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» • i • • .''.''
THE
'» • T
WORKS
OB:/ tV : •♦
JOHN DRYDEN,
vow FIRST COLLECTED
IN EIGHTEEN VOLUMES.
ILLUSTRATED
WITH NOTES,
HISTORICAL, CRITICAL, AND EXPLANATORY,
AND
A LIFE OF THE AUTHOR,
BY
SIB WALTER SCOTT, Bart.
SECOND EDITION*
•
VOL. X. . .
EDINBURGH :
PRINTBD FOU ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND CO. BDINBORGHt
AMD HUSST, KOBIMSON, AMD CO. LONDON.
1821.
i^lW
I •••**,
> TO NFV^ YOM '
PUBLIC I.irnARY
T1L»«N f^UN NATIONS
m. ±9%\ L
IP»W^
inifd b^ Jitmes^ BaUaniyne and Co. JBdinburgh,
CONTENTS
OP
VOLUME TENTH.
PAOI.
Religio Lsuciy or a Layman^s Faith, an Epistle, . . 1
Preface, 11
Threnodia Augustalis, a Funeral Pindaric Poem, sacred
to the happy Memory of King Charles II. . . 53
Notes, 79
The Hind and the Panther, a Poem, in Three Parts, 85
Preface, 109
Notes on Part 1 139
Part II 159
Notes on Part II 18$
Part III 196
Notes on Part III 240
Britannia Rediviva, a Poem on the Birth of the Prince, S88
Notes, 308
Prologues and Epilogues, 309
Mac-Flccknoe, a Satire against Thomas Shadwell, . . 425
Notes, 441
RELIGIO LAICI;
OB,
A LAYMAN'S FAITH.
AN EPISTLE.
Ornari res ipsa negat ; contenta doceri.
VOL. X.
ARGUMENT.
TAKEN FEOM THE ADTHOa's MABOIKAL NOTES.
Opinions of the ceveral Sects of Philosophers concerning the Summum
3onum.-— System of Deism. — Of Revealed Religion.-— Objection of the
Deist — Objection answered. — Digression to the Translator of Father
Simon's Critical Edition of the Old Testament — Of the InfalHbility
of Tradition in geneiaL — Objection in behalf of Tradition^ urged by
Father Simon.*— The Second Objection.— Answered^
RELIGIO LAICI.
The Religio Laici, according to Johnson^ is almost the only
work of Dryden which can be considered as a voluntary efiiision.
I do not see much ground for this assertion. Dryden was indeed
obliged to write by the necessity of his circumstances ; but the ,
choice of the mode in which he was to labour was his own, as well
in his Fables and other poems, as in that which follows. Nay, up-
on examination, the Religio Laid appears, in a great measure, a
controversial, and almost a political poem ; and, being such, can-
not be termed, with propriety^ a voluntary effusion, any more
than " The Medal," or " Absalom and Achitophel." It is evi-
dent, Dryden had his own times in consideration, and the effect
which the potto was likely to produce upon them. Religious
controversy had mingled deeply with the party politics of the
reign of Charles II. Divided, as the nation was, into the three
great sects of Churchmen, Papists, and Dissenters, their several
creeds were examined by their antagonists with scrupulous ma-
lignity, and every hint extracted from them which could be turn-
ed to the disadvantage of those who professed them. To the Ca-
tholics, the dissenters objected their cruel intolerance and Jesu-
itical practices ; to the church of England, their servile depen-
dence on the crown, and slavish doctrine of non-resistance. The
Catholics, on the other hand, charged the reformed church of
England with desertion from the original doctrines of Christiani-
ty, with denying the infallibility of general councils, and destroy-
ing the ^unity of the church ; and against the fanatics, they ob-
jected their anti-monarchical tenets, the wild visions of their in-
dependent preachers, and their Seditious cabals against the church
and state. While the church of England was thus assailed by
two foes, who did not at the same time spare each other, it pro-
bably occurred* to Dryden, that he, who could explain her tenets
by a plain and philosophical commentary, had a chance, not only
4 RELIGIO LAICI.
of contributing to fix and regulate the faith of her professors^ but
of reconciling to her, as the middle course, the Catholics and the
fanatics. The Duke of York and the Papists, on the one hand^
were urging the King to the most desperate measures ; on the
other, the popular faction were just not in arms. The King, with
the assistance and advice of Halifax, was trimming his course be-
twixt these outrageous and furious torrents. Whatever, there-
fore, at this important crisis, might act as a sedative on the infla-
med spirits of all parties, and encourage them to abide with pa-
tience the events of futurity, was a main point in favour of the
crown. A rational and philosophical view of the tenets of the na-
tional church, liberally expressed, and decorated with the orna-
ments of poetry, seemed calculated to produce this effect ; and as I
have no doubt, as well from the preface, as from passages in the
poem, that Dryden had such a purpose in view, I have ventured to
place the Religio Laid among his historical and political poems.*
I would not, from what is above stated, be understood to mean,
that Dryden wrote this poem merely with a view to politics, and
that he was himself sceptical in the matters of which it treats.
