No More Learning

_ I suppose, my lord, that your lordship was posted in a very
strong place?

_General. _ O begarra, very strong, vid de great river between me and de
rebella, calla de Brooka de Gutter.

_Lady. _ But they say, my lord, there was no water in that brook of the
gutter?

_General. _ Begar, madama, but dat no be my faulta; begar me no hinder
de water from coma; if no will rain, begar me no can make de rain.

_Lady. _ But did you not go to some other place?

_General. _ O pardon me, madama, you no understand de ting.

_Lord. _ And so your lordship, it seems, encamped with your horse and
foot?

_General. _ Ay vid de foota, no vid de horsa; begar me go vid de horsa
on de gentlemen-officera, to one very good villash, where begar, be
very good quartera, very good meta, very good drinka, and very good
bedda.

_Lady. _ But pray, my lord, why did you not stay with the foot?

_General. _ Begarra, madama, because dire be great differentia between
de gentlemen-officera and de rogua de sogiera; begarra de rogua de
sogiera lye upon the grounda; but begar de gentlemen-officera go to
bedda. ]

[Footnote 454: There is amongst the records of the order of the Garter,
written in Latin, and deposited in St George's chapel, an account of
the manner in which the Duke of Monmouth's banner, which had been
suspended over his stall, was taken down by the command of James the
II. --Garter king at arms, the heralds, and all the officers of the
Garter, attended; and, amidst a great concourse of people, took down
the banner, treated it with every mark of indignity, and kicked it out
of the western door of the church into a ditch, which at that time was
near the church. ]

[Footnote 455: William Symthies, curate at Cripplegate, intimates, that
he kept his coach and six horses. --_Reply to the Observator_, p. 2. ]

[Footnote 456: _Examen_, p. 596. ]

[Footnote 457: Carte, Vol. II. p. 522. ]

[Footnote 458: _Examen_, p. 616. North mentions a song having for
burden,

--the worshipful Sir John Moor,
Age after age that name adore.

Besides a congratulatory poem to Sir John Moor, Knight, Lord Mayor
elect of London, 30th September, 1682, there is another in the
Luttrell Collection, comparing the feats of Sir John with those of his
predecessors in the government of the city, to the ancient tune of "St
George for England," entitled, "Vive Le Roy, or London's Joy," a new
song on the installation of the present Lord Mayor of London. (To the
tune of 'St George for England. ')

Sir Patience[459] calls for justice, and then the wretch will sham us;
Sh. Bethel,[460] he packs a jury, well versed in Ignoramus;
Sir Tom[461] would hang the Tory, and let the Whig go free;
Sir Bob[462] would have a commonwealth, and cry down monarchy;
While still the brave Sir George[463] did all their deeds record;
But Sir John, Sir John, your loyalty restored.
Sir John he is for justice, which rebels would destroy;
Vive, vive, vive le roy.
]

[Footnote 459: Sir Patience Ward. ]

[Footnote 460: Sheriff Bethel. ]

[Footnote 461: Sir Thos. Player. ]

[Footnote 462: Sir Robert Clayton. ]

[Footnote 463: Sir George Jefferies. ]

[Footnote 464: Ralph, Vol. I. p. 634. ]

[Footnote 465: He fled to the Hague, as appears from a ballad called
"The Hue and Song after Patience, (23 May, 1683. )"

Have but a little patience, and you shall hear,
How Patience had the gift to lie and swear;
How Patience could with patience stand a lie;
But Patience wants to stand the pillory.
Out of all patience, to the Hague he steers;
To stay he had not patience for his ears.
]




THE MEDAL.

A SATIRE AGAINST SEDITION.

_Per Graium populos, mediqæue per Elidis urbem
Ibat ovans; Divumque sibi poscebat honores. _




THE MEDAL.


The Medal was published in the beginning of March 1682, about four
months after the appearance of the first part of "Absalom and
Achitophel," and eight months before the publication of the second part
of that poem. The circumstances, which led to it, require us to notice
Shaftesbury's imprisonment and acquittal.

On the 2d July, 1681, the Earl of Shaftesbury was apprehended, by
virtue of a warrant from council, and after his papers had been
seized, and he himself had undergone an examination, was committed
to the Tower. Upon the 24th November, 1681, a bill for high-treason
was presented against him to the grand jury of Middlesex. When the
witnesses were adduced, the jurors demanded, that they might be
examined in private; and Pilkington, the Whig sheriff, required, that
they should be examined separately. Both requests were refused by the
court. One Booth was then examined, who swore, that Lord Shaftesbury
had told him, he intended to carry down to the Oxford parliament a
party of fifty gentlemen, and their servants, armed and mounted, to be
commanded by a Captain Wilkinson; and that his Lordship stated this
force to be provided, for the purpose of repelling any attack which
the king's guards might make on the parliament, and, if necessary,
to take the king from his bad advisers by force, and bring him to
the city of London. The witness, said he, was invited by Wilkinson
to be one of this band, and provided himself with a good horse and
arms for the service; which was prevented by the sudden dissolution
of the Oxford parliament. Seven other witnesses, Smith, Turberville,
Haynes, and three persons called Macnamara, swore, that Shaftesbury
had used to them, and each of them individually, the most treasonable
expressions concerning the king's person; had declared he had no more
title to the crown than the Duke of Buckingham; that he deserved to
be deposed; and that he, Shaftesbury, would dethrone him, and convert
the kingdom into a commonwealth. Here was enough of swearing at least
to make a true bill. But the character of the witnesses was infamous;
Booth was a swindler, and could never give an account of the stable in
which he kept his pretended charger, or produce any one who had seen
it. Smith, by his own confession, had changed his religion twice, was
one of the evidences of the Popish plot, and intimate with the villain
Oates. Turberville stood in the same predicament of an infamous fellow,
and an evidence for the plot; he is said to have apologised for his
apostacy, by saying plainly, that "the Protestant citizens had forsaken
him, and, God damn him, he would not starve. " The other witnesses were
Irishmen, and there was something remarkable in their history. They had
pretended to discover a Catholic plot in Ireland, which, if one had
existed any where, was doubtless the place where it might have been
found. Their evidence, however, contained pretty much such a raw-head
and bloody-bones story as that of Oates, and equally unworthy of
credit. Yet Shaftesbury constituted himself their protector, and had
them brought over to England, where he doubtless intended, that their
Irish plot should be as warmly agitated in the Oxford parliament, as
the English conspiracy in that of 1679. Macnamara's "Narrative of the
Conspiracy" is dedicated to his Lordship, because it was not only known
to the dedicator, "but to the whole Christian world, how conspicuous
his Lordship had been for his indefatigable zeal and vigilance over
the safety of his majesty's most sacred person, and the welfare of the
whole extent of his dominions. " The sudden dissolution of the Oxford
parliament, which had such important consequences in various respects,
prevented the prosecution of the Irish plot. Besides, it seems to have
escaped even Shaftesbury, that popular terror, the most powerful of
engines, loses its excitability by too frequent alarms. The theme of a
plot began to be listened to with indifference. That of Ireland fell
to the ground, without exciting clamour or terror, but the witnesses
remained. There is a story of some Irish recruits, who, being detected
in a brawl, justified themselves, by saying, they were paid by the king
for fighting, and it was quite the same to them where they fought,
or with whom. The witnesses were equally sedulous in their vocation,
and equally indifferent about the application of their labours; for,
finding the court had obtained an ascendency, they readily turned with
the tide, and bore evidence, as we have seen, against their original
protector and encourager. The Tories basely availed themselves of the
readiness with which this hungry pack of bloodhounds turned against
their huntsman, and triumphantly claimed for them the same credit which
the Whigs had demanded in former cases; although they must have been
conscious, that they were employing the worst arts, as well as the most
infamous implements, of their enemies. Besides the infamy of these
men's character, their story was very improbable; as it could hardly be
supposed, that Shaftesbury, the veteran leader of a party, should have
committed himself so deeply in unnecessary and unreserved communication
with these vulgar banditti, or expressed himself against the king in
such low and gross language as they imputed to him.

