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

THE PREFACE.

[]

THE End of Satyr is Reformation: And the Au⯑thor, 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 In⯑correct 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-Na⯑ture 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 Prote⯑ſtants, have all along endeavour'd to reduce the Li⯑berties 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 Un⯑eaſineſs 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 Bene⯑factor, 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.

[8]

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.
[9] 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.
[10] 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,
[11] 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;
[12] 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.

[13]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.

[14]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:
[15] 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.

[16]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:
[17] 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,
[18] 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.
[19] 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.

[20]

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.
[21] 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.
[22] 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.

[23]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.
[24] 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.
[25] 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:
[26] 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.

[27]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:
[28] 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;
[29] 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:
[30] 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.
[31] 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.

[32] 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.

[33]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.
[34] 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.
[35] 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.
[36] 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.

[37] 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.
[38] 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.
[39] 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 De⯑vil,
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.
[40] 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;
[41] 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.

[42]

To the QUEEN.

MADAM,

YOUR Majeſty has ſo often declar'd Your juſt Con⯑cern 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 An⯑ceſtor, that it cannot be thought diſpleaſing to Your Ma⯑jeſty, 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 [43] Proclamation. 'Twou'd be an Affront to Your Majeſty to imagine there were any, under all thoſe Heads of Your Go⯑vernment, 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 Glori⯑ous Memory of the late King has led the Author into any Exceſſes, he begs Your Majeſty would place it to the Ac⯑count 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 Na⯑tive 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 ad⯑here the firmer to their Duty, all Your Proteſtant Neigh⯑bours to depend upon Your Protection, and God ſhall Crown Your Majeſty and theſe Nations with His Special Favour and Benediction.

Amen.

A SATYR, &c.

[44]

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.
[45] 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.

[46]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:
[47] 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?
[48] 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.

[49]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.

[50]

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;
[51] 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.

[52] 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.
[53] 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.

[54]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 Com⯑manders.
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:
[55] 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.
[56] 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;
[57] 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?
[58] 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.
[59] 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.
[60] 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.

[61]

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 rea⯑dily 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 [62] 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 pur⯑poſe, yet make themſelves the Shame of their Country, en⯑couraging 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 Cow⯑ard; 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 Ac⯑count 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.

[32]

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.
[64] 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.
[65] 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;
[66] 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.
[67] 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:
[68] 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.
[69] '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.
[70] 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.
[71] 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:
[72] 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.
[73] 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.
[74] 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.

[75]

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.
[76] 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.
[77] 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.
[78] 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,
[79] 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.
[80] 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,
[81] 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,
[82] 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.

[83]

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.
[84] 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:
[85] 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:
[86] 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:
[87] 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,
[88] 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;
[89] 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:
[90] 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.

[91]

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;
[92] 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:
[93] 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,
[94] 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.

[95]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.

[96]

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;
[97] 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:
[98] 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.

[99]

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,
[101] 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.
[101] 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.

[102]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,
[103] 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.
[104]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;
[105] 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.
[106] 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.
[107] 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.
[108] 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.
[109] 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, 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.

[110]

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 Ty⯑ranny 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 Ex⯑ample. Laws are, in Terrorem Puniſhments, and Ma⯑giſtrates 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 Pro⯑batum eſt to the following Propoſal; and to that Judgment be refers all thoſe who Object againſt it.

THE The Poor Man's PLEA.

[111]

IN ſearching for a proper Cure of an Epidemick Diſtemper, Phyſicians do tell us 'tis firſt neceſſa⯑ry 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 in⯑deed 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 Parli⯑ament, 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 Tro⯑phies 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 Coun⯑try, 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 infect⯑ed with Vice as we are now; and 'twill ſeem ſuffici⯑ent to enquire into the Cauſes of our preſent Defecti⯑on.

The Proteſtant Religion ſeems to have an unqueſti⯑oned Title to the firſt introducing a ſtrict Morality [112] mong us; and 'tis but juſt to give the Honour of it, where 'tis ſo eminently due. Reformation of Man⯑ners has ſomething of a Natural Conſequence in it from Reformation in Religion For ſince the prin⯑ciples of the Proteſtant Religion diſown the Indulgen⯑cies 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 Te⯑ſtimony of its own Divine Original, and accordingly it has ſuppreſs'd Vice and Immorality in all the Coun⯑tries where it has had a Footing: It has civiliz'd Nati⯑ons, 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 fi⯑niſhed by Queen Elizabeth, brought the Engliſh Nati⯑on to ſuch a degree of Humanity, and Sobriety of Converſation, as we have reaſon to doubt will hard⯑ly be ſeen again in our Age.

In King James the Firſt's time, the Court affect⯑ing 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, diſ⯑pers'd all manner of Prophanneſs throughout the Kingdom. That Prince, tho' very Pious in his own [117] 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 un⯑happy 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, Proclama⯑tions 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 Al⯑lowance 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 Glo⯑rious 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 up⯑on while the King was engaged in his Wars abroad: She firſt gave all ſorts of Vice a general Diſcourage⯑ment; and on the contrary, rais'd the value of Vir⯑tue 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 diſ⯑courage the practice of it by his Royal Example.

Thus the Work is begun nobly and regularly; and the Parliament, the General Repreſentative of the Na⯑tion, [118] 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 aggrie⯑ved in all this Work of Reformation; and this Re⯑forming Rigor makes the real Work impoſſible: Wherefore we find our ſelves forced to ſeek Redreſs of our Grievances in the old honeſt way of Petition⯑ing 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, impartial⯑ly enquiring into the matter, ſpeaking of Moral Good⯑neſs, 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 fair⯑ly going on to make us all Graduates in the laſt De⯑gree of Immorality.

Secondly. We do not find that all the Proclama⯑tions, Declarations, and Acts of Parliament yet made, have any effective Power to puniſh you for your Immo⯑ralities, 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 [119] 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 a⯑gainſt, as unjuſt and unequal.

Wherefore, till the Nobility, Gentry, Juſtices of the Peace, and Clergy, will be pleaſed either to Re⯑form their own Manners, and ſuppreſs their own Im⯑moralities, or find out ſome method and Power im⯑partially to puniſh themſelves when guilty, we Hum⯑bly 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 Superi⯑ours, 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, whe⯑ther 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 influ⯑ence 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 Coun⯑try; 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 [120] the poor Commons, who have been always eaſy to be guided by the Example of our Landlords and Gentle⯑men, have really been debauch'd into Vice by their Examples: And it muſt be the Example of you the No⯑bility 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 inſig⯑nificant 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 where⯑ever 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 Vint⯑ners have been fin'd for drawing Drink on the Sab⯑bath 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, whe⯑ther Laws or Proclamations are capable of having any Effect towards a Reformation of Manners, while the Benches of our Juſtices are infected with the ſcanda⯑lous Vices of Swearing and Drunkenneſs; while our Juſtices themſelves ſhall puniſh a man for Drunken⯑neſs, with a God damn him, ſet him in the Stocks: And [121] 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 Fi⯑gure 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 cor⯑rupt Appetites, without the Reſtraint of Laws, while you your ſelves agree that ſuch Offences ſhall be pun⯑iſhed 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 Man⯑ners 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, Drun⯑kenneſs, 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 them⯑ſelves, and effectually reform their own Lives, their way of converſing, and their common Behaviour a⯑mong their Servants and Neighbours.

1. The Gentry. They are the Original of the Modes, and Cuſtoms, and Manners of their Neigh⯑bours; and their examples in the Countries eſpecially are very moving. There are three ſeveral Vices, which have the principal Mannagement of the great⯑eſt [122] part of Mankind, viz. Drunkenneſs, Swearing, and Whoring; all of them very ill becoming a Gen⯑tleman, however Cuſtom may have made them Mo⯑diſh: 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 ſor⯑did, 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 writ⯑ten, 'twould plainly appear that it begun among the Gentry, and from them was handed down to the poo⯑rer ſort, who ſtill love to be like their Betters. Af⯑ter the Reſtitution of King Charles the Second, when drinking the King's Health became the diſtinction between a Cavalier and a Roundhead, Drunkenneſs be⯑gan 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 addi⯑tional 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 [123] 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 Entertain⯑ment 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 Who⯑ring are Accompliſhments Men begin to value them⯑ſelves 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 [124] made the Crime a Badge of Honour to their Breeding and introduce the practice as a Faſhion. And who⯑ever gives himſelf the Trouble to Reflect on the Cu⯑ſtom of our Gentlemen in their Families, encourage⯑ing 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 Gen⯑tlemen, 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 Cuſt⯑om 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 Mur⯑th'ring Eſquire Thynn, God would ſhow them ſome re⯑ſpect as they were Gentlemen.

