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Full text of "An English garner .."

THE LIBRARY 

OF 

THE UNIVERSITY 

OF CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 



Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive 

in 2008 witii funding from 

IVIicrosoft Corporation 



http://www.archive.org/details/englishgarner08arbe 



LATER STUART TRACTS 



^N ENGLISH G^RNE% ■-'■'-' 



LATER 
STUART TRACTS 

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 
GEORGE A. AITKEN 



? 



WESTMINSTER 
ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND CO., LTD. 

1903 



A13 



Edinburgh : Printed by T. and A. Constable. 



NOTE 

It would be incompatible with the plan of this new edition 
of my friend Professor Arber's valuable English Garner to 
interfere in any way with his labours, beyond classifying the 
pieces contained in the collection in such a manner as to 
illustrate more fully the various topics on which they throw 
so much light. I have therefore contented myself with 
contributing to this volume an explanatory Introduction, 
leaving the text and the brief notes of the original edition 
as I found them. The only exception is the addition of the 
interesting Preface to the Eighth Volume of Defoe's ' Review,' 
which completes the series, and has never before been re- 
printed. 

G. A. A. 



CONTENTS 



Introduction, ....*• 

Sir William Petty- 
Political Arithmetic (1690), 

Daniel Defoe — 

An Appeal to Honour and Justice (1715)) 

The True-Born Englishman (1701), . 

The History of the Kentish Petition (1701), 

Legion's Memorial {1701), 

The Shortest Way with the Dissenters (1702), 

A Hymn to the Pillory (1703), 

The Review (Prefaces and Extracts) (1704-12}, 

Papers from the Review (1704), 

The Revolution of 1688 (17 10), 

The Education of Women (1697), 

John Arbuthnot — 

Law is a Bottomless Pit (1712), .... 

John Bull in his Senses (1712), . . . . 

John Bull still in his Senses (1712), . . . . 

An Appendix to John Bull still in his Senses (1712), 
Lewis Baboon turned honest, and John Bull politician (17 12), 



PAGB 

vii 



67 
109 

179 

187 

205 

22 I 
267 
275 
281 



28s 

359 
373 



INTRODUCTION 

Under the later Stuarts the newspaper press was in its 
infancy, and men who wished to influence public opinion 
on a question of the day usually published a pamphlet, 
which was read and discussed in coffee-houses, and was 
frequently answered by one or more pieces of the same 
nature. During the Civil War there were, indeed, various 
' Mercuries,' which during their usually brief existence gave 
their readers items of news, together with animadversions 
upon the opposite party, but most of the controversy was 
carried on by means of isolated pamphlets. 

After the Restoration the newspaper gradually grew in 
importance, but pamphlets remained the favourite medium 
for political controversy for more than half a century. Sir 
Roger L'Estrange, a prolific pamphleteer, started, in 1663, 
two weekly papers, the News and the Intelligencer, ' pub- 
lished for the satisfaction and information of the people.' 
These papers, written in defence of the Government, gave 
place in 1665 to the Oxford Gazette, which became the 
Londoti Gazette in the following year, on the return of the 
Court to town after the plague. The Gazette, however, 
contained little but paragraphs of news, official notices, and 
the like, and when men's minds were agitated by the Popish 
Plot in 1679-80, a host of pamphlets appeared on either side. 
At the same time L'Estrange brought out controversial 
periodicals, Hcraclitus Ridens, ' a discourse between jest and 



viii Later Stuart Tracts 

earnest, in opposition to all libellers against the Government,* 
and the Observator, which lasted for six years. 

Party politics, questions of church government, economic 
problems, literary quarrels — everything in which men were 
interested, formed the subject of pamphlets. Many of these 
pieces were, of course, by forgotten scribblers, for the cost 
of production was slight ; but they were also the means by 
which men like Marvell and Baxter made their views 
known to their contemporaries. In fact, the pamphlet 
fulfilled the purpose now served by a leading article in the 
Spectator or other influential paper, or by a letter from a 
public man in the Times. Sometimes the pamphlet was in 
verse, like Dryden's Medal or The Hind and the Panther, 
or (on the other side) Shadwell's Medal of John Bayes. 

In 1695, the year after the final disappearance of the 
system of press licensing, rival newspapers, the Flying Post 
and the Post Boy, appearing on three days in the week, 
were started by George Ridpath, a Presbyterian Whig, and 
by Abel Roper, a Tory bookseller, who was sometimes 
assisted, in later years, by paragraphs from Swift. It was 
not until 1702, after Queen Anne's accession, that the first 
daily paper, the Daily Courant, appeared. The editor said 
he should relate only matters of fact, avoiding comment 
or conjecture, and the paper in no way took the place of 
the pamphlet. Daniel Defoe had already begun to produce 
that long series of tracts on questions of the day which was 
continued for thirty years ; but he was essentially a journalist, 
and in 1704 he started the Review, of which some specimens 
are given in this volume. Defoe's paper is the forerunner 
of all the political reviews of to-day. Other papers, like 
Tutchin's Obsen>ator and Lesley's Rehearsal, which were 
constantly attacking each other, are now of interest only to 
the historian. 



Introduction ix 

One of the attractions of the periodical essay, of which 
the fashion was set by Steele in the Tatler, was the avoid- 
ance of party controversy ; but in later papers, such as 
the Guardian, Steele found, as he says, that ' parties were 
too violent to make it possible to pass them by without 
observation.' Even Addison was drawn into writing a 
Whig Examiner, besides one or two political pamphlets. 
Swift's work under Queen Anne illustrates very well the 
varied uses of the pamphlet. On behalf of the government 
he wrote the Conduct of the Allies and the Remarks on the 
Barrier Treaty, which were followed by many ephemeral 
pieces by himself or by * understrappers' writing under his 
supervision. In the controversy with Steele he published 
The Importance of the Guardian considered, in reply to The 
Importance of Dunkirk considered, and The Public Spirit of 
the Whigs, in reply to The Crisis. To church controversies he 
contributed his Project for the advajicement of Religion, and 
Sentiments of a CJiurch of Etigland mari. A serious literary 
question was discussed in the Proposal for converting, improv- 
ing, and ascertaining the English Tongue, while the Predic- 
tions for the year 1708 and other pieces formed part of a 
conspiracy of the wits against the astrologer Partridge. 
But convenient as was the pamphlet. Swift found it desir- 
able to use also the more modern weapon, the periodical ; 
and the Examiner, begun in 1710, contained a series of 
powerful political papers by him, and was continued by 
minor writers for four years. 

This is not the place to discuss the pamphlets on literary 
subjects which appeared under the later Stuarts ; but we 
may recall the fact that among them were Dryden's Essay 
of Dramatic Poesy (1668), Gildon's Comparison between the 
Two Stages (1704), several pieces by Dennis, Downes's 
Roscius Anglicanus (1708), Gay's Present State of Wit (lyi i). 



X Later Stuart Tracts 

and Pope's Essay on Criticism (171 1), all valuable to the 
literary student of to-day for the facts which they contain, 
and for the light which they throw on the way in which 
contemporaries viewed the writers or actors of that time. 

The pieces contained in this volume illustrate fairly well 
the tracts of the later Stuart period. They were originally 
selected on account of their intrinsic merit rather than as 
illustrative of the literature of a particular time, and it 
would of course be easy to suggest many pamphlets which 
might have been included. But Petty as an economic 
writer, Defoe as a journalist, and Arbuthnot as a wit, writ- 
ing on the side of the Government, are sufficiently repre- 
sentative. Swift is not directly included, but he was no 
doubt consulted in the writing of the History of John Bull, 
and his works are readily obtainable. 

The first piece here given is one of a series of little books 
by Sir William Petty, whose publisher sometimes com- 
plained that the manuscript sent him ' made no sufficient 
bulk,' to which Petty replied, ' I could wish the bulk of all 
books were less.' Petty's own books certainly contain much 
matter in a little space. He was deeply interested in social 
problems, and his writings give the result of a wide ex- 
perience of men and of affairs. 

As a boy, Sir William Petty was interested in mechanics. 
He tried the sea, studied at a Jesuit college and at Dutch 
universities, and at Paris formed a friendship with Hobbes. 
For a time he followed his father's business as a clothier ; 
then he wrote on education, invented a manifold letter- 
writer, and moved to Oxford, where he took the degree of 
doctor of physic, and lectured on anatomy. In 1652 he 
was appointed physician-general to the army in Ireland, 
and was found so useful in reorganising the service that he 



Introduction xi 

was asked to supervise the survey of the forfeited estates of 
Irish landowners, and ultimately to carry out the re-settle- 
ment in that country. After the Restoration Petty was in 
as much favour with Charles II. as he had been with Henry 
Cromwell ; and he was knighted at the incorporation of the 
Royal Society (1662), of which he was one of the earliest 
members. Evelyn says of him : ' There is not a better 
Latin poet living, when he gives himself that diversion; 
nor is his excellence less in council and prudent matters 
of state. . . . There were not in the whole world his 
equal for a superintendent of manufacture and improve- 
ment of trade, or to govern a plantation. If I were a 
prince, I should make him my second counsellor at least.' 
And Pepys, after mentioning various distinguished men, 
says, ' But above all I do value Sir William Petty.' 

The Political Arithmetick appeared in 1690, two years 
after Petty's death, but there had been a spurious edition 
in 1683. The book seems to have been begun about 
1671 and finished about 1677. As early as 1662 Petty 
published a Treatise of Taxes and Contributions ^ and assisted 
Captain John Graunt in the preparation of Natural and 
Political Observations upon the Bills of Mortality. After 
various tracts on money. Petty published, in 1682, an Essay 
in Political Arithmetick, concerning the people, housing, 
hospitals, etc., of Loud 071 and Paris, and A71 Essay concerning 
the multiplication of Mankind, together with an Essay on the 
growth of London. These were followed by Another Essay 
in Political A rithmetick concerning the growth of the City of 
London, and in 1687 by Five Essays in Political Arithmetick, 
and Observations upon the Cities of London and Rome. ^ 

^ A collected edition of Petty's Economic Writings, by Prof. Hull, was 
published in two volumes in 1899 ; several of the pieces mentioned above are 



xii Later Stuart Tracts 

There was no census in this country before 1801, and 
Petty had to base his calculations on the Bills of Mortality, 
the statistics of the Chimney Tax, and the like. He was 
conscious of the imperfect nature of the data on which he 
worked, and he often resorted to guesses, but his guesses 
were wonderfully acute, and considering the difficulties in 
his way, his success was very marked. Frank and liberal- 
minded, Petty occupies a high rank as a writer on politics, 
and by virtue of his application of statistics to social questions, 
he was one of the founders of economic science in England. 
Evelyn seems to have done an injustice to Graunt when he 
said {Diary, March 22, 1675) that Petty was 'author of the 
ingenious deductions from the bills of mortality which go 
under the name of Mr. Graunt ' ; but Graunt, though entitled 
to most of the credit for that early work on vital statistics, 
was not an economist like Petty. There are many contra- 
dictions and reservations in Petty's writings, sometimes due 
to his not having shaken himself free from prevalent 
fallacies, and sometimes the result of prudential con- 
siderations as to what would be palatable ; but in the 
main he was on the side of free-trade, and opposed to the 
prevalent belief that the wealth of a country is to be 
measured by the excess of its exports over the imports. 

After Petty's death his widow was created Baroness 
Shelburne by James II. Their son, who was created Lord 
Shelburne, dedicated to William III. his father's posthumous 
w^ork, Political Arithmetick, which had long remained unpub- 
lished because it ran counter to the French policy which 
had been in favour under Charles II. In the preface Petty 

included in one of the volumes of Cassell's National Library (1888). A detailed 
Life, by Lord Edmond Fitzmaurice, appeared in 1895. ^^ article by Mr. W. C. 
Bevan, in vol. ix. of the American Economic Association's Proceedings, should 
also be consulted. 



Introduction xiii 

says that the work was intended to show the baselessness 
of the prevalent fears respecting the welfare of England. 
The method adopted was ' not yet very usual.' * Instead 
of using only comparative and superlative words and 
intellectual arguments/ Petty expressed himself *in terms 
of number, weight, or measure,' using only 'arguments of 
sense,' and considering only such causes as have visible 
foundations in Nature. He began by showing that a small 
country, by its situation, trade, and policy, may be equivalent 
in wealth and strength to a far greater nation, and that 
conveniences for shipping eminently conduce to wealth and 
strength. An English husbandman earned but about four 
shillings a week, whereas a seaman's earnings (including 
food and lodging) were equal to twelve shillings, so 'a sea- 
man is in effect three husbandmen.' Wise points in Dutch 
policy were Liberty of Conscience, the securing of titles to 
land and houses, and the institution of banks. Petty then 
proceeded to show that some taxes increase, rather than 
diminish, the wealth of a kingdom. If money is taken, by 
means of taxation, from one who spends it in superfluous 
eating and drinking, and delivered to another who employs 
it in improving land, or in manufactures, it is clear that the 
tax is an advantage to the state. The people and territories 
of the King of England are, naturally, nearly as considerable 
for wealth and strength as those of France. ' If a man 
would know what any land is worth, the true and natural 
question must be, How many men will it feed? How many 
men are there to be fed ? ' Petty came to the conclusion 
that the English people ' have, head for head, thrice as 
much foreign trade as the people of France, and about two 
parts out of nine of the trade of the whole commercial 
world, and above two parts in seven of all the shipping.' 



xlv Later Stuart Tracts 

The impediments to England's greatness were but con- 
tingent and removable. Many useful reforms could be 
effected. Might not the three kingdoms be united into 
one, and equally represented in Parliament ? Might not 
parishes, etc., be equalised? Might not jurisdictions be 
determined ? Might not taxes be equally levied, and 
directly applied to their ultimate use? Might not Dis- 
senters be indulged ? There were enough lands in the 
country to enable earnings to be increased by i^2,ooo,ooo a 
year, and there were employments available for the purpose. 
There was enough money to drive the trade of the nation, 
and capital enough in England to drive the trade of the 
whole commercial world. 

Such are some of Petty's conclusions, worked out by the 
use of the figures which were to hand, or at which he 
guessed. The whole treatise is interesting because of the 
ingenuity of the arguments and the enlightened views of 
the writer. As he says, he showed (i) the use of knowing 
the true state of the people, trade, etc. ; (ii) that the king's 
subjects were not in so bad a condition as discontented 
men would make them; and (iii) the great effect of unity, 
industry, and obedience on the common safety and on the 
happiness of the individual. 

Petty's influence is very discernible in succeeding writers. 
Gregory King, Lancaster Herald, wrote his interesting 
Natural atid Political Observations and Conclusions upon the 
State and Condition of Ettgland in 1696 ; extracts from it 
were published by Charles Davenant, but the work itself 
was not printed until 1801. Davenant wrote Discourses 
on the Public Revenues and of the Trade in England (1698) ; 
An Essay upon the probable methods of making the people 
gainers in the Balance of Trade (1699), and other treatises 



Introduction xv 

on finance and public affairs. But before these came 
Defoe's Essay upon Projects (1697), a work which is full of 
interesting information, and of enlightened suggestions 
on banking, bankruptcy, friendly societies, education, and 
numerous other questions of public import. This book, 
in which Petty would have delighted, is here represented 
by an eloquently worded extract on the advantages of the 
education of women. 

For a right understanding of the pamphlets by Defoe 
given in this volume, some short account is necessary of 
the events which led to their production. The masterly 
Appeal to Honour and Justice should be studied by all 
who are interested in Defoe's course of action under 
Queen Anne.^ 

Defoe was about forty years of age in 1700, when 
Tutchin attacked William III. in a pamphlet called The 
Foreigners. As a boy, it was intended that Defoe should 
enter the Nonconformist ministry, and he was placed at 
the academy of the Rev. Charles Morton, at Stoke Newing- 
ton, where he learnt several languages, and was well 
trained in English. But after a time the idea of the 
ministry was abandoned, and Defoe became a hose-factor 
in Cornhill. The accession of James II. brought fears of 
Popish aggression, and when the Duke of Monmouth 
landed at Lyme, Defoe, with some of his old schoolfellows, 
joined in the rising. He was fortunate enough to escape 
the fate which awaited many of his comrades at the hands 
of Judge Jeffreys after the Duke's defeat at Sedgemoor. 



' There are lives of Defoe by William Lee, Wright, and others. Defoe's 
Romances and Narratives, with an introduction by the present writer, were pub- 
lished in 16 vols, in 1S95. ^ large number of the pamphlets are included in 
Hazlitt's edition of Defoe's Works (1840-3) in 3 vols. 

b 



xvi - Later Stuart Tracts 

In the succeeding years Defoe followed his business, and 
made several tours through the country, studying the life 
and condition of the people. He was made a liveryman 
of the City, and established a dissenting congregation at 
Tooting, where he had a house. 

Discontent at the acts of James II. grew in intensity, 
and when William of Orange landed in 1688 Defoe was 
among those who went to welcome him. At Henley he 
joined William's army, and in 1689 he rode as a trooper 
in a volunteer regiment which escorted William and Mary 
to the Guildhall. Subsequent years were less prosperous ; 
speculations in foreign trade, which led to visits to Spain 
and France, involved Defoe in bankruptcy in 1692. A 
composition was agreed to, but his opponent Tutchin tells 
us that Defoe carried out his resolve tha*-, though dis- 
charged, he would pay his creditors in full, ' as far as God 
should enable him.' He became owner of brick and pan- 
tile works at Tilbury ; and as a reward for his services in 
joining 'with some eminent persons at home in proposing 
ways and means to the Government for raising money 
to supply the occasions of the war,' he was appointed 
Accountant to the Commissioners of the Glass Duty. 
The Essay upon Projects was followed by A Poor Man's 
P/m (1698), which dealt with the reformation of manners 
and the suppressing of immorality, questions which were 
just then engaging much public attention. 

The publication by Tutchin, in August 1700, of The 
Foreigners, an attack on the King and the Dutch nation, 
led Defoe to write The True-Born Englishman: A Satyr 
(Jan. 1701), which was an immense success. In pointed 
doggrel verses he showed how the English were descended 
from many races : — 



Introduction xvii 

* From a mixture of all kinds began 
That heterogeneous thing, an Englishman ; 
A T?ue-Born Ettglishnian 's a contradiction ! 
In speech an irony ! in fact, a fiction ! ' 

The conclusion of the whole was that ' 'Tis personal virtue 
only makes us great.' * I am one,' says Defoe in the 
Preface, 'that would be glad to see Englishmen behave 
themselves better to strangers, and to governors also : 
that one might not be reproached in foreign countries for 
belonging to a nation that wants manners.' The publica- 
tion of the poem led to Defoe's introduction to William III., 
' whose goodness to me,' he says, ' I never forgot, neither 
can forget ; whose memory I never patiently heard abused, 
nor ever can do so.' 

A new Parliament met in February 1701, with Robert 
Harley as Speaker. The majority was opposed to the 
King, and came into conflict with the House of Lords. 
Five Kentish gentlemen, who brought up a petition urging 
the House of Commons to give His Majesty such supplies 
as would enable him to provide for the interests of the 
country and assist his allies, were ordered to be taken into 
custody by the sergeant-at-arms, and were afterwards, on 
May the 13th, committed to the Gate-House prison, under 
the Speaker's warrant. Next day Defoe, accompanied by 
sixteen gentlemen, went to the House and delivered to 
the Speaker his Leg-ion's Memorial, in which it was pointed 
out, in very plain language, that ' Englishmen are no more 
to be slaves to Parliament than to a king. Our name is 
Legion, and we are many.' The House seems to have 
been cowed ; supplies were voted ; Parliament rose, and 
the prisoners were released. Defoe's account of the whole 
matter will be found in his History of the Kentish Petition. 



xviii Later Stuart Tracts 

King William's death in March 1702 was a serious blow 
to Defoe. The friends of Queen Anne were among the 
Tories, and she was a strong churchwoman. War was 
declared against France and Spain in May, and in the 
new Parliament the Tories had a large majority. In 
November a Bill for the prevention of Occasional Con- 
formity was brought in, but it was lost through the dis- 
agreement of the Lords. This bill disabled from holding 
their employments all office-holders who had conformed 
as required by the Act of 1673, but who afterwards went 
to any meeting for worship not conducted in accordance 
with the liturgy of the Church of England ; it also made 
them liable to penalties, and debarred them from holding 
office until they had conformed for a year. Public feeling 
ran high ; chapel windows were broken, and some of the 
more moderate bishops were accused of betraying their 
Church. Defoe followed up his Enquiry into Occasional 
Conformity by his famous pamphlet, The Shortest Way 
with the Dissenters, published on the ist of December 1702. 
Writing ironically in the guise of an extreme churchman, 
he showed the absurdity of the prevalent intolerance by 
pushing the argument against Dissenters to extremes. 
The Church, he said, had been humiliated for fourteen 
years ; she had too long harboured her enemies under her 
wing. 'The time of mercy is past! Your day of grace is 
over!' If James i. had rooted the Puritans from the face 
of the land they could not since have vexed the Church. 
The French king had effectually cleared France of Pro- 
testants: ' If ever you will leave your posterity free from 
friction and rebellion, this is the time ! ' Fines were use- 
less ; the proper remedy was a law that whoever was found 
at a conventicle should be banished, and the preacher be 



Introduction xix 

hanged. At first, such severity might seem hard, but the 
contagion would be rooted out. 

It is not surprising that the pamphlet deceived many. 
Dissenters regarded it as an attack, and when it was found 
to be by a dissenter, they did not agree with the writer's 
views on Occasional Conformity. On the other hand, 
violent churchmen were furious when they found that the 
piece which they had greatly valued was a satire upon them. 
Defoe made an unavailing appeal to the Earl of Nottingham, 
the Secretary of State, in which he described himself as ' a 
zealous, faithful, and thankful servant of the Queen,' and 
offered to plead guilty if he might receive a sentence 'a 
little more tolerable to me as a gentleman than prisons, 
pillories, and such like.' A reward was offered for his 
apprehension, and the pamphlet was ordered to be burnt by 
the common hangman. Then Defoe surrendered, 'rather 
than others should be ruined by his mistake,' and in July 
1703, after he had published A Brief Explanation of the 
Shortest Way, he was tried, fined, and ordered to stand 
thrice in the pillory, and to find sureties for good behaviour 
for seven years. Defoe again prayed to be excused from 
the pillory without result ; but when the time came, it was 
found to be a triumph instead of a punishment, for the mob 
received him with enthusiasm. On the first day on which 
he stood in the pillory (July 19) he published The Shortest 
Way to Peace and Union, by which he meant common 
charity and tolerance, and A Hymn to the Pillory^ where it 
is suggested that many of those opposed to him better 
deserved such punishment. 

But Defoe had to go back to prison, and there he wrote 
various pamphlets, which need not be mentioned here. In 
September 1703 Harley wrote to Godolphin, the Lord 



XX Later Stuart Tracts 

Treasurer, that Defoe was much oppressed with his usage 
at Newgate, and was willing to serve the Queen. If his fine 
were satisfied by the Queen's bounty, ' he may do service, 
and this may perhaps engage him better than any 
after rewards, and keep him more under the power of an 
obligation.' Some months later Harley, who had succeeded 
Defoe's enemy Nottingham, as Secretary of State, wrote 
to ask Defoe what he could do for him, and made arrange- 
ments for the relief of his family. In August 1704 Defoe 
was released from prison, when he published A Hymn to 
Victory. In his Appeal to Honour and Justice he describes 
his gratitude to Harley and to the Queen, by whose bounty 
his fine was paid, and he asks how he could ever act against 
those to whom he owed so much. The Queen, too, took 
Defoe into her service, and he was employed, at Harley 's 
suggestion, ' in several honourable, though secret services.' 

In the meantime Defoe had begun, on February 19, 
1704, while in prison, the famous periodical known as the 
Review, a paper which lasted until 171 3, and was the 
immediate forerunner of the Tatler and the Spectator and 
all subsequent periodical essays. The paper was at first 
called A Review of the Affairs of France aud of all Europe, 
as influenced by that nation ; it treated of politics, news, and 
trade, but there was also a lighter element, contrived to 
'bring people to read with delight' 'After our serious 
matters we shall, at the end of every paper, present you 
with a little diversion, as anything occurs to make the world 
merry ; and whether friend or foe, one party or another, if 
anything happens so scandalous as to require an open 
reproof, the world will meet with it there.' These essays on 
'the immediate subject then on the tongues of the town' 
were called Advice from the Scandalous Club, or, later on, 



Introduction xxi 

Advice from the Scandal Club, and there were monthly 
Supplementary Journals. When the Tatler appeared Defoe 
welcomed Steele's lighter touch, and devoted himself more 
and more to politics. 

The Reviezv began as a weekly paper ; after the eighth 
number it appeared twice a week, and after the eighth 
number of the second volume thrice weekly. The passing 
of the Stamp Act in 17 12 brought the paper to an end in 
its original form ; but it was soon revived, as a single leaf, 
and was published twice a week until June 11, 1713. Defoe 
wrote the whole himself, a truly marvellous feat when we 
remember that he was often travelling about the country, 
and that while the Review was appearing he wrote 
pamphlets and books containing, as he calculated, nearly 
five thousand pages. 

The first volume dealt largely with the question of 
English Trade ; and Defoe, answering criticisms on his 
carelessness respecting language and polite phraseology, 
said that while he was on the subject of Trade he felt free 
from the bonds of cadence and perfections of style ; it was 
enough to be ' explicit, easy, free, and very plain.' In his 
second volume, struck by the growth of animosity and 
party fury, Defoe endeavoured to ' prevail on all people in 
general to study Peace,' and to beware of Tackers and 
Tories, In the third volume he dealt at length with the 
Union with Scotland. 'If I thought myself obliged, in 
duty to the public interest, to use my utmost endeavour to 
quiet the minds of enraged parties, I found myself under a 
stronger necessity to embark in the same design, between 
too much enraged nations.' Seeing that those carrying on 
the negotiations were at last approaching the subject in a 
spirit likely to lead to success, he felt he must do his part 



xxli Later Stuart Tracts 

without doors, by attempting to remove national prejudices. 
With this object he wrote pamphlets, and went to Edin- 
burgh, where he helped the Government by smoothing over 
difficulties for many months, both before and after the 
signing of the Treaty of Union, 

The seventh volume of the Review was concerned with 
the controversy that arose out of the prosecution of 
Dr. Sacheverell in 1710. Defoe's writings against the 
'exploded ridiculous doctrine of Non-Resistance' brought 
upon him many threats, but did not move him to change 
his attitude. 'You should first answer the argument,' he 
wrote ; ' that is the best way of murdering the author ! To 
kill him first is to own you could not answer him. If your 
doctrine of Non-Resistance will subsist, it will uphold 
itself; . . . for Truth will prevail,' But ' whether in this 
work I meet with punishment or praise, safety or hazard, 
life or death, Te Deum Laudamus' He could not but feel 
it hard, however, that one who endeavoured to steer the 
middle course between all parties, and to press either side 
to pursue the public interest, should be maltreated by any, 
and still more by both sides, ' But so shall it fare with any 
man that will not run into the same excess of riot with any 
people,' 

In the interesting preface to the eighth volume of the 
Review, Defoe again defended himself against attacks from 
those who might have been expected to be his friends. He 
consoled himself with the knowledge that he had always 
written his free and undirected opinions, and with the hope 
that the sincerity of his conduct would be yet cleared to the 
world. No ill-treatment could make him an enemy of the 
Dissenters, and he awaited a better understanding with 
patience and resignation. In the meantime he expressed 



Introduction xxiii 

his resentment at the Occasional Conformity Bill, which 
was a more barbarous measure than the Dissenters realised. 
'The people I have served, and love to serve, cut my throat 
every day, because I will not cut the throat of those that 
have served and assisted me. . . . And now I live under 
universal contempt, which contempt I have learned to 
contemn.' He was called *a fighting fellow'; but truth 
makes any man bold, and with a bad cause he felt he would 
have been a coward. ' In defence of truth, I think (pardon 
me that I dare go no further, for who knows himself?) I 
say, I think I could dare to die, but a child may beat me if 
I am in the wrong.' The hostility of the patriots of the 
cause he served did not move him, because he served 'the 
cause, and not the men.' 

During the negotiations for a peace with France in 17 12 
Defoe wrote pamphlets in favour of ' a good peace,' with 
the result that he was charged with being a hireling. This, 
he said, 'was abominably false ' ; he had 'suffered deeply 
for cleaving to principles.' At the close of the year, and 
early in 171 3, he wrote an opposition to the schemes of the 
friends of the Pretender, sometimes in very plain-spoken 
pieces, like A Seasonable Warning and Caution ; sometimes 
ironically, as in Reasons against the Succession of the 
House of Hanover ; What if the Pretender should come ? 
and WJiat if the Queen should die ? As in the case of 
The Shortest Way with the Dissenters, the irony was 
misunderstood — really misunderstood by some stupid 
readers, and wilfully misunderstood by others who wanted 
an excuse for attacking the writer. It was held that the 
pamphlets were scandalous, wicked, and treasonable libels, 
and Defoe was committed for trial. Eventually, however, 
in December 1713, Harley — now Earl of Oxford — procured 
for him a pardon of 'all crimes and offences.' 



xxiv Later Stuart Tracts 

Though Defoe did not approve of the terms of the Treaty 
of Utrecht, he thought it the duty of a loyal subject to 
make the best of it when it was signed ; but when he wrote 
to that effect he was charged with being in the French 
interest, often, as he says, on the supposition that he was 
the author of pamphlets of which he knew nothing. His 
whole attitude is summed up towards the close of the 
Appeal to Honour and Justice : ' I was from my first 
entering into the knowledge of public matters, and have 
ever been to this day, a sincere lover of the constitution of 
my country, zealous for liberty and the Protestant interest, 
but a constant follower of moderate principles, a vigorous 
opposer of hot measures of all parties. I never once 
changed my opinion, my principles, or my party ; and let 
what will be said of changing sides, this I maintain, that I 
never once deviated from the Revolution principles, nor 
from the doctrine of liberty and property on which they 
were founded.' And again : ' A constant, steady adhering 
to personal virtue and to public peace, which (I thank God ! 
I can appeal to Him !) has always been my practice, will, at 
last, restore me to the opinion of sober and impartial men ; 
and that is all I desire.' 

The Earl of Oxford's fall in July 1714 was shortly 
followed by the death of the Queen and the accession of 
George I. Defoe's Appeal to Honour and Justice appeared 
early in 17 15, and here we must leave him, merely noting 
that four years afterwards, when in his sixtieth year, he 
began, with Robinson Crusoe, the wonderful series of 
romances by which he is most widely known. For five 
years these books succeeded one another with astonishing 
rapidity ; and besides the stories, he wrote books and 
pamphlets on historical and moral subjects, on commerce, 



Introduction xxv 

on politics, on magic, and on literature. The busy life 
came to an end in 173 1. He was too independent, and his 
views were too much in advance of his time, for him to be 
viewed with anything but doubt by mere party-men. One 
opponent, John Dunton, said : ' I cannot but own his 
thoughts are always surprising, new, and singular ; and 
though he writes for bread, he could never be hired to 
wrong his conscience, or disgrace the quill, and, which 
crowns his panegyric, he is a person of true courage.' 

Arbuthnot was a fellow-writer with Defoe in favour of a 
peace with France ; but they had little in common. Defoe's 
position was naturally one of isolation ; he was outside the 
literary circle of his day ; and Swift and Pope, though he 
was writing on their side, mention him, on the rare occasions 
on which they refer to him, only in terms of opprobrium 
Apart from other reasons, he would be looked down upon 
as a Dissenter and as a man of the people, who was not a 
member of any university. In 1712, when the pamphlets 
given in this volume were published, Arbuthnot was a 
fashionable physician of forty-five, an intimate friend of 
Swift, Pope, and the wits in general, as well as of Oxford 
and Bolingbroke.^ 

Arbuthnot's father was one of the clergy who were 
expelled from their churches and manses at the Revolution 
in 1689, because he would not conform to the Presbyterian 
system. John, the eldest son, came to London, where he 
taught mathematics for a time, and then entered University 
College, Oxford. In 1696 he took the degree of M.D. at 
St. Andrews ; in 1704 he was elected a Fellow of the Royal 
Society, and next year became Physician-Extraordinary to 

1 The fullest life of Arbuthnot is in T^e Life and Works of John Arbuthnot, 
Oxford, 1892, by the present writer. 



xxvi Later Stuart Tracts 

the Queen. In 1706 he was a fellow-worker with Defoe in 
the endeavour to remove the prejudices against the Union 
entertained by the Scotch. In his Sermon preached to the 
people at the Mercai- Cross at Edinburgh, on the subject of 
the Union, he pointed out to his fellow-countrymen the 
intimate relations between Pride, Poverty, and Idleness, 'a 
worse Union a great deal than that which we are to 
discourse of at present ' ; the text was, * Better is he that 
laboureth, and aboundeth in all things, than he that 
boasteth himself, and wanteth bread.' In due course 
Arbuthnot became Physician-in-Ordinary to the Queen, 
and enjoyed great influence at court ; Swift more than 
once refers to him as 'the Queen's physician and favourite.' 
Early in 17 12 active negotiations were in progress with 
a view to the settlement of a peace with France, and 
Arbuthnot rendered material aid by a series of pamphlets 
which were afterwards collected under the title of The 
History of John Bull. They are often printed with Swift's 
works, but Pope said, * Dr. Arbuthnot was the sole writer of 
John Bull.' On the loth of March 17 12 Swift wrote to 
Stella, 'You must buy a small twopenny pamphlet, called 
Law is a Bottomless Pit. It is very prettily written, and 
there will be a second part.' The piece was advertised in 
the Examiner for March 6, with the title Law is a Bottoju- 
less Pit, exemplified in the case of the Lord Strutt, John 
Bull, Nicholas Frog, and Lewis Baboon, who spent all they 
had in a Law Suit. Lord Strutt was the late King of 
Spain ; John Bull, the English ; Nicholas Frog, the Dutch ; 
Lewis Baboon, the French King ; Philip Baboon, the Duke 
of Anjou ; Esquire South, the King of Spain ; Humphrey 
Hocus, the Duke of Marlborough ; and Sir Roger Bold, 
the Earl of Oxford. The lawsuit was, of course, the war ; 



Introduction xxvii 

John Bull's first wife stood for the late Ministry, and his 
second wife for the present Tory Ministry; his mother was 
the Church ; his sister Peg, the Scottish nation. Arbuthnot 
tells very amusingly of the cause of the lawsuit; of its 
success, which made John Bull think of leaving off his 
trade to become lawyer ; of his discovery that Hocus had 
an intrigue with his wife ; of the annoying attorney's bill ; 
and of the steps taken by the lawyers to persuade John 
Bull not to accept any composition, and so end the law- 
suit. Arbuthnot first applied the name of John Bull to 
the English people. John was generally ruddy and plump ; 
fond of his bottle, and generous with his money; an honest, 
plain-dealing man, but choleric and of inconstant temper. 
He was not afraid of the French, but often quarrelled with 
his best friends. In spite of good business capacity, he 
was careless about accounts, and was often cheated by 
partners and servants. 

The second part of 'John Bull ' was c^W^d John Bull in 
his Senses. On the 17th of March Swift wrote that it was 
'just now printed, and better, I think, than the first' It 
deals with the doctrine of non-resistance, the Barrier 
Treaty, Lord Nottingham's opposition to the Peace, and 
the arguments used by Marlborough, Godolphin, and 
Cowper, the guardians to John's three daughters by his 
first wife (War, Discord, and Usury), and by the King of 
Spain. John Bull still in his Senses : Being the third part 
of Law is a Bottomless Pit, was published in the middle 
of April. On the title-page was the misleading statement 
that this, as well as the two former parts, was by the author 
of the New Atalantis — Mrs. Manley, who was also a minor 
writer of Tory pamphlets. The chapters include an account 
of John Bull's mother (the Church of England), of his sister 



xxviii Later Stuart Tracts 

Peg (the Scottish Church and nation), and her lover Jack 
(Presbyterianism) ; of the early quarrels of John and Peg; 
of their reconciliation (at the Union), and their subsequent 
disagreements. The remainder of the pamphlet relates to 
the Partition Treaty; to Oxford's services to his country; 
to Church troubles, and to the difficulties in bringing about 
a peace. 

An Appendix to John Bull still in his Senses appeared 
in May. On the loth Swift wrote to Stella, ' The appendix 
to the third part of "John Bull" was published yesterday; 
it is equal to the rest. I hope you read "John Bull." It 
was a Scotch gentleman, a friend of mine, that wrote it; 
but they put it upon me.' This pamphlet deals with the 
history of the differences between Church and Dissent, and 
with the Bill against Occasional Conformity. The last 
of the series was published at the end of July : Lewis 
Baboon turned honest, and John Bull politician : Being 
the fourth part of Law is a Bottomless Pit. Swift wrote 
on the 7th of August, ' Have you seen the fourth part of 
"John Bull"? It is equal to the rest, and extremely good.' 
The pamphlet treated of the discussions at the meeting 
at the Salutation Tavern (the Congress of Utrecht); of the 
settlement of accounts between John Bull and Nic. Frog; 
of the turmoil at home about the Succession ; and of the 
private negotiations with France. 

When Arbuthnot died in 173S, Swift said that the news 
struck him to the heart, and years afterwards Dr. Johnson 
wrote : ' I think Dr. Arbuthnot the first man among them. 
He was the most universal genius, being an excellent 
physician, a man of deep learning, and a man of much 
humour.' As Lord Chesterfield said, he placed his fund 
of wit at the disposal of his friends, without any thought 



Introduction xxix 

of his own reputation, so that he was and is still generally 
undervalued. It is often difficult to separate his work from 
that of other members of the Scriblerus Club, to which 
he belonged. The historical student must needs study 
The Conduct of the Allies, The Public Spirit of the 
Whigs, and other pamphlets by Swift; but though these 
pieces are unrivalled for invective, the 'John Bull' series 
give an excellent idea of the more good-humoured side 
of the political controversy of the time. 

G. A. AITKEN. 



Political Arithmetic, 

OR 

A DISCOURSE 

Concerning 

The extent and value of Lands, People, 
Buildings ; Husbandry, Manufacture[s], 
Commerce, Fishery, Artizans, Seamen, 
Soldiers ; Public Revenues, Interest, 
Taxes, Superlucration, Registries, Banks; 
Valuation of Men, Increasing of Seamen ; 
of Militias, harbours, Situation, Shipping, 
Power at sea, &c. : as the same relates 
to every country in general, but more 
particularly to the territories of His 
Majesty of Great Britain, and his 
neighbours of Holland, Zealand, and 
France. 



By Sir WILLIAM PETTY, 

late Fellow of the Royal Society. 



London. Printed by Robert Clavel at the Peacock, 
and Henry Mortlock at the Phcenix in St. 
Paul's Church-yard. 1690. 



Et this book called Political Arithmetic, which was long 
since written [about 1677, see p. 29] by Sir William 
Petty deceased, be printed. 

Given at the Court at Whitehall, the yth day of November, 1690. 

Nottingham. 




Lord Shelborne's Dedication to William III. 



To the King's most excellent Majesty. 

Sire, 

HiLST every one meditates some fit offering for your 

Majesty, such as may best agree with your happy 

exaltation to this Throne ; I presume to offer what 

my father, long since, wrote to shew the Weight and 

Importance of the English Crown. 

It was by him styled Political Arithmetic, inasmuch as things 
of Government, and of no less concern and extent than the glory of 
the Prince and the happiness and greatness of the People are, by 
the ordinary rules of Arithmetic, brought into a sort of Demon- 
stration. 

He was allowed by all, to be the Inventor of this method of 
instruction, where the perplexed and intricate ways of the World 
are explained by a very mean piece of Science : and had not the 
Doctrines of this Essay offended France, they had, long since, seen 
the light [i.e., the Essay would have been printed in England, 
but for the French policy of Charles II.] ; and had sound 
followers, as well as improvements, before this time, to the ad- 
vantage, perhaps, of mankind. 

But this has been reserved to the felicity of your Majesty's 
reign, and to the expectation which the Learned have therein ; 
and if, while in this I do some honour to the memory of a good 
father, I can also pay service, and some testimony of my zeal and 
reverence to so great a King, it will be the utmost ambition of 

Sire, 

Your Majesty's 
Most dutiful and most obedient subject, 

Shelborne. 



I'he principal Conclusions of this 
Treatise are : 

Chap. I. That a small country and few people may, by 
their Situation, Trade, and Policy, be equiva- 
lent in wealth and strength to a far greater 
people and territory. And, particularly, that 
conveniences for shipping and water carriage, 
do most eminently and fmidamentally conduce 

thereunto ••• P' 9 

II. That some kind of taxes and public levies may 
rather increase, than diminish the wealth 
of the Kingdom P- 26 

III. That France cannot, by reason of natural and per- 
petualimpediments, be more powerful at sea than 

the English or Hollanders now are, or may be p. 34 

IV. That the People and Territories of the King of 
England are, naturally, nearly as considerable 

for wealth and strength, as those of France ...p. 40 
V. That the impediments of England's greatness 

are but contingent and removeahle p. 52 

VI. That the power and wealth of England hath 

increased,this forty years [i.e., since 1637 A. D.] p. 56 
VII. That One-Tenth part of the Whole Expense of 
the King of England's subjects is sufficient to 
maintain 100,000 Foot, 30,000 Horse, and 
40,000 seamen at sea ; and to defray all other 
charges of the Government, both ordinary and 
extraordinary, if the same were regularly taxed 

and raised p- 5^ 

VIII. That there are spare hands enough, among the 
King of England's subjects, to earn ^£"2, 000, 000 
per annum more than they now do; and that 
there are also employments ready, proper, and 

sufficient for that purpose p. 60 

IX. That there is Money sufficient to drive the Trade 

of the nation p. 63 

X. That the King of England's siibjects have Stock 
[capital] competent and convenient to drive the 
Trade of the whole Commercial World p. 64 



'1^ 



^Vt- 





PREFACE. 

Orasmuch as men who are in a decaying condi- 
tion or who have but an ill of their own concern- 
ments, instead of being, as some think, the more 
industrious to resist the evils they apprehend, do, 
contrariwise, become the more languid or ineffectual in all 
their endeavours ; neither caring to attempt or prosecute 
even the probable means of their relief. Upon this considera- 
tion, as a member of the Common Wealth, next to knowing 
the precise truth, in what condition the common Interest 
stands, I would, in all doubtful cases, think the best ! and 
consequently not despair without strong and manifest reasons, 
carefully examining whatever tends to lessen my hopes of 
the Public Welfare. 

I have therefore thought fit to examine the following 
Persuasions ; which I find too current in the world, and 
too much to have affected the minds of some, to the prejudice 
all, viz. : 

That the rents of lands are generally fallen ; that therefore, 
and for many other reasons, the whole Kingdom The fears of 
grows every day poorer and poorer. That formerly i^g"tUwe'ifere 
it abounded with gold; but now, there is a great ° "^^" ■ 
scarcity, both of gold and silver. That there is no trade, nor 
employment for the people; and yet that the Land is under- 
peopled. That taxes have been many and great. That Ireland 



6 Prejudices 8i I mprovements of England. P'"" 7" ^rell 

and the Plantations in America, and other additions to the Crown, 
are a burden to England. That Scotland is of no advantage. 
That Trade, in general, doth lamentably decay. That the 
Hollanders are at our heels, in the race for naval power : the 
French grow too fast upon both ; and appear so rich and potent, 
that it is but their clemency that they do not devour their neigh- 
bours. And. finally, that the Church and State of England 
are in the same danger with the Trade of England. With many 
other dismal suggestions, which I had rather stifle than 
repeat. 



It is true, the expense of foreign commodities hath, of late 
The real Pre- becn too great. Much of our plate, had it re- 

judices of i i i i i j 

England. mamed money, would have better served trade. 
Too many matters have been regulated by Laws, which 
Nature, long custom, and general consent ought only to have 
governed. The slaughter and destruction of men by the late 
Civil Wars [1642-50], and Plague [1665], have been great. 
The Fire at London, and Disaster at Chatham have begotten 
opinions in the vulgiis of the world, to our prejudice. The 
Nonconformists increase. The people of Ireland think 
long of their Settlement. The English there, apprehend 
themselves to be aliens, and are forced to seek a trade with 
foreigners, which they might as well maintain with their 
own relations in England. 

But notwithstanding all this, the like whereof was always 
in all places, the buildings of London grow great and glorious. 
The Improve- The AmcHcan Plantations employ 400 Sail of Ships. 
England. AcHoHs [Sharcs] in the East India Company are 
nearly double the principal money [the original nominal Stock], 
Those who can give good security, may have money under 
Statute interest. Materials for building, even oak timber, are 
[butj little the dearer (some cheaper) for [all] the rebuilding 
of London. The E.xchange seems as full of merchants as 



SirW 
? 



•^fg"^;] The Author's manner of arguing. 



formerly. No more beggars in the streets, nor executed for 
thieves, than heretofore. The number of coaches and splen- 
dour of equipage exceeds former Times. The public Theatres 
are very magnificent. The King has a greater Navy, and 
stronger Guards than before our calamities. The Clergy are 
rich, and the Cathedrals in repair. Much land has been 
improved, and the price of food is so reasonable as that men 
refuse to have it cheaper by admitting of Irish cattle. 

And, in brief, no man needs to v^^ant, that will take moderate 
pains. That some are poorer than others, ever was and ever 
will be : and that many are naturally querulous and envious, 
is an evil as old as the world. 

These general observations, and that men eat, and drink, 
and laugh, as they used to do, have encouraged me to try if 
I could also comfort others : being satisfied myself, that the 
Interest and Affairs of England are in no deplorable con- 
dition. 

The method I take, to do this, is not yet very usual. For 
(instead of using only comparative and superlative The Author's 
words, and intellectual arguments) I have taken man'nerol^" 
the course (as a specimen of the Political Arith- ^'^'"^^ 
metic I have long aimed at) to express myself in Terms of 
Number, Weight, or Measure; to use only arguments of 
sense, and to consider only such causes as have visible 
foundations in Nature : leaving those that depend upon the 
mutable minds, opinions, appetites, and passions of particular 
men, to the consideration of others. Really professing my- 
self as unable to speak satisfactorily upon those grounds (if 
they may be called grounds !) as to foretell the cast of a die 
[dice], to play well at tennis, billiards, or bowls (without long 
practice) by virtue of the most elaborate conceptions that ever 
have been written de projectilibtis et missilibus, or of the angles 
of incidence and reflection. 



8 Observations set forth by Number, &c. p'T^S' 

Now the Observations or Positions expressed by Number, 
fhe nature of Weight, and Measure, upon which I bottom the 
Uonranrsup- ^nsuing Discouiscs, are either true, or not ap- 
posiiions. parently false. And which if they are not already 
true, certain, and evident ; yet may be made so by the 
Sovereign Power, Nam id ccrtnni est quod certum reddi potest. 
And if they are false, not so false as to destroy the argument 
they are brought for : but, at worst, are sufficient, as Sup- 
positions, to shew the way to that Knowledge I aim at. 

And I have, withal, for the present, confined myself to the 
Ten principal Conclusions hereafter particularly handled : 
which if they shall be judged material, and worthy of a better 
discussion ; I hope all ingenious and candid persons will 
rectify the errors, defects, and imperfections, which probably 
may be found in any of the Propositions, upon which these 
ratiocinations were grounded. Nor would it misbecome 
Authority itself, to clear the truth of those matters which 
private endeavours cannot reach to. 






CHAPTER I. 

That a small country and few people, by its Situation, Trade, 
and Policy, may he equivalent in wealth and strength to a far 
greater people and territory. And, particularly, that conveniences 
for shipping and water carriage, do most eminently and funda- 
mentally conduce thereunto. 

His first principal Conclusion, by reason 
of its length, I consider in three parts : 
whereof the first is 

That a small country and few people may 
be equivalent in wealth and strength to a far 
greater people and territory. 

This part of the First principal Conclu- 
sion needs little proof : foras- How one Man 
much as one acre of land may bear as much corn A^^^kn'd'by 
and feed, as many cattle, as twenty ; by the djf- j;;;^;^^,"^^,^^'^. 
ference of the soil. Some parcel of ground is, lent to many. 
naturally, so defensible, as that an hundred men being pos- 
sessed thereof, can resist the invasion of five hundred. And 
bad land may be improved and made good. Bog may, by 
draining, be made meadow. Heathland may, as in Flanders, 
be made to bear flax and clover grass ; so as to advance in 
value from one to a hundred. The same land, being built 
upon, may centuple the rent which it yielded as pasture. One 
man is more nimble or strong, and more patient of labour 
than another. One man, by Art, may do as much work as 
many without it, viz. : one man with a mill can grind as 
much corn as twenty can pound in a mortar. One printer 
can make as many copies as a hundred men can write by 



lO A COMPARISON OF HoLLAND WITH FrANCE. [^'"J' ^fe*?" 

hand. One horse can carry upon wheels as much as five 
upon their backs, and, in a boat or upon ice, as twenty. So 
that I say again, this First point of this general Position 
needs little or no proof. 

But the Second and more material part of this Conclusion 
is that this difference in land and people, arises principally 
from their situation, trade, and policy. 

To clear this, I shall compare Holland and Zealand with 
A comparison thc Kingdom of France ; viz., Holland and Zealand 
ze"rnd"wuh'* do not contain above 1,000,000 of English acres. 
France. Whcrcas the Kingdom of France contains above 

80,000,000. 

Now the original and primitive Difference holds proportion 
as land to land : for it is hard to say that when these places 
were first planted, whether an acre in France was better 
than the like quantity in Holland and Zealand ; nor is there 
any reason to suppose but that, therefore, upon the first 
plantation, the number of planters was in proportion to the 
quantity of land. Wherefore, if the people are not in the 
same proportion as the Land, the same must be attributed 
to the situation of the Land and to the trade and policy of 
the People superstructed thereupon. 

The next thing to be shewn is that Holland and Zealand, 
at this day, is not only an eightieth part as rich and strong 
as France, but that it hath advanced to one-third or there- 
abouts ; which, I think, will appear upon the balance of 
the following particulars, viz. : 

As to the wealth of France, a certain Map of that Kingdom, 
set forth ajino 1647, represents it to be ^^15, 000,000, whereof 
;^6,ooo,ooo did belong to the Church : the Author thereof, as 
I suppose, meaning the rents of the Lands only. 

And the Author of a most judicious Discourse of Husbandry 
(supposed to be Sir Richard Weston) doth, from reason and 
T>,at the Lands cxpcrience, shew that lands in the Netherlands, 
?o^h"LamT,''of by bearing flax, turnips, clover grass, madder, &c., 
Knd^8^o ^^■'•' ^'^sily yield £^-0 per acre. So as the territories 
1. in value. of Hollaud aud Zealand should, by his account, 
yield at least £10,000,000 per annum: yet I do not believe the 
same to be so much, nor France so little as above said : but 
rather, that one bears to the other, as about 7 or 8 to i. 



^''T'^il?/.]'^^^ ENTIRE European shipping in 1677. 11 

The people of Amsterdam [about 160,000] are One-third of 
those in Paris or London [about 480,000] : which Jf'^Am^erdam 
two cities differ not in people, a twentieth part from are about Half 
each other, as hath appeared by the Bills of burials those'at^Par'is. 
and christenings for each. But the value of the Buildings 
in Amsterdam may well be half that of those of Paris, by 
reason of the foundations, grafts [} piles] and bridges ; which in 
Amsterdam are more numerous and chargeable than at Paris. 

Moreover, the habitations of the poorest people ^he Housing 
in Holland and Zealand are Twice or Thrice as '"^'■^"" 
good as those of France : but the people of the one, times in value 
to the people of the other, being as 13 to i; the HoUandand 
value of the Housing must be as about 5 to i. Zealand. 

The value of the Shipping of Europe, being about 2,000,000 
tons, 
I suppose the English have ... ... 500,000 J/^HonL^if]"^ 

the Dutch ... ... ... ... 900,000 Nine times that 

the French ... ... ... ... 100,000 

the Hamburgers, and subjects of Den- 
mark, Sweden, and the town of Dantzic 250,000 
And Spain, Portugal, Italy, &c.... ... 250,000 

2,000,000 

So as the Shipping, in our case of France to that of Hol- 
land and Zealand, is about i to g ; which, reckoned at 
great and small, new and old, one with another, at £8 per 
ton, makes the worth to be as ;£'8oo,ooo to ;£'7, 200,000. 

The Hollanders' capital in the[ir] East Indian Thecompari- 
Company is worth above ;£'3, 000,000 ; where the I°,d°FrMce^"in 
French, as yet, have little or nothing. '^^ ^"dias. 

The value of goods exported out of France to all parts, is 
supposed to be quadruple to what is sent to Eng- The Exporta- 
land alone [;£"i, 250,000] : and consequently in all ind HoUand*Js 
about ;^5, 000,000: but what is exported out of ^ss to 21. 
Holland into England is worth £3,000,000; and what is 
exported thence into all the world besides, is sextuple to the 
same [£3,000,000 -f £18,000,000 =:;£'2i, 000,000]. 

The monies yearly raised by the King of France, as the 
same appears by the book entituled The State of xhe Revenues 
France, dedicated to the King ; printed anno i66g, °^ France. 
and set forth several times by authority, is 82,000,000 of 



12 The taxes of the United Provinces. [^"T^iS'- 

French Livers, which is about ^^6,500,000 sterHng. Of which 
sum, the Author says that " one-fifth part was abated for 
non-vakiers or insolvencies " so, as I suppose, not above 
^^5,000,000 were effectually raised. 

But whereas, some say that the King of France raised 
^11,000,000 as the One-fifth of the effects of France: I 
humbly affirm that all the land and sea forces, all the build- 
ings and entertainments which we have heard by common 
fame, to have been set forth and in any of these seven last 
years [? 1671-77] needed not to have cost ;^6,ooo,ooo sterling ; 
wherefore I suppose he hath not raised more, especially 
since that were One-Fifth insolvencies, when the tax was at 
that pitch. 

But Holland and Zealand, pa3'ing 67 parts of the 100 paid 
Thetaxespaid by all the United Provinces: and the city of 

by Holland a^i • r i ■ ^ ^ ■ 

and Zealand. Amsterdam paymg 27 of the said 67 parts: it 
follows that if Amsterdam hath paid 4,000 Flemish Pounds 
per diem, or about 1,400,000 Pounds per annum or ;^8oo,ooo 
sterling ; that Holland and Zealand have paid ;£'2, 100,000 
per annum. 

Now the reasons why I think they pay so much, are these, 
viz. : 

1. The Author of the State of the Netherlands saith so. 

2. The excise of victuals at Amsterdam seems to be above 
half the original value of the same, viz. : Ground corn 
pays 20 stivers the bushel, or 63 guilders the last. 
Beer 113 stivers, the barrel. Housing, one-sixth of the 
rent. Fruit, one-eighth of what it cost. Other com- 
modities one-seventh, one-eighth, one-ninth, one-twelfth, 
&c. Salt, ad libitum. All weighed goods pay, besides 
the premises, a vast sum. 

Now if the expense of the people of Amsterdam, at a 
medium, and without excise, were £8 per annum; whereas 
in England, it is £y : then if all the several imposts 
above named raise it to ^5 more; there being 160,000 
souls in Amsterdam, the sum of ,^800,000 sterling per 
annum will thereby be raised. 

3. Though the expense of each head should be ^^13 
per annum : it is well known that there be few in Am- 
sterdam, who do not earn much more than the said 
expense. 



^^r^ffl SUPERLUCRATION OF FrANCE & HoLLAND. 13 

4. If Holland and Zealand pay /^r annwn ^^2, 100,000; 
then all the Provinces together must pay about 
^£"3,000,000. Less than which sum per a?tnnm, perhaps, 
is not sufficient to have maintained the naval war with 
England, 72,000 land forces, besides all the other 
ordinary charges of their Government, whereof the 
Church is there a part. 

To conclude, it seems from the premisses, that all 
France doth not raise above thrice as much from the 
public charge as Holland and Zealand alone do. 

5. Interest of money in France is £y per cent. ; J/'fnfer^jt^"" 
but in Holland scarcely half so much. between 

6. The countries of Holland and Zealand con- Franc". ^"'^ 
sisting, as it were, of islands guarded with the sea, 
shipping, and marshes, is defensible at one-fourth of the 
charge that a plain open country is, and where the seat 
of war may be, both summer and winter : whereas in the 
others, little can be done but in the summer only. 

7. But above all the particulars hitherto considered, that 
of Superlucration [the national capitalizing of Thesuper- 
wealth, by savings ont of income, through thrift, betwe'enFrance 
industry, and economy of power] ought chiefly to ^"'^ Holland. 
be taken in. For if a Prince have ever so many subjects, 
and his country be ever so good : yet if either through 
sloth or extravagant expenses, or oppression and injustice, 
whatever is gained shall be spent as fast as gotten ; that 
State must be accounted poor. 

Wherefore let it be considered, how much, or how 

many times rather, Holland and Zealand are now above 

what they were a hundred years ago : which we must 

also do of France. Now if France hath scarce doubled 

its wealth and power, and that the other have decupled 

theirs ; I shall give the preference to the latter even 

though the nine-tenths increased by the one, should not 

exceed the one-half gained by the other; because one 

has a store for nine years, the other but for one. 

To conclude, upon the whole, it seems that though France 

be in People to Holland and Zealand as 13 to i ; and in 

quantity of good Land, as 80 to i ; yet is it not 13 times 

richer and stronger, much less 80 times : nor much above 

thrice. Which was to be proved. 



14 Density of population, a national gain, p"" ^^ ^^^^: 

Having thus despatched the Two first branches of the First 
The causes of principal Conclusion : it follows to shew that this 

the diflerence -il.---^ , -r . • 1,1 ij_ xU 

between Diffcrcncc of Improvement m wealth and strength 

HoHancT^ aHscs from the situation, trade, and policy of the 
places respectively : and in particular from conveniences for 
shipping and water carriage. 

Many writing on this subject, do so magnify the Hollanders 
as if they were more, and all other nations less, than men, as 
to matters of trade and policy ; making them angels, and 
others fools, brutes, and sots as those particulars : whereas, 
I take the Foundation of their achievements to lie originally in 
the Situation of the country ; whereby, they do things inimitable 
by others, and have advantages whereof others are incapable. 
The reasons Flrst. Thc soil of Holland and Zealand is low 

h better than laud, Hch and fertile ; whereby it is able to feed 
t^h^^h'o"Ahe rnany men: and so, as that men may live near each 
samerent;and other, for their mutual assistance in trade. 

consequently ' , , r 1 

why Holland I Say that a 1,000 acres that can teed i,ooo 
France^"^ ' ^" souls, arc better than 10,000 acres of no more 
effect ; for the following reasons : 

1. Suppose some great fabric were in building by a 1,000 
men : shall not much more Time be spared, if they lived 
all upon 1,000 acres, than if they were forced to live 
upon ten times as large a scope of land. 

2. The charge of the Cure of their souls and the Ministry 
would be far greater in one case than in the other : as 
also of Mutual Defence, in case of invasion, and even 
of thieves and robbers. Moreover the charge of Ad- 
ministration of Justice would be much easier, where 
witnesses and parties may be easily summoned, attend- 
ance less expensive, when men's actions would be better 
known, when wrongs and injuries could not be covered 
as in thin peopled places they are. 

Lastly, those who live in solitary places, must be 
their own soldiers, divines, physicians, and lawyers ; and 
must have their houses stored with necessary provisions, 
like a ship going upon a long voyage, to the great waste 
and needless expense of such provisions. 
The value of this First convenience to the Dutch, I reckon 
or estimate to be about ;£"ioo,ooo/>gy annum. 

Secondly, Holland is a level country, so as, in any part 



^^r^S"] Merchandise, Manufactures, &c. 15 

thereof, a windmill may be set up ; and by its being moist 
and vaporous, there is always wind stirring over Jheadvan- 

1- 1 ■ 1 1 ^ ii 11 r ^^Ses from the 

It : by which advantage, the labour of many leyei, and 
thousand hands is saved, forasmuch as a mill, Hournd.^' ° 
made by one man in half a year, will do as much labour as 
four men for five years together. 

This advantage is greater or less, where employment or 
ease of labour is so: but in Holland it is eminently great, 
and the worth of this convenience is nearly -£"150,000. 

Thirdly, there is much more to be gained by Manufacture 
than Husbandry; and by Merchandise than Manu- Theadvan- 
facture. But Holland and Zealand being seated at ultLnd, from 
the mouths of three longgreat rivers passing through manufacture 

. . . 1 1 1 1 1 • 1 1 • r ^"" commerce. 

rich countries, do keep all the inhabitants upon the The situation 
sides of those rivers but as husbandmen ; whilst Laiand upon 
they themselves are the manufactors [manufacturers] Hj^eTgreat °^ 
of their commodities : and do dispense them into "vers, 
all parts of the world, making returns for the same, at 
what prices almost they please themselves. And, in short, 
they keep the Keys of Trade of those countries, through 
which the said rivers pass. 

The value of this Third conveniency, I suppose to be 
;f 200,000. 

Fourthly, in Holland and Zealand, there is scarcely any 
place of work or business one mile distant from a Nearness to 
navigable water : and the charge of water carriage waters. 
is generally but one-fifteenth or one-twentieth part of land 
carriage. Wherefore, if there be as much trade there as in 
France, then the Hollanders can outsell the French fourteen- 
fifteenths of all the expense of all travelling, postage, and 
carriage whatsoever : which even in England I take to be 
5^300,000 per annum, where the very postage of letters costs 
the people perhaps ^^50,000 per annum, though farmed at 
much less ; and all other labour of horses and porters at 
least six times as much. 

The value of this conveniency, I estimate to be above 
^300,000 per annum. 

Fifthly, the defensibleness of the country by reason of its 
situation in the sea, upon islands and in the marshes, The defensible. 
impassable ground diked and trenched ; especially iSuand. 
co.isidering how that place is aimed at, for its wealth. 



1 6 All the European trade is ^45,000,000. [^'"' J' ^^l'^;. 

I say, the charge of defending that country is easier than 
if it were a plain champion, at least -^200,000 per annum. 

Sixthly, Holland is so considerable for keeping ships in 
Harbouring of harbour, with small expense of men and ground 
smau'expMse. tacklc, that it saves per annum ^TzoOjOOO of what 
must be spent in France. 

Now, if all these natural advantages do amount to above 
£1,000,000 per annum profits : and that the Trade of all 
Europe, nay, of the Whole World with which our Europeans 
do trade, is not about -£45,000,000 per annum, and if one- 
thirtieth of the Value be one-seventh of the Profit, it is plain 
that the Hollander may command and govern the whole trade. 

Seventhly, those who have their situation thus towards the 
Advantages from sca, and abouud with fish at home; and having 
fishing. aisQ tl^g command of shipping, have by con- 

sequence the fishing trade; whereof that of herring alone 
brings more yearly profit to the Hollanders, than the trade 
of the West Indies to Spain, or of the East to themselves: 
as many have affirmed: being, as the same say, viis et modis, 
of above £3,000,000 per annum profit. 

Eighthly, it is not to be doubted, but that those who have 
Advantages by the trade of shipping and fishing, will secure them- 
provisions. sclvcs of thc trade of timber for ships, boats, masts, 
and caske ; of hemp for cordage, sails, and nets ; of salt, of 
iron ; as also of pitch, tar, rosin, brimstone, oil, and tallow, as 
necessary appurtenances to shipping and fishing. 

Ninthly, those who predominate in shipping and fishing, 
Fitness for have morc occasions than others, to frequent all 
universal trade, p^fts of thc world, aud to obscrvc what is wanting 
or redundant everywhere, and what each people can do, and 
what they desire ; and consequently to be the Factors and 
Carriers for the Whole World in Trade. Upon which ground, 
they bring all native commodities to be manufactured at 
home ; and carry the same back, even to that country in which 
they grew. 

All which we see. For do they not work the sugars of the 
West Indies? the timber and iron of the Baltic? the hemp 
of Russia ? the lead, tin, and wool of England ? the quicksilver 
and silk of Italy ? the yarns and dyeing stuffs of Turkey ? 

To be short. In all the ancient States and Empires, those 
who had the shipping, had the wealth. And if 2 per cent, in 



^''T'^"^:] Seamen, Artisans, & Husbandmen. 17 

the price of commodities be, perhaps, 20 per cent, in the gain; 
it is manifest that they who can, in £45,000,000, undersell 
others, by 3^1,000,000 [i.e., nearly 2 per cent.], upon account 
of natural and intrinsic advantages only, may easily have the 
Trade of the World, without such angelical wits and judge- 
ments as some attribute to the Hollanders. 

Having thus done with their Situation, I now come to their 
Trade. 

It is commonly seen that each country flourisheth in the 
manufacture of its own native commodities, viz., Artificial 
England, for woollen manufacture; France, for ofSr 
paper; Luic land, for iron ware; Portugal, for confectures 
[confectionary]; Italy, for silks. Upon which principle, it 
follows that Holland and Zealand must flourish most in the 
trade of shipping, and so become Carriers and Factors of the 
Whole World of Trade. 

Now the advantages of the Shipping Trade are as followeth, 
viz. : 

Husbandmen, seamen, soldiers, artisans, and merchants 
are the very Pillars of any Commonwealth : Husbandmen 
all the other great professions do rise out of seamen, soi- ' 
the infirmities and miscarriages of these. Now and merchMU 
the seaman is three of these four. For every puu^sofZ 
Seaman of industry and ingenuity, is not only common- 
a Navigator, but a Merchant, and also a Sol- seaman fs" 
dier; not because he hath often occasion to '^reeofthem. 
fight and handle arms, but because he is familiarized 
with hardship and hazards extending to life and limbs. 
For training and drilling is a small part of soldiery in 
respect of this last-mentioned qualification : the one being 
quickly and presently learned ; the other, not without many 
years' most painful experience. Wherefore to have the 
occasion of abounding in Seamen is a vast conveniency. 
2. The husbandmen of England earns but about 4s. a 
week ; but the seamen have as good as 12s. in a Seaman 
wages, victuals, and as it were housing, with toithrei^"' 
other accommodations : so as a seaman is in Husbandmen. 
effect three husbandmen. 

Wherefore there is little ploughing and sowing of corn 
in Holland and Zealand, or breeding of young cattle : but 

5 3 



1 8 A Seaman equals three Husbandmen. p^'^'S: 

their land is improved by building houses, ships, engines, 
dykes, wharfs, gardens of pleasure, extraordinary flowers 
and fruits ; for dairy and feeding of cattle, for rape, flax, 
madder, &c. — the foundations of several advantageous 
manufactures. 

3. Whereas the employment of other men is confined 
to their own country, that of seamen is free to the whole 
world ; so as where Trade may, as they call it, be dead, 
here or there, now and then, it is certain that somewhere 
or other in the world. Trade is always quick enough, and 
provisions are always plentiful. The benefit whereof, 
those who command the shipping enjoy, and they only. 

4. The great and ultimate effect of trade is not wealth 
at large ; but particularly abundance of silver, gold, and 
Silver, gold, jcwcls ; which are not perishable, nor so mutable 
uniJerTi'^ '"'^ as othcr commodities, but are wealth at all 
Wealth. times, and all places: whereas abundance of 
wine, corn, fowls, flesh, &c., are riches but hie et nunc. 
So as the raising of such commodities, and the following 
of such trade which does store the country with gold, 
silver, jewels, &c., is profitable before others. 

But the labour of seamen and freight of ships are 
always of the nature of an exported commodity : the 
overplus whereof, above what is imported, brings home 
money, &c. 

5. Those who have the command of the sea trade, 
Reasons why may work at easier freight with more profit 
Sfi fbr'ies"'^'''* than others at greater. For as cloth must be 
freight. cheaper made when one cards, another spins, 
another weaves, another draws, another dresses, another 
presses and packs ; than when all the operations above 
mentioned are clumsily performed by the same hand : so 
those who command the trade of shipping, can build long 
slight ships for carrying masts, fir timber, boards, balks 
[beams or rafters], &c.; and short ones for lead, iron, 
stones, &c. ; one sort of vessels to trade at ports where 
they need never lie aground, others where the> must 
jump upon the sand twice every twelve hours : one sort 
of vessels and way of manning, in time of peace and for 
cheap gross [bulky] goods, another for war and precious 
commodities ; one sort of vessels for the turbulent sea, 



^'""Y'^ie";."] The Policy of the United Provinces. 19 

another for inland waters and rivers ; one sort of vessels 
and rigging where haste is requisite for the maidenhead 
Ifirst sales] of a market, another where one-third or one- 
fourth of the time makes no matter ; one sort of masting 
and rigging for long voyages, another for coasting; one sort 
of vessels for fishing, another for trade ; one sort for war for 
this or that country, another for burden onl)\ Some for 
oars, some for poles, some for sails, and some for draught 
by men or horses. Some for the northern navigations 
amongst ice ; and some for the South, against worms, &c. 
And this I take to be the chief of several reasons, why 
the Hollanders can go at less freight than their neigh- 
bours, viz., because they can afford a particular sort of 
vessels for each particular trade. 
I have shewn how SiUiation hath given them shipping, and 
how Shipping hath given them, in effect, all other trade ; and 
how Foreign Traffic must give them as much Manufactures 
as they can manage themselves : and as for the overplus, make 
the rest of the world but as workmen to their shops. 

It now remains to shew the effects of their Policy super- 
structed upon these Natural Advantages, and not, as The Policy of 
some think, upon the excess of their understandings. Holland. 

I have omitted to mention, the Hollanders were, one 
hundred years since, a poor and oppressed people living in a 
country naturally cold, moist, and unpleasant; and were withal 
persecuted for their heterodoxy in religion. 

From hence it necessarily followed, that this people must 
labour hard, and set all hands to work ; rich and poor, old 
and young must study the Art of Number, Weight, and 
Measure, must fare hard, provide for impotents and orphans 
out of hope to make profit by their labours ; must punish the 
lazy by labour, and not by crippling them. I say, all these 
particulars (said to be the subtle excogitations of the 
Hollanders) seem to me but what could not almost have been 
otherwise. 

Liberty of Conscience, Registry of Conveyances, small Customs 
[import duties]. Banks, Lumbards [pawnbrokers] and Law 
Merchant rise all from the same spring, and tend to the same 
sea. As for Lowness of Interest, it is also a necessary effect of 
all the premisses, and not the fruit of their contrivance. 



20 Trade value of Liberty of Conscience. [^'"■y'^S?". 

Wherefore we shall only shew in particular the efficacy of 
each ; and first of Liberty of Conscience. 

But before I enter upon these, I shall mention a practice 
almost forgotten, whether it referreth to Trade or Policy is 
Undermasting HOt material ; which is the Hollanders' under- 
of ships. masting and sailing such of their shipping as carry 

cheap and gross [bulky] goods, and whose sale doth not depend 
much upon the season. 

It is to be noted, that of two equal and like vessels, if one 
spreads i,6oo yards of like canvas, and the other 2,500, their 
speed is but as Four to Five: so as one brings home the same 
timber in four days as the other will in five. Now if we con- 
sider that although those ships be but four or five days under 
sail, that they are perhaps thirty upon the voyage : so as one 
is but one-thirtieth part longer upon the whole voyage than 
the other, though one-fifth longer under sail. Now if masts, 
yards, rigging, cables, and anchors do all depend upon the 
quantity and extent of the sails, and consequently hands 
also : it follows that the one vessel goes at one-third less 
Charge, losing but one-thirtieth of the Time and of what 
depends there upon. 

I now come to the first Policy of the Dutch, viz., Liberty of 
Conscience CoHscience: which I conceive, they grant upon these 
andtheRek- giounds: but keeping up always a force to maintain 

ions thereof ", r o r j 

in Holland, the common peace. 

1. They themselves broke with Spain to avoid the im- 
position of the Clergy. 

2. Dissenters of this kind are, for the most part, thinking, 
sober, and patient men ; and such as believe that 
labour and industry is their duty towards GOD : how 
erroneous soever their opinions be. 

3. These people believing in the Justice of GOD; and 
seeing the most licentious persons to enjoy most of the 
world and its best things, will never venture to be of the 
same religion and profession with voluptuaries and men 
of extreme wealth and power, whom they think to have 
their portion in this world. 

4. They cannot but know That no man can believe what 
himself pleases : and to force men to say they believe, 



• ^te/j^] The Heterodox drive most of the Trade. 2 1 

what they do not, is vain, absurd, and without honour to 
GOD. 

5. The Hollanders knowing themselves not to be an infaU- 
ible church, and that others had the same Scriptures for 
guides as themselves, and withal the same Interest to 
save their souls, do not think fit to make this matter 
their business ; no more than to take bonds of the seamen 
they employ, not to cast away their own ships and lives. 

6. The Hollanders observe that, in France and Spain, 
especially the latter, the Churchmen [Clergy] are about 
100 to I to what they use or need ; the principal care of 
whom, is to preserve Uniformity : and this they take to 
be a superfluous charge. 

7. They observe where most endeavours have been used to 
keep Uniformity, there Heterodoxy hath most abounded. 

8. They believe that if one-fourth of the people were hete- 
rodox, and that if that whole quarter should (by miracle) 
be removed ; that, within a small time, one-fourth of the 
remainder would again become heterodox, some way or 
other : it being natural for men to differ in opinion in 
matters above Sense and Reason ; and for those who 
have less Wealth, to think they have the more Wit and 
Understanding, especially of the Things of GOD, which 
they think chiefly belong to the poor. 

g. They think the case of the primitive Christians, as 
it is represented in the Acts of the Apostles, looks like that 
of the present Dissenters : I mean, externally. 

Moreover, it is to be observed that Trade doth not, as 
somethink, best flourish under popular Govern- The trade of 
ments : but rather that Trade is most vigour- chfefly man- '' 
ously carried on, in every State and Govern- ff^terodox* 
ment, by the heterodox part of the same; and party. 
such as profess opinions different from what are publicly 
established. That is to say, in India, where the Maho- 
metan religion is authorised ; there the Banyans are the 
most considerable merchants. In the Turkish Empire, 
the Jews and Christians. At Venice, Naples, Leghorn, 
Genoa, and Lisbon ; Jews and non-Papist merchant- 
strangers. But to be short, in that part of Europe where 
the Roman Catholic religion now hath, or lately hath had 
establishment, there three-quarters of the whole trade is 



2 2 Registries of Titles to Land^ & Houses. If" 7" ^Sz". 

in the hands of such as have separated from that Church: 
that is to say, the inhabitants of England, Scotland, and 
Ireland, as also those of the United Provinces, with Den- 
mark, Sweden, and Norway, together with the subjects of 
the German Protestant Princes and the Hanse Towns, do, 
at this day, possess three-quarters of the Trade of the 
World. And even in France itself; the Huguenots are, 
proportionably, far the greatest traders. 
Nor is it to be denied, but that in Ireland, where the said 
Roman religion is not authorized : there, the professors 
thereof have a great part of the trade. 
From whence it follows, that Trade is not fixed to any 
species of Religion, as such : but rather, as before hath 
been said, to the heterodox part of the whole : the truth 
whereof appears also, in all the particular towns of 
greatest trade in England. 
Nor do I find reason to believe, that the Roman Catholic 
seamen in the whole world, are sufficient to man effectually 
All the Pap- a Fleet equal to what the King of England now hath: 
Europe are but thc nou-Paplst scamcn can do above thrice as 
denrto'J^an much. Whcreforc hc, whom this latter party doth 
Engknd's°^ affectionately own to be their head, cannot probably 
Fleet. be wronged in his sea concernments by the other. 

From whence it follows, that for the Advancement of 
Trade, if that be a sufficient reason, indulgence must be 
granted in Matters of Opinion : though licentious actings, as 
even in Holland, be restrained by force. 

The second Policy , or help to trade used by the Hollanders, 
is the securing the Titles to Lands and Houses. For although 
Firm Titles to lauds and houses may be called terra finna et res 

lianas and . j •;■ i ■ i i • 

Houses. iniinobUis; yet the title unto them is no more cer- 

tain than it pleases the Lawyers and Authority to make them. 
Wherefore the Hollanders do, by Registries and other ways 
of assurance, make the title as immoveable as the lands. 
For there can be no encouragement to industry, where there 
is no assurance of what shall be gotten by it ; and where, by 
fraud and corruption, one man may take awa}'^, with ease and 
by a trick, and in a moment, what another has gotten by 
many years' extreme labour and pains. 

There hath been much discourse about the introducing 



^'' 7' ^fe"?:] The Dutch banking syste 



M. 



of Registries into England. The Lawyers, for the most 
part, object against it, alleging that titles of land in oftheintroduc- 
England are sufficiently secure already. Wherefore imo°En|fand." 
omitting the considerations of small and oblique reasons pro 
et contra ; it were good that enquiry were made from the 
Officers of several Courts, to what sum or value, purchasers 
have been damnified [robbed], for this last ten years, by such 
fraudulent conveyances as Registries would have prevented : 
the tenth part whereof, at a medium, is the annual loss which 
the people sustain for want of them. And then, computation 
is to be made of the annual Charge of Registering such extra- 
ordinary conveyances as would secure the title of lands. 
Now by comparing these two sums, the question so much 
agitated may be determined : though some think that, 
though few are actually damnified [damaged] , yet that all are 
hindered by fear, and deterred from dealing. 

Their third Policy is their Bank : the use whereof is to 
increase Money, or rather to make a small sum The Banks ot 
equivalent in trade to a greater. Holland. 

For the effecting whereof, these things are to be con- 
sidered — 

1. How much money will drive the Trade of the nation. 

2. How much current money there is actually in the 
nation. 

3. How much money will serve to make all payments of 
under £^0 (or any other more convenient sum) 
throughout the year. 

4. For what sum, the Keepers of the Bank are unquestion- 
able security. 

If all these four particulars be well known, then it may 
also be known, how much of the ready money above men- 
tioned may be safely and profitably lodged in the Bank, and 
to how much ready current money the said deposited money 
is equivalent. 

As for example, suppose ^^100,000 will drive the Trade of 

the nation. 

And suppose there be but ;^6o,ooo of ready money in 

the same. 

Suppose also that ;£'20,ooo will drive on, and answer 

all payments of under ;^50. 



24 The Dutch avoid badly paying pursuits, p f ^i;^: 

In this case ;^40,ooo of the ^^60,000 being put into the Bank, 
will be equivalent to ^80,000 : which ^^80,000, and £20,000 
kept out of the Bank, do make up £100,000, that is to say, 
enough to drive the trade, as was proposed. 

Where, note, that the Bank Keepers must be responsible 
for double the sum intrusted with them; and must have 
power to levy upon the General [the nation at large, or the body 
of shareholders] what they happen to lose unto particular men. 

Upon which grounds, the Bank may freely make use_ of 
the received £40,000 : whereby the said sum, with the like 
sum in credit, makes £80,000 ; and with the £20,000 reserved, 
are £100,000. 

I might here add many more particulars : but being the 
same as have already been noted by others, I shall conclude 
with adding one observation; which I take to be of con- 
sequence, viz. : 

That the Hollanders do rid their hands of two trades 
The Holland- which are of greatest turmoil and danger; and 
rusblndme'n°" yet of Icast profit. . 

or foot soldiers. f hc first, whcrcof, is that of a common and private 
soldier. For such they can hire from England, Scotland, and 
Germany, to venture their lives for sixpence a day ; whilst 
they themselves safely and quietly follow such trades, where- 
by the meanest of them gain six times as much. And withal, 
by this entertainment of such strangers for soldiers, their 
country becomes more and more peopled : forasmuch as 
the children of such strangers are Hollanders, and take to 
trades ; whilst new strangers are admitted ad infinitum. 
Besides, these soldiers, at convenient intervals, do at least 
as much work as is equivalent to what they spend. 

And consequently, by this way of employing of strangers 
for soldiers, they people the country and save their own 
persons from danger and misery, without any real expense ; 
effecting by this method what others have in vain attempted 
by Laws for Naturalizing of strangers; as if men could be 
charmed to transplant themselves from their own native, 
into a foreign country, merely by words, and for the bare 
leave of being called by a new name. In Ireland, Laws of 
Naturalization have had little effect to bring in aliens; and 
it is no wonder, since Englishmen will not go thither, without 



''i^6^7']Mankind,like Land, worth 2o years' purchase. 25 

they may have the pay of soldiers, or some other advantage 
amounting to maintenance. 



Having intimated the way by which the Hollanders do 
increase their people ; I shall here digress to set down the 
way of computing the value of every head, one with another: 
and that by the instance of people in England, viz. : 

Suppose the people of England be 6,000,000 in number ; 
that their expense at £"] per head, be ;£"42, 000,000. The method o^ 
Suppose also that the rent of the lands be vXrotle,!" 
^£"8, 000, 000 ; and the yearly profit of all personal and People. 
estate be ;£"8,ooo,ooo more. It must needs follow, that the 
labour of the people must have supplied the remaining 
£26,000,000. The which multiplied by 20 (the mass of man- 
kind being worth twenty years' purchase as well as land), 
makes £520,000,000, as the value of the whole people : 
which number divided by 6,000,000 makes above £80 sterl- 
ing to be the value of each head of man, woman, and child ; 
and of adult persons, twice as much. From whence, we may 
learn to compute the loss we have sustained by the Plague, 
by the slaughter of men in war, and by the sending them 
abroad into the service of foreign Princes. 



The other trade of which the Hollanders have rid their 
hands, is the old patriarchal trade of being cow- keepers; 
and in a great measure, of that which concerns the plough- 
ing and sowing of corn : having put that employment upon 
the Danes and Polanders \FoUs\ ; from whom they have 
their young cattle and corn. 

Now here we may take notice, that as trades and curious 
Arts increase, so the trade of husbandry will decrease ; or 
else the wages of husbandmen must rise, and consequently 
the rents of lands must fall. 

For proof whereof, I dare affirm that, if all the husband- 
men of England, who now earn but 8^. a day [^2s. now^ 
or thereabouts, could become tradesmen {mechanics] and earn 
i6ii. a day [=45. now] (which is no great wages, 2s, and 
2S. 6i. [=6s. and ys. 6d. now] being usually given) • that then, 
it would be the advantage of England to throw up their 



26 Anticipation of English manufactures, r^'"" 7' ^fe),: 

husbandry, and to make no use of their lands, but for grass, 
horses, milch cows, gardens, and orchards, &c. Which, if it 
be so, and if Trade and Manufacture have increased in Eng- 
land, that is to say, if a greater part of the people apply 
themselves to those faculties than there did heretofore ; and if 
the price of corn be no greater now than when husbandmen 
Reasons why wcrc morc numcrous and tradesmen fewer ; it 
rents must fall. foUows from that singlc reason, though others may 
be added, that rents of land must fall. As for example, suppose 
the price of wheat be 5s. or 60^. the bushel. Now, if the rent 
of the land whereon it grows, be the Third Sheaf : then of 
the 6od., 2od. is for the land, and 40^. for the husbandman. 
But if the husbandman's wages should rise one-eighth part, 
or from Sd. to gd. per diem, then the husbandman's share in 
the bushel of wheat rises from 40^. to 4^d. ; and, conse- 
quently, the rent of the land must fall from 2od. to 15^. 
For we suppose the price of the wheat still remains the 
same, especially since we cannot raise it : for if we did 
attempt it, corn would be brought in to us, as into Holland, 
from foreign parts, where the state of husbandry was not 
changed. 

And thus I have done with the First principal Conclusion, 
that a small territory and even a few people, may by Situation^ 
Trade, and Policy, be made equivalent to a greater ; and that con- 
venience for shipping and water carriage do most eminently and 
fundamentally conduce thereunto. 



CHAPTER II. 

That some land of taxes and public levies may rather increase, 
than diminish the wealth of the kingdom. 

F THE money or other effects levied from the 
people by way of tax, were destroyed and what shifting 

-1 -1 J J iU -i. • 1 ji . 1 ofmoney from 

annihilated; then it is clear that such hand [to hand] 
levies would diminish the Common ^'"^"^ °^ 
Wealth. Or if the same were exported out of the kingdom, 
without any return at all ; then tlie case would be also the 
same or worse. 




^"7' ^j6%-y^U RATION, THE TEST OF NATIONAL WeALTH. 27 

But if what is levied as aforesaid be only transferred 
from one hand to another ; then we are only to consider, 
Whether the said money or commodities are taken from 
an improving hand, and given to an ill husband ; or vice 
versa ? 

As, for example, suppose that money, by way of tax, be 
taken from one who spendeth the same in superfluous eating 
and drinking, and delivered to another who employeth the 
same in improving of land, in fishing, in working of mines, 
in manufacture, &c. ; it is manifest that such tax is an 
advantage to the State whereof the said different persons 
are members. 

Nay, if money be taken from him, who spendeth the same, 
as aforesaid, upon eating and drinking, or any other perishing 
commodity ; and the same be transferred to one that 
bestoweth it on Clothes : I say, that, even in this case, the 
Common Wealth hath some little advantage ; because clothes 
do not altogether perish so soon as meat and drinks. But if 
the same be spent in Furniture of Houses, the advantage is 
yet a little more ; if in Building of Houses, yet more ; if in 
Improving of Lands, working of mines, fishing, &c., yet more : 
but, most of all, in bringing gold and silver into the country, 
because those things are not only not perishable ; but are 
esteemed for wealth at all times and everywhere. Whereas 
other commodities which are perishable, and whose value 
depends upon the fashion, or which are contingently scarce 
and plentiful, are Wealth but pro hie et nunc ; as shall be else- 
where said. 

In the next place, if the people of any country, who have 
not already a full employment, should be enjoined Taxing of new 
or taxed to work upon such commodities as are im- ^Thlcommon 
ported from abroad : I say, that such a tax also weaith. 
doth improve the Common Wealth. 

Moreover, if persons who live by begging, cheating, steal- 
ing, gaming, borrowing without intention of re- The taxing of 
storing ; who, by those ways, do get from the ^'^'^''^" 
credulous and careless, more than is sufficient for the sub- 
sistence of such persons ; I say, that although the State 
should have no present employment for such persons, and 
consequently should be forced to bear the whole charge of 
their livelihood : yet it were more for the public profit, to give 



2 8 Common Wealth rests on material things. [^,"^^: 

all such persons a regular and competent allowance by 
public tax, than to suffer them to spend extravagantly at the 
only charge of careless, credulous, and good-natured people ; 
and to expose the Common Wealth to the loss of so many 
able men, whose lives are taken away for the crimes which ill 
discipline doth occasion. 

On the contrary, if the stocks [capital] of laborious and in- 
genious men, who are not only beautifying the country where 
they live, by elegant diet, apparel, furniture, housing, pleasant 
gardens, orchards, and public edifices, &c. ; but are also in- 
creasing the gold, silver, and jewels of the country by trade 
and arms: I say, if the stock of these men should be 
diminished by a tax, and transferred to such as do nothing at 
all but eat and drink, sing, play, and dance ; nay, to such as 
study the metaphysics or other needless speculation, or else 
employ themselves in any other way which produces no 
material thing, or things oi real use and value in the Common 
Wealth— in this case, I say the Wealth of the Public will be 
diminished ; otherwise than as such exercises are recreations 
and refreshments of the mind, and which, being moderately 
used, do gratify and dispose men to what is in itself more 
considerable. 

Wherefore upon the whole matter, to know whether a 
A Judgement tax will do good or harm, the state of the people 
aSvanTa" ^^d their employments must be well known, that 
ge^us. is to say : 

What part of the people are unfit for labour by their 
infancy or impotency ; and also what part are exempt 
from the same by reason of their wealth, function, or 
dignities, or by reason of their charge and employments 
otherwise than in governing, directing, and preserving 
those who are appointed to Labour and Arts ? 

2. In the next place, computation must be made, What 
part of those who are fit for Labour and Arts as afore- 
said, are able to perform the work of the Nation, in its 
present state and measure ? 

3. It is to be considered. Whether the remainder can make 
all, or any part of those commodities which are imported 
from abroad ? which of them ? and how much in par- 
ticular ? The remainder of which sort of people, if any 
be, may, safely, and without possible prejudice to the 



^''T'^fe"?"] ^^^ PRINCIPLES OF DuTCH TAXATION. 29 

Common Wealth, be employed in Arts and exercises of 
pleasure and ornament : the greatest whereof, is the 
improvement of natural knowledge [natural science]. 

Having thus, in general, illustrated this point ; which, I 
think, needs no other proof but illustration : I come next to 
intimate that no part of Europe hath paid so much, by way 
of tax and public contribution, as Holland and Zealand, for 
this last hundred years ; and yet no country hath, in the 
same time, increased its wealth comparably to them. And it 
is manifest that they have followed the general considerations 
above mentioned, for they tax meats and drinks most heavily 
cff all, to restrain the excessive expense of those things which 
twenty-four hours doth, as to the use of man, wholly annihi- 
late ; and they are more favourable to commodities of greater 
duration. 

Nor do they tax according to what men gain, but in extra- 
ordinary cases : but always according to what men spend ; 
and, most of all, according to what they spend needlessly, 
and without prospect of return. 

Upon which grounds, their Customs upon goods imported 
and exported are generally low ; as if they intended by them, 
only to keep an account of their Foreign Trade ; and to re- 
taliate upon their neighbouring States, the prejudices done 
them, by their prohibitions and impositions. 

It is further to be observed, that, since the year 1636, the 
taxes and public levies made in England, Scotland, and 
Ireland, have been prodigiously greater than at any it is probable 
time heretofore ; and yet the said kingdoms have i^,d Sand 
increased in their wealth and strength for these last aj^ grown 
forty years [i 637-1 677, therefore this Essay was taxes. 
written about 1677], as shall hereafter be shown. 

It is said, that the King of France, at present, doth levy 
the Fifth Part of his people's wealth ; and yet great The difference 
ostentation is made of the present riches and revenue^ 
strength of that Kingdom. 

Now, great care must be had in distinguishing between 
the wealth of the People, and that of an Absolute Monarch, 
who taketh from the people, where, when, and in what pro- 
portion he pleaseth. 

Moreover, the subjects of two monarchs may be equally 
rich ; and yet one monarch may be double as rich as the 



30 Louis XIV. has i of wealth of France. [^'- f ^f^;v 

other, viz. : if one take the tenth part of the peoples' sub- 
stance to his own dispose [disposal]; and the other but the 
twentieth. 

Nay, the monarch of a poorer people may appear more 
splendid and gracious than that of a richer : which, perhaps, 
may be somewhat the case of France, as shall be examined. 

As an instance and application of what has been said, I 
conceive that in Ireland, wherein are about 1,200,000 people, 
Thatjreiand ^j^^ nearly 300,000 smokes or hearths, it were 
"d7anfage° morc profitable for the King that each Head paid 
rpoyTnl^"^ 2s. [=6s.now] worth of flax, than that each Smoke 
should pay 2s. in silver. And that for the following reasons : 

Ireland being under-peopled, and land and cattle being 
very cheap ; there being everywhere store of fish and fowl ; 
the ground yield excellent roots (and particularly that bread- 
like root, Potatoes) ; and withal they being able to perform 
their husbandry with such harness and tackle as each man 
can make with his own hands ; and living in such houses as 
almost every man can build ; and every housewife being a 
spinner and dyer of wool and yarn : they can live and subsist 
after their present fashion, without the use of gold and silver 
money ; and can supply themselves with the necessaries 
above mentioned, without labouring two hours /er diem. 

