fix'd on this folid baſe,
In his old style conferves a modern grace:
Too happy, if the freedom of his rhimes
Offended not the method of our times.
The Latin writers decency neglect;
But modern authors challenge our refpect,
And at immodeſt writings take offence,
If clean expreffion cover not the fenfe.
I love fharp Satire, from obfceneneſs free;
Not impudence that preaches modeſty :
Our Engliſh, who in malice never fail,
Hence in lampoons and libels learn to rail;
Pleafant detraction, that by finging goes
you
chuſe
From mouth to mouth, and as it marches grows:
Our freedom in our poetry we ſee,
That child of joy begot by liberty.
But, vain blafphemer, tremble when
God for the fubject of your impious mufe:
At laft, thofe jefts which libertines invent,
Bring the lewd author to juft punishment.
Even in a fong there must be art and ſenſe;
Yet fometimes we have feen that wine, or chance,
Have warm'd cold brains, and given dull writers mettle,
And furnish'd out a ſcene for Mr. Settle 1.
But for one lucky hit, that made thee pleaſe,
Let not thy folly grow to a diſeaſe,
Nor think thyself a wit; for in our age,
If a warm fancy does fome fop engage,
He neither eats nor fleeps till he has writ,
But plagues the world with his adulterate wit,
Nay 'tis a wonder, if in his dire rage,
He prints not his dull follies for the ftage;
And in the front of all his fenfeleſs plays,
Makes 2 David Logan crown his head with bayes.
1 Elkanah Settle, the city poet.
2 David Logan, a noted engraver.
R 4
CANTO
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T
CANTO
TRAGEDY.
III.
HERE's not a monſter bred beneath the ſky
But well-difpos'd by art, may pleaſe the eye;
A curious workman by his ſkill divine,
From an ill object makes a good deſign.
Thus to delight us, Tragedy, in tears
For Oedipus, provokes our hopes and fears:
For parricide Oreſtes aſks relief;
And to encreaſe our pleaſure caufes grief.
You then that in this noble art would rife,
Come; and in lofty verfe difpute the prize.
Would you upon the ftage acquire renown,
And for your judges fummon all the town?
Would you your works for ever fhould remain,
And after ages paft be fought again?
In all you write, obferve with care and art
To move the paffions, and incline the heart.
If in a labour'd act, the pleafing rage
Cannot our hopes and fears by turns engage,
Nor in our mind a feeling pity raiſe
In vain with learned fcenes you fill your plays
Your cold difcourfe can never move the mind
Of a ſtern critic, naturally unkind;
Who juftly tir'd with your pedantick flight,
Or falls afleep, or cenfures all you write,
The ſecret is, attention first to gain;
To move our minds, and then to entertain :
That from the very opening of the ſcenes,
The first may show us what the author means,
;
I'm
The ART of POETRY.
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I'm tir'd to fee an actor on the ſtage,
That knows not whether he's to laugh or rage;
Who, an intrigue unravelling in vain,
Inſtead of pleafing keeps my mind in pain.
I'd rather much the nauseous dunce should fay
Downright, my name is Hector in the play;
Than with a maſs of miracles, ill-join'd,
Confound my ears and not inſtruct my mind.
The fubject's never foon enough expreft;
Your place of action muſt be fix'd, and reſt.
A Spanish poet may with good event,
In one day's fpace whole ages reprefent;
There oft the hero of a wandering ſtage
Begins a child, and ends the play of age:
But we that are by reafon's rules confin'd,
Will, that with art the poem be defign'd,
That unity of action, time, and place,
Keep the stage full, and all our labours grace.
Write not what cannot be with eaſe conceiv'd ;
Some truths may be too ftrong to be believ'd.
A foolish wonder cannot entertain ;
My mind's not mov'd if your diſcourſe be vain,
You may relate what would offend the eye;
Seeing, indeed, would better fatisfy;
But there are objects that a curious art
Hides from the eyes, yet offers to the heart.
The mind is moft agreeably furpris'd,
When a well-woven fubject, long difguis'd,
You on a fudden artfully unfold,
And give the whole another face and mould.
At first the Tragedy was void of art;
A fong; where each man danc'd and fung his part.
And of God Bacchus roaring out the praife,
Sought a good vintage for their jolly days:
Then wine and joy were feen in each man's eyes,
And a fat goat was the beft finger's prize.
Thelpis
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The ART of POETRY.
Thefpis was firft, who, all befmear'd with lee,
Began this pleaſure for poſterity:
And with his carted actors, and a fong,
Amus'd the people as he paſs'd along.
Next Æfchylus the different perfons plac'd,
And with a better maſk his players grac'd :
Upon a theatre his verfe exprefs'd,
And show'd his hero with a bufkin drefs'd.
Then Sophocles, the genius of his age,
Increas'd the pomp and beauty of the ftage,
Ingag'd the chorus fong in every part,
And polish'd rugged verfe by rules of art;
He in the Greek did thoſe perfections gain,
Which the weak Latin never could attain,
Our pious fathers, in their prieft-rid age,
As impious and prophane, abhorr'd the ſtage:
A troop of filly pilgrims, as 'tis faid,
Foolishly zealous, fcandaloufly play'd
Inſtead of heroes, and of love's complaints,
The angels, God, the virgin, and the faints.
At laft, right reaſon did his laws reveal,
And ſhow'd the folly of their ill-plac'd zeal,
Silenc'd thoſe nonconformifts of the age,
And rais'd the lawful heroes of the ſtage :
Only the Athenian maſk was laid aſide,
And chorus by the mufic was fupply'd.
Ingenious love, inventive in new arts,
Mingled in plays, and quickly touch'd our hearts:
This paffion never could refiftance find,
But knows the ſhorteſt paſſage to the mind.
Paint then, I'm pleas'd my hero be in love:
But let him not like a tame ſhepherd move;
Let not Achilles be like Thyrfis feen,
Or for a Cyrus fhow an Artamen;
That ſtruggling oft his paffions we may find,
The frailty, not the virtue of his mind.
Of
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Of romance heroes fhun the low defign;
Yet to great hearts fome human frailties join;
Achilles muft with Homer's heat engage;
For an affront I'm pleas'd to ſee him rage.
Thofe little failings in your hero's heart
Show that of man and nature he has part:
To leave known rules you cannot be allow'd;
Make Agamemnon covetous and proud.
Æneas in religious rites auftere,
Keep to each man his proper character.
Of countries and of times the humours know
From different climates different customs grow :
And ſtrive to fhun their fault who vainly dreſs
An antique hero like fome modern aſs ;
Who make old Romans like our English move,
Show Cato fparkiſh, or make Brutus love.
In a romance thofe errors are excus'd;
There 'tis enough that, reading, we're amus'd:
Rules too fevere would there be uſeleſs found;
But the ftri& fcene must have a jufter bound:
Exact decorum we muſt always find.