Such being the oral testimony, and such its defects, the crown
lawyers endeavoured to aid it, by founding upon certain papers found
in Shaftesbury's study. One of these contained the names of the
principal persons in the nation, divided into two lists, one titled,
_Worthy Men_, and the other, _Men Worthy_; which last contained the
principal Tories, and the legend was understood to mean, "men worthy
to be hanged. " This was too enigmatical to bear much argument. But
there was also found a draught of an association against Popery, in
which many dangerous topics were stated. It was thereby declared,
that the Papist Plot was still advancing, and that the Catholics had
been highly encouraged by James Duke of York; that mercenary forces
had been levied, and kept on foot, contrary to law, and to the danger
of the king's person: Therefore the persons associating were to bind
themselves to defend, first the Protestant religion, and then the
king's person and liberties of the subject, against all encroachment
and usurpation of arbitrary power, and to endeavour to disband all
such mercenary forces as were kept up in and about the city of London,
to the great amazement and terror of all the good people of the land;
also, never to consent that the Duke of York, or any professed Papist,
should succeed to the crown, but by all lawful means, and by force
of arms if necessary, to resist and oppose his so doing. By a still
more formidable clause, it was provided, that the subscribers were to
receive orders from the parliament if sitting; but if it should be
dissolved, from the majority of the association itself. Lastly, that
no one should separate from the rest of the association, on pain of
being by the others prosecuted and suppressed, as a perjured person
and public enemy. Much dangerous, and even treasonable, inference may
be drawn from this model. But it was only an unsigned scroll, and did
not appear to have been framed, or even revised and approved of, by
Shaftesbury.

With such evidence against him, Shaftesbury might have gone safely
before a jury of indifferent men, could such have been found. But the
Whig sheriffs, Shute and Pilkington, left nothing to hazard, and took
good care the assize should consist of men picked out of the very
centre of their own party. We recognize the names of Godfrey, brother
to Sir Edmondbury; of Papillon and Dubois, the Whig candidates for the
shrievalty against North and Rich; of Sir Samuel Barnardiston, who
maintained a furious action against the high-sheriff of Suffolk, for
a double return; of Shepherd, the wine-merchant, at whose house the
Duke of Monmouth, Lord Russel, &c. afterwards held their meetings; of
Edwin, the presbyterian, and others less noted in history, but not less
remarkable at the time for the violence of their party-zeal. After a
short consideration, they returned the bill _Ignoramus_; upon which
there was a shout of continued applause in the court, which lasted
for an hour, and the city, in the evening, blazed with bonfires, to
celebrate the escape of their Protestant leader. Such was the history
of this noted trial, which took place at a time when the course of
law had lost its deep still channel, and all causes were carried by a
fierce impetuous torrent, which threatened to break down the banks, and
become a general inundation. Accustomed to a pure administration of
justice, we now look back with disgust and horror upon times, when, to
bring in a just verdict, it was necessary to assemble a packed jury.

The triumph of the Whigs was unbounded; and, among other symptoms of
exultation, it displayed itself in that which gave rise to this poem
of Dryden. This was a medal of Lord Shaftesbury, struck by William
Bower, an artist, who had executed some popular pieces allusive to
the Roman Catholic plot. [466] The obverse presented the bust of the
earl, with the legend, ANTONIO COMITI DE SHAFTESBURY; the reverse, a
view of London, the bridge, and the Tower; the sun is rising above the
Tower, and just in the act of dispersing a cloud; the legend around
the exergue is LÆTAMUR, and beneath is the date of his acquittal, 24th
NOVEMBER, 1681. The partizans of the acquitted patriot wore these
medals at their breasts; and care was taken that this emblem should be
made as general as possible. [467]

The success of "Absalom and Achitophel" made the Tories look to our
author as the only poet whose satire might check, or ridicule, the
popular triumph of Shaftesbury. If the following anecdote, which Spence
has given on the authority of a Catholic priest, a friend of Pope, be
absolutely correct, Charles himself engaged Dryden to write on this
theme. "One day as the king was walking in the Mall, and talking with
Dryden, he said, 'If I was a poet, and I think I am poor enough to be
one, I would write a poem on such a subject, in the following manner. '
He then gave him the plan of "The Medal. " Dryden took the hint, carried
the poem, as soon as it was written, to the king, and had a present of
a hundred broad pieces for it. "

The merits of "The Medal," as a satirical poem, are universally
acknowledged; nor does it greatly suffer from being placed, as the
subject naturally invites, in comparison with "Absalom and Achitophel. "
The latter, as a group of figures, presents greater scope and variety,
and may be therefore more generally interesting than the portrait of
an individual; but it does not more fully display the abilities of
the artist. Nothing can be more forcibly described, than the whole
of Shaftesbury's political career; and, to use the nervous language
of Johnson, "the picture of a man, whose propensions to mischief
are such, that his best actions are but inability of wickedness, is
very skilfully delineated, and strongly coloured. " The comparison of
his best and most politic councils, to the cures affected by those
called _white witches_, whom it was unlawful to consult, because,
even in accomplishing innocent purposes, they used infernal arts, is
poignantly severe. The succeeding lines, in which the poet ridicules
bitterly that appeal to the people, which the demagogues of that, as
of all periods, were desirous to represent as the criterion of truth,
contains the essence of all that an hundred philosophers can say upon
the topic. His stern and indignant picture of the citizens of London,
unjust as it is, if meant to express their general character, is, in
individual instances, too often verified. That looseness which habitual
chicane in trade introduces into mercantile morality; that bustling
activity, which, however meritorious when within its sphere, is so apt
to extend itself where its exertion is only mischievous and absurd; and
that natural turn to democracy, which arises from frequenting popular
meetings and from ambition of civic honours; that half-acquaintance
with the affairs of other countries, and half-intimacy with the laws
of our own, acquired in the course of mercantile transactions,--all
combine, but too often, to turn an useful sober citizen, into a
meddling, pragmatical, opinionative politician. The strong and gloomy
picture of the fanatics, which succeeds, describes a race of men now
in a great measure extinct, of whom the influence, though declining,
even in the poet's time, continued to be powerful, and which had,
in the preceding generation, prostrated before them both the mitre
and the throne. The comparison of the fanatical ideas of religion
entertained by these dissenting teachers, with the supposed principles
of the libertine and latitudinarian Shaftesbury, gave scope for some
nervous satire, and led the author naturally to consider the probable
result of the schemes of these incongruous allies. These he predicts,
according to the progress of things after the great civil war, to be
successively the dominion of presbytery, and depression of the gentry;
the insurrection of the independents, and other sects, against their
spiritual tyranny; quarrels between the civil and military leaders; the
commons destroying the peerage; a democratical republic; a military
tyranny; and, by the blessing of heaven, a restoration of the rightful
heir. All these scenes had already passed at no distant period; and
now, while the sword was yet in the sheath, though the hand was upon
its hilt, the masterly and energetic language in which they are
detailed may have tempted many to pause and think, whether the evils,
of which they complained, deserved the risque of so desperate a remedy.

