A collection of the writings of the author of The true-born English-man.

Table of contents

- [titlepage]

- AN Explanatory Preface.

- [poem]

- THE PREFACE.

- The Introduction.

- The True-Born Englishman. PART I.

- The True-Born Englishman. PART II.

- The Conclusion.

- THE Mock Mourners. A SATYR, By way of ELEGY on King WILLIAM.

- To the QUEEN.

- A SATYR, &c.

- REFORMATION OF MANNERS.

- The PREFACE.

- A SATYR, &c.

- PART II.

- CONCLUƲSION.

- THE Spanish Descent. A POEM.

- THE Poor Man's PLEA. IN Relation to all the Proclamations, De clarations, Acts of Parliament, &c. which have been, or shall be made, or publish'd, for a Reformation of Manners and suppressing Immorality in the Nation.

- The PREFACE.

- THE The Poor Man's PLEA.

- AN ENQUIRY INTO THE Occasional Conformity OF DISSENTERS, IN Cases of Preferment.

- Preface to Mr. HOW.

- A DISCOURSE UPON Occasional Conformity.

- AN ENQUIRY INTO Occasional Conformity. Shewing that the DISSENTERS Are no Way Concern'd in it.

- A NEW TEST OF THE Church of England's Loyalty: OR, WHIGGISH LOYALTY AND CHURCH LOYALTY COMPAR'D

- THE SHORTEST-WAY WITH THE DISSENTERS: OR, PROPOSALS FOR THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE CHURCH.

- [bodyofessay]

- A brief Explanation of a late Pamphlet, Entituled, The Shortest Way with the Dissenters.

- A DIALOGUE BETWEEN A DISSENTER AND THE OBSERVATOR. CONCERNING The Shortest way with the Dissenters.

- LEX TALIONIS. OR, AN ENQUIRY INTO The most Proper Ways to Prevent THE PERSECUTION OF THE Protestants in France.

- A LETTER to Mr. HOW, By Way of REPLY TO HIS CONSIDERATIONS OF THE PREFACE TO AN Enquiry into the Occasional Conformity of DISSENTERS.

FINIS.

A COLLECTION OF THE WRITINGS Of the AUTHOR of the True-Born ENGLISH-MAN.

VIZ.

- I. The True-Born English-man. A Satyr.

- II. The Mock Mourners. A Satyr.

- III. Reformation of Manners. A Satyr.

- IV. The Spanish Descent. A Poem.

- V. The Poor Mans Plea, concerning Reformation of Manners.

- VI. An Enquiry into the Occasional Conformity of the Dissenters, in Cases of Preferment: With a Preface to Mr. How.

- VII. An Enquiry into Occasional Conformity: Shew•… that the Dissenters are •o Way Concern'd in it.

- VIII. A New Test of the Church of England's Loyalty.

- IX. The Shortest Way with the Dissenters.

- X. A brief Explanation of the Shortest Way with the Dissenters.

- XI. A Dialogue between a Dissenter and the Observator, concerning The Shortest Way with Dissenters.

- XII. Lex Talionis: Or, An Enquiry into the most Proper Ways to Pr•…ent the Persecution of the Protestants in France.

- XIII. A Letter to Mr. How, by way of Reply to his Considerations of the Preface to an Enquiry into the Occasional Conformity of Dissenters.

London, Printed in the Year 1703.

AN Explanatory Preface.

IT is not that I see any Reason to alter my Opinion in any thing I have Writ, which occasions this Epistle; but I find it necessary for the satisfaction of some Persons of Honour, as well as Wit, to pass a short Explication upon it, and tell the World what I mean, or rather, what I do not mean, in some things wherein I find I am liable to be mis-understood.

I confess my self something surpriz'd to hear that I am tax'd with Bewraying my Own Nest, and Abusing our Nation, by Discovering the Meanness of our Original, in order to make the English contemptible abroad and at home; in which, I think, they are mistaken: For why should not our Neighbours be as good as We to Derive from? And I must add, That had we been an Unmix'd Nation, I am of Opinion it had been to our Disadvantage: For to go on farther, we have three Nations about us as clear from Mixtures of Blood as any in the World, and I know not which of them I could wish our selves to be like; I mean the Scots, the Welsh and Irish; and if I were to write a Reverse to the Satyr, I would examine all the Nations of Europe, and prove, That those Nations which are most mixed, are the best, and have least of Barbarism and Brutality among them; and abundance of Reasons might be given for it, too long to bring into a Preface.

But I give this Hint, to let the World know, that I am far from thinking, 'tis a Satyr, upon the English Nation, to tell them, They are Deriv'd from all the Nations under Heaven; that is, from several Nations Nor is it meant to undervalue the Original of the English, for we see no Reason to like them the worse, being the Relicks of Romans, Danes, Saxons and Normans, than we shoul'd ha' done, if they had remain'd Britains, that is, than if they had been all Welshmen.

But the Intent of the Satyr is pointed at the Vanity of those who talk of their Antiquity, and value themselves upon their Pedigree, their Ancient Families, and being True Born; whereas 'tis impossible we shou'd be True Born; and if we could, shou'd have lost by the Bargain.

These sort of People, who Call themselves True Born, and tell long Stories of their Families, and like a Nobleman of Venice, Think a Foreigner ought not to walk on the same side of the Street with them, are own'd to be meant in this Satyr. What they would infer from their own Original, I know not, nor is it easie to make out whether they are the better, or the worse for their Ancestors: Our English Nation may Value themselves for their Wit, Wealth, and Courage, and I believe few will dispute it with them; but for long Originals, and Ancient True Born Families of English, I wou'd advise them to wave the Discourse. A True English Man is one that deserves a Character, and I have no where lessened him, that I know of; but as for a True Born English Man, I confess I do not understand him.

From hence I only infer, That an English Man, of all Men ought not to despise Foreigners as such, and I think the Inference is just, since what they are to day, we were yesterday, and to morrow they will be like us. If Foreigners misbehave in their several Stations and Employments, I have nothing to do with that; the Laws are open to Punish them equally with Natives, and let them have no Favour.

But when I see the Town full of Lampoons and Invectives against Dutchmen, only because they are Foreigners, and the King Reproached and Insulted by Insolent Pedants, and Ballad-making Poets, for employing Foreigners; and for being a Foreigner himself, I confess my self mov'd by it to remind our Nation of their own Original, thereby to let them see what a Banter is put upon our selves in it; since speaking of Englishmen ab Origine, we are really Foreigners our selves.

I could go on to prove 'tis also Impolitick in us to discourage Foreigners; since 'tis easie to make it appear that the multitudes of Foreign Nations who have took Sanctuary here, have been the greatest Additions to the Wealth and Strength of the Nation; the great Essential whereof is the Number of its Inhabitants: Nor would this Nation have ever arriv'd to the Degree of Wealth and Glory, it now boasts of, if the addition of Foreign Nations, both as to Manufactures and Arms, had not been helpful to it. This is so plain, that he who is ignorant of it, is too dull to be talked with.

The Satyr therefore I must allow to be just, till I am otherwise convinc'd; because nothing can be more ridiculous, than to hear our People boast of that Antiquity, which if it had been true, would have left us in so much worse a Condition than we are in now: Whereas we ought rather to boast among our Neighbours, that we are a part of themselves, or the same Original as they, but better'd by our Climate, and like our Language and Manufactures, deriv'd from them, and improv'd by us to a Perfection greater than they can pretend to.

This we might have valued our selves upon without Vanity: But to disown our Descent from them, talking big of our Ancient Families, and long Originals, and stand at a distance, from Foreigners, like the Enthusiast in Religion, with a Stand off, I am more holy than thou: This is a thing so ridiculous, in a Nation deriv'd from Foreigners, as we are, that I could not but attack them as I have done.

And whereas I am threaten'd to be call'd to a Publick Account for this Freedom; and the Publisher of this has been New-Paper'd in Goal already for it; tho' I see nothing in it for which the Government can be displeased; yet, if at the same time those People who with an Unlimited Arrogance in Print, every day Affront the King, Prescribe the Parliament, and Lampoon the Government, may be either Punished or Restrained, I am content to stand and fall by the Publick Justice of my Native Countrey, which I am not sensible I have any where injur'd.

Nor would I be mis-understood concerning the Clergy; with whom if I have taken any License more than becomes a Satyr, I question not but those Gentlemen, who are Men of Letters, are also Men of so much Candor, as to allow me a Loose at the Crimes of the Guilty, without thinking the whole Profession Lash'd, who are Innocent. I profess to have very mean Thoughts of those Gentlemen who have deserted their own Principles, and expos'd even their Morals as well as Loyalty; but not at all to think it affects any but such as are concern'd in the Fact.

Nor wou'd I be mis-represented as to the Ingratitude of the English to the King and his Friends; as if I meant the English as a Nation, are so. The contrary is so apparent, That I wou'd hope it shou'd not be Suggested of me: And therefore when I have brought in Britannia Speaking of the King, I suppose Her to be the Representative, or Mouth of the Nation, as a Body. But if I say we are full of such who daily affront the King, and abuse his Friends; who Print Scurrilous Pamphlets, Virulent Lampoons, and reproachful Publick Banters, against both the King's Person and Government; I say nothing but what is too true: And that the Satyr is directed at such, I freely own; and cannot say, but I shou'd think it very hard to be Censur'd for this Satyr, while such remain Ʋnquestion'd, and tacitly approv'd. That I can mean none but such, is plain ftom these few Lines.

Ye Heavens regard! Almighty Jove, look down,

And view thy Injur'd Monarch on the Throne.

On their Ungrateful Heads due Vengeance take,

Who sought his Aid, and then his Part forsake.

If I have fallen upon our Vices, I hope none but the Vicious will be Angery. As for Writing for Interest, I disown it; I have neither Place, nor Pension, nor Prospect; nor seek none, nor will have none: If matter of Fact justifies the Truth of the Crimes, the Satyr is Just. As to the Poetick Liberties, I hope the Crime is Pardonable: I am content to be Ston'd, provided none will Attack me but the Innocent.

If my Country-Men wou'd take the Hint, and grow better-Natur'd from my ill-Natur'd Poem, as some call it; I would say this of it, that tho' 'tis far from the best Satyr that ever was Wrote, 'twould do the most Good that ever Satyr did.

And yet I am ready to ask Pardon of some Gentlemen too; who tho' they are English-men, have good Nature enough to see themselves Reprov'd, and can bear it. These are Gentlemen in a true Sence, that can bear to be told of their Faux Pas, and not abuse the Reprover. To such I must say, this is no Satyr; they are Exceptions to the General Rule; and I value my Performance from their Generous Approbation, more than I can from any Opinion I have of its Worth.

The hasty Errors of my Verse I made my Excuse for, before; and since the time I have been upon it has been but little, and my Leisure less, I have all along strove rather to make the Thoughts Explicite, than the Poem Correct. However, I have mended some Faults in this Edition, and the rest must be plac'd to my Account.

As to Answers, Banters, True English Billinsgate, I expect them till no Body will buy, and then the Shop will be shut. Had I wrote it for the Gain of the Press, I should have been concern'd at its being Printed again and again, by Pyrates, as they call them, and Paragraph-Men: But would They but do it Justice, and Print it True, according to the Copy, they are welcome to Sell it for a Penny, if they Please.

The Pence indeed is the End of their Works. I'll engage, if no body will Buy, no body will Write: And not a Patriot-Poet of them all, now will in Defence of his Native Country, which I have abus'd, they say, Print an Answer to it, and give it about for Gods-sake.

THE PREFACE.

THE End of Satyr is Reformation: And the Author, tho' he doubts the Work of Conversion is at a General Stop, has put his Hand to the Plow.

I expect a Storm of Ill-Language from the Fury of the Town, and especially from those whose English Talent it is to Rail: And without being taken for a Conjurer, I may venture to foretell, That I shall be Cavil'd at about my Mean Stile, Rough Verse, and Incorrect Language; things I might indeed have taken more Care in; But the Book is Printed; and tho' I see some Faults, 'tis too late to mend them: And this is all I think needful to say to them.

Possibly some body may take me for a Dutchman, in which they are mistaken: But I am one that would be glad to see Englishmen behave themselves better to Strangers, and to Governours also; that one might not be reproach'd in Foreign Countries for belonging to a Nation that wants Manners.

I assure you, Gentlemen, Strangers use us better Abroad; and we can give no reason but our Ill-Nature for the contrary here.

Methinks an Englishman, who is so Proud of being call'd A Goodfellow, shou'd be Civil: And it cannot be deny'd but we are in many Cases, and particularly to Strangers, the Churlishest People alive.

As to Vices, who can dispute our Intemperance, while an Honest Drunken Fellow is a Character in a Mans Praise? All our Reformations are Banters, and will be so, till our Magistrates and Gentry Reform themselves by way of Example; then, and not till then, they may be expected to Punish others without Blushing.

As to our Ingratitude, I desire to be understood of that particular People, who pretending to be Protestants, have all along endeavour'd to reduce the Liberties and Religion of this Nation into the Hands of King James and his Popish Powers: Together, with such who enjoy the Peace and Protection of the present Government, and yet abuse and affront the King, who procur'd it, and openly profess their Uneasiness under him: These, by whatsoever Names or Titles they are dignified, or distinguish'd, are the People aim'd at: Nor do I disown, but that it is so much the Temper of an Englishman to abuse his Benefactor, that I could be glad to see it rectified.

They who think I have been Guilty of any Error, in exposing the Crimes of my own Countrymen to themselves, may among many honest Instances of the like Nature, find the same thing in Mr. Cowely, in his Imitation of the second Olympick Ode of Pindar: His Words are these,

But in this Thankless World, the Givers

Are Envy'd even by th' Receivers:

'Tis now the Cheap and Frugal Fashion,

Rather to hide than pay an Obligation.

Nay, 'tis much worse than so;

It now an Artifice doth grow,

Wrongs and Outrages to do,

Lest Men should think we Owe.

The Introduction.

SPeak, Satyr; for there's none can tell like thee,

Whether 'tis Folly, Pride, or Knavery,

That makes this Discontented Land appear

Less Happy now in Times of Peace, than War?

Why Civil Feuds disturb the Nation more

Than all our Bloody Wars have done before?

Fools out of Favour Grudge at Knaves in Place,

And Men are always Honest in Disgrace:

The Court Preferments make Men Knaves in course:

But they which wou'd be in them, wou'd be worse.

'Tis not at Foreigners that we repine,

Wou'd Foreigners their Perquisites resign:

The Grand Contention's plainly to be seen,

To get some Men put out, and some put in.

For this our S—rs make long Harangues,

And florid M—rs whet their polish'd Tongues.

Statesmen are always sick of one Disease;

And a good Pension gives them present Ease.

That's the Specifick makes them all Content

With any King, and any Government.

Good Patriots at Court-Abuses rail;

And all the Nation's Grievances bewail:

But when the Sov'reign Balsam's once apply'd,

The Zealot never fails to change his Side.

And when he must the Golden Key resign,

The Railing Spirit comes about again.

Who shall this Bubbl'd Nation disabuse,

While they their own Felicities refuse?

Who at the Wars have made such mighty Pother,

And now are falling out with one another:

With needless Fears the Jealous Nation fill,

And always have been sav'd against their Will:

Who Fifty Millions Sterling have disburs'd,

To be with Peace and too much Plenty Curs'd.

Who their Old Monarch eagerly undo,

And yet uneasily Obey the New.

Search, Satyr, search; a deep Incision make;

The Poyson's strong, the Antidote's too weak.

'Tis pointed Truth must manage this Dispute,

And down-right English, Englishmen Confute.

Whet thy just Anger at the Nation's Pride;

And with keen Phrase repel the Vicious Tide.

To Englishmen their own beginnings show,

And ask them why they slight their Neighbours so.

Go back to elder Times, and Ages past,

And Nations into long Oblivion cast;

To old Britannia's Youthful Days retire,

And there for True-Born Englishmen enquire.

Britannia freely will disown the Name,

And hardly knows, her self, from whence they came:

Wonders that They of all Men shou'd pretend

To Birth and Blood, and for a Name contend.

Go back to Causes where our Follies dwell,

And fetch the dark Original from Hell:

Speak, Satyr, for there's none like thee can tell.

The True-Born Englishman. PART I.

WHere-ever God erects a House of Prayer,

The Devil always builds a Chappel there:

And 'twill be found upon Examination,

The latter has the largest Congregation:

For ever since he first Debauch'd the Mind,

He made a perfect Conquest of Mankind.

With Uniformity of Service, he

Reigns with a general Aristocracy.

No Nonconforming Sects disturb his Reign,

For of his Yoak there's very few Complain.

He knows the Genius and the Inclinaton,

And matches proper Sins for ev'ry Nation,

He needs no Standing-Army Government;

He always Rules us by our own Consent:

His Laws are easie, and his gentle Sway

Makes it exceeding pleasant to Obey.

The List of his Vice-gerents and Commanders,

Out-does your Caesars, or your Alexanders.

They never fail of his infernal Aid,

And he's as certain ne'er to be betray'd.

Thro' all the World they spread his vast Command,

And Death's Eternal Empire is maintain'd.

They rule so Politickly and so well,

As if they were L— J— of Hell.

Duly divided to Debauch Mankind,

And plant Infernal Dictates in his Mind.

Pride, the first Peer, and President of Hell,

To his share Spain, the largest Province, fell.

The subtile Prince thought fittest to bestow

On these the Golden Mines of Mexico;

With all the Silver Mountains of Peru;

Wealth which would in wise Hands the World undo:

Because he knew their Genius was such;

Too Lazy and too Haughty to be Rich.

So proud a People, so above their Fate,

That if reduc'd to beg, they'll beg in State.

Lavish of Money, to be counted Brave,

And Proudly Starve, because they Scorn to Save.

Never was Nation in the World before,

So very Rich, and yet so very Poor.

Lust chose the Torrid Zone of Italy,

Where Blood ferments in Rapes and Sodomy:

Where swelling Veins o'erflow with liquid Streams,

With Heat impregnate from Vesuvian Flames:

Whose flowing Sulphur forms Infernal Lakes,

And humane Body of the Soil partakes,

There Nature ever burns with hot Desires,

Fann'd with Luxuriant Air from Subterranean Fires:

Here undisturb'd in Floods of scalding Lust,

Th' Infernal King Reigns with Infernal Gust.

Drunk'nness, the Darling Favourite of Hell,

Chose Germany to Rule; and Rules so well,

No Subjects more obsequiously Obey,

None Please so well, or are so Pleas'd as They.

The cunning Artist manages so well,

He lets them Bow to Heav'n, and Drink to Hell.

If but to Wine and Him they Homage pay,

He cares not to what Deity they Pray,

What God they Worship most, or in what way.

Whether by Luther, Calvin, or by Rome,

They sail for Heav'n; by Wine he Steers them home.

Ungovern'd Passion settled first in France,

Where Mankind Lives in haste, and Thrives by chance,

A Dancing Nation, Fickle and Untrue;

Have oft undone themselves, and others too:

Prompt the infernal Dictates to Obey,

And in Hell's Favour none more great than they.

The Pagan World he blindly leads away,

And Personally Rules with Arbitrary Sway:

The Mask thrown off, Plain Devil his Title stands;

And what elsewhere he Tempts, he there Commands.

There with full Gust th' Ambition of his Mind

Governs, as he of old in Heav'n design'd.

Worship'd as God, his Painim Altars smoak

Embru'd with Blood of those that him Invoke,

The rest by Deputies he Rules as well,

And plants the distant Colonies of Hell.

By them his secret Power he maintains,

And binds the World in his Infernal Chains.

By Zeal the Irish; and the Rush by Folly:

Fury the Dane: The Swede by Melancholly:

By stupid Ignorance, the Muscovite:

The Chinese by a Child of Hell, call'd Wit;

Wealth makes the Persian too Effeminate:

And Poverty, the Tartars Desperate:

The Turks and Moors by Mah'met he subdues;

And God has giv'n him leave to Rule the Jews:

Rage rules the Portuguese, and Fraud the Scotch:

Revenge the Pole; and Avarice the Dutch.

Satyr be kind, and draw a Silent Veil,

Thy Native England's Vices to conceal:

Or if that Task's impossible to do,

At least be Just, and show her Virtues too:

Too Great the first, Alas! the last too Few.

England unknown as yet, unpeopled lay;

Happy, had she remain'd so to this day,

And not to ev'ry Nation been a Prey.

Her Open Harbours, and her Fertile Plains,

(The Merchants Glory those, and these the Swains,)

To ev'ry Barbarous Nation have betray'd her,

Who Conquer her as oft as they Invade her,

So Beauty's Guarded but by Innocence,

That Ruins her, which should be her Defence.

Ingratituds, a Devil of Black Renown,

Possess'd her very early for his own.

An Ugly, Surly, Sullen, Selfish Spirit,

Who Satan's worst Perfections does inherit:

Second to him in Malice and in Force,

All Devil without, and all within him worse.

He made her First-Born Race to be so Rude,

And suffer'd her so oft to be subdu'd:

By sev'ral Crowds of wand'ring Thieves o'er-run,

Often unpeopl'd, and as oft undone.

While ev'ry Nation that her Powers reduc'd,

Their Languages and Manners introduc'd.

From whose mix'd Relicks our compounded Breed,

By Spurious Generation does succeed;

Making a Race uncertain and unev'n,

Deriv'd from all the Nations under Heav'n.

The Romans first with Julius Caesar came,

Including all the Nations of that Name,

Gauls, Greeks, and Lombards; and by computation,

Auxiliaries, or Slaves of ev'ry Nation.

With Hengist, Saxons; Danes with Sueno came,

In search of Plunder, not in search of Fame.

Scots, Picts, and Irish from th' Hibernian Shore,

And Conqu'ring William brought the Normans o'er.

All these their Barb'rous Off-spring left behind,

The Dregs of Armies, they of all Mankind;

Blended with Britains who before were here,

Of whom the Welsh ha' blest the Character.

From this Amphibious Ill-born Mob began

That vain ill-natur'd thing, an Englishman.

The Customs, Sir-names, Languages, and Manners,

Of all these Nations are their own Explainers:

Whose Reliks are so lasting and so strong,

They ha' left a Shiboleth upon our Tongue;

By which with easie search you may distinguish

Your Roman-Saxon-Danish Norman English.

The great Invading
W. the Conq.

Norman let us know

What Conquerours in After-Times might do.

To ev'ry
Or Archer

Musqueteer he brought to Town,

He gave the Lands which never were his own.

When first the English Crown he did obtain,

He did not send his Dutchmen back again.

No Reassumptions in his Reign were known,

D' Avenant might there ha' let his Book alone.

No Parliament his Army cou'd disband;

Hee rais'd no Money, for he pay'd in Land.

He gave his Legions their Eternal Station,

And made them all Freeholders of the Nation.

He Canton'd out the Country to his Men,

And ev'ry Soldier was a Denizen.

The Rascals thus Enrich'd he call'd them Lords,

To please their upstart Pride with new made words,

And Doomsday Book his Tyranny Records.

And here begins our Ancient Pedigree,

That so exalts our poor Nobility:

'Tis that from some French Trooper they derive,

Who with the Norman Bastard did arrive;

The Trophies of the Families appear;

Some show the Sword, the Bow, and some the Spear,

Which their great Ancestor, forsooth, did wear.

These in the Heralds Register remain,

Their Noble Mean Extraction to explain,

Yet who the Heroe was, no Man can tell,

Whether a Drummer or a Colonel:

The silent Record Blushes to reveal

Their Undescended Dark Original.

But grant the best, How came the change to pass,

A True Born Englishman of Norman Race?

A Turkish Horse can show more History,

To prove his Well-descended Family.

Conquest, as by the
Dr Sherl, de facto.

Moderns 'tis exprest,

May give a Title to the Lands possest:

But that the longest Sword shou'd be so civil,

To make a Frenchman English, that's the Devil.

These are the Heroes that despise the Dutch,

And rail at new-come Foreigners so much;

Forgetting that themselves are all deriv'd

From the most Scoundrel Race that ever liv'd;

A horrid Crowd of Rambling Thieves and Drones,

Who ransack'd Kingdoms, and dispeopl'd Towns.

The Pict and Painted Britain, Treacherous Scot,

By Hunger, Theft, and Rapine hither brought.

Norwegian Pirates, Buccaneering Danes,

Whose Red-Hair'd Off-spring ev'ry where remains.

Who join'd with Norman-French compound the Breed,

From whence your True-Born Englishmen proceed.

And left by Length of time it be pretended,

The Climates may this Modern Breed ha' mended;

Wise Providence to keep us where we are,

Mixes us daily with exceeding care:

We have been Europes' sink, the Jakes where she,

Voids all her Offal Out-cast Progeny.

From Henry's time, the Strolling Bands

Of banish'd Fugitives from Neighb'ring Lands,

Have here a certain Sanctuary found:

The Eternal Refuge of the Vagabond.

Where in but half a common Age of Time,

Borr'wing new Blood and Manners from the Clime,

Proudly they learn all Mankind to contemn,

And all their Race are True-Born Englishmen.

Dutch, Walloons, Flemmings, Irishmen and Scots,

Vaudois and Voltolins, and Hugonots,

In good Queen Bess's Charitable Reign,

Supply'd us with three hundred thousand Men.

Religion, God we thank thee, sent them hither,

Priests, Protestants, the Devil and all together:

Of all Professions, and of ev'ry Trade,

All that were perfecuted or afraid;

Whether for Debt, or other Crimes they fled,

David at Hackelah was still their Head.

The Off-spring of this Miscellaneous Crowd,

Had not their new Plantations long enjoy'd,

But they grew Englishmen, and rais'd their Votes

At Foreign Shoals for Interloping Scots.

The
K. J. I.

Royal Branch from Pict-land did succeed,

With Troops of Scots and Scabs from North-by-Tweed.

The Seven first Years of his Pacifick Reign,

Made him and half his Nation Englishmen.

Scots from the Northern Frozen Banks of Tay,

With Packs and Plods came Whigging all away:

Thick as the Locusts which in Aegypt swarm'd,

With Pride and hungry Hopes compleatly arm'd:

With Native Truth, Diseases, and no Money,

Plunder'd our Canaan of the Milk and Honey.

Here they grew quickly Lords and Gentlemen,

And all their Race are True-Born-Englishmen.

The Civil Wars, the common Purgative,

Which always use to make the Nation thrive,

Made way for all that strolling Congregation,

Which throng'd in Pious Ch—s's Restoration. K: C: II.

The Royal Refugee our Breed restores,

With Foreign Courtiers, and with Foreign Whores:

And carefully repeopled us again,

Throughout his Lazy, Long, Lascivious Reign;

With such a blest and True-born English Fry,

As much Illustrates our Nobility.

A Gratitude which will so black appear,

As future Ages must abhor to hear:

When they look back on all that Crimson Flood,

Which stream'd in Lindsey's, and Caernarvon's Blood:

Bold Strafford, Cambridge, Capel, Lucas, Lisle,

Who crown'd in Death his Father's Fun'ral Pile.

The Loss of whom, in order to supply,

With True-Born-English N—ty,

Six Bastard Dukes survive his Luscious Reign,

The Labours of Italian C—n,

French, P—b, Tabby S—t, and Cambrian.

Besides the Num'rous Bright and Virgin Throng,

Whose Female Glories shade them from my Song.

This Off-spring, if one Age they multiply,

May half the House with English Peers supply:

There with true English Pride they may contemn

S—g and P—d, new-made Noblemen.

Fench Cooks, Scotch Pedlars, and Italian Whores,

Were all made L—ds, or L—ds Progenitors.

Beggars and Bastards by his new Creation,

Much multiply'd the P—ge of the Nation;

Who will be all, e'er one short Age runs o'er,

As True-Born L—ds as those we had before.

Then to recruit the Commons he prepares,

And heal the Latent Breaches of the Wars;

The Pious Purpose better to advance,

H' invites the banish'd Protestants of France:

Hither for God-sake and their own they fled,

Some for Religion came, and some for Bread;

Two hundred thousand pair of Wooden Shooes,

Who God be thank'd had nothing left to lose;

To Heav'ns great Praise did for Religion fly,

To make us Starve our Poor in Charity.

In ev'ry Port they plant their Fruitful Train,

To get a Race of True-Born Englishmen:

Whose Children will when riper Years they see,

Be as Ill-Natur'd, and as Proud as we:

Call themselves English, Foreigners despise,

Be Surly like us all, and just as Wise.

Thus from a mixture of all kinds began,

That Het'rogeneous Thing, An Englishman:

In eager Rapes, and furious Lust begot,

Betwixt a Painted Britain, and a Scot:

Whose gend'ring Off-spring quickly learn'd to Bow,

And yoke their Heifers to the Roman Plow:

From whence a Mongrel half-bred Race there came,

With neither Name nor Nation, Speech nor Fame.

In whose hot Veins new Mixtures quickly ran,

Infus'd betwixt a Saxon and a Dane.

While their Rank Daughters to their Parents just,

Receiv'd all Nations with promiscuous Lust.

This Nauseous Brood directly did contain,

The well extracted Brood of Englishmen.

Which Medly canton'd in a Heptarchy,

A Rhapsody of Nations to supply,

Among themselves maintain'd eternal Wars,

And still the Ladies Lov'd the Conquerors.

The Western Angles all the rest subdu'd;

A bloody Nation, barbarous and rude:

Who by the Tenure of the Sword possest

One part of Britain, and subdu'd the rest.

And as great Things denominate the small,

The Conqu'ring part gave Title to the whole,

The Scot, Pict, Britain, Roman, Dane, submit,

And with the English-Saxon all Unite:

And these the Mixtures have so close pursu'd,

The very Name and Memory's subdu'd:

No Roman now, no Britain does remain,

Wales strove to separate, but strove in vain:

The silent Nations undistinguish'd fall,

And Englishman's the common Name of all.

Fate jumbl'd them together, God knows how;

What e'er they were, they're True-Born English now.

The wonder which remains is at our Pride,

To value that which all Men else deride.

For Englishmen to boast of Generation,

Cancels their Knowledge, and Lampoons the Nation.

A True-Born Englishman's a contradiction,

In Speech an Irony, in Fact a Fiction.

A Banter made to be a test to Fools,

Which those, that use it, justly ridicules.

A Metaphor invented to express,

A Man a-kin to all the Universe.

For as the Scots as Learned Men ha' said,

Throughout the world their wand'ring Seed ha' spread;

So open-handed England, 'tis believ'd

Has all the Gleanings of the World receiv'd.

Some think of England 'twas our Saviour meant,

The Gospel should to all the World be sent:

Since, when the Blessed Sound did hither reach.

They to all Nations might be said to Preach.

'Tis well that Virtue gives Noblity,

How shall we else the want of Birth and Blood supply?

Since scarce one Family is left alive,

Which does not from some Foreigner derive.

Of sixty thousand English Gentlemen,

Whose Name and Arms in Registers remain,

We challenge all our Heralds to declare,

Ten Families which English-Saxons are.

France justly owns the Antient Noble Line,

Of Bourbon, Mommorency and Lorrain.

The Germans too their House of Austria show,

And Holland their Invincible Nassau.

Lines which in Heraldry were Antient grown,

Before the Name of Englishman was known.

Even Scotland too, Her Elder Glory shows.

Her Gourdons, Hamiltons, and her Monroes;

Dowglas, Mackays, and Grahams, Names well known,

Long before Ancient England knew her own.

But England Modern to the last degree,

Borrows or makes her own Nobility,

And yet she boldly boasts of Pedigree.

Repines that Foreigners are put upon her,

And talks of her Antiquity and Honour:

Her S—lls, S—ls, C—ls, De— M—rs,

M—ns, and M—ues, D—s and V—rs,

Not one have English Names, yet all are English Peers

Your H—ns, P—llons, and L—liers,

Pass now for True-Born English Knights and Squires,

And make good Senate-Members, or Lord-Mayors.

Wealth, howsoever got, in England makes

Lords of Mechanicks, Gentlemen of Rakes:

Antiquity and Birth are needless here;

'Tis Impudence and Money makes a P—r.

Innumerable City-Knights we know,

From Blewcoat-Hospital and Bridewell flow.

Draymen and Porters fill the City Chair,

And Foot-Boys Magisterial Purple wear.

Fate has but very small Distinction set

Betwixt the Counter and the Coronet.

Tarpaulin L—ds, Pages of high Renown,

Rise up by Poor Mens Valour, not their own.

Great Families of yesterday we show,

And Lords, whose Parents were the Lord knows who.

The True-Born Englishman. PART II.

THE Breed's describ'd: Now, Satyr, if you can,

Their Temper show, for Manner make the Man.

Fierce, as the Britain; as the Roman, Brave;

And less inclin'd to Conquer, than to Save:

Eager to Fight, and lavish of their Blood;

And equally of Fear and Forecast void.

The Pict has made 'em Sowre, the Dane Morose:

False from the Scot, and from the Norman worse.

What Honesty they have, the Saxons gave them,

And That, now they grow old, begins to leave them.

The Climate makes them Terrible and Bold;

And English Beef their Courage does uphold:

No Danger can their Daring Spirit pall,

Always provided that their Belly's full.

In close Intrigues their Faculty's but weak,

For gen'rally whate'er they know, they speak:

And often their own Councils undermine,

By their Infirmity, and not Design;

From whence the Learned say it does proceed,

That English Treasons never can succeed:

For they're so open-hearted, you may know

Their own most secret Thoughts, and others too.

The Lab'ring Poor, in spight of Double Pay,

Are Sawcy▪ Mutinous, and Beggarly:

So lavish of their Money and their Time,

That want of Forecast is the Nation's Crime.

Good Drunken Company is their Delight;

And what they get by Day, they spend by Night.

Dull Thinking seldom does their Heads engage,

But Drink their Youth away, and Hurry on Old Age.

Empty of all good Husbandry and Sense;

And void of Manners most, when void of Pence.

Their strong Aversion to Behaviour's such,

They always talk too little, or too much.

So dull, they never take the pains to think:

And seldom are good-natur'd, but in Drink:

In English Ale their dear Enjoyment lies,

For which they'll starve themselves and Families.

An Englishman will fairly Drink as much

As will maintain two Families of Dutch:

Subjecting all their Labour to their Pots;

The greatest Artists are the greatest Sots.

The Country poor do by Example live,

The Gentry lead them, and the Clergy drive;

What may we not from such Examples hope?

The Landlord is their God, the Priest their Pope.

A Drunken Clergy, and a Swearing Bench,

Has giv'n the Reformation such a Drench,

As wise Men think there is some cause to doubt.

Will Purge good Manners and Religion out.

Nor do the Poor alone their Liquor prize,

The Sages join in this great Sacrifice.

The Learned Men who study Aristotle,

Correct him with an Explanation Bottle;

Praise Epicurus rather than Lysander,

And
The Drunkards Name for Canary

Aristippus more than Alexander.

The Doctors too their Galen here resign,

And gen'rally prescribe Specifick Wine.

The Graduates Study's grown an 'easier Task,

While for the Ʋrinal they toss the Flask.

The Surgeon's Art grows plainer ev'ry Hour,

And Wine's the Balm which into Wounds they pour.

Poets long since Parnassus have forsaken,

And say the ancient Bards were all mistaken.

Apollo's lately Abdicate and fled,

And good King Bacchus governs in his stead;

He does the Chaos of the Head refine,

And Atom-Thoughts jump into Words by Wine:

The Inspirations of a finer Nature:

As Wine must needs excel Parnassus Water.

Statesmen their weighty Politicks refine,

And Soldiers raise their Courages by Wine,

Caecilia gives her Choristers their Choice,

And lets them all drink Wine to clear their Voice.

Some think the Clergy first found out the way,

And Wine's the only Spirit by which they Pray.

But others, less prophane than so, agree,

It clears the Lungs, and helps the Memory.

And therefore all of them Divinely think,

Instead of Study, 'tis as well to Drink.

And here I would be very glad to know,

Whether our Asgilites may Drink or no.

Th' enlightning Fumes of Wine would certainly,

Assist them much when they begin to fly:

Or if a Fiery Chariot shou'd appear,

Inflam'd by Wine, they'd ha' the less to fear.

Even the Gods themselves, as Mortals say,

Were they on Earth, wou'd be as Drunk as they:

Nectar would be no more Celestial Drink,

They'd all take Wine, to teach them how to think.

But English Drunkards, Gods and Men out do,

Drink their Estates away, and Money too.

Colon's in Debt, and if his Friends should fail

To help him out, must Die at last in Goal:

His Wealthy Ʋncle sent a Hundred Nobles,

To pay his trifles off, and rid him of his troubles:

But Colon like a True-Born Englishman,

Drank all the Money out in Bright Champaign;

And Colon does in Custody remain.

Drunk'ness has been the Darling of this Realm,

E'er since a Drunken Pilot had the Helm.

In their Religion they are so uneven,

That each Man goes his own By-way to Heaven.

Tenacious of mistakes to that Degree,

That ev'ry Man pursues it sep'rately,

And fancies none can find the way but he:

So shy of one another they are grown,

As if they strove to get to Heav'n alone:

Rigid and Zealous, Positive and Grave.

And ev'ry Grace, but Charity, they have:

This makes them so Ill-natur'd and uncivil,

That all Men think an Englishman the Devil.

Surly to Strangers, Froward to their Friend;

Submit to Love with a reluctant Mind;

Resolv'd to be Ungrateful and Unkind.

If by Necessity reduc'd to ask,

The Giver has the difficultest task:

For what's bestow'd they awkwardly receive.

And always take less freely than they give.

The Obligation is their Highest Grief;

And never Love, where they accept Relief.

So sullen in their Sorrow, that 'tis known,

They'll rather die than their Afflictions own:

And if reliev'd, it is too often true,

That they'll abuse their Benefactors too:

For in Distress, their Haughty Stomach's such,

They hate to see themselves oblig'd too much.

Seldom contented, often in the Wrong;

Hard to be Pleas'd at all, and never long.

If your Mistakes their Ill-Opinion gain,

No Merit can their Favour re-obtain:

And if they're not Vindictive in their Fury,

'Tis their Unconstant Temper does secure-ye;

Their Brains so cool, their Passion seldom burns:

For all's condens'd before the Flame returns:

The Fermentation's of so weak a Matter,

The Humid damps the fume, and runs it all to Water.

So tho' the Inclination may be strong,

They're Pleas'd by fits, and never Angry long.

Then if Good Nature shows some slender Proof,

They never think they have Reward enough:

But like our Modern Quakers of the Town,

Expect your Manners, and return you none.

Friendship, th' abstracted Union of the Mind,

Which all Men seek, but very few can find:

Of all the Nations in the Universe,

None Talk on't more, or Understand it less:

For if it does their Property annoy,

Their Property their Friendship will destroy.

As you discourse them, you shall hear them tell

All things in which they think they do excel:

No Panegyrick needs their Praise record;

An Englishman ne'er wants his own good Word.

His long Discourses gen'rally appear

Prologu'd with his own wond'rous Character:

But first to illustrate his own good Name,

He never fails his Neighbour to defame:

And yet he really designs no wrong;

His Malice goes no further than his Tongue.

But pleas'd to Tattle, he Delights to Rail,

To satisfie the Letch'ry of a Tale.

His own dear Praises close the ample Speech,

Tells you how Wise he is; that is, how Rich:

For Wealth is Wisdom; he that's Rich is Wise;

And all Men Learned Poverty Despise.

His Generosity comes next, and then

Concludes that he's a True-Born-Englishman;

And they 'tis known, are Generous and Free,

Forgetting, and Forgiving Injury:

Which may be true, thus rightly understood,

Forgiving Ill turns, and Forgetting Good.

Chearful in Labour when they've undertook it,

But out of Humour, when they're out of Pocket.

But if their Belly and their Pocket's full,

They may be Phlegmatick, but never Dull:

And if a Bottle does their Brains refine,

It makes their Wits as sparkling as their Wine.

As for the general Vices which we find

They're guilty of, in common with Mankind,

Satyr, forbear, and silently endure;

We must conceal the Crimes we cannot cure.

Nor shall my Verse the brighter Sex defame;

For English Beauty will preserve her Name,

Beyond dispute, Agreeable and Fair;

And Modester than other Nations are:

For where the Vice prevails, the great Temptation

Is want of Money, more than Inclination.

In general, this only is allow'd,

They're something Noisy, and a little Proud.

An Englishman is gentlest in Command,

Obedience is a Stranger in the Land:

Hardly subjected to the Magistrate;

For Englishmen do all Subjection hate.

Humblest when Rich, but Peevish when they're Poor:

And think what-e'er they have, they merit more.

The meanest English Plow-man studies Law,

And keeps thereby the Magistrates in Awe;

Will boldly tell them what they have to do,

And sometimes punish their Omissions too.

Their Liberty and Properties so dear,

They Scorn their Laws or Governours to fear:

So Bugbear'd with the Name of Slavery,

They can't submit to their own Liberty.

Restraint from ill, is Freedom to the Wise;

But Englishmen do all Restraint Despise.

Slaves to their Liquor, Drudges to the Pots,

The Mob are Statesmen, and their Statesmen Sots.

Their Governors they count such dangerous things,

That 'tis their Custom to affront their Kings:

So jealous of the Power their Kings possess'd,

They suffer neither Power nor King to rest.

The Bad with Force they easily subdue:

The Good with constant Clamours they pursue:

And did King Jesus Reign they'd murmur too.

A discontented Nation, and by far

Harder to Rule in times of Peace than War:

Easily set together by the Ears,

And full of causeless Jealousies and Fears:

Apt to Revolt, and willing to Rebel,

And never are contented when they're well.

No Government cou'd ever please them long,

Cou'd Tye their Hands, or rectifie their Tongue.

In this to Ancient Israel well compar'd,

Eternal Murmurs are among them heard.

It was but lately that they were opprest,

Their Rights Invaded, and their Laws supprest:

When nicely tender of their Liberty,

Lord! What a Noise they made of Slavery.

In Daily, Tumult show'd their Discontent,

Lampoon'd the King, and mock'd his Government:

And if in Arms they did not first appear,

'Twas want of Force, and not for want of Fear.

In humbler Tone than English us'd to do,

At Foreign Hands, for Foreign Aid they sue.

William, the Great Successor of Nassau,

Their Prayers heard, and their Oppressions saw:

He saw and sav'd them: God and Him they Prais'd;

To this their Thanks, to that their Trophies rais'd.

But glutted with their own Felicities,

They soon their New Deliverer Despise;

Say all their Prayers-back, their Joy disown,

Unsing their Thanks, and pull their Trophies down:

Their Harps of Praise are on the Willows hung;

For Englishmen are ne'er Contented long.

The Rev'rend Clergy too! And who wou'd ha' thought

That they who had such Non-Resistance Taught,

Should e'er to Arms against their Prince be brought?

Who up to Heaven did Regal Pow'er advance;

Subjecting English Laws to Modes of France.

Twisting Religion so with Loyalty,

As one cou'd never Live, and t'other Die.

And yet no sooner did their Prince design

Their Glebes and Perquisites to undermine,

But all their Passive Doctrines lay'd aside;

The Clergy their own Principles deny'd:

Unpreach'd their Non-resisting Cant, and Pray'd

To Heaven for Help, and to the Dutch for Aid.

The Church chim'd all her Doctrines back again,

And Pulpit Champions did the Cause maintain;

Flew in the Face of all their former Zeal,

And Non-Resistance did at once repeal.

The Rabbies say it would be too prolix,

To tye Religion up to Politicks:

The Churches Safety is Suprema Lex.

And so by a new Figure of their own,

Their former Doctrines all at once disown.

As Laws Post Facto in the Parliament,

In urgent Cases have obtain'd Assent;

But are as dangerous Presidents lay'd by;

Made Lawful only by Necessity.

The Rev'rend Fathers then in Arms appear,

And Men of God become the Men of War.

The Nation, Fir'd by them, to Arms apply;

Assault their Antichristian Monarchy;

To their due Channel all our Laws restore,

And made things what they shou'd ha' been before.

But when they came to fill the Vacant Throne,

And the Pale Priests look'd back on what they'd done;

How English Liberty began to thrive,

And Church of England Loyalty out-live:

How all their persecuting Days were done,

And their Deliv'rer plac'd upon the Throne:

The Priests, as Priests are wont to do, turn'd Tail;

They're Englishmen, and Nature will prevail.

Now they deplore the Ruins they ha' made,

And murmur for the Master they betray'd.

Excuse those Crimes they cou'd not make him mend;

And suffer for the Cause they cann't defend.

Pretend they'd not have carry'd things so high;

And Proto-Martyrs make for Popery.

Had the Prince done as they design'd the thing,

Ha' set the Clergy up to Rule the King;

Taken a Donative for coming hither,

And so ha' left their King and them together,

We had, say they, been now a happy Nation.

No doubt we had seen a Blessed Reformation:

For Wise Men say 'tis as dang'rous a thing,

A Ruling Priest-hood, as a Priest-rid King.

And of all Plagues with which Mankind are Curst,

Ecclesiastick Tyranny's the Worst.

If all our former Grievances were feign'd,

King James has been abus'd, and we Trapann'd;

Bugbear'd with Popery and Power Despotick,

Tyrannick Government, and Leagues Exotick:

The Revolution's a Phanatick Plot,

W— a Tyrant, S— a Sot:

A Factious Army, and a Poyson'd Nation,

Unjustly forc'd King James's Abdication.

But if he did the Subjects Rights invade,

Then he was Punish'd only, not betray'd;

And Punishing of Kings is no such Crime,

But Englishmen ha' done it many a Time.

When Kings, the Sword of Justice first lay down,

They are no Kings, tho' they posses the Crown:

Titles are Shadows, Crowns are empty things,

The Good of Subjects is the End of Kings;

To guide in War, and to protect in Peace;

Where Tyrants once commence, the Kings do cease:

For Arbitrary Power's so strange a thing,

It makes the Tyrant, and unmakes the King.

If Kings by Foreign Priests and Armies Regin,

And Lawless Power against their Oaths Maintain,

Then Subjects must ha' reason to Complain.

If Oaths must bind us when our Kings do Ill;

To call in Foreign Aid is to Rebel.

By force to Circumscribe our Lawful Prince,

Is willful Treason in the largest Sense:

And they who once Rebel, most certainly

Their God, and King, and former Oaths defie.

If we allow no Male-Administration

Could cancel the Allegiance of the Nation;

Let all our Learned Sons of Levi try,

This Eccles'astick Riddle to unty:

How they could make a Step to Call the Prince,

And yet pretend to Oaths and Innocence?

By th' first Address they made beyond the Seas,

They're Perjur'd in the most intense Degrees;

And without Scruple for the time to come,

May Swear to all the Kings in Christendom.

And truly did our Kings consider all,

They'd never let the Clergy Swear at all:

Their Politick Allegiance they'd refuse,

For Whores and Priests do never want Excuse.

But if the Mutual Contract was dissolv'd,

The Doubt's explain'd, the difficultys 'solv'd:

That Kings when they Descend to Tyranny,

Dissolve the Bond, and leave the Subject free.

The Governments ungirt, when Justice dies,

And Constitutions are non-Entities.

The Nations all a Mob, there's no such thing

As Lords or Commons, Parliament or King.

A great promiscuous Crowd the Hydra lies,

Till Laws revive, and Mutual Contract ties:

A Chaos free to chuse for their own share,

What Case of Government they please to wear:

If to a King they do the Reins commit,

All Men are bound in Conscience to submit:

But then that King must by his Oath assent

To Postulata's of the Government;

Which if he breaks, he cuts off the Entail,

And Power retreats to its Original.

This Doctrine has the Sanction of Assent,

From Nature's Universal Parliament.

The Voice of Nature, and the Course of Things,

Allow that Laws superiour are to Kings.

None but Delinquents would have Justice cease,

Knaves rail at Laws, as Soldiers rail at Peace:

For Justice is the End of Government,

As Reason is the Test of Argument.

No Man was ever yet so void of Sense,

As to Debate the Right of Self-Defence;

A Principle so grafted in the Mind,

With Nature born, and does like Nature bind:

Twisted with Reason and with Nature too;

As neither one or t'other can undo.

Nor can this Right be less when National;

Reason which governs one, shou'd govern all.

Whate'er the Dialects of Courts may tell,

He that his Right Demands, can ne'er Rebel.

Which Right if 'tis by Governours deny'd,

May be procur'd by Force or Foreign Aid.

For Tyranny's a Nation's Term of Grief;

As Folks cry Fire, to hasten in Relief.

And when the hated Word is heard about,

All Men shou'd come to help the People out.

Thus England groan'd, Britannia's Voice was heard;

And Great Nassau to rescue her appear'd:

Call'd by the Universal Voice of Fate;

God and the Peoples Legal Magistrate.

Ye Heav'ns regard! Almighty Jove, look down,

And view thy Injur'd Monarch on the Throne.

On their Ungrateful Heads due Vengeance take,

Who sought his Aid, and then his part forsake.

Witness, ye Powers! It was our Call alone,

Which now our Pride makes us asham'd to own.

Britannia's Troubles fetch'd him from afar,

To Court the dreadful Casualties of War:

But where Requital never can be made,

Acknowledgements a Tribute seldom pay'd.

He dwelt in Bright Maria's Circling Arms,

Defended by the Magick of her Charms,

From Foreign Fears, and from Domestick Harms.

Ambition found no Fuel to her Fire,

He had what God cou'd give, or Man desire.

Till Pity rowz'd him from his soft Repose:

His Life to unseen Hazards to expose:

Till Pity mov'd him in our Cause t' appear;

Pity! that Word which now we hate to hear.

But English Gratitude is always such,

To hate the Hand which does oblige to much.

Britannia's Cries gave Birth to his Intent,

And hardly gain'd his unforeseen Assent:

His boding Thoughts foretold him he should find

The People Fickle, Selfish and Unkind.

Which Thought did to his Royal Heart appear

More dreadful than the Dangers of the War:

For nothing grates a generous Mind so soon,

As base Returns for hearty Service done.

Satyr be silent, awsully prepare.

Britannia's Song, and William's Praise to hear.

Stand by, and let her chearfully rehearse

Her Grateful Vows in her Immortal Verse.

Loud Fames eternal Trumpet let her sound;

Listen ye distant Poles and endiess Round.

May the strong Blast the Welcome News convey

As for as Sound can reach, or Spirit can fly.

To Neighb'ring Worlds, if such there be, relate

Our Heroes Fame, for theirs to imitate.

To distant Worlds of Spirits let her rehearse:

For Spirits, without the help of Voice, Converse.

May Angels hear the gladsome News on high,

Mix'd with their everlasting Symphony.

And Hell it self stand in Suspence to know,

Whether it be the Fatal Blast or no.

BRITANNIA.

The Fame of Vertue 'tis for which I sound,

And Heroes with Immortal Triumphs Crown'd.

Fame Built on solid Vertue swifter flies,

Than Morning-Light can spread my Eastern Skies.

The gath'ring Air returns the doubling Sound,

And Loud Repeating Thunders force it round:

Eccboes return from Caverns of the Deep:

Old Chaos Dream't on't in Eternal Sleep:

Time hands it forward to its latest Ʋrn,

From whence it never, never shall return;

Nothing is heard so far, or lasts so long,

'Tis heard by ev'ry Ear, and spoke by ev'ry Tongue.

My Heroe with the Sails of Honour Furl'd,

Rises like the Great Genius of the World.

By Fate and Fame wisely prepar'd to be,

The Soul of War, and Life of Victory:

He spreads the Wings of Vertue on the Throne,

And ev'ry Wind of Glory fans them on.

Immortal Trophies dwell upon his Brow,

Fresh as the Garlands he has won but now.

By different Steps the high Ascent he gains,

And differently that high Ascent maintains.

Princes for Pride, and Lust of Rule, make War;

And struggle for the Name of Conqueror.

Some Fight for Fame, and some for Victory;

He Fights to Save, and Conquers to set Free.

Then seek Phrase his Titles to conceal,

And hide with Words what Actions must reveal.

No Parallel from Hebrew Stories take,

Of God-like Kings my Similies to make:

No borrow'd Names conceal my living Theam;

But Names and Things directly I Proclaim.

'Tis honest Merit does his Glory raise,

Whom that Exalt's let no Man fear to Praise:

Of such a Subject no Man need be shy;

Vertue's above the Reach of Flattery.

He needs no Character but his own Fame,

Nor any flatt'ring Titles, but his Name:

Willam's the Name that's spoke by ev'ry Tongue:

William's the Darling Subject of my Song.

Listen ye Virgins to the Charming Sound,

And in Eternal Dances hand it round:

Your Early Offerings to this Altar bring;

Make him at once a Lover and a King.

May he submit to none but to your Arms;

Nor never be subdu'd. but by your Charms.

May your soft thoughts for him be all Sublime;

And ev'ry tender Vow he made for him.

May he be first in ev'ry Morning-thought,

And Heav'n ne'er hear a Pray'r, when he's left out.

May ev'ry Omen, ev'ry Boding Dream,

Be Fortunate by mentioning his Name:

May this one Charm Infernal Power affright,

And guard you from the Terrors of the Night,

May every chearful Glass, as it goes down,

To William's Health, be Cordials to your own.