On the contrary, I have no doubt, that it expresses, without dis-
guise or reservation, what was then the author's serious and firm,
though, as it unfortunately proved, not his unalterable religious
opinion. The remarkable line in the *^ Hind and Panther,"
seems to refer to the state of his mind at this period; and this
system of divinity was among the " new sparkles which his pride
had struck forth," after he had abandoned the fanatical doctrines
in which he was doubtless educated. t It is therefore probable,
that, having formed for himself, on grounds which seemed to
warrant it, a rational exposition of the national creed, he was
willing to communicate it to the public at a period, when naio-
deration of religious zeal was so essentially necessary to the re-
pose of the nation.
Considered in this point of view, the Religio Laid is one of
the most admirable poems in the language. The argumentative
part is conducted with singular skill, upon those topics which oc-
casioned the principal animosity between the religious sects ; and
the deductions are drawn in favour of the church of England
• It was intimated by Dryden's enemies, that he chose this religious and grave
subject with a view to smooth the way to his taking orders, and obtaining church
preferment — See a quotation from the Religio Laici, bjr J. R. subjoined to these
introductory remarks. But our author, in the preface to the •♦Fables," declares,
that gaing into the Church was never in his thoughts.
•f" The reader will find this opinion more fully expressed in the observations
en Dryden's conversion to the Roman Catholic faith, given in the Life.
JIELIGIO LAICI. 5
with so much apparent impartiality, that those who could not as-
sent^ had at least no title to be angry. The opinions of the va-
rious classes of free-thinkers are combated by an appeal to those
feelings of the human mind^ which always acknowledge an of«
fended Deity» and to the various modes in which all ages and na-
tions have shewn their sense of the necessity of an atonement by
sacrifice and penance. Dryden^ however^ differs from most phi-
losophers^ who suppose this consciousness of guilt to be original-
ly implanted in our bosoms : he^ somewhat fantastically^ argues,
as if it were some remnant of the original faith revealed to Noah,
and preserved by the posterity of Shenu The inadequacy of sa-
crifices and oblations, when compared with the crimes of Uiose by
whom they are made, and with the grandeur of the omnipotent
Being to whom they are offered, paves the way for the imputed
righteousness of Jesus Christy the fundamental doctrine of the
Christian religion. The fitness of this vicarious sacrifice to ac-
complish the redemption of man, and vindicate the justice and
mercy of God ; the obvious impossibility that the writings, or au-
thors, by which it has been conveyed to us, should be less than in-
spired ; the progress of the Christian faith itself, though milita-
ting against the corrupt dispositions of humanity, and graced
with none of those attractions by which Mahomet, and other false
prophets, bribed their followers, are then successively urged as
evidences of the Christian religion. The poet then recurs to an
objection, at which he had hinted in his preface. If the Christian
religion is necessary to salvation, why is it not extended to all na-
tions of the earth ? And suppose we grant that the circumstance
of the revealed religion having been formerly preached and em-
braced in great part of the world where it is now unknown, shall
be sufficient to subject those regions to be judged by its laws,
what is to become of the generations who have lived before the
coming of the Messiah ? what of the inhabitants of those countries
on which the beams of the gospel have never shone ? To these
doubts, I hope most Christians will think our author returns a
liberal, and not a presumptuous answer, in supposing that the
heathen will be judged according to the light which it has plea-
sed God to afford them ; and that, infinitely less fortunate than
us in the extent of their spiritual knowledge, they will only be
called upon to answer for their conformity with the dictates of
their own conscience. The authority of St Athanasius our au-
thor here sets aside, either because, in the ardour of his dispute
with Arius, he carried his doctrine too far, or because his creed
only has reference to the decision of a doctrinal question in the
Christian church ; and the anathema annexed applies not to the
heathen world, but to those, who, having heara the orthodox
faith preaqhed, have wilfully chosen the heresy. Dryden next
takes under review the work of Father Simon ; and, after an
6 RELIGIO LAICI.
eulogy on the author and translator, pronounces, that the former
was not a bigotted Catholic, since he did not hesitate to chal-
lenge some of the traditions of the church of Rome. To these
traditions, these '* brushwood helps," with which the Catholics
endeavoured to fence the doctrines of their church, our author
proceeds, and throws them aside as liable to error and corruption.