Such is the plan of this admirable poem. The language is as striking
as the ideas and subject. The illustrations and images are short and
apposite, such as give force to the argument, and flow easily into
the diction, without appearing to have been laboured, or brought
from a distance. I fear, however, some of the scriptural allusions
are censurable, as too free, if not profane. The verse has all the
commanding emphasis, with which Dryden, beyond any other poet, knew
how to body forth and adorn his poetical arguments. One Alexandrine is
prolonged two syllables beyond the usual length; a circumstance hardly
worth notice, were it not to show the sharp-sighted malice of Dryden's
enemies, who could discover this single inaccuracy, if, indeed, the
licence was not intentional, amid so much sounding versification. [468]

As "The Medal" attracted immediate and extensive attention, the Whig
champions stepped forth to the contest. "The Mushroom," by Edmund
Hickeringell, first appeared; and, in succession, "The Medal Reversed,"
by Samuel Pordage, which procured its author a couplet in the second
part of "Absalom and Achitophel;" "The Loyal Medal Vindicated," and
the "Medal of John Bayes;" all of which, and perhaps many more,
appeared in the summer and autumn of 1681. Two satires, of a more
general nature, entitled, "Dryden's Satire to his Muse," and, "The
Tory Poets," were also published against our author in the course of
that year; a sufficient proof of the irritation of that party, whose
chief he had now twice held up to public detestation. --The popularity
of "The Medal" did not cease with the crisis which gave it birth; it
went through many editions, and only became less known, when successive
changes had totally worn away all remembrance of the intrigues of the
eminent politician against whom it was directed. Johnson has said, "It
is now not much read, nor perhaps generally understood; yet, a slight
acquaintance with the history of the period removes all obscurity;
and, though we cannot sympathize with the fervour of politics which it
contains, the poetry has claims to popularity, widely independent of
the temporary nature of the subject. "

As the reader is now to take a long farewell of Lord Shaftesbury,
it may not be unnecessary to remind him, that, when freed from the
accusation of high treason, the earl continued to agitate plans of
opposition to the government, which became more and more violent, as
the ascendency of the court became more powerful, until open force
seemed to be the only means left of accomplishing what undoubtedly he
had at first hoped to carry through by political intrigue. At length
he found it necessary to fly from his house in Aldersgate-Street,
and take refuge in the suburbs of the city, from whence he sent
messages to his associates, urging them to take arms. But he was now
doomed to experience what his ardent temper had before prevented him
from considering. When they came to the crisis, the different views
and dispositions of the allies began to discover themselves. Russell
limited his wishes to security for liberty; Monmouth stipulated his own
succession on Charles' death; Sidney demanded a free commonwealth; and
all dreaded Shaftesbury, who, they were sensible, was determined to
be at the head of the kind of government adopted, whatever that might
be. Nor were their tempers less discordant than their plans. While an
inferior order of conspirators were organizing plans for assassinating
the whole royal family, Monmouth was anxious for the life of his
father, Russell averse to shedding the blood of his countrymen, Grey,
Howard, and Trenchard, from meaner motives, unwilling to encounter the
dangers of war. After a desperate threat to commence the rising, and
make the honour and danger all his own, Shaftesbury at length fled to
Holland, where he landed in November 1682. The magistrates of Amsterdam
gave him welcome, and enrolled him among their citizens, to evade
any claim by the court of England on his person; yet they failed not
to remind him of his former declaration, of _Delenda est Carthago_,
accompanying the freedom which they presented to him with these words:
_Ab nostra Carthagine, nondum deleta, salutem accipe_. Here, while
pondering the consequences of former intrigues, and perhaps adjusting
new machinations, Shaftesbury was seized with the gout in his stomach,
and expired on the 21st January, 1682-3.

To sift the character of this extraordinary man, and divide his virtues
from his vices, his follies from his talents, would be a difficult,
perhaps an impossible task. Charles is said to have borne testimony,
that he had more law than all his judges, and more divinity than all
his bishops. But his shining qualities were sullied by that inordinate
ambition, which brought its own punishment, in an unworthy flight, an
untimely, at least a precipitated, death, and a dubious reputation.

Sleep, thou most active of mankind! oh make
Thy last low bed, and death's long requiem take,
Thou who, whilst living, kept'st the world awake! [469]


FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 466: One often occurs, struck generally in lead. It
represents, on the obverse, Sir Edmondbury Godfrey walking, though
strangled; on the reverse, St Dennis, with some such legend as this:

Godfrey walked up the hill after he was dead;
Dennis went o'er the sea wanting his head.

Others are recorded by Evelyn. ]

[Footnote 467: It is alluded to in an occasional epilogue, by Otway, to
"Venice Preserved," acted on the Duke's return, April 21, 1682:

Nail all your medals on the gallow's post,
In recompence the original was lost;
At these illustrious repentance pay,
In his kind hands your humble offerings lay.

Duke also, in an epistle to Otway, talking of his retirement from the
political world, declares,

I have forgot whatever there I knew,
Why men one stocking tie with ribbon blue;
Why others medals wear, a fine gilt thing,
That at their breasts hangs dangling by a string.
]

[Footnote 468: The line is this:

Thou leap'st o'er all eternal truths in thy pindaric way.

It seems to be alluded to by Hickeringell in the following lines on
Dryden's challenge to the Whig poets, in his preliminary epistle:

If Whigs be silent, then the Tory says,
They're silenced, cannot answer Mr Bayes,
The poet laureat; and if we write,
He swears we learn of him how to indite;
Nay, he's so charitable, we so poor,
He bids us take, and welcome, of his store;
And lest our verses happen to want feet,
He frankly proffers his; and 'tis most meet
We should, in charity, accept his proffer now,
For his, like that, has more than should by two.

The same circumstance is noticed by Tom Brown, who says, it is the
longest line in Christendom, except one, which went round some old
hangings, representing the history of Pharoah and Moses, and measured
forty-six good feet of metre, running thus:

Why, was he not a rascal?
Who refused to suffer the children of Israel to go into the wilderness,
with their wives and families, to eat the pascal.

I notice this buffoonery, because it is common to ascribe this strange
Alexandrine to the Rev. Zachary Boyd, whose scriptural poems are
preserved in the University of Glasgow. ]

[Footnote 469: Elegy on Shaftesbury, in _Raleigh Redivivus_. ]




EPISTLE

TO

THE WHIGS.


