A DIALOGUE between Sophronius and Philobelgus, The Second PART.

Phil.

WEll met, Sophronius! Where have you been lurking these [...]wo long Years, and upwards?

Soph.

I have been to take care of my Concerns in Ʋtopia, and (as it happened) [...]o transfer my Effects from thence.

Phil.

When I last parted with you, I [...]emember you raised a Discourse con­cerning that Place, which hath run in my Head ever since, and made me ex­tremely desirous to see you again.

Soph.

Then I hope you have consider­ed of that Discourse, as I desired you.

Phil.

Considered, say you? I think it is high time for us all to consider, if it be not too late to consider: Things are here at a strange pass, I wish I could say, not in a desperate condition. But pray what made you leave Ʋtopia at this time? I have heard that place highly commended.

Soph.

Indeed I have known the time I could have commended it as much as any Man; the Soil pleasant and fruitfull; the People just, hospitable, and generous; the Courts of Judicature honourable for Justice, and nothing wanting to make Life comfortable: But now all things are turned topsy turvy, and it's nothing like the place it was.

Phil.

Why? Pray what's the Matter? Sure they can never be so mad in any other place, as with us.

Soph.

How Matters are with you I yet know not; but some years since none there would have thought such a Change possible. The very Earth seems to mourn; there is neither Truth nor Honesty a­mongst the Inhabitants; no Promises or Oaths can bind them; you go in most danger from your bosome Friend; all Persons are jealous of each other; and the greatest part with all their Might and Main are pulling Destruction on their own and all others Heads, and are fond of it; and (which seems to make the Matter remediless) a shameless Ʋsurper and Foreigner is made their King, who hates them, and can never be safe but in their Ruine, or Slavery at least.

Phil.

This is bad indeed; but I war­rant you think you have mended the matter with coming over hither.

Soph.

I hope so; for certainly a Man cannot find out a worse place than that is now.

Phil.

I will not be your Security for that. I rather fear that by that time you have been here some while, you will think you have leap'd out of the Frying­pan into the Fire.

Soph.

God forbid! But pray, Sir, in­form me a little how Matters go with you here.

Phil.

That is needless; for a little Conversation will soon inform you of the state of our Affairs, better than any Re­lation can do: But in the mean time let me advise you to keep a close pair of Chops; not to trust either your Father, or your Child; look well to your hits, and in a short time you will see Reason for this Advice, and a great deal more.

Soph.

God defend me! What a mad World is this, when a Man knows not where to go to live safely or honestly! But, good Sir, explain; for I am all on [Page 2]fire to know what new World I am come into, though it be my own Countrey.

Phil.

No, no; you will hear and see it every day; you may learn it from every Fool, but beware of Information from a Knave. Besides, the Story you were telling of Ʋtopia hath been hitherto so like it, that I begin to grow suspitious, that the Progress of your Tale will pre­vent me and every body else.

Soph.

But you ought to be so civil to a Stranger, as to grant his Request in the first place.

Phil.

I am not uncivil, nor would you be pleased that I should grant it; for you know it is the Prerogative of Travellers to have all the Talk, and the Curiosity of others makes them impatient, till they are gratified with the Stories of their foreign Observations; therefore in short I am resolved I will have it out of you: But since in your former Discourse you told me much of the Revolutions in Ʋtopia, which seemed to you to be as im­pious and unjust, as they were strange and wonderfull; before you proceed I would intreat you to discover (what you can) the Springs and Causes of that Re­volution.

Soph.

Well, since you are resolved, I think it will be most for my Ease to sa­tisfie you as speedily as I can: But you put a hard task upon me; for the Cause of such a prodigious turn of Affairs lay deep under Ground; and there are ma­ny which Time hath not yet brought to light.

Phil.

Do not think I would put such an unconscionable Task upon you, as to require more than you know, or can with fair probability conjecture.

Soph.

Well; since you are become pretty reasonable, take what Account I can give you thus. Benignus, King of Ʋtopia, was well beloved by his People, (except it were by a brood of Republicans, who of late much infest that Kingdom, and love no Kings,) and indeed he was a Man of admirable Parts, vast Experi­ence, but given to his Ease, and by all means avoided the Fatigue of Business, though no Man did it better, nor more dexterously, when he would look to­wards it: But he dying suddenly, and without any legitimate Issue, left all his Dominions to his Brother Constantius. There never were a pair of more loving Brothers, though of strangely different Tempers; for Constantius as much gave his mind to Business, as his Brother had done to decline it; a better husband with the Revenues never sat upon the Throne, a Lover of Justice, punctual to his Word, ambitious to advance the Honour and In­terest of his Kingdoms, and in short a Prince endowed with all Royal Qualifi­cations, and seemed born for Govern­ment; so that for some time all Persons were as big with Expectations from him, as from any Person who ever came to the Crown.

