THE Progress of Honesty: Or, a VIEW OF A COURT AND CITY.
A PINDARIQUE POEM.
By T. D.
Altera jam teritur bellis Civilibus aetas: Suis & ipsa Roma viribus ruit.
Horace.
LONDON: Printed for Ioseph Hindmarsh at the Black Bull in Cornhil. 1681.
The Progress of HONESTY: Or, a VIEW of COURT and CITY.
I.
ONE Summers Evening when the wearied Sun
Was hastning to go down,
And dewy
Thetis th' Ocean did inspire
With gentle Calms to court his amorous fire,
I left the busie Town
To entertain my thoughts one hour alone,
The winds to their deep Caverns did retreat,
And only a cool Breeze
Did softly kiss the Trees,
To temper the past days unruly heat,
A time it was when Nature seem'd t' imploy,
Her self in general joy,
And every thing was pleas'd in th' Water, Earth and Sky,
The wanton Fishes danc'd within their Streams,
The Beasts unyok'd from Teams,
Ran lowing to the distant Mead,
To greet their much lov'd Mates to sport and feed,
And on each lofty Tree or covert Bush,
The Lark, the Linnet, Nightingale and Thrush,
Did in their chirping language sing,
Long lays of Love and of the smiling Spring,
Of scatter'd grain near some rich Farmers house
And of their Misses vows,
Of Snares and dangerous Limetwigs then began
That oft their Friends trapan,
Here joint invectively they long divisions ran,
And curst th' unnatural Craft of silly, yet conceited Man.
II.
In the dark Center of a lonely Grove,
For Melancholly fram'd and Love,
A Rock there stands that props th' adjacent hill
Craggy and mossy made by unknown skill,
Of wondrous height and magnitude,
Impenetrable Stone and rude;
From whose aspiring top a stream did pour
Swift Cataracts, whose fall and dreadful rore
Wonder and Terror bore.
Here Nature th' Pageant Mansion to adorn,
Its hollow Sides, had into Conduits worn;
Whose depth and bottom none did ever see
But only God and she.
'Twas here her private Storehouse she did keep,
Here mighty Treasures heap,
Safe as in
Neptunes Closet of the deep.
I much delighted with the cool Recess
Of this miraculous place,
Laid my self down to rest and meditate
Upon the Worlds and my uncertain state,
And all the Prodigies of Fate.
When a kind Eccho near me drew,
A Voice me thought I knew,
And so it was, for when again it spoke,
Looking toward the farthest side oth' Rock,
I saw two persons, th' one was sad and mute,
Whilst t'other awfully held grave dispute;
Whom when to view he did himself extend,
I knew to be my good old Friend.
III.
A wondrous man born of Celestial Race,
The Beams of Honour, Vertue, Grace,
Shone in his comely reverend face,
On which you might perceive
Many a smarting Wound and Scar
He for his King and Country had receiv'd
In bloody Field and Loyal War:
[Page 3]Reward for which he ne'er ignobly sought,
But the Oblivion of his Merits thought
His own misfortune, not his Princes fault.
About his Neck a Golden Medal hung,
Which he atchiev'd when young:
A
Caesar's figure there was coin'd, which he
With his own hand had given, the badge of Loyalty:
Yet ne'er could Fame his Constancy divide
With an ungenerous Pride;
His heart was humble, full of Modesty
As Virgin Infancy;
Plain were his thoughts, ne'er taught the tedious Rules
By Pedant Fools
Of humming Colledges or buzzing Schools:
And yet by th' vigour of his Wit could reach
The depth of Natures Mysteries, and preach
All the Morals wise Philosophy could teach.
None sure was ere renown'd as he,
Religious, good, of heavenly pedegree,
Ador'd by all the vertuous world, his name was
Honesty.
IV.
The other was his Son, 'twas strange to see
Such bitter fruit spring from so good a Tree▪
Vicious and vain he was, a wanton Youth
That wandred from the Truth,
Treading in slippery paths, rash
Error was his Name,
Never the heir to his great Fathers fame,
But of his Mother frailties shame.
His Eyes the flaming Tapers of reproach
Kindled at some late deboach,
Lookt glowing red, and on his flesh were seen
Some marks of wounds, but not such as had been
The scars of honour, but of infamy,
The Effects of Wine, Night Brawls, Temerity▪
When for suburbian Jilt he fought, and she
Most impudently swore,
He solely enjoy'd the Indies that she bore,
Yet the salacious Whore
Was at that hour ingag'd to fifty more.
[Page 4]His Pockets swell'd with Challenges and News,
Lascivious Pamplets, Billet Deuxs,
And Tickets from the Beldame of the Stews.