For to whom can I dedicate this poem with so much justice as to you?
'Tis the representation of your own hero; 'tis the picture drawn at
length, which you admire and prize so much in little. None of your
ornaments are wanting; neither the landscape of your Tower, nor the
rising sun, nor the _anno domini_ of your new sovereign's coronation.
This must needs be a grateful undertaking to your whole party;
especially to those who have not been so happy as to purchase the
original. I hear the graver has made a good market of it; all his kings
are bought up already, or the value of the remainder so enhanced, that
many a poor Polander,[470] who would be glad to worship the image,
is not able to go to the cost of him, but must be content to see him
here. I must confess I am no great artist; but sign-post painting will
serve the turn to remember a friend by, especially when better is
not to be had. Yet, for your comfort, the lineaments are true; and
though he sat not five times to me, as he did to B,[471] yet I have
consulted history; as the Italian painters do, when they would draw a
Nero or a Caligula: though they have not seen the man, they can help
their imagination by a statue of him, and find out the colouring from
Suetonius and Tacitus. Truth is, you might have spared one side of your
medal; the head would be seen to more advantage if it were placed on a
spike of the Tower, a little nearer to the sun, which would then break
out to better purpose. [472]

You tell us, in your preface to the "No-protestant Plot,"[473] that
you shall be forced hereafter to leave off your modesty; I suppose you
mean that little which is left you, for it was worn to rags when you
put out this medal. Never was there practised such a piece of notorious
impudence in the face of an established government. I believe, when he
is dead, you will wear him in thumb-rings, as the Turks did Scanderbeg,
as if there were virtue in his bones to preserve you against monarchy.
Yet all this while you pretend not only zeal for the public good, but
a due veneration for the person of the king. But all men, who can
see an inch before them, may easily detect those gross fallacies.
That it is necessary for men in your circumstances to pretend both,
is granted you; for without them there could be no ground to raise a
faction. But I would ask you one civil question, what right has any
man among you, or any association of men, to come nearer to you, who,
out of parliament, cannot be considered in a public capacity, to meet,
as you daily do, in factious clubs, to vilify the government in your
discourses, and to libel it in all your writings? Who made you judges
in Israel? Or how is it consistent with your zeal for the public
welfare, to promote sedition? Does your definition of _loyal_, which
is, "to serve the king according to the laws," allow you the licence
of traducing the executive power with which you own he is invested?
You complain that his majesty has lost the love and confidence of his
people; and by your very urging it, you endeavour what in you lies to
make him lose them. All good subjects abhor the thought of arbitrary
power, whether it be in one or many: if you were the patriots you
would seem, you would not at this rate incense the multitude to assume
it; for no sober man can fear it, either from the king's disposition,
or his practice; or even where you would odiously lay it, from his
ministers. Give us leave to enjoy the government and benefit of laws
under which we were born, and which we desire to transmit to our
posterity. You are not the trustees of the public liberty: and if you
have not right to petition in a crowd,[474] much less have you to
intermeddle in the management of affairs, or to arraign what you do
not like; which, in effect, is every thing that is done by the king
and council. Can you imagine, that any reasonable man will believe
you respect the person of his majesty, when it is apparent that your
seditious pamphlets are stuffed with particular reflections on him? If
you have the confidence to deny this, it is easy to be evinced from a
thousand passages, which I only forbear to quote, because I desire they
should die and be forgotten. I have perused many of your papers; and to
show you that I have, the third part of your "No-protestant Plot" is
much of it stolen from your dead author's pamphlet, called the "Growth
of Popery;"[475] as manifestly as Milton's "Defence of the English
People" is from Buchanan, "_De jure regni apud Scotos_:" or your first
Covenant, and new Association, from the Holy League of the French
Guisards. [476] Any one, who reads Davila, may trace your practices all
along. There were the same pretences for reformation and loyalty, the
same aspersions of the king, and the same grounds of a rebellion. I
know not whether you will take the historian's word, who says it was
reported, that Poltrot, a Huguenot, murdered Francis Duke of Guise, by
the instigations of Theodore Beza, or that it was a Huguenot minister,
otherwise called a Presbyterian, (for our church abhors so devilish
a tenet,) who first writ a treatise of the lawfulness of deposing and
murdering kings of a different persuasion in religion; but I am able to
prove, from the doctrine of Calvin, and principles of Buchanan, that
they set the people above the magistrate; which, if I mistake not,
is your own fundamental, and which carries your loyalty no farther
than your liking. When a vote of the House of Commons goes on your
side, you are as ready to observe it, as if it were passed into a law;
but, when you are pinched with any former, and yet unrepealed act of
parliament, you declare, that, in some cases, you will not be obliged
by it. The passage is in the same third part of the "No-protestant
Plot," and is too plain to be denied. The late copy of your intended
association, you neither wholly justify nor condemn;[477] but as the
Papists, when they are unopposed, fly out into all the pageantries of
worship, but, in times of war, when they are hard pressed by arguments,
lie close intrenched behind the council of Trent, so now, when your
affairs are in a low condition, you dare not pretend that to be a legal
combination, but whensoever you are afloat, I doubt not but it will be
maintained and justified to purpose, for, indeed, there is nothing to
defend it but the sword; it is the proper time to say any thing when
men have all things in their power.

In the mean time, you would fain be nibbling at a parallel betwixt
this association, and that in the time of Queen Elizabeth. [478] But
there is this small difference betwixt them, that the ends of the one
are directly opposite to the other: one, with the queen's approbation
and conjunction, as head of it; the other, without either the consent
or knowledge of the king, against whose authority it is manifestly
designed. Therefore you do well to have recourse to your last evasion,
that it was contrived by your enemies, and shuffled into the papers
that were seized, which yet you see the nation is not so easy to
believe as your own jury; but the matter is not difficult, to find
twelve men in Newgate who would acquit a malefactor.

I have only one favour to desire of you at parting; that, when you
think of answering this poem, you would employ the same pens against
it, who have combated with so much success against "Absalom and
Achitophel;" for then you may assure yourselves of a clear victory,
without the least reply. Rail at me abundantly; and, not to break a
custom, do it without wit: by this method you will gain a considerable
point, which is wholly to wave the answer of my arguments. [479] Never
own the bottom of your principles, for fear they should be treason.
Fall severely on the miscarriages of government; for, if scandal be not
allowed, you are no free-born subjects. If God has not blessed you
with the talent of rhyming, make use of my poor stock, and welcome; let
your verses run upon my feet; and for the utmost refuge of notorious
blockheads, reduced to the last extremity of sense, turn my own lines
upon me, and, in utter despair of your satire, make me satirise
myself. [480] Some of you have been driven to this bay already; but,
above all the rest, commend me to the non-conformist parson, who writ
the "Whip and Key. " I am afraid it is not read so much as the piece
deserves, because the bookseller is every week crying help, at the end
of his Gazette, to get it off. You see I am charitable enough to do
him a kindness, that it may be published as well as printed; and that
so much skill in Hebrew derivations may not lie for waste-paper in the
shop: Yet, I half suspect he went no farther for his learning, than
the index of Hebrew names and etymologies, which is printed at the end
of some English bibles. If Achitophel signify "the brother of a fool,"
the author of that poem will pass with his readers for the next of
kin; and perhaps, it is the relation that makes the kindness. [481]
Whatever the verses are, buy them up, I beseech you, out of pity; for I
hear the conventicle is shut up, and the brother of Achitophel out of
service.
[482]

