No More Learning

The grim logician puts them in a fright;
'Tis easier far to flourish than to fight. [196]
Thus, our eighth Henry's marriage they defame;}
They say, the schism of beds began the game, }
Divorcing from the church to wed the dame; }
Though largely proved, and by himself professed,
That conscience, conscience would not let him rest,--[197]
I mean, not till possessed of her he loved,
And old, uncharming Catherine was removed.
For sundry years before he did complain,
And told his ghostly confessor his pain.
With the same impudence, without a ground, }
They say, that, look the reformation round,}
No treatise of humility is found. [198] }
But if none were, the gospel does not want; }
Our Saviour preached it, and I hope you grant,}
The sermon on the mount was protestant. -- }
No doubt, replied the Hind, as sure as all}
The writings of Saint Peter and Saint Paul; }
On that decision let it stand, or fall. }
Now for my converts, who, you say, unfed,
Have followed me for miracles of bread.
Judge not by hearsay, but observe at least,
If since their change their loaves have been increased.
The Lion buys no converts; if he did,
Beasts would be sold as fast as he could bid.
Tax those of interest, who conform for gain,
Or stay the market of another reign:
Your broad-way sons[199] would never be too nice
To close with Calvin, if he paid their price;
But, raised three steeples higher, would change their note,
And quit the cassock for the canting-coat.
Now, if you damn this censure, as too bold,
Judge by yourselves, and think not others sold.
Meantime, my sons accused, by fame's report,
Pay small attendance at the Lion's court,
Nor rise with early crowds, nor flatter late;
For silently they beg, who daily wait.
Preferment is bestowed, that comes unsought;
Attendance is a bribe, and then 'tis bought.
How they should speed, their fortune is untried;
For not to ask, is not to be denied.
For what they have, their God and king they bless,
And hope they should not murmur, had they less.
But if reduced subsistence to implore,
In common prudence they would pass your door;
Unpitied Hudibras, your champion friend,[200]
Has shown how far your charities extend.
This lasting verse shall on his tomb be read,
"He shamed you living, and upbraids you dead. "
With odious atheist names you load your foes;}
Your liberal clergy why did I expose? }
It never fails in charities like those. [201] }
In climes where true religion is professed,
That imputation were no laughing jest;
But _imprimatur_, with a chaplain's name,
Is here sufficient licence to defame. [202]
What wonder is't that black detraction thrives? }
The homicide of names is less than lives; }
And yet the perjured murderer survives. -- }
This said, she paused a little, and suppressed
The boiling indignation of her breast.
She knew the virtue of her blade, nor would
Pollute her satire with ignoble blood;
Her panting foe she saw before her eye,
And back she drew the shining weapon dry.
So when the generous Lion has in sight
His equal match, he rouses for the fight;
But when his foe lies prostrate on the plain,
He sheaths his paws, uncurls his angry mane,
And, pleased with bloodless honours of the day,
Walks over, and disdains the inglorious prey.
So James, if great with less we may compare,
Arrests his rolling thunder-bolts in air;
And grants ungrateful friends a lengthened space,
To implore the remnants of long-suffering grace.
This breathing-time the matron took; and then
Resumed the thread of her discourse again. --
Be vengeance wholly left to powers divine,
And let heaven judge betwixt your sons and mine:
If joys hereafter must be purchased here
With loss of all that mortals hold so dear,
Then welcome infamy and public shame,
And last, a long farewell to worldly fame! [203]
'Tis said with ease, but, oh, how hardly tried}
By haughty souls to human honour tied! }
O sharp convulsive pangs of agonizing pride! }
Down then, thou rebel, never more to rise! }
And what thou didst, and dost, so dearly prize, }
That fame, that darling fame, make that thy sacrifice. }
'Tis nothing thou hast given; then add thy tears
For a long race of unrepenting years:
'Tis nothing yet, yet all thou hast to give:
Then add those may-be years thou hast to live:
Yet nothing still: then poor and naked come, }
Thy father will receive his unthrift home, }
And thy blest Saviour's blood discharge the mighty sum. }
Thus, she pursued, I discipline a son,
Whose unchecked fury to revenge would run;
He champs the bit, impatient of his loss,
And starts aside, and flounders at the cross.
Instruct him better, gracious God, to know,
As thine is vengeance, so forgiveness too;
That, suffering from ill tongues, he bears no more
Than what his sovereign bears, and what his Saviour bore.
It now remains for you to school your child,[204]
And ask why God's anointed he reviled;
A king and princess dead! did Shimei worse?
The curser's punishment should fright the curse;
Your son was warned, and wisely gave it o'er,
But he, who counselled him, has paid the score;[205]
The heavy malice could no higher tend,
But woe to him on whom the weights descend.
So to permitted ills the demon flies;
His rage is aimed at him who rules the skies:
Constrained to quit his cause, no succour found,
The foe discharges every tire around,
In clouds of smoke abandoning the fight,
But his own thundering peals proclaim his flight.
In Henry's change his charge as ill succeeds;}
To that long story little answer needs; }
Confront but Henry's words with Henry's deeds. }
Were space allowed, with ease it might be proved,
What springs his blessed reformation moved.
The dire effects appeared in open sight, }
Which from the cause he calls a distant flight, }
And yet no larger leap than from the sun to light. }
Now last your sons a double pæan sound,
A treatise of humility is found.
'Tis found, but better it had ne'er been sought,
Than thus in Protestant procession brought.
The famed original through Spain is known, }
Rodriguez' work, my celebrated son, }
Which yours, by ill-translating, made his own;[206]}
Concealed its author, and usurped the name,
The basest and ignoblest theft of fame.
My altars kindled first that living coal;
Restore, or practise better what you stole;
That virtue could this humble verse inspire,
'Tis all the restitution I require. --
Glad was the Panther that the charge was closed,
And none of all her favourite sons exposed;
for laws of arms permit each injured man,
To make himself a saver where he can.
Perhaps the plundered merchant cannot tell
The names of pirates in whose hands he fell;
But at the den of thieves he justly flies,
And every Algerine is lawful prize;
No private person in the foe's estate
Can plead exemption from the public fate.
Yet Christian laws allow not such redress;
Then let the greater supersede the less.
But let the abettors of the Panther's crime
Learn to make fairer wars another time.
Some characters may sure be found to write }
Among her sons; for 'tis no common sight, }
A spotted dam, and all her offspring white. }
The savage, though she saw her plea controuled,
Yet would not wholly seem to quit her hold,
But offered fairly to compound the strife,
And judge conversion by the convert's life.
'Tis true, she said, I think it somewhat strange,
So few should follow profitable change;
For present joys are more to flesh and blood,
Than a dull prospect of a distant good.
'Twas well alluded by a son of mine,
(I hope to quote him is not to purloin,)
Two magnets, heaven and earth, allure to bliss;
The larger loadstone that, the nearer this:
The weak attraction of the greater fails;
We nod a while, but neighbourhood prevails;
But when the greater proves the nearer too,
I wonder more your converts come so slow.
Methinks in those who firm with me remain,
It shows a nobler principle than gain. --
Your inference would be strong, the Hind replied,
If yours were in effect the suffering side;
Your clergy's sons their own in peace possess,
Nor are their prospects in reversion less.
My proselytes are struck with awful dread,
Your bloody comet-laws hang blazing o'er their head;
The respite they enjoy but only lent,