Let every Song be Chorust with his Name,

And Musick pay a Tribute to his Fame.

Let ev'ry Poet tune his Artful Verse,

And in Immortal Strains his Deeds rehearse.

And may Apollo never more inspire

The Disobedient Bard with his Seraphick Fire.

May all my Sons their Grateful Homage pay;

His Praises Sing, and for his Safety Pray.

Satyr return to our Unthankful Isle,

Secur'd by Heavens Regard, and Williams's Toil.

To both Ungrateful, and to both Untrue;

Rebels to God, and to Good Nature too.

If e'er this Nation be Distress'd again,

To whomsoe'er they cry, they'll cry in vain.

To Heav'n they cannot have the Face to look:

Or if they should, it wou'd but Heav'n provoke.

To hope for Help from Man wou'd be too much;

Mankind would always tell them of the Dutch:

How they came here our Freedoms to obtain,

Were Pay'd, and Curs'd, and Hurry'd home again.

How by their Aid we first dissolv'd our Fears,

And then our Helpers Damn'd, for Foreigners.

'Tis not our English temper to do better,

For Englishmen think every Man their Debtor.

'Tis worth observing that we ne'er complain'd

Of Foreigners, nor of the Wealth they gain'd,

Till all their Services were at an end.

Wise Men affirm, it is the English way,

Never to Grumble till they come to Pay;

And then they always think, their temper's such,

The Work too little, and the Pay too much.

As frighted Patients when they want a Cure,

Bid any Price, and any Pain endure:

But when the Doctors Remedies appear,

The Cure's too Easie, and the Price too Dear.

Great Portland ne'er was banter'd when he strove,

For Us his Master's kindest thoughts to move.

We ne'er Lampoon'd his Conduct, when employ'd

King James's Secret Councils to divide:

Then we caress'd him as the only Man,

Which could the doubtful Oracle explain:

The only Hushai able to repel

The dark Designs of our Achitopel.

Compar'd his Masters Courage to his Sense,

The Ablest Statesman, and the Bravest Prince.

On his wise Conduct we depended much,

And lik'd him ne'er the worse for being Dutch.

Nor was he valu'd more than he deserv'd,

Freely he ventur'd, faithfully he serv'd.

In all King William's Dangers he has shar'd:

In England's Quarrels always he appear'd:

The Revolution first, and then the Boyne,

In both his Counsels and his Conduct shine,

His Martial Valour Flanders will confess;

And France Regrets his managing the Peace.

Faithful to Englands Interest, and her King;

The greatest Reason of our murmuring.

Ten Years in English Service he appear'd,

And gain'd his Masters, and the Worlds Regard:

But 'tis not Englands Custom to Reward.

The Wars are over, England needs him not;

Now he's a Dutchman, and the Lord knows what.

Schombergh the Ablest Soldier of his Age,

With Great Nassau, did in our cause engage:

Both joyn'd for England's Rescue and Defence,

The greatest Captain, and the greatest Prince.

With what Applause his Stories did we tell!

Stories which Europe's Volumes largely swell.

We counted him an Army in our Aid:

Where He Commanded, no Man was afraid.

His Actions with a constant Conquest shine,

From Villa-Vitiosa to the Rhine.

France, Flanders, Germany, his Fame confess:

And all the World was fond of him, but Us.

Our Turn first serv'd, we grudg'd him the Command,

Witness the Grateful Temper of the Land,

We blame the K— that he relies too much

On Strangers, Germans, Hugonots, and Dutch;

And seldom does his great Affairs of State,

To English Counsellors communicate.

The Fact might very well be answer'd thus,

He has so often been betray'd by us,

He must have been a Mad-man to Rely

On English G—ns Fidelity.

For laying other Arguments aside,

This thought, might mortifie our English Pride,

That Foreigners have faithfully Obey'd him,

And none but Englishmen have e'er Betray'd him.

They have our Ships, and Merchants bought and sold,

And barter'd English Blood for Foreign Gold.

First to the French they sold our Turky-Fleer,

And Injur'd Talmarsh next, at Camaret.

The King himself is shelter'd from their Snares,

Not by his Merit, but the Crown he wears.

Experience tells us 'tis the English way,

Their Benefactors always to betray.

And least Examples should be too Remote,

A Modern Magistrate of Famous Note,

Shall give you his own Character by Rote.

I'll make it out, deny it he that can,

His Worship is a True-Born Englishman:

In all the Latitude of that empty Word,

By Modern Acceptations understood.

The Parish-Books his great Descent Record,

And now he hopes e're long to be a Lord.

And truly as things go, it would be pity

But such as he should Represent the City:

While Robb'ry for Burnt-Offering he brings,

And gives to God what he has stole from Kings:

Great Monuments of Charity he raises,

And good St. Magnus whistles out his Praises.

To City-Goals he grants a Jubilee.

And hires Huzza's from his own Mobilee.

Lately he wore the Golden Chain and Gown,

With which Equipt, he thus Harangu'd the Town.

His Fine Speech, &c.

With Clouted Iron Shooes, and Sheep-skin Breeches,

More Rags than Manners, and more Dirt than Riches:

From driving Cows and Calves to Layton-Market,

While of my Greatness there appear'd no Spark yer,

Behold I come, to let you see the Pride

With which Exalted Beggars always Ride.

Born to the Needful Labours of the Plow,

The Cart-Whip Grac'd me, as the Chain does now.

Nature and Fate in doubt what Course to take,

Whether I shou'd a Lord or Flough-Boy make;

Kindly at last resolv'd they wou'd promote me,

And first a Knave, and then a Knight, they Vote me.

What Fate appointed, Nature did prepare,

And furnish'd me with an exceeding Care.

To fit me for what they design'd to have me;

And ev'ry Gift, but Honesty, they gave me.

And thus Equipp'd, to this Proud Town I came,

In quest of Bread, and not in quest of Fame.

Blind to my future Fate, a humble Boy,

Free from the Guilt and Glory I enjoy.

The hopes which my Ambition entertain'd,

Were in the Name of Foot-Boy all contain'd.

The Greatest Heights from Small Beginnings rise:

The Gods were Great on Earth, before they reach'd the Skies.

B—well, the Generous Temper of whose Mind,

Was ever, to be bountiful, inclin'd:

Whether by his ill Fate or Fancy led,

First took me up, and furnish'd me with Bread.

The little Services he put me to,

Seem'd Labours, rather than were truly so.

But always my Advancement he design'd;

For 'twas his very Nature to be kind.

Large was his Soul, his Temper ever free;

The best of Masters and of Men to me.

And I who was before decreed by Fate,

To be made Infamous as well as Great,

With an obsequious Diligence obey'd him,

Till trusted with his All, and then betray'd him.

All his past Kindnesses I trampled on,

Ruin'd his Fortunes, to erect my own.

So Vipers in the Bosom bred, begin

To hiss at that Hand first which took them in.

With eager Treach'ry I his Fall pursu'd,

And my first Trophies were Ingratitude.

Ingratitude, the worst of Humane Guilt,

The basest Action Mankind can commit;

Which, like the Sin against the Holy Ghost,

Has least of Honour, and of Guilt the most;

Distinguish'd from all other Crimes by this,

That 'tis a Crime which no Man will confess.

That Sin alone, which shou'd not be forgiv'n

On Earth, altho' perhaps it may in Heav'n.

Thus my first Benefactor I o'rethrew;

And how shou'd I, be to a second, true?

The Publick Trusts came next into my Care,

And I to use them scurvily prepare:

My Needy Sov'reign Lord I play'd upon,

And lent him many a thousand of his own;

For which great Int'rests I took care to Charge,

And so my ill-got Wealth became so large.

My Predecessor Judas was a Fool,

Fitter to ha' been whip'd and sent to School,

Than Sell a Saviour: Had I been at Hand,

His Master had not been so cheap trapann'd;

I woud ha' made the eager Jews ha' found,

For thirty Pieces, thirty thousand Pound.

My Cousin Ziba, of Immortal Fame,

(Ziba, and I, shall never want a Name:)

First-born of Treason, Nobly did Advance

His Masters Fall, for his Inheritance.

By whose keen Arts, old David first began

To break his Sacred Oath with Jonathan:

The Good Old King 'tis thought was very loth

To break his Word, and therefore broke his Oath.

Ziba's a Traytor of some Quality,

Yet Ziba might ha' been inform'd by me:

Had I been there, he ne'er had been Content

With half th' Estate, nor half the Government.

In our late Revolution 'twas thought strange,

That I, of all Mankind, shou'd like the Change,

But they who wonder'd at it, never knew,

That in it I did my old Game pursue:

Nor had they heard of Twenty thousand Pound,

Which never yet was lost, nor ne'er was found.

Thus all things in their turn to Sale I bring,

God and my Master first, and then the King:

Till by successful Villanies made Bold,

I thought to turn the Nation into Gold;

And so to Forg—y my Hand I bent,

Not doubting I cou'd gull the Government;

But there was ruffl'd by the Parliament.

And if I scap'd the Unhappy Tree to Climb,

'Twas want of Law, and not for want of Crime.

But my
The Devil,

Old Friend, who Printed in my Face

A needful Competence of English Brass,

Having more Business yet for me to do,

And loth to lose his Trusty Servant so,

Manag'd the Matter with such Art and Skill,

As sav'd his Heroe and threw down the B—ll.

And now I'm Grac'd with unexpected Honours,

For which I'll certainly abuse the Donors:

Knighted, and made a Tribune of the People,

Whose Laws and Properties I'm like to keep well:

The Custos Rotulorum of the City,

And Captain of the Guards of their Banditie.

Surrounded by my Catchpoles I declare

Against the Needy Debtor open War.

I Hang poor Thieves for stealing of your Pelf,

And suffer none to Rob you, but my self.

The King Commanded me to help Reform ye,

And how I'll do't, Miss shall inform ye.

I keep the best Seraglio in the Nation,

And hope in time to bring it into Fashion.

No Brimstone Whore need fear the Lash for me,

That part I'll leave to Brother Jeffery.

Our Gallants need not go abroad to Rome,

I'll keep a Whoring Jubilee at Home.

Whoring's the Darling of my Inclination;

An't I a Magistrate for Reformation?

For this my Praise is sung by ev'ry Bard,

For which Bridewell wou'd be a just Reward.

In Print my Panegyricks fill the Streets,

And hired Goal-Birds their Huzza's Repeat.

Some Charities contriv'd to make a show,

Have taught the Needy Rabble to do so:

Whose empty Noise is a Mechanick Fame,

Since for Sir Belzebub they'd do the the same.

The Conclusion.

THen let us boast of Ancestors no more,

Or Deeds of Heroes done in Days of Yore,

In latent Records of the Ages past,

Behind the Rear of time, in long Oblivion plac'd.

For if our Vertues must in Lines descend,

The Merit with the Families would end:

And Intermixtures would most fatal grow;

For Vice would be Hereditary too;

The tainted Blood wou'd of Necessity,

In Voluntary Wickedness convey.

Vice, like Ill-nature, for an Age or two,

May seem a Generation to pursue;

But Vertue seldom does regard the Breed;

Fools do the Wise, and Wise Men Fools succeed.

What is't to us, what Ancestors we had?

If Good, what better? Or what worse, if Bad?

Examples are for imitation set,

Yet all Men follow Vertue with Regret.

Cou'd but our Ancestors retrieve the Fate,

And see their Off-spring thus Degenerate;

How we contend for Birth and Names unknown,

And Build on their past Actions, not our own;

They'd Cancel Records, and their Tombs Deface,

And openly disown the Vile Degenerate Race:

For Fame of Families is all a cheat,

Tis Personal Vertue only makes us Great.

THE Mock Mourners. A SATYR, By way of ELEGY on King WILLIAM.

To the QUEEN.

MADAM,

YOUR Majesty has so often declar'd Your just Concern for the Nations Loss, and Your Value for the Memory of the late King: You have so publickly approv'd his Conduct, so visibly mov'd in the same Steps, and pursu'd the wise Measures of this Your Glorious Ancestor, that it cannot be thought displeasing to Your Majesty, to reprehend those who make a Mock at the Sorrow of Your Majesty and Three Nations.

Your Majesty was the first who told us he cou'd not be sufficiently Lamented. May those who are not of the same Mind find no Favour with Your Majesty, nor ther Maker, till they repent that Sin against his Merit, and the Voice of their Native Country.

Here are no Reflections upon Your Majesties Houshold, or Council, or Courts of Justice, or either House of Parliament, and consequently no Offence against Your Royal Proclamation. 'Twou'd be an Affront to Your Majesty to imagine there were any, under all those Heads of Your Government, cou'd deserve the Reproof of the following Satyr.

Your Majesty has an entire Possession of the Hearts of Your People, but their Affection is still the deeper rooted by that generous Sorrow you have express'd for the Loss of Him, to whom they owe the full Possession of their Liberty under Your Government.

How they can be faithful Subjects to Your Majesty that were not true Friends to such a King, is a Mystery out of bumane Understanding, since the Happiness we enjoy by Your Government proceeds from his defending us against those who wou'd not have had Your Majesty to Reign over us.

'Twou'd be a Crime against Your Majesty, which deserv'd no Pardon, to suggest You shou'd be offended at that part of the Satyr which points at our Immoralities: Your Majesties Example, as well as Command, has encourag'd us all to declare War against Vice, and there we are sure of Your Royal Protection.

For the rest, if an extraordinary Concern for the Glorious Memory of the late King has led the Author into any Excesses, he begs Your Majesty would place it to the Account of that just Passion every honest Man retains for his extraordinary Merit; believing that no Man can have an Indifferency for the Memory of King William, and at the same time have any Desire for the Welfare of his Native Country.

While Your Majesty pursues the true Interest of England, the Protestant Religion, and the Welfare of Europe, as He did, You will have the same Enemies that he had; the same to oppose You Abroad, and reproach You at Home; but You will thereby engage all Your Honest Subjects to adhere the firmer to their Duty, all Your Protestant Neighbours to depend upon Your Protection, and God shall Crown Your Majesty and these Nations with His Special Favour and Benediction.

Amen.

A SATYR, &c.

SUCH has been this Ill-Natur'd Nation's Fate,

Always to see their Friends and Foes too late;

By Native Pride, and want of Temper, led,

Never to value Merit till 'tis Dead:

And then Immortal Monuments they raise,

And Damn their Former Follies by their Praise;

With just Reproaches Rail at their own Vice,

And Mourn for those they did before despise:

So they who Moses Government defied,

Sincerely sorrow'd for him when he Died.

And so when Britain's Genius fainting lay,

Summon'd by Death, which Monarchs must Obey,

Trembling and Soul-less half the Nation stood,

Upbraided by their own Ingratitude.

They, who with true born Honesty before,

Grudg'd him the Trophies he so justly wore,

Were, with his Fate, more than himself dismay'd,

Not for their King, but for themselves afraid.

He had their Rights and Liberties restor'd,

In Battel purchas'd, and by Peace secur'd:

And they with English Gratitude began,

To feel the Favour, and despise the Man.

But when they saw that his Protection ceas'd,

And Death had their Deliverer possest;

How Thunder-struck they stood! What cries they rais'd!

They look'd like Men Distracted and Amaz'd:

Their Terror did their Conscious Guilt explain,

And wish'd their injur'd Prince Alive again.

They Dream'd of Halters, Gibbets and of Goals,

French Armies, Popery and Prince of Wales.

Descents, Invasions, Uproars in the State,

Mobs, Irish Massacrees, and God knows what:

Imaginary Enemies appear'd,

And all they knew they Merited, they Fear'd.

'Tis strange that Pride and Envy should prevail,

To make Men's Sense as well as Vertue fail:

That where they must depend they should abuse,

And slight the Man they were afraid to lose.

But William had not Govern'd Fourteen Year,

To be an unconcern'd Spectator here:

His Works, like Providence, were all Compleat,

And made a Harmony we Wonder'd at.

The Legislative Power he set Free,

And led them step by step to Liberty,

'Twas not his Fault if they cou'd not Agree.

Impartial Justice He Protected so,

The Laws did in their Native Channels flow,

From whence our sure Establishment begun,

And William laid the first Foundation Stone:

On which the stately Fabrick soon appear'd,

How cou'd they sink when such a Pilot steer'd?

He taught them due defences to prepare,

And make their future Peace their present Care:

By him directed, Wisely they Decreed

What Lines shou'd be expell'd, and what succeed;

That now he's Dead there's nothing to be done,

But to take up the Scepter he laid down.

The Circle of this Order is so round,

So Regular as nothing can confound:

In Truth and Justice all the Lines commence,

And Reason is the vast circumference;

William's the moving Centre of the whole,

'T had else a Body been without a Soul;

Fenc'd with just Laws, impregnable it stands,

And will for ever last in Honest Hands.

For Truth and Justice are the immortal Springs,

Give Life to Constitutions, and to Kings:

In either case if one of them decay,

These can no more Command than those Obey:

Right is the only Fountain of Command,

The Rock on which Authority must stand.

And if Executive Power steps awry,

On either hand it splits on Tyranny:

Oppression is a Plague on Mankind sent,

Infects the Vitals of a Government.

Convulsions follow, and such Vapours rise,

The Constitution Suffocates and Dies:

Law is the Grand Specific to Restore,

And, unobstructed, never fails to Cure;

All other Rules compared unto that,

Are Tampering and Quacking with the State.

The Conscitution's like a vast Machine

That's full of curious Workmanship within:

Where, tho' the parts unweildy may appear,

It will be put in Motion with a Hair.

The Wheels are Officers and Magistrates,

By which the whole Contrivance operates:

Laws are the Weights and Springs which make it move

Wound up by Kings as Managers above;

Which if they're screw'd too high, or down too low,

The Movement goes too fast, or else too slow.

Then Legislators are the Engineers,

Who, when 'tis out of Order, make Repairs:

The People are the Owners; 'twas for them

The first Inventor drew the Ancient Scheme.

'Tis for their Benefit it works, and they

The Charges of maintaining it defray:

And if their Governours unfaithful prove,

They Engineers or Managers remove.

Unkind Contention sometimes their appears

Between the Managers and Engineers:

Such Strife is always to the Owners wrong,

And once it made the Work stand still too long;

Till William came, and loos'd the Fatal Chain,

And set the Engineers to Work again:

And having made the wondrous thing compleat,

To Anne's unerring Hand he left the Helm of State.

Anne, like Elisha, when just William went,

Receiv'd the Mantle of this Government,

And by Divine Concession does inherit

A Double Portion of his Ruling Spirit.

The Dying Heroe loaded with Renown,

Gave her the Nations Blessing with a Crown,

From God, the People, and the Laws, her own.

Told her that he had Orders from on High,

To lay aside the Government, and Die:

What he had Fought for, gave her up in Peace,

And chear'd her Royal Heart with Prospect of Success.

While he, who Death in all its Shapes had seen,

With full Composure quiet and serene,

Passive and undisorder'd at his Fate,

Quitted the English Throne without Regret.

No conscious Guilt disturb'd his Royal Breast,

Calm as the Regions of Eternal Rest:

Before his Life went out, his Heaven came in,

For all was bright without, and clear within.

The blest Rewards did to his Sight appear,

The Passage easie, and the Prospect near:

His parting Eye the gladsome Regions spied,

Just so, before, his Dear Maria Died.

His High Concern for England he exprest;

England, the Darling of his Royal Breast:

The transports of his parting Soul he spent,

Her dis-united Parties to Lament.

His Wishes then supply'd his want of Power,

And Pray'd for them, for whom he Fought before.

Speak Envy, if thou canst, inform us what

Cou'd this unthankful Nation, Murmur at?

But Discontent was always our Disease,

For Englishmen what Government can please?

We always had our Sons of Belial here,

Who knew no God, nor Government to Fear:

No Wonder these dislik'd his Gentle Sway,

Unwilling Homage to his Scepter Pay,

And only did for want of Power, Obey.

Some soft excuse for them we might contrive,

Had he not been the Gentlest Prince Alive:

Had he not born, with an exalted Mind,

All that was disobling and unkind.

Peaceful and tender Thoughts his Mind possest,

And High Superior Love conceal'd the rest:

Our Discontents wou'd oft his Pity move,

But all his Anger was supprest by Love.

That Heaven-born Passion had subdu'd his Soul,

Possest the greatest part, and Rul'd the whole:

This made him strive his People to possess,

Which he had done had he oblig'd 'em less.

He knew that Titles are but empty Things,

And Hearts of Subjects are the strength of Kings:

Justice and Kindness were his constant care;

He scorn'd to Govern Mankind by their Fear.

Their Universal Love he strove to Gain;

'Twas hard that we should make him strive in vain:

That he should here our English Humours find,

And we, that he had sav'd, shou'd be unkind.

By all endearing Stratagems he strove

To draw us by the Secret Springs of Love:

And when he could not Cure our Discontent,

It always was below him to Resent.

Nature was never seen in such Excess;

All Fury when Abroad, at Home all Peace:

In War all Fire and Blood, in Peace enclin'd

To all that's Sweet, and Gentle, Soft and Kind;

Ingratitude for this must needs Commence

In want of Honesty, or want of Sense.

When Kings to Luxury and Ease resign'd,

Their Native Countries just Defence declin'd,

This High pretending Nation us'd to plead,

What they'd perform had they a King to lead.

What Wondrous Actions had by them been done,

When they had Martial Monarchs, to lead on:

And if their Prince would but with France make War,

What Troops of English Heroes wou'd appear.

William the bottom of their Courage found,

False like themselves, meer emptiness and sound:

For call'd by Fate to Fight for Christendom,

They sent their King Abroad, and stay'd at Home;

Wisely declin'd the hazards of the War,

To Nourish Faction and Disorders here.

Wrapt in Luxurious Plenty they Debauch,

And load their Active Monarch with Reproach:

They stay at Home and teach him to Command,

And Judge those Actions which they dare not mend.

Backward in Deeds, but of their Censures free,

And blame that Conduct they're afraid to see:

Against the Hand that saves them they exclaim,

And Curse the Strangers, tho' they Fight for them.

Tho' some who wou'd excuse the Matter say,

They did not grudge their Service, but their Pay.

Where are the Royal Bands that now advance

To spread his dreadful Banners into France?

Britannia's Noble Sons her Interest fly,

And Foreign Heroes must their place supply;

Much for the Fame of our Nobility.

Posterity will be asham'd to hear

Great Britain's Monarch did in Arms appear,

And scarce an English Nobleman was there.

Our Ancestors had never Conquer'd France,

For Kingdoms seldom are subdu'd by Chance,

H•d Talbott, Vere and Montacutte, with held

The Glory for the danger of the Field.

Had English Honesty been kept alive,

The Ancient English Glory would survive.

But Gallantry and Courage will decline,

Where Pride and all Confederate Vices join.

Had we kept up the Fame of former Years,

Landen had been as Famous as Poictiers;

Ormond and Essex had not Fought alone,

The only English Lords our Verse can own:

The only Peers of whom the World can say,

That they for Honour Fought, and not for Pay.

A Regimented Few we had indeed,

Who serv'd for neither Pride nor Fame, but Bread:

Some Bully L—s, Protection P—s, and some

Went out because they durst not stay at Home.

Loaded with Noxious Vices they appear

A Scandal to the Nation, and the War:

Heroes in Midnight Scuffles with the Watch,

And Lewd enough an Army to Debauch,

Flesh't with cold Murthers, and from Justice fled,

Pursu'd by Blood, in Drink and Darkness shed,

In vain they strive with Bravery to appear,

For where there's Guilt, there always will be Fear.

These are the Pillars of the English Fame.

Such Peers as History must blush to Name.

When future Records to the World relate

Marsaglia's Field, and Gallant Schomberg's Fate,

W— was Captive made, it was severe,

Fate took the Honest Man, and left the Peer.

The World owes Fame for Ages long before

To the Great Stile of W— which he bore:

But when we come the Branches to compare,

'Tis a Hero Ancestor, a Bully Heir:

The Vertues the Posterity forsake,

And all their Gallant Blood is dwindl'd to a Rake.

More might be said, but, Satyr, stay thy Rhimes,

And mix not his Misfortunes with his Crimes;

We need not Rake the Ashes of the Dead,

Ther's Living Characters enough to Read.

How cou'd this Nation ever think of Peace?

Or how look up to Heaven for Success?

While lawless Vice in Fleets and Camps appear'd;

And Oaths were louder than their Cannon heard?

No wonder English Israel has been said,

Before the French Philistines Fleet t' ha' fled.

While T— Embrac'd with Whores appear'd,

And Vice it self the Royal Navy Steer'd.

William oppos'd their Crimes with steady Hand,

By his Example First, and then Command,

Prompted the Laws their Vices to suppress,

For which no doubt the Guilty Lov'd him less.

Ye Sons of Envy, Railers at the Times,

Be bold like English-men, and own your Crimes:

For shame put on no Black, but let us see

Your Habits always and your Tongues agree.

Envy ne'er Blushes: Let it not be said.

You Hate him Living, and you Mourn him Dead:

No Sorrow show where you no Love protess;

There are no Hypocrites in Wickedness.

Great Bonfires make, and tell the World y'are glad

Y' have lost the greatest Blessing e'er you had:

So Mad-Men sing in Nakedness and Chains;

For when the Sense is gone, the Song remains.

So Thankless Israel, when they were set free,

Reproach'd the Author of their Liberty,

And wish'd themselves in Egypt back again;

What pity 'twas they wish'd, or wish'd in vain?

Stop Satyr, let Britannia now relate

Her William's Character, and her own Fate;

Let her to him a grateful Trophy raise;

She best can sigh his Loss that sung his Praise.

BRITANIA.

Of all my Sons by Tyranny bereft,

A Widow desolate, and Childless left,

By Violence and Injury opprest,

To Heaven I cast my Eyes, and sigh'd the rest.

I need but Sigh, for I was always Heard,

And William on my welcome Shores appear'd.

With Wings of speed to Rescue me he came,

And all my Sorrows vanish'd into Flame.

New Joys sprung up, new Triumphs now abound,

And all my Virgin Daughters hear the sound:

Eternal Dances move upon my Plains,

And youthful Blood springs in my ancient Veins.

With open Arms I yielded my Embrace,

And William saw the Beauties of my Face.

He had before the Knowledge of my Charms,

For he had my Maria in his Arms.

While he remain'd I gave eternal Spring,

Made him my Son, my Darling, and my King;

While all the wondring World my choice approve,

Congratulate his Fate, and justifie my Love.

Of British Blood in Belgian Plains he liv'd,

My only Foreign Off-spring that surviv'd,

Batavian Climates nourish'd him a while,

Too great a Genius for so damp a Soil,

And freely then surrendered him to me,

For wise Men freely will the fates Obey.

Yet in my William they had equal Share,

And he defended them with equal care.

They were the early Trophies of his Sword,

His Infant Hand their Liberty restor'd.

His Nurse, the Belgick Lyon, roar'd for Aid,

And planted early Lawrels on his Head.

His easie Victories amaz'd Mankind;

We wonder'd what the dreadful Youth design'd.

Fearless he Fought his Country to set Free,

And with his Sword Cut out their Liberty.

The Journals of his Actions always seem'd

So wonderful as if the World had dream'd:

So swift, so full of Terror, he went on,

He was a Conqueror before a Man.

The Bourbon Sword, tho' it was brighter far,

Yet drawn for Conquest, and oppressive War,

Had all the Triumphs of the World Engrost:

But quickly all those Triumphs to Him lost.

Justice to William early Trophies brought;

William for Truth and Justice always fought.

He was the very Mystery of War,

He gain'd by't when he was not Conqueror.

And if his Enemies a Battel won,

He might be beaten, they wou'd be undone.

Antaeus like from every fall he rose,

Strengthen'd with double Vigor to oppose;

Those Actions Mankind judg'd Unfortunate,

Serv'd but as secret Steps to make him Great.

Then let them Boast their Glory at Landen,

In vain th' Embattell'd Squadrons crowded in,

Their's was the Victory, the Conquest mine.

Of all the Heroes Ages past adore,

Back to the first Great Man and long before;

Tho' Virtue has sometimes with Valour join'd,

The Barren World no Parallel can find.

If back to Israel's Tents I shou'd retire,

And of the Hebrew Heroes there enquire,

I find no Hand did Judah's Scepter wear,

Come up to Williams Modern Character.

Namure's Gygantick Powers he o'erthrew;

David did less when he Goliah slew.

Here's no Ʋriah's for Adult'ry slain,

No Oaths forgot to faithful Jonathan.

And if to Jesse's Grandson we ha' recourse,

William his Wisdom had without his Whores.

Joshua might still ha' staid on Jordan's Shore,

Must he, as William did, the Boyne pass o'er.

Almighty Power was forc'd to interpose,

And frighted both the Water, and his Foes:

But had my William been to pass that Stream.

God needed not to part the Waves for him.

Not Forty Thousand Canaanites cou'd stand;

In spight of Waves, or Canaanites, he'd Land:

Such Streams ne'er stemm'd his Tide of Victory;

No, not the Stream; no, nor the Enemy.

His Bombs and Cannon wou'd ha' made the Wall,

Without the Help of Jewish Rams-Horns, fall.

When his dear Israel from their Foes had fled,

Because of stoll'n Spoils by Achan hid,

He ne'er, like Joshua, on the Ground ha' laid,

He'd certainly ha' fought as well as pray'd.

The Sun would rather ha' been thought to stay,

Amaz'd to see how soon he had won the Day,

Than to give time the Canaanites to slay:

The greatest Captains of the Ages past,

Debauch'd their Fame with Cruelty at last:

William did only Tyrants subdue;

These conquer'd Kings, and then the People too:

The Subjects reap'd no Profit for their Pains,

And only chang'd their Masters, not their Chains;

Their Victories did for themselves appear,

And made their Peace as dreadful as the War:

But William fought Oppression to destroy,

That Mankind might in Peace the World enjoy.

The Pompeys, Caesars, Scipio's Alexanders,

Who croud the World with Fame, were great Commanders.

These too brought Blood and Ruin with their Arms,

But William always fought on other Terms:

Terror indeed might in his Front appear,

But Peace and Plenty follow'd in the Rear:

And if Oppression forc'd him to contend,

Calmness was all his Temper, Peace his End:

He was the only Man which Heaven saw fit

To regulate the World, or Conquer it.

Who can his Skill in Government Gainsay,

He that cou'd England's brittle Scepter Sway,

Where Parties too much Rule, and Kings Obey?

He always Reign'd by Gentleness and Love,

An Emblem of the Government above.

Vote me not Childless then in Christendom.

I yet have Sons in my suspended Womb;

And 'till just Fate such due Provision makes,

A Daughter my Protection undertakes.

Crowns know no Sexes, and my Government

To either Kind admits a just Descent.

Queens have to me been always Fortunate,

E'er since my English Phaenix rul'd the State,

Who made my People Rich, my Country Great.

Satyr be just, and when we lash their Crimes,

Mingle some Tears for William with our Rhimes.

Tho' Baseness and Ingratitude appear,

Thank Heav'n that we ha' Weeping Millons here:

Then speak our hearty Sorrows if you can,

Superior Grief in feeling Words explain:

Accents that wound, and all the Senses numb,

And while they speak, may strike the Hearer dumb:

Such Grief as never was for King before,

And such as never, never shall be more.

See how Authority comes weeping on,

And view the Queen lamenting on his Throne.

With just Regret, she takes the Sword of State,

Not by her Choice directed, but his Fate;

Accepts the sad Necessity with Tears,

And mournfully for Government prepares.

The Peoples Acclamation she receives

With sadden'd Joy, and a Content that grieves.

View next the sad Assemblies that appear

To tell their Grief for Him, and Joy for Her.

The first confounds the last with such Excess,

They hardly can their Noble thoughts express.

The illustrious Troops address here to condole,

And speak such Grief as Wounds her to the Soul:

They lodge their Sorrows in the Royal Breast;

The Harbour where the Nation looks for Rest.

Next these, the Representatives arise,

With all the Nation's Sorrow in their Eyes.

The Epithets they righteously apply

To the Restorer of their Liberty,

Are Tokens of their Sense and Honesty.

For as a Body we were always true,

But 'tis our Parties that our Peace undo.

Who can like them the Peoples Grief express?

They shew her all the Tokens of Excess:

O'erwhelm'd with Sorrow, and supprest with Care,

They place the Nation's Refuge now in her:

Nothing but her Succession cou'd abate

The Nation's Sorrow for their Monarch's Fate:

And nothing but his Fate cou'd their true Joy

For her Succession, lessen or destroy.

The Civil Sword to her, as Heaven saw fit,

With general Satisfaction they commit:

How can it in a Hand like hers miscarry?

But who shall for us weild the Military?

Who shall the jarring Generals Unite;

First teach them to agree, and then to Fight?

Who shall Renew'd Alliances contrive,

And keep the vast Confederacies alive?

Who shall the growing Gallick Force subdue?

'Twas more than all the World, but him cou'd do.

Sighs for departed Friends are sensless things,

But 'tis not so when Nations Mourn for Kings:

When wounded Kingdoms such a Loss complain,

As Nature never can repair again;

The Tyrant Grief, like Love, obeys no Laws,

But blindly views the Effect, and not the Cause.

Dark are the Works of Soveraign Providence

And often clash with our contracted Sense;

But if we might with Heavens Decrees debate,

And of our Makers Works expostulate,

Why shou'd he form a Mind supreamly Great,

And to his Charge commit the Reins of Fate,

And at one hasty Blow the World defeat?

A Blow so sudden, so severe and swift,

We had no time for Supplication left:

As if Almighty Power had been afraid.

Such Prayers wou'd by such Multitudes be made;

Such Moses's would to his Altars go,

To whom he never did, or wou'd, say no:

He hardly cou'd know how to strike the Blow.

For Prayer so much the Sov'reign Power commands

Ev'n God himself sometimes as Conquer'd stands,

And calls for Quarter at the Wrestlers Hands.

How Strenuous then had been the Sacred Strife,

While all the kneeling World had begg'd his Life,

With all that Earnestness of Zeal, and more

Than ever Nation begg'd for King before?

See how the neighbouring Lands his Fame improve,

And by their Sorrows testifie their Love,

Sprinkle his Memory with grateful Tears,

And hand his Glory to succeeding Years.

With what Contempt will English Men appear

When future Ages read his Character?

They'll never bear to hear in time to come

How he was lov'd Abroad, and scorn'd at Home.

The World will scarce believe it cou'd be true,

And Vengeance must such Insolence pursue.

Our Nation will by all Men be abhor'd,

And William's juster Fame be so restor'd.

Posterity, when Histories relate

His Glorious Deeds, will ask, What Giant's that?

For common Vertues may Mens Fame advance,

But an immoderate Glory turns Romance.

Its real Merit does it self undo,

Men talk is up so high it can't be true:

So William's Life, encreas'd by doubling Fame,

Will drown his Actions to preserve his Name.

The Annals of his Conduct they'll revise,

As Legends of Impossibilities.

'Twill all a Life of Miracles appear,

Too great for him to do, and them to hear.

And if some faithful Writer shou'd set down

With what Uneasiness he wore the Crown,

What thankless Devil had the Land possest,

This will be more prodigious than the rest.

With Indignation 'twill their Minds inspire,

And raise the Glory of his Actions higher.

They'll be asham'd their Ancestors to own,

And strive their Father's Follies to atone.

New Monuments of Gratitude they'll raise,

And Crown his Memory with Thanks and Praise.

Thou, Satyr, shalt the grateful Few rehearse,

And solve the Nation's Credit in thy Verse;

Embalm his Name with Characters of Praise,

His Fame's beyond the Power of time to rase.

From him let future Monarchs learn to Rule,

And make his lasting Character their School.

For he who wou'd in time to come be Great,

Has nothing now to do but imitate.

Let dying Parents when they come to bless,

Wish to their Children only his Success.

Here their Instructions very well may end,

William's Examqle only recommend,

And leave the Youth his History t'attend.

But we have here an Ignominious Crowd,

That Boast their Native Birth, and English Blood.

Whose Breasts with Envy and Contention burn,

And now Rejoice, when all the Nations Mourn:

Their awkward Triumphs openly they Sing,

Insult the Ashes of their Injur'd King;

Rejoice at the Disasters of his Crown;

And Drink the Horse's Health that threw him down.

Blush, Satyr, when such Crimes we must reveal,

And draw a silent Curtain to conceal.

Actions so vile shall ne'er debauch our Song;

Let Heaven alone, tho' Justice suffers long,

Her Leaden Wings, and Iron Hands, may show

That she is certain, tho' she may be slow.

His Foreign Birth was made the Fam'd Pretence,

Which gave our Home-Born Englishmen Offence.

But Discontent's the ancient English Fashion,

The Universal Blemish of the Nation.

And 'tis a Question, whether God cou'd make

That King whom every Englishman wou'd like?

Nor is it any Paradox to say,

William had more of English Blood than they;

The Royal Life flow'd in his sprightly Veins,

The same that in the Noble Stock remains;

The same which now his Glorious Scepter wields,

To whom three Nations just Obedience yields.

ANNE, the remaining Glory of our Isle,

Well she becomes the Royal English stile:

In William's steps sedately she proceeds,

William's a Pattern to Immortal Deeds.

Preserves his Memory with generous care,

Forgetting him is disobliging her;

Where shall the murmuring Party then appear

Where wou'd the Nation, but for her, ha' found

So safe a Cure for such a sudden Wound?

And cou'd she but as well the Camp supply,

The World the sooner would their Grief lay by.

But there the Fatal Breach is made so wide,

That Loss can never, never be—supply'd.

Ye Men of Arms, and English Sons of War,

Now Learn from him how you may Fight for her.

Your Grief for him express upon her Foes,

For William lov'd such Funeral Tears as those.

'Tis William's Glorious Scepter which she bears,

Like William she for Liberty appears.

She Mounts to Honour by the steps of Truth,

And his Example imitates in Both.

'Tis you must make her blooming Fame increase,

'Tis you must bring her Honour, Wealth and Peace:

And let it once more to the World be seen,

Nothing can make us greater than a Queen.

REFORMATION OF MANNERS.

The PREFACE.

NO Man is qualified to reprove other Mens Faults, but he that has none of his own, say some People, who are loth to be told of their Errours; and 'tis on this Account only, that the World has the Trouble of a Preface.

If that be true, the Author freely acknowledges he is the most unqualified Man in the World to reprove.

That no Man is qualified to reprove other Mens Crimes, who allows himself in the Practice of the same, is very readily granted, and is the very Substance and Foundation of the following Satyr: And on that score, the Author has as good a Title to Animadversion as another, since no Man can charge him with the Vices he has reproved.

But instead of Self-defence, he is rather willing to look back on the best Actions of his Life, with the Temper of a Penitent, and he wishes all Men wou'd do the like; 'tis the only way to make the Satyr Impertinent.

For Penitence would all his Verse disarm,

The Satyr's answer'd if the Men reform.

But the Fact is not true neither: 'Tis a very pretty way for Men to get rid of the Impertinence of Admonition. If none but faultless Men must reprove others, the Lord ha' Mercy upon all our Magistrates; and all our Clergy are undignified and suspended at a Blow.

Nor does the Satyr assault private Infirmity, or pursue Personal Vices; but is bent at those, who pretending to suppress Vice, or being vested with Authority for that purpose, yet make themselves the Shame of their Country, encouraging Wickedness by that very Authority they have to suppress it.

He professes himself sorry, either that Freedom of Speech is so dangerous in this Age, or that he is too much a Coward; otherwise, some had heard of their Crimes who think themselves above the Power of Punishment.

'Tis hard that Vice should have so much shelter from Civil Power, that Reproof shou'd lead the Party to suppress the Poet rather than the Crime.

And yet his Friends give him over for lost: An Account of what he has ventur'd to say, to whose Importunity he thinks himself oblig'd to answer with Juvenal,

Difficile est Satyram non scribere. Nam quis Iniquae

Tam Patiens Urbis, tam ferreus ut teneat se?

If any Man is injur'd by the Characters, he is content they should carry their Resentment to what Extremity they please; but if Truth may be on his side, the only way to make him do them Justice is to reform: And he promises to give Testimony to their Repentance, as an Amand Honourable, in a manner as publick as possible.

A SATYR, &c.

HOW long may Heav'n be banter'd by a Nation,

With broken Vows, & Shams of Reformation,

And yet forbear to show its Indignation?

Tell me ye Sages, who the Conscience guide,

And Ecclesiastick Oracles divide,

Where do the Bounds of Sovereign Patience end,

How long may People undestroy'd offend?

What Limits has Almighty Power prepar'd,

When Mercy shall be deaf and Justice heard?

If there's a Being Immortal and Immense,

Who does Rewards and Punishments dispence,

Why is he Passive when his Power's defy'd,

And his Eternal Government's deny'd?

Tell us why he that sits above the Sky,

Unreins no Vengeance, lets no Thunders fly,

When Villains prosper, and successful Vice,

Shall humane Power controul and Heavenly Power despise?

If 'tis because the Sins of such a Nation,

Are yet too small to conquer his Compassion,

Then tell us to what height Mankind may sin,

Before Celestial Fury must begin?

How their extended Crimes may reach so high,

Vengeance must follow and of course destroy;

And by the common Chain of Providence,

Destruction come like Cause and Consequence.

Then search the dark Arcana of the Skies,

An if ye can, unfold these Mysteries:

His clashing Providences reconcile

The partial Frown, and the unequal Smile.

Tell us why some have been destroy'd betimes,

While Albion's glittering Shores grow black with Crimes?

Why some for early Errors are undone,

Some longer still, and longer still sin on?

England with all her blackening Guilt is spar'd,

And Sodom's lesser Crimes receiv'd a swift Reward:

And yet all this be reconcil'd to both,

Impartial Justice, and unnerring Truth.

Why Ostia stands, and no revenging hand

Has yet dismist her from the burthen'd Land;

No Plague, no sulphurous Shower her exit makes,

And turns her Silver Thames to Stygian Lakes,

Whose so uninhabitable Banks might flow

With Streams as black as her that made 'em so:

And as a Monument to future times,

Should send forth Vapours nauseous as her Crimes.

Tell us why Carthage fell a Prey to Rome,

And mourn the Fate of bright Byzantium.

Why ancient Troy's embrac'd by Destiny,

And Rome, Immortal Rome, to Fate gives way,

Yet Ostia stands, more impious far than they?

Where are the Golden Gates of Palestine,

Where High Superiour Glory us'd to shine?

The mighty City Millions dwelt within,

Where Heaven's Epitome was to be seen.

God's Habitation Sacred to his Name,

Magnificent beyond the Voice of Fame:

Those lofty Pinnacles which once were seen,

Bright like the Majesty which dwelt within.

In which Seraphick Glory cou'd reside,

Too great for humane Vision to abide;

Whose glittering Fabrick, God the Architect,

The Sun's less Glorious Light, did once reject.

These all ha' felt the Iron hands of Fate,

And Heaven's dear Darling City's desolate.

No more the sacred Place commands our Awe,

But all become a Curse, a Golgotha.

The Reverend Pile can scarce its Ruins show,

Forsook by him whose Glory made it so.

Yet Ostia stands, her impious Towers defie

The threatning Comets of the blazing Sky,

Foreboding Signs of Ruine she despises,

And all her teaching Saviours Sacrifices;

The Jews are Fools, Jerusalem's out-done,

We crucifie the Father, they the Son.

Within her Reprobate Gates they are allow'd

Worse Jews than those which crucified the God:

They kill'd a Man, for they suppos'd him so;

These boldly sacrifice the God they know,

His Incarnation Miracles deny,

And vilely Banter his Divinity;

Their old Impostor, Socinus, prefer,

And the long Voyage of Heaven without a Pilot steer.

Yet Ostia boasts of her Regeneration,

And tells us wond'rous Tales of Reformation:

How against Vice she has been so severe,

That none but Men of Quality may swear:

How Publick Lewdness is expell'd the Nation,

That Private Whoring may be more in fashion.

How Parish Magistrates, like pious Elves,

Let none be Drunk a Sundays, but themselves.

And Hatkney Coach-men durst not ply the Street

In Sermon-time, till they had pay'd the State.

These, Ostia, are the Shams of Reformation,

With which thou mock'st thy Maker, and the Nation.

While in thy Streets unpunish'd there remain

Crimes which have yet insulted Heaven in vain,

Crimes which our Satyr blushes to review,

And Sins thy Sister-Sodom never knew:

Superiour Lewdness Crowns thy Magistrates,

And Vice grown grey usurps the Reverend Seats;

Eternal Blasphemies, and Oaths abound,

And Bribes among thy Senators are found.

Old Venerable Jeph, with trembling Air,

Ancient in Sin, and Father of the Chair,

Forsook by Vices he had lov'd so long,

Can now be vicious only with his Tongue;

Yet talks of ancient Lewdness with delight,

And loves to be the Justice of the Night:

On Bawdy Tales with Pleasure he reflects,

And lewdly Smiles at Vices he corrects.

The feeble tottering Magistrate appears

Willing to Wickedness, in spite of Years;

Struggles his Age and Weakness to resist,

And fain wou'd sin, but Nature won't assist.

L—l, the Pandor of thy Judgment-Seat,

Has neither Manners, Honesty, nor Wit;

Instead of which, he's plentiously supply'd

With Nonsense, Noise, Impertinence, and Prid

Polite his Language, and his flowing stile

Scorns to suppose good Manners worth his while;

With Principles from Education stor'd,

Th' Drudgery of Decency abhor'd:

The City-Mouth, with Eloqvence endu'd,

To Mountebank the list'ning Multitude,

Sometimes he tunes his Tongue to soft Harangues,

To banter Common Halls, and flatter Kings:

And all with but an odd indifferent Grace,

With Jingle on his Tongue, and Coxcomb in his Face;

Definitive in Law without Appeal,

But always serves the Hand who pays him well:

He Trades in Justice, and the Souls of Men,

And prostitutes them equally to Gain:

He has his Publick Book of Rates to show,

Where every Rogue the Price of Life may know:

And this one Maxim always goes before,

He never hangs the Rich, nor saves the Poor.

God-like he nods upon the Bench of State,

His Smiles are Life, and if he Frown 'tis Fate:

Boldly invading Heavens Prerogative;

For with his Breath he kills or saves alive.

Fraternities of Villains he maintains,

Protects their Robberies, and shares the Gains,

Who thieve with Toleration as a Trade,

And then restore according as they're paid,

With awkward scornful Phiz, and vile Grimace,

The genuine Talents of an ugly Face;

With haughty Tone, insults the Wretch that dies,

And sports with his approaching Miseries.

F—e for so sometimes unrighteous Fate

Erects a Madman for a Magistrate,

Equipt with Lewdness, Oaths, and Impudence,

Supplies with Vices his defect of Sence;

Abandon'd to ill Manners, he retains

His want of Grace, as well as want of Brains.

Before the Boy wore off, the Rake began,

The Bully then commenc'd, and then the Man.

Yet Nature seems in this to do him wrong,

To give no Courage with a saucy Tongue;

From whence this constant Disadvantage flows,

He always gives the Words, and takes the Blows:

Tho ofren Can'd, he's instructed by't;

But still he shews the Scoundrel with the Knight,

Still scurilous, and still afraid to sight.

His Dialect's a Modern Billingsgate,

Which suits the Hosier, not the Magistrate;

The same he from behind the Counter brought,

And yet he practic'd worse than he was taught;

Early Debauch'd, in Satans Steps he mov'd,

And all Mechanick Vices he improv'd:

At first he did his Sovereign's Rights invade,

And rais'd his Fortune by clandestine Trade;

Stealing the Customs, did his Profits bring,

And 'twas his calling to defraud his King:

This is the Man that helps to Rule the State,

The City's New-reforming Magistrate.

To Execute the Justice of the Law,

And keep less Villains than himself in Awe:

Take Money of the Rich, and Hang the Poor.

And lash the Strumpet he Debauch'd before.

So for small Crimes poor Thieves Destruction find,

And leave the Rogues of Quality behind.

Search all the Christian Climes from Pole to Pole,

And match for Sheriffs S—ple and C—le;

Equal in Character and Dignity,

This fam'd for Justice, that for Modesty:

By Merit chosen for the Chair of State,

This fit for Bridewel, that for Billingsgates

That richly clad to grace the Gaudy Day,

For which his Fathers Creditors must pay:

This from the fluxing Bagnio just dismist,

Rides out to make himself the City Jest.

From some lascivious Dish-clout to the Chair,

To punish Lewdness and Disorders there;

The Brute he Rides on would his Crimes detest,

For that's the Animal, and this the Beast;

And yet some Reformation he began,

For Magistrates ne'er bear the Sword in vain.

Expensiue Sinning always he declin'd,

To frugal Whoring totally resign'd:

His Avarice his Appetites opprest,

Base like the Man, and Bruitish like the Lust:

Concise in Sinning, Natures Call supply'd,

And in one Act two Vices gratified.

Never was Oyster, Beggar, Cinder Whore,

So much caress'd by Magistrates before:

They that are nice and squeamish in their Lust,

'Ts a sign the Vice is low, and wants a Gust;

But he that's perfect in the Extream of Vice,

Scorns to excite his Appetite by Price.

'Twas in his Reign we to Reform began.

And set the Devil up to mend the Man,

More might be said, but Satyr stay thy Rhimes,

And mix not his Misfortunes with his Crimes.

C—n superbly wise and grave of Life,

Cou'd every one reform, except his Wife:

Passive in Vice, he Pimps to his own Fate,

To shew himself a Loyal Magistrate.

'Tis doubtful who debauch'd the City more,

The maker of the Masque, or of the Whore.

Nor his Religion less a Masquerade,

He always drove a strange Mysterious Trade;

With doubtful Zeal, to Church he'll gravely come,

To Praise that God which he denies at home.

Socinian T—d's his Dear Ghostly Priest,

And taught him all Religion to digest.

Took prudent care he should not much profess,

And he was ne'er addicted to Excess.

And yet he Covets without Rule or End,

Will sell his Wife, his Master, or his Friend.

To houndless Avarice a constant Slave,

Unsatisfy'd as Death and greedy as the Grave.

Now, Satyr, let us view the the numerous Fry,

That must succeeding Magistrates supply,

And search if future Years are like to be

Much better taught, or better rul'd than we.

The Senators of Hospital Descent,

The upper House of Ostia's Parliament,

Who from Destruction should their City save,

But are as wicked as they shou'd be grave:

With Citizens in Petto, who at need,

As these do those, so those must these succeed.

D—b, the Modern Judas of the Age,

Has often try'd in vain to mount the Stage:

Profuse in Gifts and Bribes to God and Man,

To ride the City-Horse, and wear the Chain.

His Vices Ostia, thou hast made thy own,

In chusing him, thou writ'st thy own Lampoon:

Fancy the haughty Wretch in Chair of State,

At once the City's Shame and Magistrate;

At Table set, at his right Hand a Whore,

Ugly as those which he had kept before.

He to do Justice, and reform our Lives,

And She receive the Homage of our Wives.

Now Satyr, give another Wretch his Due,

Who's chosen to reform the City too;

Hate him, ye Friends to Honesty and Sense,

Hate him in injur'd Beauty's just Defence;

A Knighted Booby Insolent and Base,

"Whom Man no Manners gave, nor God no Grace.

The Scorn of Women, and the Shame of Men,

Matcht at Threescore to innocent Fifteen;

Hag-rid with jealous Whimsies lets us know,

He thinks he's Cuckold 'cause he should be so:

His vertuous Wife exposes to the Town,

And fears her Crimes, because he knows his own.

Here Satyr, let them just Reproach abide,

Who sell their Daughters to oblige their Pride

The Ch—er—n begins the doleful Jest,

As a Memento Mori to the rest;

Who fond to raise his Generation by't,

And see his Daughter buckl'd to a Knight:

The Innocent unwarily betray'd,

And to the Rascal join'd the hapless Maid;

The Purchase is too much below the Cost,

For while the Lady's gain'd, the Woman's lost.

What shall we say to common Vices now,

When Magistrates the worst of Crimes allow?

Ostia, if e'er thou wilt reform thy Gates,

't must be another Set of Magistrates:

In Practice just, and in Profession sound;

But God knows where the Men are to be found.

In all thy numerous Streets 'tis hard to tell,

Where the few Men of Faith and Honour dwell:

Poor and despis'd so seldom they appear,

The Cynick's Lanthorn wou'd be useful here.

No City in the spacious Universe,

Boasts of Religion more, or minds it less;

Of Reformation talks, and Government,

Backt with an Hundred Acts of Parliament:

Those useless Scare-Crows of neglected Laws,

That miss the Effect because they miss the Cause:

Thy Magistrates who should reform the Town,

Punish the poor Mens Faults, but hide their own.

Suppress the Players Booths in Smithfield-Fair,

But leave the Cloysters, for their Wives are there,

Where all the Scenes of Lewdness do appear.

Satyr, the Arts and Mysteries forbear,

Too black for thee to write, or us to hear:

No Man, but he that is as vile as they,

Can all the Tricks and Cheats of Trade survey.