Now, it hath been found that, by reason of insolvencies 
arising rather from the uselessness, than want, of money among 
these poor people ; that from 300,000 hearths, which should 
have yielded £30,000 per annum, not £15,000 of money could 
be levied. Whereas it is easily imagined that four or five 
persons, dwelling in that cottage which hath but one smoke, 
could easily have planted a ground plot, of about forty feet 
square, with flax, or the fiftieth part of an acre : for so much 
ground will bear 8s, or 10s. worth of that commodity, and 
the rent of so much ground, in few places amounts to a 
penny per annum. Nor is there any skill requisite to this 
practice, wherewith the country is not already familiar. 

Now as for a market for the flax, there is imported into 
Holland itself, over and above what that country produces, 
as much flax as is there sold for between £160,000 and 
£200,000; and into England and Ireland is imported [from 
Hollandj as much linen cloth made of flax, and there spent 



^''^■^S;-] Irish taxes to be paid in Flax. 31 

[used] as is worth above half a million of money. As shall be 
shewn hereafter. 

Wherefore, having shewn that silver money is useless to 
the poor people of Ireland ; that half the hearth money could 
not be raised by reason thereof ; that the people are not a 
fifth part employed ; that the people and land of Ireland are 
competently qualified for flax ; that one pennyworth of land 
produces los. worth of the same ; and that there is market 
enough, and enough for ;£"ioo,ooo worth : I conceive my 
Proposition sufficiently proved ; at least, to set forwards and 
promote a practice, which both the present Law and Interest 
of the country doth require. Especially, since if all the flax 
so produced should yield nothing, yet there is nothing lost ; 
the same time having been worse spent before. 

Upon the same grounds, the like tax of 2s. per head may 
be raised with the like advantage upon the people of Eng- 
land, which will amount to £600,000 per annum ; to be paid 
in Flax manufactured into all sorts of Linens, threads, tapes, 
and laces ; which we now receive from France, Flanders, 
Holland, and Germany : the value whereof doth far exceed 
the sum last mentioned, as hath appeared by the examina- 
tion of particulars. 

It is observed by clothiers and others, who employ great 
numbers of poor people, that when corn is ex- J^"J^^^"„p°" 
tremely plentiful, that the labour of the poor is commodities 
proportionably dear ; and scarcely to be had at all : St'ess^tax. 
so licentious are they who labour only to eat, or rather to drink. 

Wherefore, when so many acres sown with corn, as do 
usually produce a sufficient store for the nation, shall pro- 
duce perhaps double to what is expected, or necessary ; it 
seems not unreasonable that this common blessing of GOD 
should be applied to the common good of all people, repre- 
sented by their Sovereign ; much rather than that the same 
should be abused by the vile and brutish part of mankind, to 
the prejudice of the Common Wealth : and consequently that 
such surplusage of corn should be sent to public storehouses ; 
from thence to be disposed of, to the best advantage of the public. 

Now, if the corn spent in England, at 5s. [=155. now] per 
bushel of wheat, and 2S. 6d. of barley, be worth ,^10,000, 000 
communibus annis ; it follows that in years of great plenty, 
when the grains are one-third part cheaper, that a vast 



32 English Taxes payable in Linen, py^^il'?: 

advantage might accrue to the Common Wealth, which is 
now spent in overfeeding of the people in quantity or quality, 
and so indisposing them to their usual labour. 

The like may be said of Sugar, Tobacco, and Pepper, 
which custom hath now made necessary to all sorts of 
people ; and which the overplanting of them, hath made un- 
reasonably cheap. I say, it is not absurd that the Public 
should be advantaged by this extraordinary plenty. 

That an excise should be laid upon Currants also is not 
unreasonable : not only for this, but also for other reasons. 

The way of the present Militia, or Trained Bands, is a 
ofthetaxby gentle tax upon the country: because it is only a 
Militia, and fcw days' labour in the yea.T, of a ie\w men in 
so^rtsTf armTes. rcspcct to the wholc ; using their own goods, that 
is, their own arms. 

Now, if there be 3,000,000 of males in England, there be 
about 200,000 of them who are between the age of sixteen 
and thirty, unmarried persons, and who live by their labour 
and service : for of so many, or thereabouts, the present 
Militia consists. 

Now, if 150,000 of these were armed and trained as Foot, 
and 50,000 as Horse (Horse being of special advantage in 
islands), the said forces at land, with 30,000 men at sea, 
would, by GOD's ordinary blessing, defend this nation, 
being an island, against any force in view. 

But the Charge of arming, disciplining, and rendezvousing 
all these men, twice or thrice a year, would be a very gentle 
tax levied by the people themselves, and paid to themselves. 

Moreover, if out of the said number, one-third part were 
selected, of such as are more than ordinarily fit and disposed 
for war, to be exercised and rendezvoused fourteen or fifteen 
times per annum ; the charge thereof, being but a fortnight's 
pay, would also be a very gentle tax. 

Lastly, if out of this last-mentioned number, one-third 
again should be selected ; making about 16,000 Foot and 
nearly 6,000 Horse to be exercised and rendezvoused forty 
days in the year: I say, that the Charge of all these three 
Militias, allowing the latter six weeks' pay per annum, would 
not cost -ahovQ £120,000 per ammm; which I take to bean 
easy burden for so great a benefit. 



^^T'^iIJjG Scotch Taxes PAYABLE in Herrings. 33 

Forasmuch as the present Navy of England requires 
36,000 men to man it ; and for that the English For supplying 
Trade of Shipping requires about 48,000 men to Merdiants^"** 
manage it also : it follow that to perform both well, with seamen. 
there ought to be about 72,000 men (and not 84,000) com- 
petently qualified for these services. For want whereof, we 
see that it is a long while before a Royal Navy can be 
manned : which till it be, it is of no effectual use, but lies at 
charge. And we see likewise, upon these occasions, that 
merchants are put to great straights and inconveniences, and 
do pay excessive rates for the carrying on their trade. 

Now if 24,000 able-bodied tradesmen [artisans] were, by 6,000 
of them per annum, brought up and fitted for sea service ; and 
for their encouragement allowed 20s. [=£3 now] per annum 
for every year they had been at sea, even when they stay at 
home, not exceeding £6 for those who have served six years 
or upward ; it follows that about ;£*72,ooo, at the medium of 
;^3 per man, would salariate the whole number of 24,000. 

And so, forasmuch as half the seamen which manage the 
merchants' trade, are supposed to be always in harbour, and 
are about 24,000 men ; the said half together with the 
Auxiliaries last mentioned, would, upon all emergencies, man 
out the whole Royal Navy with 36,000, and leave to the 
Merchants 12,000 of the abler Auxiliaries to perform their busi- 
ness in harbour till others come home from sea. And thus 
36,000, 24,000, and 12,000 make the 72,000 above mentioned. 

I say that more than this sum of ^72,000 is fruitlessly 
spent and overpaid by the Merchants, whensoever a great 
fleet is to be fitted out. 

Now these, whom I call Auxiliary Seamen, are such as 
have another trade besides, wherewith to maintain themselves 
when they are not employed at sea : and the charge of main- 
taining them, though ^^72,000 per annum, I take to be little 
or nothing, for the reasons above mentioned, and conse- 
quently an easy tax to the people, because levied by, and 
paid to themselves. 

As we propounded that Ireland should be taxed with flax ; 
England, by linen and other manufactures of the a herring tax 
same; I conceive that Scotland also might be taxed "po" Scotland. 
as much [i.e., ;^30,ooo], to bepaid in herrings,as Ireland in flax. 

C 3 



34 Men-of-war of 300 to 1,300 tons are best, [^^^g^; 

Now the three taxes, viz., of Flax, Linen, and Herrings; 
and the maintenance of the triple Militia, and of the 
Auxiliary Seamen above mentioned, do, all five of them 
together, amount to ^^i, 000, 000 of money. The raising 
whereof is not a million spent, but gain unto the Common 
Wealth ; unless it can be made to appear that, by reason of 
all or any of them, the exportation of woollen manufactures, 
lead, and tin are lessened ; or of such commodities as our 
own East and West India trade do produce : forasmuch as 
I conceive that the Exportation of these last-mentioned 
commodities is the Touchstone whereby the wealth of 
England is tried, and the Pulse whereby the health of the 
Kingdom may be discerned. 

CHAPTER III. 

That France cannot, by reason of natural and perpetual impedi- 
ments, be more powerful at sea than the English or Hollanders 
now are, or may be. 

|OwER at sea consists chiefly of Men able to fight at 
sea ; and that, in such shipping as is most The qualities 
proper for the seas wherein they serve : °he^defence^of 
and those are, in these Northern seas, England, 
ships from between 300 to 1,300 tons ; and of those, such as 
draw much water, and have a deep latch [hold] in the sea, in 
order to keep a good wind, and not fall to leeward, a matter 
of vast advantage in sea service. 

Wherefore it is to be examined, Whether the King of 
France hath ports in the Northern seas (where he hath most 
occasion for his fleets of war, in any contests with England), 
able to receive the vessels above mentioned, in all weathers, 
both in winter and summer season ? 

For if the King of France would bring to sea an equal 
number of fighting men with England and Holland, in small 
floaty leeward vessels, he would certainly be of the weaker 
side. For a vessel of 1,000 tons, manned with 500 men, 
fighting with five vessels of 200 tons, each manned with 100 
men apiece, shall, in common reason, have the better, offen- 
sively ani defensively : forasmuch as the great ship can 
carry such ordnance as can reach the small ones at a far 




^fejy;] Few good harbours on the West of France. 35 

greater distance than those can reach, or at least hurt the 
other ; and can batter and sink at a distance, when small ones 
can scarce pierce. 

Moreover, it is more difficult for men, out of a small vessel 
to enter a tall ship ; than for men from a higher place to leap 
down into a lower : nor is small shot [musketry] so effectual 
upon a tall ship, as vice versa. 

And as for vessels drawing much water, and consequently 
keeping good wind ; they can take or leave leeward vessels 
at pleasure, and secure themselves from being boarded by 
them. Moreover the windward ship has a fairer mark at a 
leeward ship, than vice versa ; and can place her shot upon 
such parts of the leeward vessel, as upon the next tack will 
be under water. 

Now then, the King of France having no ports able to 
receive large windward vessels, between Dunkirk and 
Ushant : what other ships he can bring into those seas will 
not be considerable. 

As for the wide ocean, which his harbours of Brest and 
Charente do look into : it affordeth it him no advantage upon 
an enemy ; there being so great a latitude of engaging or not, 
even when the parties are in sight of each other. 
^ Wherefore, although the King of France were immensely 
rich, and could build what ships he pleased, both for number 
and quality : yet if he have not ports to receive and shelter 
that sort and size of shipping which is fit for his purpose, the 
said riches will, in this case, be fruitless, and a mere expense 
without any return or profit. 

Some will say that other nations cannot build so good 
ships as the English. I do indeed hope they cannot. But 
because it seems too possible that they may, sooner or later, 
by practice and experience, I shall not make use of that 
argument : having bound myself to shew that the impedi- 
ments of France, as to this purpose, are natural and perpetual. 

Ships and guns do not fight of themselves ; but by men, 
who act and manage them : wherefore it is more material to 
shew. That the King of France neither hath, nor can have 
men sufficient to man a fleet of equal strength to that of the 
King of England, viz. : 

The King of England's Navy consists of about 70,000 tons 



36 France has 150,000 tons of shipping. P' 7" ^^g^; 

of shipping, which requires 36,000 men to man it. These 
The quaiifica- men being supposed to be divided into eight parts, 

tions of seamen y • J^^ Z 'lii ^ ii r 

for defence. I conceive that one-eighth part must be persons of 
great experience and reputation in sea service : another 
eighth part must be such as have used the sea, seven years 
and upwards : half of them, or four-eighths part more, must 
be such as have used the sea above a twelvemonth, viz., 
two, three, four, five, or six years : allowing but one quarter 
of the whole complements to be such as never were at sea at 
all, or at most but one voyage, or upon one expedition. So 
that, at a medium, I reckon that the whole Fleet must be 
men of three or four years' growth [in seamanship], one with 
another. 

FouRNiER, a late judicious writer, making it his busi- 
ness to persuade the world, how considerable the King of 
France was, or might be, at sea, in the ninety-second and 
The number of ninety-third pages of h.\% Hydrography, saith that 
France.'" " thcrc was One place in Brittany which had fur- 
nished the King with 1,400 seamen, and that perhaps the 
whole sea coast of France might have furnished him with 
fifteen times as many." Now, supposing his whole allegation 
were true, yet the said number amounts but to 21,000 : all 
which, if the whole Trade of Shipping in France were quite 
and clean abandoned, would not, by above a third, man out 
a Fleet equivalent to that of the King of England. And if 
the Trade were but barely kept alive, there would not be one- 
third part of men enough to man the said Fleet. 

But if the Shipping Trade of France be not above a quarter 
as great as that of England ; and that one-third part of the 
same, namely, the fishing trade to the Banks of Newfound- 
land, is not peculiar or fixed to the French: then, I say, that 
if the King of England, having power to press men, cannot, 
under two or three months' time, man his Fleet ; then the 
King of France, with less than a quarter of the same help, 
can never do it at all. 

For in France, as shall elsewhere be shewn, there are not 
above 150,000 tons of trading vessels ; and consequently not 
above 15,000 seamen, reckoning a man to 10 tons. 

As it has been shewn, that the King of France cannot, at 
present, man such a Fleet as is above described : we come 



^fg^^:] Dangers of our seamen serving the French. 2>7 

next to shew, That he never can ! being under natural and 
perpetual impediments, viz. : 

1. If there be but 15,000 seamen in all France, to manage 
its Trade ; it is not to be supposed that the said Trade 
should be extinguished ; nor that it should spare above 
5,000 of the said 15,000 towards manning the Fleet 
which requires 35,000. 

Now the deficient 30,000 must be supplied, one of 
these four ways. Either, first, by taking in ^1^^^^^*^^^ 
landsmen ; of which sort there must not be French must 
above 10,000 : since the seamen will never be men!^^^^*" 
contented without being the major part. Nor do they 
heartily wish well to landsmen at all, or rejoice even at 
those successes of which the landsmen can why seamen 
claim any share : thinking it hard that they Landsmen. 
themselves, who are bred to miserable, painful, and 
dangerous employments, and yet profitable to the 
Common Wealth, should, at a time when booty and 
purchase is to be gotten, be clogged or hindered by any 
conjunction with landsmen, or forced to admit those to 
an equal share with themselves. 

2. The seamen, which we suppose 20,000, must be had, 
that is, hired from other nations ; which cannot be 
without tempting them with so much wages as exceeds 
what is given by merchants : and withal to counterpoise 
the danger of being hanged by their own The danger of 
Prince, and allowed no quarter if they are menl'thetrserv. 
taken ; the trouble of conveying themselves ng tW French, 
away, when restraints and prohibitions are upon them; 
and also the infamy of having been apostates to their 
own country and cause. I say their wages must be 
double to what their own Prince gives them ; and their 
assurance must be very great, that they shall not be, at 
[the] long run, abused or slighted by those that em- 
ployed them, as " hating the traitor, although they love 
the treason." 

I say, moreover, that those who will be thus tempted 
away, must be the basest and lewdest sort of seamen ; 
and such as have not enough of honour and conscience 
to qualify them for any trust or gallant performance. 

3. Another way to increase seamen is to put great num» 



;^8 How MEN BECOME GOOD SEAMEN, l^'" 7" ^S- 

bers of landsmen upon ships of war, in order to their being 
seamen : but this course cannot be effectual, not only 
How men learn for the above-mentioncd antipathy between 
seamen!" laudsmen and seamen ; but also because it is 

seen that men at sea do not apply themselves to labour 
and practice, without more necessity than happens in 
over-manned shipping. For where there are fifty men 
in a vessel that ten can sufficiently navigate, the super- 
numerary forty will improve little : but where there shall 
be of ten, but one or two supernumeraries ; there 
necessity will often call upon every man to set his hand 
to the work, which must be well done, at the peril of 
their own lives. 

Moreover, seamen shifting vessels, almost every six or 
twelve months, do sometimes sail in small barks, some- 
times in middling ships, and sometimes in great vessels 
of defence ; sometimes in lighters, sometimes in hoighs 
[hoys], sometimes in ketches, sometimes in three-masted 
ships. Sometimes they go to the Southward, some- 
times to the Northward; sometimes they coast, some- 
times they cross the ocean. By all which variety of 
service, they do in time complete themselves in every 
part and circumstance of their faculty. Whereas those 
who go out for a summer in a man-of-war, have not that 
variety of practice, nor a direct necessity of doing any- 
thing at all. 

Besides, it is three or four years, at a medium, where- 
in a seaman must be made ; neither can there be less 
than three seamen, to make a fourth of a landsman. 
Consequently the 15,000 seamen of France can increase 
but 5,000 in three or four years : and unless their Trade 
should increase with their seamen in proportion, the 
King must be forced to bear the charge of this improve- 
ment out of the public Stock [national Exchequer], which 
is intolerable. 
So as the question which now remains is, Whether the 
Whether the shipping tradc of France is likely to increase ? 
»^''p>"K trade Upon which account it is to be considered 
likely to That France is sufficiently stored with all kinds 

increaie ^^ ncccssarics ; as with corn, cattle, wine, salt, 

linen cloth, paper, silk, fruits, &c. : so as they need little 



^''■^■'^S'] '^^^ "^^^^^^^ OF THE French exports. 39 

shipping to import more commodities of weight or bulk. 
Neither is there anything of bulk exported out of France, but 
wines and salt; the weight whereof is under 100,000 tons 
per annum, yielding not employment to above 25,000 tons 
of shipping: and these are, for the most part, Dutch and 
English ; who are not only already in possession of the said 
trade, but also are better fitted to maintain it than the French 
are, or perhaps ever can be. And that for the following 
reasons, viz. : 

1. Because the French cannot victual so cheap Reasons why 
as the English and Dutch, nor sail with so "cannot. 
few hands. 

2. The French, for want of good coasts and harbours, 
cannot keep their ships in port under double the charge 
that the English and the Hollanders can. 

3. By reason of paucity, and distance of their ports one 
from another, their seamen and tradesmen [mechanics] 
relating to shipping, cannot correspond with and assist 
one another so easily, cheaply, and advantageously as in 
other places. 

Wherefore, if their shipping trade is not likely to increase 
within themselves, and much less to increase by their beating 
out the English and Hollanders from being the Carriers of 
the World ; it follows that their seamen will not be increased 
by the increase of their said Trade. 

Wherefore, and for that they are not likely to be increased 
by any of the several ways above specified ; and for that their 
ports are not fit to receive ships of burden and quality fit for 
their purpose, and that by reason by the less fitness of their 
ports than that of their neighbours' ; I conceive that what 
was propounded hath been competently proved. 

The aforenamed FouRNiER, in the ninety-second and ninety- 
third pages of his Hydrography, hath laboured to prove the 
contrary of all this ; unto which I refer the reader : not 
thinking his arguments of any weight at all, in the present 
case. Nor, indeed, doth he make his comparisons with the 
English and Hollanders, but with the Spaniards : who, nor 
the Grand Signior [the Turks] (the latter of whom hath greater 
advantages to be powerful at sea than the King of France) 
could ever attain to any illustrious greatness in Naval Power; 
having often attempted, but never succeeded in the same. 



5 



40 The French and English territories. PT'^S;: 

Nor is it easy to believe that the King of England should, 
for so many years, have continued his Title to the Sovereignty 
of the Narrow Seas against his neighbours (ambitious enough 
to have gotten it from him), had not their impediments been 
Natural and Perpetual, and such as we say do obstruct the 
King of France. 

CHAPTER IV. 

That the People and Territories of the King of England are, 
naturally y nearly as considerable for wealth and strength, as those 
of France. 

He Author of The State of England, among the 
many useful truths and observations he of comparison 
hath set down, delivers the proportion tftwecn the 

'.. r-r^ii 1 Territories of 

between the territories oi England and England and 
France to be as 30 to 82 : the which, if it be 
true, then England, Scotland, and Ireland, with the islands 
unto them belonging, will, taken altogether, be nearly as big 
as France. 

Though I ought to take all advantages for proving the 
paradox in hand : yet I had rather grant that England, 
Scotland, and Ireland, with the islands before mentioned, 
together with the planted parts of Newfoundland, New 
England, New Netherland [New York], Virginia, Maryland, 
Carolina, Jamaica, Bermudas, Barbadoes, and all the rest of 
the Caribbee Islands, with what the King hath in Asia and 
Africa, do 7iot contain so much territory as France and what 
planted land [Canada, S-c] the King of France hath also in 
America. And if any man will be heterodox in behalf of the 
French Interest, I would be contented, against my knowledge 
and judgement, to allow the King of France's territories to be 
a Seventh, Sixth, or even a Fifth greater than those of the 
King of England : believing that both Princes have more 
land than they do employ to its utmost use. 



And here, I beg leave, among the several matters which I 
intend for serious, to interpose a jocular and perhaps ridicu- 
lous digression ; and which I indeed desire men to look upon 



^"^■^il;?'] -^ DREAM OF A POLITICAL ECONOMIST. 4I 

rather as a Dream or reverie than a rational Proposition: the 
which is, that if all the Moveables and People of Ireland and 
of the Highlands of Scotland were transported into a Proposition 
the rest of Great Britain, that then the King and J°;,^^;5';"„^ 
his subjects would thereby become more rich and the Highlands 
strong, both offensively and defensively, than now ° ''°'^" ' 
they are. 

It is true, I have heard many wise men say, when they 
were bewailing the vast losses of the English in preventing 
and suppressing rebellions in Ireland, and considering how 
little profit hath returned either to the King or subjects of 
England, for their five hundred years' doing and suffering 
in that country : I say, I have heard wise men, in such their 
melancholies, wish " that (the people of Ireland being saved) 
the island were sunk under water ! " 

Now it troubles me, that the distemper of my own mind, 
in this point, carries me to dream that the benefit of those 
wishes may practically be obtained, without sinking that 
vast mountainous island under water; which I take to be 
somewhat difficult : for although Dutch engineers may drain 
its bogs, yet I know no artists that can sink its mountains. 
If ingenious and learned men, among whom I reckon Sir 
Thomas More and Descartes, have disputed, That we who 
think ourselves awake, are or may be really in a dream ; and 
since the greatest absurdities of dreams are but a preposter- 
ous and tumultuary contexture of realities : I will crave the 
umbrage [example] of these great men last named ; to say 
something for this wild conception, with submission to the 
better judgement of all those that can prove themselves 
awake. 

If there were but One man living in England, then the 
benefit of the whole territory could be but the livelihood of 
that One man : but if another man were added, the rent or 
benefit of the same would be double ; if two, triple ; and so 
forward, until so many men were planted in it, as the whole 
territory could afford food unto. For if a man would know 
what any land is worth, the true and natural question must 
be. How many men will it feed ? How many men are there to 
be fed ? 

But to speak more practically. Land of the same quantity 
and quality in England, is generally worth four or five times 



4 



2 Proposed transplantation of the Gaels. p'' T- ^^e^jl 



as much as in Ireland, and but one-quarter or one-third of 
what it is worth in HoUand : because England is four or five 
times better peopled than Ireland, and but a quarter so well 
as Holland. 

And, moreover, where the rent is advanced by reason of 
the multitude of people, there, the number of years' purchase 
for which an inheritance may be sold is also advanced, 
though perhaps not in the very same proportion. For 20s. 
[=£3 iwic'] per annum in Ireland, may be worth but £S 
[=£24 now]; and in England, where titles are very sure, 
above ;£'20 [ = £()0 now] ; and in Holland, above £30 [=£90 
now], 

I suppose that in Ireland and the Highlands of Scotland, 
there may be about 1,800,000 people, or about a Fifth part of 
what are in all the three Kingdoms [i.e., 9,000,000]. 

Wherefore the First question will be, Whether England, 
Wales, and the Lowlands of Scotland cannot afford 
food (that is to say, corn, fish, flesh, and fowl) to a fifth 
part more people than are, at present, planted upon it ; 
with the same labour that the said fifth part do now take, 
where they are ? For if so, then what is propounded is 
naturally possible. 

2. It is to be inquired. What the value of the Immove- 
ables, which, upon such removal, must be left behind, 
are worth ? For if they be worth less than the advance- 
ment of the price of land in England will amount unto ; 
then the Proposal is to be considered. 

3. If the relict ]r din qui shed] Lands and the Immoveables 
left behind upon them, may be sold for money ; or if no 
other nation shall dare meddle with them, without pay- 
ing well for them ; and if the nation who shall be 
admitted, shall be less able to prejudice and annoy the 
Transplanlees into England, than before : then I con- 
ceive that the whole Proposal will be a pleasant and 
profitable Dream indeed ! 

As to the First point, Whether England and the Lowlands 
That Enc'and of Scotland can maintain a Fifth part more people 
lands of Scot- than they now do, that is to say, 9,000,000 of souls 

land will feed • no 

the people in all i 

Scmiand"':lnd ^^^" ^^swcr thcrcunto, I first say, that the said 

Ireland.' territories of Endand and the Lowlands of 



% ^xl;/'] Offering Ireland for sale to foreigners. 43 

Scotland contain about 36,000,000 acres, that is, 4 acres 
for every head (man, woman, and child) : but the United 
Provinces do not allow above i| acres. And England 
itself, rescinding [excluding] Wales, hath but 3 acres to 
every head ; according to the present state of tillage and 
husbandry. 

Now if we consider that England having but 3 acres to 
a head, as aforesaid, does so abound in victuals as that 
it maketh laws against the importation of cattle, flesh, 
and fish from abroad ; and that the draining of fens, 
improving of forests, inclosing of commons, sowing of 
St. Foyne [sainfoin] and clover-grass, be grumbled 
against by landlords, as the way to depress the price of 
victuals : then it plainly follows that less than 3 acres, 
improved as they may be, will serve the turn ; and 
consequently that 4 will suffice abundantly. 

I could here set down the very number of acres that 

would bear bread, drink, and corn, together with flesh, 

butter, and cheese sufficient to victual 9,000,000 persons, 

as they are victualled in ships and regular families : but 

I shall only say in general, that 12,000,000 acres, viz., 

one-third of 36,000,000 will do it ; supposing that roots, 

fruits, fowls, and fish, and the ordinary profit of lead, 

tin, and iron mines, and woods, would piece up any 

defect that may be feared. 

As to the Second, I say that the Land and Housing in 

Ireland and the Highlands of Scotland, That the value 

at the present market rates, are not worth ofaiithe 

/^ ^ r r- T f quitted lands 

£ 13,000,000 [ = £39,000,000 noiv] 01 money: and unmove- 
nor would the actual charge of transplan- cWg^e°oftrans'^. 
tation proposed, amount to ;^4,ooo,ooo p'q''^"J''^^;°i" ^'■'' 
[ = -^12,000,000 ;?oze'] more. above 

So then the question will be. Whether the ^'7>ooo,ooo. 
benefit expected from this Transplantation will exceed 
;£'i7,ooo,ooo [=£51,000,000 now\. 

To which I say, that the Advantage will probably be 
nearly four times the last-mentioned sum or about 
£69,300,000 [=£207,900,000 now]. 

For if the Rent of all England and Wales and 
the Lowlands of Scotland be about £9,000,000 [= 
£27,000,000 now] per annnni ; and if the Fifth part 



44 Wealth in ratio to Density of Population, [^fg"^; 

of the people be superadded unto the present in- 
habitants of those countries : then the Rent will 
amount to ;£"io,8oo,ooo [ = ;£"3 2, 400,000 now]; and 
the number of years' purchase will rise from 17!^ to 
a fifth part more, which is 21. 

So as the Land, which is now worth but £"9,000,000 
per anmmi, at 17I years' purchase, making 
£157,500,000, will then be worth ^{'lOjSoOjOOO at 
21 years' purchase, viz., ;£226,8oo,ooo [= 
£680,400,000 now] : which is £69,300,000 
[=£207,900,000 now] more than it was before. 

And if any Prince willing to enlarge his terri- 

IhoVu^chase torlcs, will givc anything more than 

Ireland shall £6,500,000, or half the present value, for 

rhemse"ives. the Said relinquished land ; which are 

estimated to be worth £13,000,000 : then the whole 

profit will be above £75,800,000 [=£227,400,000 

now] ; or above Four times the loss, as the same was 

above computed. 

But if any man shall object that it will be dangerous 

unto England, that Ireland should be in the hands of 

any other nation : I answer, in short, that that nation, 

(whoever shall purchase it) being divided by means of 

the said purchase, shall not be more able to annoy 

England than now, in its united condition. Nor is 

Ireland nearer England, than France and Flanders. 

Now if any man shall desire a more clear explanation, 

How, and by what means, the rents of lands shall rise by 

this closer cohabitation of people, above described ? I 

answer, that the advantage will arise in transplanting above 

1,800,000 people, from the poor and miserable trade of 

husbandry, to more beneficial handicrafts. For, when the 

superaddition is made, a very little addition of husbandry to 

the same lands will produce a fifth part more of food, and 

consequently the additional hands, earning but 40s. [=£6 

now] per anmim^ as they may very well do, nay, to £8 [ = £24 

now] per annum at some other trade ; the superlucration will 

be above £3,600,000 [=£10,800,000 now] per annum : which 

at 20 years' purchase is £70,000,000 [=£210,000,000 now]. 

Moreover, as the inhabitants of cities and towns spend 
more commodities and make greater consumptions than those 



^"T'^ie/j] 9,500,000 PEOPLE IN THE British Isles. 45 

who live in wild thin-peopled countries ; so when England 
shall be thicker peopled, in the manner before described, the 
very same people shall then spend more than when they lived 
more sordidly and inurbanely; and further asunder, and 
more out of the sight, observation, and emulation of each 
other : every man desiring to put on better apparel when he 
appears in company than when he has no occasion to be 
seen. 

1 further add that the charge of the Government (Civil, 
Military, and Ecclesiastical) would be more cheap, safe, and 
effectual in this condition of closer cohabitation than other- 
wise : as not only reason, but the example of the United 
Provinces doth demonstrate. 



But to let this whole digression pass for a mere Dream, I 
suppose it will serve to prove that in case the King That the diffe- 

jrr^ , rcncG between 

of England's territories should be a little less than England's and 
those of the King of France, that forasmuch as tory"u not''"'' 
neither of them is overpeopled, the difference is »nateriai. 
not material to the question in hand : 

Wherefore supposing the King of France's advantages to 
be little or nothing in point of Territory ; we come, next, to 
examine and compare the number of Subjects which each of 
these monarchs doth govern. 

The book called The State of France maketh that 
Kingdom to consist of 27,000 parishes. And another book, 
written by a substantial author, who professedly enquires 
into the state of the Church and Churchmen [Clergy] of 
France, sets it down as an extraordinary case, that a parish 
in France should have 600 souls ; where I suppose that the 
said Author (who hath so well examined the matter) is not of 
opinion that every parish, one with another, hath above 500. 
By which reckoning, the whole people of France are about 
13,500,000. 

Now the people of England, Scotland, and Ireland, with 
the islands adjoining, by computation from the number of 
parishes (which commonly have more people in Protestant 
Churches than in Popish countries), as also from the 
Hearth Money, Pole Money, and Excise, amount to about 
9,500,000. 



46 1 3,500,000 Frenchto i 0,000,000 English.P"^ 7' ^SJ: 

The King of There are in New England, about 16,000 men 
h/effecSt mustered in arms, and about 24,000 able to bear 
suiymT^afd arms : and consequently about 150,000 in all. 
the King of And I see no reason why, in all this, and the 
lo.^'^ooo. other Plantations [Colonies] of Asia, Africa, and 
FrluleS"*^ America, there should not be 500,000 in all. But 
27o,oooChurch. ^j^jg last, I Icavc to every man's conjecture. 

men, and the ' •' ,ijyi ir- t 

KingofEng. And consequently, I suppose that the Kmg 01 
'""xhrKmgof England hath about 10,000,000 of subjects w6ms 
SSamen; tevramm orbis, and the King of France about 
and the King' 1^^00,000 as aforcsaid. 

of France, "^'~' ' 

10,000. 

Although it be very material to know the number of Sub- 
jects belonging to each Prince : yet when the question is 
concerning their Wealth and Strength, it is also material to 
examine. How many of them do get More than they spend ? 
and How many Less ? 

In order whereunto, it is to be considered that in the King 
of England's Dominions, there are not 20,000 Churchmen 
[Clergy] : but in France (as the aforementioned Author of 
theirs doth aver, who sets down the particular number of 
each religious Order) there are about 270,000, viz., 250,000 
more than we think necessary ; that is to say, 250,000 with- 
drawn out of the World. 

Now the said number of adult and able-bodied persons are 
equivalent to about double the same number of the promis- 
cuous mass of mankind. And the same Author says, that 
the same Religious Persons do spend, one with another, about 
i8d. per diem, which is triple even, to what a labouring man 
requires. 

Wherefore the said 250,000 Churchmen, living as they do, 
make the King of France's 13,500,000 to be less than 
13,000,000. 

Now if Ten men can defend themselves as well in islands 
as Thirteen can upon the Continent ; then the said Ten 
being not concerned to increase their territory by the 
invasion of others, are as effectual as Thirteen in point of 
Strength also. 

Wherefore that there are more superlucrators in the 
English, than in the French Dominions, we say, as followeth: 



^'■'T'^il??".]'^^^ SEA-LINES OF ENGLAND AND FrANCE. 47 

There be in England, Scotland, Ireland, and the King's 
other territories, above 40,000 seamen ; in The niuui- 
France not above a quarter so manj^, But one ciei^gydoes 
seaman earneth as much as two common K-'igV/"^ 
husbandmen : wherefore this difference in sea- ^l^"f^'^ 
men, addeth to the account of the King of ThemuUi- 
England's subjects, is an advantage, equiva- navlimerdJls 
lent to 60,000 husbandmen. KinroVEng- 

There are in England, Scotland, and Ireland, land's subjects_ 
and all other the King of England's territories, 600,000 
tons of shipping, worth ;£'4,5oo,ooo [=;£"i3,5oo,ooo 
now] of money : and the Annual Charge of maintaining 
the shipping of England by new buildings and repa- 
rations is about one-third part of the same sum 
[;^i,5oo,ooo = 7^4,500,000 wow], which is the wages of 
150,000 husbandmen, but is not the wages of above one- 
third part [i.e., 50,000] of so many artisans as are 
employed upon shipping of all sorts, viz., shipwrights, 
caulkers, joiners, carvers, painters, block-makers, rope- 
makers, mast-makers, smiths of several sorts, flag- 
makers, compass-makers, brewers, bakers, and all other 
sorts of victuallers, all sorts of tradesmen [mechanics] 
relating to guns and gunner's stores. Wherefore there 
being four times more of these artisans in England, &c., 
than in France, they further add to the account of the 
King of England's subjects, the equivalent of 80,000 
husbandmen more. 

The sea-line of England, Scotland, and Ireland, and 
adjacent islands, is about 3,800 miles, accord- The King of 
ing to which length and the whole contents of ^£"1^1"" 
acres, the said land would be an oblong or jf^iiJ'5"f'o^ 
parallelogram figure of 3,800 miles long, and navigable 
about 24 miles broad : and consequently, every Ktngof' ^ 
part of England, Scotland, and Ireland is, one F'^^nce'ses. 
with another, but 12 miles from the sea. 

Whereas France, containing but about 1,000 miles of 
sea-line, is by the like method or computation, about 65 
miles from the sea-side ; and, considering the paucity of 
ports in comparison of what are in the King of England's 
Dominions, as good as 70 miles distant from a port. 

Upon which grounds, it is clear that England can be 



48 England spends nearly as much as France. [^^^^J^; 

supplied with all gross and bulky commodities of foreign 
growth and manufacture, at far cheaper rates than France 
can be, viz., at about 4s. per cent, cheaper : the land 
carriage for the difference of the distance between 
England and France from a port being so much, or 
near thereabouts. 

Now to what advantage this conveniency amounteth, 
upon the importation or exportation of bulky commodities, 
cannot be less than the labour of 1,000,000 of people : 
meaning by bulky commodities all sorts of timber, plank, 
and staves for caske : all iron, lead, stone, bricks, and 
tiles for building; all corn, salt, and drinks; all flesh 
and fish ; and indeed all other commodities wherein the 
gain and loss of 4s. per cent, is considerable : where 
note, that the like wines are sold in the inner parts of 
France for £^ or ^^5 a tun, which near the ports, yield 

Moreover, upon this principle, the decay of timber in 

tTmber^'^n En^ - England is no very formidable thing, as the 
land is no very rebuilding of London [after the Fire of 1666] 
maue'r!"' and of the ships wasted by the Dutch War 
[1665-7] do clearly manifest. 

Nor can there be any want of corn, or other necessary 
provisions in England ; unless the weather hath been 
universally unseasonable for the growth of the same, 
which seldom or never happens. For the same causes 
which make dearth in one place, do often cause plenty 
in another ; wet weather being propitious to high lands, 
which drowneth the low. 

It is observed that the poor in France have generally 
less wages than in England ; and yet their victuals 
are generally dearer there ; which being so, there may 
be more superlucration in England than in France. 

Lastly, I offer to the consideration of all those who 
have travelled through England and France, Whether the 
plebians of England, for they constitute the bulk of the 
The Kin? of nation, do not spend a sixth part more than the 
j>cifs"p^nd"''' plebians of France ? And if so, it is necessary 
^The KifTg^o'f *^^* ^^^y rnust first get it : and consequently 
Frances. that 10,000,000 of thc King of England's sub- 
jects are equivalent to 12,000,000 of the King of France ; 



^j^g"^:] Royal Magnificence not National Wealth. 49 

and, upon the whole matter, to the 13,000,000 at which 

the French nation was estimated. 
It will here be objected that the splendour and magni- 
ficences of the King of France appearing greater than those 
of England, the wealth of France must be proportionably 
greater than that of England. But that doth not The greater 
follow, forasmuch as the apparent greatness of the^King''o°f 
the King doth depend upon the quota pars of the tai^ar^m^ent 
people's wealth which he levieth from them. For of the greater 

•'•^. , , , ,,.-.- J, wealth of his 

supposing the people to be equally rich, 11 one 01 people. 
the sovereigns levy a Fifth part and the other a Fifteenth ; 
the one seems actually thrice as rich as the other : whereas, 
potentially, they are but equal. 



Having thus discoursed of the Territory, People, Super- 
lucration, and Defensibleness of both Dominions ; ^J"fP^gp°° °' 
and in some measure of their Trade so far as we Trade of 
had occasion to mention ships, shipping, and near- F^a^nM!^ ^°*^ 
ness to ports : we come, next, to enlarge a little further 
upon the Trade of each. 

Some have estimated that there are not above 
300,000,000 people in the whole world. Whether that 
be so, or not, is not very material to be known : but 
I have fair grounds to conjecture, and would be glad 
to know it more certainly, that there are not above 
80,000,000 with whom the English and Dutch have 
commerce ; no Europeans that I know of, trading 
directly or indirectly, where they do not. So that the 
Commercial World, or World of Trade, consisteth of 
about 80,000,000 souls as aforesaid. 

And I further estimate that the value of all commo- 
dities yearly exchanged amongst them doth not exceed 
the value of ;£'45,ooo,ooo [=;£'i35,ooo,ooo now]. 

Now the Wealth of every nation consisting chiefly in 
the share which they have in the Foreign Trade with the 
whole Commercial World, rather than in the Domestic 
trade of ordinary meat, drink, and clothes, &c., which 
bring in little gold, silver, jewels, and other Universal 



50 The Trade of the World in 1677. [^'''T-^fS: 

Wealth : we are to consider, Whether the subjects of 
the King of England, head for head, have not a greater 
share [in the Foreign Trade] than those of France ? 

To which purpose it hath been considered that 
the manufactures of wool yearly exported out of 
England into several parts of the world, viz. : all 
sorts of cloth, serges, stuffs, cottons, bayes, sayes, 
frieze, perpetuanas; as also stockings, caps, rugs, 
&c., exported out of England, Scotland, and Ireland, 
do amount unto ;^5, 000,000 [=;£'i5,ooo,ooo mow]. 

The value of lead, tin, and coals, to be ;^5oo,ooo 
[=jri, 500,000 now]. 

The value of all clothes, household stuff, &c., 
carried into America [i.e., the English Colonies there], 
jr20o,ooo [=;£'6oo,ooo now]. 

The value of silver and gold taken [in the way of 
trade] from the Spaniards, £60,000 [=:;^ 180,000 
now]. 

The value of sugar, indigo, tobacco, cotton, and 
cocoa, brought from the southward parts of America, 
£"600,000 [=;^i, 800,000 now]. 

The value of the fish, pipe staves, masts, beaver, 
&c., brought from New England and the northern 
parts of America, ^£"200,000 [=5^600,000 now]. 

The value of the wool, butter, hides, tallow, beef, 
herrings, pilchards, and salmon exported out of 
Ireland, £800,000 [=£2,400,000 now]. 

The value of the coals, salt, linen, yarn, herrings, 
pilchards, salmon, linen cloth, and yarn brought out of 
Scotland and Ireland, £500,000 [=£1,500,000 now]. 
The value of saltpetre, pepper, calicoes, diamonds, 
drugs, and silks brought out of the East Indies 
(above what was spent in England), £800,000 
[= £2,400,000 now]. 

The value of the slaves brought out of Africa, to 
serve in our America Plantations, £20,ooo[=£6o,ooo 
now]. 

Which with the Freight of English shipping trad- 
ing into foreign parts, being above £1,500,000 
f=;^4>5oo,ooo now], makes in all £10,180,000 
[=£30.540.000 now]. 



^'""T'^S-] Particulars of the English Trade. 51 

Which computation is sufficiently justified by the Customs 
of the three Kingdoms, whose intrinsic value is thought to be 
nearly ;£'i,ooo,ooo [=: £3, 000,000 now] per annum, viz.: 

;^6oo,ooo [=;£"i,8oo,ooo now] payable to the King. 
£100,000 [=: ^£'300, 000 now] for the charges of col- 
lecting, &c. 
£200,000 [= £600,000 now] smuckled [smuggled] by 

the merchants ; and 
£100,000 [= £300,000 now] gained by the Farmers. 



£1,000,000 



according to common opinion and men's sayings. 

And this agrees also with that proportion or part of the 
whole Trade of the World, which I have estimated the sub- 
jects of the King of England to be possessed of, viz., of about 
£10,000,000 of £45,000,000. 

But the value of the French commodities brought into Eng- 
land, notwithstanding some current estimates, is not above 
£1,200,000 [=£3,600,000 now] per annum ; and the value of 
all they export into all the world besides, not above three or 
four times as much : which computation also agreeth well 
enough with the account we have of the Customs of France. 

So as France not exporting above Half the value of what 
England doth ; and for that all the commodities of France 
— except wines, brandy, paper ; and the first patterns and 
fa^ions of clothes and furniture (of which France is the 
mint) — are imitable by the English ; and having withal more 
people than England : it follows that the people of England, 
&c., have, head for head. Thrice as much Foreign Trade as 
the people of France, and about Two parts out of Nine of 
the Trade of the whole Commercial World : and about Two 
parts in Seven of all the Shipping. 

Notwithstanding all which, it is not to be denied, that the 
King and some Great Men of France appear more rich and 
splendid than those of the like Quality in England : all which 
arises rather from the nature of their Government, than 
from the intrinsic and natural causes of wealth and power. 




52 Two Pan- English Grand Councils. [^'"T^fe",: 



CHAPTER V. 

That the impediments of England's greatness are but contingent 
and removeable. 

He first Impediment of England's greatness is that 
the territories thereunto belonging, are The disunion 
too far asunder, and divided by the sea °orits J/"'" 
into many several islands and countries; ,^"^e'd"menf"of 
and, I may say, into so many Kingdoms and its greatness. 
several Governments, viz.: 

There be three distinct Legislative Powers in England, 
The different Scotland, Ireland ; the which instead of uniting 
ii^oth'e^r'"'^^' together, do often cross one another's Interest, put- 
impediment. ting bars and impediments upon one another's 
trades, not only as if they were foreigners to each other, but 
sometimes as enemies. 

2. The islands of Jersey and Guernsey, and the Isle of Man 
are under jurisdictions different from those, either of England, 
Scotland, or Ireland. 

3. The Government of New England, both Civil and 
The Colonies Ecclcsiastical, doth so differ from that of His 

belonging to... ita •• 1 ••1 1 

England, a Majcsty s Other Dommions, that it is hard to say, 
the'Empire. ° what may be the consequence of it. 

And the Government of the other Plantations doth also 
differ very much from any of the rest ; although there be 
not, naturally, substantial reasons, from the situation, trade, 
and condition of the people, why there should be such 
differences. 

From all which, it comes to pass that small divided 
remote Governments, being seldom able to defend themselves, 
the burden of protecting of them all, must lie upon the Chief 
Kingdom, England : and so all the smaller kingdoms and 
dominions, instead of being additions, are really diminutions. 

But the same is remedied by making Two such Grand 
Councils as may equally represent the whole Empire : one 
to be chosen by the King, the other by the People. 

The wealth of a King is threefold. One is the Wealth of 
his subjects. The second is the Quota pars of his subjects' 
wealth, given him for the public defence, honour, and orna- 



^"^■^iIJaJ How Impediments of Disunion work. 53 

ment of the people, and to manage such undertaking for the 
common good, as no one, or a few private men are sufficient 
for. The third sort is the Quota of the last-mentioned Quota 
pars, which the King may dispose of, as his own personal 
inclination and discretion shall direct him, without account. 

Now it is most manifest, that the afore-mentioned distances 
and differences of kingdoms and jurisdictions are great im- 
pediments to all the said several sorts of wealth, as may be 
seen in the following particulars. 

First, in case of war with foreign nations, England 
commonly beareth the whole burden and charge : where- 
by many in England are utterly undone. 
Secondly, England sometimes prohibiting the commodities 
of Ireland and Scotland (as, of late, it did the cattle, 
flesh, and fish of Ireland), did not only make food, and 
consequently labour, dearer in England : but also hath 
forced the people of Ireland to fetch those commodities 
from France, Holland, and other places, which before 
were sold them from England ; to the great prejudice of 
both nations. 
Thirdly, it occasions an unnecessary trouble and charge in 
collecting of Customs upon commodities passing between 
the several nations. 
Fourthly, it is a damage to our Barbadoes and other 
American trades, that the goods which might pass 
thence immediately to several parts of the world, and 
to be sold at moderate rates ; must first come into 
England, and there pay duties : and afterwards, if at all, 
pass into those countries, whither they might have gone 
immediately. 
Fifthly, the islands of Jersey and Guernsey are protected 
at the charge of England : nevertheless the labour and 
industry of that people, which is very great, redounds 
most to the profit of the French. 
Sixthly, in New England, there are vast numbers of able- 
bodied Englishmen employed chiefly in husbandry ; 
and in the meanest part of it, which is breeding of 
cattle : whereas Ireland would have contained all those 
persons, and, at worst, would have afforded them lands 
CD better terms than they have them in America, if not 
some other better trade withal than now they can have. 



54 Other kinds of National lMPEDiMENTS.[^"'y--^,^6j^; 

Seventh!}', the inhabitants of the other Plantations although 
they do indeed plant commodities which will not grow 
so well in England ; yet grasping at more land than will 
suffice to produce the said exotics in a sufficient quantity 
to serve the whole World, they do therein but distract 
and confound the effect of their own endeavours. 
Eighthly, there is no doubt that the same people far and 
widely dispersed, must spend more upon their Govern- 
ment and protection, than the same living compactly, 
and when they have no occasion to depend upon the 
wind, weather, and all the accidents of the sea. 
A second impediment to the greatness of England is the 
The different different understanding of several material points, 
i'n'^o?Pr"ero- '^^^•) of ^^c King's Prerogative, Privileges of Par- 
gative, and Hamcnt, the obscure differences between Law and 
Paru^ent°; Equity, as also between Civil and Ecclesiastical Juris- 
Equity Tavii dictions, doubts whether the Kingdom of England 
and Ecciesias- hath powcr ovcr the Kingdom of Ireland : besides 

tical [Juris- iri 1 i t~>i'i 

dictions] ; the the wonderful paradox, that Englishmen lawfully 
LeguStureof scnt to supprcss rebellions in Ireland, should, after 
Ireland, &c. having effected the same, be as it were disfran- 
chised, and lose that Interest in the Legislative Power which 
they had in England ; and pay Customs as foreigners for 
all they spend in Ireland, whither they were sent for the 
honour and benefit of England. 

The third impediment is, that Ireland being a conquered 
Want of country, and containing not the Tenth part as 

foTwa!it^o"'°"' many Irish natives as there are English in both 
t^nspilma^ kingdoms ; that natural and firm Union is not 
tion. made between the two peoples by transplantations 

and proportionable mixture, so as there may be but a Tenth 
part of the Irish in Ireland, and the same proportion in 
England : whereby the necessity of maintaining an army in 
Ireland at the expense of the quarter of all the rents of that 
kingdom may be taken away. 

The fourth impediment is, that taxes in England are not 
The unequal levicd upon thc Expense, but upon the whole Estate; 
me^h^'^'"' not upon Lands, Stock, and Labour, but chieliy upon 
taxing. land alone : and that not by any equal and indif- 

ferent standard, but the casual predominancy of Parties and 
factions. And moreover that these taxes are not levied with 



"""T'^Sz-] Half the taxes Lost in The collecting. 55 

the least trouble and charge, but are let out to Farmers ; 
who also let them from one to another, without explicit 
knowledge of what they do : but so as in conclusion, the 
poor people pay twice as much as the King receives. 

The fifth impediment is the inequality of shires, dioceses, 
parishes, church-livings, and other precincts; as inequality of 
also [ofj the Representation of the people in Parlia- cesett'parfshes, 
ment : all which do hinder the operations of Autho- of^g^HaS 
rity in the same manner as a wheel irregularly &c. 
made and excentrically hung, neither moves so easily, nor 
performs its work so truly, as if the same were duly framed 
and poised. 

Sixthly, as to whether it be an impediment that the Power 
of Making War, and Raising Money be not in the same hand ? 
much may be said. But I leave it to those who may more 
properly meddle with fundamental laws. 

None of these impediments are natural : but have arisen, 
as the irregularity of buildings do, by being built a part at 
one time and a part at another ; and by the changing of the 
state of things from what they were at the respective times 
when the practices we complain of were first admitted ; and 
perhaps are but the warpings of time from the rectitude of 
the first institution. 

As these impediments are contingent, so they are also 
removable. 

For may not the land of superfluous territories be sold, 
and the people, with their movables, brought away? May 
not the English in the American Plantations, who plant 
tobacco, sugar, &c., compute what land will serve their turn, 
and then contract their habitation to that proportion, both 
for quantity and quality ? As for the people of New England, 
I can but wish they were transplanted into Old England or 
Ireland, according to Proposals of their own, made v/ithin 
these twenty years [1657-1677] ; although they were allowed 
more Liberty of Conscience than they allow one another. 

May not the Three Kingdoms be United into One, and 
equally represented in Parliament ? May not the several 
species [races] of the King's subjects be equally mixed in 
their habitations ? Might not the parishes and other pre- 
cincts be better equalized? Might not Jurisdictions and 



56 Increase of English territory i637-77.p7-^f^Jy: 

other pretences [claims] to Power be determined and ascer- 
tained ? Might not the taxes be equally applotted, and 
directly applied to their ultimate use ? Might not Dissenters 
in religion be indulged ; they paying for a competent force 
to keep the public peace ? 

I humbly venture to say all these things may be done, if 
it be so thought tit by the Sovereign Power; because the like 
hath often been done already, at several places and times. 



CHAPTER VI. 

That the power and wealth of England hath increased this 
last forty years. 



T IS not much to be doubted but that the Territo- 
ries under the King's dominion have in- Manytem- 
creased : forasmuch as New Engand, Vir- b°een\ddS 
ginia, Barbadoes, and Jamaica, Tangier, '^ij^S<f„t 
and Bombay, have, since that time, been either forty years; 

111 TT- n r • , ^ , • , • • 1 and many 

added to His Majesty s territories, or improved improvements 
from a desert condition, to abound with people, '"'"^^' 
buildings, shipping, and the production of many useful 
commodities. 

And as for the land of England, Scotland, and Ireland, as 
it is not less in quantity than it was forty years ago, so it is 
manifest that, by reason of the draining of the fens, watering 
of dry grounds, improving of forests and commons, making 
of heathy and barren grounds to bear sainfoin and clover 
grass, [a]meliorating and multiplying several sorts of fruit 
and garden stuff, making some rivers navigable, &c. ; I say, 
it is manifest that the land in its present condition is able to 
bear more provisions and commodities than it was forty years 
ago. 

Secondly, although the People of England, Scotland, and 
Ireland, which have extraordinarily perished, by the Plague 
and Sword, within these last forty years, do amount to about 
300,000 above what [v/ould] have died in the ordinary way : 
yet the ordinary increase by generation of 10,000,000, which 
doubles in 200 years, as hath been shewn by the Observators 
upon the Bills of Mortality, may, in forty years, which is a 



^'"f-^^el]:] Increase of Houses, and Shipping. 57 

fifth part of the same time, have increased one-fifth part of 
the whole number, or 2,000,000. 

Where note by the way, that the accession of Negroes to 
the American Plantations, being all men of great labour and 
little expense, is not inconsiderable. Besides, it is hoped 
that New England (where few or no women are barren, and 
most have many children ; and where people live long and 
healthfully) hath produced an increase of as many people as 
were destroyed in the late tumults in Ireland. 

As for Housing, the streets of London itself speaks it. 
I conceive it is double in value in that city to what The Housing 
it was forty years since. And for Housing in the doubkdTn 
country, it has increased at Newcastle, Yarmouth, value. 
Norwich, Exeter, Portsmouth, Cowes ; Dublin, Kinsale, 
Londonderry and Coleraine in Ireland, far beyond the pro- 
portion of what I can learn has been dilapidated in other 
places. For in Ireland, where the ruin was greatest, the 
Housing, taking all together, is now more valuable than forty 
years ago. Nor is this to be doubted : since Housing is now 
more splendid than in those days; and the number of dwellers 
is increased by nearly one-fifth part ; as in the last paragraph 
is set forth. 

As for Shipping, His Majesty's Navy is now triple or 
quadruple to what it was forty years since, and T^^^ ^^Ht^ 
before the Sovereign was built. increased ; 

The shipping trading to Newcastle, which is now sons thereof?^' 
80,000 tons, could not be then above a quarter of that quantity. 

1. Because the City of London is doubled. 

2. Because the use of coals is also at least doubled : 
because they were heretofore seldom used in chambers 
as now they are ; nor were there so many bricks burned 
[baked] with them, as of late; nor did the country on 
both sides the Thames make use of them as now. 

Besides, there are employed in Guinea [i.e., the slave dealing] 
and American trade, above 40,000 tons of shipping ^cr annum ; 
which trade in those days was inconsiderable. 

The quantity of wines was not nearly so much as now, and, 
to be short, the Customs upon imported and exported com- 
modities did not then yield a third part of the present value: 
which shews that not only Shipping, but Trade itself hath 
increased somewhat near that proportion. 



58 The wages of a Labourer in 1677. p'T'^iS' 

As to Money, the interest thereof was, within these fifty 
Interest of vears, at /lo per cent. : forty years asfo, at /8 : and 

money abated ^ j. r£: *l, 1 *- 1 1, • U U 

nearly half. now, at £0 : no thanks to any laws which have 
been made to that purpose ! forasmuch as those who can give 
good security, may now have it at less. But the natural fall 
of interest is the effect of the increase of money. 

Moreover if rented lands and houses have increased, and if 
Moneyand trade hath increased also : it is certain that money, 
nue increllld. which paycth thosc rents and driveth on trade, 
must have increased also. 

Lastly, I leave it to the consideration of all observers, 
whether the number and splendour of Coaches, Equipage, and 
Household Furniture hath not increased since that time : to 
say nothing of the Postage of Letters, which has increased 
from One to Twenty ; which argues the increase of business 
and negotiation. 

I might add that His Majesty's Revenue is nearly tripled ; 
and therefore the means to pay, and bear the same, have 
increased also. 

CHAPTER VII. 

That One-Tenth part of the Whole Expense of the King of 
England's subjects is sufficient to maintain 100,000 Foot, 40,000 
Horse, and 40,000 seamen at sea ; and to defray all other charges 
of the Government, both ordinary and extraordinary, if the same 
were regularly taxed and raised. 




CLEAR this point, we are to find out, What is the 
middle expense of each head in the King's ^"^f'??'''^^^ 

T\ • • ^ 11-1 11 the Medium of 

Dommions, between the highest and the Expenseof 
lowest ? To which I say, it is not probably England. 
less than the expense of a Labourer, who earneth about 8^. 
[=-2s.now] a day. For the wages of such a man is 45. [ = i2s. 
now] per week without victuals, or 2s. [=6s. now] with them : 
where the value of his victuals is 2s. [=6s. now] or ^^5 4s. 
L=;^i5 I2S. now] per annum. 

Now the value of clothes cannot be less than the wages 
given to the poorest maidservant in the country ; which is 
305- [=;^4 los. now] per annum. Nor can the charge of all 
other necessaries be less than 6s. [=i8s. noiv] per annum more. 



SirW, 



^,^677;] Average English expense, per head, ^7. 59 



Wherefore the whole charge is £"] [=^21 now\. 

It is not likely that this Discourse will fall into the hands 
of any that live at £"] per annum : and therefore such \ix., as 
read it] will wonder at this supposition. But if they consider 
how much the number of the poor and their children is 
greater than that of the rich ; although the personal 
expense of some rich men should be twenty times more than 
that of a labourer : yet the expense of the labourer above 
mentioned may well enough stand for the Standard of the 
expense of the whole mass of mankind. 

Now if the expense of each man, one with another, be £y 
per annum, and if the number of the King's subjects be 
10,000,000 ; then the tenth part of the whole expense will be 
;£'7,ooo,ooo [=£"21,000,000 Moze*]. 

But about ;^5,ooo,ooo, or a very little more, will amount to 
one year's pay for 100,000 Foot, 40,000 Horse, and 40,000 
men at sea : winter and summer; which can rarely be 
necessary ! 

And the ordinary Charge of Government, in times of deep 
and serene peace, was not about ^£"600,000 [or ^^1,800,000 
now] per anmim. 

Where a people thrive, there the Income is greater than 
the Expense ; and consequently the tenth part of the expense 
is not a tenth part of the income. Now for men to pay a 
tenth of their expense in a time of the greatest exigency 
(for such it must be, when so great forces are requisite) can 
be no hardship, much less a deplorable condition. For to 
bear a tenth part, a man need spend but a twentieth part 
less, and labour a twentieth part more (or half an honv per 
diem extraordinary) ; both of which, within common experi- 
ence, are very tolerable : there being very few in England 
who do not eat by a twentieth part more than does them 
good ; and what misery were it, instead of wearing cloth of 
20S. per yard, to be contented with that of igs., few men 
having skill enough to discern the difference. 

Memorandum. That all this while I suppose that all o^ 
these 10,000,000 of people are obedient to their Sovereign, 
and within the reach of his power : for as things are otherwise, 
so the calculation must be varied. 




6o Capital ;^30,ooo,ooo, Labour ^40,000,000. [^'^ Y' ^.IJy! 



CHAPTER VIII. 

That there are spare hands enough, among the King oj 
England's subjects, to earn 3^2,000,000 per annum more than 
they now do ; and that there are also employments ready, proper, 
and sufficient for that purpose. 

PROVE this point, we must inquire, How much all 
the people could earn, if they were disposed or 
necessitated to labour, and, had work where- 
upon to employ themselves ? and compare that 
sum with that of the total Expense above mentioned; deduct- 
ing the rents and proiits of land and stock [capital], which, 
properly speaking, saveth so much labour. 

Now the proceeds of the said lands and stock in the 
Countries [counties] is about Three parts of Seven of the 
whole expense. So as where the expense is ;i^7o,ooo,ooo the 
rent of the land, and the profit of all personal estate, interest 
of money, &c., must be about ;£'30,ooo,ooo [^i^'go, 000,000 
now] , and consequently the value of the Labour, 3^40,000,000 
[=3^120,000,000 now] , that is 3^4 [=^12 now] per head. 

But it is to be noted that about a Quarter of the mass of 
mankind are children, male and female, under seven years 
old : from whom little labour is to be expected. 

It is also to be noted that about another Tenth part of the 
whole people are such as, by reason of their great estates, 
titles, dignities. Offices and Professions, are exempt from that 
kind of labour we now speak of: their business being, or 
ought to be, to govern, regulate, and direct the labours and 
actions of others. 

So that of 10,000,000, there may be about 6,500,000 which, 
if need require, might actually labour. 

And of these, some might earn 3s. [=95. now] a week, 
some 5s. [=155. now], and some 7s. [=2is.] : that is, all of 
them : might earn 55. per week, at a medium, one with 
another; or at least ;£'io [=3^30 now] per annum, allowing 
for sickness and other accidents. Whereby the whole might 
earn 3^65,000,000 [=3^195,000,000 now] per annum : that is 
£25,000,000 [=^£'j ^,000,000 now] more than the expense. 

The Author of The State of England says that the children 



^jg"^;] Building TRADE after the Fire of London. 6i 

of Norwich, between six and sixteen years old, do earn 
;fi2,ooo [=:;f36,ooo now] per annum more than they spend. 
Now forasmuch as the people of Norwich are a three- 
hundredth part of all the people of England [i.e., 20,000], as 
appears by the accounts of the Hearth Money ; and about a 
five-hundredth part of all the King's subjects throughout the 
world, it follows that all his Majesty's subjects between six and 
sixteen years old, might earn £5,000,000 [=£"15,000,000 now] 
per annum more than they spend. 

Again, forasmuch as the number of the people above 
sixteen years old, is double the number of those between six 
and sixteen ; and that each of the men can earn double to 
each of the children : it is plain that if the men and children 
everywhere, did do as they do at Norwich, they might earn 
£25,000,000 [=£75,000,000 now] per annum more than they 
spend. Which Estimate grounded upon matter of fact and 
experience, agrees with the former. 

Although, as hath been proved, the people of England do 
thrive ; and that it is possible they might superlucrate 
£25,000,000 per annmn ; yet it is manifest that they do not ; 
nor £23,000,000, which is less by the £2,000,000 herein 
meant. 

For if they did superlucrate £23,000,000, then in about 
five or six years' time, the whole Stock and Personal Estate 
of the nation would be doubled : which I wish were true ; 
but find no manner of reason to believe. 

Wherefore if they can superlucrate £25,000,000 ; but do 
not actually superlucrate £23,000,000, nor £20,000,000, nor 
£10,000,000, nor perhaps £5,000,000 : I have proved what was 
propounded, viz., that there are spare hands among the 
King's subjects to earn £2,000,000 more than they do. 

But to speak a little more particularly concerning this 
matter. It is to be noted that since the Fire of London, 
there was earned, in four years [1666-1670] by tradesmen 
[artisans] relating to building only, the sum of £4,000,000 
[=£12,000,000 now], viz., £1,000,000 per annum: without 
lessening any other sort of work, labour or manufacture, 
which was usually done in any other four years before the 
said occasion. 

But if the tradesmen relating to building only, and such 
of them only as wrought in and about London, could do 



62 Native production of foreign imports. [^^^'^ilSy." 

;^i, 000,000 worth of work extraordinary ; I think that from 
thence, and from what hath been said before, all the rest of 
the spare hands might very well double the same : which is 
as much as was propounded. 

Now if there were spare hands to superlucrate millions 
upon millions, they signify nothing, unless there were 
employment for them ; and may as well follow their pleasures 
and speculations, as labour to no purpose. Therefore the 
more material point is to prove that there is ;£"2, 000,000 
worth of work to be done ; which at present, the King's 
subjects do neglect. 

For the proof of this, there needs little more to be done, 
than to compute. 

1. How much money is paid by the King of England's 
subjects, to foreigners for freights of shipping ? 

2. How much the Hollanders gain by their fishing trade 
practised upon our seas ? 

3. What is the value of all the commodities imported into 
and spent in England : which might, by diligence, be 
produced and manufactured here. 

To make short of this matter, upon perusal of the most 
authentic accounts relating to these several particulars, 
I affirm that the same amounteth to above ^^5, 000,000 
[=;£'i5,ooo,ooo now] : whereas I propounded but £2,000,000. 

For a further proof whereof, Mr. Samuel Fortry, in his 
ingenious Discourse of Trade [1673] exhibits the particulars 
[details] : wherein it appears that the goods imported out of 
France only, amount yearly to ;^2, 600,000 [=;£'7,8oo,ooo now]. 
And I affirm that the wine, paper, cork, rosin, capers, and a 
few other commodities which England cannot produce, do 
not amount to one-fifth part of the said sum. 

From whence it follows, that, if Mr. Fortry hath not 
erred, the ^£2, 000,000 here mentioned, may arise from France 
alone ; and consequently ;;^5, 000,000 or ^6,000,000 from all 
three heads last above specified. 




^" 1' ^ilJ^QCoiNAGE AT THE RESTORATION, ^6,000,000. 6^ 

CHAPTER IX. 

That there is sufficient Money to drive the Trade of the nation. 

Ince His Majesty's happy Restoration, it was 
thought fit to call in, and new coin, the money 
which was made in the times of Usurpation 
[Commonwealth]. Now it was observed, by the 
general consent of Cashiers [Goldsmiths or money changers'], 
that the said money, being by frequent revolutions [circula- 
tions] well mixed with old, was about a Seventh part 
thereof; and that the said [Commonwealth] money being 
called in, was about ;^8oo,ooo ; and consequently the whole 
[coinage was about] ;£'5, 600,000. Whereby it is probable, that, 
some allowance being given for hoarded money, the whole 
Cash of England was then about ;£'6,ooo,ooo : which I con- 
ceive is sufficient to drive the Trade of England : not doubting 
but the rest of His Majesty's Dominions have the like means 
to do the same respectively. 

If there be 6,000,000 souls in England, and that each 
spendeth £'j per annum, then the whole expense is ^^42, 000, 000 
or about ;£'8oo,ooo per week : and consequently if every man 
did pay his expense weekly, and that the money could circulate 
within the compass of a week, then less than ;£"!, 000,000 
would answer the ends proposed. 

But forasmuch as the rents of the lands in England, which 
are paid half yearly, are ;£"8,ooo,ooo [=£"24,000,000 now] per 
annum ; there must be ;£'4,ooo,ooo [iji coin ; Bank of England 
notes and cheques not having yet been invented] to pay them. 

And forasmuch as the rents of the Housing of England, 
paid quarterly, are worth about ;£4, 000,000 [=;£i2, 000,000 
now] per annum; there needs but £1,000,000 to pay the said 
rents. 

Wherefore ;£'6,ooo,ooo being enough to make good tha 
three sorts of circulations above mentioned : I conceive what 
was proposed, is competently proved : at least, until some- 
thing better be held forth to the contrary. 




64 Gentry putting younger sons to Trade, l^'" J- ^^^^j. 



CHAPTER X. 

That the King of England's subjects have Stock [capital] 
competent and convenient to drive the Trade of the whole Com- 
mercial World. 

]0w for the further encouragement of Trade, as we 
have shewn that there is money enough in 
England to manage the affairs thereof, so we 
shall now offer to consideration, Whether there be 
not a competent and convenient Stock to drive the Trade of 
the whole Commercial World ? 

To which purpose, it is to be remembered that all the 
Commodities yearly exported out of every part of the last- 
mentioned World, may be bought for ,^45, 000,000 ; and that 
the Shipping employed in the same World are not worth 
above £"15,000,000 more, and consequently that -£"60,000,000 
[=£180,000,000 now] at most would drive the whole Trade 
above mentioned, without any trust at all. 

But forasmuch as the growers of commodities do commonly 
trust them to such merchants or factors as are worth but 
such part of the full value of their commodities as may 
possibly be lost upon the sale of them ; whereas gain is 
rather to be expected : it follows that less than a Stock of 
£60,000,000 ; nay, less than half that sum is sufficient to 
drive the Trade above mentioned. It being well known that 
any tradesman of good reputation, worth £500, will be trusted 
with above £1,000 worth of commodities. 

Wherefore less than £30,000,000 will suffice for the said 
purpose: of which sum, the Coin, Shipping, and Stock already 
in the Trade, do at least make one-half. 

And it hath been shewn \at p. 23] how, by the policy of a 
Bank [of which not one existed in Ejigland at the time this was 
written], any sum of money may be equivalent in Trade unto 
nearly double the same : by all which it seems that, even 
at present, much is not wanting to perform what is pro- 
pounded. 

But suppose £20,000,000 or more were wanting, it is not 
improbable that since the generality of Gentlemen, and some 
Noblemen do put their younger sons to merchandise, they 



^^T'^il??:] Landed income, ^8,000,000 in 1677. 65 

will see it reasonable, as they increase in the number of 
merchants, so to increase the magnitude of Trade, and 
consequently to increase Stock. Which may effectually be 
done by inbanking ^^20, 000,000 worth of land (not being 
above a Sixth or Seventh of the whole territory of England) 
that is to say, by making a Fond [fund] of such value to be 
security for all commodities bought and sold upon the 
account of the Universal Trade here mentioned [40 years 
after this was written, the Landed Interest somewhat attempted 
this suggestion, in the foundation of the South Sea Company]. 

And thus, it having appeared that England having in it, 
as much land like Holland and Zealand, as the said two 
Provinces do themselves contain ; with abundance of other 
land, not inconvenient for trade ; and that there are spare 
hands enough, to earn many millions of money more than 
they now do ; and that there is employment to earn several 
millions, even from the consumption of England itself: it 
follows from thence, and from what hath been said in the 
last paragraph about enlarging of Stock, both of money and 
land, that it is not impossible, nay, a very feasible matter 
for the King of England's subjects to gain the Universal 
Trade of the whole Commercial World. 

Nor is it unseasonable to intimate this matter. Foras- 
much as the younger brothers of the good families of England 
cannot otherwise be provided for, so as to live according to 
their birth and breeding. 

For if the Lands of England are worth ,^8, 000,000 per 
annum, there be, at a medium, about 10,000 families of 
about £800 [£^2,400, now] per annum : in each of which, one 
with another, we may suppose there is a younger brother, 
whom less than ;^200 or £300 [=^^600 or ;£'900 now] per 
annum, will not maintain suitable to his relations. 

Now I say that neither the Offices at Court, nor Commands 
in our ordinary army and navy, nor Church preferments, nor 
the usual gains by the Profession of the Law or of Physic, 
nor the employments under Noblemen and Prelates, will, all 
of them put together, furnish livelihoods of above £300 per 
anmim to 3,000 of the said 10,000 younger brothers : where- 
fore it rem.ains that Trade alone must supply the rest. 

But if the said 7,000 Gentlemen be applied to Trade, with- 

B 3 



66 Unity, Industry, and Obedience. pT'^ilJl* 

out increasing of Trade; or if we hope to increase Trade, 
without increasing of Stock (which, for ought appears, is only 
to be done by imbanking a due proportion of Lands and 
Mone}') ; we must necessarily be disappointed. 

Where note, that selling of lands to foreigners for gold and 
silver, would enlarge the Stock of the Kingdom : whereas 
doing the same between one another, doth effect nothing. 
For he that turneth all his land into money, disposes himself 
for trade ; and he that parteth with his money for land, doth 
the contrary : but to sell land to foreigners, increaseth both 
money and people, and consequently trade. 

Wherefore it is to be thought that when the laws denying 
strangers to purchase, and not permitting them to trade 
without paying extraordinary duties, were made ; that then 
the public state of things and Interest of the nation were far 
different from what they now are. 



Having banc ^d these Ten principal Conclusions, I might 
go on with othei j ad infinitum. But what hath been already 
said, I look upon as sufficient, for to shew what I mean by 
Political Arithmetic : and to shew 

1. The uses of knowing the True State of the People, Land, 
Stock, Trade, &c. 

2. That the King's subjects are not in so bad a condition 
as discontented men would make them. 

3. The great effect of Unity, Industry, and Obedience in 
order to the common safety and each man's peculiar 
happiness. 

FINIS, 




A 



n 




e 



to 



Honour and Justice. 

though it be of 

his worst Enemies. 



By DANIEL DE FOE. 

Being 

a true Account of his Conduct 

in Public Affairs. 

Jerem. xviii. i8. 

Come, and let us smite him with the tongue, and let us not give 

heed to any of his words. 

L O ND O N: 

Printed for J. Baker, at the Black Boy^ in 
Paternoster row. i 7 i 5 . 



69 



An 



A p p e a I 




to 

Honour and yustice^ ^c, 

Hope the Time is come at last, when the voice 
of Moderate Principles may be heard. Hither- 
to, the noise has been so great, and the preju- 
dices and passions of men so strong, that it 
had been but in vain to offer at any argument, 
or for any man to talk of giving a reason for 
his actions. And this alone has been the 
cause why, when othermen (who, I think, have 
less to say in their own defence) are appealing to the 
public, and struggling to defend themselves ; I, alone, have 
been silent, under the infinite clamours and reproaches, 
causeless curses, unusual threatenings, and the most unjust 
and injurious treatment in the world. 

I hear much of people's calling out to Punish the Guilty ! 
but very few are concerned to Clear the Innocent ! I hope 
some will be inclined to judge impartially; and have yet 
reserved so much of the Christian as to believe, and at least 
to hope, that a rational creature cannot abandon himself so 
as to act without some reason : and are willing not only to 
have me defend myself; but to be able to answer for me, 
where they hear me causelessly insulted by others, and 
therefore are willing to have such just Arguments put into 
their mouths, as the cause will bear. 

As for those who are prepossessed, and according to the 
modern justice of Parties are resolved to be so, let them go ! 
I am not arguing with them, but against them ! They act so 
contrary to Justice, to Reason, to Religion, so contrary to 
the rules of Christians and of good manners, that they are 



70 Reasons for publishing this Appeal, [i^v^"}"'; 

not to be argued with, but to be exposed or entirely neglected. 
I have a receipt against all the uneasiness which it may be 
supposed to give me ; and that is, to contemn slander, and to 
think it not worth the least concern. Neither should I think 
it worth while to give any answer to it, if it were not on 
some other accounts, of which I shall speak as I go on. 

If any man ask me. Why I am in such haste to publish this 
matter at this time ? among many other good reasons which 
I could give, these are some : 

1. I think I have long enough been made fahula vulgi, 
and borne the weight of general slander ; and I should 
be wanting to truth, to my family, and to myself, if 
I did not give a fair and true state of my conduct, for 
impartial men to judge of, when I am no more in being, 
to answer for myself. 

2. By the hints of mortality, and by the infirmities of 
a Life of Sorrow and Fatigue, I have reason to think 
that I am not a great way off from, if not very near 
to, the great Ocean of Eternity ; and the time may 
not be long ere I embark on the last voyage. Where- 
fore I think, I should even accounts with this world, 
before I go : that no actions (slanders) may lie against 
my heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns, to 
disturb them in the peaceable possession of their 
father's inheritance (character), 

3. I fear (GOD grant I have not a second sight in it !) 
that this lucid interval of Temper and Moderation 
which shines, though dimly too, upon us at this time, 
will be but of short continuance : and that some men 
(who knownot how to use the advantage, GOD has put 
into their hands) with moderation, will push (in spite 
of the best Prince of the world) at such extravagant 
things, and act with such an intemperate forwardness, 
as will revive the Heats and Animosities, which wise 
and good men were in hopes should be allayed by the 
happy Accession of the King [George L] to the throne. 

It is, and ever was, my opinion that Moderation is the only 
virtue by which the peace and tranquility of this nation can 



i?oVy^iti4G Moderation alone will secure peace. 71 

be preserved. Even the King himself (I believe His Majesty 
will allow me that freedom !) can only be happy in the en- 
joyment of the crown by a Moderate Administration. If His 
Majesty should be obliged, contrary to his known disposition, 
to join with intemperate counsels ; if it does not lessen his 
security, I am persuaded it will lessen his satisfaction ! It 
cannot be pleasant or agreeable, and, I think, it cannot be 
safe to any just Prince to rule over a divided people, split 
into incensed and exasperated Parties. Though a skilful 
mariner may have courage to master a tempest, and goes 
fearless through a storm ; yet he can never be said to delight 
in the danger ! A fresh fair gale and a quiet sea are the 
pleasure of his vo3'age : and we have a saying worth notice, 
to them that are otherwise minded, Qtii amat periculum 
periibat in illo. 

To attain at the happy Calm, which, as I say, is the safety 
of Britain, is the question which should now move us all : 
and he would merit to be called the Nation's Physician that 
could prescribe the specific for it. I think I may be allowed 
to say, a Conquest of Parties will never do it! a Balance of 
Parties may I Some are for the former. They talk high 
of punishments ! letting blood ! revenging treatment they 
have met with ! and the like. If they, not knowing what 
spirit they are of, think this the course to be taken, let them 
try their hands ! I shall give them up for lost I and look 
for their downfall from that time. For the ruin of all such 
tempers slumbereth not ! 

It is many years that I have professed myself an enemy to 
all Precipitations in Public Administrations ; and often I have 
attempted to shew that Hot Counsels haveever been destruc- 
tive to those who have made use of them. Indeed, they have 
not always been a disadvantage to the nation. As in King 
James II. 's reign : where, as I have often said in print, his 
precipitation was the safety of us all; and if he had proceeded 
temperately and politicly, we had been undone. Fcelix quern 
faciunt. But these things have been spoken, when your 
ferment has been too high for anything to be heard. Whether 
you will hear it now or not, I know not ! and therefore it was 
that I said, I fear the present Cessation of Party Arms will 
not hold long. 

These are some of the reasons, why I think this is a proper 



'J2 Inducements to Defoe to go to Cadiz. [n°ov°i'7I4: 

juncture for me to give some account of myself and of my 
past conduct to the world ; and that I may do this as 
effectually as I can (being, perhaps, never more to speak 
from the Press), I shall, as concisely as I can, give an 
Abridgement of my own History, during the few unhappy 
years I have employed myself, or been employed in Public in 
the World. 



Misfortunes in business having unhinged me from matters 
of trade, it was about the year 1694, that I was invited (by 
some merchants with whom I had corresponded abroad, and 
some also at home) to settle at Cadi^ in Spain ; and that, 
with offers of very good commissions : but Providence, which 
had other work for me to do, placed a secret aversion in my 
mind to quitting England upon any account ; and made me 
refuse the best offers of that kind, to be concerned with some 
Eminent Persons at home, in proposing Ways and Means to 
the Government, for raising money to supply the occasions 
of the war then newly begun. 

Some time after this, I was (without the least application 
of mine, and being then seventy miles from London) sent 
for, to be Accountant to the *' Commissioners of the Glass 
Duty " : in which service I continued, to the determination 
of their commission [in 1699]. 

During this time [or rather somewhat later , on 1st August 
1700], there came out a vile, abhorred pamphlet, in very ill 
verse, written by one Mr. Tutchin, called The Foreigners : in 
which the Author (who he was, I then knew not !) fell 
personally upon the King himself, and then upon the Dutch 
nation ; and after having reproached His Majesty with 
crimes that his worst enemy could not think of without 
horror, he sums up all in the odious name of " Foreigner ! " 

This filled me with a kind of rage against the book ; and 
gave birth to a trifle which I never could hope should have 
met with so general an acceptation as it did. I mean The 
True Born Englishman [which appeared in January, 1701% 

How this poem was the occasion of my being known to 
His Majesty [William III.] ; how I was afterwards received 
by him ; how employed ; and how (above my capacity of 
deserving) rewarded ; is no part of this present Case : and is 



Noy^ijui] Defoe in the service of William II L y^ 

only mentioned here, as I take all occasions to do, for the 
expressing of the honour I ever preserved for the immortal 
and glorious memory of that greatest and best of Princes ; 
whom it was my honour and advantage to call Master as well 
as Sovereign ! whose goodness to me I never forgot, neither 
can forget ! whose memory I never patiently heard abused, 
nor ever can do so ! and who, had he lived, would never have 
suffered me to be treated, as I have been in the World ! 

But Heaven, for our sins, removed him, in judgement. 
How far the treatment he met with from the nation he came 
to save, and whose deliverance he finished, was admitted by 
Heaven to be a means of his death ; I desire to forget, for 
their sakes, who are guilty. And if this calls any of it to 
mind, it is mentioned to move them to treat him better who 
is now, with like principles of goodness and clemency, ap- 
pointed by GOD and the Constitution, to be their Sovereign : 
lest He that protects righteous Princes, avenge the injuries 
they receive from an ungrateful people ! by giving them up 
to the confusions, their madness leads them to. 



And in their just acclamations at the happy Accession of 
His present Majesty [GEORGE L] to the throne, I cannot 
but advise them to look back, and call to mind, Who it was, 
that first guided them to the Family of Hanover, and to 
pass by all the Popish branches of Orleans and Savoy ? 
recognizing the just authority of Parliament, in the undoubted 
Right of Limiting the Succession, and establishing that 
glorious Maxim of our Settlement, viz.. That it is inconsistent 
with the Constitution of this Protestant Kingdom to be governed 
by a Popish Prince. I say, let them call to mind, Who it was 
that guided their thoughts first to the Protestant race of our 
own Kings, in the House of Hanover ? and that it is to King 
William, next to Heaven itself, to whom we owe the enjoying 
of a Protestant King at this time. 

I need not go back to the particulars of His Majesty's 
conduct in that affair, his journey in person to the country of 
Hanover, and the Court of Zell, his particular management 
of the affair afterwards at home, perfecting the design by 
naming the illustrious Family to the nation, and bringing 
about a Parliamentary Settlement to effect it; entailing 



74 Defoe never feared the Pretender. [N^o'v^fyu! 

thereby the Crown in so effectual a manner, as we see has 
been sufficient to prevent the worst designs of our Jacobite 
people in behalf of the Pretender. A Settlement, together 
with the subsequent Acts which followed it, and the Union 
with Scotland which made it unalterable, that gave a complete 
satisfaction to those who knew and understood it ; and re- 
moved those terrible apprehensions of the Pretender (which 
some entertained) from the minds of others, who were yet as 
zealous against him as it was possible for any to be. Upon 
this Settlement, as I shall shew presently, I grounded my 
opinion, which I often expressed, viz., That I did not see it 
possible, the Jacobites could ever set up their Idol here! and I think 
my opinion abundantly justified in the consequences: of which 
by-and-by. 

This digression, as a debt to the glorious memory of King 
William, I could not in justice omit : and as the reign of His 
present Majesty is esteemed happy, and looked upon as a 
blessing from heaven by us ; it will most necessarily lead us 
to bless the memory of King William, to whom we owe so 
much of it. How easily could His Majesty have led us to 
other branches, whose relation to the Crown might have had 
large pretences ? What Prince but would have submitted to 
have educated a successor of their race in the Protestant 
ReHgion, for the sake of such a Crown ! But the King, who 
had our happiness in view, and saw as far into it as any 
human sight could penetrate ; who knew we were not to be 
governed by inexperienced youths ; that the Protestant 
Religion was not to be established by Political Converts ; 
and that Princes under French influence or instructed in 
French politics, were not proper Instruments to preserve the 
Liberties of Britain : fixed his eyes upon the Family which 
now possesses the Crown, as not only having an undoubted 
relation to it by blood, but as being, first and principally, 
zealous and powerful assertors of the Protestant Religion and 
Interest against Popery ; and, secondly, stored with a visible 
succession of worthy and promising branches, who appeared 
equal to the weight of Government, qualified to fill a Throne, 
and guide a Nation, which (without any reflection) are not 
famed to be the most easy to rule in the world. 

Whether the consequence has been a credit to King 
William's judgemfnt, I need not say. I am not writing 



iKv^i*7M-l ^^^ ■^* Seymour's Party, the Hot Men. 75 

panegyrics here, but doing justice to the memory of the King 
my Master, who I have had the honour very often to hear 
express himself with great satisfaction in having brought the 
Settlement of the Succession to so good an issue : and to 
repeat His Majesty's own words, " That he knew no Prince 
in Europe so fit to be King of England, as the Elector of 
Hanover." I am persuaded, without any flattery, that if it 
should not every way answer the expectations His Majesty 
had of it, the fault will be our own! GOD grant the King 
to have more comfort of his Crown, than we suffered King 
William to have ! 

The King being dead, and the Queen [Anne] proclaimed; 
the Hot Men of that side (as Hot Men of all sides do) thinking 
the game in their own hands, and all other people under 
their feet — began to run out into all those mad extremes, and 
precipitate themselves into such measures, as, according to 
the fate of all intemperate counsels, ended in their own 
confusion, and threw them at last out of the saddle. 

The Queen (who, though willing to favour the High 
Church party, did not thereby design the ruin of those she 
did not employ) was soon alarmed at their wild conduct, and 
turned them out : adhering to the moderate counsels of those 
who better understood, or more faithfully pursued Her 
Majesty's and their country's Interest. 

In this turn, fell " Sir Edward Seymour's Party " ; for so 
the High Men were then called : and to this turn, we owe 
the conversion of several other Great Men ; who became 
Whigs upon that occasion, which it is known they were not 
before. Which conversion begat that unkind distinction of 
"Old Whig" and "Modern Whig"; which some of the 
former were, with very little justice, pleased to run up after- 
wards to an extreme very pernicious to both. 



But I am gone too far in this part. I return to my own 
story. In the interval of these things, and during the heat 
of the first fury of High Flying; I fell a sacrifice for writing 
against the rage and madness of that High Party, and in the 
service of the Dissenters, What justice I met with ! and 
above all, what mercy ! are too well known to need a 
repetition. 



76 Defoe's release, the Foundation of his conduct. 

This Introduction is made that it may bring me to what 
has been the Foundation of all my further concern in Public 
Affairs : and will produce a sufficient reason for my adhering 
to those, whose obligations upon me were too strong to be 
resisted ; even when many things were done by them, which 
I could not approve. And for this reason it is, that I think 
it is necessary to distinguish how far I did or did not adhere 
to, or join in or with the Persons or Conduct of the late 
Government [i.e., of Lord Oxford's Administration, 1710- 
1714] : and those who are willing to judge with impartiality 
and charity, will see reason to use me more tenderly in their 
thoughts, when they weigh the particulars. 

I will make no reflections upon the treatment I met with 
from the people / suffered fori or how I was abandoned, even 
in my sufferings, at the same time that they acknowledged the 
service it had been to their cause. 

But I must mention it, to let you know, that while I lay 
friendless and distressed in the prison of Newgate, my famil}' 
ruined, and myself without hope of deliverance ; a message 
was brought [in May, 1704] me from a Person of Honour 
[Robert Harley, afterwards Lord Oxford], with whom, till 
that time, I had never had the least acquaintance or know- 
ledge of, other than by fame, or by sight as we know Men 
of Quality by seeing them on public occasions. I gave no 
present [immediate] answer to the person who brought it, 
having not duly weighed the import of the message : which 
was by word of mouth thus, " Pray ask that Gentleman, 
what I can do for him ? " 

But in return to this kind and generous message, I 
immediately took my pen and ink, and wrote the story of the 
blind man in the Gospel who followed our Saviour, and to 
whom our blessed LORD put the question, " What wilt thou, 
that I should do unto thee ? " who, as if he had made it 
strange that such a question should be asked; or as if he had 
said, " Lord ! dost thou see that I am blind ! and yet asketh 
me what thou shalt do for me ? My answer is plain in my 
misery, ' Lord ! that I may receive my sight ! ' " 

I needed not to make the application : and from this time, 
although I lay four months [May-Aiigust, 1704] in prison 
after this, and heard no more of it ; yet from this time, as I 
learned afterwards, this Noble Person made it his business 



D, Defoe 

Nov, 



itnG Queen Anne blames Lord Nottingham. "]"] 



to have my Case represented to Her Majesty, and methods 
taken for my deliverance. 

I mention this part, because I am no more to forget the 
Obligation upon me to the Queen, than to my First Bene- 
factor. 

When Her Majesty came to have the truth of the case 
laid before her, I soon felt the effects of her royal goodness 
and compassion. And first. Her Majesty declared " that she 
left all that matter to a certain person \_Daniel Finch, Earl 
of Nottingham], and did not think he w^ould have used me 
in such a manner." 

Perhaps these words may seem imaginary to some, and 
the speaking of them to be of no value ; and so they would 
have been, if they had not been followed with further and 
more convincing proofs of what they imported : which were 
these. That Her Majesty was pleased particularly to inquire 
into my circumstances and family ; and by my Lord Trea- 
surer GoDOLPHiN, to send a considerable supply to my wife 
and family ; and to send to me in the prison, money to pay 
my fine, and the expenses of my discharge. Whether this be 
a just Foundation, let my enemies judge ! 

Here is the Foundation on which I built my first Sense of 
Duty to Her Majesty's person ; and the indelible bond of 
gratitude to my First Benefactor. 

Gratitude and Fidelity are inseparable from an honest man! 
but to be thus obliged by a stranger, by a Man of Quality 
and Honour ; and after that, by the Sovereign under whose 
Administration I was suffering : let any one put himself in 
my stead ! and examine upon what principles I could ever act 
against either such a Queen, or such a Benefactor ! And what 
must have my own heart reproached me with ! what blushes 
must have covered my face, when I had looked in and called 
myself ungrateful to Him that saved me thus from distress ! 
or to Her that fetched me out of the dungeon, and gave my 
family relief! Let any man who knows what principles are, 
what engagements of honour and gratitude are, make this 
case his own ! and say, What I could have done less, or more, 
than I have done ? 

I must go on a little with the detail of the Obligation ; and 
then I shall descend to relate. What I have done, and What I 
have not done, in this case. 



yd, Faithfulness of Defoe to Harley. [N^v.^if^^ 

Being delivered from the distress I was in ; Her Majesty, 
who was not satisfied to do me good by a single act of her 
bounty, had the goodness to think of taking me into her 
Service : and I had the honour to be employed in several 
honourable though secret services, by the interposition of my 
First Benefactor, who then appeared as a member in the 
Public Administration [Robert Harley had succeeded Lord 
Nottingham, as Secretary of State, on May i8, 1704]. 

I had the happiness to discharge myself in all these trusts 
so much to the satisfaction of those who employed me, 
though oftentimes with difficulty and danger : that my 
Lord Treasurer Godolphin (whose memory I have always 
honoured) was pleased to continue his favour to me, and to 
do me all good offices with Her Majesty — even after an 
unhappy breach had separated him from my First Benefactor. 
The particulars of which [favour] it may not be improper to 
relate ; and as it is not an injustice to any, so I hope it will 
not be offensive. 

When, upon that fatal breach [February 15, 1708], the 
Secretary of State [Harley] was dismissed from the Service; 
I looked upon myself as lost ! it being a general rule in such 
cases, when a Great Officer falls, that all who came in by his 
Interest, fall with him. And resolving never to abandon the 
fortunes of the Man to whom I owed so much of my own ; I 
quitted the usual applications which I had made to my Lord 
Treasurer. 

But my generous benefactor, when he understood it, frankly 
told me, " That I should, by no means, do so ! for," said he, 
in the most engaging terms, "my Lord Treasurer will employ 
you in nothing but what is for the Public Service, and agree- 
able to your own sentiments of things : and, besides, it is the 
Queen you are serving! who has been very good to you. 
Pray apply yourself as you used to do ! I shall not take it 
ill from you in the least." 

Upon this, I went to wait on my Lord Treasurer, who 
received me with great freedom, and told me smiling, " He 
had not seen me a long while." 

I told his Lordship very frankly the occasion. " That the 
unhappy breach that had fallen out had made me doubtful 
whether I should be acceptable to his Lordship, that I knew 
it was usual when Great Persons fall, that all who were in 



D. Defoe 
Nov, 



j[°4;] Yet he does not see him for 3 years. 79 



their Interest fell with them ; that his Lordship knew the 
obligations I was under, and that I could not but fear my 
Interest in his Lordship was lessened on that account." 