The pretensions of the Church of Rome, by her Pope and general
councils, infallibly to determine the authenticity of church tra*
dition, is the next proposition. To this the poet answers^ that
if they possess infallibdity at all, it ought to go the length of re-
storing the canon» or correcting the corrupt copies of Scripture ;
a reply which seems to concede to the Romans ; as, without
denying the grounds of their claim, it only asserts, that it is not
sufficiently extended. Upon the ground, however, that the plea
of infallibility, by which the poet is obviously somewhat embar-
rassed, must be dismissed, as proving too much, the Holy Scrip-
tures are referred to as the sole rule of faith ; admitting such ex-
planations as the church of England has given to the contested
doctrines of Christianity. The unlettered Christian, we are told^
does well to pursue, in simplicity, his path to heaven ; the learn-
ed divine is to study well the Sacred Scriptures, with such assist-
ance as the most early traditions of the Church, especially those
which are written, may, in doubtful points, afford him. It is in
this argument chiefly, that there may be traced a sort of vacilla-
tion and uncertainty in our author's opinion, boding what after-
wards took place — his acquiescence in the church authority of
Rome. Nevertheless, having vaguely pronounced, that some
traditions are to be received, and others rejected, he gives his
opinion against the Roman see, which dictated to the laity ttie
explications of doctrine as adopted by the church, and prohibited
them to form their own opinion upon the text, or even to peruse
the sacred volume which contains it. This Dryden contrasts
with the opposite evil, of vulgar enthusiasts debasing Scripture
by their own absurd commentaries, and dividing into as many
sects, as there are wayward opinions formed upon speculative
doctrine. He concludes, that both extremes are to be avoided ;
that saving faith does not depend on nice disquisitions ; yet, if
inquisitive minds are hurried into such, the Scripture, and the
commentary of the fathers, are their only safe gmdes :
And after hearing what our Church can say.
If still our reason runs another way.
That private reason 'tis more just to curb»
Than by dispute the public peace disturb :
For points obscure are of small use to learn.
But common quiet is mankind's concern
In considering Dryden's creed thus analyzed, I think it will
appear, that the author, though stiU holding the doctrines of the
RELIGIO LAICI. 7
Church of England, had been biassed^ in the course of his en-
quiry, by those of Rome. His wish for the possibility of an in-
fallible guide,* expressed with almost indecent ardour, the dif-
ficulty, nay, it would seem, in his estimation, almost the impos-
sibility, of discriminating between corrupted and authentic tra-
ditions, while the necessity of the latter to the interpretation of
Scripture is plainly admitted, appear, upon the whole, to have
left the poet's mind in an unpleasmg state of doubt, frota which
he rather escapes than is reheved. He who only acquiesces in
the doctrines of his church, because the exercise of his private
judgment may disturb the tranquillity of the state, can hardly be
said to be in a state to give a reason for the faith that is in him.
The doctrine of the Religio Laid is admirably adapted to the
subject ; though treating of the most abstruse doctrines of Chris-
tianity, it is as dear and perspicuous as the most humble prose,
while it has all the elegance and effect which argument is capa^
ble of receiving from poetry. Johnson, usually sufficiently nig-
gard of praise, has allowed, that this *^ is a composition of great
excellence in its kind, in which the familiar is verv properly di-
versified with the solemn, and the grave with the humorous ; in
which metre has neither weakened the force, nor clouded the
perspicuity of argument ; nor will it be easy to find another ex-
ample, equally happy, of this middle kind of writing, which,
though prosaic in some parts, rises to high poetry in omers, and
neither towers to the skies, nor creeps ^ong the ground." f I
cannot help remarking, that the style of the Religio Laid has
been imitated successfully by the late Mr Cowper in some of his
pieces. Yet he has not been always able to maintain the resem-
blance, but often crawls where Dryden would have walked. The
natural dignity of our author may be discovered in the lamest
lines of the poem, whereas his imitator is often harsh and em-
barrassed. Both are occasionally prosaic ; but in such passages
Dryden's verse resembles good prose, and Cowper's that which
is feeble and involved.
The name which Dryden has thought proper to affix to this
declaration of his faith, seems to have been rather fashionable
about that time. There is a treatise De ReUgione Laid, attached
to the work of Lord Herbert of Cherbury, De Feritate, first
published in 1633. But the most famous work, with a similar
title, was the Religio Medid of Thomas Browne, which was trans-
* Such an omniscient church we wish indeed ;
'Tweie worth hoth Testaments, cast in the Creed.
'f Johnson*s Life of Dryden.
8 BELIGIO LAICI.
lated into Latin by Meryweather, and afterwards into French,
Italian, Dutch, German, and most of the languages of Europe.
In 16SS, Charles Blount, of Staffordshire, son to Sir Henry
Blounty published a short treatise, entitled, Religio Laid, whira
he inscribed to his '* much honoured friend, JohnDryden, Esq. ;*•
whom he informed, in the epistle-dedicatory, " I have enclea-
voured that my discourse should only be a continuance of yours ;
and that, as you taught men how to believe, so I might instruct
them how to live."*
It has been suggested, that the purpose of the Religio Laid o€
Dryden was to bring the contending factions to sober and phi-
losophical reflection on their differences in points of faith, and to
abate, if possible, the acrimony with which they contended upon
the most obscure subjects of polemical divinity. But to attempt^
by an abstracted disquisition on the original cause of quarrel, to
stop a controversy, m which all the angry passions had been
roused, and which indeed was fast verging towards blows, is as
vain an attempt, as it would be to turn the course of a river, swoln
with a thousand tributary streams, by draining the original spring,
head. From the cold reception of this poem, compared to those
political and personal satires which preceded it» Dryden might
learn the difference of interest, excited by productions which
tended to fan party rage, and one which was designed to mitigate
its ferocity. The Religio Laid, which first appeared in Novem-
ber 1682» neither attracted admiration nor censure; it was nei-
ther hailed by the acclamations of the one party, nor attacked by
the indignant answers of the other. The public were, however,
sufficiently interested in it to call for a renewal of the impression
in the following year. This second edition, which had escaped
even the researdies of Mr Malone, is in the collection of my friend
Mr Heber. It might probably have been again reprinted with ad-
vantage, but our autnor's change of faith must necessarily have
rendered him unwilling to give a third edition. The same circum-
stance called the attention of his enemies towards this neglected
poem, who, in many libels, upbraided him with the versatility of
his religious opinions. The author of a pamphlet, called " The
Revolter," was at the pains to print the tenets of the Religio
Laid concerning the Catholic controversy, in contrast with those
which our author had adopted and expressed in '' The Hind and
Panther." t Another turned our author's own title against him.