If then you form fome hero in your mind,
Be ſure your image with itfelf agree;
For what he firſt appears, he ſtill muſt be.
Affected wits will naturally incline
To paint their figures by their own defign:
Your bully poets, bully heroes write :
Chapman in Buffy D'Ambois took delight,
And thought perfection was to huff and fight.
Wife nature by variety does pleaſe;
Cloath differing paffions in a differing dreſs:
Bold anger, in rough haughty words appears;
Sorrow is humble, and diffolves in tears.
Make not your Hecuba with fury rage,
And ſhow a ranting grief upon the ſtage;
Or tell in vain how the rough Tanais bore
His fevenfold waters to the Euxine fhore :
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The ART of POETRY.
Theſe ſwoln expreffions, this affected noiſe,
Shows like ſome pedant that declaims to boys.
In forrow you muſt fofter methods keep;
And to excite our tears yourſelf muſt weep.
Thoſe noify words with which ill plays abound,
Come not from hearts that are in fadnefs drown'd.
The theatre for a young poet's rhimes
Is a bold venture in our knowing times :
An author cannot eafily purchaſe fame;
Critics are always apt to hifs, and blame:
You may be judg'd by every afs in town,
The privilege is bought for half a crown.
To pleaſe, you muſt a hundred changes try;
Sometimes be humble, then muſt foar on high:
In noble thoughts muft every where abound,
Be eaſy, pleaſant, folid, and profound :
To theſe you muſt ſurpriſing touches join,
And fhow us a new wonder in each line;
That all, in a juft method well-defign'd,
May leave a ſtrong impreffion in the mind.
Theſe are the arts that tragedy maintain:
The EPI C.
But the Heroic claims a'loftier ftrain.
In the narration of ſome great deſign,
Invention, art, and fable, all muſt join :
Here fiction muft employ its utmoſt grace;
All muſt affume a body, mind, and face:
Each virtue a divinity is ſeen;
Prudence is Pallas, beauty Paphos' Queen.
'Tis not a cloud from whence fwift lightnings fly;
But Jupiter, that thunders from the ſky :
Nor a rough ftorm that gives the failor pain;
But angry Neptune plowing up the main:
Echo's
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Echo's no more an empty airy found;
But a fair nymph that weeps her lover drown'd.
Thus in the endleſs treaſure of his mind,
The poet does a thouſand figures find,
Around the work his ornaments he pours,
And ftrows with laviſh hand his opening flowers,
'Tis not a wonder if a tempeft bore
The Trojan fleet against the Libyan fhore;
From faithlefs fortune this is no furprize,
For every day 'tis common to our eyes ;
But angry Juno, that fhe might deſtroy,
And overwhelm the reft of ruin'd Troy :
That Æolus with the fierce goddeſs join'd,
Open'd the hollow prifons of the wind;
Till angry Neptune looking o'er the main,
Rebukes the tempeft, calms the waves again,
Their veffels from the dangerous quickfands fteers ;
Thefe are the ſprings that move our hopes and fears 3
Without theſe ornaments before our eyes,
Th' unfinew'd poem languiſhes and dies:
Your poet in his art will always fail,
And tell you but a dull infipid tale.
In vain have our miſtaken authors try'd
To lay theſe ancient ornaments afide,
Thinking our God, and prophets that he fent,
Might act like thofe the poets did invent,
To fright poor readers in each line with hell,
And talk of Satan, Afhtaroth, and Bel;
The mysteries which Chriftians must believe,
Disdain fuch shifting pageants to receive:
The gofpel offers nothing to our thoughts.
But penitence, or puniſhment for faults ;
And mingling falfhoods with thofe myfteries,
Would make our facred truths appear like lies.
Befides, what pleaſure can it be to hear
The howlings of repining Lucifer,
Whofe
254
The ART of FOETRY.
1
Whofe rage at your imagin'd hero flies,
And aft with God himſelf difputes the prize?
Taffo you'll fay has done it with applauſe?
It is not here I mean to judge his cauſe;
Yet tho' our age has fo extoll'd his name,
His works had never gain'd immortal fame,
If holy Godfrey in his ecftafies
Had only conquer'd Satan on his knees;
If Tancred and Armida's pleaſing form
Did not his melancholy theme adorn.
'Tis not, that chriftian poems ought to be
Fill'd with the fictions of idolatry ;
But in a common ſubject to reject
The gods, and heathen ornaments neglect;
To banish Tritons who the ſeas invade,
To take Pan's whiftle, or the fates degrade,
To hinder Charon in his leaky boat
To pass the fhepherd with the man of note,
Is with vain fcruples to diſturb your mind,
And fearch perfection you can never find;
As well they may, forbid us to prefent.
Prudence or juſtice for an ornament,
To paint old Janus with his front of brafs,
And take from time his fcythe, his wings and glass,
And every where as 'twere idolatry,
Baniſh deſcriptions from our poetry.
Leave them their pious follies to purfue;
But let our reafon fuch vain fears fubdue:
1
And let us not, amongst our vanities,
Of the true God create a God of lies.
In fable we a thouſand pleafures fee,
And the ſmooth names feem made for poetry;
As Hector, Alexander, Helen, Phyllis,
Ulyffes, Agamemnon, and Achilles :
In fuch a croud, the poet were to blame
To chufe King Chilperic for his hero's name.
3
Sometimes
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Sometimes the name being well or ill apply'd,
Will the whole fortune of your work decide.
Would you your reader never ſhould be tir'd ?
Chufe fome great hero fit to be admir'd,
In courage fignal,' and in virtue bright,
Let e'en his very failings give delight;
Let his great actions our attention bind,
Like Cæfar, or like Scipio, frame his mind,
And not like Oedipus his perjur'd race;
A common conqueror is a theme too baſe.
Chuſe not your tale of accidents too full;
Too much variety may make it dull:
Achilles' rage alone, when wrought with ſkill,
Abundantly does a whole Iliad fill.
Be your narrations lively, fhort, and fmart;
In your defcriptions fhow your nobleft art:
There 'tis your poetry may be employ'd;
Yet you must trivial accidents avoid.
Nor imitate that fool, who, to deſcribe
The wond'rous marches of the choſen tribe,
Plac'd on the fides to fee their armies paſs,
The fishes ftaring thro' the liquid glass;
Defcrib'd a child, who with his little hand,
Pick'd up the fhining pebbles from the fand.
Such objects are too mean to ſtay our fight;
Allow your work a juſt and nobler flight.
Be your beginning plain; and take good heed
Too foon you mount not on the airy fteed;
Nor tell your reader in a thund'ring verſe,
"I fing the conqueror of the univerſe.”
What can an author after this produce?
The labouring mountain muft bring forth a mouſe.
