Fidelis Achates: OR, AN Historical Account Of the Most Remarkable Actions IN THE LATE REIGNS, AND THE Present Revolution.
In Heroick Verse.
LONDON, Printed for John Sprint, at the Bell in Little Britain. 1699.
FIDELIS ACHATES.
I Sing a Man renown'd as that of
Troy,
Who from the Court retir'd himself t'enjoy;
He's now retreated to his Calm Aboad,
And awful resteth like a Rural God;
Less noisie Business now does entertain,
Till Fate, and Fame, provoke him forth again,
To found a Nation, or to save a Land,
Sure equal Spirits equal Powers command.
His great and just Endowments flasht too bright,
The sick'ning Court was dazzl'd with the Light;
Ev'n Envy stagger'd, till fresh Furies joyn,
And all against this mighty Man combine.
The wrinkl'd
Sanhedrim upon him frown'd,
And when he grac'd a Throne, a Prison found:
Elaborate Votes imagin'd Faults declare,
Oh! where they more than Humane, not to err!
A well-fram'd Church he from an early Youth
Meek as its Maker, and as him all Truth,
With Pious Zeal espous'd —
No Foreign Gods transplanted he'd adore,
He dash'd the Pagan Idols from the Shore.
He saw, and pitied, with a brave disdain,
Strange Altars built from ev'ry impious Brain:
In ev'ry Grove Phanatic Domes were rear'd,
Domestick
Pagods every where appear'd;
Polluted Off rings stain'd the Promis'd Land:
Who cou'd like him in such a Storm command?
Tell me, my Muse, what angry Deity
Sign'd such Returns for so great Piety?
Is Piety imputed for a Crime?
Can Passion reign in Beings so sublime?
But who with Heav'n this Quarrel can maintain?
The
Heroe must be train'd, and disciplin'd to Man.
An Ancient Seat he held, a Noble Place,
A Seat well worthy of so fam'd a Race.
What Worthies sallied from that stately Pile?
Friends to the Throne, and Patriots of the Isle;
Substantial Souls, not Minions of the Times,
They never blush'd, because they knew no Crime;
Succeeding Reigns were with their Counsels blest,
He more compleat, more finish'd than the rest.
On pleasing Banks, by a large Rivers side,
Where easie Waves in curl'd
Meanders glide,
With Columns grac'd, the House erected high,
A Reverend Prospect gives the distant Eye;
The Pines in artful Masts their Turrets rear,
The River now a Forest does appear;
Ev'n
Afric's
Nile, and
Indian Rivers hide
Their Heads, and blush, not boasting such a Pride
The Decks expanded on the winged Air
All
Indias Odours cling and scatter far;
The graceful Swans around the Vessels throng,
A Bird that only tunes a Dying Song,
When Age, or Wounds, compel it to retire,
Flags in the Ouze, & sings, & on the Beach expires.
The Glebe, by Art and Nature fertile, bore
For Man, and Beast, a glad luxurious Store.
Here, by a Court-prevailing Envy tost,
The
Heroe rests, in Contemplation lost.
The Wise, the Just
Achates set aside,
His Potent Foes at Court their Conquest pride;
Level new Measures into
Caesar's Ear,
All with a new and alter'd Face appear;
They whisper Counsels foreign to the Throne,
And slight its Interest, to secure their own.
Who rightly can of
Caesar's Actions sing?
Or how divide the Father from the King?
Oh! when in Crowds we cluster'd on the Strand,
And stood to see the Royal Exile land,
What welcom Shouts redoubl'd from the Shore!
The Dumb acquire a Speech unknown before.
The subtile Nerves Seraphick Joys declare,
Their Ports were open'd all to Tongue and Ear;
Our willing Hands beneath his Feet we lay,
And strew'd our very Hearts to pave his Way;
We wait the King with glorious Triumph home,
And all around Huzza'd,
Our Caesar's come.
Our
Albion's Ports no longer Chains endure,
They now are open'd all, the Sea secure;
The friendly Crews are to each other kind,
They know no Foes, but Rocks, & Sands, & Wind
From late discover'd Countries Shipping come,
And lave along, and bear their
Cargoes home:
Both
Indies hoist their Treasures on the Strands,
And
Peru courts us with its Golden Sands.
Neptune had now proclaim'd a general Peace,
And
Halcyon Murmurs calm the rufll'd Seas;
The People all to peaceful Thoughts incline,
Each Subject easie, stretch'd beneath his Vine;
The very Sons of
Mars forget their Jars,
Complain of Battels, and repent their Scars.
Religion now appear'd in Christian Prime,
Never more Primitive, or more Divine.
Daily new pompous Embassies resort,
Display their Foreign Glories at the Court:
And when the neighb'ring Princes rais'd fresh Jars,
To
Caesar it's referr'd—
For
Caesar holds the Scales of Peace and War.
What cou'd a Prince or People more desire?
Or lov'd or fear'd, whilst all the World admires.
What Pen can tell what jarring Seeds arose,
And urg'd the King and People to be Foes?
Who can disclose what Springs this Engine move?
If from below they're form'd, or from above?
They in obscure and close Recesses lie.
And bid a bold Defiance to the Eye.
It's possible what's Humane to define;
For what proceeds from Man, is short of what's Divine.
Why then let's trace these Causes to the Head;
For every Cause will to another lead,
Till by a strict Enquiry we descry
Where our invet'rate Foes relentless lie.
Proud conqu'ring
Rome of old, with bold Alarms,
Had forc'd the World a Vassal to its Arms;
Its tow'ring Eagles, in pursuit of Prey,
Thro' vast extended Kingdoms cut their Way;
Boundless its Aims, too covetous of Fame,
Too awful Terrors wait the
Roman Name;
Ev'n dreadful
Gaul did
Caesar's Grace implore,
Britannia bears a Yoke unknown before.
At length, beyond a common Compass grown,
Th' unwieldy Bulk of Greatness tumbl'd down.
Who can Eternal Destiny resist?
It fell, beneath its pond'rous Glories prest:
Complaining Nations take the quick Alarm,
And, to regain their ravish'd Freedoms, arm:
For,
Liberty's the Darling of Mankind,
All Nature's Choice, the Canon of the Mind.
Their drooping Eagles now forbid the Shore,
Our
Albion's Kings Paternal Scepters bore,
Succeeding Princes their just Rights maintain,
And know no more, they scorn'd the
Roman Chain.
Thus
Rome, when
Heathen, baffl'd, disappears,
Until the
Christian Pontiff mounts the Chair.
He'll to the Rebel-World new Arts disclose,
Urge back to
Rome its old revolted Foes;
Once more he'll bid at Universal All,
On the World's Ruins raise the
Capitol.
Preceding
Caesars aim'd their Shafts not right,
He, Eagle all, aspires a loftier Flight,
They only Tribute and Obedience claim'd,
By him the Soul, and Body, both are damn'd:
He'll have all Kingdoms at his rev'rend Beck,
Let loose the Reins of Pow'r, or curb, or check.
It's true, cou'd he this large Commission show,
The willing World wou'd to his Orders bow;
Cou'd he by dint of Text demonstrate this,
Or by a clear allow'd
Periphrasis,
He then might boast the Universe his own,
And sit Despotic on a
Christian Throne.
But if our God, imbody'd, did declare
No such reveal'd Decrees, such Statutes here,
Nor gave this large
Mandamus to his Chair,
Which by our Learn'd Reformers is deny'd,
Why does he in this Usurpation pride?
Let's give the Rev'rend Bishop what's his Due,
And yield to
Albion's Caesar all we owe.
Britannia long his Tyrannies did bear,
A
Bull was dreaded like a
Roman Spear;
How at a vain
Indulgence we rejoyce,
As if 't had been the Great Almighty's Voice!
One Pardon all preceding Crimes controul,
As sure they're cancell'd, as our Sins were foul.
Our Treasures all were open'd by his Keys,
He, for our Gold, presents us Toys to please,
Some useless Relicks, or as empty Praise.
Flocks of devouring Orders now resort
Like
Locusts fly about, & croak like
Frogs at Court.
Not ev'n the Chambers of our Princes free:
What slender Awe they pay to Majesty!
We saw a Monarch ravish'd from the Throne,
All his
Regalio's from his Shoulders torn,
His Scepter levell'd, and his Crown laid down;
Whilst impious Priests with flaming Whips appear,
With Furrows gall his Back, with Taunts his Ear.
In Common things our Senses must not guide,
A very Demonstration is deny'd;
For what we see, or hear, or taste, or feel,
Is false, because our Senses may beguile.
Thus down at
Romes proud Nod our Glories fell,
Involv'd in Troubles unaccountable.
At length the
British Lion glares around,
Prostrate he lay, and trembling on the Ground;
High o'er his Head the awful Lash appears,
Which his dissected Sides with Gashes tears:
Disdain, Revenge, and noble Fury join,
These all to rouze the
Heroe now combine:
He recollected, with a Native Pride,
How oft his Fortune had in Wars been try'd,
How many blushing Nations lost the Field,
How many Countries to his Scepter yield.
Besides—
He saw with pious Ken the Mask remov'd,
How little
Rome the True Religion lov'd;
What small Regard she paid to Things Divine;
A Medley all the rest, a meer Design:
He saw his People plum'd, supine, and tame,
And found a King a meer precarious Name.
W
th bold Resolves he from
Romes Throne retires,
Majestic stalks, whilst neighb'ring Kings admire.
Now
Romes approaching Ruine is at hand,
A just Destruction rages thro' the Land,
Keen Justice flashes in her Arms severe,
As a destroying Angel does appear.
Their Temples ruin'd, with their Mock-divine,
The Structure levell'd, did entomb the Shrine:
Down fell the Idol-Image at a Blow,
Nor cou'd the gilded Saint repel the Foe.
What impious Nests of Wickedness were found
In Cells conceal'd, and Cloyster'd under Ground!
A certain Signal of a coming Fall,
Too weak the
Basis to support the Wall:
The dark
Alcoves their sully'd Crimes display:
What Scenes of Holy Cheats are open'd to the Day!
In vain each Order did their Saints implore,
Like Sea-men in a Storm that crave the Shore,
They cannot hear, or can relieve no more.
Each Idol senseless as its Native Stone,
Unmov'd by Pray'rs, relentless to their Groans,
In wild Despair around they fiercely rage,
And seem the
Bacchanalians of the Age;
With new Efforts they echo loud Alarms,
And strive to save their perishing Gods by Arms.
Enraged
Caesar presses on his Foes,
And round the Field their slaughter'd Squadrons strows:
And now they curse the Land, and quit the Shore,
And bear those Pains they did inflict before:
So
Moses stretch'd o'er
Egypts Coasts his Wand,
And streight the
Frogs and
Locusts left the Land.
To
Italy these stormy
Novels come,
The banish'd Priests bear the sad Tidings home:
With what Amazement startl'd
Rome receives
The News, declining Tyrants may conceive:
What Pangs, what dreadful Horrors seise the Mind,
Like dismal Eddies, or tempestuous Wind.
A Conclave summon'd, strong Debates arose,
How to retrive, or to rebuke their Foes:
They cou'd not see with an indiff'rent Eye
Fair
Albion ravish'd from the
Roman See;
Too well they knew the Value of her Coasts,
Too choice a Purchase to be cheaply lost,
Too ill a Pattern this to be allow'd,
A Precedent not to be known abroad.
This
Omen threatn'd a worse future Fall:
A Breach neglected, fatal is to all.
With
Bulls they threaten fearful Things to come,
And give loud Cautions to prevent the Doom.
Their
Bulls call other Furies to their Aid,
To Death resolv'd
Britannia to invade;
Each Subject free, must no Allegiance pay,
He'll streight be Saint, cou'd he his Sov'reign slay.
In vain their Home-attempts, in vain they found
No Plot succeeds, still bassl'd, they lose Ground;
Their Hostile Fleets with blushing Loss retire,
Nor cou'd their Trains of Powder cherish Fire.
With pain
Rome sees our well-form'd Church out-vie
In Christian Truths her vain Idolatry;
Its Apostolick Luster shone too bright,
Its Beams were too Celestial for her Sight.
To fruitless purpose long she Arms had try'd,
She'll now essay the
Britans to divide;
To Craft and Hellish Arts sh'as now recourse,
By Wiles she'll compass where she fail'd by Force.
But who of
Albions Off-spring can relate
Our
Albions Woes, and this Reverse of Fate?
What Eagl'd
Rome cou'd not retain of old,
Nor Miter'd
Rome cou'd late with Force uphold,
This close Projection gains; we tamely yield,
And quit the plunder'd Glories of the Field.
Those very Men who oft in Dangers try'd,
Had seen wild Slaughter ghastly on their Side,
When Cannons thunder'd, & loud Deaths convey,
They'd force the Pass, and thither spur their Way:
These very Men to Noise and Rumour fall,
Emasculate they grow, enervate all.
Our War-like Youth, who like a Bulwark stood,
And Laurels cropp'd thro' many a Crimson Flood,
An
Heroe each their daring Acts declare,
Resolv'd and Brave, and Strangers all to Fear;
This Union broke, how resty now they're grown!
False to themselves, and Traytors to the Throne.
Now
Loyala's Sons their haughty Plumes do rear
Aloft, and threaten Ruine in the Air;
Like him, they're nurst in bloody Strife and Jars,
Religion is their Trade, and Gloss for Wars.
Our Christian Points too easie are, and tame,
Too soft a Subject, too submiss a Theme;
What
Jesus taught, and his Apostles told,
Like musty Rolls, are slighted, stale, and old;
They'll teach the World a Doctrine new and fine,
A certain Standard theirs, tho' not Divine.
In Swarms they put to Sea, and now appear
Like Sons of Love, and peaceful Olives bear.
How can
Britannia this Effort resist?
A God's betray'd when fawning
Judas kist.
They scatter now prepar'd Enchantments round,
As sure as Fate the silent Magick wounds;
Too many easie Subjects they disclose,
And list their Converts for their Countries Foes:
They whisper to the People monstrous Things,
And draw a dismal Landskip of a King.
They first their Int'rest touch w
th loud Complaint,
Th' expensive Court reduc'd the Land to want;
What needless Sums extravagantly thrown
Away, to buoy the Quarrels of the Throne;
Their large, luxurious, lazy Guards devour
More than old
Egypts meager Kine before;
In Times of Peace why shou'd a Prince command
An Army as a Scourge to curb the Land?
There's something ill design'd in such a Train,
A Boundless Pow'r he aims, an Arbitrary Reign.
Why shou'd a Prince be so divinely fear'd?
Pray why this Deity so much rever'd?
Why shou'd we tremble at his awful Nod?
A Man is sure distinguish'd from a God.
Come, let's engage, and first the Court reform,
Cut thro' that Wave, you'll quickly stem the Storm.
This Cant prevails, the kindl'd Beacons blaze,
A specious
Harangue spoken w
th a
Patriots grace.
But now a loftier Flight their Pinions soar,
They'l claw their Conscience, as their Chests before.
How can the
Christians mute and stupid stand,
View such Pollutions stain the Holy Land?
What uncouth Gods at Court they now adore!
More hideous far than late at
Rome before.
They've laid a
Basis for a
Babels Pile,
And scatter sad Confusion thro' the Isle.
Was e'er Religion in Contempt like this?
They've shot a Random-Bolt, and aim'd amiss.
With Grief the Land will this Devotion mourn,
Already ev'n to
Rome they now return.
The murm'ring Tribes of Desart-Wilds complain,
And covet
Egypts Onyons once again;
They backwards look with a relenting Eye,
Once more desirous of their Slavery.
Some Pious Souls in this wild Breach must stand,
And stop impending Ruine from the Land;
They vainly of a Reformation boast,
If we reform no more, the Nation's lost;
Their
Hierarchy's an undigested Thing,
As loose its
Canons, as in Vice its King:
Ah! where's its Purity, its Primitive Force?
They're as before, or chang'd from bad to worse;
They're not enough from impious
Rome remov'd;
This Zeal by you must further be improv'd,
Or
Christian Piety will soon decay,
Or they'll to
Antichrist become an easie Prey.
You as the Stars i'th'
Galaxy must shine,
You the true
Puritans, you all Divine.
Go to, let's set our Shoulders to the Lead,
Let's cultivate this Vineyard of the Lord.
It's ominous, they say, when Wolves unfold
Strange Mysteries, and teach the trembling Fold.
What will not Interest, with mistaken Zeal,
Affect, or dare? The Bait does seldom fail;
This Holy Gloss fair Entertainment finds,
And sows Dissenting Seeds in wav'ring Minds;
The baneful Hemlock scatters o'er the Shore,
Which still an impious Race of Fools devour;
Their undiscerning Heads begin to stray,
And in Confusion quit the beaten Way.
Thus crafty Gen'rals, when they'd storm a Town,
And make the stubborn Citadel their own,
With cunning Feints draw off the potent Foe,
Divide their Arms, then give the conq'ring Blow.
Oh foolish
Albion! whither dost thou run?
Eager for Fate, and hot to be undone,
To thy Destruction and unguarded Tool,
Cully'd to Foreign Streams thy Thirst to cool?
Ev'n
Manna cloys, and such Celestial Food;
Thou tempt'st the very Patience of a God,
And into Serpents turn'st thy
Moses Rod.
Shoals of unthinking Fry these Anglers caught,
And reap an Harvest larger than their Thought;
They wave their Sickles in the burden'd Field,
New Barns, and new Repositories build;
They join their Voices with the giddy Crowd,
And 'midst the noisie
Mobb they bellow'd loud.
This Game secur'd, sublimer Flights they take;
Our Gentry, and our Nobles they infect:
These, where a Court-Preferment is deny'd,
Or any other Curb that checks their Pride,
Disgusts to Persons, or in private Things,
Turn them to Malecontents against the King;
Besides, of Parties to be stil'd an Head,
Surnam'd a Champion, and their Force to lead,
There's something in't that courts ambitious Eye,
A Shade or Emblem it's of Majesty;
Desire of Rule's the Birthright of the Mind,
The Load-stone that attracts all Humane Kind.
They need no more; the Rockets mount the Air
High as they fly, they build their Castles there;
How quick these Machins with the Wyre-works move!
They curse the King with Blasphemies to
Jove:
Impiety and Treason now they bawl,
The Goverment of Church and State must fall;
There's no Reprieve, the Malefactors die,
Severe enough their Crimes, no Remedy;
Not
Gileads Balm cou'd give Relief in this,
Together both must suffer, both remiss.
For Arms the pregnant Multitude prepare,
Dissenting Nobles head the Beasts to War;
Alike their Cause, a woful Ruine comes;
Alike they're both prepar'd to sign each others Dooms.
And now
Romes Musick rattles thro' the Isle,
Our
Albions Blood does
Albions Fields defile;
The
Britans meet each other in the Field,
Make Death familiar, but untaught to yield;
The fertile Plains manur'd with
English Gore,
Produce a tinctur'd Crop unknown before;
Heroes on either Side for War they stood,
And bid Definance to each others Blood.