* Malone, toL III. p. 310.
f ** The Revolter, a Tragi»Comedy, acted between the Hind and Panther and
BeUgioLaki. London. 1687."
RELIGIO LAICI. 9
and published " Religio Laid, or a Layman's Faith touching the
Supream and Infallible Guide of the Church, by J. R. a Convert
of Mr Bayes. In Two Letters to a Friend in the Country. Licensed
June the 1st, 1688." In both these pamphlets our author is treated
with the grossest insolence and brutality. * Excepting these ma«
* As will appear from the following extracts : — " While he sat thus in his
poetical throne, or rather acting upon the stage of fable and pagan mythology,
and transfiguring into beasts all mankind, but Turks and infidels, that were out
of his road, he never considered what a monster he was himself; a second Gorgon
with three heads, for each of which he had a particular employment ; with the
one, to fawn upon the most infamous of usurpers ; with the other, at one time
to lick the beneficent hands of his Protestant mother, and, by and bye, to
court the charity of his Catholic mamma ; while, with the third, he barked
and snarled, not only at his first deserted female parent, but also at all other dif*
fering sentiments and opinions, which his Sovereign had so graciously and gene-
rously indulged.
*' But 'twas his wrath, because his native church
Left his high expectations in the lurch.
He saw the play-wright lawreate debauched
By the times, vices which he himself reproached ;
And, by his grand reform of stage-pit tools.
Judged his ability to manage souls.
The comedy, to see him preach for aught.
She knew might tragic prove to those he taught ;
By ill instructions to their loss beguiled.
Or scorning precepts from a tongue defiled
With stage c^scenity— —
For who could have refrained from sportive mirth,
To hear the nation's poet, Bayes, hold forth ?
Or who would ever practice by the rule
Of one they could not chuse but ridicule ?
The scandal was the greater, the more rare.
An ordained play-wright in the house of prayer.
While people only flock to hear him chime
A rampant sermon forth in brilly rhime ;
Or else his gaping auditors he feasts
With bold Isaiah's raptures, and Ezekiel's beasty.
All this the church foresaw, nor could endure
Polluted lips should handle things most pure.
T?ie Revolter, p. 2.
** But, to give the devil his due, I must needs own Mr Bayes has a most powerful
and luxurious hand at satire, and may challenge all Christendom to match him ;
for indeed 1 never, in my slender province, met any that was worthy to compare
to him, unless that unknown, but supposed worthy author, that writ to him upon
his at last turning Roman Catholic ; for Bayes, like the Vicar of Bray, in
Henry VIII. Edward VI. Queen Mary, and Queen Elizabeth's times, was re-
solved to keep his place ; (and the quoting an author to the purpose, is the same
10 RELI6I0 LAICI.
lignant criticisms, the Religio Laid slept in obscurity after the
second edition, and was not again published till after the au«
thorns death. Neither has it beeit since popular, although its
pure spirit of Christianity should be acceptable to the religious.
Its moderation to the philosopher, and the excellence of the com-
position to all admirers of argumentative poetry.
thing, the learned say, as if it was his own), and that wiU, I hope, excuse my
putting them down here :—
**• Thou mercenary renegade, thou slave.
Thou ever changing still to be a knave ;
What sect, what error, wilt thou next disgrace ?
Thou art so iude^ so scandalously base.
That antichristian popery may be
Ashamed of such a proselyte as thee ;
Not all thy rancour, or felonious spite.
Which animates thy lumpish soul to write.
Could ha* contrived a satire more severe.
Or more disgrace the cause thou wouldst prefer
Yet in thy favour, this must be confest.
It suits with thy poetic genius best ;
There thou
To truths disused, mayst entertain
Thyself with stories, more fanciful and vain
Than e'er thy poetry could ever fain.
Or sing the lives of thy own fellow saints,
'Tis a large field, and thy assistance wants ;
Thence copy out new operas for the stage.
And with their miracles direct the age.
Such is thy faith, if faith thou hast indeed,
For well we may suspect the poet^s creed.
Rebel to God, blasphemer o* the king.
Oh tell whence could this strange compliance spring ?
So mayest thou prove to thy new gods as true.
As thy old friend, the devil, has been to you*
Yet conscience and religion's your pretence.
But bread and drink the methologick sense.
Ah ! how persuasive is the want of bread.