Much better are we pleas'd with his addrefs,
Who, without making fuch vaft promiſes,
Says in an eaſier ftyle and plainer fenfe,
"Ifing the combats of that pious prince
« Who
256
The ART of POETRY.
"Who from the Phrygian coaft his armies bore,
"And landed firft on the Lavinian fhore."
His opening mufe fets not the world on fire,
And yet performs more than we can require :
Quickly you'll hear him celebrate the fame,
And future glory of the Roman name;
Of Styx and Acheron deſcribe the floods,
And Cæfar's wand'ring in th' Elyfian woods:
With figures numberless his ſtory grace,
And every thing in beauteous colours trace.
At once you may be pleafing and fublime :
I hate a heavy melancholy rhime :
I'd rather read Orlando's comick tale,
Than a dull author always ſtiff and ſtale,
Who thinks himſelf diſhonour'd in his ſtyle,
If on his works the graces do but ſmile,
"Tis faid, that Homer, matchles in his art,
Stole Venus' girdle to engage the heart :
His works indeed vaft treafures do unfold,
And whatfoe'er he touches turns to gold:
All in his hands new beauty does acquire ;
He always pleafes, and can never tire.
A happy warmth he every where may boaſt ;
Nor is he in too long digreffions loft:
His verfes without rule a method find,
And of themſelves appear in order join’d :
All without trouble anfwers his intent;
Each fyllable is tending to th' event.
Let his example your endeavours raife:
To love his writings is a kind of praife.
A poem, where we all perfections find,
Is not the work of a fantastick mind:
There muſt be care, and time, and ſkill, and pains í
Not the first heat of unexperienc'd brains.
;
1 Orlando Furiofe, a celebrated poem written by Ariofio and
tranflated by Harington.
Yet
The ART of POETRY.
257..
?
Yet fometimes artleſs poets, when the rage
Of a warm fancy does their minds engage,
Puff'd with vain pride, prefume they underſtand,
And boldly take the trumpet in their hand;
Their fuftian mufe each accident confounds;
Nor can fhe fly, but riſe by leaps and bounds,
Till their ſmall ſtock of learning quickly ſpent,
Their poem dies for want of nouriſhment.
In vain mankind the hot-brain'd fool decries,
No branding cenfures can unveil his eyes;
With impudence the laurel they invade,
Refolv❜d to like the monſters they have made.
Virgil, compar'd to them, is flat and dry;
And Homer underſtood not poetry :
Againſt their merit if this age rebel,
To future times for juftice they appeal.
But waiting till mankind fhall do them right,
And bring their works triumphantly to light;
Neglected heaps we in bye-corners lay,
Where they become to worms and moths a prey §
Forgot, in duft and cobwebs let them reft,
Whilst we return from whence we firft digreft.
The great fuccefs which tragic writers found,
In Athens first the comedy renown'd,
Th' abufive Grecian there, by pleafing ways,
Difpers'd his natural malice in his plays:
Wiſdom and virtue, honour, wit, and fenſe,
Were fubject to buffooning infolence:
Poets were publickly approv'd, and fought,
That vice extoll'd, and virtue fet at nought;
A Socrates himself in that loofe
I age,
Was made the paftime of a fcoffing ſtage.
At last the publick took in hand the cauſe,
And cur'd this madneſs by the power of laws;
I This great philofopher was publickly ridiculed by name on the
ftage at Athens, by Ariftophanes, in his comedy of the clouds.
VOL. I.
$
Forbade
258
The ART of POETRY.
Forbade at any time, or any place,
To name the perfon, or defcribe the face.
The ſtage its ancient fury thus let fall,
And comedy diverted without gall:
By mild reproofs recover'd minds difeas'd,
And fparing perfons innocently pleas'd.
Each one was nicely fhewn in this new glafs,
And fmil'd to think he was not meant the aſs:
A miſer oft would laugh at firſt, to find
A faithful draught of his own fordid mind;
And fops were with fuch care and cunning writ,
They lik'd the piece for which themſelves did fit.
You then that would the comick laurels wear,
To study nature be your only care:
Whoe'er knows man, and by a curious art
Difcerns the hidden fecrets of the heart;
He who obferves, and naturally can paint
The jealous fool, the fawning fycophant,
A fober wit, an enterprising afs,
A humorous Otter 2, or a Hudibras;
May fafely in thofe noble lifts engage,
And make them act and ſpeak upon the ftage.
Strive to be natural in all you write,
And paint with colours that may pleaſe the fight,
Nature in various figures does abound;
And in each mind are diff'rent humours found:
A glance, a touch, difcovers to the wife;
But every man has not difcerning eyes.
All-changing time does alfo change the mind;
And different ages different pleaſures find:
Youth, hot and furious, cannot brook delay,
By flattering vice is eaſily led away;
Vain in difcourfe, inconftant in defire,
In cenfure, raſh; in pleafures, all on fire.
2 A character in Een Johnfon's play of the Silent Woman,
The
The ART of POETRY.
259
I
The manly age does ſteadier thoughts enjoy;
Power and ambition do his foul employ:
Againſt the turns of fate he fets his mind;
And by the paft the future hopes to find.
Decrepid age ſtill adding to his ſtores,
For others heaps the treafure he adores,
In all his actions keeps a frozen pace;
Paſt times extols, the prefent to debaſe:
Incapable of pleaſures youth abuſe,
In others blames what age does him refufe.
Your actors muft by reafon be control'd;
Let young men ſpeak like young, old men like old :
Obferve the town, and ſtudy well the court;
For thither various characters refort:
Thus 'twas great Johnſon purchas'd his renown,
And in his art had borne away the crown;
If, lefs defirous of the people's praiſe,
He had not with low farce debas'd his plays;
Mixing dull buffoonry with wit refin'd,
And Harlequin with noble Terence join'd.
When in the Fox I fee the tortois hift,
I loſe the author of the Alchemift.
The comic wit, born with a fmiling air,
Muft tragic grief and pompous verfe forbear;
Yet may he not, as on a market-place,
With baudy jufts amufe the populace:
With well-bred converfation you muſt pleaſe,
And your intrigue unravell'd be with eaſe:
Your action ſtill ſhould reaſon's rules obey,
Nor in an empty ſcene may lofe its way.
Your humble ſtyle muft fometimes gently rife;
And your difcourfe fententious be, and wife:
The paffions muft to nature be confin'd;
And ſcenes to ſcenes with artful weaving join'd.
Your wit must not unfeafonably play;
But follow bus'nefs, never lead the way.
S 2
Obferve
260
The ART of POETRY.
Obferve how Terence does this error fhun;
A careful father chides his amorous fon :
Then fee that fon, whom no advice can move,
Forget thoſe orders, and purfue his love:
'Tis not a well-drawn picture we diſcover:
'Tis a true fon, a father, and a lover.