Pity such Souls resolv'd shou'd thus engage:
A Curse on
Rome for this, and this Phanatic Rage.
The Royal Party does at last retire,
Makes its Retreat in Dust, and Smoak, and Fire:
So, after Twelve laborious noble Toils,
Th'
Olympic Heroe raves, and raving falls;
On
Oetas Mount his fatal Hour he found,
He fell, with ruin'd Oaks, and stately Trees around.
But stay, my Muse, relate the blackest Scene
That yet the World e'er saw, or must again;
The Best of Kings, of Men ignobly slain.
So the retreating Sun does disappear,
And gilds with bloody Streaks the Hemisphere.
The drowsie Poppy shrivel'd up his Head,
Droop'd at the Sight, and in a Sleep fell dead:
Th' astonish'd Herds o'er all the Plains did rove,
And in disorder'd Terrors told their Love;
The Echo's moan'd and sigh'd in ev'ry Grove.
No Laurels now wou'd in
Britannia stand,
But Woods of Cypress crowd in ev'ry Hand:
Heav'ns Eye, as tho' asham'd to see the Sight,
In Royal Azure mourn'd, and skreen'd the Light:
The Christian
Heroe fell their Sacrifice;
What Expiatory Off'ring can suffice?
A Train of captiv'd Martyrs now succeed,
A Loyal Guard does with their Sov'reign bleed:
So Days bright Lord does from our Sight retire,
Sinks in Abyss of Night, and all its Beams expire.
Too brave, too just for Crimes, these Nobles fall,
And on that barb'rous Age a Blush entail.
Our Prelates hurry'd to untimely End,
Their injur'd Lord, and these great Minds attend,
They stain with flowing Blood the guilty Stage,
And,
Stephen-like, forgive the impious Age.
One Victim's slaughter'd from the Eagle's Nest,
Daring and as Heroick as the Best;
Too noble Thoughts possess'd his Warlike Soul,
To join the Scepter with the Brewer's Bowl:
He fell bemoan'd in an unhallow'd Town,
Like the Great Martyr he his Blood laid down.
One Worthy let our Numbers recommend,
True to his King, his Country, and his Friend.
This
Christian Soldier in the Heat of War
Was both to
Mars, and to
Apollo dear;
His Learning and his Courage did afford
An equal Aid, he fought with Pen and Sword.
Rome and
Geneva were alike to him,
The Foes were adequate, alike the Theme.
Let
Latham be a Witness of his Fame,
And
Bolton tremble at his awful Name.
The surly Foe besieg'd a Country-house,
A
Heroine and
Heroe they enclose:
The Walls were slender, and the Works but young;
But all within was Proof, and all was strong:
They shelter'd all beneath his Warlike Care,
The Garrison ne'er trembl'd at the War:
The Soldiers few, yet faithful to their Head;
They knew no Odds, when his great Conduct led.
A noisie Mortar did loud Ruine threat,
And in the Air proclaim'd approaching Fate:
No known Defence cou'd guard th' impending Blow,
It scatter'd sure Destruction all below.
He sallies, and the bold Invader flies,
Within the Gates he bears the ravish'd Prize;
Succeeding actions still advance his Fame,
He in Immortal Annals bears a Name.
Who can distinguish what is Good or Ill,
Where Law's establish'd by a boundless Will?
Observe what Consequences now attend:
Preceding Ills succeeding Faults ne'er mend.
As only one Absurdity allow'd,
You'll streight disclose a long depending Crowd.
These
Romish Tools now vaunt the Field their own,
Their scatter'd
Trophies are the Church & Throne;
Involv'd in Guilt, and all defil'd with Gore,
They teach the World strange Crimes, unlearn'd before:
Mercy it self cou'd no Forgiveness own,
It blush'd a Pardon for such Crimes unknown,
Till then unknown, till those unhappy Days,
When Yew and Cypress justl'd out the Bays.
No other Means their Counsels can propose
Of Safety, but the Ruine of their Foes;
A thorow Extirpation is decreed,
Each Individual of the Whole must bleed.
This Reformation must the Land atone,
Stand still, or to retreat, they're sure to be undone.
What cou'd Young
Caesar in this Juncture do?
No Humane Strength cou'd match th'insulting Foe;
His Loyal Friends in sad Effigie lay,
The dismal Ruins of a routed Day:
Some faithful Few with him to Exile fly,
And wait a more propitious Destiny;
They leave the Isle, and trust to Seas and Wind,
To Seas than Rebels were at home more kind.
From this forc'd Flight we date succeeding Woes,
Which Time in After-ages will disclose.
What dreaded Dangers these wild Zealots fear'd,
And all the Brain-sick
Babels they had rear'd,
Distracted Notions of returning
Rome,
And how a boundless Sway design'd their Doom,
These Terrors all, by this ill Fact alone,
They antidate, and make them all their own;
On unborn Tribes th'entail a woful Fate,
Their Teeth are edg'd w
th Grapes their Fathers eat.
Achates now was in his Bloom of Years,
Had run thro' all the Stages of the Wars;
The Valiant Youth by daring
Caesar's Side
In Battels oft, and Sieges, had been try'd;
By Land, or Sea, no Danger cou'd subdue;
Achates faithful was, to
Caesar's Interest true.
He left the Isle with his retreating Lord,
And try'd more hospitable Coasts abroad.
The
Genius quits the Land; a sad Presage,
An
Omen boading Ill unto the Age.
With Joy transported, hateful
Rome surveys
Our Civil Broils, and bless'd th' inhumane Days:
Ignatius Brood was to their Master dear,
Those impious, tragick Instruments of War;
An Order now establish'd and enroll'd,
Like Comets beaming Mischief to the World:
What Joys did not their Expectations yield,
Romes Granaries with
Albions Harvest fill'd!
Already in
Idea they embrace
The Land, and re-assume their Ancient Place;
'Twas nearer than a Possibility,
They had the full Assurance in their Eye:
They've now a Game of vast import to play,
This Cast well manag'd wins a glorious Day.
What subtile Machins for this End combine!
They muster all their Force, and in one Body join.
With equal Joy
Rome and the Rebels saw
The Monarch banish'd, and the Sword the Law:
Yet diff'rent Aims these present Joys attend,
Alike tho' pleas'd, yet opposite the End.
Ajax at home claims All to be his own,
Profanes with vulgar Mud the ravish'd Throne,
Defies the Int'rest of a wand'ring Prince,
Bankrupt he's lost, for ever banish'd thence;
The
Basis deep, a daring Pile he rears,
The Crown's Entail'd for endless rouling Years.
But other Movements did
Romes Joys create,
She laughs at this Mock-Pageantry of State,
Another Prospect charms her roving Eye,
She careless saw this mimick'd Majesty,
Already saw the bold Usurper down,
Foresaw on
Caesar's Head the rifl'd Crown;
She ey'd the Prince forlorn on Foreign Coasts,
Ev'n to himself, and to his Country lost,
In Spring of Youth, and Blossom of his Years,
Scarce early Down upon his Face appears;
A proper Season this to be embrac'd,
To stamp her Doctrines on his easie Breast,
And raze all other Principles imprest:
She view'd his Friends that round his Person stand,
They're Nobles all, or Chiefs that rule the Land:
This Goal she aims, and this contended Prize,
This Game the Thoughts of crafty
Rome employs.
Her Temples now with gawdy Luster shine,
And splendid Beauties deck each artful Shrine;
Her graceful Paint exalted Colours shew,
By
Titian's Pencial drawn, or
Angelo;
Her Altars all Imperial did appear,
And Tuneful Lays invite the ravish'd Ear;
Her Priests in Robes beyond a
Tyrian Dye
Their Rites perform, and awful court the Eye;
All that con'd please, or cou'd allure the Sense,
With utmost Pomp and Grandeur they dispense.
Her next Advance is to pervert his Mind,
A
Medium for the Project she design'd;
She whispers to his Thoughts his Countries Crimes
And aggravates the Mischiefs of the Times,
The sad Effects of Civil Broils runs o'er,
Draws blushing Lines with his dead Father's Gore;
She represents the
Hydra of the Land
A monstrous Beast, untam'd to all Command;
That daily new blasphemous Heads appear,
And all around with wild Destruction tear;
Th' establish'd Church enervate grown, and weak,
A rising Faction cou'd destroy, or break;
Its
Canons were not Proof against its Foes,
Its
Basis mean, did the whole Work expose.
Cou'd such a Fabrick be from Wrongs secure?
Cou'd it tempestuous Shocks of Storms endure?
When its Foundation's not on Rock, but Sand,
Its Fall was sure, its Ruine now at Hand;
These Troubles from the first Reformers spring,
They were but Tools to an incensed King;
From lawless Lust the Quarrel first began,
Succeeding Int'rest now the War maintains.
They never can a Pious Union know,
Whilst Holy Church is treated as a Foe.
Look round, observe our strict Conformity;
All Schism we and factious Zeal defie:
In distant Regions the same Faith we own,
One Mother-Church, and one Religion known.
The
Pope is not that Brute they represent,
His Call is Sacred sure, from Heav'n he's sent;
He does not make a King a Scepter'd Slave,
He ne'er destroys the Right that Nature gave;
The Civil Rights he leaves in Trust with them,
In Matters Sacred only he's Supreme.
And this Commission was transmitted down
To him from
Peter, by th' Almighty's Son.
Come, injur'd Prince, return to us once more,
Our alter'd Sons bring back, again restore
Its ancient Rule to your revolted Land,
And know your Pow'r again, and once again command.
One People then in one known Faith you'll rule,
And all your Rebels monstrous Gods controul:
A Train of Gods as num'rous they adore
As all the Heathen
Pagods were before;
Their sawcy Zeal will urge the King to yield,
Command his Bow to ev'ry Form they build;
Or else for Arms the jangling Beasts prepare,
And 'gainst the Throne proclaim Confed'rate War.
Our Treasures shall assist you in your Cause,
To gain your Native Rights, the blasted Laws;
Your
Albion shall be famous as of old,
And your Illustrious Acts in future Annals told.
What cannot Words effect in youthful Minds,
Where want of Power pleads, and promis'd Succor blinds?
Rome knows how best to perfect Holiness,
When e'er she finds a Monarch in distress:
It is not Faith can reach St.
Peter's Key,
Distress directs the Prince the narrow Way;
For Kings with ease ascend the Heav'nly Throne,
Whilst they possess and boldly keep their own.
Our
Caesar cou'd have answer'd every Head,
Cou'd have retorted to each Plea they made:
Their Doctrines were not, nor their Arts unknown,
Britannia had well taught her darling Son;
She scorn'd like Mushrom-births her Sons to breed,
Confin'd to partial Authors as their
Creed:
A Latitude she gives, a Noble Field,
Inform your self, and teach the Foe to yield.
Her Truths in bright Meridian Luster shine,
Seek no Retreat, for Truth is all Divine:
Howe'er resolv'd, he wisely shuns Debate,
In pious Silence waits his alter'd Fate.
Yet neither to accuse him, nor defend,
These Consequences their ill Arts attend;
He cou'd not but behold with youthful Fire
These luring Beams of Greatness, and admire;
He does with equal Bent of Humane Kind
Make strict Enquiries to inform the Mind.
The Humane Soul Variety pursues,
We all,
Athenian-like, still ask for News:
Besides the Pleasures that enveagle Sense,
Their kind Deportments to an exil'd Prince,
His pressing Wants luxurious they supply,
He cou'd not think to ask what they'd deny:
These things cou'd not with careless eyes be view'd,
They must command a common Gratitude;
Thus
Caesar stood not wholly lost to
Rome,
Yet cou'd not Conquest boast, nor was he overcom.
But young
Caesario was of softer Make,
Too soon, alas! th' envenom'd Bait he takes,
Their soothing Arts upon his Youth impose,
He falls a pity'd Victim to his Foes:
Rome eager hugs this Darling of a Prize,
He falls an easie, innocent Sacrifice.
Britannia's Hopes were blasted in the Youth,
Too lately learn'd, too soon he quits the Truth;
For ever lost to her, he's all their own,
And dates succeeding Troubles on the Throne.
She shak'd her Head at this unwelcome Day,
And mourn'd to see the Royal Youth a Prey;
Foresaw him mount, and tumble from his Throne,
Foresaw new bloody Broils amongst her Sons;
Beyond Prevention the Disease goes on,
Nothing but
Albious Blood can
Abions Crimes atone.
Rome with redoubl'd Crafts repeats her Blows,
And strange Infection all around she throws:
Just as
Caesario fell, some Nobles fall;
The same Allurements them as him enthrall:
But yet, to give
Achates what's his Due,
He saw, unshaken, all this pompous Shew;
In vain their sly Temptations storm his Mind,
He was for greater Ends by Fate design'd;
He was to give in greatest Troubles Aid,
When Ruine threatn'd, and loud Storms invade:
He on these fixt Decrees compos'd above
Still kept his Eye, and only courted
Jove.
At length the Stars, propitious all, combine,
And for our
Albion's great Deliv'rance join;
Their Influence drops a sure approaching Fate,
And to bold
Ajax's Rule consigns a Date.
A poysonous Gust out of a gloomy Den,
Where the Suns gilded Beams had never been;
Scren'd all the Air in its Meridian Light,
And turn'd the azure Day to sable Night,
On ratling Wings destructive Whirlwinds roar,
A Storm a Stranger to the Isle before,
Bears the Usurper to the
Stygian Shore.
Trees all around with kind'ling light'ning Fire,
In Storms he liv'd, in Thunder he expires,
Amaz'd his Party stood, th'astonish'd Isle,
In strange Convulsions stagger'd for a while;
Untaught distraction reigns in ev'ry Face,
Their Eyes with wild distorted glowings blaze.
Sense cou'd not their disorder'd Thoughts controul,
The Chaos cou'd not be reduc'd to Rule;
Their strugling Atoms, like
Lucretius World,
For a long time into no Order whirl'd;
At last they jump'd into a giddy Form,
And mount a Soul that wants a Royal turn;
Ʋlysses from the Northern Marshes came,
Fatigu'd his Squadrons, and unknown his Aim,
He stems this Tide, and this impetuous Flood,
Our hopes were answer'd all, the Man was good,
They saw too late their Error in the choice,
And call for
Caesar with a general Voice.
Ajax's fierce Troops that knew not how to fly,
Or us'd to Conquest, or were taught to die,
Stun'd w
th their guilt, their
weapons cou'd not weild,
But quit their Trophies, and the boasted Field,
Unanimous for
Caesar all declare,
Reflect with Grief on a dishonest War.
Now
Caesar comes on Board, the
Nereids play
About the Ship, and wanton in the Sea;
Young Cupids fan him with their Wings above,
And with their Breezes whisper Tales of Love;
Neptune conducts the Vessel to the Shore;
He had confin'd the unruly Storms before,
But sends soft
Zephyr's Gales to wing his way,
Curl on the Waves, and with the Streamers play.
The Hero now steps on th' expecting Strand,
The Hearts of all his People he commands;
Their grateful Shouts fill all the ambient Air,
Redouble, and produce new Thunder there:
An Army ready in a brave array,
Their polish'd Arms add lustre to the Day,
They're faithful all, and fearless of a Foe,
Where-ever
Caesar bids to March they go.
Profuse our Conduits run with sparkling Wine,
We almost quite exhaust the gen'rous Vine;
Eternal Healths compose an endless Ring,
Perpetual Voices cry,
God save the King.
Caesar does now with native Glories shine,
No borrow'd Beams adorn the Royal Line;
Beneath his Feet his prostrate Rebels bow,
The Church and State in their old Channels flow,
And once again their lawful Sovereign know.
So when loud Storms desert the ruffl'd Seas,
The raging Billows are again at peace,
They mildly settle as the Winds retreat,
With weakned force the hardy Shores they beat,
Serene the Trident Rules the pleasant Main,
The Surface all is Calm, and smiles again.
Cou'd Mankind pry into the Book of Fate,
And in it here and there exchange a Date,
This Happiness had surely been entail'd
On us, and ours, or Fate it self had fail'd.
As much of Bliss as human Souls can know,
As much as Organs can receive below,
Britannia now enjoys. —
Tell me, my Muse, where the Miscarriage lies,
Without the
Codex of the distant Skies;
Too obvious the Poyson does appear,
It scatters sad Contagion thro' the Air;
We need not dive too deep, nor soar too high,
It shows it self to each enquiring Eye.
Caesar was now to manly Vigour grown,
And sate unrival'd on his native Throne;
But in himself his Species was confin'd,
No Propagation of a Royal Kind,
Latent they rest, as Seeds in Chaos lay,
E're primitive Matter had produc'd a Day.
In Close Cabals
Rome does her Measures take,
How to direct, and manage well this Stake.
Caesar at best a wavering Faith did show,
He neither was a certain Friend nor Foe;
His Church was re-instated as before,
But of
Rome's Claims he nothing did restore;
The slowness of his Steps she cou'd not bear,
The young
Caesario now is all her Care;
Was
Caesar rightly match'd, a coming Son,
Wou'd quite exclude her ripening Hopes the Throne,
She then might yield the Game, her Harvest lost,
Like Vessels dash'd and Shipwrack'd on the Coast;
She every Model tries, at length does rear,
A rising Fabrick answering all her Care;
Too strong her Faction did at Court prevail,
It was beyond
Achates Power to heal.
The Royal Choice does on the Billows ride,
And now to
Caesar's Arms present the Bride:
But ah! th' unhappy Soil was barren grown,
Like fruitless
Libya scorch'd by too much Sun.
Caesar's Endeavours and our Hopes were vain,
The ungrateful Glebe makes no returns again.
No pregnant Show'rs cou'd urge a smiling Bloom,
No ripen'd Sheafs by all the Tillage come.
But this defect was not on
Caesar's side;
'Twas not his Fault this Blessing was deny'd.
For other Mothers did the Nation grace,
With numerous Births and worthy
Caesar's Race;
One pity'd Son compos'd of too much flame,
His Thoughts too Royal, too sublime his Aim,
With daring Pinions soar'd too nigh the Sun,
Sing'd in his Beams, he fell and was undone.
For young
Caesario a fit Mate was found,
Ten Thousand quiver'd Cupids learn to wound.
Tho' Royalty did in her Birth not shine,
The Father still enobles all the Line.
And now
Britannia's hopes were center'd here,
New dawning Joys to future Times appear,
How vain are all th'Efforts of human kind!
How many wild Projections are design'd!
In Fates dark Legends how unread is Man,
Lost in the Dusk, he makes essays in vain,
At her own Weapons worsted
Rome falls down,
Which after Generations will make known.
Prudent
Achates with himself Debates,
Wisely to play this After-Game of State.
The Royal Issue's his peculiar Care;
He was of all the
Romish Wiles aware,
And with unerring Judgment scap'd the Snare.