" Not at all, Mr. De Foe ! " replied his Lordship, " I 
always think a man honest, till I find to the contrary." 

Upon this, I attended his Lordship as usual : and being 
resolved to remove all possible ground of suspicion that I 
kept any secret correspondence [with him], I never visited, 
nor wrote to, or in any way corresponded with, my Principal 
Benefactor [i.e.,HARLEY] for above three years [1708 to 1711] ; 
which he so well knew the reason of, and so well approved 
that punctual behaviour in me; that he never took it ill from 
me at all. 

In consequence of this reception [? in 1708], my Lord 
GoDOLPHiN had the goodness, not only to introduce me, for 
the second time, to Her Majesty and to the honour of kissing 
her hand, but obtained for me the continuance of an appoint- 
ment which Her Majesty had been pleased to make me in 
consideration of a former special service I had done [in a 
foreign country^ see pp. 83, 100], and in which I had run as much 
risk of my life as a Grenadier upon the Counterscarp : which 
appointment however was first obtained for me, at the inter- 
cession of my said First Benefactor \Harley\, and is all 
owing to that intercession and Her Majesty's bounty. 

Upon this second introduction, Her Majesty was pleased 
to tell me, with a goodness peculiar to herself, that she " had 
such satisfaction in my former services, that she had ap- 
pointed me for another affair, which was something nice 
[delicate or diffictdt], and that my Lord Treasurer, should tell 
me the rest." 

And so I withdrew. 

The next day, his Lordship, having commanded me to 
attend, told me that " he must send me into Scotland," and 
gave me but three days to prepare myself. 

Accordingly, I went to Scotland : where neither my busi- 
ness, nor the manner of my discharging it, is material to 
this Tract ; nor will it be ever any part of my character that I 
reveal what should be concealed. And yet my errand was 
such as was far from being unfit for a Sovereign to direct, or 
an honest man to perform : and the service I did on that 
occasion, as it is not unknown to the greatest man [the 



So An honest man connot be ungrateful. [i?ov!^iti4.' 

Duke of Shrewsbury] now in the nation, under the King and 
the Prince [of Wales] ; so, I dare say, His Grace was never 
displeased with the part I had in it, and I hope will not 

forget it. 1 , 

These things I mention, upon this account and no other; 
viz., to state the Obligation I have been in, all along, to Her 
Majesty personally ; and to my First Benefactor principally: by 
which I say, I think I was at least obliged not to act against 
them ; even in those things which I might not approve. 

Whether I have acted with them further than I ought, 
shall be spoken to by itself. 

Having said thus much of the Obligations laid on me, and 
the Persons by whom ; I have only this to add, that I think 
no man will say, a subject could be under greater bonds to 
his Prince, or a private person to a Minister of State : and I 
shall ever preserve this principle, that An honest man cannot 
be ungrateful to his benefactor ! 

But let no man run away, now, with the notion that I am 
now intending to plead the Obligation that was upon me 
from Her Majesty or from any other person, to justify my 
doing anything that is not otherwise to be justified in itself. 
Nothing would be more injurious, than such a construction ; 
and therefore I capitulate [stipulate] for so much justice as 
to explain myself by this declaration, viz. 

That I only speak of these obligations as binding me to a 
Negative conduct : not to fly in the face of, or concern myself in 
disputes with, those to whom I was under such obligations ; 
although I might not, in my judgement, join in many things that 
were done. 

No Obligation could excuse me in calling evil, good ; or 
good, evil : but I am of the opinion that I might justly think 
myself obliged to defend what I thought was to be defended, 
and to be silent in anything which I might think was not. 

If this is a crime, I must plead " Guilty ! " and give in 
the History of my Obligation above mentioned, as an extenu- 
ation, at least, if not a justification of my conduct. 

Suppose a man's father was guilty of several things 
unlawful and unjustifiable; a man may heartily detest the 
unjustifiable thing, and yet it ought not to be expected that 
he should expose his father ! I think the case on my side, 



N°'v.^i7?4:] The Charges made against Defoe. 8i 

exactly the same. Nor can the duty to a parent be more 
strongly obliging, than the Obligation laid on me. But I 
must allow the case on the other side, not the same. 



And this brings me to the Affirmative, and to inquire. 
What the matters of fact are ? what I have done, or have not 
done, on account of these Obligations which I have been 
under ? 

It is a general suggestion, and is affirmed with such 
assurance that they tell me, " It is in vain to contradict it ! " 
that / have been employed by the Earl of 0[xfor]d, the late Lord 
Treasurer, in the late dispiites about Public Affairs, to write for 
him, or to put it into their own particulars, have written by 
his direction, taken the materials from him, been dictated to or 
instructed by him, or by other persons from him, by his order, 
and the like ; and that I have received a pension, or salary, or 
payment from his Lordship for such services as these. 

If I could put it into words that would more fully express 
the meaning of these people, I profess I would do it. 

One would think it was impossible, but that since these 
things have been so confidently affirmed, some evidence 
might be produced ! some facts might appear ! some one 
body or other might be found, that could speak of certain 
knowledge ! To say " things have been carried too closely to 
be discovered," is saying nothing ! for, then, they must own 
that " it is not discovered " : and how, then, can they affirm 
it as they do, with such an assurance as nothing ought to be 
affirmed by honest men, unless they were able to prove it? 

To speak, then, to the fact. Were the reproach upon me 
only in this particular, I should not mention it. I should 
not think it a reproach to be directed by a man to whom the 
Queen had at that time entrusted the Administration of the 
Government. But as it is a reproach upon his Lordship, 
Justice requires that I do right in this case. 

The thing is true, or false. I would recommend it to 
those who would be called honest men, to consider but one 
thing, viz. What if it should not be true ! Can they justify 
the injury done to that Person, or to any person concerned ? 
If it cannot be proved, if no vestiges appear to ground it 
upon ; how can they charge men upon rumours and reports, 



82 Defoe a perfectly independent writer. [Nj,"v!^,f° 



Defoe. 
4- 



and join to run men's characters down by the stream of 
clamour. 

Sed quo rapit impetus undcB. 

In answer to the charge, I bear witness to posterity, that 
every part of it is false and forged ! and I do solemnly protest, 
in the fear and presence of HIM that shall judge us all, 
both the slanderers and the slandered, that / have not received 
any instructions, directions, orders, or let them call it what 
they will ! of that kind, for the writing of any part of what I 
have written ; or any materials for the putting together, for the 
forming any book or pamphlet whatsoever, from the said Earl of 
0[xfor]d, late Lord Treasurer ; or from any person, by his order 
or direction, since the time that the late Earl of G[ODOLPHl]N 
was Lord Treasurer [August lo, 1710]. Neither did I ever 
shew, or cause to be shewn to his Lordship, for his approbation, 
correction, alteration, or for any other cause, any book, paper, or 
pamphlet which I have written and published, before the same 
was printed, worked off at the press, and published. 

If any man can detect me of the least prevarication in this, 
or in any part of it, I desire him to do it, by all means ! and 
I challenge all the world to do it ! And if they cannot, then 
I appeal, as in my title, to the honour and justice of my worst 
enemies, to know, upon what foundation of truth or con- 
science, they can affirm these things ; and for what it is, 
that I bear these reproaches ? 

In all my writing, I never capitulated [stipulated] for my 
liberty to speak according to my own judgement of things. 
I ever had that liberty allowed me ! nor was I ever imposed 
upon to write this way or that, against my judgement, by 
any person whatsoever. 



I come now, historically, to the point of time, when my 
Lord GoDOLPHiN was dismissed from his employment; and 
the late unhappy division broke out at Court. 

I waited on my Lord, the day he was displaced [August 10, 
1710] ; and humbly asked hisLordship'sdirection, Whatcourse 
I should take? 

His Lordship's answer was, that " He had the same good 
will to assist me; but not the same power"; that " I was 
the Queen's servant ; and that all he had done for me, was 



Defoe 



if°4-] Defoe not involved in ministerial quarrels. 8^ 

by Her Majesty's special and particular direction "; and that 
" Whoever should succeed him, it was not material to me ; 
he ' supposed I should be employed in nothing relating to 
the present differences.' My business was to wait till I saw 
things settled; and then apply myself to the Ministers of 
State, to receive Her Majesty's commands from them." 

It occurred to me immediately, as a Principle for my con- 
duct, that it was not material to me [Defoe being practically 
one of the permanent Civil Servants of the Crown] what Ministers 
Her Majesty was pleased to employ. My duty was to go 
along with every Ministry, so far as they did not break in upon 
the Constitution, and the Laws and Liberties of my country ; my 
part being only the duty of a subject, viz., to submit to all 
lawful commands, and to enter into no service which was not 
justifiable by the Laws. 

To all which I have exactly obliged [conformed] myself. 

By this, I was providentially cast back upon my Original 
Benefactor [Robert Harley], who, according to his wonted 
goodness, was pleased to lay my case before Her Majesty; 
and thereby I preserved my interest in Her Majesty's favour, 
but without any engagement of service [i.e., he was not 
employed on any special secret mission]. 

As for consideration, pension, gratification, or reward ; I 
declare to all the world ! I have had none ! except only that 
old appointment which Her Majesty was pleased to make 
me in the days of the Ministry of my Lord Godolphin ; of 
which I_ have spoken already [//. 79, 100], and which was 
for services done in a foreign country, some years before. 

Neither have I been employed, or directed, or ordered by 
my Lord T[reasure]r [Lord Oxford] aforesaid, to do, or not 
to do, anything in the affairs of the unhappy differences 
[between Lords Oxford and Bolingbroke] which have so 
long perplexed us ; and for which I have suffered so many, 
and such unjust reproaches. 

I come next to enter into the Matters of Fact, and what 
it is I have done, or not done ; which may justify the treat- 
ment I have met with. 

And first, for the Negative part. What I have not done. 

The first thing in the unhappy breaches which have fallen 
out, is the heaping up scandal upon the persons and conduct 



84 The Change in i 710, a national disaster. [iEv^,',^°J: 

of Men of Honour, on one side as well as on the other: 
those unworthy methods, of falling upon one another by 
personal calumny and reproach. 

This I have often, in print, complained of as an unchristian, 
ungenerous, and unjustifiable practice. Not a word can be 
found in all I have written, reflecting on the persons or con- 
duct of any of the former Ministry [i.e., Lord Godolphin's], 
I served Her Majesty under their Administration. They 
acted honourably and justly in every transaction in which I 
had the honour to be concerned with them : and I never 
published or said anything dishonourable of any of them in 
my life ; nor can the worst enemy I have, produce any such 
thing against me. 

I always regretted the Change [i.e., of Ministry in August, 
1710] ; and looked upon it as a great disaster to the nation 
in general. I am sure it was so to me in particular; and 
the divisions and feuds among parties which followed that 
Change, were doubtless a disaster to us all. 

The next thing which followed the Change was the Peace 
[i.e., the Peace of Utrecht on April 11, 1713]. 

No man can say that ever I once said in my life, that " 1 
approved of the Peace." I wrote a public Paper at that 
time [1713], and there it remains upon record against me. 
I printed it openly, and that so plainly, as others durst not 
do, that " I did not like the Peace ; neither that which was 
made, nor that which was, before, a making" [the Negotia- 
tions at Gertruydenburg in 1710] ; that '* I thought the Pro- 
testant Interest was not taken care of, in either." That 
*' the Peace I was for, was such as should neither have given 
the Spanish Monarchy to the House of Bourbon, nor [to] the 
House of Austria; but that this bone of contention should 
have been broken to pieces : that it should not have been 
dangerous to Europe on any account :" and that *' the Pro- 
testant Powers (Britain and the States [Holland]) should 
have so strengthened and fortified their Interest by sharing the 
commerce and strength of Spain, as should have made them 
no more afraid either of France, or the Emperor; so that the 
Protestant Interest should have been superior to all the 
Powers of Europe, and been in no more danger of exorbitant 
power, whether French or Austrian." 

This was the Peace I argued for, pursuant to the design 



^v^if°4.] Defoe's relation to Peace of Utrecht. 8^ 



Nov, 



of King William in the Treaty of Partition ; and pursuant 
to tiiat Article in the Grand Alliance, which was directed by 
the same glorious hand, at the beginning of this last war 
[1702-1713 A.D.], that all we should conquer in the Spanish 
West Indies should be our own. 

This was, with a true design that England and Holland 
should have turned their naval power, which was eminently 
superior to that of France, to the conquest of the Spanish 
West Indies : by which the channel of trade and return of 
bullion, which now enrich the enemies of both, had been 
ours ; and as the Wealth, so the Strength of the World had 
been in Protestant hands. Spain, whoever had it, must 
then have been dependent upon us. The House of Bour- 
bon would have found it so poor, without us, as to be scarce 
worth fighting for : and the people so averse to them, for 
want of their commerce, as not to make it ever likely France 
could keep it. 

This was the Foundation I ever acted upon with relation 
to the Peace. 

It is true, that when it was made, and could not be other- 
wise, I thought our business was to make the best of it, and 
rather to inquire what improvements were to be made of it, 
than to be continually exclaiming at those who made it : 
and where the objection lies against this part, I cannot yet see! 

While I spoke of things in this manner, I bore infinite 
reproaches from clamouring pens, of " being in the French 
Interest ! being hired and bribed to defend a bad Peace ! " 
and the like : and most of this was upon a supposition of my 
writing, or being the author of [an] abundance of pamphlets 
which came out every day ; and which I had no hand in. 

And, indeed, as I shall observe again, by-and-by, this was 
one of the greatest pieces of injustice that could be done me, 
and which I labour still under without any redress ; that, 
whenever any piece comes out which is not liked, I am 
immediately charged with being the author ! and, very often, 
the first knowledge I have had of a book's being published, 
has been from seeing myself abused for being the author 
of it, in some other pamphlet published in answer to it. 

Finding myself treated in this manner, I declined writing 
at all ; and, for a great part of a year [i.e. in 17 12], never set 
pen to paper, except in the public Paper called the Review. 



So Books against the Jacobites in 171-^-3. [No"v!^f?t 

After this, I was long absent in the north of England, and 
observing the insolence of the Jacobite party, and how they 
insinuated tine things into the heads of the common people, 
of the Right and Claim of the Pretender, and of the Great 
Things he'would do for us, if he was to come in ; of his being 
to turn a Protestant ; of his being resolved to maintain our 
liberties, support our funds, give liberty to Dissenters, and 
the like: and finding that the people began to be deluded, 
and that the Jacobites gained ground among them, by these 
insinuations. I thought" it the best service I could do the 
Protestant Interest, and the best way to open the people's 
eyes to the advantages of the Protestant Succession, if 
I took some course effectually to alarm the people with 
what they really ought to expect, if the Pretender should 
come to 'be King. \\nd this made me set pen to paper 
again [in 1712]. 

And this brings me to the Affirmative part, or to What 
really / ftave done ? and in this, I am sorry to say, I have 
one of the foulest, most unjust, and unchristian clamours to 
complain of, that any man has suffered, I believe, since the 
days of the tjTanny of James II. 

In order to detect the influence of Jacobite emissaries, as 
above ; the first thing I wrote, was a small tract, called, A 
seasonabU Caution. [The full title is, ^-1 Sc\isonijbh' Warning 
and Caution against the Insinttations of Papists and Jacobites in 
favour of the Pretender. Being a Letter from an Englishman at 
the Court of Hanover. 24 pp. Published in 1712.] A book 
sincerely written to open the eyes of the poor ignorant country 
people, and to warn them against the subtle insinuations of 
the emissaries of the Pretender. And that it might be effec- 
tual to that purpose, I prevailed with several of my friends, to 
give them away among the poor people all over England, 
especially in the North : and several thousands were actually 
given away, the price being reduced so low, that the bare 
expense of Paper and Press was only preserved ; that everj' 
one might be convinced that nothing of gain was designed, but 
a sincere endeavour to do a public good, and assist to keep the 
people entirely in the Interest of the Protestant Succession. 

Next to this, and with the same sincere design, I wrote 
two pamphlets; one entituled, What if the Pretender should 



N^v'^itn.] Their immense influence. 87 

come? [The full title is And what if the Pretender should 
come ? Or some considerations of the Advantages and real Con- 
sequences of the Pretender's possessing the Crown of Great 
Britain. 44 pp. Published March 26, 1713.] The other, 
Reasons against the Succession of the House of Hanover. [The 
full title is, Reasons against the Succession of the House of 
Hanover; with an Inquiry how far the Abdication of King 
James, supposing it to be legal, ought to affect the Person of 
the Pretender. 48 pp. Published February 21, 1713.] 
Nothing can be more plain, than that the titles of these books 
were Amusements [innocent deceptions], in order to put the 
books into the hands of those people whom the Jacobites had 
deluded, and to bring the books to be read by them. 

Previous to what I shall further say of these books, I must 
observe that all these books met with so general a reception 
and approbation among those who were most sincere for the 
Protestant Succession, that they sent them all over the 
Kingdom, and recommended them to the people's reading, 
as excellent and useful pieces ; insomuch that about seven 
editions of them were printed, and they were reprinted in 
other places : and I do protest, had His present Majesty, then 
Elector of Hanover, given me £1,000 [;£'2,5oo now], to have 
written for the Interest of his Succession, and to expose and 
render the Interest of the Pretender odious and ridiculous, I 
could have done nothing more effectual to those purposes 
than those books were. 

And that I may make my worst enemies (to whom this is 
a fair Appeal) judges of this, I must take leave, by-and-by, to 
repeat some of the expressions in those books, which were 
direct, and need no explication ; and which, I think, no man 
that was in the Interest of the Pretender, nay, which no 
man but one who was entirely in the Interest of the Hanover 
Succession could write. 

Nothing can be severer in the fate of a man, than to act so 
between two Parties, that Both Sides should be provoked 
against him ! 

It is certain, the Jacobites cursed those tracts and the 
author; and when they came to read them, being deluded 
by the titles according to the design, they threw them by, with 
the greatest indignation imaginable ! Had the Pretender 
ever come to the throne, I could have expected nothing but 



88 Charged with writing for the Pretender. [N^ov^itif 

Death ! and all the ignominy and reproach that the most in- 
veterate enemy of his person and claim could be supposed 
to suffer ! 

On the other hand, I leave it to any considering man to 
judge what a surprise it must be to me, to meet with all the 
public clamour that Informers could invent, as " being guilty 
of writing against the Hanover Succession," and " as having 
written several pamphlets m favour of the Pretender." 

No man, in this nation, ever had a more riveted aversion 
to the Pretender, and to all the family, he pretended to come 
of, than I ! A man that had been in arms, under the Duke 
of Monmouth, against the cruelty and arbitrary government 
of his pretended father ! that, for twenty years, had, to my 
utmost, opposed him [King James], and his party, after his 
abdication ! that had served King William, to his satis- 
faction ! and the Friends of the Revolution, after his death, 
at all hazards and upon all occasions ! that had suffered and 
been ruined under the Administration of the Highflyers and 
Jacobites, of whom some are, at this day, counterfeit Whigs ! 
It could not be ! The nature of the thing could, by no means, 
allow it ! It must be monstrous ! And that the wonder may 
cease, I shall take leave to quote some of the expressions out 
of these books ; of which, the worst enemy I have in the world, 
is left to judge whether they are in favour of the Pretender or 
not ? But of this, in its place. 

For these books, I was prosecuted, taken into custody, 
and obliged to give ;i^8oo bail. 

I do not, in the least, object here against, or design to 
reflect upon the proceedings of the Judges which were sub- 
sequent to this. I acknowledged then, and now acknowledge 
again, that, upon the Information given, there was a sufficient 
ground for all they did ; and my unhappy entering upon my 
own Vindication in print, while the case was before their 
Lordships in a judicial way, was an error which I neither 
understood, and which I did not foresee. And therefore, 
although I had great reason to reflect upon the Informers, 
yet I was wrong in making that Defence in the manner and 
time I then made it ; and which, when I found, I made no 
scruple aftei-wards to petition the Judges, and to acknowledge 
that they had just ground to resent it : upon which Petition 
and Acknowledgement, their Lordships were pleased, with 



^ifu'] Prosecuted by some who know his innocence. 89 

particular marks of goodness, to release me ; and not take 
the advantage of an error of ignorance, as if it had been con- 
sidered and premeditated. 

But against the Informers ; I think I have great reason to 
complain : and against the injustice of those writers, who, 
in many pamphlets, charged me with writing for the Pre- 
tender ; and the Government, with pardoning an author who 
wrote for the Pretender. And indeed, the justice of those 
men can be in nothing more clearly stated, than in this case 
of mine ; where the charge, in their printed papers and public 
discourse, was brought, not that themselves believed me guilty 
of the crime, but because it was necessary to blacken the 
Man ! that a general reproach might serve for an answer to 
whatever he should say, that was not for their turn. So that 
it was the Person, not the Crime, they fell upon ! and they 
may justly be said to persecute /or the sake of persecution ! as 
will thus appear. 

This matter making some noise, people began to inquire 
into it; and to ask "What De Foe was prosecuted for? 
seeing the books were manifestly written against the Pretender, 
and for the Interest of the House of Hanover!" And my 
friends expostulated freely with some of the men who ap- 
peared in it ; who answered, with more truth than honesty, 
that " they knew this book [Reasons against, &c.] had nothing 
in it, and that it was meant another way : but that De Foe 
had disobliged them in other things ; and they were resolved 
to take the advantage they had, both to punish and expose 
him ! " 

They were no inconsiderable people who said this ; and 
had the case come to a trial, I had provided good evidence 
to prove the words. This is the Christianity and Justice by 
which I have been treated 1 and this Injustice is the thing 
that I complain of! 

Now as this was a plot of a few men to see if they could 
brand me in the world for a Jacobite, and persuade rash and 
ignorant people that I was turned about for the Pretender : 
I think they might as easily have proved me to be a 
Mahometan ! Therefore, I say this obliges me to state that 
matter as it really stands, that impartial men may judge 
whether those books were written for or against the Pretender. 



90 Defoe appeals to Queen Anne for a pardon. pfj°^: 

xA.nd this cannot be better done than by the account of what 
followed after the first Information ; which, in few words, 
is thus : 

Upon the several days appointed, I appeared at the Queen's 
Bench bar, to discharge my bail ; and, at last, had an In- 
dictment for high crimes and misdemeanours exhibited against 
me [June, 1713] by Her Majesty's Attorney-General [Sir 
Edward Northey] ; which, as I was informed, contained 
200 sheets of paper. What the substance of the indictment 
was, I shall not mention here ! neither could I enter upon it, 
having never seen the particulars. 

But I was told that " I should be brought to trial, the very 
next Term." 

I was not ignorant that, in such cases, it is easy to make 
any hook, a libel; and that the Jury must have found the 
matter of fact in the indictment, viz., that I had written such 
books : and then what might have followed, I knew not. 

Wherefore I thought it was my only way to cast myself on 
the clemency of Her Majesty, whose goodness I had had so 
much experience of, many ways ; representing in my Petition, 
that *'/ was far from the least intention to favour the Interest of 
the Pretender ; but that the books were all written with a sincere 
design to promote the Interest of the House of Hanover ; and 
humbly laid before Her Majesty {as I do now before the rest of the 
world) the books themselves, to plead in my behalf: " representing 
further that "/ was maliciously informed against, by those who 
were willing to put a construction upon the expressions different 
from my true meaning ; and therefore flying to Her Majesty's 
goodness and clemency, I efitreated her gracious Pardon I " 

It was not only the native disposition of Her Majesty to 
acts of clemency and goodness that obtained me this Pardon ; 
but, as I was informed, Her Majesty was pleased to express 
in the Council : " She saw nothing but private pique in the 
first prosecution." And therefore I think I cannot give a 
better and clearer vindication of myself than what is con- 
tamed in the Preamble to the Pardon which Her Majesty 
was pleased to grant me : and I must be allowed to say to 
those who are still willing to object, that I think what satis- 
fied Her Majesty might be sufficient to satisfy them. And 
I can answer them, that this Pardon was not granted without 
Her Majesty's being specially and particularly acquainted 




N^'v?^itit'.] The Queen's /*^i?z?c.v, 2oth Nov. 1713. 91 

with the things alleged in the Petition ; the books being 
looked into, to find the expressions quoted in the Petition. 

The Preamble to the Patent for a Pardon, as far as relates 
to the matters of fact, runs thus : 

IHereas, in the Term of Holy Trinity [June, 1713] last 
past, Our Attorney-General did exhibit an Informa- 
tion in Our Court of Queen's Bench at Westminster, 
against Daniel De Foe, late of London, Gentleman, 

for writing, printing, and publishing, and causing to be written, 

printed and published, three Libels : 

The one intituled, Reasons against the Succession of the 
House of Hanover; with an Inquiry how far the Abdica- 
tion of King James, supposing it to be legal, ought to 
affect the Person of the Pretender. 

One other intitided. And what if the Pretender should come ? 
Or some considerations of the Advantages and real Con- 
sequences of the Pretender's possessing the Crown of 
Great Britain. 

And one other intituled, An Answer to a Question that nobody 
thinks of, viz., What if the Queen should die ? [44 pp. 
Published in April, 1713.] 

And whereas the said Daniel De Foe hath, by his humble 
Petition, represented to us, that he, with a sincere design to pro- 
pagate the Interest of the Hanover Succession, and to animate 
the people against the designs of the Pretender whom he always 
looked upon as an enemy to our sacred Person and Government, 
did publish the said pamphlets. In all which books, although the 
titles seemed to look as if written in favour of the Pretender, and 
several expressions {as in all ironical writing it must be) may be 
wrested against the true design of the whole, and turned to a 
meaning quite different from the intention of the author : yet 
the Petitioner humbly assures us, in the solemjiest manner, that his 
true and only design in all the said books, was, by an ironical 
discourse of recommending the Pretender, in the strongest and 
most forcible manner, to expose his designs and the ruinous conse- 
quences of his succeeding therein : 

Which, as the Petitioner humbly represents, will appear to Our 
Satisfaction, by the books themselves, where the following ex- 
pressions are very plain, viz., that the Pretender is recommended, 



92 The Queen's Pardon, 20th Nov. 17 13. [N^v^itit. 

A^ a person proper to amass the English Liberties into 

his own Sovereignty, to supply them with the Privileges 

of wearing Wooden Shoes ; easing them of the trouble of 

choosing Parliaments, and the Nobility and Gentry of the 

hazard and expense of winter journeys, by governing them, 

in that more righteous Method of his Absolute Will ; 

and enforcing the Laws by a glorious Standing Army; 

paying all the nation's debts at once by stopping the Funds, 

and shutting up the Exchequer ; easing and quieting their 

differences in religion, by bringing them to the Union of 

Popery or leaving them at liberty to have no religion 

at all. 

That these were some of the very expressions in the said books 

which the Petitioner sincerely designed to expose and oppose, as 

far as in him lies, the Interest of the Pretender, and with no other 

intention. 

Nevertheless the Petitioner, to his great surprise, has been mis- 
represented ; and his said books misconstrued, as if written in 
favour of the Pretender, and the Petitioner is now under prosecu- 
tion for the same ; which prosecution, if further carried on, will 
be the utter ruin of the Petitioner and his family. Wherefore 
the Petitioner, humbly assuring us of the i^mocence of his design 
as aforesaid, flies to Our clemejtcy, and most humbly prays Our 
most gracious and free pardon ; We, taking the premisses, and the 
circumstances aforesaid, into Our royal consideration, are gra- 
ciously pleased [to extend our royal mercy to the Petitioner. 

Our Will and Pleasure therefore is, that you prepare a bill for 
Our royal signature, to pass Our great seal, containing Our 
gracious and free Pardon unto him, the said Daniel De Foe, 
of the offences aforementioned, and of all indictments, co7ivictions, 
pains, penalties, and forfeitures incurred thereby : and you are to 
insert therein, all such apt and beneficial clauses as you shall 
judge requisite to make this our intended Pardon more full, valid, 
and effectual ; and for so doing, this shall be your Warrant. 

Given at Our Castle at Windsor, the 20th day of Novejnber, 
1713, ill the twelfth year of Our reign. 

By Her Majesty's Command, 

BOLINGBROKE.] 

Let any indifferent man judge whether I was not treated 
with peculiar malice in this matter ; who was, notwithstand- 



N^'v.^itit] '^^^ FIRST EVER PARDONED ON THIS SORT. 93 

ing this, reproached in the daily pubHc prints, with having 
written treasonable books in behalf of the Pretender : nay, 
and in some of those books as before, the Queen herself was 
reproached ! with " having granted her pardon to an author 
who wrote for the Pretender." 

I think I might with much more justice say, I was the 
first man that ever was obliged to seek a Pardon for writing 
for the Hanover Succession ; and the first man that these 
people ever sought to ruin for writing against the Pretender: 
for if ever a book was sincerely designed to further and pro- 
pagate the affection and zeal of the nation against the 
Pretender; nay, and was made use of (and that with success too) 
for that purpose, these books were so. And I ask no more 
favour of the World to determine the opinion of honest men 
for or against me, than what is drawn constructively from 
these books. Let one word, either written or spoken by me, 
either published or not published, be produced, that was in 
the least disrespectful to the Protestant Succession, or to 
any branch of the Family of Hanover, or that can be judged 
to be favourable to the Interest or Person of the Pretender ; 
and I will be willing to wave Her Majesty's Pardon, and 
render myself to public justice, to be punished for it, as I 
should well deserve. 

I freely and openly challenge the worst of my enemies to 
charge me with any discourse, conversation, or behaviour in 
my whole life, which had the least word in it injurious to 
the Protestant Succession, unbecoming or disrespectful to 
any of the persons of the Royal Family of Hanover, or the 
least favourable word of the person, the designs, or friends 
of the Pretender. If they can do it, let them stand forth 
and speak ! No doubt but they may be heard ! And I, for 
my part, will relinquish all pleas, Pardons, and defences, and 
cast myself into the hands of Justice. 

Nay, to go further : I defy them to prove that I ever kept 
company, or had any society, friendship, or conversation 
with any Jacobite ! so averse have I been to the Interest, 
and to the people, that I have studiously avoided their 
company upon all occasions. 

As nothing in the world has been more my aversion than 
the society of Jacobites, so nothing can be a greater mis- 
fortune to me than to be accused, and publicly reproached 



94 Defoe ever studiously avoided Jacobites. [iJivJ'itM. 

with what is, of all things in the world, most abhorred by 
me : and that which had made it the more afflicting is, that 
this charge arises from those very things which I did, with 
the sincerest design, to manifest the contrary. 

But such is my present fate, that I am to submit to it: 
which I do with meekness and calmness, as to a judgement 
from heaven ; and am practising that duty, which I have 
studied long ago, of "forgiving my enemies," and " praying 
for them that despitefully use me." 

Having given this brief history of the Pardon &.C., I hope 
the impartial part of the world will grant me, that, being 
thus graciously delivered, a second time, from the cruelty of 
my implacable enemies, and the ruin of a ciuel and unjust 
prosecution; and that, by the mere ckmeicy and gco Iness 
of the Queen, my Obligation to Her Majesty's goodness was 
far from being made less than it was before. 



I have now run through the history of my Obligation to 
Her Majesty, and to the Person of my Benefactor aforesaid. 
I shall state everything that followed this, with all the 
clearness I can ; and leave myself liable to as little cavil as 
I may. For I see myself assaulted by a sort of people who 
will do me no justice. I hear a great noise made of " punish- 
ing those that are guilty ! " ; but, as I said before, not one 
word of " clearing those that are innocent ! " And I must 
say, in this part, they treat me not only as if I were no 
Christian, but as if they themselves were not Christians. 
They will neither prove the charge, nor hear the defence; 
which is the unjustest thing in the world. 

I foresee what will be alleged to the clause of my Obli- 
gation &c., to Great Persons : and I resolve to give my 
adversaries all the advantage they can desire, by acknow- 
ledging beforehand that "no Obligation to the Queen or to 
any Benefactor can justify any man's acting against the 
Interest of his country ! against his principles ! his conscience! 
and his former profession!" 

I think this will anticipate all that can be said upon that 
head : and it will then remain to state the fact, as I am, or 
am not chargeable with it ; which I shall do as clearly as 
possible in few words. 



N^"v^iti4.] Why did not Defoe attack Oxford's acts ? 95 

It is none of my work to enter into the conduct of the 
Queen, or of the Ministry, in this case. The question is not 
What they have done, but What I have done ? 

And though I am very far from thinking of them [i.e., 
Lord Oxford's Ministry] as some other people think : yet, 
for the sake of the present argument, I am to give them all 
up ! and suppose (though not granting) that all which is 
suggested of them by the worst temper, the most censorious 
writer, the most scandalous pamphlet or lampoon, should be 
true ; and I will go through some of the particulars, as I 
meet with them in public. 

I. That they made a scandalous Peace, unjustly broke the 
Alliance, betrayed the Confederates, and sold us all to the French. 
GOD forbid it should be all truth, in the manner that we 
see it in print : but that, I say, is none of my business ! 

But what hand had I in all this ? I never wrote one word 
for the Peace before it was made ; or to justify it after it 
was made. Let them produce it, if they can ! 

Nay, in a Review upon that subject, while it was making, I 
printed it, in plainer words than other men durst speak at that 
time, that " I did not like the Peace ; nor did I like any Peace 
that was a making since that the Partition ; and that the 
Protestant Interest was not taken care of, either in that, or 
the Treaty of Gertruydenburg before it." 

It is true, that I did say, " That since the Peace was made, 
and we could not help it, that it was our business and our 
duty to make the best of it, to make the utmost advantage of 
it by commerce, navigation, and all kinds of improvement 
that we could." And this I say still ! and I must think it is 
more our duty to do so, than the exclamations against the 
thing itself ; which it is not in our power to retrieve. That 
is all, the worst enemy I have can charge me with. 

After the Peace was made, and the Dutch and the 
Emperor stood out ; I gave my opinion of what I foresaw 
would necessarily be the consequence of that difference, viz., 
that it would inevitably involve these Nations in a war with 
one or other of them. Any one who was master of common 
sense in the public affairs might see, that the standing out 
of the Dutch could have no other event. 

For if the Confederates had conquered the French, they 



96 England obliged to bring in the Allies, [rf^ 



Defoe, 
ov. 1714. 



would certainly have fallen upon us, by way of resentment : 
and there was no doubt but the same counsels that led us to 
make a Peace, would oblige us to maintain it, by preventing 
too great impressions upon [i.e., the annihilation of] the French. 

On the other hand, I alleged that should the French 
prevail against the Dutch, unless he stopped at such limita- 
tions of conquest as the Treaty obliged him to do, we must 
have been under the same necessity to renew the war against 
France. And for this reason, seeing we had made a Peace, 
we were obliged to bring the rest of the Confederates into it ! 
and to bring the French to give them all such terms as they 
ought to be satisfied with. 

This way of arguing was either so little understood, or so 
much maligned that I suffered innumerable reproaches in 
print, for having written for a war with the Dutch : which 
was neither in the expression, nor ever in my imagination. 
But I pass by these injuries as small and trifling, com- 
pared to others I suffered under. 

However, one thing I must say of the Peace. Let it be 
good or ill in itself, I cannot but think we have all reason 
to rejoice in behalf of His present Majesty, that, at his 
accession to the Crown, he found the nation in peace ; and 
had the hands of the King of France tied by a Peace, so as 
not to be able, without the most infamous breach of Articles, 
to offer the least disturbance to his taking a quiet and 
leisurely possession, or so much as to countenance those that 
would. Not but that I believe, if the war had been at the 
height, we should have been able to have preserved the 
Crown for His present Majesty, its only rightful Lord : but 
I will not say, it should have been so easy, so bloodless, so 
undisputed as now : and all the difference must be acknow- 
ledged [attributed] to the Peace. And this is all the good I 
ever yet said of the Peace. 



I come next to the general clamour of the Ministry 
being for the Pretender. I must speak my sentiments solemnly 
and plainly, as I always did in that matter, viz., that, *' If it 
were so, I did not see it ! Nor did I ever see reason to 
believe it 1" This I am sure of, that if it were so, I never 



^,'5°^:] Whigs drave Oxford towards the Jacobites. 97 

took one step in that kind of service, nor did I ever hear 
one word spoken by any one of the Ministry that I had the 
honour to know or converse with, that favoured the Pre- 
tender : but I have had the honour to hear them all protest 
that there was no design to oppose the Succession of Hanover 
in the least. 

It maybe objected to me, that "theymight be in the Interest 
of the Pretender, for all that ! " 

It is true, they might ; but that is nothing to me ! I am 
not vindicating their conduct, but my own ! As I never was 
employed in anything that way, so I do still protest I do not 
believe it was ever in their design ; and I have many reasons 
to confirm my thoughts in that case, which are not material 
to the present case. 

But be that as it will, it is enough to me, that I acted 
nothing in such Interest ; neither did I ever sin against the 
Protestant Succession of Hanover in thought, word, or deed: 
and if the Ministry did, I did not see it, or so much as suspect 
them of it ! 

It was a disaster to the Ministry, to be driven to the neces- 
sity of taking that Set of Men by the hand ; who, nobody can 
deny, were in that Interest. But as the former Ministry 
answered, when they were charged with a design to overthrow 
the Church, because they favoured, joined with, and were 
united to the Dissenters ; I say, they answered that " they 
made use of the Dissenters, but granted them nothing " {which, 
by the way, was too true I ): so these gentlemen answer, that 
" it is true, they made use of the Jacobites ; but did nothing 
for them ! " 

But this, by-the-by. Necessity is pleaded by both Parties 
for doing things, which neither side can justify. I wish both 
sides would for ever avoid the necessity of doing evil : for 
certainly it is the worst plea in the world ! and generally made 
use of, for the worst things. 

I have often lamented the disaster which I saw employing 
Jacobites was to the late Ministry ; and certainly it gave the 
greatest handle to the enemies of the Ministry to fix that 
universal reproach upon them, of being in the Interest of the 
Pretender : but there was no medium. The Whigs refused 
to shew them a safe retreat, or to give them the least oppor- 
tunity to take any other measures, but at the risk of their 



98 Queen Anne favours House of Hanover. [N^V^xti"" 

own destruction: and they ventured upon that course, in 
hopes of being able to stand alone at last, without help of 
either the one or the other; in which, no doubt, they were 
mistaken. 

However, in this part, as I was always assured, and have 
good reason still to believe, that Her Majesty was steady in 
the Interest of the House of Hanover; and that nothing 
was ever offered me or required of me to the prejudice of that 
Interest : on what ground can I be reproached with the secret 
reserved design of any ; if they have such designs (as I still 
verily believe they had not) ? 

I see there are some men who would fain persuade the 
World, that every man that was in the Interest of the late 
Ministry, or employed by the late Government, or that served 
the late Queen, was for the Pretender ! 

GOD forbid this should be true ! and I think there needs 
very little to be said in answer to it. I can answer for my- 
self, that it is notoriously false ! and I think the easy and 
uninterrupted accession of His Majesty to the Crown con- 
tradicts it. 

I see no end which such a suggestion aims at, but to leave 
an odium on all that had any duty or regard to Her late 
Majesty. 

A subject is not always master of his Sovereign's measures, 
nor always to examine what Persons or Parties the Prince he 
serves, employs ; so be it that they break not in upon the 
Constitution, that they govern according to Law, and that he 
is employed in no illegal act, or has nothing desired of him 
inconsistent with the Laws and Liberties of his country. If 
this be not right, then a servant of the King is in a worse case 
than a servant to any private person. 

In all these things, I have not erred : neither have I acted 
or done anything in the whole course of my life, either in the 
service of Her Majesty, or of her Ministry, that any one can 
say has the least deviation from the strictest regard to the 
Protestant Succession, and to the Laws and Liberties of my 
country. 

I never saw an arbitrary action offered at, a law dispensed 
with, Justice denyed, or Oppression set up, either by Queen 
or Ministry, in any branch of the Administration wherein 
I had the least concern. 



tSv^fJif] ^"^ Obligation is my plea for my Silence. 99 

If I have sinned against the Whigs, it has all been negatively, 
viz., that I have not joined in the loud exclamations against 
the Queen, and against the Ministry, and against their 
measures. 

And if this be my crime, my plea is twofold. 

1. I did not really see cause for their carrying their com- 
plaints to that violent degree. 

2. What I did see, what (as before) I lamented and was 
sorry for, and could not join with or approve; disjoining 
with Jacobites, the Peace, &c. : my Obligation is my 
plea for my silence. 

I have all the good thoughts of the person, and good wishes 
for the prosperity of my Benefactor [Harley, Lord Oxford], 
that charity, that gratitude can inspire me with. I ever 
believed him to have the true Interest of the Protestant 
Religion, and of his country in his view : if it should be 
otherwise, I should be very sorry ! 

And I must repeat it again that he always left me so 
entirely to my own judgement in everything I did, that 
he never prescribed to me what I should write or should not 
write, in my life : neither did he ever concern himself to 
dictate to, or restrain me in any kind; nor did he see any one 
tract that I ever wrote before it was printed. So that all the 
notion of my writing by his direction is as much a slander 
upon him, as it is possible anything of that kind can be. And 
if I have written anything which is offensive, unjust, or un- 
true, I must do that justice to declare, he has had no hand in 
it : the crime is my own. 

As the reproach of his directing me to write, is a slander 
upon the Person I am speaking of; so that of my receiving 
pensions and payments from him, for writing, is a slander 
upon me : and I speak it with the greatest sincerity, serious- 
ness, and solemnity that it is possible for a Christian man 
to speak, that, except the appointment I mentioned before, 
which Her Majesty was pleased to make me formerly, and 
which I received during the time of my Lord Godolphin's 
Ministry, I have not received of the late Lord Treasurer, or of 
any one else by his order, knowledge, or direction, one farthing, or 
the value of a farthing, during his whole Administration : nor 



loo His SERVICES "should never be forgotten!" [^^5'°^; 

has all the Interest I have been supposed to have in his 
Lordship been able to procure me the arrears due to me [for 
the dangerous service abroad, see p. 83] in the time of the other 
Ministry, So help me God ! 

I am under no necessity of making this declaration. The 
services I did, nnd for which Her Majesty was pleased to 
make me a small allowance, are known to the greatest men 
in the present Administration ; and some of them were then 
of the opinion, and I hope are so still, that I was not un- 
worthy of Her Majesty's favour. The effect of those services, 
however small, are enjoyed by those Great Persons and by 
the whole nation, to this day : and I had the honour once, 
to be told that " They should never be forgotten ! " \_See 

pp. 79.^3.] _ 

It is a misfortune that no man can avoid, to forfeit for his 
deference to the person and services of his Queen, to whom 
he was inexpressibly obliged. And if I am fallen under the 
displeasure of the present Government, for anything I ever 
did in obedience to Her Majesty in the past ; I may say it 
is my disaster, but I can never say it is my fault. 

This brings me again to that other Oppression which, as 
I said [f^. 85], I suffer under; and which I think is of a kind 
that no man ever suffered under so much as myself: and 
this is, to have every libel, every pamphlet, be it ever so 
foolish, so malicious, so unmannerly, or so dangerous, laid 
at my door, and be called publicly by my name. 

It has been in vain for me to struggle with this injury. 
It has been in vain for me to protest, to declare solemnly. 
Nay, if I would have sworn, that I had no hand in such 
a book or paper ! never saw it ! never read it ! and the like ; 
it was the same thing. 

My name has been hackneyed about the street by the 
hawkers, and about the coffee-houses by the politicians ; at 
such a rate, as no patience would bear ! 

One man will swear to the style ! another to this or that 
expression ! another to the way of printing ! and all so positive, 
that it is to no purpose to oppose it. 

I published once, to stop this way of using me, that I would 
print nothing but what I set my name to : and I held to it, 
for a year or two : but it was all one, I had the same treatment! 



rSv^itilG ^^^^^'^ NAME PUT TO ANY PAMPHLET. lOI 

I now have resolved, for some time, to write notliing at all : 
and yet I find it the same thing ! 

Two books lately published [the first two of the three Parts 
of the Secret History of the White ^idi^, published in October 
1714] being called mine ; for no other reason that I know of, 
than that, at the request of the printer, I revised two sheets 
[2)2 pp.] of them at the press; and that they seemed to be 
written in favour of a certain Person [Harley, Lord 
Oxford] : which Person also, as I have been assured, had 
no hand in them, or any knowledge of them till they were 
published in print. 

This is a Flail which I have no fence against ! but to 
complain of the injustice of it : and that is but the shortest 
way to be treated with more injustice. 

There is a mighty charge against me for being Author and 
Publisher of a Paper called the Mercator [or Commerce revived 
from 26th May, 1713, to 20th July, 1714]. I will state the 
fact first, and then speak to the subject. 

It is true that, being desired to give my opinion in the 
affair of the commerce of France, I did (as I often had done 
in print, many years before) declare that "It was my opinion 
we ought to have Open [Free] Trade with France; because I 
did believe we might have the advantage by such a trade " : 
and of this opinion, I am still. 

What Part I had in the Mercator is well known : and, 
would men answer with argument and not with personal 
abuses, I would at any time, defend every part of the Mer- 
cator which was of my doing. But to say the Mercator was 
mine, is false ! I neither was the Author [Editor] of it, had 
the property [proprietorship] of it, the printing of it, or the 
profit by it. I have never had any payment or reward for 
writing any part of it ; nor had I the power to put what 
I would into it. 

Yet the whole clamour fell upon me, because they knew 
not who else to load with it. And when they came to an- 
swer ; the method was, instead of argument, to threaten, 
and reflect upon me ! reproach me with private circumstances 
and misfortunes ! and give language which no Christian 
ought to give ! and which no Gentleman ought to take ! 

I thought any Englishman had the liberty to speak his 



I02 Defoe's share in the Mercator. [j?. 



. Defoe, 
ov. 1714. 



opinion in such things : for this had nothing to do with the 
Public {State Affairs]. The press was open to me, as well 
as to others ; and how or when I lost my English liberty of 
speaking my mind, I know not ! neither how my speaking 
my opinion without fee or reward, could authorize them to 
call me " villain ! " " rascal ! " "traitor ! " and such oppro- 
brious names. 

It was ever my opinion, as it is so still, that were our wool 
kept from France, and our manufactures spread in France 
upon reasonable duties; all the improvement which the 
French have made in woollen manufactures would decay, 
and in the end be little worth : and consequently the hurt 
they could do us by them, would be of little moment. 

It was my opinion, and is so still, that the gth Article of 
the Treaty of Commerce was calculated for the advantage of 
our trade (let who will, make it, that is nothing to me !) My 
reasons are, because it tied up the French to open the door 
to our manufactures, at a certain duty of importation, there ; 
and left the Parliament of Britain at liberty, to shut theirs 
out, by as high duties as they pleased, here : there being no 
limitation upon us, as to duties on French goods, but that 
other nations should pay the same. 

While the French were thus bound, and the British free ; 
I always thought we must be in a condition to trade to 
advantage, or it must be our own fault. 

That was my opinion, and is so still. And I would ven- 
ture to maintain it against any man upon a public stage, 
before a jury of fifty merchants; and venture my life upon 
the cause, if I were assured of fair play in the dispute. 

But that it was my opinion that we might carry on a trade 
with France to our great advantage, and that we ought, for 
that reason, to trade with them, appears in the 3rd, 4th, 5th, 
and 6th Volumes of the Review [issued between Jan. i, 1706, 
and May 23, 1710; the earlier ones], above nine [or rather seven] 
years before the Mercator [which commenced on May 26, 1713] 
was thought of. It was not thought criminal to say so then 1 
How it comes to be "villainous" to say so now, GOD knows! 
I can give no account of it. I am still of the same opinion, 
and shall never be brought to say othenvise, unless I see the 
state of trade so altered as to alter my opinion ; and if ever I 
do, I will be able to give good reasons for it. 



N^v.^tM^ ^^'^'^ TREATMENT FOR IIIS TRADE VIEWS. IO3 

The answer to these things, whether mine or not, was all 
pointed at me : and the arguments were generally in the 
terms of "Villain!" " Raseal ! " "Miscreant!" "Liar!" 
"Bankrupt!" "Fellow!" "Hireling!" "Turncoat!" dec. 
What the arguments were bettered by these methods, that I 
leave to others to judge of! 

Also most of those things in the Mercator, for which I had 
such usage, were such as I was not the author of ! 



I do grant, had all the h(K)l<s which have been called by 
my name, been written by me, I must, of necessity, have 
exasperated every side ; and, perhaps, have deserved it. Hut 
I have the greatest injustice imaginal)le in this treatment, as 
I have [also] in the perverting [ofj the design, of what really 
I have written. 



To sum up therefore my Complaint in few words : 
I was from my hrst entering into the knowledge of Public 
Matters, and have ever been to this day, a sincere lover of 
the Constitution of my country, zealous for Liberty and the 
Protestant Interest; but a constant follower of Moderate 
Principles, a vigorous opposer of Mot Measures of all Parties. 
I never once changed my opinion, my principles, or my 
Party : and let what will be said of changing sides, this I 
maintain, that I never once deviated from the Revolution 
Principles, nor from the doctrine of Liberty and Property on 
which they were founded. 

I own I could never be convinced of the great danger of 
the Pretender, in the time of the late Ministry; nor can I be 
now convinced of the great danger of the Church under this 
Ministry. I believe the cries of the one were politically 
made use of, then, to serve other designs; and I plainly see 
the like use, made of the other now. I spoke my mind 
freely then, and I have done the like now, in a small tract 
to that purpose, not yet made public, and which if I live to 
publish, I will publicly own ; as I purpose to do everything 
I write, that my friends may know when I am abused, and 
they imposed on. 



I04 An opposer of Hot Measures of all Parties. P,'J°=: 

It has been the disaster of all Parties in this nation to be 
Very Hot in their turn ; and as often as they have been so, 
I have differed with them all ! and ever must and shall do so ! 
I will repeat some of the occasions on the Whigs' side ; 
because from that quarter, the accusation of my Turning 
About comes. 

The first time I had the misfortune to differ with my 
friends, was about the year 1683, when the Turks were 
besieging Vienna ; and the Whigs in England, generally 
speaking, were for the Turks taking it : which I (having 
read the history of the cruelty and perfidious dealings of 
the Turks in their wars, and how they had rooted out 
the name of the Christian religion in above threescore 
and ten kingdoms) could by no means agree with ; and 
though then but a young man, and a younger author, I 
opposed it and wrote against it, which was taken very 
unkindly indeed. 
The next time I differed with my friends, was when King 
James was wheedling the Dissenters, to take off the 
Penal Laws and the Test : which I could by no means 
come into. 
And as, in the first, I used to say, I had rather the Popish 
House of Austria should ruin the Protestants in Hungary, 
than the infidel House of Ottoman should ruin both Protes- 
tant and Papist, by overrunning Germany ; so, in the other, 
I told the Dissenters I had rather the Church of England 
should pull our clothes off, by fines and forfeitures ; than the 
Papists should fall both upon the Church and the Dissenters, 
and pull our skins off by fire and faggot ! 

The next difference I had with good men was about the 
scandalous practice of Occasional Conformity : in which 
I had the misfortune to make many honest men angry ; 
rather because I had the better of the argument, than 
because they disliked what I said. 
And now I have lived to see the Dissenters themselves 
very quiet, if not very well pleased with an Act of Parlia- 
ment to prevent it. Their friends indeed laid it on. They 
would be friends indeed, if they would talk of taking it 
off again. 

Again, I had a breach with honest men for their mal- 
treating King William. 



lEv^xtM-] ^"EN AND HOW Defoe left the Whigs. 105 

Of which, I say nothing: because I think they are now 
opening their eyes, and making what amends they can to his 
memory. 
The fifth difference I had with them, was about the Treaty 
of Partition, in which many honest men were mistaken ; 
and in which, I told them plainly then, that "they 
would, at last, end the war upon worse terms." 
And so it is my opinion they would have done, though the 
Treaty of Gertruydenburg had taken place. 

The sixth time I differed with them was when the Old 

Whigs fell on the Modern Whigs ; and when the Duke 

of Marlborough and my Lord Godolphin were used 

by the Observator in a manner worse, I confess, for the 

time it lasted, than ever they were used since : nay, 

though it were by Abel and the Examiner ! But the 

success failed. In this dispute, my Lord Godolphin 

did me the honour to tell me, " I had served him, and 

His Grace also, both faithfully and successfully." 

But his Lordship is dead [in 1712], and I have now no 

testimony of it but what is to be found in the Observator^ 

where I am plentifully abused for being an enemy to my 

country, by acting in the Interest of my Lord Godolphin 

and the Duke of Marlborough. What weathercock can 

turn with such tempers as these ! 

I am now in the seventh breach with them, and my crime 
now is, that I will not believe and say the same things 
of the Queen and the late Treasurer [Lord Oxford] , 
which I could not believe before, of my Lord Godolphin 
and the Duke of Marlborough ; and which, in truth, 
I cannot believe, and therefore could not say it of either 
of them : and which, if I had believed, yet I ought not 
to have been the man that should have said it; for the 
reasons aforesaid [pp. ;/6, 78]. 



In such turns of Tempers and Times, a man must be 
tenfold a Vicar of Bray, or it is impossible but he must, one 
time or out, be out with everybody. 

This is my present condition ; and for this, I am reviled 
with having abandoned my principles, turned Jacobite, and 
and what not. GOD judge between me and these men ] 



1 06 Violent charges made without any proofs. [N^oV^iti!: 

Would they come to any particulars with me, what real 
guilt I may have, I would freely acknowledge ! and if they 
would produce any evidence of the bribes, the pensions, and 
the rewards I have taken ; I would declare honestly, whether 
they were true or not. 

If they would give me a list of the books, which they 
charge me with ; and the reasons why they lay them at my 
door ; I would acknowledge any mistake, own what I have 
done, and let them know what I have not done 1 

But these men neither shew mercy, nor leave place for 
repentance ! in which they act not only unlike their Maker, 
but contrary to His express commands. 

It is true, good men have been used thus in former times : 
and all the comfort I have is, that these men have not 
the Last Judgement in their hands ! if they had, dreadful 
would be the case of those who oppose them. But that 
Day will shew many men, and things also, in a different 
state from what they may now appear in : some that now 
appear clear and fair, will then be seen to be black and foul ; 
and some that are now thought black and foul, will then be 
approved and accepted. And thither, I cheerfully appeal ; 
concluding this Part in the words of the prophet : " I heard 
the defaming of many ! Fear on every side. Report," say 
they, "and we will report it!" All my familiars watched 
for my halting, saying, " Peradventure, he will be enticed, 
and we shall prevail against him ; and we shall take our 
revenge on him" (Jeremiah xx. 10). 

Mr. [Matthew] Poole's Annotations [1683-5], has the 
following remarks on these lines ; which I think are so much 
to that Part of my case which is to follow, that I could not 
omit them. His words are these : 

" The prophet,'" says he, " here rendereth a reason why he 
thought of giving over his Work as a prophet : his ears were 
continually filled with the obloquies and reproaches of such as 
reproached him ; and besides, he was afraid on all hands, there 
were so many traps laid for him, so many devices devised against 
him. They did not only take advantages against him ; but sought 
advantages, and invited others to raise stories of him. Not only 
strangers : but those that he might have expected the greatest kind- 
ness from ; those that pretended most courteously : they watch," 
says he, "/or opportunities to do me mischief, and lay in wait for 



N^v.°x7i4:] -Defoe's study of Poole's Annotations. 107 

my halting; desiring nothing more than that I might be enticed 
to speak, or do something [in] which they might find matter of a 
colourable accusation, that so they might satisfy their malice upon 
me. This hath always been the genius of wicked men. Job and 
David both made complaints much like this" 

These are Mr. Poole's words. 

And this leads me to several particulars, in which my 
case may, without any arrogance, be likened to that of the 
sacred prophet ; excepting only the vast disparity of the 
persons. 

No sooner was the Queen dead, and the King (as right 
required) proclaimed ; but the rage of men increased upon 
me to that degree, that the threats and insults I received, 
were such as I am not able to express ! If I offered to say a 
word in favour of the present Settlement it was called 
"fawning ! and turning round again !" On the other hand, 
though I have meddled, neither one way or other, nor 
written one book since the Queen's death ; yet a great many 
things are called by my name, and I bear, every day, all the 
reproaches whch all the Answerers of those books cast, as 
well upon the subject as the authors. 

I have not seen or spoken to my Lord of Oxford, since 
the King's landing [September 18, 1714] ; nor received the 
least message, order, or writing from his Lordship, or in any 
other way, corresponded with him : yet he bears the reproach 
of my writing in his defence; and I, the rage of men for 
doing it ! I cannot say it is no affliction to me, to be thus 
used ; though my being entirely clear of the facts is a true 
support to me. 

I am unconcerned at the rage and clamour of Party men : 
but I cannot be unconcerned to hear men, whom I think 
are good men and true Christians, prepossessed and mis- 
taken about me. However, I cannot doubt but, sometime 
or other, it will please GOD to open such men's eyes. A 
constant, steady adhering to personal Virtue and to public 
Peace, which (I thank GOD ! I can appeal to Him !) has 
always been my practice, will, at last, restore me to the 
opinion of sober and impartial men ; and that is all I desire. 

What it will do with those who are resolutely partial and 
unjust I cannot say ; neither is that much my concern. But 
I cannot forbear giving one example of the hard treatment I 



loS Appeal interrupted by apoplexy. [>J 






receive ; which has happ^ened, even while I am writing this 
tract. 

I have six children. I have educated them as well as my 
circumstances will permit : and so, as I hope, shall recom- 
mend them to better usag^e than their father meets with in the 
World. I am not indebted one shilling in the world, for any 
part of their education, or for anything else belonging to 
bringing them up. Yet the Author of the Flying Pcsi pub- 
lished lately that " I never paid for the education of any 
of my children." 

If any man in Britain has a shilling to demand of me, for 
any part of their education, or anjthing belonging to them : 
let him come for it ! 

But these men care not what injurious things they write, 
nor what they say, whether truth or not ; if it may but 
raise a reproach on me, though it were to be my ruin. 

I may well appeal to the Hancur and justice of my wcrsi 
enemies in such cases as this. 

Conscia meus recti fanus nuduiacLi ridd. 



C OX C L U S I X 
BY THE PUBLISHER. 

HiLE this ii\js at the Press, and the copy "manuscript] 
:''.us far finished ; the author icas seized with a violent 
." .' ■'7- .v; '-i hereby he was disabled finishing 
.: .::;:^Ked in his further defence. And con- 
::':u:Kg now,f:r .z::i-e six weeks, in a weak and lan- 
guishing cor.Jtticn ; neither able :o go on, nor likely to recover (at 
least in any short time) : his friends thought it not fit to delay 
the publication of this any longer. If he recovers, he may be 
able to finish what he began. If not, it is the opinion of most 
'■at the treatment which he here complains of, and 
'■■: would have spoken of, have been the apparent 
cause of his disaster. 

FIX! S. 




THE 



True Born KnzHshman. 



A 



SATYR. 



'' Sta.tui7?ius pacem, et securitaiem, et concordiani judi- 
cium et justiiiam inter Anglos et Norman7ws, Francos, 
et Brit ones W allies et Coi'nubice, Pictos et Scotos Al- 
ba7iice ; siimliter inter Francos ct Insulanos, provincias 
et patrias, quce pertinent ad coroitam nostrum ; et inter 
oiJines nobis subjectos firmiter et inviolabiliter obseT^'ari." 
— Charta Regis Wilheli^ii Conquisitoris de Pads 
Pub lie a, cap. i. 



Printed In the Year M D C C I. 



no 



\The Title-page of this piece is apparently that of the first edition ; but 
the text given is the revised one of 1703. In the Preface to which, Defoe 
thus writes. 

No Author is now capable of preserving the purity of his style, no, 
nor the native product of his thought to Posterity : since, after the first 
edition of his Work has shewn itself, and perhaps sinks in a few hands, 
piratic Printers or hackney Abridgers fill the World ; the first, with 
spurious and incorrect copies, and the latter with imperfect and absurd 
representations, both in fact, style, and design. 

It is in vain to exclaim at the villainy of these practices, while no law 
is left to punish them. 

The Press groans under the unhappy burden, and yet is in a strait 
between two mischiefs : 

1 . The tyranny of a Licenser. This, in all Ages, has been a method 
so ill, so arbitrary, and so subjected to bribery and Parties, that the 
Government has thought fit, in justice to the Learned Part of the 
World, not to suffer it : since it has always been shutting up the 
Press to one side, and opening it to the other ; which, as Afiairs are 
in England often changing, has, in its turn, been oppressive to 
both. 

2. The unbridled liberty of invading each other's property. And this 
is the evil the Press now cries for help in. 

To let it go on thus, will, in time, discourage all manner of Learning ; 
and authors will never set heartily about anything, when twenty years' 
study shall immediately be sacrificed to the profit of a piratical printer, 
who not only ruins the author, but abuses the Work. 

I shall trouble myself only to give some instances of this in my own 
case. 

As to the abusing the Copy, the Trtte Born Englishman is a remark- 
able example. By which, the Author, though in it he eyed no profit, had 
he been to enjoy the profit of his own labour, had gained above a ^i,odo 
[=;^2,ooo now']. A book, that besides Nine Editions of the Author, has 
been Twelve times printed by other hands : some of which, have been 
sold for a Penny ; others, for Twopence ; and others, for Sixpence. The 
Author's Edition being fairly printed, and on good paper, could not be 
sold under a Shilling. 80,000 of the small ones have been sold in 
the streets for Twopence, or at a Penny : and the Author, thus abused 
and discouraged, had no remedy but patience. 

And yet he had received no mortification at this, had his Copy \inanu- 
scriptl been transmitted fairly to the World. But the monstrous abuses 
of that kind are hardly credible. Twenty, fifty, and in some places sixty 
lines were left out in a place : others were turned, spoiled, and so intoler- 
ably mangled, that the parent of the brat could not know his own child. 

This is the thing complained of, and which I wait with patience, and 
not without hopes, to see rectified. 

A true Collection, &^c. Vol. II. Preface.'] 




1 1 1 



["Statuimus pacem, et sectiritatem, et concordiam judicium et 
jnstitiam inter A nglos et Normannos, Francos, et Britones W allies 
et CornubicB, Pictos et Scotos Albanice; similiter inter Francos et 
Insulanos,provincias etpatrias, quce pertinent ad coronam nostrum; 
et inter omnes nobis subjectos, firmiter et inviolabiliter observari." 
— Charta Regis Wilhelmi Conquisitoris de Pads Publica, 
cap. I. 

An 
Explanatory Preface, 

T IS not that I see any reason to alter my opinion 
in anything I have writ[ten], which occasions this 
Epistle] but I find it necessary, for the satisfaction 
of some Persons of Honour, as well as of Wit, to 
pass a short Explication upon it, and tell the 
World what I mean ; or rather, what I do not mean in some 
things, wherein I find I am liable to be misunderstood. 

I confess myself something surprised, to hear that I am 
taxed with bewraying my own nest, and abusing our nation 
by discovering the meanness of our Original, in order to make 
the English contemptible abroad and at home. In which, I 
think they are mistaken. For why should not our neighbours 
be as good as we to derive from ? 

And I must add, that had we been an unmixed nation, I 
am of opinion it had been to our disadvantage. For, to go 
no further, we have three nations about us, as clear from 
mixtures of blood as any in the world ; and I know not which 
of them I could wish ourselves to be like : I mean the Scots, 
the Welsh, and the Irish. And if I were to write a Reverse 
to the Satyr [satire], I would examine all the nations of 
Europe, and prove. That those nations which are most mixed 
are the best ; and have least of barbarism and brutality among 
them. And abundance of reasons might be given for it, too 
long to bring into a Preface. 

But I give this hint, to let the World know that I am far 
from thinking it is a Satyr upon the English Nation, to tell 
them they are derived from all the nations under heaven, that 
is, from several nations. Nor is it meant to undervalue the 



112 A True, and a True Born Englishman. \jfu\y^jol: 

original of English ; for we see no reason to like them worse, 
being the relicts of Romans, Danes, Saxons, and Normans, 
than we should have done if they had remained Britains, that 
is, if they had been all Welshmen. 

But the intent of the Satyr is to point at the vanity of those 
who talk of their antiquity ; and value themselves upon their 
pedigree, their ancient families, and being True Born : whereas 
it is impossible we should be True Born ; and, if v/e could, we 
should have lost b)^ the bargain. 

These sort of people, who call themselves True Born ; and 
tell long stories of their families; and, like a nobleman of 
Venice, think a foreigner ought not to walk on the same side 
of the street with them ; are owned to be meant in this Satyr. 
What they would infer from their long original, I know not : 
nor is it easy to make out, whether they are the better or the 
worse for their ancestors. 

Our English nation may value themselves for their Wit, 
Wealth, and Courage ; and I believe few nations will dispute 
it with them : but for long originals, and ancient tnte born 
families of English ; I would advise them to waive the discourse ! 

A True English man is one that deserves a character, and 
I have nowhere lessened him, that I know of: but as for a 
Tri(e Born English man, I confess I do not understand him ! 

From hence I only infer, That an English man, of all men, 
ought not to despise foreigners as such ; and I think the in- 
ference is just, since what They are to-day, We were yesterday ; 
and To-morrow, they will be like us. 

If foreigners misbehave in their several stations and em- 
ployments, I have nothing to do with that ! The laws are 
open to punish them equally wath natives, and let them have 
no favour ! But when I see the Town full of lampoons and 
invectives against Dutchmen, only because they are foreigners; 
and the King [William III.] reproached and insulted by 
insolent pedants and ballad-making poets, for employing 
foreigners, and for being a foreigner himself: I confess myself 
moved by it to remind our nation of their own original ; 
thereby to let them see what a banter is put upon ourselves 
in it ; since speaking of Englishmen ab origine, we are really 
all Foreigners ourselves ! 

I could go on to prove it is also impolitic in us to discourage 
foreigners; since it is easy to make it appear that the multi- 



?^i^.fo3.] Insular PREJUDICES AGAINST FOREIGNERS. 113 

tudes of foreign nations who have taken sanctuary here, have 
been the greatest additions to the wealth and strength of the 
nation : the essential whereof is in the number of its inhabi- 
tants. Nor would this nation ever have arrived to the degree 
of wealth and glory it now boasts of, if the addition of foreign 
nations, both as to manufactures and arms, had not been 
helpful to it. This is so plain, that he who is ignorant of it 
is too dull to be talked with. 

The Satyr therefore, I must allow to be just, till I am 
otherwise convinced. Because nothing can be more ridiculous 
than to hear our people boast of that antiquity ; which, if it 
had been true, would have left us in so much worse a condi- 
tion than we are now. Whereas we ought rather to boast 
among our neighbours, that we are part of themselves, of the 
same original as they but bettered by our climate; and, like 
our language and manufactures, derived from them, but im- 
proved by us to a perfection greater than they can pretend 
to. This we might have valued ourselves upon without vanity. 

But to disown our descent from them, to talk big of our 
ancient families and long originals, and to stand at a distance 
from foreigners like the Enthusiast in religion, with a *' Stand 
off! I am more holy than thou ! " this is a thing so ridiculous 
in a nation derived from foreigners as we are, that I could 
not but attack them as I have done. 

And whereas I am threatened to be called to a public 
account for this freedom, and the Publisher of this has been 
*'newspapered" into gaol already for it: though I see nothing 
in it for which the Government can be displeased ; yet if, at 
the same time, those people who, with an unlimited arrogance 
in print, every day affront the King, prescribe [to] the Par- 
liament, and lampoon the Government, may be either 
punished or restrained ; I am content to stand or fall by the 
Public Justice of my native country, which I am not sensible 
that I have anywhere injured. 

Nor would I be misunderstood concerning the Clergy, 
with whom if I have taken any license more than becomes a 
Satyr, I question not but those Gentlemen, who are Men of 
Letters as well as men of so much candour as to allow me 
a loose [liberty] at the crimes of the guilty ; without think- 
ing the whole Profession lashed, who are innocent. I pro- 
fess to have very mean thoughts of those Gentlemen, who 

n 3 



114 I HAVE NOT Place, Pension, or Prospect. [^ j%^fj°^3! 

have deserted their own principles, and exposed even their 
morals as well as loyalty ; but_ not at all to think it affects 
any but such as are concerned in the fact. 

Nor would I be misrepresented as to the ingratitude of the 
English to the King and his friends ; as if I meant the 
English as a Nation, are so. 

The contrary is so apparent, that I would hope it should 
not be suggested of me. And therefore when I have brought 
in Britannia speaking of the King, I suppose her to be the 
representative or mouth of the Nation as a body. 

But if I say we are full of such who daily affront the King 
and abuse his friends, who print scurrilous pamphlets, viru- 
lent lampoons, and reproachful public banters against both 
the King's person and his Government : I say nothing but 
what is too true. And that the Satyr is directed as such, 
I freely own ; and cannot say but I should think it very hard 
to be censured for this Satyr, while such remains unques- 
tioned and tacitly approved. That I can mean none but 
these, is plain from these few lines, page 27 [p. 143]. 

Ye Heavens, regard! Almighty JovE, look down 
A nd view thy injured Monarch on the throne ! 
On their ungrateful heads, due vengeance take, 
Who sought his A id, and then his Part forsake ! 

If I have fallen rudely upon our vices, I hope none but the 
vicious will be angry. 

As for writing for Interest, I disown it ! I have neither 
Place, nor Pension, nor Prospect ; nor seek none, nor will 
have none ! 

If matter of fact justifies the truth of the crimes, the 
Satyr is just. As to the poetic liberties, I hope the crime is 
pardonable ! I am content to be stoned, provided none will 
attack me but the innocent ! 

If my countrymen would take the hint, and grow better 
natured from my " ill-natured poem," as some call it ; I 
would say this of it ; that though it is far from the best 
Satyr that ever was written, it would do the most good that 
ever Satyr did. 

And yet I am ready to ask pardon of some Gentlemen too, 
who, though they are Englishmen, have good nature enough 
to see themselves reproved, and can hear it. These are 



j^iy^Sa.] The end of Satyr is Reformation. 115 

Gentlemen in a true sense, that can bear to be told of their 
fmix pas, and not abuse the Reprover. To such, I must say 
this is no Satyr. They are exceptions to the general rule : 
and I value my performance from their generous approbation 
more than I can from any opinion I have of its worth. 

The hasty errors of my Verse, I made my excuse for 
before : and since the time I have been upon it, has been but 
little, and my leisure less ; I have all along strove rather to 
make the Thoughts explicit than the Poem correct. How- 
ever, I have mended some faults in this edition [1703] ; and 
the rest must be placed to my account. 

As to Answers, Banters, True English Billingsgate; I will 
expect them till nobody will buy, and then the shop will be shut. 

Had I written it for the gain of the Press, I should have 
been concerned at its being printed again and again, by 
Pirates as they called them, and Paragraph-Men : but would 
they but do it justice, and print it true, according to the 
Copy ; they are welcome to sell it for a penny, if they please. 

Their Pence indeed are the End of their works. I will 
engage, if nobody will buy, nobody will write ! and not a 
Patriot Poet of them all now, will, in defence of his native 
country (which I have abused, they say), print an Answer io 
it, and give it about, for GOD's sake !J 



THE PREFACE. [S„^,t-: 

He End of Satyr is Reformation: and the Author 
though he doubts the work of conversion is at a general 
stop, has put his hand to the plow. 

I expect a storm of ill language from the fury of 
the Town, and especially from those whose English 
talent it is to rail. And without being taken for a conjurer, I 
may venture to foretell that I shall be cavilled at about my mean 
style, rough verse, flw^ incorrect language; tilings,! might indeed 
have taken more care in. Btit the book is printed, and though I 
see some fatdts, it is too late to mend them. And this is all I 
think needful to say to them. 



Kc^u 


^^ 



ii6 Defoe's experience of foreigners abroad. [j- 



Defoe, 
an. 1 701. 



Possibly somebody may take me for a Dutchman, in which they 
are mistaken. But I am one that would be glad to see English- 
men behave themselves better to strangers, and to Governors also ; 
that one might not be reproached in foreign countries, for belong- 
ing to a " nation that wants manners.'" 

I assure you, Gentlemen, strangers use us better abroad ; and 
we can give no reason but our ill-nature for the contrary here. 

Methinks, an Englishman, who is so proud of being called " a 
good fellow,^' should be civil: whereas it cannot be denied but 
we are, in many cases, and particidarly to strangers, the churlishest 
people alive. 

As to vices, who can dispute our intemperance, whilst an honest 
drunken man is a character in a man's praise ? All our Reform- 
ations are banters, and will be so until our Magistrates and 
Gentry reform themselves by way of example. Then, and not till 
then, they may be expected to punish others without blushing. 

As to our Ingratitude, I desire to be imder stood of that par- 
ticular people, who pretending to be Protestants, have all along 
endeavoured to reduce the Liberties and Religion of this nation 
into the hands of King James and his Popish powers ; together 
with such who enjoy the peace and protection of the present 
Government, and yet abuse and affront the King who procured it, 
and openly profess their uneasiness under him. These, by what- 
ever names or titles they are dignified or distinguished, are the 
people aimed at. Nor do I disown but that it is so much the 
temper of an Englishman to abuse his benefactor, that I could be 
glad to see it rectified. 

They who think I have been guilty of any error in exposing the 
crimes of my own countrymen to themselves, may, among many 
honest instances of the like nature, find the same thing in Mr. 
Cowley, in his Imitation of the second Olympic Ode of Pindar. 
His words are these : 

But in this thankless World, the Givers 

Are envied even by the Receivers : 
'Tis now the cheap and frugal fashion, 
Rather to hide, than pay an obligation. 

Nay, 'tis much worse than so ! 

It now an Artifice doth grow, 

Wrongs and Outrages to do ; 
Lest men should think we Owe. 



117 



THE INTRODUCTION. 

Peak, Satyr! For there 's none can tell like 

thee ! 
Whether 'tis Folly, Pride, or Knavery 
That makes this discontented land appear 
Less happy now in Times of Peace, than War ? 
Why civil feuds disturb the nation more 
Than all our bloody wars have done before ? 

Fools out of favour, grudge at Knaves in Place : 
And men are always honest in disgrace. 
The Court preferments make men knaves, in course ; 
But they which would be in them, would be worse ! 
'Tis not at Foreigners that we repine, 
Would Foreigners their perquisites resign ! 
The Great Contention 's plainly to be seen. 
To get some men put Out, and some put In. 
For this, our S[enator]s make long harangues, 
And floored M[ember]s whet their polished tongues. 
Statesmen are always sick of one disease. 
And a good Pension gives them present ease : 
That 's the specific makes them all content 
With any King and any Government. 
Good patriots at Court Abuses rail. 
And all the nation's grievances bewail ; 
But when the Sovereign Balsam 's once applied, 
The zealot never fails to change his Side ; 
And when he must the Golden Key resign, 
The Railing Spirit comes about again ! 



ii8 The Introduction. [?an°,toi; 

Who shall this bubbled nation disabuse, 
While they, their own felicities refuse ? 
Who at the wars, have made such mighty pother ; 
And now are falling out with one another ! 
With needless fears, the jealous nation fill. 
And always have been saved against their will \ 
Who fifty millions sterling have disbursed 
To be at peace, and too much plenty cursed 1 
Who their Old Monarch eagerly undo, 
And yet uneasily obey the New ! 

Search, Satyr ! search ! a deep Incision make ! 
The poison 's strong, the antidote 's too weak ! 
'Tis Pointed Truth must manage this dispute ; 
And downright English, Englishmen confute ! 
Whet thy just anger at the nation's pride ; 
And with keen phrase repel the vicious tide ! 
To Englishmen, their own beginnings shew. 
And ask them, " Why they slight their neighbours so ? ' 

Go back to elder Times and Ages past, 
And nations Into long oblivion cast ; 
To old Britannia's youthful days retire. 
And there for the True Born Englishmen inquire ! 
Britannia freely will disown the name ; 
A.nd hardly knows herself, from whence they came. 
Wonders that They, of all men, should pretend 
To birth and blood, and for a Name contend ! 

Go back to causes, where our follies dwell, 
And fetch the dark Original from hell ! 
Speak, Satyr ! for there 's none like thee, can tell. 



119 





The True Born Englishman. 

PART I. 

Herever god erects a House of Prayer, 
The Devil always builds a Chapel there ; 
And 'twill be found, upon examination. 
The latter has the largest congregation. 
For ever since he first debauched the mind, 
He made a perfect conquest of mankind. 
With Uniformity of Service, he 
Reigns with a general aristocracy. 
No Nonconforming Sects disturb his reign; 
For of his yoke, there 's very few complain 1 
He knows the Genius and the inclination, 
And matches proper sins for every nation. 
He needs no Standing Army Government, 
He always rules us by our own consent ! 
His laws are easy, and his gentle sway 
Makes it exceeding pleasant to obey. 
The list of his Vicegerents and Commanders 
Outdoes your C^sars or your Alexanders : 
They never fail of his infernal aid, 
And he 's as certain ne'er to be betrayed. 
Through all the world, they spread his vast command, 
And Death's eternal empire is maintained. 



\2oT H E True Born English ma n. \^^tlH 

They rule so politicly and so well, 
As if there were Lords Justices of Hell 1 
Duly divided, to debauch mankind. 
And plant infernal dictates in their mind. 

Pride, the first Peer, and President of Hell ; 
To his share, Spain, the largest province, fell. 
The subtle Prince thought fittest to bestow 
On these, the golden mines of Mexico, 
With all the silver mountains of Peru ; 
Wealth which, in wise hands, would the World undo ! 
Because he knew their Genius to be such, 
Too lazy and too haughty to be rich. 
So proud a people, so above their fate, 
That if reduced to beg, they'll beg in State ! 
Lavish of money, to be counted brave ; 
And proudly starve, because they scorn to save. 
Never was nation in the World before, 
So very rich, and yet so very poor. 

Lust chose the torrid zone of Italy, 
Where swelling veins o'erflow with livid streams, 
With heat impregnate from Vesuvian flames. 
Whose flowing sulphur forms infernal lakes ; 
And human body, of the soil partakes. 
There Nature ever burns with hot desires, 
Fanned with luxuriant air from subterranean fires. 
Here undisturbed, in floods of scalding lust, 
The infernal King reigns with infernal gust. 

Drunkenness, the darling favourite of hell, 

Chose Germany to rule ; and rules so well I 

No subjects more obsequiously obey ! 

None please so well, or are so pleased as they 1 

The cunning Artist manages so well, 

He lets them bow to heaven, and drink to hell. 



?an^itoi:] The True Born Engl ishma n . 121 

If but to wine and him, they homage pay, ] 

He cares not to what deity they pray ! I 

What God they worship most ! or in what way ! J 
Whether by Luther, Calvin, or by Rome, 
They sail for heaven : by wine, he steers them home ! 

Ungoverned Passion settled first in France, 
Where mankind lives in haste, and thrives by chance: 
A dancing nation, fickle and untrue ! 
Have oft undone themselves, and others too ; 
Prompt, the infernal dictates to obey ; 
And in hell's favour, none more great than they 1 

The Pagan World, he blindly leads away, 
And personally rules, with arbitrary sway. 
The mask thrown off, Flain Devil his title stands : 
And what elsewhere, he Tempts; he, here Commands ! 
There, with full gust, the ambition of his mind 
Governs, as he, of old, in heaven designed ! 
Worshipped as God, his paynim altars smoke, 
Embued with blood of those that him invoke. 

The rest, by Deputies, he rules as well, 
And plants the distant colonies of hell : 
By them, his secret power, he well maintains, 
And binds the World in his infernal chains. 

By zeal, the Irish ; and the Rush by folly : 
Fury, the Dane ; the Swede, by melancholy. 
By stupid ignorance, the Muscovite : 
The Chinese, by a child of hell called Wit. 
Wealth makes the Persian too effeminate ; 
And Poverty, the Tartars desperate. 
The Turks and Moors, by Mahomet he subdues ; 
And GOD has given him leave to rule the Jews. 
Rage rules the Portuguese ; and fraud, the Scotch ; 
Revenge, the Pole ; and avarice, the Dutch. 



122 The True Born Englishman, [fan^r^^:: 

Satyr, be kind ! and draw a silent veil ! 
Thy native England's vices to conceal. 
Or if that task 's impossible to do, 
At least be just, and shew her virtues too ! 
Too great, the first ! alas, the last too few ! 

England unknown as yet, unpeopled lay. 
Happy had she remained so to this day. 
And not to every nation been a prey ! 
Her open harbours and her fertile plains 
(The merchants' glory these, and those, the swains'), 
To every barbarous nation have betrayed her ! 
Who conquer her as oft as they invade her. 
So Beauty, guarded but by Innocence ! 
That ruins her, which should be her defence. 



Ingratitude, a devil of black renown. 
Possessed her very early for his own : 
An ugly, surly, sullen, selfish spirit, 
Who Satan's worst perfections does inherit. 
Second to him in malice and in force, 
All Devil without, and all within him worse. 



He made her first born race to be so rude, 
And suffered her to be so oft subdued. 
By several crowds of wandering thieves o'errun, 
Often unpeopled, and as oft undone : 
While every nation, that her powers reduced. 
Their language and manners soon infused. 
From whose mixed relics our compounded Breed 
By spurious generation does succeed : 
Making a Race uncertain and uneven. 
Derived from all the nations under heaven ! 



?an°itoi:] The True Born Englishman. 123 

The Romans first, with Julius C^sar came, 
Including all the nations of that name, 
Gauls, Greeks, and Lombards, and by computation, 
Auxiliaries or slaves, of every nation. 
With Hengist, Saxons; Danes with Sueno came; 
In search of plunder, not in search of fame. 
Scots, Picts, and Irish from the Hibernian shore; 
And Conquering William brought the Normans o'er. 

All these, their barbarous offspring left behind ; 
The dregs of armies, they, of all mankind : 
Blended with Britains who before were here. 
Of whom the Welsh have blest the character. 

From this amphibious ill-born mob began 
That vain ill-natured thing, an Englishman. 
The customs, surnames, languages, and manners 
Of all these nations are their own explainers ; 
Whose relics are so lasting and so strong, 
They have left a Shibboleth upon our tongue, 
By which, with easy search, you may distinguish 
Your Roman-Saxon-Danish-Norman English. 

The great invading * Norman let us know * Sqieror.^' 
What conquerors in after Times might do ! 
To every * musketeer, he brought to Town, ♦ Or Archer. 
He gave the lands which never were his own. 
When first, the English crown he did obtain ; 
He did not send his Dutchmen home again ! 
No re-assumption in his reign was known ; 
Davenant might there have let his book alone ! 
No Parliament, his army could disband ; 
He raised no money, for he paid in land 1 
He gave his Legions their eternal Station, 
And made them all freeholders of the nation ! 



Defoe. 
701. 



124 The True B rn E n g l i s h m a n . \j^^\ 

He cantoned out the country to his men, 

And every soldier was a denizen ! 

The rascals thus enriched, he called them, Lords ! | 

To please their upstart pride with new made words : \ 

And Domesday Book, his tyranny records. j 

And here begins our ancient pedigree 
That so exalts our poor Nobility ! 
'Tis that from some French trooper they derive, 
Who with the Norman Bastard did arrive. 
The trophies of the families appear : 
Some shew the sword, the bow, and some the spear. 
Which their Great Ancestor, forsooth ! did wear. 
These in the Heralds' Register remain, 
Their noble mean extraction to explain. 
Yet who the hero was, no man can tell 1 
Whether a drummer, or a Colonel ? 
The silent record blushes to reveal 
Their undescended dark Original ! 

But grant the best ! How came the change to pass, 
A True Born Etiglishnan, of Norman race ? 
A Turkish horse can shew more history 
To prove his well-descended family ! 
Conquest, as by the * Moderns 'tis exprest, *^'''af^lia.^^ 
May give a title to the lands possests : 
But that the longest sword should be so civil, 
To make a Frenchman, English ; that 's the Devil ! 

These are the heroes who despise the Dutch, 
And rail at new-come foreigners so much ! 
Forgetting that themselves are all derived 
From the most scoundrel race that ever lived ! 
A horrid crowd of rambling thieves and drones, 
Who ransacked kingdoms, and dispeopled towns ! 
The Pict and painted Britain, treacherous Scot ; 



Fan'^itoiG The True Born Englishman. 125 

By hunger, theft, and rapine hither brought ! 
Norwegian pirates, buccaneering Dane, 
Whose red-haired offspring everywhere remain ; 
Who, joined with Norman French, compound the breed 
From whence your True Born E7iglishmen proceed ! 

And lest, by length of time it be pretended. 
The climate may this modern breed have mended ; 
Wise Providence, to keep us where we are, 
Mixes us daily, with exceeding care ! 
We have been Europe's Sink ! the Jakes where she 
Voids all her offal outcast progeny. 
From our Fifth Henry's time, the strolling bands 
Of banished fugitives from neighbouring lands. 
Have here a certain sanctuary found : 
The eternal refuge of the vagabond ! 
Where, in but half a common Age of time, 
Borrowing new blood and manners from the clime. 
Proudly they learn all mankind to contemn, 
And all their race are True Born Englishmen ! 

Dutch, Walloons, Flemings, Irishmen, and Scots, 
Vaudois and Valtolines and Huguenots, 
In good Queen Bess's charitable reign. 
Supplied us with three hundred thousand men. 
Religion (God, we thank Thee !) sent them hither. 
Priests, Protestants, the Devil and all together ! 
Of all professions, and of every trade. 
All that were persecuted or afraid ; 
Whether for debt, or other crimes they fled, 
David at Hackilah was still their head. 

The offspring of this miscellaneous crowd 
Had not their new plantations long enjoyed. 
But they grew Englishmen, and raised their votes 
At foreign shoals of interloping Scots. 



126 The True Born Englishman. K'n^f^^; 

The Royal* Branch, from Pict land did succeed, * King james i. 
With troops of Scots, and scabs from North-by-Tweed. 
The seven first years of his pacific reign 
Made him and half his nation, Englishmen. 
Scots from the northern frozen banks of Tay, 
With packs and plods came Whigging all away; 
Thick as the locusts which in Egypt swarmed, 
With pride and hungry hopes completely armed : 
With native truth, diseases, and no money, 
Plundered our Canaan of the milk and honey. 
Here they grew quickly Lords and Gentlemen, 
And all their race are True Born Englishmen ! 

The Civil Wars, the common purgative 
Which always use to make the nation thrive, 
Made way for all the strolling congregation 
Which thronged in pious C[harle]s' Restoration. 
The Royal Refugee our breed restores 
With foreign Courtiers, and with foreign whores ; 
And carefully repeopled us again 
Throughout his lazy, long, lascivious reign. 
With such a blest and True, Born English fry 
As such illustrates our Nobility. 
A gratitude which will so black appear, 
As future Ages must abhor to hear ; 
When they look back on all that crimson flood, 
Which streamed in Lindsey's and Carnarvon's blood, 
Bold Stafford, Cambridge, Capel, Lucas, Lisle, 
Who crowned in death, his father's funeral pile : 
The loss of whom, in order to supply. 
With True Born English bred Nobility, 
Six bastard Dukes survive his luscious reign. 
The labours of the Italian Castlemaine, 
French Portsmouth, Tabby Scot, and Cambrian ; 
Besides the numerous bright and virgin throng 
Whose female glories shade them from my Song. 



ftn^i7oi:] The True Born Englishman. 127 

This offspring, if one Age they multiply, 
May half the House, with English Peers supply ! 
There, with true English pride, they may contemn 
ScHOMBERG and Portland, new made Noblemen. 

French cooks, Scotch pedlars, and Italian whores 
Were all made Lords, or Lords' progenitors. 
Beggars and bastards by this new creation, 
Much multipHed the P[eera]ge of the nation : 
Who will be all, ere one short Age runs o'er, 
As True Born Lords as those we had before. 

Then to recruit the Commons he prepares. 
And heal the latent breaches of the Wars. 
The pious purpose better to advance. 
He invites the banished Protestants of France. 
Hither, for GOD's sake, and their own, they fled : 
Some for religion came, and some for bread. 
Two hundred thousand pair of Wooden Shoes, 
Who (God be thanked !) had nothing left to lose, 
To Heaven's great praise, did for religion fly ; 
To make us starve our poor, in charity. 
In every port, they plant their fruitful train, 
To get a race of True Born Englishmen : 
Whose children will, when riper years they see. 
Be as ill-natured and as proud as we ! 
Call themselves English ! foreigners despise ! 
Be surly like us all, and just as wise ! 

Thus from a mixture of all kinds, began 
That heterogeneous thing, an Englishman. 
In eager rapes, and furious lust begot. 
Betwixt a painted Britain and a Scot ; 
Whose gendering offspring quickly learned to bow, 
And yoke the heifers to the Roman plow. 



128 The True Born Englishman. Kn^xto!: 

From whence a mongrel half-breed race there came 
With neither name or nation, speech or fame. 
In whose hot veins, new mixtures quickly ran, 
Infused betwixt a Saxon and a Dane. 
This nauseous brood directly did contain 
The well-extracted blood of Englishmen. 

Which medley cantoned in a Heptarchy, 
A rhapsody of nations to supply ; 
Among themselves maintained eternal wars, 
And still the Ladies loved the Conquerors. 

The western Angles, all the rest subdued ; 
A bloody nation barbarous and rude : 
Who by the tenure of the sword, possesst 
One part of Britain ; and subdued the rest. 
And as great things denominate the small, 
The conquering Part gave title to the Whole. 
The Scot, Pict, Britain, Roman, Dane submit. 
And with the English-Saxon all unite : 
And these the mixture have so close pursued, 
The very Name and Memory's subdued ! 
No Roman now, no Britain does remain ! 
(Wales strove to separate, but strove in vain) 
The silent nations undistinguished fall ! 
And Englishman 's the common Name for all. 
Fate jumbled them together, God knows how ! 
Whate'er they were, they 're True Bom English now ! 

The wonder which remains, is at our Pride, 
To value that which all \yise men deride ; 
For Englishmen to boast of Generation, 
Cancels their knowledge, and lampoons the nation I 

A True Born Englishman 's a contradiction ! 
In speech, an irony ! in fact, a fiction ! 



?an°i7ot:] The T fue B orn Englishman. 129 

A banter made to be a test of fools ! 
Which those that use it, justly ridicules. 
A metaphor invented to express 
A man akin to all the Universe 1 



For as the Scots, as learned men have said, 
Throughout the world their wandering seed have spread ; 
So open-handed England, 'tis believed. 
Has all the gleanings of the world received. 

Some think, of England 'twas, our Saviour meant ; 
The Gospel should, to all the world be sent : 
Since, when the blessed sound did hither reach, 
They to all nations might be said to preach. 

'Tis well that Virtue gives Nobility; 
How shall we else the Want of Birth and Blood supply ? 
Since scarce one Family is left alive. 
Which does not from some foreigner derive. 
Of sixty thousand English Gentlemen 
Whose Names and Arms in Registers remain ; 
We challenge all our Heralds to declare 
Ten Families which English Saxons are ! 

France justly boasts the ancient noble line 
Of Bourbon, Montmorency, and Lorraine. 
The Germans too their House of Austria shew, 
And Holland their invincible Nassau : 
Lines which in heraldry were ancient grown, 
Before the name of Englishman was known. 
Even Scotland too, her elder glory shews ! 
Her Gordons, Hamiltons, and her Monroes ; 
Douglas, Mackays, and Grahams, names well known 
Long before ancient England knew her own. 