I like an author that reforms the age;
And keeps the right decorum of the ſtage;
That always pleaſes by juft reaſon's rule:
But for a tedious droll, a quibbling fool,
Who with low naufeous baudry fills his plays;
Let him be gone, and on two treffels raiſe
Some Smithfield ſtage, where he may act his pranks,
And make Jack-Puddings ſpeak to mountebanks.
I
CANT O IV.
N Florence dwelt a doctor of renown,
The fcourge of God, and terror of the town,
Who all the cant of phyfic had by heart,
And never murder'd but by rules of art.
The public mifchief was his private gain;
Children their flaughter'd parents fought in vain:
A brother here his poifon'd brother wept;
Some bloodless dy'd, and fome by opium flept.
Colds, at his prefence, would to frenzies turn;
And agues, like malignant fevers, burn.
Hated, at laft, his practice gives him o'er;
One friend, unkill'd by drugs, of all his ſtore,
In his new country-houſe affords him place;
'Twas a rich abbot, and a building aſs :
Here firft the doctor's talent came in play,
I
He ſeems infpir'd, and talks like Wren or May 1:
1 Sir Chriftopher Wren, and Mr. May, were two of the King's
architects; the former planned St. Paul's, St. Stephen Walbrook,
&c. &c.
Of
·
H
The ART of POETRY.
261
Of this new portico condemns the face,
And turns the entrance to a better place;
Deſigns the ſtair-cafe at the other end,
His friend approves, does for his maſon ſend.
He comes; the doctor's arguments prevail.
In short, to finish this our humorous tale,
He Galen's dangerous fcience does reject,
And from ill doctor turns good architect.
In this example we may have our part :
Rather be maſon, 'tis a uſeful art!
Than a dull poet; for that trade accurft,
Admits no mean betwixt the best and worst.
In other ſciences, without difgrace,
A candidate may fill a fecond place;
But poetry no medium can admit,
No reader fuffers an indifferent wit:
The ruin'd ſtationers againſt him baul,
And Herringman degades him from his ftall.
Burlefque, at leaft our laughter may excite :
But a cold writer never can delight.
}
The Counter-Scuffle has more wit and art
Than the ſtiff formal ſtyle of Gondibert.
Be not affected with that empty praiſe
Which your vain flatterers will ſometimes raiſe,
And when you read, with ecſtaſy will ſay,
"The finiſh'd piece! the admirable play!"
Which, when expos'd to cenfure and to light,
Cannot endure a critick's piercing fight.
A hundred authors fates have been foretold,
And Shadwell's works are printed, but not fold,
Hear all the world; confider every thought;
A fool by chance may ftumble on a fault :
Yet, when Apollo does your mufe infpire,
Be not impatient to expofe your fire;
2 A poem written in doggrel verfe. See Dryden's Miſcellanies,
Vol. III. page 32, printed in 1727.
$ 3
Nor
262
The ART of POETRY.
Nor imitate the Settles of our times,
Thoſe tuneful readers of their own dull rhimes.
Who feize on all th' acquaintance they can meet,
And ftop the paffengers that walk the ftreet:
There is no fanctuary you can chufe
For a defence from their purfuing mufe.
I've ſaid before, be patient when they blame;
To alter for the better is no fhame.
Yet yield not to a fool's impertinence:
Sometimes conceited fceptics void of ſenſe,
By their falfe tafte condemn fome finifh'd part,
And blame the nobleft flights of wit and art,
In vain their fond opinions you deride,
With their lov'd follies they are fatisfy'd;
And their weak judgment, void of ſenſe and light,
Thinks nothing can eſcape their feeble fight:
Their dangerous counfels do not cure, but wound;
To fhun the ftorm they run your verfe aground,
And thinking to efcape a rock, are drown'd.
Chufe a fure judge to cenfure what you write, -
Whofe reafon leads, and knowledge gives you light,
Whofe fteady hand will prove your faithful guide,
And touch the darling follies you would hide :
He, in your doubts, will carefully advife,
And clear the mift before your feeble eyes.
'Tis he will tell you, to what noble height
A generous mufe may fometimes take her flight;
When too much fetter'd with the rules of art,
May from her ftricter bounds and limits part;
But fuch a perfect judge is hard to fee,
And every rhimer knows not 'poetry ;
Nay fome there are for writing verfe extoll'd,
Who know not Lucan's drofs from Virgil's gold.
Would you in this great art acquire renown ?
Authors obſerve the rules I here lay down.
In prudent leffons every where abound;
With pleaſant join the uſeful and the found:
The ART of POETRY. 263
A fober reader a vain tale will flight;
He feeks as well inſtruction as delight.
Let all your thoughts to virtue be confin'd,
Still offering nobler figures to our mind:
I like not thofe looſe writers, who employ
Their guilty mufe, good manners to deſtroy;
Who with falfe colours ftill deceive our eyes,
And ſhow us vice drefs'd in a fair diſguiſe.
Yet do I not their fullen muſe approve,
Who from all modeft writings baniſh love;
That ftript the play-houfe of its chief intrigue,
And make a murderer of Roderigue:
The lighteft love, if decently expreſt,
Will raife no vitious motions in our breaſt.
Dido in vain may weep, and aſk relief;
I blame her folly, whilft I fhare her grief.
A virtuous author, in his charming art,
To pleaſe the fenfe needs not corrupt the heart:
His heat will never caufe a guilty fire:
To follow virtue then be your defire,
In vain your art and vigour are expreft;
The obfcene expreffion fhows the infected breaſt.
But above all bafe jealoufies avoid,
In which detracting poets are employ'd.
A noble wit dares liberally commend;
And fcorns to grudge at his deferving friend.
Bafe rivals, who true wit and merit hate,
Caballing ftill against it with the great,
Maliciouſly aſpire to gain renown,
By ſtanding up, and pulling others down.
Never debaſe yourſelf by treacherous ways,
Nor by fuch abje&t methods feek for praiſe :
Let not your only bufinefs be to write;
Be virtuous, juft, and in your friends delight.
'Tis not enough your poems be admir'd;
But ftrive your converfation be defir'd :
S +
Write
264
The ART of POETRY,
Write for immortal fame; nor ever chufe
Gold for the object of a generous mufe.
I know a noble wit may, without crime,
Receive a lawful tribute for his time:
Yet I abhor thofe writers, who defpife
Their honour; and alone their profits prize;
Who their Apollo bafely will degrade,
And of a noble ſcience make a trade.
Before kind reafon did her light difplay,
And government taught mortals to obey,
Men, like wild beafts, did nature's laws purſue,
They fed on herbs, and drink from rivers drew;
Their brutal force, on luft and rapine bent,
Committed murder without punishment:
Reafon at last by her all-conquering arts,
Reduc'd theſe favages, and tun'd their hearts;
Mankind from bogs, and woods, and caverns calls,
And towns and cities fortifies with walls:
Thus fear of juftice made proud rapine ceafe,
And ſhelter'd innocence by laws and peace.