He urg'd the gen'ral Council of the Land,
Early to constitute a faithful Band,
A Guard reform'd might their young years improve
And for th' establish'd Church engage their Love;
Our Learned Prelates in the Task engage,
And fence these tender Blooms from
Romish Rage,
Nor cou'd a Father's powerful Arts withdraw,
Religion is above Paternal Awe;
The Snakes thus perish'd by
Alcmena's Boy,
He in the Cradle
Juno's Rage destroys,
So
Rome was baffl'd, and her Projects crost,
And all her Hopes in these fair Blossoms lost,
But she's too resty to be thus o'ercome,
A bolder stroke she bids a daring Doom,
Antaeus like, tho' foil'd, she bounds from Earth,
And with the Fall renews both strength and breath.
The Jesuits in Consultation joyn,
Dare they profane that Name with such designs!
Strait to their Aid they all the Furies call,
T'assist them in the Ruine of the whole;
Chameleon like in ev'ry Shape they're found,
Lurking in close disguise they aim to wound.
Flames, Envy, Murther, in their Breasts recoil,
In ev'ry Vein their furious Passions boil,
Eager they carry on this grand Debate,
How to secure themselves and fix a Seat.
Then thus they argue —
If e'er our Arts for Mother Church prevail,
We must their whole united Pow'rs assail;
For if we spare a part, the stubborn Crew,
Like
Hydra's Heads, still as they're lop'd will grow.
High as the Pyramids let's raise each Pile,
On which the baneful Hereticks must broil;
And with these cover all
Britannia's Isle,
No other Clouds shall darken then the Skies,
But those which from our hallow'd Fires arise,
This only will compleat the Sacrifice.
Were these the Doctrines
Jesus did declare?
Or recommended to th' Apostles here?
Sure all he Taught was more Divine and Good,
His Tenets never were defil'd with Blood,
His Blood sufficient for more World's than these,
It did for Sin th' Almighty's Wrath appease;
For lost Mankind his sacred Drops suffice,
A Christians Blood to him's an Impious Sacrifice.
But they defie all Laws of God and Man,
A contradictory
Thesis they maintain.
They cast their Eyes on their most Christian Son,
A Bigot he by Birth, he's all their own,
He had not Will or Pow'r to retreat,
From
Rome's proud Lash, 'twas not decreed by Fate;
Some weak Endeavours by his Subjects try'd,
Were baffl'd all, they fell the weaker side,
How can the People act without a King?
Their giddy Thoughts a vast disorder bring;
They found him all Imperial for their Aim,
A warlike Soul he bore and courted Fame.
His zeal for Mother-Church was strong and good,
His Youth was ripen'd with his Subjects Blood.
Rough Persecution thro' his Kingdom flies,
Whoe'er's a Foe to
Rome must turn or die;
His wandring Vassals leave their cruel Home,
And all around to neighbouring Countries roam,
Such bloody Decalogues he does declare,
More terrible than
Sinai's Thunders were.
Their Aims were now this Champion to espouse,
Confirm him strong, to Rival all their Foes;
And when their Projects had acquir'd an Head,
And mighty
Caesar number'd with the Dead,
Caesario might a potent Succour find,
For all the Revolutions he design'd:
They by their Force united might destroy,
The hated, stubborn, Northern Heresie.
Too easie Means they found to gain their Ends,
Some
Britains false to us, to them were Friends;
Their ready Tools prepar'd assistance bring,
False to their Faith, their Country, and their King.
We held a Bulwark near the briny Tide,
Our
Albion's Strength, her Glory, and her Pride;
This Fortress curb'd the Pow'r of
Gallic Kings,
A certain refuge for our Canvas Wings.
Here mighty Piles of
British Bones you see,
High as the Pyramids in
Egypt be,
Which our bold Soldiers for their Country lost,
And joyn'd the Continent to
Albion's Coast.
The
Gauls cou'd never, were this Hold our own,
Insult the Ocean with their
Rising-Sun:
We then unrival'd might Command the Main,
Old hoary
Neptune and his Sea-born Train,
Wou'd court no Friend but the
Royal-Sovereign.
Their trembling Ports might hear our Cannon roar,
Rage thro' the Land, and reach the frighted Loure.
This Bulwark's yielded to the aspiring Foe,
For a sinall Cargo brought from
Mexico.
This ravish'd Prize from large
Iberia torn,
Does now the
Gallick Diadem adorn.
What Man cou'd do
Achates did perform,
Prov'd all his Int'rest to divert the Storm.
He represented to the Court the Shame,
Of Injur'd Honour, and our tarnish'd Fame;
How little it wou'd look to Foreign Kings,
Besides the present Mischief that it brings.
What Folly 'twas to Arm, so near, a Foe,
This certain, this well-manag'd Game to throw
Away, distracted Conduct it wou'd show.
If in the
Gallic Scale this Weight we lay,
It wou'd
Britannia's Ballance quite out-weigh.
The Disadvantage doubles on our side,
Our Strength is weaken'd, and the Foe supply'd.
All Arguments he urg'd the Theme cou'd bear,
He urg'd in vain, for
Caesar wou'd not hear.
Ah! who can dive into the Faults of Kings?
But Ruine surely from such Conduct springs.
Now, what returns can recompence this Day?
This blooming Fortune, this auspicious Prey?
Gallia as grateful for this Point appears,
As those that pay a gratitude thro' fear,
What e'er they give, th' Intentions to destroy,
And send a Present with a base Alloy.
Fair
Julia comes, surrounded all with Charms,
Ten Thousand Cupids wait her with their Arms:
So
Venus entertains the God of War,
And all his Martial Terrors disappear;
This finish'd piece of Beauty and of Parts,
Was worthy
Caesar's Joys, and
Gallia's Arts.
So
Thracian Planets with destructive Beams,
From gloomy Caves invite the Rural Swains,
Whilst they admire their Aspects and Grandeur,
Each Star becomes their Executioner.
Rome now in Triumph bounds it o'er the Field,
New ripening Joys succeeding Projects yield.
Caesario is the sole ascendant grown,
And points determin'd Measures to the Throne;
To close Cabals his active Friends resort,
They palm unjust Decrees upon the Court;
Through all the Land their wild Chimera's fly,
And court each lift'ning Ear, each eager Eye.
Luxurious Vice corrupts the Fountain head,
O'er all the Plains the troubl'd Waters spread.
Nature with Largess gives abundant Store,
We with voracious Lusts the Stock devour;
Affront the very Blessings Heav'n bestows,
Press on, and Sin, and antidate our Woes.
No thoughts of Native Greatness court the Mind,
Alter'd, we're grown a strange degenerate kind,
In bold Debauch contending to outvie,
Whilst useful Arts and Arms neglected lie.
So Vice and Ruine rag'd thro'
Israel's Sons,
Till
Phinchas with bold Justice did atone.
Achates ey'd the Mischiefs of the Times,
A Friend to
Caesar he, a Foe to Crimes.
He did not tamely with the Torrent glide,
But with wise Conduct bore against the Tide.
He now well read in all the Crafts of State,
Essays
Rome's Inundation to divert,
And like a careful Pilot steady Steers;
The Sails are manag'd with each Gale to veer;
And tho' oppos'd by Storms, he's distant bore,
He aims his Port, and urges to the Shore.
He saw how
Caesar was dissolv'd in Ease;
No other but
Caesario's Counsels please.
The Land compleat in Libertinism grown,
Drew aukard Patterns from the erring Throne,
That ev'ry Day our Rival's gather head,
And by our own Contrivance potent made.
The
Gallic strength to an amazing height
Of Greatness grown, despis'd each neighbouring State,
At pleasure stoop'd and seiz'd th' unequal Prey,
Thro' many conquer'd Countries cut its way.
The Kingdom to unruly Ferment's grown,
Forms different Parties ev'ry where at home,
Caesario's courted as the rising Sun;
By his, all other Factions were outdone:
He saw a
Belgic War severely rage,
Knew on what slender Grounds we did engage;
Too well he knew the origine and rise,
To
Rome and
Gaul a grateful Sacrifice.
The latter plays an
Ambodexter's Game,
Yet seems t'espouse the Quarrel on the Main,
Views our Engagements, and retreats again.
Now Wars abroad, and Pestilence at home,
Rage, as if Heav'n it self had sign'd our Doom.
Heaps upon heaps of putrid Corps lay dead,
In ev'ry Street a gastly Landskip spread;
Malignant Atoms in the Air abound,
Invisible the Fates, they silent wound;
Yet angry Vengeance does pursue us higher,
Punish'd by Sickness first, and then by Fire.
A Tawny'd Light enfsam'd the kindl'd Air,
And all the Stars in Blushes did appear;
Vast Globes of rowling Flame ascend on high,
You'd think the Cyclops had engag'd the Sky,
And from their scalding loud
Aetnaean Forge,
Did all their large Artillery disgorge.
An Heap confus'd the City now appear'd,
Not e'en the Temples with their Altars spar'd;
But once again more stately it revives,
And from its Ashes
Phoenix like it lives.
Achates to the War procures a Date,
And strives by Leagues to buttress up the State,
To check the Grandeur of insulting
Gaul;
For this he founds and rearsa triple Wall.
Now
Rome it self in Politicks outdone,
Curses the Day, and this strong Union mourns.
Too well she knew her darling Son too weak,
By force of Arms this solemn Pact to break,
Nor he, nor she, nor her
Caesario more,
Cou'd with dilated Pinions farther soar.
This
Gordian Knot, too firm and closely ty'd,
She cou'd not loose, nor knew she to divide.
She curst the subtile Authors of this League,
The close Projectors of this dark Intrigue.
Now ev'ry Head was sill'd with large employ,
Vast were their Aims this Union to destroy:
This Triple League they sludy to confound;
This League cemented with so strict a Bond.
Close were these Arts of
Rome, and deeply laid'
If e'er Infallible in this, she's made.
She to
Caesario comes, and summons all
Her Missionaries to a dark Cabal:
Then thus began —
Too well, my Pious Son, you know the Fate,
That calls us hither to this grand Debate.
Too well the subtile Machines we disclose,
That thwart our Ends, and our Designs oppose.
Thus far our great Endeavours have been vain,
To bring lost
Albion to our selves again.
The Hereticks out-wing us with Design,
And with their impious Force Confederate join.
A Triple Bulwark of the
Northern Crowns,
Checks all the Holy Measures we laid down.
Who knows how soon Invasion may be made?
Encourag'd with Success they will proceed;
Urge
Caesar to revoke the Prize they've won,
Or you, and I, and
Gallia are undone.
Caesario answers with a Statesman's Smile,
Their Steps I will obstruct, their Arts beguile.
Let
Caesar's Change be my peculiar Care,
I'll whisper new Instructions in his Ear:
And since the
Britain's rashly stem my Aim,
I'll own, and will avow for
Rome my flame.
Thro'
Neptune's wide Commands our
Fleets shall go,
And ferret our Confederate
Northern Foe:
And when these Pow'rs thus twisted are destroy'd,
Albion can ne'er her dated Doom avoid;
Thro' these forbidden Alps we'll cut our way,
And late Posterity shall bless the Day.
They rise, and to their Dividends resort,
Try all prevailing Parties at the Court,
Achates was essay'd, too just to yield,
He cou'd not be perswaded, nor compel'd,
Caesario courts,
Achates he denies;
From hence his Indignation did arise.
They're baffl'd, and ignobly quit the Ground,
Their vain Efforts but small Impression found.
Caesar unmov'd wou'd no Remonstrance hear,
To Winds they argu'd all, and courted Air.
Oh! had he but his Honour thus maintain'd,
His Name succeeding Errors ne'er had stain'd;
His wond'rous Deeds all Pandects wou'd rehearse,
He'd challeng'd an Eternity in Verse.
But one important Cast they've yet to play,
A strong reserve remains to win the Day.
A splendid Feast prepar'd adorns the Board,
Julia to this invites her Captiv'd Lord.
Nature and Art, profusely met, combine,
To manage well this last and great Design.
All Delicacies brought by Land or Seas,
Or Air, invite each Sense, and learn to please.
They ravish clusters from the generous Vine,
And press the blushing Grapes to yield their Wine.
All
India's Aromaticks grace the Feast;
And Odours gather'd from remotest
East:
The Minstrels with soft Musick strike the Ear,
Melodious Lays resound in trembling Air.
Now
Julia enters, all adorn'd with Gem,
A Fabrick worthy the World's Diadem.
If Beauty was the Birthright of a Throne,
Julia might challenge all the World her own:
If Conduct be to Government a Pride,
Julia had that securely on her side:
Her Arts succeeded where the Statesmen fail'd,
Where they despair'd, her crafty Lures prevail'd.
Caesar Resolves her conquering Graces quell,
For Beauty is a Charm invincible:
It's only hers to think, to Ask and have:
She leads the easie Monarch as her Slave.
Roxana's wonderous Charms did thus conspire,
To set the fam'd
Persepolis on Fire:
Thus
Anthony the slighted World defies,
A Martyr falls to
Cleopatra's Eyes.
Thus
Judah's Champion in th'unequal Strife,
Loses his Hair, and Strength, and Eyes, and Life.
Achates found his toil'd Endeavours vain,
The Structure he had rear'd destroy'd again.
A thousand wild Disorders now come on,
A strange confusion rattles round the Throne:
Contemn'd abroad, and hated here at home,
It threatens like an universal Doom:
He saw it was in vain to stem the Flood,
No Counsels cou'd be heard for
Albion's Good:
The present Age he now resigns to Fate,
But makes provision for a future Date.
Caesario's eldest Hopes to ripeness grown,
At Court like some bright Constellation shone;
A dawning Star that promis'd Succour near
To the distress'd despairing Mariner.
He saw
Augustus as a rising Sun,
Had in his
East a glorious Course begun,
Pursuing Honour with an eager chace,
His Actions worthy his Illustrious Race:
A Curb to Tyrants he, and
Gallic Pride,
Fortune he kept imprison'd on his side.
This Match he for
Augusta does propose,
His Sentiments well-meaning Friends espouse.
Caesar assents, and does approve the Choice,
Caesario with Reluctance gives his Voice.
Happy the Day that saw
Augusta Bride!
Nearer by Virtues both, than Birth, ally'd.
Britannia hence foresees a dawning Morn,
And
Rome's, and
Gaul's Imperious Insults scorn.
The Jesuits are here again outdone,
As far as twinkling Tapers by the Sun.
They clog'd with Plenty, dreaded no decay,
Nor fear'd succeeding Darkness to the Day.
The full possession of their present Joy,
They thought no Human Agents cou'd destroy.
But
Rome impatient grown with dull delays,
Like Misers still desirous of encrease;
Aiming at new Additions to their Store,
And in the midst of Luxury craving more.
Caesar is now an envy'd hindrance grown,
He sits too long unactive on the Throne:
They'd all their Ends they cou'd expect from him:
Now Life it self becomes the only Crime.
Caesario ripe, and finish'd up for Rule;
All Opposition
Gallia wou'd controul.
Their Tools prepar'd at home did ready stand,
For any Revolution of the Land.
Hibernia eager for a change of State,
Provokes, as once of old, an hasty Fate.
Achates was not silent in this Storm,
Did what an active Statesman cou'd perform.
Their dark Cabals his Emissaries find,
And tell him all the Mischiefs they design'd.
Intelligence a certain safety brings,
The Guardian of an Army and a King.
He cherish'd more regard for
Caesar's Life,
He cou'd not see him fall in such a strife.
Th' Infernal Consult now does open lye,
The bloody Scheme expos'd to ev'ry Eye;
The Plot, the Machines, and the Actors shown,
The whole Contrivance open laid and known;
A numerous Scrowl of several Ranks expire,
On Gibbets Gasp, and expiate in Fire.
Some on the Scaffolds trembling Trunks extend,
Disgorge their Blood, and in Convulsions end.
This Storm blown o'er, strange Prodigies arise,
A new
Parhelia glitters in the Skies;
This does some giddy Proselytes amaze,
They stand, and glare, and kindle into blaze.
To summ its numerous Votaries in our Isle,
And how they're closely center'd to beguile,
Unworthy Verse it is, or any Muses toil.
In few, let's all their little Arts disclose,
Show how to
Rome they're Friends, to
Albion Foes.
One impious Doctrine, worse than
Rome, they teach,
A parity of Governors they preach.
Are no Superiors the Apostles Theme?
Must all Coequal be, and all Supreme?
All are Inferior to th'Almighty Head,
But sure Commanding Officers must Lead.
Th' Apostles taught us thus, this Gospel told,
This Doctrine Primitive Fathers have enroll'd.
Great
Pearson clearly does demonstrate this,
Till he is answer'd, let them acquiesce.
From dark Oblivion let one Instance pass,
And be beyond the power of Time to rase;
Common Distempers they for Devils take,
Or with confederate Tricks their Project make,
What will not be effected by this Cheat!
These to be thought Religious, Wise, and Great,
Invoke th' Almighty to their impious show,
And crowd up Hell with Imprecations too.
The
Lapland Saint with easie Toil can guess,
When to fix
Lucifer, when dispossess.
Driveling and yawning with a foul Grimace,
Like Spouts conveying Rain from Carved Face,
Now Prays, now Groans, now Curses, all in Cant;
Out-flies the Devil, to avoid the Saint:
But sure such Cant wou'd rather
Daemons raise,
They're Blasphemy such Offerings as these:
Are these the Christian Principles they give?
They teach what they themselves do disbelieve.
Can Acts like these proceed from what is good?
These Frogs may croak, but cannot pray in Mud.
One Instance more let's Register in Verse,
One more opprobrious Parallel rehearse;
Their Proselytes they equally Devour,
They preach 'em Heav'n, but grasp at all their Store,
In this unerring Maxim they agree,
Insatiate as the Grave, or craving Sea,
When Pains invade, and fierce Diseases meet,
To hurry Mortals to a future State;
When heavy Groans proclaim their Fate is near,
No signs of coming Health or Life appear,
Then on frail Nature eager they press on,
And Cant, for Interest, in a Saint-like Tone;
Their Prey by their unhallow'd Prayers they seize,
And fleece them in their dying Agonies.
Achates had to each a like regard,
And either side receives a like Reward,
As others fell, so these expiring lie,
And finish this last Scene of Tragedy.
Like two defeated Bodies either stood,
The Ferment was allay'd by Letting blood;
But
Rome in this might an advantage boast;
The Latter-Game by th' other Party lost,
Diverts the Hunt, and does the Chace divide,
Reverts the Cry on the Dissenters side.
All that
Achates cou'd perform was vain,
Caesario is with Smiles receiv'd again;
He claims successive Right to
Albion's Rule,
Nor was there any Law that did controul;
No Votes Exclusive of his Claim wou'd down,
Nor wou'd he weigh his Faith against a Crown;
Too deep Impressions had his Youth receiv'd,
For what he then imbib'd he still believ'd.