Some in Clandestine Companies combine,

Erect new Stocks to trade beyond the Line:

With Air and empty Names beguile the Town,

And raise new Credits first, then cry 'em down.

Divide the empty nothing into Shares,

To set the Town together by the Ears.

The Sham Projectors and the Brokers join,

And both they Cully Merchant undermine;

First he must be drawn in and then betray'd,

And they demolish the Machine they made:

So conjuring Chymists, who with a Charm and Spell,

Some wondrous Liquid wondrously exhale;

But when the gaping Mob their Money pay,

The Charm's dissolv'd, the Vapour flies away:

The wondring Bubbles stand amaz'd to see

Their Money Mountebank'd to Mercury.

Some fit out Ships, and double Fraights ensure,

And burn the Ships to make the Voyage secure:

Promiscuous Plunders thro' the World commit,

And with the Money buy their safe Retreat.

Others seek out to Africk's Torrid Zone,

And search the burning Shores of Serralone;

There in unsufferable Heats they fry,

And run vast Risques to see the Gold, and die:

The harmless Natives basely they trepan,

And barter Baubles for the Souls of Men:

The Wretches they to Christian Climes bring o'er,

To serve worse Heathens than they did before.

The Cruelties they suffer there are such,

Amboyna's nothing, they've out-done the Dutch:

Cortez, Pizarro, Guzman, Penaloe,

Who drank the Blood and Gold of Mexico,

Who thirteen Millions of Souls destroy'd.

And left one third of God's Creation void;

By Birth for Natures Butchery design'd,

Compar'd to these are merciful and kind;

Death cou'd their cruellest Designs fulfil,

Blood quench'd their Thirst, and it suffic'd to kill:

But these the tender Coup de Grace deny,

And make Men beg in vain for leave to die;

To more than Spanish Cruelty inclind,

Torment the Body and debauch'd the Mind:

The lingring Life of Slavery preserve,

And vilely teach them both to sin and serve.

In vain they talk to them of Shades below,

They fear no Hell, but where such Christians go;

Of Jesus Christ they very often hear,

Often as his Blaspheming Servants swear,

They hear and wonder what strange Gods they be,

Can bear with Patience such Indignity.

They look for Famines, Plagues, Disease, and Death,

Blasts from above, and Earthquakes from beneath:

But when they see regardless Heaven looks on,

They curse our Gods, or think that we have none.

Thus Thousands to Religion are brought o'er,

And made worse Devils than they were before.

Satyr, the Men of Drugs and Simples spare,

'Tis hard to search the latent Vices there;

Their Theologicks too they may defend,

They can't deceive, who never do pretend.

As to Religion, generally they show

As much as their Profession will allow:

But count them all Confederates of Hell,

'Till B— they with one consent expel.

B— our Satyr startles at his Name,

The Colledge Scandal, and the City's Shame:

Not satisfy'd his Maker to deny,

Provokes him with Lampoon and Blasphemy;

And with unpresidented Insolence

Banters a God, and scoffs at Providence.

No Nation in the World, but ours, wou'd bear

To hear a Wretch blaspheme the Gods they fear:

His Flesh long since their Altars had adorn'd,

And with his Blood appeas'd the Powers he scorn'd.

But see the Badge of our Reforming Town,

Some cry Religion up, some cry it down:

Some worship God, and some a God defie,

With equal boldness, equal liberty;

The silent Laws decline the just Debate,

Made dumb by the more silent Magistrate;

And both together small distinction put

'Twixt him that owns a God, and him that owns him not:

The Modern Crime 'tis thought no Being had,

They knew no Atheist when our Laws were made.

'Tis hard the Laws more Freedom shou'd allow,

With God above, than Magistrates below.

B— unpunish'd, may Heaven and Earth defie,

Dethrone Almighty Power, Almighty Truth deny;

Burlesque the Sacred, High, Ʋnutter'd Name,

And impious War with Jove himself Proclaim.

While Justice unconcern'd looks calmly on,

And B— boasts the Conquests he has won;

Insults the Christian Name, and laughs to see

Religion Bully'd by Philosophy.

B— with far less hazard may blaspheme,

Than thou may'st Satyr trace thy Noble Theme;

The Search of Vice more Hazard represents

From Laws, from Councils, and from P—

Thou may'st be wicked, and less danger know,

Than by informing others they are so:

Thou can'st 〈◊〉 P—r, no Counsellor expose,

Or dress a vicious M—r in his proper Cloaths;

But all the Bombs and Canon of the Law,

Are soon drawn out to keep thy Pen in awe:

By Laws Post Facto thou may'st soon be slain,

And Innuendo's shall thy Guilt explain.

Thou may'st Lampoon, and no Man will resent,

Lampoon but Heaven, and not the P—:

Our Trusties and our Welbelov'ds forbear;

Thou'rt free to banter Heaven, and all that's there;

The boldest Flights thou'rt welcome to bestow

O'th' Gods above, but not the Gods below.

B— may banter Heaven, and A—l Death,

And T—d poyson Souls with his infected Breath,

No Civil Government resents the Wrong;

But all are touch'd and angry at thy Song,

Thy Friends without the help of Prophesie,

Read Goals and Gibbets in thy Destiny;

But Courage springs from Truth, let it appear,

Nothing but Guilt can be the Cause of Fear;

Satyr go on, thy keenest Shafts let fly,

Truth can be no Offence to Honesty:

The Guilty only are concern'd, and they

Lampoon themselves, when e'er they censure thee.

PART II.

THE City's view'd, now Satyr turn thine Eye,

The Country's Vices, and the Court's survey;

And from Impartial Scrutiny set down,

How much they're Both more vicious than the Town.

How does our ten Years War with Vice advance?

About as much as it hath done with France.

Ride with the Judge, and view the wrangling Bar,

And see how lewd our Justice-Merchants are:

How Clito comes from instigating Whore,

Pleads for the Man he Cuckol'd just hefore;

See how he Cants, and acts the Ghostly Father,

And brings the Gospel and the Law together:

To make his Pious Frauds be well receiv'd,

He quotes the Scripture which he ne'er believ'd.

Fluent in Language, indigent in Sense,

Supplies his want of Law with Impudence.

See how he rides the Circuit with the Judge;

To Law and Lewdness a devoted Drudge.

A Brace of Femal-Clients meet him there,

To help debauch the Sizes and the Fair:

By Day he plies the Bar with all his Might,

And Revels in St. Ed— 's Streets at Night:

The Scandal of the Law, his own Lampoon,

Is Lawyer, Merchant, Bully, and Bu••oon,

In Drunken Quarrels eager to engage,

Till Brother Justice lodg'd him in the Cage:

A thing the Learned thought could never be,

Had not the Justice been as drunk as he.

He pleads of late at Hymen's Nuptial Bar,

And bright Aurelia is Defendant there.

He Courts the Nymph to wed, and make a wife,

And Swears by God he reform will his Life.

The solemn Part he might ha' well forbore;

For she alas! has been, has been a Whore:

The Pious Dame, the sober Saint puts on,

And Clito's in the way to be undone.

Casco's debauch'd, 'tis his Paternal Vice;

For wickedness descends to Families:

The tainted Blood the Seeds of Vice convey,

And plants new Crimes before the old decay.

Thro' all Degrees of Vice the Father run,

But sees himself out-sin'd by either Son;

Whoring and Incest he has understood,

And they subjoyn Adultery and Blood.

This does the Orphan's Cause devoutly plead,

Secures her Money and her Maidenhead:

And then perswades her to defend the Crime,

Evade the Guilt, and Banter off the Shame.

Taught by the subtile Counsellor, she shows

More nice Distictions than Ignatius knows:

In Matrimony finds a learned flaw,

A Wife in Honour, and a Wife in Law.

"Choice is the Substance of the Contract made,

"And mutual Love the only Knot that's ty'd:

"To these the Laws of Nations must submit;

"And where they fail, the Contract's incompleat.

"So that if Love and Choice were not before,

"The last may be the Wife, the first the Whore.

Thus she securely sins with eager Gust,

And satisfies her Conscience, and her Lust:

Nor does her Zeal and Piety omit,

But to the Whore she joins the Jesuit;

With constant Zeal frequents the House of Prayer,

To heal her prostituted Conscience there,

Without Remorse, adjourns with full Content,

From his lascivious Arms to th' Sacrament.

The Brother less afraid of Sin than Shame,

Doubles his Guilt, to save his tottering Fame:

'Twas too much Risque for any Man to run,

To save that Credit which before was gone:

The Innocent lies unreveng'd in Death,

He stop'd the growing Scandal in her Breath:

Till rime shall lay the horrid Murder bear:

No Bribes can crush the Writs of Error there.

Nor is the Bench less tainted than the Bar:

How hard's that Plague to cure that's spread so far!

'Twill all prescrib'd Authorities reject,

While they're most guilty who shou'd first correct.

Contagious Vice infects the Judgment-Seats,

And Vertue from Authority retreats:

How shou'd she such Society endure?

Where she's contemn'd she cannot be secure.

Milo's a Justice, they that made him so

Shou'd answer for th' oppressive Wrongs he'll do:

His Lands almost to Ostia's walls extend;

And of his heap'd up thousands there's no end,

If Magistrates, as in the Text 'tis clear,

Ought to be such as Avarice abhor,

This may be known of the Almighty's Mind,

That Milo's not the Man the Text design'd.

Satyr, be bold and, and fear not to expose

The vilest Magistrate the Nation knows:

Let Furius read his naked Character.

Blush not to write what he shou'd blush to hear;

But let them blush, who in a Christian State

Made such a Devil be a Magistrate.

In Britain's Eastern Provinces he Reigns,

And serves the Devil with excessive Pains:

The Nation's shame, and honest Mens surprize,

With Drunkard in his Face, and Mad-man in his Eyes.

The sacred Bench of Justice he Prophanes,

With a Polluted Tongue, and Bloody hands.

His Intellects are always in a Storm,

He frights the People which he shou'd reform.

Antipathys may some Diseases cure,

But Vertue can no contraries endure.

All Reformation stopt where Vice commands,

Corrupted Heads can ne'er have upright Hands.

Shameless his Class of Justices he'll Swear,

And plants the Vices he should punish there.

His Mouths a Sink of Oaths and Blasphemies,

And Cursings are his kind Civilities;

His servent Prayer to Heaven he hourly sends,

But 'tis Damn himself and all his Friends;

He raves in Vice, and storms that he's confin'd,

And studies to be worse than all Mankind.

Extreams of Wickedness are his Delight,

And's as pleas'd to hear that he's distinguisht by't.

Exotick ways of sinning he improves,

We curse and hate, he censures where he loves;

So strangely retrograde to all Mankind,

If crost he damns himself, if pleas'd his Friend.

This is the Man that helps to bless the Nation,

And bully Mankind into Reformation:

The true Coercive Power of the Law,

Which drives the People which it cannot draw:

The Nation's Scandal, England's true Lampoon,

A Drunken, Whoring, Justicing Buffoon.

With what stupendious Impudence can he,

Punish a poor Man's Immorality?

How shou'd a Vicious Magistrate assent,

To mend our Manners or our Government

How shall new Laws for Reformation pass,

When Vice the Legislation does possess.

To see old S—y Blasphemy descry,

And old S—ne punish Bribery.

Lying exploded by a Perjur'd Knight,

And Whoring Punish'd by a Sodomite,

That he the Peoples Freedom shon'd defend,

Who had the King and People too trepan'd.

Soldiers seek Peace, Drunkards prohibit Wine,

And Fops and Beaus our Politicks refine:

These are the Absurdities too gross to hide,

Which wise Men wonder at, and Fools deride.

When from the Helm Socinian H—t flies,

And all the rest his Tenents stigmatize,

And none remain that Jesus Christ denies.

Judas expell'd, Lewd Lying C— sent home,

And Men of Honesty put in their Room.

Blaspheming B—s to his Fen-Ditches sent,

To bully Justice with a Parliament,

Then we shall have a Christian Government.

Then shall the wisht for Reformation rise,

And Vice to Virtue fall a Sacrifice:

And with the Nauseous Rabble that retire,

Turn out that Bawdy, Saucy Poet P— .

A Vintner's Boy the Wretch was first preferr'd,

To wait at Vice's Gates, and Pimp for Bread;

To hold the Candle, and sometimes the Door,

Let in the Drunkard, and let out the Whore:

But as to Villains it has often chanc'd,

Was for his Wit and Wickedness advanc'd.

Let no Man think his new Behaviour strange,

No Metamorposis can Nature change;

Effects are chain'd to Causes, generally

The Rascal born will like a Rascal die.

His Prince's Favours follow'd him in vain,

They chang'd the Circumstance, but not the Man.

While out of Pocket, and his Spirits low,

He'd beg, write Panegyricks, cringe and bow;

But when good Pensions had his Labour crown'd,

His Panegyrick's into Satyrs turn'd,

And with a true Mechanick Spirit curst,

Abus'd his Royal Benefactor first.

O what assiduous Pains does P— take,

To let great D— see he cou'd mistake!

Dissembling Nature false Description gave,

Shew'd him the Poet, and conceal'd the Knave.

To—d, if such a Wretch is worth our Scorn,

Shall Vices blackest Catalogue adorn

His hated Character, let this supply,

Too vile even for our University.

Now, Satyr, to one Character be just,

M—ns the only Pattern and the first:

A Title which has more of Honour in't,

Then all his ancient Glories of Descent.

Most Men their Neighbours Vices will disown,

But he's the Man that does reform his own.

Let those alone reproach his want of Sense,

Who with his Crimes have had his Penitence.

'Tis want of Sense makes Men when they do wrong,

Adjourn the promised Penitence too long,

Nor let them call him Coward because he fears

To pull both God and Man about his Ears.

Amongst the worst of Cowards let him be Nam'd,

Who having sinn'd's afraid to be asham'd:

And to mistaken Courage he's betray'd,

Who having sinn'd's asham'd to be afraid.

Thy Valour, M— , does our Praise prevent,

For thou hast had the Courage to Repent:

Nor shall his first Mistake our Censure find.

What Heaven forgets let no Man call to mind.

Satyr, Make search thro' all the sober Age,

To bring one season'd Drunkard on the Stage;

Sir Stephew, nor Sir Thomas won't suffice,

Nor six and twenty Kentish Justices:

Your E—x Priesthood hardly can supply,

Tho' they'r enough to Drink the Nation dry;

Tho' Parson B—d has been steept in Wine,

And sunk the Royal Tankard on the Rhine,

He's not the Man that's fit to raise a Breed,

Shou'd P—k, P—l, or R—n succeed;

Or match the Size of matchless Rochester,

And make one long Debauch of Thirteen Year;

It must be something can Mankind out-do,

Some high Excess that's wonderful and new:

Nor will Mechanick Sots our Satyr suit,

'Tis Quality must grace the Attribute.

These like the lofty Cedars to the Shrub,

Drink Maudlin-Colledge down, and Royston Club.

Such petty Drinking's a Mechanick Evil,

But he's a Drunkard that out-Drinks the Devil;

If such can not in Court or Church appear,

Let's view the Camp, you'll quickly find 'em there.

Brave T—n, who Revell'd Day and Night,

And always kept himself too drunk to fight;

And O—d, in a Sea of Sulphur strove

To let the Spaniards see the Vice we love.

Yet these are puny Sinners, if you'll look

The dreadful Roll in Fate's Anthentick Book.

The Monument of Bacchus still remains,

Where English Bones lie heap'd in Irish Plains:

Triumphant Death upon our Army trod,

And Revell'd at Dundalk in English Blood.

Let no Man wonder at the Dreadful Blow,

For Heaven has seldom been insulted so.

In vain brave Scomberg mourn'd the Troops that fell,

While he made Vows to Heaven and they to Hell.

Our Satyr trembles to review those times,

And hardly finds out Words to name their Crimes;

In every Tent the horrid Juncto's sate,

To brave their Maker, and despise their Fate;

The Work was done, Drunkenness was gone before,

Life was suspended, Death could do no more.

Five Regimented Heroes there appear,

Captains of Thousands, mighty Men of War,

Glutted with Wine, and Drunk with Hellish Rage,

For want of other Foes they Heaven engage.

Sulphur and ill extracted Fumes agree,

To make each drop push on their Destiny.

Th' Infernal Draughts in Blasphemies rebound,

And openly the Devil's Health went round:

Nor can our Verse their latent Crime conceal,

How they shook hands to meet next day in Hell;

Death pledg'd them, Fate the dreadful Compact Read,

Concurring Justice spoke, and Four of Five lay Dead.

When Men their Maker's Vengeance once defy,

'Tis a certain Sign that their Destruction's nigh.

'Tis vain to single out Examples here,

Drunkenness will soon be th' Nation's Character:

The grand Contagion's spreading over all,

'Tis Epidemick now, and National.

Since then the Sages all Reproofs despise,

Let's quit the People and Lampoon the Vice.

Drunkenness is so the Error of the Time,

The Youth begin to ask if 'tis a Crime:

Wonder to see the grave Patricians come,

From City Courts of Conscience reeling home;

And think 'tis hard they shou'd no Licence make,

To give the Fredom which their Father's take.

The Seat of Judgment's so debauch'd with Wine,

Justice seems rather to be Drunk than blind:

Let's fall the Sword, and her unequal Scale,

Makes Right go down, and Injury prevail.

A Vice, 'tis thought, the Devil at first design'd

Not to allure, but to affront Mankind;

A Pleasure Nature hardly can explain,

Suits none of God Almighty's Brutes but Man.

An Act so nautious, that had Heaven enjoyn'd

The Practice, as a Duty on Mankind,

They'd shun the Bliss which came so foul a way,

And forfeit Heaven, rather than once obey.

A double Crime, by which one Act we undo

At once the Gentleman and Christian too:

For which no better Antidote is known,

Than t' have one Drunkard to another shown.

The Mother Conduit of expatiate Sin,

Where all the Seeds of Wickedness begin;

The In roduction to Eternal Strife,

And Prologue to the Tragedy of Life;

A foolish Vice, does needless Crimes reveal,

And only tells the Truth it shou'd conceal.

'Tis strange how Men of Sence shou'd be subdu'd

By Vices so unnatural and rude,

Which gorge the Stomach to divert the Head,

And to make Mankind merry, make them mad:

Destroys the Vitals, and distracts the Brain,

And rudely moves the Tongue to talk in vain,

Dismisses Reason, stupifies the Sence,

And wond'ring Nature's left in strange suspence;

The Soul's benumb'd, and ceases to inform,

And all the Sea of Nature's in a Storm;

The dead unactive Organ feels the Shock,

And willing Death attends the Fatal stroke.

And is this all for which Mankind endure

Distempers past the Power of Art to cure?

For which our Youth Old Age anticipate,

And with Luxurious Drafts suppress their Vital Heat?

Tell us, ye Learned Doctors of the Vice,

Wherein the high mysterious Pleasure lies?

The great sublime Enjoyment's laid so deep,

'Tis known in Dream, and understood in Sleep.

The Graduates of the Science first commence,

And gain Perfection when they lose their Sence:

Titles they give, which call their Vice to mind;

But Sot's the common Name for all the kind:

Nature's Fanaticks, who their Sense employ,

The Principles of Nature to destroy.

A Drunkard is a Creature God ne'er made,

The Species Man, the Nature retrograde,

From all the Sons of Paradise they seem

To differ in the most acute Extreme;

Those covet Knowledge, labour to be Wise;

These stupifie the Sense, and put out Reason's Eyes,

For Health and Youth those all their Arts employ,

These strive their Youth and Vigour to destroy,

Those Damn themselves to heap an ill-got Store,

These liquidate their Wealth, and covet to be Poor.

Satyr, examine now with heedful Care,

What the Rich Trophies of the Bottle are,

The mighty Conquests which her Champions boast,

The Prizes which they gain, and Price they cost.

The Ensigns of her Order soon displace

Natures most early Beauties from the Face,

Paleness at first succeeds, and languid Air,

And bloated Yellows supersede the Fair;

The flaming Eyes betray the Nitrous Flood,

Which quench the Spirits, and inflame the Blood,

Disperse the Rofie Beauties of the Face,

And Fiery Botches triumph in the place;

The tott'ring Head and trembling Hand appears,

And all the Marks of Age, without the Years,

Distorted Limbs, gross and unweildy move.

And hardly can pursue the Vice they love:

A Bacchanalian Scarlet dies the Skin,

A Sign what Sulphurons Streams arise within,

The Flesh emboss'd with Ulcers, and the Brain

Oppress'd with Fumes and Vapour, shews in vain

What once before the Fire it did contain.

Strange Power of Wine, whose Vehicle the same

At once can both extinguish and inflame:

Keen as the Light'ning does the Sword consume,

And leaves the untouch'd Scabbard in its room;

Nature burnt up with fiery Vapour dies,

And Wine a little while Mock-Life supplies:

Gouts and old Aches, Life's short Hours divide,

At once the Drunkards Punishment and Pride:

Who having all his Youthful Powers subdu'd,

Enjoys Old Age and Pain, before he shou'd,

Till Nature quite exhausted quits the Wretch,

And leaves more Will than Power to Debauch,

With Hellish Pleasure past excess he views,

And fain wou'd drink, but Nature must refuse:

Thus Drench'd in artificial Flame he lies,

Drunk in Desire, forgets himself and dies.

In the next Regions he expects the same;

And Hell's no change, for here he liv'd in Flame.

Satyr, to Church, Visit the House of Prayer,

And see the wretched Reformation there;

Unveil the Mask, and search the Sacred Sham:

For Rogues of all Religion are the same.

The several Tribes, their numerous Titles view,

And fear no Censure where the Fact is true;

They all shall have thee for their constant Friend,

Who more than common Sanctity pretend;

Provided they'll take care the World may see

Their Practices and their Pretence agree;

But count them with the worst of Hypocrites,

Whom Zeal divides, and Wickedness unites,

Who in Profession only are precise,

Dissent in Doctrine, and conform in Vice.

They who from the Establish'd Church divide,

Must do it out of Piety or Pride:

And their Sincerity is quickly try'd.

For always they that stand before the first.

Will be the best of Christians, or the worst.

But shun their secret Councils, O, my Soul!

Whose Interest can their Consciences controul;

Those Ambo-Dexters in Religion, who

Can any thing dispute, yet any thing can do:

Those Christian-Mountebanks, that in disguise,

Can reconcile Impossibilities:

Alternately conform, and yet dissent,

And sin with both Hands, but with one repent.

The Man of Conscience all Mankind will love,

The Knaves themselves his Honesty approve:

He only to Religion can pretend,

The rest do for the Name alone contend;

The Verity of true Religion's known

By no Description better than its own:

Of Truth and Wisdom it informs the Mind,

And Nobly strives to civilize Mankind;

With potent Vice maintains Eternal Strife,

Corrects the Manners, and reforms the Life.

Tell us ye Learned Magi of the Schools,

Who pose Mankind with Ecclesiastick Rules,

What strange amphibious Things, are they that can

Religion without Honesty maintain?

Who own a God, pretended Homage pay,

But neither his, nor Human Laws Obey.

Blush England, hide thy Hypocritick Face,

Who has no Honesty, can have no Grace.

In vain we argue from Absurdities,

Religion's bury'd just when Vertue dies:

Vertue's the Light by which Religion's known,

If this be wanting, Heaven will that disown.

We grant it Merits no Divine Regard;

And Heaven is all from Bounty, not Reward:

But God must his own Nature contradict,

Reverse the World, its Goverment neglect,

Cease to be just, Eternal Law repeal,

Be weak in Power, and mutable in Will,

If Vice and Vertue equal Fate should know,

And that unbless'd, or this unpunish'd go.

In vain we strive Religion to disguise,

And smother it with Ambiguities;

Interest and Priest—, may, perhaps, invent

Strange Mysteries, by way of Supplement:

School-men may deep perplexing Doubts disclose,

And subtile Notions on the World Impose;

Till by their Ignorance they are betray'd,

And lost in Desarts which themselves ha' made.

Zealots may Cant, and Dreamers may Divine,

And formal Fops to Pageantry incline,

And all with specious Gravity pretend

Their spurious Metaphysicks to defend.

Religion's no divided Mystick Name;

For true Religion always is the same.

Naked and Plain her Sacred Truths appear,

From pious Frauds, and dark Aenigma's clear:

The meanest Sense may all the Parts discern,

What Nature teaches all Mankind may learn:

Even what's reveal'd, is no untrodden Path,

'Tis known by Rule, and understood by Faith,

The Negatives and Positives agree,

Illustrated by Truth and Honesty.

And yet if all Religion was in vain,

Did no Rewards or Punishments contain,

Vertues so suited to our Happiness,

That none but Fools cou'd be in love with Vice,

Vertue's a Native Rectitude of Mind,

Vice the Degeneracy of Human-kind:

Vertue is Wisdom Solid and Divine,

Vice is all Fool without, and Knave within:

Vertue is Honour circumscrib'd by Grace,

Vice is made up of every thing that's base:

Vertue has secret Charms which all Men love,

And those that do not choose her, yet approve:

Vice like ill Pictures which offend the Eye,

Make those that made them their own Works deny:

Vertue's the Health and Vigour of the Soul,

Vice is the foul Disease infects the whole:

Vertue's the Friend of Life, the Soul of Health,

The Poor Man's Comfort, and the rich Man's Wealth,

Vice is a Thief, a Traytor in the Mind.

Assassinates the Vitals of Mankind;

The Poyson of his high Prosperity,

And only Misery of Poverty.

To States and Governments they both extend,

Vertue's their Life and Being, Vice their end:

Vertue establishes, and Vice destroys,

And all the end of Government unties:

Vertue's an English King and Parliament,

Vice is a Czar of Muscow Government:

Vertue sets Bounds to Kings, and limits Crowns,

Vice knows no Law, and all Restraint disowns:

Vertue prescribes all Government by Rules,

Vice makes Kings Tyrants and their Subjects Fools:

Vertue seeks Peace, and Property maintains,

Vice binds the Captive World in hostile Chains:

Vertue's a Beauteous Building form'd on high,

Vice is Confusion and Deformity.

In vain we strive these two to reconcile,

Vain and impossible, the unequal Toil:

Antipathies in Nature may agree,

Darkness and Light, Discord and Harmony;

They distant Poles, in spight of space may kiss;

Water capitulate, and Fire make Peace:

But Good and Evil never can agree,

Eternal Discords there, Eternal Contrariety.

In vain the Name of Vertue they put on,

Who preach up Piety and practice none.

Satyr resume the Search of secret Vice,

Conceal'd beneath Religion's fair Disguise.

Solid's a Parson Orthodox and Grave,

Learning and Language more than most Men have.

A fluent Tongue, a well-digested Stile,

His Angel Voice his Hearers Hours beguile,

Charm'd them wich Godliness, and while he spake,

We lov'd the Doctrine for the Teachers sake;

Strictly to all Prescription he conforms,

To Canons, Rubrick, Discipline, and Forms;

Preaches, Disputes, with Diligence and Zeal,

Labours the Church's latent Wounds to heal:

'Twou'd be uncharitable to suggest,

Where this is found, we should not find the rest:

Yet Solid's frail and false to say no more,

Dotes on a Bottle, and what's worse a W—

Two Bastard Sons he educates abroad,

And breeds them to the Function of the Word.

In this the zealous Church-man he puts on,

And Dedicates his Labours to the Gown.

P— , for so his Grace the Duke thought fit,

Has in the wild of Sussex made his Seat:

His want of Manners we cou'd here excuse,

For in his Day 'twas out of Fulpit-use;

Railing was then the Duty of the Day,

Their Sabbath-work, was but to Scold and Pray:

But when transplanted to a Country-Town,

'Twas hop'd he'd lay his fiery Talent down,

At least we thought he'd so much Caution use,

As not his Noble Patron to abuse.

But 'tis in vain to cultivate Mankind,

When Pride has once possession of his Mind.

Not all his Grace's Favours could prevail,

To calm that Tongue that was so used to rail.

Promiscuous Gall his Learned Mouth defil'd,

And Hypocondraick Spleen his Preaching spoil'd;

His undistinguish'd Censure he bestows,

Not by Desert, but as Ill-nature flows.

The Learned say the Causes are from hence,

An Ebb of Manners, and a Flux of Sence;

Dilated Pride, the Frenzy of the Brain.

Exhal'd the Spirits and disturb'd the Man;

And so the kindest thing which can be said,

Is not to say he's mutinous, but mad:

For less could ne're his Antick Whims explain,

He thought his Belly pregnant as his Brain:

Fancy'd himself with Child, and durst believe,

That he by Inspiration cou'd conceive,

And if the Het'rogeneous Birth goes on,

He hopes to bring his Mother Church a Son:

Tho' some Folks think the Doctor ought to doubt,

Not how't got in, but how it will get out.

Hark, Satyr, Now bring Boanerges down,

A Fighting Priest, a Bully of the Gown:

In double Office he can serve the Lord,

To fight his Battles and to preach his Word;

And double Praise is to his merit due,

He thumps the Pulpit and the People too.

Then search my L— of L— Diocess,

And see what R— the Care of Souls possess;

Beseech his L— but to name the Priest,

Went sober from his Visitation Feast.

Tell him of sixteen Ecclesiastick Guides,

On whom no Spirit but that of Wine abides;

Who in contiguous Parishes remain,

And Preach the Gospel once a Week in vain:

But in their Practices unpreach it all,

And sacrifice to Bacchus or to Baal.

Tell him a Vicious Priesthood must imply

A careless or defective Prelacy.

But still be circumspect and spare the Gown,

The Mitre's full as Sacred as the Crown;

The Churches Sea is always in a Storm,

Leave them at Latter Lamas to reform.

If in their Gulph of Vice thou should'st appear,

Thoul't certainly be lost and Shipwrack'd there:

Nor medle with their Convocation Feuds,

The Church's F—, the Clergy's Interludes;

Their Church Distinctions too let us lay by,

As who are low Church R— and who are high.

Enquire not who their Passive Doctrine broke,

Who swore at Random, or who ly'd by Book:

But since their Frailties come so very fast,

'Tis plain they shou'd not be believ'd in hast.

Satyr, for Reasons we ha' told before,

With gentle Strokes the Men of Posts pass o'er

Nor within Gun-shot of St. Stephen's come,

Unless thou'rt well prepar'd for Martyrdom;

Not that there's any want of Subjects there,

But the more Crimes we have the less we'll hear,

And what hast thou to do with S— P—?

Let them sin on and tempt the Fatal Hour,

'Tis vain to preach up dull Morality,

Where too much Crime and too much Power agree;

The hardn'd Guilt undocible appears,

They'll exercise their Hands but not their Ears.

Let their own Crimes be Punishment enough,

And let them want the favour of Reproof.

Let the Court-Ladies be as lewd as fair,

Let Wealth and Wickedness be M— Care;

Let D— drench his Wit with his Estate,

And O— sin in spight of Age and Fate;

On the wrong side of Eighty let him Whore,

He always was, and will be lewd and poor,

Let D— be proud, and O— gay,

Lavish of vast Estates, and scorn to pay:

The Ancient D— has sin'd to's Heart's contend,

And but he scorns to stoop wou'd now repent:

Wou'd Heaven abate but that one Darling Sin,

He'd be a Christian and a P— again,

Let poor Corrina mourn her Maiden-head,

And her lost D— gone out to fight for Bread.

Be he Embarkt for P— or S— ,

She prays he never may return again;

For fear she always shou'd resist in vain.

Satyr, forbear the blushing Sex t' expose,

For all their Vice from Imitation flows;

And 'twou'd be but a very dull pretence,

To miss the Cause, and blame the Consequence;

But let us make Mankind asham'd to Sin,

Good Nature'l make the Women all come in,

This one Request shall thy Rebukes express,

Only to talk a little little less.

Now view the Beau's at Will's, the Men of Wit,

By Nature nice, and for discerning fit:

The finish'd Fops, the Men of Wig and Snuff,

Knights of the famous Oyster-Barrel Muff.

Here meets the Dyet of Imperial Wit,

And of their weighty Matters wisely treat;

Send Deputies to Tunbridge and the Bath,

To guide your Country Beau's in Wits unerring Path.

Prigson from Nurse and Hanging-sleeves got free,

A little smatch of Modern Blasphemy;

A powder'd Wig, a Sword, a Page, a Chair,

Learns to take Snuff, drinks Chocolate, and swear:

Nature seems thus far to ha' led him on,

And no Man thinks he was a Fop too soon;

But 'twas the Devil surely drew him in,

Against the Light of Nature thus to sin:

That he who was a Coxcomb so compleat.

Should now put in his wretched Claim for Wit.

Such sober steps Men to their Ruine take,

A Fop, a Beau, a Wit, and then a Rake.

Fate has the Scoundrel Party halv'd in two,

The Wits are shabby, and the Fops are Beau;

The Reasons plain, the Money went before,

And so the Wits are Rakish 'cause they'r Poor,

Indulgent Heaven for Decency thought fit,

That some shou'd have the Money, and some the Wit.

Fools are a Rent Charge left on Providence,

And have Equivalents instead of Sense;

To whom he's bound a larger Lot to carve:

Or else they'd seem to ha' been born to starve:

Such with their double Dole shou'd be content,

And not pretend to Gifts that Heaven ne'er sent:

For 'twou'd reflect upon the Power Supream,

If all his Mercies ran in one contracted Stream:

The Men of Wit would by their Wealth be known,

Some wou'd have all the Good, and some ha' none.

The useless Fools wou'd in the World remain,

As Instances that Heaven could work in vain,

Dull Flettumacy has his Hearts Delight,

Get's up i'th' Morning to lie down at Night;

His Talk's a Mass of weighty emptiness,

None more of Business prates, or knows it less;

A painted lump of Laziness and Sloth,

And in the Arms of Bacchus spends his Youth:

The waiting Minutes tend on him in vain,

Mispent the past, unvalu'd those remain;

Time lies as useless unregarded by,

Needless to him that's only Born to Dye,

And yet this undiscerning thing has Pride,

And hugs the Fop that wiser Men deride.

Pride's a most useful Vertue in a Fool,

The humble Cockcomb's always made a Tool;

Conceit's a Blockhead's only Happiness,

He'd hang himself if he could use his Eyes.

If Fools cou'd their own Ignorance discern,

They'd be no longer Fools:

From whence some wise Philosophers ha' said,

Fools may sometimes be sullen, but can't be mad.

'Tis too much thinking which distracts the Brain,

Crouds it with Vapours which dissolve in vain;

The fluttering Wind of undigested thought

Keeps Mock Idea's in, and true ones out:

These guide the undirected Wretch along,

With giddy Head and inconsistent Tongue;

But Flettumasy's safe, he's none of them,

Bedlam can never lay a Claim to him,

Nature secur'd is unincumbred Scull,

For Flettumacy never thinks at all:

Supinely sleeps in Diadora's Arms;

Doz'd with the Magick of her Craft and Charms;

The subtile Dame brought up in Vice's School,

Can love the Cully, tho' she hates the Fool:

Wisely her just Contempt of him conceals,

And hides the Follies he himself reveals.

'Tis plain the self-denying Jilt's i'th' Right

She wants his Money, and he wants her Wit.

Satyr, the Men of Rhime and Jingle shun,

Has thou not Rhim'd thy self till thour't undone?

On Rakish Poets, let us not reflect,

They only are what all Mankind expect.

Yet 'tis not Poets have debaucht the Times,

'Tis we that have so damn'd their sober Rhimes:

The Tribe's good natur'd, and desire to please,

And when you snarl at those, present you these.

The World has lost its ancient Taste of Wit,

And Vice comes in to raise the Appetite;

For Wit has lately got the start of Sence,

And serves it self as well with Impudence.

Let him whose Fate it is to write for Bread,

Keep this one Maxim always in his Head:

If in this Age he wou'd expect to please,

He must not cure, but nourish their Disease;

Dull Moral things will never pass for Wit,

Some Years ago they might, but now 'tis too late.

Vertue's the faint Green-sickness of the Times,

'Tis luscious Vice gives Spirit to all Rhimes,

In vain the Sober thing inspir'd with Wit,

Writes Hymns and Histories from Sacred Writ;

But let him Blasphemy and Bawdy write,

The Pious and the Modest both will buy't.

The blushing Virgin's pleas'd and loves to look,

And plants the Poem next her Prayer-Book.

W—ly with Pen and Poverty beset,

And Bl—re Vers't in Pyysick as in Wit.

Tho' this of Jesus, that of Job may sing,

One Bawdy Play will twice their Prosits bring,

And had not both carest the Flatter'd Crown,

This had no Knighthood seen, nor that no Gown.

Had Vice no Power the Fancy to bewitch,

Dryden had Hang'd himself as well as Creech:

Durfey had starv'd, and half the Poets fled

In Foreign parts, to pawn their Wit for Bread.

▪Tis Wine or Lewdness all our Theams supplies,

Gives Poets Power to write, and Power to please:

Let this describe the Nations Character,

One Man reads Milton, forty Rochester.

This lost his Taste, they say, when h' lost his Sight,

Milton had Thought, but Rochester had Wit.

The Case is plain, the Temper of the Time,

One wrote the Lewd, and t'other the Sublime.

And shou'd Apollo now descend and write,

In Vertue's Praise 'twou'd never pass for Wit.

The Bookseller perhaps wou'd say, 'Twas well:

But 'Twou'd not hit the Times, 'Twou'd never Sell:

Unless a Spice of Lewdness cou'd appear,

The sprightly part wou'd still be wanting there.

The Fashionable World wou'd never read,

Nor the Unfashionable Poet get his Bread.

'Tis Love and Honour must enrich our Verse,

The Modern Terms, our Whoring to rehearse.

The sprightly part attends the God of Wine,

The Drunken Stile must blaze in every Line.

These are the Modern Qualities must do,

To make the Poem and the Poet too.

Dear Satyr, If thou wilt reform the Town,

Thou'lt certainly be beggar'd and undone:

'Tis at thy Peril if thou wilt proceed

To cry down Vice, Mankind will never read.

CONCLUƲSION.

WHat strange Mechanick thoughts of God & Man

Must this unsteady Nation entertain,

To think Almighty Science can be blind,

Wisdom it self be banter'd by Mankind;

Eternal Providence be mockt with Lyes,

With out-sides and Improbabilities,

With Laws those Rhodomonta's of the State,

Long Proclamation, and the Lord knows what;

Societies ill Manners to suppress,

And new sham Wares with Immoralities,

While they themselves to common Crimes betray'd,

Can break the very Laws themselves ha' made:

With Jehu's Zeal they furiously reform,

And raise false Clouds, which end without a Storm;

But with a loose to Vice securely see

The Subject punish'd, and themselves go free.

For shame your Reformation-Clubs give o'er,

And jest with Men, and jest with Heaven no more:

But if you wou'd avenging Powers appease,

Avert the Indignation of the Skies;

Impending Ruin avoid, and calm the Fates,

Ye Hypocrites, reform your Magistrates.

Your Quest of Vice at Church and Court been

There lie the Seed of high expatiate Sin;

'Tis they can cheek the Vices of the Town,

When e'er they please, but to suppress their own.

Our Modes of Vices from their Examples came,

And their Examples only must reclaim

In vain you strive ill Manners to suppress

By the Superlatives of Wickedness:

Ask but how well the Drunken Plow-man looks,

Set by the swearing Justice in the Stocks;

And poor Street Whores in Bridewel feel their Fate,

While Harlot M—n rides in a Coach of State.

The Mercenary Scouts in every Street,

Bring all that have no Money to your feet,

And if you lash a Strumpet of the Town,

She only smarts for want of half a Crown:

Your Annual Lists of Criminals appear,

But no Sir Harry or Sir Charles is there.

Your Proclamations Rank and File appear,

To Bug-bear Vice, and put Mankind in fear:

These are the Squibs and Crackers of the Law,

Which hiss and make a Bounce, and then withdraw.

Law like the thunder of Immortal Jove,

Rings Peals of Terror from the Powers above;

But when the pointed Lightnings disappear,

The Cloud dissolves, and all's serene and clear:

Law only aids Men to conceal their Crimes,

But 'tis Example must reform the Times,

Force and Authorities are all in vain,

Unless you can perswade, you'll ne'er constrain;

And all perswasive Power expires of Course,

'Till backt with good Examples to enforce.

The Magistrates must Blasphemy forbear,

Be faultless first themselves, and then severe;

Impartial Justice equally dispence,

And fear no Man, nor fear no Man's Offence:

Then may our Justices, and not before,

When they reprove the Rich, correct the Poor.

The Men of Honour must from Vice dissent,

Before the Rakes and Bullies will repent;

Vertue must be the Fashion of the Town,

Before the Beau's and Ladies put it on;

Wit must no more be Bawdy and Profane,

Or Wit to Vertue's reconcil'd in vain.

The Clergy must be sober, grave and wise,

Or else in vain they cant of Paradise:

Our Reformation never can prevail,

While Precepts govern and Examples fail.

Were but the Ladies vertuous as they're fair,

The Beau's wou'd blush as often as they swear;

Vice wou'd grow antiquated in the Town,

Wou'd all our Men of Mode but cry it down:

For Sin's a Slave to Custom, and will'd to die,

Whenever Habits suffer a Decay;

And therefore all our Reformation here,

Must work upon our Shame, and not our Fear.

If once the Mode of Vertue wou'd begin,

The poor will quickly be asham'd to sin.

Fashion is such a strange bewitching Charm,

For fear of being laugh'd at they'll Reform.

And yet Posterity will blush to hear

Royal Examples ha' been useless here;

The only Just Exception to our Rule,

Vertue's not learnt in this Imperial School.

In vain Maria's Character we read,

So few will in her Path of Vertue tread.

In vain her Royal Sister recommends

Vertue to be the Test of all her Friends,

Backt with her own Example and Commands.

Our Church establisht, and our Trade restor'd,

Our Friends protected, and our Peace secur'd:

France humbl'd, and our Fleet's insulting Spain,

These are the Triumphs of a Female Reign;

At Home her milder Influence she imparts,

Queen of our Vows, and Monarch of our Hearts.

If Change of Sexes thus will change our Scenes,

Grant Heaven we always may be rul'd by Queens.

THE Spanish Descent. A POEM.

LOng had this Nation been amus'd in vain

With Posts from Portugal and News from Spain:

With Ormonds Conquests and the Fleets success,

And Favours from the Moors at Maccaness,

The Learned Mob bought Compasses and Scales,

And every Barber knew the Bay of Cales,

Show'd us the Army here, and there the Fleet,

Here the Troops Land, and there the Foes retreat.

There at St. Maries how the Spaniard runs

And listen close as if they heard the Guns,

And some pretend they see them — the Nuns.

Others describe the Castle and Puntalls

And tell how easie 'tis to conquer Cales,

Wisely propose to let the Silver come,

And help to pay the Nations Debts at Home.

But still they count the Spoils without the Cost,

And still the News came faster than the Post.

The graver Heads, like Mountebanks of State

Of Abdications and Revolts Debate,

Expect a Revolution shou'd appear

As Cheap and Easy as it had done here.

Bring the Revolting Grandees to the C•ast,

And give the Duke D' Anjou up for lost.

Doom him to France to seek relief in vain,

And send the Duke of Austria to Spain,

Canvas the Council at Madrid and find

How all the Spanish Courtiers stand enclin'd,

Describe the strange Convulsions of the State,

And old Carreroe's Sacrific'd to Fate:

Then all the Stage of Action they survey

And wish our Generals knew as much as they,

Some have their Fancies so exceeding Bold

They saw the Queens fall out, and heard 'em scold,

Nor is the thing so strange for if they did,

'Twas talking from Toledo to Madrid.

And now the Farce is Acting o'er again,

The meaning of our Mischiefs to explain;

The Learned Mob O'er-read in Arms and Law,

The Cause of their Miscarriages foresaw.

Tell us the Loytering Minutes were mispent

Too long a going, and too few that went.

Exalt the Catalonian Garison,

The new made Works, the Platform and the Town:

Tell us it was impossible to Land,

And all their Batteries sunk into the Sand.

Some are all Banter, and the Voyage despise

For fruitless Actions seldom pass for wise.

Tell us 'twas like our English Politicks

To think to wheedle Spain with Hereticks.

The disproportion'd Force they Banter too,

The Ships too Many, and the Men too Few.

Then they find Fault with Conduct, and condemn

Sometimes the Officers sometimes the Men,

Nor 'scapes his Grace the Satyr of the Town,

Whoever fails success, shall fail Renown.

Sir George comes in amongst the Indiscreet,

Sometimes the Army's censur'd then the Fleet.

How the abandon'd Country they destroy'd

And made their early Declarations void,

Too hasty Proofs of their Protection gave,

Plund'ring the People, they came there to save.

As if the Spaniards were so Plagu'd with France,

To fly to Thieves for their deliverance,

But amongst all the Wisdom of the Town

The vast designs of Fate remain unknown,

Unguest at, unexpected, hid from thoughts,

For no Man look't for Blessings in our Faults,

Mischances sometimes are a Nations Good.

Rightly Improv'd, and Nicely Understood.

Ten Years we felt the Dying Pangs of War

And fetch'd our Grief and Miseries from far.

Our English Millions Foreign War maintains,

And English Blood has drencht the Neighbouring Plains.

Nor shall we Blush to Boast what all Men own,

Uncommon English Valour has bin shown,

The forward Courage of our Ill Paid Men,

Deserves more Praise than Nature spares my Pen,

What cou'd they not perform, or what endure?

Witness the mighty Bastions of Namur.

We Fasted much, and we attempted more.

But ne'er cou'd come to giving thanks before,

Unless, 'twas when the Fatal Strife was o'er.

Some secret Achan Curst our Enterprise,

And Israel fled, before her Enemies.

Whether the Poisonous Particles were hid,

In us that Follow'd, or in Them that Led,

What Fatal Charm benumn'd the Nations Sence,

To struggle with Eternal Providence,

Whether some Curse, or else some Perjur'd Vow,

Or some strange Guilt that's expiated now?

Was it the Pilots who ill steer'd the State,

Or was it the Decisive Will of Fate?

'Tis hard to tell, but this too well we know,

All things went backward, or went on too slow

Small was the Glory, of our High Success,

A tedious War, and an Imperfect Peace,

Peace Dearly purchas'd, and which Cost us more

Great Kingdoms, than we Conquer'd Towns before.

Actions may miss of their deserv'd Applause,

When Heaven approves the Men, and not the Cause,

And well contriv'd Designs miscarry when,

Heaven may approve the Cause but not the Men,

Here then's the Ground of our Expence of Blood,

The Sword of Gideon's, not the Sword of God.

The Mighty and the Wise are laid aside,

And Victory the Sex has Dignified,

We have been us'd to Female Conquests here,

And Queens have been the Glory of the War,

The Scene Revives with Smiles of Providence,

All things Declin'd before, and Prosper since;

And as if ill-Success had been entail'd,

The Posthume Projects are the last that fail'd,

As Heaven, whose works were hid from Human view,

Would blast our old Designs, and bless our New.

And now the Baffl'd Enterprize grows stale,

Their Hopes Decrease, and juster Doubts prevail,

The unattempted Town sings Victory,

And scar'd with Walls, and not with Men, we flye.

Great Conduct in our safe Retreat we shew,

And bravely Re-embark, when none pursue:

The Guns, the Ammunition's put on Board;

And what we could not Plunder we restor'd.

And thus we quit the Andalusian Shores,

Drencht with the Spanish Wine, and Spanish W—s.

With songs of scorn the Arragonians Sing,

And loud Te Deums make the Valleys Ring.

Uncommon Joys now raise the hopes of Spain,

And Vigo does their Plate-Fleet entertain.

The vast Galleons deep-Ballased with Ore,

Safely reach home to the Galitian Shore.

The Double Joy spreads from Madrid to Rome,

The English fled, the Silver Fleet comes home:

From thence it reaches to the Banks of Po,

And the Loud Cannons let the Germans know,

The Rattling Volleys tell their short-liv'd Joys,

And roar Te Deum out in Smoak and Noise.

To Milan next it flies on Wings of Fame,

There the Young Monarch and his Heroes came,

From sad Luzara, and the Mantuan Walls

To seek New Dangers and to Rescue Cales.

His Joy for welcome Treasure he exprest,

But grieves at his Good Fortune in the rest.

The Flying English he had wish'd to stay,

To crown with Conquests one Victorious Day.

The Priests, in high Procession shew their Joy,

And all the Arts of Eloquence employ,

To feed his Pride of fancy'd Victories,

And raise his un-try'd Valour to the Skies.

The flattering Courtiers his vain mind possess,

With Airy hopes of Conquest and Success.

Prompt his Young thoughts to run on new Extreams,

And Sycophantick Pride his Heart Inflames:

His Native Crime springs up, his Pulse beats high,

With thoughts of Universal Monarchy;

Fancies his Foreign Enemies supprest,

And Boasts too soon, how he'll subdue the Rest.

Princes like other Men are Blind to Fate,

He only sees the Event who does the Cause Create.

From hence thro' France the Welcome Tidings fly,

To mock his ancient Sire with mushroom Joy.

Raptures possess the ambitious Heads of France,

And Golden Hopes their new Designs advance.

Now they Consult to Crush the World agen,

And talk of riffling Christendom for Men.

New Fleets, new Armies, and new Leagues contrive,

And swallow Men and Nations up alive.

Prescribe no Bounds to their ambitious Pride,

But first the Wealth, and then the World divide.

Excess of Pride, to airy Madness grows,

And makes Men strange Romantick things propose.

The Head turns round, and all the Fancy's vain,

And makes the World as Giddy as the Brain.

Men that consult such weighty things as those,

All possible Disasters should suppose.

In vain great Princes mighty things Invent,

While Heaven retains the Power to prevent.

He that to General Mischief makes pretence,

Should first know how to Conquer Providence.

Such strive in vain, and only shew Mankind,

How Tyrants cloath'd with Power, are all enclin'd.

Mean while our Melancholly Fleet steers Home,

Some griev'd for past, for future Mischiefs some.

Disaster swells the Blood, and Spleen the Face;

And ripens them for glorious things apace.

With deep Regret they turn their Eyes to Spain,

And wish they once might visit them again.

Little they Dreamt that Good which Heaven prepar'd,

No merit from below, no Signs from Heaven appear'd.

No hints unless from their high ripen'd Spleen,

And strange ungrounded Sympathy within.

The silent Duke from all mis-conduct free,

Alone enjoys the Calm of Honesty:

Fears not his Journal should be fairly shown,

And sighs for Englands Errors, not his own.

His constant Tempers all Serene and Clear;

First, free from Guilt, and therefore free from fear.

Not so the rest for conscious Thoughts become

More restless now, the nearer they come home.

The Party-making Feuds on Board begin:

For People always Quarrel when they sin.

Reflect with shame upon the things mis-done,

And shift their Faults about from One to One.

Prepare Excuses, and compute their Friends,

And dread the Fate, which their Desert attends.

Some wish for Storms, and curse the Wind and Sails.

And dream, no doubt of Gibbets and of Jayls;

Imaginary Punishments appear,

And suited to their secret Guilt's their fear:

Their hast'ning Fate in their own Fancies Read,

And few, 'tis fear'd, their Innocence can plead.

Then their sweet Spoils to trusty Hands convey,

And throw the rifl'd Gods of Spain away:

Disgorge that Wealth they dare not entertain,

And wish the Nuns their Maidenheads again.

Dismiss their Wealth for fear of Witnesses,

And Purge their Coffers and their Consciences:

Cursing their ill got Trifles but in vain:

For still the Guilt, and still the fears remain.

Tell us ye Rabbies of abstruser Sense,

Who jumble Fate and Fools with Providence.

Is this the chosen Army, this the Fleet,

For which Heavens Praises sound in every Street?

Cou'd Heaven provide them one occasion more,

Who had so ill-Discharg'd themselves before:

That Fleet so many former Millions lost.

So little had Perform'd, so much had Cost;

That Fleet, so often Man'd with Knaves before,

That serv'd us all the War to make us Poor;

That twice had made their fruitless Voyage to Spain,

And saw the Streights, and so came Home again:

Our Wooden Walls that should defend our Trade,

And many a Witless, Wooden Voyage ha' made,

How oft have they been fitted out in vain,

Wasted our Money, and destroy'd our Men,

Betray'd our Merchants, and expos'd their Fleets,

And caus'd Eternal Murmurs in our Streets?

The Nation's Genius sure prevails above,

And Heaven conceals his Anger, show's his Love:

The Nations Guardian Angel has prevail'd,

And on her Guardian Queen new Favours has entail'd.

Now let glad Europe in her turn rejoice,

And sing new Triumphs with exalted Voice.

See the glad Post of Tidings wing'd with News,

With suited Speed the Wondring Fleet pursues:

His haste discern'd, increases their Surprize,

The more they wonder, and the more he flies.

Nor Wind, nor Seas, proportion'd speed can bear;

For Joy and Hope have swifter Wings than Fear.

With what Surprise of Joy they meet the News!

Joys, that to every Vein new Spirits infuse.

The wild Excess in Shouts and Cries appear:

For Joys and Griefs are all irregular.

Councils of War, for sake of Forms they call,

But shame admits of no Disputes at all.