Theſe benefits from poets we receiv'd,
From whence are rais'd thofe fictions fince believ'd,
That Orpheus, by his foft harmonious ftrains,
'Tam'd the fierce tigers of the Thracian plains;
Amphion's notes, by their melodious powers,
Drew rocks and woods, and rais'd the Theban tow'rs &
Thefe miracles from numbers did arife:
Since which, in verfe heaven taught his myfteries,
And by a priest, poffefs'd with rage divine,
Apollo fpoke from his prophetick fhrine.
Soon after Homer the old heroes prais'd,
And noble minds by great examples rais'd;
Then Hefiod did his Grecian fwains incline
To till the fields, and prune the bounteous vinc.
Thus ufeful rules were by the poets aid,
In eafy numbers to rude men convey'd,
4
And
The ART of POETRY.
265
}
And pleaſingly their precepts did impart;
Firſt charm'd the ear, and then engag'd the heart:
The mufes thus their reputation rais'd,
And with juft gratitude in Greece were prais'd.
With pleaſure mortals did their wonders fee,
And facrific'd to their divinity;
But want, at laft, bafe flattery entertain'd,
And old Parnaffus with this vice was ftain'd:
Defire of gain dazzling the poets eyes,
Their works were fill'd with fulfome flatteries.
Thus needy wits a vile revenue made,
And verfe became a mercenary trade.
Debafe not with fo mean a vice thy art:
If gold must be the idol of thy heart,
Fly, fly th' unfruitful Heliconian ſtrand,
Thoſe ſtreams are not inrich'd with golden fand:
Great wits, as well as warriors, only gain
Laurels and honours for their toil and pain:
But what? an author cannot live on fame,
Or pay a reckoning with a lofty name:
A poet to whom fortune is unkind,
Who when he goes to bed has hardly din'd;
Takes little pleaſure in Parnaffus' dreams,
Or reliſhes the Heliconian ftreams.
Horace had eaſe and plenty when he writ,
And free from cares for money or for meat,
Did not expect his dinner from his wit.
'Tis true; but verfe is cheriſh'd by the great,
And now none famifh who deferve to eat:
What can we fear, when virtue, arts, and fenfe,
Receive the ftars propitious influence;
When a fharp-fighted prince, by early grants.
Rewards your merits, and prevents your wants?
Sing then his glory, celebrate his fame;
Your nobleft theme is his immortal name.
Let mighty Spenfer raiſe his reverend head,
Cowley and Denham ftart up from the dead;
}
266
The ART of POETRY.
Waller his age renew, and offerings bring,
Our monarch's praiſe let bright-ey'd virgins fing;
Let Dryden with new rules our ftage refine,
And his great models form by this defign:
But where's a fecond Virgil, to rehearſe
Our hero's glories in his epick verfe?
What Orpheus fing his triumphs o'er the main,
And make the hills and forefts move again;
Shew his bold fleet on the Batavian fhore,
And Holland trembling as his cannons roar;
Paint Europe's balance in his ſteady hand,
Whilft the two worlds in expectation ftand
Of peace or war, that wait on his command?
But as I speak new glories ftrike my eyes,
Glories, which heaven itself does give, and prize,
Bleffings of peace; that with their milder rays.
Adorn his reign, and bring Saturnian days:
Now let rebellion, difcord, vice, and rage,
That have in patriots forms debauch'd our age,
Vanish with all the minifters of hell:
His rays their poifonous vapours fhall difpel:
'Tis he alone our fafety did create,
His own firm foul fecur'd the nation's fate,
Oppos'd to all the Boutefeus 3 of the ftate.
Authors for him your great endeavours raiſe;
The loftieft numbers will but reach his praiſe.
For me, whofe verfe in fatire has been bred,
And never durft heroick meaſures tread;
Yet you fhall fee me, in that famous field,
With eyes and voice, my beſt afſiſtance yield:
Offer your leffons, that my infant muſe
Learnt, when the Horace for her guide did chufe:
Second your zeal with wishes, heart, and eyes,
And afar off hold up the glorious prize.
3 Boutefeu fignifies an incendiary.
}
}
But
The ART of POETRY.
267
But pardon too, if zealous for the right,
A ftrict obferver of each noble flight,
From the fine gold I feparate the allay,
And ſhow how hafty writers fometimes ftray:
Apter to blame, than knowing how to mend;
A fharp, but yet a neceffary friend.
1
THRE-
}
1
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS:
A
FUNERAL PINDARICK POEM, facred to
the happy Memory of King CHARLES II.
Fortunati ambo! fi quid mea carmina poſſunt,
Kalla dies unquam memori vos eximet ævo.
T
I.
HUS long my grief has kept me dumb:
Sure there's a lethargy in mighty woe,
Tears fland congeal'd, and cannot flow;
And the fad foul retires into her inmoft room:
Tears, for a ftroke forefeen, afford relief;
But, unprovided for a fudden blow,
Like Niobe we marble grow;
And petrify with grief.
Virg
Our
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
269
1
Our British heaven was all ferene,
No threatning cloud was nigh,
Not the leaft wrinkle to deform the fky;
We liv'd as unconcern'd and happily
As the firft age in nature's golden fcene;
Supine amidſt our flowing ſtore,
We ſlept fecurely, and we dreamt of more:
When fuddenly the thunder-clap was heard,
It took us unprepar'd and out of guard,
Already loft before we fear'd.
Th' amazing news of Charles at once were ſpread,
At once the general voice declar'd,
"Our gracious prince was dead."
No fickness know before, no flow diſeaſe
To foften grief by juft degrees:
But like an hurricane on Indian feas,
The tempeft roſe;
An unexpected burft of woes:
With ſcarce a breathing fpace betwixt,
This now becalm'd, and perifhing the next,
As if great Atlas from his height
Should fink beneath his heavenly weight,
And with a mighty flaw, the flaming wall
As once it ſhall,
Should gape immenfe, and rufhing down, o'erwhelm
this nether ball;
So ſwift and ſo ſurpriſing was our fear:
Our Atlas fell indeed; but Hercules was near.
II.
His pious brother, fure the beft
Who ever bore that name,
Was newly rifen from his reft,
And with a fervent flame,
His ufual morning vows had juft addreft
For
?
270
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
For his dear fovereign's health;
And hop'd to have them heard,
In long increaſe of years,
In honour, fame, and wealth:
Guiltless of greatnefs thus he always pray'd,
Nor knew nor wifh'd thofe vows he made,
On his own head fhould be repay'd.
Soon as th' ill-omen'd rumour reach'd his ear,
Ill news is wing'd with fate, and flies apace,
Who can deſcribe th' amazement of his face!
Horror in all his pomp was there,
Mute and magnificent without a tear:
And then the hero firft was feen to fear.
