An ANSWER to a late Abusive Pamphlet, Intituled, The True-Born ENGLISHMAN, &c. Together with the True Character of A True Englishman.
A Certain
Barber, fraught with much Ill Nature,
Having thrust out into the World a Satyr,
Which, that he may his Reader best Trapan
To Read, he Stiles,
The True-Born Englishman:
Wherein he goes about, with no small Stir,
The Character of
Englishmen to Slur;
And all their Faults in Black and White Display:
But if himself be One, as he does say,
The Work but ill becomes him; for, at best,
Tis a
foul Bird that thus
bewrayes his Nest;
And all the Odium Casts he can devise,
With most apparent Falsities and Lies,
Upon his
Native Country-Men: Sure he,
At best, some
Bastard-Englishman must be:
For none, but such a One, could be so Base,
To fly, like him, into his Country's Face:
Peers and Plebeians he together mixes,
And upon all, his Envious Venom fixes.
Then, to Atone for all the Dirt he flings,
A Panegyrick on King
WILLIAM Sings:
But this, alas! is but a Feint he uses,
Whilst he the
English Nation thus Abuses:
We need not such black Pens as his, to Sing
Th' Unsully'd Glories of
Great Britain's King:
King
WILLIAM's Praise by
English Bards is Sung;
With
Abler Pens, and a
Diviner Tongue;
For His Great Actions show His Mighty Soul,
Ev'n from the
Arctick, to th'
Antarctick Pole.
And
Englishmen, maugre what He can say,
King
WILLIAM Love, and Honour, and Obey;
And do as much His Royal Title Own,
As any Monarch's e'er possess'd the Throne.
And therefore, that the World may plainly see
How very much unlike the
English be,
To what he represents them, I have here
Set down in Brief their proper Character:
The True-Englishman.
THE
Free-Born English, Generous and
Wise,
Hate
Chains, yet do not
Government Despise:
Rights of the
Crown, Tribute and
Taxes They,
When
Lawfully Exacted, Freely Pay;
Which cannot be, but by their
own Consent,
And given in a
Free-Chose Parliament:
Force they
Abhor, and
Wrongs they
Scorn to Bear;
And to Assert their
Rights they always Dare.
More guided by their
Judgment than their
Fear:
Justice by them was never held
Severe:
Their
Pow'r by
Tyranny was never got:
Laws may perhaps
inslave them, Force cannot:
Nor can their Freedom be by
Laws Destroy'd,
For
Laws 'gainst
Magna Charta still are
Void:
They therefore know (shou'd they be thus Betray'd)
Laws that are
Void, are not to be
Obey'd:
Kings are less Safe, in their
Ʋnbounded Will,
Joyn'd with the
Wretched Pow'r of
Doing Ill:
Forsaken most, when they're
most Absolute:
Laws GUARD the Man, and only BIND the Brute.
To force that Guard with its worst
Foe to Joyn,
Can never be a
Prudent King's Design:
What Prince would change to be a
Cataline?
Break his own Laws, shake the Unquestion'd Throne;
Contpire with Vassals to
Ʋsu
[...]p his Own?
Let
France grow Proud beneath the Tyrant's Lust,
Whilst the Wrac
[...]'d People Crawl, and lick the Dust:
The
Mighty Genius of this Isle Disdains
Both
High-shoon Slavery, and
Golden Chains.
England to Servile Yoke cou'd never Bow:
What
Conq'rours ne'er Presum'd, who dares do now?
In vain
Rome's Bishop then does Wrack his Brain;
No
Popish Prince can in this Island Reign.
Though
Spain be added to the Crown of
France,
It will their Courage, not their Fear, Enhance.
Arm'd with
Blest Bibles, and
Ʋndated Law,
They'll
guard Themselves, and
keep the World in Awe.
And 'tis their Honour,
Europe now must wait,
And from their
Great Resolves, Receive its Fate.
London, Printedby, and for Benj. Harris, next the Golden Boar's-Head, Grace-Church-Street, 1700.