The best they have to hope, protracted punishment. [207]
Be judge yourself, if interest may prevail,
Which motives, yours or mine, will turn the scale.
While pride and pomp allure, and plenteous ease,}
That is, till man's predominant passions cease, }
Admire no longer at my slow increase. }
By education most have been misled;
So they believe, because they so were bred.
The priest continues what the nurse began,
And thus the child imposes on the man.
The rest I named before, nor need repeat;
But interest is the most prevailing cheat,
The sly seducer both of age and youth;
They study that, and think they study truth.
When interest fortifies an argument, }
Weak reason serves to gain the will's assent; }
For souls, already warped, receive an easy bent. }
Add long prescription of established laws,
And pique of honour to maintain a cause,
And shame of change, and fear of future ill,
And zeal, the blind conductor of the will;
And chief, among the still-mistaking crowd, }
The fame of teachers obstinate and proud, }
And, more than all, the private judge allowed;}
Disdain of fathers which the dance began, }
And last, uncertain whose the narrower span,}
The clown unread, and half-read gentleman. --}
To this the Panther, with a scornful smile;--
Yet still you travel with unwearied toil,
And range around the realm without controul,}
Among my sons for proselytes to prowl; }
And here and there you snap some silly soul. }
You hinted fears of future change in state;
Pray heaven you did not prophesy your fate!
Perhaps, you think your time of triumph near, }
But may mistake the season of the year; }
The Swallow's fortune gives you cause to fear. --[208]}
For charity, replied the matron, tell
What sad mischance those pretty birds befel. --
Nay, no mischance, the savage dame replied, }
But want of wit in their unerring guide, }
And eager haste, and gaudy hopes, and giddy pride. }
Yet, wishing timely warning may prevail,
Make you the moral, and I'll tell the tale.
The Swallow, privileged above the rest
Of all the birds, as man's familiar guest,
Pursues the sun, in summer brisk and bold,
But wisely shuns the persecuting cold;
Is well to chancels and to chimnies known,
Though 'tis not thought she feeds on smoke alone.
From hence she has been held of heavenly line,
Endued with particles of soul divine.
This merry chorister had long possessed
Her summer-seat, and feathered well her nest;
Till frowning skies began to change their cheer,
And time turned up the wrong side of the year;
The shading trees began the ground to strow
With yellow leaves, and bitter blasts to blow.
Sad auguries of winter thence she drew,
Which by instinct, or prophecy, she knew;
When prudence warned her to remove betimes,
And seek a better heaven, and warmer climes.
Her sons were summoned on a steeple's height,
And, called in common council, vote a flight.
The day was named, the next that should be fair; }
All to the general rendezvous repair, }
They try their fluttering wings, and trust themselves in air. }
But whether upward to the moon they go, }
Or dream the winter out in caves below, }
Or hawk at flies elsewhere, concerns us not to know. }
Southwards you may be sure they bent their flight,}
And harboured in a hollow rock at night; }
Next morn they rose, and set up every sail;
The wind was fair, but blew a mackrel gale;
The sickly young sat shivering on the shore,
Abhorred salt-water never seen before.
And prayed their tender mothers to delay
The passage, and expect a fairer day.
With these the Martin readily concurred,
A church bigot, and church-believing bird;
Of little body, but of lofty mind, }
Round bellied, for a dignity designed, }
And much a dunce, as Martins are by kind;}
Yet often quoted canon-laws, and code, }
And fathers which he never understood; }
But little learning needs in noble blood. }
For, sooth to say, the Swallow brought him in,
Her household chaplain, and her next of kin;
In superstition silly to excess,
And casting schemes by planetary guess;
In fine, short-winged, unfit himself to fly,
His fear foretold foul weather in the sky.
Besides, a Raven from a withered oak,[209]
Left of their lodging, was observed to croak.
That omen liked him not; so his advice }
Was present safety, bought at any price; }
A seeming pious care, that covered cowardice. }
To strengthen this, he told a boding dream,
Of rising waters, and a troubled stream,
Sure signs of anguish, dangers, and distress,
With something more, not lawful to express:
By which he slily seemed to intimate
Some secret revelation of their fate.
For he concluded, once upon a time,
He found a leaf inscribed with sacred rhyme,
Whose antique characters did well denote
The Sibyl's hand of the Cumæan grot;
The mad divineress had plainly writ,
A time should come, but many ages yet,
In which, sinister destinies ordain, }
A dame should drown with all her feathered train, }
And seas from thence be called the Chelidonian main. [210] }
At this, some shook for fear; the more devout
Arose, and blessed themselves from head to foot.
'Tis true, some stagers of the wiser sort
Made all these idle wonderments their sport;
They said, their only danger was delay, }
And he, who heard what every fool could say, }
Would never fix his thought, but trim his time away. }
The passage yet was good; the wind, 'tis true, }
Was somewhat high, but that was nothing new, }
No more than usual equinoxes blew. }
The sun, already from the Scales declined, }
Gave little hopes of better days behind, }
But change from bad to worse, of weather and of wind. }
Nor need they fear the dampness of the sky }
Should flag their wings, and hinder them to fly, }
'Twas only water thrown on sails too dry. }
But, least of all, philosophy presumes
Of truth in dreams, from melancholy fumes;
Perhaps the Martin, housed in holy ground,
Might think of ghosts, that walk their midnight round,
Till grosser atoms, tumbling in the stream
Of fancy, madly met, and clubbed into a dream:
As little weight his vain presages bear,
Of ill effect to such alone who fear;
Most prophecies are of a piece with these,
Each Nostradamus can foretel with ease:
Not naming persons, and confounding times,
One casual truth supports a thousand lying rhymes.
The advice was true; but fear had seized the most,
And all good counsel is on cowards lost.
The question crudely put to shun delay,
'Twas carried by the major part to stay.
His point thus gained, Sir Martin dated thence
His power, and from a priest became a prince.
He ordered all things with a busy care, }
And cells and refectories did prepare, }
And large provisions laid of winter fare;}
But, now and then, let fall a word or two, }
Of hope, that heaven some miracle might show, }
And for their sakes, the sun should backward go;}
Against the laws of nature upward climb,
And, mounted on the Ram, renew the prime;
For which two proofs in sacred story lay,
Of Ahaz' dial, and of Joshua's day.
In expectation of such times as these,
A chapel housed them, truly called of ease;
For Martin much devotion did not ask;
They prayed sometimes, and that was all their task.
It happened, as beyond the reach of wit
Blind prophecies may have a lucky hit,
That this accomplished, or at least in part,
Gave great repute to their new Merlin's art.
Some Swifts,[211] the giants of the Swallow kind,}
Large limbed, stout-hearted, but of stupid mind, }
(For Swisses, or for Gibeonites designed, }
These lubbers, peeping through a broken pane,
To suck fresh air, surveyed the neighbouring plain,
And saw, but scarcely could believe their eyes,
New blossoms flourish, and new flowers arise;
As God had been abroad, and, walking there,
Had left his footsteps, and reformed the year.
The sunny hills from far were seen to glow }
With glittering beams, and in the meads below }
The burnished brooks appeared with liquid gold to flow. }
At last they heard the foolish Cuckow sing,
Whose note proclaimed the holiday of spring.
No longer doubting, all prepare to fly,
And repossess their patrimonial sky.
The priest before them did his wings display;}
And that good omens might attend their way, }
As luck would have it, 'twas St Martin's day. }