If there were any reaſon why a Rich Man ſhould be permitted in the publick Exerciſe of Open Immo⯑ralities, 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 Neigh⯑bourhood, [125] gives offence to the Sober, and encourages and hardens the Lewd, and quite overthrows the weak Reſolutions of ſuch as are but indifferently fix⯑ed 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 puniſh⯑ing 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, per⯑haps 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 Refi⯑ned 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 re⯑news the Crime.

[126] The Caſe in ſhort is this; the Lewdneſs, Prophane⯑neſs, 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 up⯑on them to puniſh them, and let others as guilty go free; and a ſort of Cruelty too, in taking the advan⯑tage 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 Magiſt⯑rate, 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 Affida⯑vit be made before a Juſtice, that ſuch or ſuch a man Swore, or was Drunk, he muſt, or cannot avoid Fin⯑ding 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 o⯑peneſt 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:

[127] 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 Neigh⯑bourhood, 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 Informati⯑on, but want of puniſhing what they have Informati⯑on 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 Ju⯑ſtice 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 di⯑ſcourage Evidence is to diſcourage Juſtice; but that a Man in Trial of the Morality of his Neighbour, ſhould be [128] 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 per⯑ſons 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 Mi⯑mick 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 inform⯑ing 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 practi⯑cing 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 Diſ⯑ſenters, we found a great many Gentlemen very Vi⯑gorous in Proſecuting their Neighbours; they did not ſtick to appear in Perſon to diſturb Meetings, and [125] demoliſh the Meeting-Houſes, and rather than fail, would be Informers themſelves; the reaſon was be⯑cauſe 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 for⯑ward and zealous to root the practice of it out of the Neighbourhood, they would not be backward or a⯑ſham'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 put⯑ting their hands to the Work; they would not be a⯑ſham'd to appear in the detecting Debauchery, or a⯑fraid to embroil themſelves with their Rich Neigh⯑bours. 'Tis Guilt of the ſame Fact which makes Con⯑nivance, and till that guilt be removed, the Gentle⯑men 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 dif⯑ficulty 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 re⯑form the whole Kingdom without either Laws, Pro⯑clamations, or Informers; and without their Concur⯑rence, 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 Proclama⯑tion, unleſs the Gentlemen in whoſe hands the Execu⯑tion of thoſe Laws is placed, take care to ſee them du⯑ly made uſe of; and how can Laws be duly Executed-but by an impartial Diſtribution of equal Rewards, [130] and Puniſhments, without Regard to the Quality and Degree of the Perſons? The Laws puſh on the Ju⯑ſtices 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 Im⯑moralities, 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 Modiſh⯑neſs 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 dife⯑ſteem, 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 Employ⯑ed, no Shopkeeper would be Traded with by a Gen⯑tleman, but ſuch as like themſelves, were ſober and honeſt; a Lewd Vicious Drunken Footman muſt Re⯑form or Starve, he would get no Service; a Servant once turn'd away for his Intemperance would be En⯑tertain'd by no Body elſe; a Swearing Debauch'd Labourer or Workman muſt Reform, or no Body would Employ him; the Drunken Whoring Shop⯑keeper muſt grow Sober, or loſe all his Cuſtomers, and be undone. Intereſt and Good Manners will re⯑form us of the poorer ſort, there would be no need of the Stocks or Houſes of Correction; we ſhould be [131] Sober of Courſe, becauſe we ſhould be all Beggars elſe; and he that loved the Vice ſo dearly as to pur⯑chaſe 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 pre⯑ſently Notorious, he would be the Talk of the Town, every one wou'd ſlight and ſhun him for fear of be⯑ing 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 them⯑ſelves 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 Cohe⯑rence of the thing; the Parſon preaches a thundering Ser⯑mon 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 Wick⯑ed 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 [130] 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 Gentle⯑men 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 reflecti⯑on.

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 Lewd⯑neſs firſt, if we do not follow you, then ſet us in the Stocks, and ſend us to the Houſe of Correction, and [133] puniſh us as you pleaſe; if you will leave off Whor⯑ing firſt, then Brand us in the Foreheads, or Tranſ⯑port 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 to⯑wards 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 them⯑ſelves; '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 Dege⯑neracy to their folly, and how much it is in their Po⯑wer 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 Gen⯑tlemen, 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.

[134]

Preface to Mr. HOW.

SIR,

THeſe Sheets are addreſs'd to you, becauſe the Au⯑thor, 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 [135] 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 Fre⯑quency of Examples.

Sir, If you knew the Author, you would eaſily be ſatis⯑fied 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 ma⯑ny 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 Congrega⯑tion in particular, on the Diſſenters in general.

And if not ſo allow'd, then he conjures you by the Hon⯑our 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 ſuita⯑ble 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.

[136]

WHEN I review the Paſt Times, and look back upon the various Scenes which they preſent us, as to Eccleſiaſtical Tranſacti⯑ons within this Kingdom, there ſeems nothing more ſtrange than the Turns we have had from Popiſh to Re⯑gal Supremacy, from the Romiſh Religion to Reform'd, from Reform'd back again to Romiſh, and then to Refor⯑med again, and ſo on thro' ſeveral Degrees of Refor⯑mation, 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 hor⯑rible 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 [137] much Moment in his Thoughts, but his Intereſt, as the Sequel made plain, by the Seizure he made of the Re⯑venues of the Church.

And yet the Juſtice of Providence ſeems very con⯑ſpicuous 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 ſuppreſ⯑ſed 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 e⯑ſtabliſh'd the Reformation in his time; but God who gave him that light, if he had it, however he might ac⯑cept 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 de⯑fence of the Truth.

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

[138] 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 ima⯑gin'd, was finiſh'd and eſtabliſh'd; the Romaniſts fled or conformed; for we find but very few had an Inclina⯑tion 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 Glo⯑ry of his Church, ſuffer'd all this great Fabrick, how⯑ever 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 Reforma⯑tion 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 Reformati⯑on 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 need⯑ful, 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.

[139] '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 Superſti⯑tion, there was yet ſeveral things which might be fur⯑ther 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 pur⯑ſue 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 En⯑gland 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 Pro⯑teſtant 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 Opi⯑nion; affirming, ‘"That 'twas the Duty of every Chri⯑ſtian, to endeavour to ſerve God with the grea⯑teſt 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 eſta⯑bliſh'd Liturgy did not, and therefore in Conſcience they muſt be Diſſenters.’

[140] 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 poſ⯑ſible, 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 Fo⯑reigner, 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 pre⯑ſent 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 Cen⯑tury of the Chriſtian Church, is full of Inſtances to confirm this, That the Proſperity of the Church of [141] Chriſt has been more fatal to it, than all the Peſecuti⯑on 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 Prote⯑ſtant Intereſt to pieces by its own weight; and no⯑thing 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 alter⯑nately, 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 Pro⯑teſtant is now the common Title of an Engliſhman, the Church of England extends her Protection to the tender Conſciences of her Weaker Brethren, know⯑ing 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 Ju⯑dicious.

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 entire⯑ly; 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 [142] 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 Contra⯑diction, 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 Ob⯑ject, one and the ſame thing perfectly indiviſible and inſeparable there is in it no Neuter Gender, no Am⯑biguous Article, God or Baal; Mediums are impoſſible.

As to the different Modes and Ways, which are the Circumſtantials of this Sacred Thing I call Reli⯑gion; 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 ta⯑king 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 Hea⯑ven; but this is nothing at all to the Caſe; for no Ship would arrive at any Port that ſailed two ways toge⯑ther, 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 Eng⯑land, and the Diſſenter, ſuffer in their Reputation [143] 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 Per⯑ſonal 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 Do⯑ctrines 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 ac⯑count, 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 real⯑ly ſerve God more agreeable to his Will, and that ac⯑cordingly '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 [144] 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 Congre⯑gations. They have appear'd Zealous, Conſcienti⯑ous, and Conſtant; have born the Reproaches and Inconveniences of their Party, nay, ſuffer'd Perſecu⯑tion, 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 Perſecu⯑ted, Suffering Diſſenters, to make themſelves room in the Publick Advancements, and Glittering Gaw⯑dy Honours of the Age, ſhall Conform to that which they refus'd under all thoſe Diſadvantages to do be⯑fore. And which is worſe than all this; hear O Hea⯑vens! 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 An⯑ſwer 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 ad⯑mittance into publick Employments, which they think it their Duty to accept in order to ſerve their Coun⯑try, which they doubly perform by Executing thoſe Offices to the publick Intereſt, and by excluding thoſe who would otherwiſe get into thoſe places, and be⯑tray 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 [145] 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 In⯑tention 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 under⯑ſtood 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, bow⯑ing the Head, tho' it may be a cuſtomary Act of Wor⯑ſhip 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 Salu⯑tations. 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 Sacri⯑fices to the Idol Rimmon, the Prophet would hardly have bid him go in peace. Some Actions are not Ci⯑vil or Religious, as they are Civilly or Religiouſly perform'd, but as they are Civil or Religious in them⯑ſelves; 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, be⯑fore Chriſt, the Sacrifices by Fire; And the Judg⯑ments of God on Nadab and Ahihu, for attempting to offer Sacrifice with ſtrange Fire, ſtands as a terrible [146] 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 Recogni⯑tion of the moſt Sacred of Oaths, muſt be alſo taken in the Senſe of the Impoſer. If the Perſon Admini⯑ſtring 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 A⯑men to the Prayer, and ſay 'tis a Civil Action. This is ſuch Bantering with Religion, as no Modeſt Chri⯑ſtian 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 [147] this Anſwer, put the caſe wrong. For I would de⯑ſire 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 Bo⯑dies 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 con⯑formity; for the Lord does not ſay, you ſhall ſo and ſo Conform, but if you do not Conform, you ſhall in⯑cur 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 Coun⯑try, 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 do⯑ing Evil that Good may come, which is expreſly for⯑bidden.