Deaf to reproof he was, and hugg'd his Crimes,
A modish Fop, a Creature of the times;
One that could flatter every Golden Clod,
And call my Spindle Lord, that made him drunk, his God,
Adore the reverend wrinkled Lady Quaint,
And swear she's more celestial than a Saint;
Protest not
Venus Doves had been
White as her Faces skin,
Though he could see no part of it for Paint:
Stubborn as
Eli's Sons, or
Iacob's envious brood,
Stranger to wise men, and a foe to good,
And most ungrateful lov'd his Father less
Because he did his Crimes express,
And held the Mirror up to shew his wickedness.
But as the Eternal does his mercies shew,
And grant Remission below
To Mortals that rebellious grow.
Thus proving divine Mystery,
And that to live from passions free
Is only th' Province of the Deity.
So the reverend Sire; after a stream had run
From his Eyes aged fountains, thus begun
To pitty and instruct his just precipitating Son.
V.
Where wilt thou fall, ah, why thy self destroy?
Rash heedless Boy,
Why dost thou snatch at a deluding bait
That hooks thee to thy fate?
O thou unfortunate!
Look here and borrow thy old Fathers eye,
Look well, and through this Perspect shalt thou spy
The World drest in her vanity.
See here Ambition plotting how to climb
Up to a seat sublime,
And now aloud resounds his fame,
Now like a Meteor does he flame,
[Page 5]Whilst all the air is fill'd with ecchoes of his name:
But see, the wheel of chance is turn'd,
And what was so admir'd is scorn'd,
The Blazing Comet shines not, that before
Enlightned the Horizon o're,
The Exhalation's spent and seen no more.
See there where
Faction with his hundred hands,
And Treasons numerous as sands,
Impious though Old stands preaching in a Tree,
Stirring the long Ear'd rout to mutiny;
From infancy a Traitor known,
One that would fight for Conscience, but had none;
Hark how the
Mobile shout, that ecchoing peal
Portends the downfal of some Common-Weal:
Some Monarch now
To th' force must bow,
Of brutish Ignorance, pretended Zeal.
Next turn thy eye, and view Religion's state,
And there perhaps thou'lt find too late,
The canting Parasite gilt Fortune serves,
Whilst the truly Pious starves:
'Tis the sly, fleer, and supple knee unties
The Purse of gouty Avarice;
And we may boldly now declare,
The Clergy thrive by Flattery more than Prayer:
See how that reverend Doctor vails his Cap
To you prophane Court Ape;
Sure he has some suit to beg,
That thus he sneaks and scrapes a Leg,
Whilst t'other proudly keeps him bare: Thus we may see
Learning's the footstool of Court-vanity.
VI.
See next where
Beauty comes, Parent of darling Sin,
That charming Demon of the skin,
That Victor that great Monarchs rules,
That Paradise of loving fools,
That gets more Souls
Than Heaven and all the Miracles within;
[Page 6]That Soul of Joy, that Tyrant o're the blood,
That blessing, yet a curse; though heavenly, yet not good;
That potent power that with resistless Art,
Reigns all in all and all in every part.
O how she shines and does her Nets prepare,
Look how they crowd into her snare,
And think eternal Bliss is there;
Till Sickness shades the glaring light,
Then what they once thought bright
Appears a horrid Spectre hideous to the sight.
But these Remarques, fond Boy, are few,
Search Nature through,
And thou shalt find a thousand new:
A strange vicissitude of things,
From Pesants even to Kings.
Then patient Merit shalt thou find ill us'd,
Vertue and Wit by Ignorance abus'd,
Knowledge low as the Grave dejected lies,
Whilst in all places Vice doth only rise.
In th' Country, City, Court, new Crimes we see,
A most unnatural change in each degree,
And nothing scorn'd or slighted more than
Honesty.
VII.
Thus spoke the good Old Man with modest grace,
And here a second shower apace,
Fell on his Beard like Jems, and deckt his reverend Face.
But
Error who had with much impatience sate,
And heard his Father moral Truths relate,
Like Libertines within a Temple shut,
Who having no way to get out,
Are forc'd a while to be devout;
With an unwilling mind obeyed:
Till stung with rage to hear the Court reprov'd,
The Court he so much lov'd;
Raising his drowsie head this answer made,
To th' aged, Sir, that pleasures reap in vain,
All pleasure seems a pain;
The choicest Banquet is but made a waste,
To one that has no taste.
