No More Learning

_
But to Pompey only it belonged, and to his cause, or the like cause,
to the defenders of ancient established governments, of the English
monarchy and liberties, to say, they that are not with us are
against us. _In internecino bello,_ in attacks upon government,
_medii pro hostibus habentur,_ neutral men are traitors, and assist,
by their indifferency, to the destruction of the government. As many
as applaud this play, ought to be put under sureties of the peace;
and yet not one warrant, that we hear of yet, granted by the Lord
Chief Justice.

"But it is not a Duke of Guise to be assassinated, a turbulent,
wicked, and haughty courtier; but an innocent and gentle prince, as
well as brave, and renowned for noble achievements: a prince, that
hath no fault, but that he is the king's son; and the best too of
all his sons; such a son, as would have made the best of emperors
happy.

"Except it be, that the people honour him and love him, and every
where publicly and loudly show it: But this they do, for that the
best people of England have no other way left to show their loyalty
to the king, and love to their religion and government, in long
intervals of Parliament, than by prosecuting his son, for the sake
of the king and his own merit, with all the demonstrations of the
highest esteem.

"But he hath not used his patron Duke much better; for he hath put
him under a most dismal and unfortunate character of a successor,
excluded from the crown by act of state for his religion, who fought
his way to the crown, changed his religion, and died by the hand of
a Roman assassinate.

"It is enough to make his great duke's courage quail, to find
himself under such an unlucky and disastrous representation, and
thus personated; besides, he hath offered a justification of an act
of exclusion against a popish successor, in a Protestant kingdom, by
remembering what was done against the king of Navarre.

"The Popish religion, in France, did, _de facto,_ by act of state,
exclude a Protestant prince, who is under no obligation, from his
religion, to destroy his Popish subjects.

"Though a Popish prince is, to destroy his Protestant subjects.

"A Popish prince, to a Protestant kingdom, without more, must be the
most insufferable tyrant, and exceed the character that any story
can furnish for that sort of monster: And yet all the while to
himself a religious and an applauded prince; discharged from the
tortures that ordinarily tear and rend the hearts of the most cruel
princes, and make them as uneasy to themselves as they are to their
subjects, and sometimes prevail so far as to lay some restraints
upon their wicked minds.

"But this his patron will impute to his want of judgment; for this
poet's heroes are commonly such monsters as Theseus and Hercules
are, renowned throughout all ages for destroying.

"But to excuse him, this man hath forsaken his post, and entered
upon another province. To "The Observator"[2] it belongs to confound
truth and falsehood; and, by his false colours and impostures, to
put out the eyes of the people, and leave them without
understanding.

"But our poet hath not so much art left him as to frame any thing
agreeable, or _verisimilar_, to amuse the people, or wherewith to
deceive them.

"His province is to corrupt the manners of the nation, and lay waste
their morals; his understanding is clapt, and his brains are
vitiated, and he is to rot the age.

"His endeavours are more happily applied, to extinguish the little
remains of the virtue of the age by bold impieties, and befooling
religion by impious and inept rhymes, to confound virtue and vice,
good and evil, and leave us without consciences.

"And thus we are prepared for destruction.

"But to give the world a taste of his atheism and impiety, I shall
recite two of his verses, as recited upon the stage, viz.

For conscience, and heaven's fear, religious rules,
They are all state-bells to toll in pious fools;

which I have done the rather, that some honest judge, or justice,
may direct a process against this bold impious man; or some honest
surrogate, or official, may find leisure to proceed, _ex officio,_
against him, notwithstanding at present they are so encumbered with
the dissenters.

"Such public blasphemies against religion, never were unpunished in
any country, or age, but this.

"But I have made too long a digression, but that it carries with it
some instructions towards the preserving of the honour of your
august city, viz.

"That you do not hereafter authorise the stage to expose and revile
your great officers, and offices, by the indignities yourselves do
them; whilst the Papists clap their hands, and triumph at your
public disgraces, and in the hopes they conceive thereby of the ruin
of your government, as if that were as sure and certain to them, as
it is to us, without doubt, that they once fired it.

"And further, for that it was fit to set forth to the world, of what
spirit our enemies are, how they intend to attack us; as also, how
bold they are with his majesty, what false and dishonourable
representations they make of him, and present to the world upon a
public theatre; which, I must confess, hath moved me with some
passion. "

This angry barrister was not the only adversary whom Dryden had to
encounter on this occasion. Thomas Shadwell, a man of some talents for
comedy, and who professed to tread in the footsteps of Ben Jonson, had
for some time been at variance with Dryden and Otway. He was probably
the author of a poem, entitled, "A Lenten Prologue, refused by the
Players;" which is marked by Mr Luttrel, 11th April, 1683, and
contains the following direct attack on "The Duke of Guise," and the
author:

Our prologue wit grows flat; the nap's worn off,
And howsoe'er we turn and trim the stuff,
The gloss is gone that looked at first so gaudy;
'Tis now no jest to hear young girls talk bawdry.
But plots and parties give new matters birth,
And state distractions serve you here for mirth.
At England's cost poets now purchase fame;
While factious heats destroy us, without shame,
These wanton Neroes fiddle to the flame;
The stage, like old rump-pulpits, is become
The scene of news, a furious party's drum:
Here poets beat their brains for volunteers,
And take fast hold of asses by their ears;
Their jingling rhimes for reason here you swallow,
Like Orpheus' music, it makes beasts to follow.
What an enlightening grace is want of bread!
How it can change a libeller's heart, and clear a laureat's head;
Open his eyes, till the mad prophet see
_Plots working in a future power to be! _ (Medal, p. 14. )
Traitors unformed to his second sight are clear.
And squadrons here and squadrons there appear;
Rebellion is the burden of the seer.
To Bayes, in vision, were of late revealed,
_Whig armies, that at Knightsbridge lay concealed;_
And though no mortal eye could see't before,
_The battle just was entering at the door. _
A dangerous association, signed by none,
The joiner's plot to seize the king alone.
Stephen with College[3] made this dire compact;
The watchful Irish took them in the fact.
Of riding armed; O traitorous overt act!
With each of them an ancient Pistol sided,
Against the statute in that case provided.
But, why was such a host of swearers pressed?
Their succour was ill husbandry at best.
Bayes's crowned muse, by sovereign right of satire,
Without desert, can dub a man a traitor;
And tories, without troubling law or reason,
By loyal instinct can find plots and treason.

A more formal attack was made in a pamphlet, entitled, "Some
Reflections on the pretended parallel in the Play called the Duke of
Guise. " This Dryden, in the following Vindication, supposes to have
been sketched by Shadwell, and finished by a gentleman of the
Temple[4]. In these Reflections, the obvious ground of attack,
occupied by Hunt, is again resumed. The general indecency of a
theatrical exhibition, which alluded to state-transactions of a grave
and most important nature; the indecorum of comparing the king to such
a monarch as Henry III. , infamous for treachery, cruelty, and vices of
the most profligate nature; above all, the parallel betwixt the Dukes
of Monmouth and Guise, by which the former is exhibited as a traitor
to his father, and recommended as no improper object for
assassination--are topics insisted on at some length, and with great
vehemence.