But we are told again, This is in it ſelf no Sinful Act, and therefore it is not doing Evil. This is ta⯑citly 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 ſatis⯑fied 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 Per⯑ſons return immediately to the former Profeſſion as [148] 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 Conſci⯑ences 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 there⯑fore '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 Par⯑ties are Good Chriſtians, there are differences between them which they don't underſtand nor meddle with, and their Conſciences are very well ſatisfied to Com⯑municate with either.

I would ask ſuch, if their Conſciences would ſerve to Communicate with the Church, why did they Sepa⯑rate? 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 ſatis⯑fied 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 Conſci⯑ence of any Religion at all, it muſt be of ſome Reli⯑gion or other; if of this, it cannot be of that, if of [149] 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 lit⯑tle 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 Re⯑flections. I wiſh they would be as Charitable in cen⯑ſuring 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-Communi⯑on 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 Au⯑thority, which I believe does not appertain to the Mi⯑niſterial 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 Eſta⯑bliſh'd them; I am ſure, the allowance of any Member in a Promiſcuous Communion with the Church of Eng⯑land and the Diſſenter at the ſame time, is not pre⯑tended 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 no⯑thing; [150] 'tis of abſolute neceſſity that one Man be but of one ſide, at one and the ſame time. Either the Con⯑formiſt 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 Coun⯑try.

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 Per⯑fidy 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 Diſ⯑ſenters 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 Com⯑munion, who have deſerted them upon the occaſion of Preferment, and have made the Sacred Inſtitutions of Chriſt Jeſus, become Pimps to their Secular Intereſt, [151] 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 Pra⯑ctice; 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 con⯑tinued 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 juſti⯑fie their Separation from them, or elſe their whole Conſtitution falls to the Ground. Now, how a Se⯑paration and a Conformity are Conſiſtent, is to me an Inexplicable Riddle.

I queſtion not here the Lawfulneſs of the Diſſen⯑ters 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 Chur⯑ches 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 [152] Magiſtrate, and has Courage enough to follow the Impartial Dictates of his Conſcience, a Query lies be⯑fore 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 Con⯑cience 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 Specu⯑lative 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 Diſſen⯑ter; 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 car⯑ying the Sword to a Conventicle, or bringing the Conventicle to his own Houſe. But to make the mat⯑ter a Game, to dodge Religions, and go in the Morn⯑ing to Church, and in the Afternoon to the Meeting; to Communicate in private with the Church of Eng⯑land, to ſave a Penalty, and then go back to the Diſ⯑ſenters and Communicate again there: This is ſuch a Retrograde Devotion, that I can ſee no colour of pre⯑tence 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 Lay⯑man, 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 [153] 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 Con⯑tradictions 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.

[154] 'Tis hard for a Man to ſay, all the World is miſta⯑ken but himſelf; but if it be ſo who can help it?

But ſince 'tis not likely a Single Vote ſhou'd pre⯑vail upon Eſpous'd Errors, in an Age when every one is ſo fond of themſelves, he that ſtarts Truth by him⯑ſelf 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 med⯑dled 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 un⯑dertaken 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 Bo⯑dy 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 O⯑pinions, ſome their Hopes, ſome their Fears, and ſo it ſhou'd have been to the end of the Chapter, if I cou'd [155] have found but one middle Sort, that, free from Pre⯑judice 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 particular⯑ly 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 mi⯑ſtaken.

Secondly, All thoſe who take it as a Prelude or In⯑troduction to the further Suppreſſing of the Diſſen⯑ters, 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 Pro⯑pheſie 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 Deſola⯑tion 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.

[156] 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 Re⯑fine 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 Eng⯑land 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 Diſſen⯑ters with their Breath, blow up their Intereſt in the Nation, and we ſhou'd be all one Church and one Peo⯑ple, 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 con⯑cerned 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 be⯑gan the War, and Mr. Sachavrell, in his Sermon at Oxford, Dooms all the Diſſenters to Deſtruction, with⯑out either Bell, Book, or Candle; not regarding com⯑mon [157] 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, Ma⯑dam, 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 them⯑ſelves 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 Gentle⯑men, who upon this Act revive their common Diſ⯑courſe, and are pleas'd to treat the Diſſenters in this manner: Well, Gentlemen, now down you go, the Parlia⯑ment are a beginning with you, and they don't uſe to do Bu⯑ſineſs 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 ta⯑ken Notice of, for any People to pretend to lead them to their Buſineſs; and therefore when they tell us this [158] 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 Diſ⯑ſenters 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, Peo⯑ple 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 in⯑termarriages continually mixt in Relation, concern'd in the ſame Trade, making War with the ſame Ene⯑mies, 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 com⯑mon Juſtice at leaſt, if they can have nothing of Cour⯑teſie, that Peace may be where there is no Occaſion for War, and Quietneſs, and good Manners preſer⯑ved, '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 ſome⯑thing [159] 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 ſe⯑riouſly 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 ſa⯑tisfied, 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 ven⯑tur'd to ſay, ſo many Men, ſo much Wiſer than I, are Miſtaken.

If there are crept into his Company State Diſſen⯑ters, [160] 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 Preju⯑dice 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 Par⯑liament, or an Engliſh Proteſtant Queen, either to Op⯑preſs or Suppreſs ſuch a Diſſenter.

'Tis for the Protection of this Honeſt, Well-mea⯑ning 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 Ac⯑knowledgement 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 Eſta⯑bliſhed.

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 Ha⯑zard of Her Royal Perſon.

Theſe are the Diſſenters who never gave Her Ma⯑jeſty 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, Antinomi⯑ans, Sweet-Singers, Muggletonians, and the like; the [161] Church has alſo Her Socinians, Deiſts, Anti-Trinitari⯑ans, 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 with⯑out 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 Conſtituti⯑on of England, as the Church; and the Church has been equally Diſloyal, and has as often Re⯑ſiſted, and took Arms againſt the Lawful Eſtabliſh'd Power and Prince, as the Diſſenter; and let them en⯑ter 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 Chri⯑ſtians, and Diſſenters, is another.

'Tis alſo Foreign to our Purpoſe to Examine or Re⯑ply 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 poſſib⯑ly 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 [162] 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 Pre⯑caution 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 Bre⯑thren, Liberty to ſerve God according to our Con⯑ſciences; 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 be⯑come 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 Wel⯑come 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 Diſſen⯑ters in England were Schiſmaticks by Nature, and He⯑terdox 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 capa⯑ble of no Amendment, that you cannot Reform far⯑ther, and therefore will not Condeſcend one Step, tho' 'twould bring over Half a Million of Souls to you▪ [163] 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 Oc⯑caſional 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 Pro⯑teſtant 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 Govern⯑ment, yet ſince it muſt be ſo, We hope, Gentlemen, you will be content to take all the Miſcarriages of the Govern⯑ment 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 [164] Places of Profit, Truſt and Honour, and at the ſame time ſhall not be excuſed from thoſe which are attend⯑ed with Charge, Trouble, and Loſs of his Time?

Secondly, That a Diſſenter ſhall be Preſs'd as a Sai⯑lor 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 Mo⯑ney on your Deficient Funds, our Stocks to help car⯑ry 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 Free⯑holders; 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 ſepe⯑rate 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 Uni⯑ty, 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 Inte⯑reſt 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 Pri⯑viledges, we are not for having them deſtroy'd by Ab⯑ſolute 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 Occa⯑ſion, we are of the Opinion, that they can bind the Sub⯑ject no longer than the Soveraign continues the Pro⯑tection 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 be⯑fore, moſt of which we ſuffer'd before, and are like [166] only to have them the faſter entail'd on our Po⯑ſterity.