Who but the Swallow now triumphs alone?
The canopy of heaven is all her own;
Her youthful offspring to their haunts repair,
And glide along in glades, and skim in air,
And dip for insects in the purling springs,
And stoop on rivers to refresh their wings.
Their mothers think a fair provision made,
That every son can live upon his trade,
And, now the careful charge is off their hands,
Look out for husbands, and new nuptial bands.
The youthful widow longs to be supplied; }
But first the lover is by lawyers tied, }
To settle jointure-chimnies on the bride. }
So thick they couple in so short a space,
That Martin's marriage-offerings rise apace.
Their ancient houses, running to decay,
Are furbished up, and cemented with clay:
They teem already; store of eggs are laid,
And brooding mothers call Lucina's aid.
Fame spreads the news, and foreign fowls appear,}
In flocks, to greet the new returning year, }
To bless the founder, and partake the cheer. }
And now 'twas time, so fast their numbers rise,
To plant abroad and people colonies.
The youth drawn forth, as Martin had desired,
(For so their cruel destiny required,)
Were sent far off on an ill-fated day;
The rest would needs conduct them on their way,
And Martin went, because he feared alone to stay.
So long they flew with inconsiderate haste,
That now their afternoon began to waste;
And, what was ominous, that very morn
The sun was entered into Capricorn;
Which, by their bad astronomer's account,
That week the Virgin balance should remount.
An infant moon eclipsed him in his way,
And hid the small remainders of his day.
The crowd, amazed, pursued no certain mark,
But birds met birds, and jostled in the dark. [212]
Few mind the public, in a panic fright,
And fear increased the horror of the night.
Night came, but unattended with repose;
Alone she came, no sleep their eyes to close;
Alone, and black she came; no friendly stars arose.
What should they do, beset with dangers round,
No neighbouring dorp,[213] no lodging to be found,
But bleaky plains, and bare, unhospitable ground?
The latter brood, who just began to fly,
Sick-feathered, and unpractised in the sky,
For succour to their helpless mother call:
She spread her wings; some few beneath them crawl;
She spread them wider yet, but could not cover all.
To augment their woes, the winds began to move,
Debate in air for empty fields above,
Till Boreas got the skies, and poured amain
His rattling hailstones, mixed with snow and rain.
The joyless morning late arose, and found }
A dreadful desolation reign around, }
Some buried in the snow, some frozen to the ground. }
The rest were struggling still with death, and lay
The Crows and Ravens rights an undefended prey:
Excepting Martin's race; for they and he
Had gained the shelter of a hollow tree;
But, soon discovered by a sturdy clown, }
He headed all the rabble of a town, }
And finished them with bats, or polled them down. }
Martin himself was caught alive, and tried }
For treasonous crimes, because the laws provide}
No Martin there in winter shall abide. }
High on an oak, which never leaf shall bear,
He breathed his last, exposed to open air;
And there his corpse unblessed is hanging still,
To show the change of winds with his prophetic bill. --[214]
The patience of the Hind did almost fail,
For well she marked the malice of the tale;
Which ribbald art their church to Luther owes; }
In malice it began, by malice grows; }
He sowed the serpent's teeth, an iron harvest rose. }
But most in Martin's character and fate,
She saw her slandered sons, the Panther's hate,
The people's rage, the persecuting state:[215]
Then said, I take the advice in friendly part;
You clear your conscience, or at least your heart.
Perhaps you failed in your foreseeing skill,
For Swallows are unlucky birds to kill:
As for my sons, the family is blessed,
Whose every child is equal to the rest;
No church reformed can boast a blameless line,
Such Martins build in yours, and more than mine;
Or else an old fanatic author lies,
Who summed their scandals up by centuries. [216]
But through your parable I plainly see
The bloody laws, the crowd's barbarity;
The sunshine, that offends the purblind sight,
Had some their wishes, it would soon be night. [217]
Mistake me not; the charge concerns not you;
Your sons are malecontents, but yet are true,
As far as non-resistance makes them so;
But that's a word of neutral sense, you know,
A passive term, which no relief will bring,
But trims betwixt a rebel and a king. --
Rest well assured, the Pardelis replied, }
My sons would all support the regal side, }
Though heaven forbid the cause by battle should be tried. --}
The matron answered with a loud Amen,
And thus pursued her arguments again:--
If, as you say, and as I hope no less, }
Your sons will practise what yourselves profess,}
What angry power prevents our present peace? }
The Lion, studious of our common good,
Desires (and kings' desires are ill withstood)
To join our nations in a lasting love; }
The bars betwixt are easy to remove, }
For sanguinary laws were never made above. [217a]}
If you condemn that prince of tyranny,
Whose mandate forced your Gallic friends to fly,[218]
Make not a worse example of your own, }
Or cease to rail at causeless rigour shown, }
And let the guiltless person throw the stone. }
His blunted sword your suffering brotherhood
Have seldom felt; he stops it short of blood:
But you have ground the persecuting knife,
And set it to a razor-edge on life.
Cursed be the wit, which cruelty refines, }
Or to his father's rod the scorpion joins! }
Your finger is more gross than the great monarch's loins. }
But you, perhaps, remove that bloody note,
And stick it on the first reformers' coat.
Oh let their crime in long oblivion sleep;
'Twas theirs indeed to make, 'tis yours to keep!
Unjust, or just, is all the question now;
'Tis plain, that, not repealing, you allow.
To name the Test would put you in a rage;
You charge not that on any former age,
But smile to think how innocent you stand,
Armed by a weapon put into your hand.
Yet still remember, that you wield a sword,
Forged by your foes against your sovereign lord;
Designed to hew the imperial cedar down,
Defraud succession, and dis-heir the crown. [219]
To abhor the makers, and their laws approve,
Is to hate traitors, and the treason love.
What means it else, which now your children say,
We made it not, nor will we take away?
Suppose some great oppressor had, by slight}
Of law, disseised your brother of his right, }
Your common sire surrendering in a fright; }
Would you to that unrighteous title stand,
Left by the villain's will to heir the land?
More just was Judas, who his Saviour sold; }
The sacrilegious bribe he could not hold, }
Nor hang in peace, before he rendered back the gold. }
What more could you have done, than now you do,
Had Oates and Bedlow and their plot been true?
Some specious reasons for those wrongs were found;}
The dire magicians threw their mists around, }
And wise men walked as on enchanted ground. }
But now when time has made the imposture plain, }
(Late though he followed truth, and limping held her train,}
What new delusion charms your cheated eyes again? }
The painted harlot might a while bewitch,
But why the hag uncased, and all obscene with itch? [220]
The first reformers were a modest race;
Our peers possessed in peace their native place,
And when rebellious arms o'erturned the state,
They suffered only in the common fate;
But now the sovereign mounts the regal chair,
And mitred seats are full, yet David's bench is bare. [221]
Your answer is, they were not dispossest;
They need but rub their mettle on the Test
To prove their ore;--'twere well if gold alone
Were touched and tried on your discerning stone;
But that unfaithful test unfound will pass
The dross of Atheists, and sectarian brass;
As if the experiment were made to hold
For base production, and reject the gold.
Thus men ungodded may to places rise,
And sects may be preferred without disguise;
No danger to the church or state from these,
The Papist only has his writ of ease.
No gainful office gives him the pretence