I30 The True Born Englishman, \^^^,%Z 

But England, modern to the last degree, \ 
Borrows or makes her own Nobility ; \ 

And yet she boldly boasts of pedigree ! J 

Repines that foreigners are put upon her, 
And talks of her antiquity and honour ! 
Her S[ackvil]les, S[aviJles, C[eci]ls, Dela[me]res, \ 
M[OHU]NS and M[ontag]ues, D[ura]s, and V[ee]res; I 
Not one have English names, yet all are English Peers ! ) 
Your HouBLONS, Papillons, and Lethuliers ] 

Pass now for True. Born English Knights and Squires, V 
And make good Senate Members, or Lord Mayors, J 
Wealth (howsoever got) in England, makes 
Lords, of mechanics ! Gentlemen, of rakes ! 
Antiquity and Birth are needless here. 
'Tis Impudence and Money make a P[ee]r ! 

Innumerable City Knights we know, 
From Bluecoat Hospitals and Bridewell flow I 
Draymen and porters fill the City Chair ; 
And footboys, Magisterial purple wear ! 
Fate has but very small distinction set 
Betwixt the " Counter " and the Coronet. 
Tarpaulin L[or]ds, Pages of high renown. 
Rise up by poor men's valour, not their own ! 
Great Families, of yesterday, we shew ; 
And Lords, whose parents were, the Lord knows who ! 




131 




PART II. 




He Breed 's described. Now, Satyr, if you 
can, 

Their Temper shew ! for '* manners make 
the man." 

Fierce as the Britain, as the Roman brave ; 

A.nd less inclined to conquer than to save : 

Eager to fight, and lavish of their blood, 
And equally of Fear and Forecast void. 
The Pict has made them sour, the Dane, morose ; 
False from the Scot, and from the Norman worse. 
What honesty they have, the Saxons gave them ; 
And that, now they grow old, begins to leave them! 
The climate makes them terrible and bold. 
And English beef their courage does uphold : 
No danger can their daring spirit pall, 
A Iways provided that their belly 's full. 

In close intrigues, their faculty 's but weak ; 
For generally, whate'er they know, they speak ; 
And often their own counsels undermine 
By mere infirmity, without design : 
From whence, the Learned say, it does proceed, 
That English treasons never can succeed. 
For they 're so open-hearted, you may know 
Their own most secret thoughts, and others' too. 



132 The True Born Englishman. \^i^\ 

The Labouring Poor, in spite of double pay, 
Are saucy, mutinous, and beggarly. 
So lavish of their money and their time. 
That Want of Forecast is the nation's crime. 
Good drunken company is their delight. 
And what they get by day, they spend by night. 
Dull Thinking seldom does their heads engage ; 
But drink their Youth away, and hurry on old Age. 
Empty of all good husbandry and sense. 
And void of manners most when void of pence ; 
Their strong aversion to Behaviour 's such, 
They always talk too little or too much. 
So dull, they never take the pains to Think, 
And seldom are good-natured but in drink. 
In English Ale their dear enjoyment lies. 
For which, they '11 starve themselves and families ! 
An Englishmen will fairly drink as much 
As will maintain two families of Dutch. 
Subjecting all their labour to the pots ; 
The greatest artists are the greatest sots. 



The Country Poor do, by example, live : 
The Gentry lead them, and the Clergy drive. 
What may we not, from such examples hope ? 
The landlord is their God, the priest their Pope ! 
A drunken Clergy, and a swearing Bench, 
Have given the Reformation such a drench. 
As wise men think, there is some cause to doubt 
Will purge Good Manners and Religion out ! 



Nor do the poor alone their liquor prize ; 
The Sages join in this great sacrifice ! 
The learned men, who study Aristotle, 
Correct him with an explanation bottle ; 



Defoe. 
701, 



Snl^ilo!:] The True Born Englishman. 133 

Praise Epicurus rather than Lysander, 

And *Aristippus more than Alexander. * "^'^.^ .. 

drunkard s 

The Doctors, too, their Galen here resign, canary°' 

And generally prescribe specific wine. 

The Graduate's study 's grown an easier task, 

"While for the urinal, they toss the flask. 

The Surgeon's Art grows plainer every hour, 

And wine 's the balm which, into wounds they pour. 

Poets, long since, Parnassus have forsaken, 
And say the ancient bards were all mistaken. 
Apollo 's lately abdicate and fled, 
And good King Bacchus governs in his stead. 
He does the chaos of the head refine ; 
And Atom-Thoughts jump into Words by wine. 
The inspiration 's of a finer nature, 
As wine must needs excel Parnassus water. 

Statesmen, their weighty politics refine ; 
And soldiers raise their courages, by wine. 
Cecilia gives her choristers their choice. 
And lets them all drink wine to clear their voice. 

Some think the Clergy first found out the way, 
And wine 's the only Spirit, by which they pray : 
But others, less profane than such, agree 
It clears the lungs, and helps the memory. 
And therefore all of them Divinely think, 
Instead of study, 'tis as well to drink. 

And here I would be very glad to know, 
Whether our Asgilites may drink or no ? 
Th' enlightened fumes of wine would certainly 
Assist them much when they begin to fly ; 
Or, if a fiery chariot should appear, 
Inflamed by wine, they 'd have the less to fear I 



134 ^^^ True Born Englishman, g 



Defoe, 
an. i7oi> 



Even the Gods themselves, as mortals say, 
Were they on earth, would be as drunk as they. 
Nectar would be no more celestial drink ; 
They 'd all take wine, to teach them how to think. 
But English drunkards, gods and men outdo ! 
Drink their estates away, and senses too. 
Colon 's in debt, and if his friends should fail 
To help him out, must die at last in gaol. 
His wealthy uncle sent a hundred nobles 
To pay his trifles off, and rid him of his troubles. 
But Colon, like a True Born Englishman, ] 

Drank all the money out in bright champagne ; V 
And Colon does in custody remain. J 

Drunkenness has been the darling of the realm, 
E'er since a drunken Pilot* had the helm. t* Charles ii.j 

In their Religion, they are so uneven, 
That each man goes his own by-way to heaven ; 
Tenacious of mistakes to that degree, ] 

That every man pursues it separately ; V 

And fancies none can find the Way but he. J 
So shy of one another they are grown ; 
As if they strove to get to heaven alone. 
Rigid and zealous, positive and grave, 
And every grace but Charity, they have. 
This makes them so ill-natured and uncivil, 
That all men think an Englishman the Devil. 



Surly to strangers, froward to their friend, 
Submit to Love with a reluctant mind ; 
Resolved to be ungrateful and unkind. 
If, by necessity, reduced to ask. 
The Giver has the difficultest task : 
For what 's bestowed, they awkwardly receive ; 
And always take less freely than they give. 



fan^ifoi.'] The True Born Englishman. 135 

The Obligation is their highest grief, 
And never love, where they accept relief. 
So sullen in their sorrows, that 'tis known 
They '11 rather die than their afflictions own : 
And if relieved, it is too often true, 
That they '11 abuse their benefactors too. 
For in distress, their haughty stomach 's such. 
They hate to see themselves obliged too much. 
Seldom contented, often in the wrong; 
Hard to be pleased at all, and never long. 

If your mistakes, their ill opinion gain ; 
No merit can their favour re-obtain ! 
And if they 're not vindictive in their fury, 
'Tis their unconstant temper does secure ye ! 
Their brain 's so cool, their passion seldom burns; 
For all 's condensed before the flame returns : 
The fermentation 's of so weak a matter, 
The humid damps the fume, and runs it all to water. 
So though the inclination may be strong. 
They 're pleased by fits, and never angry long. 

Then if Good Nature shews some slender proof; 
They never think they have reward enough : 
But like our Modern Quakers of the Town, 
Expect your manners, and return you none. 

Friendship, th' abstracted Union of the Mind, 
Which all men seek, but very few can find. 
Of all the nations in the universe 
None talk on 't more, or understand it less ! 
For if it does their Property annoy ; 
Their Property, their friendship will destroy I 

As you discourse them, you shall hear them tell 
All things in which they think they do excel ; 



rO. Defoe. 



136 The True B or n E nglis h m a n . [jan.1701 

No panegyric needs their praise record : 

An Englishman ne'er wants his own good word ! 

His long discourses generally appear 
Prologued with his own wondrous Character. 
But first t' illustrate his own good name, 
He never fails his neighbour to defame ! 
And yet he really designs no wrong : 
His malice goes no further than his tongue. 
But pleased to tattle, he delights to rail, 
To satisfy the lechery of a tale. 

His own dear praises close the ample speech ; 
Tells you, how wise he is, that is, how rich ! 
For Wealth is Wisdom ! He that's rich is wise ! 
And all men learned, poverty despise! 
His generosity comes next. And then. 
Concludes that he 's a True Bom Englishman ! 
And they, 'tis known, are generous and free, 
Forgetting, and forgiving injury. 
Which may be true, thus rightly understood, 
" Forgiving ill turns, and forgetting good." 

Cheerful in labour, when they have undertook it ; 
But out of humour, when they 're out of pocket. 
But if their belly, and their pocket 's full, 
They may be phlegmatic, but never dull. 
And if a bottle does their brain refine. 
It makes their Wit as sparkling as their wine. 

As for the general vices which we find 
They 're guilty of, in common with mankind. 
Satyr, forbear ! and silently endure ! 
We must conceal the crimes we cannot cure. 

Nor shall my Verse, the brighter sex defame. 
For English Beauty will preserve her name I 
Beyond dispute, agreeable and fair, 



fan^itoij The True Born Englishman. 137 

And modester than other nations are. 

For when the vice prevails, the great temptation 

Is want of money more than incHnation. 

In general, this only is allowed: 

They 're something noisy, and a little proud. 

An Englishman is gentlest in command ; 
Obedience is a stranger in the land : 
Hardly subjected to the Magistrate, 
For Englishmen do all subjection hate. 
Humblest when rich, but peevish when they 're poor ; 
And think whate'er they have, they merit more. 

The meanest English plowman studies law. 
And keeps thereby the Magistrates in awe ; 
Will boldly tell them, what they ought to do. 
And sometimes punish their omission too. 

Their Liberty and Property 's so dear ; 
They scorn their Laws or Governors to fear ! 
So bugbeared with the name of Slavery, 
They can't submit to their own liberty ! 
Restraint from 111 is freedom to the wise, 
But Englishmen do all restraint despise ! 
Slaves to the liquor, drudges to the pots ; 
The mob are Statesmen, and their Statesmen sots. 

Their Governors, they count such dangerous things, 
That 'tis their custom to affront their Kings. 
So jealous of the Power their Kings possessed. 
They suffered neither Power nor Kings to rest : 
The bad, with force, they eagerly subdue ; 
The good, with constant clamours they pursue. 
And did King Jesus reign, they'd murmur too ! 
A discontented nation, and by far 



138 The True Born Englishman. \j^f^:. 

Harder to rule in times of peace than war. 

Easily set together by the ears, 

And full of careless jealousies and fears ; 

Apt to revolt, and willing to rebel, 

And never are contented when they 're well. 

No Government could ever please them long, 

Could tie their hands, or rectify their tongue ! 

In this, to ancient Israel well compared, 

Eternal murmurs are among them heard. 

It was but lately, that they were oppressed. 
Their Rights invaded, and their Laws suppressed; 
When, nicely tender of their liberty, 
Lord ! what a noise they made of Slavery ! 
In daily tumults shewed their discontent, 
Lampooned their King, and mocked his Government ; 
And if in arms they did not first appear, 
'Twas want of force, and not for want of fear. 
In humbler tones than English used to do. 
At foreign hands, for foreign aid they sue ! 

William, the great Successor of Nassau, 
Their prayers heard, and their oppressions saw ; 
He saw and saved them ! GOD and him, they praised ; 
To this, their thanks ; to that, their trophies raised. 
But glutted with their own felicities. 
They soon their new Deliverer despise ! 
Say all their praj^ers back ! their joy disown ! 
Unsing their thanks ! and pull their trophies down ! 
Their harps of praise are on the willows hung, 
For Englishmen are ne'er contented long. 

The Reverend Clergy too (and who'd ha' thought 
That they, who had such Non-Resistance taught. 
Should e'er to arms against their Prince be brought 1 
Who up to heaven did Regal Power advance, 



faol^ifoi:] The True Born Englishman. 139 

Subjecting English Laws to Modes of France, 
Twisting Religion so with Loyalty, 
As one could never live, and t'other die:) 
And yet, no sooner did their Prince design 
Their glebes and perquisites to undermine ; 
But (all their Passive Doctrines laid aside) 
The Clergy, their own principles denied ! 
Unpreached their Non-Resisting cant, and prayed 
To heaven, for help ; and to the Dutch, for aid ! 
The Church chimed all their doctrines back again ! 
And Pulpit Champions did the Cause maintain 1 
Flew in the face of all their former zeal, 
And Non-Resistance did at once repeal 1 

The Rabbis say, " It would be too prolix | 
To tie Religion up to Politics ! \ 

The Church's safety is suprema lex." J 

And so, by a new Figure of their own, 
Their former doctrines all at once disown : 
As laiws post facto, in the Parliament, 
In urgent cases have obtained assent ; 
But are as dangerous precedents laid by, 
Made lawful only by necessity. 

The Reverend Fathers then in arms appear, 
And Men of GOD become the Men of War 1 
The nation, fired by them, to arms apply ! 
Assault their Antichristian Monarchy 1 
To their due channel, all our laws restore ; 
And made things what they should have been before. 
But when they came to fill the Vacant Throne, 
And the pale Priests looked back on what they 'd done ; 
How English Liberty began to thrive, 
And Church of England Loyalty outlive ! 
How all their persecuting days were done. 
And their Deliverer placed upon the throne 1 



i.\o The True D o r n E ng i. i s n m a n. []^, 






The Priests, as Priests are wont to do, turned tail 1 

They 're Englishmen ! and Nature will prevail. 

Now, they deplore the ruins they have made. 

And murmur for the Master they betrayed. 

Excuse those crimes, they could not make him mend ; 

And suffer for the Cause they can't defend. 

Pretend they 'd not have carried things so high, 

And Proto-martyrs make for Popery. 

" Had the Prince done," as they designed the thing, 

" Had set the Clergy up, to rule the King ; 

Taken a donative for coming hither. 

And so had left their King and them together : 

We had," say they, " been now a happy nation ! " 

No doubt, we 'd seen a blessed Reformation ! 

For wise men say, " 'Tis as dangerous a thing, 

A Ruling Priesthood as a Priest-rid King!" 

And of all plagues, with which mankind are curst, 

Ecclesiastic Tyranny 's the worst. 

If all our former grievances were feigned ; 
King James has been abused ! and we trepanned ! 
Bugbeared with Popery and Power Despotic 1 
Tyrannic Government 1 and Leagues exotic I 
The Revolution 's a ** Fanatic " Plot ! 
W[iLLiAMJ, a tyrant, and K[ing] J[ames] was not ! 
A factious army and a poisoned nation 
Unjustly forced King James's Abdication I 

But if he did, the subjects' rights invade ; 
Then he was punished only, not betrayed I 
And punishing of Kings is no such crime. 
But Englishmen have done it, many a time ! 

When Kings, the Sword of Justice first lay down ; 
They are no Kings, though they possess the Crown 1 
Titles are shadows ! Crowns are empty things ! 



jL^it^:] The True B o r n E n g l i sh m a n. 141 

The Good of Subjects is the End of Kings! 

To guide in war, and to protect in peace. 

Where Tyrants once commence, the Kings do cease ! 

For Arbitrary Power 's so strange a thing. 

It makes the Tyrant, and unmakes the King. 

If Kings by foreign priests and armies reign, '\ 

And Lawless Power, against their oaths maintain, >• 

Then subjects must have reason to complain. j 

If oaths must bind us, when our Kings do ill ; 

To call in foreign aid is to rebel ! 

By force to circumscribe our lawful Prince, 

Is wilful treason in the largest sense ! 

And they who once rebel, most certainly, 

Their GOD, their King, and former oaths defy ! 

If we allow no maladministration 

Could cancel the allegiance of the nation; 

Let all our learned Sons of Levi try 

This Ecclesiastic riddle to untie ! 

How they could make a step to call the Prince, 

And yet pretend to Oaths and innocence ? 

By the first Address, they made beyond the sea, 
They 're perjured in the most intense degree ! 
And without scruple, for the time to come. 
May swear to all the Kings in Christendom 1 
And, truly, did our Kings consider all, 
They 'd never let the Clergy swear at all ! 
Their politic allegiance they 'd refuse ! 
For whores and Priests will never want excuse. 

But if the " Mutual Contract " was dissolved, 
The doubt 's explained, the difficulty solved. 
That Kings when they descend to tyranny, 
Dissolve the Bond, and leave the subject free ! 
The Government 's ungirt ! when Justice dies ; 



142 The True Born Englishman, [f. 

And Constitutions are nonentities. 
The nation 's all a mob ! There 's no such thing 
As Lords or Commons, Parliament or King ! 
A great promiscuous crowd, the Hydra lies, 
Till Laws revive, and Mutual Contract ties. 

A Chaos free to choose, for their own share. 
What Case of Government they please to wear. 
If to a King, they do the reins commit. 
All men are bound in conscience to submit ; 
But then that King must, by his oath, assent 
To Postulatas of the Government : 
"Which if he breaks, he cuts off the entail, 
And Power retreats to its Original. 

This Doctrine has the sanction of assent. 
From Nature's universal Parliament ; 
The Voice of Nations and the Course of Things 
Allow that Lav^s superior are to Kings. 
None but delinquents would have Justice cease, 
Knaves rail at Laws, as soldiers rail at peace ! 
For Justice is the End of Government, 
As Reason is the Test of Argument. 

No man was ever yet so void of sense 
As to debate the Right of Self-Defence : 
A principle so grafted in the mind. 
With Nature born, and does like Nature bind. 
Twisted with Reason, and with Nature too, 
As neither one, nor t'other can undo. 

Nor can this Right be less, when national ? 
Reasons which govern one, should govern all, 
Whate'er the dialect of Courts may tell. 
He that his Right demands, can ne'er rebel ! 



. Defoe, 
an. J 701. 



fan^itoi'.] The True Born Englishman, 143 

Which Right, if 'tis by Governors denied, 
May be procured by force, or foreign aid. 
For " Tyranny ! " 's a nation's Term of Grief; 
As folks cry "Fire ! " to hasten in relief: 
And when the hated word is heard about, 
All men should come to help the people out. 



Thus England cried. Britannia's voice was heard, 
And great Nassau to rescue her appeared. 
Called by the universal voice of Fate, 
GOD's and the People's Legal Magistrate. 

Ye Heavens, regard ! Almighty Jove, look down 
And view thy injured Monarch on the throne ! 
On their ungrateful hands the vengeance take, 
Who sought his Aid, and then his Side forsake ! 
Witness, ye Powers ! It was our Call alone, 
Which now our Pride makes us ashamed to own I 
Britannia's troubles fetched him from afar. 
To court the dreadful casualties of war : 
But where requital never can be made. 
Acknowledgment 's a tribute seldom paid 1 

He dwelt in bright Maria's circling arms. 
Defended by the magic of her charms 
From foreign fears, and from domestic harms. 
Ambition found no fuel for her fire ; 
He had what GOD could give, or man desire. 
Till Pity roused him from his soft repose, 
His life to unseen hazards to expose. 
Till Pity moved him in our Cause t'appear. 
Pity, that word which now we hate to hear ! 
But English Gratitude is always such. 
To hate the hand which does oblige too much. 



1 44 The T r ue Born E nglis hma n . [ji„°,^["°'; 

Britannia's cries gave birth to his intent, 
And hardly gained his unforeseen assent ; 
His boding thoughts foretold him, he should find 
The people fickle, selfish, and unkind : 
Which thought did to his royal heart appear 
More dreadful than the dangers of the war ; 
For nothing grates a generous mind so soon, 
As base returns for hearty service done. 

Satyr, be silent ! awfully prepare 
Britannia's Song and William's praise to hear ! 
Stand by, and let her cheerfully rehearse 
Her grateful vows in her immortal verse ! 
Loud Fame's eternal trumpet, let her sound ! 
Listen, ye distant poles, and endless round ! 
May the strong blast the welcome news convey 
As far as sound can reach, or spirit can fly ! 
To neighbouring worlds, if such there be, relate 
Our Hero's fame, for theirs to imitate ! 
To distant worlds of spirits, let her rehearse ! 
For spirits, without the help of voice converse. 
May angels hear the gladsome news on high, 
Mix with their everlasting symphony ! 
And hell itself stand in suspense, to know 
Whether it be the Fatal Blast or no ? 



BRITANNIA. 

He Fame of Virtue 'tis, for which I sound ; 
And Heroes, with immortal Triumphs crowned I 
Fame built on solid Virtue, swifter flies 
Than morning light can spread my Eastern skies ! 
The gathering air returns the doubling sound, 
And loud repeating thunders force it round ! 




fanl^itoi'.] The True Born Englishman. 145 

Echoes return from caverns of the deep : 

Old Chaos dreams on 't in eternal sleep ! 

Time hands it forward to its latest urn ; 

From whence it never, never shall return ! 

Nothing is heard so far, or lasts so long ; 

'Tis heard by every ear, and spoke by every tongue ! 

My Hero, with the sails of honour furled, 
Rises like the Great Genius of the world. 
By Fate and Fame wisely prepared to be 
The Soul of War, and Life of Victory. 
He spreads the Wings of Virtue on the throne, 
And every Wind of Glory fans them on. 
Immortal trophies dwell upon his brow. 
Fresh as the garlands he has won but now. 

By different steps, the high ascent he gains ; 
And differently that high ascent maintains. 
Princes for Pride and Lust of Rule make war. 
And struggle for the name of Conqueror. 
Some fight for Fame, and some for Victory ; 
He fights to save, and conquers to set free. 

Then seek no phrase, his titles to conceal; 
And hide with words, what actions must reveal! 
No parallel from Hebrew stories take ! 
Of Godlike Kings, my similies to make. 
No borrowed names conceal my living theme, 
But names and things directly I proclaim ! 
His honest Merit does his glory raise : 
Whom that exalts, let no man fear to praise ! 

k: 3 



146 The True Born Englishman. S^i^l 

Of such a subject no man need he shy; 

Virtue 's above the reach of flattery. 

He needs no character hut his own fame^ 

Nor any flattering titles but his name. 

William 's the name that 's spoke by ev'ry tongue ; 

William 's the darling subject of my Song ! 

Listen, ye virgins, to the charming sound, 

And in eternal dances hand it round ! 

Your early offerings to this altar bring, 

Make him at once a lover and a King ! 

May he submit to none, but to your arms ; 

Nor ever be subdued but by your charms ! 

May your soft thought for him be all sublime, 

And every tender vow he made for him ! 

May he be first in every morning thought, 

And Heaven ne'er hear a prayer, where he 's left out ! 

May every omen, every boding dream 

Be fortunate, by mentioning his name ! 

May this one charm, infernal powers affright, 

And guard you from the terrors of the night I 

May every cheerful glass, as it goes down 

To William's health, be cordial to your own ! 

Let every Song he chorused with his name, 
A nd Music pay her tribute to his fame ! 
Let every poet tune his artful verse ; 
And in immortal strains his deeds rehearse ! 
And may Apollo never more inspire 
The disobedient hard with his seraphic flre ! 
May all my sons their grateful homage pay ! 
His praises sing, and for his safety pray ! 



Defoe. 
701. 



faii^xloi'] The True Born Englishman. 147 

Satyr, return to our unthankful isle, 
Secured by Heaven's regard, and William's toil 1 
To both ungrateful, and to both untrue ; 
Rebels to GOD, and to Good Nature too 1 

If e'er this Nation be distressed again ; 
To whomsoe'er they cry, they'll cry in vain ! 
To Heaven, they cannot have the face to look. 
Or if they should, it would but Heaven provoke 1 
To hope for help from Man would be too much ; 
Mankind would always tell them of the Dutch ! 
How they came here our freedoms to maintain ; 
Were paid ! and cursed ! and hurried home again 1 
How by their aid, we first dissolved our fears ; 
And then our helpers damned for " Foreigners ! " 
*Tis not our English temper to do better ! 
For Englishmen think every man their debtor. 

'Tis worth observing, that we ne'er complained 
Of Foreigners, nor of the wealth they gained ; 
Till all their services were at an end ! 
Wise men affirm, " It is the English way, 
Never to grumble till they come to pay ; 
And then, they always think, their temper's such, 
The work 's too little, and the pay too much ! " 

As frighted patients, when they want a cure, 
Bid any price, and any pain endure ! 
But when the doctor's remedies appear; 
The cure's too easy, and the price too dear! 

Great Portland ne'er was bantered when he strove 
For Us, his Master's kindest thoughts to move ! 
We ne'er lampooned his conduct when employed, 
King James's secret counsels to divide ! 



148 The True Born Englishman, [jan°f,^o^. 

Then, we caressed him as the only Man 
Which could the doubtful Oracle explain I 
The only Hushai able to repel 
The dark designs of our Achitophel ! 
Compared his Master's courage, to his Sense ; 
The ablest Statesman, and the bravest Prince ! 
Ten years in English service he appeared, \ 

And gained his Master's and the World's regard : \ 
But 'tis not England's custom to reward ! ) 

The wars are over. England needs him not ! 
Now he 's a Dutchman, and the Lord knows what ! 

ScHOMBERG, the ablest soldier of his Age, 
With great Nassau did in our cause engage : 
Both joined for England's rescue and defence, 
The greatest Captain and the greatest Prince ! 
With what applause, his stories did we tell! 
Stories which Europe's volumes largely swell. 
We counted him an Army in our aid ; 
Where he commanded, no man was afraid ! 
His actions with a constant Conquest shine. 
From Villa Vitiosa to the Rhine ! 
France, Flanders, Germany, his fame confess ; 
And all the World was fond of him, but Us ! 
Our turn first served, we grudged him the command : 
Witness the grateful temper of the land ! 

We blame the K[ing] that he relies too much 
On strangers, Germans, Huguenots, and Dutch ; 
And seldom would his great Affairs of State 
To English Councillors communicate. 
The fact might very well be answered thus. 
He has so often been betrayed by us, 
He must have been a madman to rely 
On English Gentlemen's fidelity ! 



Fan^itoiG The True BornEnglis hma n. i 49 

For laying other arguments aside ; 
Tliis thought might mortify our English pride, 
That Foreigners have faithfully obeyed him ! 
And none but English have e'er betrayed him. 
They have our ships and merchants bought and sold, 
And bartered English blood for foreign gold! 
First, to the French, they sold the Turkey Fleet ; 
And injured Talmarsh next, at Camaret ! 
The King himself is sheltered for their snares, 
Not by his merit, but the crown he wears. 
Experience tell us, 'tis the English way, 
Their benefactors always to betray ! 



And lest examples should be too remote, 
A modern Magistrate, of famous note. 
Shall give you his own history, by rote. 
I'll make it out, deny it he that can ! 
His Worship is a True Born Englishman, 
In all the latitude that empty word 
By modern acceptation 's understood. 
The Parish Books, his great descent record ; 
And now, he hopes ere long to be a Lord ! 
And truly, as things go, it would be pity 
But such as he, should represent the City ! 
While robbery, for burnt offering he brings ; 
And gives to GOD, what he has stolen from Kings. 
Great monuments of charity he raises. 
And good St. Magnus whistles out his praises. 
To City gaols, he grants a Jubilee, 
And hires " Huzzas " from his own mobile. 



Lately he wore the Golden Chain, and Gown ; 
With which equipped, he thus harangued the Town, 



150 The True B orn E nglish m a n. [fau^^Jol" 



His fi7ie speech, &c. 

" With clouted iron shoes, and sheepskin breeches, 
More rags than manners, and more dirt than riches ; 
From driving cows and calves to Leyton Market, 
While of my greatness, there appeared no spark yet : 
Behold I come ! to let you see the pride 
With which exalted beggars always ride ! 

" Born to the needful labours of the plough ; 
The cart whip graced me, as the chain does now ! 
Nature and Fate, in doubt what course to take. 
Whether I should a Lord or ploughboy make, 
Kindly at last resolved, they would promote me, 
And first a Knave, and then a Knight they vote me. 
What Fate appointed, Nature did prepare ; 
And furnished me, with an exceeding care 
To fit me, for what they designed to have me : 
And every gift but Honesty, they gave me. 

" And thus equipped, to this proud town I came. 
In quest of bread, and not in quest of fame : 
Blind to my future Fate, a humble boy ; 
Free from the guilt and glory I enjoy. 
The hopes which my ambition entertained, 
Were in the name of Foot Boy all contained. 
The greatest heights from small beginnings rise : 
The gods were great on earth, before they reached the skies. 



" B[ack]well (the generous temper of whose mind 
Was always to be bountiful inclined), 
Whether by his ill fate or fancy led. 
First took me up, and furnish me with bread. 



fan^loi:] The True Born Englishman, 151 

The little services, he put me to, 

Seemed labours rather than they were truly so ; 

But always my advancement he designed, 

For 'twas his very nature to be kind. 

Large was his soul, his temper ever free, 

The best of masters and of men to me. 

And I (who was before decreed by Fate, 

To be made infamous as well as great), 

With an obsequious diligence obeyed him, 

Till trusted with his All ; and then betrayed him ! 

"All his past kindness, I trampled on; 
Ruined his fortunes, to erect my own ! 
So vipers in the bosom bred, begin 
To hiss at that hand first which took them in. 
With eager treachery, I his fall pursued, 
And my first Trophies were Ingratitude. 

" Ingratitude, the worst of human guilt, 
The basest action mankind can commit ! 
Which (like the sin against the HOLY GHOST) 
Has least of honour, and of guilt the most. 
Distinguished from all other crimes by this, 
That 'tis a crime which no man will confess ! 
That sin alone, which should not be forgiven 
On earth, although perhaps it may in heaven. 

" Thus my first benefactor I o'erthrew ; 
And how should I be, to a second true ? 
The Public Trust came next into my care. 
And I to use them scurvily prepare ; 
My needy Sovereign Lord I played upon, 
And lent him many of thousand of his own : 
For which great interests I took care to charge. 
And so my ill-got wealth become so large ! 



152 The True Born Englishman. \j^^^, 

" My predecessor, Judas, was a fool, 
Fitter to have been whipt and sent to school, 
Than sell a Saviour ! Had I been at hand. 
His Master had been so cheap trapanned ! 
I would ha' made the eager Jews ha' found, 
For Thirty pieces, Thirty Thousand pound ! 

" My cousin ZiBA, of immortal fame 
(ZiBA and I shall never want a name !), 
First Born of treason, nobly did advance 
His Master's fall, for his inheritance. 
By whose keen arts, old David first began 
To break his sacred oath to Jonathan. 
The good old King 'tis thought was very loth 
To break his Word, and therefore broke his Oath ! 
ZiBA 's a traitor of some Quality ; 
Yet ZiBA might ha' been informed by me ! 
Had I been there, he ne'er had been content 
With half the estate, nor half the Government ! 

" In our late Revolution, 'twas thought strange. 
That I, of all mankind, should like the change 1 
But they who wondered at it, never knew 
That, in it, I did my old game pursue ; 
Nor had they heard of Twenty thousand Pound, 
Which ne'er was lost, yet never could be found I 

" Thus all things in their turn, to sale I bring, 
GOD and my Master first ; and then the King! 
Till by successful villainies made bold, 
I thought to turn the nation into gold : ' 
And so to forg[er]y my hand I bent. 
Not doubting I could gull the Government : 
But that was ruffled by the Parhament ! 
And if I 'scaped the unhappy tree to climb, 
'Twas want of Law, and not for want of Crime. 



?an°i1oi.] The True Born Englishman, 153 

" By my * Old Friend, who printed in my face ♦xheDevii. 
A needful competence of English brass, 
Having more business yet for me to do, 
And loth to lose his trusty servant so, 
Managed the matter with such art and skill, 
As saved his hero, and threw out the b[i]ll. 



" And now, I am graced with unexpected honours ; 
For which, I'll certainly abuse the donors ! 
Knighted, and made a Tribune of the people, 
"Whose Laws and properties I'm like to keep well 1 
The Custos Rotulorum of the City 
And Captain of the Guards of their bandittis 
Surrounded by my Catchpoles, I declare 
Against the needy debtor, open war. 
I hang poor thieves for stealing of your pelf ; 
And suffer none to rob you, but myself! 

** The King commanded me to help reform ye ! 
And how I'll do it. Miss shall inform ye ! 
I keep the best Seraglio in the nation. 
And hope in time to bring it into fashion. 
Am not I a Magistrate for Reformation ! 

For this my praise is sung by every bard, 
For which Bridewell would be a just reward ! 
In print my panegyrics fill the street. 
And hired gaol-birds, their huzzas repeat. 
Some charity 's contrived to make a shew : 
Have taught the needy rabble to do so ! 
Whose empty noise is a mechanic fame. 
Since for Sir Beelzebub, they 'd do the same ! " 



154 The True Born Englishman.]]^ 



Defoft, 
an. 1 701. 




The Conchision. 

Hen let us boast of ancestors no more ! 

Or deeds of heroes done in days of yore ; 

In latent records of the Ages past, 

Behind the rear of Time, in long Oblivion 
placed ! 

For if our Virtues must in lines descend, 
The merit with the families would end ; 
And intermixtures would most fatal grow. 
For Vice would be hereditary too ! 
The tainted blood would of necessity, 
In voluntary wickedness convey 1 

Vice, like ill-nature, for an Age or two, 
May seem a generation to pursue : 
But Virtue seldom does regard the breed, 
Fools do the Wise, and wise men Fools succeed. 
What is it to us, what ancestors we had ? 
If good, what better? or what worse, if bad ? 
Examples are for imitation set, 
Yet all men follow Virtue with regret ! 

Could but our ancestors retrieve their fate. 
And see their offspring thus degenerate ; 
How we contend for birth and names unknown, 
And build on their past actions, not our own : 
They 'd cancel records, and their tombs deface. 
And openly disown the vile degenerate race ! 

For fame of Families is all a cheat 1 
'Tis Personal Virtue only makes us great 1 



THE 

HISTORY 



OF THE 



Kentish 



PETITION. 



LONDON, Printed in the Year, 1701 






157 

THE PREFACE. 

Would be hard to suspect him of errors in fact, 
who writes the Story of Yesterday. A Historian of 
Three Weeks must certainly be just, for had he never 
so much mind to lie, it would be nonsense to expect 
the World could be imposed upon. Everybody's 
memory would be a living witness against him, and the effect 
would only be to expose himself. 

Authors of Histories generally apologise for their Quotations, 
place their industry in the search after Truth, and excuse them- 
selves by asserting the faithfulness of their Collections. The 
Author of the following sheets is not afraid to let the World know 
that he is so sure everything related in this Account is literally 
and positively true, that he challenges all the Wit and Malice the 
World abounds with, to confute the most trifling circumstance. 

If aggravations are omitted, and some very ill-natured passages 
let go without observations, those persons who were guilty of them, 
may observe that we have more good nature than they have 
manners : and they ought to acknowledge it, since a great many 
rudenesses, both against the King himself and the Gentlemen con- 
cerned, have escaped their scurrilous mouths, which are not here 
animadverted upon. 

And lest the World should think this presumptive, and that the 
accusation is only a surmise ; we will query. What they think of 
that kind remark of Mr. J. H[o]w[e], finding the King's Letter 
to the House, and the Kentish Petition to come both on a day, 
and the substance to be the same, that " the King, the Dutch, and 
the Kentish men were all in a plot against the House of Commons! " 

I could have swelled this Pamphlet to a large Volume, if I 
should pretend to collect all the Billingsgate language of a certain 
House full of men, against the King, the Lords, and the Gentle- 
men of Kent ; but it is a fitter subject for a Satyr than a History. 
They have abused the nation, and now are become a Banter to 
themselves ; and I have them to consider of it, and reform ! 

I assure the World, I am no Kentish man ; nor was my hand 
to the Petition ; though, had I been acquainted with it, I would 
have gone a hundred miles to have signed it, and a hundred more 
to have had the opportunity of serving my Country at the expense 
of an unjust confinement for it. 



158 The Jacobites drinking to Jack Howe, [j^xy !lll: 

It may be fairly concluded, I am no Warwickshire man neither, 
with a Petition in my pocket, brought a hundred miles, and afraid 
to deliver it. 

Nor [is] my name Sir Robert Clayton : by which you may 
know I did not promise the Members, who were then in fear 
enough, to use my Interest to stifle a City Petition. 

Nor is my name Legion, I wish it were ! for I should have 
been glad to be capable of speaking so much truth, and so much to 
the purpose, as is contained in that unanswerable Paper [Legion's 
Memorial, s^5 /)/>. 179-186]. 

But I am an unconcerned Spectator, and have been an exact 
Observer of every passage, have been an Eye and Ear-Witness of 
every most mimite article, and am sure that everything related is 
exactly true, as the causes of it all are scandalous and burdensome 
to the nation. 

As to the Gentlemen of the House of Commons, I shall not 
pretend to enter into their character, because I care not to enter 
into captivity ! nor come into the clutches of that worst of brutes, 
their Sergeant ! 

Literally speaking, no Member of the House of Commons can 
be a Jacobite, because they have taken the oaths to King WiLLlAM. 

But this may be observed, that the Jacobites in England are 
generally the only people who approve of their proceedings, and 
applaud their measures. And it is observable that at Paris, at St. 
Germains, the general compliment of a Health in all English 
company is a la sante [de] Monsieur Jack HoWlE] ! the truth of 
which, there are not a few very good Gentlemen in Town can attest, 
from whence I think I may draw this Observation, that either he is 
a Jacobite, or the Jacobites are a very good-natured people. 

Noscitur ex socio qui non dignoscitur ex se. 

The following pages contain an exact History of the Kentish 
Petition, and of the treatment the Gentlemen who presented it, 
met with both from the House, the Sergeant, and at last, from their 
ountry. 

The best way to come to a conclusion, whether the Gentlemen 
Petitioners were well or ill used, is to review the matter of fact ? 
A II panegyrics and encomiums came short of the natural reflections 
which flow from a True Account of that proceeding : and the whole 
is collected in this form, that all the World may judge by a true 
light, and not be imposed upon by partial and imperfect Relations. 



159 

THE 

HISTORY 

OF THE 

Kentish 




PETITION. 

N THE 29th of April, 1701, the Quarter 
Sessions for the County of Kent, began at 
Maidstone : where William Colepeper 
of Hollingbourne, Esq., was chosen Chair- 
man, though he was then absent; and, 
with an unusual respect, the Bench of 
Justices proceeded to do business, and 
kept the Chair for him for several hours, 
till he came. 

The people of the County of Kent, as well as in most 
parts of the Kingdom, had expressed great dissatisfaction at 
the slow proceedings of the Parliament ; and that the King 
was not assisted, nor the Protestants abroad considered : 
and the country people began to say to one another, in their 
language, that " they had sowed their corn, and the French 
were a-coming to reap it ! " 

And from hence it is allowed to proceed that, during the 
sitting of the Sessions, several of the principal freeholders of 
the County applied themselves to the Chairman aforesaid, 
and told him, " It was their desire that the Bench should 
consider the making of some application to the Parliament, 
to acquaint them of the apprehensions of the people." 

The Chairman replied, " It was the proper work of the 
Grand Jury to present the grievances of the Country " ; and 
therefore he referred them to the said Grand Jury, who were 
then sitting. 

The Grand Jury being applied to, accepted the proposal ; 
and addressing to the said Mr. Colepeper, the Chairman, 
acquainted him that they had approved of such a motion 



i6o The origin of the Kentish Petition. [jlii^'Jo^ 

made as before, and desired that the Bench would join with 
them. 

The Chairman told them, he would acquaint the Justices 
of it ; which he did : and they immediately approved of it 
also, and desired the said W. Colepeper, Esq., their Chair- 
man, to draw a Petition. 

Mr. Colepeper withdrew to compose it, and having 
drawn a 'Petition, it was read and approved : and immediately 
ordered to be carried to the Grand Jury, being twenty-one in 
number, who all unanimously signed it, and brought it into 
Court, desiring all the Gentlemen on the Bench would do 
the same. 

Whereupon the Chairman and twenty-three of the Justices 
signed it ; and the freeholders of the County crowded in so 
fast, that the parchment was filled up in less than five hours' 
time : and many thousands of hands might have been had 
to it, if the Justices had not declined it, refusing to add any 
more rolls of parchment ; as insisting more upon the merits 
of the Petition, than the number of the subscribers. 

By all which, it appears how foolish and groundless their 
pretences are, who would suggest that the Petition was a 
private thing, transacted by a few people ; whereas it is 
plain, it was the Act and Deed of the whole Country. 

The words of the Petition are, as follows. 

To the Knights, Citizens, and Burgesses in Parliament 
assembled. 

The humble Petition of the Gentlemen, Justices of the Peace, 
Grand Jury, and other freeholders, at the General Quarter 
Sessions of the Peace holden at Maidstone, the 2gth of April, in 
the i^th year of the reign of our Sovereign Lord, King 
William III., over England, &c. 

E, THE Gentlemen, Justices of the Peace, Grand Jury, 
and other freeholders, at the General Quarter Sessions 
at Maidstone, in Kent, deeply concerned at the 
dangerous estate of this Kingdom and of all Europe, 
and considering that the fate of us and onr posterity 
depends on the wisdom of our Representatives in Parliament, 
think ourselves bound in duty, humbly to lay before this Honour- 
able House, the co^isequences in this conjuncture of your speedy 




?ui?itoi] The five Gentlemen who presented it. i6i 

resolution and most sincere endeavour to answer the Great Trust 
reposed in you by your country. 

And in regard that, from the experience of all ages, it is 
manifest no nation can he great and happy without Union ; We 
hope that no pretence whatsoever shall he ahle to create a mis- 
understanding among ourselves, or the least distrust of His 
Majesty, whose great actions for this nation are written in the 
hearts of his subjects, and can never, without the blackest ingrati- 
tude, he forgotten. 

We most humbly implore this Honourable House, to have 
regard to the Voice of the People I that our religion and safety 
maybe effectually provided for, that your Loyal Addresses may 
he turned into Bills of Supply, and that His most sacred Majesty 
(whose propitious and unblemished reign over us, We pray GOD 
long to continue !) may be enabled powerfidly to assist his 
Allies, before it be too late. 

And your Petitioners shall ever pray &c. 
Signed by all the Deputy Lieutenants 

there present, above twenty Justices 

of the Peace, and all the Grand Jury, 

and other freeholders then there. 

As soon as the Petition was signed, and there was no more 
room for any hands [signatures], it was delivered by the 
Grand Jury to the aforesaid William Colepepsr, Esq., 
Chairman of the Session ; and he was desired to present it, 
in their names, to the Parliament : which, at their request, 
he promised to do. And the rest of the Gentlemen, viz., 
Thomas Colepeper, Esq., Justinian Champneys, Esq., 
David Polehill, Esq., and William Hamilton, Esq., 
offered themselves to go with him. 

On Tuesday, the 6th of May, they came to Town, with the 
Petition; and the next day, they went up to the House, and 
applied themselves to Sir Thomas Hales, in order to desire 
him to present it to the House : he being one of the Repre- 
sentatives of the County of Kent. 

Sir Thomas read the Petition, and telling them it was too 
late to present it that day, it being after twelve a clock, 
desired they would let him shew it [to] Mr. Pelham of 
Sussex. 



i62 Sir T. Hales betrays his County, [f^^f'^ 



Defoe 
701. 



Mr. CoLEPEPER told him, he was willing enough Mr. 
Pelham should see the Petition, not doubting he would be a 
friend to it : but that he was unwilling to part with it, being 
entrusted with it by his Country; adding that he "should 
make but an indifferent figure in the County, if the Petition 
should be got out of his hands, and lost." 

Whereupon, Sir Thomas Hales passed his word and 
honour, that he would not shew it to any person whatever, 
but to Mr. Pelham ; and that he would return it imme- 
diately. But his word and honour so solemnly pledged, 
were as easily forgotten. For having got the Petition, he 
carried it into the House, where he stayed an hour and a 
half; and then returning, he gave it to the Gentlemen, and 
told them he had shewn it to Sir Edward Seymour and 
several others. 

This perfidious action [towards] that very part of the nation 
which he represented, deserves some special notice ; and 
there is no question but the people will remember it for him, 
and shew their resentment on proper occasions. 

Mr. CoLEPEPER, in the name of the rest, gave him an 
answer suitable to the action ; and sufficient to let him 
know their surprise at so ungentleman-like usage : viz., 
that '* he had broke his word, and served his Country very 
ill ! " 

But this being neither place nor season for further 
debates, Sir Thomas Hales appointed to meet them in the 
evening : and then, after making them wait two hours 
beyond his time, he adjourned them till next morning, in the 
Court of Requests ; where he told them absolutely, that he 
** would not deliver the Petition." 

Here it is very observable, that, at the very time Sir 
Thomas Hales came out of the House, and returned the 
Petition in the manner above mentioned, Mr. Meredith, the 
other Representative for the Country, came to them, and 
told them " their Petition had been exposed in the House, 
and that Mr. How[e] was then making a speech against it." 

The Gentlemen finding themselves thus betrayed by Sir 
Thomas Hales, consulted together about finding another 
more proper person to deliver the Petition ; and resolved to 
apply themselves to Mr. Meredith, the other Member for 
the County of Kent. Mr. Meredith having agreed to 



?ui?.toi:] The swaggering threats of the Majority. 163 

deliver it, in case Sir Thomas Hales should refuse, had 
appointed to meet them, with several other Gentlemen, 
Members of the House, in order to consult about the matter 
of the Petition, and the manner of delivering it. 

In the morning [Wednesday, ytli May, 1701], the House 
being met; Mr. Meredith came out, and told them that 
** the House was in such a ferment, that none of the 
Gentlemen durst appear for it, nor come to them ; and he 
doubted [feared] would not venture so much as to speak a 
word in the House for the Petition." 

Nor were these all the discouragements the Gentlemen 
met with, in their presenting the Petition : but several 
Members of the House pretending respect, and others that 
were really their friends and in concern for them, came out 
of the House to them, and endeavoured to persuade them, 
not to expose themselves to the fury of the House, by deliver- 
ing the Petition. Telling them, that Mr. How[e] in par- 
ticular had said, that, " if there were one hundred thousand 
hands to the Petition, they should be all made examples of! " 
and Sir Edward Seymour added that " the whole County 
should be double taxed ; and the estates of those who pre- 
sented it, should be confiscated to the use of the War." 

Although these menaces, together with the almost omni- 
potent power of the House of Commons, had circumstances 
enough in them to shake the resolution of a whole County ; 
yet they had not the effects here which were expected. For 
the Gentlemen, far from being terrified at all this, unani- 
mously declared their resolution to discharge the trust placed 
in them by their Country, and to present it to the House. 

Mr. William Colepeper, in particular, alluding to the 
words of Luther, to those who dissuaded him from going to 
the city of Worms, told them that, " if every tile upon the 
Chapel of * St. Stephen's were a devil, he would * The House 
present the Petition ! " And all of them declared mons^tPn^wks 
that, " if one of the Gentlemen would not do their formerly st. 

' . . Stephen s 

Country so much service, as to present their chapei. 
grievances to the Parliament in a legal Petition ; they would 
knock at the door of the House, and deliver it themselves ! " 
Mr. Meredith finding the Gentlemen so resolute, did 
consent to carry in the Petition ; which he performed with 
great discretion and fidelity. 



164 Speech of the Speaker to the Kentish Men.P,' 



rDefo*. 

701. 



The Petition being thus delivered, the Gentlemen attended. 
For Mr. Speaker [Robert Harley] further to intimidate 
them, had let fall some speeches, that " it was the usage of 
the House, when a Petition was brought in, the persons who 
presented it, ought to be ready without, to justify the matter 
of their Petition.'' 

And the Gentlemen, seeing no reason to be ashamed of 
theirs in particular, resolved to bide the utmost which their 
and the nation's enemies could do to them. 

Having waited almost half an hour, they were called in to 
the Bar of the House; where (Mr. Speaker, treating them in 
his usual haughty tone) this short dialogue passed between 
them : 

Speaker. {Holding up the Petition by one corner.) 

Gentlemen, is this your Petition ? 
Gentlemen. {Bowing very respectfully.) Yes, Mr. Speaker. 
Speaker. And, Gentlemen, you own this Petition ? 

Gentlemen. Yes, Mr. Speaker. 
Speaker. And, Gentlemen, your Hands are to this 

Petition ? 
Gentlemen. Yes, Mr. Speaker. 
Speaker. {Turning to one of the Clerks.) Carry it to 

them, and see if they will own their Hands ! 

{Which they severally did.) 
Speaker. Withdraw, and expect the Order of the 

House ! 
Whereupon they withdrew, and attended in the Lobby. 

And now began the second attack, upon the[ir] resolution : 
for the Members, who came out, represented with all the terror 
imaginable, the fury of the House. Imprisonment and the 
:uin of their fortunes and families was the least they had to 
expect ; Impeachments, Laws ex post facto, tacking them to 
Money Bills ; and all arbitrary methods which any arbitrary 
Parliarnent have ever made use of to ruin those who have 
felt their magnipotent indignation, were laid before them. 

When some, who pretented pity for the misfortune of so 
many worthy Gentlemen, came out of the House, and told 
them, "they had yet a lucky moment left them, by an 
immediate submission, to fly to the clemency of the House ! " 
that •' they were sent out by Sir Edward Seymour and the 



jui^itoi.] Pressure put on the Five to retract. 165 

rest of the Gentlemen on that side, to let them know that Mr. 
How[eJ was now speaking, and would continue so for some 
time, to give them opportunity to recollect themselves, and 
by a timely acknowledgement to save themselves from ruin : 

The Gentlemen being at a loss to know in what particular 
they could have given the House such offence, and being 
well assured they were in the protection of the Law, and had 
not acted anything but what the known Constitution of the 
Realm expressly allowed, remained still unshaken ; and 
boldly replied " They had nothing to say, but what was in 
their Petition ! " 

But being further pressed by Sir Theophilus Oglethorp 
and several other Gentlemen ; and because they would not 
shew any disrespect to the House, or seem to slight their 
displeasure; they considered of an Answer to be given to the 
proposal of Submission. 

And because whatever Answer they gave, might be mis- 
represented to the House ; [if] delivered by word of mouth ; 
they resolved to put it into writing, and having consulted 
a while, they agreed to send in this civil Answer. 

We are humbly of opinion that it is our Right to petition this 
honourable House, according to the Statute of 13 Car. II. As to 
the matter of our Petition; we declare that we intend nothing 
offensive to this honourable House. 

This writing being shewn to Sir Theophilus Oglethorp 
and several other Members, then began to smile, and 
imagined their point gained ; and told the Gentlemen, " they 
were glad they begun to be sensible of their danger, and that 
if they would but add one word more, namely, that they were 
sorry for what they had done, they would undertake [guarantee] 
for the clemency of the House." 

Thus they unanimously refused : one of the Gentlemen, 
with some heat replying, '* We will have no sorry ! " 

Here the Members, or conspirators rather, would have 
had them put it, that they did it through inadvertency. 

This they also refused, declaring they did it, at the request 
of their Country, maturely and deliberately; were justified 
in doing it, by the Laws of the land, and they would never 
recede from it. 

So they delivered the Paper to Sir Thomas Hales ; but 



1 66 Committed to the Sergeant at Arms, (jui^rjot 

whether he delivered it to the House or not, he never had 
the civility to inform them. 

The debate in the House held five hours. After which, 
notice was given them by the Messengers, that the House 
had voted the Petition scandalous, insolent, and seditious {vide 
the Votes), tending to destroy, &c. ; and ordered them to be 
taken into custody for the same. 

Upon which, the Gentlemen went, and immediately 
surrendered themselves to the Sergeant, though the Warrant 
was not made out for some hours after. 

The Sergeant only asked, Where he should come to them, 
at dinner ? which was agreed to be at the Castle Tavern, in 
Fleet street. 

Where they dined, on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday ; 
and were hitherto very civilly treated of his Officers. They 
were accompanied by great numbers of citizens and Gentle- 
men of the first Quality, and not a few of the Nobility. The 
Officers were seldom with them, went errands for them ; and 
oftentimes were all absent together. So that there was no 
colour of reason for the Sergeant to say he feared a rescue. 
For they had all the opportunities they could desire, if they 
had had the least design to escape : and it was never heard 
of, that they who could escape when they pleased, would 
expose their friends to the hazard of a rescue. 

On Friday [gth May], in the evening, Mr. Sergeant begun 
to treat with them ; and representing his absolute power, let 
them know that he had an unbounded liberty of using them 
at discretion : that he could confine them at pleasure, put 
them in dungeons, lay them under ground, keep them 
apart, remove them daily, and keep all people from them by 
making them " close prisoners." 

He thereby gave them to understand that he expected a 
consideration suitable to his civility. Upon this, the Gentle- 
men offered him One Hundred Guineas : half in hand, and 
the other, when they should be discharged ; though it should 
be the next day. 

The Sergeant neither accepted nor refused the offer, nor 
expressed any dislike, as if he thought it too little: but 
appointed to come to them, the next day. 



fui^itoi:] Lodged inagarretandacellar. 167 

Saturday [10^^ May], in the evening, Mr. Thomas 
CoLEPEPER, having notice that his Lady was much frighted 
at his confinement, desired leave of the Messenger in whose 
custody he was, to let him go down to Maidstone, upon his 
parole to return by Monday night : which the Messenger 
tacitly granted. 

The rest of the Gentlemen being met at the tavern, 
expecting the Sergeant according to appointment, and having 
waited till ten a clock ; instead of coming himself, he sends 
orders to the Messengers to separate the Gentlemen, and 
confine them in several prisons, that very night. Which 
orders, the Officers executed as rudely as the Sergeant 
could desire ; saving that they obtained the civility from the 
Officers to be confined two in a place, and two in another; 
but were hurried away with such unmannerly indecency., 
that they would not permit them to send for their night- 
gowns and necessaries. 

In this manner, Mr. William Colepeper and Mr. 
Justinian Champneys were carried to Myat the Messen- 
ger's house, in Fox Court, in Holborn : where they had this 
hard choice proposed to them, at their entrance, Whether 
they would lodge in the Cellar or the Garret ? And choosing 
the latter, they were thrust into a little hole on the top of 
the house : where they had all the inconveniences of the 
nasty prison, as base lodging, foul sheets, little covering, 
and a cold room ; by which means, they both took such cold 
as they have not yet recovered from. 

But Mr. Sergeant, lest they should not be ill-treated 
enough, coming, the next morning, to Mr. Myat's house, was 
in a great rage at him, and drawing his sword, cut him over 
the head, for "using the Gentlemen so civilly," as he called it. 

Afterwards, coming up into the garret, where Mr. Cole- 
peper and Mr. Justinian Champneys were lodged: they 
asked him, " What Order he had, for using them thus ? " 

He replied, *' He had an Order from those who com- 
mitted them." 

Being asked again, " If there was any such Vote passed 
in the House ? " 

He said, " No, but he had an Order." 

Mr. Colepeper replied, " If it be not a Vote of the 



1 68 Fortunately removed to the Gatehouse, (juij^j^^oi.' 

House, pray how is it an Order ? Have the Majority of the 
House, one by one, come to you, and given you directions to 
use us thus barbarously ? " 

He replied " Yes, they had ! " For which scandalous 
reflection, if false, his masters the Members of the House of 
Commons are exceedingly obliged to him. 

Mr. CoLEPEPER told him, he believed he should live to see 
him hanged. 

And so they parted. 

All this while, Mr. Polehill and Mr. Hamilton were 
put into a cellar, without the favour of having their choice ; 
and had so vile a lodging, that they could scarcely breathe. 

They were likewise, in their turn, bullied by Mr. Sergeant, 
the next day. 

When they asked him, to shew the copy of their Commit- 
ment : he denied it. 

Mr. Polehill, in particular, replied, "They asked him 
nothing but what, by Law, he ought to grant." 

He rudely replied, " He cared not a farthing for them, nor 
the Law neither! " And so left them. 

Which refusal of his, he may hear of again, perhaps, in a 
way of legal application. 

On Tuesday [13^/j May], he gave the House notice, that 
the younger Mr. Colepeper had made his escape ; though 
he had a letter from him, that he would be in Town that 
very day. And at the same time, he made a complaint that 
the other Gentlemen behaved themselves so disorderly, that 
he apprehended a rescue : though the Gentlemen, to avoid 
any suspicion, had voluntarily surrendered their swords to 
the Messengers, without being required so to do. 

This complaint to the House was the Gentlemen's deliver- 
ance, and the Sergeant's disappointment ; though not in 
kindness to them neither. For ordering them to the Gate- 
house, as a more ignominious confinement, the Sergeant 
lost the extravagant fees which he designed to extort from 
them ; and the humanity of Captain Taylor, the Keeper of 
the Gatehouse, made their restraint easy to them. 

For this Keeper used them like Gentlemen, and the 
reputation he has obtained by his civility will be as lasting 
as the infamy of the Sergeant : the one leaves a grateful 
acknowledgement in the mouths of all men, and will always 



?ui?ito!:] The appearance of Legion's Memorial, i 69 

be spoken of to his advantage ; and the other nauseous, like 
the person, is dishonourable both to his memory and to the 
House that employed him. 

On Wednesday [14^/j May], Thomas Colepeper, Esq., 
the younger brother, who had been in Kent, and who was 
just come up according to his promise, rendered himself to 
the Speaker, and desired to be sent to his brethren. 

Mr. Sergeant, who thought to make himself amends upon 
him, laboured to have him continued in his custody : and 
had not that Party in the House thought the Gatehouse a 
greater punishment, possibly it had been so. But therein, 
that infallible House were deceived ! and he was delivered 
from the hands of a villain, by his enemies themselves: who 
thought they had mortified him the more ; to the infinite 
regret of the Sergeant, and the general satisfaction of his 
fellow-sufferers. 

The same morning {lA^th May\ that Mr. Colepeper sur- 
rendered himself. The Legion Paper [see pp. 179-186], as it was 
called, was sent to the House. It was said, it was delivered 
to the Speaker by a woman. But I have been informed since, 
that it was a mistake : and that it was delivered by the very 
person [Daniel Defoe] who wrote it, guarded with about 
sixteen Gentlemen of Quality ; who, if any notice had been 
taken of him, were ready to have carried him off by force. 

It was reported that Mr. Thomas Colepeper brought it 
out of Kent, and that all the Country [County] were at his 
heels, to make it good : though it was really no such thing, 
and that Gentleman declared he knew nothing at all of it. 

But be it as it will, that Paper struck such a terror into 
the Party in the House, that, from that time, there was not 
a word ever spoken in the House, of proceeding against the 
Kentish Petitioners ; and the Members of that Party began 
to drop off, and get into the country : for their Management 
began to be so disliked over the whole nation, that their own 
fears dictated to them, they had run things too far. 

The clashings with the Upper House about the trial of 
the four Peers they had impeached ; and the miserable shifts 
they were driven to by the Lords, to avoid trying them, 
served but to make them more uneasy, and to hasten the 
despatch of the money bills, in order to the Prorogation, 
which was on the 23rd of June, 1701. 



170 They are feasted at Mercers Hall, [jlii^fj"^ 

By the Prorogation, the Kentish Gentlemen were dis- 
charged : but to shew their respect to the civiHty of Captain 
Taylor their Keeper, they continued to lodge with him, till 
they went into the country. 

The first honour done to them, on account of their suffer- 
ings, was their being invited to a noble entertainment at 
Mercers Hall in Cheapside, at the charge of the citizens of 
London : where above two hundred Gentlemen dined with 
them, together with several noble Lords and Members of 
Parliament. 

Thursday, the 2nd of July [1701], they set out for Kent. 
The citizens had offered to accompany them out of Town : 
but they declined it, desiring to go privately. And those 
who pretend to charge them with affecting popularity ; would 
do well to remember, that they were fain to send their coaches 
empty out of Town, and go by water to meet them, to avoid 
the respect which the citizens would have shewn them. 

But there was no shunning the Appearance of the Country; 
who shewed their value for the Gentlemen and the Cause 
for which they had suffered, in all possible terms of respect 
and affection. 

The first instance of this, was at Blackheath, where Mr. 
David Polehill, one of the Gentlemen, was to separate 
from the rest ; his road lying near Bromley, to his house at 
Ottford in Kent. 

He was met at Blackheath by above 500 Horse : who 
received him into the midst of them, and surrounded his 
coach, with such shouts and joy, as sufficiently testified their 
respect for him, and their satisfaction at his return among 
them. 

Nor can I omit, that having, to satisfy my curiosity, drank 
among, and discoursed with some of that party, while they 
were waiting for Mr. Polehill; I [Daniel Defoe] never 
heard of any Gentleman more universally beloved by the 
Country, or more particularly distinguished for the modesty 
and Temper : and I believe I may affirm, that it would be 
hard to find any Gentleman so near the City of London, who 
could have had such an Appearance of his own tenants and 
neighbours, to congratulate his deliverance. 

Mr. Polehill being come to the corner of the Park wall 
on Blackheath, stopped to take leave of his brethren ; and 



fui?i1o!:] The Appearance of their County. 171 

giving them a loud huzza, wished them a good journey, and 
proceeded to Ottford. 

All possible demonstrations of joy concluded the day: and 
it has not been known that the Country ever expressed more 
satisfaction since the Coronation of King William, than at 
the return of this Gentleman. 

The rest of the Gentlemen proceeded to Rochester, where 
they were met by such a body of Horse, that the principal 
inns of the town could not entertain them : some of whom 
had come twenty miles to meet them. 

The Mayor of Rochester paid his respect to them, and 
complained that he had no notice given him of their coming : 
otherwise he would have met them out of the town , with a good 
body of Horse. 

Here they rested, to refresh themselves and their horses. 

And about six a clock, they set forward for Maidstone. 

The people of Maidstone, though it was market day, could 
not have patience to wait at that place where they generally 
go to meet the Judges ; but a great many horsemen met 
them on the Downs, and on the top of Boxley Hill, four miles 
from the town. 

At Sandlin, about two miles from the town, the Gentlemen 
of the neighbourhood met them with their coaches ; and an 
innumerable multitude of people, on horseback and on foot, 
shouting and bidding them welcome. 

After a short stay here, to receive the compliments of the 
Gentlemen ; they proceeded, the Gentlemen's coaches falling 
into the rear, to the Park, the seat of the Lady Taylor, who 
is married to Mr. Thomas Colepeper; where they were 
welcomed by the said Lady, the old Lady Colepeper, the 
mother of the Gentleman, and several Ladies of Quality: 
the people shouting all the while " A Colepeper 1" " A Cole- 
peper 1 " ; and the poor strewing the ways with greens and 
flowers. 

And thus they proceeded into the town, with such universal 
acclamations of the people as the like was never seen in that 
Country, since the Restoration of King Charles the Second. 

The night concluded with a great bonfire, and the 
Healths of all the Gentlemen drank round it : to the 



172 Publicly thanked by their County, jjui^itoi! 

great mortification of the Jacobites, of whom there are but 
very few in those parts ; and to the general satisfaction of 
the Country. 

Nor was this the only Appearance. For at Beartsted, 
about three miles further, the Country was assembled, the 
bells rung, and several hundreds of people continued together 
all night, with extraordinary joy, expecting that the elder 
Mr. CoLEPEPER, Mr. Champneys, and Mr. Hamilton would 
have continued their journey to Hollingbourne, the ancient 
seat of the Family of the Colepepers. 

But the extraordinary reception they found at Maidstone 
had detained them so long, that it was too late to go on. So 
they lay at Maidstone that night. 

And the next day, abundance of Gentlemen and Country 
people came particularly to pay their respects to them, and 
to bid them welcome into the Country. 

And at the time of the Assizes, lately held at Maidstone, 
the Grand Jury consisting of very eminent Gentlemen and 
freeholders of the Country, whereof twelve were Justices of 
the Peace, went in a body to the Gentlemen, and publicly 
gave them thanks for their fidelity to the Country in deliver- 
ing their Petition to the Parliament. 

In all these expressions of the Country joy at the return 
of these honest Gentlemen ; it might be enquired. What 
they said of the Parliament ? because it is so natural to 
curse with one hand, when we bless with the other, that 
it might be rationally expected. It is true, the Country, 
being justly disobliged at the ill-usage of these Gentlemen, 
did not spare their reflections. But I choose to pass it over : 
because it is not Parliaments in general, but the Conspira- 
tors and Jacobite Party in a Parliament, that are at present 
the Nation's burthen, and from whom, she groans to be 
delivered. 




173 




THE CONCLUSION. 

Ad this Nation listened to the Calls of their own 
Reason^ and to the Voice of Things ; all this confusion 
of counsels had been prevented ! Had the People of 
England chosen men of honesty and of peaceable 
principles, men of candour, disengaged from Interest 
and design, that had nothing before them but the benefit of their 
Country, the safety of Religion, and the Interest of Europe, all 
this had been avoided I They never would have imprisoned five 
honest Gentlemen, for coming to them, with the sense of their 
Country, in a peaceable Petition / They would never have had the 
occasion to repent of their refusing to hearken to the Voice of the 
People ! 

But it is too late to look back I The Nation has had the 
misfortune to choose them ! and our Peace and Liberty, and the 
Protestant Interest in Europe are too much in their hands. 

A II the advice I can pretend to give to my fellow-slaves and 
countrymen, is that they would not be backward to let the Gentle- 
men know, that the Nation is sensible they are not doing their 
duty : and withal, that to impose upon the Rights and Liberties 
of the English Nation has always been fatal to the persons of 
those who have attempted it ; and their examples stand as buoys 
and marks to warn Posterity of the hidden dangers they have fallen 
into. 

It has been fatal to Favourites, to Judges, to Lords, and to 
Kings ; and will certainly be so, even to Parliaments, if they 
descend to abuse the People they represent. 

The imprisoning these five Gentlemen had neither Reason, 
Law, Pretence, nor Policy in it. 



1 74 The imprisonment without Reason, Law, SccP^^"*- 

It had no Reason in it, because they had offended against no 
law, either of reason, or the nature of the thing. 

It had no Law in it, because they had no legal power to commit 
any but their own Members. 

And I am of the opinion, they are convinced there was no Policy 
in it : for there is seldom much policy in doing that publicly, 
which we know we shall be ashamed of. 

The not proceeding against them afterward, shewed they were 
either ashamed or afraid. Had they been in the right, there 
could be no reason to fear ; and if in the wrong, they had all the 
reason in the World to be ashamed. 

To commit five Gentlemen to custody, for petitioning them to 
do, what they really knew they ought to have done ; it was the 
most preposterous thing in Nature ! To punish for humbly 
petitioning / it is nonsense in itself ! 

GOD himself permits the meanest and most despicable of his 
creatures to remind Him, as we may say, of their wants, and 
petition for his aid. The most contemptible beggar is permitted 
to be importunate for relief; and though the Law is against him, 
we are not affronted at it. But to resent the representation of 
their Country, and imprison Gentlemen who, at the request of the 
freeholders of a County, came, under the express protection 
of an Act of Parliament, to deliver a Petition : it was 
the most ridiculous inconsistent action that ever Parliament of 
England was guilty of : and, with submission, I think the best 
action the same House can do, at their next meeting, is to Vote 
that it should be razed out of their Journals, and never be made 
a precedent for the time to come. Upon which condition, and no 
other, the Nation ought to forgive them. 

The Act of 13 Car. II. to assert the Right of the Subject's 
Petitioning, is a sufficient authority for any one to quote : and 
those that pretend to call this an illegal act, must first trample 
down the authority of that Act of Parliament. 

Let this Act justify me, in saying, that to imprison English- 
men for petitioning is Illegal, and a dishonour to English 
Parliamejits. 



?ui?.tot:] The inalienable Right of Petitioning. 175 

But say the lame excusers of this eccentric Motion of this 
House, " This was a factious thing contrived by a few private 
insignificant people of no value ; and the matter of it is saucy and 
impertinent.^^ 

First, had it been a Petition of the meanest and most incon- 
siderable person in England, and that single by himself , provided 
he were a freeholder of England, he had Legal Right to speak his 
mind. For that same reason from whence the Commons in 
Parliament claim a Freedom of Speech, gives every Commoner a 
Freedom to speak to the House; since every freeholder has an 
equal concern in their Debates, and equal power in deputing them 
to sit there. 

But because this Right unlimited, might be multitudinous and 
uneasy, therefore the method, how he shall do it, is circumscribed 
for decency's sake, that it shall be done by Petition ; and that 
Petition shall be presented so and so, and by such a number, 
and no more. 

But that it should not be lawful to petition, no tribunal, no 
Court, no Collective or Representative Body of men in the World 
ever refused it ! Nay, the Inquisition of Spain does not forbid it ! 
the Divan of the Turks allows it! and I believe, if Satan him- 
self kept his Court in public, he would not prohibit it. 

But besides this, the fact is not true. A s for it being contrived 
by a few people, let the Impartial Relation here given, answer that 
ridiculous untruth : unless you will account the County of Kent a 
few ; for certainly eleven parts of twelve in the whole County, and 
now of the whole Kingdom, approve of it. 

Nor has the reproach upon the Persons presenting it more of 
truth; unless Gentlemen of ancient and illustrious Families, 
whose ancestors have been known, for several Ages, to be Men of 
Honour and estates, allied to several of the Nobility, and now 
known and valued by the whole County, both for their consider- 
able fortunes as well as personal merit : unless, I say, such men 
are to be accounted private and inconsiderable, the charge cannot 
be true. To stich I shall only say, that the ancestors of these Gentle- 
men were Members of ancient Parliaments, and of such Parlia- 



176 A MOST JUST Observation. q^iJ^'J^ 

ments as would have been ashamed of committing such an absurdity 
as to imprison the freeholders of England for a peaceable Petition. 

As to the matter of the Petition, and which some people say was 
a banter^ the turning their Loyal Addresses into Bills of Supply. 
The Gentlemen ought to have had liberty to explain themselves : 
which, if they had done, I am of opinion that it woidd have been 
to this purpose, that " they thought it was proper the House should 
speedily supply the King so with money, as that he might be 
enabled to defend our Protestant neighbours from the encroach- 
ment of France ; and not to lose their time in addressing the 
King in matters of less moment." 

/ shall conclude with this short animadversion, by way of 
remark ; and let all men judge of the justness of the Observation. 

That as this was the First time that ever the English nation 
Petitioned to be taxed ; so this ivas the First Parliament that ever 
addressed the Kiiig to take care of himself, and [to] defend hi?nself 
against his peopU, 





Ome book-learned fools pretend to find a flaw 
In our late Senate Votes for want of Law, 
And insolently saw the Men of Kent 
Were rudely handled by the Parliament : 
Knowledge of Things would teach them every hour 
That Law is but a heathen word for Power. 
Might, Right, Force, Justice, Equity 
Are terms synonymous, and must agree ! 
For who shall e'er the argument confute. 
Where Power prevails, and no man dares dispute? 

Nature has left this tincture in the blood, 
That all men would be Tyrants, if they could 1 
Nv)t Kings alone, not Ecclesiastic pride; 
But Parliaments ! and all mankind beside. 
All men, like Photon, would command the reins, 
'Tis only Want of Power that restrains ! 

Then why should we think strange the Parliament 
The People's late Petitions should resent ? 
'Tis fatal to Tyrannic Power, when they 
Who should be ruined, grumble to obey ! 
And Tyrants never can complete their reign, 
So long as injured subjects dare complain ! 
If they do not, iheir first Address withstand ; 
What now they supplicate, they '11 soon command I 
By first suppressing early discontent ; 
They aimed, the Consequences to prevent ! 
For well they knew, that should the Nation try 
To ask once more, they durst not twice deny ! 
England has this own fate peculiar to her; 
Never to want a Party to undo her ! 
The Court, the King, the Church, the Parliament 
Alternately pursue the same intent, 

M 3 



178 Five hundred Traitors in the House, (juiy^'y"^; 

Under the specious name of Liberty, 

The passive injured People to betray. 

And it has always been the People's fate, 

To see their own mistakes, when 'twas too late ; 

Senseless of danger, sleepy and secure. 

Till their distempers grew too strong to cure : 

Till they 're embraced by the approaching grave, 

And none but Jove and miracles can save. 

In vain, bold heroes venture to redeem 
A People willinger to sink than swim ! 
If there 's a Brutus in the Nation found. 
That dare Patrician Usurpation wound ; 
He 's sure to find an ignominious grave. 
And perish by the People he would save ! 

Such are by Virtue signalised in vain ! 
We '11 own the Merit, but abuse the Men. 
Marius saved Rome, and was by Rome despised ; 
And many a Russell we have sacrificed ! 
Then who for English Freedom would appear, \ 

Where lives of patriots are never dear ! [ 

And streams of generous blood flow unregarded there. J 

Posterity will be ashamed to own 
The actions we, their ancestors have done, 
When they, for ancient precedents enquire, 
And to the Joitynals of this Age retire, 
To see One Tyrant banished from his home, 
To set Five Hundred Traitors in his room ! 
They '11 blush to find the Head beneath the Tail, 
And Representing Treachery prevail. 
They '11 be amazed to see, there were but Five 
Whose Courage could their Liberty survive ! 
While we, that durst Illegal Power dethrone. 
Should basely be enslaved by Tyrants of our own. 

FINIS. 



•"bst 




Daniel Defoe. 
\_L E G I o N' s Memorial, ] 

[A copy of the original secretly printed 4//. 4to, in"| 
the British Museum ; Press mark, 1093 b 35. J 




Mr. S [p e a k e] r , 

His enclosed Memorial, you are charged with ! in the 
behalf of many thousands of the good People of Eng- 
land. 

There is neither Popish, Jacobite, Seditious, Court, 
or Party Interest concerned in it ; but Honesty and Truth. 

You are commanded by Two Hundred Thousand Englishmen, 
to deliver it to the H[ous]e of C[ommon]s, and to inform them 
that it is no banter, but serious truth ; and a serious regard to it 
is expected. Nothing but Justice, and their Duty is required : and 
it is required by them who have both a right to require, and power 
to compel, viz., the People of England. 

We would have come to the House strong enough to oblige them 
to hear us ; but we have avoided any tumults : not desiring to 
embroil, but to save our native country. 

If you refuse to communicate it to them, you will find cause in 
a short time to repent it I 



To R[ober]t H[arle]y Esq., S[peake]r to the 
H[ous]e of C[ommon]s. These 



i8o 




The Memorial. 

To the K\tiight\s, C[ompion]s, and B\aron\s in P\arliamen\t assembled. 

A Memorial 

From the Gentlemen, freeholders, and inhabitants of the counties 

of , in the behalf of themselves, and many thousands of 

the good People of England. 

Gentlemen, 

T WERE to be wished you were men of that 
Temper, and possessed of so much honour as 
to bear with the Truth, though it be against 
you : especially from Us who have so much 
right to tell it you : but since even Petitions 
to you from your Masters, for such are the 
people who choose you, are so haughtily re- 
ceived, as with the committing the authors to illegal custody ; 
you must give Us leave to give you this fair notice of 
your Misbehaviour without exposing our names. 

If you think fit to rectify your errors, you will do well ! 
and possibly may hear no more of Us : but if not, assure 
yourselves the nation will not long hide their resentments. 

And though there is no stated Proceeding to bring you to 
your duty, yet the great law of Reason says, and all nations 
allow that whatever Power is above Law, it is burdensome 
and tyrannical ; and may be reduced by extrajudicial methods. 
You are not above the People's resentments! They that 




May^ifoi.'] An Abridgement of Nation's Grievances. i8i 

made you Members, may reduce you to the same rank from 
whence they chose you, and may give you a taste of their 
abused kindness, in terms you may not be pleased with. 

When the People of England assembled in Convention, 
presented the Crown to His present Majesty ; they annexed 
a Declaration of the Rights of the People, in which was expressed 
what was Illegal and Arbitrary in the former reign, and what 
was claimed, as of Right, to be done by succeeding Kings 
of England. 

In like manner, here follows. Gentlemen, a short Abridge- 
ment of the Nation's grievances, and of your illegal and 
unwarrantable practices ; and a Claim of Right, which we 
make in the name of our Selves and such of the good People 
of England as are justly alarmed at your proceedings. 

I. To raise Funds for money, and declare by borrowing 
clauses that whosoever advances money on those Funds, shall 
be reimbursed out of the next Aids, if the Funds fall short ; 
and then [to] give subsequent Funds, without transferring the 
deficiency of the former, is a horrible cheat on the Subject 
who lent the money, a breach of Public Faith, and destructive 
to the honour and credit of Parliaments. 

II. To imprison men who are not your own Members, by no 
proceedings but a Vote of your House, and to continue them 
in custody sine die, is Illegal, a notorious breach of the 
Liberty of the People, setting up a Dispensing Power in the 
House of Commons which your fathers never pretended to, 
bidding defiance to the Habeas Corpus Act which is the bul- 
wark of personal liberty, destructive of the Laws, and betray- 
ing the Trust reposed in you. The King, at the same time, 
being obliged to ask you leave, to continue in custody the horrid 
assassinators of his person. 

III. Committing to custody those Gentlemen, who, at the 
command of the People, whose servants you are, and in a 
peaceable way, put you in mind of your duty, is Illegal and 
injurious, destructive of the Subject's liberty of Petitioning 
for redress of grievances ; which has, by all Parliaments 



i82 Jack Howe talking Billingsgate. [.^ui^f^Tx. 

before you, been acknowledged to be their undoubted 
Right. 

IV. Voting a Petition from the Gentlemen of Kent insolent, 
is ridiculous and impertinent ; because the freeholders of 
England are your superiors ; and is a contradiction in itself, 
a contempt of the English Freedom, and contrary to the 
nature of Parliamentary Power. 

V. Voting people guilty of bribery and ill-practices, and 
committing them as aforesaid, without bail ; and then, upon 
submission, and kneeling to your House, discharging them, 
exacting exorbitant fees by your Officers, is Illegal ; betray- 
ing the Justice of the Nation, selling the Liberty of the 
Subject, encouraging the extortion and villany of Gaolers 
and Officers, and discontinuing the legal prosecutions of 
offenders in the ordinary course of Law. 

VI. Prosecuting the crime of bribery in some, to serve a 
Party ; and then [to] proceed no further, though proof lay 
before you, is partial and unjust, and a scandal upon the 
honour of Parliaments. 

VII. Voting the Treaty of Partition "fatal to Europe, 
because it gave so much of the Spanish dominions to the 
French," and not concerning yourselves to prevent their 
taking possession of it all ; deserting the Dutch, when the 
French are at their doors, till it be almost too late to help 
them : is unjust to our Treaties, and unkind to our Con- 
federates, dishonourable to the English nation, and shew you 
very negligent of the safety of England and of our Protestant 
neighbours. 

VIII. Ordering immediate hearings to trifling Petitions, 
to please Parties at elections ; and postponing the petition of 
a widow for the blood of her murdered daughter without 
giving it a reading ; is an illegal delay of justice, dishonour- 
able to the public Justice of the nation. 

IX. Addressing the King, to displace his friends upon bare 
surmises, before a legal trial, or an Article proved, is Illegal, 
inverting the Law, and making Execution go before Judge- 



M May'^itoi.lTHE PRINTED Votes priced at 4D. a sheet, i 8 



J 



ment : contrary to the true sense of the Law, which esteems 
every man a good man till something appears to the con- 
trary. 

X. Delaying proceedings upon Capital Impeachments, to 
blast the reputation of the persons, without proving the fact, 
is Illegal and oppressive, destructive of the Liberty of English- 
men, a delay of Justice and a reproach to Parliaments. 

XL Suffering saucy and indecent reproaches upon His 
Majesty's person to be publicly made in your House ; par- 
ticularly by that Impudent Scandal of Parliaments, J[oh]n 
H[ojw[e], without shewing such resentments as you ought 
to do. The said J[oh]n H[o]w[e] saying openly that " His 
Majesty had made a felonious Treaty, to rob his neighbours," 
insinuating that the Partition Treaty (which was every way 
as just as blowing up one man's house to save another's) 
" was a combination of the King to rob the Crown of Spain of 
its due." This is to make a Billingsgate of the House, and 
setting up to bully your Sovereign ; contrary to the intent 
and meaning of the Freedom of Speech, which you claim 
as a right ; is scandalous to Parliaments ; undutiful and 
unmannerly, and a reproach to the whole nation. 

XII. Your S[peake]r exacting the exorbitant rate of j^io 
per diem for the V[ote]s, and giving the Printer encourage- 
ment to raise it on the People, by selling them at ^d. a sheet, 
is an illegal and arbitrary exaction, dishonourable to the 
House, and burdensome to the People. 

XIII. Neglecting still to pay the nation's debts, com- 
pounding for interest, and postponing Petitions, is Illegal, 
dishonourable, and destructive of the Pubhc Faith. 

XIV. Publicly neglecting the great work of Reformation 
of Manners, though often pressed to it by the King, to the 
great dishonour of GOD, and encouragement of vice ; is a 
neglect of your Duty, and an abuse of the Trust reposed in 
you by GOl», His Majesty, and the People. 

XV. Being scandalously vicious yourselves, both in your 
morals and religion, lewd in life and erroneous in doctrine, 



1 84 H ousE OF Commons cannot suspend Laws ! Q^ m^^^ 



Defoe. 
701. 




having public blasphemers and impudent deniers of the 
Divinity of our Saviour among you ; and suffering them un- 
reproved and unpunished to the infinite regret of all good 
Christians, and the just abhorrence of the whole nation. 



Herefore, in the said prospect of the impending 
ruin of our native country ; while Parliaments, 
which ought to be the security and defence of our 
Laws and Constitution, betray their Trust, and 
abuse the people whom they should protect ; and no other 
way being left us but that Force which we are very 
loth to make use of: that Posterity may know we did not 
insensibly fall under the tyranny of a prevailing Party ; We 
do hereby 

Claim and Declare, 

1. That it is the undoubted Right of the People of England, 
in case their Representatives in Parliament do not proceed 
according to their Duty, and the People's Interest ; to inform 
of their dislike, disown their actions, and to direct them to 
such things as they think fit, either by Petition, Address, 
Proposal, Memorial, or any other peaceable way. 

2. That the House of Commons, separately, and otherwise 
than by Bill legally passed into an Act, have no Legal Power 
to suspend or dispense with the Laws of the land ; any more 
than the King has, by his Prerogative. 

3. That the House of Commons have no Legal Power to 
imprison any person, or commit them to the custody of Ser- 
jeants or otherwise, their only Members excepted ; but ought 
to address the King, to cause any person, on good grounds, 
to be apprehended : which person, so apprehended, ought to 
have the benefit of the Habeas Corpus Act; and be fairly 
brought to trial by due course of Law. 

4. That if the House of Commons, in breach of the Laws 



MMaj^itoi] Legion's Orders to the House. 185 

and Liberties of the people, do betray the Trust reposed in 
them ; and act negligently or arbitrarily and illegally : it is 
the undoubted Right of the People of England to call them 
to an account for the same ; and by Convention, Assembly, 
or Force, may proceed against them, as traitors and betrayers 
of their country. 

These things we think proper to Declare, as the Unques- 
tioned Right of the People of England, whom you serve. 

And in pursuance of that Right ; avoiding the ceremony 
of Petitioning our inferiors (for such you are by your present 
circumstances, as the person sent is less than the sender) : 
We do publicly Protest against all your foresaid Illegal 
Actions ; and, in the name of our Selves, and of all tiie good 
People of England, do 

Require and Demand, 

1. That all the Public just Debts of the nation be forth- 
with paid and discharged. 

2. That all persons illegally imprisoned as aforesaid, be 
either immediately discharged, or admitted to bail, as by Law 
they ought to be : and the Liberty of the Subject recognized 
and restored. 

3. That J[oh]n H[o]w[e] aforesaid, be obliged to ask His 
Majesty pardon for his vile reflections ; or be immediately 
expelled the House. 

4. That the growing power of France be taken into con- 
sideration, the Succession of the Emperor to the Crown of 
Spain supported, our Protestant neighbours protected, as 
the true Interest of England and the Protestant Religion 
require. 

5. That the French King be obliged to quit Flanders, or 
that His Majesty be addressed to declare war against him. 

6. That suitable Supplies be granted to His Majesty, for 
the putting all these necessary things in execution ; and that 



1 86 We WILL Not be slaves to Parliaments! [^j^uk^fjol 

care be taken that such taxes as are raised, may be more 
equally assessed and collected, and scandalous deficiencies 
prevented. 

7. That the Thanks of the House may be given to those 
Gentlemen, v^ho so gallantly appeared in the behalf of their 
country, with the Kentish Petition ; and have been so scan- 
dalously used for it. 



Thus, Gentlemen, you have your Duty laid before you ! 
which it is hoped you will think of! But if you continue to 
neglect it, you may expect to be treated according to the 
resen*- ents of an injured Nation ! For Englishmen are no 
more to be Slaves to Parliaments, than to a King ! 

Our name is Legion, and we are Many. 

Postscript. 

If you require to have this Memorial signed with our 
Names ; it shall be done, on your first Order: and per- 
sonally presented / 




THE 



SHORTEST-WAY 



WITH THE 



ISSENTERS: 



O R 



PROPOSALS 



FOR THE 



ESTABLISHMENT 



O F TH E 



CHURCH. 



L O ND ON: 

Printed in the Year M D C C I I. 



i89 



[The meaning then of this Paper is, in short, to tell these Gentlemen : 

1, That it is nonsense to go round about, and tell us of the crimes of the 
Dissenters ! to prepare the World to believe they are not fit to live in 
a human society ; that they are enemies to the Government, and Law ! to 
the Queen, and the Public Peace, and the like. The Shortest PVa_y, and 
the soonest, would be to tell us plainly that they would have them all 
hanged, banished, and destroyed. 

2. But withal to acquaint these Gentlemen, who fancy the time is come 
to bring it to pass, that they are mistaken ! For that when the thing 
they mean is put into plain English, the whole nation replies with the 
Assyrian Captain, "Is thy servant a dog, that he should do these 
things ? " 

The Gentlemen are mistaken in every particular. It will not go down ! 
The Queen, the Council, the Parliament are all offended to have it so 
much as suggested, that such a thing was possible to come into their 
minds : and not a man but a learned Mercer not far from the corner of 
Fenchurch street, has been found to approve it. 

Thus a poor Author has ventured to have all mankind call him 
" Villain ! " and " Traitor to his country and his friends," for making 
other people's thoughts speak in his words. ... 

As to expressions which seem to reflect upon persons or nations ; he 
declares them to be only the Cant of the Non-juring Party exposed : and 
thinks it very necessary to let the World know that it is their usual 
language, with which they treat the late King, the Scotch Union, and the 
Line of Hanover. 

It is hard, after all, that this should not be perceived by all the Town ! 
that not one man can see it, either Churchman or Dissenter ! 

A brief explanation . . . ^The Shortest Way. 1703. 

I'll prove by the Preachings, Printings, and declared Judgement of 
several of the most zealous High Party, that however the practice was 
disowned by the Party upon the unreasonable exposing [of] it, by the 
book called The Shortest Way ; yet that it has all along been their 
desire, and very often their design. And I appeal for the truth of it, 
among many instances, to a letter of a known Churchman \Clergyma}i\ 
whose original I have by me, it being written to a person who sent hun 
the book for a present. 

S I R^ 

I received yours ^ and, enclosed, the book called, The Shortest \yay 
with the Dissenters, _/br which I thank yoit : and, next to the Holy Bible 
and Sacred Co)nments, I place it as the most valuable thins; I can have. 
I look upon it as the Only Method! and I pray GOD to put it into the 
heart of our most gracious Queen, to put what is there proposed tn 
executiofi. 



I90 

Here is the Character of a High Churchman drawn to the life ! But 
when, in a post or two, this Gentleman understood it was written by a 
Dissenter ; in his next, he sends up an invidious Character of a Whig : 
and what, in his opinion, such a one deserved. 

The Dissenter^ Answer to the High Church Challenge. Ed. 1702. 



A certain Printer, whose practice that way is too well known to need 
a name, having frequently practised the same thing in particulars \as to 
single 'works\ made the first essay in general \in a collected edition\ and 
printed [about yajttiary, 1703] a spurious and erroneous copy [text], of 
sundry things which he called Mine ; and intituled them, A Collection of 
the IVorks of the Author of The True Born Englishman. 

And though the Author was then embroiled with the Government, for 
one of the Pamphlets [The Shortest Way\ he collected : yet had this man 
the face to print among them, the same Pamphlet ; presuming so far 
upon the partiality of the Public Resentment, that he should pass with 
impunity, for the publishing of that very thing, for which the Author was 
to be pursued with the utmost severity. 

This, as it was a full proof, and most undeniable testimony, that the 
resentment shewed to the Author was on some other and less justifiable 
Account than the publishing of that book ; so was it a severe Satire, on 
the ignorance and unwariness of that Ministry, who had not eyes to see 
their justice plainly exposed, and their general proceedings bantered by a 
petty printer, in publishing barefaced and in defiance of them, that same 
book, for which another man stood arraigned, and was to be exposed. 

Nor was the Insult to the Government, all the circumstance of guilt in 
this publication : but the most absurd and ridiculous mistakes in the 
copies [texts'] were such as rendered it a double cheat. 

First, to the Author ; to whom it was a most aggravated theft : first, as 
it was invading his right ; and secondly, as it was done while he was 
in trouble, and unable to right himself. 

Secondly, to the Buyers, to whom it was a most ridiculous banter, and 
the mere picking of their pockets ; the Author having, in his first 
perusal of it, detected above 350 errors in the printing ; marring the 
Verse, spoiling the sense, and utterly inverting the true intent and 
meaning. 

The Author having expressed himself, though in decent terms, against 
the foulness of this practice ; the Printer (having no plea to the barbarity 
of the fact) justifies it, and says, " He will do the like by anything an 
Author prints on his own account [at his own risk] ; since Authors have 
no right to employ a printer, unless they have served their time [appren- 
ticeship] to a bookseller." 

This ridiculous allegation seems to me, to be as if a man's house being 
on fire, he had no right to get help for the quenching of it, of anybody 
but the Insurers' firemen. 

A true Collection, &^c. Vol. II. Preface.] 



THE 
SHORTEST-WAY 

WITH THE 

DISSENTERS, 



c. 




Ir Roger L' Estrange tells us a story in 
his collection of Fables, of the Cock and the 
Horses. The Cock was gotten to roost in 
the stable among the horses; and there 
being no racks or other conveniences for 
him, it seems, he was forced to roost upon 
the ground. The horses jostling about for 
room, and putting the Cock in danger of 
his life, he gives them this grave advice, " Pray, Gentlefolks ! 
let us stand still ! for fear we should tread upon one another 1 " 
There are some people in the World, who, now they are 
tmperched, and reduced to an equality with other people, 
and under strong and very just apprehensions of being 
further treated as they deserve, begin, with Esop's Cock, to 
preach up Peace and Union and the Christian duty of 
Moderation ; forgetting that, when they had the Power in 
their hands, those Graces were strangers in their gates ! 

It is now, near fourteen years, [1688-1702], that the glory 
and peace of the purest and most flourishing Church in the 
world has been eclipsed, buffeted, and disturbed by a sort of 
men, whom, GOD in His Providence, has suffered to insult 
over her, and bring her down. These have been the days of 
her humiliation and tribulation. She has borne with an 
invincible patience, the reproach of the wicked : and GOD 
has at last heard her prayers, and delivered her from the 
oppression of the stranger. 