Our author was not insensible to these attacks, by which his loyalty
to the king, and the decency of his conduct towards Monmouth, the
king's offending, but still beloved, son, and once Dryden's own
patron, stood painfully compromised. Accordingly, shortly after these
pamphlets had appeared, the following advertisement was annexed to
"The Duke of Guise:"

"There was a preface intended to this play in vindication of it,
against two scurrilous libels lately printed; but it was judged,
that a defence of this nature would require more room than a preface
reasonably could allow. For this cause, and for the importunities of
the stationers, who hastened their impression, it is deferred for
some little time, and will be printed by itself. Most men are
already of opinion, that neither of the pamphlets deserve an answer,
because they are stuffed with open falsities, and sometimes
contradict each other; but, for once, they shall have a day or two
thrown away upon them, though I break an old custom for their sakes,
which was,--to scorn them. "

The resolution, thus announced, did not give universal satisfaction to
our author's friends; one of whom published the following
remonstrance, which contains some good sense, in very indifferent
poetry:

_An Epode to his worthy Friend_ JOHN DRYDEN, _to advise him not to
answer two malicious Pamphlets against his Tragedy called_ "The
Duke of Guise. " (_Marked by Luttrel, 10 March, 1683/4. _)

Can angry frowns rest on thy noble brow
For trivial things;
Or, can a stream of muddy water flow
From the Muses' springs;
Or great Apollo bend his vengeful bow
'Gainst popular stings?
Desist thy passion then; do not engage
Thyself against the wittols of the age.

Should we by stiff Tom Thimble's faction fall,
Lord, with what noise
The Coffee throats would bellow, and the Ball
O' the Change rejoice,
And with the company of Pinner's Hall
Lift up their voice!
Once the head's gone, the good cause is secure;
The members cannot long resist our power.

Crop not their humours; let the wits proceed
Till they have thrown
Their venom up; and made themselves indeed
Rare fops o'ergrown:
Let them on nasty garbage prey and feed,
Till all is done;
And, by thy great resentment, think it fit
To crush their hopes, as humble as their wit.

Consider the occasion, and you'll find
Yourself severe,
And unto rashness much more here inclined,
By far, than they're:
Consider them as in their proper kind,
'Tween rage and fear,
And then the reason will appear most plain,--
A worm that's trod on will turn back again.

What if they censure without brain or sense,
'Tis now the fashion;
Each giddy fop endeavours to commence
A reformation.
Pardon them for their native ignorance,
And brainsick passion;
For, after all, true men of sense will say,--
Their works can never parallel thy play.

'Twere fond to pamper spleen, 'cause owls detest
The light of day;
Or real nonsense, which endures no test,
Condemns thy play.
Lodge not such petty trifles in thy breast,
But bar their sway;
And let them know, that thy heroic bays
Can scorn their censure, as it doth their praise.

Think not thy answer will their nice reclaim,
Whose heads are proof
Against all reason, and in spite of shame
Will stand aloof;
'Twould cherish further libels on thy fame,
Should these thee move.
Stand firm, my Dryden, maugre all their plots,
Thy bays shall flourish when their ivy rots.

But if you are resolved to break your use,
And basely sin,
In answer; I'll be sworn some haggard muse
Has you in her gin;
Or in a fit you venture to abuse
Your Polyhymn',
You may serve him so far: But if you do,
All your true friends, sir, will reflect on you.

The remonstrance of this friendly poet was unavailing; Dryden having
soon after published the following Vindication.


Footnotes:
1. "A Defence of the Charter and Municipal Rights of the City of
London, and the Rights of other Municipal Cities and Towns of
England. Directed to the Citizens of London, by Thomas Hunt.

_Si populus vult decipi, decipiatur. _

London, printed, and to be sold, by Richard Baldwin. " 4to, pages
46.

Wood informs us, that Thomas Hunt, the author, was educated at
Queen's College, Cambridge, and was esteemed a person of quick
parts, and of a ready fluency in discourse, but withal too pert and
forward. He was called to the bar, and esteemed a good lawyer. In
1659 he became clerk of the assizes at Oxford circuit, but was
ejected from the office at the Restoration, to his great loss, to
make room for the true owner. He wrote, "An Argument for the
Bishops' right of judging in capital Cases in Parliament, &c. ;" for
which he expected (says Anthony) no less than to be made lord chief
baron of the exchequer in Ireland. But falling short of that
honourable office, which he too ambitiously catched at, and
considering the loss of another place, which he unjustly possessed,
he soon after appeared one of the worst and most inveterate enemies
to church and state that was in his time, and the most malicious,
and withal the most ignorant, scribbler of the whole herd; and was
thereupon stiled, by a noted author, (Dryden, in the following
Vindication,) _Magni nominis umbra_. Hunt also published, "Great
and weighty Considerations on the Duke of York, &c. " in favour of
the exclusion. He had also the boldness to republish his high
church tract in favour of the bishops' jurisdiction, with a whig
postscript tending to destroy his own arguments. --_Ath. Ox. _ II, p.
728.

2. A tory paper, then conducted with great zeal, and some
controversial talent, by Sir Roger L'Estrange.

3. Alluding to the fate of Stephen College, the Protestant joiner; a
meddling, pragmatical fellow, who put himself so far forward in the
disputes at Oxford, as to draw down the vengeance of the court. He
was very harshly treated during his trial; and though in the toils,
and deprived of all assistance, defended himself with right English
manliness. He was charged with the ballad on page 6. and with
coming to Oxford armed to attack the guards. He said he did not
deny he had pistols in his holsters at Oxford; to which Jefferies
answered, indecently, but not unaptly, he "thought a chissel might
have been more proper for a joiner. " Poor College was executed; a
vengeance unworthy of the king, who might have apostrophised him as
Hamlet does Polonius:

Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell;
I took thee for thy betters--take thy fortune.
Thou findst, to be too busy is some danger.

4. Anthony Wood is followed by Mr Malone in supposing, that Hunt
himself is the Templar alluded to. But Dryden seems obviously to
talk of the author of the Defence, and the two Reflectors, as three
separate persons. He calls them, "the sputtering triumvirate, Mr
Hunt, and the two Reflectors;" and again, "What says my lord chief
baron (i. e. Hunt) to the business? What says the livery-man
Templar? What says Og, the king of Basan (i. e. Shadwell) to it? "
The Templar may be discovered, when we learn, who hired a
livery-gown to give a vote among the electors.




THE

VINDICATION

OF

THE DUKE OF GUISE.


In the year of his majesty's happy Restoration, the first play I
undertook was the "Duke of Guise;" as the fairest way, which the Act
of Indemnity had then left us, of setting forth the rise of the late
rebellion; and by exploding the villainies of it upon the stage, to
precaution posterity against the like errors.

As this was my first essay, so it met with the fortune of an
unfinished piece; that is to say, it was damned in private, by the
advice of some friends to whom I shewed it; who freely told me, that
it was an excellent subject; but not so artificially wrought, as they
could have wished; and now let my enemies make their best of this
confession.

The scene of the Duke of Guise's return to Paris, against the king's
positive command, was then written. I have the copy of it still by me,
almost the same which it now remains, being taken verbatim out of
Davila; for where the action is remarkable, and the very words
related, the poet is not at liberty to change them much; and if he
will be adding any thing for ornament, it ought to be wholly of a
piece. This do I take for a sufficient justification of that scene,
unless they will make the pretended parallel to be a prophecy, as well
as a parallel of accidents, that were twenty years after to come. [1]
Neither do I find, that they can suggest the least colour for it in
any other part of the tragedy.

But now comes the main objection,--why was it stopt then? To which I
shall render this just account, with all due respects to those who
were the occasion of it.

Upon a wandering rumour (which I will divide betwixt malice and
mistake) that some great persons were represented, or personated in
it, the matter was complained of to my Lord Chamberlain; who,
thereupon, appointed the play to be brought to him, and prohibited the
acting of it until further order; commanding me, after this, to wait
upon his lordship; which I did, and humbly desired him to compare the
play with the history, from whence the subject was taken, referring to
the first scene of the fourth act, whereupon the exception was
grounded, and leaving Davila (the original) with his lordship. This
was before midsummer; and about two months after, I received the play
back again from his lordship, but without any positive order whether
it should be acted or not; neither was Mr Lee, or myself, any way
solicitous about it. But this indeed I ever said, that it was intended
for the king's service; and his majesty was the best judge, whether it
answered that end or no; and that I reckoned it my duty to submit, if
his majesty, for any reason whatsoever, should deem it unfit for the
stage. In the interim, a strict scrutiny was made, and no parallel of
the great person designed, could be made out. But this push failing,
there were immediately started some terrible insinuations, that the
person of his majesty was represented under that of Henry the Third;
which if they could have found out, would have concluded, perchance,
not only in the stopping of the play, but in the hanging up of the
poets. But so it was, that his majesty's wisdom and justice acquitted
both the one, and the other; and when the play itself was almost
forgotten, there were orders given for the acting of it.