[Page 7]And therefore you whose insipid Palat's down,
Past help of all th' Physicians in the Town,
Failing to relish, rail at th' Courtly treat,
On which with joy and greediness we eat;
Because your Stomach cannot be preserv'd,
You wish all others starv'd:
So th' wither'd Beldame youthful once and gay,
That in
December now reflects on her past
May,
Missing with grief th' effects of Love,
She formerly could prove,
Grows mad, and with true Womans malice stung,
Hates all her Sex, and wishes damn'd the Beautiful and Young.
Wretched is he, replied the Sire, that tries
To make a senceless Idiot good or wise,
He cultivates with endless toil,
A barren, rocky, and unfruitful Soil,
Where Thistles only grow, and not one valued Grain can rise.
Think not, rash Fool, that I the Court deprave,
'Cause I no favour have:
Honesty in it self's rewarded more,
And is like Charity to the Poor,
Repaid from the eternal Store.
I only for thy sake
Did some Reflections make,
To teach thee how the Vertuous to prefer,
Before the Rich, the Lewd, or Popular.
The Court's a spacious Garden and it breeds
Both fragrant Flowers and noisom Weeds,
Hemlock and Jessamine flourish and sprout forth,
As if of equal worth;
Which to distinguish is well worth thy care:
And that my fame thou maist no more abuse,
By pleading ignorance for excuse;
In silence give attentive ear,
And I'le describe both good and bad in each true character.
VIII.
Titus the Second reigns, he whose celestial mind
Stiles him the joy of human kind,
So good, that if 'twere possible there could be
[Page 8]Another Heaven-born God and Man
Since our great Saviours Reign,
By the bright Host above, I'd swear 'tis he:
In every Kingly Grace he does abound,
For Wisdom lov'd, for Clemency renown'd,
And in each Art the Learned ere desir'd,
Most skilful and admir'd:
What mystick Knowledge human Nature blest,
That dwells not in his Breast?
What Vertue ere did Heaven to man impart,
That centers not within his Royal Heart?
Or what inspiring Rhetorick did belong
To th' wise old Poet's Song,
That flows not now from his Oraculous Tongue:
Look in his face, and Heaven has pourtray'd there
The Grandeur that true Majesty should wear;
Awful his brow, and terrible his frown,
On such as dim the Lustre of his Crown;
Yet may the Loyal in each Feature see
Such marks of God-like Clemency,
That whilst they tremble they're delighted too,
And with a silent veneration view:
He loves his People, and their Faith defends,
The best of Masters, and the best of Friends,
Patient though wrong'd, never to passion driven,
Just as his Laws, and merciful as Heaven,
His Heart is humble though his Throne is high,
So constant that Hells worst Plots he dares defie,
And smile at trembling Traitors that stand by:
Who ere but he a just Revenge could quell,
When his great Father fell?
Who could forgive the impious
Mobile,
But only he
That has more heavenly Pity than Mortality:
Yet still the barbarous Rebels him infest,
Still they his lov'd and dear-bought Peace molest,
And murmur at his Reign though in it blest,
Like Brutes they feed upon the fat o'th Land,
In Peace they live, and Nature Stores command,
Yet use his Bounty to no other end
But to have power to offend;
[Page 9]Whilst Mercy sways, these Saints a War maintain,
They're never quiet, but when Tyrants reign▪
And as a stubborn Child that oft' has prov'd,
His Mothers fond Indulgency and Love,
Vext at some trifle, stamps, lies down and cries,
Blubbers and swells, and her command denies,
Until at last she out of patience grows,
And quells the little Rebel with pathetick blows:
So th' Factious never true Allegeance wore,
Till conquered and kept poor.
For as a famous Bard did sing of Yore▪
Nothing Rebellion plants in
English Blood,
But too much Plenty and a Prince too good.
But ah! no more, fond Muse, no more▪
He needs not thy poor Praise, therefore give o're:
He like the Sun shines every where so bright,
There can be no additional light,
No more than thou canst see
With Mortal Eyes Celestial Mystery;
Or with a Plummet sound endless Eternity.
IX.
Next
Resolution comes, the Great, the Good,
Allied to him in Vertues as in Blood,
A Hero for his Constancy renown'd,
And in Mysterious Politicks profound;
Positive fixt and setled to his Will,
And dares do any thing but Ill,
Revenge his wrongs though they like
Hydras grow,
A faithful Friend but a most dreadful Foe,
Bravest in danger, valiant but not rash:
For when the Belgian Streamers brav'd the British Cross,
Then on the bloody Deck he seem'd to grow,
Whilst Fate affrighted aim'd the Shot too low,
Aw'd with the Terror of his dauntless Brow▪
A Loyal Prince and Wise, secure of Fate,
Of Honour nice, in every Action great,
Not fond of Sway, but if by right his own;
In his Lifes Scale he weighs a Throne.