Phil.

You amaze me: How could such a Prince miscarry?

Soph.

One would not think it could be easily; but they have a Saying in Ʋtopia, That one Drachin of Colloquintida spoils the whole Pot of Pottage. There had been in his Father's time the most unnatural Re­bellion that ever the world knew, where­in the best of Kings was barbarously mur­thered by his own Subjects, and Constan­tius, then very young, to preserve his Life was conveyed into a neighbouring Kingdom, where of course, and unavoi­dably he was instructed and brought up in the Religion of that Nation, which was irreconcilable with the Religion established in Ʋtopia, and indeed hatefull to the ge­nerality of all Persons in all the Domini­ons belonging to it; but being early im­bibed, and having taken root with time, he was as tender of his Conscience, as jea­lous [Page 3]of his Honor; and when he came to to the Throne would not change his Re­ligion, though so hatefull to his People.

Phil.

What then? So far as I can ga­ther by the circumstances of your Story, though that was his Misfortune, yet it was his Peoples Fault; and could it seem reasonable to depose him for his Consci­ence, and their own Crime?

Soph.

I am glad to hear you talk so much like a Christian, whose Principles at our last Meeting you seemed either to have forgotten, or never well learn'd: But though his Religion gave too advan­tagious an opportunity to Knaves, and their Instruments, weak Men, to under­mine him; yet that alone had never done it, had not other fatal Circumstances concurred; and therefore I must intreat your Patience whilst I relate them, till I can bring them to this again.

Phil.

I am willing to have Patience; but I must confess I devour your Story with so much Greediness, that some would call it Impatience.

Soph.

Pray contain your self what you can, and I will be as short as I can, tho' shorter than the Nature of the Thing will well bear.

Phil.

Pray, Sir, go on.

Soph.

Well; then you must know that the unfortunate but brave Constantius had two Wives, the latter at this time bea­ring her share in his Afflictions, the other was an Ʋtopian Subject, and by her he had two Daughters, Astorge and Placi­dia; and these being so near of kin to a Crown that could have mated any, if not all the Princes in that Quarter of the World, had been Matches for the grea­test Princes whatsoever, but that both their Uncle Benignus, and their Father Constantius, seem'd likely enough to have other Children. But whilst these things were doubtfull, by the kindness of their Uncle Benignus they were both married, Astorge to Philotimus, Prince of Angero, and Placidia to Gregorio, Prince of Nadia.

Phil.

It seems then that Philotimus had the Honour to marry the eldest; pray what was he?

Soph.

Your Question is not imperti­nent, for on him depends the greatest part of our Story: He had little to re­commend him to that Match, save that he was the next Relation of the Family; for his Territories, from whence he de­rived his Title, were in the Possession of another Prince, his other Possessions were not very considerable; he was indeed by far the greatest and most powerful Sub­ject of the Gallimaufrians, and was with-all a Man of boundless Ambition, barba­rous Cruelty, implacable Malice, perni­cious Contrivance, and (which you will say is a Riddle, tho' the poor Ʋtopians at this time find it true by Experience) a Person both insatiably covetous, and prodigiously profuse.

Phil.

You do not give the kindest Cha­racter of him that ever I heard: But pray what are those Gallimaufrians, a­mong whom you said he was the most powerful Subject?

Soph.

Truly they are every thing, any thing, whatever is for their advantage.

Phil.

Hey day! I am never the wiser for this: Pray give me such a Description as may at least give me some little under­standing of them.

Soph.

Why then you must understand, that these Gallimaufrians were Subjects to the Predecessors of Pauperantius, King of Thinland, and pretending Breach of Privileges, by that (which some are un­willing to call Rebellion) cast off the Yoke, abjured their Master, and form'd themselves into a popular State; which is not one entire thing, but several States, or petty Republicks, like Sampson's Foxes tied Tail to Tail, and firmly united by Necessity and Iniquity.

Phil.

And odd sort of Government; and yet methinks it looks like that of a People cross the Water, for whom not long since I had no small kindness, and can scarce forget it yet.

Soph.