How should they differ, where no Doubt can be?

But if they shou'd accept of Victory,

Whether they shou'd the great occasion take,

Or baffle Heaven, and double their mistake?

Whether the naked and defenceless Prize

They shou'd accept; Or Heaven and that despise?

Whether they shou'd revive their Reputation;

Or sink it twice, and twice betray the Nation?

Who dare the horrid Negative design?

Who dare the Last suggest, the First decline?

Envy her self: For Satan's always there,

And keeps his Councils with the God of War.

Tho' with her swelling Spleen she seem'd to burst,

Will'd the Design, while the Event she curs'd.

The word's gone out, and now they spread the Main

With swelling Sails, and swelling Hopes for Sapin.

To double Vengeance prest, where e'er they come,

Resolv'd to pay the haughty Spaniard home.

Resolv'd by future Conduct to attone,

For all our past Mistakes, and all their own.

New Life springs up in every English Face,

And fits them all for Glorious things apace.

The Booty some excites, and some the Cause;

But more the Hope to gain their lost Applause.

Eager their sully'd Honour to restore,

Some Anger whets, some Pride and Vengeance more,

The lazy Minutes now pass on too slow:

Fancy flies faster than the Winds can blow.

Impatient Wishes lengthen out the Day;

They chide the loytering Winds for their delay.

But Time is Natures faithful Messenger,

And brings up all we wish, as well as all we fear.

The Mists clear up, and now the Scout discryes

The subject of their Hopes and Victories:

The wish'd for Fleets embay'd, in Harbour lye,

Unfit to fight, and more unfit to fly.

Triumphant Joy throughout the Navy flyes,

Eccho'd from Shore with Terrour and Surprize.

Strange Power of Noise! which at one simple sound,

At once shall some incourage, some confound.

In vain the Lyon tangl'd in the snare

With Anguish roars, and rends the trembling Air.

'Tis vain to struggle with Almighty Fate:

Vain and impossible the weak Debate.

The Mighty Booms, the Forts resist in vain,

The Guns with fruitless Force in Noise complain.

See how the Troops intrepidly fall on!

Wish for more Foes; and think they fly too soon.

With eager Fury to their Forts pursue,

And think the odds of Four to One too few,

The Land's first Conquer'd, and the Prize attends,

Fate beckens in the Fleet to back their Friends.

Despair suceeeds: They struggle now too late,

And soon submit to their prevailing Fate.

Courage is Madness when Occasion's past:

Death's the securest Refuge and the last.

And now the rolling Flames come threatning on,

And mighty streams of melted Gold run down.

The flaming Oar down to its Center makes,

To form new Mines beneath the Oazy Lakes.

Here a Galeon with Spicy Druggs inflam'd,

In Odoriferous folds of Sulphur stream'd.

The Gods of old no such Oblations knew,

Their Spices weak, and their Perfumes but few.

The frighted Spaniards from their Treasure fly,

Loth to forsake their Wealth, but loth to dye.

Here a vast Carrack flyes while none pursue,

Bulg'd on the Shore by her Distracted Crew:

There like a mighty Mountain she appears,

And groans beneath the Golden weight she bears.

Conquest perverts the Property of Friend,

And makes Men ruine what they can't defend.

Some blow their Treasure up into the Air,

With all the wild Excesses of Despair.

Strange Fate! that War such odd Events shou'd have;

Friends would destroy, and Enemies would save.

Others their Safety to their Wealth prefer,

And mix some small Descretion with their Fear.

Life's the best Gift that Nature can bestow;

The first that we receive, the last which we forego:

And he that's vainly Prodigal of Blood,

Forfeits his Sense to do his Cause no good.

All Desperation's the Effect of Fear;

Courage is Temper, Valour can't Despair.

And now the Victory's compleatly gain'd;

No Ships to Conquer now, no Foes remain'd.

The mighty Spoils exceed what e'er was known,

That Vanquish'd never lost, or Victor won.

So great, if Fame shall future Times remind,

They'll think she lyes, and Libels all Mankind.

Well may the Pious Queen New Anthems raise,

Sing Her own Fortunes, and Her Makers Praise;

Invite the Nation willing Thanks to pay:

And well may all the mighty Ones obey.

So may they sing, be always so preserv'd,

By Grace unwish'd, and Conquest undeserv'd.

Now let us Welcome Home the Conquering Fleet,

And all their well atton'd Mistakes forget:

Such high Success shou'd all Resentments drown'd,

Nothing but joy and welcom should be found.

No more their past Miscarriages reprove;

But bury all in Gratitude and Love.

Let their high Conduct have a just Regard,

And meaner Merit meet a kind Reward.

But now what Fruits of Victory remain?

To Heaven what Praise, what Gratitude to Man?

Let France sing Praise for shams of Victories,

And mock their Maker with Religious Lyes:

But England blest with thankful Hearts shall raise,

For mighty Conquests, mighty Songs of Praise.

She needs no false Pretences to deceive:

What all Men see, all Men must needs believe.

Our Joy can hardly run into Excess,

The well known Subject all our Foes confess:

We can't desire more, they can't pretend no less.

ANNE, like her Great Progenitor, sings Praise:

Like her she Conquers, and like her she Prayes:

Like her she Graces and Protects the Throne,

And counts the Lands Prosperity her own:

Like her, and long like her, be Bless'd her Reign,

Crown'd with new Conquests, and more Fleets from Spain.

See now the Royal Chariot comes amain,

With all the willing Nation in her Train,

With humble Glory, and with solemn Grace,

Queen in her Eyes, and Christian in her Face.

With Her, Her represented Subjects join;

And when she Prayes th' whole Nation says, Amen.

With Her, in Stalls the Illustrious Nobles sat,

The Cherubims and Seraphims of State:

ANNE like a Comet in the Center shone,

And they like Stars that circumsere the Sun.

She Great in them, and they as Great in Her;

Sure Heaven will such Illustrious Praises hear.

The crouding Millions Hearty Blessings pour:

Saint Paul ne're saw but one such Day before.

THE Poor Man's PLEA. IN Relation to all the Proclamations, Declarations, Acts of Parliament, &c. which have been, or shall be made, or publish'd, for a Reformation of Manners and suppressing Immorality in the Nation.

The PREFACE.

REformation of Manners is a Work so Honourable, and at this Time so absolutely necessary, that like the Reform of our Money it can be no longer delay'd.

The Ways by which the present Torrent of Vice has been let in upon the Nation, and by which it maintains the Tyranny it has usurp'd on the Lives of the Inhabitants, are too plain to be hid. The following Sheets aim at the Work, by leading to the most direct means, Viz. Reformation by Example. Laws are, in Terrorem Punishments, and Magistrates Compel and put a Force upon Mens Minds; but Example is Perswasive and Gentle, and draws by a Secret, Invisible, and almost Involuntary Power.

If there can be any Remedies proposed more proper to bring it to pass, they that know them would do well to bring them forth. In the mean time the Author thinks Conscience in the Minds of Men Impartially Consulted, will give a Probatum est to the following Proposal; and to that Judgment be refers all those who Object against it.

THE The Poor Man's PLEA.

IN searching for a proper Cure of an Epidemick Distemper, Physicians do tell us 'tis first necessary to know the Cause of that Distemper, from what Part of the Body, and from what ill Habit it proceeds; and when the Cause is discover'd, it is to be removed, that the Effect may cease of its self; but if removing the Cause will not work the Cure, then indeed they proceed to apply proper Remedies to the Disease it self, and the particular Part afflicted.

Immorality is without doubt the present reigning Distemper of the Nation: And the King and Parliament, who are indeed the proper Physicians, seem nobly inclin'd to undertake the Cure. 'Tis a Great Work, well worthy their utmost Pains: The Honour of it, were it once perfected, would add more Trophies to the Crown, than all the Victories of this Bloody War, or the Glories of this Honourable Peace.

But as a Person under the Violence of a Disease sends in vain for a Physician, unless he resolves to make use of his Prescription; so in vain does the King attempt to reform a Nation, unless they are willing to reform themselves, and to submit to his Prescriptions.

Wickedness is an Ancient Inhabitant in this Country, and 'tis very hard to give its Original.

But however difficult that may be, 'tis easy to look back to a time when we were not so generally infected with Vice as we are now; and 'twill seem sufficient to enquire into the Causes of our present Defection.

The Protestant Religion seems to have an unquestioned Title to the first introducing a strict Morality mong us; and 'tis but just to give the Honour of it, where 'tis so eminently due. Reformation of Manners has something of a Natural Consequence in it from Reformation in Religion For since the principles of the Protestant Religion disown the Indulgencies of the Roman Pontiff, by which a thousand Sins are, as Venial Crimes, bought off, and the Priest, to save God Almighty the trouble, can blot them out of the Account before it comes to his hand; common Vices lost their Charter, and men could not sin at so cheap a Rate as before. The Protestant Religion has in it self a Natural Tendency to Virtue, as a standing Testimony of its own Divine Original, and accordingly it has suppress'd Vice and Immorality in all the Countries where it has had a Footing: It has civiliz'd Nations, and reform'd the very Tempers of its Professors: Christianity and Humanity has gone hand in hand in the World; and there is so visible a difference between the other Civiliz'd Governments in the World, and those who now are under the Protestant Powers, that it carries its Evidence in it self.

The Reformation, begun in England in the days of King Edward the Sixth, and afterwards gloriously finished by Queen Elizabeth, brought the English Nation to such a degree of Humanity, and Sobriety of Conversation, as we have reason to doubt will hardly be seen again in our Age.

In King James the First's time, the Court affecting something more of Gallantry and Gaiety, Luxury got footing; and twenty Years Peace, together with no extraordinary Examples from the Court, gave too great Encouragement to Licentiousness.

If it took footing in King James the First's time, it took a deep Root in the Reign of his Son; and the Liberty given the Soldiery in the Civil War, dispers'd all manner of Prophanness throughout the Kingdom. That Prince, tho' very Pious in his own Person and Practice and had the Misfortune to be the first King of England, and perhaps in the World, that ever establish'd Wickedness by a Law: By what unhappy Council, or secret ill Fate he was guided to it, is hard to determine; but the Book of Sports, as it was called, that Book to tolerate the Exercise of all Sports and Pastimes on the Lord's-Day, tended more to the vitiating the Practice of this Kingdom, as to keeping that Day, than all the Acts of Parliament, Proclamations and Endeavours of future Princes has done, or ever will do, to reform it.

And yet the People of England express'd a general sort of an Aversion to that Liberty; and some, as if glutted with too much Freedom, when the Reins of Law were taken off, refused that Practice they allow'd themselves in before.

In the time of King Charles the Second, Lewdness and all manner of Debauchcry arriv'd to its Meridian: The Encouragement it had from the Practice and Allowance of the Court, is an invincible Demonstration how far the Influence of our Government extends in the Practice of the People.

The present King and his late Queen, whose Glorious Memory will be dear to the Nation as long as the World stands, have had all this wicked Knot to unravel. This was the first thing the Queen set upon while the King was engaged in his Wars abroad: She first gave all sorts of Vice a general Discouragement; and on the contrary, rais'd the value of Virtue and Sobriety by her Royal Example. The King having brought the War to a Glorious Conclusion, and settled an Honourable Peace, in his very first Speech to his Parliament proclaims a New War against Prophaneness and Immorality, and goes on also to discourage the practice of it by his Royal Example.

Thus the Work is begun nobly and regularly; and the Parliament, the General Representative of the Nation, follows this Royal Example, in enacting Laws to suppress all manner of Prophaneness, &c.

These are Great Things, and, well-improv'd, would give an undoubted Overthrow to to the Tyranny of Vice, and the Dominion Prophaneness has usurp'd in the hearts of Men.

But we of the Plebeii find our selves justly aggrieved in all this Work of Reformation; and this Reforming Rigor makes the real Work impossible: Wherefore we find our selves forced to seek Redress of our Grievances in the old honest way of Petitioning Heaven to relieve us: And in the mean time, we solemnly Enter our Protestation against the Vicious part of the Nobility and Gentry of the Nation; as follows:

First, We Protest, That we do not find, impartially enquiring into the matter, speaking of Moral Goodness, that you are not one jot better than we are, your Dignities, Estates, and Quality excepted. 'Tis true, we are all bad enough, and we are willing in good Manners to agree, that we are as wicked as you; but we cannot find, on the exactest Scrutiny, but that in the Commonwealth of Vice, the Devil has taken care to level Poor and Rich into one Class, and is fairly going on to make us all Graduates in the last Degree of Immorality.

Secondly. We do not find that all the Proclamations, Declarations, and Acts of Parliament yet made, have any effective Power to punish you for your Immoralities, as it does us. Now while you make Laws to punish us, and let your selves go free, tho' guilty of the same Vices and Immoralities, those Laws are unjust and unequal in themselves.

'Tis true, the Laws do not express a Liberty to you, and a Punishment to us; and therefore the King and Parliament are free, as King and Parliament, from this our Appeal; but the Gentry and Magistrates of the Kingdom, while they execute those Laws upon us the poor Commons, and themselves practising the same Crimes, in defiance of the Laws both of God and Man, go unpunish'd; This is the Grievance we protest against, as unjust and unequal.

Wherefore, till the Nobility, Gentry, Justices of the Peace, and Clergy, will be pleased either to Reform their own Manners, and suppress their own Immoralities, or find out some method and Power impartially to punish themselves when guilty, we Humbly crave Leave to Object against setting any Poor Man in the Stocks, or sending them to the House of Correction for Immoralities, as the most unequal and unjust way of proceeding in the World.

And now Gentlemen,

That this Protestation may not seem a little too Rude, and a Breach of Good Manners to our Superiours, ws crave Leave to subjoin our Humble Appeal to your selves; and will for once, knowing you as English Gentlemen to be Men of Honour, make you Judges in your own Case.

First, Gentlemen, We appeal to your selves, whether ever it be likely to perfect the Reformation of Manners in this Kingdom, without you; Whether Laws to punish us, without your Example also to influence us, will ever bring the Work to pass.

The first Step from a loose vicious Practice in this Nation was begun by King Edward the Sixth, backt by a Reform'd Clergy, and a Sober Nobility: Queen Elizabeth carried it on: 'Twas the Kings and the Gentry which first again Degenerated from that strict Observation of Moral Virtues, and from thence carried Vice on to that degree it now appears in. From the Court Vice took its Progress into the Country; and in the Families of the Gentry and Nobility it harbour'd, till it took heart under their Protection, and made a general Salley into the Nation; and We the poor Commons, who have been always easy to be guided by the Example of our Landlords and Gentlemen, have really been debauch'd into Vice by their Examples: And it must be the Example of you the Nobility and Gentry of the Kingdom, that must put a Stop to the Flood of Vice and Prophaneness which is broken in upon the Country, or it will never be done.

Our Laws against all manner of Vicious Practices are already very severe: But Laws are useless insignificant things, if the Executive Power which lies in the Magistrate be not exerted. The Justices of the Peace have the power to punish, but if they do not put forth that power, 'tis all one as if they had none at all: Some have possibly exerted this power; but whereever it has been so put forth, it has fallen upon us the poor Commons: These are all Cobweb Laws, in which the small Flies are catch'd, and great ones break thro'. My Lord Mayor has whipt about the poor Beggars, and a few scandalous Whores have been sent to the House of Correction; some Alehouse-keepers and Vintners have been fin'd for drawing Drink on the Sabbath day; but all this falls upon us of the Mob, the poor Plebeii, as if all the Vice lay among us; for we do not find the Rich Drunkard carri'd before my Lord Mayor, nor a Swearing Lewd Merchant. The man with a Gold Ring and Gay Cloaths, may Swear before the Justice, or at the Justice; may reel home through the open Streets, and no man take any notice of it; but if a poor man get drunk, or swears an Oath, he must to the Stocks without Remedy.

In the second place, We appeal to your selves, whether Laws or Proclamations are capable of having any Effect towards a Reformation of Manners, while the Benches of our Justices are infected with the scandalous Vices of Swearing and Drunkenness; while our Justices themselves shall punish a man for Drunkenness, with a God damn him, set him in the Stocks: And if Laws and Proclamations are useless in the Case, then they are good for nothing, and had as good be let alone as publish'd.

'Tis hard, Gentlemen, to be punish'd for a Crime, by a man as guilty as our selves; and that the Figure a man makes in the World, must be the reason why he shall not be liable to the Law: This is really punishing men for being poor, which is no Crime at all; as a Thief may be said to said to be hang'd, not for the Fact, but for being taken.

We further appeal to your selves, Gentlemen, to inform us, whether there be any particular reason why you should be allow'd the full Career of your corrupt Appetites, without the Restraint of Laws, while you your selves agree that such Offences shall be punished in us, and do really execute the Law upon the Poor People, when brought before you for the same things.

Wherefore that the Work of Reformation of Manners may go on, and be brought to Perfection, to the Glory of God, and the great Honour of the King and Parliament: That Debauchery and Prophaness, Drunkenness, Whoring, and all sorts of Immoralities may be suppress'd, we humbly propose the Method which may effectually accomplish so great a Work.

(1.) That the Gentry and Clergy, who are the Leaders of us poor ignorant people, and our Lights erected on high places to Guide and Govern us, would in the first place put a voluntary Force upon themselves, and effectually reform their own Lives, their way of conversing, and their common Behaviour among their Servants and Neighbours.

1. The Gentry. They are the Original of the Modes, and Customs, and Manners of their Neighbours; and their examples in the Countries especially are very moving. There are three several Vices, which have the principal Mannagement of the greatest part of Mankind, viz. Drunkenness, Swearing, and Whoring; all of them very ill becoming a Gentleman, however Custom may have made them Modish: Where none of these Three are in a House, there is certainly something of a Plantation of God in the Family; for they are such Epidemic Distempers, that hardly Humane Nature is entirely free from them.

1. Drunkenness that Brutish Vice; a Sin so sordid, and so much a Force upon Nature, that had God Almighty enjoyn'd it as a Duty, I believe many a Man would have ventur'd the loss of Heaven, rather than have have perform'd it. The Pleasure of it seems to be so secretly hid, that wild Heathen Nations know nothing of the matter; 'tis only discover'd, by the wise people of these Northern Countries, who are Proficients in Vice, Philosophers in Wickedness, who can extract a Pleasure to themselves in losing their Understanding, and make themselves Sick at Heart for their Diversion.

If the History of this well bred Vice was to be written, 'twould plainly appear that it begun among the Gentry, and from them was handed down to the poorer sort, who still love to be like their Betters. After the Restitution of King Charles the Second, when drinking the King's Health became the distinction between a Cavalier and a Roundhead, Drunkenness began its Reign, and it has Reign'd almost Forty Years: The Gentry caress'd this Beastly Vice at such a Rate, that no Companion, no Servant was thought proper unless he could bear a Quantity of Wine: and to this Day 'tis added to the Character of a Man, as an additional Title, when you would speak well of him, He is an Honest Drunken Fellow; as if his Drunkenness was a Recommendation of his Honesty. From the practice of this nasty Faculty, our Gentlemen have arriv'd to the teaching of it; and that it might be effectually preserv'd to the next Age, have very early instructed the Youth in it. Nay, so far has Custom prevail'd, that the Top of a Gentleman's Entertainment has been to make his Friend Drunk; and the Friend is so much reconcil'd to it, that he takes that for the effect of his Kindness, which he ought as much to be affronted at, as if he had kick'd him down Stairs: Thus 'tis become a Science: and but that the Instruction proves so easie, and the Youth too apt to learn, possibly we might have had a Colledge erected for it before now. The further Perfection of this Vice among the Gentry, will appear in two things; that 'tis become the Subject of their Glory, and the way of expressing their Joy for any publick Blessing. Jack, said a Gentleman of very high Quality, when after the Debate in the House of Lords, K. William was Voted into the Vacant Throne; Jack (says he) God damn ye, Jack, go home to your Lady, and tell her we have got a Protestant King and Queen; and go make a Bonfire as big as a House, and bid the Butler make ye all Drunk, ye Dog: Here was sacrificing to the Devil, for a Thanksgiving to God. Other Vices are committed as Vices, and Men act them in private, and are willing to hide them; but Drunkenness they are so fond of, that they will glory in it, boast of it, and endeavour to promote it as much as possible in others: 'Tis a Triumph to a Champion of the Bottle, to repeat how many Quarts of Wine he has Drank at a sitting, and how he made such and such Honest Fellows Drunk. Men Lye and Forswear, and hide it, and are asham'd of it, as indeed they have reason to do: But Drunkenness and Whoring are Accomplishments Men begin to value themselves upon, repeat them with Pleasure, and affect a sort of Vanity in the History; are content all the world should be Witnesses of their Intemperance, and have made the Crime a Badge of Honour to their Breeding and introduce the practice as a Fashion. And whoever gives himself the Trouble to Reflect on the Custom of our Gentlemen in their Families, encourageing and promoting this Vice of Drunkenness, among the poor Commons, will not think it a Scandal upon the Geutry of England, if we say, That the Mode of Drinking, as 'tis now practised, had its Original from the Practice of the Country-Gentlemen, and they again from the Court.

It may be objected, and God forbid it should not, That there are a great many of our Nobility and Gentlemen, who are Men of Honour and Men of Morals, and therefore this Charge is not universal. To which we answer, Tis universal for all that; because those very Gentlemen, tho' they are negatively clear as to the Commission of the Crimes we speak of, yet are positively guilty, in not executing that Power the Law has put into their hands, with an Impartial Vigour. For where was that Gentleman or Justice of the Peace ever yet found, who executed the Terms of the Law upon a Drunken, Swearing, Lewd Gentleman, his Neighbour, but the Quality of the Person has been a License to the open Exercise of the worst Crimes; as if there were any Baronets, Knights, or Squires in the next World; who because of those little steps Custom had raised them on, higher than their Neighbours, should be exempted from the Divine Judicature; or that, as Captain Vratz said, who was Hang'd for Murth'ring Esquire Thynn, God would show them some respect as they were Gentlemen.

If there were any reason why a Rich Man should be permitted in the publick Exercise of Open Immoralities, and not the poor Man, something might be said: But if there be any difference it lies the other way; for the Vices of a poor Man affect only himself; but the Rich Man's Wickedness affects all the Neighbourhood, gives offence to the Sober, and encourages and hardens the Lewd, and quite overthrows the weak Resolutions of such as are but indifferently fixed in their Virtue and Morality. If my own Watch goes false, it deceives me and none else; but if the Town Clock goes false, it deceives the whole Parish. The Gentry are the Leaders of the Mob; if they are Lewd and Drunken, the others strive to imitate 'em; if they Discourage Vice and Intemperance, the other will not be so forward in it, nor so fond of it.

To think then to effect a Reformation by punishing the Poor, while the Rich seem to Enjoy a Charter for Wickedness, is like taking away the Effect, that the Cause may cease.

We find some People very fond of Monopolizing a Vice, they would have all of it to themselves; they must, as my Lord Rochester said of himself, Sin like a Lord; little sneaking Sins won't serve turn; but they must be Lewd at a rate above the Common Size, to let the World see they are capable of it.

Our Laws seem to take no Cognizance of such, perhaps for the same reason that Lycurgus made no Law against Parricide, because he would not have the Sin named among his Citizens.

Now the poor Man sees no such Dignity in Vice, as to study Degrees; we are down-right in Wickedness, as we are in our Dealings; if we are Drunk, 'tis plain Drunkenness; Swearing, and Whoring, is all Blunderbus with us; we don't affect such Niceties in our Conversation; and the Justices use us accordingly; nothing but the Stocks, or the House of Correction is the Case, when we are brought before them; but when our Masters the Gentlemen come to their Refined Practice, and Sin by the Rules of Quality, we do not find any thing come of it but false Heraldry, the Vice is punish'd by the Vice, and the Punishment renews the Crime.

The Case in short is this; the Lewdness, Prophaneness, and Immorality of the Gentry, which is the main Cause of the General Debauchery of the Kingdom is not at all toucht by our Laws, as they are now Executed; and while it remains so, the Reformation of Manners can never be brought to pass, nor Prophaneness and Immorality Suppress'd; and therefore the punishing the Poor distinctly, is a Mock upon the good Designs of the King and Parliament; an Act of Injustice upon them to punish them, and let others as guilty go free; and a sort of Cruelty too, in taking the advantage of their Poverty to make them suffer, because they want Estates to purchase their Exemption.

We have some weak Excuses for this Matters, which must be considered: As,

(1.) The Justice of the Peace is a Passive Magistrate, till an Information be brought before him, and is not to take notice of any thing, but as it is laid in Fact, and brought to an Affidavit. Now if an Affidavit be made before a Justice, that such or such a man Swore, or was Drunk, he must, or cannot avoid Finding him; the Law obliges him to it, let his Quality be what it will; so that the Defect is not in the Law, nor in the Justice, but in the want of Information.

(2.) The Name of an Evidence or Informer is so scandalous, that to attempt to inform against a Man for the most open Breach of the Laws of Morality, is enough to denominate a man unfit for Society; a Rogue and an Informer are Synonimous in the Vulgar Acceptation; so much is the real Detection of the openest Crimes against God, and Civil Government, Discouraged and Avoided.

(3.) The Impossibility of the Cure is such, and the Habit has so obtain'd upon all Mankind, that it seems twisted with Human Nature, as an Appendix to Natural Frailty, which it is impossible to separate from it:

For Answer:

1. 'Tis true, the Justice of the Peace is in some respect a Passive Magistrate, and does not act but by Information, but such Information would be brought if it were encouraged; if Justices of of the Peace did acquaint themselves with their Neighbourhood, they would soon hear of the Immoralities of the Parish; and if they did impartially Execute the Law on such as offended, without respect of Persons they would soon have an Account of the Persons and Circumstances. Besides, 'tis not want of Information, but want of punishing what they have Information of. A Poor Man informs against a Great Man, the Witness is discouraged, the Man goes unpunish'd, and the Poor Man gets the Scandal of an Informer; and then 'tis but too often that our Justices are not Men of extraordinary Morals themselves; and who shall Inform a Justice of the Peace that such a Man Swore, when he may be heard to Swear himself as fast as another? Or who shall bring a Man before a Justice for being Drunk, when the Justice is so Drunk himself, he cannot order him to be set in the Stocks?

(2.) Besides, the Justice has a Power to punish any Fact he himself sees committed, and to enquire into any he hears of casually: and if he will stand still and see those Acts of Immorality committed before his Face, who shall bring a Poor Man before him to be punished? Thus I have heard a Thousand horrid Oaths Sworn on a Bowling-Green, in the presence of a Justice of the Peace, and he take no Notice of it, and go home the next hour, and set a Man in the Stocks for being Drunk.

As to the Scandal of Informing, 'tis an Error in Custom, and a great Sin against Justice; 'tis necessary indeed that all Judgment should be according to Evidence, and to discourage Evidence is to discourage Justice; but that a Man in Trial of the Morality of his Neighbour, should be shamed to appear, must have some particular cause.

(1.) It proceeds from the Modishness of the Vice; it has so obtain'd upon some Men Mens Practices, that to appear against what almost all Men approve, seems malicious, and has a certain prospect either of Revenge or of a Mercenary Wretch, that Informs meerly to get a Reward. 'Tis true, if no Reward be plac'd upon an Information, no Man will take the trouble; and again, if too great a Reward, Men of Honour shun the thing, because they scorn the Fee, and to inform meerly for the Fee has something of a Rascal in it too; and from these reasons arises the Backwardness of the People.

The very same Rich Men we speak of are the persons who discourage the Discovery of Vice by scandalizing the Informer; a Man that is any thing of a Gentleman scorns it, and the Poor still Mimick the Humour of the Rich, and hate an Informer as they do the Devil, 'Tis strange the Gentlemen should be asham'd to detect the Breach of those Laws, which they were not asham'd to make; but the very Name of an Informer has gain'd so black an Idea in the minds People, because some have made a Trade of informing against People for Religion, have misbehaved themselves, that truly 'twill be hard to bring any Man either of Credit or Quality to attempt it.

But the main thing which makes our Gentlemen backward in the prosecution of Vice, is their practicing the same Crimes themselves, and they have so much wicked Modesty and Generosity in them, being really no Enemies to the thing it self, that they cannot with any sort of Freedom punish in others what they practice themselves.

In the Times of Executing the Laws against Dissenters, we found a great many Gentlemen very Vigorous in Prosecuting their Neighbours; they did not stick to appear in Person to disturb Meetings, and demolish the Meeting-Houses, and rather than fail, would be Informers themselves; the reason was because they had also a dislike to the thing; but we never found a Dissenting Gentleman, or Justice of the Peace forward to do thus, because they approved of it. Now were our Gentlemen and Magistrates real Enemies to the Immoralities of this Age, did they really hate Drunkenness as a Vice, they would be forward and zealous to root the practice of it out of the Neighbourhood, they would not be backward or asham'd to detect Vice, to disturb Drunken Assemblies, to disperse those Plantations of Leachery, the Publick Bawdy Houses, which are almost as openly allowed as the Burdelloes in Italy. They would be willing to have all sorts of Vices Suppress'd, and glory in putting their hands to the Work; they would not be asham'd to appear in the detecting Debauchery, or afraid to embroil themselves with their Rich Neighbours. 'Tis Guilt of the same Fact which makes Connivance, and till that guilt be removed, the Gentlemen of England neither will or can indeed with any kind of Honour put their hands to the Reforming it in their Neighbours.

But I think 'tis easie to make it appear that this difficulty of Informing may be removed, and there need not be much occasion for that Scandalous Employment.

'Tis in the power of the Gentry of England to reform the whole Kingdom without either Laws, Proclamations, or Informers; and without their Concurrence, all the Laws, Proclamations, and Declarations in the World will have no Effect; the Vigour of the Laws consists in their Executive Power: Ten thousand Acts of Parliament signifie no more than One single Proclamation, unless the Gentlemen in whose hands the Execution of those Laws is placed, take care to see them duly made use of; and how can Laws be duly Executed-but by an impartial Distribution of equal Rewards, and Punishments, without Regard to the Quality and Degree of the Persons? The Laws push on the Justices now, and they take care to go no faster than they are driven; but would the Justices push on the Laws, Vice would fly before them, as Dust in the Wind, and Immoralities would be soon suppress'd; but it can never be expected that the Magistrates should push on the Laws to a free Suppression of Immoralities, till they Reform themselves, and their Great Neighbours Reform themselves, that there may be none to Punish, who are too big for the Magistrate to venture upon,

Would the Gentry of England decry the Modishness of Vice by their own Practice; would they but dash it ouf of Countenance by disowning it; that Drunkenness and Oaths might once come into difesteem, and be out of Fashion, and a Man be valued the less for them; that he that will Swear, and be Drunk, shall be counted a Rake, and not fit for a Gentleman's Company. This would do more to Reforming the rest of Mankind than all the Punishments the Law can inflict; the Evil encreased by Example, and must be Suppress'd the the same way. If the Gentry were thus Reform'd, their Families would be so too: No Servant would be Entertain'd, no Workman Employed, no Shopkeeper would be Traded with by a Gentleman, but such as like themselves, were sober and honest; a Lewd Vicious Drunken Footman must Reform or Starve, he would get no Service; a Servant once turn'd away for his Intemperance would be Entertain'd by no Body else; a Swearing Debauch'd Labourer or Workman must Reform, or no Body would Employ him; the Drunken Whoring Shopkeeper must grow Sober, or lose all his Customers, and be undone. Interest and Good Manners will reform us of the poorer sort, there would be no need of the Stocks or Houses of Correction; we should be Sober of Course, because we should be all Beggars else; and he that loved the Vice so dearly as to purchase it with the loss of his Trade and Employment, would soon grow too Poor for his Vice, and be forc'd to leave it by his own Necessities; there would be no need of Informers, a Vicious Fellow would be presently Notorious, he would be the Talk of the Town, every one wou'd slight and shun him for fear of being thought like him, by being seen in his Company: he would Expose himself, and would be Punish'd as unpitied as a Thief.

So that in short, the whole Weight of this Blessed Work of Reformation, lies on the Shoulders of the Gentry; they are the cause of our Defection, which being taken away, the Effect would cease of Course, Vice would grow Scandalous, and all Mankind would be asham'd of it.

(2.) The Clergy also ought not to count themselves exempted in this matter, whose Lives have been, and in some places still are so vicious and so loose, that 'tis well for England we are not subject to be much Priest-riddden.

'Tis a strange thing how it should be otherwise than it is with us the poor Commonalty, when the Gentry our Pattern, and the Clergy our Teachers are as Immoral as we. And then to consider the Coherence of the thing; the Parson preaches a thundering Sermon against Drunkenness, and the Justice of Peace sets my poor Neighbour in the Stocks, and I am like to be much the better for either, when I know perhaps that this same Parson and this same Justice were both Drunk together the Night before.

It may be true, for ought we know, that a Wicked Parson may make a good Sermon; and the Spanish Proverb may be true of the Soul as well as the Body, If the Cure be but wrought, let the Devil be the Doctor; but this does not take with the down-right ignorant People in the Country; a poor Man gets Drunk in a Country Ale House, Why, are you not asham'd to be such a Beast, says a good honest Neighbour to him the next day? Asham'd, says the Fellow! Why should I be asham'd? Why, there was Sir John — and Sir Robert — and the Parson, and they were all as Drunk as I. And why a Beast, Pray? I heard Sir Robert — say, That

He that Drinks least,

Drinks most like a Beast.

A Vicious Parson that preaches well, but lives ill, may be like an unskilful Horseman, who opens a Gate on the wrong side, and lets other Folks through, but shuts himself out. This may be possible, but it seems most reasonable to think they are a means by that sort of living, to hinder both themselves and others; and would the Gentry and Clergy of England but look back on the Guilt that really lies on them, as Gentlemen by whose Example so great a part of Mankind has been led into, and encouraged in the Progress of Vice, they would find Matter of very serious reflection.

This Article of the Clergy may seem to lie in the Power of their Superiors to rectify, and therefore may be something more feasible than the other; But the Gentry are Sui juris, can no way be reduced but by their own voluntary practice. We are in England exceedingly govern'd by Modes and Customs. The Gentry may effectually Suppress Vice, would they but put it out of Fashion; but to Suppress it by Force seems impossible.

The Application of this rough Doctrine is in short both to the Gentry and Clergy, Physicians Heal your selves; if you leave off your Drunkenness and Lewdness first, if we do not follow you, then set us in the Stocks, and send us to the House of Correction, and punish us as you please; if you will leave off Whoring first, then Brand us in the Foreheads, or Transport or Hang us for Fornication or Adultery, and you are welcome; but to preach against Drunkenness immediately after an Evening's Debauch; to Correct a poor Fellow for Swearing with the very Vice in your Mouths; these are the unjustest ways in the World, and have in themselves no manner of tendency towards the Reformation of Manners, which is the true Design of the Law.

'Tis acknowledg'd there are in England a great many Sober, Pious, Religious Persons both among the Gentry and Clergy, and 'tis hoped such cannot think themselves Libell'd or Injur'd in this Plea; if there were not, Laws would never have been made against those Vices, for no men make Laws to punish themselves; 'tis design'd to reflect upon none but such as are Guilty, and on them no farther than to put them in mind how much the Nation owes its present Degeneracy to their folly, and how much it is in their Power to Reform it again by their Example; that the King may not publish Proclamations, nor the Parliament make Laws to no purpose; but that we might live in England once more like Christians, and like Gentlemen, to the Glory of God, and the Honour of the present King and Parliament, who so publickly have attemped the Great Work of Reformation among us, tho' hitherto to so little purpose.

AN ENQUIRY INTO THE Occasional Conformity OF DISSENTERS, IN Cases of Preferment.

Preface to Mr. HOW.

SIR,

THese Sheets are address'd to you, because the Author, with Submission, thinks they something more nearly concern you, than ordinary:

- 1. As you are, not unjustly, esteemed one of the most Learned and Judicious of the Dissenting Ministry. And

- 2. As you have more immediate Relation to our present Lord-Mayor, who is or has been a Member of the Church of Christ under your Charge.

The Author has carefully avoided Personal Reflections, and hopes he has no where exceeded the Rules of Charity or Good Manners.

The Treatise is individually the same which the Author publish'd in the Mayoralty of Sir Humphry Edwin; the Address by way of Preface, being only left out.

The Debate was then young, and the Practice of this Scandalous Conformity was new: Sir John Shorter being the first Instance of it. But it is now growing a received Custom, to the great Scandal of the Dissenters in general, the Offence of such whose Consciences forbid them the same Latitude, and the Stumbling of those who being before weak and irresolute, are Led aside by the Eminency and Frequency of Examples.

Sir, If you knew the Author, you would easily be satisfied that the Reason of this Preface, is not that he covets to engage in Controversy with a Person of your Capacity and Learning, being altogether unfit for such a Task, and no way a Match to your Talent that way.

But he desires, in the Name of himself, and a great many honest good Christians, who would be glad to see this Case decided, That you will by your self, or some other Hand, as you please, declare to the World, Whether this Practice of Alternate Communion be allowed, either by your Congregation in particular, on the Dissenters in general.

And if not so allow'd, then he conjures you by the Honour you owe to your Profession, and the Tenderness you have for the Weakness of others; by the regard you have to God's Honour, and the Church you serve, That such Proceedings may receive their due Censure, tho the Persons wear the Gay Cloaths and the Gold Ring; that the Sincerity and Purity of Dissenting Protestants may be vindicated to the World both in their Discipline as well as Doctrine; and that without Respect of Persons.

If on the other hand it be allow'd, 'tis desired it may be defended by such Arguments as you think convenient; which the Author promises, if desir'd, never to reply to; or if you give him that Liberty, shall do it so, as you shall easily see is in order only to be inform'd, and always suitable to the Respect which is due to your Person; for whom none has a greater Esteem.

If none of these Requests shall be granted, the World must believe, 〈…〉That Dissenters do Allow themselves to Practice what they cannot Defend.

Your very Humble Servant. D. F.

A DISCOURSE UPON Occasional Conformity.

WHEN I review the Past Times, and look back upon the various Scenes which they present us, as to Ecclesiastical Transactions within this Kingdom, there seems nothing more strange than the Turns we have had from Popish to Regal Supremacy, from the Romish Religion to Reform'd, from Reform'd back again to Romish, and then to Reformed again, and so on thro' several Degrees of Reformation, and back again from those Degrees to the first Steps of Reformation, and then forward again.

King Henry the 8th, a Prince of a haughty Spirit, disdaining the Insolence with which his Predecessors were treated by the Popes, gave the first Shock to the Roman Power in these Kingdoms. I won't say he acted from any principles of Conscience, whatever his Ambition and Interest led him to pretend; but that was the Gloss, as it is in most Cases of Publick Revolutions. However it was, having satisfi'd his Pride by subduing the Suppremacy of the Pope, and establishing his own; his Interest next guided him to the Suppression of Abbies and Monastries. The horrible Vices which were protected, as well as practiced in those Nests of Superstition, giving his pretence of Piety the larger Scope; and I'll for once be so free with the Character of that Prince, as to suppose what to me seems plain, that neither This Religion, or That, were of much Moment in his Thoughts, but his Interest, as the Sequel made plain, by the Seizure he made of the Revenues of the Church.

And yet the Justice of Providence seems very conspicuous in that point, That those Houses, who under the specious pretences of Religion and extraordinary Devotion, had amassed to themselves vast Revenues to the Impoverishing many Families, and in the mean time secretly practiced most unheard of Wickedness, should under the same pretence of Zeal and Piety be suppressed and impoverished by a Person, who meerly to serve his own Glory, triumph'd over them, pretending, Jehu like, to shew his Zeal for the Lord.

Some do assure us, That the Eyes of this Pince were really open'd as to the Point of Religion; and that had he liv'd longer, he would most effectually have establish'd the Reformation in his time; but God who gave him that light, if he had it, however he might accept his Intention, as he did that of David's Building his House, yet he reserv'd the Glory of the performance to his Son.

King Edward the 6th, of whom wondrous things are spoken in all our English Writers, and more than we need suppose should be literally true; yet was without doubt, a Prince of the strictest Piety, not only that ever reign'd, but that ever liv'd, perhaps, since the Days of Josidh, whose Parallel our Writers say he was.

The Reformation began in his hand; not but that the Protestant Religion had been received in England many years before, by the preaching of John Wickliff, William Tindall, and others, and had many professors, and those such who gallantly offered their Lives in defence of the Truth.

But it got but little ground, for Religion has but few Votaries, while all its professors must also be Confessors, and while Exile or Martyrdom is all the prospect of Advantage to be got by it.

None will dare to be Dissenters in times of Danger, but such whose Consciences are so awaken'd that they dare not be otherwise.

But in the hands of this young Prince, the great work was begun, and in a shorter time than could be imagin'd, was finish'd and establish'd; the Romanists fled or conformed; for we find but very few had an Inclination to Martyrdom if it had been put upon them. Some indeed to show the Nature of their Religion, Pleaded for Baal, and Rebell'd, stirring up the Ignorant People to Murther their Gideon for throwing down the Altars of Baal, but like the Ephramites of old, their Shiboleth was their undoing.

God, who thought fit to discover the Levity of those who had only Conform'd, and not Reform'd, who, in exemplum Regis, had took up this as they would have done any Religion, and also for the Tryal and Glory of his Church, suffer'd all this great Fabrick, however of his own Working, to be overthrown at the Death this good King, and a Deluge of Cruelty and Popery overwhelm'd the People in the Reign of the Queen, his Sister.

But Popery found more Dissenters than the Reformation had done; and the Impression Religion had made on the minds of those who had sincerely Embrac'd it, was not so easily Defac'd as the pretended Reformation of others; For the Glosses Men had put on their Actions, only as a cover from common Observation, was soon Discover'd, when the Safety of owning their Old principles render'd those Outsides no longer needful, but where the True Religion had got footing in the Mind, it was still the same, whatever alterations of Times might meke it Dangerous, and yet all People did not Burn; but some being persecuted in one City, fled to another, and Germany especially was a Sanctuary for the Distressed English Protestants, that Country having been before hand with us in the Reformation.

'Twas here that our Exil'd Clergy having convers'd with the Learned Reformers abroad, and particularly with John Calvin, found, that tho' they were reform'd indeed from the Gross Errors of Popery and Superstition, there was yet several things which might be further and further Reform'd; and being willing to arrive to the greatest Perfection they were capable of in Religion, (that as near as possible they might pursue the great Example of Christ Jesus, whose Name they profess'd, and for whom they cou'd most gloriously die,) they Corrected in themselves those things which they saw needful, and by Letters to their Brethren in England communicated their Opinions, with their Reasons, exhorting them to go on unto perfection as they had begun

Some of the most Zealous for Piety and Holiness of Life, rejected this Motion; and Others as Zealous and Pious, clos'd with it; and the Disputes were carried so far sometimes, as to Invade the Charity of one another, an humble Acknowledgment of which you have in a most Christian Reconciling Letter from Bishop Ridley to Bishop Hooper, two of the most Glorious Triumphant Martyrs that ever confest the truth of Christ at the Stake.

For the present, the Fire of the Persecution (as the Greater Light obscures the Less, extinguish'd that of Dissention. But when Queen Elizabeth rescu'd the Protestant Religion, and the Church enjoy'd its Peace again, the Debate reviv'd: But the first Establishment of King Edward obtain'd so on the Minds of Men, that the further Reformation was rejected. The other Party being not at all convinc'd, tho' over-rul'd, submitted their Persons to the Laws, but not their Opinion; affirming, "That 'twas the Duty of every Christian, to endeavour to serve God with the greatest Purity of Worship as was possible; and that this was the purest Worship which came nearest to the Divine Institution, which they believ'd the establish'd Liturgy did not, and therefore in Conscience they must be Dissenters.

It must be own'd, That the Original Authors of these Disputes were Learned, Devout, and singularly Pious, strict in Conversation to excess, if that be possible, and from thence in a sort of happy Derision, were call'd Puritans; of whom I shall say nothing, but leave for a Record the last Speech of a Famous Foreigner, who had seen the way of living among those Dissenters, and speaking of the Words of Balaam, Let me Die the Death of the Righteous, and let my latter end be like his, cry'd Out,‘Sit Anima Mea cum Puritanis Anglicanis. ’

I shall not take upon me to observe the Difference between these Primitive Dissenters and Our Present, which is too plain; nor to dispute the Substance of the Point in Debate between them and the Establisht National Church.

I shall only observe, That the Reasons for the present Dissenters Separation from the Establisht Church, are said to be exactly the same they were then; and the present Dissenters are the Successors of those first, as the present Conformists are the Successors of the first Reformers under King Edward the Sixth, and Queen Elizabeth.

I must acknowledge that it fares with the Church of England, and with the Dissenters both, as it has always far'd with Christ's Church in the whole World; That while Supprest and Persecuted, their Professors were few, and their Profession more severe; but when a Religion comes to be the Mode of the Country, so many painted Hypocrites get into the Church who are not by their Voices to be distinguish'd, that Guile is not to be seen, till it arrive to Apostacy. The whole Ecclesiastical History, from the first Century of the Christian Church, is full of Instances to confirm this, That the Prosperity of the Church of Christ has been more fatal to it, than all the Pesecution of its Enemies.

I am now brought down to the present Time, when the Dissenting Protestant is sheltered by the Laws and protected from the Violence which he suffered in the Late Reigns, under the Arbitrary Commands of such State Ministers, who strove to dash the whole Protestant Interest to pieces by its own weight; and nothing is more apparent to those who are any thing acquainted with the late Management of Affairs in this Land, than that the Court used both Parties alternately, as Policy and Occasion directed, to Suppress and Destroy one another; that the whole House, which being so divided, cou'd not stand, might at last fall of it self.

But our Eyes are at last opened, the Name of Protestant is now the common Title of an Englishman, the Church of England extends her Protection to the tender Consciences of her Weaker Brethren, knowing that all may be Christians, tho' not alike inform'd, and the Dissenter extends his Charity to the Church of England, believing that in his due time, God shall reveal even this unto them. If this is not, I wish this were the Temper of both Parties; and I am sure it is already the Temper of some of each Side, which few are of the Wisest, most Pious, and most Judicious.

But while Frailty and Infirmity are Essential to Humanity, and Pride and Hypocrisy are the two Regnant Vices of the Church, this good Spirit cannot be Universal, and we do not expect it.

But there is a sort of Truth, which all Men owe to the Principles they profess, and generally speaking, all Men pay it; a Turk is a Turk zealously and entirely; an Idolater is an Idolater, and will serve the Devil to a tittle: None but Protestants halt between God and Baal; Christians of an Amphibious Nature, who have such preposterous Consciences, as can believe one Way of Worship to be right, and yet serve God another way themselves; This is a strange thing in Israel! All the Histories of Religion in the World do not shew such a Case: 'Tis like a Ship with her Sails hal'd some back and some full: 'Tis like a Workman that Builds with one Hand, and pulls down with t'other: 'Tis like a Fisherman, who catches Fish with one Hand, and throws them into the Sea with another: 'Tis like every thing which signifies nothing. To say a Man can be of two Religions, is a Contradiction, unless there be two Gods to Worship, or he has two Souls to saue.

Religion is the sacred Profession of the Name of God; serving him, believing in him, expecting from him; and like the God it refers to, 'tis in one and the same Object, one and the same thing perfectly indivisible and inseparable there is in it no Neuter Gender, no Ambiguous Article, God or Baal; Mediums are impossible.

As to the different Modes and Ways, which are the Circumstantials of this Sacred Thing I call Religion; I won't say, but that as Ships take different Courses at Sea, yet to the best of their Skill, keeping to the direct Rules of Navigating by the Compass, they may arrive at the same Port; so Christians taking different Methods in the serving this God, yet going to the best of their Judgments by the direct Rules of the Scripture, may arrive at the same Heaven; but this is nothing at all to the Case; for no Ship would arrive at any Port that sailed two ways together, if that were possible; nor no man can serve One God, and at the same time hold two Opinions. There is but one Best, and he that gives God two Bests, gives him the Best and the Worst, and one Spoils t'other, till both are good for nothing.

I have said already, that both the Church of England, and the Dissenter, suffer in their Reputation for the mixt Multitudes of their Members, which is occasion'd by their present Prosperity: If a Third Party were to tyrannize over them both, we should see then who were Professors, and who were Confessors; but now it cannot be: Wherefore, I think 'twere well to put both Sides in mind of one thing, which they are bound mutually to observe; and that is, That the Personal Miscarriages of any particular Person or Member, is not really any Reflection upon the Religion they profess, nor ought not to be so accounted, unless it be where such Miscarriages are the direct Dictates of the Doctrines they teach; and thus I would be understood in the present Case. Wherefore I shall give my Essay as to what I understand a Real Dissenting Protestant is, or ought to be.

He who Dissents from an Establish'd Church on any account, but from a real Principle of Conscience, is a Politick, not a Religious Dissenter. To explain my self; He who Dissents from any other Reasons, but such as these, That he firmly believes the said Established Church is not of the purest Institution, but that he can really serve God more agreeable to his Will, and that accordingly 'tis his Duty to do it so, and no otherwise. Nay, he that cannot Dye, or at least desire to do so, rather than Conform, ought to Conform. Schism from the Church of Christ is, doubtless, a great Sin, and if I can avoid it, I ought to avoid it, but if not, the Cause of that Sin carries the Guilt with it.

But if I shall thus Dissent, and yet at the same time Conform; by Conforming I deny my Dissent being lawful, or by my Dissenting I damn my Conforming as sinful.

Nothing can be lawful and unlawful at the same time; if it be not lawful for me to Dissent, I ought to Conform; but if it be unlawful for me to Conform, I must Dissent; several Opinions may at the same time consist in a Country, in a City, in a Family, but not in one entire Person, that is impossible.

To come to the point; there are Dissenters who are separated from the Church of England, and join'd in Communion with Dissenting Churches or Congregations. They have appear'd Zealous, Conscientious, and Constant; have born the Reproaches and Inconveniences of their Party, nay, suffer'd Persecution, and Loss of Estates and Liberty for the Cause: And who could have so little Charity as to doubt the Sincerity of their Profession? And yet these Persecuted, Suffering Dissenters, to make themselves room in the Publick Advancements, and Glittering Gawdy Honours of the Age, shall Conform to that which they refus'd under all those Disadvantages to do before. And which is worse than all this; hear O Heavens! as soon as the present Honour is attain'd, the present Advantage made, they return to the former Circumstances again, and are freely receiv'd, a double Crime, as having done no Evil.

I know not, I profess, what these Persons can say for themselves, and therefore cannot pretend to Answer their Objections; but I cannot omit one Answer which some People give for them, viz. That this is no Conformity in Point of Religion, but done as a Civil Action, in Obedience to the Laws of the Land, which have made it a necessary Characteristick Quality, for admittance into publick Employments, which they think it their Duty to accept in order to serve their Country, which they doubly perform by Executing those Offices to the publick Interest, and by excluding those who would otherwise get into those places, and betray their Country and their Liberties.

I have never met with any considerable Excuse made for this fast and loose Game of Religion, but this, and this I desire to consider a little particularly.

1. That this is no Conformity in Point of Religion, but done as a Civil Action. How this can be possible remains to be determined. 'Tis true, the Morality of an Action consists in its End; but I cannot conceive that an Action purely and originally Religious, such as the Solemn Ordinances of God's Worship, can be made Civil Actions by any End, Design, Will, or Intention of Man whatsoever. 'Tis true, an Oath, which is a calling God to witness, is an Action both Civil and Religious, but still that was appointed and instituted to that end, as is expresly noted, Heb. Naaman's bowing in the House of Rimmon; to which the Prophet answered, Go in Peace, which is understood as a permission, is a thing still different; for Naaman only bowed for the Conveniency or State of the King, at the same time publickly disowning the Worship, as Interpreters are of Opinion; besides, bowing the Head, tho' it may be a customary Act of Worship at that place, yet is no Act confin'd to Worship only, and instituted and directed so by the God who is Worshipped, but is an Act us'd in Common Salutations. Thus we kneel to God, and to the King; but Sacraments are things appropriated by the Divine Institution of God himself, as things which have no other Signification or Import but what is Divine: Had Naaman desir'd to be excused in offering Sacrifices to the Idol Rimmon, the Prophet would hardly have bid him go in peace. Some Actions are not Civil or Religious, as they are Civilly or Religiously perform'd, but as they are Civil or Religious in themselves; for some Religious Actions are so entirely such, that they cannot without a horrid invasion of the Soveraignty of the Institutor be appropriated to any other use; and such are in especial manner, the Two Sacraments instituted by Christ, such was, before Christ, the Sacrifices by Fire; And the Judgments of God on Nadab and Ahihu, for attempting to offer Sacrifice with strange Fire, stands as a terrible Instance of what we ought to think is the Will of God in this matter.