All thoſe Gentlemen therefore who think this Act will weaken the Diſſenters, or wiſh it would, are ma⯑nifeſtly Miſtaken; it may diſtinguiſh them better, and I am perſwaded will fortifie them in their Honeſt Pro⯑feſſion; '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 Govern⯑ment 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 Veraci⯑ty; 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 of⯑fend [167] either Her Majeſty, or the Laws, if it were poſ⯑ſible to have a Parliament of Church Bigots, or of Pulpit Sachaverells, there will be no Fear of their Li⯑berty.

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 Ca⯑lumny and Reproach to blacken the Diſſenters with Crimes never committed; and which they wou'd ne⯑ver 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 Diſ⯑ſenters; Ridiculus Mus! Is this all? Why really, Gen⯑tlemen, had it been in our Power, you ſhould have had all this without an Act of Parliament; this will [168] Strengthen, not Reduce, us; 'twill pleaſe, not Mor⯑tifie or Humble, us; and thus you find your ſelves all Miſtaken, Miſtaken in the Houſe of Commons them⯑ſelves, 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 Ex⯑pectation of the Queen, to whom their Behaviour is Prepoſterous and Unmannerly.

'Twas prepoſterous for People to expect, that be⯑cauſe the Queen was a Friend to the Church, a con⯑ſtant 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 Fa⯑vour, 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 De⯑clare for the Church, as to her Beſt to Suppreſs and deſtroy all Separate Worſhips, and have all the Prieſts [169] of Baal, the beſt Terms they can beſtow on the Diſ⯑ſenting 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 Diſſen⯑ters ſhall enjoy their Liberty of Conſcience, till they can prevail with Her Majeſty to lay aſide her Veraci⯑ty, 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 Par⯑ties, may have been ſlightly paſs'd over, yet by the ve⯑ry 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 recei⯑ved again upon any other Condition but as a Penitent; 'tis an Act Deſtructive of all poſſible Pretence for Diſ⯑ſenting and never was, nor never can, be defended by any Diſſenter, without over-throwing all the Reaſons they cou'd ever give for Diſſenting.

[170] How then can this Bill be aim'd at the Diſſenters? either they who think 'tis aim'd at them, are Miſta⯑ken; or they that point it at them, are Miſtaken, for Suppreſſing an Error crept in among them, contrary to their Conſtitution, againſt their Judgment, decla⯑red by them to be a Grievance, can never be their In⯑jury, nor ought to be their Trouble.

Let them Name us the Diſſenter that ever vindica⯑ted this Practice, one paſſionate Author excepted; let them tell us the Time when any Congregation recei⯑ved ſuch conforming Nonconformatiſts without diſſa⯑tisfactions 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 Am⯑bo-dexter Conformity, that we think the Hardſhips put upon us with it not worth naming; we doubt not [171] 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 for⯑feit.

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 Pra⯑ctice among us, we cou'd not pretend the Character of a Diſſenter I have here given to be Juſt; but with⯑out 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 Extin⯑guiſhed; 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 declar⯑ing for the future who they are for.

Only purſuant to what has all along been acknow⯑ledg'd, ſo far as we handl'd this Argument, if they wou'd accept of the Friendly Advice of their Bre⯑thren, 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 [172] 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 Conſci⯑ence 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 him⯑ſelf Reſolv'd to turn to the Diſſenters, I think no Con⯑gregation of Diſſenters, according to the Nature of Religious Communion, can receive him upon any o⯑ther Terms than as a Penitent.

If he has not Sinn'd, why ſhou'd he Repent? Says a Lear⯑ned 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 Commu⯑nion.

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 Opi⯑nion, 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 Ne⯑gative 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

[173]

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 them⯑ſelves 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 undiſpu⯑ted Obedience to all her Commands, and an Abhor⯑rence 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 [174] Power, reſiſteth the Ordinance of God; tells us, That if the King ſhou'd by his Royal Command execute the great⯑eſt 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-break⯑ing 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 de⯑ſired 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 [175] 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 Par⯑ties 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 Diſſen⯑ter with Rebellion and Faction, not only in their Na⯑ture, 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 Go⯑vernment, 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 o⯑verwhelm and deſtory; and Commonwealths and Confuſi⯑ons 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 a⯑mounts to in Trade, towards the Subverſion of the Monarchy, and Erecting a Common-wealth, for the very Nature and Tendency of their Profeſſion is de⯑ſtructive [176] of Kingly Power, and the Government of the Nation.

This has been the Opinion of the Church of Eng⯑land, both of themſelves on one Hand, and of the Diſ⯑ſenters 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 mat⯑ter of Loyalty, is a becoming Principle; no, nor a ra⯑tional 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 Monar⯑chy, compoſed of King, Lords, and Commons; each have their ſeveral, their ſeparate, and their conjunctive Powers; which acting in Concert, make the Harmo⯑ny of the Conſtitution. I ſhall not invade the Pro⯑vince of thoſe learned Gentlemen, who have underta⯑ken to ſet forth the Branches of the Conſtitution in all their Powers, Limitations and Prerogatives: 'Tis enough to ſay the Conſtitution is known, the Govern⯑ment is confin'd by Laws, the Crown limited by Sta⯑tutes, and the Peoples Rights confirm'd by the Conceſſi⯑on of Ages.

To this Government, all Diſtinction of Names ſet [177] apart, I am of the Opinion all Parties have in their Turns been equally Loyal; I was going to ſay, equal⯑ly Diſloyal: And if I were to uſe the Language of late Times, it wou'd be a very proper way of ſpeak⯑ing.

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 Go⯑vernment embrac'd the Proteſtant Reform'd Religion; this Proteſtant Religion was eſtabliſh'd by that Zea⯑lous King, and by his Parliament, back'd with the force of Laws, and confirm'd by all the Sanction of Autho⯑rity 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 ſub⯑jecting 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 De⯑fects [178] 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 them⯑ſelves 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 Prin⯑ciple; '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 Refor⯑mation there was no ſuch thing as Church of England, it was then the Church of Rome that was the eſta⯑bliſh'd National Church.

The Proteſtants under the Titles of Lollards, Wick⯑liffians, 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 Hen⯑ry 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 Au⯑thority, 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 diſ⯑ſent from them with the ſame Contempt which them⯑ſelves had receiv'd from the Roman Government.

Thus far they are upon even Terms, as to Obedi⯑ence to their Superiors.

[179] 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 Germa⯑ny, 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 Pati⯑ence and Paſſive Obedience, if I may be allow'd that Ri⯑diculous 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 Ci⯑vil 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 Parlia⯑ment.

And here 'tis worthy Remark, that the firſt Diffe⯑rence 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 up⯑on 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 after⯑wards 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 [180] 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 Loy⯑alty, 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 Advan⯑tage, 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 ex⯑ceed thoſe of Jeſus Chriſt.

I think I have granted as largely as a fair Adver⯑ſary 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 Re⯑proaches 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 Faith⯑ful, Paſſively Obedient, Ʋnſhakenly Loyal, Church, re⯑turn'd to the Original Nature of their Neighbours, and did the ſame thing exactly which the Whigs, the Factious Rebellious Whigs, had done before.

[181] 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 ta⯑ken 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 kil⯑ling 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 [182] 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 ho⯑neſter 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 Govern⯑ment 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 Poſſeſſi⯑ons, 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 Govern⯑ment 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.
[183] 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 Diſſen⯑ters, 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; believ⯑ing that when Kings break Coronation Oaths, the Solemn Compact with their People, and encroach up⯑on 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 Prin⯑ciples vigorouſly withſtanding their Governors when they tread upon the tender ſore Places of the Conſti⯑tution, '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 [184] 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 Ab⯑ſolute 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 Argu⯑ments, 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 For⯑ty-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 [185] 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 law⯑ful 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 com⯑miſſioned by him.

So help me God.

Notwithſtanding this, you have taken up Arms a⯑gainſt, depoſed, and as far as you were able, put to Death your lawful King, the very King you ſwore Al⯑legiance 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 Con⯑cluſions 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 Al⯑legiance, and politically introduc'd by State Engines into the Church of England, to abuſe her, and betray her Members into unforeſeen Miſchiefs and Inconve⯑niences.