And now, they find their Day is over ! their power gone ! 
and the throne of this nation possessed by a Royal, English, 
true, and ever constant member of, and friend to, the Church 
of England ! Now, they find that they are in danger of the 
Church of England's just resentments ! Now, they cry out, 
" Peace! " " Union ! " "Forbearance!" and " Charity!" : as 



192 The resentments of the Non-Jurors. [, Dec^' 



Defoe. 
702. 



if the Church had not too long harboured her enemies under 
her wing ! and nourished the viperous brood, till they hiss 
and fly in the face of the Mother that cherished them ! 

No, Gentlemen ! the time of mercy is past ! your Day of 
Grace is over ! you should have practised peace, and mode- 
ration, and charity, if you expected any yourselves ! 

We have heard none of this lesson, for fourteen years past! 
We have been huffed and bullied with your Act of Toleration ! 
You have told us, you are the Church established by Law, as 
well as others ! have set up your canting Synagogues at our 
Church doors ! and the Church and her members have been 
loaded with reproaches, with Oaths, Associations, Abjura- 
tions, and what not ! Where has been the mercy, the 
forbearance, the charity you have shewn to tender con- 
sciences of the Church of England that could not take Oaths 
as fast as you made them ? that having sworn allegiance to 
their lawful and rightful King, could not dispense with that 
Oath, their King being still alive ; and swear to your new 
hodge podge of a Dutch Government ? These have been 
turned out of their Livings, and they and their families left 
to starve ! their estates double taxed to carry on a war they 
had no hand in, and you got nothing by ! 

What account can you give of the multitudes you have 
forced to comply, against their consciences, with your new 
sophistical Politics, who, like New Converts in France, sin be- 
cause they cannot starve ? And now the tables are turned upon 
you ; you must not be persecuted ! it is not a Christian spirit ! 

You have butchered one King ! deposed another King ! 
and made a Mock King of a third ! and yet, you could have 
the face to expect to be employed and trusted by the fourth ! 
Anybody that did not know the temper of your Party, would 
stand amazed atthe impudence as well asthefolly to think of it ! 

Your management of your Dutch Monarch, who you 
reduced to a mere King of Cl[ub]s, is enough to give any 
future Princes such an idea of your principles, as to warn 
them sufficiently from coming into your clutches ; and, GOD 
be thanked ! the Queen is out of your hands ! knows you ! 
and will have a care of you ! 

There is no doubt but the Supreme Authority of a nation 
has in itself, a Power, and a right to that Power, to execute 
the Laws upon any part of that nation it governs. The 



^.lo':] James I. should have cleared out Puritans ! 193 

execution of the known Laws of the land, and that with but 
a gentle hand neither, was all that the Fanatical Party of 
this land have ever called Persecution. This they have 
magnified to a height, that the sufferings of the Huguenots 
in France were not to be compared with them. Now to 
execute the known Laws of a nation upon those who trans- 
gress them, after having first been voluntarily consenting 
to the making of those Laws, can never be called Perse- 
cution, but Justice. But Justice is always Violence to the 
party offending ! for every man is innocent in his o\vn eyes. 

The first execution of the Laws against Dissenters in 
England, was in the days of King James L; and what did it 
amount to ? Truly, the worst they suffered was, at their own 
request, to let them go to New England, and erect a new 
colony ; and give them great privileges, grants, and suitable 
powers ; keep them under protection, and defend them 
against all invaders ; and receive no taxes or revenue from them ! 

This was the cruelty of the Church of England! Fatal lenity! 
It was the ruin of that excellent Prince, King Charles L 
Had King James sent all the Puritans in England away to 
the West Indies ; we had been a national unmixed Church ! 
the Church of England had been kept undivided and entire ! 

To requite the lenity of the Father, they take up arms 
against the Son, conquer, pursue, take, imprison, and at last 
to death the Anointed of GOD, and destroy the very Being 
and Nature of Government: setting up a sordid Impostor, 
who had neither title to govern, nor understanding to manage, 
but supplied that want, with power, bloody and desperate 
counsels and craft, without conscience. 

Had not King James I. withheld the full execution of the 
Laws : had he given them strict justice, he had cleared the 
nation of them! And the consequences had been plain ; his 
son had never been murdered by them, nor the Monarchy 
overwhelmed. It was too much mercy shewn them that 
was the ruin of his posterity, and the ruin of the nation's 
peace. One would think the Dissenters should not havethe 
face to believe, that we are to be wheedled and canted into 
Peace and Toleration, when they know that they have once 
requited us with a Civil War, and once with an intolerable 
and unrighteous Persecution, for our former civility. 

Nay, to encourage us to be easy with them, it is apparent 

N 3 



194 ^ HISTORY OF THE ChARITY OF THE ChURCH. [E^^fjU. 

that they never had the upper hand of the Church, but they 
treated her with all the severity, with all the reproach and 
contempt as was possible ! What Peace and what Mercy 
did they shew the loyal Gentry of the Church of England, in 
the time of their triumphant Commonwealth ? How did 
they put all the Gentry of England to ransom, whether they 
were actually in arms for the King or not ! making people 
compound for their estates, and starve their families ! How 
did they treat the Clergy of the Church of England! sequester 
the Ministers ! devour the patrimony of the Church, and divide 
the spoil, by sharing the Church lands among their soldiers, 
and turning her Clergy out to starve ! Just such measure 
as they have meted, should be measured to them again ! 

Charity and Love is the known doctrine of the Church of 
England, and it is plain She has put it in practice towards 
the Dissenters, even beyond what they ought [deserved], till 
She has been wanting to herself, and in effect unkind to her 
own sons : particularly, in the too much lenity of King 
James I., mentioned before. Had he so rooted the Puritans 
from the face of the land, which he had an opportunity early 
to have done ; they had not had the power to vex the Church, 
as since they have done. 

In the days of King Charles H., how did the Church 
reward their bloody doings, with lenity and mercy ! Except 
the barbarous Regicides of the pretended Court of Justice, 
not a soul suffered, for all the blood in an unnatural war ! 
King Charles came in all mercy and love, cherished them, 
preferred them, employed them, withheld the rigour of the 
Law ; and oftentimes, even against the advice of his Parlia- 
ment, gave them Liberty of Conscience : and how did they 
requite him ? With the villanous contrivance to depose and 
murder him and his successor, at the Rye [House] Plot ! 

King James [H.], asif mercy was the inherent quality of the 
Family, began his reign with unusual favour to them. Nor 
could their joining with the Duke of Monmouth against him, 
move him to do himself justice upon them. But that mis- 
taken Prince, thinking to win them by gentleness and love, 
proclaimed a Universal Liberty to them ! and rather dis- 
countenanced the Church of England than them! How they 
requited him, all the World knows ! 

The late reign [William III.] is too fresh in the memory 



iDec^^ito":] Kirk Intolerance of Episcopalians. 195 

of all the World to need a comment. How under pretence 
of joining with the Church in redressing some grievances, 
they pushed things to that extremity, in conjunction with 
some mistaken Gentlemen, as to depose the late King : as if 
the grievance of the Nation could not have been redressed 
but by the absolute ruin of the Prince ! 

Here is an instance of their Temper, their Peace, and 
Charity ! 

To what height they carried themselves during the reign 
of a King of their own ! how they crope [creeped] into all 
Places of Trust and Profit ! how they insinuated themselves 
into the favour of the King, and were at first preferred to the 
highest Places in the nation ! how they engrossed the 
Ministry ! and, above all, how pitifully they managed! is too 
plain to need any remarks. 

But particularly, their Mercy and Charity, the spirit of 
Union, they tell us so much of, has been remarkable in 
Scotland. If any man would see the spirit of a Dissenter, 
let him look into Scotland ! There, they made entire con- 
quest of the Church ! trampled down the sacred Orders and 
suppressed the Episcopal Government, with an absolute, and, 
as they supposed, irretrievable victory ! though it is possible, 
they may find themselves mistaken ! 

Now it would be a very proper question to ask their impudent 
advocate, the Observator, " Pray how much mercy and favour 
did the members of the Episcopal Church find in Scotland, 
from the Scotch Presbyterian Government ? and I shall 
undertake for the Church of England, that the Dissenters 
shall still receive as much here, though they deserve but little. 

In a small treatise of The Sufferings of the Episcopal Clergy 
in Scotland, it will appear what usage they met with ! How 
they not only lost their Livings ; but, in several places, were 
plundered and abused in their persons ! the Ministers that 
could not conform, were turned out, with numerous families 
and no maintenance, and hardly charity enough left to relieve 
them with a bit of bread. The cruelties of the Party were 
innumerable, and are not to be attempted in this short Piece. 

And now, to prevent the distant cloud which they perceive 
to hang over their heads from England, with a true Presby- 
terian policy, they put it for a Union of Nations ! that 
England might unite their Church with the Kirk of Scotland, 



196 Scoffing at Scotch enactments. \_^Eec. 



Defoe. 
1702. 



and their Assembly of Scotch canting Long-Cloaks in our 
Convocation. What might have been, if our Fanatic 
Whiggish Statesmen continued, GOD only knows ! but we 
hope we are out of fear of that now. 

It is alleged by some of the faction, and they have begun 
to bully us with it, that " if we won't unite with them, they 
will not settle the Crown with us again ; but when Her 
Majesty dies, will choose a King for themselves ! " 

If they won't we must make them ! and it is not the first 
time we have let them know that we are able ! The Crowns 
of these Kingdoms have not so far disowned the Right 
of Succession, but they may retrieve it again ; and if Scot- 
land thinks to come off from a Successive to an Elective 
State of Government ; England has not promised, not to 
assist the Right Heir, and put him into possession, without 
any regards to their ridiculous Settlements. 

THESE are the Gentlemen ! these, their ways of treating 
the Church, both at home and abroad ! 



Now let us examine the Reasons they pretend to give, why 
we should be favourable to them ? why we should continue 
and tolerate them among us ? 

First. They are very numerous, they say. They are a great 
part of the nation, and we cannot suppress them ! 

To this, may be answered, 

First. They are not so numerous as the Protestants in 
France : and yet the French King effectually cleared the 
nation of them, at once ; and we don't find he misses them 
at home ! 

But I am not of the opinion, they are so numerous as is 
pretended. Their Party is more numerous than their Per- 
sons ; and those mistaken people of the Church who are 
misled and deluded by their wheedling artifices to join with 
them, make their Party the greater : but those will open 
their eyes when the Government shall set heartily about the 
Work, and come off from them, as some animals, which they 
say, always desert a house when it is likely to fall. 

Secondly. The more numerous, the more dangerous; and 
therefore the more need to suppress them ! and GOD has 



I Ee^iS Dissenters likened to the debased coin. 197 

suffered us to bear them as goads in our sides, for not utterly 
extinguishing them long ago. 

Thirdly. If we are to allow them, only because we cannot 
suppress them ; then it ought to be tried, Whether we can 
or not? And I am of opinion, it is easy to be done! and 
could prescribe Ways and Means, if it were proper : but I 
doubt not the Government will find effectual methods for 
the rooting of the contagion from the face of this land. 

Another argument they use, which is this. That this is a time 
of war, and we have need to unite against the common enemy. 

We answer. This common enemy had been no enemy, if 
they had not made him so ! He was quiet, in peace, and no 
way disturbed and encroached upon us ; and we know no 
reason we had to quarrel with him. 

But further. We make no question but we are able to deal 
with this common enemy without their help : but why must 
we unite with them, because of the enemy ? Will they go 
over to the enemy, if we do not prevent it, by a Union with 
them ? We are very well contented [that] they should ! and 
make no question, we shall be ready to deal with them and 
the common enemy too ; and better without them than with 
them 1 Besides, if we have a common enemy, there is the 
more need to be secure against our private enemies I If 
there is one common enemy, we have the less need to have 
an enemy in our bowels ! 

It was a great argument some people used against 
suppressing the Old Money, that " it was a time of war, and 
it was too great a risque [risk] for the nation to run ! If we 
should not master it, we should be undone ! " And yet the 
sequel proved the hazard was not so great, but it might be 
mastered, and the success [i.e., of the new coinage] was 
answerable. The suppressing the Dissenters is not a harder 
work ! nor a work of less necessity to the Public ! We can 
never enjoy a settled uninterrupted union and tranquility in 
this nation, till the spirit of Whiggism, Faction, and Schism 
is melted down like the Old Money ! 

To talk of difficulty is to frighten ourselves with Chimeras 
and notions of a powerful Party, which are indeed a Party 
without power. Difficulties often appear greater at a 



198 The Dissenters are impotent! [, oec^fjo' 

distance than when they are searched into with judgement, and 
distinguished from the vapours and shadows that attend them. 
We are not to be frightened with it ! This Age is wiser 
than that, by all our own experience, and theirs too ! King 
Charles I. had early suppressed this Party, if he had taken 
more deliberate measures ! In short, it is not worth 
arguing, to talk of their arms. Their Monmouths, and 
Shaftesburys, and Argyles are gone ! Their Dutch Sanc- 
tury is at an end ! Heaven has made way for their destruc- 
tion ! and if we do not close with the Divine occasion, we 
are to blame ourselves ! and may hereafter remember, that 
we had, once, an opportunit}^ to serve the Church of 
England, by extirpating her implacable enemies ; and having 
let slip the Minute that Heaven presented, may experimen- 
tally complain, Post est Occasio Calvo ! 

Here are some popular Objections in the way. 

As First, The Queen has promised them, to continue them in 
their tolerated Liberty ; and has told us She will be a reli- 
gious observer of her word. 

What Her Majesty will do, we cannot help ! but what, as 
the Head of the Church, she ought to do, is another case. 
Her Majesty has promised to protect and defend the Church 
of England, and if she cannot effectually do that, without 
the destruction of the Dissenters; she must, of course, 
dispense with one promise to comply with another ! 

But to answer this cavil more effectually. Her Majesty did 
never promise to maintain the Toleration to the destruction 
of the Church ; but it was upon supposition that it may be 
compatible with the well-being and safety of the Church, 
which she had declared she would take especial care of. 
Now if these two Interests clash, it is plain Her Majesty's 
intentions are to uphold, protect, defend, and estiblish the 
Church ! and this, we conceive is impossible [that is, while 
maintaining the Toleration']. 

Perhaps it may be said, That the Chtcrch is in no immediate 
danger from the Dissenters ; and therefore it is time enough. 

But this is a weak answer. For first. If the danger be 
real, the distance of it is no argument against, but rather a 
spur to quicken us to Prevention, lest it be too late hereafter 



Not Fire & Faggot, but Delenda est Carthago! 199 

And secondly. Here is the opportunity, and the only one 
perhaps, that ever the Church had to secure herself, and 
destroy her enemies. 

The Representatives of the Nation have now an oppor- 
tunity ! The Time is come, which all good men have 
wished for ! that the Gentlemen of England may serve the 
Church of England, now they are protected and encouraged 
by a Church of England Queen ! 

What will you do for your Sister in the day that she shall be 
spoken for ? 

If ever you will establish the best Christian Church in the 
World ? 

If ever you will suppress the Spirit of Enthusiasm? 

If ever you will free the nation from the viperous brood that 
have so long sucked the blood of their Mother ? 

If ever you will leave your Posterity free from faction and 
rebellion, this is the time ! This is the time to pull up this 
heretical Weed of Sedition, that has so long disturbed the 
Peace of the Church, and poisoned the good corn ! 

But, says another hot and cold Objector, This is renewing 
Fire and Faggot ! reviving the Act, De heretico combu- 
rendo / This will he cruelty in its natttre ! and barbarous 
to all the World ! 

I answer, It is cruelty to kill a snake or a toad in cold 
blood, but the poison of their nature makes it a charity to 
our neighbours, to destroy those creatures ! not for any 
personal injury received, but for prevention ; not for the evil 
they have done, but the evil they may do ! Serpents, 
toads, vipers, &c., are noxious to the body, and poison the 
sensitive life : these poison the soul ! corrupt our posterity ! 
ensnare our children ! destroy the vitals of our happiness, 
our future felicity ! and contaminate the whole mass ! 

Shall any Law be given to such wild creatures ! Some 
beasts are for sport, and the huntsmen give them the advan- 
tages of ground : but some are knocked on the head, by all 
possible ways of violence and surprise ! 

I do not prescribe Fire and Faggot ! but as SciPio said of 
Carthage, Delenda est Carthago ! They are to be rooted out 
of this nation, if ever we will live in peace ! serve GOD ! or 
enjoy our own ! As for the manner, I leave it to those 



200 Dissenters, a race of Poisioned Spirits. [^^E^^illl. 

hands, who have a Right to execute GOD's Justice on the 
Nation's and the Church's enemies. 

But if we must be frighted from this Justice, under the[se] 
specious pretences, and odious sense of cruelty; nothing 
will be effected I It will be more barbarous to our own 
children and dear posterity, when they shall reproach their 
fathers, as we ours, and tell us [!] ," You had an Opportunity 
to root out this cursed race from the World, under the favour 
and protection of a True Church of England Queen ! and out 
of your foolish pity, 3'ou spared them : because, forsooth, you 
would not be cruel ! And now our Church is suppressed and 
persecuted, our Religion trampled under foot, our estates 
plundered ; our persons imprisoned, and dragged to gaols, 
gibbets, and scaffolds ! Your sparing this Amalekite race is 
our destruction ! Your mercy to them, proves cruelty to 
your poor posterity! " 

How just will such reflections be, when our posterity shall 
fall under the merciless clutches of this uncharitable Genera- 
tion ! when our Church shall be swallowed up in Schism, 
Faction, Enthusiasm, and Confusion ! when our Govern- 
ment shall be devolved upon Foreigners, and our Monarchy 
dwindled into a Republic ! 

It would be more rational for us, if we must spare this 
Generation, to summon our own to a general massacre : and 
as we have brought them into the World free, to send them 
out so ; and not betray them to destruction by our supine 
negligence, and then cry " It is mercy ! " 

Moses was a merciful meek man ; and yet with what fury 
did he run through the camp, and cut the throats of three 
and thirty thousand of his dear Israelites that were fallen 
into idolatry. What was the reason ? It was mercy to the 
rest, to make these examples ! to prevent the destruction of 
the whole army. 

How many millions of future souls, [shall] we save from 
infection and delusion, if the present race of Poisoned Spirits 
were purged from the face of the land ! 

It IS vain to trifle in this matter! The light foolish 
handling of them by mulcts, fines, &c. ; 'tis their glory 
and their advantage! If the Gallows instead of the 
Counter, and the galleys instead of the fines; were the 



iDec^to':] Selling Religion for 9s. a month. 201 

reward of going to a conventicle, to preach or hear, there would 
not be so many sufferers ! The spirit of martyrdom is over ! 
They that will go to church to be chosen Sheriffs and 
Mayors, would go to forty churches, rather than be hanged ! 

If one severe Law were made, and punctually executed, 
that Whoever was found at a Conventicle should be banished the 
nation, and the Preacher be hanged ; we should soon see an 
end of the tale ! They would all come to church again, and 
one Age [generation] would make us all One again ! 

To talk of Five Shillings a month for not coming to the 
Sacrament, and One Shilling per week, for not coming to 
Church ; this is such a way of converting people as was 
never known ! This is selling them a liberty to transgress, 
for so much money ! 

If it be not a crime, why don't we give them full license ? 
and if it be, no price ought to compound for the committing 
of it ! for that is selling a liberty to people to sin against 
GOD and the Government ! 

If it be a crime of the highest consequence, both against 
the peace and welfare of the nation, the Glory of GOD, the 
good of the Church, and the happiness of the soul : let us 
rank it among capital offences ! and let it receive a punish- 
ment in proportion to it ! 

We hang men for trifles, and banish them for things not 
worth naming; but that an offence against GOD and the 
Church, against the welfare of the World, and the dignity of 
Religion shall be bought off for Five Shillings : this is 
such a shame to a Christian Government, that it is with 
regret I transmit it to posterity. 

If men sin against GOD, affront His ordinances, rebel 
against His Church, and disobey the precepts of their supe- 
riors ; let them suffer, as such capital crimes deserve ! so will 
Religion flourish, and this divided nation be once again united. 

And yet the title of barbarous and cncel will soon be taken 
off from this Law too. I am not supposing that all the 
Dissenters in England should be hanged or banished. But 
as in case of rebellions and insurrections, if a few of the 
ringleaders suffer, the multitude are dismissed ; so a few 
obstinate people being made examples, there is no doubt 
but the severity of the Law would find a stop in the compli- 
ance of the multitude. 



202 Dissenters suppressed, quiet will come! [^BiHfjT^'. 

To make the reasonableness of this matter out of question, 
and more unanswerably plain, let us examine for what it is, 
that this nation is divided into Parties and factions ? and let 
us see how they can justify a Separation ? or we of the 
Church of England can justify our bearing the insults and 
inconveniences of the Party. 

One of their leading Pastors, and a man of as much learn- 
ing as most among them, in his Answer to a Pamphlet 
entituled An Enquiry into the Occasional Cotiformity, hath 
these words, p. 27 : " Do the Religion of the Church and 
the Meeting Houses make tv,o religions ? Wherein do they 
differ ? The Substance of the same Religion is common to 
them both, and the Modes and Accidents are the things in 
which only they differ." P. 28: "Thirty-nine Articles are 
given us for the Summary of our Religion : thirty-six contain 
the Substance of it, wherein we agree ; three are additional 
Appendices, about which we have some differences." 

Now, if as, by their own acknowledgement, the Church of 
England is a true Church ; and the difference is only in a few 
" Modes and Accidents " : why should we expect that they will 
suffer the gallows and galleys, corporal punishment and ban- 
ishment, for these trifles ? There is no question, but they will 
be wiser ! Even their own principles won't bear them out in it ! 

They will certainly comply with the Laws, and with 
Reason ! And though, at the first, severity may seem hard, 
the next Age will feel nothing of it ! the contagion will be 
rooted out. The disease being cured, there will be no need 
of the operation ! But if they should venture to transgress, 
and fall into the pit ; all the World must condemn their 
obstinacy, as being without ground from their own principles. 

Thus the pretence of cruelty will be taken off, and the 
Party actual suppressed ; and the disquiets they have so 
often brought upon the Nation, prevented. 

Their numbers and their wealth make them haughty ; and 
that is so far from being an argument to persuade us to for- 
bear them, that it is a warning to us, without any more 
delay, to reconcile them to the Unity of the Church, or 
remove them from us. 

At present. Heaven be praised ! they are not so formidable 
as they have been, and it is our own fault if ever we suffer 
them to be so ! Providence and the Church of En^rland 



1 E^fjlti Anticipations of the first two Georges. 203 

seem to join in this particular, that now, the Destroyers of 
the Nation's Peace may be overturned ! and to this end, the 
present opportunity seems to put into our hands. 

To this end, Her present Majesty seems reserved to enjoy 
the Crown, that the Ecclesiastic as well as Civil Rights of 
the Nation may be restored by her hand. 

To this end, the face of affairs has received such a turn in 
the process of a few months as never has been before. The 
leading men of the Nation, the universal cry of the People, 
the unanimous request of the Clergy agree in this, that the 
Deliverance of our Church is at hand ! 

For this end, has Providence given such a Parliament ! 
such a Convocation ! such a Gentry ! and such a Queen ! as 
we never had before. 

And what may be the consequences of a neglect of such 
opportunities ? The Succession of the Crown has but a dark 
prospect ! Another Dutch turn may make the hopes of it 
ridiculous, and the practice impossible ! Be the House of 
our future Princes ever so well inclined, they will be 
Foreigners ! Many years will be spent in suiting the Genius 
of Strangers to this Crown, and the Interests of the Nation ! 
and how many Ages it may be, before the English throne be 
filled with so much zeal and candour, so much tenderness 
and hearty affection to the Church, as we see it now covered 
with, who can imagine ? 

It is high time, then, for the friends of the Church of 
England to think of building up and establishing her in such 
a manner, that she may be no more invaded by Foreigners, 
nor divided by factions, schisms, and error. 

If this could be done by gentle and easy methods, I should 
be glad ! but the wound is corroded, the vitals begin to 
mortify, and nothing but amputation of members can com- 
plete the cure ! All the ways of tenderness and compassion, 
all persuasive arguments have been made use of in vain ! 

The humour of the Dissenters has so increased among the 
people, that they hold the Church in defiance ! and the 
House of GOD is an abomination among them ! Nay, they 
have brought up their posterity in such prepossessed 
aversion to our Holy Religion, that the ignorant mob think 
we are all idolaters and worshippers of Baal ! and account 



204 Now, LET US CRUCIFY THE THIEVES ! [x Dec^fJ"^: 

it a sin to come within the walls of our churches ! The 
primitive Christians were not more shy of a heathen temple, 
or of meat offered to idols ; nor the Jews, of swine's flesh, 
than some of our Dissenters are of the church and the 
Divine Service solemnized therein. 

The Obstinacy must be rooted out, with the profession of it ! 
While the Generation are left at liberty daily to affront GOD 
Almighty, and dishonour His holy worship ; we are wanting in 
our duty to GOD, and to our Mother the Church of England, 

How can we answer it to GOD ! to the Church ! and to 
our posterity ; to leave them entangled with Fanaticism ! 
Error, and Obstinacy, in the bowels of the nation ? to leave 
them an enemy in their streets, that, in time, may involve 
them in the same crimes, and endanger the utter extirpation 
of the Religion of the Nation ! 

"What is the difference betwixt this, and being subject to 
the power of the Church of Rome ? from whence we have 
reformed. If one be an extreme to the one hand, and one on 
another: it is equally destructive to the Truth to have errors 
settled among us, let them be of what nature they will ! Both 
are enemies of our Church, and of our peace ! and why should 
it not be as criminal to admit an Enthusiast as a Jesuit ? why 
should the Papist with his Seven Sacraments be worse than 
the Quaker with no Sacraments at all ? Why should Religious 
Houses be more intolerable than Meeting Houses? 

Alas, the Church of England ! What with Popery on one 
hand, and Schismatics on the other, how has She been crucified 
between two thieves. Now, let us crucify the thieves! 

Let her foundations be established upon the destruction of 
her enemies ! The doors of Mercy being always open to the 
returning part of the deluded people, let the obstinate be 
ruled with the rod of iron ! 

Let all true sons of so holy and oppressed a Mother, exas- 
perated by her afflictions, harden their hearts against those 
who have oppressed her ! 

And may GOD Almighty put it into the hearts of all the friends 
of Truth, to lift up a Standard against Pride and 
Antichrist ! that the Posterity of the Sons of Error may 
be rooted out from the face of this land, for ever 1 

FINIS. 



HYMN 



TO THE 



PILLORY. 



..j|{....j|j....^....rt....jj{....^..A. 

-tt-lir 
-St" 



L ND N: 
Printed in the Year, M D C C I 1 1 



2o6 



[London, July 31 [1703]. On [Thursday] the 29th instant, Daniel FOE 
alias De Foe, stood in the Pillory before the Royal Exchange in Corn- 
hill, as he did yesterday near the Conduit in Cheapside, and this day at 
Temple Bar ; in pursuance of the sentence given against him, at the last 
Sessions at the Old Bailey, for writing and publishing a seditious libel, 
intituled The Shortest Way with the Dissenters. By which sentence, he 
is also fined 200 marks, to find sureties for his good behaviour for seven 
years, and to remain in prison till all be performed. 

London Gazette. No. 3936. August 2nd, 1703. 

1 had purposed to have given a short history here of the several tracts 
in this Collection, and something of the reason of them : but I find it too 
long for a Preface. 

The Hy7nn to the Pillory seems most to require it. The Reader is 
desired to observe that this Poem was the Author's Declaration, even 
when in the cruel hands of a merciless as well as unjust Ministry, that 
the treatment he had from them, was unjust, exorbitant, and consequently 
Illegal. 

As this Satyr or Poem (call it which you will !) was written at the very 
time he was treated in that manner ; it was taken for a Defiance of their 
Illegal Proceedings ! and their not thinking fit to prosecute him for it, 
was a fair concession of Guilt in their former proceedings ; since he was 
in their power, and, as they thought, not likely to come out of it. 

It is true some faint shew of resentment was made, and the Author, 
though then in prison, never declined the test of it : but they began to 
see themselves in the wrong from the very first exerting of their Cruelty 
and Treachery upon this Author ; and the Interest of the Party sensibly 
decayed from that very moment of time. 

Multitudes of occasions have, since that, served to convince the World, 
that every word of the book \The Shortest IVay] he suffered for, was both 
Hterally and interpretively, the Sense of the Party pointed at ; true in 
fact, and true in representation : and therefore he cannot but repeat the 
conclusion as relating to himself, which he has seen made good, even to 
public satisfaction. 

Tell them, The men that placed him there 

Are scandals to the Time, 
Are at a loss tofitid his guilt. 

And can^t commit his crime. 

I should enlarge on this subject, but that perhaps the World may, in 
some proper season, be troubled with a Journal of all the Proceedings, 
Trials, Treaties, and Debates, upon that head ; and the barbarity as well 
as folly of their conduct be set in a true light to the World. 

A true Collection^ &'c. Vol. II. Pre/ace.'] 



207 



HYMN 



TO THE 



PILLORY 




Ail ! hieroglyphic State Machine, 
Contrived to punish Fancy in ! 
Men, that are men, in thee can feel no 

pain ; 
And all thy insignificants disdain ! 

Contempt, that false new word for 
Shame, 

Is, without crime, an empty name 1 
A Shadow to amuse mankind ; 
But never frights the wise or well-fixed mind ! 
Virtue despises human scorn ! 
And scandals, Innocence adorn. 

Exalted on thy Stool of State, 
What prospect do I see of sovereign Fate ! 

How the inscrutables of Providence, 

Differ from our contracted sense ! 

Here, by the errors of the Town, 

The fools look out ! the knaves look on ! 
Persons or Crimes find here the same respect ; 

And Vice does. Virtue oft correct ! 

The undistinguished fury of the street, 

With mob and malice, mankind greet ! 

No bias can the rabble draw ; 
But Dirt throws dirt, without respect to Merit or to Law 1 



2o8 Who have been in the Pillory. [29;%°' 



efoc. 
703. 



Sometimes, the air of Scandal to maintain, 
Villains look from thy lofty Loops in vain ! 
But who can judge of Crimes, by Punishment ? 
Where Parties rule, and L[aw] 's subservient. 
Justice, with change of Interest learns to bow ; 
And what was Merit once, is Murder now ! 
Actions receive their tincture from the Times, 
And as they change, are Virtues made, or Crimes. 

Thou art the State-Trap of the Law ! 
But neither canst keep knaves, nor honest men in awe : 

These are too hardened in offence, 

And those upheld by innocence. 

How have thy opening Vacancies received 
In every Age, the criminals of State ! 

And how has Mankind been deceived. 

When they distinguish crimes by fate 1 
Tell us. Great Engine ! how to understand 
Or reconcile the Justice of the land ! 
How Bastwick, Prynne, Hunt, Hollingsby, and Pye 

(Men of unspotted honesty. 

Men that had Learning, Wit, and Sense ; 

And more than most men have had since) 

Could equal title to thee claim, 
With Oates and Fuller, men of later fame ? 

Even the learned Selden saw 

A prospect of thee, through the law ! 
He had thy lofty Pinnacles in view ; 
But so much honour never was thy due ! 
Had the great Selden triumphed on thy stage 

(Selden, the honour of his Age), 

No man would ever shun thee more, 
Or grudge to stand where Selden stood before. 

Thou art no Shame to Truth and Honesty ! 
Nor is the character of such defaced by thee. 
Who suffer by oppressive injury ! 



,9?ui?ito3:] Who should be in the Pillory. 209 

Shame, like the exhalations of the sun, 
Falls back where first the motion was begun. 
And he who, for no crime shall on thy Brows appear. 
Bears less reproach than they who placed him there. 
But if Contempt is on thy Face entailed, 

Disgrace itself shall be ashamed ! 
Scandal shall blush, that it has not prevailed 

To blast the man it has defamed ! 



Let all that merit equal punishment, 

Stand there with him ! and we are all content. 



There would the famed S[achevere]ll* stand, 
With trumpet of sedition in his hand. 
Sounding the first Crusado in the land ! 
He, from of Church of England pulpit first, 

All his Dissenting brethren curst ! 

Doomed them to Satan for a prey; 

And first found out the Shortest Way ! 
With him, the wise Vice-Chancellor of the Press, 
Who (though our Printers, licenses defy) 

Willing to shew his forwardness, 

Bless it with his authority ! 
He gave the Church's sanction to the Work, 
As Popes bless colours for troops which fight the Turk. 

Doctors in Scandal, these are grown. 
For red-hot Zeal and furious Learning known I 
Professors in Reproach ! and highly fit 
For Juno's Academy, Billingsgate ! 

Thou, like a Tnie Born English tool. 

Hast, from their Composition stole ; 
And now art like to smart, for being a fool! , 

* This line shews that the pronunciation, in his own day, of the High 
Flying Doctor's name was Sa-cheve-rell. E. A. 

3 



2IO Who should be in the Pillory. Q^j^iy^i 

And as of Englishmen, 'twas always meant, 
They 're better to improve, than to invent : 

Upon their model, thou hast made 

A Monster makes the World afraid. 



With them, let all the Statesmen stand, 

Who guide us with unsteady hand ! 

Who armies, fleets, and men betray 

And ruin all, the Shortest Way ! 

Let all those soldiers stand in sight, 
Who 're willing to be paid, and not to fight ! 
Agents and Colonels, who false musters bring, 
To cheat their country first; and then, their King ! 
Bring all your coward Captains of the fleet ! 
Lord ! what a crowd will there be, when they meet I 

They who let Pointi 'scape to Brest ! 
Who all the gods of Carthagena blest. 

Those who betrayed our Turkey Fleet, 
Or injured Talmash sold at Camaret ! 

Who missed the squadron from Toulon, 
And always came too late, or else too soon ! 
All these are heroes ! whose great actions claim 
Immortal honours to their dying fame. 

And ought not to have been denied 
On thy great Counterscarp ! to have their valour tried. 

Why have not these, upon thy spreading Stage, 

Tasted the keener justice of the Age ? 

If 'tis because their crimes are too remote, 

Whom leaden-footed Justice has forgot ; 
Let 's view the modern scenes of fame. 
If Men and Management are not the same? 
When fleets go out with money and with men, 
Just time enough to venture home again. 



. Defoe. 
703. 



fuiy^itos-] Who should be in the Pillory. 211 

Navies prepared to guard the insulted coast; 

And convoys settled, when our ships are lost. 

Some heroes lately come from sea, 
If they were paid their due, should stand with thee ! 

Papers too should their deeds relate 

To prove the justice of their fate. 
Their deeds of war, at Port St. Mary's done ; 
And set the Trophies by them, which they won ! 
Let ORlMOnJd's Declaration there appear! 
He 'd certainly be pleased to see them there. 

Let some good limner represent 

The ravished nuns ! the plundered town ! 

The English honour how misspent ! 
The shameful Coming Back, and little done! 

The Vigo men should next appear 

To triumph on thy Theatre ! 
They who, on board the great Galleons had been. 
Who robbed the Spaniards first, and then the Queen 1 
Set up the praises, to their valour due ; 
How Eighty Sail had beaten Twenty-two I 

Two troopers so, and one dragoon 
Conquered a Spanish boy at Pampelune ! 

Yet let them Or[mon]d's conduct own ! 
Who beat them first on shore, or little had been done ! 

What unknown spoils from thence are come 1 
How much was brought away; how little, home I 
If all the thieves should on thy Scaffold stand 

Who robbed their masters in Command ; 

The multitude would soon outdo 

The City crowds of Lord Mayor's Show I 

Upon thy Penitential Stools, 
Some people should be placed, for fools ! 
As some, for instance, who, while they look on, 



212 Who should be in the Pillory. [_^gfui?r7°ol 

See others plunder all, and they get none. 

Next the Lieutenant General, 
To get the Devil, lost the De'il and all : 

And he, some little badge should bear 
Who ought, in justice, to have hanged them there I 

This had his honour more maintained 

Than all the spoils at Vigo joined. 

Then clap thy v^^ooden Wings for joy, 
And greet the Men of Great Employ 1 
The authors of the Nation's discontent, 
And scandal of a Christian Government ! 
Jobbers and Brokers of the City Stocks, 
With forty thousand tallies at their backs, 
Who make our Banks and Companies obey, 

Or sink them all the Shortest Way ! 

The intrinsic value of our Stocks 
Is stated in their calculating books, 
The imaginary prizes rise and fall 
As they command who toss the ball. 

Let them upon thy lofty Turrets stand. 
With bear-skins on the back. Debentures in the hand 1 

And write in capitals upon the post, 

That here they should remain 

Till this enigma they explain : 
How Stocks should fall, when Sales surmount the cost ; 

And rise again when ships are lost. 

Great Monster of the Law, exalt thy head 1 
Appear no more in masquerade ! 
In homely phrase, express thy discontent I 
And move it in the approaching Parliament ! 

Tell them, how Paper went, instead of Coin ; 
With interest Eight per cent., and discount Nine ! 

Of Irish transport debts unpaid, 



D. Defoe 1 \y pj q SHOULD BE IN THE PiLLORY. 21 ^ 



29 July 1703. 



Bills false endorsed, and long accounts unmade ! 
And tell them all the Nation hopes to see, \ 
They '11 send the guilty down to thee ! r 
Rather than those that write their history. ) 

Then bring those Justices upon thy bench, 
Who vilely break the Laws they should defend ; 

And upon Equity intrench 
By punishing the crimes they will not mend. 

Set every vicious Magistrate 
Upon thy sumptuous Chariot of State ! 

There, let them all in triumph ride ! 
Their purple and their scarlet laid aside. 

Such who with oaths and drunk'ness sit 
And punish far less crimes than they commit : 

These, certainly, deserve to stand, 
With Trophies of Authority in either hand. 

Upon thy Pulpit, set the drunken Priest, 
Who turns the Gospel into a jest ! 
Let the Fraternity degrade him there. 

Lest they, like him appear ! 
These, let him his memento mori preach ; 
And by example, not by doctrine, teach ! 

If a poor Author has embraced thy Wood, 
Only because he was not understood ; 
They punish Mankind but by halves, 

Till they stand there. 
Who false to their own principles appear ; 

And cannot understand themselves ! 

Those Nimshites, who with furious zeal drive on 
And build up Rome to pull down Babylon, 
The real Authors of the Shortest Way, 
Who for destruction, not conversion pray. 



14 Who should be in the Pillory. [29 jiij^ito*' 

There let these Sons of Strife remain, 

Till this Church Riddle they explain ! 
How at Dissenters they can raise a storm, 

But would not have them all conform ? 
For there, their certain ruin would come in ; 
And Moderation (which they hate !) begin. 
Some Churchmen next would grace thy Pews, 
Who talk of Loyalty, they never use : 
Passive Obedience well becomes thy Stage, 
For both have been the Banter of the Age. 

Get them but once within thy reach, 
Thou 'It make them practise, what they used to teach ! 

Next bring some Lawyers to thy Bar ! 

By innuendo, they might all stand there. 

There let them expiate that guilt, 

And pay for all that blood their tongues have spilt ; 

These are the Mountebanks of State. ] 

Why, by the slight of tongue, can crimes create, f 
And dress up trifles in the robes of Fate ■' 

The Mastiffs of a Government 
To worry and run down the innocent 1 

The Engines of infernal Wit 

Covered with cunning and deceit ! 
Satan's sublimest attribute they use ; 

For first they tempt, and then accuse 1 
No vows or promises can bind their hands : 

Submissive Law obedient stands ! 
When Power concurs, and lawless Force stands by ; 
He 's lunatic that looks for Honesty ! 

There sat a man of mighty fame, 
Whose actions speak him plainer than his name ; 
In vain he struggled, he harangued in vain 
To bring in " Whipping sentences " again ! 



29 j^iy^iw"] Who should be in the Pillory. 215 

And to debauch a milder Government 
With abdicated kinds of punishments ! 

No wonder he should Law despise, 

Who, Jesus Christ himself denies ! 

His actions only now direct 

What we, when he is made a J[udg]e expect. 

Set L[ove]ll next to this Disgrace 
With Whitney's horses staring in his face ! 

There, let his Cup of Penance be kept full ! 

Till he 's less noisy, insolent, and dull. 

When all these heroes have passed o'er thy Stage, 
And thou hast been the Satyr of the Age ; 
Wait then a while, for all those Sons of Fame 
Whom Present Power has made too great to name ! 
Fenced from thy Hands, they Keep our Verse in awe ; 
Too great for Satyr ! too great for Law ! 

As they, their Commands lay down ; 
They All shall pay their homage to the Cloudy Throne ! 

And till within thy reach they be, 

Exalt them in effigy ! 

The martyrs of the by-past reign, 
For whom new Oaths have been prepared in vain. 
She[rloc]k's disciple, first by him trepanned 
He for a k[nave], as they for f[ool]s should stand ; 
Though some affirm he ought to be excused, 

Since to this day, he had refused. 
And this was all the frailty of his life, 

He d d his conscience, to oblige his wife ! 

But spare that Priest, whose tottering conscience kne , 
That if he took but one, he perjured two ; 
Bluntly resolved he would not break them both, 
And swore, " By God ! he'd never take the Oath ! " 

Hang him ! he can't be fit for thee ! 

For his unusual honesty. 



2i6 Who should be in the Pillory, [^gj^i^ito^ 

Thou Speaking Trumpet of men's fame, 

Enter in every Court, thy claim ! 
Demand them all (for they are all thy own) 
Who swear to three Kings, but are true to none. 

Turncoats of all sides, are thy due ! 
And he who once is false is never true, 
To-day can swear, to-morrow can abjure ; 
For Treachery 's a crime no man can cure. 
Such, without scruple, for the Time to come, 
May swear to all the Kings in Christendom ! 

But he 's a mad man will rely 

Upon their lost fidelity ! 



They that, in vast employments rob the State, 
Let them in thy Embraces, meet their fate ! 
Let not the millions, they by fraud obtain 
Protect them from the scandal, or the pain ! 
They who from mean beginnings grow 
To vast estates, but God knows how I 
Who carry untold sums away 
From little Places, with but little pay ! 

Who costly palaces erect, 
The thieves that built them to protect : 
The gardens, grottoes, fountains, walks, and groves 
Where Vice triumphs in pride and lawless love ; 
Where mighty luxury and drunk'ness reign^ 
Profusely spend what they profanely gain ! 
Tell them, Mene Tekel 's on the wall ! 
Tell them, the nation's money paid for all I 



Advance thy double Front, and show, 
And let us both the Crimes and Persons know 1 
Place them aloft upon thy Throne, 



29 j^iy^iTO-] Inverted Justice PUNISHING HONEST MEN. 217 

Who slight the nation's business for their own ! 
Neglect their posts, in spite of double pay; 
And run us all in debt the Shortest Way ! 



What need of Satyr to reform the Town, 

Or Laws to keep our vices down ? 

Let them to Thee due homage pay, 
This will reform us all the Shortest Way ! 
Let them to Thee, bring all the knaves and fools ! 

Virtue will guide the rest by rules. 
They '11 need no treacherous friends, no breach of faith, 
No hired evidence with their infecting breath, 

No servants masters to betray, 

Or Knights of the Post, who swear for pay ! 
No injured Author '11 on thy Steps appear ; 
Not such as won't be rogues, but such as are I 



The first Intent of Laws 
Was to correct the Effect, and check the Cause ; 

And all the Ends of Punishment 
Were only future mischiefs to prevent. 

But Justice is inverted when 

Those Engines of the Law, 
Instead of pinching vicious men, 

Keep honest ones in awe ! 

Thy business is, as all men know, 
To punish villains, not to make men so 1 



Whenever then, thou art prepared 
To prompt that vice, thou should'st reward, 
And by the terrors of thy grisly Face 



2i8 Crime is all the shame of Punishment. [^gfuiyilH 

Make men turn rogues to shun disgj-ace ; 
The End of thy Creation is destroyed ; 
Justice expires, of course ! and Law 's made void ! 



What are thy terrors ? that, for fear of thee, 

Mankind should dare to sink their honesty? 
He 's bold to impudence that dares turn knave, 

The scandal of thy company to save ! 
He that will crimes he never knew, confess. 
Does, more than if he know those crimes, transgress ! 

And he that fears thee, more than to be base ; 

May want a heart, but does not want a face ! 



', hou, like the Devil dost appear. 
Blacker than really thou art, by far ! 

A wild chimeric notion of Reproach ; 
Too little for a crime, for none too much. 

Let none th'indignity resent ; 
For Crime is all the shame of Punishment ! 



Thou Bugbear of the Law ! stand up and speak I 
Thy long misconstrued silence break ! 

Tell us, Who 'tis, upon thy Ridge stands there, 
So full of fault, and yet so void of fear? 
And from the Paper in his hat, 
Let all mankind be told for what ! 



Tell them, It was, because he was too bold ! 

And told those truths which should not have been told ! 

Extol the Justice of the land ; 
Who punish what they will not understand ! 



sgft^itol] And can't commit his crimes! 219 

Tell them, He stands exalted there 
For speaking what we would not hear ! 
And yet he might have been secure, 
Had he said less, or would he have said more! 



Tell them that, This is his reward, 

And worse is yet for him prepared ; 
Because his foolish virtue was so nice, 
As not to sell his friends, according to his friends' advice ! 

And thus he 's an example made, 
To make men, of their honesty afraid ; 
That for the Time to come, they may 
More willingly, their friends betray ! 

Tell them. The m[en] that placed him here, 
Are sc[anda]ls to the Times ! 

Are at a loss to find his guilt, 

And can't commit his crimes ! 

FINIS. 




^'J°5:] Title Page of the First Volume of Review. 2 2 1 

A 

REVIEW 

OF THE 

Affairs of FRANCE: 

AND OF ALL 

EUROPE, 

As Influenc'd by that Nation: 

BEING 

Historical Observations on the Public Transactions of the 

WORLD; Purged from the Errors and Partiality of 

News-Writers, and Petty Statesmen of all Sides : 

WITH AN 

Entertaining Part in every Sheet, 

BEING 

Advice from the Scandalfous] Club, 

To the Curious Enquirers ; in Answer to Letters 

sent them for that Purpose. 

LONDON: 

Printed in the Year M D C C V . 




222 

Preface to the First Volume of 
the Review. 

Hen Authors present their Works to the 
world ; like a thief at the gallows, they 
make a speech to the people. 

The Author, indeed, has something like 
this to say too, " Good people all, take 
warning by me ! " I have studied to inform 
and to direct the World, and what have I 
had for my labour ? 
Profit, the Press would not allow ; and therein I am not 
deceived, for I expected none ! But Good Manners and 
Good Language, I thought I might expect ; because I gave 
no other : and it were but just to treat mankind, as we would 
be treated by them. But neither has this been paid me, in 
debt to custom and civility. 

How often have my ears, my hands, and my head been to 
be pulled off! Impotent bullies! that attacked by Truth, 
and their vices stormed, fill the air with rhodomontades and 
indecencies ; but never shew their faces to the resentment 
Truth had a just cause to entertain for them. 

I have passed through clouds of clamour, cavil, ralliery, 
and objection ; and have this satisfaction, that Truth being 
the design, Finis coronat ! 

I am never forward to value my own performances. " Let 
another man's mouth praise thee ! " said the Wise Man : 
but I cannot but own myself infinitely pleased, and more 
than satisfied, that wise men read this Paper with pleasure, 
own the just observations in it, and have voted it useful. 

The first design [the Review of the Affairs of France, S-c] I 
allow is not yet pursued, and indeed I must own the field is 
so large, the design so vast, and the necessary preliminaries 
so many; that though I cannot yet pass for an old man, I 
must be so, if I live to go through with it. 

This Volume has passed through my descriptions of the 
French Grandeur, with its influence on the Affairs of Poland, 
Sweden, and Hungary. What assaults have I met with, 
from the impatience of the readers ; what uneasiness of 
friends, lest I was turned about to the enemy : I leave to 
their reading the sheets to discover! 



^'^itosG From French History, to English Trade. 223 

How is this Age unqualified to bear feeling [the] Truth ! 
how unwilling to hear what we do not like, though ever so 
necessary to know ! 

And yet if this French Monarchy were not very powerful, 
vastly strong, its power terrible, its increasing encroaching 
measures formidable ; why do we (and justly too) applaud, 
extol, congratulate, and dignify the victorious Duke of Marl- 
borough at such a rate ? If it had been a mean and con- 
temptible enemy, how shall we justify the English Army's 
march [i.e., to Blenheim] through so many hazards! the 
nation's vast charge! the daily just concern in every article 
of this War ! and (as I have frequently hinted) Why not beat 
them, all this while ? 

They who have made, or may make, an ill use of the true 
Plan of French Greatness, which I have laid down ; must place 
it to the account of their own corrupted prejudiced thoughts. 
My design is plain. To tell you the strength of your enemy, 
that you may fortify yourselves in due proportion ; and not 
go out with your ten thousands against his twenty thousands. 

In like manner, I think myself very oddly handled, in the 
case of the Swedes and the Hungarians. How many com- 
plaints of Ambassadors for the one, and of fellow Protestants 
for the other! And yet, after the whole Story is finished, I have 
this felicity (than which no author can desire a greater) 
viz., not one thing I ever affirmed, but was exactly true ! not 
one conjecture have I made, but has appeared to be rational ! 
not one inference drawn, but the consequences [the events] 
have proved [to be] just ! and not one thing guessed at, but 
what has come to pass ! 

I am now come home to England, and entered a little into 
our own Affairs. Indeed, I have advanced some things as 
to Trade, Navies, Seamen, &c., which some may think a 
little arrogant, because perfectly new. But as I have 
offered nothing but what I am always ready to make appear 
practicable, I finish my Apology by saying to the World, 
" Bring me to the test ! and the rest, I leave to time." 

In the bringing the Story of France down to the matter of 
Trade ; I confess myself surprisingly drawn into a vast 
wilderness of a subject; so large, that I know not where it 
will end. The misfortune of which is, that thinking to have 
finished it with this Volume, I found myself strangely deceived, 



2 24 Whoever ^^^^ this Undertaking finished ! [^1%% 

and indeed amazed, when I found the Story of it intended to 
be the end of this Volume ; and hardly enough of it entered 
upon, to say it is begun. 

However, the Volume being of necessity to be closed, I 
am obliged to content myself with taking what is here as an 
Introduction to the next Volume ; and to give this notice, 
that the matter of our English Trade appears to be a thing 
of such consequence to be treated of, so much pretended to, 
and so little understood, that nothing could be more profitable 
to the readers, more advantageous to the public Interest of 
this nation, or more suitable to the greatness of this under- 
taking, than to make an Essay at the Evils, Causes, and 
Remedies of our general Negoce. 

I have been confirmed in my opinion of the consequences 
and benefit of this Undertaking, by a crowd of entreaties 
from persons of the best judgement, and some of extra- 
ordinary genius in these affairs : whose letters are my 
authority for this clause, and whose arguments are too 
forcible for me to resist. 

And this is to me, a sufficient Apology for a vast digres- 
sion from the Affairs of France, which were really in my first 
design; and to which, my title at first too straightly bound me. 

Whoever shall live to see this Undertaking finished, if the 
Author (or some better pen after him) shall bring 20 or 30 
Volumes of this Work on the Stage, it will not look so pre- 
posterous, as it seems now, to have one whole Volume to be 
employed on the most delightful as well as profitable subject 
of the English Trade. 

Things at short distance, look large ! and public patience 
is generally very short : but when remote, the case alters, 
and people see the reason of things in themselves. It is this 
remote prospect of affairs which I have before me. And 
this makes me not so much regard the uneasiness people 
shew at the Story being frequently broken abruptly, and run- 
ning great lengths before it revolves upon itself again : but 
as Time and the Course of Things will bring all about again, 
and make the whole to be of a piece with itself; I am con- 
tent to wait the approbation of the readers, till such time as the 
thing itself forces it from the at present impatient readers. 

Readers are strange judges when they see but part of the 
design. It is a new thing for an Author to lay down his 



D. Defoe 

1705, 



;] Defoe's disregard for a polished Style. 225 



thoughts piece-meal. Importunate cavils assault him every 
day. They claim to be answered to-day ! before to-morrow ! 
and are so far from staying till the Story is finished, that 
they can hardly stay till their letters come to hand ; but 
follow the first with a second ! that with clamour ! and this 
sometimes with threatening scoffs, banters, and raillery ! 

Thus I am letter-baited by Querists ; and I think my 
trouble in writing civil private answers to teasing and 
querulous epistles, has been equal to, if not more troublesome 
than, all the rest of this Work. 

Through these difficulties I steer w^ith as much temper and 
steadiness as I can. I still hope to give satisfaction in the Con- 
clusion ; and it is this alone, that makes the continuing of the 
Work tolerable to me. If I cannot, I have made my Essay. 

If those that know these things better than I, would bless 
the World with further instructions, I shall be glad to see 
them ; and very far from interrupting or discouraging them, 
as these do me. 

Let not those Gentlemen who are critics in style, in 
method, or manner, be angry, that I have never pulled off 
my cap to them, in humble excuse for my loose way of treat- 
ing the World as to Language, Expression, and Politeness 
of Phrase. Matters of this nature differ from most things a 
man can write. When I am busied writing Essays and 
Matters of Science, I shall address them for their aid ; and 
take as much care to avoid their displeasure as becomes me: 
but when I am upon the subject of Trade and the Variety of 
Casual Story, I think myself a little loose from the Bonds of 
Cadence and Perfections of Style ; and satisfy myself in my 
study to be explicit, easy, free, and very plain. And for all 
the rest. Nee Careo! Nee Curo ! 

I had a design to say something on the Entertaining Part 
of this Paper : but I have so often explained myself on that 
head, that I shall not trouble the World much about it. 

When I first found the Design of this Paper (which had 
its birth in tenehris) : I considered it would be a thing very 
historical, very long ; and [even] though it could be much 
better performed than ever I was likely to do it, this Age 
had such a natural aversion to a solemn and tedious affair, 
that however profitable, it would never be diverting, and the 
World would never read it. 



2 26 My firm resolution to exalt Virtue, &c. [° 



Defoe. 
1705. 



To get over this difficulty, the Secret Hand (I make no 
doubt) that directed this birth into the World, dictated to 
make some sort of entertainment or amusement at the end 
of every Paper, upon the immediate subject, then on the tongues 
of the Town; which innocent diversion w^ould hand on the 
more weighty and serious part of the Design into the heads 
and thoughts of those to whom it might be useful. 

I take this opportunity to assure the World, that receiving 
or answering letters of doubts, difficulties, cases, and 
questions ; as it is a work I think myself very meanly 
qualified for, so it was the remotest thing from my first 
Design of anything in the World : and I could be heartily 
glad, if the readers of this Paper would excuse me from it 
yet. But I see it cannot be, and the World will have it 
done. I have therefore done my best to oblige them; but as 
I have not one word to say for my performance that way, so 
I leave it where I found it, a mere circumstance casually 
and undesignedly annexed to the Work, and a curiosity; 
though honestly endeavoured to be complied with. 

If the method I have taken in answering Questions has 
pleased some wiser men more than I expected it would ; I 
confess it is one of the chief reasons why I was induced to 
continue it. 

I have constantly adhered to this rule in all my Answers ; 
and I refer my reader to his observation for the proof, that 
from the loosest and lightest questions, I endeavour to draw 
some useful inferences, and, if possible, to introduce some- 
thing solid, and something solemn in applying it. 

The custom of the ancients in writing fables is my very laud- 
able pattern for this : and my firm resolution, in all I write, to 
exalt Virtue, expose Vice, promote Truth, and help men to Se- 
rious Reflection,is my firstmoving Cause.and last directed End. 

If any shall make ill use of, wrest, wrongly interpret, 
wilfully or otherwise mistake the honest Design of this 
Work ; let such wait for the end ! when I doubt not, the 
Author will be cleared by their own vote ; their want of 
charity will appear, and they be self-condemned till they 
come to acknowledge their error, and openly to justify 

Their humble servant, D. F. 

D. F. [i.e., Daniel Foe. Notice the change of the name into DEFOE, 
at the end of the next Pre/ace, 2Xp. 231.] 




227 

Preface to the Second Volume 
of the Review. 

His Volume of the Reviews requires but a 
short Preface : and yet it requires a Preface 
perhaps more than the former [one] ; the 
frequent turning of the Author's design 
demanding something to be said for it. 

In pursuing the subject of Trade, with 
which this Part began, I really thought to 
have taken up this whole Volume ; and I 
know a great many people impatiently bear the delay, having 
great expectations of something very useful as well as di- 
verting on the subject of Trade. I wish their dependence 
upon me in that case, may be answered to their content. 

I have indeed laid a vast Scheme of Trade to discourse 
upon, and shall, in the next Volume, endeavour to finish it 
to the best of my capacity : but a word or two to this Volume, 
by the way. 

While I was pursuing the subject of Trade, I received a 
powerful diversion, from our own Public Affairs. The dis- 
solution of the late Parliament, with some particular trans- 
actions of their last session, known by the title of Dangerous 
Experiments, Tackings, and the like, made a more than usual 
fermentation in this Kingdom. 

I saw with concern, the mighty juncture of a new Election 
for Members approach. The variety of wheels and engines 
set on work in the nation, and the furious methods to form 
Interests on either hand, had put the tempers of men on all 
sides into an unusual motion, and things seemed acted with 
so much animosity and Party fury that I confess it gave me 
terrible apprehensions of the consequences. 

I am sorry to say, that the methods on both sides, seemed 
to me very scandalous ; and the low steps our Gentlemen 
sometimes take to be chosen, merit some Satyr ; and perhaps 
in time may have it ! But the inveteracy in the tempers of 
people at this time, seemed to have something fatal in it ; some- 
thing that deserved not a Satyr,but a sad and serious Application. 
Each side strove, with indefatigable pains and exceeding 
virulence, to set up their own Party. All the slanders, re- 



228 I EXHORT ALL PEOPLE TO STUDY PeACE. [ 



D. Defoe. 
1706 



proaches, and villifying terms possible filled the mouths of 
one Party against another. If I should say that, in many 
places, most horrid and villainous practices were set on foot 
to supplant one another, that the Parties stooped to vile and 
unbecoming meannesses, and that infinite briberies, forgeries, 
perjuries, and all manner of debaucheries of the principles 
and manners of the Electors were attempted ; I am told I 
should say nothing but what might easily be made to appear. 

That all sorts of violence, tumults, riots, and breaches of 
the peace neighbourhood and good manners have been made 
use of to support Interests, and carry on Elections ; the black 
history of the Election of C[oven]try preparing for the public 
view, will, I dare say, defend me in advancing. 

That this sad scene of affairs, I confess, gave a melancholy 
view; and I thought I saw this nation running directly upon 
the steep precipice of General Confusion. In the serious re- 
flecting on this, and how I might, if possible, contribute to the 
good of my native country, as I thought every honest man 
was bound to do ; I bestowed some thoughts on the serious 
inquiry, " What was to be done ? " 

In the short search into the state of the nation, it presently 
appeared to me that all our pretensions, on either side, were 
frivolous, but that the breach lay deeper than appeared ; that 
the designs lay in a few, though the whole nation was in- 
volved ; that King James, the French Power, and a general 
Turn of Affairs was at the bottom ; and the quarrels betwixt 
Church and Dissenters were only a politic noose, they had 
hooked the Parties on both sides into, which they diligently 
carried on to such height as they hoped it would end in a 
rupture, and then they should open a gap to come in and 
destroy both. 

It presently occurred to my mind, how easily all this might 
be remedied ! how easily this enemy might be disappointed ! 
and that here wants but one thing to heal all this mischief. 
But one slight matter would make all whole again : and this 
is included in this one word PARTY-PEACE. 

Full satisfied of the certainty of my opinion, I immediately 
set myself in the Review No 19 [of Vol. II. of 17th April, 
1705], to exhort, persuade, entreat, and in the most moving 
terms I was capable of, to prevail on all people in general, 
to STUDY PEACE. 



'^itoeGNoNE BUT THE MeN OF pEACE ARE MY FRIENDS ! 229 

I thought to have written but that one Paper on this sub- 
ject, persuading myself the plainness of the argument must 
be of such force that men's eyes would be opened, and take the 
useful hint ; and there would be no more need to talk about 
it : and accordingly went on with the old subject of Trade. 

But as all my friends, and generally all the men of peace 
(for, I thank GOD ! none but such are my friends !) saw the 
necessity and usefulness of the subject ; they came about me 
with incessant importunities to go on with it. 

I have not vanity enough to own the success of these 
Papers in this undertaking, not to say what some are pleased 
to say of it. It is my satisfaction that wise men have owned 
them useful ; and a greater honour I cannot desire. 

I have, with an impartial warmth, addressed myself to all 
sorts of people, on the behalf of Peace : and if I am proud of 
anything in it, it is that Providence has been pleased to 
direct things so, that the Public Measures have, in many cases, 
come up to what I foresaw, was the only means of our safety. 

If I have said the same thing with our late Votes, Speeches, 
and Proclamations, in my Observations on the pretended 
danger of the Church : it is not only an honour to me, that 
Her Majesty and the Parliament repeat almost my very 
words; but it is a glorious testimony to the Truth, that it 
leads all persons that sincerely follow it, to the same conclu- 
sions, and often the same expression. And I glory that I 
have such a voucher to what I said, viz., " That the false 
clamours of plots against the Church appear to be formed 
on purpose to conceal real plots against the Church of 
England." Review No. 86. p. 341 [of Vol. II. of the 20th 
September, 1705J. 

Let none of the well-wishers to Peace be angry that I saw 
this before them. It is their happiness they see it now ! 
Envy no man ! 

But I have a most undeniable testimony of the success of 
this Paper in the great work of National Peace, in the im- 
placable rage and malice of the Hot Party : in which, they 
witness to the hurt this Paper hath done to their cause ; and 
they have my humble acknowledgement that they can do 
me and this Labour no greater honour. 

It would be endless to me, and tiresome to the Reader, to 
repeat the threatening letters, the speeches, the opprobrious 



230 The Nation embraces Peace with great joy. [°; 



Defoe. 
706. 



terms, the Bear-Garden insulting language I have, daily, 
thrown upon me, in all parts, for persuading men to Peace. 
If I had been assassinated as often as I have been threatened 
with pistols, daggers, and swords ; I had long ago paid dear 
for this Undertaking ! 

But I go naked [without arms] and unguarded. These 
Gentlemen are harmless enemies. They are like Colonel 
L[ ]'s Sergeant at S[ ]ld; that, while I was there, 
said not a word to me ; but as soon as I was gone, was for 
doing terrible things to me, when he could find me ! Or like 
Justice S[ ]d of Devonshire, that issued his Warrant for 
me, and caused all the houses in the town to be searched 
except that he knew I lodged in ; and sent to every part of the 
country [county] for me, but that to which he knew I was gone. 

I remark nothing, from these passages, so much as the 
weak grounds these people know they have, for their resent- 
ment. Is it possible a man can merit so much ill will for 
persuading men to Peace ?. Were it not that their designs 
being from another place, and of another kind ; the heavenly 
glorious spirit of Peace is particularly hateful and unpleasant 
to them. 

Well, Gentlemen, so the Peace be wrought ; let what will 
become of me, I am unsolicitous ! and, blessed be GOD ! it 
is effectually wrought ! The victory is gained, the battle is 
over, and I have done 1 

Why did I solicit to have all cavilling Papers suppressed ? 
Not that we have not the better of the argument in every 
case ; for really the adverse Party have nothing to say ! And 
as I had not begun this Paper but with a prospect of a justi- 
fiable necessity ; so the work being over, the necessity 
ceases ; and, lo, I return to the matter I was on before ; and 
the writing of and persuading to Peace ends with the Volume, 
because the thing is obtained. The nation embraces Peace 
with a universal joy, and there remains now no more occasion 
to persuade. 

How easy, how satisfied, how pleased does all the nation 
appear ! Peace and joy sit on the faces of our people. Not 
one man that has any regard for, or sense of the Public Good 
but rejoices at it ! How people congratulate one another ! 
and bless the Time 1 the Queen ! the Government ! and every 
instrument of this extraordinary Turn of Affairs ! 



^,f°|;]FiNE Paper copies of the Review given away. 2 3 1 

What glory has this happy conjunction brought to Her 
Majesty's reign ! From this time, the nation will take the 
date of her new prosperity ! and the reign of this Queen, like 
that of Queen Elizabeth, will be ranked in history, among 
those of the most fortunate of the nation ! Nor can Posterity 
do Her Majesty justice, if they do not own that this universal 
happiness has had its rise in the Court. The Queen has not 
only the honour, but Her Majesty has been really the Instru- 
ment of this peace ! and would our wiser Hot Party have 
given due regard to Her Majesty's exhortations, this peace 
had been brought to pass a great while sooner. 

We have had formerly, a great struggle between Court 
Party and Country Party ; and always saw cause to suspect 
the former of encroaching on our liberties : but the case is 
quite contrary here. Her Majesty so espouses the real 
Interest of her people, and obliges all that depend on her 
service to do so ; that Patriots are our Courtiers, the Prince's 
favourites are the People's favourites, and our safety is now 
found in them we used always to be afraid of. Such effects 
have wise Princes upon their affairs, that regis ad exemphim, 
the Crown shall be the People's Saviour, and the Men of 
Rights and Privileges become the Men of Oppression and 
Confusions. 

May our sense of this Peace, and of Her Majesty's care of 
the privileges and properties of subjects continually increase ! 
that the Obligation [see p. yy] to such a Princess may sink 
deep in the minds of these people, and they may follow those 
exhortations to Union and Peace, which Her Majesty exhorts 
to encourage, and has had such success in attempting. 

This Volume is now ended. Those Gentlemen that think 
this Work useful enough to deserve binding it, have herewith 
an Index of the particulars for their convenience. 

I shall be very glad our Peace may be so settled that, in 
future Ages, there may be no occasion to make these Papers 
further useful. D E FOE. 

ADVERTISEMENT. 

The Gentlemen who were pleased to be Subscribers for the encourage- 
ment of this Work, in spite of all the banters and reproaches of the 
Town ; if they please to send to Mr. Matthews^ may have the Volume 
of this past year delivered them gratis, printed upon the fine paper. 



232 




Preface to the Third Volume of the 

Review. 

[1706.] 

HAS been the misfortune of this Paper, 
among all the other rubs it has had in its 
way, that the Volumes have been a little too 
much depending upon one another. 

Such has been the Course of the Subject, 
the length of the Circumstance then on foot, 
or the absence of the Author, that the Story 
and the Book have not brought their periods to 
jump exactly. Thus it was in the last Volume, which broke 
off in the middle of the great Undertaking which the Author, 
at the utmost hazard, went through, in pressing this nation to 
Peace, and warning them against a sort of people, then 
known by the names of Tackers and Tories. 

And thus it is now, when pursuing the same general good 
of his native country, the Author has embarked in the great 
affair of the Union of Britain. 

I must confess I have sometimes thought it very hard, 
that having voluntarily, without the least direction, resis- 
tance, or encouragement (in spite of all that has been 
suggested), taken upon me the most necessary work of 
removing national prejudices against the two most capital 
blessings of the World, Peace and Union ; I should have 
the disaster to have the nations receive the Doctrine, and 
damn the Teacher. That even those that have owned the 
truth of what has been said, and even the seasonableness of 
saying it, have nevertheless flown in the face of the Instru- 
ment : endeavouring to break the poor earthen vessel, by 
which the rich treasure (viz. the Knowledge of their own 
Happiness) has been conveyed. 

Indeed, I cannot but complain ! and should I descend to 
particulars, it would hardly appear credible that in a 
Christian, a Protestant, Reformed nation, any man could 
receive such treatment, as I have done, from even those very 
people whose consciences and judgements have stooped to 
the venerable Truth ; and owned it has been useful, service- 
able, and seasonable. 

It would make this Preface a History, to relate the 



^ij^:] What has Defoe to do with Public Affairs ? 233 

reproaches, the insults, the contempt with which these Papers 
have been treated, in discourse, writing, and print ; even by 
those that say they are embarked in the same Cause, and 
pretend to write for the same Public Good. 

The charge made against me, of partiality, of bribery, of pen- 
sions and payments : a thing, the circumstances, family, and 
fortunes of a man devoted to his country's peace, clears me of. 

If paid, Gentlemen ! for writing, if hired, if employed ; 
why still harassed with merciless and malicious men ? why 
pursued to all extremities by Law for old accounts, which 
you clear other men of, every day ? why oppressed, dis- 
tressed, and driven from his family ; and from all his pros- 
pects of delivering them or himself ? Is this the fate of men 
employed and hired ? Is this the figure, the agents of 
Courts and Princes make ? 

Certainly, had I been hired or employed, those people that 
own the service [employed me] would, by this time, have set 
their servant free from the little and implacable malice of 
litigious prosecutions, murdering Warrants, and men whose 
mouths are to be stopped by trifles. 

Let this suffice, then, to clear me of all the little and scan- 
dalous charge, of being hired and employed. 

I come next to examine what testimonies I have of this 
Work being my proper employ. For some of our good 
friends, whose Censure runs before their Charity, attack me 
with this. " Ay, it is true ! These things are so : but what has 
he to do to meddle with it ? What has he to do, to examine the 
conduct of Parliament men, or exhort the People to this or that ? " 

Wise Gentlemen, in truth, pray go on with it ! " Sirs, ay, 
it is true, he did happen to see a house just on fire : but what had 
he to do to make a noise, wake all the neighbourhood, fright[en] 
their children, and like a busy fellow, cry " Fire ! " in the night! 
It was none of his neighbourhood ! He had ne'er a house there ! 
What business had he to meddle ? " 

Or to put it another way. *' Ay, indeed, he did happen to see 
a parcel of rogues breaking up a Gentleman's house in the night ; 
hut what business had he to go and raise the country [county] 
upon them ! cry " Thieves ! " and " Murder ! " and I know not 
what ! and so bring a parcel of poor fellows to the gallows I 
What business had he with it ? It was none of his house ! " 



234 Defoe has land and children, p- '^fj^. 

Truly, Gentlemen, this is just the case. I saw a parcel of 
people caballing together to ruin Property, corrupt the 
Laws, invade the Government, debauch the People ; and in 
short, enslave and embroil the Nation : and I cried " Fire ! " 
or rather, I cried " Water ! " for the fire was begun already. 
I saw all the nation running into confusions, and directly 
flying in the face of one another, and cried out ** Peace ! " I 
called upon all sorts of people that had any senses, to collect 
them together and judge for themselves, what they were 
going to do ; and excited them to lay hold of the madmen, and 
take from them the wicked weapon, the knife ; with which 
they were going to destroy their mother ! rip up the bowels 
of their country ! and at last effectually ruin themselves ! 

And what had I to do with this ? Why, yes. Gentlemen, I 
had the same right as every man that has a footing in his 
country, or that has a posterity to possess Liberty and claim 
Right, must have : viz., as far as possible to preserve the 
Laws, Liberty, and Government of that country to which he 
belongs. And he that charges me with meddling in what 
does not concern me, meddles himself with what, it is plain 
he does not understand. 

Well, through all the maltreatment of both friends and 
enemies, I have hitherto, undiscouraged by the worst cir- 
cumstances, unrewarded and unsupported, pursued the first 
design of pressing all people that have any regard for the 
Interest of Religion, the honour of their country, and the 
good of posterity, to come to a Temper about Party strifes ! 
to shorten their disputes ! encourage calmness ! and revive 
the old Christian principle of Love to one another. 

I shall not boast here of my success. Let the rage and 
implacable hatred against me, conceived by the enemies of 
this healing principle ; let the confessions of those who reap 
the benefit and own the service, though they abandon and 
despise the Instrument ; let these be my witnesses ! and 
these shall testify for me, that I have not been an unprofit- 
able servant to anybody but myself! and of that, I am 
entirely regardless in this case. 

From the same zeal with which I first pursued this blessed 
subject of Peace, I found myself embarked in the farther 



^1*7*^.] Attempts at removing National Prejudices 235 

extent of it, I mean, THE UNION. If I thought myself 
obliged, in duty to the Public Interest, to use my utmost 
endeavour to quiet the minds of enraged Parties ; I found 
myself under a stronger necessity to embark in the same 
design, between too much enraged Nations. 

As to the principle, from which I have acted, I shall leave 
to the issues of Time, to determine whether it has been 
sincere or not ? Hypocrites only make use of masks and 
false lights to conceal present reserved designs : Truth and 
Sincerity only dare appeal to Time and Consequences. 

I covet no better testimony of the well-laid design of these 
Sheets, than that evidence Time and farther light into Truth 
shall discover ! 

I saw the Union of the two Kingdoms begun. I saw the 
principle, on which both sides seemed to act, look with a 
different face, from what was ever made use of before. All 
the former treaties looked like Politic Shams, mere Amuse- 
ments and frauds to draw in and deceive the people : while 
Commissioners met, little qualified and less inclined to the 
General Good of the whole. 

But now I thought I foresaw the success of the Treaty in 
the temper, sincerity, and inclinations of the Treaters on 
both sides. They came together furnished for the work, 
convinced fully of the advantages on both sides of it, and 
blessed with sincere intentions to bring it to pass. 

When I saw this, I thought it my duty to do my part 
without doors. And I know no part I could act, in my 
sphere, so natural, so useful, and so proper to the work, as 
to attempt to remove the National Prejudices, which both 
peoples, by the casualty of time, and the errors, industry, and 
malice of Parties, had too eagerly taken up, and were too 
tenacious of, one against another. 

To this purpose, I wrote two Essays against national pre- 
judices in England [An Essay at removing National Prejudices 
against a Union with Scotland. Part I. published on 4th 
May, and Part II. on 28th May, 1706], while the Treaty was 
in agitation there : and four more in Scotland, while it was 
debating in Scotland by the Parliament there : the contents 
of all which are repeated in this Paper. 

Nor did I think my time or labour ill^ bestowed to take a 
long, tedious, and hazardous journey thither ; or to expose 



2^6 Defoe for i6 months in Scotland, p 



Defoe. 
1706. 



myself to a thousand insults, scoffs, rabbles, and tumults; 
to all manner of despiteful and injurious treatment; if pos- 
sible, to bring the people there to their senses, and free them 
from the unreasonable prejudices they had entertained 
against the prosperity of their country. 

And having seen the Treaty happily ratified there, with 
some few amendments, which I hope are not considerable ; 
I thought this a proper period to close this Volume, which 
had already run beyond its usual bounds: and the next 
Volume will begin at the Parliament of England entering 
upon the Treaty ; where I hope, it shall meet with better 
treatment than it has met with in Scotland, and a better 
reception with the people. 

If it shall be my lot to live to see this Treaty finished, I 
think to venture one Essay at the General and Reciprocal 
Duties of the two Nations, one to another. In which, I shall 
endeavour to move England, to engage Scotland with all the 
acts of kindness and all the advantages which can be desired 
in reason, in order to plant and cultivate the new relation of 
the two kingdoms : and on the other hand, to move Scotland 
to entertain no jealousies, nor be anxious about anything, 
without great reason and good ground, as the only way to 
bring about the general peace of both Kingdoms, and settle 
the doubtful minds of the people on both sides. 

This I hope I shall pursue with an equality of arguments 
on both sides, without partiality or affection to one more 
than another : and in that, shew that the original of my 
concerning myself in this matter, was merely to be service- 
able, if possible, to both Kingdoms, and to the united body 
in general. 

I doubt not, however, but I shall give offence in this too ! 
For there are a people in the world who are not to be pleased 
with anything I But I shall content myself, in pursuing 
what is the true end of Union, the flourishing of Peace, and 
the equalities on every hand, in matters of Advantage, 
Liberty, Religion, and Trade. 

I am very sensible all coalitions without this, will render 
the Union still imperfect and ineffectual. The Union will 
never have its full perfection of extent, nor will either nation 
reap the benefit of it, till it becomes a Union of Affection and 
a Union of Interest. 



^^1°^^ Preface to Fourth Volume of the Review. 237 

This is my business : and let the enemies of GOD and the 
Nation's Peace be as angry as they please, this is what I 
shall pursue to the uttermost ! This Volume ends with it ! 
the next will begin with it ! and those that cry, " It is too 
long, and it is nothing but what has been heard before ! " 
must bear with the prolixity of the Author, till they please to 
shorten the occasion. 

Whenever they please to lay aside their spirit of division, 
anger, malice, wrath, strife, &c. ; when they leave off raising 
unnecessary heats about scruples and trifles, merely to 
divide, not to inform; when National Prejudices on either 
side cease, and I can see the least prospect of a Calm among 
the men of cavil and continual objection : I shall be the first 
that shall cease calling upon them to Peace. But till then, 
the tautology is in the Crime, not in the Reprover : and I shall 
not fail to alarm them on all occasions. 



Preface to the Fourth Volume of 

the Review. 

[1708.1 

Have been so loth to interrupt the discourse 
of Public Things, that I have run this Volume 
to an unusual length : but there is a necessity 
of ending it here. 

I shall make no scruple to tell you, I think 
this Volume the best qualified to inform the 
readers of the Affair on the north side of 
Britain ; of anything at least that I have writ- 
ten. I was not unsensible, when I entered on the particulars 
of the Union, that it would cloy the wandering humour of 
this Age ; who hate to dwell upon a thing, though of never 
so great moment : nay, so eager are they to see novelty, that 
when they are best pleased with a subject in its beginning, 
yet they will never have patience to hear it out. 

However, I was content to hear the readers of this Paper 
cry, " It was dull ! " ; see them throw it by, without reading ; 
and hear them say, " He preaches so long on the Union, 
because he has nothing else to say." And, in short, all 




238 Defoe's anticipations of Siege of Toulon. [^t%l; 

manner of contempt has been thrown upon it, not because 
the Affair of the Union was not worth recording; nor was it, 
in itself, useless : but Union ! Union ! nothing but Union ! 
for four months together, glutted their fancy, and palled the 
modishness of the Town's humour. And so the poor Review 
lost its faculty of pleasing you. 

And now I am to tell you, that I value this Volume for that 
very thing, for which it lost so much of the common opinion. 
Nor is this value I put upon it, merely my own. I have the 
approbation of that valuable Few, whose judgement I have 
reason to esteem, and with which I am abundantly contented. 

The former Volumes pleased the Readers of the Day better 
than this ; and this will please the Readers of Futurity 
better than they : and thus what I lost in the Shire, I shall 
find in the Hundred; and I am very well contented. 

I am not going about to panegjTic upon my own Work in 
this : but to answer some of the innumerable cavils, which 
generally attack me in every thing I do. And this is one. 

" What does this fellow pretend to ! " says a Warm Gentle- 
man, with a band on, at a public coffee-house not far from 
Newgate street; " he has been in Scotland this twelvemonth, 
and he pretends to write a Paper in London ! What can he 
say to anything, either in its time, or to any purpose ? " 

Really, Gentlemen, I was under the inconvenience of 
distance of place ; and suffered some reproach which could 
not be avoided : particularly when a Review was published 
making some conjectures about the Siege of Toulon ; and, in 
spite of a person's care who pretended to revise it, that very 
Paper was printed the next post after the news arrived that 
the siege was raised. But though, by the negligence of the 
person I depended upon to repair that defect which my dis- 
tance occasioned, I fell into that misfortune: yet, Gentlemen, 
the guesses at, and inferences from the affair of Toulon which 
I, too unhappily, appeared right in, might very well atone for 
that slip; and does do so, in the eyes of all friendly remarkers. 

How I was treated in the affair of that siege ; how 
insulted by Observators and Rehearsers, for my suggesting you 
would be balked in that design ; how charged with directing 
the enemy, for telling you what they would do, though some 
of it was after it was done : I need not remind you of. I 
reflect on it with this satisfaction, that when the Town saw 



° ^it^:] The French attempt on Scotland in i 708. 239 

I had but made too right a judgement, and their wagers of 
70 guineas to receive 100, gave me an opportunity to upbraid 
their blind conclusions in my turn, and use them as they 
deserved : I yet forbore it, and shewed them I knew how to 
receive ill usage without returning it. 

And after all this, I must tell you, it is none of the easiest 
things in the World, to write a Paper to come out three times 
a week among you ; and perhaps be liable to more censure 
and ill usage also, than other Papers are, and yet, at the 
same time, reside for sixteen months together, at almost four 
hundred miles distance from London, and sometimes at more. 

The Volume is now ended, and the next begins with a 
new scene of Affairs. This tells you much of your behaviour 
to your brethren of North Britain, upon your uniting with 
them : the next will tell you something of their usage of you, 
after this Union. 

The French have made an Attempt on them [the attempted 
invasion of Scotland, by a fleet from Dunkirk, under Fourbin, 
in March, 1708] ; and we are yet in suspense concerning the 
issue of that affair. I must own, considering the circum- 
stances of that part of Britain, I have often wondered they 
had not done it sooner : and had they made but the like shew 
of an invasion, whether they completed it or not, in the time 
of the Treaty and Parliament, the last year [1707] ; I think 
I may safely tell you, either the Union had been made with 
more unanimity, or never made at all. 

After all, I am free to say, if the French are disappointed 
in the present Attempt they are making on that country, the 
benefit to Scotland will be worth all the fright, expense, and 
fatigue it has put us to : for it has made a great progress 
in discovering faces, and turning some people inside out. 
You have now an opportunity to separate sheep and goats ; 
and to distinguish between dissatisfied Presbyterians and 
dissatisfied Episcopal Dissenters. How one, though discon- 
tented at circumstances, is hearty and stedfast to the Founda- 
tion ; the other, though openly quiet and seemingly passive, 
yet is apparently hatching destruction to the Establishment, 
both Civil and Sacred. 

I have given you no Index to this Volume, as a thing 
which the subject of it does not so naturally require. 

In my next, I have begun, to make one part of the Work 



240 Union! Union! nothing but Union! [^-^tl^l 

to contain a kind of History of Fact ; I mean as far as relates 
to the present Affair in Scotland : and though it may look as 
if I invaded the News- Writer's province, yet I believe the 
issue will prove it otherwise. Most of what I shall com- 
municate to you, being by Hands they cannot converse with, 
and on a subject which they cannot acquaint you of. 

I should make some apology for the length of this Volume, 
which I know is some charge to the Collectors of it, but I 
know no better excuse to make for it, than by assuring you, 
if I live to finish any more, they shall be of a shorter extent : 
and to Amend an error, is Confession and Reformation best 
put together. Your humble servant, D. F. 

Volumes of this Work on the fine paper, will be ready next 
Week, to he delivered to those Gentlemen, gratis, wAo were pleased 
to he Subscrihers to the Author at his first undertaking [it]. 

J. Matthews. 

Preface to the Fifth Volume of 

the Review. 

[1709.] 

He Fifth Volume having now run a full year, 
two reasons oblige me to put an end to it. 
I. The usual bulk of the book requiring it, 
and 

The request of some Gentlemen in Scot- 
land : who have, by their own voluntary 
subscription encouraged the reprinting 
it at Edinburgh ; and being to begin at 
this Quarter, have desired that the Volume and their sub- 
scription may go on together. 

It has been customary to add a Preface to every Volume ; 
which, though placed at the beginning, is written, as this is, 
at the end of the Work. 

The great variety, this Work has gone through, gives 
indeed room for a large Preface : but I shall reduce it to a 
shorter compass than usual. 

The Author having been in Scotland, at the time of finish- 
ing the Union there [1706 — 1707] ; the last Volume and this 
are taken up, in many parts of them, with that Affair. 




D. Defoe, 
1709. 



] The Story is too long a telling. 241 



At first, the novelty of the Union took up everybody's 
thoughts, and the Town was dehghted to hear the disputed 
points, as they went on : but Novelty, this Age's whore, 
debauching their taste, as soon as they had fed on the Shell 
of the Union, they were satisfied ; and the Review entering 
into the Substance of it — they grew palled and tired. 

Like an honest Country Gentleman, who hearing his 
Minister preach most excellently on the subject of Eternal 
Blessedness, applauded him up to the skies, for his first 
sermon. The good man thinking it was useful as well as 
acceptable, or indeed thinking it would be useful because it 
was acceptable, went on with the subject. But the Gentle- 
man was observed to sleep all the while. 

It happened that a stranger coming to his house, and 
going to Church with him, was exceedingly taken with the 
admirable Discourse of the Minister: and praising him to 
the Gentleman, asked him with freedom, " How he could 
sleep, while he was upon such a sublime subject, and handled 
it so admirably well ? " 

"■ Why, truly," says he, *' I was mightily pleased with it, 
for the first sermon or two. But I hate a story that is long 
a telling 1 " 

And indeed, Gentlemen, it is too true in practice. One reason 
why your Ministers are no more acceptable, and their Preach- 
ing no more minded, is this very thing. This Story of Heaven is 
so long a telling, you hate to hear of it ! But that by the by. 

And just thus it was with the Review. The people would 
take up the Paper, and read two or three lines in it, and find 
it related to Scotland and the Union, and throw it away. 
" Union 1 Union ! this fellow can talk of nothing but Union ! 
I think he will never have done with this Union 1 He is 
grown mighty dull, of late 1 " 

And yet. Gentlemen, give me leave to tell you, you have 
hardly learnt to understand the Union all this while. The 
truth of the case is this. The story is good, but it is too long a 
telling. You hate a long story ! The palate is glutted. 
Novelty is the food you lust after : and if the story were of 
Heaven, you will be cloyed with the length of it. 

Now, Gentlemen, the Author takes the liberty to tell you, 
he knew (though distant) the general dislike, and he knew 
the disease of your reading appetite. And though, at other 



242 Join hearts as well as hands! P 



Defoe. 
1709. 



times, he has laboured to please you by variety, and divert- 
ing subjects : yet he found this Affair so necessary, so useful, 
and (with some few good judgements) so desirable, that he 
chose to be called " dull " and " exhausted," he ventured the 
general censure of the Town Critics, to pursue the subject. 
And ventures to tell you, that, among those people whose 
opinion is past any man's contempt, these Two Volumes 
pass for the most useful of the Five : and I cannot but join 
my assent to it. The Bookseller [publisher] also gives a 
testimony to the truth of this, by an observation particular 
to the trade, viz., that of these Two Volumes fewer have 
been sold in single sheets, but twice the number in Volumes 
of any of the former. 

Nor has it been without its testimony abroad, since the 
application of the Author, in this volume especially, to the 
real work of Uniting the Hearts of these two Nations, who 
have so lately joined Hands, has been received by our breth- 
ren of North Britain, as so profitable, so honest, and so needful 
a Work, that they have desired the reprinting it at Edinburgh, 
in order to its being seen throughout Scotland, and have volun- 
tarily subscribed a sufficient sum for the expense of it. 

Unhappy to you in England, is the inference I draw from 
hence, viz. : 

That it seems, you Gentlemen in England were more 
solicitous to bring the Scots into a Union, than you are to 
pursue the vital principles of that Union, now it is made. I 
mean Union of Affection, and Union of Interests ; in which 
alone, the happiness of both Kingdoms consists. 

I must confess, and I speak it to your reproach 1 the tem- 
per you shewed of Uniting, when first you put the wheels to 
work to form the Union, seemed to me quite different from 
what you shew, now it is done. As if, your politic ends 
being answered, you were diligent to discover that you did 
not unite from any true design of General Good, but for your 
Private Advantage only. Thus you seem now united to 
Scotland, but not one jot more united to the Scots nation. 

And do not call this a slander. Gentlemen ! For I can 
give you but too many instances of it, though I spare you 
for the present : my desire being to heal, not exasperate. 

But this I cannot omit. How have you permitted insolent 
scribblers to abuse, reproach, and insult the Established 



D. Defoe 

1709 



;] The Kirk not favoured like the Church. 243 



Church of Scotland ! slander the very nation ! and insult her 
Judicatories in print ! even while the very Parliament of 
Britain is sitting. And yet the Laws have not been executed 
in that behalf, nor the Legislative Authority been pleased to 
give that discouragement to it, that, in case of the Established 
Church of England being so treated, has frequently been 
done ; and, I believe, would have been done. 

I speak not to prompt any private man's persecution. My 
design is not to punish persons, but to prevent the practice. 

But, with all humble deference to the Parliament of Britain 
now sitting, and whose care and concern the Church of 
Scotland is, and ought to be, equally with the Church ol 
England; I crave their leave to ask this question. 

If the Government and Discipline, if the Doctrine and 
Worship, if the Judicatories and Authority of the Church of 
Scotland (which, by the Union, are legally established; and 
are the care of the whole nation to support) shall be trampled 
under foot, reproached, slandered and insulted, be libelled 
and falsely accused in public and in print ; without due 
resentment and legal prosecution : and, at the same, the 
same liberty with the Church of England is not taken ; or if 
taken, is not allowed, but censured and prosecuted — HOW 
THEN do the subjects of both Kingdoms enjoy equal 
privileges ? And if you do not permit the subjects of both 
Kingdoms to enjoy equal privileges ; how then is the Union 
made more and more effectual ? as has been frequently pro- 
posed to be done in our British Parliament. 

I hope there is nothing bolder in this, than may consist 
with Reason, with Truth, with Justice, and with due Respect. 

I may seem by some to reflect in this, on the Parliament's 
treating a late Paper concerning the Sacramental Test : but I 
have not my eye that way. I doubt not, but when GOD's 
time is come, when Dissenters are less easy in Compliance, 
and the Church of England's charity less straitened in Impo- 
sition ; I doubt not, I say, but even the Church herself will 
take that yoke from the necks of her brethren, and cast it away, 
as too unchristian ! too near akin to persecution ! and too 
much a prostituting the Sacred to the Profane, to consist 
either with her reputation, her Interest, or her principles ! 

We have a great cry here, in matters of Trade, of late, 
against Monopolies and Exclusive Companies. I wish these 



244 The Church [& Kirk], religious Monopolies.^; 



Defoe. 
709. 



Gentlemen, who are making an Exclusive Company of the 
Church, and a Monopoly of Religion, would remember that 
these things are what they themselves will, one day, cast off 
as a deformity in practice, and a deviation from the great 
Rule of original Charity. But of this hereafter. 

I shall end this Preface with this short remark on the 
Work in general. The title is, A Review of the State of the 
British Nation. I cannot pursue this Title, and make the 
outside and inside agree, unless I always plainly animadvert 
upon everything, on either side, which appears inconsistent 
with you all, as a British Nation: that is, as an united Nation. 

I have been a witness to the great Transaction of the 
Union. I know the warmth with which England pursued 
it. I know the difficulty with which Scotland complied with 
it. I acknowledge, it lies upon England, to convince the 
Scots that when they opposed it, they stood in their own 
light, and opposed their own Wealth, Freedom, Safety and 
Prosperity : and this can only be done by endeavouring to 
assist them in Trade, encouraging them in Improvements, 
supporting them in their just Liberties, and taking off their 
ancient chains of bondage. 

And if this be omitted, you must expect to be told of it, 
by this Author, as long as he has a tongue to speak or a 
hand to write, whether it shall please you, or provoke you. 

D. F. 



T/ie Preface to the Sixth Volufne of the 
Review. 



[1710.] 

Am now come to the conclusion of the Sixth 
Volume of this Work : though like a teeming 
woman, I have thought every Volume should 
be the last. Where it will end now, and when ; 
God only knows ! and time only will discover. 
As for me, I know nothing of it ! 

This particular Paper, though written at 
the end of the Work, carries the title of the 
Preface, more because it is placed by the bookseller at the 
frontispiece, than that it is anything of an Introduction to the 




^■^fyio] Papist, Jacobite, & High-Church madmen. 245 

Volume: for it is really written at the close of the whole, 
and its subject is very particular. 

We have had a most distracting turbulent time for the 
lasttwo months of this year, occasioned by the Prosecution and 
Defence of a High Flying Clergyman [Doctor Sacheverell] 
who has undertaken, in the teeth of the very Parliament, as 
well as of the Nation, to justify and defend the exploded 
ridiculous doctrine of Non-Resistance. 