It may be so; but to proceed: These Gallimaufrians in all their Distresses were relieved and upheld by the inconsi­derate Ʋtopians, till in the end by Industry and Knavery they arrived to that height as to become their Competitors, and are now in a manner their Masters. Without Trade the Ʋtopians cannot live well, but the Gallimaufrians without it cannot live at all; and the Ʋtopians having Advan­tages enough (if they had either Wit or Courage to use them) to keep them un­der, the Gallimaufrians, who are suffici­ently sensible of it, are for that very rea­son, both by Interest and Inclination, their eternal Enemies, and as well in Peace as War, are ever labouring to sup­plant them; for nothing binds them but their Interest. Religions they have of all sorts among them; but 'tis believ'd they are of none; for it is never suffered to stand in the way of their Profit: And yet they have this Advantage; let them do what Mischief they will, you can ne­ver fasten it on the whole Herd, many of which will pretend either Ignorance or Opposition to it, though they will certain­ly take the benefit of it: But as for par­ticular sets of Rogues among them, they will commonly shuffle it to and fro, till they have lost it.

Phil.

Certainly, Sophronius, you are romancing; for I cannot think there are such a People on Earth, at least they de­serve not: But pray pass to something else, I desire to hear no more of them.

Soph.

You must not hear my Story then; but to humour your queamish Sto­mach at present, I'll leave them a while, and return to Philotimus, who having (as I told you) married Astorge, he was con­tinually buoy'd up by Benignus and Con­stantius, and by the help of his own Arts, added to their Favour and Assistence, he soon arrived to that Interest and Power amongst the Gallimaufrians, as to procure two of greatest Eminency among them, of whom he was jealous, to be torn in pieces, in a more barbarous manner than can well be related; after which, not­withstanding his Protestations and Oaths to the contrary, he had, in a manner, swallowed up their Freedom, and be­come their Master: But his Ambition not stopping there, he at the same time plaid Tricks with Benignus and Constan­tius, (who too much favoured him,) by cherishing Factions in Ʋtopia, and encoura­ging ill and false Representations of his Un­cle and Father-in-law among the Subjects of that Kingdom, which he did hope in time might work those wicked Ends he hath since obtained.

Phil.

You tell a strange and wonderful Story; but could not People see through such palpable ill Artifices?

Soph.

Some few did, and some could not; but none so blind as they that would not see: For such Reports seem­ing to make for the Designs of Discon­tents and Republicans, they against their own Consciences vouched them, and in­dustriously spread them: But all this prevailed little, till the fatal Scene of Affairs opened, wherein all things con­curred to effect the Ruine of the unfortu­nate Constantius.

Phil.

Oh! pray let me know what that could be, and be as short as you can; for I am variously▪ affected with your Story, greedy to hear it, and grieved at the Villany of it.

Soph.

I am affraid I shall seem tedious, though I lose the greatest part of the Story. To use then all possible brevity, know that Constantius coming to the Crown with all Advantages imaginable, [Page 5]another Blessing befell him, which might have crowned all the rest, had a right Use been made of it; his Queen Toleran­tia was delivered of a Son, the onely thing the Ʋtopians could have wish'd to have made them happy; for thereby they were not onely secured from the Reign of Foreigners, who neither under­stood their Constitutions, nor could have that kindness for them as a natural born Prince of their own; but his Education being granted to them, their Religion (which they have in a manner lost for fear of losing it) would have been secur'd, and the Interest both of Prince and People would have been the same. This Philoti­mus knew, and seemed to carry all fair, whilst his Blood boiled within him; and never was Tyger robbed of her Whelps in a more furious Rage, than he to see himself thus cut off from the hopes of a Crown, which he had already devoured in his Thoughts: And now underhand he sets all his Pioniers at work to under­mine his Father and Brother, when on a sudden Circumstances on all hands hap­pened to farther his Designs, even be­yond his hopes: For about that time Magnanimus, K. of Slavandria, a Prince of large Dominions, vast Treasure and Revenues, undaunted Courage, strong Judgment, and indefatigable Industry, at once makes War both upon Perplexus, Emperor of Regomania, and Pauperantius, K. of Thinland, and several other petty Princes, whom I will not trouble you to name.

Phil.

But how affects this Constantius?

Soph.

Have patience, and you shall presently perceive it. Almost all the neighbouring Princes enter into a Confe­deracy to oppose Magnanimus, and break his formidable Power and Strength; and to this End they had all cast their Eyes upon Constantius, as the onely Prince who was able to turn the Balance, and put a stop to the Proceedings of that might▪ Monarch; nor did they guess amiss.