Half unarray'd he ran to his relief,
So hafty and ſo artless was his grief:
Approaching greatnefs met him with her charms
Of power and future ftate;
But look'd fo ghaftly in a brother's fate,
He shook her from his arms.
Arriv'd within the mournful room, he faw
A wild distraction, void of awe,
And arbitrary grief unbounded by a law.
God's image, God's anointed lay
Without motion, pulſe, or breath,
A fenfeless lump of facred clay,
An image now of death.
Amidst his fad attendants groans and cries,
The lines of that ador'd forgiving face,
Distorted from their native grace;
An iron flumber fat on his majeſtick eyes.
The pious duke-Forbear, audacious mufe,
No terms thy feeble art can uſe
Are able to adorn fo vaft a woe:
The grief of all the reft like fubject-grief did fhow,
His like a fovereign did tranfcend;
No wife, no brother, fuch a grief could know
Nor any name but friend.
III. O
THRENODLA AUGUSTALIS.
271
<
}
2
III.
wondrous changes of a fatal fcene,
Still varying to the laſt!
Heaven, tho' its hard decree was paſt,
Seem'd pointing to a gracious turn agen:
And death's uplifted arm arreſted in its hafte.
Heaven half repented of the doom,
And almoſt griev'd it had foreſeen,
What by forefight it will'd eternally to come.
Mercy above did hourly plead
For her refemblance here below;
And mild forgiveneſs intercede
To ſtop the coming blow.
New miracles approach'd th' etherial throne,
Such as his wondrous life had oft and lately known,
And urg'd that ftill they might be shown.
On earth his pious brother pray'd and vow'd,
Renouncing greatnefs at fo dear a rate,
Himfelf defending what he could,
From all the glories of his future fate.
With him th' innumerable croud,
Of armed prayers
Knock'd at the gates of heaven, and knock'd aloud;
The first well-meaning rude petitioners.
All for his life affail'd the throne,
All would have brib'd the ſkies by offering up their own,
So great a throng not heaven itſelf could bar;
'Twas almoſt borne by force as in the giants' war.
The prayers, at leaft, for his reprieve were heard';
His death, like Hezekiah's, was deferr'd:
Against the fun the fhadow went;
Five days, thoſe five degrees, were lent
To form our patience and prepare th' event.
The fecond caufes took the fwift command,
The medicinal head, the ready hand,
1
All
273
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
All eager to perform their part;
All but eternal doom was conquer'd by their art:
Once more the fleeting foul came back
T' inſpire the mortal frame;
And in the body took a doubtful ſtand,
Doubtful and hovering like expiring flame,
That mounts and falls by turns, and trembles o'er the
brand.
IV.
The joyful fhort-liv'd news foon fpread around,
Took the fame train, the fame impetuous bound:
The drooping town in fmiles again was dreft,
Gladness in every face expreft,
Their eyes before their tongues confeft.
Men met each other with erected look,
The ſteps were higher that they took,
Friends to congratulate their friends made hafte;
And long inveterate foes faluted as they paft:
Above the rest heroick James appear'd
Exalted more, becauſe he more had fear'd:
His manly heart, whofe noble pride
Was ftill above
Diffembled hate or varniſh'd love,
Its more than common tranfport could not hide
But like an 1 eagre rode in triumph o'er the tide.
'Thus, in alternate courſe,
The tyrant paffions, hope and fear,
Did in extremes appear,
And flash'd upon the foul with equal force.
Thus, at half ebb, a rolling fea
Returns and wins upon the fhore ;
The watry herd, affrighted at the roar,
Reft on their fins awhile, and ſtay,
Then backward take their wond'ring way:
1 An eagre is a tide fwelling above another tide, which I have
myſelf obſerved on the River Trent.
The
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
273
The prophet wonders more than they,
At prodigies but rarely feen before,
And criesa king muft fall, or kingdoms change their fway.
Such were our counter-tides at land, and fo
Prefaging of the fatal blow,
In their prodigious ebb and flow.
The royal foul, that like the labouring moon,
By charms of art was hurried down,
Forc'd with regret to leave her native ſphere,
Came but a while on liking here:
Soon weary of the painful ftrife,
And made but faint effays of life:
An evening light
Soon fhut in night;
A ſtrong distemper, and a weak relief,
Short intervals of joy, and long returns of grief.
V.
The fons of art all medicines try'd,
And every noble remedy apply'd;
With emulation each effay'd
His utmoſt ſkill, nay more they pray'd:
Never was lofing game with better conduct play'd,
Death never won a ſtake with greater toil,
Nor e'er was fate ſo near a foil:
But like a fortreſs on a rock,
The impregnable diſeaſe their vain attempts did mock;
They min'd it near, they batter'd from afar
With all the cannon of the medicinal war;
No gentle means could be effay'd,
'Twas beyond parly when the fiege was laid:
Th' extremeft ways they firft ordain,
Prefcribing fuch intolerable pain,
As none but Cæfar could fuftain:
Undaunted Cæfar underwent
The malice of their art, nor bent
Beneath whate'er their pious rigour could invent:
Vol. I.
T
lo
274
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
!
In five fuch days he fuffer'd more
Than any
fuffer'd in his reign before;
More, infinitely more, than he,
Againſt the worft of rebels, could decree,
A traitor or twice pardon'd enemy.
Now art was tir'd without fuccefs,
No racks could make the ftubborn malady confefs.
The vain infurancers of life,
And they who moft perform'd and promis'd lefs,
Even 2 Short and Hobbes forfook th' unequal trife.
Death and deſpair was in their looks,
No longer they confult their memories or books;
Like helpless friends, who view from ſhore
The labouring ſhip, and hear the tempeft roar;
So ſtood they with their arms acroſs;
Not to affift, but to deplore
Th' inevitable lcfs.
VI.
Death was denounc'd; that frightful found
Which ev'n the beft can hardly bear,
He took the fummons void of fear;
And unconcern'dly caft his eyes around;
As if to find and dare the griefly challenger.
What death could do he lately try'd,
When in four days he more than dy'd.
The fame affurance all his words did grace;
The fame majeftic mildneſs held its place :
Nor loft the monarch in his dying face.
Intrepid, pious, merciful, and brave,
He look'd as when he conquer'd and forgave.
VII.
As if fome angel had been fent
To lengthen out his government.
And to foretel as many years again,
As he had number'd in his happy reign,
J Two Phyſicians who attended on the King.
So
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
275
So chearfully he took the doom.
Of his departing breath;
Nor fhrunk nor ftept afide for death :
But with unalter'd pace kept on;
Providing for events to come,
When he refign'd the throne.
Still he maintain'd his kingly ſtate:
And grew familiar with his fate.
Kind, good, and gracious, to the laft,
On all he lov'd before his dying beams he caft:
Oh truly good, and truly great,
For glorious as he roſe benignly ſo he ſet!