In vain the Doctors of our Church engage,
In vain they did essay t'reform his Age;
What e'er was urg'd on the Reformers side,
Was but t'oppose the Winds or pressing Tide.
And thus Affairs in Church and State appear'd,
When news of
Caesar's sudden Fate was heard;
The news like Thunder shook the astonish'd Land,
Like
Niobes we metamorphoz'd stand;
Divided 'twixt our Love and future Fears,
A wild disorder'd harmony appears;
If
Caesar had not steer'd a prosperous Course,
The present Prospect did augment it worse;
Eddies, and Rocks, and Shelves are all behind,
Rough Storms arise, w
th thunder wing'd on wind,
Sad Entertainments of a troubl'd Mind.
Delays howe'er were dangerous to be try'd,
The vacant Throne demands to be supply'd:
A stubborn People careless of a Sway,
They must be check'd by Law, and taught t'obey;
No Titles yet disputable oppose,
Nor jarring Acts as yet contracted Foes.
Caesario is proclaim'd, the willing Land
Espouse his Claim, and yield to his Command:
As much of Grace as Majesty cou'd show,
As much as Subjects ought from Kings to know,
Caesario promis'd to th'expecting Isle,
And all our Hopes depended on his Smile.
Oh! had he center'd in this pleasing Sphere,
Not urg'd with rapid force his Course too far;
He like the Sun retreating from his Noon,
An easie and a wonderous Race had run;
We then had bask'd in ev'ry splendid Ray,
Nor had one envy'd Cloud obscur'd the Day;
At his own Altars here he might have bow'd,
And offer'd Incense curling in a Cloud.
Ah! why wou'd he with
Syren Notes beguile!
Why was their Venom mingl'd with the Smile!
He promis'd Blessings on his own accord,
He might with the same ease have kept his Word;
Unhappy Faith that gives this Latitude!
And does an universal Bond exclude.
Yet for a time on easie Waves we play,
And
Halcyon Gales the fleeting Bark convey;
No present Storm did threaten from afar,
No thickening Cloud spread o'er our Hemisphere.
In his own Mode his Piety he show'd,
We in the Church establish'd serv'd our God.
When strait the old Reformers of the Times,
Who mend Defaults by acting greater Crimes;
When whatsoe'er is Sacred is profan'd,
It's then a thorow Reformation nam'd.
When Civil Rights a woful ruine bear,
It's but the Harvest of Religious War:
These forward Zealots of a barren Cause,
These Enemies to Order and the Laws,
With the
Parrhelia in the West appear,
Warm in his Beams and kindle into War;
Press on like hasty Floods with impious Rage,
The Folly and the wonder of the Age:
With untaught Troops they rashly ventur'd on,
And fought like stubborn Fools to be undone.
What can be argu'd to excuse these Men?
Who can for them a just defence maintain?
Are these the Champions of
Britannia's Fate?
Must she from them her great Deliverance date?
What cou'd these desperate Engines thus inspire?
What kindle this Enthusiastick Fire?
It's plain, the Movement lies before our Eyes,
Rome gives the Machines Motion, and Supplies.
If ever People wou'd receive Advice,
And Wisdom really know without disguise,
Dear bought Experience sure wou'd teach them more,
Than all their dull fallacious Guides before:
Albion has other Hero's for her Guard,
Souls worthy
Albion's Race, and vast Reward:
Not puny Emmets of a Mushrome Birth,
Like these meer Insects crawling out of Earth:
A few revolving Suns will speak their Names,
In Annals pregnant with unusual Fame.
The Mock Sun vanish'd like a wandring Fire,
In Blood he Set, his purpl'd Beams expire.
The Western Fields were strew'd with guilty Seed;
May no prolisic Crop indulge the breed!
If future Faults provoke the angry Throne,
Theirs be the Guilt, the Blood be all their own.
What happier Scene for
Rome can be display'd!
The Rebels routed, and her Rival dead;
Her open Foes in Battel overthrown,
Cou'd give no more disturbance to the Throne,
'Twas sure the Terror of this Rival's force,
Check'd in its full career the
Roman Course:
Or sure she thought
Caesario's potent Seat,
Was now above the Rage of Men and Fate,
Or that the Church establish'd ne'er wou'd swerve,
But beyond all extreams of Duty serve.
With this assurance buoy'd away she flies,
Her tow'ring Plumes aspire the very Skies,
Sure of the Goal, she aims to grasp the Prize.
Storms after Storms wing'd on destructive Wind,
Now rage, and in no compass are confin'd;
So
Boreas blusters o'er the troubl'd Main,
And with each Billow does a War maintain,
Thunders attend him with a noisie Crowd,
And pointed Light'nings flash from every Cloud.
The Surges rise and press with waving Trains,
But on the Rocks expend their Force in vain.
Rome now a bare-fac'd open Game does play,
Her bold, defying, bloody Flag display,
In earnest strives at an unbounded Sway.
No huddl'd Projects longer are kept close,
She does a large expanded Scene disclose;
To compass this, she gives a certain Blow,
At once all
Albions Basis to o'erthrow.
Twelve Ermin'd Judges are prepar'd to give
Away our Rights, to grace Prerogative:
Free, as they are requir'd, they all resign,
And prodigally aid this black Design.
In Ages past, what our Forefathers toil'd
With vast Efforts and Industry to build,
What They with Sweat and Blood, & endless Care,
Upon a strong Foundation strove to rear,
The very Guardians of our Beings all,
Before these Twelve Apostate
Britans fall.
Unhappy Men! too forward taught in Crimes!
The very Ignominy of the Times!
How cou'd they this to after Years convey?
Or how engage their Sons to curse the Day?
Why shou'd they late Posterity betray?
Their native Rights be ravish'd from their Claim,
Transmit them down, a barren empty Name,
Who constituted these twelve Men supreme?
How came this Pow'r to be assum'd by them?
Grant that they must expound the Text of Law,
Whence do they thence this wild Conclusion draw?
Is Exposition to repeal an Act?
What Parliaments enforce, can they retract?
This true, their Pow'r is more capacious grown,
Than all our General Council, and the Crown:
But that's absurd, and so their Grants were vain,
They give a Privilege they can't maintain,
Howe'er it serves to buttress up their Cause,
And gives a colour to clude the Laws.
Which are dispenc'd withal without controul,
The King's the Representative o'th' whole.
Through this wide Breach the Inundation flows,
Which all our Mounds of safety overthrows:
Nothing but boundless Pow'r now courts the Ear,
As
Eastern Kings, or
Persian Sophi's are;
A Will coercive, as establish'd Law,
Flash'd thro' the Land, and all the Nation awes;
Nor this large Doctrine must we disbelieve,
This Stamp in early Youth we must receive,
Sacred as is our Faith, and Canons this,
We must in this entirely acquiesce:
This ev'ry Bard, and ev'ry Druid told,
And every Penman of the Isle enroll'd.
But now let's cast on either side an Eye,
Not byass'd with a Partiality.
Let's see what strength of Sense does this maintain,
The Tares and Chaff let's separate from the Grain;
Let's hear how first they Government define;
Why, it's Paternal all, and all Divine;
From
Adam this Despotic Claim began,
To
Noah down successive Titles ran,
He to his Sons transmits this General Rule,
We must Obedience pay without Controul.
A free Assertion this, and very clear,
Cou'd it a Demonstration but appear;
But if a Supposition is allow'd,
Then Suppositions on each Side must crowd,
And Arguments as endless as at first,
Both run in vain, for neither Party lost.
Before the Flood imperfect Rolls are known;
What Actions in those num'rous Years were done,
The Sacred Writ has not divulg'd to Man,
Who can a
Thesis opposite maintain?
We read of
Patriarchs, how the rolling Spheres
Oft whirl'd around in many tedious Years,
And found them still in Youth, no rip'ning Snow
Adorn'd their Heads, nor Wrinkles grac't the Brow;
The very Planets wonder'd at the Race,
They still appear'd in Prime, with blooming Grace.
Now scarce one Revolution they compleat,
But see Mankind destroy'd by angry Fate:
Life's but a Thought, we're now of shorter Breath,
And claim an earlier Kindred with the Earth.
What mention is there made of Kingly Rule?
Or who e'er shew'd th'Oeconomy o'th' Whole?
Of their long Lives a clear Account is writ,
Not who were Kings, or who to them submit.
Why then shou'd this a
Canon be to Man?
It's but a bare Opinion they maintain.
But
Noah falls in a successive Line
From
Adam, and divulg'd his great Design,
To raise a Fabrick that cou'd stem the Main,
When Heav'n destroy'd the World with future Rain.
This as a Prophet, not as King he told,
This Title in the Sacred Writ's enroll'd:
For
Noah's Sermon did continue long,
He preach'd a quick Repentance all along:
Had he been King, they'd more Allegiance paid,
They'd surely known their Orders, and obey'd.
But o'er his House a Regal sway he bore;
So Fathers since, and doubtless did before:
But he of many others had a Care,
He was to many Tribes a Royal Heir;
Before the Flood he bore extended Sway,
And taught a numerous People to Obey:
That's but, perhaps, a Controversial Throne,
For ever thus we argue
Pro and
Con:
Why then i'th' Ark did he not more include,
Out of that universal Multitude?
He was regardless of his Subjects good,
He let them fall unpity'd in the Flood;
To this they Answer —
That great Command convey'd to him from
Heav'n,
Was only by th' Almighty's Order given.
This then Conducts us to another Theme,
Let's ask how Ages govern'd after him;
For if from Heav'ns bright Throne all Orders come,
And Nations wait from
Jove's great date their
doom,
Or we are left to Reason's dictates here,
Or Revelation must new Kings declare.
It's plain from
Noah, to fam'd
Abraham's Race,
No Calendars of Kings the History Grace;
Nor are successive Monarchs there exprest,
It's but a meer Conjecture at the best.
The Records no Paternal Titles name,
Nor Crown succeeding Sons with Regal Fame;
But they averr, —
When
Israel's Sons possest the Promis'd Land,
Then Kings were pointed out by God's Command.
It's true, and wou'd he please to do it now,
Who then disputed Titles durst allow;
But since his Wisdom Infinite denies
This Gift to Man, our Reason must supply;
Reason disdains relation to the Earth,
For with the Soul it claims Celestial Birth;
Reason's the Pole-Star of the World's great sway,
By it the Monarch Rules, and we Obey.
This then allow'd, the Muse proceeds to tell
The Wonders of our Days, and what befell,
Our Actions be to coming Ages known;
And let us vindicate what we have done.
But by the bye, let's take a short survey,
How the known Globe is govern'd at this Day,
What Constitutions different Kingdoms claim,
How each exerts its Pow'r, and wins a Fame.
Then
Albion's Sons may with a general Voice,
Consider all distinct, and take their choice:
If then they'll alter what their Fathers rear'd,
They'll bring a worse Destruction than they fear'd.
First to the
Eastern Climes let's wing our way,
There take a view of Arbitrary Sway:
Here Princes absolute as Heav'n appear,
As awful as the mighty Thunderer:
Unbounded Terrors here surround the Throne,
And trembling Subjects at a Beck fall down:
No Law secures them but the Monarch's Will,
He's only judge of what is Good or Ill,
It's he dispenses Edicts thro' the Land,
The passive People yield to each Command:
No Charters there, or Property they claim,
A Subject's Freedom's but an airy Name.
They know no Right that they can call their own,
Or to Posterity transmit it down.
Their Lives, Estates, and all their numerous Race,
One angry Nod destroys, or does deface;
Rivers of Blood must expiation make,
For every little Pique the Monarch takes:
Like a Majestick Savage he bears Rule,
Nor dare his trembling Herds his Will controul.
Can common Sense this brutal Sway maintain?
For Beasts more proper sure than God-like Man,
Whose Appetites do covet such a Feast,
May be at
India's bloody Boards a Guest.
Three Parts in Four of the whole Globe we find
Such Sanguinary Laws and Statutes bind:
But Christian Kingdoms other Rulers know;
This is the next succeeding Point to show:
To clear this Head, let's search the sacred Page,
And see what Doctrines Jesus taught his Age;
Let's learn the Records of th'Almighty's Son,
What on this Subject he deliver'd down.
Thro' all his Course he did Obedience preach
To Kings, the very same th' Apostles teach;
They pay submission to the Powers they find,
And stamp that Law on ev'ry Christian's Mind;
But what's all this to form a Kingdom by?
And many bring to one Society?
What's this to Human Laws and Precepts here?
When Government in
Embryo did appear,
When Policy erected high its Throne,
And taught excentrick Crowds its Power to own;
Our Saviour never touch'd upon that Theme,
But left distinctive Lands in that Supream;
He never did
Augustus Right dispute,
Whether by Law he's bound, or Absolute;
Nor who proclaim'd him Emperor at
Rome,
When Amorous
Anthony was Overcome;
Nor why he did assume a Sov'reign Pow'r,
Which in the Senate was compriz'd before:
His willing Tribute he to
Caesar paid,
Call'd not in question any Act he made:
The
Roman Edicts thorow
Canaan fly,
Christ no Objection makes, but does comply.
Hence ev'ry Scepter may new Laws command,
As Exigencies of the State demand;
And from each present Constitution's Frame
The Prince and People both may Justice claim.
This granted, more Enquiries were but vain,
How other Lands establish'd Rules maintain;
Let it suffice us, that we know our own,
What's ours to ask, and what to pay the Throne.
Now to the last decisive Head we're come,
Of all alledg'd before the Total Sum:
If Government be by the Laws confin'd,
Which Prince and People equally do bind,
Why, in the Name of Goodness, may not Crimes
On either Side disturb the peaceful Times?
And Violence by Justice be compell'd
Or to abscond, or, when it stirs, to yield?
This Equal Rule brings on a glorious Day,
And will illustrate all we have to say:
This Revolution at this Bar be try'd,
And be a future Standard, and a Guide.
Caesario makes the Laws of Cobweb-force,
Bursts thro' them all in his impetuous Course,
Thro' all the Land imperious Edicts fly,
The People must implicitly comply:
Not Turbant-Precepts speak with louder Strain,
Nor Eastern Kings with greater Terrors reign.
Whatever Oppositions did appear,
Were levell'd all by the Court-Pioneers;
Those thoughtless Tools of a Tyrannick Power
Were to have been the last it did devour;
The
Cyclops Kindness their Reward had been,
They'd been the last in that destructive Scene.
O'er the Transactions let us cast an Eye,
Let's take of all the Ills a short Survey.
He had no more Domestick Foes to fear,
'Twas now high time his other Aims to dare:
Those very Men whose Loyalty was known
A strong substantial Guardian of the Throne,
Inur'd to War, all Perils they abide,
And slighted Death and Danger on their Side;
Whose bold Resolves wou'd all Encounters meet,
To bend their haughty Foes beneath their Feet;
These very Men are ey'd with half Regard,
Scarce empty Praise allow'd for their Reward;
Their very Lawrels ravish'd from their Brow,
Which Foreigners and
Romish Courtiers know.
Our faithful
Statesmen who the
Crown had serv'd,
And never from a Prudent Conduct swerv'd,
Britannia's Aid, and great Supporters, they
Now from the alter'd Throne are urg'd away;
Their Places fill'd by callow untaught Tools,
Monstrous Effects produce, and worthy Fools.
The just Expounders of the Law are laid
Aside, the very Law it self betray'd.
Ten thousand Bribes engage the partial Bar
'Gainst Equity to manage well the War;
Things thus prepar'd, they press it fiercely on,
And with exalted Steps their Race they run.
Th'Establish'd Church is now the Object grown
Of all their Hate, the Envy of the Throne;
That very Church who like a Fortress stood,
And stemm'd the Rage of each Fanatick Flood,
Whose blasted. Laurels with the Martyr fell
A Sacrifice to a distracted Zeal;
That Church which long with
Caesar's Fortune mourn'd,
With him it suffer'd, and with him return'd;
That very Church to whom
Caesario owes
The Royalties that now adorn his Brows,
Who plac'd the King on his Imperial Seat,
In spite of Storms, and each opposing Fate;
Whose just Defence he promis'd to espouse,
'Gainst all th' Efforts and Insults of its Foes;
That Church must now receive its dated Doom;
It's order'd thus at
Court, it's so decreed at
Rome.
To compass this, he courts his baffl'd Foes,
On them redundant Favours he bestows;
No Acts of Grace these Minions are deny'd,
Darlings at Court,
Caesario's Joy and Pride.
How soon they'd cancell'd all their guilty Score!
How chang'd this
Landskip from the
Western shore!
From Gaols & Gibbets freed, they spread the Land,
And Places of the highest Trust command;
Dissenters were the Nations Curse before,
Still
Romish Tools,
Romes Idols to restore;
They hugg'd themselves, and thought this smiling Sun
Dispens'd its Beams to cherish them alone.
Achates was from Bus'ness banish'd far,
His goodly Beams abscond, and disappear;
He, like a Star of the First Magnitude,
Is shadow'd by an interposing Cloud.
How diff'rent now the Days from
Caesar's Time!
To be
Caesario's Friend was then a Crime;
Unjustly then the Statesman was confin'd,
Because they thought him to his Int'rest kind:
A num'rous Train of Articles they form,
Their Shafts pursue him like a winged Storm;
His steady Innocence of Proof was found,
Invulnerable he, they cou'd not wound.
When six revolving Suns the
Zodiack past,
Return'd, yet saw the
Heroe unreleast;
But all his Counsels were for
Albion's Good,
He always firm to Honours Dictates stood.
Let's leave
Achates in his ancient Seat,
Awaiting there a more indulgent Fate;
Tho' silent there he lay, his open Ear
Heard all the News, his Thoughts employ'd with Care.
Now sev'ral Orders of their Priests appear,
And in our Towns and Cities Altars rear;
They crowd upon us in a num'rous Throng,
Traverse the Land, and bring their Gods along.
They gilded well their florid Harangues o'er,
And slily teach, It was mistake before;
They held no Doctrines Impious, as we're told;
Our Prelates mingl'd Tinsel with their Gold:
But, after all, few Proselytes they win,
Their Chappels crowded, but their Vot'ries thin.
Stripes upon Stripes
Caesario's Fury lays,
He gives the Word, the Subjects must obey,
There's no Excuse must plead their guilty Cause,
In vain they challenge, and appeal to Laws;
Himself the Law does their Instruction bring,
Or they must find the Terror of a King.
The Muses Seats his Mandates first invade,
He'll make his chief Attack at th' Fountains Head:
Apollo's Sons unite, the Tempest stand,
They truckle not to an unjust Command;
Illegal Orders no Impressions made,
More deference they to Oaths and Conscience paid:
Their College Statutes were to them a Rule,
Nor cou'd an Arbitrary Word controul.
Since
Thunder cou'd not,
Lightning must perform;
From these
brave Souls their
Honors all were torn,
They'r
wounded, tho' not
vanquish'd by the
Storm.