[186] 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 Decei⯑vers; who having ſworn Obedience without Reſerve to their Prince, are become Traitors, Rebels, and Murtherers of the Lord's Anointed, and their Law⯑ful 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, ac⯑countable 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 Reſpon⯑dent 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 fol⯑lowing 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 Dimi⯑nution to her Reputation, when ſhe has found her ſelf miſtaken, and impos'd upon, to acknowledge her Er⯑ror; 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 [187] 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 Condi⯑tional, and Oaths of Subjects are always to be conſi⯑der'd in a Conſtructive Sence, with Conditions of Pro⯑tection, and the like; a thing which is without queſtion the real Meaning of all Oaths of Allegiance; other⯑wiſe 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 Poſ⯑ſeſſion 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 contra⯑ry 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 Mi⯑ſtaken, 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 [188] 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 Loy⯑alty, and Whiggiſh Loyalty, Roundhead or Cavalier, Churchman or Diſſenter, Whig or Troy? All are alike; they are pleas'd, when legally Govern'd, Quar⯑relſome 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 Suf⯑ferers, and have ſubmitted to the Government; ay, and to the Oppreſſions and Perſecutions of their Su⯑periors and Soveraigns; and again, upon the like Oc⯑caſions, 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 Loy⯑alty; 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 Free⯑dom 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 [189] 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 there⯑fore the Fanlt lay in thoſe People, who being them⯑ſelves 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 Con⯑ſtitution 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 Govern⯑ment; 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 Obedi⯑ence; for if Kingly Power were once prov'd to be im⯑mediately 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 [190] taken up Arms againſt their Prince, aſſaulted the Lords Anointed, reſiſted the Powers, which are the Ordi⯑nance of God, depoſed their Lawful Soveraign, broken their Allegiance, and conſequently are a Parcel of Per⯑jur'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 Na⯑ture of Government has made it the neceſſary Conſe⯑quence 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 Nati⯑on, and this among the reſt, has oftentimes Depos'd their Princes for the Preſervation of the State, when either Incapacity for Government, Tyrannical Uſur⯑pation, 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 Ger⯑many and Muſcovy, even the Papal Chair, have ſuffer'd Convulſions and Revolutions, the Depoſing and Diſ⯑placing 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.

[191] 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 Op⯑ponent 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 a⯑mong 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 Common⯑wealth-Men?

How comes it to paſs in England, that no Papiſt can inherit? Divine Right ought to ſupercede all Precau⯑tions, and the Young Prince of Savoy, not the Houſe of Hannover ought to Reign with a Non Obſtante to all [192] Humane Limitation, if all was from Heaven? Where are our Right Line-Men now! Why, truly the Rea⯑ſon 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 Per⯑ſecuted 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 exa⯑mine 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 up⯑on due Search it will be fouhd, that under the Pro⯑tection of Two Proteſtant Queens, Wives of King Henry VIII. they had more than once form'd ſuch In⯑tereſt 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 ne⯑ceſſary Policy in King Henry, to prevent the Plots of the Phanatical Church of England Hereticks; a long Ac⯑count [193] 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 Suc⯑ceſſion 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, pro⯑vided 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 Liber⯑ty 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 Li⯑berty 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 a⯑gainſt [194] 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 Govern⯑ment, 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, Impri⯑ſonings, Baniſhment, Confiſcations, and Corporal Puniſhments.

So that hitherto the Paſſive Obedience of the Diſ⯑ſenters hath far exceeded that of the Church of Eng⯑land. Theſe had but Five Years Oppreſſion under Queen Mary, and in that Five Years they once Capi⯑tulated 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 [195] they ſo much as made the leaſt offer at doing them⯑ſelves 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 Monar⯑chy, 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 Perſecu⯑ted, Plunder'd, Indicted, Impriſon'd, Plagu'd with Im⯑poſitions, Stigmatiz'd with a Thouſand Reproaches, their Meeting-Houſes Demoliſh'd, their Eſtates Con⯑fiſcated, their Perſons Excommunicated, and Anathe⯑matiz'd, Sworn into Plots they never Heard of, and in⯑to 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 Op⯑poſitions.

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 Religi⯑on 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 them⯑ſelves [196] humble Slaves, but when the Trial came, pro⯑ving 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 pre⯑tend to more Loyalty, and more ſlaviſh Principles than you intend to practice.

Never pretend to more Obedience than your Sove⯑reign 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 Obedi⯑ence 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 abu⯑ſing 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 Fu⯑ture 'tis hoped you will not ſuffer ſuch to Mingle themſelves among you, or to Act in the Name of [197] the Church of England, who pretend to a Blind Ab⯑ſolute 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 Col⯑lection 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 [198] 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 Appre⯑henſions of being further Treated as they deſerve, begin, with Aeſop's-Cock, to Preach up Peace and U⯑nion, and the Chriſtian Duties of Moderation, forget⯑ting, 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 Roy⯑al, 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, Forbear⯑ance, 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 [199] 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 load⯑ed with Reproaches, with Oaths, Aſſociations, Abju⯑rations, and what not; where has been the Mercy, the forbearance, the Charity, you have ſhewn to ten⯑der 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 Govern⯑ment? 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 Pow⯑er, to execute the Laws upon any part of that Nation it governs. The execution of the known Laws of the [200] 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 tranſ⯑greſs them, after voluntarily conſenting to the mak⯑ing 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 ſuf⯑fer'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 Puri⯑tans 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, Im⯑priſon, and at laſt put to Death, the Anointed of God, and Deſtroy the very Being and Nature of Govern⯑ment, 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 ex⯑ecution of the Laws; had he given them ſtrict Juſtice he had clear'd the Nation of them, and the Conſequen⯑ces had been plain; his Son had never been Murther'd by them, nor the Monarchy overwhelm'd; 'twas too [201] 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 Tolera⯑tion, 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 ap⯑parent 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 Loy⯑al 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, ma⯑king People compound for their Eſtates, and ſtarve their Families? How did they treat the Clergy of the Church of England, ſequeſter'd the Miniſters, de⯑vour'd the Patrimony of the Church, and divided the Spoil, by ſharing the Church-Lands among their Sol⯑diers, 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, mention⯑ed 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 preten⯑ded [202] 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 Par⯑liament, 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 Ju⯑ſtice upon them; but that miſtaken Prince thought to win them by Gentleneſs and Love, Poclaim'd an Uni⯑verſal 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 Grie⯑vances, they puſht Things to that Extremity, in Con⯑junction wirh ſome miſtaken Gentlemen, as to De⯑poſe 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 car⯑ried 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 re⯑markable in Scotland, if any Man wou'd ſee the Spirit [203] 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 Go⯑vernment, with an abſolute, and as they ſuppoſe ir⯑retrievable Victory, tho' 'tis poſſible, they may find themſelves Miſtaken: Now 'twou'd be a very proper Queſtion to ask their Impudent Advocate, the Obſerva⯑tor, Pray how much Mercy and Favour did the Mem⯑bers of the Epiſcopal Church find in Scotland, from the Scotch Presbyterian Government; and I ſhall un⯑dertake 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 Epiſco⯑pal 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 Per⯑ſons; 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 innu⯑merable, 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 Mem⯑bers ſit in our Houſe of Commons, and their Aſſem⯑bly of Scotch canting Long Cloaks in our Convocati⯑on, 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 them⯑ſelves.

[204] 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 diſ⯑owned the Right of Succeſſion, but they may retrieve it again, and if Scotland thinks to come off from a Suc⯑ceſſive 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 ri⯑diculous 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 con⯑tinue 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 Ar⯑tifices, to join with them, make their Party the great⯑ter; but thoſe will open their Eyes, when the Govern⯑ment 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 [205] cannot Suppreſs them, then it ought to be try'd whe⯑ther 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 E⯑nemy, 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 E⯑nemy? Will they go over to the Enemy, if we do not prevent it by a Union with them?—We are ve⯑ry 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 anſwer⯑able. 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 Whig⯑giſme, Faction, and Schiſm is melted down like the Old-Money.

[206] 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 im⯑placable 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 Pro⯑miſe 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 com⯑patible [207] 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, De⯑fend, 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.

[208] BUT, ſays another Hot and Cold Objector, this is re⯑newing 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 Bo⯑dy, 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 Sur⯑prize.

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 Man⯑ner, 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 un⯑der the ſpecious Pretences, and odious Senſe of Cru⯑elty, nothing will be effected: 'Twill be more Bar⯑barous 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 Cur⯑ſed 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, [209] and now our Church is Suppreſt and Perſecuted, our Reli⯑gion trampl'd under Foot, our Eſtates Plunder'd, our Per⯑ſons Impriſoned, and dragg'd to Jails, Gibbets and Scaf⯑folds; your ſparing this Amalekite Race is our Deſtructi⯑on, your Mercy to them proves Cruelty to your poor Po⯑ſterity.’

HOW juſt will ſuch Reflections be, when our Po⯑ſterity ſhall fall under the mercileſs Clntches of this uncharitable Generation, when our Church ſhall be ſwallow'd up in Schiſm, Faction, Enthuſiaſm, and Con⯑fuſion; when our Government ſhall be devolv'd up⯑on 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 thou⯑ſand of his dear Iſraelites, that were fallen into Idola⯑try; what was the reaſon? 'Twas Mercy to the reſt, to make theſe Examples, to prevent the Deſtructi⯑on 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 Glo⯑ry 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 Spi⯑rit of Martyrdom is over; they that will go to Church [210] to be choſen Sheriffs and Mayors, would go to forty Churches rather than be Hang'd.