All that on earth he held moſt dear,
He recommended to his care,
To whom both heaven,
The right had given
And his own love bequeath'd fupreme command:
He took and preft that ever loyal hand,
Which could in peace fecure his reign,
Which could in wars his power maintain,
That hand on which no plighted vows were ever vain.
Well, for fo great a truſt he choſe
A prince who never difobey'd :
Not when the moft fevere commands were laid;
Nor want, nor exile with his duty weigh'd:
A prince on whom, if heaven its eyes could clofe,
The welfare of the world it fafely might repofe.
VIII.
That 3 King who liv'd to God's own heart,
Yet lefs ferenely died than he :
Charles left behind no harsh decree
For fchoolmen with laborious art
To falve from cruelty:
Thofe, for whom love could no excufes frame,
He graciously forgot to name.
2 King David,
T 2
Thus
276
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS,
Thus far my mufe, tho' rudely, has defign'd
Some faint reſemblance of his godlike mind :
But neither pen nor pencil can expreſs
The parting brothers' tenderneſs :
Tho' that's a term too mean and low;
The bleſt above a kinder word may know :
But what they did, and what they ſaid,
The monarch who triumphant went,
The militant who ſtaid,
Like painters, when their heightning arts are ſpent,
I caft into a fhade.
That all-forgiving King,
The type of him above,
That inexhaufted fpring
Of clemency and love;
Himſelf to his next felf accus'd,
And ask'd that pardon which he ne'er refus'd;
For faults not his, for guilt and crimes.
Of godleſs men, and of rebellious times:
For an hard exile, kindly meant,
When his ungrateful country fent
Their beft Camillus into baniſhment:
And forc'd their fovereign's act, they could not his confent.
Oh how much rather had that injur'd chief
Repeated all his fufferings paft!
Than hear a pardon begg'd at laft,
Which giv'n could give the dying no relicf:
He bent, he funk beneath his grief:
His dauntless heart would fain have held
From weeping, but his eyes rebell'd.
Perhaps the god-like hero in his breaſt
Difdain'd, or was afham'd to ſhow
So weak, fo womanish a woe,
Which yot the brother and the fricad foplenteoufly confeft.
IX. Amid
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
277
IX.
Amidſt that filent thower, the royal mind
An eafy paffage found,
And left its facred earth behind:
Nor murmuring groan expreft, nor labouring found,
Nor any leaſt tumultuous breath ;
Calm was his life, and quiet was his death.
Soft as thofe gentle whiſpers were,
In which th' Almighty did appear;
By the ftill voice the prophet knew him there.
That peace which made thy profperous reign to ſhine,
That peace thou leaveft to thy imperial line,
That peace, oh happy fhade, be ever thine!
X.
For all thofe joys thy reſtoration brought,
For all the miracles it wrought,
For all the healing balm thy mercy pour'd
Into the nation's bleeding wound,
And care that after kept it found,
For numerous bleffings yearly fhower'd,
And property with plenty crown'd;
For freedom, ftill maintain'd alive,
Freedom which in no other land will thrive,
Freedom, an Engliſh ſubject's fole prerogative,
Without whofe charms even peace would be
But a dull quiet flavery:
For thefe and more, accept our pious praiſes
'Tis all the fubfidy
The preſent age can raife,
The reft is charg'd on late pofterity.
Pofterity is charg'd the more,
Becauſe the large abounding ftore
To them and to their heirs, is ftill entail'd by thee.
T 3
Succeffion
278
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
Succeffion of a long deſcent
Which chaftely in the channels ran,
And from our demi-gods began,
Equal almoft to time in its extent,
Thro' hazards numberless and great,
Thou haft deriv'd this mighty bleffing down,
And fixt the fairest gem that decks th' imperial crown:
Not faction, when it fhook thy regal feat,
Not fenates, infolently loud,
Thoſe echoes of a thoughtlefs croud,
Not foreign or domeftic treachery,
Could warp thy foul to their unjust decree.
So much thy foes thy manly mind miftook,
Who judg'd it by the mildness of thy look:
Like a well-temper'd fword it bent at will;
But kept the native toughness of the fteel.
XI.
Be true, O Clio, to thy hero's name!
But draw him ſtrictly fo,
That all who view, the piece may know;
He needs no trappings of fictitious fame:
The load's too weighty: thou may'ſt chuſe
Some parts of praife, and fome refuſe:
Write, that his annals may be thought more laviſh than
the muſe.
In fcanty truth thou haft confin'd
The virtues of a royal mind,
Forgiving, bounteous, humble, juft, and kind:
His converfation, wit, and parts,
His knowledge in the nobleft uſeful arts,
Were fuch, dead authors could not give;
But habitudes of thofe who live;
Who, lighting him, did greater lights receive:
He drain'd from all, and all they knew;
His apprehenfion quick, his judgment true:
That
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
279
That the moſt learn'd, with fhame, confefs
His knowledge more, his reading only lefs.
XII.
Amidſt the peaceful triumphs of his reign,
What wonder if the kindly beams he fhed
Reviv'd the drooping arts again,
If fcience rais'd her head,
And foft humanity that from rebellion fled:
Our ifle, indeed, too fruitful was before;
But all uncultivated lay
Out of the folar walk and heaven's high way;
With rank Geneva weeds run o'er,
And cockle, at the beft, amidft the corn it bore:
The royal husbandman appear'd,
And plough'd, and fow'd, and till'd,
The thoms he rooted out, the rubbish clear'd,
And bleft the obedient field.
When ftrait a double harveſt rofe;
Such as the ſwarthy Indian mows;
Or happier climates near the line,
Or paradife manur'd, and dreft by hands divine.
XIII.
As when the new-born Phoenix takes his way,
His rich paternal regions to furvey,
Of airy chorifters a numerous train
Attends his wondrous progrefs o'er the plain;
So, rifing from his father's urn,
So glorious did our Charles return ;
The officious muſes came along,
A gay harmonious quire like angels ever young :
The mufe that mourns him now his happy triumph fung,
Even they could thrive in his auſpicious reign;
And fuch a plenteous crop they bore
Of pureft and well winow'd grain,
As Britain never knew before.
Tho' little was their hire, and light their gain,
T 4
Yet
280
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
Yet fomewhat to their fhare he threw ;
Fed from his hand they fung and flew,
Like birds of Paradife that liv'd on morning dew.
Oh never let their lays his name forget!
The penfion of a prince's praife is great.
Live then, thou great encourager of arts,
Live ever in our thankful hearts;
Live bleft above, almoſt invok'd below;
Live and receive this pious vow,
Our patron once, our guardian angel now.