[Page 10]His haughty Soul ne'er understood
To humour the Mechanick Brood.
The People like rough Waters are to him,
On which he swims against the Stream,
Nor fears the danger of the wildest storm;
His courage and his Fate contemns all harm.
In his Religion firm, but not precise,
Admires the Counsel of the Wise,
But cares not to be Catechis'd,
Or new untrodden paths be shown,
As if the way to Heaven he had not known,
Or that his Soul were not his own;
His Conscience will be guided by his sense,
Not by the vulgar's impudence.
So th' Roman Heroes rather chose to die
By their own noble hands than by an Enemy.
X.
Deep in a hollow, dark and dreadful Cave,
Black and gloomy as the Grave,
That never saw a lucid Ray
Of the Suns face, nor cheerful day,
But shaded o're with baleful Ivy seem'd
The Cottage of some melancholly Fiend;
On whose top ever sate the ghastly Owl,
Shrieking her baleful note and horrid howl,
Far from the pleasing chirp of other fowl;
Old
Discord did with pale-fac't
Treason dwell,
Near neighbours and much nearer friends to hell;
There in a Grott where never leaf was seen,
Nor any thing that's green,
But stumps of rotten Trees and Thorns that long had blasted been;
Treason in darkness lay, his Lodging furnisht was,
With Ponyards, Pistols, Daggers, many a Glass
With mortal liquid substance fill'd,
That Loyalty had often kill'd,
When ne'er a Sword could do't in Honour's field.
Discord's Apartment different was seen,
He had a Lawyer been;
[Page 11]One that if Fee were large could loudly bawl;
But had a Cough o'th' Lungs if small;
And never car'd who lost so he might win:
His Shelves were cramm'd with Processes and Writs,
That dull'd poor Clients wits;
Long Rolls of Parchment, Bonds, Citations, Wills,
Fines, Executions, Errors, and eternal Chancery Bills:
This blessed Pair thought this obscure retreat
A place most for their purpose fit
To forge their villanies, and exclaim
On
Resolution's Name,
And blast his spreading Fame
Which to perform, and safe to stem this Stream,
They make Religion the Theam,
The Rabbles bugbear and the Courtiers dream,
And only th' Wise Mans shining beam:
Religion, ever made the grave disguise
Of horrid Villanies.
And now the News does various thoughts inspire,
Now, now the Train has taken fire,
And straight 'tis buz'd about the Town,
Religion's rac't, the Charter, King and Crown
In danger: This the Vulgar swallow down,
Then rail at
Resolution, and find flaws
Even in his Title, swear the Good Old Cause
Is lost, and broke are all the Canon Laws.
XI.
In this impetuous Torrent of the State,
Young
Marcian rises, fam'd of late
For Conduct, Courage, and Advantages of Fate,
Mighty in Office, Publick in Report,
Powerful in th' Army, and Belov'd at Court,
Born on the Peoples Shoulders with such Pride,
As Indian Kings on conquered Princes ride;
Heaven markt him for uncommon Dignity,
None Favour'd more, nor none more Great than he,
Till Hells curst Agents caus'd his Sense to stray,
Out of his oncelov'd Path, his Loyal Way,
And counsell'd him to disobey;
[Page 12]Friendly to his Destructien him advise,
That on his Ruine they might rise;
And more the weakness of his Youth to try,
And swell his Illegitimate Ambition high,
With hopes to gain a Crown,
Which they (by right) knew ne'er could be his own.
Two wretched Sons of
Belial rose
Unhappy
Resolution to oppose,
And swore for
Marcian much, but more for cloaths;
Their deep mouth'd Oaths to th' lofty Skies were sent
That there would be a Change in Government,
A Massacre, and Princes were to die,
The Lord knows when, or how, or why,
Yet some affirm it truth, and some a lie;
Strong Proofs were made, and the Law was satisfied,
And being justly tried,
Fate turn'd his mortal point, and the shorn Elders died;
But all so constant, and with such humility,
That even I impartial
Honesty
Offer'd some pittying Tears, the effects of human Charity.