Further, speaking directly of the Sacraments, Are they not the same thing, tho' differently Administred in the establish'd Church, or in a dissenting Church? and how can you take it as a Civil Act in one place, and a Religious Act in another? This is playing-Bopeep with God Almighty, and no Man can tell of them when they are about a Civil Action, and when about a Religious. But to answer this pretence at once, Sacraments as Sacraments are Religious Acts, and can be no other, if you do not take it as a Sacrament the Case differs, but how can you say you do not take it as a Sacrament? An Oath is to be taken in the Sense of the Imposer, and a Sacrament, which is a Recognition of the most Sacred of Oaths, must be also taken in the Sense of the Imposer. If the Person Administring declar'd at the Administration, He did not give it as a Sacrament, but only give you a bit of Bread and Draught of Wine as a Friend, or the like, this was something; but can a Minister deliver the Bread to you, and say, The Body of our Lord Jesus Christ, &c. and you Kneeling with Reverence take it as such, and repeat the Responses at the Communion, and say Amen to the Prayer, and say 'tis a Civil Action. This is such Bantering with Religion, as no Modest Christian can think of without Horror.

2. Another part of the Apology is, That without it they cannot be admitted into Publick places of Trust; and if they were not admitted, such will get in as will betray their Country and Liberties, and they do it purely to secure their Country, which they think their Duty.

These are Patriots indeed, that will damn their Souls to save their Countrey; a sort of a Publick Spirit hardly to be found in the World, and indeed a Non-entity in it self, for 'tis a Mistake; the Gentlemen who make this Answer, put the case wrong. For I would desire such to Answer a few Questions. ear

If the Service of their Country be so d•…e to them, pray why should they not chuse to expo their Bodies and Estates for that Service, rather than their Souls?

The Penalty of the Law in accepting the Publick Employments is wholly Pecuniary; the difference lies here, they chuse the Trespassing on their Consciences, before the hazard of their Estates, as the least Evil; for 'tis plain, any Man who will suffer the Penalty, or run the Risque of it, which is all one, may excuse the conformity; for the Lord does not say, you shall so and so Conform, but if you do not Conform, you shall incur such and such Penalties; any Man that will incur the Penalty, may commit the Trespass.

So that all this Compliance is not, To be admitted to Places, that they may be able to serve their Country, but to save the Five hundred pounds and other Penalties of that Act.

2. Why, if we believe the Power of God to be Omnipotent, should we imagine that he is not able to protect our Country and Liberties, without our perpetrating so wicked an Act to secure them, as doing Evil that Good may come, which is expresly forbidden.

But we are told again, This is in it self no Sinful Act, and therefore it is not doing Evil. This is tacitly answered before; tho' 'tis not a Sinful Act in it self, Yet 'tis either a Sinful Act in a Dissenter, or else his Dissenting before was a Sinful Act. For if he is satisfied he does well in Conforming now, why did he not before? There is but one Answer for that, which is, He is otherwise convinced; to which I reply, If that were true, he would then as a Convert continue in this New Communion; but 'tis evident the same Persons return immediately to the former Profession as Dissenters, and they can have no such Excuse unless it be, that they were convinc'd and reconvinc'd, and then convinc'd again.

Some have the Folly to argue against the Law it self, as a most Notorious Imposition upon the Consciences of Man, by making the Sacred Institutions of Christ a Drudge to Secular Interest, and a Cause of mens Sins, by leading them into Tempation; I could say enough to vindicate that part, tho I am no more reconcil'd to that Law, than other Men, but 'tis remote to our Argumnet: 'Tis an Act of Parliament, and what is so, is of every Man's own doing, and therefore 'tis just every one shou'd comply with the Terms, or suffer the Penalty; but here is no Penalty, if no Crime; if no Preferments are sought, no Honours accepted, there is no Crime; if Self denial was as practicable as Self advancement, here is no need of the Crime. So that they who do this, seek the Crime, that is the first Sin; then Morgage their Consciences to avoid the Penalty, and so add one Sin to another. But we are told by some, 'tis not against their Consciences, they hope both Parties are Good Christians, there are differences between them which they don't understand nor meddle with, and their Consciences are very well satisfied to Communicate with either.

I would ask such, if their Consciences would serve to Communicate with the Church, why did they Separate? For Communicating with the Dissenter, is not an Occasional or Casual thing, but an open declar'd breaking off from the Church Establisht. Now no Man can be said to separate from, and joyn to a thing at the same time; if your Conscience is satisfied in Joyning, it cannot be satisfied in Separating, unless you can suppose your Conscience to be satisfied and dissatisfied both together. If you have a Conscience of any Religion at all, it must be of some Religion or other; if of this, it cannot be of that, if of sent and Approve, are different Acts, and can never be fixt upon the same Object at the same time; as for a Man, Passively Religious, that can Communicate any where, that Man may from the same Principle, and with far less Guilt Communicate no where, for such a Man, in down-right English, has Prostituted the little Religion he had, if ever he had any, to his Interest, and may be Turk, Jew, Papist, or any thing.

The latter part of the Charge leads me to consider another Point, which relates to the Assemblies of the Dissenters, who admit, and by consequence approve this way of proceeding. I do not pretend to examine by what Methods such particular Churches do procced. And I would be as tender as possible in making Reflections. I wish they would be as Charitable in censuring this Reproof.

I do think, with Submission, 'tis impossible to prove that any Person, whose Case the foregoing Paragraph reaches, can be receiv'd again into Church-Communion in a Dissenting Assembly upon any other Terms, than as a Penitent. I have heard of some, who have been said to have leave from their Ministers for this Matter; if so, they have assum'd some Dispensing Authority, which I believe does not appertain to the Ministerial Function, nor is not contain'd in the Mission of our Saviour. But I do not affirm, That any such thing has been really allow'd.

As to the Relation of Churches, and the Members thereof, one to another, as the Dissenters now Establish'd them; I am sure, the allowance of any Member in a Promiscuous Communion with the Church of England and the Dissenter at the same time, is not pretended to be allow'd, nor is it consistent with it self. 'Tis Preposterous, and Excentrick, and is Destructive of the very Foundation of the Dissenters Principles, as is already noted, concerning Schisms in the Church. In this Case, Charity can heal nothing, nor help nothing; 'tis of absolute necessity that one Man be but of one side, at one and the same time. Either the Conformist will mar the Dissenter, or the Dissenter will mar the Conformist. For if I shall be admitted into the Communion of the Dissenter, and of the Church together; then the Dissenter must have some other Reason for being a Dissenter, than Purity of Worship.

Methinks Men should seem what they are; if a Man Dissent from the Church, let him do so; and his Principle being well grounded for such Dissent, let him hold it; if not well-grounded, let him leave it; if he cannot suffer one way, let him suffer another; and why should we not be as honest to God as our Country.

The Motives to serve our Country are strong, but there are ways to do it without such a Violation of all our Principles and Profession; if not, trust God's Providence with the Issue, who never wants Agents to preserve and deliver his People when his time is at hand; and you can have small hope to expect that the Office and Trust you shall Execute, shall receive any Assistance from his Providence, when the first Step into it, is made by offering the greatest Affront to his Honour, and committing the vilest Act of Perfidy in the World.

But if the gay Prospect of a great Place, tempt any Person beyond the Power that God's Grace is pleas'd to assist them with, in that way let him abide, and not be re-admitted, because of his Gold Ring, and Fine Apparel, without a Penitent Acknowledgement. The Dissenters in England can never pretend to be Dissenters upon the mere Principle of Purity of Worship, as I have related in the beginning of this Discourse, if such shall be receiv'd as blameless into their Communion, who have deserted them upon the occasion of Preferment, and have made the Sacred Institutions of Christ Jesus, become Pimps to their Secular Interest, and then wipe their Mouths, and sit down in the Church, and say, They have done no Evil.

'Tis also an Intolerable Affront to the Church of England, reflecting upon its Doctrine as well as Practice; to make use of the Church for a Cover to fence them against the Laws, at the same time continuing to disown its Communion, as a thing not fit to be continued in.

And yet the Church of England is in the right to receive such of the Dissenters as shall come to them without the Ceremony of Recognition, because it is agreeable to the Notion of a National Church, which they profess to be. But Dissenters are bound to justifie their Separation from them, or else their whole Constitution falls to the Ground. Now, how a Separation and a Conformity are Consistent, is to me an Inexplicable Riddle.

I question not here the Lawfulness of the Dissenters Separation; it is not the business of this Discourse to define it; and I am as careful as I can in making Reflections upon either; but I am bold to affirm, That no Dissenting Church can with lawful Cause Separate from the Church of England, Establish Private Churches or Communions, and at the same times allow the Members to Conform to the Establish'd Church too: This is incongruous, and one must destroy the other. From whence I think it becomes the Dissenters, if they would maintain the Doctrine they teach; if they would have us believe they Dissent purely on the honest Principles of Conscience, and Purity of Worship, with such a one, No, not to Eat. And it is not sufficient that the Offender a Lord Mayor, or any greater Person; unless he would be Lord Mayor without a Breach of the Sacred Relation he had entred into, he should be dealt with in that Case, as the meanest Member of such a Society.

On the other hand, if a Man be call'd upon to be a Magistrate, and has Courage enough to follow the Impartial Dictates of his Conscience, a Query lies before him, What shall he do?

The Case is plain; Either refuse the Honour, or run the Risque. The first indeed is the plainest and easiest Way, and the Ground of it is good, for he whose Concience Dictates to him that the Terms are Sinful, may refuse the Call; for Preferments and Honours are a Bait that some have refused on meer Points of Speculative Philosophy; and 'tis hard, Christianity shou'd not carry a Man as far. Well, but perhaps a Man has a mind to be a Sheriff or a Lord Mayor, and is a Dissenter; or perhaps he really thinks 'tis his Indispensable Duty to serve his Country, if he is call'd to that, or the like Office; or perhaps he thinks 'tis a Duty he owes his Family, to advance his Children, and the like, and he is a Profest Dissenter: What shall he do? Let him boldly run the Risque, or openly and honestly Conform to the Church, and neither be asham'd of his Honour, nor of his Profession; such a Man all Men will Value, and God will own: He need not fear carying the Sword to a Conventicle, or bringing the Conventicle to his own House. But to make the matter a Game, to dodge Religions, and go in the Morning to Church, and in the Afternoon to the Meeting; to Communicate in private with the Church of England, to save a Penalty, and then go back to the Dissenters and Communicate again there: This is such a Retrograde Devotion, that I can see no colour of pretence for in all the Sacred Book.

I have heard, indeed, that some, who are Ministers of Dissenting Churches do, or did at the same time Communicate with the Church of England. I do not dispute how far a Minister may Conform as a Layman, tho' he cannot as a Clergy-man; but how any Dissenting Minister can Conform as a Lay-man, and at the same time execute a Pastoral Charge over a Congregation, whom he teaches to Separate from the Church in a Lay-Communion, I cannot imagine.

'Tis not as I have already noted, Conformity or Nonconformity at the same time, in one and the same Person, that is the Point; and doing this for a Secular End, to save a Penalty, and privately; and then, as being asham'd of it, to go back and sit down as not having done it at all; and a Church-Society admitting this without taking notice of it; these are the Contradictions I must upon, and rather wish, than expect to see rectified.

AN ENQUIRY INTO Occasional Conformity. Shewing that the DISSENTERS Are no Way Concern'd in it.

HE that Opposes his own Judgment against the Current of the Times, ought to be back'd with unanswerable Truths; and he that has that Truth on his Side, is a Fool, as well as a Coward, if he is afraid to own it because of the Currency or Multitude of other Mens Opinions.

'Tis hard for a Man to say, all the World is mistaken but himself; but if it be so who can help it?

But since 'tis not likely a Single Vote shou'd prevail upon Espous'd Errors, in an Age when every one is so fond of themselves, he that starts Truth by himself must expect the World will stand still and look on till they see the Issue.

The Act depending in the House of Commons about Occasional Conformity has set abundance of Heads to Work in the World; and be the House in the Right, or in the Wrong, I know my own Business, and their Temper too well to meddle with it: But I pretend to say, that all Men I have met with, who have meddled with the Argument, either in Print or otherwise, are manifestly Mistaken.

With more Humility therefore than I owe to any Man, I ask leave not to be Censur'd till I am Heard; and those who call me Arrogant before, reprove me with more Arrogance than is their share among their Fellow Creatures.

But since I, who was altogether Born in Sin, have undertaken to teach my Superiors, I desire to explain my self before they cast me out of the Synagogue.

For as that Blind Man thought 'twas a Marvellous thing they should not know whence he came that had opened his Eyes.

So to me 'tis every jot as wonderful to find no Body of my Mind, and yet be Positively assured that I am in the Right.

The Subject I am upon needs no Introduction, the History is in every Mans Knowledge; the Parliament are upon a Bill to prevent Occasional Conformity, and about that Bill the Press swarms with Pamphlets; the Pulpit sounds with Exaltations on one Hand, and Deprecations on the other; every one speak their Opinions, some their Hopes, some their Fears, and so it shou'd have been to the end of the Chapter, if I cou'd have found but one middle Sort, that, free from Prejudice of Parties, cou'd have discern'd the Native State of the Case as it really is, discover'd from the Passions and Follies of Men.

About their Act of Parliament I affirm most of the People I have met with are Mistaken; and that I may be as Explicit as I can, I shall enquire more particularly who are mistaken, how, and then I doubt not the Sequel of this Paper shall make it appear that the Fact is true.

First, All those People who design'd the Act as a Blow to the Dissenting Interest in England; are mistaken.

Secondly, All those who take it as a Prelude or Introduction to the further Suppressing of the Dissenters, and a Step to Repealing the Toleration, or intend it as such, are Mistaken.

Thirdly, All those who think the Dissenters at all concern'd in it, or have design'd to Mortifie them by it, are Mistaken.

Fourthly, All those Hot-Spurs of Divinity who Prophesie Destruction from the Pulpit, and from this Step pretend to foretel that the time of Plund'ring their Brethren is at Hand, are Mistaken.

Fifthly, All those Flegmatick Dissenters who fancy themselves undone, and that Persecution and Desolation is at the Door again, are Mistaken.

Sixthly, All those Dissenters, who are really at all Disturb'd at it, either as an Advantage gain'd by their Enemies, or as a real Disaster upon themselves, are Mistaken.

Seventhly, All those Dissenters who Deprecate it as a Judgment, or wou'd Vote against it, if it were in their Power, are Mistaken.

Eighthly, That all those who begun or promoted this Bill with a Design to Ruin, Weaken and Destroy the Interest or Body of the Dissenters in England, are Mistaken.

Not that I hereby suppose the Parliament or the Persons Originally concern'd in moving this Bill, did it in meer Kindness to the Dissenters, in order to Refine and Purge them from the Scandals, which some People had brought upon them, that 'twas an Action of Christian Charity to the Dissenters, to Prevent and Detect Frauds and Hypocrisie in Religion, and to clear their Reputation.

I never yet saw or read of a Division of Parties in any Nation, but the Hot Heads of both Parties were always for Enflaming the Reckoning; if the Hot Men of the Dissenters have done any Mischief, I am sorry for it; but let us Examine a little what other Hot Men wou'd be now a doing.

No sooner was Queen Ann settl'd upon the Throne of England, and had declar'd that the Church of England shou'd be the Men of Her Favour, as being the Church She had been Educated in, and ever constant to, but these Hot Men fly out upon their Brethren with all the Excesses of their furious Temper.

Nothing wou'd serve them, but this Queen and Parliament must, Root and Branch, blast the Dissenters with their Breath, blow up their Interest in the Nation, and we shou'd be all one Church and one People, of a sudden; 'twas to be done with a Blow all at once, and so certainly, that no possible Doubt could be made of it.

But Her Majesty was pleas'd to let these People know from Her own Mouth, that for as much as concerned Her, they were Mistaken; in that, upon the Address of the Dissenters to Her, She gave them Her Royal Word for Her Protection, and whenever She breaks it, we shall all be Mistaken.

Upon this the Pulpit, that Drum Ecclesiastick began the War, and Mr. Sachavrell, in his Sermon at Oxford, Dooms all the Dissenters to Destruction, without either Bell, Book, or Candle; not regarding common Decency, not respecting his good Manners to the Queen, nor his Deference to the Parliament; but tells them 'tis their Duty, if they will be true Members of the Church of England, to lift up a Standard against the Phanaticks, and the like; as much as to say, Madam, whatever your Majesty has promis'd, You must break Your Word; and Gentlemen of the House of Commons, we will have you do it.

Now all these Gentlemen have liv'd to see themselves Mistaken; and if they retain any Expectations of seeing it fulfill'd, they must exercise their Faith upon it, as a thing in Futuro, and believe that some time or other Her Majesty will break her Word; but as yet there is no great Probability, for hitherto we have seen we are all mistaken.

But to revive their Expectations, comes a Bill into the House for preventing Occasional Conformity, this has been matter of great Triumph to some Gentlemen, who upon this Act revive their common Discourse, and are pleas'd to treat the Dissenters in this manner: Well, Gentlemen, now down you go, the Parliament are a beginning with you, and they don't use to do Business by halves, they have taken the Insulted Church into Consideration, they will reduce you, and this is the first Step, you shall soon see some more on't: We have got a Church Parliament now, and down ye go, this Bill will effectually Ruin your Interest, and bring all your Great Men off from you.

This brings us close to the Point; and 'tis no small matter for any one to show these Gentlemen how they are mistaken.

First, 'Tis time for these Gentlemen to tell us what the Parliament will do when they either know it, or the House has declar'd their Intentions; and till they have, 'tis a Presumption some Houses would have taken Notice of, for any People to pretend to lead them to their Business; and therefore when they tell us this is a Taste of the rest they are preparing for us, I must say, either they are too well acquainted with the Mind of the House, or they are all Mistaken; and as to the Blow this Bill is to the Dissenters Interest in England,

As far as I may be allow'd to give my Judgement, and as the Nature of the Thing seems to speak its self; 'tis plain this Bill is no Damage at all to the Dissenters in England, and we hope the House did not intend it as such.

I cannot imagine that so great a Spirit of Enmity and contempt can be entertain'd in the Breast of a Nation against their Neighbours, their Brethren, People Born in the same Climate, submitting to the same Government, professing the same God, and in most Fundamental Points of Religion agreeing, People link'd together in the same common Interest, by intermarriages continually mixt in Relation, concern'd in the same Trade, making War with the same Enemies, and Allied with the same Friends; were it not that these People, call'd Dissenters, are represented to them under some strange and untrue Character, or that under the Name of Dissenter, some ill Persons are shrowded and disguis'd, who deserve to be thus Treated.

Wherefore, in order to set the Dissenters Right in the Eyes of their Brethren, and that they may have common Justice at least, if they can have nothing of Courtesie, that Peace may be where there is no Occasion for War, and Quietness, and good Manners preserved, 'twill be needful to set the Matter in a true Light, and examine who this Dissenter is, what the People Dissenters are, and what they have done, for which they are Treated after so infamous a Manner by Scurrilous Preachers, and Scandalous Pamphleteers, and other ignorant People, not a few.

The Dissenter is an Englishman, that being something desirous of going to Heaven, having heard his Church of England Father, and School-master, and the Minister of the Parish, talk much of it, begins seriously to enquire about the Way thither, and to that Purpose consulting his Bible and his Conscience, he finds that in his Opinion there are some Things in the Establish'd Way of Worship, which do not seem to correspond with the Rule he has found out in the Scripture.

Now I shall not examine here whether the Man thus scrupulous be in the Right, or whether the Church be in the Right, it does not at all belong to the Case in Hand.

But the Man being fully convinc'd that he ought to Worship God in that Way, exclusive of all others, which is most agreeable to the Will of God reveal'd in the Scripture; and being on mature Consideration also, and after sincere Endeavours to be otherwise satisfied, fully convinc'd that this Establish'd Way is not so near to that Rule as it ought to be, ventures the Displeasure of the Civil Magistrate in Dissenting, in pure Obedience to the Commands of his Conscience, and of that Rule which bids him obey God rather than Man; firmly believing that 'tis his Duty so to do; and that the Compass and Extent of Humane Laws do not reach to bind him in Matters of Conscience; at the same time living in Charity with all the rest of the World whose Consciences do not require the same Restriction, and Peaceably submitting to the Laws and Government he lives under, as far as either his Right, as an Englishman, or his Duty as a Christian, can require.

This is the English Protestant Dissenter which I have been speaking of, and concerning whom I have ventur'd to say, so many Men, so much Wiser than I, are Mistaken.

If there are crept into his Company State Dissenters, Politick Dissenters, or any that give no Reason or other, or less Reasons, for their Dissenting than these, they are not of them, and we wish they would go out from them.

I see no Act of Parliament a making to the Prejudice of this Dissenter; and let Hot Men, Preach, Print, and Say, what they please, it is impossible it shou'd ever enter into the Breast of an English Protestant Parliament, or an English Protestant Queen, either to Oppress or Suppress such a Dissenter.

'Tis for the Protection of this Honest, Well-meaning Dissenter, that in the late Reign the King and Parliament finding their Number Great, thought it was Meet for the Quiet of the Nation, and as an Acknowledgement of the Superiority of Conscience to all Humane Laws, to Settle their Liberty in an Act of Parliament; the same undisputed Authority on which all our Civil, as well as Religious, Rights are Established.

This is the Dissenter to which Her Majesty has promised Her Protection, and this Act of Parliament is the Toleration to Tender Consciences, for which Her Majesty openly declar'd Her Self, even to the Hazard of Her Royal Person.

These are the Dissenters who never gave Her Majesty any Reason to believe they did not Merit Her Protection, and I firmly believe never will.

From these the Church of England has nothing to fear, unless their Exemplary Lives, and Unquestion'd Piety, shou'd prevail to weaken Her Numbers, and we heartily wish all the Strife were reduc'd to this, viz. who shou'd Live best, and who shou'd Preach best.

If there are among them Vicious Youths, or Grown Hypocrites; if there are crept in Errors, Heresies and Enthusiasts; are not the same among the Church? If there are among these Dissenters, Quakers, Antinomians, Sweet-Singers, Muggletonians, and the like; the Church has also Her Socinians, Deists, Anti-Trinitarians, Scepticks, Asgilites, and the like; there can be no Advantage pleaded against Heresie, and Damnable Heterodox Opinions, from one side more than another.

If we regard the Matters of State, the Dissenters, and the Church of England, have small Advantage of the Argument one against another; and I may without Arrogance Challenge the Hot Church-Men, who can Treat them with nothing but the Odious Name of Disturbers of the Peace, Enemies of Monarchy, and Authors of Confusion, to bring the Loyalty of the Church of England, so much boasted of in the World, to the Test, with the Loyalty of the Dissenter;
New Test of the Church of England's Loyalty. P.

and as it has lately been done to my Hand, it is easie to prove that the Dissenter has been equally Loyal to Princes, equally True to the Government and Constitution of England, as the Church; and the Church has been equally Disloyal, and has as often Resisted, and took Arms against the Lawful Establish'd Power and Prince, as the Dissenter; and let them enter into this Dispute whenever they please.

But what is all this to the present Case? What we do as Englishmen is one thing, and what we do as Christians, and Dissenters, is another.

'Tis also Foreign to our Purpose to Examine or Reply to Dr. Stubbs, or the Multitude of Pamphleteers, who place themselves at the forelorn Hope of the Church, and begin the War in hopes of drawing on that whole Body to an Engagement; when they can make it out, that the Dissenter and the Church are as far asunder in Religion as God and Baal, I may possibly think they Merit what they so much Covet, viz. to be Reply'd to.

Whole Reams of Paper are spoil'd since that to prove that this Act of Parliament is needful, because 'tis fit the Church should be Establish'd; to which I Answer with a Question ask'd once with much less Reason in another Case, What need all this Waste?

Gentlemen, Establish your Church with all the Precaution you can, Build a Fence of Impregnable Laws about it, you are welcome; we never did, nor we do not now, Disturb you; leave but us, your Poor Brethren, Liberty to serve God according to our Consciences; don't bind us to do as you can do, whether we can or no; take your Places, and Pensions, and Profits, and deserve them of the Nation, if you can, we ask nothing but our Right, and what is now become so by Law; if you claim the Civil Power as yo•… own, you consequently take us into your Protection▪ and let us see how Generous you'll be.

As to those among us who can conform to yo•… Church for a Place, for a Salary, you are also Welcome to take them among you, and let them be a pa•… of your selves; all the Converts you can make by th• Mammon of Unrighteousness are your own; all yo• can Buy off, or Bribe off, or Fright off, let 'em go; w• readily Grant, that whoever among us can, with Sati•∣faction to his Conscience Conform, ought to Confor• and we heartily Wish you would make some smal• Steps by way of Condescention to your Brethre• such as might open a Door for us all to Conform t• you, and then you shou'd Dissent from Principles o• Obstinacy and Ill-Nature, or from a meer Necessity of Conscience you should then see whether the Dissenters in England were Schismaticks by Nature, and Heterdox by Inclination; or whether their Objectio•… are grounded upon Scripture, and their Dissenting from you an Act of an enlightned Conscience; yo• wou'd then try the Spirits whether they be of God.

But since you are of the Opinion that you are capable of no Amendment, that you cannot Reform farther, and therefore will not Condescend one Step, tho' 'twould bring over Half a Million of Souls to you▪ an Eminent Instance of the Charity of your Church, all we have to say in the Case is, let us have the Protection of the Government, and the Liberty the Laws allow us, and we are Content.

Upon this Score 'tis that we say the Act against Occasional Conformity does not concern us; they who can Conform for One Reason, may conform without Two, and ought to Conform; and we are therefore content to be distinguish'd who cannot Conform at all; and if we might offer so boldly to you, who have any Interest in the House of Commons, we would humbly propose to have the Title of the Act alter'd, and to have it Entituled, An Act for the better Ʋniting the Protestant Dissenters, by preventing Occasional Conformity to the Church of England; and when that is done, let it pass with all our Hearts; and tho' we can easily see what the Design is, viz. That no Dissenter shall be employ'd in Place of Trust or Profit in the Government, yet since it must be so, We hope, Gentlemen, you will be content to take all the Miscarriages of the Government on you too; we shall acquiesce, let us alone in our Religion, let us Worship God as we believe he has directed us, and all the rest is your own.

But before we part let us have leave to remind you, •hat although you are willing to quit all our Civil Right to the Honours, as well as the Advantages, of serving our Country, when we are chosen to it by a fair Majority, rather than not enjoy our Religion, and •he Profession we make, with Peace and Liberty, yet •t is no less an Oppression upon us, and the Hardships •re such as can never be defended by Reason or Equi •y.

We would be glad we had no Cause to think our selves Injur'd; and to such of the Church of England who can judge without Prejudice, we would Appeal whether it is not very Hard.

First, That the Dissenter shall be excluded from all Places of Profit, Trust and Honour, and at the same time shall not be excused from those which are attended with Charge, Trouble, and Loss of his Time?

Secondly, That a Dissenter shall be Press'd as a Sailor to Fight at Sea, Listed as a Soldier to Fight on Shore, and let his Merit be never so much above his Fellows, shall never be capable of Preferment; no, not a Lieutenant at Sea, or so much as a Halbert in the Army.

Thirdly, That we must maintain our own Clergy, and your Clergy; our own Poor, and your Poor; pay equal Taxes, and equal Duties; and not be thought worthy to be Trusted to set a Drunkard in the Stocks.

We wonder, Gentlemen, you will accept our Money on your Deficient Funds, our Stocks to help carry on your Wars, our Loans and Credits to your Victualling Office, and Navy Office.

If you would go on to distinguish us, get a Law made we shall Buy no Lands, that we may not be Freeholders; and see if you could find Money to Buy us out.

Transplant us into Towns and Bodies, and let us Trade by our selves; let us Card, Spin, Knit, and Work, with and for one another, and see how you will maintain your own Poor without us.

Let us Fraight our Ships apart, keep our Money out of your Bank, accept none of our Bills, and seperate your selves as absolutely from us in Civil Matters, as we do from you in Religious, and see how you can go on without us.

If you are not willing to do this, but we must live among you, Trade, Work, Receive and Pay, together, why may we not do it in Peace, with Love and Unity, without daily Reproach? If we have any Knaves among us, take them, if we have any Hypocrites, any who can Conform, and do not, we are free to part with them, that the Remainder may be all such as agree with the Character here given; and when you have Garbl'd us to your Hearts desire, and ours, you need never fear your Church, as to her Politick Interest in the World; Pray then let us be quiet.

What have we to do with your Distinctions of Whig and Tory? No farther that I know of than this, that when, distinct from our Religious Concerns, we come to talk of our Liberties, Properties, and English Priviledges, we are not for having them destroy'd by Absolute Authority, Dispensing Power, and the like; and if this be to be Whigs, ye are Whigs.

As to Kings and Rulers, we are of the Opinion, that when they Degenerate into Tyrants, Oppress their People, Destroy the Laws, with all the et caetera's of Arbitrary Power, 'tis Lawful for the Injur'd People to Reduce them to Reason, and to seek Protection, and Powerful Help, from any Body, to Assist them to Recover their Undoubted Rights and Liberties; if this be to be Traitors, why then, Gentlemen of the Church of England, hold up your Hands; how say you? Are you Guilty, or not Guilty?

As to Oaths, with which, Gentlemen, ye were the Men that loaded your Allegiance farther than you had any Occasion, we are of the Opinion, that they can bind the Subject no longer than the Soveraign continues the Protection of the Executive Power; and that the late King by his Deserting the Throne, Absolv'd all his Subjects from the Bond of their Allegiance; and on this Foot we made no Scruple to Swear to the Government, as it now stands on the Foot of the late Revolution; and if you have Sworn with us, and yet do not believe so, you may get off of the Perjury if you can.

And what need is there now of running down the Dissenters with a full Cry, as if this Act a coming out was a Machine to blow them all up; we see no Harm in it at all, other than the Hardships we mention'd before, most of which we suffer'd before, and are like only to have them the faster entail'd on our Posterity.

All those Gentlemen therefore who think this Act will weaken the Dissenters, or wish it would, are manifestly Mistaken; it may distinguish them better, and I am perswaded will fortifie them in their Honest Profession; 'twill teach them, that if they will hold fast the Truth, they must learn to live like People under the Power of those who hate them, and despitefully use them.

The Dissenters too are strangely Mistaken in their Apprehensions of the Ill Consequences of this Act.

To such I wou'd say, I cannot imagine what they have to fear from it, or why they shou'd be uneasie with the Honour they are also rid of, the Encumbrance of being Mayors, Aldermen, Jurats, and Sheriffs of the Towns and Corporations; and let them but reflect what was the Gain that all the Dissenters in England have made by Places and Pensions from the Government since the late Revolution, I am perswaded 'twill not all amount to the Sum that one Churchman will be found to have Cheated the Nation of.

The Church are willing to engross all the Knaves to themselves, and let them do it, and welcome, tho' they get all the Money into the Bargain; if they would but come to a fair Account with us now, and repay all the Dissenters Money the Nation has been Cheated of by Church Knaves, I dare undertake the Dissenters shall repay all that can be charg'd on their Knaves out of the Ballance.

The Foundation of the Dissenters Safety is lodg'd, by God's Especial Providence, in the Queen's Veracity; while Her Majesty esteems Her Word Sacred, as She has assur'd us She will, we have no Occasion to be concern'd at all.

The Safety of the Dissenters consist in their own Honesty and Integrity; while they do nothing to offend either Her Majesty, or the Laws, if it were possible to have a Parliament of Church Bigots, or of Pulpit Sachaverells, there will be no Fear of their Liberty.

As to the present Act, I doubt not but they will live to see Cause to be thankful for the making it, when the Miscarriages of all People in Publick Offices and Employments are so eminently fix'd upon a Party, and so openly and fairly taken off from them.

They are Mistaken too in the Sence of the Present Parliament; and they may be assur'd, had not their Enemies seen that an English Protestant Parliament, as this is, is not to be prevail'd upon to Overthrow so Substantial a Part of the Nations Liberty as is setled in the Act of Toleration, they had not rested so long, but before now had attempted it.

They have try'd it in the Pulpit, scatter'd it in Scandalous Pamphlets from the Press, affirmed that Toleration is Destructive of the Churches, as well as the Nations Safety; they have endeavour'd, by Calumny and Reproach to blacken the Dissenters with Crimes never committed; and which they wou'd never own before, are at last come to represent them as a formidable Party.

And yet all this cou'd never bring so much as One Member of the House to be so blind to his Countries Interest, as to make a Motion against the Act of Toleration.

Being thus disappointed, and willing to play at small Game rather than stand out, they fly to the Sanctuary of this Bill, and feign themselves gratify'd by it more than ever the Bill, or the House it self, intended; for in all their Arguments for the Bill, 'tis suppos'd to be a Means to Reduce, Humble, and Mortifie the Dissenters; Ridiculus Mus! Is this all? Why really, Gentlemen, had it been in our Power, you should have had all this without an Act of Parliament; this will Strengthen, not Reduce, us; 'twill please, not Mortifie or Humble, us; and thus you find your selves all Mistaken, Mistaken in the House of Commons themselves, in thinking the Representatives of a Protestant Nation will Repeal the Act of Toleration, upon which the Tranquility of their Native Country so much depends, but above all Mistaken in their Expectation of the Queen, to whom their Behaviour is Preposterous and Unmannerly.

'Twas preposterous for People to expect, that because the Queen was a Friend to the Church, a constant Member, and always Espoused the Interest of the Church, that therefore when She came to the Crown, She must come up to all their extravagant Heights.

When Her Majesty was Princess, and a Subject, she constantly adher'd to the Interest of the Church; but at the same time declar'd Her Opinion for tolerating the Dissenters in their Liberty of Protestant Worship, while they behaved themselves quietly and obediently under the Government.

When Her Majesty came to the Crown, She became the general Mother, the Guardian, the Refuge of all Her Subjects; She places the Church first in Her Favour, promises them Her special and particular care, as those who by Judgment and Inclination She stands engaged with; but as She finds a great Number of Her People unhappily divided in Opinion, yet in all other Respects Her good Subjects, what can She do less than give them Her Protection? This She has readily promis'd them, and on this they thankfully depend,

But here comes the Gentlemen of the Long Gown, and they tell her in so many Words, She cannot, She must not keep her Word with us; They tell us She will halt between God and Baal, if She does not so Declare for the Church, as to her Best to Suppress and destroy all Separate Worships, and have all the Priests of Baal, the best Terms they can bestow on the Dissenting Ministers, hew'd to Pieces before the Lord.

'Tis Unmannerly that the Church of England-men shou'd expect the Queen to break Her word with some of Her Subjects to oblige others; and that whereas She has promis'd them Her Special Favour, they shou'd not be content with that, unless She will at the same time Oppress Two Millions of her Faithful People to oblige them.

Let them go on, but let them be assur'd the Dissenters shall enjoy their Liberty of Conscience, till they can prevail with Her Majesty to lay aside her Veracity, and forget Her Royal Word, and refuse us Her Protection, which we are resolved never to give Her any Reason for.

As to the Bill against Occasional Conformity, it baulks their Design on the Dissenters, for 'tis for their Advantage; they always dislik'd the Practice; it has more than once been Protested against, and Exploded, and I dare undertake not one Dissenter offers to present a Petition to the House against its passing.

'Tis plain, that Occasional Communion is contrary to the very Nature and Being of a Dissenter; who, if he can Conform, ought to Conform; and if he can for a Place of Preferment, ought to do it without that Preferment.

'Tis plain, that whatever, by the Connivance of Remiss Ministers, and with too much Regard to Parties, may have been slightly pass'd over, yet by the very Constitution and Foundation of a collected, separate Church or Congregation, no Man can go back to the Communion of the Church of England, and be received again upon any other Condition but as a Penitent; 'tis an Act Destructive of all possible Pretence for Dissenting and never was, nor never can, be defended by any Dissenter, without over-throwing all the Reasons they cou'd ever give for Dissenting.

How then can this Bill be aim'd at the Dissenters? either they who think 'tis aim'd at them, are Mistaken; or they that point it at them, are Mistaken, for Suppressing an Error crept in among them, contrary to their Constitution, against their Judgment, declared by them to be a Grievance, can never be their Injury, nor ought to be their Trouble.

Let them Name us the Dissenter that ever vindicated this Practice, one passionate Author excepted; let them tell us the Time when any Congregation received such conforming Nonconformatists without dissatisfactions and Discontents; let them tell us a Time whenever the thing was practic'd till the Reign of King James.

'Tis a Novelty, an Abuse crept in among us, and we are glad to have it Condemn'd by Authority; at the same Time not at all thinking our selves oblig'd to the Authors for their Good Will.

'Twill be objected, this is a Feint, to close with a thing when you cannot help it.

No, Gentlemen, we don't tell you we like that part of the Bill which Excludes us from the Native Honours and Preferments of our Country, which are our Due, our Birthright, equally with our Neighbours, and to which we should be call'd by the Suffrage of the People; and we cannot but think it a Hardship beyond the Power of Reason to justifie; but since this Right must be clogg'd with so many Inconveniencies, that we must Mortgage our Consciences to enjoy them, no Man can have any Charity left for us, but must presently conclude we shall freely forego such Trifles for our Consciences, or else that we may have no Consciences at all.

Therefore 'tis no Feint; we are so content with the Suppressing the Grievance of this Scandalous Ambo-dexter Conformity, that we think the Hardships put upon us with it not worth naming; we doubt not the Parliament will one time or other see Cause to do us Justice, and to restore to us the Priviledges of our Ancestors, and which we have done nothing to forfeit.

But all the Parliaments that ever were, or will be, can never Suppress any thing among us so Scandalous to our Reputation, and to that Candour with which we desire to Guide our Actions, nor so Contrary to, and Destructive of, the very Nature of our separating from the Church of England, and the Constitution of all our Collected Congregations.

We acknowledge, that if this was an allow'd Practice among us, we cou'd not pretend the Character of a Dissenter I have here given to be Just; but without Question it is a most Just Character of all those Dissenters who are Consciencious and Honest; 'tis the Original, the Nature, of a Dissenter; what is crept in more is a Corruption, and we wish it Extinguished; and since none has said any thing of this Nature but what has been said before, and no Church of England-Man can think or speak worse of it than the truly Religious Dissenters have done, we freely dismiss all those who can thus Build with one Hand, and Pull Down with another, to a Liberty of declaring for the future who they are for.

Only pursuant to what has all along been acknowledg'd, so far as we handl'd this Argument, if they wou'd accept of the Friendly Advice of their Brethren, it should be, that they would for the future Conform to the Church of England.

For 'tis plain, he that can Conform to the Church to qualifie himself for Preferment, for Employment, or any such Reason, can Conform; if not, he must be arrived to a Degree of Mastership over his Conscience so as to subject it to his Interest, and act against light; and he that can do that, may do any thing, and 'tis no matter what Church he communicates with; of such a Man I think I Trespass not upon Charity to say, he has all his Work of Religion to do over again, and he also may Conform till God shall give his Conscience Light enough to chuse by, and him Grace to be Obedient to the Convictions of his own Heart, and whether that be to Conform or Dissent, let him judge

But if any Man who has profest himself a Religious Dissenter, shall, upon the passing this Act, declare himself Resolv'd to turn to the Dissenters, I think no Congregation of Dissenters, according to the Nature of Religious Communion, can receive him upon any other Terms than as a Penitent.

If he has not Sinn'd, why shou'd he Repent? Says a Learned Author in this very Case.

I answer, he either has Sinn'd in Conforming, or he Sinn'd in Dissenting before, or he Sins in coming off; for if he did not Sin in Conforming, he ought to have continued there, and his coming off is a plain Schism; but if he did Sin, he ought to acknowledge the Sin, which is what I mean by being receiv'd as a Penitent.

I am told after all this, but upon what Authority do you write thus? You take upon you to write in the Name of the Dissenters, what Commission have you to write in the Plural? And how do we know that the Dissenters disown this Occasional Communion.

I answer, Publication is an Appeal to the World; if I have wrote what is not true, or affirm'd that in the Name of the Dissenters which is not their Opinion, I am liable to an easie Confutation; but as I have never yet had my Argument refuted, so tho' I have not received a Formal Commission, Truth is a General Commission, and any Man may write it.

And yet I am not without a general Concurrence of all the Dissenters I ever converst with: and he that can answer the Argument is welcome to Make his Negative as Publick as this, and let the World judge who is in the Right.

A NEW TEST OF THE Church of England's Loyalty: OR, WHIGGISH LOYALTY AND CHURCH LOYALTY COMPAR'D

IN all the unhappy Contentions among Parties and Factions in this brangling Nation, the Champions of the Church of England, as they wou'd have themselves call'd, have laid it down as the distinguishing Mark of their Hierarchy, that it is her Practice, and has been deriv'd from her very Constitution, as well as Doctrine, to fix in all her Members Principles of unshaken Loyalty to her Prince, entire and undisputed Obedience to all her Commands, and an Abhorrence of the very Thoughts of those Hellish Principles, That it can be lawful on any Account whatsoever to resist the establish'd Power of their Kings.

'Twou'd be endless to quote the the Reverend Dr. B—ge, who from the Text in the 13th of Romans, v. 1, 2. Resist not the Powers, &c. for whatsoever Powers are, he ordained of God; whosoever therefore resisteth the Power, resisteth the Ordinance of God; tells us, That if the King shou'd by his Royal Command execute the greatest Violence upon either our Person or Estate, our Duty was to submit by Prayers and Tears first to God Almighty, to turn the Wrath of his Vicegerent from his Servant, and by bumble Entreaty to beg his Majesties Grace and Pardon; but to lift up the Hand against the Lord's Anointed, or resist the Evil of punishment he thought fit to inflict this were a Crime unpardonable either before God or Man, and a Crime, (says the Reverend Dr.) which we bless God the very Principles of our Ever Loyal Mother, the Church of England, abhors and detests.

Let Incendiaries, Phanaticks, and Bloody Peace-breaking Wbigs (says another Learned Divine) nourish the Vip'rous Principles of Treason and Rebellion, and let them meet their due Reward of their Factious Doings in the Resentments of a Righteous, but Provok'd Nation: But God be praised, our Mother, the Church of England, has always brought up her Sons in an unspotted Loyalty and Obedience; none have been found lifting up their Hands against their Soveraign, or possessing the Rights of the Anointed of God, &c.

The very Being and Life, the Original and Principles of the Church of England, (says another 30th of January Sermon) is Loyalty and Fidelity to God, as the Immediate Supream, and to the King as the lively Image of Divine Authority, whose Power is immediately deriv'd from, holds of, and is accountable to none but to God Himself.

To avoid Prolixity of Quotation, the Reader is desired to accept of these as sufficient Proofs of what I lay down upon this Condition; nevertheless, that besides the general Appeal which I make to the Memory of most Men, I oblige my self upon Demand to produce Ten Thousand fair Quotations of Non-resistance of Princes, Passive-Obedience, and Divine Authority of the Kingly Power, is own'd and declar'd to be an Essential Part of the Profession and Practice of the Church of England; and upon this Foot, which I hold to be sufficient, I think I cannot be censured if I take it for Granted.

Now as this too much divided Nation has always been compos'd of two contending Parties, those Parties have been distinguish'd, as in like Cases, by Names of Contempt; and tho' they have often chang'd them on either side, as Cavalier and Roundhead, Royalists and Rebels, Malignants and Phanaticks, Tories and Whigs, yet the Division has always been barely the Church and the Dissenter, and there it continues to this Day.

As the Church of England Party have boasted of their own Loyalty, so they have branded the Dissenter with Rebellion and Faction, not only in their Nature, but in their very Principles; they have laid it down in their Writings and Sermons, and Multitudes of their ignorant Hearers believe it, that the very Doctrine of the Dissenter is made up of Principles in their own Nature tending to Confusion and Rebellion; they wo'n't be content that we shou'd own there may be Men among all Parties of bad Designs, and who wou'd on all Occasions embroil their Native Country; but it must be woven with the very Articles of Faith; and that 'tis the Religion of a Dissenter to disturb Government, kill Kings, and oppose Laws.

The Phanatical Enemies of our King and Church, says the Learned Dr. P—n, drink in Rebellion as Water; 'tis the very Substance of their Schismatical Doctrine to overwhelm and destory; and Commonwealths and Confusions are the Doctrines they preach.

He that lays out one Groat with a Dissenter (says the worthy Sir Roger in one of his Famous Observators) contributes so much as the Profits of that Groat amounts to in Trade, towards the Subversion of the Monarchy, and Erecting a Common-wealth, for the very Nature and Tendency of their Profession is destructive of Kingly Power, and the Government of the Nation.

This has been the Opinion of the Church of England, both of themselves on one Hand, and of the Dissenters on the other Hand. I shou'd be glad if I cou'd only say, It has been, for we find 'tis still too much their Opinion.

Let no Man say that the Author of these Sheets is either widening or keeping unheal'd the Breaches of this Nation; for if I can make it appear that there is really no Occasion of such unnatural Divisions; and that neither the extraordinary Opinion of themselves, nor the Contempt of their Neighbours, as to the matter of Loyalty, is a becoming Principle; no, nor a rational one neither: For that as to Loyalty, Passive-Obedience, Non-Resistance, &c. there is really no great Difference between one side or other; I go as far towards healing the Breach as any Man; for there can be no better way to end the Strife on both Sides, than to prove that neither Side has any just Cause to contend.

To examine the Matter on both Sides, seems very useful at this time, in order to reconcile Parties, and to settle the Universal Character of the Nation.

The Government of England, is a limited Monarchy, composed of King, Lords, and Commons; each have their several, their separate, and their conjunctive Powers; which acting in Concert, make the Harmony of the Constitution. I shall not invade the Province of those learned Gentlemen, who have undertaken to set forth the Branches of the Constitution in all their Powers, Limitations and Prerogatives: 'Tis enough to say the Constitution is known, the Government is confin'd by Laws, the Crown limited by Statutes, and the Peoples Rights confirm'd by the Concession of Ages.

To this Government, all Distinction of Names set apart, I am of the Opinion all Parties have in their Turns been equally Loyal; I was going to say, equally Disloyal: And if I were to use the Language of late Times, it wou'd be a very proper way of speaking.

Affirming without demonstrating is an absurd way of arguing, and therefore it will be needful to come to Particulars, and to examine the several Acts and Deeds of both Parties when the Kingly Prerogative has shock'd or clash'd with the People.

In order to this 'tis needful co examine the Date of the Difference, and so enter a little into History.

Our first Reformation from Popery was in the Days of King Edward the VI. I call it the first, because 'twas under him that the whole Nation and the Government embrac'd the Protestant Reform'd Religion; this Protestant Religion was establish'd by that Zealous King, and by his Parliament, back'd with the force of Laws, and confirm'd by all the Sanction of Authority it was capable of, and here it began to be call'd the Church of England.

Some enquiring Christians were for making farther Steps, and carrying on the Reformation to a higher Degree; and if that good reforming King had liu'd, his Zeal and Integrity was such, that there was no doubt he wou'd have gone on to perfect every thing he had begun, as new Light or more Knowledge had encreased; but the Return of Popery under Queen Mary put a Stop to the Work in general, and went very far towards overturning the whole Structure of the Reformation.

Queen Elizabeth restor'd it again; but as she was a Zealous Protestant Queen, yet she was not for subjecting the Reformation to any Amendment. Not that she believ'd it perfect; but she was a Politick Princess, surrounded with Enemies that were not to be dally'd with; and she was loth to suppose such Defects in the Reformation as were alledg'd, because 'twas to lessen the Reputation of it, and consequently her Interest in the World.

Those who insisted upon the further Reformation were then call'd Puritans, because they set up for a greater Purity of Worship; and they separated themselves from the establish'd Church, because, as they said, their Consciences inform'd them they cou'd serve God more agreeable to his Will.

I shall not meddle with the Arguments made use of on both Sides, either to defend or expose this Principle; 'tis sufficient to acquaint my Reader that this is the true Original of the Dissenters: We are now to examine a little further back. Before this Reformation there was no such thing as Church of England, it was then the Church of Rome that was the establish'd National Church.

The Protestants under the Titles of Lollards, Wickliffians, Hussites, &c. what did they do? Did they, as our Modern People say every Body shou'd, conform to what the Government commanded? No, the present Church of England Party were the Dissenters, the Schismaticks and Phanaticks, in the Days of King Henry VIII. were persecuted for not coming to Church, many of them put to Death, and always treated with Scorn and Contempt, as Enemies to the Government, Broachers of new Opinions, and Contemners of Authority, as in the Case of that Famous Proto-Martyr of Christ's Church, John Lambert, and others.

In the next Ages these come to have the Power in their Hands, and forgetting that they had found it Righteous in the Sight of God to obey God rather than Man, they treat those whose Consciences oblige them to dissent from them with the same Contempt which themselves had receiv'd from the Roman Government.

Thus far they are upon even Terms, as to Obedience to their Superiors.

The Dissenters have the first Occasion after this to show their Submission under extraordinary Pressures. Queen Elizabeth discountenanc'd them continually, and as good a Queen as she was, put some of them to Death. King James I. hunted them quite out of the Kingdom, made Thousands of them fly into Holland and Germany, and at last to New-England.

During the long Reign of these Two Princes we find no charge of Treason or Rebellion upon them; they bore the Displeasure of their Princes with Patience and Passive Obedience, if I may be allow'd that Ridiculous Phrase; being persecuted in one City, they fled to another; they bore illegal Prosecutions, and things contrary to their Right, as English Men, but never took up Arms against their Prince.

Under the Reign of King Charles I. the Case alter'd, the King and Parliament fell out about Matters of Civil Right, and Invasion of the Liberty and Properties of the People, the Puritans or Dissenters, call them what we please, fell in unanimously with the Parliament.

And here 'tis worthy Remark, that the first Difference between the King and the English Parliament did not Respect Religion but Civil Property; nor were the Majority of the House Puritans, but true Church Protestants, and English Men, who stood upon the Rights of the People, as English Men; and none were more Zealous in the first Disputes than the Lord Digby, Sir Thomas Wentworth, and such as were afterwards deep Sufferers for the King.

But the Parliament finding the Puritan Party stuck close to their Cause, they also came over them when Things came to a Rupture, and so the War begun on the Score of Right, Invasion of Liberty, Breach of the Laws, Private Leagues, and Male-Administration, a Game we have seen play'd over again by the very same Church of England that have exclaim'd so much against it, so damn'd it, and so damn'd themselves, by Oaths, Declarations, Tests, and God knows what against it.

'Tis allow'd here the Puritan broke thro' his Loyalty, and his former Obedience, and fought his Way to the Liberty he demanded. Well, the War ended to his Advantage, he subdued his Soveraign, and brought him to the Block, to the Astonishment of the whole World.

I won't dispute here which or which Party did or did not do it; but to give the Enemy all just Advantage, I am willing to grant it in the largest Sence that the Dissenters, or Phanaticks, or Whigs, call them as you please, did embrue their Hands in the Blood of the Lord's Anointed, put to Death that Blessed Martyr, King Charles the I. whom the Learned Divine, in a Sermon on the 30th of January, before the Parliament, compares both in the manner of his Sufferings, and the People by whom, to our Saviour and the Jews, and boldly runs on in the Blasphemous Parallel, to shew that the Indignities and Sufferings of King Charles exceed those of Jesus Christ.

I think I have granted as largely as a fair Adversary can desire, for I have yielded, for Peace-sake, to several Things which I cou'd fairly disprove.

Nor shall I return to a Repetition of the ill Usage the Dissenters have receiv'd from the contrary Party on this Account for above 30 Years; the constant Reproaches they and their Children after them have met with from those Gentlemen, who on all Occasions have (as I hinted before) particularly taken care to extol their own unshaken Fidelity to their Prince, till at last an Occasion presents to touch them in the same most sensible Part, their Right and Property; and alas! Their Loyalty, what became of it? Truly the Faithful, Passively Obedient, Ʋnshakenly Loyal, Church, return'd to the Original Nature of their Neighbours, and did the same thing exactly which the Whigs, the Factious Rebellious Whigs, had done before.

No, that's false, (says a Disciple of Dr. Sherlock's) we did not Kill our King, we did not dip our Hands in Royal Blood, nor hurt the Lords Anointed.

No, that's true, but the Lords Anointed may thank himself for that; for my part I think the Difference only lyes here; the Whigs in 41, to 48, took up Arms against their King, and having Conquer'd him, and taken him Prisoner, and having taken him Prisoner, cut off his Head, because they had begun: The Church of England took Arms against their King in 88, and did not cut off his Head, because they had him not. King Charles lost his Life, because he did not run away; and his Son, King James, sav'd his Life, because he did run away.

'Tis such a Jest, such a Banter, to say, We did take up Arms, but we did not kill him: Bless us, Kill our King, we wou'd not have hurt a Hair of his Head! Why, every Bullet shot at the Battel of the Boyne was a killing the King; for if you did not, 'twas because you cou'd not hit him.

If a Highway-man Fires at you upon the Road, when he is taken, and brought upon his Trial, our Learned Recorder, before he pronounces Sentence of Death, Harangues him in this manner: And besides all this, Sir, you are plainly guilty of Murther; for you not only assaulted this Honest Man in order to take away his Money, but you endeavoured to Murther him; for you shot at him in order to kill him; and the Intention of Murther is equally Criminal in the Eyes of God with the Act it self.