Now, footmen, you know, have the generosity to make a purse for a
member of their society, who has had his livery pulled over his
ears; and even protestant socks[484] are bought up among you, out
of veneration to the name. A dissenter in poetry from sense and
English, will make as good a protestant rhymer, as a dissenter from
the church of England a protestant parson. Besides, if you encourage
a young beginner, who knows but he may elevate his style a little
above the vulgar epithets of "profane, and saucy Jack," and "atheistic
scribbler," with which he treats me, when the fit of enthusiasm is
strong upon him; by which well-mannered and charitable expressions, I
was certain of his sect before I knew his name. What would you have
more of a man? He has damned me in your cause from Genesis to the
Revelations; and has half the texts of both the Testaments against
me, if you will be so civil to yourselves as to take him for your
interpreter, and not to take them for Irish witnesses. [485] After all,
perhaps, you will tell me, that you retained him only for the opening
of your cause, and that your main lawyer is yet behind. Now, if it
so happen he meet with no more reply than his predecessors, you may
either conclude that I trust to the goodness of my cause, or fear my
adversary, or disdain him, or what you please; for the short of it is,
it is indifferent to your humble servant, whatever your party says or
thinks of him.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 470: See Note I. ]

[Footnote 471: William Bower, who engraved the medal. ]

[Footnote 472: See the engraving of Shaftesbury's medal where the
sun breaks from a cloud over the Tower, in which he had lately been
imprisoned. Dryden intimates, his head should have been placed there;
and indeed the gory heads and members of Shaftesbury's adherents were
shortly afterwards too common a spectacle on Tower-Hill, the Bridge,
Temple-Bar, &c. Roger North mentions it as a very unpleasant part of
his brother Dudley's office of sheriff, that the executioner came to
him for orders, touching the disposal of the limbs of those who had
suffered. "Once, while he was abroad, a cart, with some of them, came
into the court-yard of his house, and frighted his lady almost out
of her wits. And she could never be reconciled to the dog hangman's
saying, 'he came to speak with his master. " _Life of the Hon. Sir_
DUDLEY NORTH, p. 138. ]

[Footnote 473: A tract, in three parts, written to prove the innocence
of Shaftesbury, Colledge, and the Whigs, from the alleged machinations
against the king at Oxford. The first part is said to have been written
chiefly by the earl himself; the two last, by Robert Ferguson, the
plotter. ]

[Footnote 474: Alluding to the king's proclamation against tumultuous
petitions, dated 12th December, 1679. ]

[Footnote 475: A pamphlet written by Andrew Marvel, and reprinted in
the State Tracts. It was published in 1677-8; and, as it traced the
intrigues of the court of England with that of France, it made a great
impression on the nation. I cannot help thinking, that it was upon the
horror which this piece had excited for the progress of Popery, that
Oates and Tongue grounded their legend, and that they found the people
prepared to receive it by the previous tract of Marvel. ]

[Footnote 476: See "The Defence of the Duke of Guise," and the
"Postscript to the Translation of Maimbrurg's History of the League,"
where Dryden pursues this parallel. ]

[Footnote 477: The Whig writers observed a prudent degree of ambiguity
concerning the draught of the Association, found in Shaftesbury's
study; for, while they endeavoured to defend the purpose and principles
for which it was proposed, they insinuated, that it might possibly
have been shuffled in amongst Lord Shaftesbury's papers, by the
messenger who seized them. It was said, to strengthen this suspicion,
that Wilson, the earl's secretary, was employed by him to indorse all
the papers which the messengers seized and carried off, and that this
scroll bore no such indorsement: it was even added, that Wilson himself
was imprisoned, to deprive Shaftesbury of the benefit of his evidence
to this point. There is, however, no reason to think the paper was not
actually found in the earl's repositories. ]

[Footnote 478: In 1584, there was a general association entered
into by the subjects of Queen Elizabeth, for the defence of her
person, supposed to be endangered by the plots of the Catholics and
malcontents. Many of its most striking expressions are copied into the
draught found in Shaftesbury's house. It was confirmed by act 27th of
Queen Elizabeth, and cannot but be supposed as acceptable to the crown,
as that of Shaftesbury would have been obnoxious. ]

[Footnote 479: How literally Dryden's opponents adopted the licence
here given, appears from the "Loyal Medal Vindicated," published in
1681, and addressed,

"To the Disloyal Tories.

"To all, I mean, except the author of the Medal; for he being a Tory
of two editions, it seems impossible to appropriate his genius more to
King Charles than Oliver Cromwell. And if Noll was so kind, though a
saucy tenant, to leave him as a heriot of the muses, unto whomsoever
should possess Whitehall, let none admire that he, that could so
deify an usurper, does afterwards endeavour to expiate that crime by
_Torifying_ the government of a legal monarch, &c. I have no more to
say to him, and his Tory friends, by way of argument, but rather greet
him, in conclusion, as poetically as he can pretend to deserve. " The
following introduction may suffice to shew how far the poetry was
commensurate to the deserts of Dryden:

If nothing can the worth of men excuse,
Thus meanly blasted by a sculking muse;
If what's against humanity and sense,
Finds from the world a horrid complaisance;
If one must flout another's mould or face,
Because discretion there has ancient place;
Then let thy hireling verse such fictions raise,
As long may fatten thy desertless praise,
But may heaven stay thy much licentious pen,
When to spite faces thou shall write again,
Lest thou thy sovereign's image next should stain,
Since looks, and men, thou darest traduce for gain;
And all to allow thy forehead so much brass,
As stiles thee there a stigmatized ass.

Conclusion to Shaftesbury:

Fame must be posed, unless you shall admit
To leave your image written by your wit;
Yet still by you memoirs are so designed, }
Your medal does oblige, in which we find }
The outward graces of so firm a mind; }
Though, in this gift, best Protestants allow
They're tempted even to superstition too,
As hard 'tis such a patriot to admire,
And not than common man to grant him higher.
]

[Footnote 480: One writer was so much incensed at this challenge,
as to plead it for the apology of having degraded himself by a
controversy with Dryden. "I have more honourable employ, than, like a
schoolboy, to cap verses, or to blemish my larger name with that of
Bayes or Laureat. Only, it moved my indignation, as well as scorn,
when I read his challenge to the Whigs, p. 6. of his Epistle, and
the bravado extorted from me this nimble check, but just rebuke, for
such arrogance, opiniatry, and petulancy, to abate, if possible, his
pride, and the contempt he seems to have of the Whigs, whom the hackney
laureat does so magisterially despise at such a rate, that the Tory
courtiers (poor hearts, they know no better) hug and admire the imbost
rhodomontade. "--_Mushroom_, p. 18. How far the author's talents were
equal to the purpose of chastizing Dryden, and raising the renown of
Whig poetry, may be seen by some curious specimens in Note XII. on the
following poem. ]