That
Count of High Commission did appear
Just like a Comet blazing in the Air,
That Death and Ruine all around does throw,
And fills with teeming Ills the World below.
But now a Master-piece of
Romish Rage
And Folly comes, and startles all the Age;
Sev'n Living
Martyrs from their Temples tore,
In Prison thrown, unusual Fetters bore,
Because
Rome's Idols they cou'd not adore:
Such Contradictions they cou'd not maintain
As render'd all Religion dull and vain;
They cou'd not think that an Eternal Mind,
That rules the various Fates of Humane Kind,
To whom the Heavens bow, at whose Command
Man, like himself, cou'd think, and upright stand,
Form'd from a wild Abyss:
They cou'd not think this mighty Deity
On his own Altar cou'd entombed lie;
They cou'd not think that
Jesus dy'd before
He on the cursed Tree those Tortures bore:
For when he spoke those gen'ral Words, it's plain.
The senseless Bread did not the God contain.
They cou'd not think he was design'd a Feast,
To be devoured by an impious Priest;
Or that those Viands were deliver'd down
As the Identick Flesh of the Almighty's Son.
Howe'er, the Scandal of the Bar they bear,
Which makes their Innocence the more appear;
Their Innocence their rigid Judges awes,
They turn'd their Advocates, & plead their Cause.
All Heads at work to bring the People o'er
To chuse such Members as wou'd all devour;
Such Men our awful Council must compose
As were before prepar'd the Kingdoms Foes;
Their Actions all Illegal fill the Land;
Where they cou'd not cajole, they did command:
Had they proceeded thus their Prize to gain,
The Law it self had by a Law been slain.
These loud Alarms thro' all the Nation fly,
They cou'd no longer look with partial Eyes;
Those very People who indulg'd the Throne,
And represented well whate'er was done,
Now stunn'd with Horror, can excuse no more,
They cannot vindicate it, as before.
If e'er Religion did or cou'd invite
Its Proselytes in its just Cause to fight;
If ever
Christians were to wear the Sword,
And draw it to defend the Sacred Word,
As a familiar Text seems t' intimate,
To guard their Doctrines from the
Pagan Hate,
No shriller Cries cou'd call us forth to Arms,
Our Foes cou'd never give more bold Alarms.
We rather still on Pray'rs than War intent,
Our Hopes were stretch'd e'en to the last extent;
From humble Minds our offer'd Incense flies,
With holy Violence we storm the Skies;
With meek Addresses supplicate the King:
Petitions no Redress nor Succour bring;
From
Rome's Cabals still further Insults come,
Too sure, alas! we saw approaching Doom.
So when the thickning Clouds obscure the Air,
And dusky Curtains skreen the Hemisphere,
The Swains their conscious trembling Herds infold,
And guard them all securely in the Hold.
But to conclude, and perfect the Design,
In one uncommon Project they combine
To give the last great Stroke to all they've done,
And boldly finish what was thus begun.
Now let the Muse by Reason's Dictates steer,
And let the Case be stated plain and clear;
Let's make a Search with an unerring Eye,
View each Retreat of this deep Mystery:
Ten thousand Joys the pregnant Queen proclaim,
It almost bursts the Cheeks of lab'ring Fame;
Seraphick Hymns sound loud in ev'ry Ear,
And suming Incense covers all the Air.
The Queen's conceiv'd, was ev'ry Courtier's Theme;
The News is still repeated, still the same.
These wondrous Tidings eager they devour,
Wait with impatient Zeal the future Hour.
Yet this Report did diff'rent Impress make
In various Minds, the quick Alarm they take;
With curious Ken behind the Veil they pry,
This question'd Truth search out with careful Eye.
This Rumour soon to great
Augusta came,
It flagg'd not long upon the Wings of Fame;
It found the Princess all retir'd, alone,
Pensive and anxious for her
Albion:
Too sure, alas! her Countries Ills she knew,
She saw what Trains of Ruine did pursue,
She oft in vain had to
Caesario mourn'd,
But no Paternal Graces were return'd.
Augusta did this Novel entertain
Meek as became her Greatness, all Serene,
To Heav'n still ready to submit her Mind,
To its Decrees still piously inclin'd;
Her Prudence was not yet deficient here,
She shew'd true Conduct in this great Affair:
Two worthy Matrons, of unquestion'd Fame,
By her Commission'd, into
Albion came;
She in their just Relations wou'd confide,
And what seem'd doubtful shou'd by them be try'd.
The Civil Law this Justice may demand,
The Right of Nations this, and ev'ry Land,
This Justice for a gen'ral Good design'd,
Establish'd as the Cement of Mankind:
This Privilege debarr'd, the Birth-right's lost,
Nor can the Off-spring any Profit boast.
Th' expected Hour is past, a gen'ral Joy
Rings thro' the Court, and gratulates the Boy:
A Prince is born, was ev'ry Courtier's Cry,
And Fire-works burst, and rattle in the Sky.
The King all Satisfaction did receive
That Man cou'd covet, or that Fate cou'd give.
He was above the Terror of his Foes,
Nor did he fear a Storm wou'd interpose.
But now for Arms
Britannia's Youth prepare,
They cou'd no longer fence impending War;
Ev'n Hope it self forbids a dawning Day,
It disappear'd, and vanish'd quite away.
A woful Med'cine War, a sad Retreat;
To Man it's Hazard, and the Game of Fate.
Achates now appears upon the Stage,
And with him brings the Nobles of the Age:
Harangues were needless, and a formal Tale,
Which often with unthinking Heads prevail;
These Worthies knew too well their Countries State,
Too conscious of its Woes, and coming Fate;
Their Aims, their Thoughts were how to save the Land,
And in the Breach of threatning Danger stand.
Unto
Augustus, now resolv'd, they send,
T'engage him for their Champion, and their Friend:
They represented plain the State of Things,
What crowding Mischiefs dull Delays wou'd bring;
Their Lives & Fortunes with his Arms wou'd join,
To carry on this Great and Just Design.
Besides his Honour, Int'rest did engage
Him to espouse their Wrongs, and aid the Age;
His Princess's Claim lay bleeding, and his own,
For he was near ally'd to
Albion's Throne;
That yet no Satisfaction did appear
Relating to the Birthright of an Heir;
But strong Suspicions of a form'd Design
Did thro' the whole Intrigue too clearly shine.
Those very Persons whom the Laws require,
Or absent were, or order'd to retire;
Those, not by Chance, but by Contrivance so,
And these forbidden with a wrinkl'd Brow.
Divided Passions crowd
Augustus Soul,
A Filial Duty, and his Royal All;
Too great his Mind to bear
Caesario Hate,
Yet with himself does thus expostulate:
The
Britains all complain, a Lawless Son
Is now entail'd on injur'd
Albion's Throne:
Sure by the fix'd Decrees of Civil Law
I may demand to make him Legal now,
Or tamely I undoubted Right resign,
And by my Silence they may question mine:
Our Claims disputeless by these Ties are bound;
They perish all, if we destroy this Mound.
The haughty
Court deny'd the
Nymphs their Claim,
That from
Augusta on that Errand came:
Besides, I ne'er cou'd hear the Royal Breast
In Milky Streams cou'd court the Infant's Rest;
Tho' Mortals vary'd, Nature fix'd still stood,
And ne'er gave Infant, but afforded Food:
As we may see the shining
Galaxy
In Milky Paths describes its Progeny.
Sure something more than Flights of Common Fame
Must break those
Laws by which all
Monarchs claim
Their Right to Crowns.
Since Man and Nature both consent to join,
To call me hence, I'll pass for
Albion;
A General Council shall decide the Cause,
For,
Justice is the Parent of the Laws.
It's pleasant sure when into Port we come,
And cast out Anchor at our Native Home;
When we can bid Defiance to the Wave
That challeng'd Life, and form'd it self a Grave;
When we can rest securely on the Shore,
And laugh at Storms that made us pale before;
When we can sit and tell of Dangers past,
And lengthen out our Stories not in haste.
The
Graecian Bard cou'd sing the
Trojan's Doom,
When
Agamemnon did in Triumph come;
When conq'ring
Greeks review'd their ancient Soil,
He then cou'd tell of Battels, and their Toil:
Their Swords had cut out Subjects for his Pen,
And he at large display'd the Warlike Scene,
Renew'd, and fought their Battels o'er again.
So
Maro cou'd, in Great
Augustus Days,
When all the World enjoy'd a general Peace,
He then cou'd sing his
Heroe, and Alarms,
And brought
Aeneas to
Lavinia's Arms;
From burning
Troy the pious Youth he brings,
And seats him on the Throne of
Latium's Kings.
As large a Subject courts the Muses Eye,
As e'er was found in
Italy, or
Troy:
Oh! had our
English Virgil tun'd his Lyre,
The God of Verse wou'd ev'ry Strain inspire:
The Bard unto
Apollo does belong,
For
Dryden, taught by him, compos'd a wondrous Song:
Cowley and he new Conquests made in Verse;
Their mighty Numbers, mighty Things rehearse:
Blackmore essay'd it in a lofty Strain,
'Twas he conducted
Arthur to his Reign;
He sang of
Arthur, and his prosp'rous War,
The Parallel is in
Augustus here.
Here are
Ideas that inform the Mind,
As Complex all as Learned
Lock design'd;
All Images which
Epicurus taught,
All that can entertain and teach the Thought.
Great are the Deeds as e'er were done by Men,
Worthy their Labours, and a Muses Pen.
No more at
Plutarch's Heroes let's admire,
Those Martial Souls that set the World on Fire,
That carry'd on the Bus'ness of their Days,
And wreath'd their Temples with Immortal Bays:
Let
Greece, and
Rome, and other Nations hear
Our Feats of Arms, and learn new Arts of War.
Achates and the Nobles did receive
As full Assurance as the Prince cou'd give;
He with a Force prepar'd wou'd aid the State,
Join with their Arms, and leave the rest to Fate.
The Statesman and the Soldier here combine
By Strength and Wit to manage the Design.
'Twas sure the Common Danger did prepare
Their Minds, and prov'd the Cement of the War:
For never Project of so high Concern
So many diff'rent Breasts did entertain;
Of all Degrees and Ranks a num'rous Crowd
In this important Business were employ'd;
Yet not one Whisper did a Thought make known
To raise Suspicion in the Jealous Throne:
Not
Gallia's Ken, renown'd so much of late,
That knew to pry int' all Affairs of State,
That cou'd display at her own Council-board
What other Princes did project abroad;
Europe's Debates all at
Versails were known,
There all the embryo'd Thoughts of Kings were shown;
So quick, so sure Intelligence did fly,
You'd think each
Daemon were for
France a Spy.
Yet this Intrigue was carry'd on so close,
It slipp'd 'em, and astonish'd all the Foes.
Augustus busied in this great Affair,
Makes vast and pow'rful Levies for the War;
Nature his Handmaid did convey her Store
From Foreign Coasts, and ev'ry distant Shore;
Strong Oaks were levell'd by the lab'ring Swain,
Large Forests turn'd into a verdant Plain;
They shape the Ribs & Planks, & Structures build,
To plow the Seas, untaught to Storms to yield;
Materials from remotest North they bear,
And Pines to form high Masts, to mount in Air;
They search the Bowels of the injur'd Earth,
Dig deep, and give to shining Metals birth;
They force a Rape upon their Mother Clay,
And urge her Treasures all conceal'd to Day;
The sturdy Oars run down in hollow Moulds,
Large Engines frame, that noisie Fates unfold;
Deaths wing'd on Flame as quick as Lightning fly,
And shew a ghastly Ruine to the Eye;
To Sulph'rous Mines for center'd Flame they go,
And search Ingredients in vast Caves below.
And now the Fleet is rigg'd, well trimm'd, and mann'd,
Commanders round the great
Augustus stand,
And their last Orders wait from him to know,
For they are ready where he points to go.
Let's leave him there a while, & cross the Flood,
And view how our Affairs in
Albion stood:
These Preparations were too great to lie
For ever hid, from each enquiring Eye;
The Bus'ness now was to a Ripeness grown,
He valu'd not if his Resolves were known.
Soon to
Caesario comes the loud Report,
It alter'd all the Measures of the Court:
So
Rome's proud Monarch, that did Heav'n defie,
And wou'd himself appear a Deity,
When Thunder echo'd in the Air above,
Wou'd hide his Head, and then confess'd a
Jove.
The little Flatterers, that the King misled
By Paths uncouth, uncommon to be trod,
Those that did buoy him up w
th Flights unknown,
Tremble, grow pale, & shiver round the Throne;
The boldest He, seiz'd with unwonted Fear,
Presents a rueful Image of Despair.
So weak a Fence is Guilt in all Mankind,
A very Sting and Poyson to the Mind.
Caesario now, who late so high did soar,
Beyond his Predecessors all before,
Who pass'd all Bounds of Reason, and of Law,
And govern'd with an universal Awe,
The very Engines of his Court he sends
To reconcile his Subjects for his Friends;
Their ancient Rights and Freedoms he'll restore,
He promis'd Justice, as of old before;
Th' Imprison'd Guides, whom late he did despise,
Are call'd to Court again, and ask'd Advice:
He all things promis'd that were thought to please,
As Liberty, and Property, and Ease:
When streight the welcom News salutes his Ear,
No Dread of Danger now, no Ground of Fear;
Augustus's Fleet was by the Storms repell'd,
The Winds had o'er his pregnant Ships prevail'd;
That Heav'n it self his Quarrel did espouse,
Had shew'd its signal Justice on his Foes,
Their impious Vessels dash'd upon the Shore,
Had silenc'd e'en the
Belgick Lion's Roar.
Augustus wisely spreads this grateful News,
Refits, and his Descent once more pursues:
Mean time
Caesario once again re-claims,
He's still inconstant, found in that the same;
His Smiles were vary'd to an angry Brow,
And ev'ry Subject seems the Monarch's Foe:
Those very Rights we now assur'd our own,
Are all revok'd, and all again's undone.
But Heav'n no longer wou'd a Neuter stand,
Each Wind obeys th' Almighty's great Command,
He sends his awful Orders from above,
The Blasts in murm'ring Controversies strove;
Each strove to be the first to fill the Sails,
To complement
Augustus with their Gales:
Those very Winds that forward smoothly bore
His Fleet, confin'd
Caesario's to the Shore;
They, like a Train of Magick Castles, stood,
And cou'd not steer an Helm to stem the Flood;
As if Enchantment had possess'd each Keel,
They cou'd not hand a Cord to stretch a Sail.
Augustus Fleet now spooms it o'er the Sea,
And safely Anchors in a welcome Bay;
Now other Breezes swell his Canvas Wings,
From Shouts that on the crowded Beaches ring;
His Guns return Salutes with grateful Cheer,
Opposing Echoes strike the sounding Air,
The Warlike Musick's void of Death or Fear.
He orders on the Shore his Martial Bands,
Their polish'd Arms reflected on the Strands;
The Horses upwards hois'd, did hang in Air,
And like unusual Machins they appear;
Th' Artillery's landed in a dreadful Train,
Offensive Arms by Land, and on the Main;
The Carriages in order load the Strand,
In Ranks, like a defensive Rampart, stand:
Augustus draws his Forces tow'rds the Hills,
His Army all the Mounts and Valleys fills:
Such Order here, such Readiness did shine,
And such exact, exalted Discipline,
Not Ancient Generals ever Headed Men
That did more close and silent Ranks maintain;
Not
Caesar's Troops more ready were to die,
Ne'er put off Life with more facility;
Not
Persia's Scourge cou'd greater Odds engage,
Nor war with more unequal Numbers wage:
Carthage, and
Rome's, and
Graecian Captains here
Seem from their Shades to rise, and breath again in Air.
Achates active to his Power had been,
Of
British Youth he leads a valiant Train;
The Nobles join him as he march'd along,
And now they make a large extended Throng.
Britannia's Youth in shining Arms behold,
As Lovely Dreadful as their Sires of old.
If ever Fate cou'd be receiv'd with ease,
It sure must be from Instruments like these:
If ever Beauty did appear in War,
Its awful Charms are only center'd here,
As fierce as
Mars, and as
Minerva fair.
Such were the Youth when
Edward took the Field,
And forc'd the stubborn
Gaul submiss to yield;
When on the Mount the dreadful Monarch sate,
And saw his Troops dispute
Britannia's Fate;
When bravely he refus'd to aid his Son,
But bid him pluck those Laurels all his own;
Such were the Youth when that great Son advanc'd,
And with an Handful routs the Pow'r of
France;
Their Captiv'd King his Triumphs did adorn,
Whilst he's on Vict'rys Wings sublimely born;
Furnish'd our
Annals with Illustrious Deeds,
Which only can from
British Arms proceed.
Such were the Youth when
Henry did prepare
To teach proud
Gaul new Stratagems of War;
When
Agencourt did register the Day,
And sounding Heralds loud proclaim'd his Sway.
And such are now the Youth, which from a
[...]ar
Gallia beholds, and trembles at the War;
These the Battalions that with grand Alarms
Must rowse all
Europe to Confed'rate Arms;
Must
Gallia's proud luxurious Pow'r pull down,
And on
Augustus Head confirm the Crown.
Let's leave them moving with slow March along,
Augmented by an adventitious Throng:
Our City Gates fly open to receive
Their Regiments, and Entertainments give.
Let's view
Caesario's Court, and how Affairs
Present themselves in this rough Face of Wars.
Too late he faw the Error of his Cause:
How weak's the Monarch that abandons Laws!
Too late he saw his Parasites had laid
Rules for their Int'rest all, and his betray'd:
Too late he wish'd his slighted Friends his own,
Too late indeed, forbid his Sight, they're gone.
Pardons were now proclaim'd to call them o'er;
A Pardon's needless where no Crime's before.
Caesario takes the Field, and Heads his Force,
To stop the bold
Augustus in his Course;
His Army's num'rous, were their Minds the same,
Did equal Ardour kindle up their Flame.
Can
Britans, Rome, and old
Hybernian Foes,
An adequate Affection each espouse?
The Officers of highest Fame decline,
Desert the War, and with
Augustus join.
The Royal Branches to his Arms come o'er;
Such Conduct they, and such a Cause, abhor.
Decrees unalterable are above;
These Scenes can then proceed from none but
Jove.
Caesario saw it was in vain to strive,
His wavering Forces cou'd no Succour give;
Unto what purpose was it to oppose,
Or sacrifice his Troops to stronger Foes?
He orders all his Army to disband;
They quit their Posts, & know no more Command.
He's now distress'd, forsaken, and alone,
Looks round, and views a naked, empty Throne.
Of all the Charms of Greatness now bereft,
Not one of all his soothing Minions left;
Those Strains of Pow'r which late the
Romans taught,
Strains that employ'd their Tongues, and ev'ry Thought;
Those Draughts of Grandeur, & that vast Renown,
They all before his dazzl'd Eyes laid down;
Like fleeting Clouds, they dissipate in Air,
Forsake the Sight, are fled, and disappear.