Phil.

Well; and would he not under­take this?

Soph.

No; and he was much in the right of it.

Phil.

How so?

Soph.

Why, he was in perfect Peace with all his Neighbours; and it seemed unjust to him to make a breach upon Magnanimus, who not only gave him no Cause, but courted his Friendship. He had also other strong Inducements; for he thought it imprudent unnecessarily to engage in a War, wherein he might ha­zard much, but could gain little: Be­sides, by preserving a Neutrality, the greatest part of the Trade of the World must of course have faln into Ʋtopia, which would have prodigiously enriched his Kingdoms and People, and much en­creased his own Revenues; and by this means being plentifully stored with Men, Money, Shipping, and Ammunition, and all things requisite for War, in case Magnanimus had gone on too successfully, he could with more Honor and Advan­tage have put a stop to his Proceedings, when Necessity seemed to require it.

Phil.

I cannot see but that this was wisely enough projected.

Soph.

Truly I think so too; but there were other Failures spoiled all: For the confederated Princes seeing they should be disappointed of his Assistance, that they might by any means gain Ʋtopia to their side, conspire with the discontented Phi­lotimus to raise him to the Throne, and depose his Father. And it is there con­fidently reported, that even the Mufti of Lavinia, whose Religion Constantius had espoused to the extreme Distaste of his Subjects, was at the bottom of this Plot against him.

Phil.

This seems to be a most hellish Design; but how could they effect it?

Soph.

Why, truly neither their Tricks nor their Force had been able to move him, had not he himself unfortunately made the Work too easie, by losing the Hearts of his Subjects, which was thus: He manifested a strong Zeal for the Muf­taean Religion, to which his Subjects were bitter Enemies, upon which account they grew extremely jealous of his Resoluti­on; and to help this forward, whereas his Brother toward the latter end of his Reign had overcome great Difficulties, and left the Kingdom in a kindly Dispo­sal towards an entire Uniting, both in Religion and Interest, Constantius unhap­pily unravels all, and lets the whole Herd loose, without any Order or Keepers, who in the end to requite his kindness turn upon himself; which shews how dangerous a thing it is, either quieta mo­vere, or to lay the Reins on their Necks, who can neither govern themselves, nor are willing to be governed by others. But it was not the least Evil that befell him, that the Escopaean Party, who had all along been the most faithfull Subjects to him, and all his Predecessors, and whose Religion was established by the Laws of Ʋtopia, were utterly averse to these Proceedings: But to bring them to his Bow, he imprisons several of the E­scops themselves; and it was wonderfull to see how Crowds of People, who at other times could not afford them a good Word, were ready to adore them as pet­ty gods, when going to Prison; so rea­dy were that giddy People to take all ad­vantages to reproach their Sovereign: And still to encrease the Discontents he displaced the ablest Ministers of State, and many considerable Officers in the Army, who would not comply with his Desires, and entertain'd others that were nothing acceptable to his Subjects. And though there were many good and able Men about him, yet he was chiefly led by them whom he favoured for their Reli­gion, who for the greatest part were Persons that had neither Interest nor Ho­nesty, neither understood the state of the Kingdom, nor had Brains to manage it, but were wholly bent to compass their own Ends, though to the manifest ha­zard of his and their own utter Ruine.

Phil.

Foolish and ingrateful Wretches! But do you think that he design'd to have establisht their way.

Soph.

No. Beside, I think it impossi­ble for him to have done it; and so it appeared, the Point being plainly gain'd against them, even while he sat on the Throne. Some particular Favour I am apt to think he design'd those of his own Way, but his real Design I believe was Liberty to all; partly in Tenderness, partly in hope of Inviting in all sorts of Persons to encrease Trade: But he took his Aim amiss; for the generality of the People looking on it as a Design to intro­duce Muftaeanism▪ and being continually instigated by Persons engag'd in the Plot, who perpetually affrighted them with most dreadfull Representations of it, though he at last did all he could to un­deceive them, yet they would never be­lieve him; which was the principal thing that cost him his Crown, and had like to have cost him his Life.

Phil.

A dolefull Story! But were all Men affrighted, both out of their Hone­sty and Understanding? Did the Escopae­ans▪ who you say had been always loyal, forsake him?

Soph.