This is matter of fact; and I have the honour of so great witnesses to
the truth of what I have delivered, that it will need no other appeal.
As to the exposing of any person living, our innocency is so clear,
that it is almost unnecessary to say, it was not in my thought; and,
as far as any one man can vouch for another, I do believe it was as
little in Mr Lee's. And now since some people have been so busy as to
cast out false and scandalous surmises, how far we two agreed upon the
writing of it, I must do a common right both to Mr Lee and myself, to
declare publicly, that it was at his earnest desire, without any
solicitation of mine, that this play was produced betwixt us. After
the writing of OEdipus, I passed a promise to join with him in
another; and he happened to claim the performance of that promise,
just upon the finishing of a poem,[2] when I would have been glad of a
little respite before the undertaking of a second task. The person,
that passed betwixt us, knows this to be true; and Mr Lee himself, I
am sure, will not disown it; So that I did not "seduce him to join
with me," as the malicious authors of the Reflections are pleased to
call it; but Mr Lee's loyalty is above so ridiculous a slander. I know
very well, that the town did ignorantly call and take this to be my
play; but I shall not arrogate to myself the merits of my friend.
Two-thirds of it belonged to him; and to me only the first scene of
the play; the whole fourth act, and the first half, or somewhat more,
of the fifth.

The pamphleteers, I know, do very boldly insinuate, that, "before the
acting of it, I took the whole play to myself; but finding afterwards
how ill success it had upon the stage, I threw as much of it as
possibly I could upon my fellow. " Now here are three damned lies
crowded together into a very little room; first, that I assumed any
part of it to myself, which I had not written; wherein I appeal, not
only to my particular acquaintance, but to the whole company of
actors, who will witness for me, that, in all the rehearsals, I never
pretended to any one scene of Mr Lee's, but did him all imaginable
right, in his title to the greater part of it. I hope I may, without
vanity, affirm to the world, that I never stood in need of borrowing
another man's reputation; and I have been as little guilty of the
injustice, of laying claim to any thing which was not my own. Nay, I
durst almost refer myself to some of the angry poets on the other
side, whether I have not rather countenanced and assisted their
beginnings, than hindered them from rising. [3] The two other falsities
are, the "ill success of the play," and "my disowning it. " The former
is manifestly without foundation; for it succeeded beyond my very
hopes, having been frequently acted, and never without a considerable
audience; and then it is a thousand to one, that, having no ground to
disown it, I did not disown it; but the universe to a nutshell that I
did not disown it for want of success, when it succeeded so much
beyond my expectation. But my malignant adversaries are the more
excusable for this coarse method of breaking in upon truth and good
manners, because it is the only way they have to gratify the genius
and the interest of the faction together; and never so much pains
taken neither, to so very, very little purpose. They decry the play,
but in such a manner, that it has the effect of a recommendation. They
call it "a dull entertainment;" and that is a dangerous word, I must
confess, from one of the greatest masters in human nature, of that
faculty. Now I can forgive them this reproach too, after all the rest;
for this play does openly discover the original and root of the
practices and principles, both of their party and cause; and they are
so well acquainted with all the trains and mazes of rebellion, that
there is nothing new to them in the whole history. Or what if it were
a little insipid, there was no conjuring that I remember in "Pope
Joan;" and the "Lancashire Witches" were without doubt the most
insipid jades that ever flew upon a stage; and even these, by the
favour of a party, made a shift to hold up their heads. [4] Now, if we
have out-done these plays in their own dull way, their authors have
some sort of privilege to throw the first stone; but we shall rather
chuse to yield the point of dulness, than contend for it, against so
indisputable a claim.

But "matters of state (it seems) are canvassed on the stage, and
things of the gravest concernment there managed;" and who were the
aggressors, I beseech you, but a few factious, popular hirelings, that
by tampering the theatres, and by poisoning the people, made a
play-house more seditious than a conventicle; so that the loyal party
crave only the same freedom of defending the government, which the
other took beforehand of exposing and defaming it. There was no
complaint of any disorders of the stage, in the bustle that was made
(even to the forming of a party) to uphold a farce of theirs. [5] Upon
the first day, the whole faction (in a manner) appeared; but after one
sight of it, they sent their proxies of serving-men and porters, to
clap in the right of their patrons; and it was impossible ever to have
gotten off the nonsense of three hours for half-a-crown, but for the
providence of so congruous an audience. Thus far, I presume, the
reckoning is even, for bad plays on both sides, and for plays written
for a party. I shall say nothing of their poets' affection to the
government; unless upon an absolute and an odious necessity. But to
return to the pretended Parallel.

I have said enough already to convince any man of common sense, that
there neither was, nor could be, any Parallel intended; and it will
farther appear, from the nature of the subject; there being no
relation betwixt Henry the Third and the Duke of Guise, except that of
the king's marrying into the family of Lorraine. If a comparison had
been designed, how easy had it been either to have found a story, or
to have invented one, where the ties of nature had been nearer? If we
consider their actions, or their persons, a much less proportion will
be yet found betwixt them; and if we bate the popularity, perhaps none
at all. If we consider them in reference to their parties, the one was
manifestly the leader; the other, at the worst, is but misled. The
designs of the one tended openly to usurpation; those of the other may
yet be interpreted more fairly; and I hope, from the natural candour
and probity of his temper, that it will come to a perfect submission
and reconcilement at last. But that which perfectly destroys this
pretended Parallel is, that our picture of the Duke of Guise is
exactly according to the original in the history; his actions, his
manners, nay, sometimes his very words, are so justly copied, that
whoever has read him in Davila, sees him the same here. There is no
going out of the way, no dash of a pen to make any by-feature resemble
him to any other man; and indeed, excepting his ambition, there was
not in France, or perhaps in any other country, any man of his age
vain enough to hope he could be mistaken for him. [6] So that if you
would have made a Parallel, we could not. And yet I fancy, that where
I make it my business to draw likeness, it will be no hard matter to
judge who sate for the picture. For the Duke of Guise's return to
Paris contrary to the king's order, enough already has been said; it
was too considerable in the story to be omitted, because it occasioned
the mischiefs that ensued. But in this likeness, which was only
casual, no danger followed. I am confident there was none intended;
and am satisfied that none was feared. But the argument drawn from our
evident design is yet, if possible, more convincing. The first words
of the prologue spake the play to be a Parallel, and then you are
immediately informed how far that Parallel extended, and of what it is
so: "The Holy League begot the Covenant, Guisards got the Whig, &c. "
So then it is not, (as the snarling authors of the Reflections tell
you) a Parallel of the men, but of the times; a Parallel of the
factions, and of the leaguers. And every one knows that this prologue
was written before the stopping of the play. Neither was the name
altered on any such account as they insinuate, but laid aside long
before, because a book called the Parallel had been printed,
resembling the French League to the English Covenant; and therefore we
thought it not convenient to make use of another man's title. [7] The
chief person in the tragedy, or he whose disasters are the subject of
it, may in reason give the name; and so it was called the "Duke of
Guise. " Our intention therefore was to make the play a Parallel
betwixt the Holy League, plotted by the house of Guise and its
adherents, with the Covenant plotted by the rebels in the time of king
Charles I. and those of the new Association, which was the spawn of
the old Covenant.