[Footnote 481: As I have not as yet been able to meet with the "Whip
and Key," I subjoin the account which Mr Malone has given of it: "A
Whip for the Fool's Back, who styles honourable marriage a cursed
confinement, in his profane poem of Absalom and Achitophel;" and this
was followed, on the 18th of January, by "A Key (with the Whip) to open
the mystery and iniquity of the poem called Absalom and Achitophel,
shewing its scurrilous reflections on both king and kingdom. " In the
latter piece, which was written by the same hand as the former, the
author's principal object is to show, that Dryden's Jewish names were
not well chosen. As probably very few of my readers have ever seen this
poem, I will add a short extract:

"How well this Hebrew name with sense doth sound,
_A fool's my brother_,[483] though in wit profound!
Most wicked wits are the devil's chiefest tools,
Which, ever in the issue, God befools.
Can thy compare, vile varlet, once hold true,
Of the loyal Lord, and this disloyal Jew?
Was e'er our English Earl under disgrace,
And, as unconscionable, put out of place?
Hath he laid lurking in his country-house,
To plot rebellions, as one factious?
Thy bog-trot bloodhounds hunted have this stag,
Yet cannot fasten their foul fangs,--they flag.
Why did'st not thou bring in thy evidence,
With them, to rectify the brave jury's sense,
And so prevent the _Ignoramus_? --nay,
Thou wast cock-sure he would be damn'd for aye,
Without thy presence;--thou wast then employ'd
To brand him 'gainst he came to be destroy'd:
'Forehand preparing for the hangman's axe,
Had not the witnesses been found so lax. "

MALONE'S _Life of Dryden_, Vol. I. p. 159.

It must also be noticed, that the author of the "Whip and Key" opens
his poem with the ten first lines of "Absalom and Achitophel. "]

[Footnote 482: Derrick is pleased to explain "the brother of
Achitophel," by favouring us with an account of Shaftesbury's brother,
George Cooper, Esq. This is a remarkable instance of a knavish speech
sleeping in a foolish ear. For the benefit of any person of equally
obtuse intellects, it may be necessary to say, the non-conformist
parson is the party meant, whom Dryden styles "brother to Achitophel,"
if Achitophel, according to his own derivation, be brother to a fool;
and truly the commentator seems to have been of the kindred. ]

[Footnote 483: _Achi_, my brother, and _tophel_, a fool. --Orig. Note. ]

[Footnote 484: The epithet was still more whimsically assumed by the
famous Nell Gwyn, when her carriage was beset by the mob, who took
it for that of the Duchess of Portsmouth, and loaded the inmate with
all the opprobrious epithets which could be applied to a Papist, or a
woman; Nell at length looked out, and convinced them of their mistake,
by assuring them "she was the _Protestant whore_. "]

[Footnote 485: Alluding to the Irish witnesses brought against
Shaftesbury, to whom the Whigs refused credit as soon as they ceased to
swear on their side; a great subject of complaint to the Tories.

Poor Teague and Rory, who renewed the story,
Were babes of grace while swearing was in fashion;
But when the Whig was charged by the true Tory,
The joyner's flail did thresh them out of the nation;
Then all was gospel-proof, and now all subornation;
Against old Tony, perjured every mother's son,
And now poor Teague and Rory,
To his nation's glory,
May plot at home, and sing, O hone! O hone!
]




RECOMMENDATORY VERSES.

UPON

THE AUTHOR

OF THE FOLLOWING POEM.


Once more our awful poet arms, to engage
The threatning hydra-faction of the age:
Once more prepares his dreadful pen to wield,
And every muse attends him to the field:
By art and nature for this task designed,
Yet modestly the fight he long declined;
Forbore the torrent of his verse to pour,
Nor loosed his satire till the needful hour:
His sovereign's right, by patience half betrayed,
Waked his avenging genius to its aid.
Blest muse, whose wit with such a cause was crowned,
And blest the cause that such a champion found;
With chosen verse upon the foe he falls,
And black sedition in each quarter galls;
Yet, like a prince with subjects forced to engage,
Secure of conquest, he rebates his rage;
His fury not without distinction sheds,
Hurls mortal bolts but on devoted heads:
To less infected members gentle found,
Or spares, or else pours balm into the wound.
Such generous grace the ungrateful tribe abuse,
And trespass on the mercy of his muse;
Their wretched doggrell rhimers forth they bring,
To snarl and bark against the poet's king:
A crew, that scandalize the nation more
Than all their treason-canting priests before!
On these he scarce vouchsafes a scornful smile,
But on their powerful patrons turns his style:
A style so keen, as even from faction draws
The vital poison, stabs to the heart their cause.
Take then, great bard, what tribute we can raise;
Accept our thanks, for you transcend our praise.




TO

THE UNKNOWN AUTHOR[486]

OF THE FOLLOWING POEM,

AND THAT OF

ABSALOM AND ACHITOPHEL.


Thus pious ignorance, with dubious praise,
Altars of old, to gods unknown, did raise:
They knew not the loved Deity, they knew
Divine effects a cause divine did shew:
Nor can we doubt, when such these numbers are, }
Such is their cause, though the worst muse shall dare }
Their sacred worth in humble verse declare. }
As gentle Thames, charmed with thy tuneful song,
Glides in a peaceful majesty along;
No rebel stone, no lofty bank, does brave
The easy passage of his silent wave;
So, sacred poet, so thy numbers flow,
Sinewy, yet mild, as happy lovers woo;
Strong, yet harmonious too, as planets move,
Yet soft as down upon the wings of love.
How sweet does virtue in your dress appear!
How much more charming, when much less severe!
Whilst you our senses harmlessly beguile,
With all the allurements of your happy style;
You insinuate loyalty with kind deceit,
And into sense the unthinking many cheat:
So the sweet Thracian, with his charming lyre,
Into rude nature virtue did inspire;
So he the savage herd to reason drew,
Yet scarce so sweet, so charmingly, as you.
Oh that you would, with some such powerful charm,
Enervate Albion to just valour warm!
Whether much-suffering Charles shall theme afford,
Or the great deeds of god-like James's sword;
Again fair Gallia might be ours, again
Another fleet might pass the subject main;
Another Edward lead the Britains on,
Or such an Ossory as you did moan:
While in such numbers you, in such a strain,
Inflame their courage, and reward their pain.
Let false Achitophel the rout engage,
Talk easy Absalom to rebel rage;
Let frugal Shimei curse in holy zeal,
Or modest Corah more new plots reveal;
Whilst constant to himself, secure of fate,
Good David still maintains the royal state;
Though each in vain such various ills employs,
Firmly he stands, and even those ills enjoys;
Firm as fair Albion midst the raging main,
Surveys encircling danger with disdain.
In vain the waves assault the unmoved shore, }
In vain the winds with mingled fury roar, }
Fair Albion's beauteous cliffs shine whiter than before. }
Nor shalt thou move, though hell thy fall conspire,
Though the worse rage of zeal's fanatic fire,
Thou best, thou greatest of the British race,
Thou only fit to fill great Charles his place.
Ah wretched Britons! ah too stubborn isle!
Ah stiff-necked Israel on blest Canaan's soil!
Are those dear proofs of heaven's indulgence vain,
Restoring David and his gentle reign?
Is it in vain thou all the goods dost know, }
Auspicious stars on mortals shed below, }
While all thy streams with milk, thy lands with honey flow? }
No more, fond isle! no more thyself engaged,
In civil fury, and intestine rage,
No rebel zeal thy duteous land molest,
But a smooth calm sooth every peaceful breast,
While in such charming notes divinely sings
The best of poets, of the best of kings.