No. Many honest Men stood in a Maze, and utterly at a loss; and by reason of a Jealousie or Defection in all parts, the Revolution coming on like a Whirlwind, those who were most desi­rous, were not able to afford him any considerable Assistence: As for the Esco­paeans, those who were truly such, were firmly loyal to him, and still continue so, [Page 7]and many of them have lost their Estates on that account; and when I lately left Ʋtopia, they were the only harassed and persecuted People there, even the hated Muftaeans themselves being infinitely bet­ter used. But to be plain with you, the former Troubles in Ʋtopia had spawn'd a mongrel Brood of Shifters, which some called Latitudinarians; a sort of Men of whom you would think that Butter would not melt in their Mouths, and yet Cheese will not choak them; these crowded in among the Escopaeans, when restored, and having possessed themselves of Places of Trust, and the best Preferments, they kept a watchfull Eye over all the loyal Escopaeans, to keep them at an under; and those that were above them they de­luded by their dissembling Arts, till by letting in only Men of their own Way, and debauching the Understandings of o­thers, they had in a manner corrupted the whole Ʋtopian Church; and these and their whole Gang, even when they might have stemm'd the Tide, in the plain field forsook their King, and all the loyal Esco­paean Principles, and presently declared for the Worship of the rising Sun; and now having got all into their hands, they impudently in their Pulpits preach away God's Commandments, and be­spatter and persecute every thing that is good or honest.

Phil.

Shameless Villains! May divine Vengeance overtake them. But yet you do not tell me the Fall of that unfortu­nate Prince.

Soph.

I am just now come to that dis­mal Scene, which would make even an Heart of Stone to ake, that had any Re­mains of Honesty or Pity in it. Whilst the Nation through the Miscarriages of some, and the Wickedness of others, was thus working into the highest Ferment, so that nothing moderate could be ex­pected, Philotimus was not idle, but plied his opportunity with all advantage, and with him combine vast numbers even of the most considerable Persons in the Kingdom, who were either enraged with Discontents and Disappointments, or possessed with Jealousies and Fears; so that Philotimus was got into the very Councils of Constantius: The most power­ful Officers of his own Army (than which none were ever paid better, nor more kindly used,) were in the Plot against him; and those whom he had raised from nothing to great Dignities, those whom he took to be his fastest Friends, those who protested, promised, vowed, and made shew of the greatest Fidelity to him, were at that very time contriving and impatient to betray him. As soon as things were brought to this pass, Philoti­mus takes the Nick of Time, and being assisted by the faithless Gallimaufrians with a large Fleet, and some Land-forces on Board, sets sail for Ʋtopia.

Phil.

But had Constantius no Fleet to oppose them.

Soph.

Yes, a sufficient one to have made the young Spark dearly repent his Attempt, if the Men had behaved them­selves like true Ʋtopians; but partly by Miscarriage, partly by a Conspiracy of the Officers against the Admiral (who was honest) to throw him over-board if he offered to sight, nothing was done; so that Philotimus safely landed in the oc­cidental parts of Ʋtopia, but with such a par [...]el or Tatterdemallions, such Foot as were sitter to make Scare-crows for Gar­diners, than Soldiers for a Prince; and such Horse as were not much better than Ʋtopian Asses; so that Constantius's own Guard were able to have trampled them to death, without ever drawing Sword; and the Inhabitants of any Comt ( i.e. a division much answerable to your Shires) in Ʋtopia might have knockt them o'th Head with Stones.

Phil.

God forgive me! You represent this Philotimus as a kind of a fool-hardy Fellow: What! Had not Constantius enough to quell these?

Soph.

Yes; and those who would have done it presently, if he could have known honest Men and Knaves asunder, and not trusted most to the most faithless. But you mistake the Matter as I am apt to think, that as things then were, and Matters were then managed, if he had not brought over with him an hundred Men, it had been the same thing; for with the first opportunity most of the great Officers of Constantius's Army go over to Philotimus, and carry with them as good Forces as any the World had, till being in a manner quite forsaken, he was forced to retire to his Metropoliti­cal City; but finding there no Succour, he first sent away his Queen and the young Prince, and after a small time, being throughly assured by his own and his Ambassadour's ill Usage, and the rough Treatment of all his Friends, that no less than the Crown would satisfie his good Son-in-law, notwithstanding all his false Protestations and Declarati­ons to the contrary, he endeavoured to convey himself away, as being sensible, that they would not long endure him to live to their Reproach, whom they had deprived of all things but Life.

Phil.

He that usurps a King's Throne, is obliged to take away his Life to secure his own, which can never be safe whilst the lawfull Prince survives, to whom some time or other the Hearts of the Subjects most certainly return; But is it possible that he got out of their hands?