But this parallel is plain, that the exclusion of the lawful heir was
the main design of both parties; and that the endeavours to get the
lieutenancy of France established on the head of the League, is in
effect the same with offering to get the militia out of the king's
hand (as declared by parliament,) and consequently, that the power of
peace and war should be wholly in the people. It is also true that the
tumults in the city, in the choice of their officers, have had no
small resemblance with a Parisian rabble: and I am afraid that both
their faction and ours had the same good lord. I believe also, that if
Julian had been written and calculated for the Parisians, as it was
for our sectaries, one of their sheriffs might have mistaken too, and
called him Julian the Apostle. [8] I suppose I need not push this point
any further; where the parallel was intended, I am certain it will
reach; but a larger account of the proceedings in the city may be
expected from a better hand, and I have no reason to forestall it. [9]
In the mean time, because there has been no actual rebellion, the
faction triumph in their loyalty; which if it were out of principle,
all our divisions would soon be ended, and we the happy people, which
God and the constitution of our government have put us in condition to
be; but so long as they take it for a maxim, that the king is but an
officer in trust, that the people, or their representatives, are
superior to him, judges of miscarriages, and have power of revocation,
it is a plain case, that whenever they please they may take up arms;
and, according to their doctrine, lawfully too. Let them jointly
renounce this one opinion, as in conscience and law they are bound to
do, because both scripture and acts of parliament oblige them to it,
and we will then thank their obedience for our quiet, whereas now we
are only beholden to them for their fear. The miseries of the last war
are yet too fresh in all men's memory; and they are not rebels, only
because they have been so too lately. An author of theirs has told us
roundly the west-country proverb; _Chud eat more cheese, and chad it;_
their stomach is as good as ever it was; but the mischief on't is,
they are either muzzled, or want their teeth. If there were as many
fanatics now in England, as there were christians in the empire, when
Julian reigned, I doubt we should not find them much inclined to
passive obedience; and, "Curse ye Meroz"[10] would be oftener preached
upon, than "Give to Cæsar," except in the sense Mr Hunt means it.

Having clearly shewn wherein the parallel consisted, which no man can
mistake, who does not wilfully, I need not justify myself, in what
concerns the sacred person of his majesty. Neither the French history,
nor our own, could have supplied me, nor Plutarch himself, were he now
alive, could have found a Greek or Roman to have compared to him, in
that eminent virtue of his clemency; even his enemies must acknowledge
it to be superlative, because they live by it. Far be it from
flattery, if I say, that there is nothing under heaven, which can
furnish me with a parallel; and that, in his mercy, he is of all men
the truest image of his Maker.

Henry III. was a prince of a mixed character; he had, as an old
historian says of another, _magnas virtutes, nec minora vitia;_ but
amongst those virtues, I do not find his forgiving qualities to be
much celebrated. That he was deeply engaged in the bloody massacre of
St Bartholomew, is notoriously known; and if the relation printed in
the memoirs of Villeroy be true, he confesses there that the Admiral
having brought him and the queen-mother into suspicion with his
brother then reigning, for endeavouring to lessen his authority, and
draw it to themselves, he first designed his accuser's death by
Maurevel, who shot him with a carbine, but failed to kill him; after
which, he pushed on the king to that dreadful revenge, which
immediately succeeded. It is true, the provocations were high; there
had been reiterated rebellions, but a peace was now concluded; it was
solemnly sworn to by both parties, and as great an assurance of safety
given to the protestants, as the word of a king and public instruments
could make it. Therefore the punishment was execrable, and it pleased
God, (if we may dare to judge of his secret providence,) to cut off
that king in the very flower of his youth, to blast his successor in
his undertakings, to raise against him the Duke of Guise, the
complotter and executioner of that inhuman action, (who, by the divine
justice, fell afterwards into the same snare which he had laid for
others,) and, finally, to die a violent death himself, murdered by a
priest, an enthusiast of his own religion. [11] From these premises,
let it be concluded, if reasonably it can, that we could draw a
parallel, where the lines were so diametrically opposite. We were
indeed obliged, by the laws of poetry, to cast into shadows the vices
of this prince; for an excellent critic has lately told us, that when
a king is named, a hero is supposed;[12] it is a reverence due to
majesty, to make the virtues as conspicuous, and the vices as obscure,
as we can possibly; and this, we own, we have either performed, or at
least endeavoured. But if we were more favourable to that character
than the exactness of history would allow, we have been far from
diminishing a greater, by drawing it into comparison. You may see,
through the whole conduct of the play, a king naturally severe, and a
resolution carried on to revenge himself to the uttermost on the
rebellious conspirators. That this was sometimes shaken by reasons of
policy and pity, is confessed; but it always returned with greater
force, and ended at last in the ruin of his enemies. In the mean time
we cannot but observe the wonderful loyalty on the other side; that
the play was to be stopped, because the king was represented. May we
have many such proofs of their duty and respect! but there was no
occasion for them here. It is to be supposed, that his majesty himself
was made acquainted with this objection; if he were so, he was the
supreme and only judge of it; and then the event justifies us. If it
were inspected only by those whom he commanded, it is hard if his own
officers and servants should not see as much ill in it as other men,
and be as willing to prevent it; especially when there was no
solicitation used to have it acted. It is known that noble person,[13]
to whom it was referred, is a severe critic on good sense, decency,
and morality; and I can assure the world, that the rules of Horace are
more familiar to him, than they are to me. He remembers too well that
the _vetus comædia_ was banished from the Athenian theatre for its too
much licence in representing persons, and would never have pardoned it
in this or any play.

What opinion Henry III. had of his successor, is evident from the
words he spoke upon his deathbed: "he exhorted the nobility," says
Davila, "to acknowledge the king of Navarre, to whom the kingdom of
right belonged; and that they should not stick at the difference of
religion; for both the king of Navarre, a man of a sincere noble
nature, would in the end return into the bosom of the church, and the
pope, being better informed, would receive him into his favour, to
prevent the ruin of the whole kingdom. " I hope I shall not need in
this quotation to defend myself, as if it were my opinion, that the
pope has any right to dispose of kingdoms; my meaning is evident, that
the king's judgment of his brother-in-law, was the same which I have
copied; and I must farther add from Davila, that the arguments I have
used in defence of that succession were chiefly drawn from the king's
answer to the deputies, as they may be seen more at large in pages
730, and 731, of the first edition of that history in English. There
the three estates, to the wonder of all men, jointly concurred in
cutting off the succession; the clergy, who were managed by the
archbishop of Lyons and cardinal of Guise, were the first who promoted
it; and the commons and nobility afterwards consented, as referring
themselves, says our author, to the clergy; so that there was only the
king to stand in the gap; and he by artifice diverted that storm which
was breaking upon posterity.
The crown was then reduced to the lowest ebb of its authority; and the
king, in a manner, stood single, and yet preserved his negative
entire; but if the clergy and nobility had been on his part of the
balance, it might reasonably be supposed, that the meeting of those
estates at Blois had healed the breaches of the nation, and not forced
him to the _ratio ultima regum_, which is never to be praised, nor is
it here, but only excused as the last result of his necessity. As for
the parallel betwixt the king of Navarre, and any other prince now
living, what likeness the God of Nature, and the descent of virtues in
the same channel have produced, is evident; I have only to say, that
the nation certainly is happy, where the royal virtues of the
progenitors are derived on their descendants. [14]

In that scene, it is true, there is but one of the three estates
mentioned; but the other two are virtually included; for the
archbishop and cardinal are at the head of the deputies: And that the
rest are mute persons every critic understands the reason, _ne quarta
loqui persona laboret_. I am never willing to cumber the stage with
many speakers, when I can reasonably avoid it, as here I might. And
what if I had a mind to pass over the clergy and nobility of France in
silence, and to excuse them from joining in so illegal, and so ungodly
a decree? Am I tied in poetry to the strict rules of history? I have
followed it in this play more closely than suited with the laws of the
drama, and a great victory they will have, who shall discover to the
world this wonderful secret, that I have not observed the unities of
place and time; but are they better kept in the farce of the
"Libertine destroyed? "[15] It was our common business here to draw the
parallel of the times, and not to make an exact tragedy. For this once
we were resolved to err with honest Shakespeare; neither can
"Catiline" or "Sejanus," (written by the great master of our art,)
stand excused, any more than we, from this exception; but if we must
be criticised, some plays of our adversaries may be exposed, and let
them reckon their gains when the dispute is ended. I am accused of
ignorance, for speaking of the third estate, as not sitting in the
same house with the other two. Let not those gentlemen mistake
themselves; there are many things in plays to be accommodated to the
country in which we live; I spoke to the understanding of an English
audience. Our three estates now sit, and have long done so, in two
houses; but our records bear witness, that they, according to the
French custom, have sate in one; that is, the lords spiritual and
temporal within the bar, and the commons without it. If that custom
had been still continued here, it should have been so represented; but
being otherwise, I was forced to write so as to be understood by our
own countrymen. If these be errors, a bigger poet than either of us
two has fallen into greater, and the proofs are ready, whenever the
suit shall be recommenced.