[Illustration: _To Face Page 430, Vol 9th_]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 486: There seems to have been some uncertainty, both among
Tories and Whigs, concerning the author of "The Medal. " Settle,
himself, did not recognize the hand of Dryden; for he thus expresses
himself:--"I am not of opinion, that the author of "The Medal," and
that of "Absalom and Achitophel," is one person, since the style and
painting is far different, and their satires are of a different hue,
the one being a much more slovenly beast than the other; yet, since
they desire to be thought so, let the one bear the reproaches of the
other. "--_Preface to Medal Reversed. _]




THE

MEDAL.


Of all our antic sights and pageantry,
Which English idiots run in crowds to see,
The Polish Medal[487] bears the prize alone; }
A monster, more the favourite of the town }
Than either fairs or theatres have shown. }
Never did art so well with nature strive,
Nor ever idol seemed so much alive;
So like the man, so golden to the sight,
So base within, so counterfeit and light.
One side is filled with title and with face;
And, lest the king should want a regal place,
On the reverse a Tower the town surveys,
O'er which our mounting sun his beams displays
The word, pronounced aloud by shrieval voice,
LÆTAMUR, which, in Polish, is _rejoice_;[488]
The day, month, year, to the great act are joined,
And a new canting holiday designed;
Five days he sat for every cast and look,
Four more than God to finish Adam took.
But who can tell what essence angels are?
Or how long Heaven was making Lucifer?
Oh, could the style that copied every grace,
And plowed such furrows for an eunuch face,
Could it have formed his ever-changing will,
The various piece had tired the graver's skill!
A martial hero first, with early care,
Blown, like a pigmy by the winds, to war;
A beardless chief, a rebel ere a man;
So young his hatred to his prince began. [489]
Next this,--how wildly will ambition steer!
A vermin wriggling in the usurper's ear;[490]
Bartering his venal wit for sums of gold,
He cast himself into the saint-like mould;
Groaned, sighed, and prayed, while godliness was gain,
The loudest bagpipe of the squeaking train.
But, as 'tis hard to cheat a juggler's eyes,
His open lewdness he could ne'er disguise. [491]
There split the saint; for hypocritic zeal
Allows no sins but those it can conceal:
Whoring to scandal gives too large a scope;
Saints must not trade, but they may interlope:
The ungodly principle was all the same;
But a gross cheat betrays his partner's game.
Besides, their pace was formal, grave, and slack;
His nimble wit outran the heavy pack;
Yet still he found his fortune at a stay,
Whole droves of blockheads choking up his way;
They took, but not rewarded, his advice;
Villain and wit exact a double price.
Power was his aim; but thrown from that pretence, }
The wretch turned loyal in his own defence, }
And malice reconciled him to his prince[492] }
Him, in the anguish of his soul, he served;
Rewarded faster still than he deserved. [493]
Behold him now exalted into trust;
His counsel's oft convenient, seldom just;
Even in the most sincere advice he gave,
He had a grudging still to be a knave.
The frauds, he learned in his fanatic years,
Made him uneasy in his lawful gears;
At best, as little honest as he could,
And, like white witches, mischievously good;
To his first bias longingly he leans,
And rather would be great by wicked means.
Thus framed for ill, he loosed our triple hold;
Advice unsafe, precipitous, and bold.
From hence those tears, that Ilium of our woe!
Who helps a powerful friend, forearms a foe.
What wonder if the waves prevail so far,
When he cut down the banks that made the bar?
Seas follow but their nature to invade;
But he, by art, our native strength betrayed:
So Samson to his foe his force confest,
And, to be shorn, lay slumbering on her breast.
But when this fatal counsel, found too late,
Exposed its author to the public hate;
When his just sovereign by no impious way
Could be seduced to arbitrary sway;
Forsaken of that hope, he shifts his sail, }
Drives down the current with a popular gale, }
And shows the fiend confessed without a veil. [494] }
He preaches to the crowd, that power is lent,
But not conveyed, to kingly government;
That claims successive bear no binding force;
That coronation oaths are things of course;
Maintains the multitude can never err;
And sets the people in the papal chair.
The reason's obvious,--interest never lies; }
The most have still their interest in their eyes; }
The power is always theirs, and power is ever wise. }
Almighty crowd! thou shortenest all dispute;
Power is thy essence, wit thy attribute!
Nor faith nor reason make thee at a stay;
Thou leapst o'er all eternal truths in thy pindaric way!
Athens, no doubt, did righteously decide,
When Phocion and when Socrates were tried;
As righteously they did those dooms repent;
Still they were wise, whatever way they went:
Crowds err not, though to both extremes they run;
To kill the father, and recal the son.
Some think the fools were most as times went then,
But now the world's o'erstocked with prudent men.
The common cry is even religion's test,--
The Turk's is at Constantinople best,
Idols in India, popery at Rome,
And our own worship only true at home;
And true but for the time, 'tis hard to know
How long we please it shall continue so;
This side to-day, and that to-morrow burns;
So all are God-almighties in their turns.
A tempting doctrine, plausible and new;
What fools our fathers were, if this be true!
Who, to destroy the seeds of civil war,
Inherent right in monarchs did declare;
And, that a lawful power might never cease,
Secured succession to secure our peace.
Thus property and sovereign sway at last
In equal balances were justly cast;
But this new Jehu spurs the hot-mouthed horse,
Instructs the beast to know his native force,
To take the bit between his teeth, and fly
To the next headlong steep of anarchy.
Too happy England, if our good we knew,
Would we possess the freedom we pursue!
The lavish government can give no more;
Yet we repine, and plenty makes us poor.
God tried us once; our rebel fathers fought;
He glutted them with all the power they sought,
Till, mastered by their own usurping brave,
The free-born subject sunk into a slave.
We loath our manna, and we long for quails;
Ah, what is man, when his own wish prevails!
How rash, how swift to plunge himself in ill,
Proud of his power, and boundless in his will!
That kings can do no wrong, we must believe;
None can they do, and must they all receive?
Help, heaven! or sadly we shall see an hour,
When neither wrong nor right are in their power!
Already they have lost their best defence,
The benefit of laws, which they dispense;
No justice to their righteous cause allowed,
But baffled by an arbitrary crowd;
And medals graved their conquest to record,
The stamp and coin of their adopted lord.
The man, who laughed but once to see an ass
Mumbling to make the cross-grained thistles pass,[495]
Might laugh again to see a jury chew
The prickles of unpalatable law.
The witnesses, that leech-like lived on blood,
Sucking for them were med'cinally good;
But when they fastened on their festered sore, }
Then justice and religion they forswore; }
Their maiden oaths debauched into a whore. }
Thus men are raised by factions, and decried,
And rogue and saint distinguished by their side;[496]
They rack even scripture to confess their cause,
And plead a call to preach in spite of laws.
But that's no news to the poor injured page,
It has been used as ill in every age;
And is constrained with patience all to take,
For what defence can Greek and Hebrew make?
Happy, who can this talking trumpet seize;