If one ſevere Law were made, and punctually ex⯑ecuted, 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 Sa⯑crament, 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 a⯑gainſt the Peace and Welfare of the Nation, the Glo⯑ry of God, the Good of the Church, and the Happi⯑neſs 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, re⯑bel 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 Inſurrecti⯑ons, [211] if a few of the Ring-leaders ſuffer, the Multitude are diſmiſt, ſo a few obſtinate People being made Ex⯑amples, 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 exa⯑mine for what it is that this Nation is divided into Parties and Factions, and let us ſee how they can juſti⯑fie 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 An⯑ſwer to a Pamphlet, entituled, An Enquiry into the Oc⯑caſional 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 Diffe⯑rence between them is only in a few Modes and Acci⯑dents, why ſhould we expect that they will ſuffer Gal⯑lies, 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 ven⯑ture to tranſgreſs, and fall into the Pit, all the World muſt condemn their Obſtinacy, as being without ground from their own Principles.

[212] 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 Opportu⯑nity 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 u⯑niverſal 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 Parlia⯑ment, 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 im⯑poſſible: 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 Strang⯑ers to this Crown, and the Intereſts of the Nation; and how many Ages it may be before the Engliſh [213] 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 Inva⯑ded 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 Argu⯑ments have been made uſe of in vain.

THE Humour of the Diſſenters has ſo encreas'd a⯑mong the People, that they hold the Church in Defi⯑ance, 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 Wor⯑ſhippers of Baal; and account it a Sin to come with⯑in 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 Pro⯑feſſion of it, while the Generation are left at liberty daily to affront God Almighty, and diſhonour his Ho⯑ly 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 Fana⯑ticiſm, Error, and Obſtinacy, in the Bowels of the Na⯑tion; to leave them an Enemy in their Streets, that in time may involve them in the ſame Crimes, and en⯑danger [214] 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 En⯑thuſiaſt 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 Foundati⯑ons be Eſtabliſh'd upon the Deſtruction of Her Ene⯑mies: The Doors of Mercy being always open to the returning Part of the deluded People: Let the Ob⯑ſtinate 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.

[215]

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 Man⯑ner 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 Peo⯑ple are like to come under the Diſpleaſure of the Go⯑vernment for it, in Juſtice to thoſe who are in danger to ſuffer for it; in Humble ſubmiſſion to the Parlia⯑ment 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 De⯑ſign of the Paper, which he hopes may allay the An⯑ger 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 con⯑cern in the Publick Bills in Parliament, now depen⯑ding; or any other Proceedings of either Houſe, or of the Government relating to the Diſſenters, whoſe [216] Occaſional Conformity the Author has conſtantly op⯑poſed, 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 De⯑ſtruction 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 de⯑ſign'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.

[217] 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 Learn⯑ed 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 Man⯑kind 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 ſuf⯑fer 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 Coun⯑trey.

[218] As to Expreſſions which ſeem to reflect upon Per⯑ſons or Nations; he declares them to be only the Cant of the Nonjuring Party Expos'd, and thinks it very ne⯑ceſſary 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 percei⯑ved by all the Town, that not one man can ſee it, ei⯑ther 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 Occaſion⯑al Communion, Perſecution and Deſtruction was ne⯑ver in their intention, and that therefore they ha' no⯑thing 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 Par⯑don, 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.

[219]

Diſſen.

PRAY Sir, are you the Author of the Ob⯑ſervator?

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 Pa⯑pers 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 [220] ſome other Party, who now they find the World Ex⯑aſperated 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 Diſſen⯑ters 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 New⯑gate 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, [221] that tho the Church Men are Affronted, becauſe 'twas Written againſt them, and the Diſſenters are Affron⯑ted, 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 com⯑ing 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 [222] 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 Gen⯑tleman 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 Conſci⯑ence: But this is not ſerving God at all: beſides Sir, I could eaſily make it appear, this Act is for your Ad⯑vantage, 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 pla⯑ces and Parliaments, who tho' by this Act they are ſe⯑parated 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 ac⯑cepted 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 no⯑thing 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.

[223]

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 Fore⯑heads, 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 ac⯑knowledge it, which I readily did, and found a great many Names to the Paper, before me, and I think my [224] 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 con⯑ſequently, 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 Equi⯑valents.

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.

[225]

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 Govern⯑ment upon his Back already, and if they take him they'l avenge your Quarrel for you. Let him alone, 'tis In⯑generous, 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 Loy⯑alty.

Diſ.

Did he write that Book?

Obſ.

I told you I was no Informer, go ask Mr. Bel⯑lamy;

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 under⯑ſtand 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 [226] 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 Reformati⯑on 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 com⯑mon 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.

[227]

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 ſuffici⯑ently 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 Mo⯑ney by rapine or injuſtice, and oppreſſion of the Sub⯑ject, 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 Neigh⯑bours: I am a Subject, and am Cheated among the reſt.

Diſ.

You Cheated, why what have you to loſe?

Obſ.

[228]

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, particu⯑larly 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 Re⯑puted 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 Diſ⯑ſenters, 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 [229] 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 med⯑dle 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 ſe⯑veral 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, Tolera⯑tion 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, Char⯑nocks, 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 Cler⯑gy, 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 Mem⯑bers quit the Congregations, 'twill make poor work for the Miniſters, and they like other People Gene⯑rally do their Work beſt where they have beſt Wages.

Diſ.

[230]

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 Govern⯑ment 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 Alter⯑nate 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 Con⯑form, and upon occaſion I find he can, it makes me ſuſ⯑pect 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.

[231]

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 Perſecu⯑tion 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 Li⯑berty 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 Meet⯑ings 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 Con⯑ſcience 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 diffe⯑rent reaſons with you.

Diſ.

[232]

Pray, your reaſons?

Obſ.

Becauſe I am againſt (and ever ſhall be) Im⯑poſing 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 To⯑leration? 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 Anti⯑chriſtian, and threaten us with the having it over⯑thrown.

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 ne⯑ver ſuffer the QUEEN to be ſo affronted.

Diſſ.

I don't know how 'tis, ſuch things are ſuf⯑fer'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 Diſſen⯑ters to the Church, Longeſt way, or Sherreſt, 'twas all one to him; he ſaid he hop'd to ſee the Church [233] 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 Govern⯑ment 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 Par⯑liament in Scotland will reſtore Epiſcopacy there, and yet has not the Queen given Her word, and publiſh⯑ed it in our Gazett, that ſhe will maintain the Pres⯑byterian Government there.

Obſ.

Has ſhe ſo? Then tho' they have the impu⯑dence 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 Par⯑liament [234] 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 Bul⯑ly'd you with the fears of loſing your Toleration, come confeſs.

Diſſ.

Yes.

Obſ.

And made you diſtrrſt the QUEEN's Ve⯑racity.

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 Antichri⯑ſtian 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 Ig⯑noramus, tho' you heard 'twas Wrote by one of your own Party.

Diſ.

[235]

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 Opi⯑nion, and truly ſo have Two Thirds of your own Friends, for it looks as if they were Men of no Prin⯑ciples at all.

Againſt theſe Men the Act againſt Occaſional Confor⯑mity is principally deſign'd, and if there was nothing elſe in the Bill, I believe no good Man would be a⯑gainſt 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 Govern⯑ment 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 [236] Voices in Elections of Parliaments, in hopes of Ar⯑riving 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 Au⯑thorities, other than their Paſſions, without regard to good manners, taking no Notice of the Preamble of the Act of Parliament, which Declares againſt Perſe⯑cution, or the Honour and Sacred Promiſe of Her MAJESTY, given to make Her Subjects eaſie, they blow up the Fire of Perſecution and Deſtruction, whe⯑ther 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 Va⯑pours, this Cloud of Raillery ſo darken'd your Un⯑derſtanding, 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 [237] fit to diſown the Zeal of theſe High-flyers, by puniſh⯑ment, and make Examples of ſome of them?

Obſ.

I told you, the Diſſenters were all for Puniſh⯑ments 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 par⯑ties 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, with⯑out her Authority, to ſwagger you out of your Sen⯑ſes; therefore you muſt ſuppoſe her Promiſe broken, and her Word of no value.

The Author of the Shorteſt way comes with a Lan⯑thorn 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 ſhew⯑ed of the Book, you might learn that the deſtruction of our Party is a Cruelty not to be found in the Eng⯑liſh Nature.

[238] 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 Abridg⯑ment 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.

[239]

No, no, the Government may have Reaſons to be Angry that You nor I know not of, nor have no⯑thing 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 Prin⯑ciples 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 Meet⯑ing 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 Par⯑ty, 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 recei⯑ved more damage in your Intereſt as Diſſenters, and more weakned your Reputation as well as your Num⯑ber, 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.

[240]

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 ma⯑jor part of the Nation? And We (if you will give me leave to talk your way) We Proteſtants fear no⯑thing 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 Mo⯑ney, 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 Chil⯑dren 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 with⯑out being Guilty of Treaſon in the moſt intenſe degree.