Mr Hunt, the Jehu of the party, begins very furiously with me, and
says, "I have already condemned the charter and city, and have
executed the magistrates in effigy upon the stage, in a play called
the Duke of Guise, frequently acted and applauded, &c. [16]"

Compare the latter end of this sentence with what the two authors of
the Reflections, or perhaps the Associating Club of the
Devil-tavern[17] write in the beginning of their libel:--"Never was
mountain delivered of such a mouse; the fiercest Tories have been
ashamed to defend this piece; they who have any sparks of wit among
them are so true to their pleasure, that they will not suffer dulness
to pass upon them for wit, nor tediousness for diversion; which is the
reason that this piece has not met with the expected applause: I never
saw a play more deficient in wit, good characters, or entertainment,
than this is. "

For shame, gentlemen, pack your evidence a little better against
another time. You see, my lord chief baron[18] has delivered his
opinion, that the play was frequently acted and applauded; but you of
the jury have found _Ignoramus_, on the wit and the success of it.
Oates, Dugdale and Turberville, never disagreed more than you do; let
us know at last, which of the witnesses are true Protestants, and
which are Irish[19]. But it seems your authors had contrary designs:
Mr Hunt thought fit to say, "it was frequently acted and applauded,
because," says he, "it was intended to provoke the rabble into tumults
and disorder. " Now, if it were not seen frequently, this argument
would lose somewhat of its force. The Reflector's business went
another way; it was to be allowed no reputation, no success; but to be
damned root and branch, to prevent the prejudice it might do their
party: accordingly, as much as in them lay, they have drawn a bill of
exclusion for it on the stage. But what rabble was it to provoke? Are
the audience of a play-house, which are generally persons of honour,
noblemen, and ladies, or, at worst, as one of your authors calls his
gallants, men of wit and pleasure about the town[20],--are these the
rabble of Mr Hunt? I have seen a rabble at Sir Edmundbury Godfrey's
night, and have heard of such a name as true Protestant
meeting-houses; but a rabble is not to be provoked, where it never
comes. Indeed, we had one in this tragedy, but it was upon the stage;
and that's the reason why your Reflectors would break the glass, which
has shewed them their own faces. The business of the theatre is to
expose vice and folly; to dissuade men by examples from one, and to
shame them out of the other. And however you may pervert our good
intentions, it was here particularly to reduce men to loyalty, by
shewing the pernicious consequences of rebellion, and popular
insurrections. I believe no man, who loves the government, would be
glad to see the rabble in such a posture, as they were represented in
our play; but if the tragedy had ended on your side, the play had been
a loyal witty poem; the success of it should have been recorded by
immortal Og or Doeg[21], and the rabble scene should have been true
Protestant, though a whig-devil were at the head of it.

In the mean time, pray, where lies the relation betwixt the "Tragedy
of the Duke of Guise," and the charter of London? Mr Hunt has found a
rare connection, for he tacks them together, by the kicking of the
sheriff's. That chain of thought was a little ominous, for something
like a kicking has succeeded the printing of his book; and the charter
of London was the quarrel. For my part, I have not law enough to state
that question, much less decide it; let the charter shift for itself
in Westminster-hall the government is somewhat wiser than to employ my
ignorance on such a subject. My promise to honest Nat. Lee, was the
only bribe I had, to engage me in this trouble; for which he has the
good fortune to escape Scot-free, and I am left in pawn for the
reckoning, who had the least share in the entertainment. But the
rising, it seems, should have been on the true protestant side; "for
he has tried," says ingenious Mr Hunt, "what he could do, towards
making the charter forfeitable, by some extravagancy and disorder of
the people. " A wise man I had been, doubtless, for my pains, to raise
the rabble to a tumult, where I had been certainly one of the first
men whom they had limbed, or dragged to the next convenient sign-post.

But on second thought, he says, this ought not to move the citizens.
He is much in the right; for the rabble scene was written on purpose
to keep his party of them in the bounds of duty. It is the business of
factious men to stir up the populace: Sir Edmond on horseback,
attended by a swinging pope in effigy, and forty thousand true
protestants for his guard to execution, are a show more proper for
that design, than a thousand stage-plays[22].

Well, he has fortified his opinion with a reason, however, why the
people should not be moved; "because I have so maliciously and
mischievously represented the king, and the king's son; nay, and his
favourite," saith he, "the duke too; to whom I give the worst strokes
of my unlucky fancy. "

This need not be answered; for it is already manifest that neither the
king, nor the king's son, are represented; neither that son he means,
nor any of the rest, God bless them all. What strokes of my unlucky
fancy I have given to his royal highness, will be seen; and it will be
seen also, who strikes him worst and most unluckily.

"The Duke of Guise," he tells us, "ought to have represented a great
prince, that had inserved to some most detestable villainy, to please
the rage or lust of a tyrant; such great courtiers have been often
sacrificed, to appease the furies of the tyrant's guilty conscience;
to expiate for his sin, and to attone the people. For a tyrant
naturally stands in fear of such wicked ministers, is obnoxious to
them, awed by them, and they drag him to greater evils, for their own
impunity, than they perpetrated for his pleasure, and their own
ambition[23]. "

Sure, he said not all this for nothing. I would know of him, on what
persons he would fix the sting of this sharp satire? What two they
are, whom, to use his own words, he "so maliciously and mischievously
would represent? " For my part, I dare not understand the villainy of
his meaning; but somebody was to have been shown a tyrant, and some
other "a great prince, inserving to some detestable villainy, and to
that tyrant's rage and lust;" this great prince or courtier ought to
be sacrificed, to atone the people, and the tyrant is persuaded, for
his own interest, to give him up to public justice. I say no more, but
that he has studied the law to good purpose. He is dancing on the rope
without a metaphor; his knowledge of the law is the staff that poizes
him, and saves his neck. The party, indeed, speaks out sometimes, for
wickedness is not always so wise as to be secret, especially when it
is driven to despair. By some of their discourses, we may guess at
whom he points; but he has fenced himself in with so many evasions,
that he is safe in his sacrilege; and he, who dares to answer him, may
become obnoxious. It is true, he breaks a little out of the clouds,
within two paragraphs; for there he tells you, that "Caius Cæsar (to
give into Cæsar the things that were Cæsar's,) was in the catiline
conspiracy;" a fine insinuation this, to be sneered at by his party,
and yet not to be taken hold of by public justice. They would be glad
now, that I, or any man, should bolt out their covert treason for
them; for their loop-hole is ready, that the Cæsar, here spoken of,
was a private man. But the application of the text declares the
author's to be another Cæsar; which is so black and so infamous an
aspersion, that nothing less than the highest clemency can leave it
unpunished. I could reflect on his ignorance in this place, for
attributing these words to Cæsar, "He that is not with us, is against
us:" He seems to have mistaken them out of the New-Testament, and that
is the best defence I can make for him; for if he did it knowingly, it
was impiously done, to put our Saviour's words into Cæsar's mouth. But
his law and our gospel are two things; this gentleman's knowledge is
not of the bible, any more than his practice is according to it. He
tells you, he will give the world a taste of my atheism and impiety;
for which he quotes these following verses, in the second or third act
of the "Duke of Guise. "

For conscience or heaven's fear, religious rules,
Are all state bells, to toll in pious fools.