Not reasons from- strong box more strongly plead.
A convert, thou ! 'tis past all believing ;
'Tis a damned scandal, of thy foes contriving ;
A jest of that malicious monstrous fame—
The honest lajmian's faith is still the same.
Religio Laiciy byJ»R.a Convert of Mr Baye*,
»»
In such coarse invective were Dryden*s theological poems censured by persons,
who, far from writing decent poetry, or even common sense, could neither ^pell,
nor write tolerable grammar.
tHTi
PREFACE.
A. Poem, with so bold a title, and a name prefixed
from which the handling of so serious a subject
would not be expected, may reasonably oblige the
author to say somewhat in defence, both of himself
and of his undertaking. In the first place, if it be
objected to me, that, being a layman, I ought not to
have concerned myself with speculations, which
belong to the profession of divinity ; I could an-
swer, that perhaps laymen, with equal advantages of
parts and knowledge, are not the most incompetent
judges of sacred things ; but, in the due sense of
my own weakness, and want of learning, I plead
not this ; I pretend not to make myself a judge of
faith in others, but only to make a confession of my
own. I lay no unhallowed hand upon the ark, but
wait on it, with the reverence that becomes me, at
a distance. In the next place, I will ingenuously
confess, that the helps I have used in this small
treatise, were many of them taken from the work*
10
12 PREFACE TO
of our own reverend divines of the church of Eng-
land ; so that the weapons with which I combat ir-
religion, are already consecrated ; though I suppose
they may be taken down as lawfully as the sword
of Goliah was by David, when they are to be em-
ployed for the common cause against the enemies
of piety. I intend not by this to entitle them to
any of my errors, which yet I hope are only those
of charity to mankind ; and such as my own cha-
rity has caused me to commit, that of others may
more easily excuse. Being naturally inclined to
scepticism in philosophy, I have no reason to im-
pose my opinions in a subject which is above it ;
but whatever they are, I submit them with all reve-
rence to my mother church, accounting them no
further mine, than as they are authorized, or at
least uncondemned, by her. And, indeed, to secure
myself on this side, 1 have used the necessary pre-
caution of shewing this paper before it was pub-
lished to a judicious and learned friend ; a man in-
defatigably zealous in the service of the church and
state, and whose writings have highly deserved of
both. He was pleased to approve the body of the
discourse, and I hope he is more my friend than to
do it out of complaisance : It is true, he had too
good a taste to like it all ; and, amongst some other
faults, recommended to my second view, what I
have written, perhaps too boldly, on St Athanasius,
which he advised me wholly to omit. I am sensi-
ble enough, that I had done more prudently to have
followed his opinion ; but then I could not have sa-
tisfied myself, that I had done honestly not to have
written what was my own. It has always been
my thought, that heathens, who never did, nor
without miracle could, hear of the name of Christ,
were yet in a possibility of salvation. Neither will
it enter easily into my belief, that before the co-
RELIGIO. LAICI. 13
ming of our Saviour, the whole world, excepting
only the Jewish nation, should lie under the inevi-
table necessity of everlasting punishment, for want
of that revelation, which was confined to so small
a spot of ground as that of Palestine. Among the
sons of Noah, we read of one only who was accur-
sed ; and, if a blessing, in the ripeness of time, was
reserved for Japhet, of whose progeny we are, it
seems unaccountable to me, why so many genera-
tions of the same offspring, as precedjed our Saviour
in the flesh, should be all involved in one common
condemnation, and yet that their posterity should
be entitled to the hopes of salvation ; as if a bill of
exclusion had passed only on the fathers, which de-
barred not the sons from their succession : or, that
so many ages had been delivered over to hell, and
so many reserved for heaven, and that the devil had
the first choice, and God the next. Truly I am apt
to think, that the revealed religion, which was
taught by Noah to all his sons, might continue for
some ages in the whole posterity. That afterwards
it was ihcluded wholly in the family of Shem, is
manifest ; but when the progenies of Cham and Ja-
phet swarmed into colonies, and those colonies were
subdivided into many others, in process of time
their descendants lost, by little and little, the pri-
mitive and purer rites of divine worship, retaining
only the notion of one deity ; to which succeeding
generations added others ; for men took their de-
grees in those ages from conquerors to gods. Re-
velation being thus eclipsed to almost all mankind,
the light of nature, as the next in dignity, was sub-
stituted ; and that is it which St Paul concludes to
be the rule of the heathens, and by which they are
hereafter to be judged. If my supposition be true,
then the consequence, which I have assumed in
my poem, may be also true ; namely, that Deism,
14 PREFACE TO
or the principles of natural worship, are only faint
remnants, or dying flames, of revealed religion, in
the posterity of Noah ; and that our modern philo-
sophers, nay, and some of our philosophizing di-
vines, have too much exalted the faculties of our
souls, when they have maintained, that, by their
force, mankind has been able to And out, that there
is one ^supreme agent, or intellectual being, which
we call God ; that praise an3 prayer are his due
worship ; and the rest of those deducements, which
I am confident are the remote effects of revelation,
and unattainable by our discourse, I mean as simply
considered, and without the benefit of divine illu-
mination. So that we have not lifted up ourselves
to God, by the weak pinions of our reason, but he