This Defence has been carried on with all possible heat, 
fury, and violence among the Party, and a strong conjunc- 
tion of Papist, Jacobite, and High-Church madmen has 
appeared in it, which has made them seem very formidable 
to the World. Rabbles, tumults, plundering houses, destroy- 
ing Meeting-houses; insulting Gentlemen in the streets, and 
honest men in their dwellings, have been the necessary 
appendices of this Affair. 

And, after all, I must own, though the man has been 
condemned, his Principles censured, and his Sermon burnt ; 
yet it has not been without most fatal consequences over the 
whole nation: as it has revived the heats, feuds, and ani- 
mosities which were among us, and which, by the blessed 
example and exhortation of Her Majesty, began to be laid 
asleep in the nation. 

I have been endeavouring to shew you the mischief of 
these tumults, the bloody designs of the persons that have 
raised them, and how they have differed from all that went 
before them. I have given you instances of their most 
villanous designs, such as rifling the Bank, demolishing the 
Meeting-houses, and murdering the [Dissenting] Ministers : 
all which they openly professed to be their design. GOD 
deliver this Nation from the pernicious effect of the present 
fermentation, which we are now generally in on all sides ! 

I have, however, faithfully discharged, what I thought 
myself obliged to, as a debt to Peace and in duty to the 
present Constitution, to speak plainly in these cases, whatever 
risk I ran, and at whatever hazard these Truths are to be told. 
I have not been afraid " to bear my testimony " as some 
call it, to the Liberties of Britain, against the reviving 
mischiefs of tyranny : and have, in the midst of all your 
mobs and rabbles, openly declared Non-Resistance to be 
damned by Parliament; and English (now British) Liberty 



246 The Building, the Re-edifier, the Topstone. [°jJ°*; 

to be built upon the Foundation of the Claim of Right, and 
of the Revolution ; of which the Protestant Succession, 
which sets by, the more immediate heirs, is the great exemplica- 
tion. The great King William was the Re-edifier of the 
Building, the collective Body of the People were the great 
and happy Original, and the Union is the Topstone. 

I am none of those that boast of their adventures, and love 
to tell long stories of the dangers they run. I am not always 
to be frighted with threatening letters and shams of assassi- 
nations. I ever thought those people that talk so much of 
killing folks, never do it ! Though I am none of those you 
call Fighting Fellows : yet I am none of those that are 
afraid to see themselves die ! and I may, I hope, without being 
taxed with vanity, profess not to practise Non-Resistance. 

I have by me, about fifteen letters, from Gentlemen of 
more anger than honour, who have faithfully promised me 
to come and kill me by such and such a day : nay, and some 
have descended to tell me the very manner. Yet not one of 
them has been so good as his word. 

Once I had the misfortune to come into a room, where 
five Gentlemen had been killing me a quarter of an hour in 
their way ! and yet, to the reproach of their villanous design, 
as well as of their courage, durst not, all together, own it to 
a poor naked [unarmed] single man that gave them oppor- 
tunity enough, and whom they had too much in their power. 
In short, I here give my testimony from my own experience, 
and I note it for the instruction of the five assassins above, 
that their Cause is villanous ! and that makes the Party 
cowardly. A man, that has any honour in him, is really put 
to more difficulty how to speak, than how to act ! In the case 
of murders and assassinations, he is straitened between the 
extremes of shewing too much courage, or too much fear. 

Should I tell the World the repeated cautions given me by 
friends, not to appear ! not to walk the streets ! not to shew 
myself! letters sent me, to bid me remember Sir Edmund- 
bury Godfrey, John Tutchin, and the like; I must talk 
myself up for a mad man that dares go abroad ! Should I 
let you know, how I have been three times beset, and way- 
laid for the mischief designed, but that still I live ; you would 
wonder what I mean ! 

For my part, I firmly believe, the villains that insulted 



^•°,'{°^:] H iGH-F LYING, Tyranny, Blood. 247 

honest Sutherland's house, robbed and frighted his wife, 
and with naked swords bullied the poor woman, threatening 
that they would murder her husband whenever they met 
him ! knew well enough he was not at home, and never will 
meet him when he is. 

Wherefore, my brief resolution is this. I, while I live, 
they may be assured, I shall never desist doing my duty, in 
exposing the doctrines that oppose GOD and the Revolution ; 
such as Passive Submission to tyrants, and Non-Resistance 
in cases of oppression ; if the gentlemen, being at a loss for 
arguments, are resolved to better their cause by violence and 
blood, I leave the issue to GOD's Providence ! and must do 
as well with them as I can. 

As to defence, I have had some thoughts to stay at home 
in the night, and by day to wear a piece of armour on my 
back. The first, because I am persuaded, these murderers 
will not do their work by daylight; and the second, because 
I firmly believe, they will never attempt it so fairly, to my 
face, as to give occasion of armour anywhere else. 

I confess, there may be some reasons for me to apprehend 
this Wicked Party, and therefore, as, I thank GOD ! I am 
without a disturbing fear, so I am not perfectly secure, or 
without caution. The reasons are such as these : 

That truly assassination and murder is something more 
suitable to the High-Flying Cause, and has been more in use 
among their Party, than in other cases, and with other 
people. It is the Cause of Tyranny, and Tyranny always 
leads to Blood ! Oppression goes hand-in-hand with 
Violence ; and he that would invade my Liberty, will invade 
my Life, as he has opportunity ! And had their rabble got 
a little more head, we might have come again into the 
laudable practice of cutting of throats, and cold blood 
murders — and by the same rule, their downfall being so 
apparent, this desperate cure may be thought needful to their 
desperate cause. 

But I cannot see, why they should be so exasperated at 
the poor Review, " a sorry despised Author," to use the words 
of one of their Party, whom nobody gives heed to. 

Well, Gentlemen, then let your anger be pointed at some 
more significant animal, that is more capable to wound you ! 
And do not own this author to be so considerable as to 



248 Defoe's share of the High-Church Mob. [ 



Defoe. 
1 7 10. 



engage your resentment, lest you prove the unanswerable 
force of what he says, by the concern you are at to suppress 
him. What will the World say to this way of dealing ? 
You should first answer the argument ! that is the best way 
of murdering the author ! To kill him first, is to own you 
could not answer him. If your doctrine of Non-Resistance 
will subsist, if it will uphold itself ! You have advantage 
enough ; writing against it will be of no force ! even the 
House of Commons must fall before it ! for Truth will 
prevail. But if not, if this Author, and all that open their 
mouths against it, were to be sacrificed by your impious 
hands. Truth would never want champions to defend it 
against this absurd error. And killing the Review would be 
like cutting off the monster's head, when a hundred rise up 
in the room of it. 

Upon these accounts, I go on perfectly easy, as to the 
present threats I daily meet with from this cowardly and 
abominable Party. If I am attacked by multitude, I must 
fall ; as Abner fell, before wicked men. If I am fairly and 
honourably attacked, I hope I shall fairly resist ; for I shall 
never practise the notion I condemn, and every honest man 
ought to go prepared for a villain. 

This, though it is irksome to me to say, and no man that 
fights loves to talk of it ; yet I thought it proper for me to 
let you all see, that I have my share of this High-Church 
Mob. And that whatever may happen to me, the World may 
know whence it comes. 

I might, and ought indeed to speak a word or two to three 
Gentlemen, besides those mentioned before, who have been 
pleased personally to threaten my life — with abundance of 
preambles and justification of themselves about it. What I 
shall say to them is, I shall demonstrate my being perfectly 
unconcerned at the matter, by refusing the advice given me, 
even by their own friends, of binding them to the peace. It 
seems a little unnatural to me, and what I shall never 
practise, to go to law with a man for beating me, much less 
for threatening me : and least of all, when the persons are such 
harmless creatures as these ! Wherefore, all the Answer I 
shall give them is this, with the utmost contempt of their 
folly. The cur that barks is not the cur that bites ! 

These things regard particular men, and I know, the 



D. Defoe. 
1710. 



] I WILL (i O ON IN MY DUTY.' 



249 



persons will understand me when they read it. I assure 
you, it is in courtesy to them, that I bury their folly, by con- 
cealing their names. 

Upon the whole, as I am going on in what I esteem my 
duty, and for the Public Good, I firmly believe, it will not 
please GOD to deliver me up to this bloody and ungodly 
Party; and therefore I go on freely in what is before me, and 
shall still go on to detect and expose a vicious Clergy, and a 
bigoted race of the people, in order to reclaim and reform 
them, or to open the eyes of the good People of Britain, that 
they may not be imposed upon by them : and whether in this 
work I meet with Punishment or Praise, Safety or Hazard, 
Life or Death, Te Demn Laudanius. 

Your humble servant, D. F. 



Preface to the Seventh Voliune of 

the Review. 

[1711.] 

Ontrary to many people's hopes, and 
some expectations; this Work has happily 
arrived at the end of the Seventh Volume. 
When Posterity shall revise the several 
sheets, and see what Turn of Times have 
happened! what Parties! what fury! what 
passions have reigned ! how the Author of 
this Paper has treated them all ! and they, 
him ! it may add something to their wonder, how either this 
Writing has been supported, or the Author left alive to shew 
his face in the world. 

I have sometimes thought it hard, that while I endeavour 
so manifestly to steer the Middle Channel between all 
Parties ; and press either side to pursue, at least preferably 
to their private prospects, the Public Interest: I should be 
maltreated by any! much more, that I should be so, by 
both Sides ! 

But so shall it fare with any man that will not run into 




250 Defoe's grandfather kept a pack of hounds. 



[Detoe. 
1711. 



the same excess of riot with any People. For my part, I 
have always thought the only true Fundamental Maxim of 
Politics that will ever make this nation happy is this, That 
the Government ought to be of no Party at all. Would this 
Ministry [Lord Oxfords], or any Ministry that shall 
succeed them, pursue this principle ; they would make them- 
selves immortal ! and without it, they will be mere annuals, 
that die with the return of the season, and must be planted 
anew. Had the Ministries of the last twenty, nay, I may 
say of the last fifty years [1661-1711], practised this; we 
had had no Revolution ! no invasions of Liberty ! no abdi- 
cations ! no turnings in and turnings out, at least not, in 
general, once in an Age. 

Statesmen are the nation's Guardians. Their business is 
not to make Sides, divide the nation into Parties, and draw 
the factions into battle array against one another. Their 
work ought to be to scatter and disperse Parties, as they 
would Tumults ; and to keep a balance among the inter- 
fering Interests of the nation, with the same care as they 
would the civil Peace. 

But Interest and ambition are to a Court, what fevers are 
to the body. They give a nation no rest, while Putting Out 
or Putting In is the word. Faction, like the wind and the 
tide, when they run counter, will ever be heaving and setting, 
now this way, now that way : and that people or that 
Government which are subjected to the power of that 
Motion, shall be sure to have just as much rest as the sea, 
and no more! 

This makes Government change hands, Favourites rise 
and fall. Favour shift sides, and Parties take their turns in 
the State as the sailors at the helm, spell and spell. This 
makes the Ministry and Council, ay, and Parliaments too ! 
to be to-day of one side, and to-morrow of another! and 
the poor distracted people turn their tales and their coats, 
and their faces, and their religion so often, that no man 
knows his neighbour any longer than this or that Party 
which is uppermost, discovers him. 

Nay, such is the influence, or contagion rather, of this 
mischief, that «// things partake of the Division of the State. 
It reaches even to our eating and drinking. This is called 
"loyal," that "fanatic" liquor; this "Protestant," that 



^' ^fjTz^ The Political Change in October i 7 id, 251 

"Popish" cheer; this "High Church" ale, that "Low 
Church " ale. And you shall not meet with a pack of 
hounds now, after a hare, but you may hear the huntsmen 
cry, "Hark, Tory!" to him, "High Church" to another, 
"Pox of that Whig! He is a mere cur! He always cries 
it false ! He '11 ne'er be a staunch hound ! " 

I remember my grandfather had a huntsman that used 
the same familiarity with his dogs : and he had his " Round 
Head "and his " Cavalier," his " Goring" and his "Waller." 
All the Generals of both armies were hounds in his pack. 
Till the times turning, the old gentleman was fain to scatter 
the pack ; and make them up of more dog-like surnames. 

And where shall we say this will end? Or when shall we 
have a Ministry with eyes in their heads? I thought long 
ago, the Variety of Parties that we have seen in this nation 
had exhausted the Fund of Faction : but hell is deep, and 
the supply as bottomless as the Pit they flow from. And 
as long as faction feeds the flame, we shall never want 
Billingsgate to revile one another with. 

In such an Age as this, has the Author of this Paper 
wrote, for now seven years together. He has cried " Peace! " 
" Peace ! " ; but it will not be, till that great Voice that said 
to the ocean Peace, be still! shall speak to the Parties here, 
with the same commanding voice. That Voice, to whom to 
command is to cause himself to be obeyed ; and to say and 
to do are the same thing. 

It is in vain to oppose the Stream of Parties ! when they 
turn like the first shot of the ebb, they run sharp, and they 
bear down all before them. An instance of this, we have 
had in the late elections [Autumn of 1716] ; the tumults and 
riots of which were indeed insufferable. And how strange 
is it to look back upon them ? What was the language of 
the day? "A new Ministry!" "A new Parliament!" 
" Down with the Whigs ! " 

Well, all this was done : but what then ? " Down with the 

Dissenters!" "D n the Presbyterians!" "Confound 

the Low Church ! " " Make peace with France ! " and so on, 
even to bringing in the Pretender. And for a man to tell 
them of Moderate Measures, of Peace, of Temper, and of 
Toleration, had been to raise the mob about one's ears. 

Often, this Paper took the freedom to tell them, they 



252 The meeting of Parliament. [°- 



Defoe. 
1711. 



would be soberer in time ! that when they came to Parlia- 
ment and Cabinets, and to handle the Management, they 
would talk another language! that Money was a Low 
Churchman ; Credit, born of Whig parents, and learned to 
dance at a Whig dancing school ; that Government was the 
Firstborn of Moderation, and took such a fright at the late 
Civil Wars [1640-1660], that she always fell into fits upon 
the least fermentation of her blood. I told them, they 
would all turn Whigs, when they came to act. 

Well, they laughed at me ! scolded at me ! cursed me ! 
and both Sides used me according to their custom of treating 
those that dare speak Truth to them. 

Yet it was not a month after this, but the Parliament 
came together [25 Nov. 17 10], and what then? 

Why, then it was, "We will maintain the peace and quiet 
of the nation, by discouraging tumults and rabbles ! We 
will support the Queen against all her enemies. We will 
carry on the war against P>ance ! We will pay the public 
debts! We will uphold the Credit! and for our fellow 
Christians, and fellow subjects, the Dissenters ; we will, &c." 

" D n them all ! " said a High Flyer, that looked for 

other things, when he read the Commons' Address, "is it all 
come to this? Why then, we are, but where we were 
before ! " 

"Why, where would you be?" said I again. "Did I not 
tell you this, before?" 

And now, gentlemen, what is the consequence. Why the 
Hot Men, that being akin to old jEHU were for driving the 
Government off the wheels, found themselves out of breath ; 
and that Government which keeps its due bounds, had 
made a full stop at her due place, Moderation, and would 
go no further- immediately, they turn malecontent, drink 
"October" for a month [referring to the October Club], 
tainted with mob fury — And they set up for themselves! 

Now, say I, is a time for the Ministry, if their eyes are 
open, to fix themselves for ever! if they can but find out 
the just Proposition, and set upon the exact Medium be- 
tween all these extremes. 

Indeed the Ministry may more properly say, just now, 
that they are of no Party than ever they could, or any 
Ministry before them could do. For no Party likes them : 



D.Defoe.j 200,000 Half-Sheets issued every week. 253 

yet no Party finds fault with them, October excepted ; and 
their complaints will increase the honour of the Ministry, 
because the substance of them is ridiculous. 

If they will exist, let them stand fast betzveen the Parties. 
If they waver, and think by embracing one Party to crush 
the other, they are gone ! I would not give two years' 
purchase for their Commissions \ Ministry should be of the 
Nation's Party! The Ministry, the Government, is a Party 
by itself; and ought in matters of Parties, to be inde- 
pendent. Wiien they cease to be so, they set the shoe on 
the head ! they set the nation with the bottom upward ! and 
must expect to be mob-ridden till they cease to be a Party 
at all, but become slaves to the Party they espouse, and fall 
under the Party they oppose. And this is what has 
ruined all the Ministries that have been these last twenty 
years [1691-1711]. "He that hath ears to hear, let him 
hear!" 

This Review has subsisted in the Administration of four 
Ministries, and has, all along, endeavoured to speak plain. 
Whether it does so now or not, I leave any to judge ! 

I am now to suppose it drawing towards a period, and 
the Party that have so long regretted that old branch of 
English liberty. Freedom of Speech, please themselves, with 
stopping the mouths of the Whigs, by laying a tax upon 
Public Papers [the Stamp Act]. 

If such a design goes on, it will soon appear, whether it 
be a proposal to raise money, or a design to crush and 
suppress the Papers themselves. If it be the first, it may 
readily answer the end. There being as I have calculated 
it, above 200,000 single Papers published every week in the 
nation, a light tax would raise a considerable sum, and yet 
not check the thing. But if it be a design to suppress these 
Papers, it will be seen by their laying on such a rate as will 
disable the printing of them. 

For my part, I am perfectly easy. Whatever ends I may 
be supposed to write for, none will suggest I do it for my 
private gain ; and I shall as readily therefore be silent as 
any man that writes. Though I prophesy this to the Party, 
that it will not answer their end ! For the stopping of the 
Press will be the opening of the Mouth ; and the diminution 
of Printing will be the increase of Writing, in which the 



2 54 



Licensing of the Press. 



r 



Defoe. 
1711. 



liberty is tenfold, because no authors can be found out, or 
punished if they are. 

And this made King Charles II. (and he understood 
these things very well) say that the Licenser of the Press 
did more harm than good ; and that if every one was left to 
print what he would, there would be less treason spread 
about, and fewer Pasquinades. 

And I take upon me to say, that let them stop the Press 
when they will ! what is wanting in pamphlet, will be made 
up in lampoon I 

As to this Work, let it fall when it will ! this shall be said 
of it by friend and foe. It has spoken boldly and plainly 
to them both ; and so it shall continue to do, while it speaks 
at all ! And whether it shall go on, or be put down is of so 
equal a weight to me, as to my Particular \_private mterests\ 
that no man is less concerned to inquire about it, than 
myself. 



Preface to the Right h Volu7ne of 

the Review 

[1712.] 

Have now finished the 8th Volume of this 
Work, and as this particular part has been 
the Subject of as much Clamour and Noise 
as any of the former, though on a different 
Account, and from different People ; I 
cannot close it, without giving some account, 
both of it and myself. 
From the beginning of this Undertaking, 
which I have now carried on almost Ten Years, I have 
always, according to the best of my Judgment, calculated it 
for the Support and Defence of TRUTH and LIBERTY ; 
I was not so weak when I began, as not to expect Enemies, 
and that by speaking plain, both to Persons and Things, I 
should exasperate many, against both the Work and the 
Author, and in that Expectation I have not been deceived. 




^■^.ti^] Reproaches from Friends. 255 

I confess I did not expect, that if the same Truth 
summoned me to reprove, or differ from the Conduct of 
the People I was serving, they would treat me as they do 
for it : I own, I thought, an uninterrupted Fidelity, and 
steady adhering to an honest Principle for near 40 Years, 
would have been some Plea in my behalf; and if not that, 
suffering the Shipwreck of my Fortunes, which were at 
that time recovering, and by the Bounty of his late Majesty, 
in a fair way of being restored, suffering all the Indigni- 
ties, Penalties and Punishments an Enraged Party could 
inflict upon me, and above three thousand Pounds loss ; 
I say, I thought this might have lodged a little in the 
Breasts of my Friends, and might have allowed them at 
least to examine, before they condemned me, whether they did 
me wrong or no. 

I thought, that while I had given such Proof, that I 
could neither be Bribed from the Truth, or Threatened, or 
Terrified from my Principles, it might, at least, be a Ground 
for Impartial Honest Men to Examine, before they censured 
me, whether it was true or no, that I had been now Guilty 
of both. 

But I have found all this in vain ; and as if forfeiting 
my Reason as well as my Estate, were a Debt from me to 
the Party I espoused, I am now hunted with a full cry, 
Acteon like, by my own Friends, I won't call them Hounds, 
in spite of protested Innocence; in spite of want of Evi- 
dence ; against the genuine Sense of what I write ; against 
fair Arguing; against all Modesty and Sense; Condemned 
by common Clamour, as Writing for Money, Writing for 
particular Persons, Writing by great Men's Direction, being 
dictated to, and the like ; every title of which, I have the 
Testimony of my own Conscience, is abominably false, and 
the Accusers must have the Accusation of their own Con- 
sciences, that they do not know it to be true. 

I cannot say it has not given me a great deal of disturb- 
ance ; for an Ungrateful Treatment of a People that I had 
run all manner of Risk for, and thought I could have died 
for, cannot but touch a less sensible Temper, than I think, 
mine to be ; but I thank God that Operation is over, and I 
endeavour to make other Uses of it, than perhaps the 
People themselves think I do. 



256 Defoe's clear Conscience. l^'^'lV^' 

First, / look in, and upon the narrowest search I can 
make of my own Thoughts, Desires, and Designs, I find a 
clear untainted Principle, and consequently an entire calm 
of Conscience, founded upon the satisfying Sense that I 
neither am touched with Bribes, guided or influenced by 
Fear, Favour, Hope, Dependence or Reward, of, upon, or 
from any Person, or Party under Heaven ; and that I have 
written and do write nothing, but what is my Native, 
Free, Undirected Opinion and Judgment, and what was so 
many Years ago, as I think I made unanswerably appear 
by the very last Revieiv of this Volume, where I quoted the 
very same Thing which I write now, and which was Printed 
in the ^th Volume of this Work, No. 155, in the Year 
1709. 

Next, / look up, and not Examining into His Ways, the 
Sovereignty of whose Providence I adore : I submit with 
an entire Resignation to whatever happens to me, as being 
by the immediate Direction of that Goodness, and for such 
wise and glorious Ends, as however I may not yet 
see through, will, at last issue in good, even to me; fully 
depending, that I shall yet be delivered from the Power 
of Slander and Reproach, and the Sincerity of my Conduct 
be yet cleared up to the World ; and if not, Te Deum 
Landanius. 

In the third place, / look back, on the People who treat 
me thus, who notwithstanding, under the Power of their 
Prejudices, they fly upon me, with a Fury that I think 
unchristian and unjust, yet as I doubt not, the Day will 
still come, when they will be again undeceived in me ; I 
am far from studying their Injury, or doing myself Justice 
at their Expence, which I could do with great Advantage : 
It is impossible for the Dissenters in this Nation to provoke 
me to be an Enemy to their Interest ; should they fire my 
House, sacrifice my Family, and assassinate my Life, I 
would ever requite them with defending their Cause, and 
standing to the last against all those that should endeavour 
to weaken or reproach it. But this is, as I think it, a just 
and righteous Cause, founded upon the great Principle of 
Truth and Liberty, which I am well assured I shall never 
abandon, and not that I am insensible of being ill Treated 
by them, or that I make any court to their Person. 



D. Defoe 



'^j°l-^ Misrepresentation of Aims. 257 

When any Party of Men have a clear View of their own 
Case, or a right knowledge of their own Interest, he that 
will serve them, and knows the Way to do it, must be 
certain not to please them, and must be able to see them revile 
and reproach him, and use him in the worst manner imagin- 
able, and not be moved, either to return them ill, or refrain 
doing them good ; and this is the true meaning of that 
Command, which I thank God, I cheerfully obey, viz., To 
pray for thetn that despitefully use me. 

I have not so ill an Opinion of myself, as not to think I 
merit better Usage from the Dissenters ; and I have not so 
ill an Opinion of the Dissenters, as not to think they will, 
some time or other, know their Friends from their Enemies 
better than they do now ; nor have I so far forgot my Friends, 
as not to own a great many of them do already. I re- 
member the Time when the same People treated me in the 
same manner, upon the Book called The Shortest Way, 
etc., and nothing but suffering for them would ever open 
their Eyes ; He that cleared up my integrity then, can 
do it again by the same Method, and I leave it to Him ; 
Ad te quacumque vocas is my Rule ; my Study and Practice 
is Patience and Resignation, and in this I triumph over all 
the Indignity, Reproach, Slander and Railery in the 
World ; in this I enjoy in the midst of a Million of 
Enemies a perfect Peace and Tranquility, and when 
they misconstruct my Words, pervert the best Meaning, 
turn every Thing which I say, their own Way ; it gives me 
no other contemplation than this, " How vain is the Opinion 
of Men, either when they judge well or ill ! " 

This makes me go on steadily, and regard no Clamour: 
When I write against a War with the Dutch, they rail and 
exclaim at me, and say, I write for a War with the Dutch ; 
when I write against erecting an Austrian Tyrant in 
room of a French, they tell me I write for the French ; 
when I write for putting an End to the War, they tell me 
I write for a French Peace, and the like. 

I have made such Protestations of my receiving no 
Reward or Direction whatever, in or for this Work, as 
none but those who are used to prevaricate themselves, 
can, upon any Foundation that is consistent with 
Christianity, suspect, and the Circumstances I labour under 

R 3 



95« 



Co(JUAf;K OF ONIC'S OI'INIONS. 



I), h'l'. 



ill ihn World, arc ;i rorrohoratinf^ l-lvirlcnce of the Truth 
(>i if; ycl williout (irouii'l, vyithodt Iwidcricc, without any 
'iVf.l.itiioiiy. I>nl |;riirr;il Notioti, tliry will li.'tvf: it Ijc othcr- 
wi':r , tw(» of llirir Author;; luivt: th': Iinpu'lrrice U) assert 
il, /'/// //"/ I'/ti- '.left hitvi- thry Udni to prove il, nor f;;ui they 
do II, Ihoiijdi |jr>fh o|)rMly (:halicnj;(:(l to <ifi it, aiifi a 
lluiidrrd (/iiinra?; offcri.*! u|)on the l'rf>of of it; tliu , they 
y\\jr Ihr I ,ir and the Ka'w.al to themselves williout my h(:li>, 
who (jdirlly let thrfti i^o on thrir own Way. 

My Mra'iUieii are t(t the hesi of my Jud^onent steady: 
What I .i|.|Movr I defend, what I dislii;*: I (ensure, without 
anv ICr'.iii-i I of I'lTMOliH, only rndca vonrin}', to Jjive my 
Kra'ioii". and to nialu- it appt-.u, that I approve and dislike 
upon j;oo(l and ,';ulfi( ient (iiotmds; whi< h hciiiy; jirst ivell 
assntfii of, thr I iiiK- is yet to come, that 1 ever refrained to 
Mpcuk iny Miiwl foi fear of the l-'a* c of Man: If what I 
httVP Nttid wen* lal.c, my I'licmirs woidd certairdy choose 
to auMvver lathn than to i.iil : IWil as I have Unanswerable 
rrulh on my .'ildc, iIk y (lioo.c to rail rather than to 
annwei . 

I have livr<l too loiij-, and .crn too mu( h, not to know 
llhit .dl Ihrse violent I'.uty I'ruds an- of short Duration, 
and \vr '.k-v thr vciy Men 1 now speak of, approve to- 
d,»\- wh.il ihi'v wrir loudrst afsiinst hut yesterday. In 
the l>r^;mnin|'. oi thr liitr (hani'es, we saw those (lentle- 
lurn thiealrnini; the public credit ; atul one and all, they 
le'iolved t») lend no Money to the (lovermuent ; had they 
hrld there, they luii'.ht indeed have distressed the New 
M,(n.i|/-i . m thrir brp.inuiujt i but no sooner was a Fund 
141'ied iviih il little tritlim: ./</.",;// A ;./.v, but how were they 
ready t»> tread our another to Death to \\c\. in their Money! 
This was tt Ci>Myincinjy testimony of two thini'[s, which, 
wetr they lij'.btly considered, inii'ht be improved very 
nwi. h to the advantaite i>f the lionest I'eople themselves, 
and as thetr I'tirmies ilo consiiler them, they are at present 
a mean'. ti> irpir.i-nt their l'"ijMue in the Nation t(H) much 
t*> theii disadvuntap.e. vi/. : (I 'J That the Whitys act upon no 
l'\Mu\»lation i>r concert with, or conlidence in iMie another, 
in any thiuj'. they kV^, and that the Remains of a public 
Spirit, which their Ancestors were ^uiiled by, arc suidc so 
low. as to Iv entirely jTovcrned by their private Advan- 



^^■'*.t,'!:] OCCASIONAI, CoNlOKMriY HlLL. 25Q 

taijci ; (2) 'lliat the Moneyed Men ainon^ llietn, upon whom 
the puhh'c Credit has so much seemed to depend, arc in as 
much want of the Inmds, as tlie Funils are of the Mone)eil 
Men, of both which, I say no more here, because I shall 
have Room to speak at larj'.e of 'em heieafter: To return 
to the unsteadiness of tlie Temper now rei}jiiin{]^ amou}; us, 
I mean amon^ the honest and wcU-nieaninjj but I lot 
reopie, amon^ the VVhipjs: 1 farther have observed, that 
not long since, we saw many of them railing at a South- 
Si'a Traih, cursing and wishing C'onfusion (at a most 
unchristian Kate) to the Contrivers of it, nay, and some 
more fuiit)us, cursing themselves il ever they came into it ; 
bantering and ridiculing it, and diiidving a Health toil in 
a Cup of Whipped l''roth, as a suitable lunblem t)f its 
Invalidity. And yet a little l*atience, a little waiting, and 
lettin[f them alone a little, has so changed the Humour, that 
all tlu' C'latnour is smdc.and we find the very same Men are 
at this Day the only Men that buy up the South-Sea 
Stock. We found thrin the same about the Article of 
Dunkirk; they begin to like it already, and think it \c\y 
well that we have it in oui Hands; thus like crammeil 
I'owls, they must be made b'at a'\iinst their Stomachs, but 
they are pleaseil with the h'lesh when they feel it upon their 
lioncs. 

It is Juy disinterested stud)' to serve them, but I loiifess 
'tis not so to please them ; I shall never leave oH to wish 
well to their Interest, and can I but serve it they shall have 
leave to throw Stones at mc as long as I live ; but this does 
by no means hinder, but that I may, and ever shall, as the 
b{"st mark of my Zeal for their Interest, tell them plaiidy 
their Mistakes. 

This passion I have for their Interest, fills me with 
Resentment at the barbarity of the Treatment which the 
Dissenters have reci'ived in the Afi'air of \\\i.-. Occiisional 
l^ill, and that from a People they had desi-rved other 
Usage from, and in this, as I said before, I do them but 
Justice: That they theiusrlves are .so easy under it, as not 
only to make no Complaint, but even to say it has done them 
no harm, is an Iwidence of their micon(|uerablc Passion 
to a jiarticular View, which I believe they will always be 
disappointed in, since it is evident this has ruined the 



26o Dissenters and Political Parties. [ 



D. Defoe. 
1712. 



interest of the Whigs in almost all the Corporations in 
England, and put them into such a Posture, as never but 
by Miracle to recover it. 

I pity the Delusion of those, who entertain a Notion, 
that if ever the Low-Church-Men come to the Administra- 
tion, they will restore the Dissenters ; I grant it would be 
both Just and Generous so to do, but if they will first shew 
me one Low-Church-Man in the Nation of any Figure^ 
that however he may exclaim at the Method does not 
appear secretly satisfied that it is done, then I '11 join in 
expecting it ; but I shall farther shew them the Vanity 
of these Hopes, in the Consequence of my other Discourses 
upon this Head. 

We need not wonder at the other Mistakes we see some 
People run into, when they are so intent upon the Party 
Interest they push at, that they are contented to be the 
Sacrifice offered up for the Purchase of Human help to 
carry it on ; in all which unchristian course, we have seen 
them effectually disappointed, and I must own, till I see 
another Spirit among them, I do not look for their 
Deliverance. 

Their Eyes are now wholly bent upon the War abroad ; 
the considerations that it may be hazardous to the Pro- 
testant Succession, threatening of embroiling us with the 
Dutch, destructive of our General Safety, and many Ways 
fatal to our Peace at Home, weigh not with them ; the 
growing Interest of the Pretender at home, the Insolence 
and Encrease of Jacobitism among us, seem to be quite 
left out of their Thoughts ; I shall say no more to them 
but this, that, I think, if God should give them Deliverance 
their own Way, they would be undone ; and I pray that 
a Spirit fit for Deliverance may be given them, and then 
their Eyes will be opened to that Way that shall be best 
for us all. 

To return to my own case, I am a Stoic in whatever 
may be the Event of Things ; I '11 do and say what I think 
is a Debt to Justice and Truth to do and say, without the 
least regard to Clamour and Reproach ; and as I am utterly 
unconcerned at Human Opinion, the People that throw 
away their Breath so freely in censuring me, may consider 
of some better Improvement to make of their Passions, than 



X7I2 



] Defoe's Life of Wonders. 261 



to waste them on a Man, that is both above and below the 
reach of them. 

I know too much of the World to expect good in it ; and 
I have learnt to value it too little, to be concerned at the 
Evil ; I have gone through a Life of Wonders, and am the 
Subject of a vast Variety of Providences : I have been fed 
more by Miracle than Elijah, when the Ravens were his 
Purveyors ; I have some time ago summed up the Scenes 
of my Life in this Distich. 

No Man has tasted differing Fortunes more 
And Thirteen Times I have been Rich and Poor. 

In the School of Affliction I have learnt more Philosophy 
than at the Academy, and more Divinity than from the 
Pulpit: In Prison I have learnt to know that Liberty 
does not consist in open Doors, and the free Egress and 
Regress of Locomotion. I have seen the rough side of the 
World as well as the smooth, and have in less than half a 
Year tasted the difference between the Closet of a King, 
and the Dungeon of Newgate. 

I have suffered deeply for cleaving to Principle ; of 
which Integrity I have lived to say, None but those I 
suffered for, ever reproached me with it : The immediate 
Causes of my Suffering have been by being betrayed by 
those I have trusted, and scorning to betray those that 
trusted me. To the Honour of English Gratitude I have 
this remarkable Truth to leave behind me, That I was never 
so basely betrayed, as by those whose Families I had 
preserved from starving ; nor so basely treated as by those 
I starved my own Family to preserve. The same Chequer- 
Work of Fortunes attends me still ; the People I have 
served, and love to serve, cut my throat every day, because 
I will not cut the throat of those that have served and 
assisted me. Ingratitude has always been my Aversion, 
and perhaps for that Reason it is my Exercise. 

And now I live under universal Contempt, which Con- 
tempt I have learnt to contemn, and have an uninterrupted 
Joy in my Soul, not at my being contemned, but that no 
Crime can be laid to my Charge, to make that Contempt 
my Due. 

Fame, a lying Jade, would talk me up for I know not 



262 Resignation to the will of Heaven. [^-^1^°^. 

what of Courage ; and they call me a fighting Fellow ; I 
despise the Flattery, I profess to know nothing of it, farther 
than Truth makes any Man bold ; and I acknowledge, that 
give me but a bad Cause and I am th e greatest Coward in 
the World ; Truth inspires Nature, and as in defence of 
Truth no honest Man can be a Coward, so no Man of 
Sence can be bold when he is in the wrong : He that is 
Honest must be Brave, and it is my opinion that a coward 
cannot be an Honest Man. In defence of Truth, I THINK 
(pardon me that I dare go no further, for who knows 
himself?) I say, I think I could dare to Die, but a Child 
may beat me if I am in the wrong. Guilt gives trembling 
to the Hands, blushes to the Face, and fills the Heart with 
Amazement and Terror : I question whether there is much, 
if any, difference from Bravery and Cowardice, but what 
is founded in the Principle they are engaged for ; and I no 
more believe any Man is born a Coward, than that he is 
born a Knave — Truth makes a Man of Courage, and Guilt 
makes that Man of Courage a Coward. 

Early Disasters and frequent turns of my Affairs, as 
above, have left me incumbered with an insupportable weight 
of Debt ; and the remarkable Compassion of some Creditors, 
after continued Offers of stripping myself naked, by entire 
surrenders upon Oath, have never given me more Trouble 
than they were able, or less than they knew how ; by which 
means most of the Debts I have discharged have cost me 
40^. in the Pound to pay, and the Creditor half as much to 
recover. 

I have a large Family, a Wife and six Children, who 
never want what they should enjoy, or spend what they 
ought to save. 

Under all these Circumstances, and many more too long 
to write, my only Happiness is this ; I have always been 
kept cheerful, easy, and quiet ; enjoying a perfect calm of 
Mind, clearness of Thought, and Satisfaction not to be 
broken in upon, by whatever may happen to me : If any 
Man ask me how I arrived to it, I answer him in short, 'By 
a constant serious Application to the great, solemn and 
weighty Work of Resignation to the Will of Heaven ; ' by 
which, let no Man think I presume ; I have endeavoured, 
and am in a great measure able to say feelingly and 



^■^^l°l:] In Calms and Peace. 263 

effectually the following Lines, which I recommend to the 
World, not only as the Fruit of my own experience, but for 
the Practice of all such as know how to value it, and think 
they need it. 



HAPPY, because confirmed above, 
And to Heaven's dispose resigned ; 
I by his Rule, direct my Steps, 
And on him stay my Mind. 

Upon his various Providence 
With Satisfaction rest, 
I unexalted can enjoy. 
And suffer Undepressed. 

Boldly I steer through storms of Life 
And Ship-wreck of Estate, 
Without Inheritance I 'm rich. 
And without Honours Great. 

When the world trembles, I 'm unmoved, 
When cloudy, I 'm serene : 
When Darkness covers all without, 
I 'm always bright within. 

In Labour I enjoy my Rest, 

In weighty Sorrows, Ease ! 

When Pride and Parties rage with Strife, 

I 'm all in Calms and Peace. 

In Scarcity, I fear no want; 
In Plenty, guard my Mind ; 
In Prison, I 'm at Liberty, 
In Liberty confined. 

With steady Foot, and even Pace, 
I tread the Milky Way ; 
I 've Youth without it's Levity, 
And Age without decay. 



264 The Cause, not the Men. 

I scorn the Terrors of the World, 
And equally her Charms ; 
If those affright, or these allure, 
I shake her from my Arms. 

Often I 've been by Power oppressed, 
And with deep Sorrow tried ; 
By the same Power I 've been caressed. 
And I have both defied. 

By my Eternal Guide kept safe, 
Through both Extremes I steer, 
These could not bribe my Principles, 
Or those excite my fear. 

The Patriots of the cause I serve, 
Those Services contemn ; 
Yet move me not, because I serve 
The Cause, and not the Men. 

Under their Universal Scorn 

I 'm cool, and unsurprised ; 

Most Humble when I 'm most caressed, 

And Cheerful when despised. 

The secret Hand to which I look, 
Has always kept me true ; 
Patience for every Trial I 've had. 
And Trial for Patience too. 



Though Envy grins, and Slander barks. 
And Clamouring Monsters rail ; 
They neither can my Passions move, 
Or on my Smiles prevail. 

My Temper forms the Good, or 111, 
Of every different State ; 
I taste the Gall without the Grief, 
Without the Snare, the Sweet. 



'D. Defoe 



^'^fjT,.] The Honest Part. 265 

To keep my Passions regular 
I 've full Command within ; 
I 'm pleased without Impertinence 
And Angry without Sin. 

Thoughtful without Anxiety 
And grieved without Despair, 
Cheerful but without Levity, 
And cautious without fear. 

I 'd Gravity before Grey Hairs, 
And now I 'm old I 'm gay ; 
Patient in Life, and hope I shall 
Without Reluctance DIE. 

When fierce Afflictions charge me home, 

I see the Secret Hand ; 

I cease to pore on Instruments 

But always view their End. 

If Prosperous Things are made my Lot 
And the World speaks me fair, 
I 'm always jealous of the Joy, 
And guard against the Snare. 

Ambition, Malice, Rage and Hate, 
Are Strangers to my Soul ; 
But Peace and Joy possess the Parts, 
And Charity the Whole. 

I cannot Envy when I 'm low, 
Nor when I 'm high can fear ; 
In Wealth I can no more be proud 
Than when I 'm Poor despair. 

The HONEST PART I fain would act 
As Heaven shall Means restore ; 
Till then I nurse the Principle, 
And Heaven expects no more. 



D. Defoe. 
1712. 



266 The Happiness of Resignation. [ 

If Rich, my Temper suits my State 
If Mean, my Frame supplies : 
And I 'm more thankful when I fall 
Than others when they rise. 

I freely shun Opinion-Fame, 
Which Gusts of Parties raise ; 
I seek the Merit, not the Name, 
The Vertue, not the Praise. 

From my Low Station I look up 
Pity great Men of Crime ; 
I neither over-rate their Rage 
Or Value their Esteem. 

My full dependence is above, 
I own and eye HIS Power ; 
I know I must account to Him, 
And wait with Joy the Hour. 

In vain we talk of Happiness, 

In any State below ; 

There is no calm on Earth, but what 

Must from this Fountain flow. 

Resigned to Heaven, we may with Joy, 

To any State submit ; 

And in the world of Miseries, 

Have Happiness complete. 

D. F. 



Daniel Defoe. 



Papers from the Review. 




268 



The Prototype and Plan of the Review. 

rSupplementary Journal to the Advice from the\ 
\_Scandal Club for the month of September, 1704. J 

T HAS been objected to the Author, that this 
design is not new, and is only a Mimic of 
Harry Care, in his Weekly Packet of Advice 
from Rome, with the [Popish] Courant at the 
end of every Paper. 

Such gentlemen do not tell us, whether that 
Work was valuable or not. They neither give 
their judgement on the design, nor on the 
performance. 

If that was a useful Work, well designed, and more happily 
performed than this Author will pretend to : then these 
gentlemen say nothing to our Author's disparagement, since 
all the Wit of Mankind seems now to be composed but of 
Imitations, and there " is nothing new under the sun." 

If they think that work mean, and the performance dull 
(which the present scarcity and value of those Collections 
[i.e., sets of the Weekly Packet] plainly contradict) ; it re- 
mains for those gentlemen to tell us where the meannesses 
are ? and where the dulness of that Author appears ? 

It is true, he had his imperfections : and the fury of the 
Times, the poverty of circumstances, and the unhappy love 
of his bottle, reduced him too low, for a man of his capacity. 
But as in all parts of his design, and the length of his happy 
performance ; he discovered such a spirit, such learning, 
such strength of reason, and such a sublime fancy; as in 
which the Author of this cannot esteem himself worthy to 
carry his books after him : so he shall always value this 
Undertaking so much the more as it resembles his ; and 
wishes, for the sake of the reader as well as himself, he could 
come near him in the performance. 

Some, we know, have no relish for History, and value 
therefore only the Entertaining Part of the Review : and by 
such, we have been often solicited to leave off troubling our- 
selves with the grave puzzling part of the Paper, telling a 
long story of the Swedes, Hungarians, and the Lord knows 
what 1 and bring our Paper to all mirth, pleasantry, and 



s^pt^fjo^:] Why the Scandalous Club was founded. 269 

delight. And they promise to furnish us with matter enough. 

Others, and as many in number as the former, frequently 
press us "to leave off jesting and bantering," as they call 
it ; and to pursue the vast work which the title leads to, and 
which the first sheets promised, viz., A Review of the Affairs 
of France. A subject, say they, truly fruitful, of a vast 
variety, and suited to an undertaking of the greatest 
magnitude : and it is a pity it should be clogged with the 
impertinence and nonsense of the Scandalous Club. 

And thus we are brought before our own Society both ways. 

Now, gentlemen, as this design was not at first undertaken 
without a full prospect of all this variety of judgements and 
censures : so in all this, there seems nothing material enough 
to turn the Author from pursuing his first design — which is, 
the middle between those two extremities. 

It is true, the History of the Affairs of France^ in all the 
vast and unobserved parts of its growth and increase, is the 
main and original thought : and, if the Author lives to carry 
it on, it shall be brought, in its due time, to the full period, 
where Providence shall place it, at the very end of this Work. 

But as all men are not Historians, and even many of those 
that are care but for a little reading at a time ; this design 
was laid to bring such people to read the Story ; which, if it 
had been always serious, and had proceeded too fast, had 
been too voluminous, too tedious, either for their leisure or 
inclination. And thus we wheedle them in (if it may be 
allowed that expression) to the Knowledge of the World ; who, 
rather than take more pains, would be content with their 
ignorance, and search into nothing. 

To carry on this honest cheat, and bring people to read 
with delight ; the latter part of this Paper was contrived : 
every jot as useful in its kind ; and, if we may be allowed to 
judge, by common acceptation, as pleasing. 

It cannot but be pleasing to the Author, to find both parts 
of his design so well approved. And therefore to those, who 
are not equally pleased with both ; he says, " He desires those 
who like but one Part, to bear with the other ; for the sake 
of those whose judgements approve of what they do not 1 " 
Those that like both Parts, need nothing farther to be said 
to them, than that " He is glad, he is able to please them ! " 
And those who like neither Part, are welcome to let it alone. 





1 



270 



D E FOE'S intention to stop the Review 

with No, 100; and how it came to 

he continued, 

\Review, No. 98, Vol. I./. 408. Saturday, 10 February, 1705.] 

He Author of the Review having received a letter, 
signed F. L. containing Proposals for continuing 
this Work, but hearing no more of it, supposed 
it a banter. But having since received a letter, 
signed L. A.; several others signed G. M., O. K., 
and T. W., containing very kind and honourable Offers for 
the encouragement of the Work : he thinks himself obliged 
to the Gentlemen, whether it comes to anything or not ; and 
gives them for answer : 

He has, gratis, without reward, profit, or promise of 
any advantage, freely written this Paper a whole year. 
His encouragement has been, to see wise men approve 
it, and accept it. But as neither can his affairs permit 
him to spare so much time as is now required, more 
than at first ; nor can the sale of so small a Paper 
make the Publisher able to allow \i.e., to him] what may 
be encouraging and suitable to the trouble : he therefore 
concluded to lay it down. 
But if those Gentlemen (who are pleased so much to value 
his performance above its merit, as to press him to the 
continuing it, and have made these Offers) are in earnest, 
and will either send him their designed Proposal to Mr. 
Matthews [the Publisher], or give him a meeting: he pro- 
fesses himself willing to oblige them : and will convince them, 
that he is far from being selfish or unreasonable ; and humbly 
desires their answer before the end of next week. 



[Review, No. 100, Vol. I. p. 413. Saturday 17 February, 1705.] 

This being the last Review of this Volume, and designed 
to be so, of this Work; the Author cannot close it without 



Feb^iios] The Review written for nothing. 271 

paying the just debt of duty and acknowledgement to those 
Gentlemen, who, beyond his merit and expectation, have 
been pleased to receive it with the same candour and on the 
same foot[ing] on which it was originally designed, Public 
Usefulness, Entertainment, and Instruction. 

For all his errors, meannesses, and mistakes ; for all his 
digressions, comments, and needless remarks ; for all his 
incorrect, rash, and (unhappily !) too plain expression ; for 
his too freely, too frequently, too positively giving his 
opinion ; for all the sallies out of his province, and inva- 
sions of the talent of the Learned, either as Divines or 
Philosophers ; for all his really, or supposed wrong notions 
of things, places, or persons ; for all his unpohteness of 
style, improprieties and deformities of every sort, whether in 
diction or conception ; for errors of the Press, errors of the 
pen, or errors of opinion : he humbly asks his readers' 
pardon, desires they will place them, with the. addition of their 
charity, to the account of haste, human frailty, and such 
other incidents of common infirmity as, he presumes, most 
of his fellow creatures have, more or less, a share of. 

To all those Gentlemen of Honour, sense, and reading, 
who have, beyond his ambition, honoured this Work with their 
generous approbation, have thought it worth their reading, 
and worth giving the World the trouble they have had with 
it ; the author returns his most humble acknowledgements : 
assuring them, he esteems it a full recompense to all his 
labour, hitherto bestowed gratis upon the World; and values 
himself more in the approbation of a few wise men that can 
judge with candour and impartiality, than upon any presump- 
tion of his own, or than on the unpolished praises of a 
crowd, who, wanting no ignorance, speak what they hear 
others say, and judge without understanding. 

As for the censuring, partial, and prejudiced part of 
mankind ; who dislike the work for its unhappy despicable 
Author, and its Author because his judgement and theirs 
may not agree : it is in vain to capitulate [stipulate] with 
them for civility and fair treatment. The rudeness, the 
heat, the contempt they treat him with, is the less a concern 
to him, as he sees it plainly produced by their passion, rather 
than by their judgement. 

The nature, usefulness, and advantage of the design, they 



272 The Review^oi: to be a Party Paper. [,7 ^eb^fjos: 

have sometimes been forced to acknowledge ; and could like the 
Work, were it performed by anybody but their humble Servant. 

And yet, even to these Gentlemen he has to say, he always 
endeavoured to give them as little offence as possible. He 
has avoided making it a Party paper : and considering the 
numerous insults, assaults, and snares he has met with, to 
bring him into the article of raillery ; he thinks he has said 
less, on all occasions, than any of the Party writers on the 
other side would have done in the like case. 

When he has engaged with such Gentlemen of a contrary 
opinion to himself, who have been of temper and manners ; 
he has carefully behaved himself, and to their satisfaction. 
Though he has not agreed with their opinions; he has 
defended his own, without offence to their persons, or any 
breach of decency and behaviour. 

He heartily wishes all the Gentlemen on the other side 
would give him equal occasion to honour them for their 
charity, temper, and gentlemanlike dealing, as for their 
learning and virtue ; and that when we cannot agree like 
Brethren, we might fall out like Gentlemen. And he would 
willingly capitulate with them, and enter into a treaty or 
Cartel for Exchange of Good Language with them : and to 
let all our debates be carried by strength of reasoning and 
argument, solid proofs, matter of fact, and demonstrations ; 
and not by dint of Billingsgate storms of raillery, and 
showers of ill words, that Frenzy of the Tongue ! and Shame 
of a good Cause ! 

Among the various questions, the Author has had sent 
him to answer (a thing altogether foreign to his first design), 
he had one lately, in the following terms, which he purposely 
reserved to be answered in this place. 

Thus — 

Gentlemen, 

You have given your opinions freely about several sorts of 
Religions, Pray what religion is your Society [i.e.. Scandalous 
Club] of? Yours. 

The truth is, the Author little thought to make a Public 
Confession of Faith in his Paper ; and though he ought 



17 Feb^itos-] Defoe's Coni^ession of Faith. 273 

always to be ready to do it, whenever legally required ; yet 
he shall take the freedom to reply to this Querist, not so 
much in the literal sense of the words, as in the sense which 
he presumes the inquirer would be answered in. 

As to the literal sense, of Religion generally understood, he 
answers directly, Catholic Christians ! 

As to the meaning of it, which he understands to be, 
** What Party do you belong to ? " he freely again answers 
for himself, that which he presumes to be his meaning, A 
Protestant Dissenter. 

And to them that like him the worse for it, he desires their 
patience to read the account he gave of himself, in a letter to 
a Divine of the C[hurch] of E[ngland] in some debates 
between them, on a question published in the last Supple- 
ment, page 2 ; and he freely appeals to the Gentleman him- 
self, who is absolutely a stranger to him, for the justness of 
the quotation. 

I never miss expressing on all occasions, my hearty wishes 
that there was no such thing as Faction or Party in the 
nation. 

I own I dissent in some matters from the Established 
Church. Will you hear my opinion with charity ? I am 
sure you cannot despise such a Dissenter, and I heartily wish 
there no other. 

I dissent from the National Church in nothing doctrinal 
or essential to salvation. I entertain a sincere universal 
charity for the Church, and all her Christian members. 

I earnestly wish and desire I could conform in all things 
the Law requires. 

I freely and heartily acquiesce in the Government being 
always in the hands of the Church [i.e., that all Ministers 
of State should always be Members of the Church of 
England] : and if it were entirely in my choice or disposal, 
would place it there, rather than in any sort of, or in the 
hands of all the Dissenters together. 

I can never be guilty of undermining the Church, or fo- 
menting any faction or rebellion against her : for I would 
have her hold the reins of Government. 

I confess I would have the Church extend her charity and 

S 3 



274 Defoe's reply to the Warm Gentlemen. [^^ ^b^j^^oj; 

tenderness to us that cannot conform ; not treat us as enemieSy 
condemn us unheard, and punish us not being guilty. 



As to those Warm Gentlemen, whom no argument will 
reach, no courtesy oblige, who will damn the Author and his 
Work in spite of argument, sense, or manners ; let my Lord 
Rochester answer for us, when, writing of his Poetry, he 
says, 

I slight the rabble ! 'Tis enough for me, 

If Sackville, Saville, Boyle, and Wycherley, 

Great B , and S , and C , and BUCKINGHAM, 

And some few more whom I omit to name. 
Approve my verse, 

I count your censure, fame ! 

The Author thinks it convenient to inform the world that 
this Paper not being able to contain all he thinks needful to 
say, at the dismiss of this work ; there will be two more 
papers published in course, as the conclusion of the whole. 

Also that a Preface and Index shall be prepared to be bound 
up with the volume ; which all those Gentlemen who have 
made collections [sets] of the Paper, will find necessary to have 
to complete the book. 



How the Review came to be continued, 

[Review, No. loi, Vol. I./. 420. Tuesday, 20 Feb., 1705.] 

The author of this, having received a very obliging letter, 
signed, P. G., D. H., L. M., J. B., V. R., B. B., &c., con- 
cerning the promoting, supporting, and continuing this Work; 
the Author, acknowledging the courtesy and kindness of the 
Gentlemen, desires they will please to give him leave, and 
direct him where to send them an answer in writing, before 
he publishes their generous offer. 

[StQ pp. 231, 240.] 



Daniel Defoe. 

The Revolution <?/'i688, its principles a7id 
purposes in a nutshell. 



276 



Daniel Defoe 



The Revolution of 1688, its principles and 
purposes^ in a nutshell, 

[Written at the time of the trials of Doctor Sacheverel, the High 
Flying Doctor, in the Review Nos. ii8 and 119. Vol. VI. Saturday 
7th and Tuesday loth January, 17 ic] 

With the, humblest submission to the opinion of the British 
Parliament, and yet in a cheerful confidence in their justice, 
love to their country, and zeal for the public peace : I take 
leave to address this Paper to the Commons of Britain, 
assembled at this time in Parliament, as follows. 

He public peace of Britain, Right Honour- 
ables ! having by the Wonders of Provi- 
dence, been preserved in the late glorious 
Revolution ; and the religious as well as 
civil liberties of this island been rescued 
from the ruinous projects of Popery and 
Tyranny: it pleased GOD to direct the 
Commons of England by their Representa- 
tives, assembled in Convention in conjunction with the 
Nobility, to apply themselves to such future Establishments 
as might effectually secure us from any subsequent relapse 
into the mischiefs of the former reign. 

To this purpose, they presented the Crown, upon the 
abdication of the late King James (whom Guilt and Fear 
would not permit to shew his face among us), to their glorious 
Deliverer, King William, and his blessed Consort, Queen 
Mary then the next Protestant heir in succession : and en- 
tailed it on Her present Majesty [Queen Anne] in default 
of heirs ; without any regard to the other issue of King 
James, then alive or to be born. 




7-io>n^itil"] Results of the Convention of 1689. 277 

By which celebrated action, I humbly conceive, the Con- 
vention did the several things following : whether immediately 
or consequentially, or both, is not material. 

1. They effectually secured the Crown in the hands of Protes- 

tants ; having passed that never-to-be-forgotten Vote ; 

which was sent up to the Lords, January 22, i68g. 

That it is inconsistent with the Constitution of this Pro- 
testant Nation, to be governed by a Popish Prince. 
Upon which Claim, our Religion is now established ; 

and our religious rights are all founded and secured. 

2. They asserted the Rights of the People of England, as- 

sembled either in Parliament or Convention, to dispose 

of the Crown, even in bar of hereditary right ; i.e., in 

Parliament style [language] to limit the Succession of the 

Crown. 

By which latter article, I humbly suggest, all the pretences 

of our Princes to an inherent Divine Right of blood, and to an 

Absolute Unconditioned Obedience m their subjects; together 

with that modern delusion of the Unlawfulness of Resistance or 

Self-Defence, in cases of Tyranny and Oppression, were entirely 

suppressed, declared against, and disowned. 

These things (as the Journals of our own House will 
abundantly inform you, and to which I humbly refer) received, 
at divers times and in various manners, all possible sanction, 
both in the same assembled Convention when afterwards 
turned into a Parliament, and in several subsequent Parlia- 
ments to this day, in the several Acts passed in both King- 
doms, iov Recognition of King WiLLlAM and Queen Mary, for 
taking the Association for security of the persons of the King and 
Queen, iov further Limitation of the Crown, for Settling the Suc- 
cession, and, at last, for Uniting the two Kingdoms. To all 
which Acts, I humbly refer. Every one of them, either 
expressly mentioning, or necessarily implying the Right of 
the Parliament to limit the Succession of their Princes, and to 
declare the established conditions of the People's obedience. 
But all which Acts, the absurd doctrines of Passive Obedience 
and Non-Resistance are, by undeniable consequences, ex- 
ploded and rejected, as inconsistent with the Constitution of 
Britain. 

Now, may it please this Honourable House to consider, 



278 The Series of Wonders. [y-^oS 



Defoe, 
an. 1710. 



that, though as this Happy Revolution was established over all 
gainsayers, and that all opposition to it was crushed, in both 
Kingdoms, in its beginning : yet it involved the nation in a 
bloody, expensive, and a tedious war with the King of France ; 
the great Pattern of Tyranny in Europe, and to whom all 
the abdicated Tyrants of Christendom have fled for succour. 
And as this terrible War has continued now above twenty 
years, with a small interval of an imperfect Peace ; and, as 
is usual in like cases, it has been attended with various 
[varying] successes, especially before the late Series of 
Wonder [Marlborough's victories] began, in which GOD 
has signally blessed Her Majesty with an almost uninter- 
rupted success : so the great and powerful enemies of our 
Peace abroad, were not without their secret friends among 
us ; who, as traitors in the bosom of their native country, 
have, by all manner of artifice, from time to time endeavoured 
to weaken the hands of the established Government, to en- 
courage the enemy, and on all occasions assisted them in 
open invasions or secret treachery, to attempt the Restora- 
tion of Slavery and Bondage upon their own countiy. 

This is the prayer of the [above] Petition ! this is the 
present cure for all this popular frenzy ! and will do more to 
establish our Peace, than the whole twenty years' war has 
done ! this will prepare us, either to carry the war on abroad, 
or to receive peace when GOD shall think fit to trust us with 
that blessing again ! 

That you would be pleased to condemn the Principle ! 

It is nothing what ye do with the man [Doctor 

Sacheverel]. 
The Principle is the plague sore that runs upon the 
nation ; and its contagion infects our gentry, infects our 
clergy, infects our politics ; and affects the loyalty, the zeal, 
and the peace of the whole island. 

Passive Obedience, Non-Resistance, and the Divine Right 
of Hereditary Succession are inconsistent with the rights of 
the British Nation (not to examine the Rights of Nature)! 
inconsistent with the Constitution of the British Govern- 
ment ! inconsistent with the Being and Authority of the 
British Parliament ! and inconsistent with the declared 
essential Foundation of the British Monarchy ! 



7-.o>n.^^^°o:] The beautiful garment of Liberty. 279 

These abhorred notions would destroy the inestimable 
Privileges of Britain, of which the House of Commons are 
the glorious conservators ! They would subject all our 
Liberties to the arbitrary lust of a single person ! They 
would expose us to all kinds of tyranny, and subvert the 
very foundations on which we stand ! They would destroy 
the unquestioned sovereignty of our Laws; which, for so 
many Ages, have triumphed over the invasions and usurpa- 
tions of ambitious Princes ! They would denude us of the 
beautiful garment of Liberty, and prostitute the honour of 
the nation to the mechanicism of Slavery ! They would 
divest GOD Almighty of His praise, in giving His humble 
creatures a right to govern themselves ! and they charge 
Heaven with having meanly subjected mankind to the crime, 
Tyranny ! which He himself abhors. 

It is to this Honourable House, the whole nation now 
looks for relief against these invaders. 

Honest men hope that now is the time when the illegitimate 
spurious birth of these Monsters in Politics shall be exposed 
by your voice. 

Now is the time, when you shall declare it criminal for any 
Man to assert that the subjects of Britain are obliged to an 
absolute unconditioned Obedience to their Princes. The contrary 
being evident by the Claim of Right made, in both Kingdoms 
[England and Scotland], when they tendered the Crowns to 
King William and Queen Mary ; and in the Oath of Govern- 
ment taken by them, at the same time; and which no man, 
by law, can or dare impeach ! and, indeed, ought not to be 
permitted unpunished, to reproach. 

Now is the time, when you shall declare it criminal for any 
man to assert the Illegality of Resistance on any pretence what- 
ever &c. ; or, in plain English [against] The Right of Self- 
Defence against Oppression and Violence, whether national or 
personal. 

The contrary of which is evident by the subjects of 
Britain inviting over the Prince of Orange to assert and 
defend the Liberties of this island, and to resist the invasions 
of Popery and Tyranny ; in which he was honourably joined 
by the Nobility and Commons assembled at Nottingham : 
who took arms, anno 1688, to resist the Invaders of our 
Liberties ; and were assisted and countenanced by the voices 



2^0 kiGHT OF Parliament to limit the Crown. [Jan^iji^ 

and persons of the Clergy, the Prelates, and Her [present] 
Majesty in person. 

Now is the time, when you shall again declare the Rights of 
the People of England, either in Parliament or in Convention 
assembled, to limit the Succession of the Crown in bar of heredi- 
tary claims; while those claims are attended with other circum- 
stances inconsistent with the Public Safety and the established 
Laws of the Land. Since Her Majesty's Title to the Crown 
(as now owned and acknowledged by the whole nation) and 
the Succession to the Crown (as entailed by the Act of Succes- 
sion in England, and the late Union of Britain), are built on 
the Right of Parliament to limit the Crown, and that Right 
was recognized by the Revolution. 



This is the substance of the Author's humble application, 

viz. : 

That the Sense of the House as to the principles of 
Passive Obedience, Non-Resistance, and Parliamentary 
Limitation might be so declared, as that this wicked Party 
may be no more at liberty to insult the Government, the 
Queen, and the Parliament ; or to disturb the peace, or 
debauch the loyalty of Her Majesty's subjects. 




2«I 




Daniel Defoe. 
T^he Education of Women, 

[All Essay upon Projects. 
Written about 1692, but 
first printed in 1697.] 

Have often thought of it as one of the most bar- 
barous customs in the world, considering us as a 
civihzed and a Christian country, that we deny the 
advantages of learning to women. We reproach 
the sex every day with folly and impertinence ; 
while I am confident, had they the advantages of education 
equal to us, they would be guilty of less than ourselves. 

One would wonder, indeed, how it should happen that 
women are conversible at all ; since they are only beholden 
to natural parts, for all their knowledge. Their youth is 
spent to teach them to stitch and sew, or make baubles. 
They are taught to read, indeed, and perhaps to write their 
names, or so ; and that is the height of a woman's education. 
And I would but ask any who slight the sex for their 
understanding, what is a man (a gentleman, I mean) good 
for, that is taught no more ? I need not give instances, or 
examine the character of a gentleman, with a good estate, oi 
a good family, and with tolerable parts ; and examine what 
figure he makes for want of education. 

The soul is placed in the body like a rough diamond ; and 
must be polished, or the lustre of it will never appear. And 
'tis manifest, that as the rational soul distinguishes us from 
brutes ; so education carries on the distinction, and makes 
some less brutish than others. This is too evident to need 
any demonstration. But why then should women be denied 
the benefit of instruction ? If knowledge and understanding 
had been useless additions to the sex, GOD Almighty would 
never have given them capacities; for he made nothing 



2S2 No Learning to be Denied to Women, p- 



D«foe, 



needless. Besides, I would ask such, What they can see in 
ignorance, that they should think it a necessary ornament to 
a woman ? or how much worse is a wise woman than a fool ? 
or what has the woman done to forfeit the privilege of being 
taught ? Does she plague us with her pride and imperti- 
nence ? Why did we not let her learn, that she might have 
had more wit ? Shall we upbraid women with folly, when 
'tis only the error of this inhuman custom, that hindered 
them from being made wiser ? 

The capacities of women are supposed to be greater, and 
their senses quicker than those of the men ; and what they 
might be capable of being bred to, is plain from some 
instances of female wit, which this age is not without. 
Which upbraids us with Injustice, and looks as if we denied 
women the advantages of education, for fear they should vie 
v\-ith the men in their improvements 




HeyJshould be taught all sorts of breeding suitable 
both to their genius and quality. And in particular. 
Music and Dancing ; which it would be cruelty to 
bar the sex of, because they are their darlings. But 
besides this, they should be taught languages, as particularly 
French and Italian : and I would venture the injur}- of giving 
a woman more tongues than one. They should, as a par- 
ticular study, be taught all the graces of speech, and all the 
necessary- air of conversation ; which our common education 
is so defective in, that I need not expose it. They should be 
brought to read books, and especially histon,- ; and so to 
read as to make them understand the world, and be able to 
know and judge of things when they hear of them. 

To such whose genius would lead them to it, I would deny 
no sort of learning ; but the chief thing, in general, is to 
cultivate the understandings of the sex, that they may be 
capable of all sorts of conversation ; that their parts and 
judgements being improved, they may be as profitable in their 
conversation as they are pleasant. 

Women, in my observation, have little or no difference in 
them, but as they are or are not distinguished by education. 
Tempers, indeed, may in some degree influence them, but 
the main distinguishing part is their Breeding. 

The whole sex are generally quick and sharp. I believe, 



D. Defoe 



,1^] A WELL BRED, AND AN ILL BRED WoMAN. 283 

I may be allowed to say, generally so : for you rarely see 
them lumpish and heavy, when they are children ; as boys 
will often be. If a woman be well bred, and taught the 
proper management of her natural wit ; she proves generally 
very sensible and retentive. 

And, without partiality, a woman of sense and manners is 
the finest and most delicate part of GOD's Creation, the 
glory of Her Maker, and the great instance of His singular 
regard to man, His darling creature : to whom He gave the 
best gift either GOD could bestow or man receive. And 'tis 
the sordidest piece of folly and ingratitude in the world, to 
withhold from the sex the due lustre which the advantages 
of education gives to the natural beauty of their minds. 

A woman well bred and well taught, furnished with the 
additional accomplishments of knowledge and behaviour, is 
a creature without comparison. Her society is the emblem of 
sublimer enjoyments, her person is angelic, and her conver- 
sation heavenly. She is all softness and sweetness, peace, 
love, wit, and delight. She is ever>' way suitable to the 
sublimest wish : and the man that has such a one to his 
portion, has nothing to do but to rejoice in her, and be 
thankful. 

On the other hand. Suppose her to be the very same 
woman, and rob her of the benefit of education, and it 
follows — 

If her temper be good, want of education makes her soft 

and easy. 
Her wit, for want of teaching, makes her impertinent 

and talkative. 
Her knowledge, for want of judgement and experience, 

makes her fanciful and whimsical. 
If her temper be bad, want of breeding makes her worse ; 

and she grows haughty, insolent, and loud. 
If she be passionate, want of manners makes her a 
termagant and a scold, which is jnuch at one with 
Lunatic. 
If she be proud, want of discretion (which still is 
breeding^ makes her conceited, fantastic, and ridi- 
culous. 
And from these she degenerates to be turbulent, clamo- 
rous, noisy, nasty, the devil ! . . . . 



284 Women, god's GLORIOUS CREATURES. [°-^l 



Defo* 

692. 




He great distinguishing difference, which is seen in 

the world between men and women, is in their 

education ; and this is manifested by comparing it 

with the difference between one man or woman, and 

another. 

And herein it is that I take upon me to make such a bold 
assertion, That all the world are mistaken in their practice 
about women. For I cannot think that GOD Almighty ever 
made them so delicate, so glorious creatures; and furnished 
them with such charms, so agreeable and so delightful to 
mankind ; with souls capable of the same accomplishments 
with men : and all, to be only Stewards of our Houses, 
Cooks, and Slaves. 

Not that I am for exalting the female government in the 
least : but, in short, / would have men take women for 
companions, and educate them to he fit for it. A woman of 
sense and breeding will scorn as much to encroach upon the 
prerogative of man, as a man of sense will scorn to oppress 
the weakness of the woman. But if the women's souls were 
refined and improved by teaching, that word would be lost. 
To say, the weakness of the sex, as to judgement, would be 
nonsense ; for ignorance and folly would be no more to be 
found among women than men. 

I remember a passage, which I heard from a very 
fine woman. She had wit and capacity enough, an extra- 
ordinary shape and face, and a great fortune : but had 
been cloistered up all her time ; and for fear of being stolen, 
had not had the liberty of being taught the common 
necessary knowledge of women's affairs. And when she 
came to converse in the world, her natural wit made her so 
sensible of the want of education, that she gave this short 
reflection on herself: " I am ashamed to talk with my very 
maids," says she, " for I don't know when they do right or 
wrong. I had more need go to school, than be married." 

I need not enlarge on the loss the defect of education is to 
the sex ; nor argue the benefit of the contrary practice. 'Tis 
a thing will be more easily granted than remedied. This 
chapter is but an Essay at the thing: and I refer the 
Practice to those Happy Days (if ever they shall be) when 
men shall be wise enough to mend it. 



l1 

LAW 



IS A 



Exemplified in the CASE of 

The Lord Strutt, John Bull, 

Nicholas Frog, and Lewis Baboon : 
Who spent all they had in a Lawsuit. 



Printed from a Manuscript found in the Cabinet 
of the famous Sir Humphry Polesworth, 



LONDON: 

Printed for John Morphew, near iStationers' 
Hall, I 7 I 2. Price 3d. 



28; 




THE CONTENTS. 



Chap. I. The Occasion of the Lawsuit />. 289 

II. How Bull and Frog grew jealous, that the 
Lord Strutt intended to give all his custom 
to his grandfather Lewis Baboon />. 290 

III. A copy of Bull and Frog's letter to Lord 
Strutt />. 291 

IV. How Bull and Frog went to law with 
Lord Strutt about the premisses, and were 
joined by the rest of the Tradesmen p. 292 

V. The true characters of John Bull, Nic. 

Frog, and Hocus />• 293 

VI. Of the various success of the Lawsuit p. 294 

VII. How John Bull was so mightily pleased 
with his success, that he was going to leave off 
his trade, and turn lawyer p. 295 



288 TheCoNTENTS. [p^anf ".s'f^'iI.^^S: 

Chap. VIII. How John discovered that Hocus had an 
intrigue with his wife, and what followed 
thereupon p. 296 

IX. How Signior Cavallo, an Italian Quack, 

undertook to cure Mrs. BULL of her ulcer ...p. 298 

X. Of John Bull's second wife, and the good 

advice that she gave him p. 300 

XI. How John looked over his Attorney's 

bill p. 301 

XII. How John grew angry, resolved to accept 
a Composition ; and what methods were 
practised by the lawyers for keeping him 
from it p. 102 

XIII. How the lawyers agreed to send Don Diego 
DiSMALLO the Conjuror, to JOHN Bull, 
to dissuade him from making an end of his 
Lawsuit; and what passed between them ...p. 304 





Law is a Bottomless Pit. 




CHAPTER I. 

The Occasion of the Lawsuit. 

Need not tell you the great quarrels that 
have happened in our neighbourhood, since the 
death of the late Lord Strutt [the late King oj 
Spain, Charles II., who died in 1700], how the 
Parson [Cardinal Portocarrero] and a cun- 
ning Attorney got him to settle his estate upon his 
cousin Philip Baboon [the Duke of Anjou, 
afterwards PHILIP V.], to the great disappoint- 
ment of his cousin, Esquire South [the Archduke Charles]. 
Some stick not to say, that the Parson and the Attorney forged 
a Will, for which they were well paid by the Family of the 
Baboons [the House of Bourbon]. Let that be as it will, it 
is matter of fact, that the honour and estate have continued 
ever since in the person of Philip Baboon. 

You know that the Lord Strutts have, for many years, been 
possessed of a very great landed estate, well conditioned, 
wooded, watered ; with coal, salt, tin, copper, iron, &c., all 
within themselves : that it has been the misfortune of the 
Family, to be the property of their stewards, tradesmen, and 
inferior servants, which has brought great incumbrances 
upon them ; and, at the same time, the not abating of their 
expensive way of living has forced them to mortage their best 
manors. It is credibly reported, that the butcher's and 
baker's bills of a Lord Strutt that lived two hundred years 
ago, are not yet paid. 



290 France BULLYING ALL Europe. [pant''''2f Feb ^i^' 

When Philip Baboon came first to the possession of the 
LordSxRUTT's estate, his Tradesmen [the Allies], as is usual 
upon such occasions, waited upon him, to wish him joy, and 
to bespeak his custom. The two chief were John Bull 
[the English] the clothier, and Nic. Frog [the Dutch] the linen 
draper. They told him, that " the Bulls and the Frogs had 
served the Lord Strutts with drapery ware for many years, 
that they were honest and fair dealers, that their bills had 
never been questioned, that the Lord Strutts lived gene- 
rously and never used to dirty their fingers with pen, ink, 
and counters, that his Lordship might depend upon their 
honesty, and they would use him as kindly as they had done 
his predecessors." 

The young Lord seemed to take all in good part, and dis- 
missed with a deal of seeming content ; assuring them that 
he did not intend to change any of the honourable maxims of 
his predecessors. 

CHAPTER II. 

How Bull and Frog grew jealous, that the Lord Strutt 
intended to give all his custom to his grandfather Lewis 
Baboon. 

T HAPPENED, unfortunately for the peace of our 
neighbourhood, that this young Lord had an old 
cunning rogue, or, as the Scots call it, a "false loon" 
of a grandfather, that one might justly call a "Jack 
of all trades." Sometimes you would see him behind his 
counter selling broadcloth ; sometimes, measuring linen ; 
next day he would be dealing in mercery ware. High heads, 
ribbons, gloves, fans, and lace, he understood to a nicety ; 
Charles Mather could not bubble a young beau better 
with a toy ! nay, he would descend even to the selling of 
tape, garters, and shoebuckles. When shop was shut up, 
he would go about the neighbourhood, and earn half a crown 
by teaching the young men and maids to dance. By these 
methods he had acquired immense riches, which he used to 
squander away at back-sword, quarter-staff, and cudgel-play, 
m which he took great pleasure ; and challenged all the 
country. 




pZi L'^zKeb.^?^-] Parody of the Partition Trea ties. 29 1 

You will say it is no wonder if Bull and Frog should be 
jealous of this fellow. 

" It is not impossible," says Frog to Bull, " but this old 
rogue will take the management of the young Lord's busi- 
ness into his hands ; besides, the rascal has good ware, and 
will serve him as cheap as anybody, in that case. I leave 
you to judge, what must become of us and our families ! we 
must starve, or turn journeymen to old Lewis Baboon ! 
therefore, neighbour, I hold it advisable that we write to 
young Lord Strutt, to know the bottom of this matter. 



CHAPTER 111. 

A copy of Bull and Frog's letter to Lord Strutt. 

Lord, 

Suppose your Lordship knows that the Bulls and 
the Frogs have served the Lord Strutts with all 
sorts of drapery ware, time out of mind; and whereas 
we are jealous, not without reason, that your Lordship 
intends henceforth to buy of your grandsire, old LEWIS Baboon : 
this is to inform your Lordship, that this proceeding does not suit 
with the circumstances of our families, who have lived and made a 
good figure in the World by the generosity of the Lord Strutts. 
Therefore we think fit to acquaint your Lordship, that you must find 
stifficient security to us, our heirs and assigns, that you will not 
employ LEWIS BABOON, or else we will take our remedy at law, clap 
an action upon you of ;£'20,ooo for old debts, seize and destrain your 
goods and chattels; which, considering your Lordship's circum- 
stances, will plunge you into difficulties from which it will not be 
easy to extricate yourself : therefore we hope when your Lordship 
has better considered on it, you will comply with the desire of 
Your loving friends, 

John Bull, 
N I c . Frog. 

Some of Bull's friends advised him to take gentler methods 

with the young Lord ; but John naturally loved rough play. 

It is impossible to express the surprise of the Lord Strutt, 

upon the receipt of this letter. He was not flush in " ready " 





292 The Allies join England & Holland, [kftt"'!"''." 

[money], either to go to law or to clear old debts; neither 
could he find good bail. 

He offered to bring matters to a friendly accommodation ; 
and promised, upon his word of honour, that he would not 
change his drapers : but all to no purpose, for Bull and 
Frog saw clearly that old Lewis would have the cheating of 
him 1 

CHAPTER IV. 

How Bull and Froo went to law with Lord Strutt about 
the premisses, and were joined by the rest of the Tradesmen. 

Ll endeavours of accommodation between Lord 

Strutt and his drapers proved vain. Jealousies 

increased, and indeed it was rumoured abroad, that 

the Lord Strutt had bespoke his new liveries of 

old Lewis Baboon. 

This coming to Mrs. Bull's ears, when John Bull came 
home, he found all his family in an uproar. Mrs. Bull [the 
late Ministry of Lord GoDOLPHiN and the Duke of Marl- 
borough], you must know, was very apt to be choleric. 

" You sot ! " says she, " you loiter about alehouses and 
taverns ! spend your time at billiards, nine-pins or puppet- 
shows ! or flaunt about the streets in your new gilt chariot 1 
never minding me, nor your numerous family. Don't you 
hear how Lord Strutt has bespoke his liveries at Lewis 
Baboon's shop ! Don't you see how that old fox steals 
away your customers, and turns you out of your business 
every day; and you sit, Hke an idle drone, with your hands in 
your pockets! Fie upon it ! Up man ! rouse thyself! I'll 
sell to my shift, before I'll be so used by that knave ! " 

You must think Mrs. Bull had been pretty well tuned 
up by Frog ; who chimed in with her learned harangue. 

No further delay, now ! but to Counsel learned in the Law 
they go! who unaminously assured them of the justice and 
infallible success of their Lawsuit. 

I told you before, that old Lewis Baboon was a sort of a 
" Jack of all trades " ; which made the Tradesmen jealous, as 
well as Bull and Frog. They hearing of the quarrel, were 
glad of an opportunity of joining against old Lewis Baboon, 



fcrt""!."'!""*:] The ORIGINAL PORTRAIT OF yo^^ i?6^ZZ. 293 

provided that Bull and Frog would bear the charges of the 
suit; even lying Ned the Chimney-sweeper [the Duke of 
Savoy], and Tom the Dustman [the King of Portugal] put 
in their claims ; and the Cause [war] was put into the hands 
of Humphry Hocus [the Duke of Marlborough] the 
Attorney [the General]. 

A Declaration was drawn up to shew, that Bull and Frog 
had undoubted right by prescription to be drapers to the Lord 
Strutts ; that there were several old contracts to that purpose ; 
that Lewis Baboon had taken up the trade of Clothier and 
Draper, without serving his time or purchasing his Freedom; that 
he sold goods, that were not marketable without the stamp; that 
he himself was more fit for a bidly than a tradesman, and went 
about through all the country fairs, challenging people to fight 
prizes, wrestling, and cudgel-play. And abundance more to 
this purpose. 

CHAPTER V. 

The true characters of John Bull, Nic. Frog, and Hocus. 

iOr the better understanding of the following History, 
the reader ought to know, that Bull, in the main, 
was an honest, plain-dealing fellow, choleric, bold, 
and of a very unconstant temper. He dreaded not 
old Lewis either at back-sword, single falchion, or cudgel- 
play; but then he was very apt to quarrel with his best 
friends, especially if they pretended to govern him. If you 
flattered him, you might lead him like a child ! John's 
temper depended very much upon the air ; his spirits rose 
and fell with the weather-glass. John was quick, and under- 
stood his business very well : but no man alive was more 
careless in looking into his accounts; or more cheated by 
partners, apprentices, and servants. This was occasioned 
by his being a boon companion, loving his bottle and his 
diversion : for, to say truth, no man kept a better house 
than John, or spent his money more generously. By plain 
and fair dealing, John had acquired some "plumbs"; and 
might have kept them, had it not been for this unhappy 
Lawsuit. 

Nic. Frog was a cunning sly whoreson, quite the reverse 




294 Character of Duke of Marlborough, [^^^l 



Arbuthnot. 
I. 1712. 



of John in many particulars : covetous, frugal, minded do- 
mestic affairs: would pine his belly to save his pocket ; never 
lost a farthing by careless servants or bad debtors. He did 
not care much for any sort of diversions, except tricks of 
High German artistes and legerdemain. No man exceeded 
Nic. in these. Yet it must be owned, that Nic. was a fair 
dealer ; and, in that way, had acquired immense riches. 

Hocus [the Duke of Marlborough] was an old cunning 
Attorney. What he wanted of skill in law, was made by a 
Clerk which he kept [?], that was the prettiest fellow in the 
world. He loved money, was smooth-tongued, gave good 
words, and seldom lost his temper. He was not " worse 
than an Infidel " ; for he provided plentifully for his family : 
but he loved himself better than them all. He had a terma- 
gant wife [the Duchess of Marlborough], and, as the neigh- 
bours said, " was plaguy henpecked ! " He was seldom 
observed, as some Attorneys will practise, to give his own 
personal evidence in causes : he rather chose to do it per test, 
conduct. In a word, the man was very well for an Attorney 
[General], 

CHAPTER VI. 

Of the various success of the Lawsuit. 



^Aw is a bottomless pit ! It is a cormorant, a harpy 

Wt that devours everything ! " 

fa John Bull was flattered by his lawyers that 

*^ his suit would not last above a year or two, at 
most ; that before that time he would be in quiet possession 
of his business; yet ten long years did Hocus steer his Cause 
[the war] through all the meanders of the Law, and all the 
Courts: no skill, no address was wanting. And, to say 
truth, John did not starve the cause. There wanted not 
" yellow boys " to fee Counsel, hire witnesses, and bribe 
juries. Lord Strutt was generally cast, never had one 
verdict [victory] in his favour : and John was promised, that 
the Next, and the Next, would be the final Determination. But, 
alas, that final Determination and happy conclusion were 
like an enchanted island : the nearer John came to it, the 
further it went from him. New trials upon new points still 
arose! new doubts, new matters to be cleared! In short, 



Para."i7i2.] English victories & French prostration. 295 

lawyers seldom part with so good a cause, till they have got 
the oyster, and their clients the shell. 

John's ready money, book debts, bonds, mortgages, all 
went into the lawyers' pockets. Then John began to borrow 
money on Bank Stock, East India Bonds: and now and then a 
farm went to pot. 

At last, it was thought a good expedient to set up Squire 
South's [Archduke Charles'] title, to prove the Will forged, 
and dispossess Philip, Lord Strutt, at once. Here again 
was a new field for the lawyers 1 and the Cause grew more 
intricate than ever. John grew madder and madder. Wher- 
ever he met any of Lord Strutt's servants, he tore off their 
clothes. Now and then, you would see them come home 
naked, without shoes, stockings, and linen. 

As for old Lewis Baboon, he was reduced to his last shift, 
though he had as many as any other. His children were 
reduced from rich silks to doily stuffs. His servants were in 
rags and barefooted : instead of good victuals, they now lived 
upon neck beef and bullock's liver. In short, nobody got 
much by the matter, but the men of law. 



CHAPTER VII. 

How John Bull was so mightily pleased with his success, 
that he was going to leave off his trade, and turn lawyer. 

T is wisely observed by a great philosopher, that 
" habit is a second nature." This was verified in the 
case of John Bull, who, from an honest and plain 
tradesman, had got such a haunt about the Courts 
of Justice, and such a jargon of law words, that he concluded 
himself as able a lawyer as any that pleaded at the bar, or 
sat on the bench. 

He was overheard, one day, talking to himself after this 
manner. " How capriciously does Fate or Chance dispose 
of mankind ! How seldom is that business allotted to a man 
for which he is fitted by Nature 1 It is plain I was intended 
for a man of law ! How did my guardians mistake my genius, 
in placing me, like a mean slave, behind a counter ! Bless 
me ! what immense estates these fellows raise by the Law ! 
besides, it is the profession of a Gentleman. What a pleasure 




296 The Dutch more prudent in the war. [^■ai'"!'"!""^" 

it is to be victorious in a cause ! to swagger at the bar ! 
What a fool am I to drudge any more in this woollen trade ! 
for a lawyer I was born, and a lawyer I will be I One is 
never too old to learn ! " 

All this while, John had conned over such a catalogue of 
hard words, as were enough to conjure up the Devil. These 
he used to bubble indifferently in all companies, especially at 
coffeehouses ; so that his neighbour tradesmen began to shun 
his company, as a man that was cracked. Instead of the 
affairs of Blackwall Hall, and price of broad cloth, wool, 
bayes; he talked of nothing but "Actions upon the Case, 
Returns, Capias, Alias capias, Demurrers, Venire facias, 
Replevins, Supersedeas, Certioraris, Writs of Error, Actions 
of Trover and Conversion, Trespasses, Precipes et Dedimus." 

This was matter of jest to the learned in law. However, 
Hocus and the rest of the tribe, encouraged John in his 
fancy; assuring him, that he had a great genius for law; that 
they questioned not but, in time, he might raise money enough 
by it, to reimburse him of all his charges ; that if he studied, 
he would undoubtedly arrive to the dignity of a Lord Chief 
Justice. As for the advice of honest friends and neighbours, 
John despised it. He looked upon them as fellows of a low 
genius ; poor grovelling mechanics ! John reckoned it more 
honour to have got one favourable verdict, than to have sold 
a bale of broad cloth. 

As for Nic. Frog, to say the truth, he was more prudent : 
for though he followed his Lawsuit closely, he neglected not 
his ordinary business ; but was both in Court and in his shop 
at the proper hours. 

CHAPTER VII L 

How John discovered that Hocus had an intrigue with his 
wife, and what followed thereupon. 

|Ohn had not run on a madding so long, had it not 
been for an extravagant wife [the Administration of 
Lord GODOLPHiN], whom Hocus perceiving John 
to be fond of, was resolved to win over to his side. 
It was observed by all the neighbourhood, that Hocus had 




krtL*"^i7i2.]ToRY DESCRIPTION OF A Whig Government. 297 

dealings with John's wife, that were not so much for his 
honour : but this was perceived by John a little too late. 

She was a luxurious jade, loved splendid equipages, plays, 
treats, and balls ; differing very much from the sober manners 
of her ancestors, and by no means fit for a tradesman's wife. 
Hocus fed her extravagancy, and, what was still more 
shameful, with John's own money I It is matter of fact, 
that upon all occasions, she ran out extravagantly on the 
praise of Hocus. When John used to be finding fault with 
his bills, she used to reproach him as ungrateful to his 
greatest benefactor ! one that had taken so much pains in his 
Lawsuit, and retrieved his Family from the oppression of old 
Lewis Baboon. 

A good swinging sum of John's readiest cash went towards 
building of Hocus's country-house [the Vote for the building 0} 
Blenheim]. This affair between Hocus and Mrs. Bull was 
so open, that all the world were scandalized at it. John was 
not so clodpated, but at last he took the hint. 

The Parson of the parish [Doctor Sacheverel] preaching 
one day, a little sharply against adultery [Resistance to Kings], 
Mrs. Bull told her husband, that " he was a very uncivil 
fellow to use such coarse language before People of Condi- 
tion ; " that ** Hocus was of the same mind, and that they 
would join, to have him turned out of his living, for using 
personal reflections." 

" How do you mean,*' says John, '* by personal reflec- 
tions ? I hope in God, wife, he did not reflect on you ! " 

" No, thank God ! my reputation is too well established 
in the world, to receive any hurt from such a foul-mouthed 
scoundrel as he ! His doctrine tends only to make husbands 
[Sovereigns], tyrants; and wives [Nations], slaves. Must we 
be shut up, and husbands left to their liberty ? Very pretty, 
indeed ! A wife must never go abroad with a Platonic to see 
a play or a ball ! she must never stir without her husband, nor 
walk in Spring Gardens with a cousin! I do say, husband ! 
and I will stand by it, that without the innocent freedoms of 
life, matrimony would be a most intolerable state ! and that 
a wife's virtue ought to be the result of her own reason, and 
not of her husband's government. For my part, I would 
scorn a husband that would be jealous ! " 

All this while, John's blood boiled in his veins. He was 



298 Shrewsbury tries to save the Whigs. [i"an'L"'i7i°2'! 

now confirmed in his suspicions. Jade was the best word 
that John gave her. 

Things went from better to worse, until Mrs. Bull aimed 
a knife at John ; though John threw a bottle at her head very 
brutally indeed. After this, there was nothing but confusion. 
Bottles, glasses, spoons, plates, knives, forks, and dishes iiew 
about like dust. The result of which was, that Mrs. Bull 
received a bruise in her right side, of which she died half a 
year after [the fall of Lord Godolphin's Administration, about 
six months after the trial of Doctor Sacheverel in March, 
1710]. 

The bruise imposthumated, and afterwards turned into 
an ulcer, which made everybody shy to come near her, she 
smelt so ; yet she wanted not the help of many able 
physicians, who attended very diligently, and did what men 
of skill could do : but all to no purpose, for her condition 
was now quite desperate ; all regular physicians and her 
nearest relations having given her over. 



CHAPTER IX. 

How Signior Cavallo, an Italian Quack, undertook to cure 
Mrs. Bull of her tdcer. 

Here is nothing so impossible in Nature, but mounte- 
banks will undertake ; nothing so incredible, but 
they will affirm. Mrs. Bull's condition was looked 
upon as desperate by all Men of Art. Then Signior 
Cavallo [the Duke of Shrewsbury] judged it was high 
time for him to interpose. He bragged that he had an 
infallible ointment and plaster, which, being applied to the 
sore, would cure it in a few days ; at the same time, he would 
give her a pill that would purge off all her bad humours, 
sweeten her blood, and rectify her disturbed imagination. 

In spite of all Signior Cavallo's applications, the patient 
grew worse. Every day she stank so, that nobody durst 
come within a stone's throw of her; except Signior Cavallo 
and his wife, whom he sent every day to dress her, she having 
a very gentle, soft hand. All this while, Signior apprehended 
no danger. 




part'i."*!""'.] Whig legacies: War, Discord, Interest. 299 

If one asked him, " How Mrs. Bull did ? " 

" Better and better ! " says Signior Cavallo ; the " parts 
heal and her constitution mends. If she submits to my 
Government, she will be abroad in a little time." 

Nay, it is reported that he wrote to his friends in the 
country that " she should dance a jig [iJicet the Parliament] 
next October, in Westminster Hall ! that her illness had 
been chiefly owing to bad physicians." 

At last, Signior, one day, was sent for in great haste, his 
patient growing worse and worse. 

When he came, he affirmed that " it was a gross mistake, 
that she was never in a fairer way. Bring hither the salve," 
says he, " and give her a plentiful draught of my cordial ! " 

As he was applying his ointments, and administering the 
cordial, the patient gave up the ghost : to the confusion of 
Signior Cavallo, and the great joy of Bull and his friends. 
Signior flang away out of the house in great disorder, and 
swore there was foul play, for he was sure that his medicines 
were infallible. 

Mrs. Bull having died without any signs of repentance or 
devotion, the Clergy would hardly allow her Christian burial. 

The Relations had once resolved to sue John for murder: 
but considering better of it, and that such a trial would rip 
up old sores, and discover things not so much to the reputa- 
tion of the deceased ; they dropped their design. 