To grind the subject, or defraud the prince.
Wrong conscience, or no conscience, may deserve
To thrive, but ours alone is privileged to starve.
Still thank yourselves, you cry; your noble race
We banish not, but they forsake the place;
Our doors are open:--true, but ere they come,
You toss your 'censing test, and fume the room;
As if 'twere Toby's rival to expel,
And fright the fiend who could not bear the smell. [222]
To this the Panther sharply had replied,}
But having gained a verdict on her side, }
She wisely gave the loser leave to chide; }
Well satisfied to have the _but and peace_,[223]}
And for the plaintiff's cause she cared the less, }
Because she sued _in forma pauperis_; }
Yet thought it decent something should be said,
For secret guilt by silence is betrayed;
So neither granted all, nor much denied,
But answered with a yawning kind of pride:
Methinks such terms of proffered peace you bring,
As once Æneas to the Italian king:[224]
By long possession all the land is mine; }
You strangers come with your intruding line,}
To share my sceptre, which you call to join. }
You plead like him an ancient pedigree,
And claim a peaceful seat by fate's decree.
In ready pomp your sacrificer stands,
To unite the Trojan and the Latin bands;
And, that the league more firmly may be tied,
Demand the fair Lavinia for your bride.
Thus plausibly you veil the intended wrong,
But still you bring your exiled gods along;
And will endeavour, in succeeding space,
Those household puppets on our hearths to place.
Perhaps some barbarous laws have been preferred;
I spake against the Test, but was not heard.
These to rescind, and peerage to restore, }
My gracious sovereign would my vote implore; }
I owe him much, but owe my conscience more. --}
Conscience is then your plea, replied the dame,
Which, well-informed, will ever be the same.
But yours is much of the camelion hue,
To change the dye with every distant view.
When first the Lion sat with awful sway,
Your conscience taught your duty to obey:[225]
He might have had your statutes and your Test;
No conscience but of subjects was professed.
He found your temper, and no farther tried,
But on that broken reed, your church, relied.
In vain the sects essayed their utmost art, }
With offered treasure to espouse their part; }
Their treasures were a bribe too mean to move his heart. }
But when, by long experience, you had proved,
How far he could forgive, how well he loved;
(A goodness that excelled his godlike race,
And only short of heaven's unbounded grace;
A flood of mercy that o'erflowed our isle,
Calm in the rise, and fruitful as the Nile,)
Forgetting whence your Egypt was supplied,
You thought your sovereign bound to send the tide;
Nor upward looked on that immortal spring,
But vainly deemed, he durst not be a king.
Then Conscience, unrestrained by fear, began
To stretch her limits, and extend the span;
Did his indulgence as her gift dispose,
And made a wise alliance with her foes. [226]
Can Conscience own the associating name, }
And raise no blushes to conceal her shame? }
For sure she has been thought a bashful dame. }
But if the cause by battle should be tried,}
You grant she must espouse the regal side; }
O Proteus conscience, never to be tied! }
What Phœbus from the Tripod shall disclose,
Which are, in last resort, your friends or foes?
Homer, who learned the language of the sky,
The seeming Gordian knot would soon untie;
Immortal powers the term of Conscience know,[227]
But Interest is her name with men below. --
Conscience or Interest be't, or both in one,
(The Panther answered in a surly tone;)
The first commands me to maintain the crown,
The last forbids to throw my barriers down.
Our penal laws no sons of yours admit,
Our Test excludes your tribe from benefit.
These are my banks your ocean to withstand,
Which, proudly rising, overlooks the land,
And, once let in, with unresisted sway,
Would sweep the pastors and their flocks away.
Think not my judgment leads me to comply
With laws unjust, but hard necessity:
Imperious need, which cannot be withstood,
Makes ill authentic, for a greater good.
Possess your soul with patience, and attend;
A more auspicious planet may ascend;[228]
Good fortune may present some happier time,
With means to cancel my unwilling crime;
(Unwilling, witness all ye powers above! )
To mend my errors, and redeem your love:
That little space you safely may allow;
Your all-dispensing power protects you now. [229]
Hold, said the Hind, 'tis needless to explain;
You would postpone me to another reign;
Till when, you are content to be unjust:
Your part is to possess, and mine to trust;
A fair exchange proposed, of future chance
For present profit and inheritance.
Few words will serve to finish our dispute;
Who will not now repeal, would persecute.
To ripen green revenge your hopes attend,
Wishing that happier planet would ascend. [230]
For shame, let Conscience be your plea no more;}
To will hereafter, proves she might before; }
But she's a bawd to gain, and holds the door. }
Your care about your banks infers a fear[231]
Of threatening floods and inundations near;
If so, a just reprise would only be
Of what the land usurped upon the sea;
And all your jealousies but serve to show,
Your ground is, like your neighbour-nation, low.
To intrench in what you grant unrighteous laws,
Is to distrust the justice of your cause;
And argues, that the true religion lies
In those weak adversaries you despise.
Tyrannic force is that which least you fear;
The sound is frightful in a Christian's ear:
Avert it, heaven! nor let that plague be sent
To us from the dispeopled continent.
But piety commands me to refrain;
Those prayers are needless in this monarch's reign.
Behold how he protects your friends oppressed, }
Receives the banished, succours the distressed! [232]}
Behold, for you may read an honest open breast. }
He stands in day-light, and disdains to hide}
An act, to which by honour he is tied, }
A generous, laudable, and kingly pride. }
Your Test he would repeal, his peers restore;
This when he says he means, he means no more.
Well, said the Panther, I believe him just, }
And yet---- }
--And yet, 'tis but because you must; }
You would be trusted, but you would not trust. --}
The Hind thus briefly; and disdained to enlarge
On power of kings, and their superior charge,
As heaven's trustees before the people's choice; }
Though sure the Panther did not much rejoice }
To hear those echoes given of her once loyal voice. }
The matron wooed her kindness to the last,
But could not win; her hour of grace was past.
Whom, thus persisting, when she could not bring
To leave the Wolf, and to believe her king,
She gave her up, and fairly wished her joy
Of her late treaty with her new ally:
Which well she hoped would more successful prove,
Than was the Pigeon's and the Buzzard's love.
The Panther asked, what concord there could be
Betwixt two kinds whose natures disagree?
The dame replied: 'Tis sung in every street,
The common chat of gossips when they meet;
But, since unheard by you, 'tis worth your while
To take a wholesome tale, though told in homely style.
A plain good man, whose name is understood,[233]
(So few deserve the name of plain and good,)
Of three fair lineal lordships stood possessed,
And lived, as reason was, upon the best.
Inured to hardships from his early youth,
Much had he done and suffered for his truth:
At land and sea, in many a doubtful fight, }
Was never known a more adventurous knight, }
Who oftener drew his sword, and always for the right. }
As fortune would, (his fortune came, though late,)
He took possession of his just estate;
Nor racked his tenants with increase of rent,
Nor lived too sparing, nor too largely spent,
But overlooked his hinds; their pay was just,
And ready, for he scorned to go on trust:
Slow to resolve, but in performance quick;
So true, that he was awkward at a trick.
For little souls on little shifts rely, }
And cowards arts of mean expedients try; }
The noble mind will dare do any thing but lie. }
False friends, his deadliest foes, could find no way,
But shows of honest bluntness, to betray;
That unsuspected plainness he believed;