A Crown which with magnetick influence draws
The Souls of great ones to its charming Laws,
Tempts fathom'd
Marcian to espouse the Cause
In shew at least, then for his sake
The shouting Rabble mighty Bonfires make,
The blazing Faggots did each Street adorn,
As if he did from Victory return;
Unhappy Flames which since he finds to true,
Sing'd both his Grandeur and Discretion too:
But when their Prince the rightful heir of Fame,
To prove his Innocence from Exile came,
No Arches were adorn'd, no Triumphs made,
He
Gorgon like made the wild herd afraid,
No joyful Shouts, or welcome Bells,
Nor Lights set out, but all like Snails
Shrunk their Phanatick Horns into their Shells.
XII.
T' encourage all a Nobleman appears,
For Wit and Valour famous many years,
And choosing Knights o'th' Shires;
[Page 13]A Poet, Souldier, Lover, all that can
Make up an extraordinary man;
In whom his Enemies most own
Perfection in excess, external shown,
But in his Intellect unknown;
Sometimes for th' King, then for the Mobile:
But what is Wit if it want Loyalty?
A witty Rebel is no more
Than like a handsome publick Whore,
Infamous and contemn'd by th' wise and good,
And only useful to the lewd:
Yet if we ere could judge of hearts
By knowledge or by parts,
We our
Parmenio should prefer,
Equally brave with his great Ancestor;
For if Rebellion buds, where grows such sense?
The Devil converted preaches Abstinence.
In his right hand a Peer he led,
Of whose worth more hereafter shall be said;
With a young Baron fil'd, just fledg'd i'th' Laws,
And newly then corrupted to the Cause,
Usher'd by bold Sir
Tophas: and in 'tother,
A lean warpt canting Linsey-Woolsey Brother.
Next a fat Author wadled into view,
For Satyr famous and Sedition too,
A Gog and Magog in each outward part,
But th' least of Pygmies in his sence and art;
Distracted Nature swore there was no kin
'Twixt his external gifts and those within,
His Soul just dwindled to a voice,
Rails at her thoughtless choice,
And th' Body sweating out its wrongs,
Coughs answers from distempered Lungs,
Tells th' invisible Fantome that
'Twas her lean quality made him so fat;
Useless in all, unfit to think
Or do, but only sleep and drink,
And forc'd in this great dearth of sence,
T'have refuge only from his impudence,
To side with the Factions that would Monarchs rule,
And grow a positive busie prating fool.
[Page 14]There are a sort of men a mungrel race,
That Loyalty like Coin deface,
And think that kind of Honesty is best,
That suits most with their carnal interest,
That loves their Prince only by fits,
Just as the humour or their business hits,
And ne'er will his Prerogative maintain,
But when they're charm'd with hopes of gain,
Or from his power expect
Something they could not else effect,
A suit against himself their votes persue,
For that they'l wheedle, fawn and woo,
Yet swear they're loyal all and true:
So th' Citizen that his Soul has pliant made,
And bound his Conscience 'Prentice to his Trade;
The person ever does most kindly treat
That he designs to cheat.
XIII.
The honest Wretch that Vertue does adore
Is certain to be poor:
The garment cannot this nice age adorn,
'Tis out of mode, not decent to be worn;
A rugged Maxim which we treat,
As a Theam useless grown, and obsolete,
Whilst other Tenets th' erring Court does guide,
Flattery, Folly, Pride,
Lust and a thousand crimes beside:
Who'd think man had a share of heavenly Grace,
That saw grave Mosca flatter for a Place?
Or know a reverend Judge in th' Law profound,
Sell an Offender's life for fifty pound?
Or see a modest Scholar cringe t' a Lord,
That swell'd with Land and Nonsence scorns t' afford
The humble Prostitute a word?
Why should stiff Balbus that through th' gazing rout
In triumph rides, scorn his wise friend on foot?
Who though he lowly bows with humble grace,
The purblind Puppet never turns his face,
[Page 15]Nor answers the salute again,
His Crevat string both sides has wedg'd his Chin:
But 'tis not State, nor Gold, nor gay Attire,
Can the learn'd Soul with vanity inspire;
The Book and Sence he understands,
Makes him more rich than 'tothers Lands;
He knows though white and soft appears the skin,
A rotten carcass may be hid within:
Though clog'd with Laqueys the gilt Coach does roul▪
The wallowing Spark within may be an Owl:
Though
Vesta scour with Coach and Six abroad;
She's in her warm Apartment known a Bawd;
Who thriving on the sins o'th' Nation,
Each minutes damns her self in her Vocation.
Then if this knowledge we repeat,
And view the chances of unconstant fate,
Who would be fond of being great?
Who would on favour ere depend,
When there is no such thing as friend,
No constant love, no grateful action due,
No man that's profit proof, nor woman true:
Your friend if wanted shall soon weary prove▪
Your Mistress haunted shall desert your love:
Nay, your self against your better self shall hold,
And th' vices of your Body damn your Soul▪
Yet hold, Satyrick Muse, pull in thy rein,
And thy wild reasons sentiments restrain.