She left no Will : only there was found in her strong box 
the following words written on a scrip of paper. " My curse 
on John Bull and all my posterity, if ever they come to any 
Composition with my Lord Strutt ! " 

There were many epitaphs written upon her. One was as 
follows; 

Here lies John's wife, 

Plague of his life ! 

She spent his wealth ! 

She wronged his health ! 

A nd left him daughters tJiree 

A s bad as She ! 

The daughters' names were Polemia [War], Discordia 
[Discord], and UsuRiA [High rate of Interest]. 




300 A COMPLIMENT TO QuEEN AnNE. [pi^ l^"? F°eb.^;!^: 



CHAPTER X. 

Of John Bull's second wife, and the good advice that she 
gave him. 

|Ohn quickly got the better of his grief, and it being 
that neither his constitution, nor the affairs of his 
Family could permit him to live in an unmarried 
state : he resolved to get him another wife. 

A cousin of his last wife was proposed ; but he would 
have no more of that breed ! In short, he wedded a sober 
Country Gentlewoman, of a good family, and plentiful fortune 
[Queen Anne] : the reverse of the other in her temper. Not 
iDut that she loved money, for she was of a saving temper ; and 
applied her fortune to pay John's clamorous debts, that the 
unfrugal methods of his last wife, and this ruinous Lawsuit 
had brought him into. 

One day, as she had got her husband into a good humour, 
she talked to him after the following manner: "My Dear! 
since I have been your wife, I have observed great abuses and 
disorders in your Family. Your servants are mutinous and 
quarrelsome, and cheat you most abominably. Your cook- 
maid is in a combination with your butcher, poulterer, and 
fishmonger. Your butler purloins your liquor, and your 
brewer sells you hogwash. Your baker cheats, both in weight 
and tale [mtmher]. Even your milk-woman and your nursery- 
maid have a fellow feeling. Your tailor, instead of shreds, 
cabbages [steals] whole yards of cloth. Besides, having such 
long scores, and not going to market for ready money, forces 
us to take bad ware of the Tradesmen, at their own price. 
You have not posted your books these ten years. [Lord 
GoDOLPHiN carrying War Credits over from year to year, during 
the period of his Administration.] How is it possible for a 
man of business to keep his affairs even in the World, at this 
rate? Pray God, this Hocus be honest! Would to God, 
you would look over his bills, and see how matters stand 
between Frog and you ! Prodigious sums are spent in this 
Lawsuit, and more must be borrowed of scriveners and 
usurers, at heavy interest. Besides, my Dear! let me beg of 
you to lay aside that wild project, of leaving your business to 
turn lawyer : for which, let me tell you, Nature never 



pih'^fte'b.'f^PJ Totalling up the War Credits. 301 

designed you. Believe me, these rogues do but flatter, that 
they may pick your pocket ! " 

John heard all this while, with patience, till she pricked 
his maggot, and touched him in the tender point. Then, he 
broke out into a violent passion, " What, I not fit for a 
lawyer ! Let me tell you, my clodpated relations spoilt the 
greatest genius in the World, when they bred me a mechanic ! 
Lord Strutt and his old rogue of a grandsire have found, to 
their cost, that I can manage a Lawsuit as well as any other." 

" I do not deny what you say," says Mrs. Bull, " nor do I 
call in question your parts; but I say it does not suit with your 
circumstances. You and your predecessors have lived in good 
reputation among your neighbours by this same clothing 
trade; and it were madness to leave it off! Besides, there 
are few that know all the tricks and cheats of these lawyers. 
Does not your own experience teach you, how they have 
drawn you on from one Term to another ; and how you have 
danced the round of all the Courts, still flattering you with 
a final issue : and, for aught I can see, your Cause is not a 
bit clearer than it was seven years ago." 

" I'll be hanged," says John, " if I accept of any Com- 
position from Strutt, or his Grandfather ! I'll rather wheel 
about the streets an engine to grind knives and scissors ! 
However, I will take your advice, and look over my accounts." 



CHAPTER XI. 

How John looked over his Attorney's bill. 

Hen John first brought out the bills [the War 
Credits], the surprise of all the Family was unex- 
pressible, at the prodigious dimensions of them. In 
short, they would have measured with the best bale 
of cloth in John's shop. Fees to Judges, puisne Judges, 
Clerks, Protonotaries, Philizers, Chirographers, Under Clerks, 
Proclamators, Counsel, Witnesses, Jurymen, Marshals, Tip- 
staffs, Cryers, Porters ; for enrollings, exemplifications, bails, 
vouchers, returns, caveats, examinations, filings of words, 
entries, declarations, replications, recordais, nolle proseqiiis, 
certioraris, mittimus, demurrers, special verdicts, informations, 
scire facias, supersedeas, Habeas Corpus, coach hire, treating of 
witnesses, &c. 




302 The Queen calls in Lord Oxford. [pit:^'i8''p°eu.T;": 

" Verily," says John, " there are a prodigious number of 
learned words in this Law ; what a pretty science it is ! " 

" Ay, but husband ! you have paid for every syllable and 
letter of these fine words 1 Bless me ! what immense sums 
are at the bottom of the account ! " 

John spent several weeks in looking over his bills, and by 
comparing and stating his accounts, he discovered that, 
besides the extravagance of every article, he had been 
egregiously cheated ; that he had paid for Counsel that were 
never fee-ed, for Writs that were never drawn, for dinners 
that were never dressed, and journeys that were never made. 

In short, that Hocus and Frog had agreed to throw the 
burden of the Lawsuit upon his shoulders. 

CHAPTER XII. 

How John grew angry, resolved to accept a Composition ; and 
what methods were practised by the lawyers for keeping him from it. 

Ell might the learned Daniel Burgess say, that 
" a Lawsuit is a suit for life ! " He that sows his 
grain upon marble, will have many a hungry belly 
before harvest. This John felt, by woful experience. 
John's Cause was a good milch cow ; and many a man 
subsisted his family out of it. 

However John began to think it high time to look about 
him. He had a cousin in the country, one Sir Roger Bold 
[Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford] ; whose predecessors 
had been bred up to the law, and knew as much of it as 
anybody ; but having left off the profession for some time, 
they took great pleasure in compounding lawsuits amongst 
their neighbours : for which, they were the aversion of the 
Gentlemen of the Long Robe, and at perpetual war with all 
the country attorneys. 

John put his Case in Sir Roger's hands, desiring him to 
make the best of it. 

The news had no sooner reached the ears of the lawyers, 
but they were all in an uproar. They brought all the rest of 
the Tradesmen [the Allies] upon John. Squire South [Arch- 
duke Charles] swore he was betrayed, that he would starve 
before he compounded. Frog said he was highly wronged. 
Even Ned the Chimney-sweeper [Duke of Savoy] and Tom 




kni'^'^jT^i] Portrait of Duchess of Marlborough. 303 

the Dustman [King of Portugal] complained that their 
Interest was sacrificed. 

As for Hocus's wife [the Duchess of Marlborough], she 
took a hackney chair, and came to John's house immediately; 
and fell a scolding at his wife [Queen Anne], like the 
mother of Beelzebub ! *' You silly, awkward, ill-bred, 
country sow, you ! Have you no more manners than to rail 
at my husband, that has saved that clodpated, numskulled, 
ninny-hammer of yours from ruin, and all his Family ! It is 
well known how he has risen early, and sat up late to make 
him easy ; when he was sotting at every alehouse in the town ! 
I knew his last wife ! She was a woman of breeding, good- 
humour, and complaisance ! knew how to live in the world ; 
but as for you, you look like a puppet moved by clockwork ! 
Your clothes hang upon you as if they svere upon tenter- 
hooks ; and you come into a room as if you were going to 
steal something ! Get you gone into the country, to look 
after your mother's poultry, to milk the cows, churn the 
butter, and dress up nosegays for a holiday! and meddle not 
with matters that you know no more of, than the signpost 
before your door ! It is well known that my husband has 
an established reputation ! He never swore an oath, nor 
told a lie in all his life ! He is grateful to his benefactors, 
faithful to his friends, liberal to his dependents, and dutiful 
to his superiors ! He values not your money more than the 
dust under his feet ; but he hates to be abused ! Once for 
all, Mrs. Mynx ! leave off talking of my husband, or I will 
put out these saucer eyes of yours ! and make that red 
streaked country face look as raw as an ox-cheek upon a 
butcher's stall ! Remember, I say, that there are pillories 
and ducking stools ! " With this, away she flang ; leaving 
Mrs. Bull no time to reply. 

No stone was left unturned to fright John from this Com- 
position [the Peace, finally settled by the treaties signed at Utrecht, 
on the ^ist March of the next year after this tract]. Some- 
times they spread reports at the coffeehouses, that John and 
his wife had run mad ! that they intended to give up house, 
and make over all their estate to old Lewis Baboon ! that 
John had been often heard talking to himself, and seen in the 
streets without shoes or stockings ! that he did nothing, from 
morning to night, but beat his servants ; after having been 
the best master alive ! As for his wife, she was a mere natural ! 




J04 Lord Nottingham accused of trimming. [i;ft''i"'i7°.': 

Sometimes John's house was beset with a whole regiment 
of Attorneys' clerks, bailiffs and bailiffs' followers, and other 
small retainers of the law ; who threw stones at his windows, 
and dirt at himself as he went along the street. 

When John complained of want of ready money to carry on 
his Suit ; they advised him to pawn his plate and jewels, and 
that Mrs. Bull should sell her linen and wearing clothes ! 



CHAPTER XIII. 

How the lawyers agreed to send Don DiEGO DiSMALLO the 
Conjuror, to John Bull, to dissuade him from making an end 
of his Lawsuit; and what passed between them. 

Bull. \h #il ^1^^ ^°^^ ^y S°°^ friend Don Diego [Daniel 
Finch, Earl of Nottingham] ? 

Don. Never worse ! Who can be easy, 
when their friends are playing the fool ? 

Bull. But then you may be easy, for I am resolved to 
play the fool no longer ! I wish I had hearkened to you*^ 
advice, and compounded this Lawsuit sooner. 

Don. It is true, I was then against the ruinous ways of 
this Lawsuit ; but looking over my Scheme since, I find there 
is an error in my calculation. Sol and Jupiter were in a 
wrong House, but I have now discovered their true places. 
I tell you I find that the stars are unanimously of opinion, 
that you will be successful in this Cause, that Lewis will 
come to an untimely end, and Strutt will be timed out of 
doors by his wife and children. 

[The Satire here is against Lord NOTTINGHAM ; and the Party 
of the High Flyers or the Warm Gentlemen, of which he was one of 
the leaders. He had, while Secretary of State, in 1703, brought 
Defoe to the Pillory. 

Then he went on with a torrent of ecliptics, cycles, 
epicycles, ascendants, trines, quadrants, conjunctions. Bulls, 
Bears, Goats, Rams, and abundance of hard words; which 
being put together, signified nothing. John, all this whih 
stood gaping and staring, like a man in a trance. 

FINIS 



JOHN BULL 

in his SENSES: 

BEING THE 

SECOND PART 

OF 

Law is a Bottomless Pit. 



F Tinted from a Manuscript found in the Cabinet 
of the famous Sir Humphry Poles worth. 



LONDON, 

Printed for John Morphew, near Stationers' 
Hall, I 7 I 2. Price 3d. 



^o7 




THE CONTENTS. 



Chap. I. Mrs. Bull's Vindication of the indispensable 
duty of ciickoldom [Resistance to Arbitrary 
Power] incumbent upon wives [Nations] in 
case of tyranny, infidelity, or insufficiency 
of husbands [Sovereigns] : being a full 
Answer to the Doctor's [Sacheverel] 
Sermon against Adultery [Resistance to 
Arbitrary Power] /'• 3^9 

II. The two great parties of Wives, the Devotoes 

[High Church] and the Hitts [Low Church] />. 3 1 1 

III. An account of the Conference between Mrs. 
Bull [Queen Anne] and Don Diego 

D/SM^LLO [Lord Nottingham] /»• 312 

The Articles of Agreement between John 

Bull and Nicholas Frog /»• 3^5 

Nicholas Frog's letter to Lewis Baboon, 
Master of the noble Science of Defence p. 3^6 



3o8 



The Contents. 



r T. Arbuthnot, M.D. 
LPait II. 18 Mar. 1712. 



Chap. IV. How the Guardians of the deceased Mrs. 
Bull's three daughters, came to John Bull, 
and what advice they gave him; whereiti is 
briefly treated the characters of the three 

daughters P- 3^^ 

Also John Bull's answer to the three 
Guardians p- 321 

V. Esquire South' s message and letter to Mrs. 

Bull p- 323 




309 



John Bull in his Senses. 



CHAPTER I . 

Mrs. Bull's Vindication of the indispensable duty of cuckol- 
dom [Resistance to Arbitrary Power] incumbent upon wives 
[Nations] in case of tyranny, infidelity, or insufficiency of 
husbands [Sovereigns] : being a fidl Answer to the Doctor's 
[Saciieverel] Sermon against Adultery [Resistance to Arbi- 
trary Power]. 




Ohn found daily fresh proofs of the infidehty 
and bad designs of his deceased wife. Amongst 
other things, one day, looking over his Cabi- 
net, he found the following paper : 

// is evident that Matrimony [Government 
in a State] is fmmded upon an Original Contract, 
whereby the wife makes over the Right she has 
by the Law of Nature, in favour of the husband, by which he 
acquires the property of all her posterity. But then the obliga- 
tion is mutual ; and where the Contract is broken on one side, 
it ceases to bind on the other. Where there is a Right, there must 
be a Power to maititain it, and to punish the offending party. 

This power, I affirm to be that Original Right, or rather that 
indispensable duty of cuckoldom [Resistance to Oppression and 
Arbitrary Power] lodged in all wives, in the cases above mentioned. 
No wife is bound [i. e., People to any Sovereign] by any law 
to which she herself has not consented. All ceconomical power 
is lodged originally in the husband and wife [Sovereign and 
People] ; the executive part being in the husband. Both have 
their privileges secured to them by law and reason : but will any 
man infer from the husband's being invested with the executive 
power, that the wife is deprived of her share, and that which is 
the principal branch of it, the original right of cuckoldom [Re- 



loA MARVELLOUS IrONYOF WhIG PRINCIPLES.[p{;/Vl!' 



Arbuthnot. 
1712. 



sistance to Arbitrary Power] ? and that she has no remedy left 
hut preces et lachrymse, or an appeal to a supreme Court of 
Judicature ? 

No less frivolous are the arguments drawn from the general appel- 
lations and terms of Husband and Wife [Sovereign and People]. 
A husband denotes several different sorts of Magistrates, according 
to the usages and customs of different climates and countries. In 
some Eastern nations, it signifies a Tyrant, with the absolute power 
of life and death. In Turkey, it denoteth an Arbitrary Governor, 
with power of perpetual imprisonment. In Italy, it gives the 
husband the power of poison and padlocks. In the countries of 
England, France, and Holland, it has quite a different meaning, 
implying a free and equal Government : securing to the wife, in 
certain cases, the liberty of cuckoldom [Resistance], and the 
property of pin money and separate maintenance. So that the 
arguments drawn from the terms of Husband and Wife are falla- 
cious, and by no means fit to support a tyrannical doctrine, as 
that of Absolute unlimited Chastity [Passive Obedience] and 
conjugal fidelity. 

The general exhortations to chastity in wives are meant only for 
rules in ordinary cases; but suppose the three conditions of Ability, 
Justice, and Fidelity in the Husband. Such an unlimited, un- 
conditioned fidelity in the Wife could never be supposed by reason- 
able men. It seems a reflection upon the Church, to charge her 
with doctrines that countenance oppression. 

The doctrine of the Original Right of cuckoldom is congruous to 
the Law of Nature, which is superior to all human laws; and for 
that, I dare appeal to all wives ! It is much to the honour of our 
English wives that they have never given up that Fundamental 
Point; and that, though in for^ner Ages they were muffled up in dark- 
ness and superstition, yet that notion seemed engravenon their minds, 
and the impression was so strong, that nothing could impair it. 

To assert the illegality of cuckoldom [Resistance], upon any pre- 
tence whatever, were to cast odious colours upon the married state, 
to blacken the necessary means of perpetuating families. Such 
laws can never be supposed to have been designed to defeat the very 
end of matrimony, the increase of mankind. I call them necessary 
means, for in many cases what other means are left ? Such a 
doctrine wounds the honour of families, unsettles the titles to king- 
doms, honours, and estates ; for if the actions from which such 
settlejncnts spring were illegalf all that is built upon them must be 



pJiiT'tulr^;?^^ High Church and Low Church. 311 

so too : but the last is absurd, therefore the first must be so like- 
wise. What is the cause that Europe groans, at present, under 
the heavy load of a cruel and expensive war ; but the tyrannical 
custom of a certain Nation [Spain] and the scrupidous nicety of 
a silly Queen; whereby the Kingdom might have had an heir, 
and a controverted succession might have been avoided ? These 
are the effects of the narrow maxims of your Clergy ^ *' That one 
must not do evil, that good may come of it.'" 

From all that has been said, one may clearly perceive the ab- 
surdity of the doctrine of the seditious, discontented, hotheaded, 
ungifted, unedifying Preacher [Doctor Sacheverel] asserting 
that " the grand security of the matrimonial state, and the pillar 
upon which it stands, is founded upon the wife's belief of an abso- 
lute unconditional fidelity to the husband.'" By which bold 
assertion he strikes at the root, digs the foundation, and removes 
the basis upon which the happiness of a married state is built. 

As for his personal reflections, I woidd gladly know, who are 
those Wanton Wives he speaks of 7 who are those Ladies of high 
stations that he so boldly traduces iji his Sermon ? It is pretty plain, 
whom these aspersions are aimed at ! for which he deserves the 
pillory, or something worse. 

In confirmation of this doctrine of the indispensable duty of 
cuckoldom [Resistance], I could bring the example of the wisest 
wives of all Ages ; who, by these means, have preserved their 
husbands'' families from ruin and oblivion : but what has been 
said, is a sufficient ground for punishing this pragmatical Parson. 



CHAPTER II. 

The two great parties of Wives, the Devotoes and the Hitts. 

He doctrine of unlimited chastity [non-resistance] and 
fidelity in wives, was universally espoused by all 
husbands [Sovereigns] ; who went about the country, 
and made the wives sign papers, signifying their 
utter detestation and abhorrence of Mrs. Bull's wicked 
doctrine of the indispensable duty of cuckoldom. Some 
yielded, others refused to part with their native liberty ; 
which gave rise to two great parties amongst the wives — the 
Devotoes [High Church], and the Hitts [Low Church] ; though 
it must be owned that the distinction was more nominal 




312 Talk OF Mrs. Bull and Don Dismallo. [pJ;.f^[l^"'';^°^. 

than real. For the Devotees would abuse freedoms some- 
times ; and those who were distinguished by the name of 
Hitts, were often very honest. 

At the same time, there was an ingenious treatise, that 
came out with the title of Good advice to husbands. In which 
they are counselled not to trust too much to their wives' 
owning the doctrine of unlimited conjugal fidelity, and so to 
neglect family duty, and a due watchfulness over the manners 
of their wives ; that the greatest security to husbands was a 
vigorous constitution, good usage of their wives, and keeping 
them from temptation : many husbands having been sufferers 
by their trusting too much to general professions ; as was 
exemplified in the case of a foolish and negligent husband 
[James II.], who, trusting to the efficacy of this principle, 
was undone by his wife's elopement from him [The Revohition 
of 1688]. 

CHAPTER III. 

An account of the Conference between Mrs. Bull and Don 
Diego Dismallo. 

Don Diego. |^^|S it possible. Cousin Bull ! that you 
can forget the honourable maxims of 
the Family you are come of, and break 
your word with three of the honestest, 
best-meaning persons in the world, Esquire South, Frog, 
and Hocus, that have sacrificed their Interest to yours ? It 
is base to take advantage of their simplicity and credulity, 
and leave them in the lurch at last ! 

Mrs. Bull. I am sure, they have left my Family in a bad con- 
dition. We have hardly money to go to market, and nobody 
will take our words for sixpence. A very fine spark, this 
Esquire South [Archduke Charles] ! My husband took him 
in, a dirty boy. It was the business of half the servants to 
attend to him, the rogue did bawl and make such a noise I 
Sometimes he fell into the fire, and burnt his face ; sometimes 
broke his shins clambering over the benches : and always 
came in so dirty, as if he had been dragged through the 
kennel at a boarding school. He lost his money at chuck-farth- 
ing, shuffle-cap, and all-fours ; sold his books, and pawned 
his linen, which we were always forced to redeem. Then the 




pLVt'^iL"i7i°2.] Hints that Holland mas thriven. 313 

whole generation of him are so in love with bagpipes and 
puppet-shows ! I wish you knew what my husband has paid 
at the pastrycooks and confectioners, for Naples biscuit, tarts, 
custards, and sweetmeats. All this while, my husband con- 
sidered him as a Gentleman of good family that had fallen 
into decay, gave him a good education, and has settled him 
in a good credible way of living ; having procured him, by his 
Interest, one of the best places in the country : and what 
return, think you ! does this fine Gentleman make us ? He 
will hardly give me or my husband, a good word or a civil ex- 
pression ! Instead of plain Sir, and Madam ; which (though 
I say it) is our due : he calls us Goody, and Gaffer such a one! 
that he did us a great deal of honour to board with us : huffs 
and dings at such a rate, because we did not spend the little 
we have left, to get him the title and estate of Lord Strutt; 
and then, forsooth ! we shall have the honour to be his 
woollen-drapers. 

Don Diego. And would you lose the honour of so noble 
and generous an undertaking ? Would you rather accept the 
scandalous Composition, and trust that old rogue Lewis 
Baboon ? 

Mrs. Bull. Look you, friend Diego ! if we law it on till 
Lewis turns honest, I am afraid our credit will run low at 
Blackwall Hall 1 I wish every man had his own ! but I still 
say, that Lord Strutt's money shines as bright, and chinks 
as well as Squire South's. I don't know any other hold that 
we Tradesmen have of these Great Folks, but their Interest. 
Buy dear, and sell cheap ! and, I'll warrant ye ! you will keep 
your customer. The worst is, that Lord Strutt's servants 
have got such a haunt about that old rogue's shop, that it 
will cost us many a firkin of strong beer to bring them back 
again : and the longer they are in a bad road, the harder it 
will be to get them out of it. 

Don Diego. But poor Frog ! what has he done ? On my 
conscience, if there be an honest, sincere man in the world, 
it is that Frog ! 

Mrs. Bull. I think, I need not tell you how much Frog 
has been obliged to our Family from his childhood. He 
carries his head high now, but he had never been the man he 
is, without our help. Ever since the commencement of this 
Lawsuit, it has been the business of Hocus, in sharing our 



314 Marlborough helping the Dutch. [par{'n!'^i8''Mar.'i7»: 

expenses, to plead for Frog. ** Poor Frog," says he, "is in 
hard circumstances. He has a numerous family and lives 
from hand to mouth ; his children do not eat a bit of good 
victuals from one year's end to the other ; but live on salt 
herrings, sour curd, and bore-cole. He does his utmost, 
poor fellow ! to keep things even in the world, and has exerted 
himself beyond his ability in this Lawsuit : but he really has 
not wherewithal to go on. What signifies this hundred 
pounds ? place it upon your side of the account ! It is a 
great deal for poor Frog, and a trifle for you." 

That has been Hocus's constant language, and I am sure 
he has had obligations enough to us, to have acted another 
part. 

Don Diego. No doubt Hocus meant all this for the best ; 
but he is a tender-hearted charitable man. Frog is indeed 
in hard circumstances. 

Mrs. Bull. Hard circumstances ! I swear this is provok- 
ing to the last degree. All the time of the Lawsuit, as fast as 
we have mortgaged. Frog has purchased. From a plain 
tradesman, with a shop, warehouse, and a country hut with 
a dirty fishpond at the end of it, he is now grown a very rich 
Country Gentleman, with a noble landed estate, noble palaces, 
manors, parks, gardens, and farms finer than any we were 
ever master of. Is it not strange, when my husband disbursed 
great sums every Term, Frog should be purchasing some 
new farm or manor ? So that if this Lawsuit lasts, he will 
be far the richest man in his country. 

What is worse than all this, he steals away my customers 
every day. 1 have twelve of the richest and the best that 
have left my shop by his persuasion, and whom to my know- 
ledge, he has under bonds never to return again. Judge you, 
if this be neighbourly dealing ! 

Don Diego. Frog is indeed pretty close in his dealings, 
but very honest ! You are so touchy and take things so 
hotly; I am sure there must be some mistake in this ! 

Mrs. Bull. A plaguy one indeed ! You know, and you 
have often told me, how Hocus and those rogues kept my 
husband, John Bull, drunk for five years together, with 
punch and strong waters (I am sure he never went one 
night sober to bed), till they got him to sign the strangest 
deed that ever you saw in your life. The methods they took 



Pa/ti1:'xte'/;P.:] Parody of The Barrier Treaty. 315 

to manage him, I'll tell you another time; at present, I only 
read the writing \the Barrier Treaty], 

Articles of Agreement between John Bull, Clothier, 
and Nicholas Frog, Line^idraper. 

I. That for maintaining the ancient good correspondence and 
friendship between the said parties, I, Nicholas Frog, do 
solemnly engage and promise to keep peace in John Bull's 
family : that neither his wife, children, nor servants give him any 
trouble, disturbance, or molestation whatever; but to oblige them 
all, to do their duty quietly in their respective stations. And 
whereas the said John Bull, from the assured confidence that 
he has in my friendship, has appointed me Executor of his last 
Will and Testament, and Guardian to his children ; I do under- 
take for me, my heirs and assigns, to see the same dtdy executed 
and performed, and that it shall be unalterable in all its parts, by 
John Bull or anybody else. For that purpose, it shall be law- 
fid and allowable for me to enter his house at any hour of the day 
or night, to break open bars, bolts, and doors, chests of drawers and 
strong boxes, in order to secure the peace of my friend John 
Bull's family, and to see his Will duly executed. 

II. In consideration of which kind neighbourly office of 
Nicholas Frog, in that he has been pleased to accept of the 
aforesaid Trust, I, John Bull, having dtdy considered that my 
friend NICHOLAS Frog at this time lives in a marshy soil and 
tmwholesome air, infested with fogs and damps, destructive of the 
health of himself, wife, and children, do bind and oblige me, my 
heirs and assigns, to purchase for the said Nicholas Frog, 
with the best and readiest of my cash, bonds, mortgages, goods and 
chattels, a landed estate, with parks, gardens, palaces, rivers, fields, 
and outlets, consisting of as large extent as the said Nicholas 
Frog shall think fit. And whereas the said Nicholas Frog 
is at present hemmed in too closely by the grounds of Lewis 
Baboon, Master of the Science of Defence; I, the said John 
Bull, do oblige myself, with the readiest of my cash, to purchase 
and enclose the said grounds for as many fields and acres as the 
said Nicholas shall think fit; to the extent that the said 
Nicholas may have free egress and regress, without let or 
molestation, suitable to the demands of himself and family. 



3 1 6 Suggestions as to Dutch treachery. [J- ^"iT ^4',^: 

III. Furthermore, the said John Bull obliges himself to 
make the country neighbours of Nicholas Frog allot a certain 
part of yearly rents to pay for the repairs of the said landed estate, 
to the intent that his good friend Nicholas Frog may be eased 
of all charges. 

IV. And whereas the said Nicholas Frog did contract with 
the deceased Lord Strutt about certain liberties, privileges, and 
immunities, formerly in the possession of the said John Bull ; I, 
the said John Bull, do freely, by these Presents, renounce, quit, 
and make over to the said Nicholas, the liberties, privileges, and 
immunities contracted for , as if they never had belonged to me. 

V. The said John Bull obliges himself, his heirs and assigns, 
not to sell one rag of broad or coarse cloth to any gentleman within 
the neighbourhood of the said Nicholas, except in such quantities 
and such rates as the said NICHOLAS shall think fit. 

Signed and sealed, 

John Bull, 
N I c . Frog. 

The reading of this paper put Mrs. Bull in such a passion 
that she fell down right into a fit, and they were forced to 
give her a good quantity of the Spirits of Hartshorn before 
she recovered. 

Don Diego. Why in such a passion, Cousin ? Con- 
sidering your circumstances at that time, I don't think such 
an unreasonable contract. You see Frog, for all this, is 
religiously true to his bargain ! He scorns to hearken to any 
competition without your privacy. 

Mrs. Bull. You know the contrary, read that letter I 

(Reads the superscription.) For Lewis Baboon, Master of 
the noble Science of Defence. 

Sir, 

Understand that you are, at this time, treating with 
my friend John Bull, about the restoring of the Lord 
Strutt's custom; and besides allowing him certain 
privileges of parks and fishponds. I wonder how you, 
that are a man that knows the World, can talk with that simple 
fellow I He has been my bubble [toolj these twenty years ; and to 




p^J^'^] Nottingham offended at Harley's power, 3 1 7 

my certain knowledge, understands no more of his own Affairs than 
a child in swaddling clothes. I know he has got a sort of a 
pragmatical silly jade of a wife that pretends to take him out of 
my hands ; but you and she both will find yourselves mistaken. 
Ill find those that shall manage her ! and for him, he dares as 
well be hanged as make one step in his Affairs without my consent. 
If you will give me what you promised him, I will make all 
things easy, and stop the Deeds of Ejectment against Lord Str UTT ; 
if you will not, take what follows! I shall have a good Action 
against you, for pretending '.designing] to rob me of my bubble. 
Take this warning from 

Your loving friend, 

Nicholas Frog. 

I am told, Cousin Diego ! you are one of those that have 
undertaken to govern me, and that you have said, you will 
carry a green bag yourself rather than we shall make an end 
of our Lawsuit. I'll teach them, and you too, to manage ! 

Don Diego. For God's sake. Madam ! why so choleric ! 
I say, this letter is some forgery ! It never entered into the 
head of that honest man, Nic. Frog, to do any such thing ! 

Mrs. BulL I can't abide you ! You have been railing, 
these twenty years, at Esquire South, Frog, and Hocus ; 
calling them rogues and pickpockets : and, now, they are 
turned the honestest fellows in the world ! What is the 
meaning of all this ? 

Don Diego. Pray tell me, how you came to employ this 
Sir Roger m your Affairs, and not think of your old friend 
Diego ? 

Mrs. Bull. So, so, there it pinches ! To tell you the 
truth, I have employed Sir Roger in several weighty affairs, 
and have found him trusty and honest ; and the poor man 
always scorned to take a farthing of me. I have abundance 
that profess great zeal, but they are greedy of the pence. My 
husband and I are now in circumstances, that we must be 
served upon cheaper terms than we have been. 

Don Diego. Well, Cousin, I find I can do no good with 
you ! I am sorry that you will ruin yourself, by trusting this 
Sir Roger. 




3i8 Descriptions OF War and Discord. [pJtn'^ite.^;i^: 

CHAPTER IV. 

How the Guardians of the deceased Mrs. Bull's three 
daughters, came to John Bull, and what advice they gave him; 
wherein is briefly treated the characters of the three daughters. 
Also John Bull's attswer to the three Guardians. 

Told you in my First Part [p. 285], that Mrs. 
Bull, before she departed this life, had blessed John 
with three daughters. I need not repeat their 
names; neither would willingly use any scandalous 
reflections upon young ladies, whose reputations ought to be 
very tenderly handled : but the characters of these were so 
welj known in the neighbourhood, that it is doing them 
no injury to make a short description of them. 

The eldest [War] was as termagant, imperious, prodigal, 
lewd, profligate wench as ever breathed. She used to ranti- 
pole about the house, pinch the kitten, kick the servants, 
and torture the cats and dogs. She would rob her father's 
strong-box for money to give the young fellows she was fond 
of. She had a noble air, and something great in her mien ; 
but such a noisome infectious breath, as threw all the ser- 
vants that dressed her into consumption. If she smelt the 
fresh nosegay, it would shrivel and wither as it had been 
blighted. She used to come home in her cups, and break the 
china and the looking-glasses ; was of such an irregular 
temper, and so entirely given to her passion, that you might 
as well argue with the North Wind as with her Ladyship ; 
and so expensive, that the income of three Dukedoms was not 
enough to supply her extravagance. Hocus loved her best. 
The second daughter [Discord], born a year after her 
sister, was a peevish, froward, ill-conditioned creature as 
ever was born, ugly as the Devil; lean, haggard, pale; 
with saucer eyes, a sharp nose, and hunchbacked : but 
active, sprightly, and diligent about her affairs. Her ill 
complexion was occasioned by her bad diet, which was 
coffee, morning, noon, and night [i.e., Discord fed on the con- 
troversies in the Coffeehouses]. She never rested quietly a- 
jjed, but used to disturb the whole family with shrieking out 
in her dreams ; and plague them, next day, with interpreting 
them : for she took them all for Gospel ! She would cry out 



pLfii."'i"°2:] Description of High Rate of Interest. 319 

"Murder!" and disturb the whole neighbourhood; and 
when John came running downstairs to inquire what the 
matter was, " Nothing," forsooth ! " only her maid had 
stuck a pin wrong in her gown." 

She turned away one servant for putting too much oil in 
her salad, and another for putting too little salt in her water- 
gruel. But such as, by flattery, had procured her esteem, 
she would indulge in the greatest crimes. Her father had 
two coachmen [Prime Ministers]. When one [Harley] was 
on the coach-box, if the coach swung but the least to one 
side, she used to shriek so loud that all the street concluded 
she was overturned : but, though the other [Godolphix] was 
eternally drunk, and had overturned the whole Family, she 
was very angry with her father for turning him away. 

Then she used to carry tales and stories from one to 
another, till she had set the whole neighbourhood together 
by the ears ; and this was the only diversion she took pleasure 
in. She never went abroad but what she brought home such 
a bundle of monstrous lies, as would have amazed any 
mortal but such as knew her; of " a whale that had swal- 
lowed a fleet of ships" ; of "the lions being let out of the 
Tower, to destroy the Protestant religion"; of " the Pope's 
being seen in a brandy shop at Wapping " ; and a " pro- 
digious strong man that was going to shove down the cupola 
of St. Paul's "; of *' three millions of Five Pound pieces that 
Esquire South had found under an old wall " ; of " blazing 
stars," " flying dragons," and abundance of such stuff. 

All the servants in the Family made high court to her, 
for she domineered there ; and turned out and in, whom 
she pleased. Only there was an old grudge between her 
and Sir Roger : whom she mortally hated, and used to 
hire fellows to squirt kennel water upon him, as he passed 
along the streets ; so that he was forced constantly to 
wear a surtout of oiled cloth, by which means he came home 
pretty clean, except where the surtout was a little scanty. 

As for the third [USURY], she was a thief and a common 
mercenary prostitute. In the practice of her profession, she 
had amassed vast magazines of all sorts of things. She had 
above five hundred suits of clothes ; and yet went abroad 
like a cinder-wench. She robbed and starved all the servants, 
so that nobody could live near her. 



320 Satire ON Marlborough's love of money, [patt'ii.'iy^a; 

So much for John's three daughters; which you will say 
were rarities to be fond of. Yet Nature will shew itself! 
Nobody could blame their Relations for taking care of them ; 
and therefore it was that Hocus, with two other of the 
Guardians, thought it their duty to take care of the Interest 
of the three girls, and give John their best advice before 
he compounded the Lawsuit. 

Hocus. What makes you so shy of late, my good friend ? 
There is nobody loves you better than I, nor has taken more 
pains in your affairs I As I hoped to be saved ! I would do 
anything to serve you ! I would crawl upon all fours to serve 
you ! I have spent my health and paternal estate in your 
service ! I have indeed a small pittance left, with which 
I might retire, and with as good conscience as any man. 
But the thoughts of this disgraceful Composition so touches 
me to the quick, that I cannot sleep. After I had brought 
the Cause to the last stroke, that one verdict more had quite 
ruined old Lewis and Lord Strutt, and put you in the quiet 
possession of everything : then to Compound ! I cannot bear it. 

This Cause was my favourite. I had set my heart upon 
it ! It is like an only child, I cannot endure that it 
should miscarry. For God's sake, consider only to what 
a dismal condition old Lewis is brought ! He is at an end 
of all his cash ; his Attorneys [Generals] have hardly one 
trick left, they are at an end of all their chicane : besides, 
he has both his law and his daily bread now upon trust. 
Hold out one Term longer ! and, I'll warrant you ! before 
the next, we shall have him in the Fleet. I'll bring him to 
the pillory! his ears shall pay for his perjuries! For the 
love of God, don't compound ! Let me be hanged, if you 
have a friend in the World that loves you better than I ! there 
is nobody can say I am covetous! or that I have any Interest 
to pursue, but yours ! 

Second Guardian [Lord Godolphin, the late Lord 
Treasurer]. There is nothing so plain than that this Lewis 
has a design to ruin all his neighbouring Tradesmen ; and at 
this time, he has such a prodigious income by his trade of 
all kinds, that if there is not some stop put to his exorbitant 
riches, he will monopolize everything, and nobody will be 
able to sell a yard of drapery or mercery ware but himself. 



PanlfxyS Praise FOR Marlborough's Generalship. 321 

I therefore hold it advisable that you continue the Lawsuit, 
and burst him at once. My concern for the three poor 
motherless children obliges me to give you this advice ; for their 
estates, poor girls ! depend upon the success of this Cause. 

Third Guardian [Lord Cowper, the late Lord Chancellor]. 
I own this Writ of Ejectment has cost dear ; but then 
consider it a jewel well worth the purchasing at the price of 
all you have. None but Mr. Bull's declared enemies can 
say, he has any other security for his clothing trade but the 
ejectment of Lord Strutt. The only question then, that 
remains to be decided, is, Who shall stand the expenses of the 
Suit ? To which the answer is plain. Who but he that is to 
have the advantage of the sentence ! When Esquire South 
has got possession of his title and honour, is not John Bull 
to be his Clothier ? Who then but John, ought to put him 
in possession 1 Ask but an indifferent Gentleman, who ought 
to bear his charges at Law ? and he will readily answer, 
" His tradesmen ! " I do therefore affirm, and I will go to 
death with it ! that being his Clothier ; you ought to put him 
in quiet possession of his estate ! and with the same generous 
spirit you have begun it, complete the good work ! If you 
persist in the bad measures you are now in, what must become 
of the three poor orphans ? my heart bleeds for the poor girls 1 

John BulL You are very eloquent persons, but give me 
leave to tell you, that you express a great deal more con- 
cern for the three girls than for me. I think my Interest 
ought to be considered in the first place. 

As for you, Hocus ! I can't but say you have managed 
my Lawsuit with great address and much to my honour : and, 
though I say it ! you have been well paid for it ! Never 
was Attorney's bill more extravagant ! and, give me leave to 
say, there are many articles [in it], which the most griping 
of your profession never demanded. I have trusted you 
with the disbursing of great sums of money, and you have 
constantly sunk some into your own pocket. I tell you, I 
don't like that sinking! 

Why must the burden be taken off Frog's back, and laid 
upon my shoulders ? He can drive about his own parks 
and fields in his gilt chariot ; when I have been forced to 
mortgage my estate ! His Note will go further than my 

X 3 



32 2 John Bull's reply to the Guardians. [parfS."*^",. 

Bond. Is it not matter of fact, that from the richest trades- 
man in all the country, I am reduced to beg and borrow from 
Scriveners and Usurers [The National Debt], that suck the 
heart and blood out of me : and what was all this for ? Did 
you like Frog's countenance better than mine ? Was not I 
your old friend and relation ? Have I not presented you 
nobly ? Have I not clad your whole family ? Have you 
not had a hundred yards at a time of the finest cloth in my 
shop ? Why must the rest of the Tradesmen be not only 
indemnified from charges, but forbidden to go on with their 
own business, and what is more their concern than mine ? 

As to holding out this Term, I appeal to your own con- 
science, has not that been your constant discourse these siy 
years, " One Term more, andold Lewis goes to pot ! " If thou 
art so fond of my Cause, be generous for once ! and lend me 
a brace of thousands. Ah Hocus ! Hocus ! I know thee ! 
Not a sou, to save me from gaol, I trow ! 

Look ye, Gentlemen ! I have lived with credit in the World ; 
and it grieves my heart, never to stir out of my doors, but to 
be pulled by the sleeve, by some rascally dun or another, 
" Sir, remember my bill ! " " There is a small concern of a 
thousand pounds; I hope you think on it. Sir! " And to have 
these usurers transact [sell and buy] my debts at coffeehouses 
and alehouses ; as if I were going to break up shop. Lord ! 
that ever the rich, the generous John Bull, Clothier, the 
envy of all his neighbours, should be brought to compound 
his debts for five shillings in the pound ; and to have his 
name in an advertisement for a statute of Bankrupt ! The 
thought of it makes me mad I I have read somewhere in the 
Apocrypha, that one should not consult with a woman, touching 
her of whom she is jealous ; nor with a merchant, concerning 
exchange ; nor with a buyer, of selling ; nor with an unmerciful 
man, of kindness ; &c. I could have added one thing more. 
Nor with an Attorney, about compounding a Lawsuit. 

ThisEjectment of Lord Strutt will never do ! The evidence 
is crimp [concocted] ; the witnesses swear backwards and 
forwards, and contradict themselves ; and his tenants [the 
people of Spain] stick by him. If it were practicable, is it 
reasonable that when Esquire South is losing his money to 
sharpers and pickpockets, going about the country with fid- 
dlers and buffoons, and squandering his income with hawks 



Parfn""^""'] ^^URTEOUS ALLUSION TO PrINCE EuGENE. 323 

and dogs, I should lay out the fruits of my honest industry 
in a Lawsuit for him,only upon the hopesof being hisClothier? 
and when the Cause is over, I shall not have the benefit ot 
my project for want of money to go to market ! 

Look ye, Gentlemen ! John Bull is but a plain man ; but 
John Bull knows when he is ill used. I know the infirmity 
of our Family ! We are apt to play the boon companion ; and 
throw away our money in our cups. But it was an unfair 
thing in you, Gentlemen ! to take advantage of my weakness; 
to keep a parcel of roaring bullies about me, day and 
night, with huzzas and hunting horns, and ringing the 
changes on butchers' cleavers ! never to let me cool ! and 
make me set my hands to papers, when I could hardly hold 
my pen ! There will come a Day of Reckoning for all that 
proceeding. 

In the mean time. Gentlemen ! I beg you will let me look 
into my affairs a little, and that you would not grudge me 
a very small remainder of a very great estate ! 



CHAPTER V. 

Esquire South's message and letter to Mrs. Bull. 

He arguments used by Hocus and the rest of the 
Guardians had hitherto proved insufficient. John 
and his wife could not be persuaded to bear the ex- 
pense of Esquire South's Lawsuit. They thought 
it reasonable that, since he was to have the honour and 
advantage, he should bear the greatest share of the charges ; 
and retrench what he lost to sharpers, and spent upon country 
dances and puppet-plays, to apply it to that use. This was 
not very grateful [agreeable] to the Esquire [here standing for 
the Emperor of AUSTRIA, the father of Archdtcke Charles]. 

Therefore, as the last experiment, he was resolved to send 
Signior Bene-nato, Master of his Foxhounds [Prince 
Eugene of Savoy, who came to England on this political mission 
to Queen Anne, in Jan.-March, 171 ij to Mrs. Bull, to try what 
good he could do with her. 

This Signior Bene-nato had all the qualities of a fine 
Gentleman, that were fit to charm a lady's heart ; and if any 
person in the world could have persuaded her, it was he I 



m 



324 Failure of Prince Eugene's Mission. [p{,tn. 



r J. Arbutlinot. 



1713. 




But such was her unshaken fideHty to her husband, and the 
constant purpose of her mind to pursue his Interest, that the 
most refined arts of gallantry that were practised could not 
seduce her loyal heart. The necklaces, diamond crosses, 
and rich bracelets that were offered; she rejected with the 
utmost scorn and disdain. The music and serenades that 
were given her, sounded more ungratefully in her ears than 
the noise of a screech owl. However, she received Esquire 
South's letter by the hands of Signior Bene-nato, with that 
respect which became his Quality. 

The copy of the letter is as follows ; in which you will 
observe, he changes a little his usual style. 

DAM, 

He Writ of Ejectment against Philip Baboon pre- 
tended Lord Strutt, is just ready to pass. There 
want hilt a few necessary forms, and a Verdict 
[victory] or two more, to put me in the quiet posses- 
sion of my Honour and Estate. I question not but that, according 
to your wonted generosity and goodness, you will give it the 
finishing stroke : an honour that I would grudge anybody but 
yourself. 

In order to ease you of some part of the charges, I promise to 
furnish pen, ink, and paper ; provided you pay for the stamps. 
Besides, I have ordered my Steward to pay, out of the readiest and 
best of my rents, £^ los. a year, till my Suit is finished. I wish 
you health and happiness, being 

With due respect, 
Madam, 

Your assured friend. 

So UTH . 

What answer Mrs. Bull returned to this letter, you shall 
know in my Third Part : only they were at a pretty good 
distance in their Proposals. For as Esquire South only offered 
to be at the charges of pen, ink, and paper ; Mrs. Bull re- 
fused any more than to lend her barge to carry his Counsel 
to Westminster Hall [the English fleets transporting the forces 
to Barcelona], 

FINIS. 



JOHN BULL 

Still 

In his SENSES: 

BEING THE 

THIRD PART 

O F 

Law isaBottomlessPit. 



Printed fro7ii a Manuscript found in the Cabinet 
of the famous Sir Humphry Poles wor tii : 
and published fas well as the two former Parts J 
by the Author of the New Atlantis. 



LONDON: 
Printed for John Morphew, near Stationers' 
Hall, 17 12. Price 6d. 



327 



THE CONTENTS. 



The Publisher's Preface p. 328 

Chap. I. The Character of John Bull's mother ... p. 329 

II. The Character of John Bull's sister Peg, 
with the quarrels that happened between Master 
and Miss in their childhood p. 331 

III. Jack's Charms, or the method by which he 
gained Peg's heart p. 333 

IV. How the Relations reconciled John and his 
sister PEG ; and what return Peg made to 
John's message , p, 335 

V. Of some quarrels that happened after Peg was 

taken into the Family p. 338 

VI. The Conversation between John Bull and 

his wife p. 34^ 

VII. Of the hard shifts Mrs. Bull was put to, to 
preserve the Manor of Bullock's Hatch ; with 
Sir Roger's method of keeping off importu- 
nate duns p- 344 

VIII. A continuation of the Conversation betwixt 

John Bull and his wife p- 34^ 

IX. A copy of Nicholas Frog's letter to John 

Bull P- 352 

X. Of some extraordinary things that passed at 
the Salutation tavern, in the Conference be- 
tween Bull, Frog, Esquire South, and 
Lewis Baboon P- 355 



328 




The Publisher s Preface, 

He World is much indebted to the famous Sir 
Humphry Polesworth, for his ingenious and 
impartial Account of John Bull's Lawsuit ; yet 
there is just cause of complaint against him, in 
that he retails it only by parcels, and won't give us the whole 
Work. This forces me, who am only the Publisher, to be- 
speak the assistance of his friends and acquaintance, to 
engage him to lay aside that stingy humour, and to gratify 
the curiosity of the public at once. He pleads in excuse, that 
" they are only Private Memoirs, written for his own use, in 
a loose style, to serve as a help to his ordinary conversation." 
I represented to him the good reception of the two first 
Parts had met [with], that though they had been calculated 
by him only for the meridian of Grub street, yet they were 
taken notice of by the better sort ; that the World was now 
sufficiently acquainted with John Bull, and interested in 
his little concerns. He answered with a smile, that " he 
had, indeed, some trifling things to impart that concerned 
John Bull's Relations and domestic affairs : if these would 
satisfy me, he gave me free leave to make use of them ! 
because they would serve to make the History of the Lawsuit 
more intelligible." 

When I had looked over the manuscript, I found likewise 
some further account of the Composition ; which perhaps may 
not be unacceptable to such as have read the two former 
Parts. 




1^ 



329 




CHAPTER I. 

The Character of John Bull's mother. 




|Ohn had a mother [the Church of England] 
whom he loved and honoured extremely ; 
a discreet, grave, sober, good-conditioned, 
cleanly old Gentlewoman as ever lived. 
She was none of your cross-grained, terma- 
gant scolding Jades that one had as good 
be hanged, as live in the house with ! such 
as are always censuring the conduct, and 
telling scandalous stories, of their neighbours ; extolling their 
own good qualities, and undervaluing those of others. On 
the contrary, she was of a meek spirit : and as she was 
strictly virtuous herself, so she always put the best construc- 
tion upon the words and actions of her neighbours ; except 
where they were irreconcilable to the rules of honesty and 
decency. She was neither one of your precise prudes, nor 
one of your phantastical old belles that dress themselves like 
girls of fifteen : as she neither wore a ruff, forehead cloth, 
nor high-crowned hat, so she had laid aside feathers, flowers, 
and crimpt ribbons in her head-dress, furbelow [flounce], 
scarfs, and hooped petticoats. She scorned to patch [wear 
black spots on the face] and paint ; yet she loved to keep her 
hands and her face clean. Though she wore no flaunting laced 
ruffles, she would not keep herself in a constant sweat with 
greasy flannel. Though her hair was not stuck with jewels, 
she was not ashamed of a diamond cross. She was not, like 
some ladies, hung about with toys and trinkets, twiser 



330 Middle position of Church of England. [l>JiuTX°^2. 

[tweezer] cases, pocket-glasses, and essence-bottles ! she used 
only a gold watch, and an Almanack to mark the hours and 
the Holy Days. 

Her furniture was neat and genteel, well fancied with a bon 
gotit. As she affected not the grandeur of a State with a 
canopy, she thought there was no offence in an elbow-chair. 
She had laid aside your carving, gilding, and Japan [japanned] 
work, as being too apt to gather dirt : but she never could 
be prevailed upon to part with plain wainscot and clean 
hangings. There are some ladies who aifect to smell a stink 
in everything; they are always highly perfumed, and con- 
tinually burning frankincense in their rooms [Roman Catholic 
worship] : she was above such affectation ; yet she never 
would lay aside the use of brooms and scrubbing brushes, 
and scrupled not to lay her linen in fresh lavender. 

She was no less genteel in her behaviour, well bred with- 
out affectation ; in the due mean between one of your affected 
curtseying pieces of formality [Nonconformity], and your romps 
that have no regard to the common rules of civility. There 
are some ladies that affect a mighty regard for their relations. 
"We must not eat to-day, for my uncle Tom or my cousin 
Betty died this time ten years! [Saints Days]." "Let us 
have a ball to-night, it is my neighbour Such-a-one's birth- 
day 1 " She looked upon all this as a grimace [mask], yet 
she constantly observed her Husband's birthday [Christmas 
Day], her wedding day [? Whitsunday], and some few more. 

Though she was a truly good woman, and had a sincere 
motherly love for her son John ; yet there wanted not those 
who endeavoured to create a misunderstanding between 
them : and they had so far prevailed with him once [in the 
time of the Commonwealth] that he had turned her out of doors 
[exclusion of the Episcopacy from the House of Lords in 1644] ; to 
his great sorrow, as he found afterwards, for his affairs went 
all at sixes and sevens. 

She was no less judicious in the turn of her conversation, 
and choice of her studies, in which she far exceeded all her 
■^ex [all other Churches], Your rakes that hate the company of 
all sober grave Gentlewomen, would bear hers: and she would, 
by her handsome manner of proceeding, sooner reclaim, than 
some that were more sour and reserved [Nonconformists]. She 
was a zealous preacher up of Chastity and Conjugal Fidelity 



pLuil'x"!!] a portrait [!] OF THE KiRK OF SCOTLAND. ^3 I 

in wives [obedience and submission to the King] ; and by no 
means a friend to the new-fangled doctrine of the '* Indis- 
pensable Duty of Cuckoldom " [Resistance to Arbitrary 
Power], Though she advanced her opinions with a becoming 
assurance ; yet she never ushered them in, as some positive 
creatures do, with dogmatic assertions, '* This is infallible ! " 
" I cannot be mistaken 1 " " None but a rogue can deny it ! " 
It has been observed, that such people are oftener in the 
wrong than anybody. 

Though she had a thousand good qualities, she was not 
without her faults : amongst which, one might perhaps reckon 
too great lenity to her servants ; to whom she always gave 
good counsel, but often too gentle correction. 

I thought I could not say less of John Bull's mother, 
because she bears a part in the following transactions. 



CHAPTER II. 

The Character of John Bull's sister Peg, with the quarrels 
that happened between Master and Miss in their childhood. 

|Ohn has a sister [the Kirk of Scotland], a poor girl 
that had been starved at nurse. Anybody would 
have guessed Miss to have been bred up under the 
influence of a cruel step-dame, and John to be the 
fondling of a tender mother. John looked ruddy and plump, 
with a pair of cheeks like a trumpeter; Miss looked pale and 
wan, as if she had the green sickness : and, no wonder, for 
John was the darling ! He had all the good bits, was cram- 
med with good pullet, chicken, pig, goose, and capon : while 
Miss had only a little oatmeal and water, or a dry crust 
without butter. John had his golden pippins, peaches, and 
nectarines; poor Miss a crab apple, sloe, or a blackberry. 
Master lay in the best apartment, with his bedchamber 
[England] towards the south sun : Miss lodged in a garret 
[Scotland], exposed to the north wind, which shrivelled her 
countenance. However this usage, though it stunted the 
girl in her growth, gave her a hardy constitution. 

She had life and spirit in abundance, and knew when she 




332 Dissenting charms for a State Kirk, [p/nm 



Arbuthnot. 
1712. 



was ill used. Now and then, she would seize upon John's 
commons, snatch a leg of a pullet or a bit of good beef: for 
which they were sure to go to fisticuffs. Master was indeed 
too strong for her, but Miss would not yield in the least 
point ; but even when Master had got her down, she would 
scratch and bite like a tiger. When he gave her a cuff on 
the ear, she would prick him with her knitting needle. John 
brought a great chain, one day, to tie her to the bed-post : 
for which affront. Miss aimed a penknife at his heart. In 
short, these quarrels grew up to rooted aversions. They gave 
one another nicknames. She called him " Gundy-guts ! " 
and he called her " Lousy Peg ! " 

Though the girl was a tight clever wench, as any was : 
and, through her pale looks, you might discern spirit and 
vivacity, which made her, not indeed a perfect beauty, but 
something that was agreeable. 

It was barbarous in parents, not to take notice of these 
early quarrels, and make them live better together : such 
domestic feuds proving afterwards the occasions of misfor- 
tunes to them both. 

Peg had indeed some odd humours and comical antipathy; 
for which John would jeer her. " What do you think of my 
sister Peg," says he, " that faints at the sound of an organ ! 
and yet will dance and frisk at the noise of a bagpipe ? " 

"What is that to you, Gundy-guts!" quoth Peg, 
" everybody is to choose their own music ! " 

Then Peg had taken a fancy, not to say her Paternoster ; 
which made people imagine strange things of her. 

Of the three brothers that have made such a clutter in the 
world, Lord Peter, Martin, and Jack [the names by -which 
Swift in his Tale of a Tub distinguished the Roman Catholics, 
the Church of England, and the Fanatics (Dissenters)], Jack had, 
of late, been her inclination. Lord Peter she detested, nor 
did Martin stand much better in her good graces ; but Jack 
had found the way to her heart. I have often admired 
[wondered] what charms she discovered in that awkward 
booby ! till I talked with a person that was acquainted with 
the intrigue, who gave me the following account of it. 




Pan in.^xfCii^7iy -^ PARODY OF Presbyterian manners. ^-^^ 

CHAPTER III. 

Jack's Charms, or the method by which he gained Peg's heart. 

N THE first place, Jack [the Fanatics (Dissenters)] was 

a very young fellow, by much the youngest of the 

three brothers ; and people indeed wondered how 

such a young upstart jackanapes [puppy] should 

grow so pert and saucy, and take so much upon him. 

2. Jack bragged of greater abilities than other men. He 
was well gifted ! as he pretended. I need not tell you, what 
secret influence that has upon the ladies. 

3. Jack had a most scandalous tongue, and persuaded Peg 
that all mankind besides himself was diseased by that scar- 
let-faced whore, Signiora Bubonia [the Pope]. "As for his 
brother, Lord Peter ; the tokens were evident in him, 
blotches, scabs, and the corona [the tonsure] ! His brother 
Martin, though he was not quite so bad, had some nocturnal 
pains ; which his friends pretended were only scorbutical, 
but he was sure proceeded from a worse cause." 

By such malicious insinuations, he had possessed [persuaded] 
the lady, that he was the only man in the world of a sound 
pure and untainted Constitution ; though there were some 
that stuck not to say, that Signiora Bubonia and Jack railed 
at one another, only the better to hide an intrigue ; and that 
Jack had been found with Signiora under his cloak, carrying 
her home in a dark stormy night. 

4. Jack was a prodigious ogler. He would ogle you the 
outside of his eye inward, and the white upward ! 

5. Jack gave himself out for a man of great estate in the 
Fortunate Islands [Heaven], of which the sole property was 
vested in his person. By this trick, he cheated abundance 
of poor people of small sums, pretending to make over plan- 
tations in the said Islands : but when the poor wretches 
came there with Jack's Grant, they were beaten, mocked, 
and turned out of doors. 

6. I told you that Peg was whimsical, and loved anything 
that was particular [peculiar]. In that way, Jack was her 
man ! for he neither thought, spoke, dressed, nor acted like 
other mortals. He was for your '* bold strokes " ! He railed 



334 A Churchman mocking at the Kirk. [partoKyi^*: 

at fops, though himself the most affected in the World ; in- 
stead of the common fashion, he would visit his mistress in a 
mourning cloak, band, short cuffs, and a peaked beard. He in- 
vented a way of coming into a room backwards, which he said 
" shewed more humility and less affectation." Where other 
people stood, he sat [in singing] ; where they sat, he stood [in 
prayer]. When he went to Court, he used to kick away the 
State, and sit down by his Prince, cheek by jowl. " Confound 
these States," says he, " they are a modern invention ! " 

When he spoke to his Prince, he always turned his back 
upon him. If he were advised to fast for his health, he 
would eat roast beef. If he was allowed a more plentiful 
diet ; then he would be sure, that day ! to live upon water- 
gruel. He would cry at a wedding, and laugh and make 
jests at a funeral. 

He was no less singular in his opinions. You would have 
burst your sides, to hear him talk politics. ** All Government," 
says he, " is founded upon the right distribution of punish- 
ments ; decent executions keep the world in awe : for that 
reason, the majority of mankind ought to be hanged every 
year ! For example, I suppose the Magistrate ought to pass 
an irreversible sentence upon all blue-eyed children from the 
cradle [Predestination] : but that there may be some shew of 
justice in this proceeding, these children ought to be trained 
up by masters appointed for that purpose, to all sorts of vil- 
lainy, that they may deserve their fate; and the execution of 
them may serve as an object of terror to the rest of mankind." 

As to giving pardons, he has this singular method : 

That when the wretches had the ropes about their necks, 
it should be inquired [of them] Who believed they should be 
hanged ? and Who not ? The first were to be pardoned, the 
latter hanged outright. Such as were once pardoned, were 
never to be hanged afterwards, for any crime whatever. 

He had such skill in physiognomy, that he would pro- 
nounce, peremptorily, upon a man's face. " That fellow," 
says he, " do what he will, cannot avoid hanging! He has 
a hanging look ! " By the same Art, he would prognosticate 
a Principality to a scoundrel. 

He was no less particular in the choice of his studies. 
They were generally bent toward exploded Chimeras, the 
perpetuum mobile, the circular shot, philosopher's stone, and 



paruii!'''i?Aprii^i^7""] Union OF England and Scotland. 335 

silent gunpowder ; making chains for fleas, nets for flies, and 
instruments to unravel cobwebs and split hairs. 

Thus I think I have given you a distinct account of the 
methods he practised upon Peg. 

Her brother would, now and then, ask her, "What a Devil ! 
dost thou see in that pragmatical [busybody of a] coxcomb, to 
make thee so in love with him ? He is a fit match for a 
tailor's or a shoemaker's daughter ; but not for you, that are 
a Gentlewoman ! " 

" Fancy is free ! " quoth Peg, ** I will take my awn way, 
do you take yours ! I do not care for your flaunting beaus 
that gang with their breast open, and their sarks [? shirts] 
over their waistcoats ! that accost me with set speeches out 
of Sidney's Arcadia, or The Academy of Compliments ! Jack 
is a sober, grave young man : though he has none of your 
studied harangues, his meaning is sincere. He has a great 
regard to his father's Will ; and he that shews himself a good 
son, will make a good husband ! Besides, I know he has the 
original Deed of Conveyance to the Fortunate Islands : the 
others are counterfeits ! " 

There is nothing so obstinate as young ladies in their 
amours ; the more you cross them, the worse they are ! 



CHAPTER IV. 

How the Relations reconciled John and his sister Peg ; and 
what return Peg made to John's message. 

Ohn Bull, otherwise a good-natured man, was very 
hard hearted to his sister Peg ; chiefly from an 
aversion he had conceived in his infancy. While 
he flourished, kept a warm house, and drove a 
plentiful trade ; poor Peg was forced to go hawking and 
peddling about the streets, selling knives, scissors, and shoe- 
buckles; now and then carried a basket of fish to the market; 
sewed, span, and knitted for a poor livelihood till her fingers' 
ends were sore. And when she could not get bread for her 
family, she was forced to hire them out at journeywork to 
their neighbours [the emigration of the Scotch to other countries]. 
Yet in these, her poor circumstances, she still preserved the 




336 The necessity for Peg's consent. [i4fm*"i°2'* 

air and mien of a Gentlewoman, a certain decent pride that 
extorted respect from the haughtiest of her neighbours. 
When she came into any full assembly, she would not yield 
the pas to the best of them ! If one asked her, " Are not you 
related to John Bull ? " " Yes," says she, '* he has the 
honour to be my brother ! " 

So Peg's affairs went on, till all the Relations cried out 
*' Shame ! " on John, for his barbarous usage of his own flesh 
and blood : that it was an easy matter for him to put her in 
a creditable way of living, not only without hurt, but with 
advantage to himself; she being an industrious person, and 
might be serviceable to him in his way of business. 

*' Hang her ! Jade ! " quoth John, " I cannot endure her, 
as long as she keeps that rascal Jack's company ! " 

They told him the way to reclaim her was to take him 
into his house [tlw Act of Toleration in 1689], that by conver- 
sation, the childish humours of their younger days might be 
worn out. 

These arguments were enforced by a certain incident. It 
happened that John was, at that time, making his Will 
[the Act of Settlement in 1700], the very same in which Nic. 
Frog is named Executor. Now his sister Peg's name being 
in the entail {the right of the Succession to the Scottish Crown, if 
Queen Anne should die childless], he could not make a thorough 
Settlement without her consent. 

There was indeed a malicious story went about, as if John's 
last Wife [the Godolphin Administration] had fallen in love 
with Jack, as he was eating custards on horseback ;* that she 
persuaded John to take his sister Peg into the house, the 
better to drive on her intrigue with Jack, concluding he 
would follow his Mistress, Peg. All I can infer from this 
story is, that when one has got a bad character in the World, 

* [Dean Swift in the Fifth edition of the Tate of a Tub, p. 133, 17 10, 
has in the Text] 

How Jack's tatters came into fashion in Court and City. 

How he got upon a great horse, and eat custard. 

[And in the notes to the same] 

Sir Humphry Edwyn, a Presbyterian, was some years ago [1697] Lord 
Mayor of London ; and had the insolence to go in his formahties to a 
conventicle, with the ensigns of his office. 

Custard is ^ famous dish vit a Lord Mayor's feast. 



F.^^nt'xo'A°pnW?J T H E T E R M S O F T II E U N I O N . 337 

people will report and believe anything of them, true or false. 
But to return to my story. 

When Peg received John's message, she huffed and 
stormed like the Devil 1 

*' My brother John," quoth she, " is grown wondrous kind- 
hearted, all of a sudden ! but I meikle doubt whether it be 
not mair for his awn conveniency than my good ! He draws 
up his weits and his deeds, forsooth ; and I mun set my hand 
to them unsight unseen 1 I like the young man [the House of 
Hanover] he has settled upon well enough ; but I think I 
ought to have a valuable consideration for my consent. He 
wants my poor little farm [Scotland], because it makes a nook 
in his park wall [Great Britain], Ye may e'en tell him, he 
has mair than he makes good use of ! He gangs up and 
down drinking, roaring, and quarrelling through all the 
country markets ! making foolish bargains in his cups, which 
he repents when he is sober ! like a thriftless wretch, spend- 
ing the goods and gear that his forefathers wan with the 
sweat of their brows ! ' light come, light go,' he cares not a 
farthing ! But why should I stand surety for his silly con- 
tracts ? The little I have is free, and I can call it my own ! 
* Hame's hame, be it never so hamely ! ' I ken him well 
enough ! he could never abide me : and when he has his ends, 
he'll e'en use me as he did before ! I am sure I shall be 
treated like a poor drudge ! I shall be set to tend the bairns, 
darn the hose, and mend the linen ! 

"Then there's no living with that old carline [? thistle] his 
mother 1 She rails at Jack, and Jack is an honester man 
than any of her kin ! I shall be plagued with her spells and 
Paternosters, and silly auld warld Ceremonies ! I mun never 
pair my nails on a Friday, nor begin a journey on Childermass 
[Christmas] Day I and I mun stand becking and hinging 
[bowing and scraping] as I gang out and into the hall [Church]. 

" Tell him he may e'en gan his gait ! I'll have nothing to 
do with him ! I'll stay, like the poor country mouse, in my 
own habitation ! " 

So Peg talked. But for all that, by the interposition of good 
friends ; and by many a bonny thing that was sent, and many 
more that was promised Peg, the matter was concluded : and^ 
Peg was taken into the House, upon certain Articles [Act of 
Union between England and Scotland, 1707J one of which 

Y 3 




338 The Dissenters striving for power. [|,-3^t'i^ii''A°pA^^^ 

That she might have the freedom of Jack's conversation, and 
might take him for better and for worse, if she pleased ; provided 
always, he did not come into the house at unseasonable hours ; and 
disturb the rest of the old woman, John's mother. 



CHAPTER V. 

Of some quarrels that happened after Peg was taken into the 
Family. 

jT IS an old observation, that the quarrels of relations 
are harder to reconcile than any other ; injuries 
from friends fret and gall more, and the memory of 
them is not so easily obliterated. This is cunningly 
represented by one of your old sages, called Esop, in the story 
of the bird that was grieved extremely for being wounded 
with an arrow feathered with his own wing ; as also of the 
oak that let many a heavy groan, when he was cleft with a 
wedge of his own timber. 

There was no man in the world less subject to rancour 
than John Bull, considering how often his good nature had 
been abused : yet I don't know but he was too apt to hearken 
to tattling people that carried tales between him and his 
sister Peg, on purpose to sow jealousies and set them together 
by the ears. 

They say, that there were some hardships put upon Peg, 
that had been better let alone ; but it was the business of 
good people to restrain the injuries on one side, and moderate 
the resentments on the other. A good friend acts both parts ; 
the one without the other will not do ! 

The purchase money of Peg's farm was ill paid. Then 
Peg loved a little good liquor, and the servants shut up the 
wine cellar: but for that Peg found a trick; for she made a 
false key [Occasional Conformity], Peg's servants complained 
that they were debarred from all manner of business, and 
never suffered to touch the least thing within the house. If 
they offered t© come into the warehouse, then straight went 
the yard [measuring rod] slap over their noddle ! If they 
ventured into the counting-house, a fellow would throw an 
ink-bottle at their head ! If they came into the best apart- 



p/rtni."'i7°2:] Reactionary ^C73- AGAINST Dissenters. 339 

ment, to set anything there in order; they were saluted with 
a broom ! If they meddled with anything in the kitchen, it 
was odds but the cook laid them over the pate with a ladle ! 
One that would have gone into the stables, was met by two 
rascals, who fell to work with him, with a brush and a curr\ 
comb ! Some climbing up into the coach box, were told 
that "one of their companions had been there before, that 
could not drive !" then slap went the long whip about their 
ears! 

On the other hand, it was complained that Peg's servants 
were always asking for drink money ! that they had more 
than their share of the Christmas Box. To say the truth. 
Peg's lads bustled pretty hard for that : for when they were 
endeavouring to lock it up, they got in their great fists, and 
pulled out handfuls of half-crowns, some shillings and six- 
pences ; others in the scramble picked up guineas and broad 
pieces. 

But there happened a worse thing than this. It was com- 
plained that Peg's servants had great stomachs [Fanatics 
(Dissenters) getting into places of trust], and brought too 
many of their friends and acquaintance to the table, that 
John's family was like[ly] to be eaten out of house and 
home. 

Instead of regulating this matter as it ought to be, Peg's 
young men were thrust from the table [Fanatics exclnded by 
the passing of the Occasional Conformity Act, in 1711]. Then 
there was the Devil and all to do ! spoons, plates and dishes 
flew about the room like mad ; and Sir Roger [Robert 
Harley], who was now Major Domo, had enough to do to 
quiet them. 

Peg said this was contrary to agreement, whereby she 
was, in all things, to be treated like a child of the family. 
Then she called upon those that had made her such fair 
promises, and undertook for her brother John's good be- 
haviour ; but, alas, to her cost, she found that they were the 
first and readiest to do her the injury. 

John, at last, agreed to this regulation, that Peg's footmen 
might sit with his book-keeper, journeymen, and apprentices; 
and Peg's better sort of servants might sit with his footmen, 
if they pleased. 

Then, they began to order plum-porridge and minced pies 



340 John Bull's story of the War. [parAi^ioAprii'^-S; 

for Peg's dinner [the Act of iyi2, restoring the ancient righti 
of Patrons in the bestowal of Scotch ecclesiastical presentations ; 
which had been, of late, in the power of the Kirk] . Peg told them , 
" She had an aversion to that sort of food ; that upon the 
forcing down of a mess of it some years ago, it threw her 
into a fit until she brought it up again." Some alleged it 
was nothing but humour, that the same mess should be 
served up again for supper, and breakfast next morning : 
others would have made use of a horn. But the wiser sort 
bid let her alone, and she might take to it of her own 
accord. 

CHAPTER VI. 

The Conversation between John Bull and his wife, [Queen 

Anne]. 



Mrs. Bull. 




Hough our affairs, Honey ! are in a 
bad condition ; I have a better opinion 
of them, since you seem to be con- 
vinced of the ill course you have been 
in, and are resolved to submit to proper remedies. But 
when I consider your immense debts, your foolish bargains, 
and the general disorder of your business ; I have a curiosity 
to know, what Fate or Chance has brought you into this 
condition ? 

John Bull. I wish you would talk of some other subject. 
The thoughts of it make me mad I Our Family must have 
their run ! 

Mrs. Bull. But such a strange thing as this, never hap- 
pened to any of your Family before ! They have had Law- 
suits [wars'] ; but though they spent the income, they nevei 
mortgaged the Stock [Capital] ! Sure, you must have some 
of the Norman or Norfolk blood in you : prithee, give me 
some account of these matters ! 

John Bull. Who could help it ? There lives not such a 
fellow by bread, as that old Lewis Baboon ! It is the 
cheatingest, [most] contentious rogue upon the face of the 
earth ! 

You must know, one day, as Nic. Frog and I were over 
a bottle, making up an old quarrel, the old knave would 



?anU'"'"Xlu7-] The Treaties of Partition. 341 

needs have us drink a bottle of his Champagne : and so, one 
after another, till my friend Nic. and I, not being used to 
such heady stuff, got drunk. Lewis, all the while, either by 
the strength of his brain or flinching his glass, kept himself 
sober as a judge. 

" My worthy friends," quoth Lewis, " henceforth, let us 
live neighbourly ! I am as peaceable and quiet as a lamb, of 
my own temper; but it has been my misfortune to live among 
quarrelsome neighbours. There is but one thing that can 
make us fall out, and that is the Inheritance of Lord 
Strutt's estate. I am content, for peace sake, to waive my 
right, and submit to any expedient to prevent a Lawsuit. I 
think an equal division will be the fairest way ! " 

" Well moved, old Lewis ! " quoth Frog, " and Lhope my 
friend John here, will not be refractory ! " At the same 
time, he clapped me on the back, and slabbered me all over, 
from cheek to cheek, with his great tongue. 

" Do as you please. Gentlemen! " quoth I ; " it is all one to 
John Bull! " 

We agreed, to part that night, and next morning to meet 
at the corner of Lord Strutt's park wall, with our surveying 
instruments: which accordingly we did [the negotiations for 
the first Treaty of Partition in i6g8]. 

Old Lewis carried a chain and a semicircle; Nic, paper, 
rulers, and a lead pencil ; and I followed at some distance 
with a long pole. 

We began first surveying the meadow grounds ; afterwards, 
we measured the cornfields, close [field] by close ; then we 
proceeded to the woodlands, the copper and tin mines [the 
West Indies]. All this while, Nic. laid down everything 
exactly, upon paper, and calculated the acres and roods to a 
great nicety. When we finished the land, we were going to 
break into the house and gardens, to take an inventory of his 
plate, pictures, and other furniture. 

Mrs. Bull. What said Lord Strutt to all this ? 

John Bull. As we had almost finished our concern, we 
were accosted by some one of Lord Strutt's servants. 
" Hey day ! what's here ? What a Devil ! is the meaning of 
all these trangrams and gimcracks. Gentlemen ? What, in 
the name of wonder ! are you going about, jumping over my 
Master's hedges, and running your lines across his grounds ? 



342 Bull then, a little thin man. [pJiu^'^oApku7?2\ 

If you are at any field pastime, you might have asked leave ! 
my Master is a civil well bred person as any is ! " 

Mrs. Bull. What could you answer to this ? 

John Bull. Why, truly, my neighbour Frog and I were 
still hot-headed. We told him, " His Master was an old 
doating puppy that minded nothing of his own business ! 
that we were surveying his estate, and settling it for him ; 
since he would not do it himself!" 

Upon this, there happened a quarrel ; but we being stronger 
than they, sent them away with a flea in their ear. 

They went home, and told their Master. " My Lord ! " 
say they, " there are three odd sort of fellows going about 
your grounds, with the strangest machines that ever we 
beheld in our life. We suppose they are going to rob your 
orchard, fell your trees, or drive away your cattle. They 
told us strange things, about * settling your estates.' One 
[Lewis Baboon] is a lusty old fellow in a black wig with a 
black beard, and without teeth. There's another [Nicholas 
Frog] thick squat fellow in trunk hose [knee-breeches]. The 
third is a little long-nosed thin man (I was then lean, being 
just come out of a fit of sickness [? the war 1689 — 1697]). 
We suppose it is fit to send after them, lest they carry some- 
thing away ! " 

Mrs. Bull, 1 fancy this put the old fellow in a rare tweag 
[passion] ! 

John Bull. Weak as he was, he called for his long Toledo 
[sword], swore, and bounced about the room, " 'Sdeath ! 
what am I come to, to be affronted so by my tradesmen ? 1 
know the rascals ! My barber, linendraper, and clothier 
dispose of my estate ! Bring hither my blunderbuss ! I'll 
warrant ye, you shall see daylight through them ! Scoun- 
drels ! dogs ! the scum of the earth ! Frog ! that was my 
father's kitchen-boy ; he pretend to meddle with my estate ! 
with my Will ! Ah, poor Strutt ! what art thou come to 
at last ! Thou hast lived too long in the world to see thy 
age and infirmity so despised ! How will the ghosts of my 
noble ancestors receive these tidings ? they cannot, they must 
not sleep quietly in their graves ! " In short, the old gentle- 
man was carried off in a fainting fit ; and, after bleeding in 
both arms, hardly recovered. 

Mrs. Bull. Really, this was a very extraordinary way of 
proceeding : I long to hear the rest of it ! 



Parfm.'^ji'GLEWIS ACTS ON THE WiLL, NOT THE TREATY.343 

John Bull. After we had come back to the tavern, and 
taken the other bottle of Champagne, we quarrelled a little 
about the division of the estate. Lewis hauled and pulled 
the map on one side, and Frog and I on the other ; till we 
had like to have torn the parchment to pieces. 

At last, Lewis pulled out a pair of tailor's great shears, 
and clipped off a corner for himself [Guipuscoa and Sicily went 
to France, by the First Partition Treaty of i6g8], which he said 
was a Manor that lay convenient for him : and left Frog and 
me the rest to dispose of as we pleased. 

We were overjoyed to think that Lewis was contented 
with so little, not smelling what was at the bottom of the plot. 

There happened, indeed, an incident that gave us some 
disturbance. A cunning fellow, one of my servants, two 
days after, peeping through the keyhole, observed that old 
Lewis had stole away our part of the map, and saw him 
fiddlmg and turning the map from one corner to the other, 
trying to join the two pieces again. He was muttering 
something to himself, which he did not well hear, only these 
words, " 'Tis a great pity 1 'tis a great pity 1 " My servant 
added, that he believed this had some ill meaning. 

I told him, " He was a coxcomb, always pretending to be 
wiser than his companions ! Lewis and I are good friends. 
He is an honest fellow ; and, I dare say ! will stand to his 
bargain. 

The sequel of the story proved this fellow's suspicion to 
be too well grounded. For Lewis revealed our whole secret 
to the deceased Lord Strutt, who (in reward to his 
treachery, and revenge to Frog and me), settled his whole 
estate upon the present Philip Baboon [Philip, Duke of 
Anjou, afterwards Philip V.]. Then we understood what he 
meant by piecing the map together. 

Mrs. Bull. And were you surprised at this ? Had not 
Lord Strutt reason to be angry ? Would you have been 
contented to have been so used yourself? 

John Bull. Why, truly, Wife ! it was not easily recon- 
ciled to the common methods ! but then it was the fashion 
to do such things. 

I have read of your Golden Age, your Silver Age, &c.: one 
might justly call this, the Age of the Lawyers [Claimants]. 
There is hardly a man of substance in all the country, but 



344 It is an age of Pretenders. [partuL'^x^Cii^?": 

had a Counterfeit that pretended to his estate. As the 
philosophers say, that there is a dupHcate of every terrestial 
animal, at sea; so it was in this Age of Lawyers, there were, 
at least, two of everything. Nay, on my conscience ! I think 
there were three Esquire Hackums [kings of Poland] at 
one time. 

Lewis Baboon entertained a fellow [the Chevalier St. 
George, afterwards called the Old Pretender] that called him- 
self John Bull's Heir. I knew him no more than the child 
unborn ; yet he brought me into some trouble and expense. 
There was another that pretended to be Esquire South 
[Emperor of Austria] : and two Lord Strutts, you know ! 

In short, it was usual for a parcel of fellows to meet and 
dispose of the whole estates in the country. 

" This lies convenient for me, Tom ! " ** Thou would do 
more good with that, Dick ! than the old fellow that has it ! " 
So to law they went with the true owners. The lawyers got 
well by it : everybody else was undone. 

It was a common thing for an honest man, when he 
came home at night, to find another fellow domineering in 
his family, hectoring his servants, and calling for his supper. 
In every house, you might observe two SosiAS quarrelling who 
was Master! For my own part, I am still afraid of the same 
treatment ! that I should find somebody behind my counter 
selling my broadcloth. 

Mrs. Bull. There are a sort of fellows that they call 
Banterers and Bamboozlers, that play such tricks ; but it 
seems these fellows were in earnest! 

John Bull. I begin to think that Justice is a better rule 
\han Conveniency, for all some people make so slight on it 1 

CHAPTER VII. 

Of the hard shifts Mrs. Bull was put to, to preserve the 
Manor of Bullock's Hatch ; with Sir Roger's method to keep off 
importunate duns. 

|S John Bull and his wife were talking together, 
they were surprised with a sudden knocking at the 
door. 

" Those wicked Scriveners and Lawyers, no 
doubt ! " quoth John. And so it was ; some asking for the 




PartnL'\"oASl^7^G E N GL AN d's F I N AN C I AL ST R A I T S . 345 

money that he owed, and others warning to prepare for the 
approaching Term. 

" What a cursed Hfe do I lead ! " quoth John. " Debt is 
Hke deadly sin. For GOD's sake ! Sir Roger! get me rid 
of these fellows ! " 

"I'll warrant you!" quoth Sir Roger, "leave them to 
me!" 

And indeed it was pleasant enough to observe Sir Roger's 
method with those importunate duns. His sincere friendship 
for John Bull, made him submit to many things, for his 
service, which he would have scorned to have done for him- 
self. 

Sometimes he would stand at the door with his long pole, 
to keep off the duns, till John got out at the back door. 
When the lawyers and Tradesmen [the Allies] brought ex- 
travagant bills, Sir Roger used to bargain beforehand for 
leave to cut off a quarter of a yard in any part of the bill he 
pleased : he wore a pair of scissors in his pocket for this 
purpose, and would snip it off so nicely, as you cannot 
imagine ! Like a true goldsmith, he kept all your holidays 
[i.e., to gain more time] : there was not one wanting in his 
Calendar ! When ready money was scarce, he would set 
them a telling [counting] a Thousand Pounds in sixpences, 
groats, and threepenny pieces. It would have done your 
heart good to have seen him charge through an army of 
Lawyers, Attorneys, Clerks, and Tradesmen ! sometimes with 
sword in hand, at other nuzzling like an eel in the mud. 
When a fellow stuck like a burr that there was no shaking 
him off, he used to be mighty inquisitive about the health of 
his uncles and aunts in the country I he would call them all 
by their names : for he knew everybody, and could talk to 
them in their own way. The extremely impertinent, he 
would send them away to see some strange sight, as the 
dragon at Hockley the Hole, or bid him call the 30th of next 
February. 

Now and then, you would see him in the kitchen, weighing 
the beef and butter, paying ready money that the maids 
might not run a [on] tick at the market, and the butchers (by 
bribing of them) sell damaged and light meat. Another 
time, he would slip into the cellar, and gauge the casks. 

In his leisure minutes, he was posting his books, and 



346 John Bull continues his story. [pannL^"oAp"i^7S 

gathering in his debts : such frugal methods were necessary 
where money was so scarce, and duns so numerous. 

All this while, John kept his credit, could show his head 
both at the Change and Westminster Hall ; no man pro- 
tested his bill, nor refused his bond : only the Sharpers and 
Scriveners, the Lawyers and other Clerks pelted Sir Roger 
as he went along. The Squirters were at it, with their 
kennel water ; for they were mad for the loss of their bubble 
[victim], and that they could not get him to mortgage the 
Manor of Bullock's Hatch [to repeal the Sacramental Test Act 
0/1673]. 

Sir Roger shook his ears, and nuzzled along; well satisfied 
within himself that he was doing a charitable work, in rescu- 
ing an honest man from the claws of harpies and blood-suckers. 

Mrs. Bull did all that an affectionate wife and a good 
housewife could do. Yet the boundaries of virtues are indi- 
visible lines. It is impossible to rnarch up close to the 
frontiers of frugality, without entering the territories of 
parsimony. Your good housewives are apt to look into the 
minutest things. Therefore some blamed Mrs. Bull for new 
heelpiecing of her shoes, grudging a quarter of a pound of 
soap and sand to scour the rooms : but especially that she 
would not allow her maids and apprentices the benefit oi John 
BuNYAN, the London Apprentice, or the Seven Champions in the 
black letter [the Act for restraining the Press, against seditions 
pamphlets] . 

CHAPTER VIII. 

A continuation of the Conversation betwixt John Bull and 
his wife. 

Mrs. Bull. 1^^' 1^1 T IS a most sad life we lead, my Dear ! 
to be so teazed, paying interest for old 
debts, and still contracting new ones. 
However, I do not blame you for vindi- 
cating your honour, and chastizing old Lewis. To curb 
the insolent, protect the oppressed, recover one's own, and 
defend what one has, are good effects of the Law. The only 
thing I want to know is, how you come to mai<:e an end of 
your money, before you have finished your Suit ? 




Par/iit^^oAprii'y-] Ho^v THE National Debt grew. 347 

John Bull. I was told by the Learned in the Law, that my 
Suit stood upon three firm pillars: More Money for more Law ^ 
more Law for more Money, and no Composition. " More 
Money for more Law," was plain to a demonstration ; for 
who can go to Law without money ? and it was as plain, that 
any man that has Money, may have Law for it ! The third 
was as evident as the other two : for what Composition 
[Peace] could be made with a rogue that never kept a word 
he said ? 

Mrs. Bull. I think you are most likely to get out of this 
labyrinth by the second door, by want of ready money to 
purchase this precious commodity ! But you seem not only 
to have bought too much of it, but to have paid too dear for 
what you have bought ! else how was it possible to run so 
much in debt, when, at this very time, the yearly income 
that is mortgaged to those usurers, would discharge Hocus's 
bills, and give you your bellyful of Law for all your life, 
without running one sixpence in debt ! You have been bred 
up to business ! I suppose you can cypher ! I wonder you 
never used your pen and ink ! 

John Bull. Now, you urge me too far ! Prithee, dear 
wife ! hold thy tongue ! Suppose a young heir, heedless, raw, 
and inexperienced ; full of spirit and vigour, with a favourite 
passion, in the hands of Money Scriveners [Money Lenders] I 
Such fellows are like your wire-drawing mills ! if they get 
hold of a man's finger they will pull in his whole body at 
last, till they squeeze the heart, blood, and bowels out of 
him. When I wanted money, half a dozen of these fellows 
were always waiting in my antechamber, with their securities 
ready drawn. I was tempted with the " ready" ! Some farm 
or other went to pot! I received with one hand, and paid 
it aw^ay with the other, to Lawyers that, like so many hell- 
hounds, were ready to devour me. Then the rogues would 
plead poverty and scarcity of money. That always ended in 
[my] receiving Ninety for the Hundred ! After they had gotten 
possession of my best rents, they were able to supply me 
with my own money 1 But what was worse, when I looked 
into my securities [Perpetual Consols], there was no clause of 
redemption. 

Mrs. Bull. " No Clause of Redemption," say you I that's 
hardl 



348 The first years of the War i 702-1 707. [pLvan'I'i"^^: 

John Bull. No great matter, for I cannot pay them ! 
They had got a worse trick than that ! The same man 
bought and sold to himself, paid the money, and gave the 
acquittance. The same man was Butcher and Grazier, 
Brewer and Butler, Cook and Poulterer. There is something 
still worse than all this. There came twenty bills on me, at 
once ; which I had given money to discharge. I was like[ly] 
to be pulled to pieces by Brewer, Butcher, and Baker; even 
my Herb-Woman dunned me as I went along the streets 
(thanks to my friend Sir Roger ! else I must have gone to 
gaol). When I asked the meaning of this, I was told, 
"The money went to the Lawyers; Counsel won't tick [give 
credit], Sir!" Hocus was urging, my Bookkeeper [Lord 
Treasurer GODOLPHIN] sat sotting all day, playing at Putt 
and All Fours. In short, by griping Usurers, devouring 
Lawyers, and negligent Servants, I am brought to this pass ! 

Mrs. Bull. This was hard usage ; but, methinks, the least 
reflection might have retrieved you ! 

John Bull. 'Tis true ! yet consider my circumstances ! 
My honour was engaged, and I did not know how to get 
out ! Besides, I was, for five years, often drunk ; always 
muddled 1 They carried me from tavern to tavern, to ale- 
houses and brandy-shops ; and brought me acquainted with 
such strange dogs 1 " There goes the prettiest fellow in the 
world," says one, " for managing a jury ; make him yours ! " 
" There is another can pick you up witnesses 1" *' Serjeant 
Such-a-One has a silver tongue at the bar!" I believe in 
time I should have retained every single person within the 
Inns of Court ! 

The night after a trial, I treated the Lawyers, their wives, 
and daughters, with fiddles, hautboys, drums, and trumpets. 
I was always hot-headed ! Then they placed me in the 
middle ; the Attorneys and their Clerks dancing about me, 
whooping and holloaing, " Long live John Bull ! the glory 
and support of the Law ! " 

Mrs. Bull. Really, Husband ! you went through a very 
notable course ! 

John Bull. One of the things that first alarmed me, was 
that they shewed a spite against my poor old Mother. 

" Lord!" quoth I, "what makes you so jealous of a poor 
old innocent Gentlewoman that minds only her Prayers and 



Pa/t'nh'iXii^^7"i^:] Satire on the High Flying fury. 349 

her Practice of Piety ? She never meddles in any of your 
concerns !" 

"Foh!" say they, "to see a handsome, brisk, genteel, 
young fellow so much governed by a doating old woman ! Why 
don't you go and suck the bubby [breasts. Bu bu is the cry of 
the child needing its another's milk] ? Do you consider she keeps 
you out of a good jointure ! She has the best of your estate 
settled upon her for a rent-charge [tithes] ! Hang her, old 
thief 1 turn her out of doors I seize her lands! and let her go 
to Law if she dares !" 

" Soft and fair, Gentlemen !" quoth I ; "my mother is my 
mother ! Our Family is not of an unnatural temper ! Though 
I don't take all her advice, I won't seize her jointure ! Long 
may she enjoy it, good woman ! I don't grudge it her ! She 
allows me, now and then, a brace of Hundreds [taxation of the 
Clergy] for my Lawsuit ; that is pretty fair ! '* 

About this time, the old Gentlewoman fell ill of an odd 
sort of a distemper [deterioration and worldliness of the Estab- 
lished Clergy]. It began with a coldness and numbness in 
her limbs ; which, by degrees, affected the nerves (I think 
the Physicians call them), seized the brain, and at last 
ended in a lethargy. It betrayed itself, at first, in a sort of 
indifference and carelessness in all her actions, coldness to 
her best friends, and an aversion to stir or go about the 
common offices of life. She that would sometimes rattle off 
her servants pretty sharply; now if she saw them drink, or 
heard them talk profanely, never took any notice of it. 
Instead of her usual charities to deserving persons, she threw 
away her money upon roaring swearing bullies and randy 
beggars that went about the streets. 

" What is the matter with the old Gentlewoman ? " said 
everybody ; " she never used to do in this manner !" 

At last, the distemper grew more violent, and threw her 
downright into raving fits [Complaints against Moderation] ; 
in which, she shrieked out so loud, that she disturbed the 
whole neighbourhood. In her fits, she call out upon Sir 
William [William III.] : " O, Sir William ! thou hast 
betrayed me ! killed me ! stabbed me ! sold me ! See, see, 
Clum with his bloody knife! seize him! seize him! stop 
him ! Behold the Fury with her hissing snakes ! Where 
is my son John ? Is he well ? is he well ? Poor man, I 



350 ArBUTHNOT's two great colleagues. P' ^Part m!' ^71^: 

pity him ! " And abundance more of such strange stuff' that 
nobody could make anything of. 

I knew Httle of the matter ; for when I inquired about her 
health, the answer was, "She was in a good moderate 
way! " 

Physicians were sent for in haste : Sir Roger with great 
difficulty brought R[adcli]ff [the Tory party]. G[ar]th 
[the Whig party] came upon the first message. There were 
several others called in : but, as usual upon such occasions, 
they differed strangely at the Consultation. 

At last they divided into two parties; one sided with 
G[ar]th, and the other with R[adcli]ff. 

Dr. G[ar]th. This case seems to me, to be plainly 
hysterical. The old woman is whimsical ; it is a common 
thing for your old women to be so ! I'll pawn my life ! 
Blisters with the Steel diet will recover her ! 

Others suggested strong purging and letting of blood, 
because she was plethoric. Some went so far as to say the 
old woman was mad ; and that nothing would do better than 
a little corporal correction. 