Precarious
Rome, that crowch'd before this Sun,
When he in a Meridian Solstice shone;
That cherish'd all her Orders in his Beams,
And urg'd his Counsels to such wild Extremes;
With alter'd Sails another Course she steers,
As fast as Seas and hasty Winds can bear;
Loaded with guilty Spoils, she posts away,
Just like a Vulture with a ravish'd Prey.
The Court the Council in disorder leave,
Advice they cou'd not hear, nor any give;
Confus'd, distracted, in Despair they run,
And any Shelter seek, the Foe to shun:
So when the Chariot of the Sun does rise,
And scatters Darkness from the shining Skies,
The Birds of Night to Coverts wing away,
Confounded with the Lustre of the Day.
Caesario now encompass'd with Alarms,
A Pris'ner falls to Great
Augustus Arms;
He falls a Captive, not a Victim here,
More Mercy in his Conduct did appear;
Mercy, to
Rome a very Stranger grown,
They know no Kindred, no Acquaintance own;
Her Fiery Trials have excluded quite
That Attribute, and urg'd it to a Flight.
Now Muse proceed, and other Actions tell,
That in this wond'rous Turn of State befell;
If ever Wonders were convey'd to Men,
If we'll but credit what our Eyes have seen,
Great as of old they were, when
Aegypt's Land
Provok'd the Weight of an Almighty Hand;
When Miracle on Miracle did crowd,
And Great
Jehovah spoke by
Moses loud;
Who can to th' Height of Heav'ns high Conduct soar?
Can feeble Man those Starry Realms explore?
Our Reason cannot antidate the Doom,
But we can tell of Blessings when they come.
Cou'd ever People such Deliv'rance boast?
No purple Rivers of our Blood were lost;
The Land with no polluted Streams was stain'd,
An easie, bloodless Victory we gain'd;
Their guilty Cause cou'd not the Test abide,
They had not Heav'n nor Justice on their Side.
Let
Rome essay to interrupt no more,
For Heav'n has other Vengeance yet in store;
Britannia's Church is its peculiar Care,
She needs not
Rome's insulting
Bulls to fear.
Caesario's Strength disbanded all by Land,
Now in the Fleet his Admirals lose Command;
The stubborn Crews wou'd no Obedience pay,
An Anchor wou'd not weigh to put to Sea;
They wou'd not fight at
Rome's imperious Call,
Nor be the Instruments of
Albion's Fall:
Silent each Gun within the Port-hole stood,
They wou'd not launch a Vessel to the Flood.
In this Distress, in dead of silent Night,
When twinkling Stars supply'd Defect of Light,
A Barque
Caesario boards with secret Friends,
And streight to
Gallia's Coasts his Course he bends.
So
Persia's Monarch, when to
Greece he came,
And led on Millions by his powerful Name,
Yet in a trifling Boat is forc'd away,
So small a Vessel
Xerxes did convey.
The rising Winds his Voyage did oppose,
The very Elements proclaim'd his Foes;
The Weather forc'd him back on
Albion's Shore,
And he becomes a Pris'ner, as before.
Impartial Readers let their Judgments give,
And future Times Intelligence receive;
And let the Tenets of our Church be shown,
Blood is an Off'ring to her Rules unknown:
Let
Rome, and let
Geneva blush for shame,
To raise by their Unchristian Acts a Fame.
Review the Revolutions of our State,
Since
Normans to our
Annals gave a Date,
And tell me where a Captiv'd Monarch's found,
That perish'd not by some untimely Wound:
Too true we read their Deaths in ev'ry Shape,
None e'er permitted were to make Escape.
Caesario has his Freedom once again,
On Board he goes, puts forth upon the Main;
He flies to
Gallia's Monarch for Supply,
As an
Asylum in Extremity.
What can he from the treach'rous
Franks expect?
They'll not for his, but their own Ends project;
They'll play the Game, for their Advantage, high,
And reap the fattest Spoils of Victory.
At home the Nobles in Convention met,
Achates first in that Great Council sate;
The Common Cause oblig'd to chuse a Chief,
To give to the disorder'd State Relief:
The Head-strong People, to Confusion bent,
Wou'd raze the Principles of Government,
Or wou'd all Reason, as of old, decry,
Precipitate into an
Anarchy:
A future War impending on the Land,
A quick Dispatch of Bus'ness did command.
Hybernia all disarm'd, nor Sword, nor Spear,
Was with our
Albion's Sons permitted there;
Like
Israel's Tribes, for Tillage-tools they go,
And court Convenience from a dangerous Foe.
That
Gallia Potent was by Land and Sea,
A Pow'rful, Active, Vig'lant Enemy;
Her Force more strong, more num'rous than of old,
Than any former Chronicle enroll'd;
That her New Conquests were themselves a State,
Realms large enough for any Potentate;
For certain she wou'd with
Caesario join,
With Interests close united both combine.
That
Europe's Eyes did on our Counsels wait,
To take their Measures all from this Debate:
In short, all Contradiction overcome,
A Settlement must be dispatch'd at home:
Here lay the Difficulty of the Cause,
It must be done agreeable to Laws.
And now Debates upon Debates arise,
One Argument another still supplies:
From Government in general, they come
To what's our Constitution here at home;
And thence on several Topicks they enlarge,
And briskly round they one another charge.
Who can
Britannia's vacant Throne suppose?
Who e'er an
Interregnum did disclose?
It's granted, when th' Incumbent Monarch dies,
That very Minute the next Heir supplies;
And thus the Chain continu'd Links secure,
For endless Generations to endure.
Again—
Was ever Forfeit of the Scepter made?
Or can the Crown be by the Prince betray'd?
What Judge their Sovereign's Errors can inspect?
Or who presumes his Actions to direct?
The People all must passively comply,
And not into th' Imperial Archives pry;
But if a Subject has a Pow'r to make
Enquiries, ev'ry Subject must partake;
The Judges then are num'rous as the Crowd,
By which a Train of Nonsense is allow'd.
To these
Achates wisely makes reply,
Let's first digest how our Foundations lie;
Let's search the
Basis of the Pile we rear,
That will demonstrate all we argue clear.
'Twou'd tedious be past Actions to unfold,
And to review the Managements of old;
In sev'ral Reigns what various Turns were found,
How King & People danc'd the wond'rous Round:
Th' Employment of our present Thoughts is, how
We find the State, and rightly that to know;
How in these Days it is transmitted down,
How Subjects are engag'd, and how the Crown;
Few Propositions will explain the Thing,
And true, and regulated Notions bring;
The Legislative Pow'r, we'll first enquire,
Who't is to this Dominion does aspire:
That, first disclos'd, will other Heads display,
And tell what it's to Govern, what Obey.
Why it's allow'd Three sev'ral Ranks are found,
That give to Law its Reins, and fix its Bound;
Not any Two of these distinct can frame
An Act Coercive, or give Law a Name:
But when all Three Unite with joint Consent,
We're all oblig'd, it's
Act of Parliament.
Nor any of these Orders can make void
What was before establish'd and allow'd.
Well then, the King and People both are bound,
And neither ought to pass this Sacred Mound:
The King's beyond the Peoples Rage secure,
They neither can a Yoke from each endure.
This Privilege we find is thus entail'd,
And it won'd be Our Fault if now it fail'd:
It's plain,
What's Humane possible may err,
And from this Gen'ral then we thus infer,
Whoe'er's the first Transgressor of this Rule,
Without a Law he lives, without Controul,
Till he within due Compass is compell'd,
And to the Laws preceding forc'd to yield.
Since only Two Transgressors are the All,
Or Prince, or People, must be Criminal.
We too too many Instances do find
Of Popular Commissions in this kind,
Whilst each Offender hurries on his Fate,
And falls a Victim to th' incensed State.
And if a Prince will beyond Compass fly,
And own no Obligations to this Tie,
He moves excentrick, and defies all Pow'r,
Till Fate and Fortune press his hasty Hour.
This granted then—
Why shou'd we farther in Debate proceed?
Important Bus'ness urges on our Speed;
We must not long in this Affair sit still,
But with a Prince the vacant Throne must fill.
He stopp'd; the Nobles with consenting Voice
Concur, and on
Augustus fix their Choice.
Britannia now exerts a splendid Scene,
Augustus King, and Fair
Augusta Queen.
If ever Souls of pure Angelick Flames
Cou'd actuate below an Humane Frame,
They sure are center'd here, and both the same.
For sure those bless'd, unbody'd Minds above,
Are not compos'd of softer Seeds of Love.
Their Thoughts and their Intentions were but one,
No jarring Feuds clash or disturb the Throne:
Their mutual Sway extended o'er the Land,
The People know in Both but one Command.
But when rough Wars her
Heroe calls to Arms,
To meet, with equal Pow'rs, his Foes Alarms
At home
Augusta does alone reside,
And in her Conduct all secure, confide.
She did the Glory of her Sex maintain,
And shew'd a true Heroick Female Reign.
What cou'd a Kingdom more of Fate desire?
Can they to greater Happiness aspire?
Like
Israel's Sons, from
Pagan Bondage free,
They've pass'd by Wonder thro' the Scarlet Sea:
But sure some angry Stars disturb our Isle,
And in new Jars
Britannia's Race embroil;
Some surly Comet hovers o'er our Shore,
And strives to dye the Plains again with Gore.
In furious, moody Heats we now divide,
Augustus some, some for
Caesario's Side:
In Discontents new Factions they foment,
Albion of its own Woe th' establish'd Instrument.
Let's dive, my Muse, into this wild Abyss,
And search where the contagious Venom lies;
Doubtless the dark Retreats we may disclose,
And prove the Strength of our presuming Foes:
Let's backwards look with an impartial Eye,
T' unfold the Volumes of this Mystery.
In Times preceding these, when Winds blew high,
And mounting Billows emulate the Sky,
High on these Waves our Sacred
Druids bore,
Beyond the very Spheres of Reason soar;
Upon these swelling Tides aloft they ride,
The honest Layman's left without a Guide:
Beyond his Sight to distant Orbs they go,
And leave him grov'ling in strange Paths below,
This surely was the Error of the Times,
It cannot wholly be alledg'd their Crimes:
It's plain, Mistakes on either Side are found;
For many took it at the first Rebound,
Espous'd the Words, and lost the genuine Sense
Of what the Learned
Druids did dispense.
'Twas certain some advanc'd too high the Theme,
Press'd it indeed to an abus'd Extreme;
But where a wilful Error was the Fault,
Regard them now as Foes not worthy thought;
For by a strict Implicite Awe is meant
As far as Law, is known in just Extent;
Or otherwise all Order we displace,
And launch into a vast unbounded Space:
We must our Reason and our Sense let fly,
Sink lower than a dull
Democracy.
If by
Obedience Passive was design'd
Each Subject to his Sovereign's Will to bind,
And from his sole Decrees to wait his Doom,
Protection then by Law is overcome,
Our very Fundamentals are o'erthrown,
We stand like senseless Herds around the Throne.
And then allow our Prince wou'd
Mahomet
Adore, and
Mecha make the Holy Seat;
Or that he strain'd so far Imperial Awe,
As we to Monkeys, Onions, Calves must bow,
Which blind Obedience distant Nations pay,
We must submit, or fall a suff'ring Prey.
Suppose this true—
Why then we're conquer'd, at Discretion are,
Like vanquish'd Soldiers, Prisoners of War;
The boundless Sword becomes Coercive Law,
To keep submissive Slaves in servile awe.
But they object,—
Our Sacred Oaths to strict Observance bind,
An Oath is as a Sacrament design'd;
And we this great Solemnity address'd
Unto the King, in artless Words express'd.
It's true: But unto
Albion's King we swore,
King as the Laws had made him so before:
If in another Sense we take the Thing,
We're Traytors, and erect another King;
We cease as Subjects, and we break the Law;
Hence many fatal Consequences draw.
No more with weak Amusements let our Foes
These Trifles, and their Impotence impose.
Our Muster'd Forces for the Field prepare,
And Great
Augustus Heads them on for War;
He, like an old experienc'd Lion, knows
Each Gin, and ev'ry Covert of the Foes:
They, in their Native Heat, and furious Rage,
Like untaught Youth, precipitate, engage;
He, like a Sun, thro' the whole Mass does shine,
Instructs them with unerring Discipline.
Distress'd
Hybernia calls for speedy Aid,
A cruel Carnage there, and Ruine's made;
The
British Int'rest all was overcome,
It fell a plunder'd Sacrifice to
Rome.
To th'utmost North
Caesario's Forces gone,
All but one Corner of the Isle's their own;
These servile Souls, that meer Obedience knew,
Assume th' Ascendant, and their Lords subdue;
Like antick Mimicks clad in awkerd Dress,
Their Pride, and Native Ignorance confess;
The spurious Offspring of the God of War,
They
Gibeonites, and lab'ring Vassals are;
They not for Empire fashion'd, but the Spade,
Shou'd ne'er attempt Fames Glories to invade.
A speedy Succour is dispatch'd away,
The Transport-Vessels, burden'd, cross the Sea;
At Anchor now within the
Lough they ride,
In spite of Forts, and Booms, the Tow'n supply'd:
A Town, which in all Ages yet to come,
In Fame's large Rolls may justly challenge room.
This was the last Retreat the
Britans held;
The conqu'ring Foe had urg'd them from the Field:
What weak Efforts they had essay'd before,
Were but to flush the Enemy the more;
Like Swarms of Bees, they cluster in a Crowd,
And here th'insulting
Teagues to wonder stood;
Augustus Genius sure did them inspire,
And kindl'd in their Breasts this Martial Fire.
The Army breaks up Ground before the Town,
Led by a
Gallic Chief, hot for Renown;
The Garrison within was weak and raw,
No Order they, no Discipline they know;
They practise not the useful Rules of War,
But, like an Head-strong Mob, unruly are;
Commanders all, they act as they think fit,
Scarce to a known Superior they submit.
And now with Show'rs of Bombs the Town's oppress'd,
Fatigu'd all Day, all Night they know no rest:
A rising Mount there was o'er-look'd the Town,
The Foe on this Advantage plants him down,
And to erect their Batt'ries streight prepare,
There fix their murd'ring Instruments of War.
The Garrison knew how to prize this Post,
If there the Foe entrench'd, the Town was lost:
They sally like a wild, disorder'd Crew,
Not into Ranks, nor marshall'd Order drew;
Press'd forwards like an undigested Throng,
And each one bids his Comerade
March along.
See what Despair, with Fury join'd, can do!
Just like a Torrent, all they overthrow:
Well-order'd Files confused Numbers charge,
And thro' their slaughter'd Lines their Way enlarge;
They force the Works, all Opposition beat,
And urge them backwards with a base Retreat;
Stretch'd o nthe Field the haughty
Franks they leave,
Their
Gallick Gen'ral there acquir'd a Grave.
The Foe by this Defeat more wary grown,
Resolves by Famine to reduce the Town;
They all Things for a ling'ring Siege prepare,
And by their dull Delays prolong the War:
Yet dreadful Bombs from yauning Mortars fly,
And with their fiery Trains aspire the Sky,
Then sinking down with a resistless Blow,
In certain Ruine bury all below.
It's now a meagre Foe assaults the Walls,
And louder than their noisie Mortars bawls;
Deep dismal Hollows in the Cheeks take place,
Shrunk Eyes, and trembling Jaws disguise the Face;
The Features all distorted did appear,
And piteous Groans impending Fate declare;
Sad woful Sights the Landskip still maintain,
Meer Skeletons compleat the ghastly Train:
In short, imperious Want distress'd them more
Than all the horrid Shapes of Death before:
Their Stores exhausted, yield no more their Corn;
They look on one another all forlorn;
Their pinch'd Allowance now their Wants proclaim,
They knew Provision only by a Name;
Base Animals their Appetites entice,
On slaughter'd Dogs they feed, on Rats and Mice;
Those very Brutes that eat their Crums before,
Now in their Deaths discharge their trespass'd Score:
The Foe, the Famine, and Distempers join,
And in a mortal Triple League combine;
The Bloody Flux did in their Bowels rage,
And horrid Gripes a dreadful Combate wage;
Life with such loss of Blood must surely fail,
Soon o'er that shining Lamp it did prevail;
Nor Food, nor Physick had they to give Ease,
To comfort Life, and conquer the Disease:
But yet to give these trusty Souls their Due,
Those Ills, united thus, cou'd not subdue;
They'd hear no Proffers from the Enemy,
Wou'd rather all Extremes of Suff'ring try:
This rescu'd Town presents an hopeful Scene,
This Town, defended by such wondrous Men,
Is the first Trophy of
Augustus Reign.
Albania next provokes a quick Relief;
Fierce Troops, commanded by a Warlike Chief,
Like gathering Clouds that muster in the Air,
Were now just bursting into open War.
This Province had endur'd
Caesario's Rage,
Had felt the Sting and Lash that gall'd the Age;
Some Minds uneasie, had disturb'd the Throne,
And set up strange Inventions of their own;
All Laws Divine and Humane they disdain,
And fashion'd impious Idols of the Brain;
They often suffer'd in th' Efforts they made,
Oft has their guilty Blood Atonement paid.
Pity the first Reformers here did fail;
They shou'd have better taught their early Zeal;
A right Instruction then had stamp'd the Mind,
To order all divinely had inclin'd;
Like
Albion's Church, th' Apostles Forms they'd known,
And not in these digressive By-ways gone:
Howe'er, the People bold and martial are,
Inur'd to Hardship, and the Toils of War.
A Potent Aid is early sent away,
To put it to th' Decision of a Day;
A brisk and hot Engagement does ensue,
Augustus Forces yield, the Foes pursue.
Here
Fortune her Inconstancy displays,
She's truly
Fortune by such Acts as these.
Howe'er, the Leader of the Foes is slain,
We lose the Field, but yet the Vict'ry gain;
Headless, confus'd, they now disperse, and run,
And quit whate'er Advantage they had won:
Domestick Foes Disturbance give no more,
The War's transplanted foreign from their Shore.
But Troubles thicken like a waving Sea,
One still pursues, as th' other leads the way;
Gallia provokes us to an open War,
And either Side Hostilities declare:
The Sea with Fleets is cover'd, o'er the Land
Fierce Squadrons march, and dreadfully extend;
The Warriors take their Arms, long slighted, down,
A pregnant Harvest courts them of Renown.
The King fresh Forces to
Hybernia sends,
T'invade his Foes, and to relieve his Friends;
A Gen'ral leads them of unquestion'd Fame,
In Foreign Fields he challeng'd long a Name;
In
Gallick Marches, and Campaigns in
Spain,
He verdant Laurels never fail'd to gain.
Augustus knew his
British Soldiers were
Of Courage large, but unexpert in War;
Some Veterane Troops to theirs he wisely joins,
His Followers all of old, and fills their Lines.