has been pleased to descend to us , and what So-
crates said of him, what Plato writ, and the rest of
the heathen philosophers of several nations, is all no
more than the twilight of revelation, after the sun
of it was set in the race of Noah. That there is
something above us, some principle of motion, our
reason can apprehend, though it cannot discover
what it is by its own virtue : and, indeed, it is
very improbable that we, who, by the strength of
our faculties, cannot enter into the knowledge of
any being, not so much, as of our own, should be
able to find out, by them, that supreme nature,
which we cannot otherwise define, than by saying
it is infinite ; as if infinite were definable, or infi-
nity a subject for our narrow understanding. They,
who would prove religion by reason, do but weaken
the cause which they endeavour to support : it is to
take away the pillars from our faith, and to prop it
only with a twig ; it is to design a tower, like that
of Babel, which, if it were possible, as it is not, to
reach heaven, would come to nothing by the con-
fusion of the workmen. For every man is building
RELIGIO LAICI. 15
a several way ; impotently conceited of his own
model and his own materials, reason is always stri-
ving, and always at a loss ; and of necessity it miist
so come to pass, while it is exercised about that
which is not its proper object. Let us be content, at
last, to know God by his own methods ; at least,
so much of him as he is pleased to reveal to us in
the sacred Scriptures. To apprehend them to be the
word of God is all our reason has to do ; for all be-
yond it is the work of faith, which is the seal of
heaven impressed upon our human understanding.
And now for what concerns the holy Bishop
Athanasius, the preface of whose creed seems in-
consistent with my opinion, which is, that hea-
thens may possibly be saved. In the first place, I
desire it may be considered, that it is the preface
only, not the creed itself, which, till I am better
informed, is of too hard a digestion for my charity.*
It is not that I am ignorant, how many several
texts of Scripture seemingly support that cause ;
but ndther am I ignorant, how all those texts may
receive a kinder, and more mollified interpretation.
Every man, who is read in church history, knows
that belief was drawn up after a long contestation
with Arius, concerning the divinity of our blessed
Saviour, and his being one substance with The Fa-
ther ; and that thus compiled, it was sent abroad
among the Christian churches, as a kind' of test,
which, whosoever took, was looked on as an ortho-
dox believer .f It is manifest from hence, that the
* " Whosoever will be saved, before all things it is necessary
that he hold the Catholic faith.
*' Which faith^ except every one do keep whole and undefiled^
without doubt he shdl perish everlastingly.
t The controversy between Athanasius and Arius long divided
the Christian church. The former was patriarch of Alexandria,
16 PREFACE TO
heathen part of the empire was not concerned in
it ; for its business was not to distinguish betwixt
Pagans and Christians, but betwixt heretics and
true believers. This, well considered, takes off the
heavy weight of censure, which I would willingly
avoid from so venerable a man ; for if this proposi-
tion, " whosoever will be saved," be restrained only
to those for whom it was intended, and for whom
it was composed, I mean the Christians ; then the
anathema reaches not the heathens, who had never
heard of Christ, and were nothing interested in that
dispute. After all, I am far from blaming even
that prefatory addition to the creed, and as far
from cavilling at the continuation of it in the li-
turgy of the church, where, on the days appointed,
it is publicly read ; for I suppose there is the
same reason for it now, in opposition to the Sod-
nians, as there was then against the Arians ; the one
being a heresy, which seems to have been refined
out of the other ; and with how much more plau-
sibility of reason it combats our religion, with so
much more caution it ought to be avoided ; there-
fore, the prudence of our church is to be commend-
and the latter Bishop of Nicomedia, in Asia. The dispute re-
garded the godhead of the Trinity. The doctrine of Arius, that
God the Son was not co-existent, consequently, not equal in
dignity with God the Father, was condemned by the grand ge-
neral council of Nice, and he was banished. But he was after-
wards recalled by the Emperor ; and his heresy spread so wide-
ly, that almost all the Christian world were at one time Arians.
As a test of the true orthodox doctrine, Athanasius composed
the creed which goes by his name. Being written expressly for
this purpose, and for the exclusive use of the Christian world,
Dryden argues^ with great apparent justice, that the anathema
with which it is fenced, has no relation to the heathens, and thai
we cannot, with charity, or even logically, argue from thence
concerning their state in the next world.
KELIGIO LAICL 17
ed, which has interposed her authority for the re*
commendation of this creed. Yet to such as ar?
grounded in the true belief, those explanatory
creeds, the Nicene and this of Athanasius, might
perhaps be spared; for what is supernatural will
always be a mystery in spite of exposition ; and,
for my own part, the plain Apostle's creed is most
suitable to my weak understanding, as the simplest
diet is the most easy of digestion.
I have dwelt longer on this subject than I in-
tended, and longer than perhaps I ought ; for, ha-
ving laid down, as my foundation, that the Scrip*
ture is a rule ; that in all things needful to salva-
tion it is clear, sufficient, and ordained by God Al-
mighty for that purpose ; I have left myself no right
to interpret obscure places, such as concern the
possibility of eternal happiness to heathens ; be-
cause whatsoever is obscure is concluded not neces-
sary to be known.