Soph.

He did at last, but after so ma­ny Difficulties, Dangers, and ill Usage, that I look upon his Escape as little less than miraculous, and a good Presage of his Return.

Phil.

Pray how was it?

Soph.

In short thus: His first Attempt was frustrated, he being taken at Sea by his own Subjects, and brought back a Prisoner on shoar to a Port called Febri­vill, where the rude Seamen were his Guards, puffing stinking Tobacco in his Face, (which he extremely hated.) And the coming in of the Gentry did not much mend the Matter, for they rather encouraged than checked their Incivili­ties, especially two of the Equestrian Or­der, Bovinian and Benedict; the one a proud, stately, political Coxcomb, who over-ruled and ordered all things; the other a busie active Tool, made use of to abuse the King in all things; and whilst these gave him up to his Enemies, and suffered not his Friends to come at him, it wanted but little that his Brains were not knock'd out: But being relieved out the hands of these Rascallionee, he re­turned to his Metropolis, where being re­ceived with all joy and kindness imagi­nable, it so allarmed Philotimus, that he forbad his stay there; so retiring to a small City, under a Guard of Gallimau­frians, before a cleanly Contrivance to take away his Life could be invented, by the help of two Friends he made a very dangerous and yet fortunate Escape into the Country of Magnanimus, where he, his Queen, and his Son were kindly received; and there they were when I came from Ʋtopia. One thing there is which ought not to be forgotten; under all these Troubles, and barbarous Indigni­ties, such was the admirable Patience and Evenness of Temper of the forsaken Con­stantius, that you cannot believe it, un­less your Eyes had seen and your Ears heard it.

Phil.

Who would much value any thing in this World, when he sees so great a Prince so quickly and easily redu­ced to Nothing?

Soph.

I forgot to tell you the horrid palpable Lies, which helped forward this great turn of Affairs; and indeed I am ashamed to repeat them: As how the young Prince was confidently repor­ted (notwithstanding never any Child's Birth was more clearly proved) to be an Impostor, and that Philotimus had brought the true Mother along with him; how the People were allarmed in all parts of the Land at once, that the Ieronians were coming to cut their Throats, who were a handfull of Men in dread of their Lives, and not able to defend them; how Rumors prevailed, that the Muftae­an Religion was to be introduced by Fire, Fagot, and barbarous Massacres, and a thousand other Stories, the Impossibility of which were enough to convince any understanding Man of their Falshood, but that the Ʋtopians under such Ferments are a People who greedily swallow the most fulsome palpable Lies that can be invented.

Phil.

Well; now I suppose that Phi­lotimus has gained his Ends.

Soph.

Not so easily as you imagine; for there were three before him, who by the Constitutions of Ʋtopia (though ( Con­stantius had been slain) were to succeed in their turns, of whom one was his own Wise Astorge, though not the first; when this was debated, the Friends of Constan­tius began a little to hope and work; but finding it impossible at that time to doe any thing for him directly, they moved for a Regency, which took with many, as most plausible and moderate course: Now though I think a Regency is allow­ed by the Laws of Ʋtopia, only in case of some natural Incapacity, as Infancy, Lunacy, Dotage, &c. yet their Design was well and wisely laid in such an un­governable Confusion; for their Aim was thereby partly to keep up the Name and Authority of Constantius, and shackle Philotimus, by making him accountable; partly that they might gain time to let the Ferment settle, and the People re­turn to their Wits, not doubting but that then an useless and chargeable Regency would soon be laid aside; so by this means they hoped both to restore their King, and also to preserve their Consti­tutions; but Philotimus, either by the help of those about him, or by his own malitious Sagaciousness, smelt out the honest Plot, and with Indignation re­jected the Offer: So when nothing else would serve his turn, the Rabble grow­ing impatient; and the Endeavours of all honest Men baffled, Astorge for fashion sake was named with him, and both (forsooth) triumphantly crowned King and Queen, contrary to all the known Constitutions of the Kingdom; but the Invalidity and Nullity of such Proceedings you and I discoursed at our last Meeting, and the Reasons then given are every whit as firm for the Ʋtopian Constitution, as our own; and therefore I shall not enter again upon that Discourse.

Phil.

But could his Daughter be easily brought to it, not only to consent to the driving away her Father but in Person to enter upon his Throne?

Soph.