The chearful Army leave their Native Shore,
Eager the Foe thro' Perils to explore;
Like their great Sires of old, they'll force the Tide,
To overthrow
Hybernia's rising Pride.
The friendly Billows to the Fleet are kind,
And
Aeolus indulg'd them with a Wind;
Their noisie Terrors their Approach proclaim;
They,
Caesar-like, but saw, and overcame.
In Pannick Fright their Towns and Forts they yield,
And their retreating Army quits the Field.
So quick their Flight, like driving Clouds they flew,
It was more hard to find 'em, than subdue.
Some warlike Troops were to
Caesario join'd,
Of
British Birth, but an Apostate Kind;
These view'd this Flight, and burning with disdain,
Rally'd the scatter'd Men to Form again.
A Plat convenient for an Army's found,
By Nature strong, an advantageous Ground;
With deep Entrenchments they their Front defend,
In Length and large Circumference extend;
Ramparts at equal Distance they prepare,
And mount their Cannon ready for the War;
Each Avenue into the Camp is barr'd,
In each Desile, and Pass, there stands a Guard;
Succeeding Watches all their Works surround,
They're jealous of the least approaching Sound.
Caesario's Army thus encamped lies,
Desies the Foe, and's fearless of Surprize:
Numbers of Troops unto his Camp repair,
From ev'ry Quarter, arm'd to meet the War.
Mean time, old
Fabius marches slowly on,
Each Motion of the Foe to him was known;
His active Spies their certain News relate,
And give a true Account of ev'ry State;
The Strength and Numbers of their Troops he knew,
And of his own he takes exact Review:
For open Fight they too unequal were,
Their Odds too disproportionate appear;
So he resolves on a Defensive War.
Within a League of them a
Villa stood,
And by it curles along a murm'ring Flood,
A Pass convenient to secure the Land
Which his victorious Army did command;
And near adjoining lies an useful Bay;
Hither Provision's daily brought by Sea;
The Transport-Vessels here at Anchor ride,
Await their Orders, and the Camp supply'd:
He mounts of strong Artillery a Train,
And rising Works that wou'd a Storm sustain;
His Engineers their num'rous Hands employ,
They regularly entrench and fortifie;
Parties piqueering round for Forage go,
And often meet, and bicker with the Foe:
Lodg'd here secure, it's now resolv'd to stay,
Until the Foe to Quarters leads the Way.
Of all the num'rous Nations that await
Augustus Arms, and tempt a Martial Fate,
Some
Gallic Subjects by a Prince severe
Forc'd from their Homes, receive Protection here;
Listed in Forms of War, he entertains,
They serve beneath his Standard this Campaign:
With these distress'd Reform'd, some Natives come,
Mash'd closely all, true Votaries of
Rome:
These with the Foe compact a black Design,
Confederate in the Treachery they join;
In Dead of Night, when silent Sleep invades
The drowsie Camp, and covers all with Shades,
They, on the Out-guard posted, wou'd receive
Caesario's Troops, and all to Ruine give:
Yet to disguise and counterfeit it close,
They'd entertain them loud with Fire and Noise;
Safely they might approach, no Ball was there
That wou'd a Death convey, all Smoak and Air.
This Treason to the Gen'ral is disclos'd,
Their hated Corps on Gibbets are expos'd:
This Project baffl'd, startl'd high the Foes,
And all their settl'd Measures overthrows;
Howe'er, for once they draw out on the Hills,
And ev'ry little Vale their Squadrons fills;
Bravado all, it only threatn'd War,
A Martial Landskip moving from afar.
But now the Muse must sing a woful Scene,
Of
British Heroes that lay dead, not slain;
Those Men whom open Dangers ne'er deterr'd,
Who Death above a Vassalage preferr'd,
They now before a Foe resistless fall,
Without a Wound they find a Funeral.
A Winters Camp, the Season all severe,
Clouds rise aloft, and gather in the Air,
On Points of Mountains burst, and scatter wide
In Deluges, and form a constant Tide;
Perpetual Showers the dying Men bemoan,
From ev'ry Sphere there issu'd forth a Groan.
This Execution's wondrous from the Skies,
Like Crocodiles they weep, yet with their Tears destroy.
Death made sad Carnage, and a cruel Spoil;
The sick'ning Soldiers die in Rank and File,
Their putrid Corps expos'd, offend the Eye,
And ghastly Heaps in Tents entombed lie:
Those very Tents which late their Shelters were,
Officiously become their Sepulchers;
They fall in Numbers, and deform the Field;
The Fields a sad inhumane Harvest yield:
Death in its Slaughters no Distinction makes,
The Soldier with his Officer it takes;
From this Campaign they both together go,
To take up Quarters in the Shades below.
Provision fails, forbid by adverse Winds;
Sickness before, and Famine press'd behind;
Distempers rage beyond the Power of Art,
No Drugs, no Compounds can Relief impart:
Here no establish'd Methods cou'd prevail;
For what cou'd Physick do, where Life did fail?
Where no Convenience for the Sick was found,
But Millions of Disasters all surround?
No Order here in Obsequies was shewn,
Piles heap'd on Piles in hollow Caves were thrown,
And many a Carcase scatter'd here and there,
Was Food for Wolves, and Birds that wing in Air.
Thus Ruine reign'd with Arbitrary Pow'r,
These Wars of Heav'n, and not the Sword devour.
Ah! who can tell the Number of his Days?
The Universe th' Almighty's Nod obeys:
An armed Host but slender Guard affords,
When Heav'n, incens'd, draws its vindictive Sword.
The Foe cou'd make no Market of our Ills,
The same Destruction all his Quarters fills:
He first from Field removes, we next attend;
And so this heavy, sad Encampment ends.
Of all our Army, scarce one Third remains,
Our Rolls cou'd scarce compleat Five thousand Men;
With these weak Pow'rs we all the North secure,
And ev'ry hostile, bold Attack endure;
Whate'er Assaults they make, are all in vain;
They all the Toil, and all the Loss sustain.
Unto
Augustus, Fabius sends Express,
Acquaints him with his Loss, and his Success,
How few his little Army did compose,
And how he lay obnoxious to his Foes.
Recruits were sent his Army to relieve,
Untill
Augustus did himself arrive;
He'd come, attended with a Warlike Train,
And in
Hybernia finish a Campaign.
Mean time
Caesario sends to
Gaul for Aid,
Vast Stores prepar'd, and pow'rful Levies made:
Some fam'd Commanders, that had won Renown
In Wars, supported by the
Gallick Crown,
Are hither sent to manage this Affair,
And Head
Hybernia's Natives to the War.
The Season's come which
Mars's Off-spring warms,
And calls the Valiant forth to shine in Arms:
In verdant Fields when haughty Steeds can feed,
Their Strength renew'd, they're fiery to invade,
And bear their Riders on with rapid speed.
Two potent Armies Rival Kings lead on,
One to regain, and one to keep a Throne.
More glorious Scenes of War were ne'er display'd,
The Sword an ampler Harvest never had:
Not sounding Fame has greater Actions told,
Of Captains that surviv'd in Years of old;
Not
Caesar's War on large
Pharsalia's Plains,
Which
Lucan sings in strong and lofty Strains,
Exceeds the Deeds of these two Rival-Foes,
Nor more Heroick Enterprizes shows.
One, with Revenge, and vast Ambition's Fire,
His ravish'd Crown and Scepter does aspire;
Confederate with
Gaul, espous'd by
Rome,
By Dint of War resolves to overcome.
A Train of Glories on this Side invite,
And press
Augustus forwards to the Fight;
Religion, Laws, and wrong'd
Britannia's Cries,
Inspire the
Heroe on to gain the Prize:
These pompous Sights the God of War beheld,
And for a while stood Neuter in the Field.
Caesario's Army by a Rivers side,
Strongly entrench'd,
Augustus does abide:
Th' Assailant hazards when he storms the Foe,
Makes his Approach, and gives th'assaulting Blow.
Caesario at the Head of all his Men,
A short and pithy Harangue thus began:
"You faithful Followers that espouse my Side,
"And hitherto an adverse Fate have try'd,
"Your Troubles all will center here this Day,
"Pursue the Chace as Fortune leads the way:
"Your Country long has been oppress'd by Fate,
"Redress its Wrongs, its Freedoms vindicate;
"Once more a just Possession strive to take,
"Remember this, for all your All's at stake.
"Our ancient Forms of Worship we'll restore,
"And Heresie we'll banish from the Shore:
"Your Courage only can Relief afford,
"Your Safety is impendent on the Sword.
Th'
Hybernians shout, their moving Ranks prepare
To Man their Works, and meet the Shock of War.
Augustus mounted rides thro' all the Lines,
A Martial Ardour in his Visage shines;
His sparkling Eyes like darting Rays appear,
Dispell whatever looks like Dread or Fear;
His Troops attentive, to these Words give Ear.
"Come Fellow-Soldiers in so just a Cause,
"You Champions for your Country, and its Laws,
"Pursue the glorious Course you have begun,
"And finish what's remaining to be done:
"The Steps of your Great Predecessors tread;
"Where-ever Danger does invite, I'll lead.
"All
Europe waits the Issue of this Field,
"The
Britans cannot to
Hybernians yield:
"Behold the Foes that now in Arms appear,
"They late your Vassals all, and Servants were:
"Religion and your Rights provoke you on,
"And Vict'ry waits with Laurels of Renown.
Now Trumpets Clangors, & the Beat of Drums,
All other little Noises overcome;
In Intervals the Horses Neighings far
Proclaim the Musick of approaching War:
On either Side the teeming Cannon play,
And dismal Flashes unseen Deaths convey:
The speaking Gaps in Squadrons tell the Fate
Of slaughter'd Ranks, and the sad Woe relate.
Here Bodies piece-meal o'er the Field are strew'd,
And lie dissected in a Sea of Blood;
Arms, Legs, and Thighs, confus'd, in Heaps are found,
And with dishonest Burdens pave the Ground.
Here one disbowell'd gives an hideous Groan,
And as he sighs, Life thro' the Wound is gone;
There scatter'd Brains with Blood polluted lie,
And shatter'd Sculls around in pieces fly.
The Cries and Groans of wounded, dying Men,
Mix'd with the Clash, sad Harmony maintain;
Whatever Tragick Fancies can suppose,
Those impious Scenes this Battel does disclose.
To closer Fight
Augustus leads them on,
His awful Sword like distant Lightning shone;
He on his Courser plunges in the Flood,
The Crystal Streams were soon distain'd with Blood;
Close by his Side his valiant Warriours fall,
Yet others still succeed, and fill the Wall.
The
Britans no Incitements need to move,
They forward all to guard their Monarch strove.
In spite of Waves, and Banks, and armed Foes,
He forward press'd, and plunges thro' the Ouze;
He gains the Shore, his waving Plumes appear,
And strike his Foes aghast with Pain and Fear.
The
Macedonian thus the
Granic pass'd,
Whilst Vict'ry pearch'd upon his streaming Crest,
Whilst flying Nations quit th'ignoble Field,
And to his Arms, prevailing, Homage yield.
It's now the Tug of Battel but begins,
Now clashing Swords, and Peals of Volleys ring;
Now Regiment with Regiment does meet,
In uncouth, horrid Complements they greet;
Granado Fuses hiss, and burn in Air,
Then burst, and ev'ry Piece a Ruine bears;
The Sword, and ev'ry Instrument of War,
Are fully gorg'd with Blood, and surfeit here.
Augustus 'midst this dang'rous Havock stands,
And with a steady Conduct all commands;
He waves his Sword, and leads them to the Charge,
They thro' their broken Files their Way enlarge;
Wheree'er he sees recoiling Troops give way,
He rallies them again, to stand the Day:
Rais'd by his Courage, new Assaults they dare,
And alter streight the pallid Face of War.
Whilst he in Heat of Battel thus proceeds,
And stuns his frighted Foes with Martial Deeds,
Upon his Shoulder he receives a Wound,
The flowing Blood defiles him all around;
Large was the Breach the missive Engine made;
His faithful Guards till then were ne'er afraid;
But now they fear, to see their Prince's Blood
Descend in Streams, and form a Crimson Flood.
This Wound the more his Fury did excite,
Fiercely he charges, and renews the Fight:
Caesario saw the waning Field was lost,
His staggering Troops, disorder'd, quit their Posts;
The best, the bravest of his Men lay slain,
And faintly all the rest the Fight maintain;
Whilst fresh Reserves
Augustus Forces join,
But his speak loud their Fears, and half decline;
He sounds Retreat, and his glad Troops obey,
Augustus claims the Trophies of the Day.
Here had he not restrain'd his Conqu'ring Pow'r,
Hybernian Brains had form'd a Bog all o'er.
The Plunder of the Field each Soldier shares,
And Quarter's order'd to the Prisoners;
The Wounded in the Hospitals they place,
And
Aesculapius Sons afford them Ease;
They in their Art as eminent appear,
As the Battalions train'd in Rules of War;
Balsamick Compounds in the Stores are found,
To answer each Intention of a Wound.
Now all the Joys that Laurell'd Conquests yield,
That
Heroes gather in a Crimson Field,
Augustus reaps from this successful Day,
And darting Glories thro' the Camp displays;
When streight he's told of an important Loss,
How 'mongst the Slain was found Great
Fabius,
Disguis'd with Wounds and Blood, extended dead,
With Piles of slaughter'd Foes around him spread,
Augustue with a Sigh his Fate bemoans,
For ne'er had Soul been form'd so like his own,
The Pompous Rites of Fun'ral they prepare,
Wreath him in Laurel, and the Spoils of War.
Streight to
Augustus Court Expresses came,
This grateful News of Victory proclaim;
The joyful Youth with Bonfires warm the Skie,
And fiery Rockets mount and burst on high:
These Tidings stunn'd the Malecontents at home,
In this Defeat too clear they saw their Doom.
To close Cabals they're summon'd all to meet,
Of new Designs, and Enterprizes treat;
Their hopeful Int'rest in
Hybernia's lost,
Their Projects all in that Affair were cross'd:
They send Dispatches streight to
Gaul away,
To court their Navy to dispute the Sea;
If by Surprize they cou'd our Fleet destroy,
No Transports then the Army cou'd supply,
Their
Rising Sun might brave it o'er the Main,
And they'd retrieve all they had lost again.
Mean time
Augustus Army marches on,
And all our Cities the Great Conqu'ror own,
The Brave Deliv'rer's Praises celebrate,
And each again possess'd his Ancient Seat;
Thus far his banish'd Subjects are restor'd,
And owe their Safeties to their Leading Lord.
Caesario routed, quits
Hybernia's Land,
But to his Gen'rals leaves his last Commands,
To make the War defensive at their Home,
Till large Supplies did to their Succour come;
But if the Foe by fresh Attempts press'd on,
To Man their Strong Holds, & defend each Town;
That thus they might the Enemy sustain,
And try once more their Fate the next Campaign.
One Garrison they held, well mann'd, & strong,
Where
Shannon's Streams in Murmurs lave along;
The strongest that
Hybernia's Kingdom knows,
And bold Resistance oft had shewn the Foes;
Its Works employ'd each skilful Engineer,
All Sons of Art, expert in Rules of War.
Thick Walls the Cities Circuits round command,
And Bastions at convenient Distance stand;
Deep Trenches Pales of sharpn'd Wood secur'd,
That Men on Duty seem'd to be Immur'd;
Their mounted Guns dismaying Prospects yield,
And scour around the low adjoining Fields.
No ancient Forts cou'd with this Strength compare,
So much they have improv'd the Art of War:
But as in Herbs which noxious Juices fill,
A Counter-poyson still the Venom kills,
Augustus by a Train as dreadful knows
To make Approaches, and reduce his Foes.
They had consider'd where their Weakness lay,
And on what Side they were expos'd a Prey;
Too well the Strength of our Artill'ry's known,
If we before this Garrison sat down,
No Humane Pow'r cou'd save the sinking Town.
Our Conqu'ring Army now the Place surround,
The chearful Pioneers break up the Ground;
Our Batt'ring Pieces on the March were near,
With plenteous Stores, and Tools adapt for War;
Security had lull'd us sure asleep,
We'd surely drank of
Lethe's Fluid deep;
Neglect there was that spoil'd this great Design,
One Rising Sun had brought them to our Lines;
I'th' midst of Shades, when Slumbers clos'd each Eye,
And Thought lay bury'd in Obscurity,
Or Memory it self cou'd not retain
The Products of a wild prolifick Brain,
An Ambush of the Foes our Guards surprize,
Fill all with Blood, Confusion, Wounds, & Noise;
The Powder-Stores flash bright, and sound in Air,
So near the Camp, they told aloud the War:
They nail the Guns, the Carriages destroy,
And all the needful Tools we shou'd employ.
This Fact accomplish'd, joyful, they retire,
And leave whate'er's Combustible on fire.
From neighb'ring Garrisons we draw Supplies,
The Soldiers quick erect their Batteries,
The Cannon play severe to force a Breach,
And Bombs from Air an hideous Language teach:
Sure lisping Infants that escape the Doom,
Will ne'er admire that Speech in Years to come;
The Roofs of Houses levell'd, stoop to Ground,
The Bombs in deepest Cells and Caverns wound;
Carcasses set the Buildings all on Fire,
The Flame and Smoke the Firmament aspire;
New Lights were kindl'd in the ambient Air,
And shone as bright as glaring
Phaebus there.
What cou'd they in this Exigency do?
Fatigu'd with Toil, no Rest their Eye-lids know;
Disturb'd by Night, and all distress'd by Day,
Incessant still the Guns and Mortars play:
Their frequent Sallies no Advantage gain,
They lost their Youth, and dar'd Efforts in vain;
Their last Defence depended on their Mines,
The Ultimate of all their form'd Designs.
Augustus for a gen'ral Storm prepares,
With one Assault to finish all the War;
Appoints Detachments for this Enterprize,
Back'd with Reserves to yield their tim'd Supplies;
The Signal to advance they only wait,
To force the Town, or tempt a Noble Fate.
Here all the Scenes of Horror might be seen,
That can destructive Fancies entertain.
If e'er Contempt of Death possess'd the Mind,
If that's imputed Brave in Humane Kind,
The Soldiers here that Quality display,
On this remarkable, unhappy Day;
In Order close they enter on the Storm,
And die in Ranks, e'er any Feats perform;
Now to the Forts and Pallisades they come,
Here either Side dispense alike their Dooms;
Granadoes in their deep Entrenchments fly,
And force from thence the wounded Enemy.
These Out-works gain'd, a near Approach they make,
The close Besieg'd this tim'd Advantage take,
They fire their Mines, and Flames, like moving Spheres,
Scatter Battalions up in scorching Air,
Stifl'd in Smoke, or else consum'd in Fire,
Sad Choice inevitable! they expire.
Some thro' the Breach advance within the Town,
They're Pris'ners made, or slain they tumble down.
What Men cou'd act, these valiant Minds perform,
And to the last Extreme pursu'd the Storm.