In the first place, he is mistaken in his man, for the verses are not
mine, but Mr Lee's: I asked him concerning them, and have this
account,--that they were spoken by the devil; now, what can either
whig or devil say, more proper to their character, than that religion
is only a name, a stalking-horse, as errant a property as godliness
and property themselves are amongst their party? Yet for these two
lines, which, in the mouth that speaks them, are of no offence, he
halloos on the whole pack against me: judge, justice, surrogate, and
official are to be employed, at his suit, to direct process; and
boring through the tongue for blasphemy, is the least punishment his
charity will allow me.

I find it is happy for me, that he was not made a judge, and yet I had
as lieve have him my judge as my council, if my life were at stake. My
poor Lord Stafford was well helped up with this gentleman for his
solicitor: no doubt, he gave that unfortunate nobleman most admirable
advice towards the saving of his life; and would have rejoiced
exeedingly, to have seen him cleared[24]. I think, I have disproved
his instance of my atheism; it remains for him to justify his
religion, in putting the words of Christ into a Heathen's mouth; and
much more in his prophane allusion to the scripture, in the other
text,--"Give unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's;" which, if it be
not a profanation of the bible, for the sake of a silly witticism, let
all men, but his own party, judge. I am not malicious enough to return
him the names which he has called me; but of all sins, I thank God, I
have always abhorred atheism; and I had need be a better Christian
than Mr Hunt has shown himself, if I forgive him so infamous a
slander.

But as he has mistaken our Saviour for Julius Cæsar, so he would
Pompey too, if he were let alone; to him, and to his cause, or to the
like cause it belonged, he says, to use these words:--"he that is not
for us is against us. " I find he cares not whose the expression is, so
it be not Christ's. But how comes Pompey the Great to be a whig? He
was, indeed, a defender of the ancient established Roman government;
but Cæsar was the whig who took up arms unlawfully to subvert it. Our
liberties and our religion both are safe; they are secured to us by
the laws; and those laws are executed under an established government,
by a lawful king. The Defender of our Faith is the defender of our
common freedom; to cabal, to write, to rail against this
administration are all endeavours to destroy the government; and to
oppose the succession, in any private man, is a treasonable practice
against the foundation of it. Pompey very honourably maintained the
liberty of his country, which was governed by a common-wealth: so that
there lies no parallel betwixt his cause and Mr Hunt's, except in the
bare notion of a common-wealth, as it is opposed to monarchy; and
that's the thing he would obliquely slur upon us. Yet on these
premises, he is for ordering my lord chief justice to grant out
warrants against all those who have applauded the "Duke of Guise;" as
if they committed a riot when they clapped. I suppose they paid for
their places, as well as he and his party did, who hissed. If he were
not half distracted, for not being lord chief baron, methinks he
should be lawyer enough to advise my lord chief justice better. To
clap and hiss are the privileges of a free-born subject in a
playhouse: they buy them with their money, and their hands and mouths
are their own property. It belongs to the Master of the Revels to see
that no treason or immorality be in the play; but when it is acted,
let every man like or dislike freely: not but that respect should be
used too, in the presence of the king; for by his permission the
actors are allowed: it is due to his person, as he is sacred; and to
the successors, as being next related to him: there are opportunities
enow for men to hiss, who are so disposed, in their absence; for when
the king is in sight, though but by accident, a malefactor is
reprieved from death. Yet such is the duty, and good manners of these
good subjects, that they forbore not some rudeness in his majesty's
presence; but when his Royal Highness and his court were only there,
they pushed it as far as their malice had power; and if their party
had been more numerous, the affront had been greater.

The next paragraph of our author's is a panegyric on the Duke of
Monmouth, which concerns not me, who am very far from detracting from
him. The obligations I have had to him, were those of his countenance,
his favour, his good word, and his esteem; all which I have likewise
had, in a greater measure, from his excellent duchess, the patroness
of my poor unworthy poetry. If I had not greater, the fault was never
in their want of goodness to me, but in my own backwardness to ask,
which has always, and, I believe, will ever, keep me from rising in
the world. Let this be enough, with reasonable men, to clear me from
the imputation of an ungrateful man, with which my enemies have most
unjustly taxed me. If I am a mercenary scribbler, the lords
commissioners of the treasury best know: I am sure, they have found me
no importunate solicitor; for I know myself, I deserved little, and,
therefore, have never desired much. I return that slander, with just
disdain, on my accusers: it is for men who have ill consciences to
suspect others; I am resolved to stand or fall with the cause of my
God, my king, and country; never to trouble myself for any railing
aspersions, which I have not deserved; and to leave it as a portion to
my children,--that they had a father, who durst do his duty, and was
neither covetous nor mercenary.

As little am I concerned at that imputation of my back-friends, that I
have confessed myself to be put on to write as I do. If they mean this
play in particular, that is notoriously proved against them to be
false; for the rest of my writings, my hatred of their practices and
principles was cause enough to expose them as I have done, and will do
more. I do not think as they do; for, if I did, I must think treason;
but I must in conscience write as I do, because I know, which is more
than thinking, that I write for a lawful established government,
against anarchy, innovation, and sedition: but "these lies (as prince
Harry said to Falstaff) are as gross as he that made them[25]. " More I
need not say, for I am accused without witness. I fear not any of
their evidences, not even him of Salamanca; who though he has disowned
his doctorship in Spain, yet there are some allow him to have taken a
certain degree in Italy; a climate, they say, more proper for his
masculine constitution[26]. To conclude this ridiculous accusation
against me, I know but four men, in their whole party, to whom I have
spoken for above this year last past; and with them neither, but
casually and cursorily. We have been acquaintance of a long standing,
many years before this accursed plot divided men into several parties;
I dare call them to witness, whether the most I have at any time said
will amount to more than this, that "I hoped the time would come, when
these names of whig and tory would cease among us; and that we might
live together, as we had done formerly. " I have, since this pamphlet,
met accidentally with two of them; and I am sure, they are so far from
being my accusers, that they have severally owned to me, that all men,
who espouse a party, must expect to be blackened by the contrary side;
that themselves knew nothing of it, nor of the authors of the
"Reflections. " It remains, therefore, to be considered, whether, if I
were as much a knave as they would make me, I am fool enough to be
guilty of this charge; and whether they, who raised it, would have
made it public, if they had thought I was theirs inwardly. For it is
plain, they are glad of worse scribblers than I am, and maintain them
too, as I could prove, if I envied them their miserable subsistence. I
say no more, but let my actions speak for me: _Spectemur
agendo,_--that is the trial.

Much less am I concerned at the noble name of Bayes; that is a brat so
like his own father, that he cannot be mistaken for any other
body[27]. They might as reasonably have called Tom Sternhold, Virgil,
and the resemblance would have held as well.

As for knave, and sycophant, and rascal, and impudent, and devil, and
old serpent, and a thousand such good morrows, I take them to be only
names of parties; and could return murderer, and cheat, and
whig-napper, and sodomite; and, in short, the goodly number of the
seven deadly sins, with all their kindred and relations, which are
names of parties too; but saints will be saints, in spite of villainy.
I believe they would pass themselves upon us for such a compound as
mithridate, or Venice-treacle; as if whiggism were an admirable
cordial in the mass, though the several ingredients are rank poisons.