Those are week Arguments in­deed, which will not persuade an ill Per­son to accept a Crown, though none of his own. There were some that drea­med better things of her, but she was so far from expressing any Duty to her Fa­ther, (though perhaps it was in her power to have recalled and restored him,) that she kept and managed the Kingdom of Ʋtopia, whilst Philotimus drove him out of another; for you must know, that the King of Ʋtopia hath two other Crowns, as being also King of Ca­ledonia and Fernia. Soon after that Phi­lotimus [Page 10]had trickt him out of Ʋtopia, the Hyperephanians betrayed Caledonia, upon Promise that their Dagon, the Kuriack Government, (as they call it,) should be settled. But still one Kingdom was left to Constantius, to which he repaired; but Philotimus had the Impudence to pretend that to be an Appurtenance to his other Booty, and that having robbed him of the principal Kingdom, he ought to give up the other as an Appendix to it; and accordingly in good earnest sent an Ar­my against him, and afterwards went himself; and the Ieronians being poor, and for some Ages being accustomed to the Yoke of the Ʋtopians, they did not well quit themselves; and so partly by Arms, partly by Money, were too soon reduced, and the just Constantius dispos­sessed of all.

Phil.

Well; but pray what were the Effects of this brave Feat? Did the Ʋto­pians much mend themselves; or did the Confederated Princes take Magnanimus a Pin lower?

Soph.

It did give Magnanimus some Trouble; but Ʋtopia is not able to doe that under a green Ʋsurper, which it can do under a lawfull and settled King. But all those Difficulties Magnanimus broke through, got ground on them all, and is now arrived to that Strength, that when I left Ʋtopia, the People there began to talk, that if the combin'd Princes did not doe something very considerable a­gainst the next Summer, he would either constrain Constantius's Subjects to recall him home, or restore him whether they would or not.

Phil.

Why, by this I guess, that the Ʋtopians have been no great Gainers by the Bargain.

Soph.

Gainers, say you? Infinite Lo­sers! For during the Reign of Constan­tius they had perhaps but too much Li­berty, no Taxes, great Trade, and a fair prospect of greater; both King and Peo­ple were rich, and had not their own Wickednesses and Jealousies drawn Mis­chief upon them, they were then per­haps the most flourishing Kingdom in the World: but now it is quite contrary, scarce less than forty thousand of those who so basely rebelled against Constantius, squirted out their Lives in Iernia; great Sicknesses fell into their Naval Forces, and it is said, many were little better than starved for want of Provisions: Those who were sent to aid the combi­ned Princes were ill paid, worse used, and no small part of them either lan­guished away their Lives, or were slain by the Enemy; so that not less than the Lives of a 100000 Men have been sacri­ficed in this super-brave Adventure.

Phil.

They have made a sine Market of it.

Soph.

Nay, worse yet; They are ha­rassed with all sorts of Taxes, and so heavy as was never under any Prince's Reign; but which is worst of all, the Money is not raised for their own De­fence, nor spent in their own Countrey, but sent abroad, whence it never comes back again; so that if this Trade hold, they in the end must be drained dry, and there is some hopes they may live to see Leathern Money again. As for that lit­tle Money that is left, it is so clipt and cropt, that it hath lost above one third of its Value; and yet after all this no bo­dy is paid; and it is very pleasant to see how this new Prince runs into the Tradesmens Debts for all Commodities, and makes the Soldiers and Seamen serve him without Pay: And though by this you would think he had no occasion for Money, yet he borrows of all their rich Fools he can find, and by that means he hath raised vast Summs of Money, [Page 11]which they are to be repaid at Latter-Lammas.

Phil.

If these be the Blessings of Rebel­lion, they alone (one would think) should be enough to make Men out of love with it.

Soph.

Hold, good Sir, not too fast; you have not half their Blessings yet, which are so great, and so many, that I am not able to reckon them; but that I may not be too troublesome, I will only give you a taste of some few more, and so leave you. Trade, without which Ʋtopia cannot well subsist, is in a manner lost, the greatest part of which is en­grossed by their mortal Enemies the Galimaufrians, who abuse them at their own Doors; and indeed they are be­come the Scorn and Reproach of all Na­tions: And it is not their least disadvan­tage, that in this Revolution they have not lost fewer than forty Ships of War, which were enough to make a Navy Royal for some other Kingdoms; and then for Merchant Ships, they have either perished, or been taken without number; nor doth a Week pass, wherein there is not news of some great Loss or other. And whilst all things thus seem to con­spire their Ruine, Philotimus plays the Devil and all among them, not only hanging, imprisoning, and fining at plea­sure, but making them swear and for­swear, as if he were resolved not to leave one honest Man among them; and this they think the onely way to make them God's Favourites, by which you may perceive with how great Reason one of his bold Levites, just as I left Ʋtopia, styled him, Their Deliverer from Slavery both of Soul and Body.