The thin Remains
Augustus calls away,
Chears them with Praises, and augments their Pay,
Draws off his Troops, and waits the next Campaign
His disappointed Laurels to regain.
'Midst these Misfortunes, these confus'd Affairs,
Out from their Ports the
Gallick Navy steers:
Too sure our Friendly Foes at home betray
Our Weakness, and a certain List convey
Of all our Fleet, our want of Stores make known.
Now was the Time —
We must or burn, or in th' Abyss sink down.
Too true it was, we unprovided were
Of Necessaries, and Supplies for War;
Nor cou'd our numbers with their Fleet compare.
The
Franks press fiercely forward to assail,
Eager to seize the Game, and to prevail;
Our Admiral saw it was in vain to fight,
Loth to retire, to save his Ships by flight;
Our hardy Seamen knew not to retreat,
Knew not to yield to be unfortunate;
They who had oft the
Gallick Pow'r withstood,
And writ their Dooms in Characters of Blood;
The
Royal Sovereign dash'd its angry Planks
On foaming Waves, to be thus brav'd by
Franks.
The Signal hois'd, commands our Fleet to veer
Away, and to their Harbours streight to steer;
Just like fierce Lions chas'd on
Libya's Plains,
Where Monarchs o'er submissive Herds they reign,
When Hunters, Dogs, and Toils, and Arms assail,
They move Majestick, lashing with the Tail,
And leave the Field, not knowing to prevail:
So with Disdain th' unequal War we quit,
Resign the Ocean to the
Gallick Fleet.
What present Loss of Fame we did sustain,
Succeeding Years with Int'rest will regain;
A future Navy will in Strength appear
T' eclipse their
Sun, and
Mighty Thunderer.
What Joy can this create to
Albion's Sons,
To see themselves by haughty
Gauls outdone?
By those who e'rst were Vassals to our Fame,
We in our Arms their ravish'd Ensigns claim.
Were they the Sons of
Rome that did conspire
To form our Woe, and set the Land on Fire?
It was the best we cou'd expect from them;
We're on our Guard, & knew to quench the Flame.
But this degen'rate Brood, this Vip'rous Race,
The Stamps of all Morality deface;
Divinity is made a meer Pretence
To chequer their unbounded Insolence;
Their Consciences they impiously debase,
T' indulge their Humours, and disturb the Peace:
It's certain then, that
Bedlam, or the Bar,
Best suited to their Constitutions are.
This Year with various Turns of Fortune ends;
Success and Loss successively attend:
Janus revers'd, now turns a youthful Face;
Old
Time renew'd, starts forth to run his Race;
The Sun, the Planets, and revolving Spheres,
Begin afresh, and date a future Year;
Their Influences variously inclin'd
The diff'rent Dispositions of Mankind:
But
Europe chiefly their Conjunctions warm
With Martial Heat, and spur it on to arm.
The awful Senate of our Nation meets,
Augustus for
Hybernian Conquests greets;
That Senate which contending Monarchs awes,
That to the stubborn Universe gives Laws;
Awful as once the ancient
Romans were,
Supreme in Peace, commanding all in War;
That Senate which compells from
Gaul a Dread,
She blushing, silent, owns her self afraid;
This Senate freely do their Treasures give,
T' assert
Britannia's Great Prerogative.
Drums thro' our Towns the Young and Valiant warm,
Their Courage rowz'd, undaunted now they arm;
Some to reduce
Hybernia's Island sent,
And others to th' Confederate Continent:
Marines are listed, and detach'd on Board,
These to the active Crews their Aids afford.
And now to lead the
Rising Sun a Dance,
And introduce a
Chorus worthy
France,
Strong Machins fix'd in Vessels on the Sea,
Thro' yielding Air their dreadful Balls convey;
Their Maritime Towns with Ruine we invade,
And level them as low as
Troy was laid;
Their kindl'd Cities high in
Aether blaze,
And frighted
Paris, and
Versailes amaze:
We now defie the Pow'rs of
Gaul and
Rome,
'Gainst all our Foes we're fenc'd, but those at home.
Of all the deep Projections they laid down,
Chief of the num'rous rest, take this for one:
This true, this sure
Hypothesis they laid,
To quell our Arms, is to eclipse our Trade:
Our Force by Land and Sea too expert grown,
In Arms have all Corrivals quite out-done:
Augustus yet escap'd their dated Day,
They'll now destroy him in
Effigie.
Swarms of a miscreant Generation join
T' adult'rate, and diminish
Albion's Coin;
You might distinguish here a Copper Head,
With a thin Sheet of
Sterling nicely spread;
The Subject thus, by hoarding Heaps of Coin,
Bankrupts himself, and is by 's Cash undone.
The rav'nous Sheers had such strange Havock made,
The Royal Charm protected not the Head,
They pierc'd the Circle, and cut off the Beard.
These, like
Prometheus Vultures, with their Art
Destroy'd the Whole, by preying on a Part.
Yet 'midst these Troubles, massie Sums must go
To Foreign Lands, to check the spreading Foe.
No Art but Fire this Mischief cou'd redress;
It's order'd to run down th' infected Mass,
And separate the Tin, and Lead, and Brass.
And now it's glowing in the
Cupulo,
Here floats
Peru, there richer
Mexico.
This Turn of Treasure has their Plots out done,
We now proceed to finish what's begun.
Our Fleet was fitting ready for the Main,
Hybernia early opens the Campaign;
The Gen'rals there have a Supreme Command;
Augustus stays
Britannia to defend:
The Soldiers all invoke his
Genius there,
By that inspir'd, they prosecute the War;
They force each Pass that did obstruct their Way,
And in a well fought Battel gain'd the Day:
The Garrisons at their Approach are quell'd,
And all
Hybernia to
Augustus yields.
The Conqu'ring Army cross the hilly Main,
And into
Flanders carry the Campaign,
Th' injurious
Franks at their own Doors to meet,
And to their very Gates convey their Fate.
Thus
Scipio reliev'd his Native
Rome,
When
Hannibal had
Italy o'ercome,
Transports the Face of War to
Carthage Walls,
Whilst
Africk all before his Conduct falls.
Now bounding Waves our Royal Navy bear,
With all the Strength and Pomp that graces War:
Neptune ne'er saw the like upon the Main;
It pleas'd, yet did surprize the Sea-born Train;
The
Nymphs, and
Nereids, and the
Syrens come,
And with ecstatick Wonder are struck dumb;
Our Martial Musick echo'd on the Sea,
And made a Warlike pleasing Harmony.
The
Gallick Prince well-woven Plots had laid,
This Summer the great Game of
France was plaid;
By Land
Augustus must by Ruffians die,
He's on the Sea secure of Victory;
He'd then conduct
Caesario to the Throne,
Or for himself claim conquer'd
Albion.
How Man projects! But Fate directs his Road,
And baffles his Endeavours with a Nod.
Our Men of War in proper Stations stood,
And forwards lave, and spoom it o'er the Flood;
The frisking Winds veer oft, and change the Gale;
Our chearful Seamen know to hand each Sail:
The Soldiers, all in Heart, all Things prepare,
Or for Offensive, or Defensive War.
Upon the Top-mast-head aloft they spy,
If Fortune offer'd yet an Enemy:
And now they see the
Gallick Fleet draw near,
With chearful Shouts they rend the very Air;
No Muse their eager Strains of Joy can tell,
Their Raptures all were inexpressible;
Revenge with Courage join, and brave Disdain,
Now to retrieve their tarnish'd Fame again.
The other, haughty with Success, bear down,
Insultingly conclude the Day their own.
Our Gunners all in readiness prepare,
Th' incumber'd Decks, and ev'ry Gun they clear;
Their Cabins and their Hammocks level laid,
They no Repose expected now in Bed.
Here Stores of missive Shot and Cartridge lie,
The Guns of large and smaller Size supply;
Red Waste-clothes ev'ry Ship encompass round,
To skreen the Men and Boys, and save a Wound;
The Bloody Flag and Pendent they display,
And Drums and Trumpets make a noisie Day.
The
Franks dismiss their murd'ring Balls from far,
And at a distance prosecute the War;
But our bold
Britans other Orders know,
To th' Windward urge, and near approach the Foe;
They slight their pelting Shot, and strive to gain
So close, as not t' expend one Ball in vain.
And now their fiery Sides each other meet,
In Flame and Smoke alternately they greet;
Betwixt their Decks we rake them thro' and thro',
Our Cross-bar Shots burst in, and all destroy;
The wrested Splinters with wild Ruine rake,
Wheree'er they touch vast hideous Wounds they make;
Limbless their Bodies on the Decks are thrown,
Or in the very midst asunder torn.
The
Gallick Ships with gushing Blood run o'er,
And the green Sea's disguis'd with Crimson Gore;
Here scatter'd Brains and Members lie around,
And gasping Corps deform'd with many a Wound
Old hoary
Neptune shook his Ouzy Head,
And with his frighted Nymphs agast, he fled,
Div'd to the bottom of the tinctur'd Main,
And there secur'd himself and all his Train.
This Bloody Carnage neither Side dismay'd;
Each Broad-side by another is repaid:
They tack about, and pour in large Replies,
Loud as tumultuous Thunder in the Skies;
Their Small-shot thick as falling Hail does fly,
Now Board to Board contending Squadrons ply;
Each grapples close, and lash themselves secure,
And all Extreams of Service now endure:
Burning Granadoes thrown scour all the Decks,
Men fall, and hear each others rueful Shricks;
With reeking Swords upon the Deck they come,
And, sure of Conquest, meet untimely Doom;
The Powder-Chests by fatal Trains take Fire,
Blown up, they mount in Air, and there expire.
Their Bodies scorch'd, in horrid Show'rs descend,
Hiss in the cooler Waves, and gasp their End;
Others to shun the Flames, espouse the Sea,
Float there a while, then sink, and lose the Day.
Here by a thousand Wounds some Ships you'll see
Boar'd thro', let in whole Deluges of Sea,
Sinking with Weight, to
Neptune's Courts they go,
And fathom Eddies in th' Abyss below.
Here kindl'd Fire-ships, like
Vulcano's, ride,
Dispense their curling Flames, resistless, wide;
Hissing they roll upon the heated Flood,
And scatter an infectious Neighbourhood.
Their Vessels burn in Lines, and from afar
Appear like Beacons that proclaim a War;
Here blaz'd their
Second, and their
Rising Sun
Finds equal Fate with daring
Phaeton;
Their Hulls in Flames disclose a dismal Sea,
Where shatter'd Wrecks, and floating Bodies lay.
A num'rous List of Ships their Navy lost;
Some few escape with Tidings to their Coasts;
Disabl'd some, they float, and make no Way,
They've not a Prow, nor Helm, nor Shrowd to play;
Their Masts all levell'd on the Decks fall down,
And they must chuse their Fate, to burn, or drown.
Not longer able to sustain the Fight,
They fly, and we pursue them by their Light;
Ruine and Death we to their Shores convey,
The Fame we lost before, we win this Day;
Teach the presumptuous
Gauls our Rule to know,
And force them to
Britannia's Pow'r to bow.
If Humane Joys cou'd claim a larger Date,
Not be precarious to the Frowns of Fate,
Mortality wou'd then aspire too high,
Twou'd Rival ev'n our Kindred in the Sky:
If Royalty and Greatness cou'd deterr
Misfortunes from a bold Approach too near;
Princes above a common Level grown,
Might always sit serene, and fill the Throne.
But Man's obnoxious all to Good and Ill,
Fortune and Death alike disturb and kill;
A sad Decree on
Fame's ill Wings did fly,
Now must the Fair, the Great Augusta
die.
Too true, too sure the heavy Tidings prove,
Her Royal Soul leaves Earth, and soars above:
Too near Perfection her Great Mind was grown,
Refin'd from Dross, disdain'd a Pressure down;
It mounted, like Aethereal Matter, high,
To visit, and inhabit in the Sky.
Augustus almost had with Grief expir'd,
Yea, for a while his mighty Soul retir'd,
And on the wing with hers was half ways gone,
So everlasting was the Union:
Fate interpos'd, and urg'd it down below,
To finish its Illustrious Stages thro'.
Who rightly can this Publick Loss disclose,
Too vast for Verse, and too sublime for Prose?
Yet
Burnet's Pen her wondrous Vertues told,
In his immortal Lines her deathless Fame's enroll'd.
'Twas sure to punish murm'ring
Albion's Land,
Albion that's cloy'd with Manna that descends,
That Heav'n this Star from our Horizon calls,
And leaves no Copy of th' Original;
Or that she was a Master-piece Divine,
And Nature must fall short, or end the Line.
Augustus still his Warlike Race pursues,
In Foreign Fields seeks out, and meets his Foes;
No Plots Domestick cou'd his Life invade,
Th' Assassines all, and their Designs betray'd.
Gallia at length fatigu'd, does Peace implore,
And to the World its ravish'd Spoils restores
Augustus rides in Triumph o'er the Main,
And sees
Britannia bless'd with Peace again.
FINIS.
Books printed for and sold by J. Sprint, at the Bell in Little Britain.
SYnopsis Medicinae: Or, A Compendium of the Theory and Practice of Physick. In Seven Books. Containing, I. The Elements or Principles of the Art. II. The Cure of Infants Diseases. III. The Cure of Diseases in the Head. IV. The Cure of Diseases in the Breast. V. The Cure of Diseases in the Belly. VI. The Cure of Diseases Universal. VII. The Cure of all sorts of Fevers. Shewing the Names, Signs, Causes, Differences, Prognosticks, and various Intentions of Curing all kinds of Diseases from Head to Foot, hapning to Humane Bodies. Galenically and Chymically performed. The like never published before in any Language whatsoever. The Fourth Edition. Wherein, besides the Addition of nearly the whole First Book, there are several Hundreds of other Additions, Alterations, and Amendments, throughout the whole Work. By William Salmon, Professor of Physick.
The Trades-man's Calling. Being a Discourse concerning the Nature, Necessity, Choice, &c. of a Calling in general: And, Directions for the right managing of the Trades-men's Calling in particular. By Richard Steele, M. A. and Minister of the Gospel. The Second Edition.
De Quatuor Summis Imperiis. An Historical Account of the Four Chief Monarchies or Empires of the World: Viz. I. The Assyrian, or Babylonian. II. The Persian. III. The Grecian. IV. The [Page] Roman, continued down to the Beginning of the Reign of the Emperor Charles the Fifth. Being a Relation of the most considerable Occurrences that have hapned in the World from Noah's Flood to the Year of our Lord J. C. 1520. Written in Latin by John Sleidan, sometime Ambassador in England from the Protestant States of Germany, Deputy for the City of Strasburgh in the Council of Trent, and Author of The History of the Reformation of Religion in Germany. Now newly Englished: With his Life.
Innocent Diversion for the Ladies, Gentlewomen, and Maidens, Being a Looking-glass for the Fair Sex; wherein, by a curious Book of Fortune, they may find out Answers to their most doubtful Questions which can be proposed. With a large Interpretation of Dreams and Visions, incident to the Fair Sex. Translated from the French.
The Pious Man's Directions: Shewing how to walk with God all his Days. By a Well-wisher of the Whole Duty of Man. The Third Edition.
An Explicatory Catechism: Or, An Explanation of the Assemblies Shorter Catechism. Wherein all the Answers in the Assemblies Catechism are taken abroad in Under-Questions and Answers, the Truths explained, and proved by Reason and Scripture; several Cases of Conscience resolved; some chief Controversies in Religion stated, with Arguments against divers Errors: Useful to be read in Private Families, after Examination in the Catechism it self; for the more clear and thorow understanding of what is therein learned. By Thomas Vincent, sometimes Minister of Maudlin Milk-street in London.
A Treatise concerning the Lord's Supper: With Three Dialogues for the more full Information of the Weak, in the Nature and Use of this Sacrament. By Tho. Doolittle. The Nineteenth Edition.
Time, and the End of Time: In Two Discourses. The First about Redemption of Time: The Second about Consideration of our Latter End. By John Fox.
A Spark from the Altar: Or, A Sure Guide to Communicants, before, at, and after Receiving the Lord's Supper. Consisting of Meditations, Hymns, and Prayers for every Day in the Week. To which is added, Directions for Holy Living and Dying. With a Pathetick Discourse on Death, Judgment, Heaven, and Hell.
Cookery Refin'd: Or, The Lady, Gentlewoman, and Servant-Maids useful Companion. I. Containing the curious Arts of Dressing all sorts of Flesh, Fish, and Fowl, various Ways, after the newest Mode; with their proper Seasonings, Sauces, Garnishes, Serving up, and Carving. II. The Experienced Pastry Cook, in all Particulars. To which is added, The Art of Pickling Fruits, Buds, Herbs, Flowers, Roots, Stalks, &c. By Mrs. A. M. a long Practiser in this Curious Art.
Arts Master-piece: Or, A Companion for the Ingenious of either Sex. Containing, I. The Art of Limning and Painting in Oil, &c. in all Particulars, viz. Drawing and Painting Faces, Bodies, Garments, Landskip, Preparing and Laying on Colours; also Colouring Mezzotinto Prints, Gilding on Wood, Metals, and Leather. [Page]II. The newest Experiment in Japanning, to imitate the Indian Way, Plain and in Speckles, Rockwork, Figures, &c. Receipts for making the several sorts of Varnishes, Colours, &c. III. To make Artificial Tortoise-shell; to Dye or Stain Ivory, Horn, Stone, Bristles, Feathers, and sundry sorts of Woods for Cabinets. IV. The Mystery of Dying Silks, Stuffs, Woollen and Linnen Cloth. V. To take Spots, Stains, Pitch, Tar, and Iron-Molds, out of Silks, Stuffs, Linnen, and Woollen, and to recover Faded Silks, Linnen, &c. VI. The Art of Perfuming and Beautifying. VII. Divers Physical and Chirurgical Receipts. VIII. To make London Powder-Ink, other Powder-Inks, and the shining Japan-Ink. With many other notable Things. By C. K.
The Experienc'd Fowler: Or, The Gentleman, Citizen, and Country-man's pleasant and profitable Recreation. Containing, I. The true Art of Taking Water and Land-Fowl, with divers kinds of Nets, Lime-Twigs, Lime-Bushes, and how to make the best Bird Lime. II. Directions for Bat-Fowling, Lowbelling, Tramelling, and Driving Fowl; how to find their Haunts, and take them with Springes, Snares, &c. III. An exact Method for using the Fowling-piece at a true Level, to shoot at the Water, Ground, Bush, or Flying. IV. How to make Shot, proportion the Charge, and know good Powder; with the proper Use of the Stalking-Horse, Bush, Hedge, and how to manage them. V. Of Singing-Birds, their Diseases and Cure. VI. How to distinguish all sorts of Poulterers Ware, &c. VII. To which is added, Directions for destroying all manner of Vermine.
The true Art of Angling, &c.