[241] 'Tis the Solid Prop, upon which ſtands Her preſent Ma⯑jeſties Throne, and the right and juſt Title She has to Go⯑vern 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 ſup⯑poſe they wou'd be ſo underſtood.

Diſ.

So that you are of Opinion we are in no dan⯑ger 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 [242] 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 Deſtru⯑ctive 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 [243] 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 Religi⯑on, and the Intereſt of the Church, as the Stateſ⯑men 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 Mea⯑ſures laid for the Subjecting Europe to her Govern⯑ment 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 ban⯑iſh'd Vaudois, to fight under the Command of Prote⯑ſtant 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 them⯑ſelves, and their Subjects, againſt a too powerful In⯑vader, 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 back⯑ward to puſh on the Common Intereſt with their utmoſt Vigour, but have with extraordinary chear⯑fulneſs aſſiſted the Roman Catholick Confederates with their Armies, Fleets, and Moneys; witneſs the Subſidies paid to the Duke of Savoy, by the Engliſh [244] and Dutch; the Army maintain'd, under the Com⯑mand 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 Ca⯑tholick 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 ſpeak⯑ing, 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 Ex⯑peditions; 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 Prote⯑ſtants were Strong enough to Contend with their Go⯑vernours for their Liberty, is now wholly Roman, at leaſt ſeems to be ſo. But notwithſtanding that, I be⯑lieve 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.

[245] 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 Prote⯑ſtant Princes of Germany, who were then much Wea⯑ker 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 Trea⯑tiſe, to Conſider the Proportion of the Force of theſe [246] 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 ſe⯑parated from the Proteſtant Party, with the Swede, Dane, Brandenburghers, Saxons, and all the Prince of the Auguſtane Confeſſion on its Front, with the Pro⯑teſtants 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 Exa⯑mine 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 Ro⯑man 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 Eclip⯑ſes the Honour of its Concluſion on the Proteſtant ſide, and that is, that it left the Poor Proteſtant Sub⯑jects of the King of France, without any ſhelter from the Violences of their Perſecutors; as if the [247] Proteſtant Princes had ſo much excluded the Int'reſts of Religion from the Articles, that they had not one Compaſſionate Thought for their Diſtreſſed perſecu⯑ted Brethren. 'Tis true, the War was wholly a War of State, as is before noted, and the Invaſion of Pro⯑perty was the Occaſion of it; and therefore the Sur⯑render 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 Reſtora⯑tion of the Edict of Nants been inſiſted on with the ſame Vigour as the Dutchy of Lorrain, it wou'd as eaſi⯑ly 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 ta⯑ken 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.

[248] 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 fur⯑ther 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 Satis⯑faction 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, re⯑ſpecting 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 deſi⯑rous of any thing, than that the Peace be Firm and Inviola⯑ble, the ſaid King Promiſes and Agrees for Himſelf and His Succeſſors, That he will on no Account whatſoever di⯑ſturb 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 [249] the Faith, and Word of a King, that He will not give or Afford any Aſſiſtance, directly or indirectly, to any Ene⯑my or Enemies of the ſaid King of Great Britain; and that He will in no manner whatſoever favour the Conſpi⯑racies 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 what⯑ſoever, 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 like⯑wiſe 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 In⯑t'reſt of the King of France, to Ruine ſo many Thou⯑ſand 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 o⯑ther 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 Inſtan⯑ces 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 [250] 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 Sa⯑muels 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 Colle⯑ctive Bodies, Nations, Families, and States. Thus, in a War, the Subjects of either Party account is very ju⯑ſtifiable, 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 Pro⯑teſtant, 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 Per⯑ſonal.

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 Religi⯑on, [251] 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 cer⯑tain 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 Reli⯑gion 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 Catho⯑licks, 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 Domi⯑nion, 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 Ro⯑man 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 In⯑quiſition 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 Cha⯑rity of Neighbour States. The Duke of Savoy has Exil'd all his Proteſtant Vaudois: And hardly any Po⯑piſh [252] Country admit the Proteſtants among them, ſome few parts of Germany excepted, yet the Proteſtant-Governments, at the ſame time, ſuffer Three Milli⯑ons of Papiſts to live among them, and enjoy their Li⯑berties 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 Ca⯑tholick Subjects. The Duke of Savoy acknowledged it, in his Speech to thoſe Vaudois whom he had Relea⯑ſed 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 Un⯑dermined, 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 Delu⯑ged in Blood by their Rebellions and Cruelties. Two Kings of France have been Murthered by their Aſſaſſi⯑nations, and innumerable Proteſtants Maſſacred and Butcher'd in cold Blood, under the pretences of Friend⯑ſhip, and aſſurance of a Treaty.

The Reigns of all our Kings and Queens in Eng⯑land, ſince Henry VIII. have been ſtrangely diſturb'd by the Plots, the Treaſons and Rebellions of the Pa⯑piſts; they have often forfeited their Eſtates and Li⯑berties to the Publick Juſtice of the Nation, had they been dealt with by the Rules of ſtrict Retaliation. [253] 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 ve⯑ry Princes they refuſe to ſwear Allegiance to, and un⯑der the ſhelter of thoſe Laws they refuſe to be bound by. 'Tis no Plea in Bar of any Right, that the Plain⯑tiff 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 Nun⯑neries, 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 Peo⯑ple 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 Unkind⯑neſs 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 [254] 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 Intenti⯑ons, being come to Court, was acted the Maſſacre of Paris; at which, in the ſpace of Five Days, above Thirty Thouſand Proteſtants were barbarouſly Sur⯑prized 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 ſe⯑veral 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, eſ⯑pecially 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, under⯑took his Defence, and joining all their Forces, in or⯑der to Reſtore him, marched with him to the very Gates of Paris; where, while he was preparing for a [255] general Attack of the City, he was barbarouſly Aſſaſ⯑ſinated 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, op⯑pos'd him with all the vigour imaginable; and many of the Catholick Nobility deſerted him, on the Ac⯑count 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, ob⯑tain'd from him the famous Edict of Nantes; in which [256] is particularly ſtated and ſtipulated, the Terms of their Liberty, in what places they ſhould erect their Tem⯑ples, how they ſhould hold their Synods and Aſſem⯑blies: Money was allotted out of the publick Reve⯑nues, to maintain their Miniſters; Cities were allot⯑ted to them, for their Security, the Garriſons where⯑of 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 plea⯑ſure, 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 in⯑ſtrumental 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 Per⯑fidious 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, be⯑cauſe [257] 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 Sub⯑jects, for they are his Subjects by expreſs Stipulations and Agreements, whoſe Obedience to him has been al⯑ways 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 De⯑fend, 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 Hugo⯑nots, 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, ha⯑ving 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 Chriſti⯑anity, 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 re⯑member 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, [258] 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 Ex⯑claim againſt the French and Germans for their Vio⯑lence 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 Prote⯑ſtant Party in Europe aſunder, and conſidering them as two Collective Bodies divided in Intereſt and Religi⯑on, 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 De⯑predations 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 ſuſ⯑pended in Mercy to them hitherto, will abſolutely ju⯑ſtifie 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 Prote⯑ſtants 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 [259] Engliſh; and Oliver Cromwell was more than once con⯑ſulting 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 Thou⯑ſand 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 Hugo⯑not 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 Confe⯑deracy 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 Threat⯑en to Expel all the Roman Catholicks in Engiand, Scotland and Ireland, out of his Dominions. I remem⯑ber upon Diſcourſing of this paſſage in ſome Company [260] one asked, What if he had? and another by way of Re⯑partee, 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 Po⯑piſh 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 Hammer⯑ſmith.

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 King⯑dom. I beſhrew his Heart he did not.

I do not pretend to lead my Reader to any Politi⯑cal Reaſons why this ſhou'd be done now; our Go⯑vernours 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 [261] 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 Rea⯑ders to Conſider.

1. It might be a means, by the Interceſſion of Par⯑ties, to procure ſome reaſonable Conditions for the poor Proteſtants of France, as the Stopping the Mareſ⯑chal Boufflers at the Surrender of Namure procur'd Juſtice to the Impriſoned Garriſons of Deinſe and Dix⯑mude. 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 Diſtreſ⯑ſed Chriſtians, with the very Subſtance of their Ad⯑verſaries, 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 re⯑fuſe 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 [262] 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 or⯑der 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 Eng⯑land, 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 Arti⯑ſans, Manufacturers, it would be ſome detriment to our Poor who are employ'd in thoſe particular Manufa⯑ctures: 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 quan⯑tity of Corn and Fleſh for Food and Drink, and a pro⯑portioned 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 im⯑prove, [263] 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 em⯑ploy'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 Adverſa⯑ries. 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 Pro⯑teſtants among the Papiſts; and the Exile of the Par⯑ties 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 Tra⯑ding 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 when⯑ever the Proteſtant Princes of Europe ſhall find it need⯑ful 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 [264] 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 tho⯑rough your own Meaſures to attack a poor Prefacer, as [265] 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 Oppo⯑nent, but all the Town ſeem Diſappointed exceeding⯑ly, 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 or⯑dinarily, 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 Repu⯑tation, 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 Animad⯑vert upon my Superiors, for ſuch I own you to be both in Learning and Office,

[266] 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 Con⯑tempt 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, [267] 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 Scrib⯑lers, 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 Ac⯑count of my ſelf, and then my Name is at your Service.