He looked into himself, and was deceived.
Some lucky planet sure attends his birth,
Or heaven would make a miracle on earth;
For prosperous honesty is seldom seen
To bear so dead a weight, and yet to win.
It looks as fate with nature's law would strive,
To show plain-dealing once an age may thrive;
And, when so tough a frame she could not bend,
Exceeded her commission, to befriend.
This grateful man, as heaven increased his store,
Gave God again, and daily fed his poor.
His house with all convenience was purveyed;
The rest he found, but raised the fabric where he prayed;[234]
And in that sacred place his beauteous wife
Employed her happiest hours of holy life.
Nor did their alms extend to those alone,
Whom common faith more strictly made their own;
A sort of Doves[235] were housed too near their hall,
Who cross the proverb, and abound with gall.
Though some, 'tis true, are passively inclined,
The greater part degenerate from their kind;
Voracious birds, that hotly bill and breed,
And largely drink, because on salt they feed.
Small gain from them their bounteous owner draws;}
Yet, bound by promise, he supports their cause, }
As corporations privileged by laws. }
That house, which harbour to their kind affords,
Was built long since, God knows, for better birds;
But fluttering there, they nestle near the throne,}
And lodge in habitations not their own, }
By their high crops and corny gizzards known. }
Like Harpies, they could scent a plenteous board,
Then to be sure they never failed their lord:
The rest was form, and bare attendance paid;
They drunk, and eat, and grudgingly obeyed.
The more they fed, they ravened still the more;
They drained from Dan, and left Beersheba poor.
All this they had by law, and none repined;
The preference was but due to Levi's kind:
But when some lay-preferment fell by chance,
The Gourmands made it their inheritance.
When once possessed, they never quit their claim,
For then 'tis sanctified to heaven's high name;
And hallowed thus, they cannot give consent,
The gift should be profaned by worldly management.
Their flesh was never to the table served,
Though 'tis not thence inferred the birds were starved;
But that their master did not like the food,
As rank, and breeding melancholy blood.
Nor did it with his gracious nature suit,
E'en though they were not doves, to persecute:
Yet he refused, (nor could they take offence,)
Their glutton kind should teach him abstinence.
Nor consecrated grain their wheat he thought,
Which, new from treading, in their bills they brought;
But left his hinds each in his private power,
That those who like the bran might leave the flower.
He for himself, and not for others, chose,
Nor would he be imposed on, nor impose;
But in their faces his devotion paid, }
And sacrifice with solemn rites was made,}
And sacred incense on his altars laid. }
Besides these jolly birds, whose corpse impure
Repaid their commons with their salt manure,
Another farm he had behind his house,
Not overstocked, but barely for his use;
Wherein his poor domestic poultry fed,
And from his pious hands received their bread. [236]
Our pampered Pigeons, with malignant eyes,
Beheld these inmates, and their nurseries;
Though hard their fare, at evening, and at morn,
(A cruise of water and an ear of corn,)
Yet still they grudged that _modicum_, and thought
A sheaf in every single grain was brought.
Fain would they filch that little food away,
While unrestrained those happy gluttons prey;
And much they grieved to see so nigh their hall,
The bird that warned St Peter of his fall;[237]
That he should raise his mitred crest on high,
And clap his wings, and call his family
To sacred rites; and vex the Ethereal powers
With midnight mattins at uncivil hours;
Nay more, his quiet neighbours should molest,
Just in the sweetness of their morning rest.
Beast of a bird, supinely when he might
Lie snug and sleep, to rise before the light!
What if his dull forefathers used that cry,
Could he not let a bad example die?
The world was fallen into an easier way;
This age knew better than to fast and pray.
Good sense in sacred worship would appear,
So to begin, as they might end the year.
Such feats in former times had wrought the falls
Of crowing chanticleers in cloistered walls.
Expelled for this, and for their lands, they fled; }
And sister Partlet, with her hooded head,[238] }
Was hooted hence, because she would not pray a-bed. }
The way to win the restiff world to God,
Was to lay by the disciplining rod,
Unnatural fasts, and foreign forms of prayer;
Religion frights us with a mein severe.
'Tis prudence to reform her into ease,
And put her in undress, to make her please;
A lively faith will bear aloft the mind,
And leave the luggage of good works behind.
Such doctrines in the Pigeon-house were taught;
You need not ask how wondrously they wrought;
But sure the common cry was all for these,
Whose life and precepts both encouraged ease.
Yet fearing those alluring baits might fail,
And holy deeds o'er all their arts prevail,
(For vice, though frontless, and of hardened face,
Is daunted at the sight of awful grace,)
An hideous figure of their foes they drew, }
Nor lines, nor looks, nor shades, nor colours true; }
And this grotesque design exposed to public view. [239]}
One would have thought it some Egyptian piece,}
With garden-gods, and barking deities, }
More thick than Ptolemy has stuck the skies. }
All so perverse a draught, so far unlike,
It was no libel where it meant to strike.
Yet still the daubing pleased, and great and small,
To view the monster, crowded Pigeon-hall.
There Chanticleer was drawn upon his knees,
Adorning shrines, and stocks of sainted trees;[240]
And by him, a mishapen, ugly race,
The curse of God was seen on every face:
No Holland emblem could that malice mend,[241]
But still the worse the look, the fitter for a fiend.
The master of the farm, displeased to find
So much of rancour in so mild a kind,
Enquired into the cause, and came to know,
The passive church had struck the foremost blow;
With groundless fears, and jealousies possest, }
As if this troublesome intruding guest }
Would drive the birds of Venus[242] from their nest. }
A deed his inborn equity abhorred;
But interest will not trust, though God should plight his word.
A law, the source of many future harms,
Had banished all the poultry from the farms;
With loss of life, if any should be found
To crow or peck on this forbidden ground.
That bloody statute chiefly was designed
For Chanticleer the white, of clergy kind;[243]
But after-malice did not long forget
The lay that wore the robe and coronet. [244]
For them, for their inferiors and allies,
Their foes a deadly Shibboleth devise;
By which unrighteously it was decreed, }
That none to trust, or profit, should succeed, }
Who would not swallow first a poisonous wicked weed;}
Or that, to which old Socrates was cursed,[245]
Or henbane juice to swell them till they burst.
The patron, as in reason, thought it hard }
To see this inquisition in his yard, }
By which the sovereign was of subjects' use debarred. }
All gentle means he tried, which might withdraw
The effects of so unnatural a law;
But still the dove-house obstinately stood
Deaf to their own, and to their neighbours' good;
And which was worse, if any worse could be,
Repented of their boasted loyalty;
Now made the champions of a cruel cause,
And drunk with fumes of popular applause:
For those whom God to ruin has designed,
He fits for fate, and first destroys their mind. [246]
New doubts indeed they daily strove to raise,
Suggested dangers, interposed delays,
And emissary Pigeons had in store,
Such as the Meccan prophet used of yore,[247]
To whisper counsels in their patron's ear,
And veiled their false advice with zealous fear.
The master smiled to see them work in vain,
To wear him out, and make an idle reign:
He saw, but suffered their protractive arts,
And strove by mildness to reduce their hearts;
But they abused that grace to make allies, }
And fondly closed with former enemies; }
For fools are doubly fools, endeavouring to be wise. }
After a grave consult what course were best,