But, by asserting the Scripture to be the canon
of our faith, I have unavoidably created to myself
two sorts of enemies ; the papists, indeed, more di-
rectly, because they have kept the Scripture from
us what they could, and have reserved to themselves
a right of interpreting what they have delivered un-
der the pretence of infallibility ; and the fanatics,
more collaterally, because they have assumed what
amounts to an infallibility in the private spirit, and
have distorted those texts of Scripture which are
not necessary to salvation, to the damnable uses of
sedition, disturbance, and destruction of the civil
government. To begin with the papists, and to
speak freely, I think them the less dangerous (at lesyst
in appearance) to our present state ; for not only
the penal laws are in force against them, and their
number is contemptible, but also their pei^age and
commons are excluded from parliaments, and conse-
VOL. X. B
18 PREFACE TO
quently those laws in no probability of being re-
pealed. A general and uninterrupted plot of their
clergy, ever since the Reformation, I suppose all
Protestants believe ; for it is not reasonable to think,
but that so many of their orders, as were outed
from their fat possessions, would endeavour a re^
entrance against those whom they account here-
tics.* As for the late design, Mr Coleman's let-
ters, for aught I know, are the best evidence ; and
what they discover, without wire- drawing their
sense, or malicious glosses, all men of reason con-
clude credible.! I^ there be any thing more than
* ** It is certain^ that the restless and enterprizing spirit of the
Catholic churchy particularly of the Jesuits, merits attention^ and
is, in some degree, dangerous to every other communion. Such
zeal of proselytism actuates that sect, that its missionaries have
penetrated into every nation of the globe, and, in one sense, there
is a Popish-plot perpetually carrying on against all states, Pro-
testant, Pagan, and Mahometan." — Hume, Vol. VII. p. 72. .
+ The unfortunate Edward Coleman was secretary to the Duke
of York, and in high favour with his master. With the intrigu-
ing spirit of a courtier, and the zeal of a Catholic, he had long
carried on a correspondence with Father La Chaise, confessor to
the King of France, with the Pope's nuncio, and with other Ca-
tholics abroad, for the purpose, as he himself states it, of '^ the
conversion of three kingdoms, and by that, perhaps, the utter
subduing of a pestilent heresy, which has a long time domineered
over a great part of the norUiem world." It would seem, from
these letters, that it was the purpose of the Catholics, to begin
by obtaining, if possible, a toleration, or exemption from the pe-
nal laws ; and then, while strengthening themselves byaiew con-
verts, to await the succession of James, or the open declaration
of Charles in favour of their religion. From various points, it lU)-
pears, that Coleman was a better Catholic than an Englishman ;
and would not have hesitated to sacrifice the interests df his coun-
try to France, if, by so doing, he could have brought hep faith
nearer to Rome. There were also indications of both the king'^
and duke's accessibility to foreign influence, which were fraught
with consequences highly dangerous to the country. But while
the Catholics were availing themselves of these unworthy dispo-
sitions in the royal brothers, it was quite absurd to suppose^ tnat
RELIGIO LAICL 19
this required of me, I must believe it as well as I
am able, in spite of the witnesses, and out of a de-
cent conformity to the votes of parliament ; for I
suppose the fanatics will not allow the private spirit
iu this case. Here the infallibility is at least in one
part of the government ; and our understandings,
as well as our wUls, are represented. But to re-
turn to the Roman Catholics, how can we be se-
cure from the practice of jesuited Papists in that re-
ligion ? For not two or three of that order, as some
of them would impose upon us, but almost the
whole body of them, are of opinion, that their in-
fallible master has a right over kings, not only in
spirituals, but temporals. Not to name Mariana,
Bellarmine, Emanuel Sa, Molina, Santarel, Siman-p
cha,* and at least twenty others of foreign coun-
they should have forfeited every prospect of success^ by assassi-^
nating those very persons^ oipon whose lives their whole plan
depended, to place upon the throne of the Prince of Orange^
the head of the Protestant League. Yet^ although not the least
trace is tohe found in Coleman's Letters of the murders, invasions,
fires^ and massacres, which Oates and Bedloe bore witness to,
the real and imaginary conspiracy were identified by the gene-
ral prepossession of the nation ; and Coleman, who undoubted-
ly deserved death for his unlawful and treasonable trafficking with
foreign interests against the religion and liberty of his country,
actually suffered for a plot which was totally chimerical.
* These are all Jesuits and controversial writers.
Marina maintains, that it is well for princes to believe, that
if they become oppressive to their people, they may be killed, not
only lawfully, but most commendably.— -/jij/t^t/^ pp. 61, 64.
In the 6th chapter of the same work, he calls the murder of
Henry IIL of France by Jaques Clement, " insignem animi con"
Jidentiam^-'facinus memorabile — cceso rege, tngens sibi nomenJeciL"
Bellarmine declares roundly^ that all heretics are to be cut ofF,
unless they are the stronger party, and then the Catholics must
remain quiet, and waita fitter time. — DeZ/atcw,LiberIII. cap.22.