But if I think either Mr Hunt a villain, or know any of my Reflectors
to be ungrateful rogues, I do not owe them so much kindness as to call
them so; for I am satisfied that to prove them either, would but
recommend them to their own party. Yet if some will needs make a merit
of their infamy, and provoke a legend of their sordid lives, I think
they must be gratified at last; and though I will not take the
scavenger's employment from him, yet I may be persuaded to point at
some men's doors, who have heaps of filth before them. But this must
be when they have a little angered me; for hitherto I am provoked no
further than to smile at them. And indeed, to look upon the whole
faction in a lump, never was a more pleasant sight than to behold
these builders of a new Babel, how ridiculously they are mixed, and
what a rare confusion there is amongst them. One part of them is
carrying stone and mortar for the building of a meeting-house; another
sort understand not that language; they are for snatching away their
work-fellows' materials to set up a bawdy-house: some of them
blaspheme, and others pray; and both, I believe, with equal godliness
at bottom: some of them are atheists, some sectaries, yet all true
protestants. Most of them love all whores, but her of Babylon. In few
words, any man may be what he will, so he be one of them. It is enough
to despise the King, to hate the Duke, and rail at the succession:
after this it is no matter how a man lives; he is a saint by
infection; he goes along with the party, has their mark upon him; his
wickedness is no more than frailty; their righteousness is imputed to
him: so that, as ignorant rogues go out doctors when a prince comes to
an university, they hope, at the last day, to take their degree in a
crowd of true protestants, and thrust unheeded into heaven[28].

It is a credit to be railed at by such men as these. The charter-man,
in the very title-page, where he hangs out the cloth of the city
before his book, gives it for his motto, _Si populus vult decipi,
decipiatur_[29]; as if he should have said, "you have a mind to be
cozened, and the devil give you good on't. " If I cry a sirreverence,
and you take it for honey, make the best of your bargain. For shame,
good Christians, can you suffer such a man to starve, when you see his
design is upon your purses? He is contented to expose the ears
representative of your party on the pillory, and is in a way of doing
you more service than a worn-out witness, who can hang nobody
hereafter but himself. He tells you, "The papists clap their hands, in
the hopes they conceive of the ruin of your government:" Does not this
single syllable _your_ deserve a pension, if he can prove the
government to be yours, and that the king has nothing to do in your
republic? He continues, as if that were as sure and certain to them,
as it is to us, without doubt, that they (the papists) once fired the
city, just as certain in your own consciences. I wish the papists had
no more to answer for than that accusation. Pray let it be put to the
vote, and resolved upon the question, by your whole party, that the
North-east wind is not only ill-affected to man and beast, but is also
a tory or tantivy papist in masquerade[30]. I am satisfied, not to
have "so much art left me, as to frame any thing agreeable, or
verisimilar;" but it is plain that he has, and therefore, as I ought
in justice, I resign my laurel, and my bays too, to Mr Hunt; it is he
sets up for the poet now, and has the only art to amuse and to deceive
the people. You may see how profound his knowledge is in poetry; for
he tells you just before, "that my heroes are commonly such monsters
as Theseus and Hercules; renowned throughout all ages for
destroying[31]. " Now Theseus and Hercules, you know, have been the
heroes of all poets, and have been renowned through all ages, for
destroying monsters, for succouring the distressed, and for putting to
death inhuman arbitrary tyrants. Is this your oracle? If he were to
write the acts and monuments of whig heroes, I find they should be
quite contrary to mine: Destroyers indeed,--but of a lawful
government; murderers,--but of their fellow-subjects; lovers, as
Hercules was of Hylas; with a journey at last to hell, like that of
Theseus.

But mark the wise consequences of our author. "I have not," he says,
"so much art left me to make any thing agreeable, or verisimilar,
wherewith to amuse or deceive the people. " And yet, in the very next
paragraph, "my province is to corrupt the manners of the nation, and
lay waste their morals, and my endeavours are more happily applied, to
extinguish the little remainders of the virtue of the age. " Now, I am
to perform all this, it seems, without making any thing verisimilar or
agreeable! Why, Pharaoh never set the Israelites such a task, to build
pyramids without brick or straw. If the fool knows it not,
verisimilitude and agreeableness are the very tools to do it; but I am
willing to disclaim them both, rather than to use them to so ill
purpose as he has done.

Yet even this their celebrated writer knows no more of stile and
English than the Northern dictator; as if dulness and clumsiness were
fatal to the name of _Tom_. It is true, he is a fool in three
languages more than the poet; for, they say, "he understands Latin,
Greek, and Hebrew," from all which, to my certain knowledge, I acquit
the other. Og may write against the king, if he pleases, so long as he
drinks for him, and his writings will never do the government so much
harm, as his drinking does it good; for true subjects will not be much
perverted by his libels; but the wine-duties rise considerably by his
claret. He has often called me an atheist in print; I would believe
more charitably of him, and that he only goes the broad way, because
the other is too narrow for him. He may see, by this, I do not delight
to meddle with his course of life, and his immoralities, though I have
a long bead-roll of them. I have hitherto contented myself with the
ridiculous part of him, which is enough, in all conscience, to employ
one man; even without the story of his late fall at the Old Devil,
where he broke no ribs, because the hardness of the stairs could reach
no bones; and, for my part, I do not wonder how he came to fall, for I
have always known him heavy: the miracle is, how he got up again. I
have heard of a sea captain as fat as he, who, to escape arrests,
would lay himself flat upon the ground, and let the bailiffs carry him
to prison, if they could. If a messenger or two, nay, we may put in
three or four, should come, he has friendly advertisement how to
escape them. But to leave him, who is not worth any further
consideration, now I have done laughing at him,--would every man knew
his own talent, and that they, who are only born for drinking, would
let both poetry and prose alone[32]!

I am weary with tracing the absurdities and mistakes of our great
lawyer, some of which indeed are wilful; as where he calls the
_Trimmers_ the more moderate sort of tories. It seems those
politicians are odious to both sides; for neither own them to be
theirs. We know them, and so does he too in his conscience, to be
secret whigs, if they are any thing; but now the designs of whiggism
are openly discovered, they tack about to save a stake; that is, they
will not be villains to their own ruin. While the government was to be
destroyed, and there was probability of compassing it, no men were so
violent as they; but since their fortunes are in hazard by the law,
and their places at court by the king's displeasure, they pull in
their horns, and talk more peaceably; in order, I suppose, to their
vehemence on the right side, if they were to be believed. For in
laying of colours, they observe a medium; black and white are too far
distant to be placed directly by one another, without some shadowings
to soften their contrarieties. It is Mariana, I think, (but am not
certain) that makes the following relation; and let the noble family
of Trimmers read their own fortune in it. "Don Pedro, king of Castile,
surnamed the Cruel, who had been restored by the valour of our Edward
the Black Prince, was finally dispossessed by Don Henry, the bastard,
and he enjoyed the kingdom quietly, till his death; which when he felt
approaching, he called his son to him, and gave him this his last
counsel. I have (said he,) gained this kingdom, which I leave you, by
the sword; for the right of inheritance was in Don Pedro; but the
favour of the people, who hated my brother for his tyranny, was to me
instead of title. You are now to be the peaceable possessor of what I
have unjustly gotten; and your subjects are composed of these three
sorts of men. One party espoused my brother's quarrel, which was the
undoubted lawful cause; those, though they were my enemies, were men
of principle and honour: Cherish them, and exalt them into places of
trust about you, for in them you may confide safely, who prized their
fidelity above their fortune. Another sort, are they who fought my
cause against Don Pedro; to those you are indeed obliged, because of
the accidental good they did me; for they intended only their private
benefit, and helped to raise me, that I might afterwards promote them:
you may continue them in their offices, if you please; but trust them
no farther than you are forced; for what they did was against their
conscience. But there is a third sort, which, during the whole wars,
were neuters; let them be crushed on all occasions, for their business
was only their own security. They had neither courage enough to engage
on my side, nor conscience enough to help their lawful sovereign:
_Therefore let them be made examples, as the worst sort of interested
men, which certainly are enemies to both, and would be profitable to
neither. _"

I have only a dark remembrance of this story, and have not the Spanish
author by me, but, I think, I am not much mistaken in the main of it;
and whether true or false, the counsel given, I am sure, is such, as
ought, in common prudence, to be practised against Trimmers, whether
the lawful or unlawful cause prevail. Loyal men may justly be
displeased with this party, not for their moderation, as Mr Hunt
insinuates, but because, under that mask of seeming mildness, there
lies hidden either a deep treachery, or, at best, an interested
luke-warmness. But he runs riot into almost treasonable expressions,
as if "Trimmers were hated because they are not perfectly wicked, or
perfectly deceived; of the Catiline make, bold, and without
understanding; that can adhere to men that publicly profess murders,
and applaud the design:" by all which villainous names he
opprobriously calls his majesty's most loyal subjects; as if men must
be perfectly wicked, who endeavour to support a lawful government; or
perfectly deceived, who on no occasion dare take up arms against their
sovereign: as if acknowledging the right of succession, and resolving
to maintain it in the line, were to be in a Catiline conspiracy; and
at last, (which is ridiculous enough, after so much serious treason)
as if "to clap the Duke of Guise" were to adhere to men that publicly
profess murders, and applaud the design of the assassinating poets.