They make it speak whatever sense they please!
'Twas framed at first our oracle, to enquire; }
But since our sects in prophecy grow higher, }
The text inspires not them, but they the text inspire. }
London, thou great emporium of our isle,
O thou too bounteous, thou too fruitful Nile!
How shall I praise or curse to thy desert?
Or separate thy sound from thy corrupted part?
I called thee Nile; the parallel will stand:
Thy tides of wealth o'erflow the fattened land;
Yet monsters from thy large increase we find,
Engendered on the slime thou leav'st behind.
Sedition has not wholly seized on thee,
Thy nobler parts are from infection free.
Of Israel's tribes thou hast a numerous band,
But still the Canaanite is in the land;
Thy military chiefs are brave and true,
Nor are thy disenchanted burghers few;
The head is loyal which thy heart commands,
But what's a head with two such gouty hands? [497]
The wise and wealthy love the surest way,
And are content to thrive and to obey.
But wisdom is to sloth too great a slave;
None are so busy as the fool and knave.
Those let me curse; what vengeance will they urge,
Whose ordures neither plague nor fire can purge;
Nor sharp experience can to duty bring,
Nor angry heaven, nor a forgiving king!
In gospel-phrase their chapmen they betray;
Their shops are dens, the buyer is their prey:
The knack of trades is living on the spoil;
They boast even when each other they beguile.
Customs to steal is such a trivial thing,
That 'tis their charter to defraud their king.
All hands unite of every jarring sect;
They cheat the country first, and then infect.
They for God's cause their monarchs dare dethrone,
And they'll be sure to make his cause their own.
Whether the plotting jesuit laid the plan
Of murdering kings, or the French puritan,
Our sacrilegious sects their guides outgo,
And kings and kingly power would murder too.
What means their traitorous combination less,
Too plain to evade, too shameful to confess!
But treason is not owned when 'tis descried;
Successful crimes alone are justified.
The men, who no conspiracy would find,
Who doubts, but, had it taken, they had joined,--
Joined in a mutual covenant of defence,
At first without, at last against, their prince?
If sovereign right by sovereign power they scan,
The same bold maxim holds in God and man:
God were not safe, his thunder could they shun,
He should be forced to crown another son.
Thus, when the heir was from the vineyard thrown,
The rich possession was the murderer's own. [498]
In vain to sophistry they have recourse; }
By proving their's no plot, they prove 'tis worse, }
Unmasked rebellion, and audacious force; }
Which, though not actual, yet all eyes may see,
'Tis working in the immediate power to be;
For from pretended grievances they rise,
First to dislike, and after to despise;
Then, cyclop-like, in human flesh to deal,
Chop up a minister at every meal;
Perhaps not wholly to melt down the king,
But clip his regal rights within the ring,[499]
From thence to assume the power of peace and war,
And ease him, by degrees, of public care:
Yet, to consult his dignity and fame, }
He should have leave to exercise the name, }
And hold the cards while commons played the game. }
For what can power give more than food and drink,
To live at ease, and not be bound to think?
These are the cooler methods of their crime,
But their hot zealots think 'tis loss of time;
On utmost bounds of loyalty they stand, }
And grin and whet like a Croatian band, }
That waits impatient for the last command. }
Thus outlaws open villainy maintain;
They steal not, but in squadrons scour the plain;
And if their power the passengers subdue,
The most have right, the wrong is in the few.
Such impious axioms foolishly they show,
For in some soils republics will not grow:
Our temperate isle will no extremes sustain
Of popular sway, or arbitrary reign;
But slides between them both into the best,
Secure in freedom, in a monarch blest;
And though the climate, vexed with various winds,
Works through our yielding bodies on our minds,
The wholesome tempest purges what it breeds,
To recommend the calmness that succeeds.
But thou, the pandar of the people's hearts,
O crooked soul, and serpentine in arts,
Whose blandishments a loyal land have whored,
And broke the bonds she plighted to her lord;
What curses on thy blasted name will fall, }
Which age to age their legacy shall call! }
For all must curse the woes that must descend on all. }
Religion thou hast none: thy mercury
Has passed through every sect, or theirs through thee.
But what thou givest, that venom still remains,
And the poxed nation feels thee in their brains.
What else inspires the tongues, and swells the breasts,
Of all thy bellowing renegado priests,[500]
That preach up thee for God, dispense thy laws,
And with thy stum ferment their fainting cause;
Fresh fumes of madness raise, and toil and sweat,
To make the formidable cripple great?
Yet should thy crimes succeed, should lawless power
Compass those ends thy greedy hopes devour,
Thy canting friends thy mortal foes would be,
Thy God and theirs will never long agree;
For thine, if thou hast any, must be one,
That lets the world and human-kind alone;
A jolly god, that passes hours too well,
To promise heaven, or threaten us with hell;
That unconcerned can at rebellion sit,
And wink at crimes he did himself commit.
A tyrant theirs; the heaven their priesthood paints
A conventicle of gloomy sullen saints;
A heaven, like Bedlam, slovenly and sad,
Fore-doomed for souls with false religion mad.
Without a vision, poets can foreshow
What all but fools, by common sense, may know:
If true succession from our isle should fail,
And crowds profane, with impious arms, prevail,
Not thou, nor those thy factious arts engage, }
Shall reap that harvest of rebellious rage, }
With which thou flatterest thy decrepid age. [501] }
The swelling poison of the several sects,
Which, wanting vent, the nation's health infects,
Shall burst its bag, and, fighting out their way,
The various venoms on each other prey.
The presbyter, puffed up with spiritual pride,
Shall on the necks of the lewd nobles ride;
His brethren damn, the civil power defy,
And parcel out republic prelacy.
But short shall be his reign; his rigid yoke,
And tyrant power, will puny sects provoke;
And frogs and toads, and all the tadpole train,
Will croak to heaven for help from this devouring crane.
The cut-throat sword and clamorous gown shall jar,
In sharing their ill-gotten spoils of war;
Chiefs shall be grudged the part which they pretend; }
Lords envy lords, and friends with every friend }
About their impious merit shall contend. }
The surly commons shall respect deny,
And jostle peerage out with property.
Their general either shall his trust betray,
And force the crowd to arbitrary sway;
Or they, suspecting his ambitious aim, }
In hate of kings shall cast anew the frame, }
And thrust out Collatine,[502] that bore their name. }
Thus, inborn broils the factions would engage, }
Or wars of exiled heirs, or foreign rage, }
Till halting vengeance overtook our age; }
And our wild labours, wearied into rest,
Reclined us on a rightful monarch's breast.

_------Pudet hæc opprobria, vobis
Et dici potuisse, et non potuisse refelli. _

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 487: Note I. ]

[Footnote 488: Note II. ]

[Footnote 489: Note III. ]

[Footnote 490: Note IV. ]

[Footnote 491: Note V. ]

[Footnote 492: Note VI. ]

[Footnote 493: Note VII. ]

[Footnote 494: Note VIII. ]

[Footnote 495: Crassus, according to Lucilius, only laughed once in his
life, and that at the miserable joke in the text. ]

[Footnote 496: Note IX. ]

[Footnote 497: Note X. ]

[Footnote 498: See the parable of the vineyard, in the gospel of St
Matthew, chap. xxi. ver. 33.