Now who did we shoot at at the Boyne? 'Tis true, King James generally stood out of the way: But who did we Shoot at? What! Was our Orders to fight against both small and great, and not against the King of Israel? Had your Bullets Commission to shew their Loyalty, and not to touch the Lords Anointed? If he had charg'd in the first Squadrons of his Horse had you not kill'd him if you cou'd? I think this needs no further Proof.

Nay, if Arguments may be allow'd to have equal Weight on both sides, the Whigs have been the honester of the two, for they never profest any such blind, absolute and undisputed Obedience to Princes, as the others have done.

It has always been their Opinion, That Government was Originally contrived by the Consent, and for the mutual Benefit of the Parties Govern'd, that the People have an Original Native Right to their Property, the Liberty of their Persons and Possessions, unless forefaulted to the Laws; that they cannot be divested of their Right but by their own Consent; and that all Invasion of this Right is destructive of the Constitution, and dissolves the Compact of Government and Obedience.

They have always declar'd, That they understand their Allegiance to their Governors to be, supposing they Govern them according to the Laws of the Land; and that if Princes break this Bond of Government, the Nature of it is inverted, and the Constitution ceases of course.

Buchanan in Scotland, Algernoon Sidney in England, have set their Names, and the latter his Blood, to this Doctrine; and the Author of the True-born Englishman is worth quoting in this Case.

The Government's ungirt when Justice dies,

And Constitutions are Non-Entities:

The Nation's all a Mob, there's no such thing

As Lords or Commons, Parliament or King:

A great promiscuous Crowd the Hydra lyes,

Till Laws revive, and mutual Contract ties:

A Chaos free to chuse for their own Share,

What Case of Government they please to wear.

If to a King they do the Reins commit,

All Men are bound in Conscience to submit;

But then that King must by his Oath assent

To Postulata's of the Government;

Which if he breaks, he cuts off the Entail,

And Power retreats to its Original.

True-Born Englishman, P. 74.

This has been the avow'd Doctrine of the Dissenters, and is indeed the true Sense of the Constitution it self; pursuant to this Doctrine they thought they had a Right to oppose Violence with Force; believing that when Kings break Coronation Oaths, the Solemn Compact with their People, and encroach upon their Civil Rights, contrary to the Laws of the Land, by which they are Sworn to Rule, they cease to be the Lord's Anointed any longer; the Sanction of their Office is vanish'd, and they become Tyrants and Enemies of Mankind, and may be treated accordingly.

Now 'tis no wonder to find People of these Principles vigorously withstanding their Governors when they tread upon the tender sore Places of the Constitution, 'tis nothing but what they all along pretended to, and declar'd to be their Opinion.

But to find the Church of England-Men, whose Loyalty has been the Subject of a thousand Learned Authors, and numberless Sermons, whose Character and Mark of Distinction has been chosen more for her steady Adherence and Fidelity to her Prince than to God Almighty, whose Obedience to her Monarch has been declar'd to be Inviolate and Immovable, and who pretends to be Famous through the whole World for her Faithfulness to Kings, for her, as soon as ever the King did but, as it were, seem to aim at crushing her Authority, as soon as he did but begin to call her Clergy to an Account, and clap her Golden Condlesticks for Disobedience, for her to winch and kick fly to Foreign Princes for Protection, and rise in Arms against her Prince, O Pellin! O Brady; O Sherloch▪ O Hominum! O Mores!

Where's the Worthy Dr. B—ge's Loyal•… now, his Immovable Loyalty? That after all his Absolute Submission, is so far from being a Martyr to his own Doctrine, that he could not lose a small Benefice for it?

Where is the famous Dr. S—k? Who having stood out long in his old Antiquated Doctrine of Passive Obedience, and confirm'd the Faith of his Suff'ring Brethren, by strong and wonderful Arguments, at last, at the powerful Instigation of a Wife, and a good Salary, has Sold all his Loyalty for a Mess of Pottage, solving his Honesty with the wretched Distinction of a Power De Facto, and a Power De Jure; as if the Church of England's Credit cou'd be sav'd by such an impotent Shift, or as if he cou'd make Amends to the Prebendary for his helping him to Sacriflce his Brethren, to Father his Conversion on reading honest Dr. Overall, whose Doctrine, 'tis well known, the Doctor knew before; but that he was loth Dr. South shou'd have the Honour of bringing him over to such Old Phanatick Principles?

Behold the Loyalty of the Church of England; now let's examine their Conscience, as to taking Oaths; and if I do not bring them to be all Whigs, and Forty-One-Men, or else prove them all Perjur'd, then I do nothing.

The Clergy, all the Magistrates and Officers of the Houshold, of the Civil or Military Government, were Members of the Church of England, otherwise they cou'd not be employ'd; the Sacramental Test has done the Dissenters this Kindness, that 'tis plain all the Managing Hands in the Kingdom were Disciples of the Church; and as an additional Circumstance, the Oath of Allegiance which they took, and which was (God be praised) of their own making, bound them to that same Absolute Blind Obedience which they profest, and confin'd it to the King, his Heirs and Successors.

If this Oath be consider'd literally, I am content to be silenc'd when one fair Argument can be brought to evade it; the Declaration follow'd it, wherein they detest and abhor that devilish Doctrine, that 'tis lawful on any Pretence whatsoever, (Mark the Emphasis) to take up Arms against the King; this (equal to an Oath) declar'd in the Presence of God, and the Particulars being material to our Purpose, are as follows:
I A. B. do Declare and Believe that it is not Lawful upon any Pretence whatsoever to take up Arms against the King, and that I do abhor that Traiterous Position of taking Arms by his Authority against those that are commissioned by him.
So help me God.

Notwithstanding this, you have taken up Arms against, deposed, and as far as you were able, put to Death your lawful King, the very King you swore Allegiance to.

Now pray Gentlemen give Commission to some worthy Champion of your Church's Loyalty to bring you sairly off of your Oath and Declaration if you can; and till you do, be not angry with us for making one of these Conclusions from the Premises, and you shall chuse for your selves.

First, That this Doctrine of Absolute, Passive and Non-resistant Obedience, is an Absurdity in it self, contradictory to the Nature of Government and Allegiance, and politically introduc'd by State Engines into the Church of England, to abuse her, and betray her Members into unforeseen Mischiefs and Inconveniences.

Or, Secondly, That the Members of the Church of England are all Apostates from the very Fundamental Doctrine of their Church, Perjur'd in the Sight of God and Man, Notorious Hypocrites, and Deceivers; who having sworn Obedience without Reserve to their Prince, are become Traitors, Rebels, and Murtherers of the Lord's Anointed, and their Lawful Soveraign; and not having the Fear of God before their Eyes, have depos'd and traiterously dethron'd their Rightful King, God Almighty's Vicegerent, accountable to no Earthly Power, Supream under God, Absolute, and, from Divine Institution, Undoubted Sole Lord of them and their Country.

Or, Lastly, That they only are the true Church of England, who according to their avow'd Profession, have firmly adher'd to their King in all his Sufferings and Solitude, have never blacken'd their Consciences, nor gone back from their Obedience, forgotten their Oaths, nor sullied their Reputation with the horrid Crimes of Treason and Rebellion, as they think it to be.

Now, as a fair Disputant, I am willing the Respondent shall chuse which of these three Consequences he will stand by in Behalf of the Church of England's Loyalty; but if they wou'd take the Advice of a Friend to the Honest Part of them, I wou'd recommend the first Conclusion to be fittest for them for the following Reasons.

1. Because since Humane Infallibility is (and with good Reason) disown'd by the Church of England, both for her self and every Body else, it can be no Diminution to her Reputation, when she has found her self mistaken, and impos'd upon, to acknowledge her Error; a wise Man will always own, rather than defend a Mistake.

2. Because 'tis my Opinion that their Way is hedg'd up against any other Pretence, Evasion, or Reservation, and therefore 'tis with me the only thing that Charity can say for them, and must remain so, till I find something else said that is more to the Purpose.

But the Mischief of all is, that if this be honestly acknowledg'd (as is doubtless most true) that the Church of England was mistaken, and impos'd upon, to espouse a Sensless Absurd Principle, contrary to the Nature of Government and Allegiance, &c. why then they come over to this Consequence;

That Government and Allegiance are both Conditional, and Oaths of Subjects are always to be consider'd in a Constructive Sence, with Conditions of Protection, and the like; a thing which is without question the real Meaning of all Oaths of Allegiance; otherwise Subjects may be put under an Absolute Necessity of Perjury, or State Martyrdom, by often Swearing what may be impossible for them to perform.

The Town of Aeth in Flanders has been about Six Times, and the Town of Rhinebergh in Gueldre about Twelve Times, Taken and Retaken; and as often as new Masters had Possession of the Place, so often the poor Inhabitants have sworn to their new Lords: What can the Meaning of such an Oath be, but that they will be faithful to them so long as they keep Possession of the Place? 'Twou'd be ridiculous to imagine the Imposers of the Oath requir'd any more.

If our Zealous Churchmen worded an Oath contrary to the very Nature of Swearing Allegiance, let them answer for it who first made it, then took it, then broke it: But the Nature of the thing can leave Room for no other Suggestion that I know of.

Till then some further Argument is produc'd, it must rest here, that the Church of England was Mistaken, Imposed upon, &c. that she finds when the Laws are Broken, the Right of the People Invaded, the Root of the Government Struck at, Church and State Undermin'd, and Despotick Tyranny at the Door, the Native Right of the People is Superior, and they may assume a Power to Right themselves.

And so we are brought back to Whiggism and Forty. One; and Gentlemen, there is no Remedy for it, help it if ye can.

Where now is the Difference between Church Loyalty, and Whiggish Loyalty, Roundhead or Cavalier, Churchman or Dissenter, Whig or Troy? All are alike; they are pleas'd, when legally Govern'd, Quarrelsome and Unruly, if Opprest; and will Defend themselves, if Assaulted, tho' it be by their Kings, or any Body else.

Why then is the Difference kept up? Methinks they might all be Friends together, for they are all alike; the Dissenters have been in their times as Loyal, and the Church of England in their time as Disloyal, one as another. Vice versa; the Dissenters have been as Disloyal, and the Churchmen as Loyal, as one another upon the same Occasion; they have been both Sufferers, and have submitted to the Government; ay, and to the Oppressions and Persecutions of their Superiors and Soveraigns; and again, upon the like Occasions, they have both of them been Rebels. if their own Language may be so far used; they have both of them, in their Turn, taken Arms against, and depos'd their Rightful and Lawful Kings.

So that in my Opinion, with a Latitude to all that think otherwise, to think as they please, the Church of England, and their Neighbours the Dissenters, have nothing to quarrel with one another about, as to Loyalty; as to other Matters I have nothing to say to them, nor shall not mingle it with this Discourse.

Nor do I think I am writing a Satyr against the Church of England, nor is it at all intended to be so; and to stop all Pretences that way, I take the Freedom to say, here has been no Crime, the Church of England has been in the right of it; not in taking Arms, but the Error was in Espousing, Crying up, and Pretending to a Blind Absolute Obedience to Princes, be their Commands never so Absolute, Tyrannical or Illegal; this neither the Doctrine nor Practice of the Church of England, nor of any Church or People in the Christian World, ever pretended to; and therefore the Fanlt lay in those People, who being themselves Members of the Church of England, suffer'd themselves to be deluded by State Ministers, to foster a Tenent upon the Church, which her Original Constitution never pretended to, and then call it the Doctrine of the Church of England.

The first beginning of their pretended Doctrine was found in Manwaring's and Sibthorp's Libels, in the Days of King Charles I. cajoling the King; and then to please him, endeavouring to wheedle the People into a Belief of the Divine Right of Kingly Government; and affirming, that the King was not oblig'd by the Laws in the Administration of the Government.

Upon this preposterons Foundation they built the Illegitimate Structure of Absolute Undisputed Obedience; for if Kingly Power were once prov'd to be immediately deriv'd from Divine Authority, Absolute Obedience wou'd be a Consequence no Body cou'd dispute, since the same Obedience without Reserve wou'd be due to the Delegated Power, as to the Power Delegating.

And tho' this is a Point easily enough confuted, yet being willing to keep the present Dispute within as small a Compass we can, I think our Argument has nothing at all to do with it.

Whether Government be of Divine Original or not, seems not the Question here; for if it be not so, then, as before, the Church of England have been Mistaken, and Imposed upon; and if it be so, then the Church of England has trampled under Foot their own Doctrine, turn'd Rebels to God, and Apostates from the Faith they have profest, have Sacrilegiously and Traiterously taken up Arms against their Prince, assaulted the Lords Anointed, resisted the Powers, which are the Ordinance of God, deposed their Lawful Soveraign, broken their Allegiance, and consequently are a Parcel of Perjur'd Rebels; every Jot as bad as the worst Roundhead Regicide, and Rebel of the Year Forty-One.

What more or less can be said I profess I know not, and am in great Expectation of something new in the Matter; for I cannot find in all the Writings I have met with, any thing to contradict it.

The bringing Government and Obedience to the proper Circumstances of mutual Compact between King and People, seems to me to be the only Method to unravel this Skein of entangl'd Principles; the Nature of Government has made it the necessary Consequence of all Argument relating to Power; and I cou'd give Instances in all the Nations in the World, that some time or other, even the Right of Succession to Government, which must be as Sacred as the Power, has been Interrupted and Limited by the People, in case of Tyranny and Illegal Governing; and every Nation, and this among the rest, has oftentimes Depos'd their Princes for the Preservation of the State, when either Incapacity for Government, Tyrannical Usurpation, or other Male-Administration, has been the Case.

But this I think also needless here; every one that is vers'd in History can read the numerous Examples in the Roman, Grecian and Persian Histories, even Sacred Histories, where Kings were more particularly of Divine Right than any where, are full of them; the Histories of Spain, Portugal, France, Lombardy, the Empires of Germany and Muscovy, even the Papal Chair, have suffer'd Convulsions and Revolutions, the Deposing and Displacing their Soveraigns, when the Peoples Good, which is, and ever was, the Soul, the Center, the End, and the Cause of all Government, came to be in the Dispute.

But to return to the Principles of the Two Parties we are now discoursing of; the Whigs, as before, have always asserted this to be their Notion of Government and Governors; and the Church of England, however some among them have topt an empty Notion upon them, have all along, and now at last once for all, own'd it by their Practice.

That Kings when they descend to Tyranny,

Dissolve the Bond, and leave the Subject free.

True-born Eng. Man, P. 47.

The Act for the further Limitation of the Crown past in the last Parliament, and the Right of the People therein Declar'd and Recogniz'd, I wou'd ask my Opponent whose Act and Deed it was? Will they say it was a Whiggish Act, made by a Phanatical House of Commons? I dare say there was not Ten Dissenters in the House; let them descend with us into Particulars, let them draw out a Black List of Members, who in that Loyal Honest English Parliament gave their Hands to the last Settlement and Declaration of Right, and let us tell Noses, and put a Brand upon the Phanaticks among them.

Will they tell us it was a Phanatical Parliament that set the Crown upon the Queens Head? I hope they will own Her Majesty, and their Lordships the Bishops, are part of the Church of England; for if the Head and the principal Members are not, we know not who are.

Will they tell us that Sir E. S. Sir B. S. Sir J. B. Mr, H—y, Sir C—r M—ve, and a Hundred more of that Side, were Whigs and Commonwealth-Men?

How comes it to pass in England, that no Papist can inherit? Divine Right ought to supercede all Precautions, and the Young Prince of Savoy, not the House of Hannover ought to Reign with a Non Obstante to all Humane Limitation, if all was from Heaven? Where are our Right Line-Men now! Why, truly the Reason is plain, the Church of England, People of England, a Church of England, Parliament of England, have thought fit to Declare, that for the Good of the People to which all Right of Succession to Power must give way, because from them all Power it self does derive, and by the Voice of that people (in which Authority sufficient is Legally Grounded) it is Unanimously agreed, that we will not have a Papist to Reign over us.

All this is too plain to admit of a Dispute; and now to me it seems Preposterous why any Men shou'd keep up the Distinction between Parties as to Loyalty, when indeed there is no manner of Difference in the Case.

I have talk'd several times of Bearing, Suffering, being Persecuted and Oppress'd, as the Dissenters in their time have been more than enough, and again in their Turn the Church of England have been Persecuted too; for as I noted before, they were once the Schismaticks, the Whigs, and the Dissenters. Now I think 'tis not very foreign to my Argument to examine whether of the Two behav'd themselves under their Sufferings with the greatest Submission, who show'd most Absolute Obedience to their Superiors, and who first, or oftenest, rebell'd against their Lawful Soveraign.

The Protestants under Henry VIII. were the first Dissenters; they were kept Under, Persecuted, and put to Death as Rebels and Schismaticks. Now upon due Search it will be fouhd, that under the Protection of Two Protestant Queens, Wives of King Henry VIII. they had more than once form'd such Interest at Court, and in the Kingdom, as to begin to be formidable to the Popish Powers then reigning; and the Fall of the Lord Cromwell was thought a necessary Policy in King Henry, to prevent the Plots of the Phanatical Church of England Hereticks; a long Account of which may be read in the Life of that Prince.

King Edward the VI. a Zealous and pious Prince, made no Scruple for the Propagation of the Protestant Church of England, of which he was the Glorious Founder, to set Aside the Lawful and Undisputed Succession of his own Sisters, to Establish the Crown in the Lady Jane Grey, who he knew wou'd carry on the Work of Reformation.

There's an Instance of the Zeal for Succession in the Right Line in the First Protestant Head that ever the Church of England had.

After this, the Gospellers, that is, the Church of England Protestants of Suffolk, having some Sense of Injury done to the Princess Mary, and willing to have the Succession go on in the Right Line, provided they cou'd both preserve their Religion and Loyalty too; Capitulate with her, and promise to stand by her, provided she wou'd promise to preserve, and make no Alteration, in their Establish'd Church of England.

Here the Church of England Men own'd the Liberty of their Religion to be Superior to their Loyalty to her; and that they had a Right to Submit, or not to Submit, as their Liberty was, or was not, Secure: and accordingly Condition'd with her before they wou'd Acknowledge her to be their Queen.

And we see how Heaven punish'd them for venturing on the Word of a Prince when their Religion and Liberty was at Stake.

In this Queen's Time the Church having been again Suppress'd, and Popery Erected, Sir Thomas Wyat, an honest Church of England Protestant, with a very good Body of Men, took up Arms against their Lawful Princess for breaking her Word, in Defence of their Dear Religion Establish'd by Blessed King Edward, which were the very Words of the Manifesto they Publish'd: The Londoners, with 800 Men sent by the Queen against gainst them, thought it no Treachery to Desert their Lawful Popish Queen, and go over to their Protestant Church of England Brethren.

We have nothing to do with the Justification of this Fact, 'tis sufficient that so it was, and that these were Protestants of the Church of England, in the first and purest part of their Principles, and let them justifie the Fact if they please.

Queen Elizabeth Succeeds, and then the Church of England shone in its Meridian Glory; and then grew up some, who aiming, as I said before, at a further Reformation, and the Church refusing to hearken to it, form'd a new Party of Dissenters, and these were call'd Puritans, and since that Phanaticks.

Now I Challenge the Defender of this Cause to tell me one Disloyal Act, one Plot against the Government, one Disturbance of the Civil Peace, among these Dissenters, from the beginning of this Queen, which was their own beginning, to the Reign of King Charles I. which was a continued Term of 80 Years; and yet, during this time, they suffer'd all manner of Indignities, Reproaches, Fining, Imprisonings, Banishment, Confiscations, and Corporal Punishments.

So that hitherto the Passive Obedience of the Dissenters hath far exceeded that of the Church of England. These had but Five Years Oppression under Queen Mary, and in that Five Years they once Capitulated with their Soveraign to make her Queen upon Conditions, and once took Arms against her after she was Queen; and by that I must always understand, that if they did not Depose and Destroy her, it was because they cou'd not; and if they had done it, no doubt they had Cause sufficient to Justifie them before God and Man. The Puritans after this suffered all that their too cruel Brethren of the Church of England laid upon them during Three tedious Reigns, before they so much as made the least offer at doing themselves Justice; and for 80 Years together exercis'd that Passive Obedience which they never pretended to.

At last they took Arms, and when they did, they did it to purpose, carried all before them, subdued Monarchy, cut off their Kings Head, and all that.

After the Restoration Things began to return to their old Channel, and 30 Years more the Dissenters endur'd another Aegyptian Servitude, were Persecuted, Plunder'd, Indicted, Imprison'd, Plagu'd with Impositions, Stigmatiz'd with a Thousand Reproaches, their Meeting-Houses Demolish'd, their Estates Confiscated, their Persons Excommunicated, and Anathematiz'd, Sworn into Plots they never Heard of, and into Crimes they never Commltted, Dragg'd to Goals, Gibbets and Scaffolds, and the like; all this while Passive-Obedence, if there were any such thing, was found among them more than any where else; for here was no Rebellion, no Insurrection, nor breaking of the Peace by the Dissenters, notwithstanding all those Oppositions.

After this comes King James the Second to the Crown, and he turn'd the Scale, and, together with Invasion of Liberty, falls upon the Church, begins to Rifle her of her Trophies, for no Essentials had been touch'd, and how long did she bear it? Not 80 Years, not 30 Years, no, not so many Months.

What did she do? Truly nothing but what she ought to have done; Defend her Liberty and Religion by Force, against Unjust Invasion and Tyranny: nothing but what all the Nations in the World have done, and wou'd do again if they cou'd.

The only Error we Charge upon the Church of England, was setting up pretences of what they really wou'd not practice; crying up themselves for Fools, when we knew they were Wiser Men, calling themselves humble Slaves, but when the Trial came, proving Stubborn, Refractory, Liberty Mongers, even as bad as the worst Whig or Phanatick of them all.

For the future then, if a Humble Mediator might be permitted to give Advice to the Gentlemen of the Church of England, it shou'd be in these short and friendly Terms.

Pray Gentlemen never be Imposed upon, to pretend to more Loyalty, and more slavish Principles than you intend to practice.

Never pretend to more Obedience than your Sovereign requires. Our Late King, who I am not asham'd to show as a Pattern for future Ages, requir'd; and Her present Majesty, without Affront to Her Majesty's Authority it may be said, requires no further Obedience from the People of England than the Laws of England require.

To Govern according to Law, is a full Satisfaction to the People; and to obey according to Law, is a full Satisfaction to the Soveraign. The Laws are the Test both of the Royal Authority, and of the Subjects Obedience; and to pretend to more Obedience than the Law requires, is abusing your Prince, and abusing your Selves.

Never be ashamed to own, with your Brethren the Whigs, that you are willing to Submit to Authority but that you expect to be govern'd according to the Laws and Statutes of this Realm,

Let the Scoth Motto be set upon your Liberties; and according to your constant Practice, as well as theirs; let all Men know you design to make it Good, Nemo me Impune Lacessit.

And as it really never was the Principle of the Church of England, nor were a Hundredth Part of the Members of the Church tainted with it; so for the Future 'tis hoped you will not suffer such to Mingle themselves among you, or to Act in the Name of the Church of England, who pretend to a Blind Absolute Obedience to Princes.

And Lastly, Gentlemen, a little more Modesty to your Humble Servants, your Protestant Brethren the Dissenters, or Whigs, I mean as to Matter of Loyalty: For in Truth, Gentlemen, we do not see any Reason you have to Reproach us in that Matter, you being in every Particular as faulty that way as your Neighbours.

THE SHORTEST-WAY WITH THE DISSENTERS: OR, PROPOSALS FOR THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE CHURCH.

SIR Roger L'Estrange tells us a Story in his Collection of Fables, of the Cock and the Horses. The Cock was gotten to Roost in the Stable, among the Horses, and there being no Racks, or other Conveniencies for him, it seems, he was forc'd to Roost upon the Ground; the Horses jostling about for room and putting the Cock in danger of his Life, he gives them this grave Advice; Pray Gentlefolks let us stand still, for fear we should tread upon one another.

There are some People in the World, who now they are Ʋnpearcht, and reduc'd to an Equality with other People, and under strong and very just Apprehensions of being further Treated as they deserve, begin, with Aesop's-Cock, to Preach up Peace and Union, and the Christian Duties of Moderation, forgetting, that when they had the Power in their Hands, those Graces were Strangers in their Gates.

It is now near Fourteen Years that the Glory and Peace of the purest and most flourishing Church in the World has been Eclips'd, Buffetted, and Disturb'd, by a sort of Men, who God in his Providence has suffer'd to insult over her, and bring her down; these have been the Days of her Humiliation and Tribulation: She has born with an invincible Patience the Reproach of the Wicked, and God has at last heard her Prayers, and deliver'd her from the Oppression of the Stranger.

And now they find their Day is over, their Power gone, and the Throne of this Nation possest by a Royal, English, True, and ever Constant, Member of, and Friend to, the Church of England. Now they find that they are in danger of the Church of England's just Resentments; now they cry out Peace, Ʋnion, Forbearance, and Charity, as if the Church had not too long harbour'd her Enemies under her Wing, and nourish'd the Viperous Brood, till they hiss and fly in the Face of the Mother that cherish'd them.

No, Gentlemen, the Time of Mercy is past, your Day of Grace is over; you shou'd have practic'd Peace, and Moderation, and Charity, if you expected any your selves.

We have heard none of this Lesson for Fourteen Years past: We have been huff'd and bully'd with your Act of Toleration; you have told us that you are the Church establish'd by Law, as well as others; have set up your Canting-Synagogues at our Church-Doors, and the Church and Members have been loaded with Reproaches, with Oaths, Associations, Abjurations, and what not; where has been the Mercy, the forbearance, the Charity, you have shewn to tender Consciences of the Church of England, that cou'd not take Oaths as fast you made 'em; that having sworn Allegiance to their lawful and rightful King, cou'd not dlspence with that Oath, their King being still alive, and swear to your new Hodge-podge of a Dutch Government? These ha' been turn'd out of their Livings, and they and their Families left to starve; their Estates double Tax'd, to carry on a War they had no Hand in, and you got nothing by: What Account can you give of the Multitudes you have forc'd to comply, against their Consciences, with your new sophistical Politicks, who like new Converts in France, Sin because they can't Starve. And now the Tables are turn'd upon you, you must not be Persecuted, 'tis not a Christian Spirit.

You have Butcher'd one King Depos'd another King, and made a mock King of a Third; and yet you cou'd have the Face to expect to be employ'd and trusted by the Fourth; any Body that did not know the Temper of your Party, wou'd stand amaz'd at the Impudence, as well as Fully, to think of it.

Your Management of your Dutch Monarch, whom you reduc'd to a meer King of Cl—s, is enough to give any future Princes such an Idea of your Principles, as to warn them sufficiently from coming into your Clutches; and God be thank'd, the Queen is out of your Hands, knows you, and will have a care of you.

There is no doubt but the supream Authority of a Nation has in its self a Power, and a Right to that Power, to execute the Laws upon any part of that Nation it governs. The execution of the known Laws of the Land, and that with a weak and gentle Hand neither was all this phanatical Party of this Land have ever call'd Persecution; this they have magnified to a Height, that the Sufferings of the Hugonots in France were not to be compar'd with—Now to execute the known Laws of a Nation upon those who transgress them, after voluntarily consenting to the making those Laws, can never be call'd Persecution, but Justice. But Justice is always Violence to the Party offending, for every Man is Innocent in his own Eyes. The first execution of the Laws against Dissenters in England, was in the Days of King James the First; and what did it amount to, truly, the worst they suffer'd, was at their own request, to let them go to New-England, and erect a new Collony, and give them great Priviledges, Grants, and suitable Powers, keep them under Protection, and defend them against all Invaders, and receive no Taxes or Revenue from them. This was the cruelty of the Church of England, fatal Lenity! 'Twas the ruin of that excellent Prince, King Charles the First. Had King James sent all the Puritans in England away to the West-Indies, we had been a national, unmix'd, Church; the Church of England had been kept undivided and entire.

To requite the Lenity of the Father, they take up Arms against the Son; Conquer, Pursue, Take, Imprison, and at last put to Death, the Anointed of God, and Destroy the very Being and Nature of Government, setting up a fordid Impostor, who had neither Title to Govern, nor Understanding to Manage, but supplied that want with Power, bloody and desperate Councils and Craft, without Conscience.

Had not King James the First withheld the full execution of the Laws; had he given them strict Justice he had clear'd the Nation of them, and the Consequences had been plain; his Son had never been Murther'd by them, nor the Monarchy overwhelm'd; 'twas too much Mercy shewn them was the ruin of his Posterity, and the ruin of the Nations Peace. One would think the Dissenters should not have the Face to believe that we are to be wheedl'd and canted into Peace and Toleration, when they know that they have once requited us with a civil War, and once with an intollerable and unrighteous Persecution for our former Civility.

Nay to encourage us to be easie with them, 'tls apparent that they never had the Upper-hand of the Church, but they treated Her with all the Severity; with all the Reproach and Contempt as was possible: What Peace, and what Mercy did they shew the Loyal Gentry of the Church of England in the Time of their Triumphant Commonwealth? How did they put all the Gentry of England to Ransom, whether they were Actually in Arms for the King or not, making People compound for their Estates, and starve their Families? How did they treat the Clergy of the Church of England, sequester'd the Ministers, devour'd the Patrimony of the Church, and divided the Spoil, by sharing the Church-Lands among their Soldiers, and turning her Clergy out to starve? just such Measure as they have meted, shou'd be measur'd them again.

Charity and Love is the known Doctrine of the Church of England, and 'tis plain She has put it in Practice towards the Dissenters, even beyond what they ought, till She has been wanting to Her Self, and in effect, unkind to own Sons; particularly, in the too much Lenity of King James the First, mentioned before; had he so Rooted the Puritans from the Face of the Land, which he had an Opportunity early to ha' done, they had not had the Power to vex the Church, as since they have done.

IN the Days of King Charles the Second, how did the Church reward their Bloody Doings with Lenity and Mercy, except the Barbarous Regicides of the pretended Court of Justice: not a Soul suffer'd for all the Blood in an Unnatural War: King Charles came in all Mercy and Love, cherish'd them, prefer'd them, employ'd them, withheld the Rigour of the Law, and oftentimes, even against the Advice of his Parliament, gave them Liberty of Conscience; and how did they requite him wich the villainous Contrivance to Depose and Murther him and his Successor at the Rye-Plot.

KING James, as if Mercy was the inherent Quality of the Family, began his Reign with unusual Favour to them: Nor could their joining with the Duke of Monmouth against him move him to do himself Justice upon them; but that mistaken Prince thought to win them by Gentleness and Love, Poclaim'd an Universal Liberty to them, and rather discountenanc'd the Church of England than them; how they requited him all the World knows.

THE late Reign is too fresh in the Memory of all the World to need a Comment; how under Pretence of joining with the Church in redressing some Grievances, they pusht Things to that Extremity, in Conjunction wirh some mistaken Gentlemen, as to Depose the late King, as if the Grievance of the Nation cou'd not have been redress'd but by the absolute Ruin of the Prince: Here's an instance of their Temper, their Peace, and Charity. To what height they carried themselves during the Reign of a King of their own; how they crope into all Places of Trust and Profit; how they Insinuated into the Favour of the King, and were at first prefer'd to the highest Places in the Nation; how they engross'd the Ministry, and above all, how pitifully they Manag'd, is too plain to need any Remarks.

BUT particularly their Mercy and Charity, the Spirit of Union, they tell us so much of, has been remarkable in Scotland, if any Man wou'd see the Spirit of a Dissenter, let him look into Scotland: there they made entire Conquest of the Church, trampled down the Sacred Orders, and supprest the Episcopal Government, with an absolute, and as they suppose irretrievable Victory, tho' 'tis possible, they may find themselves Mistaken: Now 'twou'd be a very proper Question to ask their Impudent Advocate, the Observator, Pray how much Mercy and Favour did the Members of the Episcopal Church find in Scotland, from the Scotch Presbyterian Government; and I shall undertake for the Church of England, that the Dissenters shall still receive as much here, tho' they deserve but little.

In a small Treatise of the Sufferings of the Episcopal Clergy in Scotland, 'twill appear what Usage they met with, how they not only lost their Living, but in several Places, were plunder'd and abus'd in their Persons; the Ministers that cou'd not Conform, turn'd out with numerous Families, and no Maintenance, and hardly Charity enough left to relieve them with a bit of Bread; and the Cruelties of the Parties are innumerable, and not to be attempted in this short Piece.

And now to prevent the distant Cloud which they perceiv'd to hang over their Heads from England; with a true Presbyterian Policy, they put in for a Ʋnion of Nations, that England might unite their Church with the Kirk of Scotland, and their Presbyterian Members sit in our House of Commons, and their Assembly of Scotch canting Long Cloaks in our Convocation, what might have been if our Phanatick, Whiggish States-men continu'd, God only knows, but we hope we are out of fear of that now.

'Tis alled'd by some of the Faction, and they began to Bully us with it; that if we won't Unite with them, they will not settle the Crown with us again, but when Her Majesty Dies, will chuse a King for themselves.

If they won't, we must make them, and 'tis not the first time we have let them know that we are able. The Crowns of these Kingdoms have not so far disowned the Right of Succession, but they may retrieve it again, and if Scotland thinks to come off from a Successive to an Elective State of Government, England has not promised not to assist the Right Heir, and put them into Possession, without any regard to their ridiculous Settlements.

THESE are the Gentlemen, these their ways of treating the Church, both at home and abroad. Now let us examine the Reasons they pretend to give, why we shou'd be favourable to them, why we should continue and tolerate them among us.

First, THEY are very Numerous, they say, They are a great Part of the Nation, and we cannot Suppress them.

To this may be answer'd, 1. THEY are not so Numerous as the Protestants in France, and yet the French King effectually clear'd the Nation of them at once, and we don't find he Misses them at Home.

But I am not of the Opinion they are so Numerous as is pretended, their Party is more Numerous than their Persons, and those mistaken People of the Church who are misled and deluded by their wheedling Artifices, to join with them, make their Party the greatter; but those will open their Eyes, when the Government shall set heartily about the Work, and come off from them, as some Animals, which they say, always desert a House when 'tis likely to fall.

2dly. The more Numerous, the more Dangerous and therefore the more Need to Suppress them; and God has suffer'd us to bear them as Goads in our Sides, for not utterly extinguishing them long ago.

3dly. If we are to allow them, only because we cannot Suppress them, then it ought to be try'd whether we can or no; and I am of Opinion 'tis easie to be done, and cou'd prescribe Ways and Means, if it were proper, but I doubt not the Government will find effectual Methods for the rooting the Contagion from the Face of this Land.

ANOTHER Argument they use, which is this, That 'tis a Time of War, and we have need to Unite against the common Enemy.

WE answer, This common Enemy had been no Enemy, if they had not made him so; he was quiet, in peace, and no way disturb'd, or encroach'd upon us, and we know no reason we had to quarrel with him.

But further, We make no question but we are able to deal with this common Enemy without their help; but why must we unite with them, because of the Enemy? Will they go over to the Enemy, if we do not prevent it by a Union with them?—We are very well contented they shou'd, and make no question we shall be ready to deal with them and the common Enemy too, and better without them than with them.

Besides, if we have a common Enemy, there is the more need to be secure against our private Enemies; if there is one common Enemy, we have the less need to have an Enemy in our Bowels.

'Twas a great Argument some People used against Suppressing the Old Money, that 'twas a Time of War, and 'twas too great a Risque for the Nation to run, if we shou'd not master it, we shou'd be undone: and yet the Sequel prov'd the Hazard was not so great, but it might be master'd, and the Success was answerable. The Suppressing the Dissenters is not a harder Work, nor a Work of less Necessity to the Publick: we can never enjoy a settled uninterrupted Union and Tranquility in this Nation, till the Spirit of Whiggisme, Faction, and Schism is melted down like the Old-Money.

To talk of the Difficulty, is to Frighten our selves with Chimaeras and Notions of a Powerful Party, which are indeed a Party without Power; Difficulties often appear greater at a distance, than when they are search'd into with Judgment, and distinguish'd from the Vapours and Shadows that attend them.

We are not to be frightned with it; this Age is wiser than that, by all our own Experience, and theirs too; King Charles the First, had early supprest this Party, if he had took more deliberate Measures. In short, 'tis not worth arguing, to talk of their Arms, their Monmouths, and Shafts•urys, and Argiles are gone, their Dutch-Sanctuary is at an end, Heaven has made way for their Destruction, and if we do not close with the Divine occasion, we are to blame our selves, and may remember that we had once an opportunity to serve the Church of England, by extirpating her implacable Enemies, and having let slip the Minute that Heaven presented, may experimentally Complain, Post est Occasio Calva.

Here are some popular Objections in the way.

As First, THE Queen has promis'd them, to continue them in their Tolerated Liberty; and has told us She will be a Religious Observer of Her Word.

WHAT Her Majesty will do we cannot help, but what, as the Head of the Church, She ought to do, is another Case: Her Majesty has promised to Protect and Defend the Church of England, and if She cannot effectually do that without the Destruction of the Dissenters, She must of course dispence with one Promise to comply with another. But to answer this Cavil more effectually: Her Majesty did never promise to Maintain the Toleration, to the Destruction of the Church; but it is upon supposition that it may be compatible with the well being and safety of the Church ch which She had declar'd She would take especial Care of: Now if these two Interests clash, 'tis plain Her Majesties Intentions are to Upholds, Protect, Defend, and Establish the Church, and this we conceive is impossible.

Perhaps it may be said, THAT the Church is in no immediate danger from the Dissenters, and therefore 'tis time enough: But this is a weak Answer.

For first, IF a Danger be real, the Distance of it is no Argument against, but rather a Spur to quicken us to prevention, lest it be too late hereafter.

And 2dly, Here is the Opportunity, and the only one perhaps that ever the Church had to secure her self, and destroy her Enemies.

The Representatives of the Nation have now an Opportunity, the Time is come which all good Men ha' wish'd for, that the Gentlemen of England may serve the Church of England; now they are protected and encouraged by a Church of England Queen.

What will ye do for your Sister in the Day that She shall be spoken for?

If ever you will establish the best Christian Church in the World.

If ever you will suppress the Spirit of Enthusiosm.

If ever you will free the Nation from the viperous Brood that have so long suck'd the Blood of their Mother.

If ever you will leave your Posterity free from Faction and Rebellion, this is the time.

This is the time to pull up this Heretical Weed of Sedition, that has so long disturb'd the Peace of our Church, and poisoned the good Corn.

BUT, says another Hot and Cold Objector, this is renewing Fire and Faggot, reviving the Act De Heret. Comburendo: This will be Cruelty in its Nature, and Barbarous to all the World.

I answer, 'TIS Cruelty to kill a Snake or a Toad in cold Blood, but the Poyson of their Nature makes it a Charity to our Neighbours, to destroy those Creatures, not for any personal Injury receiv'd, but for prevention; not for the Evil they have done, but the Evil they may do.

Serpents, Toads, Vipers, &c. are noxious to the Body, and poison the sensative Life; these poyson the Soul, corrupt our Posterity, ensnare our Children, destroy the Vitals of our Happiness, our future Filicity, and contaminate the whole Mass.

Shall any Law be given to such wild Creatures? Some Beasts are for Sport, and the Huntsmen give them advantages of Ground; but some are knock'd on the Head by all possible ways of Violence and Surprize.

I do not prescribe Fire and Faggot, but as Scipio said of Carthage, Delenda est Carthago, They are to be Rooted out of this Nation, is ever we will Live in Peace, serve God, or enjoy our own: As for the Manner, I leave it to those Hands who have a Right to execute God's Justice on the Nations and the Church's Enemies,

BUT if we must be frighted from this Justice under the specious Pretences, and odious Sense of Cruelty, nothing will be effected: 'Twill be more Barbarous to our own Children, and dear Posterity, when they shall reproach their Fathers, as we do ours, and tell us, 'You had an Opportunity to Root out this Cursed Race from the World, under the Favour and Protection of a true English Queen; and out of your foolish Pity you spared them, because, forsooth, you would not be Cruel, and now our Church is Supprest and Persecuted, our Religion trampl'd under Foot, our Estates Plunder'd, our Persons Imprisoned, and dragg'd to Jails, Gibbets and Scaffolds; your sparing this Amalekite Race is our Destruction, your Mercy to them proves Cruelty to your poor Posterity.

HOW just will such Reflections be, when our Posterity shall fall under the merciless Clntches of this uncharitable Generation, when our Church shall be swallow'd up in Schism, Faction, Enthusiasm, and Confusion; when our Government shall be devolv'd upon Foreigners, and our Monarchy dwindled into a Republick.

'Twou'd be more rational for us, if we must spare this Generation, to summon our own to a general Massacre, and as we have brought them into the World Free, send them out so, and not betray them to Destruction by our supine Negligence, and then cry it is Mercy.

Moses was a Merciful Meek Man, and yet with what Fury did he run thro' the Camp, and cut the Camp, and cut the Throats of Three and thirty thousand of his dear Israelites, that were fallen into Idolatry; what was the reason? 'Twas Mercy to the rest, to make these Examples, to prevent the Destruction of the whole Army.

How many Millions of future Souls we save from Infection and Delusion, if the present Race of poison'd Spirits were purg'd from the Face of the Land.

'TIS vain to trifle in this matter, the light foolish handling of them by Mulcts, Fines, &c. 'tis their Glory and their Advantage, if the Gallows instead of the Counter, and the Gallies instead of the Fines, were the Reward of going to a Conventicle, to preach or hear, there wou'd not be so many Sufferers, the Spirit of Martyrdom is over; they that will go to Church to be chosen Sheriffs and Mayors, would go to forty Churches rather than be Hang'd.

If one severe Law were made, and punctually executed, that who ever was found at a Conventicle, shou'd be Banish'd the Nation, and the Preacher be Hang'd, we shou'd soon see an end of the Tale, they wou'd all come to Church; and one Age wou'd make us all One again.

TO talk of 5s. a Month for not coming to the Sacrament, and 1s. per Week for not coming to Church this is such a way of converting People as never was known, this is selling them a Liberty to transgress for so much Money: If it be not a Crime, why don't we give them full Licence? And if it be, no Price ought to compound for the committing it, for that is selling a Liberty to People to sin against God and the Government.

If it be a Crime of the highest Consequence both against the Peace and Welfare of the Nation, the Glory of God, the Good of the Church, and the Happiness of the Soul, let us rank it among capital Offences, and let it receive a Punishment in proportion to it.

We Hang Men for Trifles, and Banish them for things not worth naming, but an Offence against God and the Church, against the Welfare of the World, and the Dignity of Religion, shall be bought off for 5s. this is such a shame to a Christian Government, that 'tis with regret I transmit it to Posterity.

IF Men sin against God, affront his Ordinances, rebel against his Church, and disobey the Precepts of their Superiors, let them suffer as such capital Crimes deserve, so will Religion flourish, and this divided Nation be once again united.

And yet the Title of Barbarous and Cruel will soon be taken off from this Law too. I am not supposing that all the Dissenters in England shou'd be Hang'd or Banish'd, but as in cases of Rebellions and Insurrections, if a few of the Ring-leaders suffer, the Multitude are dismist, so a few obstinate People being made Examples, there's no doubt but the Severity of the Law would find a stop in the Compliance of the Multitude.

To make the reasonableness of this matter out of question, and more unanswerably plain, let us examine for what it is that this Nation is divided into Parties and Factions, and let us see how they can justifie a Separation, or we of the Church of England can justifie our bearing the Insults and Inconveniencies of the Party.

ONE of their leading Pastors, and a Man of as much Learning as most among them in his Answer to a Pamphlet, entituled, An Enquiry into the Occasional Conformity, hath these Words, P. 27. Do the Religion of the Church and the Meeting-bouses make two Religions? Wherein do they differ? The Substance of the same Religion is common to them both; and the Modes and Accidents are the things in which only they differ P. 28. Thirty nine Articles are given us for the summary of our Religion, Thirty six contain the Substance of it, wherein we agree; Three the additional Appendices, about which we have some differences.

Now, if as by their own acknowledgment, the Church of England is a true Church, and the Difference between them is only in a few Modes and Accidents, why should we expect that they will suffer Gallies, corporeal Punishment and Banishment for these Trifles; There is no question but they will be wiser, even their own Principles won't bear them out in it, they will certainly comply with the Laws, and with Reason, and tho' at the first, Severity may seem hard, the next Age will feel nothing of it, the Contagion will be rooted out, the Disease being cur'd, there will be no need of the Operation, but if they should venture to transgress, and fall into the Pit, all the World must condemn their Obstinacy, as being without ground from their own Principles.

Thus the Pretence of Cruelty will be taken off, and the Party actually supprest, and the Disquiets they have so often brought upon the Nation, prevented.

THEIR Numbers, and their Wealth, makes them Haughty, and that 'tis so far from being an Argument to perswade us to forbear them, that 'tis a Warning to us, without any more delay, to reconcile them to the Unity of the Church, or remove them from us.

AT present, Heaven be prais'd, they are not so Formidable as they have been, and 'tis our own fault if ever we suffer them to be so; Providence, and the Church of England, seems to join in this particular, that now the Destroyers of the Nations Peace may be overturn'd, and to this end the present Opportunity seems to be put into our Hands.

To this end Her present Majesty seems reserv'd to enjoy the Crown, that the Ecclesiastick as well as Civil Rights of the Nation may be restor'd by her Hand.

To this end the Face of Affairs have receiv'd such a Turn in the process of a few Months, as never has been before; the leading Men of the Nation, the universal cry of the People, the unanimous Request of the Clergy, agree in this, that the Deliverance of our Church is at Hand.

For this end has Providence given us such a Parliament, such a Convocation, such a Gentry, and such a Queen as we never had before.

AND what may be the Consequences of a Neglect of such Opportunities? The Succession of the Crown has but a dark Prospect, another Dutch Turn may make the Hopes of it ridiculous, and the Practice impossible: Be the House of our future Princes never so well inclin'd, they will be Foreigners; and many Years will be spent in suiting the Genius of Strangers to this Crown, and the Interests of the Nation; and how many Ages it may be before the English Throne be fill'd with so much Zeal and Candour, so much Tenderness, and hearty Affection to the Church, as we see it now cover'd with, who can imagine.

'Tis high time then for the Friends of the Church of England, to think of Building up, and Establishing her, in such a manner, that She may be no more Invaded by Foreigners, nor Divided by Factions, Schisms, and Error.

IF this cou'd be done by gentle and easie Methods, I shou'd be glad, but the Wound is corroded, the Vitals begin to mortifie, and nothing but Amputation of Members can compleat the Cure; all the ways of Tenderness and Compassion, all perswasive Arguments have been made use of in vain.

THE Humour of the Dissenters has so encreas'd among the People, that they hold the Church in Defiance, and the House of God is an Abomination among them: Nay, they have brought up their Posterity in such prepossest Aversions to our Holy Religion, that the ignorant Mob think we are all Idolaters, and Worshippers of Baal; and account it a Sin to come within the Walls of our Churches.

The primitive Christians were not more shie of a Heathen-Temple, or of Meat offer'd to Idols, nor the Jews of Swine's Flesh, than some of our Dissenters are of the Church, and the Divine Service solemnized therein.

THIS Obstinacy must be rooted out with the Profession of it, while the Generation are left at liberty daily to affront God Almighty, and dishonour his Holy Worship, we are wanting in our Duty to God, and our Mother the Church of England.

How can we answer it to God, to the Church, and to our Posterity, to leave them entangled with Fanaticism, Error, and Obstinacy, in the Bowels of the Nation; to leave them an Enemy in their Streets, that in time may involve them in the same Crimes, and endanger the utter Extirpation of Religion in the Nation.

WHAT's the Difference betwixt this, and being subjected to the Power of the Church of Rome, from whence we have reform'd? If one be an extream on one Hand, and one on another, 'tis equally Destructive to the Truth, to have Errors settled among us, let them be of what Nature they will.

Both are Enemies of our Church, and of our Peace, and why shou'd it not be as Criminal to admit an Enthusiast as a Jesuit? Why shou'd the Papist with his Seven Sacraments be worse than the Quaker with no Sacraments at all? Why should Religious-houses be more intollerable than Meeting-houses—Alas the Church of England? What with Popery on one Hand, and Schismaticks on the other; how has She been Crucified between two Thieves.

Now let us Crucifie the Thieves. Let her Foundations be Establish'd upon the Destruction of Her Enemies: The Doors of Mercy being always open to the returning Part of the deluded People: Let the Obstinate be rul'd with the Rod of Iron.

Let all true Sons of so Holy and Oppressed a Mother, exasperated by her Afflictions, harden their Hearts against those who have Oppress'd Her.

And may God Almighty put it into the Hearts of all the Friends of Truth, to lift up a Standard against Pride and Antichrist, that the Posterity of the Sons of Error may be rooted out from the Face of this Land for ever—.

A brief Explanation of a late Pamphlet, Entituled, The Shortest Way with the Dissenters.

THE Author professes he thought, when he wrote the Book, he shou'd never need to come to an Explication, and wonders to find there should be any reason for it.

If any Man take the Pains seriously to reflect upon the Contents, the Nature of the Thing, and the Manner of the Stile, it seems Impossible to imagine it should pass for any thing but an Irony.

That it is free from any Seditious design, either of stirring up the Dissenters to any Evil Practice by way of prevention; much less of animating others to their Destruction, will be plain, I think, to any Man that understands the present Constitution of England, and the Nature of our Government.

But since Ignorance, or Prejudice has led most Men to a hasty Censure of the Book, and several poor People are like to come under the Displeasure of the Government for it, in Justice to those who are in danger to suffer for it; in Humble submission to the Parliament and Council, who may be offended at it; and in Courtesie to all mistaken People, who it seems have not Penetrated into the real design: The Author presents the World with the Native Genuine Meaning and Design of the Paper, which he hopes may allay the Anger of the Government, or at least satisfie the minds of such as imagine a design to Enflame and Divide us.

The Paper, without the least retrospect to, or concern in the Publick Bills in Parliament, now depending; or any other Proceedings of either House, or of the Government relating to the Dissenters, whose Occasional Conformity the Author has constantly opposed, has its immediate Original from the Virulent Spirits of some Men who have thought fit to express themselves to the same Effect, in their Printed Books, tho' not in Words so plain, and at length, and by an Irony not Unusual; stands as a fair answer to several Books Published in this Liberty of the Press; which, if they had been handed to the Government with the same temper as this has, wou'd no question ha' found the same Treatment.

The Sermon Preach'd at Oxford, the New Association, the Poetical Observator, with numberless others; have said the same thing, in terms very little darker, and this Book stands fair to let those Gentlemen know that what they design can no farther take with Mankind than as their real meaning stands disguis'd by Artifice of words; but that when the Persecution and Destruction of the Dissenters, the very thing they drive at, is put into plain English, the whole Nation will start at the Notion, and Condemn the Author to be Hang'd for his Impudence.

The Author humbly hopes he shall find no harder Treatment for plain English without Design, than those Gentlemen for their Plain Design in Duller and Darker English.

Any Gentlemen who have Patience to peruse the Author of the New Association, will find Gallows, Galleys, Persecution and Destruction of the Dissenters are directly pointed at, as fairly intended, and design'd as in this shortest way, as, had it been real, can be pretended; there is as much Virulence against a Union with Scotland, against King WILLIAM's Government, and against the Line of Hannover there is as much Noise and Pains taken in Mr. S—s Sermon to blacken the Dissenters, and thereby to qualifie them for the Abhorrence of all Mankind, as is possible.

The meaning then of this Paper is in short to tell these Gentlemen,

1. That 'tis Nonsence to go round about, and tell us of the Crimes of the Dissenters, to prepare the World to believe they are not fit to Live in a Humane Society, that they are Enemies to the Government, and Law, to the QUEEN, and the Publick Peace, and the like; the shortest way, and the soonest, wou'd be to tell us plainly that they wou'd have them all hang'd, Banish'd and Destroyed.

2. But withal to acquaint those Gentlemen who fancy the time is come to bring it to pass, that they are mistaken, for that when the thing they mean, is put into plain English, the whole Nation replies with the Assyrian Captain, Is thy Servant a Dog, that he shou'd do these things? The Gentlemen are mistaken in every partlcular, it will not go down, the QUEEN, the Council, the Parliament are all Offended, to have it so much as suggested, that such a thing was possible to come into their Minds; and not a Man, but a Learned Mercer, not far from the Corner of Fanchurch-street, has been found to approve it.

Thus a poor Author has ventur'd to have all Mankind call him Villain and Traytor to his Country and Friends, for making other Peoples thoughts speak in his Words.

From this Declaration of his real design, he humbly hopes the Lords of Her Majesties Council, or the House of Parliament, will be no longer offended, and that the poor People in trouble on this Account shall be Pardoned or Excused.

He also desires that all men who have taken Offence at the Book, mistaking the Authors design; will suffer themselves to think again, and withhold their Censure till they find themselves qualified to make a Venture like this for the good of their Native Countrey.