One, more mature in folly than the rest,
Stood up, and told them, with his head aside,
That desperate cures must be to desperate ills applied:
And therefore, since their main impending fear
Was from the increasing race of Chanticleer,
Some potent bird of prey they ought to find,
A foe professed to him, and all his kind:
Some hagard Hawk, who had her eyry nigh,
Well pounced to fasten, and well winged to fly;
One they might trust, their common wrongs to wreak.
The Musquet and the Coystrel were too weak,
Too fierce the Falcon; but, above the rest,
The noble Buzzard[248] ever pleased me best:
Of small renown, 'tis true; for, not to lie,
We call him but a Hawk by courtesy.
I know he hates the Pigeon-house and Farm,
And more, in time of war, has done us harm:
But all his hate on trivial points depends;
Give up our forms, and we shall soon be friends.
For Pigeons' flesh he seems not much to care;
Cram'd Chickens are a more delicious fare.
On this high potentate, without delay,
I wish you would confer the sovereign sway;
Petition him to accept the government,
And let a splendid embassy be sent.
This pithy speech prevailed, and all agreed,
Old enmities forgot, the Buzzard should succeed.
Their welcome suit was granted, soon as heard, }
His lodgings furnished, and a train prepared, }
With B's upon their breast, appointed for his guard. }
He came, and, crowned with great solemnity,
God save king Buzzard! was the general cry.
A portly prince, and goodly to the sight,
He seemed a son of Anach for his height:
Like those whom stature did to crowns prefer,
Black-browed, and bluff, like Homer's Jupiter;
Broad-backed, and brawny-built for love's delight,
A prophet formed to make a female proselyte;[249]
A theologue more by need than genial bent,
By breeding sharp, by nature confident.
Interest in all his actions was discerned;
More learned than honest, more a wit than learned;
Or forced by fear, or by his profit led,
Or both conjoined, his native clime he fled;
But brought the virtues of his heaven along,
A fair behaviour, and a fluent tongue.
And yet with all his arts he could not thrive,
The most unlucky parasite alive;
Loud praises to prepare his paths he sent,
And then himself pursued his compliment;
But by reverse of fortune chased away,
His gifts no longer than their author stay;
He shakes the dust against the ungrateful race,
And leaves the stench of ordures in the place.
Oft has he flattered and blasphemed the same;
For in his rage he spares no sovereign's name:
The hero and the tyrant change their style,
By the same measure that they frown or smile. [250]
When well received by hospitable foes,
The kindness he returns, is to expose;
For courtesies, though undeserved and great, }
No gratitude in felon-minds beget; }
As tribute to his wit, the churl receives the treat. }
His praise of foes is venomously nice; }
So touched, it turns a virtue to a vice;[251] }
"A Greek, and bountiful, forewarns us twice. "[252]}
Seven sacraments he wisely does disown,
Because he knows confession stands for one;
Where sins to sacred silence are conveyed,
And not for fear, or love, to be betrayed:
But he, uncalled, his patron to controul,
Divulged the secret whispers of his soul;
Stood forth the accusing Satan of his crimes,
And offered to the Moloch of the times. [253]
Prompt to assail, and careless of defence,
Invulnerable in his impudence,
He dares the world; and, eager of a name,
He thrusts about, and jostles into fame.
Frontless, and satire-proof, he scowers the streets,
And runs an Indian-muck at all he meets. [254]
So fond of loud report, that, not to miss }
Of being known, (his last and utmost bliss,)}
He rather would be known for what he is. }
Such was, and is, the Captain of the Test,[255]}
Though half his virtues are not here expressed; }
The modesty of fame conceals the rest. }
The spleenful Pigeons never could create
A prince more proper to revenge their hate;
Indeed, more proper to revenge, than save;
A king, whom in his wrath the Almighty gave:
For all the grace the landlord had allowed, }
But made the Buzzard and the Pigeons proud; }
Gave time to fix their friends, and to seduce the crowd. }
They long their fellow-subjects to inthral, }
Their patron's promise into question call,[256] }
And vainly think he meant to make them lords of all. }
False fears their leaders failed not to suggest,
As if the Doves were to be dispossessed;
Nor sighs, nor groans, nor goggling eyes did want,
For now the Pigeons too had learned to cant.
The house of prayer is stocked with large increase;
Nor doors, nor windows, can contain the press,
For birds of every feather fill the abode;
E'en atheists out of envy own a God,
And, reeking from the stews, adulterers come,
Like Goths and Vandals to demolish Rome.
That conscience, which to all their crimes was mute,
Now calls aloud, and cries to persecute:
No rigour of the laws to be released,
And much the less, because it was their Lord's request;
They thought it great their sovereign to controul,
And named their pride, nobility of soul.
'Tis true, the Pigeons, and their prince elect,
Were short of power, their purpose to effect;
But with their quills did all the hurt they could,
And cuff'd the tender Chickens from their food:
And much the Buzzard in their cause did stir, }
Though naming not the patron, to infer, }
With all respect, he was a gross idolater. [257]}
But when the imperial owner did espy,
That thus they turned his grace to villainy,
Not suffering wrath to discompose his mind, }
He strove a temper for the extremes to find,}
So to be just, as he might still be kind; }
Then, all maturely weighed, pronounced a doom
Of sacred strength for every age to come. [258]
By this the Doves their wealth and state possess,
No rights infringed, but license to oppress:
Such power have they as factious lawyers long
To crowns ascribed, that kings can do no wrong.
But since his own domestic birds have tried
The dire effects of their destructive pride,
He deems that proof a measure to the rest, }
Concluding well within his kingly breast, }
His fowls of nature too unjustly were opprest. [259]}
He therefore makes all birds of every sect }
Free of his farm, with promise to respect }
Their several kinds alike, and equally protect. }
His gracious edict the same franchise yields }
To all the wild increase of woods and fields, }
And who in rocks aloof, and who in steeples builds:}
To Crows the like impartial grace affords,
And Choughs and Daws, and such republic birds;
Secured with ample privilege to feed,
Each has his district, and his bounds decreed;
Combined in common interest with his own,
But not to pass the Pigeons' Rubicon.
Here ends the reign of this pretended Dove;}
All prophecies accomplished from above, }
For Shiloh comes the sceptre to remove. }
Reduced from her imperial high abode,
Like Dionysius to a private rod,[260]
The passive church, that with pretended grace}
Did her distinctive mark in duty place, }
Now touched, reviles her Maker to his face. }
What after happened is not hard to guess; }
The small beginnings had a large increase, }
And arts and wealth succeed the secret spoils of peace. }
'Tis said, the Doves repented, though too late,
Become the smiths of their own foolish fate:[261]
Nor did their owner hasten their ill hour,
But, sunk in credit, they decreased in power;
Like snows in warmth that mildly pass away,
Dissolving in the silence of decay. [262]
The Buzzard, not content with equal place,
Invites the feathered Nimrods of his race,
To hide the thinness of their flock from sight,
And all together make a seeming goodly flight:
But each have separate interests of their own;
Two Czars are one too many for a throne.
Nor can the usurper long abstain from food;
Already he has tasted Pigeon's blood,
And may be tempted to his former fare,[263]
When this indulgent lord shall late to heaven repair.
Bare benting times, and moulting months may come,
When, lagging late, they cannot reach their home;
Or rent in schism, (for so their fate decrees,)
Like the tumultuous college of the bees,
They fight their quarrel, by themselves opprest,
The tyrant smiles below, and waits the falling feast. --