Though Vice around the Court like lightning rove,
It cannot sure blast all the Grove.
Old loyal
Clitus is in fame sublime,
He threescore years has fac'd the storms of time,
Untainted of the least ungenerous crime;
And though his fortune some moist heads decry,
None touch his Courage or his Loyalty:
His part was Valour, Valour the Souldiers bliss,
Success was heavens Prerogative, not his.
With him brave
Cleon joins, the good▪ the sage,
Wise even in youth, and beautiful in age;
A man grac'd with his prudent Monarchs trust,
The truest sign of being just:
The
Irish Confines loudly can proclaim
His Virtue and his Fame:
[Page 16]He's brave as Honours self, does Merit nobly prize,
Valiant like
Hector, like
Ulisses wise.
There's honest
Memnon too, and
Battus learn'd by fits,
And good
Mecenas Patron of the Wits,
With some few more which I omit.
For now my Muse grows weary of her Theam,
This Courtly gay fantastick Dream;
And to the City steers,
The fam'd Metropolis of factious doubts and fears;
There she a while lies down,
As tired Armies rest ere they attack a Town.
XIV.
Amongst the Grandees gifted to rebel,
That this vast buzzing Hive with Faction swell,
There's one whose Character is hard to tell;
An old Quack Statesman that had rather die
Than lose a grain of Popularity,
Or be accounted Loyal on condition
To be thought less a Politician:
Some call him
Hophni, some
Achitophel,
Others chief Advocate for Hell,
Some cry he sure a second
Ianus is,
And all things past and future sees,
Another rapt with Satyr swears his eyes
Upon himself are spies,
And slily do their Opticks inward rowl,
To watch the subtle motions of his Soul,
That they with sharp perspective sight,
And help of Intellectual light,
May guide the Helm o'th' State aright,
Nay view what will hereafter be
By their all-seeing quality.
The erring Ancients much did
Argus prize,
That Royal Centinel for's hundred eyes:
If him they so admired, what would they do,
If they our passive Hero knew,
That sees a hundred ways with two;
His Body once so active known,
Is with Diseases crampt and useless grown;
[Page 17]His Conscience long imprison'd with his Gout,
Now cares not to get out,
Lest losing the Retreat which here she gain'd,
She no where should be entertain'd:
His Bone's his Weather-Glass, and his Back
Is his perpetual Almanack,
By which he knows ere 'tis too late
Both Change of Weather and the State;
His subtlety so nice his Brethren find,
He jealous grows of all Mankind,
Much doubts himself, but more those men
That he but newly has drawn in,
And therefore strange conclusions tries,
And to be thought extremely wise,
Leaves them to act, himself t'advise.
Thus as some Trumpeter to Battel drawn,
Fights not himself, but still sets others on;
He ne'er himself would th' danger meet,
But employ'd those that had least Wit;
And as some Grandees of late times have done,
Made their Rebellion hide his own.
There nothing can so great a Bugbear be
To's speculative sense as Monarchy;
He hates to hear the name of King,
And wishes there were no such thing:
And as a skilful Rider oft is forc'd,
(That sees his Enemy much better hors'd)
To thrust him from his seat, and so
Get ground of his well mounted Foe;
So he true Jocky of the State;
That at his Post ne'er came too late,
Dismounts all his Antagonists beside,
That he himself might only ride.
Ambition in his Face does plain appear
Through its thin Veil, a sly Phanatick fleer,
And you without a Perspective may see
Pride, in each Feature of Humility:
State-Gamester like he th' Nation nicks,
And Meekness is his best of Politicks;
So the unfathom'd Flood does smile and sooth,
No danger threatens, all is calm and smooth,
[Page 18]Tempting th' unwary Traveller to wade in,
Who then too late finds no way out again;
'Tis deep as Hell, and no redress is found,
But the unhappy Wretch must sink and drown.
XV.