As to Expressions which seem to reflect upon Persons or Nations; he declares them to be only the Cant of the Nonjuring Party Expos'd, and thinks it very necessary to let the World know that 'tis their usual Language with which they Treat the Late KING, the Scotch Ʋnion, and the Line of Hannover.

'Tis hard, after all, that this should not be perceived by all the Town, that not one man can see it, either Churchman or Dissenter.

That not the Dissenters themselves can see that this was the only way to satisfy them, that whatever the Parliament might think fit to do to restrain Occasional Communion, Persecution and Destruction was never in their intention, and that therefore they ha' nothing to do but to be quiet and easie.

For any thing in the manner of the Paper which may offend either the Government, Parliament, or private Persons, the Author humbly begs their Pardon, and protesting the Honesty of his intention, resolves, if the poor People now in Trouble may be excused, to throw himself upon the Favour of the Government rather than others shall be ruin'd for his mistakes.

A DIALOGUE BETWEEN A DISSENTER AND THE OBSERVATOR. CONCERNING The Shortest way with the Dissenters.

Dissen.

PRAY Sir, are you the Author of the Observator?

Obser.

Suppose it Sir, what then?

Dis.

Nay, don't be Angry, are you the reputed Author? A. Come off you Taught me in one of your Papers about Mr. F.

Obs.

And what then?

Dis.

Why I wanted a little Discourse with you.

Obs.

If it be Civil, as you say, you are Welcome, but you begin odly.

Dis.

My Questions may be Blunt, but you are not bound to Answer them, but let that be as you like 'em.

First, Pray who do you reckon is the Author of this Devilish Book, call'd, The Shortest Way?

Obs.

I shall Answer most of your Questions with a Question, I believe, and begin with you here.

Do you think my Name is Mr. Bellamy, that you take me for an Informer? Read the Gazette, there you have the Man with the Sharp Chin, and a Dutch Nose.

Dis.

Ay, but Sir, we begin to doubt that is not the true Author, that he has been only made the Tool of some other Party, who now they find the World Exasperated at it, have slipt out of the Noose, and left him it; we begin to be afraid the thing is a Reality, and there is such a design on foot.

Obs.

Your Answer, like Parson Jacobs Text, ought to be taken a pieces and Explain'd.

1, If you are not sure he is the Author, you Dissenters have done him a great deal of wrong, for you have rail'd at him more than all the rest of the World, and charg'd him with more Crimes than 'tis well possible for one Man to be Guilty of.

2. And yet by supposing him not to be the Author, yon suppose him to be very Honest to his Friends, that he bears all this without discovering them

3. As for your fears of a real design, to put the Shortest way in practice upon you, no Question there are abundance of People in the World, who would be glad there was not one of you left; I believe no Body doubts it.

Dis.

Pray who do you think they are?

Obs.

Sir your humble Servant; no Bellamy, I tell you not I Sir: If I were in a Plot with the Devil, I le never Evidence, besides Sir, I have no mind to have my Nose and Chin describ'd, but if you please I'll answer you Negatively, who I believe is not concern'd in it.

Dis.

That may be some Satisfaction, Sir.

Obs.

Not the Queen Sir, not the Parliament, not the Council, not the Army, not the Ministers of State, not the Government.

Dis.

Thou art a safe Man, thou'lt never go to Newgate for Negatives.

Obs.

No Sir, nor for Positives neither if I can help it; but you have had your Will at Catechising, and I ought to have my turn, let me ask you a few Questions too.

Dis.

You are welcome.

Obs.

Pray why are you Dissenters Angry at the Book call'd, The Shortest Way; 'Tis a little Mysterious, Sir, that tho the Church Men are Affronted, because 'twas Written against them, and the Dissenters are Affronted, because 'tis Wrote against them too, I don't well understand it, one sort must be Fools, that's certain.

Dis.

I don't care whether I understand it or no, he is a Rogue, a Villain, and I wish the Government had him, if I knew where he was, I'd deliver him up, and abate them the 501.

Obs.

Spoken like a Dissenter truly, so that I find you are Angry at him, because you don't understand him and the Government because they do.

Dis.

You are so sharp upon me, I do understand a little too, I understand he meddl'd with that he had nothing to do with, and he is a Man they say who has been the occasion of all this Persecution which is coming upon us, by railing at Occasional Conformity.

Obs.

If he expos'd you for Occasional Conformity, 'tis what you ought to have Rectify'd your selves, that you need not have been expos'd for it; and in that he was your Friend, for had you took the hint, and exploded the Practice, there had been no need of an Act of Parliament to force you to it.

Dis.

But what had he to do with that?

Obs.

Nay, what had Mr. How to do to meddle with it afterward, I'll assure you his Name is down in my Pocket-Book, and when any Man in England defends a Cause worse, I'll put his name out, and put t'others Name in: But pray Sir, why do you call this bringing Persecution upon you; do you suppose the Occasional Bill will be a Persecution?

Dis.

Without doubt it will.

Obs.

What sort of Persecution can you call it? it can't be a Persecution for Conscience sake.

Dis.

Why so Sir?

Obs.

Why pray Sir, suppose one of your Brethren Dissenters, who can go to the Meeting to Day, and to the Church to Morrow; take the Sacrament to Day fitting, and to Morrow to get a good place, go to Church and take it kneeling; wipe his Mouth and go home to Dinner, and so to Meeting again; suppose this Gentleman should be put up for Sherriff, or Lord Mayor, can this Man pretend Conscience not to Conform? I tell you Sir, Mr. How must make a better Answer to the matter before I can be convinc'd, you may call it Persecution but it can never be for Conscience sake.

Dis.

Persecution is Persecution, let it be for what sake it will, every man ought to be at liberty.

Obs.

Ay that is true, I am for Liberty for every man to serve God as is most agreeable to his Conscience: But this is not serving God at all: besides Sir, I could easily make it appear, this Act is for your Advantage, if you were a sort of People to be convinc'd.

Dis.

Pray, how Sir?

Obs.

Why Sir, it will purge you of all your half in half Professors. That's one thing; then it will put all those Gentlemen into a capacity of being in places and Parliaments, who tho' by this Act they are separated from you, and rejoin'd to the Church because they can conform, will still be friends to your Interest in all Publick Concerns; and therefore had I been to word the Bill so as to have done most harm, it shou'd have excluded all that ever were Dissenters, and have forc'd you to continue so, and not have accepted your return to the Church without a public Repentance.

Obs.

Well, well, you may perswade us 'tis for our advantage, but we don't like it, and therefore we hate him for medling with it; for what had he to do with it?

Obs.

About as much as you and I have to do with him, if a man meddles with what does not concern him, that's his Fault, and if we who really have nothing to do with him, meddle with him, that is our Fault, let the Government alone with him, have you nothing else to talk no?

Dis.

Why all the Town has talkt of him as well as we.

Obs.

Yes, and reckon'd up all his Faults, all the sins that ever he committed in his Life, and abundance more; be the man who he will, and what he will, I don't see but the best of us would be loth all the Faults we have should be reckon'd up and writ in our Foreheads, as his are.

Dis.

Oh, he has been a most wicked Wretch.

Obs.

You force a man to be an Advocate for One he has no kindness for; a wicked wretch you say; why has he been a Thief, a Murderer?

Dis.

No no, I don't mean that way.

Obs.

What has he been Clipper or Coyner?

Dis.

No no, nor that neither.

Obs.

Has he been a Whoremaster or a Drunkard, or a Swearer?

Dis.

No, I can't say so neither, but he broke and can't pay his Debts.

Obs.

If you had said he had broke and won't pay his Debts, you had said more to the purpose.

But I must do one piece of Justice to the man, tho' I love him no better than you do, that is this: That meeting a Gentleman in a Coffee-House, where I and every body else was railing at him, the Gentleman took us up with this short Speech.

Gentlemen, said, he, I know this D' Foe as well as any of you, and I was one of his Creditors, and I Compounded with him, and discharg'd him fully; and several Years afterward he sent for me, and tho' he was clearly discharg'd he paid me all the Remainder of his Debt Voluntarily, and of his own accord: And he told me, that as fast as God should enable him, he Intended to do so with every Body; when he had done, he desired me to set my Hand to a Paper to acknowledge it, which I readily did, and found a great many Names to the Paper, before me, and I think my self bound to own it, tho' I am no Friend to the Book he has wrote, no more than you. What do you think of this Story?

Dis.

Think of it, I don't belive it!

Obs.

I can't help that, nor I care not whether you do or no, but I assure you after I heard it, I never rail'd at him any more.

Dis.

Ay, but I'll rail at him for all that.

Obs.

You Dissenters are in something like Case with the Pharisees; when the Question was put to them by our Saviour about Johns Baptism; whether it was from Heaven or of Men. If a Man should ask you of the Shortest Way, was it wrote for you or against you? If you should say for us, you would be askt why then are you so mad with the Author? And if you should say against you, the People would laugh at you; for all Men but you see into it, and that a Dissenter wrote it; you must say therefore, we cannot tell, and consequently, that you rail at the Author for you can't tell what.

Dis.

But we don't count him a Dissenter.

Obs.

He has all the Marks of a Dissenter upon him, but want of Brains.

Dis.

Why are we so empty of Brains pray?

Obs.

There is reason for it, God has given you Equivalents.

Dis.

I don't understand you.

Obs.

That's a further Testimony of your being a Dissenter; why if you will have it, take it, I say, God Almighty would have seem'd unkind to you, if he had not given you a great deal of Grace? For he has given you but little Wit.

Dis.

Well, I hope they'll take him still, I should be glad to see him hang'd for it, I am sure he deserves it, I heard one met him a little while ago, wou'd I had been there.

Obs.

Alone do you mean Sir, or to have help'd the other?

Diss.

Any how, so I could but have taken him.

Obs.

Ay, and they say 'twas one of your own Party too, and one that wou'd fain have got the 50l. but that he drew upon him, Frighted him out of his Wits and made him down of his Knees and Swear that if ever he met him again, he should shut his eyes till he was half a mile off him.

Diss.

I don't think he's such a fighting Fellow.

Obs.

Do you know him?

Diss.

No not I.

Obs.

So I thought by your Charity and good Nature; I know him not neither, but the man has the Government upon his Back already, and if they take him they'l avenge your Quarrel for you. Let him alone, 'tis Ingenerous, as I said before in print, to triumph over a Man in his Affliction: 'Twas but a little while ago he wrote a Book that pleas'd you, and then you cry'd him up as much as now you cry him down.

Dis.

What Book pray?

Obs.

Why the New Test of Church of England Loyalty.

Dis.

Did he write that Book?

Obs.

I told you I was no Informer, go ask Mr. Bellamy;

Dis.

Why truly that was a good thing, I lik'd it fully. 'Twas well done, but this cursed Shortest-way is the Devil, he must be turn'd Rogue now, what ever he was then.

Obs.

Why, this 'tis to oblige a Dissenter, if you serve them a hundred times 'tis well, but once get your Head in the Pillory for them, and they'l be the first to palt you with rotten Eggs; what can't you set down one good thing and one bad, and ballance with him: You understand Accompts well enough; but you Dissenters, are like a Shop-keeper I knew, who having Traded 20 Year with a Gentleman, and serv'd all his Family and gotten a great deal of Money by him, at last the poor Gentleman fell to decay, and owing him 40s. the Shop-keeper abus'd him, and call'd him all the Knaves and Rogues for cheating him of 40s.

Dis.

No, no, this has spoilt all.

Obs.

Well, but we'll go back further with you There's the Reformation of Manners, and the True-born English-man there he pleas'd you for certain, for he is for reforming your Magistrates.

Dis.

I don't understand them, I am for Reformation as much as any Body.

Obs.

But what say you to the Legion Paper?

Dis.

Ay that was a good thing indeed.

Obs.

Well, but if he had been taken in doing that, wou'd you not have call'd him as many Rogues then as you do now?

Dis.

No indeed, shou'd I not?

Obs.

But I don't find you call him one Rogue the less for it now, and that's hard.

Dis.

Well, But you see he denies it, and challenges you to prove it.

Obs.

Ay, deny it, I told you he was no Fool, indeed I am not glad I Printed it, for tho' it is charged upon him by common Fame, I am not for hanging Men upon suppositions as you do.

Dis.

Well, you do well, and I think 'tis a little hard; the man is gone, and tho' he has done ill, he might mean no harm, and so let him alone, I reckon you won't be long before you follow him.

Obs.

And when I am gone, you'll call me as many Rogues as you do him, won't you?

Dis.

No, it may be I shan't, but I can tell you of some that do already.

Obs.

It's all one to me, common Fame like a common Strumpet, jilts every Body, but methinks Slander and Reproach, out of the Mouth of a Dissenter comes with some more than common ill savour.

Dis.

They think they have good reason for it upon you.

Obs.

And I think not, pray what are their good Reasons?

Dis.

For abusing your Friends?

Obs.

My Friends, prithee who are they? I know but very few I have, and I am very sure I never abus'd them.

Dis.

They all agree you would not be permitted to write so long, but the Party would have ruffled you before now, only you court them and please them by a Side-Wind, with your railing at King William's Friends sometimes.

Obs.

King William's Enemies you mean; look, Sir, I have as much Veneration for the Memory of King William as any of you, and do but once prove them to be King William's Friends, and I'll own all you say, and recant all I have wrote.

Dis.

It's easie to prove they were his Friends.

Obs.

Pray Sir, don't you Tax me with abusing King William, and abuse him your self, I have prov'd sufficiently they were the Nations Enemies: Now if you can prove the Nations Enemies were K. William's Friends, you'll make a fine spot of Work on't indeed.

Dis.

The Nations Enemies! That is, because being in great places, they got as much Money as they could, and so would you do, and so have all the Favourites that ever were or will be.

Obs.

When ever Favourites did, do or shall get Money by rapine or injustice, and oppression of the Subject, they were and will be the Nations Enemies and their Soveraigns too.

Dis.

But what have you to do with it? 'Tis none of your Business.

Obs.

'Tis every Mans business to discover mischief, fraud and ill design, as much as every Man who first spies Fire, has a duty upon him to raise the Neighbours: I am a Subject, and am Cheated among the rest.

Dis.

You Cheated, why what have you to lose?

Obs.

Why, my Liberty, which you said but now, every Man had a Right to, and my Money when I have it; what's that to you, how little, or much I have, and how do you know how much I may have hereafter.

Dis.

Nay, they say you get Money by Railing, and so you may soon be Rich.

Obs.

Then I Rail for something, and you get none, and yet you Rail; Pray who has the best Excuse for it?

Dis.

He that has the best Reason for it, not he that gets the most Money by it.

Obs.

I believe if you could get Money by Railing, you would count it the best Reason in the World.

Dis.

Why so?

Obs.

Because you are so willing to Rail at any Body, when you know not for what, nor why, and charge People with Crimes they never Committed; of all your Christian Duties, you make the least use of your Charity.

Dis.

Why, since you put so hard, I can tell the time when you abus'd King William himself, as openly as you durst speak it, or any body dare Print, particularly in a Poem of yours, call'd the Foreigners.

Obs.

How do you prove 'twas mine?

Dis.

Nay, they say 'twas yours, you were the Reputed Author, as you said in another case.

Obs.

I tell you, there's no People in the World so forward to Condemn a Man upon hear say, as the Dissenters, when they have a Mind to slander a Man, they take every thing upon trust, 'tis their Shortest Way.

Dis.

These Scribling People are always medling with things they have nothing to do with; what have you to do with Kings and Favourites, or that t'other Fellow with the Shortest Way: You Pamphleteers are always Quacking with the State.

Obs.

Come let's turn the Tables, now it's my Play, what have you to do with Acts of Parliaments; you Dissenters are always thrusting in your Oar too; what have you to do to talk of Persecution and Acts against Occasional Conformity, you are Mountebanking with the State too in every Coffee-House, Pray meddle with your own Business.

Dis.

We shall have to do with it, when we feel it.

Obs.

I am perswaded if you were put to it severely, few of you would stay to feel it, at least few of your Wealthy Members, few of Mr. Hows Mind, few of such Dissenters as go from Meeting to Church, and can back-stroke and fore-stroke, Communicate on both sides.

Dis.

I wish they may not, but we are afraid 'twill not only be a Persecution, but a very long one.

Obs.

Why then you are beholding to the Author we talkt of, for you see he is for putting you out of your Pain, but I am of a different Opinion from you in several of your darkest thoughts about Persecution.

Dis.

Pray what is your Opinion?

Obs.

1. I am of Opinion that if your Enemies were true Masters of Politicks, they would not Persecute you at all, I take you to be a declining Party, Toleration will be your Ruin; and if God in Mercy to you don't send a Persecution among you, you are lost, you will all dwindle back into the Church again; your old stock of Ministers dye off, your Owens, Mantons, Charnocks, Clarksons, Baxters, and Bates's are gone; and Pray what can you name out of the new Generation of your Leyden Doctors fit to succeed them.

2. The Occasional Bill at once carries off your Wealthy Members, who are the support of your Clergy, and as Mr. William's very well observed at Salters-Hall, If the Rich ones forsake you, the Party will be weaken'd so as to make you fear the Dissolution of the whole. Indeed the Gentleman was in the right, if the Wealthy Members quit the Congregations, 'twill make poor work for the Ministers, and they like other People Generally do their Work best where they have best Wages.

Dis.

I thought you had Lov'd the Dissenters better than to abuse them at this rate.

Obs.

I don't abuse them, I wish them clear of all their Hypocrites, and that there were none among them but what were Dissenters for meer Conscience: If that were so, 'twould make their Enemies at Peace with them, they'd never be Persecuted; the Government would Cherish them, and be as tender of them as they would desire. But to be plain with you, 'tis your own Pride, and Pushing at great things has made you Obnoxious, and withall your discovering by an Alternate double fac'd Conscience, that while you pretend to Dissent, and to have tender Consciences, you can nevertheless Conform, if you please; this makes your Enemies suspect your Honesty, and apprehend more trick and design in you, than I hope they need. Nay, this gives your Enemies such advantage against you, as you can never Answer.

Dis.

I do not think any Man ought to be confin'd by Laws and Acts of Parliaments about his Religion.

Obs.

It may be I think so too; but Men ought to be Honest to their own Principles, whether there were Laws or no; and if I see a Man pretend he can't Conform, and upon occasion I find he can, it makes me suspect his Honesty, and if I once think a Man a Knave, I am not to blame to fence my self against him by Laws: I tell you an Act of Parliament to keep you Honest, can never be call'd Persecution.

Dis.

Ay, if there was no more in it.

Obs.

If there be any more in it, I wish there was not, I'm sure I know not what is in it, and I believe you don't neither; Pray have you seen the Bill?

Dis.

No not I, but I hear 'tis a very Terrible Bill.

Obs.

True to the old way still, always to Judge before you Hear. Indeed I forgot to ask you, but on my Conscience I don't believe you ever read the Book of the Shortest way; Come, be Honest.

Dis.

Read it, why the very Out-side of that is enough for any Man to read; I thank God I spend my time better.

Obs.

I think you ought to spend your time better too, than to give your Verdict upon any thing before you read it.

Dis.

You are a strange Man, why every body says 'tis a horrible Book, and not fit to be read, but what's that to this Act of Parliament?

Obs.

Why thus much 'tis, that you cry out Persecution from this Act of Parliament, and there's not a word of Persecution in it.

Dis.

I think 'tis Persecution, if I must not be at Liberty to Worship God as I think fit.

Obs.

Still you are without Book, why you may be a Dissenter all the days of your Life, and go to Meetings as long as you live, and never be troubled by this Act.

Dis.

I can't imagine what you mean, why I must Pay, God knows what, if I am seen at a Meeting.

Obs.

Ay, Sir, that's after you have strain'd your Conscience from the Meeting to the Church; after you have bob'd your Religion to be Sheriff of London, or the like; and then want to go back again; but if you, to keep your Conscience, can be content to be without these gay things call'd Places, you may be a Dissenter to the end of the Chapter: So that this will only be a Persecution for Honour sake, not for Conscience sake, and never fall upon you neither, till you bring it upon your self.

Dis.

Well, I hope it won't pass for all that.

Obs.

I hope so too, but if it don't, it must be the Lords doing, and it will be marvellous in our Eyes.

Dis.

The House of Lords you mean, I suppose.

Obs.

I must mean as you will have me, let it be how it will, but if I hope it will not pass, it's from different reasons with you.

Dis.

Pray, your reasons?

Obs.

Because I am against (and ever shall be) Imposing any Religious Ordinance or part of Worship as a Qualification for any Temporal Employment. Let the Princes be at full liberty to employ who, or what sort of their Subjects they see Cause. 2. Such impositions are a Bait to People to Banter their Consciences, and to comply with that for a Preferment, which otherwise they wou'd not, and so seem to lead them into Temptation: But I don't know the Contents of the Bill, therefore I'll say no more.

Diss.

And I wou'd not have it pass, because I take it to be a Foundation of Persecution; 'tis but pulling down the Toleration next, and then we are all undone.

Obs.

You Faithless and Perverse Generation! Has not the QUEEN promis'd to maintain your Toleration? Besides, what's that to the Bill?

Diss.

Why shou'd not we be afraid of it, as well as some of the Church-Party have the confidence to hope it? Nay, to condemn the Toleration as Antichristian, and threaten us with the having it overthrown.

Obs.

Why these are for the Shortest way; you ought to rail at them as much as you do at the Man with the hook Nose, and sharp Chin, and more too; and no doubt but if you would turn Informer, you might hook their Noses into the Gazett too, to be sure the Government would not allow of it; they would never suffer the QUEEN to be so affronted.

Diss.

I don't know how 'tis, such things are suffer'd daily. I heard our Parson t'other day say at a Publick Dinner 'twou'd never be well with England till some Course was taken to reconcile all Dissenters to the Church, Longest way, or Sherrest, 'twas all one to him; he said he hop'd to see the Church flourish without them; and a great deal more, and worse than this.

Diss.

That was a topping high-flying Gentleman indeed, and why did you not acquaint the Government with it?

Diss.

What do you think I am an Informer? My Name is not Bellamy any more than yours, but pray why do you make so strange of it? Don't we hear daily People expressing their high flying hopes that a Parliament in Scotland will restore Episcopacy there, and yet has not the Queen given Her word, and published it in our Gazett, that she will maintain the Presbyterian Government there.

Obs.

Has she so? Then tho' they have the impudence to hope, you ought not to have the ignorance to fear it. The QUEEN gave her Word to maintain it! be not slow of Heart to believe. She has taken up the famous Motto of Q. Elizabeth, Semper Eadem, and can you so much as doubt she will deface it, for a few Scotch Bishops.

Diss.

I am sorry for my fears, I beg Her Majesties Pardon, there are so many Turns and Windings in Law and State matters, that we know not what to say to things.

Obs.

Say! Why a promise is a promise, and you may depend upon it, she has never broke her Word with us yet.

Diss.

Aye, but what if the Parliament should do it?

Obs.

Nay, if the Parliament does it, we do it our selves.

Diss.

Very good, so that we may be undone, and the Toleration Bill taken away; and yet the QUEEN be as good as Her Word still.

Obs.

Yes Sir, so you may, whenever an Act of Parliament becomes so without the Royal Assent, and when do you think that can be.

Diss.

Why then these High-Flying Church-Men are very impudent Fellows, to suggest such things of the QUEEN, and to bully us with overturning the Toleration, and put us in such fears of what they will do to us, when it can never be done without the QEEN's acting so directly against Her Royal-Promise.

Obs.

Well, and what then?

Dis.

Why I think they ought to be us'd as they us'd the Author of the Shortest Way, Gazetted and a Reward for the Discoverer.

Obs.

Or as you have us'd him rather, viz. Rail at them, for being of your own side: you Dissenters are rare Fellows for Punishments, if God should have no more Mercy on you, than you shew to all Men that offend you, we should have Plagues, Pestilence, and Famine every Year upon us; so now you are come about again, these High-Flying Churchmen have Bully'd you with the fears of losing your Toleration, come confess.

Diss.

Yes.

Obs.

And made you distrrst the QUEEN's Veracity.

Diss.

Yes, GOD and the QUEEN forgive us.

Obs.

And have Terrifi'd you with what things they'll do when they have pull'd down your Antichristian Toleration, have they not?

Dis.

Ay, Ay.

Obs.

And so you thought the Shortest Way was Wrote to make a beginning with you, and to set the Dragoons of the Church upon your Backs; did you not?

Dis.

'Tis very true.

Obs.

And continued of the same mind like an Ignoramus, tho' you heard 'twas Wrote by one of your own Party.

Dis.

Indeed I did.

Obs.

Now pray, after so much patience as I have had with you, have a little with me; and if I can, I'le set you right in your Thoughts of these things.

There are a sort of People among the Dissenters who can either Dissent or Conform, as they find their Inclinations or Interest rather directs them, these by their Wealth and Interest have always put themselves into good places, and qualifi'd themselves for that purpose, by taking the Sacrament: Of these People, even the most moderate Church Men have an ill Opinion, and truly so have Two Thirds of your own Friends, for it looks as if they were Men of no Principles at all.

Against these Men the Act against Occasional Conformity is principally design'd, and if there was nothing else in the Bill, I believe no good Man would be against it.

Concerning these things, Two sorts of People have been very grosly mistaken, and upon their Mistakes have proceeded to Act very Foolishly.

First, The high Flying Church Party begun to think, all was a going their own way, and that the Government would fall in with them, and do your business for you, and away they run with the Notion, and Preach you down, and Print you down, and Talk you down like Mad Men; there is Sermon upon Sermon, Pamphlet upon Pamphlet: One says you are all Rogues and Hypocrites, another says you are Enemies to the Government, one Flies at the Toleration, and tells the World 'tis Destructive to the Nations Happiness, and the Politicians must pull it down; another says 'tis Antichristian, and we cannot be true Sons of the Church of England, if we don't pull it down; others like hare-brain'd Huntsmen that over run the Hounds roar you down with full Cry, till they run themselves out of Breath; others are for having you depriv'd of Voices in Elections of Parliaments, in hopes of Arriving to that Blessed Day, when they shall have a Parliament of their own Mind; and thus they Run before they are Sent, and without Reflecting upon their ill grounded Zeal, without examining any Authorities, other than their Passions, without regard to good manners, taking no Notice of the Preamble of the Act of Parliament, which Declares against Persecution, or the Honour and Sacred Promise of Her MAJESTY, given to make Her Subjects easie, they blow up the Fire of Persecution and Destruction, whether the Government will or no.

You are the next sort of People, who are mistaken, for being Naturally a little Hypish, as the Beaus call it, troubled with the Spleen, and Hypocondriack Vapours, this Cloud of Raillery so darken'd your Understanding, that you presently take these People and the QUEEN, these People and the Government, these People and the Parliament, to be all of a mind; and the QUEEN having displac't all your Friends, as 'tis but just, That all Princes should employ who they please: And the Parliament falling on your Occasional Conformers, and this Book of the Shortest way coming out altogether, the high Church Party Thundred at you from the Press and the Pulpit: Away you run with the Notion that you are all to be blown up, that all these Things aim'd at your Destruction, and that Fire and Faggot was at the Door.

But the Government is steady, and the QUEEN still has maintained her Motto, the Parliament steers in the middle way, going about to restrain, but not to destroy you; and taking no notice either of the heat of one party, or Folly of the other, they hold the Ballance of your Liberty between your exorbitant License, and the other party's unchristian Fury; and in my opinion, thus far are you safe.

Dis.

But then why has not the Government thought fit to disown the Zeal of these High-flyers, by punishment, and make Examples of some of them?

Obs.

I told you, the Dissenters were all for Punishments and Examples, for the same reason that they have not punished you for supecting the QUEEN's Honesty to her word, charging the Parliament with going about to persecute you, and the like; for this reason, because they are more merciful than both parties deserve.

Dis.

'Twould have convinc'd us very plainly of two very significant Things. First, That there is such a Design, and then that the Authors of it receiv'd no Countenance from Court.

Obs.

Good Manners and Common Justice ought to have convinc'd you of the last, and your Author of the Shortest way, to his Cost, open'd your Eyes in the first, if you had not wilfully shut them against the Light.

1. Good Manners would inform you, not to doubt the Word of your Prince, 'till you had some reason from Her MAJESTY her self.

2. Common Justice commands us to suppose every Person just and honest, till something appears to the contrary; and it is a very unchristian, uncharitable way of teaching the QUEEN, That because some of the high Church-men have had the Indiscretion, without her Authority, to swagger you out of your Senses; therefore you must suppose her Promise broken, and her Word of no value.

The Author of the Shortest way comes with a Lanthorn for you, and he sums up all the black Things this high Party had publish'd, into one General, and if you had any Eyes, you might learn two Things from which he is like to pay dear enough for teaching you.

First, From the general abhorrence Mankind shewed of the Book, you might learn that the destruction of our Party is a Cruelty not to be found in the English Nature.

Secondly, From the Out-cry made against it by that Party in particular, you might learn who they were that were toucht in the Book, and where the design against them lay.

As to the Quarrel you Dissenters have at the Book, That's a Mystery no Man can Unriddle but your selves. 'Tis like Mr. Mead's Wheel within a Wheel, and a further Testimony to the World that you are a most unaccountable People, whose ways are past finding out.

Dis.

So that you would go about to perswade me the Book was writ of our side.

Obs.

First, Sir, 'tis hard to know what side you are of, and

Secondly, Sir, I know you too well to go about to perswade you to any thing, whose peculiar Talent is to be unperswadeable; but if you will please to answer me a few Questions you may perhaps perswade your self of something or other.

Dis.

What Questions?

Obs.

Why are the high Church-men angry with him, while at the same time they openly declare 'tis the only way to deal with you, and what they would feign be at?

Dis.

Truely you puzzle me a little there.

Obs.

They are angry, because they take the Book as the Author meant it, and you, because you take it as he wrote it, they as he meant, viz. to expose them, and tho' they are heartily willing to do you a Kindness that way, and have shewn their good Will by their words, yet knowing they wanted Power to Execute it, and being conscious to themselves that the Government was not of their Opinion; they are enrag'd to have all their designs laid open in Minature, and an Abridgment communicated to the World in true Billingsgate.

Dis.

There may be some truth in this, but Pray why then is the Government so angry with him? I believe I have puzzled you now.

Obs.

No, no, the Government may have Reasons to be Angry that You nor I know not of, nor have nothing to do with: But what if I should suppose,

That the Government not thinking any Person could be so Barbarous to harbour such a Villainous Design as the Book suggests; are displeas'd at it as an affront done to the Church of England to Father Principles of Cruelty and Destruction upon her Members, which they are not guilty off.

I say, if I suppose this to be a Reason, I believe you cannot suppose a better.

Dis.

I confess, I begin to have better Thoughts of the Government than I had.

Obs.

I'm glad of that.

Dis.

I begin to hope they won't Persecute us now, and as for Occasional Conformity, what care I? I shall never be Lord Mayor or Common Councilman; If I am call'd to it, 'tis time enough to come off then.

Obs.

God Almighty is wonderfully beholden to you, when he calls you from a middle State to a good place, you'll take it for granted He calls you from the Meeting to the Church, and you'll be sure to come. But I tell you, you ought to be so far from the fear of a Persecution, that if you have any respect to your Party, you ought to pray for a Persecution upon them, or ye are all undone.

Dis.

Why, thou art mad, thou art for the Shortest Way.

Obs.

No, no, I an't for such Persecution neither, but I told you my mind before, I am sure you haue received more damage in your Interest as Dissenters, and more weakned your Reputation as well as your Number, since the late Tolleration, than ever your Enemies did for you by all the Penal Laws, Informers, Fines, and Prisons of the last Persecution.

Dis.

Well, but here's another danger upon us that we han't talk of yet, and fear it will come upon us too.

Obs.

Pray what's that?

Dis.

We are affraid that this restless Party will overthrow our Settlement, for they do not stick to talk that way.

Obs.

We affraid, who do you mean by we? Are not the Church of England as much concern'd in the Settlement as you and more too, as they are the major part of the Nation? And We (if you will give me leave to talk your way) We Protestants fear nothing for our Settlement, and for this, I'll give you a Quotation from the Man with the hook Nose, and sharp Chin, it may be you won't like it because of the Author, but his words are these, The Settlement of the Crown (says he) is the Basis of our Religion, Laws and Liberties. This is the solid Bottom on which we all stand, and of which, with Respect to Civil Right, may be said Other Foundation can no Man lay than that which is laid. 'Tis the Rock on which we are all Built; and that Stone of which, according to the Scripture, it may without Prophaneness be said, Whosoever it falls upon, he will be broken to pieces, but on whomsoever it shall fall, it will grind him to Powder.

'Tis the last thing the People of England will part with after all their Estates, Wives and Children, Churches and Houses are destroyed.

'Tis the Pledge of the Divine Goodness to the Nation, which they purchas'd at the expence of 50 Millions of Money, and the Blood of above 100000 Englishmen in eleven Years War.

'Twas one of the great things King William did for us, and the Treasure God and His Majesty left in our Hands in trust for our Posterity; which if we part with, our Children will curse our Memory, and digg us out of our Graves.

'Tis a thing so Sacred the dissolving of it cannot be mention'd without a Crime, nor so much as intended without being Guilty of Treason in the most intense degree.

'Tis the Solid Prop, upon which stands Her present Majesties Throne, and the right and just Title She has to Govern us.

'Tis like the two Pillars in the House of Dagon whoever pulls them down will, like Sampson be Buried in the Ruins, and pull the whole Nation upon their Heads.

I Fear nothing for this Settlement; the Parliament of England are the Trustees for the seeing it forth coming to the People of England, and a Parliament of England will never betray their trust.

The Parliament will not, and all the rest of Humane Power dare not attempt to dissolve it, no Weapon form'd against it can prosper.

Dis.

Is this done by our Shortest Way Man?

Obs.

The very same.

Dis.

Well, I shall love him the better for it: But there's one thing more still, what say you to the Prince of Wales? If ever he comes again you'll be Hang'd, that's for certain.

Obs.

And if ever we let him come we ought all to be Hang'd, I can do no better than refer you to the same Author.

The Act of Settlement (says he) and the Prince of Wales are the two Bucketts, keep one but up and the other must be down, and put the one down, and the other comes up of Course: There can be no pretence made to alter or dispose the Settlement, but the bringing in the Prince of Wales; therefore whoever they are that mention it, we ought to suppose they wou'd be so understood.

Dis.

So that you are of Opinion we are in no danger of our Settlement.

Obs.

Indeed I am of the Opinion your Fears both of the Prince of Wales, and of altering the Settlement, and of Persecution, are all groundless and equally so. I would only advise the Dissenters to be honest to their own Principles; if they can conform they ought to do it, if they cannot, no body forces them; let them dissent, and not for the desire of preferment bring such a Scandal upon their integrity, as if they were Men of no Principles. 'Tis scandalous to the very Name of a Dissenter, and injurious to all the rest of that Body who are honest and conscientious.

And so I bid you Farewel.

LEX TALIONIS. OR, AN ENQUIRY INTO The most Proper Ways to Prevent THE PERSECUTION OF THE Protestants in France.

EƲROPE has now for nine Years past been afflicted with a Bloody, a Cruel, and a Destructive War, carried on with a vast Effusion of Blood and Treasure; and in all Parts of it manag'd with more Eagerness and Fury, than any War among the European Princes ever was in the Memory of Man.

The French, who are Masters of Address, used all the Skill and Cunning with the Roman Catholick Princes, especially those of Italy, to have made it pass for a War of Religion, thinking by that fineness to have drawn them off from the Confederacy. But Innocent XI. who, 'twas likely, knew as much of Religion, and the Interest of the Church, as the Statesmen of France, saw through that Artifice, and readily agreed with the Emperour, and the King of Spain, That the Growing Greatness of France, and the Measures laid for the Subjecting Europe to her Government were really more dangerous things, and of more immediate Consequence to the Publick Liberty, than the Matter of Religion could be: And therefore, tho' the Court of Rome made some seeming Difficulties at first; yet the French having thrown off the Mask, and fallen upon his Catholick Confederate the Duke of Savoy, the most Bigotted Romanist made no scruple to entertain the Heretick Soldiers, to recall the banish'd Vaudois, to fight under the Command of Protestant Generals, to accept of the Subsidial Supplies of Protestant Money, and the protection of Protestant Armies; thereby evidently declaring to the World, that this was a War of State, not of Religion; and that the real Interest of Princes, is to preserve themselves, and their Subjects, against a too powerful Invader, by Leagues and Assistances, let their Religious Interests be what they will.

Nor have the Protestant Princes tho' their Forces in this Confederacy have been much Superior, been backward to push on the Common Interest with their utmost Vigour, but have with extraordinary chearfulness assisted the Roman Catholick Confederates with their Armies, Fleets, and Moneys; witness the Subsidies paid to the Duke of Savoy, by the English and Dutch; the Army maintain'd, under the Command of Duke Schombergh in English pay in Piedmont; the Forces Ship'd from England to Catalonia, to aid the Spaniard, which sav'd the City of Barcelona a whole Year; Witness also the English Fleet Wintering at Cadiz, under Admiral Russel; the Squadron sent to the West-Indies, to Relieve Carthagena: And indeed the whole Series of the War has been one continual Instance of the Safety and Protection the Roman Catholick Countries have enjoy'd by the Sword and Power of the Protestant Interest.

So that it has been apparent beyond the power of Contradiction, that this has been a War of State, not a War of Religion: Nor can I imagine, generally speaking, that it can ever be the Interest of the Powers of Europe, take them together, to Commence a War of Religion: For tho' 'tis true, That the Pope always Exalted both his Power and Credit, in the blind Ages of bigotted Devotion, by his Crusadoes and Holy Expeditions; yet since, the World has more Years over its Head, and the Cheat has been discovered, Int'rest has prevail'd too much upon Devotion to be deceiv'd any more at that rate: And the Reformed Kingdoms of Europe, are too potent to be us'd so any more.

'Tis true, the Protestant Religion has lost Ground in France; and that Kingdom where once the Protestants were Strong enough to Contend with their Governours for their Liberty, is now wholly Roman, at least seems to be so. But notwithstanding that, I believe the Protestant Interest in Europe, very well able to stand a shock with the Popish, when ever the Pope thinks fit to publish another Bloody Jubilee, and display the Standard of St. Peter against St. Paul. And not to descend to particulars, I shall only Draw up the several Kingdoms, on each Side, who would form this Great Division in Case of such a War.

On the Roman Catholick Side,

There would be the Emperor, the Pope, the King of France, the King of Spain, the King of Portugal, the King of Poland, the Princes of Italy, Five Electoral Princes of Germany, and the Catholick Cantons of Swisserland.

On the Protestant Side,

The King of England, King of Denmark, King of Sweden, the Czar of Moscovy, States of Holland, Three Electoral Princes of Germany, but those by far the Strongest; the Protestant Cantons of Swisserland, the Grisons, Hungarians, Transilvanians, and Moldaviaens.

In the first place, I think it wou'd easily be granted, That the English, Dutch, Dane, and Swede, United; wou'd be able to Maintain so absolute a Dominion of the Seas, as would entirely Ruin the Negotiation of the Catholick Party, Beggar their Merchants, Starve their Islands, and Destroy all their Trade: They should never be able to Build a Ship without Leave; their Ports should be Bombarded and Destroy'd, their Open Country be Ruin'd by Descents, and all their Coasts continually Harrass'd and Alarm'd by Fleets, and Volant Parties.

What the Armies at Land could do, I referr to the History of the Present War, and of Gustavus Adolphus King of Sweden; who, barely on a War of Religion, and with only his Own single Force, and the Protestant Princes of Germany, who were then much Weaker than they are now, in Two Years and a half pass'd the Rhine and the Danube, and shook the Imperial Crown on the Head of Ferdinand the Second.

It would take up too much room in this short Treatise, to Consider the Proportion of the Force of these Nations in general; 'tis true that the weight of the Force of the Catholick Party, lies in the Power of the French; who must, in such a Case, be the Bulwark and Support of their Cause.

As to the Spaniard, he wou'd as he has in all Cases have Work enough to Secure his Own; the Empires separated from the Protestant Party, with the Swede, Dane, Brandenburghers, Saxons, and all the Prince of the Augustane Confession on its Front, with the Protestants of Ʋpper Hungaria and Transilvania in the Rear, with the Switz and Grisons in the Flank, wou'd be very hard bestead, having no Power but the Bavarian, and the small Electorates of Ments, Triers and Cologne, which are of no Consideration to uphold it. Some Support might be drawn from Italy indeed; but the French must give a powerful Assistance, or the Emperor would be Devoured in two Campaigns, the English, Dutch, and Eastern Germans, as the Lunenburghers of Hannover and Brunswick, would be the Opposites to the French on this side, and there the Contention would be strongest.

I believe no Wise Man wishes for so Universal a Distraction as such a War would make in Europe, but 'tis needful to suppose such a Thing, in order to Examine whether we ought to apprehend any Danger from it, in case such an Attempt shou'd ever be made in Europe; for 'tis apparent, some Princes of the Roman Catholick Party, have Will enough to such an Enterprize, and the Pope would be forward enough to set it on Foot, if he were but sure of the Success.

The glorious Peace of Reswick, in which all the World must acknowledge the French have been very much reduc'd, has but One Clause that any way Eclipses the Honour of its Conclusion on the Protestant side, and that is, that it left the Poor Protestant Subjects of the King of France, without any shelter from the Violences of their Persecutors; as if the Protestant Princes had so much excluded the Int'rests of Religion from the Articles, that they had not one Compassionate Thought for their Distressed persecuted Brethren. 'Tis true, the War was wholly a War of State, as is before noted, and the Invasion of Property was the Occasion of it; and therefore the Surrender of Luxemburgh to the Spaniard, who is a Roman Catholick, nay, a few Villages in the Chattelany of Aeth, made more Bustle in the Treaty, than the Restoration of Three Hundred Thousand banish'd Christians to their Country and Estates.

Some have presum'd to say, That had the Restoration of the Edict of Nants been insisted on with the same Vigour as the Dutchy of Lorrain, it wou'd as easily have been obtain'd; and these People, among whom some of the French Refugees are of that Mind, think the Protestant Int'rest was not so much Considered in that Treaty as it ought to have been. I cou'd easily Answer such Objectors, by telling them, That the Ground of this War being only Matter of Right, to reduce the Power of France to a Balance, and to oblige her to restore what she had by Force and Injustice taken from her Neighbours; this being obtain'd, the End was answer'd, and the Confederate Princes had no farther Pretence for a War: As to the Protestant Refugees, they were the Subjects of the King of France, and strictly speaking with respect of Princes, no body had any thing to do with it, let him use them how he would.

Besides, to have made it an Article of the Peace, it could not be expected that the Catholick Branches of the Confederacy would have insisted on it, or, indeed, have desired it, and the Treaty being Manag'd in one Body, by the Resolutions and Measures of several Princes and States in Congress, the Catholick Princes would have immediately protested against it, and the Union must have been Dissolved.

So that there was no room to Espouse the Interests of the Protestant Subjects of France in the General Treaty, any other Way than by Intercession with their King to use them Mercifully: And this has been done by all Parties, tho' hitherto without Success.

It remains now to examine what Methods are further to be used, in order to oblige the King of France to use his Protestant Subjects with more Humanity, and if possible, either to preserve them that Peace and Enjoyment of their Properties and Estates, which is their Natural Right; or to procure them some other Equivalent which may give them some kind of Satisfaction and Repose.

To Commence a War against the King of France, for the Prosecution of His Protestant Subjects, seems to be very Unjust; because Speaking of Right and Wrong, we are not Interested in the Quarrel. I make no Question but the Protestants of France themselves have, by the Laws of Nature and Reason, a right to Defend their own Possessions and Inheritances, and to Maintain themselves in them by Force, if they had a Power; and by the same Rule might by Strength of Hand recover and take Possession of their own Rights, be they never so Just. Only thus far 'tis plain, That by the particular Article of the Peace of Reswick, respecting the Kings of England and France; England is fore-closed from such an Attempt, both Sides having expresly Stipulated not to Assist the Subjects of either against their Soveraign. The Fourth Article of the said Treaty, ptoviding as follows, (viz.)

And since the most Christian King was never more desirous of any thing, than that the Peace be Firm and Inviolable, the said King Promises and Agrees for Himself and His Successors, That he will on no Account whatsoever disturb the said King of Great Britain in the free Possession of the Kingdoms, Countries, Lands or Dominions which He now Enjoys, and therefore Engages His Honour, upon the Faith, and Word of a King, that He will not give or Afford any Assistance, directly or indirectly, to any Enemy or Enemies of the said King of Great Britain; and that He will in no manner whatsoever favour the Conspiracies or Plots which any Rebels, or ill-disposed Persons, may in any Place Excite or Contrive against the said King; and for that End Promises and Engages, That He will not Assist with Arms, Ammunition, Provisions, Ships, or Money, or in any other way, by Sea or Land, any Person or Persons, who shall hereafter, under any Pretence whatsoever, Disturb or Molest the said King of Great Britain in the free and full Possession of His Kingdoms, Countries, Lands and Dominions. The King of Great Britain likewise Promises and Engages for Himself and Successors, Kings of Great Britain, That He will Inviolably Do and Perform the same towards the said most Christian King, His Kingdoms, Countries, Lands and Dominions.

There seems to be but one way left, either to make any amends to these poor desolate People, or to bring to pass their Re-admission; I do not say, that the Princes of Europe will find it their Interest to put it in practice any more than I believe it is really the Int'rest of the King of France, to Ruine so many Thousand Families of his Peaceable Subjects; I mean, the Old Standard Law of Retaliation. But if it might be a Means to re-establish those poor People in Peace and Liberty, the Sacrificing Ten Thousand Families of other Persons, as Innocent as them, seems to be a Justice their present Case calls for.

Lex Talionis seems to me to be the Foundation-Law of Right and Wrong; the Scripture is full of Instances of this Nature: Adoni-bezek, Agag, declare it to be agreeable to the Divine Method of Executive Justice; the reason of Rewards and Punishments, seems to be wholly measured by it; and if exactly administred, it carries so convictive a Force, that no Person who ever fell under the severest part of it, could object against the Execution of it. Adoni-bezek, above-mentioned, made a Confession of the Justice of his Punishment, when his Thumbs and great Toes were cut off, as a Retaliation of his Barbarities. Judg. 1. 7. And Samuels Return upon Agag, That as his Sword had made Women Childless, so should his Mother be Childless among Women; declares both the Reason and the Justice of Gods Decree against him, 1 Sam. xv. 33.

'Tis true, this Retaliation is strictly Personal; and all Retaliation ought to be so, if possible: But in some Cases it differs; and where a Personal Retaliation is not practicable, then People are considered in Collective Bodies, Nations, Families, and States. Thus, in a War, the Subjects of either Party account is very justifiable, to make themselves satisfaction for Injuries received, on any of the Subjects of the contrary Party, tho' the Wrong particularly suffered, is not chargeable on those particular Persons who suffer for it.

By the same Rule, it seems justifiable, if we cast the whole Body of Europe into Two sorts, Popish and Protestant, that while the one part commit Hostilities and Depredations on the other, the injur'd Party should have a Right of Retaliation on any Member of the same Body, of what Nation or Government soever they shall be, where the Power is properly put into their Hands: for Power, in such a case, may pass for a sufficient Right of Directing the said punishment, since nothing but want of Power interrupts its being Personal.

The French King has given a Challenge to all the Protestant Princes of Europe, in his present Usage of the Reformed Churches of France: He has carry'd on, tho' not with much Success, a War for above Eight Years, against the whole United power of Europe; at last he has made a Peace, not at all to his Advantage, nor much for his Honour: And now the War of State is at an end, he seems to be beginning a War of Religion, and that he may lay the Foundation of it safely, he has began it upon his own Subjects.

I cannot imagine why all the Protestant Princes of Europe should not think themselves concern'd in this Invasion of their Religion, since nothing is more certain than that they are all strook at, tho' more remote¦ly: And by all the Rules of Human Policy, prevention ought to extend as far as the Evil is design'd.

If the weakening the Protestant Interest in general, were only the Design; the strengthening that Interest ought to be the care of the other: Besides, the Papists are the Aggressors, as they always have been, and the Injustice of their Cause so great, that they have hardly ever attempted to make any other pretences for all their Barbarities, than the Absolute Will and Pleasure of their Omnipotent Monarch, who will have but one Religion within his Dominions.

I confess, to me it seems very proper, for the Ease of all Parties, That Religion should really divide the whole Body of Europe, and that all the Roman Catholicks, and all the Protestants, if they could but agree it among themselves, should live by themselves: That if the French King will have no Protestants in his Dominion, the Protestants should suffer no Roman Catholicks in theirs; and when all Parties are withdrawn to their own sort, and the Division compleated, let the Roman Catholicks begin a War of Religion as soon as they please.

It is, in my Opinion, the unjustest thing in the World, that since the Spaniards and Italians suffer no Protestants to live amongst them, but the Bloody Inquisition destroys them, and the French have Dragoon'd Three Hundred Thousand of their Protestant Subjects to Mass, and hurry'd Three Hundred Thousand more out of their Country, to seek Comfort from the Charity of Neighbour States. The Duke of Savoy has Exil'd all his Protestant Vaudois: And hardly any Popish Country admit the Protestants among them, some few parts of Germany excepted, yet the Protestant-Governments, at the same time, suffer Three Millions of Papists to live among them, and enjoy their Liberties and Estates unmolested.

Nor is this all, the Protestants of France, Savoy, and Hungary, have been persecuted, under the Assurances of the most solemn Treaties, the most sacred Edicts, and the firmest Peace that could be made; they have never (their Enemies themselves being Judges) been guilty of the Breach of their Faith or Loyalty. Henry III. of France, acknowledged it, when he had recourse to them for Protection against his own mutinous Catholick Subjects. The Duke of Savoy acknowledged it, in his Speech to those Vaudois whom he had Released out of the Citadel of Turin. We never read of any War begun by the Protestants, they were always Defendants: We have not one Instance of a Massacre committed, or a King Assassinated, or of Nobles Undermined, in order to be blown up by them; they have always been Men of Peace, till Self-Defence has oblig'd them to be Men of War. On the contrary, the Roman-Catholicks have been always uneasie to the Governments they have lived under. Our Histories are full of their Treasons. Ireland has twice been Deluged in Blood by their Rebellions and Cruelties. Two Kings of France have been Murthered by their Assassinations, and innumerable Protestants Massacred and Butcher'd in cold Blood, under the pretences of Friendship, and assurance of a Treaty.

The Reigns of all our Kings and Queens in England, since Henry VIII. have been strangely disturb'd by the Plots, the Treasons and Rebellions of the Papists; they have often forfeited their Estates and Liberties to the Publick Justice of the Nation, had they been dealt with by the Rules of strict Retaliation. England Scotland and Ireland have such Reasons for Entire removing them out of their Dominions, as no Nation in the World can have greater; and yet here they live in Peace, under the protection of those very Princes they refuse to swear Allegiance to, and under the shelter of those Laws they refuse to be bound by. 'Tis no Plea in Bar of any Right, that the Plaintiff is a Papist; our Courts of Justice are as open to them, as to any of the Kings most faithful Subjects: Of which more hereafter.

On the contrary, the Protestants of France, tho charg'd with no Disloyalty, nor guilty of no Crimes are Dispossess'd of their Estates, Banish'd their Native Country, Dragoon'd, Shipt to the Gallies, and many of them Hang'd, their Children torn from them by Violence, and buried alive in Monasteries and Nunneries, and all the Cruelties an unbridled Soldiery can inflict, acted upon them, without any manner of Crime alledg'd but their Religion, and this when that very Religion was secur'd to them by the solemnest Leagues and Treaties in the World, Declared in the famous Edict of Nants, Entred, Receiv'd and Registred in all the Parliaments of the Kingdom.

The King of France, in persecuting his Protestant Subjects, acts not only the part of a Tyrant over them, as they are his Subjects, but is guilty of the Breach of the Faith and Honour of a King, oppressing those People who had their Religion tolerated and allow'd to them by his Ancestors, in the most sacred manner possible; and he is also guilty of the greatest Unkindness to those very People who were the Instruments and Agents of the Glory of his Family, and of his Person.

To make good which Reflection, that I may not seem to be guilty of Disrespect to the Majesty of the King of France, 'tis needful to examine a little the Ground on which the Protestant Interest in France stood for the last Century of Years, and the History of the present Royal Family of France, and how they came to the Crown.

In the Year 1571. on the 24th. Day of August, Charles IX. being King of France, the Third War with the Hugonots having been lately ended, and a Peace made with the Protestants, the Cities of Rochel, Montauban, Coignac, and la Charitie, being put into their Hands for Security, and the Chief of the Protestants wholly resting on the Faith and Honour of the King, in full Satisfaction of his sincere Intentions, being come to Court, was acted the Massacre of Paris; at which, in the space of Five Days, above Thirty Thousand Protestants were barbarously Surprized and Butcher'd in Cold Blood.