Thus did the gentle Hind her fable end,
Nor would the Panther blame it, nor commend;
But, with affected yawnings at the close,
Seemed to require her natural repose;
For now the streaky light began to peep,
And setting stars admonished both to sleep.
The Dame withdrew, and, wishing to her guest
The peace of heaven, betook herself to rest:
Ten thousand angels on her slumbers wait,
With glorious visions of her future state.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 184: Note I. ]

[Footnote 185: The Declaration of Indulgence. ]

[Footnote 186: The Convocation. ]

[Footnote 187: The adherence of the church of England to the interests
of James, while he was an exile at Brussels, and the Bill of Exclusion
against him was in dependence, is here, as in other places, made the
subject of panegyric. Had the church joined with the sectaries, the
destruction of the Catholics, at the time of the plot, would have been
inevitable. ]

[Footnote 188: The church of England complained, with great reason, of
the coldness which they experienced from James, in whose behalf they
had exerted themselves so successfully. ]

[Footnote 189: An old sea-term, signifying to run before the wind. ]

[Footnote 190: _Une querelle Allemande_ is the well-known French
phrase for a quarrel picked without cause. The Hind insinuates, that
the Panther, conscious of superior force, meant to take such cause of
quarrel at the English Catholics, as Louis had raked up against the
Huguenots, which, therefore, might be styled rather a French than a
German quarrel. ]

[Footnote 191: Note II. ]

[Footnote 192: Note III. ]

[Footnote 193: The different parts of the body were assigned to
different planets. The old almanacks have a naked figure in front,
surrounded by the usual planetary emblems, which dart their rays on the
parts which they govern. What Scorpio claims, if not apparent from the
context, may be there found. ]

[Footnote 194: Note IV. ]

[Footnote 195: Alluding to the charges brought against Dryden himself
by Stillingfleet. See Note V. ]