Phil.

Heavens bless me! Were ever Men arrived to that height of Wicked­ness, as to outface God, and make him the Patron of unheard of Villanies? Though these People are so far remote, that they are scarce known to us but by name, yet I cannot but comiserate their wofull condition: But is it possible that such a Complication of Miseries, and evident prospect of Ruine, should not make them consider, and think of re­turning to their Duty, if it were but for their bare Interest's sake?

Soph.

Not too much of that, I pray: For Rebellion in this is but too much like the Sin against the Holy Ghost, that Men rarely or never repent of it; if you should offer to dispute the Case, and desire them to consider, all you get is some such return as this; one cries, a Curse on all Consideration, it's enough to make a Man mad; o'er Shoes, o'er Boots; I am in, and must go thorough. Another cries, What should I consider for? I don't care to trouble my self; I cannot help Matters; if I may be as I am, I do not hope to be better.

Phil.

Though you represent their Condition as hopeless, yet by what you say, that People seem not to be altoge­ther insensible that they have done a­miss; for refusing to consider is a tacit Confession of Guilt; For why should they refuse to consider, but that they are affraid to awaken their Consciences, which they are aware is ready to fly in their Faces, as soon as ever they look back upon their Actions? But such a Temper is an Argument of a lost People. God himself intimates his Peoples Con­dition as desperate, when he complains, that they would not consider; and indeed it is impossible, that ever Men should re­turn and repent, if they will not consi­der of the evil of their Ways; and con­sequently such must inevitably perish.

Soph.

I am affraid their Ruine is nigh; for quos Deus vult perdere dementat prius.

Phil.

But pray what do you think may be the Reason, that a People should [Page 12]see themselves in such evil Case, and yet not lay it to heart?

Soph.

Truly I think the greatest Rea­son to be their Aversion to the Religion of Constantius, and their Fears that he will impose it on them, and settle it there, if he should return.

Phil.

But do you think that he would doe so?

Soph.

I do not think that he either will or can; for if they themselves call him home, there can be no fear of it: Nay, they would gain this farther Advantage, that the Prince his Son would be bred up in the Religion of the Countrey; which would scure them for the future, and which is a thing he hath offered. All the danger is, if upon their obstinacy he should return by Force; but even them I think he could not doe it: For besides that the People are so naturally averse to that Religion, that they would never receive it, the Endeavours to enforce it would render them so desperate, that he could never be safe: To plant that Religion there thoroughly, would cost more Blood than was spilt in all the hea­then Persecution; and I cannot ima­gine, that a Prince should desire to reign in a Wilderness, and destitute of Sub­jects. Beside, this is least imaginable as to him of all others, whose peculiar Am­bition seemed always to have been to have enriched his Subjects, and make his Kingdoms strong and flourishing.

Phil.

Well; I thank you for this Ac­count. I wish they may not stand in their own Light, but repent before it is too late: I confess I had once a kind­ness for such kind of ways, but your Discourse hath thoroughly cured me.

Soph.

Nay, pray stay: Now I am come home, did not you promise me to acquaint me with the state of our own Countrey?

Phil.

I think not; but this I will tell you, I have heard Men philosophically prate of a Sympathy in Animals, Vege­tables, and even the most insensible ina­nimate Creatures; and though I thought my self not much wise for their Dis­course, yet I did believe there was such a Thing; but now I begin to suspect there is more, even a Sympathy between Countreys and Kingdoms.

Soph.

What makes you talk at this rate?

Phil.

A little time will expound the Riddle; by that you have conversed some time here, you will better under­stand me; but what if at our next Meet­ing you should tell me, that Hypocrates's Twins were not more like each other, nor more sympathizing in all things than are your own Countrey and Ʋtopia.

Soph.

God forbid! I would not again be in such a Bedlam as Ʋtopia, for all the World.

Phil.

I wish you may find your own home any better; but my Business calls me away, and that must be left to your Experience. Farewell.

Soph.

Beshrew your Heart for me; your cautious Suggestion hath put me in­to a Fright; but my Occasions also want me. Adieu till we meet again.

LONDON, Printed in the Year, M.DC.XCII.

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