Upon which follow'd the Fourth and Fifth Civil War; during which, King Charles IX. died; and the Crown fell to Henry III. the last of the House of Valois, and then newly Elected King of Poland. The Beginning of his Reign being entangled with Civil Broils, the Protestant Interest grew very strong; and tho' the League forced the King to make Three several Wars with them, yet they still maintain'd their Liberty and Religion.

At length the Faction of the Guises, known by the Name of the Catholick League, Declar'd themselves so absolutely against the King, and grew so powerful, especially after the Death of the Duke and Cardinal of Guise, whom the King had caused to be kill'd, that they had almost driven him out of the Kingdom. In this Exigence, the Protestants, against whom they had carry'd on Four Persecutions and Wars, and therein destroyed many thousands of their Brethren, undertook his Defence, and joining all their Forces, in order to Restore him, marched with him to the very Gates of Paris; where, while he was preparing for a general Attack of the City, he was barbarously Assassinated by Jacques Clement, a Jacobin Monk, sent out of the City on purpose, being stabb'd in the Belly with a Poynard, of which he died the Day after.

Henry IV. the present King's Grand-father, was then King of Navarre, and a Protestant; and being Lawful Heir to the Crown, as also recommended to the Nobility by the deceased King, at his death, took upon him the Stile and Title of King of France. The League, back'd by the Power of the King of Spain, oppos'd him with all the vigour imaginable; and many of the Catholick Nobility deserted him, on the Account of his being an Heretick.

The Protestants serv'd him with all the Glory and Loyalty that ever was shown, perhaps, in any War in the World; and, as is computed, during the Years War he maintain'd against the League, and the Spanish Power, above an Hundred and Sixty Thousand Protestant Soldiers lost their Lives in his Service. At length, to put an end to the War, and assure himself of the Kingdom, he deserted his Religion, and turn'd Roman-Catholick; by which means he obtain'd a full Possession of the Crown, ruin'd the League, the Chief Heads of it making their Peace with him, one by one; and at last concluded the War with the Spaniard, at the Peace of Vervin.

The Protestants, however, never withdrew their Loyalty nor their Services from him: The famous Mareschal de Biron, the Dukes de Bouillon, du Plessis, and de la Tremouille, continuing to do him the most faithful and important Services against the Spaniards to the last.

Having settled himself in the Kingdom, and made peace with all the World, the Protestants, who had serv'd him so faithfully, and who expected no other Reward than the Security of their Religion and Estates, obtain'd from him the famous Edict of Nantes; in which is particularly stated and stipulated, the Terms of their Liberty, in what places they should erect their Temples, how they should hold their Synods and Assemblies: Money was allotted out of the publick Revenues, to maintain their Ministers; Cities were allotted to them, for their Security, the Garrisons whereof were to be paid by the King: And the Edict was made perpetual and Irrevocable, by being Entred and Registred in the Parliaments, and Courts of Justice all over the Kingdom.

But all the Services of the Protestants to this Great King, by which he was brought to the Crown of France, nor the solemn Engagement of this Edict, could not preserve them, but that in the Ministry of Cardinal Richlieu, under the very next Reign, they were again attack'd, and driven to the necessity of taking Arms in their own Defence: Which Cardinal, after three times making Peace, and breaking it again at his pleasure, compleated the Conquest of them, in the Taking of Rochelle; the Protestants being miserably deserted by the English, and Thirteen Thousand People Starv'd to Death in the Town.

Since this, in the Infancy of the present King, while the Contests between the Prince of Conde and the Queen-Mother were so hot as to break out into a War, the Protestants, as Subjects only, were not a little instrumental to the maintaining him in that very Power, which now he makes use of to their Destruction.

I think this History fully makes good the Assertion that the present Usage of the Protestants is both Perfidious and Ungrateful. Perfidious, as being acted while under the Protection of a Sacred League and Solemn Treaty, and Ungrateful as it is exercised on those very People, who with their Lives and Estates, raised the present Fortune of the House of Bourbon, to the Greatness it now enjoys.

I have been the more particular in this Account, because from hence it will appear that the Protestants of France stand on a different foot from other Subjects of that Monarchy, and that his right of Dealing with them, differs from his Power over the rest of his Subjects, for they are his Subjects by express Stipulations and Agreements, whose Obedience to him has been always allow'd to be Conditional; they have made Peace and War with their Kings, not as Rebels, but as Persons having a Lawful Right to Plead and to Defend, their Kings have given them Cautionary Towns for the Performance of the Treaties made with them; a Thing which in its own Nature implies that they might hold those Towns against him, if he did not perform the Postulata of those Treaties, without the Scandal of Rebellion.

So that their Right to the Liberty of their Religion, had an Authority sufficient to justifie them in taking Arms; nor does any of the French Histories, that ever I saw, tho' wrote with the greatest Partiality, ever call it a Rebellion, but a War with the Hugonots, and the Conclusions were always call'd, A Peace with the Hugonots, as is Evident thro' D' Avila's whole History of the Civil Wars of France.

The History of the Protestants of the Ʋpper Hungary and of Bohemia, might in many respects bear a parallel with this, the Persecutions and ill-Usage of them, having been after the solemnest Agreement and Treaties with them that could be made; insomuch as that poor Unhappy People being so absolutely separated from any Relief of their Brethren of Germany, have been forced to fly for Protection to the Enemies of Christianity, the Turk, with whom however they have this Satisfaction, that whatever Bargain they make for their Religion, they are sure they will keep it. And I remember very well a Banished Hungarian Minister told me, Discoursing of this very Case, he was sorry to say it, That the Turks, tho' they made them pay Dear for it, were Juster and Truer to their Leagues and Treaties than the Imperialists, who call'd themselves Christians.

It may possibly be objected here, That while we Exclaim against the French and Germans for their Violence to their Subjects, if we should do the same thing to the Papists, it would be Practising what we Condemn and doing Evil that Good may come.

The Answer to this is included in what goes before, viz. taking the whole Roman Catholick and Protestant Party in Europe asunder, and considering them as two Collective Bodies divided in Interest and Religion, it seems to me to be just that a Retaliation of the Injuries done upon the Members of one Party in one place, may be made upon the Members of the same Party in another place, by the same Rule that Depredations of the Subjects of one Prince in War, may be paid by Reprizal upon sny of the Subjects of the same Prince.

But this may be more fully answer'd thus, That if the Popish Subjects of some Protestant Governments have so behaved themselves to their Governors, as to make their Extirpation just, that Justice however suspended in Mercy to them hitherto, will absolutely justifie removing them from those Governments, and by that means Lex Talionis be Executed by the Hands of Publick Justice, and one Banishment be at the same time both a Punishment of their several Crimes, and a Retaliation of the Oppressions of their Party. This is a Method God Almighty often takes himself, while he suffers a Punishment for a publick Crime of less Guilt to be the Executor of his Vengeance for some Crime of a higher Nature not known.

To go no farther than Ireland for an Instance of this, the present Inhabitants, I mean the Popish Irish by a Bloody Massacre of Two Hundred Thousand Protestants in 1641. by little less intended, and as much as they were able, executed this late War, have deserved no doubt to have been used at the Discretion of the English; and Oliver Cromwell was more than once consulting to Transplant the whole Nation from that Island. If he had done it, or if it had now been done, I am of the Opinion, no Nation in the World wou'd have Tax'd us with Injustice, and I do verily think Oliver Acted with more Generosity than Discretion in omitting it; for this is certain, that if he had done it, this last War and the Expence of so much Treasure as it cost this Nation, and the Ruine of so many Thousand Protestant Families, who were driven from thence by King James, all the Destruction at London-Derry, the Sickness at Dundalk, and the Blood of 150000 people, who at least one way or other, on both sides, perish'd in it, had been prevented.

It may be enquired whithere Oliver design'd to Transplant them, I could answer directly to that also; but 'tis sufficient to my purpose to say, had he clear'd the Island of them, it had been no matter at all to us whither they had gone, and the King of France has set a Rule for such as Banish their Subjects to let them go where they please, and then they certainly separate; whereas had he sent the Protestants to any particular place, they wou'd have been so many and so United, they might possibly have come back again with Swords in their Hands, and ha' bidden fair for another Hugonot War,

I have also seen among the Letters of State written by Mr. Milton, who was his Secretary for the Foreign Dispatches, a Letter written to the States of Holland, wherein by way of Argument to prevail for some Ease to the Protestants of Piedmont, he proposes a Confederacy with the Dutch, and all their Reform'd Friends, to reduce the Duke of Savoy to a Necessity of giving better Conditions to the Vaudois; and seems to Threaten to Expel all the Roman Catholicks in Engiand, Scotland and Ireland, out of his Dominions. I remember upon Discoursing of this passage in some Company one asked, What if he had? and another by way of Repartee, made Answer, Then there wou'd have been none left. I repeat it not for any great Wit in the Answer but to Introduce the Question,

What if he had?

1. If he had, possibly we had not been troubled with any Popish Plot in 1678. nor none of the Bloody Consequences of it; we had had no Sham-Plot upon that, no Russel, Sidney, nor Armstrong Murthered; no Blood lost in an Invasion by the Duke of Monmouth, nor Cruel Executions in the West; we had had no Popish Successor, no Standing Army, no Bishops sent to the Tower, no Invasion of Charters nor Priviledge of Universities; no Ecclesiastical Commission, &c.

2. We had had no Nuncio from Rome, to take his Progress over the Kingdom, no Fire-Works for a Sham-Prince of Wales, nor no Mass Sung in Windsor Chappel, no Seminaries or Priests, nor Nunneries of Whores, at Chelsea, Lincoln-Inn Fields, or Hammersmith.

3. In short, we had had no War of Nine Years to restore a Popish King, the Nation had not spent 60 Millions Sterling, nor lost 200000 of the Stoutest of her Inhabitants to Maintain her Liberty; King William had been King in Right of his Wife, and a Peaceable Admission had been given him.

In all probability this had been the Consequence, if Oliver Cromwell had sent them all out of the Kingdom. I beshrew his Heart he did not.

I do not pretend to lead my Reader to any Political Reasons why this shou'd be done now; our Governours are best Judges of the publick Interest. But thus far, I think, may be assumed without danger of Religion.

If the Nation shou'd think fit in Compassion to the Miseries of our poor Distressed Brethren of France to Retaliate their Usage upon the Roman Catholicks of England and Ireland, the following Consequences would in all probability ensue, which whether it wou'd be just in the whole, or Beneficial to England and Ireland in particular, I leave to the Judgment of Impartial Readers to Consider.

1. It might be a means, by the Intercession of Parties, to procure some reasonable Conditions for the poor Protestants of France, as the Stopping the Mareschal Boufflers at the Surrender of Namure procur'd Justice to the Imprisoned Garrisons of Deinse and Dixmude. This is a Practice too well known in the War to need any Contention, where the putting a Prisoner of War to Death, or any other Breach of Articles has been requited buy putting some other Prisoner of War to Death on the contrary Side; and tho' the latter be an innocent Person, Lex Talionis is the Word, the Justice of it is not disputed.

2. It wou'd put these Kingdoms in a Condition to Entertain and Relieve that great Multitude of Distressed Christians, with the very Substance of their Adversaries, and the King of France might, if he pleas'd, make the Roman Catholicks Amends, by giving them the Estates of the Hugonots, or what other Way he thought fit.

This is most certain, that the Roman Catholicks of England, wou'd not have half the Reason to Complain of hard Usage that the Protestants of France have, they have no Leagues or Capitulations to show for their Permission; the Laws of the Kingdom are expresly against them, and they have in all Reigns for 150 Years past, been the Disturbers of the Peace of it; they refuse now to Swear Allegiance to the Government, and if they do not Disturb it, it is Owing to their want of Power, not their want of Will.

But if they had all those Defences to make, which have been hinted, on behalf of the Protestants of France, they wou'd have no body to thank for such Usage, but their own Friends. And the Pope, if he ow'd them so much Care, might use his Interest with the King of France, to let the Protestants enjoy their Liberty, in order to save them from the same Fate.

Some, indeed, object against the receiving such vast Numbers of Foreigners among us, as Prejudicial to the Interest of Trade, and to our own Manufacturers and Inhabitants, by Eating the Bread out of our Months, and Starving our own Poor.

This is an Argument would require a little Volume to Answer; but in General, I presume to Affirm, That no Number of Foreigners can be Prejudicial to England, let it be never so great. Number of Inhabitants, is the Wealth and Strength of a Kingdom; and if we had a Million of People in England, more than we have, let them be of what Nation they would, it would be far from being a Damage to us.

'Tis true, if these Million of People were all Artisans, Manufacturers, it would be some detriment to our Poor who are employ'd in those particular Manufactures: But allow one third to be Artisans, one third Labourers, Husbandmen or Sailors, and one third Merchants, Shop-keepers or Gentlemen; and if the greatest Number that can be supposed came to settle in England, it could be no Injury, but a vast Advantage to the Kingdom in general: And it will appear by this One particular, well examin'd.

An Addition of a Million of People, suppose that were the Number, would devour a proportion'd quantity of Corn and Flesh for Food and Drink, and a proportioned quantity of Manufactures for Cloth and Housholdstuff; the one employs more Land, and the other more People? Now 'tis apparent, we have in England more Land lies unimprov'd, common, and waste, than would feed a vast many People more than we have; and we have a Staple of Wooll, never to be exhausted. In Manufactures, the more Lands we improve, the greater the Rents will be, and the greater the general Stock of the Nation will be; and the more Manufactures are made, the better the Poor are employ'd, and the Richer the Manufacturer is made.

Many other Arguments might be used, to prove, That the coming Over of Foreigners can be no general prejudice to the Nation, as to Trade. But that is not the main thing here. If the Roman Catholick Princes pursue their Protestant Subjects with such Cruelty, and drive them into Banishment and Exile, to seek Relief in Foreign Countries the Case seems to speak for it self, the Protestants can have no readier way, either to prevent the Miserics of those poor persecuted People, or to relieve them in their Exile, than by dealing with the Papists in their Dominions in the same manner, and Inviting the said persecuted French to come and live in the Estates and in the Places of their Adversaries. This is Lex Talionis: And this is a way that would soon tire the Papists out. For I think I may be allowed to suppose there are much the greater number of Papists among the Protestants, than there are of Protestants among the Papists; and the Exile of the Parties would also dister, as to Place. For, generally speaking, the Protestant Countries are the best for Strangers to live in, the Protestant People are the Trading People of the World; therefore the Exile of the Protestants of France and Hungary would be less to their disadvantage, than the Papists of England, Ireland and Holland, who must apply themselves to Countries where there are few Manufactures, small Trade, and but very indifferent Means for a Stranger to Live. So that the Popish Exiles would be in much the worse Circumstances: And there is no question, but whenever the Protestant Princes of Europe shall find it needful to use this Remedy, the Roman-Catholick Powers will find it for their Interest to make some Cartel, or Condition, upon which all their Subjects, tho' they are Protestants, may enjoy some sort of Liberty in their own Native Countries; and so Persecution, as well as War, might end in an an Universal Happy Peace to Europe, both in Matters of Religion, as well as Civil Affairs, which has so often been attempted by other Methods, to so little purpose.

A LETTER to Mr. HOW, By Way of REPLY TO HIS CONSIDERATIONS OF THE PREFACE TO AN Enquiry into the Occasional Conformity of DISSENTERS.

SIR,

AFTER such an Account as you have given of your self in the Five first Pages of your Book, with the Aversion you have to any thing which shou'd interrupt you in your more Recluse Studies; I presume no Man cou'd imagin you would break thorough your own Measures to attack a poor Prefacer, as you call me, and wholly quitting the Argument, amuse the World, and content your self to Lash the Author with the Severity of your Wit.

Herein, Sir, I must own, that not only your Opponent, but all the Town seem Disappointed exceedingly, that Mr. How, who thinks the Subject not worth Answering, shou'd trouble his Head, or spend his Time about the Impertinence of a sorry Prefacer.

When I Address'd the Preface to you, I thought I had so carefully Revis'd both it and the Book, that, as I mention'd to you, I cou'd no-where be Tax'd with Exceeding the Rules of Charity and Good Manners.

And tho' I wou'd always make them both my Rule, yet I thought my self oblig'd to it more now than ordinarily, by how much the person to whom, and the persons of whom I wrote, were equally known and very much valued by me; and I did not question but I shou'd either not be Reply'd to at all, or it wou'd be done with the Charity of a Christian, the Civility of a Gentleman, and the Force and Vigour of a Scholar.

But since it seems good to you, Sir, to descend so far below your self as to quit the Dispute offer'd, and fall upon me personally, and to mix Raillery and Reproach with your Argument, which, I am sure, you know too well to think betters the Cause: You must blame your self, Sir, for Obliging me in my own Defence to be a little freer with you than otherwise I shou'd have thought had become me.

Nor, Sir, shou'd I have engag'd with you, even in my own Defence, knowing I am to struggle with so unequal a Match both as to your Learning and Reputation, had I not seen your Book differ so much from your constant Character; and pardon me, Sir, for the Word, in many Places from the Truth.

And since I am oblig'd thus publickly to Animadvert upon my Superiors, for such I own you to be both in Learning and Office,

I shall ask your Leave to lay down several Mistakes upon which I must be allow'd to suppose you have gone in the Censures which you have made; which Suppositions I draw from the whole Tenour of your Writing.

I presume, Sir, that you are mistaken in these Four Points, in the Person, Temper, Profession, and Intention of the Author,

Which Mistakes, I shall venture to suppose, are the Reasons which moved you to treat your Adversary with so much indecent Contempt.

As to my Person and Temper: 'Tis true, Sir, I have chosen to conceal my Name; and tho' bating Humane Frailty, Sins and Misfortunes, I know no Reason why the Argument should be asham'd of the Author, or the Author of the Argument: Yet when I consider'd how constant a practice it is in the World to Answer an Argument with Recriminations instead of Reasonings, I thought it best to continue retir'd, that the Case I had enter'd upon might not come clogg'd with the dead Weight of the Meanness and Imperfections of the Author.

I need not go back to the Instance of our Saviour, whose Arguments were Confronted with the Contempt of that Question, Is not this the Carpenter's Son? For I find that even Mr. How himself wou'd have search'd my Character to have compleated his Remarks with Personal Reflections.

And yet I cannot imagine what Relation my Name has to the Argument; it cou'd be only useful to furnish you with something in my Character to Reproach me with; which, God knows you might have found enough of.

But what wou'd all this be to the Point in hand? The Occasional Conformity of Dissenters is not Condemn'd or Defended by the Names of Authors on either side, but by Truth, Scripture, and Reason.

Thou was't altogether born in Sin, says the High-Priest, and the Elders of the Sanhedrim to the Poor Man whom Christ had healed; and doest thou Teach us? And yet the poor Man was in the Right; and if I am so, tho' I was the meanest and most scandalous of Scriblers, is my Argument the worse?

But, Sir, to Answer all those Particulars, and let you know that I am not altogether so shy of my Name as you imagine, I shall give you a Genuine honest Account of my self, and then my Name is at your Service.

First, Sir, I am to tell you, that I am, and acknowledge my self to be, possess'd with a strong Aversion to Doubling and Shifting in Points of Religion; and do think that the Case in hand is be allow'd no less: And therefore wrote the Enquiry with Two very honest Designs, viz, To see if by Strength of Argument I cou'd receive Satisfaction; and to Explode, and, as far as in me lies, to Oppose the Practice.

Secondly, Had your Book given me, or any Body else that I can meet with, whose Judgment is to be valued, the Satisfaction I desir'd; I assure you, I am so little fond of an Opinion, because it is mine, that I shou'd not have been asham'd to have own'd my self mistaken; and possibly have shown as much Humility in Acknowledging it, as you think I have Pride in Opposing.

As to Personal Miscarriages and Misfortunes, of which no Man has more, and which, perhaps may weaken the Reputation of the Author, but I am sure ought not of my Argument: To them I shall only say, God in his Merciful Providence has heal'd the Last, and, I hope, has Pardon'd the First: And if so, I am upon even Terms in point of Reasoning.

By this you may see I am sensible of the Beam in my own Eye, and have for some years taken up the part of a Penitent on that very account; but did never understand that thereby I was barr'd from Enquiring into what I judg'd Scandalous to the Profession of a Party in General, of whom, though unworthy, I was a Member.

Nor, Sir, am I any-where guilty of Judging another, where the Case is not so plain, as that it really seems to speak it self: For I must remember also, that we are no more to call Good, Evil, or Evil, Good, than we are to Judge one another.

Thus, Sir, I am gone over my own Character; and shall only demand this from you of Right, That, so far as Truth and Honesty is on my side, it may not, nor ought not to be despis'd for being usher'd in by an unworthy instrument.

And 'tis strange, Sir, that you who Animadvert upon me for Judging, should so severely judge me, and that wrongfully too, as shall appear in the Particulars of this short Discourse.

I cou'd not be satisfi'd to say less to this point on these Accounts, because I must put in a Caveat against Personal Reflections as unfair in the Dispute: He that pleases first to Confute the Argument, is welcome to show his Wit in Satyrizing upon the Follies and Afflictions of the Author: And there I leave it, and proceed to what I conceive is your third Mistake about me.

Viz. My profession. And this you seem to make plain, while from the 13th, to the 24th page, you treat me as an Independent, and spend your time to Reply to the p•rticular Te•en•s in dispute between You and Them: which, with Submission, I conceive to be nothing at all to the purpose.

After this, P 30, 31, 32, I am talk'd with as a Fifth-Monarchy-man, and Leveller; what of these Principles any where appears in the Enquiry, I confess I am at a loss to know; nor, Sir, have you been so kind to lay it down.

Indeed I own my self somewhat surpriz'd to see you run on in Answering the scrupulous Independent about Kneeling at the Sacrament, and the Extravagant Fifth-Monarchy-man, about seizing the Properties of Mankind for the Use of the Saints; and such things as these, by way of Reply to an Enquiry about Occasional promiscuous Conformity: and am still at a Loss to find an Antecedent to this Relative.

I assure you I am no Independent, nor Fifth-Monarchy-man, nor Leveller. You have shown your Learning, Sir, and Confuted an Error inconsistent with Civil Society: Very well; but this had been better done by it self; it had no more relation to the Case in hand, than a Lecture against the Alchoran; and you may as well conjecture me to be a Mahometan, as a Fifth-Monarchy-man, from any thing in the Book that looks like either. But, Sir, since I am led by you to give an account of my profession, which, I hope I shall always be ready to do; I shall do it in few words: That I am of the same Class, and in the same Denomination of a Dissenter with your self, your Office excepted, and am willing to be guided by, and to practice the Great Rule of Christian Charity in all the proper and legal Extents of it: Indeed I have more need to practice it than you, because I stand more in need of it from others, with respect to the Causes already nam'd. And however, by wresting Words, and mistaking my Intentions, you are pleased to see nothing of it; I am not yet convinc'd that I have broken that Great Christian Rule of Charity, in any thing I have written.

I come now to the Fourth Thing in which you are mistaken, which is in my Intentions; in which you rashly, and, I assure you, wrongfully judge me, however cautious you wou'd have me be of judging others: But, Sir, Humanum est Errare; you are no more Infallible, I see, than I, and are fallen into the same rash Error you Reprove me for with so much Severity; by judging, that the principal Design of this Book was to reflect upon a Worthy Gentlemen, who is nam'd in the Preface: And in one place you are pleased to join me with the Party who Oppos'd him, and bring me in making my Court to them.

All these, Sir, I shall make appear to be not only Mistakes, but groundless Mistakes; such as nothing but the same Thoughts which put you out of Temper, cou'd lead you into: And I can solemnly Appeal in the Form you have set down, that you have wrong'd me in your Censure.

First, Sir, the Enquiry was publish'd Three years ago, and therefore cou'd not be design'd as a Personal Invective against the Gentleman you speak of: All that can be said, is, That the Cause being again given, the Re-printing it was design'd as a Reproof to the Practice: and so much I own. As for Persons I am indifferent; if the Coat fits any Body, let them wear it.

Secondly, Sir, I declare my self, if of any Party, I am, and ever was for the English Liberty, and for the putting such Men into Magistracy, who, in Concurrence with the King, our Supream Magistrate, wou'd protect and preserve that Liberty. And, as a Person every way qualified to execute a Trust of so much Honour, whether profitable or not, I won't examine, I gave my Vote for Sir Thomas Abney, and shou'd ha' done so, If I had the power of Ten Thousand Voices; and no Man has more Respect for, or Opinion of his Honesty and Ability than my self: Nor have I, God be thank'd, any Occasion to say this to flatter him; for I neither want his Favour, nor fear his Anger.

Herein therefore I presume to say you have been entirely mistaken; and these Errors have led you to waste your Time, and the Reader's too, in making needless Remarks, and Answering those People who never Oppos'd you.

I come now to that part of your Book which respects the Case in hand; which, as it is the least part, and indeed seems to agree with the Title, that it is only a Consideration of the Preface; for really with submission, there is very little Answer to the Fact: So it requires not that I shou'd Reply to the Argument; for I see none, but that drawing back the Curtain which you have spread over the Subject, I shou'd set it in a True Light, that all Men may judge by their own Consciences, and the Scripture-Rule, and take care they be not distinguish'd out of their Reason and Religion by the Cunning and Artifice of Words.

Please therefore, Sir, to admit me to run over your Book with as modest Animadversions as my just Defence will allow; and I am content to stand Corrected, where I fail in point of Decency.

First, You quarrel with me for a Breach of Kindness and Equity, in hiding my own Name and Revealing yours. Designing my self to fight in the Dark, and expecting you to do it in open Light. And you give us Five whole Pages, including the Quotation of your self in your Preface to the Inhabitants of Torrington, to show your indifferency in Controverted Disputes, and consequently your Unwillingness to engage in this.

Truly, Sir, as to the First, I thought a publick Appeal to you, who are a publick Person, had been no Sin apainst Kindness or Equity; if it be, I ask your Pardon.

As to my Concealing my Name, I have given you my Reasons already; and as to my Exposing yours, had you thought fit to have Replied to the Book which lay Three years unanswer'd, without being address'd to any person in particular, you had been at Liberty to have remain'd as unexpos'd as the Author.

But the Enquiry being unanswer'd, gave some people more prejudice against the Integrity of Dissenters in general, than I cou'd wish to have found; upon which I thought it necessary to have the Matter discuss'd, if possible; and knew no Man more concerned to do it, nor more capable than your self.

Nor is your Answering me such a Disappointment as you are pleas'd to mention; but that you shou'd attempt it, and do it to no more purpose, is, I confess, more Disappointment to me than any thing I cou'd ha' met with.

Whether, Sir, the Indifferency you are so pleas'd with in your Temper, be Congruous to your Profession as a Gospel Minister, I shall not examine: Whether you that are Pastor of a Dissenting Church, and Administer the Ordinances of Christ to a Select People, in a way Dissenting from the Establish'd Church, and thereby maintain a Schism in the said Establish'd Church, ought to be so indifferent as to boast that you never perswaded any Man to Conform, or not to Conform, I leave it to your self to consider; I am sure, if I was arriv'd to that Coldness in the matter my self, I wou'd Conform immediately; for I think what I affirm'd in the Enquiry Page remains a Truth unanswer'd by you: That Schism from a True Establish'd Church of Christ, is a great Sin; and if I can Conform, I ought to Conform.

From this Declaration of your own indifferency to meddle in Matters of Controversie, with your Reasons for it, which I suppose you wou'd have taken as Introductory to what follows, you are pleas'd to proceed very angrily to examine why I engage you in this Quarrel: I have given you an Account of it already with all the Honesty and Plainness I can, and I thought a Person in your Place wou'd never have Resented the being put upon the Defence of his Profession, or being Civilly ask'd a Question about it; and I cannot but observe how carefully you avoid being engag'd in the present Dispute.

I ought to have been well assur'd, you say, (1.) That you did advise one way or the other; Or, (2.) That you ought to have done so.

Really, Sir, I think it immaterial whether you were, or on; or, whether you ought, or no; for I never Charg'd you with the first, or affirm'd the last; but only ask'd this fair Question:

Whether it was allow'd by Dissenters in general, or by your Congregation in particular? To which Question you give no Answer.

But I shall answer you honestly and directly: I am assur'd, as far as Rationally I can be, by consequences of things, that you have not advised one way or other? Nor do I affirm you ought to have done so, unless the Person concern'd, applied to you for Advice in Point of Conscience on the Case; if he did, I do not see how you could decline it. So that to me, it seems, you either were oblig'd, or not oblig'd, as the Application of the Person concern'd might alter the Case: I do not say you were oblig'd officiously to tender your Advice in the Case: If I am wrong here, I shall acknowledge my Error when I am better inform'd.

The next thing will come close to the Point, Whether it be a Fault, an unlawful Action, or no, for a Dissenter, as such, to hold Occasional Communion with the Establish'd Church, and, at the same time continue in, or return to his Relative conjunction with a Separate Church?

That it is not a sinful Act simply to have Communion with the Establish'd Church, I willingly agree. But since on this Point depends the Weight of our present Dispute, I must conclude, That I think 'tis a sinful Act circumstantially and conjunctively.

And because I wou'd be rightly understood, I shall endeavour to be Explicit, tho' I run the hazard of being counted impertinent.

I have laid down the Case, I thought, fairly, and of which you are pleas'd to take no Notice, in the Enquiry, Page 12.

He who Dissents from an Establish'd Church from any other Reasons but such as these; That he really believes the said Establish'd Church is not of the purest Institution, but that be can serve God in a Form more agreeable to his Will; and that accordingly 'tis his Duty to do it so, and no otherwise: Such a one ought to Conform, because to make a Wilful Schism in the Church, is doubtless a great Sin, and if I can avoid it, I ought to avoid it.

If then I am guided by this real Principle of Conscience to Dissent, how can I Conform without Sinning against that Conscience, by which only my Dissenting is made Lawful?

And thus, Sir, I am brought to my Argument again: Of which I shall give you this short Abstract; and you or any body else, are welcome to be angry with me, if you will be pleas'd first to Answer it:

That he who Dissents from the Establish'd Church, except from a true Principle of Conscience, is guilty of a great Sin.

That he who Conforms to the Establish'd Church against his Conscience, is guilty of a great Sin.

That he who both Dissents and Conforms at the same time and in the same Point of Religion, must be guilty of one of these great Sins.

That he who has committed either of these Sins, ought not to be receiv'd again on either side on any other Terms than as a Penitent.

I do not examine, as I hinted then, whether the Gentleman you would embroil me with, be thus guilty; be that to himself.

But I must now come to your Distinctions: Indeed Sir, I believe as you say, that taking which side you will, you may puzzle the most of plain people, who are but of ordinary Understandings in the Controversy about Ceremonies: And give me leave to add, That such is the Subtilty and Nicety of Sophistical Reasonings, that Men may almost Distinguish themselves into, and out of any Opinion; and some People, who are Masters of the Art of Nice Arguing, too often lose both Themselves and their Religion in the Labyrinchs of Words: School Divinity and Practical Christianity are Two things, and seldom understood by the same Heads.

But, Sir, with the greatest Respect, and some Concern, let me tell you, I did not think to find all the Difference between the Dissenters and the Church of England dwindl'd into Three additional Appendices, in which we have some Difference, and so: and this from Mr. How, who is Pastor of a Separate Church.

If we differ from them in Trifles, or have but a Trifling Difference, I think we can never justify making so large a Chasm in the Church; we have much to answer for, without question, in the too fatal Divisions of this Nation, if it has all been occasion'd by a few small Appendices.

If our Differences are not Matters of Conscience I have no more to say; if they are, 'tis a Mystery yet hidden from the Common Understandings, how they can be first insisted on from a Principle of Conscience, and then wav'd without acting against that Conscience, which only could justify the first insisting on them: If you can Distinguish us into this, I am mistaken.

I allow your Distinctions of Sins, which are Consistent or Inconsistent with the Christian State to be Orthodox and Right.

I allow your Distinctions of Negative and Affirmative Precepts, and, according to my weak Talent, agree with you in them.

But the Consequence you draw, with submission, does not reach the Case; which is, That scrupulous Persons ought to be fully perswaded in their own Minds; and Fellow-Christians were not to Judge, but to Receive them.

This you have answer'd your self, P. 13. to be meant in dubious and small Matters: And if we must stick here, we are next to Examine, Whether the Difference between Us and the Establish'd Church be only in dubious and small Matters; if it be, I know not how we shall Ward off the Below of being guilty of Schism; the Sin of which I suppose you will not dispute. Wherefore to descend to some Particulars—If I know why we Dissent from the Establish'd Church, 'tis principally on such Accounts as these.

- 1. On account of the Episcopal
Clarkson's No Scripture-Evidence for Diocesan Bishops.

Hierarchy, Prelatical Ordination and Super-intendency.

- 2. On account of their imposing things own'd to be indifferent, as Terms of Communion.

- 3. On account of their imposing things own'd to be otherwise indifferent, as made necessary by the Command of the Civil Magistrate.

As to Partial Conformity, Dissent in some things, and Conforming in others, which you mention Page. [...]. it does not seem to concern this Case. No Man among the Dissenters, I believe, pretended to Dissent in every thing; but we are speaking of Conforming in those very Points in which we Dissent, and that no less than the Article of Communion.

If these are your small things, I am content to stand by it, and ready to prove, as I said in the Enquiry:

That whoever Separates from this Church, and at the same time Conforms to it; by Conforming, denies his Dissent being Lawful; or, by his Dissenting, Damns his Conforming as Sinful.

All this, Sir, you have not thought fit to touch upon, for Reasons which you know best; and I really wonder you shou'd take so much pains to Cavil at me and a simple Preface, which really was not worth your while; and when you have led your self into the Argument, take no notice of the thing it self, as it is Objected, but Distinguish so nicely about the smaller matters, and omit the greater.

If we differ from the Establish'd Church in small things only, we are to blame to make the Breach so wide. Was it for small and dubious Things only that we suffer'd Process of the Law, Excommunications, Seizures of our Estates, and Imprisonment of our Persons? And since you are pleas'd to bring in that Honourable Gentleman, speaking in the first Person to the Point, as an Inference drawn from your Distinctions, and your self telling us what he may perhaps do;

Give me leave to go through those Supposititions Cases with you, Sir. As to the particular Person, you concern him in it, not I.

1. You say, He may have Arguments so specious, that supposing he Err, may Impose upon the Judgment, and thereby Direct the Practice of a very Intelligent, Discerning; and Ʋpright-hearted Man, so as to make him think that which is perhaps an Error, his present Duty, and so not offer Violence to his Conscience.

I Answer: Admit he does so; yet while you at the same time allow he Errs, that is, Sins; why ought not he to be admonished to Repent of that Sin, before he be receiv'd again into Communion? This is what I mean by being receiv'd as a Penitent: You grant (P. 9.) a Man is to do the part of a Penitent for a Fault; and this Error is a Fault, though it were an Error of Ignorance.

2. Then you say, P. 18. As judging such a Church true as to Essentials, he may think (Occasion inviting) he hath greater Reason, though it be Defective in Accidents, to Communicate with it sometimes, than to shun its Communion always.

Pardon me, Sir, I must say this seems a Sophism in Religion; for allow he may think so, you must allow he ought not to think so. And why Occasion inviting? Why not Occasion compelling? 'Tis manifest, For•… cou'd not compel, why shou'd Occasion invite?

I confine not my Argument to this Gentleman; but of Others I can prove, That Force cou'd not compel them, but Occasion, that is, Honour and Preferment cou'd invite them. Now if you please to Reconcile this for me, I shall be gotten over one Point; Whether a Man can justify suffering to the Ruin, perhaps of his Family, rather than comply with that which he may do without imposing upon his Conscience, and which, Occasion inviting, he may judge lawful?

You have another Distinction which, I confess, hardly think to be Rational, that is, Unprofitable Preferment, Page. First, I neither understand that the Instance you are upon is Unprofitable, nor believe it; nor that the Epithite can be proper to the word, for that which is unprofitable, cannot be a Preferment.

I must also observe here, Sir, that the Conformity exacted in the late Reigns, was not so large as what these Gentlemen are pleas'd to comply with voluntarily. Now as to the Ceremonies you insist on, and which indeed I do not, as the way of Administration Kneeling, &c. it was allow'd to be so indifferent than, that many receiv'd in the Church Standing. But when these Unprofitable Preferments, as you please to call them, invite, they seek of themselves what before they cou'd not be forc'd to.

3. You ask us another Question: What if some have thought that alone a sufficient Reason for their Occasional Communion with a Church, with whom they have not a constant Communion, That they may testify to the World they Decline it not as no Church, but so far practically own it as the Reason of the thing requires; may not be supposed to do this, as thinking it a good Reason, whether it be so or no, without going against Conscience herein?

Truly, Sir, I must suppose these It may be's, and Why may not's, are put in to make out what you said Page. that you cou'd puzzle a mean Understanding both ways; and, I thank God, you are driven to the Necessity of these Arts. But to let you see these Suppositions may be replied to;

1. Sir, the Church of England however, must own Her self very much oblig'd to such Gentlemen who will Conform only to Vindicate her Reputation.

2. They may be supposed to do thus, but they cannot be supposed to do so without a manifest gross ignorance, and taking that for a good Reason which is none at all: For if, Sir, you will admit that a Man is in the Right as to himself, while he thinks he is so, then you open the way to the fatal Latitude of all manner of Error; for no Man is guilty of an Error, as an Error, but as his Judgment may be perverted to believe himself right, when he is wrong.

Page 19. you are pleas'd to Object for me: Since, Sir, you think it not unlawful to Communicate with such a Church sometimes, why shou'd you not (for Common Order sake) do it always?

Sir, if you please to give me leave to ask Questions for my self, I wou'd state it something more fairly to the Case in hand, thus: Since, Sir, you think it not Unlawful to Communicate with such a Church sometimes, why shou'd you not, to avoid the just Imputation of Schism, which is a great Sin, have done it always? And why never do it, but when upon an Occasion of Preferment inviting, you find it necessary to protect you from the penalty of the Law?

I shou'd ha' been very glad you had stated this Question fully, and suppose what Answer you please; for upon my word, I can suppose none, unless I wou'd bring him in, owning the Crime, and repenting of it; which I shou'd be glad to hear of.

What you say, I shall stare at, Page 20. I willingly admit, that what is simply best, may not be best for Practice in present Circumstances. And I must likewise remind you, Sir, That what may be simply Lawful, may be unlawful Circumstantially: And so I affirm this to be and dare undertake to prove it so, without coming in the Number of Solomon's Fools, with whom you have rank'd me for proposing hastily beyond Seven Men that can render a Reason.

Here, Sir, viz. at your 20th Page, I must leave you to combat with the Independents and let them answer for themselves; I am not at all concern'd in the Quarrel.

And you spend three or four Pages as an Advocate for the Church of England, concerning Modes and Gestures; in which, I am sure, I am far from placing the least Weight, where serious Christianity is to be found; and God forbid either you or I, Sir, shou'd be found making a Rent in the Christian Union of this Church and Nation, if their Kneeling at the Sacrament, or the Use of a Liturgy, were all the Dispute; 'tis you have led me into saying any thing of the Difference between the National Church and the Dissenters.

I know that the 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 of the Primitive Church included the Forms of their Administrations and Publick Services; and need not recite my Authorities for it to you, who know it better than I; nor that they are found in the Time of Tertullian, and long before him. But I know also, and the contrary has never been prov'd, that those Forms were not impos'd as Terms of Communion, and under the Penalty of Laws, at least till the Divisions of the Church between the Arrians and the Orthodox, when Error and Persecution got into the Church, and the Evil Spirit Reign'd, to the Destruction of both sides.

And now, Sir, I find you no more talking to me till you come to Page 25, where you are pleased to Satyrize upon my Title and Preface.

Really, Sir, I believe my self capable to Defend my Book against all that the Power of Cavil and Sophistry can suggest; and therefore I am not sollcitous for my Preface and Title-Page.

But that I may satisfy your Request: and telling you first, that you oblige me to it: I shall be plain.

You desire me to examine my own Heart, what I meant by that Suggestion? in Cases of Preferment, mentioned in the Title; was it not to insinuate, that Preferment was the inducement to that Worthy Person to act against his Conscience?

Sir, Will you be pleased to Examine your own Reason, how that can be, when the Words were printed Three Years before the Fact; and I Appeal to God and the World, whether you have not wrongfully Judg'd me then. But to make it more plain:

I do not say he, or any Body else does it for Preferment; you are pleas'd strangely to mistake me: I say they may have the Preferment without it.

'Tis done to save their Money, to save the Five hundred Pounds, which is the Penalty of the Act: I am sorry you have not Read the Book before you ventur'd to make so severe a Remark. For your better Information, therefore, Sir, I refer you to p. 19. in the Enquiry, where my Words are plain.

As to the Worthy Gentleman, whose Cause you would have this to be; you say this has been his known Judgment and Practice several Years.

Tho' it were true, yet, Sir, this is no Argument to prove the thing lawful, or to prove that it is not practised, even in every part that I have laid down, by others before him, and like to be so after him; it only quits him of doing it against his Conscience, to q•…ellsie himself for the unprofitable Preferment you mention: and this I never Charg'd him with.

That he had done the Fact, no Body Disputes, but that he did it against his Conscience, I never alledg'd; you put that upon me, Sir, unjustly: Be his Conscience to God and himself, I know better than to judge him, nor can you without a Breach of Charity suggest it of me.

Nor do I any-where say that others have acted against their Consciences that do so; possibly they may by the help of nice Distinguishing, Reason themselves into a Belief of their being in the Right.

But the Point in Debate is, Whether whatever their Opinions may be in the Case, the Act it self be not, as I have said, Circumstantially sinful: For I hope you will grant me they are never the more in the Right for its being their Opinion: Truth is always unmov'd, sullen, and the same, whatever Gloss our Fancy or Interest puts upon it.

But since you will have it be this Gentlemans practice, which I think no Reputation to him, nor Defence of the Practice: Nor do I think you or he can justifie your Dissenting from the Church of England, and that Practice together: Since, I say, you will have it be that Gentleman's practice; all you gain by that in point of Argument, is, That he did not do it against his Conscience, nor to serve the present Turn. And what then? I affirm to you, I neither meant him nor any Man else, but him that is Guilty; and I meant him, and every Body else, if they are guilty. And what is all this to the purpose? The Question is not here, Who is, or is not guilty of it; but whether the thing in its own Nature, aggravated with the Circumstances of Turn and Return, timed for Preferment, with all the black Et cetera's of it, as 'tis lately practic'd, and as I have laid it down, be a Crime, or no?

If this Gentleman you would Embroil me with, did formerly live in a general, or ordinary Communion, both with the Church of England, and a private Congregation, before eit•… the Preferments, I mention, invited, or the Penalty of the Law forced him to it; Then he stands clear of this part of the Charge, that he did it for the protection of his Interest; but still the Matter of Fact is true.

Thus, Sir, I have said what I thought my self oblig'd to by way of Reply to your Considerations: And as to your Censures, tho' I have a great Opinion of your Charity, however you seem to be out of Temper in this Case; yet I appeal from your Judgment, to the Judgment of Truth; and waving all your puzzling Distinctions, which my Respect for your Person and Character, will not permit me to Descant upon; give me leave to make this short Conclusion.

Sincerity is the Glory of a Christian; the Native Lustre of an honest Heart is impossible to be hid; 'twill shine through all his Life in one Action or another in spite of Scandal; and it wants no Artifice to set it out.

If the Practice we Discourse of be to be Defended, let it be a Practice; I mean, let it be Voluntary, let it be Free and Spontaneous; and if Gentlemen, who have such a Latitude in their Opinions, wou'd not have it thought they are mov'd to it by their Interests, let them practice it openly, and not Time it so to the very Eve of an Election, as to have it speak of it self, and, as it were, force Men to believe it done on purpose; nay, let them not put such a Reproach in the Mouths of their Enemies, as to have it spoken in Contempt, with Circumstances that stop the Mouths of Argument, and are as Convincing as Demonstration.

You have given your Blessing to them at the Conclusion of your Book, with a Let them go on and prosper. I wish you have not spoken Peace where there is no Peace: As to its being a Secret between God and Them; I shall only say, Enter not into their Secret, O my Soul! 'Tis an Arcana that is hidden from my Eyes, and I doubt very much how it can consist with consulting the Rule with the serious Diligence you recommend: For certainly were the great Christian Rule consulted, it wou'd instruct them, that the Profession of the Christian Religion is not a thing, the Forms whereof are of such indifference, as you seem to make it; that 'tis not a light thing to shift and change Communion with an Establish'd, and with a Separate Church, as often as Convenience, or Reason of State, or Interest invite.

And whether I set my Name to this, or no? Whether I am an Independent? I hope they are Christians too as well as other folks. Whether I am a Fifth-Monarchy-man? Whether the Book was design'd against my Lord Mayor, tho' 'twas wrote Three Years before he was Chosen? Or, whether any thing else you Censoriously charge me with be true, or no, seems to me not worth your while to Examine? Since if I shou'd grant them all, the Argument of Occasional Conformity remains untouch'd.

If the Truth be made the worse for my Temper, I am sorry for it: But this is another of Mr. How's Paradoxes, and something like your Ʋnprofitable Preferment, that Truth, tho' it be mix'd with the worst Temper in the World, shou'd thereby be so debased as to become worse than Error.

Sir, I had ended here, but for a Clause you force me to Reply to, concerning the Old Puritans, who you tax me with abusing: Indeed 'twas as remote from my Thoughts, as 'twas, that ever it was possible you cou'd treat an Adversary with such Language.

And, but that I shall not suffer my self to be transported beyond the Bounds of Civility, and so fall into your Error, I cou'd allow my self to be very much mov'd, That such a Man as you should venture to Charge me with what is neither true in Fact, nor can be suggested by Consequence from any thing I have wrote: And, Sir, you must give me leave to say, I am sorry you shou'd lay your self so open, and force me to so severe a Remark.

You are pleas'd to affirm, That I industriously represent the Primitive English Puritans, as if they were generally of my stingy, narrow Spirit.

And here you run upon me with ill Language, How I could think to Impose upon the World in a matter of so recent Memory; and, How I could have the Confidence, &c. This is really a new sort of Stile from Mr. How.

Sir, I have industriously examin'd the Book I wrote; and, as I am sure I never entertain'd a Thought in prejudice of the best Character that can be given those Primitive Reformers; so I cannot find one Word in the whole Book which can, no, not with the help of an Innuendo, be so much as pretended to look that way.

Wherefore Sir, unless you can make it out, or, by the help of some of your Distinctions, come off from it; I hope you will do me so much Justice, as you are a Man of Truth and Honesty, to recant the Scandal, and acknowledge your self mistaken.

And that I may leave it to every body to Judge, whether I have not just Ground for what I say; I shall quote here all that I have said relating to the Puritans, and impartially lay down the Matter of Fact.

After I had given a short Abridgment of our Reformation, and recited the Controversie between Bishop Ridley and Bishop Hooper, I proceeded thus, Page the 6th. When Queen Elizabeth Restored the Protestant Religion, and the Church enjoy'd its Peace again, the Debate reviv'd: But the first Establishment of King Edward, obtained so on the Minds of Men, that the farther Reformation was rejected: The other Party being not at all Convinc'd, tho' Over-rul'd, submitted their Persons to the Laws, but not their Opinions; affirming, That it was the Duty of every Christian to endeavour to serve God with the greatest Purity of Worship as was possible; and that this was the purest Worship which came nearest the Divine Institution, which they believed the Establish'd Liturgy did not; and therefore in Conscience they must be Dissenters.

Having made this Quotation, which I have sufficient Authority to prove genuine, from a Manuscript of a famous Man in those days, which I have seen, and on occasion am ready to produce: I go on thus:

It must be own'd, that the Original Authors of these Disputes were Learned, Devout, and Singularly Pious, strict in Conversation to Excess, if that were possible; and from thence in a sort of happy Derision, were call'd Puritans: Of whom I shall say nothing, but leave for a Record the last Speech of a famous Foreigner; ‘Sit anima mea cum Puritanis Anglicanis.’

This is all the Words that have the least Retrospect on the Puritans, unless you will pretend that a few words, Page 24. is meant of them, which no Man can have any Colour of Reason for: But lest that shou'd be pretended, I shall quote them also, Page 24.

The Dissenters can never pretend to be Dissenters upon the meer Principle of Purity of Worship, as I have related in the beginning of this Discourse, if such shall be receiv'd as blameless into their Communion, who have Deserted them upon occasion of Preferment.

This refers back to Page 12. where, I say, I shall give my Essay as to what I understand a real Dissenting Protestant is, nor can it refer to any other place: But if you shou'd still say it looks back to the Puritans, 'twou'd puzzle a better Head than mine to find out a Reflection on them in it.

But this is not the only thing in which you are pleased to injure both me and the Truth: For, Page 28. you tell me with some Heat too, That throughout my Book, such as are so stingily (your Favourite word, Sir) bigotted to a Party, as I, are treated with this sort of Charity, to be stil'd Painted Hypocrites, such as play Bopeep with God Almighty, That if such an Occasion offer it self to any of them to serve God and their Country in a publick Station, do what the Law requires, and which they may sinlesly do in order to it, do trespass upon their Consciences, and D•… their Souls to save their Countries.

Sir, for God-sake, how came you to let your Passion thus out-run your Memory?

There is not one word of all this true: Pardon me that I am oblig'd in my own Defence to say so: I refer you to the Criginal to convince your self of it, and I'll take the pains to go along with you in the Examination.

First, As to Painted Hypocrites, 'tis spoken of the whole Body of Protestants in England, in haec Verba.

P. 8. I must acknowledge it fares with the Chsrch of England, and with Dissenters both, as it has always far'd with Christs Church in the whole World; that while suppress'd and persecuted, their Professors were few, and their Profession more severe: But when Religion comes to be the Mode of a Country, so many Painted Hypocrites, there's the Word, get into the Church, that Guile is not to be seen till it arrive to Apostacy.

Pray, Sir, who can these Painted Hypocrites refer to, that you should say, Innuendo, All those that are not of my Party, or that are not so stingy as I?

These painted Hypocrites must belong to that Religion which is the Mode of the Country: which must rather mean the Church of England than the Dissenters: and yet if I meant either of them, it cannot be made a Reflection, because 'tis confin'd only to such as are Apostates from Religion, not such as continue to Conform to both or either of them.

This is Judging me indeed neither with Charity nor Truth: The next Words are, Such as play Bo-peep with God Almighty. Pray, good Sir, reflect on Solomon, and what is said of such as judge of a Matter before they hear it: I am perswaded you did not read the Clause; which is thus:

I had been Examining the Woful Excuse of some people, and too many such we had, who wou'd take the Sacrament at the Church, and pretend 'twas done only as a Civil Action; on which I made such Remarks as, I think, so prophane a Practice deserv'd; and at last added, This is playing Bo-peep with God Almighty.

And, pray Sir, if I may be so free with you, do but examine the Circumstance as I have laid it down, and tell me from the Sincerity of your Soul, if you are not of the same Mind.

The other Reflection is on such, who, tho' it be against their Consciences, pretend 'tis to serve their Country: Of these, I say, They are Patriots indeed, who will Damn their Souls to save their Country: Not that thereby I imply, that to take the Sacrament with the Church of England, wou'd Damn any Mans Soul, if he communicated with a right Principle; but to do it to serve a Turn, which is the Question in hand, I won't answer for, tho' it were inverted from the Church to a Dissenting Congregation.

All these Instances, Sir, and more which I could reckon up, serve to make me admire wherein I have so provok'd you, as to remove you from your wonted Candor: And since my Writing on a Cause, which I expected fairer Quarter in, so exceedingly moves you, I shall chuse rather to lay down the Controversy, than to engage with a Person, who I shou'd be very much concern'd to see exceed the Rules which he has with so much Success, and so much Applause prescrib'd to others.

I always thought Men might Dispute without Railing, and Differ without Quarrelling; and that Opinions need not affect our Tempers: But since it is not to be found, I leave it to those who have a better Talent that way than I.

POSTCRIPT.
Besides your Book, Sir, which I think treats me Coursly enough; I am since threatned to be worse us'd by a Gentleman, who thinks himself concern'd in my affronting you, as he calls it.

I assure you, Sir, I do not charge you with any part of it; I believe you to be more a of a Christian, and more of a Gentleman, nor am I sensible I gave you any affront, I am sure I intended you none.

But because that Gentleman, I understand, expects some Answer this way, I have this to say to him;

That if he thinks himself capable to give me Personal Correction, he knows me well enough, and need never want an opportunity to be Welcome.

D. F.

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A collection of the writings of the author of The true-born English-man.

Defoe, Daniel, 1661?-1731.

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http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/4547

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1106015460

ID [isbn13]

9781106015464

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K060980.000

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CW3312696285

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0454100800

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— A collection of the writings of the author of The true-born English-man., Defoe, Daniel, 1661?-1731.. [2],112,117-289,[1]p. ; 8⁰. London :: printed [for John How] in the year,. 1703.. [The author of The true-born English-man = Daniel Defoe.] [The unauthorized edition.] [Publisher identified in Moore.] [Text and register continuous despite pagination.] [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [Moore, 54] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT71926.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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