Firſt, Sir, I am to tell you, that I am, and acknow⯑ledge 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 Argu⯑ment 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 valu⯑ed, 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 un⯑derſtand that thereby I was barr'd from Enquiring into what I judg'd Scandalous to the Profeſſion of a [268] 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 un⯑worthy 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 Particu⯑lars 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 Af⯑flictions 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 no⯑thing 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 Prin⯑ciples 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 Indepen⯑dent [269] about Kneeling at the Sacrament, and the Extra⯑vagant Fifth-Monarchy-man, about ſeizing the Proper⯑ties 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-Monar⯑chy-man, nor Leveller. You have ſhown your Lear⯑ning, 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 Of⯑fice 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 al⯑ready 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, how⯑ever cautious you wou'd have me be of judging others: But, Sir, Humanum eſt Errare; you are no more In⯑fallible, 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 [270] was to reflect upon a Worthy Gentlemen, who is nam'd in the Preface: And in one place you are plea⯑ſed 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 Tem⯑per, cou'd lead you into: And I can ſolemnly Ap⯑peal 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 Perſon⯑al 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 Con⯑currence 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 Thou⯑ſand 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.

[271] I come now to that part of your Book which re⯑ſpects 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 ſub⯑miſſion, there is very little Anſwer to the Fact: So it re⯑quires 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 De⯑fence will allow; and I am content to ſtand Correct⯑ed, 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 conſequent⯑ly your Unwillingneſs to engage in this.

Truly, Sir, as to the Firſt, I thought a publick Ap⯑peal 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 peo⯑ple more prejudice againſt the Integrity of Diſſen⯑ters in general, than I cou'd wiſh to have found; up⯑on [272] which I thought it neceſſary to have the Matter diſcuſs'd, if poſſible; and knew no Man more concern⯑ed 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 con⯑feſs, 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 Profeſ⯑ſion as a Goſpel Miniſter, I ſhall not examine: Whe⯑ther you that are Paſtor of a Diſſenting Church, and Adminiſter the Ordinances of Chriſt to a Select Peo⯑ple, 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 Intro⯑ductory to what follows, you are pleas'd to proceed very angrily to examine why I engage you in this Quar⯑rel: 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.) [273] 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 Er⯑ror when I am better inform'd.

The next thing will come cloſe to the Point, Whe⯑ther 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 Sepa⯑rate Church?

That it is not a ſinful Act ſimply to have Commu⯑nion with the Eſtabliſh'd Church, I willingly agree. But ſince on this Point depends the Weight of our pre⯑ſent Diſpute, I muſt conclude, That I think 'tis a ſin⯑ful 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 En⯑quiry, Page 12.

[274] 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 Con⯑ſcience to Diſſent, how can I Conform without Sin⯑ning againſt that Conſcience, by which only my Diſ⯑ſenting 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, ex⯑cept 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 guil⯑ty; 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 Contro⯑verſy about Ceremonies: And give me leave to add, That ſuch is the Subtilty and Nicety of Sophiſtical Reaſonings, that Men may almoſt Diſtinguiſh them⯑ſelves [275] into, and out of any Opinion; and ſome Peo⯑ple, 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 ma⯑king ſo large a Chaſm in the Church; we have much to anſwer for, without queſtion, in the too fatal Di⯑viſions 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 Conſci⯑ence, which only could juſtify the firſt inſiſting on them: If you can Diſtinguiſh us into this, I am miſ⯑taken.

I allow your Diſtinctions of Sins, which are Conſi⯑ſtent or Inconſiſtent with the Chriſtian State to be Orthodox and Right.

I allow your Diſtinctions of Negative and Affirma⯑tive Precepts, and, according to my weak Talent, a⯑gree 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.

[276] 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 Differ⯑ence between Us and the Eſtabliſh'd Church be on⯑ly 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 Epiſco⯑pal
Clarkſon's No Scripture-Evidence for Dioceſan Biſhops.
Hierarchy, Prelatical Or⯑dination 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 won⯑der 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 Ar⯑gument, take no notice of the thing it ſelf, as it is Ob⯑jected, [277] but Diſtinguiſh ſo nicely about the ſmaller mat⯑ters, 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 Diſtincti⯑ons, 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, Diſcern⯑ing; 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 Ig⯑norance.

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 Commu⯑nion 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? [278] 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; Whe⯑ther 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 Pre⯑ferment, 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 volunta⯑rily. 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 Underſtand⯑ing [279] 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 can⯑not be ſuppoſed to do ſo without a manifeſt groſs ig⯑norance, 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 man⯑ner of Error; for no Man is guilty of an Error, as an Error, but as his Judgment may be perverted to be⯑lieve 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 Or⯑der ſake) do it always?

Sir, if you pleaſe to give me leave to ask Queſti⯑ons for my ſelf, I wou'd ſtate it ſomething more fair⯑ly to the Caſe in hand, thus: Since, Sir, you think it not Unlawful to Communicate with ſuch a Church ſome⯑times, 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 Pre⯑ferment 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 [280] 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 an⯑ſwer 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 Sa⯑crament, or the Uſe of a Liturgy, were all the Diſ⯑pute; 'tis you have led me into ſaying any thing of the Difference between the National Church and the Diſſenters.

I know that the [...] of the Primitive Church included the Forms of their Adminiſtrations and Pub⯑lick 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 Perſecuti⯑on 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 Sophi⯑ſtry [281] 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 Rea⯑ſon, 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 Prefer⯑ment; 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 hun⯑dred 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 Infor⯑mation, therefore, Sir, I refer you to p. 19. in the En⯑quiry, 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 Judg⯑ment 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 pra⯑ctiſed, 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, [282] nor can you without a Breach of Charity ſuggeſt it of me.

Nor do I any-where ſay that others have acted a⯑gainſt 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 In⯑tereſt puts upon it.

But ſince you will have it be this Gentlemans pra⯑ctice, which I think no Reputation to him, nor De⯑fence 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 a⯑gainſt 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 Circum⯑ſtances of Turn and Return, timed for Preferment, with all the black Et cetera's of it, as 'tis lately pra⯑ctic'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 Con⯑gregation, 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.

[283] Thus, Sir, I have ſaid what I thought my ſelf ob⯑lig'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 Tem⯑per 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 ano⯑ther 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 pur⯑poſe; nay, let them not put ſuch a Reproach in the Mouths of their Enemies, as to have it ſpoken in Con⯑tempt, with Circumſtances that ſtop the Mouths of Ar⯑gument, and are as Convincing as Demonſtration.

You have given your Bleſſing to them at the Conclu⯑ſion 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 cer⯑tainly were the great Chriſtian Rule conſulted, it wou'd inſtruct them, that the Profeſſion of the Chri⯑ſtian Religion is not a thing, the Forms whereof are [284] 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? Whe⯑ther I am an Independent? I hope they are Chriſtians too as well as other folks. Whether I am a Fifth-Monar⯑chy-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 Prefer⯑ment, 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 tranſ⯑ported 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 re⯑preſent the Primitive Engliſh Puritans, as if they were generally of my ſtingy, narrow Spirit.

[285] And here you run upon me with ill Language, How I could think to Impoſe upon the World in a matter of ſo re⯑cent 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 Re⯑formation, and recited the Controverſie between Bi⯑ſhop 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, ob⯑tained 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 ſuffici⯑ent Authority to prove genuine, from a Manuſcript of a famous Man in thoſe days, which I have ſeen, and [286] 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 Reflecti⯑on on them in it.

But this is not the only thing in which you are plea⯑ſed 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 Bo⯑peep 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 ſin⯑leſly do in order to it, do treſpaſs upon their Conſciences, and D [...] their Souls to ſave their Countries.

[287] 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 Eng⯑land, 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 Re⯑ligion which is the Mode of the Country: which muſt rather mean the Church of England than the Diſſen⯑ters: 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 on⯑ly as a Civil Action; on which I made ſuch Remarks as, I think, ſo prophane a Practice deſerv'd; and at [288] 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 a⯑gainſt 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 reck⯑on 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 Rail⯑ing, and Differ without Quarrelling; and that Opi⯑nions 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.

D. F.

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.

[289] 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.

AN Explanatory Preface.

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.

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.