Thou Fabius of a finking ſtate,
Who didſt by wife delays divert our fate,
When faction like a tempeſt roſe,
In death's moſt hideous form,
Then art to rage thou didst oppoſe,
To weather out the ſtorm:
Not quitting thy fupreme command,
Thou heldft the rudder with a ſteady hand,
Till fafely on the fhore the bark did land:
The bark that all our bleffings brought,
Charg'd with thyſelf and James, a doubly royal fraught.
XIV.
Oh frail eſtate of human things,
And ſlippery hopes below!
Now to our coft your emptinefs we know,
For 'tis a leffon dearly bought,
Affurance here is never to be fought.
The beſt, and beſt belov'd of Kings,
And beft deferving to be fo,
When ſcarce he had eſcap'd the fatal blow
Of faction and confpiracy,
Death did his promis'd hopes deſtroy:
He toil'd, he gain'd, but liv'd not to enjoy.
What mists of Providence are thefe
Thro' which we cannot fee!
So faints, by fupernatural power fet free,
3
Are
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
281
Are left at laſt in martyrdom to die;
Such is the end of oft repeated miracles.
Forgive me, heaven, that impious thought,
'Twas grief for Charles, to madneſs wrought,
That queftion'd thy fupreme decree!
Thou didst his gracious reign prolong,
Even in thy faints and angels wrong,
His fellow-citizens of immortality:
For twelve long years of exile, borne,
Twice twelve we number'd fince his bleft return:
So ftrictly wer't thou juſt to pay,
Even to the driblet of a day.
Yet ftill we murmur, and complain,
The quails and manna ſhould no longer rain;
Thofe miracles 'twas needlefs to renew;
The choſen ſtock has now the promis'd land in view.
XV.
A warlike prince afcends the regal ſtate,
A prince long exercis'd by fate :
Long may he keep, tho' he obtains it late.
Heroes, in heaven's peculiar mold are caſt,
They and their poets are not form'd in haſte ;
Manwas the first in God's defign, and man was made the laft.
Falle heroes, made by flattery fo,
Heaven can ſtrike out, like fparkles, at a blow;
But ere a prince is to perfection brought,
He cofts Omnipotence a fecond thought.
With toil and ſweat,
With hard'ning cold, and forming heat,
The cyclops did their ftrokes repeat,
Before the impenetrable ſhield was wrought.
It looks as if the Maker would not own
The noble work for his,
Before 'twas try'd and found a mafter-piece.
XVI. View
282
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
Co
XVI.
View then a monarch ripen'd for a throne.
Alcides thus his race began,
O'er infancy he fwiftly ran;
The future God at firft was more than man:
Dangers and toils, and Juno's hate
Even o'er his cradle lay in wait;
And there he grappled first with fate:
In his young hands the hiffing fnakes he preft,
So early was the Deity confeft;
Thus by degrees he rofe to Jove's imperial feat;
Thus difficulties prove a foul legitimately great.
Like his, our hero's infancy was try'd ;
Betimes the furies did their foakes provide;
And to his infant arms oppofe
His father's rebels, and his brother's foes;
The more oppreft the higher ftill he rofe:
Thoſe were the preludes of his fate,
That form'd his manhood, to fubdue
The hydra of the many-headed hiffing crew.
XVII.
As after Numa's peaceful reign,
The martial Ancus did the fcepter wield,
Furbish'd the rufty fword again,
Refum'd the long-forgotten fhield,
And led the Latins to the dufty field;
So James the drowſy genius wakes
Of Britain long entranc'd in charms,
Reſtiff and flumbring on its arms:
'Tis rous'd, and with a new-ftrung nerve, the fpear al-
ready ſhakes,
No neighing of the warrior fteeds,
No drum, or louder trumpet, needs
To infpire the coward, warm the cold,
His voice, his fole appearance makes them bold.
Gaul
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
283
Gaul and Batavia dread th' impending blow;
Too well the vigour of that arm they know;
They lick the duſt and crouch beneath their fatal for,
Long may they fear this awful prince,
And not provoke his ling'ring fword;
Peace is their only fure defence,
Their beft fecurity his word:
In all the changes of his doubtful ſtate,
His truth, like heaven's, was kept inviolate,
For him to promife is to make it fate.
His valour can triumph o'er land and main ;
With broken oaths his fame he will not ſtain
With conqueft bafely bought, and with inglorious gain.
XVIII.
For once, O heaven, unfold thy adamantine book;
And let his wond'ring fenate fee,
If not thy firm immutable decree,
At least the fecond page of ftrong contingency;
Such as confifts with wills, originally free:
Let them with glad amazement look
On what their happineſs may be :
Let them not ftill be obftinately blind,
Still to divert the good thou haft defign'd,
Or with malignant penury,
To ftarve the royal virtues of his mind.
Faith is a chriftian's and a fubject's teft,
Oh give them to believe, and they are ſurely blef,
They do; and with a diftant view I fee
Th' amended vows of English loyalty.
And all beyond that object, there appears
The long retinue of a profperous reign,
A ſeries of fucceſsful years,
In orderly array, a martial, manly train.
Behold
284
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
Behold ev'n the remoter fhores,
A conquering navy proudly ſpread;
The Britiſh cannon formidably roars,
While ftarting from his oozy bed,
Th' afferted ocean rears his reverend head;
To view and recognize his ancient lord again :
And with a willing hand, reftores
The fafces of the main.
4.
VENI
[ 285 ]
VENI CREATOR SPIRITUS,
Paraphraſed.
REATOR ſpirit, by whoſe aid
CRA
The world's foundations firft were laid,
Come vifit every pious mind;
Come pour thy joys on human kind;
From fin and forrow fet us free,
And make thy temples worthy thee.
O fource of uncreated light,
The father's promiſed Paraclete!
Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire,
Our hearts with heavenly love infpire;
Come, and thy facred unction bring
To fanctify us, while we fing.
Plenteous of grace, defcend from high,
Rich in thy fev'nfold energy!
Thou ftrength of his Almighty hand,
Whofe pow'r does heav'n and earth command.
Proceeding fpirit, our defence,
Who do'ft the gifts of tongues difpenfe,
And crown'ft thy gift with eloquence!
Refine and purge our earthly parts;
But, oh, inflame and fire our hearts!
Our frailties help, our vice controul,
Submit the fenfes to the foul
And when rebellious they are grown.
Then lay thy hand, and hold 'em down.
Chace from our minds th' infernal foe,
And peace, the fruit of love, beſtow;
And left our feet ſhould ſtep aſtray,
Protect and guide us in the way.
}
Make
286 VENI CREATOR SPIRITUS.
T
Make us eternal truths receive,
And practiſe all that we believe:
Give us thyself, that we may fee
The Father, and the Son, by thee.
Immortal honour, endleſs fame,
Attend th' Almighty Father's name:
The Saviour Son be glorify'd,
Who for loft man's redemption dy'd:
And equal adoration be,
Eternal Paraclete, to thee.
The End of the FIRST VOLUME.
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