[Footnote 196: Note VI. ]

[Footnote 197: Note VII. ]

[Footnote 198: This is our author's own averment in his "Defence of the
Papers of the Duchess of York. " See Note VIII. ]

[Footnote 199: The latitudinarian, or moderate clergy above-mentioned,
and particularly Stillingfleet. ]

[Footnote 200: Note IX. ]

[Footnote 201: Note X. ]

[Footnote 202: Stillingfleet's Vindication, which contains the
imputations complained of by Dryden, bears this licence: "_Imprimatur_,
Henricus Maurice Rmo. P. D. Wilhelmo Archiep. Cant. a sacris. January
10, 1686. "]

[Footnote 203: In these, and in the following beautiful lines, the
poet, who had complained of Stillingfleet's having charged him with
atheism, expresses his resolution to submit to this reproach with
Christian meekness, and without retaliation. ]

[Footnote 204: Stillingfleet. See Note XI. ]

[Footnote 205: Note XII. ]

[Footnote 206: See Introduction, p. 114; also Note VIII. ]

[Footnote 207: The penal laws, though suspended by the king's
Declaration of Indulgence, were not thereby abrogated. ]

[Footnote 208: Note XII. ]

[Footnote 209: ----_Sinistra cava prædixit ab ilice Cornix. _]

[Footnote 210: Alluding to the table of Icarus:

_Icarus Icariis nomina fecit aquis. _

Chelidonian, from χελιδὼν a _swallow_. ]

[Footnote 211: Otherwise called _martlets_. DRYDEN. ]

[Footnote 212: A parody on Lee's famous rant in "Œdipus. "

"May there not be a glimpse, one starry spark,
But gods meet gods, and jostle in the dark. "
]

[Footnote 213: An old Saxon word for a village. ]

[Footnote 214: It is a vulgar idea, that a dead swallow, suspended in
the air, intimates a change of wind, by turning its bill to the point
from which it is to blow. ]

[Footnote 215: Note XIV. ]

[Footnote 216: Century White, See Note XV. ]

[Footnote 217: The Hind intimates, that, as the sunshine of Catholic
prosperity, in the fable, depended upon the king's life, there existed
those among her enemies, who would fain have it shortened. But from
this insinuation she exempts the church of England, and only expresses
her fears, that her passive principles would incline her to neutrality. ]

[Footnote 217a: Note C: Note XVI. ]

[Footnote 218: Louis XIV. whose revocation of the Edict of Nantes
has been so frequently alluded to. As that monarch did not proceed
to the extremity of capital punishment against the Huguenots, Dryden
contends his edicts were more merciful than the penal laws, by which
mass-priests are denounced as guilty of high treason. ]

[Footnote 219: Note XVII. ]

[Footnote 220: The poet alludes to the enchantress Duessa, who, when
disrobed by Prince Arthur, was changed from a beautiful woman into

A loathly wrinkled hag, ill-favoured, old,
Whose secret filth good manners biddeth not be told.

SPENSER'S _Fairy Queen_, Book I, canto 8.
]

[Footnote 221: Note XVIII. ]

[Footnote 222: The fiend in the Book of Tobit, who haunted Raguel's
daughter, is frighted away, by fumigation, by Tobias her bridegroom.
Thus, Milton:

----Better pleased
Than Asmodeus with the fishy fume,
That drove him, though enamoured, from the spouse
Of Tobit's son, and with a vengeance sent
From Media post to Egypt, there fast bound.

_Par. Lost_, Book IV.
]

[Footnote 223: A proverbial expression, taken from our author's
alteration of the "Tempest. " See Vol. III. p. 176. ]

[Footnote 224: Æneid, lib. vii. 1. 213. ]

[Footnote 225: Note XIX. ]

[Footnote 226: Two pamphlets were published, urging the necessity of
an alliance between the church of England and the Dissenters; and
warmly exhorting the latter not to be cajoled to serve the purposes
of their joint enemies of Rome, by the pretended toleration which was
held out as a snare to them. One of these, called "Reflections on the
Declaration of Indulgence," is ascribed to Burnet; the other, called
"Advice to Dissenters," is supposed to come from the masterly pen of
Halifax. ]

[Footnote 227: Ον Βριαρεων καλέουσι θεοι, ανδρες δε τεπαντες Αιγααιων. ]

[Footnote 228: Note XX. ]

[Footnote 229: The power claimed, and liberally exercised, by the king,
of dispensing with the penal statutes. ]

[Footnote 230: That is, wishing the accession of the Prince of Orange,
then the presumptive heir of the crown. ]

[Footnote 231: Note XXI. ]

[Footnote 232: The refugee Huguenots. See Note XXII. ]

[Footnote 233: James II. See Note XXIII. ]

[Footnote 234: The Catholic chapel in Whitehall. ]

[Footnote 235: The clergy of the church of England, and those of London
in particular. See Note XXIV. ]

[Footnote 236: The Catholic clergy, maintained by King James. ]

[Footnote 237: The cock is made an emblem of the regular clergy of
Rome, on account of their nocturnal devotions and mattins. ]

[Footnote 238: The Nuns. ]

[Footnote 239: Note XXV. ]

[Footnote 240: The worship of images, charged upon the Romish church by
Protestants as idolatrous. ]

[Footnote 241: Note XXVI. ]

[Footnote 242: The Doves. ]

[Footnote 243: The laws imposing the penalty of high treason on priests
saying mass in England. ]

[Footnote 244: The Roman Catholic nobility, excluded from the House of
Peers by the imposition of the test. ]

[Footnote 245: Hemlock. ]

[Footnote 246: _Quos Jupiter vult perdere, prius dementat. _]

[Footnote 247: The foolish fable of Mahomet accustoming a pigeon to
pick peas from his ear, to found his pretensions to inspiration, is
well known. ]

[Footnote 248: Gilbert Burnet, D. D. afterwards Bishop of Salisbury.
See Note XXVII. ]

[Footnote 249: Note XXVIII. ]

[Footnote 250: Note XXIX. ]

[Footnote 251: Note XXX. ]

[Footnote 252: ----_timeo Danaos et dona ferentes. _ Æneid, II. lib. ]

[Footnote 253: Note XXXI. ]

[Footnote 254: Note XXXII. ]

[Footnote 255: Note XXXIII. ]

[Footnote 256: The promise to maintain the church of England, made in
James's first proclamation after his accession; and which the church
party alleged he had now broken. Note XXXIV. ]

[Footnote 257: See note XXXIII. ]

[Footnote 258: Declaration of indulgence.