But together with his villainies, pray let his incoherences be
observed. He commends the Trimmers, (at least tacitly excuses them)
for men of some moderation; and this in opposition to the instruments
of wickedness of the Catiline make, that are resolute and forward, and
without consideration. But he forgets all this in the next twenty
lines; for there he gives them their own, and tells them roundly, _in
internecino bello, medii pro hostibus habentur. _ Neutral men are
traitors, and assist by their indifferency to the destruction of the
government. The plain English of his meaning is this; while matters
are only in dispute, and in machination, he is contented they should
be moderate; but when once the faction can bring about a civil war,
then they are traitors, if they declare not openly for them.

"But it is not," says he, "the Duke of Guise who is to be
assassinated, a turbulent, wicked, and haughty courtier, but an
innocent and gentle prince. " By his favour, our Duke of Guise was
neither innocent nor gentle, nor a prince of the blood royal, though
he pretended to descend from Charlemagne, and a genealogy was printed
to that purpose, for which the author was punished, as he deserved;
witness Davila, and the journals of Henry III. where the story is at
large related. Well, who is it then? why, "it is a prince who has no
fault, but that he is the king's son:" then he has no fault by
consequence; for I am certain, that is no fault of his. The rest of
the compliment is so silly, and so fulsome, as if he meant it all in
ridicule; and to conclude the jest, he says, that "the best people of
England have no other way left, to shew their loyalty to the king,
their religion and government, in long intervals of parliament, than
by prosecuting his son, for the sake of the king, and his own merit,
with all the demonstrations of the highest esteem. "

Yes, I can tell them one other way to express their loyalty, which is,
to obey the king, and to respect his brother, as the next lawful
successor; their religion commands them both, and the government is
secured in so doing. But why in intervals of parliament? How are they
more obliged to honour the king's son out of parliament, than in it?
And why this prosecution of love for the king's sake? Has he ordered
more love to be shewn to one son, than to another? Indeed, his own
quality is cause sufficient for all men to respect him, and I am of
their number, who truly honour him, and who wish him better than this
miserable sycophant; for I wish him, from his father's royal kindness,
what justice can make him, which is a greater honour than the rabble
can confer upon him.

But our author finds, that commendation is no more his talent, than
flattery was that of Æsop's ass; and therefore falls immediately, from
pawing with his fore-feet, and grinning upon one prince, to downright
braying against another.

He says, I have not used "my patron duke much better; for I have put
him under a most dismal and unfortunate character of a successor,
excluded from the crown by act of state, for his religion; who fought
his way to the crown, changed his religion, and died by the hand of a
Roman assassinate. "

If it please his Royal Highness to be my patron, I have reason to be
proud of it; because he never yet forsook any man, whom he has had the
goodness to own for his. But how have I put him under an unfortunate
character? the authors of the Reflections, and our John-a-Nokes, have
not laid their noddles together about this accusation. For it is their
business to prove the king of Navarre to have been a most successful,
magnanimous, gentle, and grateful prince; in which character they have
followed the stream of all historians. How then happens this jarring
amongst friends, that the same man is put under such dismal
circumstances on one side, and so fortunate on the other, by the
writers of the same party? The answer is very plain; that they take
the cause by several handles. They, who will not have the Duke
resemble the king of Navarre, have magnified the character of that
prince, to debase his Royal Highness; and therein done what they can
to shew the disparity. Mr Hunt, who will have it to be the Duke's
character, has blackened that king as much as he is able, to shew the
likeness. Now this would be ridiculous pleading at a bar, by lawyers
retained for the same cause; and both sides would call each other
fools, because the jury betwixt them would be confounded, and perhaps
the judges too.

But this it is to have a bad cause, which puts men of necessity upon
knavery; and that knavery is commonly found out. Well, Mr Hunt has in
another place confessed himself to be in passion, and that is the
reason he is so grosly mistaken in opening of the cause. For, first,
the king of Navarre was neither under dismal, nor unfortunate
circumstances: before the end of that very sentence, our lawyer has
confessed, that he fought his way to the crown; that is, he gloriously
vanquished all his rebels, and happily possessed his inheritance many
years after he had regained it. In the next place, he was never
excluded from the crown by act of state. He changed his religion
indeed, but not until he had almost weathered the storm, recovered the
best part of his estate, and gained some glorious victories in pitched
battles; so that his changing cannot without injustice be attributed
to his fear. Monsieur Chiverny, in his Memoirs of those times, plainly
tells us, that he solemnly promised to his predecessor Henry III. then
dying, that he would become a Romanist; and Davila, though he says not
this directly, yet denies it not. By whose hands Henry IV. died, is
notoriously known; but it is invidiously urged, both by Mr Hunt and
the Reflectors: for we may, to our shame, remember, that a king of our
own country was barbarously murdered by his subjects, who professed
the same religion; though I believe, that neither Jaques Clement, nor
Ravaillac, were better papists, than the independents and
presbyterians were protestants; so that their argument only proves,
that there are rogues of all religions: _Iliacos infra muros peccatur,
et extra. _ But Mr Hunt follows his blow again, that I have "offered a
justification of an act of exclusion against a popish successor in a
protestant kingdom, by remembering what was done against the king of
Navarre, who was _de facto_ excluded by an act of state. " My
gentleman, I perceive, is very willing to call that an act of
exclusion, and an act of state, which is only, in our language, called
a bill; for Henry III. could never be gained to pass it, though it was
proposed by the three estates at Blois. The Reflectors are more
modest; for they profess, (though I am afraid it is somewhat against
the grain,) that a vote of the House of Commons is not an act; but the
times are turned upon them, and they dare speak no other language. Mr
Hunt, indeed, is a bold republican, and tells you the bottom of their
meaning. Yet why should it make the "courage of his Royal Highness
quail, to find himself under this representation," which; by our
author's favour, is neither dismal, nor disastrous? Henry IV. escaped
this dreadful machine of the League; I say dreadful, for the three
estates were at that time composed generally of Guisards, factious,
hot-headed, rebellious interested men. The king in possession was but
his brother-in-law, and at the time publicly his enemy; for the king
of Navarre was then in arms against him; and yet the sense of common
justice, and the good of his people so prevailed, that he withstood
the project of the states, which he also knew was levelled at himself;
for had the exclusion proceeded, he had been immediately laid by, and
the lieutenancy of France conferred on Guise; after which the rebel
would certainly have put up his title for the crown. In the case of
his Royal Highness, only one of the three estates have offered at the
exclusion, and have been constantly opposed by the other two, and by
his majesty. Neither is it any way probable, that the like will ever
be again attempted; for the fatal consequences, as well as the
illegality of that design, are seen through already by the people; so
that, instead of offering a justification of an act of exclusion, I
have exposed a rebellious, impious, and fruitless contrivance tending
to it.