To match this Rabbi there is one,
Not equall'd but by him in all the Town,
The Cities Mouth by which she tells
Her Fears, her Prophecies, and Oracles;
A man whom zealous Numbers join
T' enrich with their own darling Coin,
And as
Venetians deal with
Iews,
Commit it carefully to use,
Not that they do impose this trust,
Incourag'd by his fame of being just;
For he this thriving Maxim has profest,
That th' Conscience of the Wise is interest;
But that in proper time a Bank might swell,
To bribe dissenting Brethren to rebel:
He's one that still with Beauty keeps a League,
And his past Life was famous for Intrigue,
He haunted Brothels and grew lewd,
The better to distinguish good,
With hoary Bawds kept formal Interest,
To sift into the Nature of the Beast;
And as some Parents fondly use
To send their Children to the Stews,
Urge 'em to Wenches, Wine and Dice,
That they the sooner may grow wise,
And see the vanity of Vice;
So he for many years did bend his will
To know the Quintessence of ill;
In wild Night Frolicks spent a fair Estate,
And with each Suburb Jilt grew intimate,
For Moral Virtues sake, as some agree,
But others bluntly swear 'twas Lechery,
An itching Demon which long since did dwell
In his hot Veins, but now transform'd to Zeal,
[Page 19]Zeal that inspires him to debate
The Peoples Doubts, and Errors of the State,
And makes him in the Publick Hall
Ecchoing with Noise and Nonsense loudly baul.
There is a time by custom counted fit,
When numerous crowds in consultation meet,
To pry into the States condition,
And severally play the Politician;
By force then proud Green Apron Tyrants sway,
And Legislative Orders bluntly disobey;
Not force of Arms, for few need fear
They so couragious will appear,
But powerful vote, ear deafning voice,
And indefatigable noise:
Two Tribunes for the People then are chose,
Bulwarks 'gainst foreign and domestick foes;
And those in the Election soonest thrive
That dare intrench upon Prerogative,
And raise rebellious Tenets high,
Upon the neck of Loyalty:
But that such Villany should dwell
In purblind Zeal,
To place in Office of such weighty trust
A Rebel amongst all his Tribe the worst,
Is the severest Instance that we lie
Slaves to the Yoke of impudent Presbytery.
XVI.
Ungrateful Vulgar, had you none to chose,
But one that all Obedience did refuse?
Could you with no less Fiend begin,
But
Lucifer himself must be drawn in?
Of zealous Rabbies still you had enough,
Prophets for Oath, Bravoes for Proof,
Could not this serve, but you must fall
More low, and into Office call
A factious Fury worse than all?
Like th' stubborn
Israelites of old you move,
And their Enthusiastick Whimsies prove,
Goggle Eyed
Baal, Gawdy
Accaron
They left, nor longer in their errors trod,
The Calf of
B— was the darling God;
That only was design'd
To be ador'd by Calves of worser kind.
The bellowing many headed Beast,
That groan'd as if by Tyranny opprest,
Yet were themselves the cause of their unrest:
But now we talk of causes and of fears
Observe who next appears,
And see to the great Mart Villanios come,
That Plots abroad, and Pimps at home;
That to be Tribune rackt his haggard Wit,
But wiser Judgments voted him more fit
To be a Scavenger and cleanse the Street,
Swore he was better skill'd by approbation
To purge a Nuisance than a Nation;
Which injury so near to his heart did grow,
That he resentment of the wrong to shew,
Immur'd himself three days in Bales of Callico;
There resolutely took the sullen pains
To shrowd his popular projecting brains:
A mighty loss this to the Tribe did seem,
For now no more advise was given by him,
Let th' tottering Nation sink or swim.
Until as peevish Lovers woo,
That rail, and swear each others hatred true,
At last forget their Oaths and think't no sin
To kiss the Perjury off and love again.
So he, though when enrag'd an Oath had made,
And solemnly forsworn the Canting Trade;
Yet such a natural Itch he to Rebellion had,
That willingly all wrongs he could forget,
To Club again and plague the State.
XVII.
Happy the Man, my Son, whose honest heart
Disloyalty could ne'er subvert,
That like a Diamond keeps its constant trust,
As that its beauty free from rust,
Which nothing can destroy but its own dust;
Cherishing noble Loyalty,
Till Fate unclews Mortality,
And sends him crown'd with Vertue to find room
Amongst fam'd Heroes in some honour'd Tomb;
There th' Body sleeps, but th' royal Mind
Within Fames brightest Altars is enshrin'd,
Sublime as heaven, and shall be
Eterniz'd in posterity,
And as a Phenix in th' Arabian Groves,
Whose pangs of age kind death removes,
Breeds from the ashes of her spicy Urn,
(The Cedars top where she did burn)
Another off-spring that will be
Far more admir'd than she.
So he that Loyalty does prize,
Loyalty the noblest Vertue of the Wise,
With honour'd praise is ever stor'd,
Alive renown'd, when dead ador'd,
Lov'd by the pious and the brave,
And shall, like sacred
Virgil, have
Eternal Laurels grow around his Grave.