R[ADCLijFF. Gentlemen, you are mistaken in this case. 
It is plainly an acute distemper ! and she cannot hold out 
three days, without she is supported with strong cordials ! 

I came into her room with a good deal of concern, and 
asked them, " What they thought of my mother ? " 

" In no manner of danger, I vow to God ! " quoth 
G[ar]th, "the old woman is hysterical, fanciful. Sir, I vow 
to God ! " 

*' I tell you, Sir ! " says R[adcli]ff, " she can't live three 
days to an end, unless there is some very effectual course 
taken with her ! She has a malignant fever ! " 

Then " Fool ! " " Puppy ! " and " Blockhead ! " were the 
best words they gave. I could hardly restrain them from 
throwing the ink-bottles at one another's heads. 

I forgot to tell you, that one party of the physicians desired 
I should take my sister Peg into the house to nurse her; but 
the old Gentlewoman would not hear of that. 

At last, one physician asked, " If the Lady had ever been 
used to take laudanum ? " 

Her maid answered, " Not that she knew ! " that " indeed 
there was a High German liveryman of ners, one Yan 



Par/in!''iSii^'7".] Influence of House of Hanover. 351 

Ptschirnsooker [Inviting over the Palatines] that gave her a 
sort of a Quack powder." 

The physician desired to see it; "Nay," says he, "there 
is opium in this, I am sure ! " 

Mrs. Bull. I hope you examined a Httle into this matter ! 

John Bull. I did indeed ! and discovered a great mystery 
of iniquity. 

The witnesses made oath, that they had heard some of 
the liverymen frequently railing at their Mistress. They 
said " She was a troublesome fiddle faddle old woman, and so 
ceremonious that there was no bearing of her ! They were 
so plagued with bowing and cringing, as they went in and 
out of the room, that their backs ached ! She used to scold 
at one, for his dirty shoes : at another, for his greasy hair, 
and not combing his head ! Then she was so passionate 
and fiery in her temper, that there was no living with her ! 
She wanted something to sweeten her blood ! They never 
had a quiet night's rest, for getting up in the morning to 
early sacraments ! They wished they could find some way 
or another to keep the old woman quiet in her bed ! " 

Such discourses were so often overheard among the livery- 
men, that the said Yan Ptschirnsooker had undertaken this 
matter. 

A maid made affidavit, that she " had seen the said Yan 
Ptschirnsooker, one of the liverymen, frequently making 
up of medicines, and administering them to all the neigh- 
bours"; that she " saw him, one morning, make up the 
powder which her mistress took," that she " had the curi- 
osity to ask him, whence he had the ingredients ? " 

"They come," says he, "from several parts of de world. 
Dis I have from Geneva ! dat from Rome ! this white powder 
from Amsterdam ! and the red from Edinburgh : but the 
chief ingredient of all comes from Turkey ! " 

It was likewise proved, that the said Yan Ptschirnsooker 
had been frequently seen at the Rose with Jack, who was 
known to bear an inveterate spite to his Mistress ; that he 
brought a certain powder to his Mistress, which the 
Examinant believes to be the same, and spoke the following 
words : Madam, here is grand secret van de icarld ! my 
sweetning powder ! It does temperate de humour, despcl de windt, 
and cure de vapour ! It hdleth and quieteth de animal spirits, 




352 A SPECIMEN OF DUTCH CLAIMS. [pan^nL'^^Aprlu;!". 

procuring rest and pleasant dreams ! It is de infallible receipt for 
de scurvy, all heats in de bloodt, and breaking out upon de shin ! 
It is de true bloodt stauncher, stopping all fluxes of de bloodt ! 
If you do take this, you will never ail anything ! it will cure you 
of all diseases ! and abundance more to this purpose, which 
the Examinant does not remember. 

John Bull was interrupted in his story by a porter, that 
brought him a letter from Nicholas Frog ; which is as 
follows ; 



CHAPTER IX. 
A copy of Nicholas Frog's letter to John Bull, 

'Ohn Bull reads 

Friend JOHN ! 

What schellum is it, that makes thee jealous of thy 
old friend NICHOLAS ? Hast thou forgot how, some years ago, 
he took thee out of the Sponging-hoicse [The Revolution of 
1688]. 

'Tis true, my friend Nic. did so, and I thank him ! but he 
made me pay a swinging reckoning. 

Thou beginst now to repent the bargain that thou wast so fond 
of! and, if thou durst, would foreswear thy own hand and seal. 
Thou sayst that " thou hast purchased me too great an estate 
already ! " when, at the same time, thou knowest I have only a 
mortgage [the Spanish Netherlands]. 'Tis true, I have 
possession, and the tenants own me for Master ; but has not 
Esquire SOUTH the equity of redemption ? 

No doubt, and will redeem it very speedily ! Poor Nic. 
has only possession ; eleven points of the Law ! 

As for the turnpikes [the prohibition of trade to all but the 
English] / have set up ; they are for other people, not for my 
friend John ! I have ordered my servant constantly to attend, 



pmiit^^xXriJ'^x^/?-] Frog's LETTER, & John's comments. ^53 

to let thy carriages through, without paying anything ; only I 
hope thou wilt not come too heavy ladened, to spoil my ways ! 

Certainly, I have just cause of offence against thee, my friend ! 
for supposing it possible that thou and I should ever quarrel. 
What houndsfoot is it, that puts these whims in thy head ? Ten 
thousand lasts [a Last was estimated to contain 10,000 
herrings] of devils haul me, if I do not love thee as I love my 
life! 

No question ! as the Devil loves holy water I 

Does not thy own hand and seal oblige thee to purchase for me, till 
I say " It is enough / " Are not these words plain ? I say, it is 
not enough I Dost thou think thy friend Nicholas Frog 
made a child's bargain ! Marks the words of thy contract, tota 
pecunia, with all thy money ! 

Very well ! I have purchased with my own money, my 
children's, and my grandchildren's money : is that not 
enough ? Well, tota pecunia, let it be ! for, at present, I 
have none at all ! He would not have me purchase with 
other people's money, sure ! Since tota pecunia is the 
bargain, I think it is plain " no more money, no more pur- 
chase ! " 

And, whatever the World may say ! NICHOLAS Frog is but a 
poor man in comparison of the rich, the opulent John Bull, 
great Clothier of the World I 

I have had many losses I Six of my best sheep were drowned; 
and the water has come into my cellar, and spoiled a pipe of ?ny 
best brandy. It would be a more friendly act in thee, to carry a 
Brief about the country, to repair the losses of thy poor friend! 
Is it not evident to all the World, that I am still hemmed in by 
Lewis Baboon ? Is he not just upon my borders ? 

And so he will be, if I purchase a thousand acres more ; 
unless he gets somebody betwixt them ! 

I tell thee, friend John ! thou hast flatterers that persuade thee 

Z 3 



354 "Thou art as fickle as the wind ! " [part^iif'lJX'iUz-. 

thou art a man of bminess. Do not believe them ! If thou 
wouldst still leave thy affairs in my hands, thou shouldst see how 
handsomely I would deal by thee ! That ever thou shouldst be 
dazzled with the Enchanted Islands [the South Seas, i.e., the 
Spanish Colonies in the Pacific] and mountains of gold, that 
old Lewis promises thee! 'Dswounds/ why dost thou not lay 
out thy money to purchase a place at Court, of honest Israel ? I 
tell thee, thou must not so much as think of a Composition [Peace]. 

Not think of a Composition, that is hard indeed ! I can- 
not help thinking of it, if I would 1 

Thou complainest of want of money, let thy wife and daughters 
burn the gold lace upon their petticoats ! sell thy fat cattle ! 
retrench but a sirloin of beef and a peck-loaf in a week, from thy 
gormandizing stomach I 

Retrench my beef, a dog! retrench my beef! Then it is 
plain the rascal has an ill design upon me ! He would 
starve me I 

Mortgage thy Manor of Bullock's Hatch, or pawn thy crop for 
ten years ! 

A rogue ! Part with my country seat, my patrimony, all 
that I have left in the world ! Fll see thee hanged first ! 

Why hast thou changed thy A ttorney ! Can any man manage 
thy Cause better for thee ? 

Very pleasant ! Because a man has a good Attorney, he 
must never make an end of his Lawsuit ! 

Ah, John! John! I wish thou knewst thy own mind! 
Thou art as fickle as the wind ! I tell thee, thou hadst better let 
this Composition alone, or leave it to thy 

Loving friend, 

N I c . Frog. 




P--r/lIL'"SpriU;Pa:] O N E H A S A D U M B D E V I l! 35 5 



C H APTE R X. 

Of some extraordinary things that passed at the Salutation 
tavern, in the Conference between Bull, Frog, Esquire South, 
and Lewis Baboon. 

RoG had given his word that he would meet the 
above-mentioned company at the Salutation [the 
Congress at Utrecht], to talk of this Agreement. 
Though he durst not directly break his appointment, 
he made many a shuffling excuse. One time, he pretended 
to be seized with the gout in his right knee ; then he got a 
great cold that had struck him deaf of one ear : afterwards 
two of his coach horses fell sick, and he durst not go by 
water for fear of catching an ague. 

John would take no excuse ; but hurried him away. 
** Come Nic. ! " says he, " let us go and hear at least, what 
this Old Fellow has to propose ! I hope there is no hurt in 
that ! " 

** Be it so," says Nic, " but if I catch any harm, woe be 
to you ! My wife and children will curse you as long as they 
live ! " 

When they were come to the Salutation, John concluded 
all was sure, then ! and that he should be troubled no more 
with law affairs. He thought everybody as plain and sincere 
as he was. 

" Well, neighbours ! " quoth he, " let us now make an end 
of all matters, and live peaceably together for the time to 
come ! If everybody is as well inclined as I, we shall 
quickly come to the upshot of our affair ! " And so, pointing 
to Frog to say something : to the great surprise of all 
the company, Frog was seized with a dead palsy in the 
tongue. 

John began to ask him some plain questions, and whooped 
and holloaed in his ear. 

John Bull. Let us come to the point, Nic. ! Who wouldst 
thou have to be Lord Strutt ? Wouldst thou have Philip 
Baboon ? 

Nic. shook his head, and said nothing. 



Arbuthnot. 



356 The other has a spirit of infirmity! [p^m 

John Bull. Wilt thou then have Esquire South to be 
Lord Strutt ? 

Nic. shook his head a second time. 

John Bull. Then who, the Devil ! wilt thou have ? Say 
something or another ! 

Nic. opened his mouth, and pointed to his tongue ; and 
cried, " A ! a ! a ! a ! " ; which was as much as to say he could 
not speak. 

John Bull. Shall 1 serve Philip Baboon with broad- 
cloth ; and accept of the Composition that he offers, with the 
liberty of his parks and fishponds ? 

Then Nic. roared like a bull, " O ! o ! o ! o ! " 

John Bull. If thou wilt not let me have them, wilt thou 
take them thyself? 

Then Nic. grinned, cackled, and laughed, till he was like 
to kill himself; and seemed to be so pleased that he fell a 
frisking and dancing about the room. 

John Bull. Shall I leave all this matter to thy manage- 
ment, Nic. ! and go about my business ? 

Then Nic. got up a glass and drank to John; shaking him 
by the hand till he had like to have shaken his shoulder out 
of joint. 

John Bull. I understand thee, Nic. ! but I shall make 
thee speak before I go ! 

Then Nic. put his finger to his cheek, and made it cry 
" Buck ! " : which is as much as to say, " I care not a farthing 
for thee ! " 

John Bull. I have done, Nic. ! If thou wilt not speak, I 
will make my own terms with old Lewis here ! 

Then Nic. lolled out his tongue, and turned his back to 
him. 



John perceiving that Frog would not speak, turned to old 
Lewis, " Since we cannot make this obstinate fellow speak, 
Lewis! pray condescend a little to his humour, and set down 
thy meaning upon paper, that he may answer it on another 



scrap 



" I am infinitely sorry," quoth Lewis, " that it happens so 
unfortunately ! for, playing a little at cudgels the other day, 
a fellow has given me such a rap over the right arm th?^ I 



Par/iI^^"oATil'7-] ^HE THIRD HAS A MAD DEVIl! 357 

am quite lame [disabled]. I have lost the use of my forefinger 
and my thumb, so that I cannot hold my pen." 

John Bull. That is all one, let me write for you ! 

Lewis. But I have a misfortune that I cannot read any- 
body's hand but my own. 

John Bull. Try what you can do with your left hand ! 

Lewis. That is impossible ! It will make such a scrawl 
that it will not be legible ! 

As they were talking of this matter, in came Esquire 
South, all dressed up in feathers and ribbons, stark staring 
mad, brandishing his sword as if he would have cut off their 
heads ; crying, " Room, room, boys ! for the grand Esquire 
of the world ! the flower of Esquires ! What ! covered in my 
Presence ! I will crush your souls, and crack you like lice! " 

With that, he had like to have struck John Bull's hat 
into the fire ; but John, who was pretty strong fisted, gave 
him such a squeeze, as made his eyes water. 

He still went on with his pranks, " When I am Lord of 
the Universe, the sun shall prostrate and adore me ! Thou, 
Frog! shalt be my bailiif! Lewis! my tailor! and thou 
John Bull ! shalt be my fool ! " 

All this while. Frog laughed in his sleeve, gave the Esquire 
the other noggin of brandy, and clapped him on the back ; 
which made him ten times madder. 

Poor John stood in amaze, talking thus to himself, " Well, 
John ! thou art got into rare company ! One has a dumb 
devil ! the other a mad devil ! and the third, a spirit of In- 
firmity I An honest man has a fine time of it amongst such 
rogues ! What art thou asking of them, after all ? some 
mighty boon, one would think ! Only to sit quietly at thy 
own fireside. 'Sdeath ! what have I to do with such fellows ? 
John Bull, after all his losses and crosses, can live better 
without them ; than they can, without him ! Would to God ! 
I lived a thousand leagues off them ! but the Devil is in 
it." 

As he was talking to himself, he observed Frog and old 
Lewis edging towards one another to whisper; so that 
John was forced to sit with his arms akimbo to keep them 
asunder. 



358 What have I to do with such fellows! U^^uu^jTi. 

Some people advised John to bleed Frog under the tongue : 
or take away his bread and butter, which would certainly 
make him speak ; to give Esquire South, hellebore : as for 
Lewis, some were for emollient pultas's [poultices] ; others 
for opening his arm with an incision knife. 



I could not obtain from Sir Humphry, at this time, a 
copy of John's letter, which he sent to his nephew by the 
young Necromancer ; wherein he advises him not to eat 
butter and ham, and drink old hock in the morning with the 
Esquire and Frog, for fear of giving him a sour breath. 

FINIS, 




AN 

APPENDIX 

T O 

JOHN BULL 

Still 

In his SENSES: 

O R 

Law is a BottomlessP it. 



Printed from a Manuscript found in the Cabinet of 
the famous Sir Humphry Poles wofth: 
and published fas well as the Three former 
Parts J by the Author oj the New Atlantis. 



LONDON, 

Printed for John Morphew, near Stationers' 
Hall, 17 12. Price 3d. 



36i 



AN APPENDIX 

T O 

JOHN BULL 

Still in his Senses^ ^c. 




CHAPTER I. 

The apprehending, examination, and imprisonment of Jack, for 
snspicivn of poisoning. 

He attentive Reader cannot have forgotten 
that, in my last Part, the Story of Yan 
Ptschirnsooker's Powder, was interrup- 
ted by a message from Frog. I have a 
natural compassion for curiosity, being 
much troubled with the distemper myself; 
therefore, to gratify that uneasy itching 
sensation in my Reader, I have procured 
the following account of that matter. 

Yan Ptschirnsooker came off, as rogues usually do upon 
such occasions, by peaching [turning evidence on] his part- 
ner ; and being extremely forward to bring him to the gallows. 
Jack was accused as the contriver of all the roguery. 

And, indeed, it happened, unfortunately for the poor fellow, 
that he was known to bear a most inveterate spite against the 
old Gentlewoman; and, consequently, that neverany ill accident 
happened to her, but he was suspected to be at the bottom of 
it. If she pricked her finger; Jack, to be sure, laid the pin 
in the way ! If some noise in the street disturbed her rest ; 
who could it be but Jack ? in some of his nocturnal rambles. 
If a servant ran away, Jack had debauched [corrupted] him ! 
Every tittle tattle that went about, Jack was always suspected 
for the author of it ! 

However all was nothing to this last affair of the 



2^62 World LiMiNDEDNESs of Dissenters. [pIv^Sl app' ^7"^ 

Temperating Moderating Powder. The Hue and Cry went 
after Jack, to apprehend him, dead or alive, wherever he could 
be found. The Constables looked out for him, in all his usual 
haunts ; but to no purpose ! Where, do you think, did they 
find him at last ? Even smoking his pipe very quietly, at his 
brother Martin's ! from whence, he was carried, with a vast 
mob at his heels, before the Worshipful Mr. Justice Overdo. 
Several of his neighbours made oath, that, of late, the 
prisoner had been observed to lead a very dissolute life, re- 
nouncing even his usual hypocrisy and pretences to sobriety ; 
that he frequented taverns and eating-houses, and had been 
often guilty of drunkenness and gluttony at my Lord Mayor's 
table [the Dissenters holding Civic appointments] ; that he had 
been seen in the company of lewd women ; that he had trans- 
ferred his usual religious care of the engrossed copy of his 
father's Will [the printed Bible], to Bank Bills, Orders for 
Tallies, and Debentures [Dissenters becoming worldly minded] ; 
• Ta/fof these he now affirmed, with more literal truth, to be 
iAe Tub. fjig^f^ drink, and cloth ; the Philosopher's Stone, and the 
Universal Medicine*; that he was so far from shewing his cus- 
tomary reverence to the Will, that he kept company with 
those [? sceptics'] that called his Father a " cheating rogue ! " 
and his Will " a forgery ! " ; that he not only sat quietly and 
heard his Father railed at, but often chimed in with the 
discourse, and hugged the authors as his bosom friends ; that 
t Tale of instead of asking for blows at the corners of the streets,^ 
the Tub. j^g bestowed them as plentifully as he begged them 
before. In short, that he was grown a mere rake, and had 
nothing left in him of old Jack, except his spite to John 
Bull's mother. 

Another witness made oath, that Jack had been overheard 
bragging of a trick he had found out to manage the " old 

formal Jade," as he used to call her. " D this numbed 

skull of mine," quoth he, "that I could not light on it sooner ! 
As long as I go in this ragged tattered coat, I am so well 
known that I am hunted away from the old woman's door by 
every barking cur about the house ; they bid me defiance ! 
There is no doing mischief as an open enemy ! I must find 
some way or another of getting within doors! and then I shall 
have better opportunities of playing my pranks, besides the 
benefit of good keeping ! [The suggestion here is, that the Dis- 



Part III. -^^ "X^p^^'k^^'^'] Aii^s OF Low Church party. ^6;^ 

senters turned Low Church, for the sake of the good things in the 
Establishment.] 

Two witnesses swore, that several years ago, there came to 
their mistress's door, a young fellow in a tattered coat, that 
went by the name of Timothy Trim ; whom they did, in their 
conscience, believe to be the very prisoner, resembling him 
in shape, stature, and the features of his countenance ; that 
the said Timothy Trim being taken into the family, clapped 
their mistress's livery over his own tattered coat [Church forms 
over Dissenting principles] ; that the said Timothy was ex- 
tremely officious about their mistress's person, endeavouring 
by flattery and tale-bearing, to set her against the rest of their 
servants. Nobody was so ready to fetch anything that was 
wanted, or reach what was dropped ! that he used to shove 
and elbow his fellow servants, to get near his mistress ; es- 
pecially when money was a paying or receiving, then he was 
never out of the way ! That he was extremely diligent about 
everybody's business but his own. 

That the said Timothy, while he was in the Family, used 
to be playing roguish tricks. When his mistress's back was 
turned, he would loll out his tongue, make mouths, and laugh 
at her, walking behind her like a harlequin, ridiculing her 
motions and gestures : if his mistress look about, he put on a 
grave, demure countenance, as [ifj he had been in a fit of 
devotion. That he used often to trip upstairs so smoothly 
that you could not hear him tread, and put all things out of 
order; that he would pinch the children and servants, when 
he met them in the dark, so hard that he left the print of his 
forefingers and thumb in black and blue ; and then slink into 
a corner, as if nobody had done it. Out of the same malicious 
design, he used to lay chairs and joint-stools in their way, 
that they might break their noses by falling over them. The 
more young and unexperienced, he used to teach to talk 
saucily and call names. 

During his stay in the Family, there was much plate 
missing ; that being catched with a couple of silver spoons in 
his pocket, with their handles wrenched off, he said, " He was 
only going to carry them to the goldsmith's to be mended ! " 

That the said Timothy was hated by all the honest ser- 
vants, for his ill-conditioned, splenetic tricks : but especially 
for his slanderous tongue ; traducing them to his mistress, as 
drunkards and thieves. 



364 Struggles OF High & Low Church. pp^'j^^^M;.^: 

That the said Timothy, by lying stories, used to set all 
the Family together by the ears ; taking delight to make them 
fight and quarrel. Particularly, one day sitting at table, he 
spoke words to this effect : 

" I am of opinion," quoth he, " that little short fellows, 
such as we are, have better hearts, and could beat the tall 
fellows. I wish it came to a fair trial ! I believe these long 
fellows, as sightly as they are, should find their jackets well 
thwacked ! " A parcel of tall fellows, who thought themselves 
affronted by this discourse, took up the question : and to it 
they went ! the Tall Men [High Church] and the Low Men 
[Low Church. These ecclesiastical badges first sprang up iii Queen 
Anne's reign] ; which continues still a faction in the Family, 
to the great disorder of our mistress's affairs. 

That the said Timothy carried this frolic so far, that he 
proposed to his mistress, that she should entertain no servant 
that was above four feet seven inches high ; and for that purpose 
he prepared a gauge, by which they were to be measured. 

That the good old Gentlewoman was not so simple as to go 
into his projects. She began to smell a rat. " This Trim," 
quoth she, " is an odd sort of a fellow ! Methinks, he makes 
a strange figure with that ragged tattered coat appearing 
under his livery ! Can't he go spruce and clean, like the rest 
of the servants ? The fellow has a roguish leer with him, 
which I don't like by any means. Besides he has such a 
twang in his discourse, and such an ungraceful way of speak- 
ing through the nose, that one can hardly understand him ! 
I wish [Jiope] the fellow be not tainted with some bad 
disease ! " 

The witnesses further made oath, that the said Timothy 
lay out a nights, and went abroad often at unseasonable 
hours; that it was credibly reported, he did business in another 
family ; that he pretended to have a squeamish stomach, and 
could not eat at table with the rest of the servants [? the 
strict Commtmion of some Dissenters], though this was but a 
pretence to provide some nice bit for himself; that he refused 
to dine upon salt fish, only to have an opportunity to eat a 
calf's head, his favourite dish, in private [alluding to the Calfs 
Head Club] ; that for all his tender stomach, when he was got 
by himself, he would devour capons, turkeys, and sirloins of 
beef, like a cormorant. 



Pan HL^App!' "i^j'^'] Jack committed to his trial. ^6^ 

Two other witnesses gave the following evidence. That in 
his officious attendance upon his mistress, he had tried to slip in 
a powder into her drink ; and that once he was catched en- 
deavouring to stifle her with a pillow as she was asleep : that 
he and Ptschirnsooker were often in close conference, and 
that they used to drink together at the Rose, where it seems 
he was well enough known by the true name of Jack. 

The prisoner had little to say in his defence. He endeavoured 
to prove him alibi ; so that the trial turned upon this single 
question, Whether the said Timothy Trim and Jack were the 
same person ? which was proved by such plain tokens, and 
particularly by a mole under the left pap, that there was no 
withstanding the evidence. Therefore the worshipful Mr. 
Justice committed him, in order to his trial. 



CHAPTER II. 

How Jack's friends came to visit him in prison, and what 
advice they gave him. 

AcK hitherto had passed in the World, for a poor, 
simple, well-meaning, half-witted, crack-brained 
fellow. People were strangely surprised to find him 
in such a roguery ; that he should disguise himself 
under a false name, hire himself out for a servant to an old 
Gentlewoman, only for an opportunity to poison her! They 
said that it was more generous to profess an open emnity, 
than, under a profound dissimulation, to be guilty of such a 
scandalous breach of trust, and of the sacred rights of 
hospitality. 

In short, the action was universally condemned by his best 
friends. They told him, in plain terms, that " this was come 
as a judgement upon him, for his loose life, his gluttony, 
drunkenness, and avarice, laying aside his Father's Will in an 
old mouldy trunk, and turning stock-jobber, newsmonger, 
and busybody, meddling with other people's affairs, shaking 
off his old serious friends, and keeping company with buffoons 
and pickpockets, his Father's sworn enemies ! " that " he 
had best throw himself upon the mercy of the Court, repent, 
and change his manners!" 




^66 Jack must hang himself! [partm. ■'■^aJp!'"7t'2!^'°' 

To say truth, Jack heard these discourses with some com- 
punction ; however he resolved to try what his new acquain- 
tance would do for him. 

They ^ent Habbakuk SLYBOOTS [? Lord Somers] who de- 
livered him the following message, as the peremptory com- 
mands of his trusty companions. 

Habbakuk. Dear Jack ! I am sorry for thy misfortune ! 
Matters have not been carried on with due secrecy; however; 
we must make the best of a bad bargain ! Thou art in the 
utmost jeopardy, that is certain ! hang ! draw ! and quarter ! 
are the gentlest things they talk of. However, thy faithful 
friends, ever watchful for thy security, bid me tell thee, that 
they have one infallible expedient left to save thy life. Thou 
must know, we have got into some understanding with the 
enemy, by means of Don Diego Dismallo. He assures us, 
there is no mercy for thee, and that there is only one way 
left to escape. It is indeed somewhat out of the common 
road : however, be assured it is the result of most mature 
deliberation ! 

Jack. Prithee, tell me quickly ! for my heart is sunk down 
into the very bottom of my belly. 

Habbakuk. It is the unanimous opinion of your friends, 
that you make as if you hanged yourself ! they will give it 
out that you are quite dead, and convey your body out of 
prison in a bier; and that John Bull, being busied with his 
Lawsuit, will not inquire further into the matter. 

Jack. How do you mean, " make as if I had hanged 
myself " ? 

Habbakuk. Nay, but you must really hang yourself up in a 
true genuine rope, that there may appear no trick in it; and 
leave the rest to your friends. 

Jack. Truly this is a matter of some concern, and my 
friends, I hope, won't take it ill, if I inquire into the means 
by which they intend to deliver me. A rope and a noose are 
no jesting matters ! 

Habbakuk. Why so mistrustful ! Hast thou ever found us 
false to thee ? I tell thee, there is one ready to cut thee down ! 

Jack. May I presume to ask, who it is, that is entrusted 
with that important office ? 

Habbakuk. Is there no end of thy " Hows ? " and thy 
" Whys ? " That is a secret I 



p Jt nL"'i7°a;] How THE Dissenters were sacrificed. 367 

Jack. A secret, perhaps, that I may be safely trusted 
with ! for I am not hke[ly] to tell it again ! I tell you plainly, 
it is no strange thing for a man, before he hangs himself up, 
to inquire who is to cut him down ! 

Habbakuk. Thou suspicious creature ! If thou must needs 
know it, I tell thee, it is Sir Roger ! He has been in tears ever 
since thy misfortune. Don Diego and we have laid it so, 
that he is to be in the next room ; and before the rope is well 
about thy neck, rest satisfied he will break in, and cut thee 
down ! Fear not, old boy ! we'll do it, I warrant thee ! 

Jack. So I must hang myself up, upon hopes that Sir 
Roger will cut me down; and all this, upon the credit of 
Don Diego ! A fine stratagem indeed to save my life, that 
depends upon hanging, Don Diego, and Sir Roger ! 

Habbakuk. I tell thee there is a mystery in all this, my 
friend ! a piece of profound policy 1 If thou knew what good 
this will do to the common Cause, thy heart would leap for 
joy ! I am sure thou wouldst not delay the experiment one 
moment ! 

Jack. This is to the tune of All for the better! What is 
your Cause to me, when I am to be hanged ? 

Habbakuk. Refractory mortal! If thou wilt not trust 
thy friends, take what follows 1 Know assuredly, before 
next full moon, that thou wilt be hung up in chains, or thy 
quarters perching upon the most conspicuous places of the 
kingdom ! Nay, I don't believe they will be contented with 
hanging ! they talk of impaling ! or breaking on the wheel ! and 
thou choosest that, before a gentle suspending of thyself for 
one minute ! Hanging is not so painful a thing as thou 
imaginest. I have spoken with several that have undergone 
it. They all agree it is no manner of uneasiness ! Be sure 
thou take good notice of the symptoms ; the relation will be 
curious ! It is but a kick or two with thy heels, and a wry 
mouth or so ! Sir Roger will be with thee, in the twinkling 
of an eye ! 

Jack. But what if Sir Roger should not come ? will my 
friends be there to succour me ? 

Habbakuk. Doubt it not ! I will provide everything 
against to-morrow morning ! Do thou keep thy own secret ! 
say nothing ! I tell thee, it is absolutely necessary for the 
common good, that thou shouldst go through this operatioa 




368 Jack GIVING AN Implicit Faith. [par{nL"App!'^7P2'. 
CHAPTER III. 

How Jack hanged himself up, by the persuasion of his friends; 
who broke their word, and left his neck in the noose. 

AcK was a professed enemy to Implicit Faith ; 
and yet I dare say, it was never more strongly 
exerted, nor more basely abused, than upon this 
occasion. He was now with his friends, in the 
state of a poor disbanded Officer after a Peace, or rather a 
wounded soldier after a battle ; like an old favourite of a 
cunning Minister after the job is over, or a decayed beauty 
to a cloyed lover in quest of new game : or like a hundred 
such things that one sees every day. There were new 
intrigues, new views, new projects on foot. Jack's life was 
the purchase of Diego's friendship; much good may it do 
them ! The Interest of Hocus and Sir William Crawley 
[Sunderland], which was now more at heart, made this 
operation upon poor Jack absolutely necessary. 

You may easily guess that his rest, that night, was but 
small, and much disturbed : however the remaining part of 
his time, he did not employ, as his custom was formerly, in 
prayer, meditation, or singing a double verse of a Psalm ; but 
amused himself with disposing of his Bank Stock. 

Many a doubt, many a qualm overspread his clouded 
imagination. " Must I then," quoth he, " hang up my own 
personal, natural, individual Self, with these two hands ! 
Durus Sermo ! What if I should be cut down, as my friends 
tell me ; there is something infamous in the very attempt ! 
The world will conclude I had a guilty conscience. Is it 
possible that good man. Sir Roger, can have so much pity 
upon an unfortunate scoundrel that has persecuted him so 
many years ? No, it cannot be ! I don't love favours that 
pass through Don Diego's hands ! On the other side, my 
blood chills about my heart, at the thought of these rogues 
with their hands pulling out my very entrails ! Hang it! for 
once, I'll trust my friends 1 " 

So Jack resolved ; but he had done more wisely to have 
put himself upon the trial of his country, and made his defence 
in form. Many things happen between the cup and the lip. 
Witnesses might have been bribed, juries managed, or 
prosecution stopped. 



par"t'nh"App!' ^1^2^ Jack's scruples at hanging himself. 369 

But so it was. Jack, for this time, had a sufficient stock of 
Implicit Faith, which led him to his ruin, as the sequel of the 
story shews. 

And now the fatal day was come, in which he was to try 
this hanging experiment. His friends did not fail him at the 
appointed hour, to see it put in practice. 

Habbakuk brought him a smooth strong tough rope made 
of many a ply of wholesome Scandinavian hemp, compactly 
twisted together, with a noose that slipped as ghb as a bird- 
catcher's gin. 

Jack shrank and grew pale at first sight of it. He handled 
it, measured it, stretched it, fixed it against the iron bar of 
the window to try its strength ; but no familiarity could 
reconcile him to it ! He found fault with the length, the thick- 
ness, and the twist : nay, the very colour did not please him! 

"Will nothing less than hanging serve?" quoth Jack. 
" Won't my enemies take bail for my good behaviour ? Will 
they accept of a fine, or be satisfied with the pillory and im- 
prisonment, a good sound whipping, or burning in the cheek ? " 

Habbakuk. Nothing but your blood will appease their 
rage ! Make haste, else we shall be discovered 1 There is 
nothing like surprising the rogues ! How they will be dis- 
appointed, when they hear that thou hast prevented their 
revenge, and hanged thine own self ! 

Jack. That is true ! but what if I should do it in effigies ? 
Is there never an old Pope or Pretender to hang up in my 
stead ? We are not so unlike but it may pass ! 

Habbakuk. That can never be put upon Sir Roger ! 

Jack. Are you sure he is in the next room ? Have you 
provided a very sharp knife in case of the worst ? 

Habbakuk. Dost thou take me for a common liar! Be 
satisfied no damage can happen to your person ! Your friends 
w»n take care of that ! 

Jack. Mayn't I quilt the rope ! It galls me strangely. 
Besides, I don't like this running knot ; it holds too tight ! I 
may be stifled all of a sudden ! 

Habbakuk. Thou hast so many " Ifs " and " Ands ! " 
Prithee, despatch ! it might have been over before this 
time ! 

Jack. But now I think on it, I would fain settle some 
affairs for fear of the worst : have a little patience ! 

2A 3 



70 Sir Roger will not cut Jack down, [pa^^'in^^p 



J. Arbuthnot, M.D. 
1712 



Habbakuk. There is no having patience : thou art such 
a fainting silly creature ! 

Jack." ' thou most detestable abominable Passive 
Obedience ! did I ever imagine I should become thy votary 
in so pregnant an instance ! How will my brother Martin 
laugh at this storv-, to see himself outdone in his own call- 
ing! He has taken the doctrine, and left me the practice ! 

No sooner had he uttered these words, but like a man of 
true courage, he tied the fatal cord to the beam, fitted the 
noose, and mounted upon the bottom of a Ttih, the inside of 
which he had often graced in his prosperous days. This 
footstool, Habbakuk kicked away; and left poor Jack swing- 
ing like the pendulum of Paul's clock. The fatal noose per- 
formed its office, and, with most strict ligature, squeezed the 
blood into his face, till it assumed a purple dye. 

While the poor man heaved from the \ery bottom of his 
belly for breath, Habbakuk walked with great deliberation 
into both the upper and lower room, to acquaint his friends ; 
who received the news with great temper [cqiianimiiy], and 
with jeers and scoffs instead of pity. 

"Jack has hanged himself! " quoth they, "let us go and 
see how the poor rogue swings ! " 

Then they called Sir Roger. 

" Sir Roger ! " quoth Habbakuk, " Jack has hanged him- 
self; make haste and cut him down \ " 

Sir Roger turned, first one ear, and then the other, noi 
understanding what he said. 

Habbakuk. I tell you. Jack has hanged himself up ! 

Sil* Roger. Who is hanged ? 

Habbakuk. Jack ! 

Sir Roger. I thought this had not been hanging day 1 

Habbakuk. But the poor fellow has hanged himself! 

Sir Roger. Then let him hang ! I don't wonder at it : 
the fellow has been mad these twenty years ! 

With this, he slank away. 

Then Jack's friends began to hunch and push one another. 
" Why don't you go and cut the poor fellow down ? " 
" WhV don't vou ? " 
And '^Whv don't vou?" 



Pan III. ■'■ ^A^x7L^"°:] ^'^R ^LL ANY OF HIS FPaEXDS. 37 I 

"Not I !" quoth one. 

" Not I ! " quoth another. 

" Not I ! ■' quoth a third, " he may hang till Doomsday 
before I relieve him ! '' 

Xay it is credibly reported that they were so far from 
succouring their poor friend in this his dismal circumstance, 
that Ptschirksooker and several of his companions went in 
and pulled him by the legs, and thumped him on the breast. 

Then they began to rail at him for the verj- thing which 
they had both advised and justified before ; viz., his getting 
into the old Gentlewoman's family, and putting on her livery. 

The Keeper who performed the last office, coming up, found 
Jack swinging %\-ith no life in him. He took dovm the body 
gently, and laid it on a bulk, and brought out the rope to the 
company. 

" This, Gentlemen ! is the rope that hanged Jack ! What 
must be done with it ? " 

Upon which, they ordered it to be laid among the curiosi- 
ties of Gresham College ; and it is called " Jack's rope " to 
this ver}- day. 

However. Jack, after all, had some small tokens of life in 
him : but lies, at this time, past hopes of a total recover}' ; with 
his head hanging on one shoulder, without speech or motion. 

The Coroner's Inquest supposing him dead, brought him 
in Xon Compos. 

CHAPTER I \' . 

Th: Conference between Don DiEGO DiSMALLO aivd JOHS 
Bull. 

'Urin'g the time of the foregoing transaction, Don 
Diego was entertaining John Bull. 

Don Diego. I hope, Sir, this day's proceedings 
will con\ince you of the sincerity of your old friend 
Diego, and the treachen.- of Sir Roger. 
John Bnll. What's the matter now? 
Don Diego. You have been endeavouring for several years, 
to have justice done upon that rogue Jack ; but, what through 
the remissness of Constables, Justices, and packed juries, he 
has alwa)"^ found the means to escape. 




372 Nottingham tries to curry favour, [p^^ In? Ap?: ]\'!^^' 

John Bull. What then ? 

Don Diego. Consider, then, who is your best friend, he 
that would have brought him to condign punishment, or he 
that has saved him ? By my persuasion, Jack had hanged 
himself, if Sir Roger had not cut him down ! 

John Bull. Who told you that Sir Roger has done so ? 

Don Diego. You seem to receive me coldly ! Methinks, 
my services deserve a better return ! 

John Bull. Since you value yourself upon hanging this 
poor scoundrel ; I tell you, when I have any more hanging 
work, I will send for thee ! I have some better employment 
for Sir Roger. In the meantime, 1 desire the poor fellow 
may be looked after. 

When he first came out of the North country into my 
Family, under the pretended name of Timothy Trim, the 
fellow seemed to mind his loom and his spinning-wheel till 
somebody turned his head. Then he grew so pragmatical, 
that he took upon him the government of my whole Family 
[the Commonwealth] . I could never order anything within or 
without doors ; but he must be always giving his counsel, 
forsooth ! Nevertheless, tell him I will forgive what is past! 
and if he would mind his business for the future, and not 
meddle out of his own sphere ; he will find that John Bull is 
not of a cruel disposition ! 

Don Diego. Yet all your skilful physicians say that 
nothing can recover your mother, but a piece of Jack's liver 
boiled in her soup ! 

John Bull. Those are Quacks ! My mother abhors such 
cannibal's food ! She is in perfect health at present. I would 
have given many a good pound to have had her so well, some 
time ago. 

There are indeed two or three troublesome old nurses, that 
because they believe I am tender-hearted, will never let me 
have a quiet night's rest, with knocking me up, " Oh, Sir ! 
your mother is taken extremely ill ! She is fallen into a 
fainting fit ! She has a great emptiness, and wants sus- 
tenance ! " [The Tory cry of " The Church is in danger ! "1 This 
is only to recommend themselves, for their great care. John 
Bull, as simple as he is, understands a little of a pulse. 

FINIS. 



LEWIS BABOON 

Turned Honest, 

AND 

JOHN BULL 

POLITICIAN. 

Being 

The Fourth Part 

F 

Law is a Bottomless Pit. 



Printed from a Manuscript found in the Cabinet 

of the famous Sir Huaiphry Poleswgrth.- 

and published (as well as the Three forjner 

Parts and Appendix^ by the Author of the 

New Atlantis. 



LONDON: Printedfor John Morphew, 
near Stationers' Hall, i 7 i 2 . Price 6d. 



375 




THE CONTENTS. 



Chap. I. The Sequel of the History of the Meeting at 

^/fg Salutation i5>. 381 

II. How John Bull and Nicholas Frog 

settled their accounts p- 3^5 

III. How John Bull found all his Family in an 

uproar at home p- 3^9 

IV. How Lewis Baboon came to visit John 

Bull, and what passed between them p. 392 

V. Nicholas Frog's letter to John Bull; 
wherein he endeavours to vindicate all his con- 
duct with relation to JOHN BULL and the 
Lawsuit i'- 395 

VI. The discourse that passed between Nicholas 
Frog and Esquire South, which John 
Bull overheard p. 397 



Z7^ 



The Contents. [ 



J. Arbuthnot, M.D 
Part IV. 28 July 1712" 



Chap. VII. The rest of Nicholas's fetches to keep 

John out of Ecclesdown Castle [Dunkirk] p. 400 

VIII. Of the great joy that John expressed when he 

got possession of Ecclesdown p. 403 




Z11 




THE PREFACE. 




j Hen I was first called to the Office of Historiographer 
to John Bull, he expressed himself to this purpose, 
" Sir Humphry ! I know you a^e a plain dealer I 
It is for that reason that I have chosen you for this 
important trust ! Speak the truth, and spare not I " 

That I might fulfil those his honourable intentions, I obtained 
leave to repair to, and attend him in his most secret retirements : 
and I put the Journals of all transactions into a strong box, to be 
opened at a fitting occasion ; after the manner of the Historio- 
graphers of some Eastern monarchs. This I thought was the safest 
way ; though I declare I was never afraid to be chopped [off] by 
my Master, for telling the truth. 

It is from those Journals, that my Memoirs are compiled. There- 
fore let not Posterity, a thousand years hence, look for truth in the 
voluminous Annals of pedants, who are entirely ignorant of the 
secret springs of great actions ! If they do, let me tell them, they 
will be nebused / 

With incredible pains have I endeavoured to copy the several beau- 
ties of the ancient and modern historians, the impartial temper of 
Herodotus, the gravity, austerity, and strict morals of Thucy- 
DIDES, the extensive knowledge of Xenophon, the sublimity and 
grandeur of TiTUS Livius ; and to avoid the careless style of 







yS Glorying in the Staa/p Act. [parfiv^'^'fjuiy'^yP.: 



POLYBIUS ! I have borrowed considerable ornaments from 
DiONYSlUS Harlicarnasseus and DiODORUS SicuLUS ! The 
specious gilding of Tacitus, I have endeavoured to shun ! 
Mariana, D'Avila, and Fra Paulo are those among the 
Moderns, whom I thought most worthy of imitation ; but I cannot 
be so disingenuous, as not to own the infinite obligations I have 
to the Pilgrim's Progress of John Bunyan, and the Tenter 
Belly of the Rev. Joseph Hall. 

From such encouragement and helps, it is easy to guess, to what 
a degree of perfection I might have brought this great Work, had 
it not been nipped in the bud, by some illiterate people in both 
Houses of Parliament: who, envying the great figure I was to make 
in future Ages, under pretence of raising money for the war, have 
padlocked [by the Stamp Act] all those very pens that were to 
celebrate the actions of their heroes, by silencing at once the whole 
University of Grub street. I am persuaded that nothing but the 
prospect of an approaching Peace could have encouraged them to 
make so bold a step. But suffer me, in the name of the rest of the 
Matriculates of that famous University, to ask them some plain 
questions. Do they think that Peace will bring along with it a Gol- 
den Age ? Will there be never a dying speech of a Traitor ? Are 
Cethegus and Cat aline turned so tame that there will be no 
opportunity to cry about the streets, " A dangerous Plot / " ? Will 
Peace bring such Plenty that no gentleman will have occasion to 
go upon the highway, or break into a house ? 

I am sorry that the World should be so much imposed upon, by 
the dreams of a false prophet, as to imagine the Millenium is at 
hand. Grub street ! thou fruitful nursery of towering geniuses ! 
how do I lament thy downfall ! Thy ruin could never be meditated 
by any who meant well to English Liberty ! No modern LyccBum 
will ever equal thy glory, whether in soft Pastorals thou sangst 
the flames of pampered apprentices and coy cookmaids, or mournful 



Par/iv.'^2?July^7S ScOFFING AT GrUB street WrITERS ! 379 

Ditties of departing lovers ! or if to Mceonian strains, thou raisedst 
thy voice, to record the stratagems, the arduous exploits, and the 
nocturnal scalade of needy heroes, the terror of your peaceful 
citizen! describing the powerful Betty, or the artful Picklock, 
or the secret caverns and grottoes ofVULCAN sweating at his forge 
and stamping the Queen's image on viler metals, which he retails 
for heef and pots of ale ! or if thou wert content in simple Narra- 
tive to relate the cruel acts of implacable revenge; or the complaints 
of ravished virgins blushing to tell their adventure before the 
listening crowd of City damsels : whilst, in thy faithfid History, 
tjiou interminglest the gravest counsels and the purest morals ! nor 
less acute and piercing wert thou in thy search and pompous 
description of the Works of Nature ; whether, in proper and empha- 
tic terms, thou didst paint the blazing comefs fiery tail, the 
stupendous force of dreadfid thunder and earthquakes, and the 
unrelenting inundations ! Sometimes, with Machiavellian sagacity, 
thou unravelledst the intrigues of State, and the traitorous con- 
spiracies of rebels ; giving wise counsel to Monarchs ! How didst 
thou move our terror and our pity with thy passionate scenes 
between Jack Catch and the heroes of the Old Bailey! how 
didst thou describe tJteir intrepid march up Holborn Hill ! Nor 
didst tliou shine less in tJiy Theological capacity, when thou gavest 
ghostly counsel to dying felons, and recorded the guilty pangs of 
Sabbath-breakers ! How will the noble Arts of John Overton's 
painting and sculpture now languish ! where rich invention, 
proper expression, correct design, divine altitudes, and artful con- 
trast, heightened with the beauties of Clar Obscur [Chiar obscuro] 
imbellish thy celebrated pieces, to the delight and astonishment of 
the judicious multitude ! 

Adieu, persuasive Eloquence! The quaint Metaphor, the 
poignant Irony, the proper Epithet, and the lively Simile are fled 
to Burleis[h on the Hill ! 



380 Mock Condolence WITH Grub street. [p{vt 



Arbuthnot, M.D. 
IV. July 1712. 



Instead of these, we shall have I know not what ! *' The 
* Vide [William illiterate Will tell the rest with pleasure.'"* 

Fleetwood] 

St AsAPH^s"*^ ^ ^^^P^ ^^^^ I^^'^der will excuse this digression, due, 

FofrslrlwHs]. ^^ "^^V ^f condoUnce, to my worthy brethren of 
Grub street, for the approaching barbarity that is likely to 
overspread all its regions, by this oppressive and exorbitant tax 
[the Stamp duty]. It has been my good fortune to receive 
my education there ; and so long as I preserved some figure 
and rank among the Learned of that Society, I scorned to take 
my degree either at Utrecht or Leyden, though I were offered it 
gratis by the Professors there. 




38i 




LEWIS BABOON 

Turned Honest, 



AND 



J 



U LL 



POLITICIAN. 



CHAPTER I. 

The Sequel of the History of the Meeting at the Salutation : 

Here, I think I left John Bull sitting 
between Nic. Frog and Lewis Baboon, 
with his arms akimbo, in great concern to 
keep Lewis and Nic. asunder. 

As watchful as he was, Nic. found means, 
now and then, to steal a whisper ; and, by a 
cleanly conveyance under the table, to slip a 
^ short note into Lewis's hand: which Lewis 
as slyly, put into John's pocket, with a pinch or a jog to 
warn him what he was about. 

John had the curiosity to retire into a corner, to peruse 




382 Story OF English help to Dutch. [par/iv.'^"JS;,'f/?f. 

these billet-doux of Nic.'s ; wherein he found that Nic. had 
used great freedoms, both with his Interest and reputation. 

One contained these words : 

Dear Lewis, 

Thou seest clearly that this blockhead can never bring his 
matters to bear ! Let thee and me talk to-night by ourselves at 
the Rose, and I will give thee satisfaction ! 

Another was thus expressed : 

Friend Lewis, 

Has thy sense quite forsaken thee, to make BuLL such offers ? 
Hold fast ! part with nothing ! and I will give thee a better 
bargain, I'll warrant thee ! 

In some of his billets, he told Lewis that John Bull 
was under his guardianship ! that the best part of his servants 
were at his command ! that he could have John gagged and 
bound, whenever he pleased, by the people of his own Family ! 

In all these epistles, blockhead ! dunce ! ass ! coxcomb ! were 
the best epithets he gave poor John. 

In others, he threatened that, he, Esquire South, and the 
rest of the Tradesmen [the Allies] loould lay Lewis down upon 
his back, and beat out his teeth, if he did not retire immediately, 
and break up the meeting ! 

I fancy I need not tell my reader that John often changed 
colour as he read, and that his fingers itched to give Nic. a 
good slap on the chops : but he wisely moderated his choleric 
temper. 

" I saved this fellow," quoth he, " from the gallows, when 
he ran away from his last master [the rise of the Dutch 
Republic with English help] ; because I thought he was 
harshly treated : but the rogue was no sooner safe under my 
protection, than he began to lie, pilfer, and steal, like the Devil ! 

" When I first set him up in a warm house ; he had hardly 
put up his Sign, when he began to debauch [entice] my best 
customers from me. Then it was his constant practice to 
rob my fish-ponds [Dutch fishing for herrings off the English 
coast] ; not only to feed his family, but to trade with the 
fishmongers. I connived at the fellow, till he began to tell 
me that ' they were his, as much as mine ! ' 

"In my Manor of Eastcheap \^East Indies], because it 



Paniv'^'^Jjuly^yS INGRATITUDE OF THE DuTCH. 383 

lay at some distance from my constant inspection, he broke 
down my fences, robbed my orchards, and beat my servants. 
When I used to reprimand him for his tricks ; he would 
talk saucily, lie, and brazen it out as if he had done nothing 
amiss. * Will nothing cure thee of these pranks, Nic. ? ' 
quoth I. * I shall be forced, some time or another, to chastise 
thee ! ' The rogue got up his cane and threatened me ; 
and was well thwacked for his pains [the wars with the Dutch 
in 1652, 1665, a7td 1671]. 

*' But I think his behaviour at this time, worst of all ! 
After I have almost drowned myself, to keep his head above 
water ; he would leave me sticking in the mud, trusting to 
his goodness to help me out 1 After I have beggared myself 
with this troublesome Lawsuit, he takes it in mighty dudgeon, 
because I have brought him here, to end matters amicably! 
and because I won't let him make me over, by deed and 
indenture, as his lawful cully [diipe] ! which to my certain 
knowledge, he has attempted several times. 

*' But, after all, canst thou gather grapes from thorns ? Nic. 
does not pretend to be a Gentleman ! He is a tradesman, 
a self-seeking wretch 1 But how comest thou to bear all 
this, John ? The reason is plain ; thou conferrest the 
benefits, and he receives them : the first produces love, and 
the last ingratitude. 

"Ah, Nic! thou art a dog, that is certain! Thou 
knowest too well, that I will take care of thee, else thou 
wouldst not use me thus. I won't give thee up, it is true : 
but, as true it is, that thou shalt not sell me, according to 
thy laudable custom ! " 

While John was deep in this soliloquy, Nic. broke out 
into the following protestation : 

** Gentlemen, 

I believe everybody here present, will allow me to be a 
very just and disinterested person. My friend John Bull 
here, is very angry with me ; forsooth, because I won't agree 
to his foolish bargains. Now I declare to all mankind, I 
should be ready to sacrifice my own concerns to his quiet ; 
but the care of his Interest and that of the honest Trades- 
men [the Allies] that are embarked with us, keeps me from 
entering into this Composition. What shall become of those 
poor creatures ? The thought of their impending ruin 



384 Unwillingness for Peace at UTRECHT.[i-af^l'^^^j'°[;,^;,^; 

disturbs my night's rest ! Therefore I desire they may 
speak for themselves. If they are wilHng to give up this 
affair, I shan't make two words of it ! " 

John Bull begged him to lay aside that immoderate 
concern for him : and withal, put him in mind that the 
Interest of those Tradesmen had not sat quite so heavy upon 
him, some years ago, on a like occasion, 

Nic. answered little to that, but immediately pulled out 
a boatswain's whistle. Upon the first whiff, the Tradesmen 
came jumping in the room, and began to surround Lewis 
like so many yelping curs about a great boar : or, to use a 
modester simile, like duns at a great Lord's levee, the morn- 
ing he goes into the country. One pulled him by the sleeve ! 
another by the skirt ! a third holloaed in his ear ! They 
began to ask him for all that had been taken from their fore- 
fathers, by stealth, fraud, force, or lawful purchase ! Some 
asked for Manors ! Others, for acres that lay convenient for 
them ! that he would pull down his fences ! level his ditches ! 
All agreed in one common demand, that he should be purged, 
sweated, vomited, and starved, till he came to a sizeable 
bulk like that of his neighbours. 

One modestly asked him leave to call him ** Brother ! " 
Nic. Frog demanded two things, to be his Porter and his 
Fishmonger ; to keep the keys of his gates, and furnish his 
kitchen. John's sister. Peg, only desired that he would let 
his servants [French Protestants] sing Psalms a Sundays. 
Some descended even to the asking of old clothes, shoes and 
boots, broken bottles, tobacco pipes, and ends of candles. 

" Monsieur Bull," quoth Lewis, "you seem to be a man 
of some breeding ! For God's sake ! use your Interest 
with these Messieurs, that they would speak but one at once ! 
for if one had a hundred pair of hands and as many tongues, 
he cannot satisfy them all, at this rate ! " 

John begged they might proceed with some method. 

Then they stopped all of a sudden, and would not say a 
word. 

" If this be your play," quoth John, " that we may not be 
like a Quaker's dumb meeting; let us begin some diversion! 
What do ye think of Rouly Pouly, or a Country Dance? 
What if we should have a match at football ? I am sure 
we shall never end matters at this rate ! " 




Partfv!'"24juVi^7?2j N IC. FrOG's FINANCIAL LEGERDEMAIN. 385 

CHAPTERII. 
How John Bull and Nicholas Frog settled their accounts. 

John Bull. In ^^IUring this general cessation of talk, 
what if you and I, Nic. ! should 
inquire how money matters stand 
between us ? 

Nic. Frog. With all my heart ! I love exact dealing; 
and let Hocus audit ! he knows how the money was dis- 
bursed. 

John Bull. I am not for that, at present ! We will settle 
it between ourselves ! Fair and square, Nic. ! keeps friends 
together. There have been laid out in this Lawsuit, at one 
time, 36,000 pounds and 40,000 crowns. In some cases, I, 
in others you, bear the greater proportion. 

Nic. Right ! I pay Three-fifths of the greater number; 
and you pay Two-thirds of the lesser number. I think this 
is " fair and square " as you call it. 

John. Well, go on ! 

Nic. Two-thirds of 36,000 pounds is 24,000 pounds for 
you'' share; and there remains 12,000 pounds. Again, of 
the 40,000 crowns, I pay 24,000 ; which is Three-fifths ; 
and you pay only 16,000, which is Two-fifths. 24,000 
crowns make 6,000 pounds, and 16,000 crowns make 4,000 
pounds : 12,000 and 6,000 make 18,000 ; 24,000 and 4,000 
make 28,000. So there are 18,000 pounds to my share of 
the expenses, and 28,000 pounds to yours." 

After Nic. had bamboozled John a while about the 18,000 
and the 28,000 ; John called for counters. But what with 
sleight of hand, and taking from his own score and adding 
to John's, Nic. wrought the balance always on his own 
side. 

John Bull. Nay, good friend Nic, though I am not quite 
so nimble in the figures, I understand ciphering as well as 
you ! I will produce my accounts one by one, fairly written 
out of my own books. 

And here I begin with the first. You must excuse me, 
if I don't pronounce the Law terms right. 

2B .^ 



386 JoHxN Bulls Account of the WAR.[pJi^:^",fj"°;;,^,-^: 
John reads. 



Fees to the Lord Chief Justice and other Judges, 

by way of dividend 

Fees to /'wzsw^ Judges 

To Esquire South, ior post Termmums 



To 
To 

To 



To Hocus, 
To ditto 

To ditto 



ditto ior N on est factums 

ditto for Discontinuance, Noli pro 

sequi, and Retraxit 

ditto for a Non Omittas, and fil 

\ng 3i post Diem 

for a Dediinus protestatem .. 
for Casas and Fifas after a 

Devastavit 

for a Capias ad compu 
tanduni 

To Frog's New tenants [the Barrier towns], 
per Account to Hocus, 

for A udita querelas 

On the said Account, for 
Writs of Ejectment and 
Destringas 

To Esquire South's quota for a Return of a 
Non est inventus and nulla 
habet bona 

To for a Pardon in forma pau- 
peris 

To Jack for a Melius inquirendum 
upon a Felo de se 

To Don Diego for a Deficit 

To Coach hire 

For treats to Juries and Witnesses 



£ 


S. 


d. 


200 


10 


6 


50 








100 


10 


6 


200 









80 10 6 



50 
300 

500 



100 10 



200 o o 



300 o 



150 


10 





200 








100 








50 








500 








300 









Sum ^^3,382 12 o 

Due by Nic. Frog ;£"i,69I 6 o 
Of which, paid by Nic. Frog 1,036 11 o 



Remains due by Nic. Frog £"654 15 o 



J'a^iv.''juiy^7".] Frog's CONTRA Account OF the same. 387 

Then Nic. Frog pulled out his bill out of his pocket, and 
began to read 

Nicholas Frog's Account. 

Remains to be deducted out of the former Account : £ S. d. 

To Hocus for Entries of a JR^g'^ mcoMsw/^o ... 200 o o 

To John Bull's Nephew [the Old Pretender] for 

a Venire Facias : the money not 

yet all laid out 300 o o 

The coach hire for my wife and family, and the 
carriage of my goods during the time of this 

Lawsuit 

For the extraordinary expenses of feeding my 

family, during this Lawsuit 

To Major Ab 

To Major Will 

Sum ;^i,7oo 10 6 
From which deduct 1,691 6 o 

There remains due to Nic. Frog ^^9 4 6 



200 


10 


b 


500 








300 








200 









Besides ; recollecting, I believe I paid for Diego's Deficit. 

John Bull. As for your Venire facias, I have paid you for 
one already ! In the other, I believe you will be nonsuited. 
I'll take care of my nephew myself. Your coach hire and 
family charges are most unreasonable deductions ! At that 
rate, I can bring in any man in the world, my debtor ! But 
who, the Devil ! are those two Majors that consume all my 
money ? I find they always run away with the balance in 
all accounts. 

Nic. Frog. Two very honest Gentlemen, I assure you! that 
have done me some service. 

To tell you plainly, Major Ab. denotes thy " greater Abi- 
lity," and Major Will., thy "greater Willingness," to carry 
on this Lawsuit. It was but reasonable, thou shouldst pay 
both for thy Power and thy Positiveness ! 

John Bull. I believe I shall have those two honest Majors' 
discount on my side, in a little time. 

Nic. Frog. Why all this higgling with thy friend, about 



388 England should not waitfor Allies I[^;^iv!^^''y?7i°* 

such a paltrj' sum ? Does this become the generosity of the 
noble and rich John Bull ? I wonder thou art not ashamed! 
Hocus ! Hocus ! where art thou ? It used to go another- 
guess manner in thy time ! When a poor man has almost 
undone himself for thy sake ; thou art for fleecing him, and 
fleecing him 1 Is that thy conscience, John ? 

John Bull. Ver\- pleasant indeed ! It is well known thou 
retainest thy Lawyers by the year ; so that a fresh Lawsuit 
adds but little to thy expense. They are thy customers : I 
hardly ever sell them a farthing's worth of an\i:hing ! Nay, 
thou hast set up an eating-house, where the whole tribe of 
them spend all they can rap or run 'i.e., all the ready money they 
can chink, and all the credit they can run]. If it were well 
reckoned, I believe thou gettest more of my money than thou 
spendest of thy own. However, if thou wilt needs plead 
poverty, own at least that thy Accounts are false. 

Nic. Frog. No, many- ! won't I ! I refer myself to these 
honest Gentlemen 'the Tradesmen, i.e., the Allies] [ Let them 
judge between us ! Let Esquire South speak his mind, 
Whether my accounts are not right ? and Whether we ought 
not to go on with the Lawsuit ? 

John Bull. Consult the butchers about keeping of Lent! I 
tell you, once for all, John Bull knows where his shoe 
pinches. None of your Esquires shall give him the law, as 
long as he wears this trusty weapon by his side, or has an 
inch of broad-cloth in his shop ! 

Nic. Frog. W^hy, there it is! You w411 be Judge and 
Party 1 I am sorry thou discoverest so much of thy headstrong 
humour before these strange Gentlemen ! I have often told 
you, that it would prove thy ruin some time or another ! 

John saw clearly he should have nothing but wrangling ; 
and that he should have as little success in settling his ac- 
counts as in ending the Composition. 

" Since they wnll needs overload my shoulders," quoth 
John, "I shall throw down the burden with a squash amongst 
them ; take it up who dares ! A man has a fine time of it, 
among a combination of sharpers that vouch for one another's 
honesty ! John, look to thyself ! Old Lewis makes reasonable 
offers ! When thou hast spent the small pittance that is left, 
thou wilt make a glorious figure, when thou art brought to 



pan^i^'^^iy ^7*^] -"Agitation as to he Succession. 389 

live upon Xic, Frog's and Esquire South's generosity and 
gratitude. If they use thee thus, when they want thee ; what 
will they do, when thou wantest them ? I say again, John 
look to thyself I ' ' 

John ^^^sely stifled his resentments; and told the company 
that, " in a little time, he should give them law, or some- 
thing: better I " 

All . Law I Law ; Sir, by all means ! What are twent}- 
two poor years tovsards the finishing a Lawsuit ? For the 
love of God ! more Law, Sir ! 

John Bull. Prepare your demands, how many years 
more of Law you want I that I may order my affairs accord- 
ingly. In the meanwhile, farewell ! 

CHAPTER III. 
Hc'j: jOHS Bull found all '::s Family in an uproar at home. 

Ic. Frog (who thought of nothing but of carrying 
John to the market, and there disposing of him as 
his o%\Ti proper goods) was mad to find that John 

= thought himself now of age to look after his own 
af"?-::?. Ke resolved to traverse this new project, and to 
make hir/. ur.easy in his owii Family. He had corrupted or 
deluded most of his ser\-ants into the most extravagant con- 
ceits in the world, that their Master was run mad ! and wore 
a dags'er in one pocket, and poison in the other ! he had sold 
his %%Tte and children to LEwns I disinherited his heir I and 
was going to settle his estate upon a parish bo)- ! that if they 
did not look after their Master, he would do some ver\- 
mischievous thing ! 

When John came home, he found a more surprising scene 
than any he had yet met with 'Jhi national exciUuuni as to the 
Hanoverian Succession': ; and that, you vdll say, was somewhat 
extraordinan.'. 

He called his cook-maid Betty to bespeak his dinner. 

Betty told him that " she begged his pardon, she could 
not dress dinner till she knew what he intended to do -w-ith 
his Will [tJie Act of Settknunt, ensuring the Hanoverian 
Succession] ! " 




390 John Bull's servants gone mad ! [par/iv.'''2Wuiy^7": 

" Why, Betty, forsooth, thou art not run mad ! art thou ? 
My will at present, is to have dinner." 

" That may be," quoth Betty, " but my conscience won't 
allow me to dress it, till I know whether you intend to do 
righteous things by your heir [the Princess Sophia] ? " 

" I am sorry for that, Betty ! " quoth John, ** I must find 
somebody else then ! " 

Then he called John the barber. 

" Before I begin," quoth John, " I hope your Honour 
won't be offended, if I ask you. Whether you intend to alter 
your Will ? If you won't give me a positive answer, your 
beard may grow down to your middle, for me ! " 

*' I gad, and so it shall ! " quoth Bull, " for I will never 
trust my throat in such a mad fellow's hands ! " 

" Where is Dick the butler ? " 

" Look ye ! " quoth Dick, " I am very willing to serve you 
in my calling, do ye see ! but there are strange reports, and 
plain dealing is best, do you see ! I must be satisfied if you 
intend to leave all to your nephew, and if Nic. Frog is still 
your executor, do you see ! If you will not satisfy me as to 
these points, do you see ! you may drink with the ducks ! * 

" And so I will ! " quoth John, " rather than keep a butler 
that loves my heir better than myself." 

Hob the shoemaker and Pricket the tailor told him that 
they " would most willingly serve him in their several 
stations, if he would promise them, never to talk with Lewis 
Baboon, and let Nicholas Frog, linendraper, manage his 
concerns!" that they "could neither make shoes nor clothes to 
any that were not in good correspondence with their worthy 
friend Nicholas." 

John Bull. Call Andrew my journeyman ! How go 
affairs, Andrew ? I hope the Devil has not taken possession 
of thy body too ! 

Andrew. No, Sir! I only desire to know, what you 
would do if you were dead ? 

John Bull. Just as other dead folks do, Andrew ! 

[Aside. This is amazing 

Andrew. I mean if your nephew shall inherit your 
estate ? 

John Bull. That depends upon himself! I shall do 
nothing to hinder him 1 



par/iv'''"4^juiy^7i^.] Nottingham's SPEECH OF Sorites. 391 

Andrew. But will you make it sure ? 

John Bull. Thou meanest that I should put him in 
possession ; for I can make no surer without that ! He has 
all the Law can give him ! 

Andrew. Indeed, Possession, as you say, would make it 
much surer. They say " it is eleven points of the Law ! " 

John began now to think they were all enchanted. He 
inquired about the age of the moon ? if Nic. had not given 
them some intoxicating potion ? or if old mother Jenlsa 
was not still alive ? 

" No, on my faith ! " quoth Harry, " I believe there is no 
potion in the case but a little auruui potahile. You will 
have more of this, by and by ! " 

He had scarce spoken the word, when, of a sudden, Don 
Diego, followed by a great multitude of his tenants and 
workpeople, came rushing into the room. 

Don Diego. Since those worthy persons, who are as m.uch 
concerned for your safety as I am, have employed me as their 
Orator ; I desire to know whether you will have it, by way 
of Syllogism, Enthymeme [a syllogism drawn from prohahle 
premisses, and which therefore does not pretend to be demonstrative], 
Dilemma [an argument in which the adversary is caught between 
two difficidties], or Sorites [a heap of syllogisms, the conclusion 
of the one forming the premiss of the next] . 

John now began to be diverted with their extravagance. 

John Bull. Let us have a Sorites, by all means ! though 
they are all new to me ! 

Don Diego. It is evident to all that are versed in history, 
that there were two sisters that played the whore two thou- 
sand years ago: therefore it follows, that it is not lawful for 
John Bull to have any manner of intercourse with Lew^s 
Baboon. If it is not lawful for John Bull to have any manner 
of intercourse (correspondence if you will ! that is much the 
same thing 1) ; then, a fortiori, it is much more unlawful for 
the said John to make over his wife and children to the said 
Lewis. If his wife and children are not to be made over, he 
is not to wear a dagger and ratsbane in his pockets. If he 
wears a dagger and a ratsbane, it must be to do mischief to 
himself or somebody else. If he intends to do mischief, he 



392 John Bull becomes a Politician. [pj\y'^''^^fuiy^,?,: 

ought to be under Guardians : and there are none so fit as 
myself and some other worthy persons, who have a commis- 
sion for that purpose from Nic. Frog, the Executor of his 
Will and Testament. 

John Bull. And this is your Sorites, you say ! 

With that, he snatched a good oaken cudgel, and began to 
brandish it. Then happy was the man that was first at the 
door ! Crowding to get out, they tumbled down stairs : and 
it is credibly reported, some of them dropped very valuable 
things in the hurry, which were picked up by others of the 
Family. 

•' That any of these rogues," quoth John, " should imagine, 
I am not as much concerned as they, about having my affairs 
in a settled condition ; or that I would wrong my heir, for I 
know not what ! Well, Nic. ! I really cannot but ap- 
plaud thy diligence ! I must own this is really a pretty sort 
of a trick ; but it shan't do thy business, for all that 1 " 



CHAPTER IV. 

How Lewis Baboon came to visit John Bull, and what 
passed between them. 

Think it is but ingenuous to acquaint the reader, 
that this chapter was not written by Sir Humphry 
himself, but by another very able Pen of the Uni- 
versity of Grub street. 

John had, by some good instructions that were given him, 
got the better of his choleric temper ; and wrought himself 
up to a great steadiness of mind to pursue his own Interest 
through all impediments that were thrown in the way. He 
began to leave off some of his old acquaintance, his roaring 
and bullying about the streets. He put on a serious air, 
knitted his brows : and, for a time, had made a very con- 
siderable progress in politics ; considering that he had been 
kept a stranger to his own affairs. However, he could not 
help discovering some remains of his nature, when he 
happened to meet with a foot-ball, or a match at cricket : for 
which Sir Roger was sure to take him to task. 




kn'iv.''juiy'lf7"GP^0P°-''^L''' FROM French Government, ^g^ 

John was walking about his room, with folded arms and ^ 
most thoughtful countenance, when his servant brought him 
word, that one Lewis Baboon, below, wanted to speak with him . 

John had got an impression that Lewis was so deadly a 
cunning a man, that he was afraid to venture himself alone 
with him. At last, he took heart of grace. " Let him come 
up," quoth he, *' it is but sticking to my point, and he can 
never overreach me ! " 

Lewis Baboon. Monsieur Bull ! I will frankly acknow- 
ledge that my behaviour to my neighbours has been some- 
what uncivil ; and I believe you will readily grant me ! that 
I have met with usage accordingly. I was fond of backsword 
and cudgel-play from my youth ; and I now bear in my body, 
many a black and blue gash and scar, God knows ! I had 
as good a warehouse and as fair possessions as any of my 
neighbours, though I say it ! but a contentious temper, 
flattering servants, and unfortunate stars, have brought me 
into circumstances that are not unknown to you. 

These my misfortunes are heightened by domestic calami- 
ties that I need not relate. I am a poor old battered fellow; 
and I would willingly end my days in peace ! But, alas, I 
see but small hopes of that ! for every new circumstance 
affords an argument to my enemies to pursue their revenge ! 
Formerly, I was to be banged, because I was too strong ; 
and now, because I am too weak to resist ! I am to be 
brought down, when too rich; and oppressed, when too poor! 
Nic. Frog has used me like a scoundrel ! You are a Gentle- 
man, and I freely put myself in your hands, to dispose of me 
as you think fit. 

John BulL Look you. Master Baboon ! as to your usage 
of your neighbours, you had best not dwell too much upon 
that chapter ! let it suffice, at present, that you have been 
met with. You have been rolling a great stone uphill all 
your life ; and, at last, it has come tumbling down till it is 
like[ly] to crush you to pieces. 

Plain dealing is best. If you have any particular mark, 
Monsieur Baboon ! whereby one may know when you fib, 
and when you speak truth ; you had best tell it me ! that one 
may proceed accordingly. But since, at present, I know of 
none such, it is better that you should trust me, than that I 
should trust you ! 



394 Dunkirk, a security for the Peace. [p{rtiv^^^%\'y^7^,: 

Lewis Baboon. I know of no particular mark of veracity 
amongst us Tradesmen, but Interest : and it is manifestly 
mine, not to deceive you at this time. You may safely trust 
me, I can assure you ! 

John Bull. The trust I give is, in short, this. I must 
have something in hand, before I make the bargain ; and the 
rest, before it is concluded. 

Lewis Baboon. To shew you I deal fairly, name your 
something ! 

John Bull. I need not tell thee, old boy! thou canst 
guess ! 

Lewis Baboon. Ecclesdown Castle, I'll warrant you ! 
because it has been formerly in your family ! [Dunkirk, sold 
by Charles II. to France, in 1662, for ^500,000]. Say no 
more, you shall have it ! 

John Bull. I shall have it to mine own self ! 

Lewis Baboon. To thine own self ! 

John Bull. Every wall, gate, room, and inch of Eccles- 
down Castle, 5^ou say ! 

Lewis Baboon. Just so ! 

John Bull. Every single stone of Ecclesdown Castle to 
mine own self, speedily ! 

Lewis Baboon. When you please ! What need more 
words ! 

John Bull. But tell me, old boy ! hast thou laid aside all 
thy Equivocals and Mentals [reservations] in this case ? 

Lewis Baboon. There is nothing like matter of fact. 
Seeing is believing. 

John Bull. Now thou talkest to the purpose! let us shake 
hands, old boy ! Let me ask thee one question more ! What 
hast thou to do with the affairs of my Family, to dispose of 
my estate, old boy ? 

Lewis Baboon. Just as much as you have to do with the 
affairs of Lord Strutt ! 

John Bull. Ay, but my trade, my very being was concerned 
in that I 

Lewis Baboon. And my Interest was concerned in the 
other. But let us drop both our pretences ! for I believe it is 
a moot point whether I am more likely to make a Master 
Bull ; or you, a Lord Strutt. 

John Bull. Agreed, old boy ! but then I must have 



Parfiv'^"!fjuly^7°'] DuTCH EFFORTS AGAINST THE PeACE. 395 

security that I shall carry my broadcloth to market, old 
boy! 

Lewis Baboon. That you shall ! Ecclesdown Castle ! 
Ecclesdown, remember that ! Why wouldst thou not take 
it, when it was offered thee, some years ago ? 

John Bull. I would not take it, because they told me thou 
wouldst not give to me ! 

Lewis Baboon. How could Monsieur Bull be so gross 
abused by downright nonsense ! They that advised you to 
refuse, must have believed I intended to give ! else why 
would they not make the experiment ? But I can tell you 
more of that matter, than perhaps you know at present. 

John Bull. But what sayst thou as to the Esquire, Nic. 
Frog, and the rest of the Tradesmen [the Allies]? I must 
take care of them. 

Lewis Baboon. Thou hast but small obligations to Nic, 
to my certain knowledge. He has not used me like a 
Gentleman ! 

John Bull. Nic, indeed, is not very nice in your punctilios 
of ceremony : he is clownish, as a man may say. Belching 
and calling of names have been allowed him, time out of 
mind, by prescription. But however, we are engaged in 
one common cause, and I must look after him. 

Lewis Baboon. All matters that relate to him and the 
rest of the Plaintiffs in this Lawsuit, I will refer to youi 
justice ! 

CHAPTER V. 

Nicholas Frog's letter to John Bull; wherein he en- 
deavours to vindicate all his conduct with relation to John BULL 
and the Lawsuit. 

Ic. perceived now that his cully [dupe] had eloped, 
that John intended henceforth to deal without a 
broker ; but he was resolved to leave no stone 
unturned to recover his bubble. 
Among other artifices, he wrote a most obliging letter, 
which he sent him printed in a fair character [type]. 

Dear friend, 

When I consider the late ill usage I have met with from yoUf 




396 Frog's fair seeming letter. [vJiy'^ITA^?^^'- 

I am reflecting, What it was that could provoke you to it ? but 
upon a narrow inspection into my conduct, I can find nothing to 
reproach myself with, but too partial a concern for your Interest. 
You no sooner set this Composition afoot, hut I was ready to 
comply, and prevented [anticipated] your every wishes : and the 
Affair might have been ended before now, had it not been for the 
greater concerns of Esquire South and the other poor creatures 
embarked in the same common Cause, whose safety touches me to 
the quick. 

You seemed a little jealous that I had dealt unfairly with you 
in money matters, till it appeared, by your own accounts, that 
there was something due to me upon the balance. 

Having nothing to answer to so plain a demonstration, you 
began to complain as if I had been familiar with your reputation : 
when it is well known, not only /, but the meanest servant in my 
family, talk of you with the utmost respect. I have always, as far 
as in me lies, exhorted your servants and tenants to be dutiful: not 
that I any ways meddle in your domestic affairs, which were very 
unbecoming for me to do. If some of your servants express their 
great concern for you in a manner that is not so polite, you ought 
to impute it to their extraordinary zeal, which deserves a reward 
rather than a reproof. 

You cannot reproach me for want of success at the Salutation ; 
since I am not master of the passions and Interests of other folks. 
I have beggared myself with this Lawsuit, undertaken merely in 
complaisance to you ! and, if you would have had but a little 
patience, I had greater things in reserve that I intended to have 
done for you. 

I hope what I have said will prevail with you to lay aside 
your unreasonable jealousies; and that we may have no more 
meetings at the Salutation, spending our time and money to no 
purpose. My concern for your welfare and prosperity almost 
makes me mad ! You may be assured, I will continue to be. 
Your affectionate friend and servant, 

Nicholas Frog, 

John received this with a good deal of sang froid. 
** Transeat," quoth John, " cum coeteris erroribus ! " 
He was now at his ease. He saw he could now make a 

very good bargain for himself, and a very safe one for other 

folks. 



Pa«iv.'X''juiy^7°:] ^^^G ROGUiNG Esquire South. 397 

" My shirt," quoth he, " is near me, but my skin in nearer ! 
Whilst I take care of the welfare of other folks, nobody can 
blame me for applying a little balsam to my own sores ! It 
is a pretty thing, after all, for a man to do his own business : 
a man has such a tender concern for himself, there is nothing 
like it ! This is somewhat better, I trow ! that for John 
Bull to be standing in the market like a great dray horse, 
with Frog's paws upon his head, ' What will ye give me for 
this beast ?' 

" Serviteiir Nic. Frog ! though John Bull has not read 
your Aristotles, Platos, and Machiavellis, he can see as 
far into a millstone as another ! " With that, John began to 
chuckle and laugh, till he was like to burst his sides. 



CHAPTER VI. 

The discourse that passed between Nicholas Frog and 
Esquire SOUTH, which John Bull overheard. 

Ohn thought every minute a year till he got into 
Ecclesdown Castle. He repaired to the Salu- 
tation, with a design to break matter the gently 
to his partners. Before he entered, he overheard 
Nic. and the Esquire in a very pleasant conference. 
Esquire South. O the ingratitude and injustice of man- 
kind ! That John Bull, whom I have honoured with my 
friendship and protection so long, should flinch at last ; and 
pretend that he can disburse no more money for me ! that 
the family of the Souths, by his sneaking temper, should be 
kept out of their own ! 

Nic. Frog. An [if] it like your Worship ! I am in amaze 

at it ! I think the rogue should be compelled to do his duty 

Esquire South. That he should prefer his scandalous 

self, the dust and dregs of the earth, to the prosperity and 

grandeur of my family ! 

Nic. Frog. Nay, he is mistaken there too! for he would 
quickly lick himself whole again, by his vails [tips]. It is 
strange he should prefer Lewis Baboon's custom to Esquire 
South's. 

Esquire South. As you say, that my clothier, that is to 




398 The Allies will not have a Peace.[ 



J. Arbuthnot, M.D. 
Part IV. 24 July 1712. 



get so much by the purchase, should refuse to put me in 
possession ! Did you ever know any man's tradesmen serve 
him so before ? 

Nic. Frog. No, indeed, an it please your Worship ! it is 
a very unusual proceeding ! and I would not have been guilty 
of it for the world ! If your Honour had not a great stock 
of moderation and patience, you would not bear it so well as 
you do ! 

Esquire South. It is most intolerable, that is certain, 
Nic. ! and I will be revenged ! 

Nic. Frog. Methinks, it is strange that Philip Baboon's 
tenants [the Spaniards] do not all take your Honour's part, 
considering how good and gentle a master you are ! 

Esquire South. True, Nic. ! but few are sensible of merit 
in this world. It is a great comfort to have so faithful a 
friend as thyself in so critical a juncture. 

Nic. Frog. If all the world should forsake you, be assured 
Nic. Frog never will ! Let us stick to our point, and we 
will manage Bull, I'll warrant ye ! 

Esquire South. Let me kiss thee, dear Nic. ! I have 
found one honest man among a thousand at last ! 

Nic. Frog. If it were possible, your Honour has it in your 
power to wed me still closer to your interest ! 

Esquire South. Tell me quickly, dear Nic. ! 

Nic. Frog. You know I am your tenant. The difference 
between my lease and an inheritance is such a trifle, as I am 
sure you will not grudge your poor friend ! That will be an 
encouragement to go on ! Besides, it will make Bull as 
mad as the Devil. You and I shall be able to manage him 
then, to some purpose ! 

Esquire South. Say no more ! It shall be done, Nic. ! 
to thy heart's content ! 

John, all this while, was listening to this comical dialogue ; 
and laughed heartily in his sleeve, at the pride and simplicity 
of the Esquire, and the sly roguery of his friend Nic. 

Then, of a sudden, bolting into the room, he began to tell 
them that he believed he had brought Lewis to reasonable 
terms, if they would be pleased to hear them. 

Then they all bawled out aloud, "No Composition! Long 
live Esquire South and the Law ! " 

As John was going to proceed, some roared, some stamped 



Pa^t^v"'''Jul;^7-:] BuLL SAYS " Us," AS Frog had done. 399 

with their feet, and others stopped their ears with their 
fingers. 

"Nay, Gentlemen," quoth John, "if you will but stop 
your proceeding for a while, you shall judge yourselves 
whether Lewis's proposals are reasonable. 

All. Very fine indeed ! Stop proceeding, and so loose a 
Term [a campaign], 

John Bull. Not so, neither ! We have something by 
way of advance. He will put us in possession of his Manor 
and Castle of Ecclesdown. 

Nic. Frog. What dost thou talk of Us, thou meanest 
thyself! 

John Bull. When Frog took possession of anything, it 
was always said to be for Us ; and why may not John Bull 
be Us, as well as Nic. Frog was Us ? I hope John Bull is 
no more confined to Singularity than Nic. Frog ! or take it 
so, the constant doctrine that Thou hast preached up, for 
many years, was that thou and I are One ; and why must 
we be supposed Two in this case, that were always One 
before? It is impossible thou and I can fall out, Nic! we 
must trust one another ! I have trusted thee with a great 
many things ; prithee, trust me with this one trifle ! 

Nic. Frog. That principle is true in the main ; but there 
is some speciality in this case that makes it highly incon- 
venient for us both. 

John Bull. Those are your jealousies, that common 
enemies sow between us. How often hast thou warned me 
of those rogues, Nic. ! that would make us mistrustful of one 
another ? 

Nic. Frog. This Ecclesdown Castle is only a bone of 
contention ! 

John Bull. It depends upon you to make it so ! For my 
part, I am as peaceable as a lamb. 

Nic. Frog. But do you consider the unwholesomeness of 
the air and soil, the expenses of reparations and servants ! I 
would scorn to accept of such a quagmire ! 

John Bull. You are a great man, Nic. ! but in my 
circumstances, I must be even content to take it as it is. 

Nic Frog. And are you really so silly as to believe the old 
cheating rogue will give it you ! 

John Bull. I believe nothing but matter of fact. I stand 
and fall by that ! I am resolved to put him to it. 



400 Frog's devices to move John Bull. [par^jtv^",\Yuiy^7x^- 

Nic. Frog. And so relinquish the hopefullest Cause in 
the world ! a claim that will certainly, in the end, make thy 
fortune for ever ! 

John Bull. Wilt thou purchase it, Nic. ? Thou shalt have 
a bumping pennyworth ! Nay, rather than we should differ, 
I'll give thee something to take it off my hands ! 

Nic. Frog. If thou wouldst but moderate that hasty im- 
patient temper of thine, thou shouldst quickly see a better 
thing than all that ! What shouldst thou think to find old 
Lewis turned out of his paternal estates and mansion house 
of Clay Pool [Paris] ? Would not that do thy heart good, 
to see thy old friend Nic. Frog, Lord of Clay Pool ? Then 
thou and thy wife and children shall walk in my gardens, buy 
toys, drink lemonade ; and now and then we should have a 
country dance. 

John Bull. I love to be plain. I'd as lief see myself in 
Ecclesdown Castle, as thee in Clay Pool ! I tell you again, 
Lewis gives this as a pledge of his sincerity : if you won't 
stop proceeding, to hear him, I will ! 



CHAPTER VII. 

The rest of Nicholas's fetches to keep John out of Eccles- 
down Castle. 

Hen Nic. could not dissuade John by argument, he 
tried to move his pity. He pretended to be sick and 
likely to die ; that he should leave his wife and 
children in a starving condition, if John did abandon 
him ; that he was hardly able to crawl after such a trouble- 
some business as this Lawsuit : and therefore begged that his 
good friend would not leave him ! 

When he saw that John was still inexorable, he pulled out 
a case-knife, with which he used to sneaker-snee; and threatened 
to cut his own throat. Thrice he aimed the knife to his 
windpipe with a most determined threatening air. " What 
signifies life ! " quoth he, " in this languishing condition ? It 
will be some pleasure that my friends will revenge my death 
upon this barbarous man, that has been the cause of it ! " 
All this while, John looked sedate and calm, neither offering 




pl"ruv!"'juiy'i5'3 Bull struggles to protect Baboon. 401 

in the least to snatch the knife, nor stop his blow ; trusting 
to the tenderness Nic. had for his own person. 

When he perceived that John was immoveable in his pur- 
pose, he applied himself to Lewis. 

" Art thou," quoth he, " turned bubble [a deluder] in thy 
old age, from being a sharper in thy youth ? What occasion 
hast thou to give up Ecclesdown Castle to John Bull ? his 
friendship is not worth a rush ! Give it me, and I'll make it 
worth thy while ! If thou dislikest that proposition, keep it 
thyself ! I had rather thou shouldst have it, than he ! If 
thou hearkenest not to my advice, take what follows. Esquire 
South and I will go on with the Lawsuit in spite of John 
Bull's teeth ! " 

Lewis Baboon. Monsieur Bull has used me like a Gentle- 
man ! and I am resolved to make good my promise, and trust 
him for the consequences. 

Nic. Frog. Then I tell thee thou art an old doating fool ! 

With that, Nic. bounced up with a spring equal to that of 
one of your nimblest tumblers or rope dancers, falls foul upon 
John Bull to snatch the cudgel he had in his hand, that he 
might thwack Lewis with it. John held it fast, so that there 
was no wrenching it from him. At last Esquire South 
buckled to, to assist his friend Nic. 

John hauled on one side, and they two on the other. 
Sometimes they were like to pull John over : then it went, 
all of a sudden, again on John's side. So they went see- 
sawing up and down, from one end of the room to the other. 
Down tumbled the tables, bottles, glasses, and tobacco pipes. 
The wine and the tobacco were all spilt about the room ; and 
the little fellows were almost trod under foot : till more of the 
Tradesmen [Allies] joining with Nic. and the Esquire, John 
was hardly able to pull against them all. Yet he never quitted 
hold of his trusty cudgel ; which by the contranitent force of 
two so great Powers broke short in his hands. 

Nic. seized the longer end, and with it began to bastinado 
old Lewis: who had slank into a corner, waiting the event 
of this squabble. Nic. came up to him with an insolent, 
menacing air ; so that the old fellow was forced to scuttle out 
of the room, and retire behind a dung-cart. He called to 
Nic. " Thou insolent jackanapes ! Time was when thou 
durst not have used me so! Thou now takest me unprovided, 

2C 3 



402 England should make a separate Peace! [plvflv"'!""'! 

but old and infirm as I am, I shall find a weapon, by and by, 
to chastise thy impudence ! " 

When John Bull had recovered his breath, he began to 
parley with Nic. " Friend Nic. ! I am glad to find thee so 
strong after thy great complaints ! Really thy motions, Nic. ! 
are pretty vigorous for a consumptive man ! As for thy 
worldly affairs, Nic. ! if it can do thee any service, I freely 
make over to thee this profitable Lawsuit; and I desire all these 
Gentlemen to bear witness to this my act and deed, yours be 
all the gain ! as mine have been the charges. I have brought 
it to bear finely ! However, all I have laid out upon it goes 
for nothing ; thou shalt have it with all its appurtenances ! I 
ask nothing but leave to go home ! 

Nic. Frog. The Counsel are fee-ed, and all things prepared 
for a trial : thou shalt be forced to stand the issue ! It shall 
be pleaded in thy name as well as mine ! Go home, if thou 
canst ! The gates are shut, the turnpikes locked, and the 
roads barricadoed [Dutch refusal to admit English goods in the 
district of the Barrier towns] . 

John Bull. Even these very ways, Nic. ! that thou toldest 
me, " were as open to me as thyself ! " If I can't pass with 
my own equipage, what can I expect for my goods and 
waggons ? I am denied passage through those very grounds, 
that I have purchased with my own money ! However, I 
am glad I have made the experiment, it may serve me in some 
stead. 

John Bull was so overjoyed that he was going to take 
possession of Ecclesdown, that nothing could vex him, 
" Nic. ! " quoth he, " I am just going to leave thee ! cast a 
kind look upon me at parting ! " 

Nic. looked sour and glum, and would not open his mouth. 

John Bull. I wish thee all the success that thy heart can 
desire ! and that these Gentlemen of the long robe may have 
their bellyful of Law ! 

Nic. could stand it no longer; but flang out of the room 
with disdain, and beckoned the lawyers to follow him. 

John Bull. Bye ! bye, Nic. ! Not one poor smile at part- 
ing ! Won't you like to shake you day-day, Nic. ? Bye, 
Nic. ! 

With that, John marched out of the common road, across 
the country, to take possession of Ecclesdown. 




Par/iv.'^2*July^i73 ThE DELIGHT OF HAVING DUNKIRK. 403 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Of the great joy that John expressed when he got possession of 
Ecclesdown. 

Hen John had got into his Castle, he seemed like 
Ulysses upon his plank, after he had been well 
soused in cold water ; who, as Homer says, was as 
glad as a Judge going to sit down to dinner, after 
hearing a long cause upon the Bench. I dare say John 
Bull's joy was equal to that of either of the two. He 
skipped from room to room, ran upstairs and downstairs, 
from the kitchen to the garrets, and from the garrets to the 
kitchen. He peeped into every cranny. Sometimes he ad- 
mired the beauty of the architecture, and the vast solidity of 
the mason's work : at other times, he commended the sym- 
metry and proportion of the rooms. He walked about the 
gardens. He bathed himself in the Canal ; swimming, diving, 
and beating the liquid element, like a milk-white swan. The 
hall resounded with the sprightly violin and the martial 
hautboy. The Family tripped it about, and capered like hail- 
stones bounding from a marble floor. Wine, Ale, and 
October [beer] flew about as plentifully as kennel-water. 



Then a frolic took John in the head, to call up some of Nic. 
Frog's pensioners [the Whigs'], that had been so mutinous in 
his Family. 

Jolin Bull. Are you glad to see your master in Eccles- 
down Castle ? 

All. Yes, indeed. Sir ! 

John Bull. Extremely glad ? 

All. Extremely glad ! 

John Bull. Swear to me that ye are so ! 

Then they began to sink their souls to the lowest pit of 
hell, if any person in the world rejoiced more than they did ! 

John Bull. Now, hang me ! if I don't believe you are a 
parcel of perjured rascals ! However, take this bumper of 
October, to your master's health ! 



404 Holland alone, may be hurt by France! [p{;fiv" 



Arbuthnot. 
1712. 



Then John got upon the battlements ; and looking over, he 
called to Nic. Frog : 

" How do you do, Nic. ! Do you see where I am, Nic. ? 
I hope the Cause goes on swimmingly, Nic. ! When dost 
thou intend to go to Clay Pool, Nic. ? Wilt thou buy there 
some high-heads of the newest cut, for my daughters ? How 
comest thou to go with thy arm tied up ? Has old Lewis 
given thee a rap over the finger ends ? Thy weapon was a good 
one when I wielded it ; but the butt end remains for my 
hands. I am so busy in packing up my goods, that I have 
no time to talk with thee any longer ! It would do thy heart 
good, to see what waggon loads I am preparing for market ! 
If thou wantest any good office of mine ; for all that has 
happened, I will use thee well, Nic. ! Bye, Nic. ! " 

*^* John Bull's thanks to Sir Roger, and Nic. Frog's 
malediction upon all shrews, the original cause of his misforttineSy 
are reserved for the next volume. 

FINIS,