Whilst
Faction that lean wither'd hag,
That can of nothing but her Treason brag,
With Infamy is spotted like the Plague.
Do but that Nations misery survey
That glories in her will to disobey;
Observe the fate of that most wretched thing
That for his interest abjures his King;
And with an unrelenting eye,
Thou'lt see the one with fears distracted lie,
The other infamously die.
Wouldst thou live well, my Son, and free from ill,
Still let thy Conscience sway thy Will.
[Page 22]Let that and Reason still controul,
And guide th' inconstant Orders of thy Soul;
Wild Passion, let Religion rule,
And look upon an Atheist as a Fool:
He that a Deity denies,
As some sly Devil in disguise,
That with his hellish Tenets would deceive
Weak credulous fools that can believe.
Look on thy Countries grievance like a friend,
And pity faults thou canst not mend;
But seek not by unlawful course
To lance its wounds and make 'em worse:
Remember
when Rebellion bloody grew,
The Rebels with the State were ruin'd too.
To generous ends bestow thy wealth,
Be temperate for th' sake of health;
And if amongst life's chances thou dost prove
Ever so mad to fall in love,
To thy charm'd Senses aid thy Reason call,
Or Beauty will confound 'em all:
For as a Poet, whose free Fancy roves
In sacred Rapture to Elizian Groves,
Imagines flowry beds and hills of joy,
Where naked Angels sleeping lie,
Builds golden Palaces with Crystal Pillars grac'd,
And Diamond Doors on golden Hinges plac'd,
Creates embroider'd Grotts where
Cupids dwell,
Adorn'd with luscious Fruit and Flowers of Sense-delighting smell:
And though he knows himself did this create,
He's fond as if 'twere true, and loves the dear conceit:
Such beauteous Woman is, such fancied still,
Her Smiles can save, her frowns can kill,
Her person such Divinity does wear,
That tast and smell and all perfection's there.
Extatick Rapture transport all
That we Elizium can call:
If then in this soft snare,
Her blooming Cheek, her Eye, or Hair,
Thy heart her prisoner she retains,
And thou wantst power to break the chains;
[Page 23]To the great God o'th' Grape thy self assign,
And there's a sovereign power in Wine,
Shall give thee instant liberty,
From all her Charms and she,
And in a moment make thee free,
As frozen Age, or as unfeeling Infancy.
Here stopt the reverend Moralist, whose look
Sufficiently confirm'd the Truths he spoke:
Joyful he was to see his words had won
Resentment in his Son,
Whose cloudy Aspect did declare
Within his brest what passions were at war;
He now on bended knee low as the earth,
Begs pardon of the Author of his birth,
For errors past, and vows to be
Henceforth the Child of his Morality.
With joyful look the Sire his Convert grac'd,
Thrice blest the kneeling Youth, and thrice embrac'd,
And as the Kingly Prophet once did
Absalom,
Forgave his sins of youth, caress'd and brought him home.
And now the glittering God of day
Had through opposing Elements made way,
In
Neptunes deep Recess withdrew
His Rays from mortal view;
With borrowed Beams th' inconstant Moon
Possest his place, and counterfeits a Noon.
Laborious Nature seem'd at rest,
And soft repose crown'd Man and Beast,
When to my peaceful Lodging I retir'd,
Well pleas'd at what I heard, and
Honesty admir'd.
FINIS.
Books printed for and sold by Ioseph Hindmarsh at the Black Bull in Cornhill.
REliquiae Raleighanae, being Discourses and Sermons on several Subjects. By the Reverend Dr. Walter Raleigh, Dean of Wells, and Chaplain in Ordinary to his late Majesty King Charles the First.
Sermons upon Faith and Providence, and other Subjects. By the late Reverend William Outram, D. D. Prebend of Westminster, and Chaplain in Ordinary to his Majesty.
An impartial Account of the Arraignment; Tryal and Condemnation of Thomas late Earl of Strafford, and Lord Lievtenant of Ireland, before the Parliament at Westminster, Anno Dom. 1641.
The Loyal Citizen reviv'd, a Speech made by Alderman Garroway, at a Common-Hall on Tuesday the 17▪ of Ianuary 1642. upon occasion of a Speeech delivered there the Friday before by Mr. Pym, at the Reading of his Majesties Answer to the late Petition.
The Good Old Way, or a Discourse offered to all true hearted Protestants concerning the Ancient Way of the Church, and the Conformity of the Church of England thereunto, as to its Government, Manner of Worship, Rites and Customs. By Edward Pelling, Rector of St. Martin Ludgate, and Chaplain to his Grace the Duke of Summerset.