Simancha affirms, "propter Hceresin Regis, non solum Rex regno
privaiur, et a communionejidelium dirts proscripfionibus separaiur ;
sed et ejusjilii a regni successione pelluniur." Suarez expressly
20 PREFACE TO
tries, we can produce of our own nation, Campian,
and Doleman or Parsons,f (besides many [who] are
named whom I have not read,) who all of them at-
test this doctrine, that the Pope can depose and
give away the right of any sovereign prince, se vel
paulum deflexerit, if he shall never so little v^arp ;
but if he once comes to be excommunicated, then
the bond of obedience is taken off from subjects ;
and they may and ought to drive him, like an-
other Nebuchadnezzar, ex hofninum Christianorvm
domnatu, from exercising dominion over Chris-
tians; and to this they are bound by virtue of
divine precept, and by all the ties of conscience,
under no less penalty than damnation. If they an-
says^ ^* Regem excommunicaium impune deponi vel occidi quibus"
cunque.posse,"'^Susirez in Reg. Mag. Brit. Lib. 6. cap. 6. ^ 24t3
These are sujQBcient examples of the doctrine laid down m the
text, which, I believe, is now as much detested by Roman Ca«
tholics as by those of other religions.
t Edmund Campian, and Robert Parsons, English Jesuits, in
the year 1580, obtained a bull from the Pope, declaring that the
previous bull of Pius V., deposing and excommunicating Queen
Elizabeth, did forever bind the heretics, but not the Catholics,
till a favourable opportunity should occur of putting it into exe-
cution. Thus armed, they came into England, their native coun-
try, for the express purpose of proclaioiing the Pope's right to
dethrone monarchs, and that Queen Elizabeth's subjects were
freed from their allegiance. Campian was hanged for preaching
this doctrine, A. D. 1581* Parsons, finding England too hot for
him, fled beyond seas, and settled at Rome. He published many
works, both in English and Latin, against the Church and State
of England ; one of which is, *' A Conference about the next Sue*
cession of die Crown of England," printed in 1593, imder the
name of N. Doleman. The first part ccmtains the doctrine con*
ceming the right of the Church to chastise kings, and proceed
against them. This book the fanatics found so much to their
furpose, that they reprinted it, to justify the murder of Charles
. — Atheiiw Oxon. Vol. I. p. 358. Doleman, under whose name
it was originally published, was a quiet secular priest, who ab-
horred suph doctrines. Parsons, the r^al author, died at Rome
in l6lO.
RKLIGIO LAICI. SI
swer m6, (as a learned priest has lately written,) that
this doctrine of the Jesuits is not defide^ and that
consequently they are not obliged by it, they must
pardon me, if I think they Mve said nothing to
the purpose ; for it is a maxim in their church,
where points of faith are not decided, and that doc-
tors are of contrary opinions, they may foUow which
part they please, but more safely the most received
and most authorized. And their champion, Bellar-
mine, has told the world, in his Apology, that the
King of England is a vassal to the Pope, ratione du
recti domtnit/^ and that he holds in villanage of his
Roman landlord ; which is no new claim put in for
England. Our chronicles are his authentic wit-
nessei^, that King John was deposed by the same
plea, and Philip Augustus admitted tenant ; and,
which makes the more for Bellarmine, the French
king was again ejected when our king submitted
to the church, and received the crown under the
sordid condition of a vassalage.
It is not sufficient for the more moderate and
well-meaning papists, of which I doubt not there
are many, to produce the evidences of their loyalty
to the late king, and to declare their innocency in
this plot. I will grant their behaviour in the first
to have been as loyal and as brave as they desire ;
and will be willing to hold them excused as to the
second, (I mean when it comes to my turn, and
after my betters ; for it is a madness to be sober
alone, while the nation continues drunk :) but that
saying of their Father Cres.f is still running in my
* The Dominium directum is the right of seignory competent
to a feudal superior, in opposition to the Dominium utile, or ac-
tual possession of the lands which is held by the vassal.
■ t Hugh Paulin Cressy, better known by the name of Serenus
Cressy, which he adopted upon entering into a religious state^
22 PREFACE TO
head, — that they may be dispensed with in their
obedience to an heretic prince, while the necessity
of the times shall oblige them to it ; (for that, as
another of them tells us, is only the effect of Chris-
tian prudence ;) but when once they shall get power
to shake him off, an heretic is no lawful king, and
consequently to rise against him is no rebellion.
I should be glad, therefore, that they would follow
the advice which was charitably given them by a
reverend prelate of our church, namely, that they
would join in a public act of disowning and detest-
ing those Jesuitic principles, and subscribe to all
doctrines which deny the Pope's authority of depo-
sing kings, and releasing subjects from their oath
of allegiance ; to which, I should think, they might
easily be induced, if it be true, that this present
Pope has condemned the doctrine of king-killing ;
a thesis of the Jesuits, maintained, amongst others,
ex cathedra^ as they call it, or in open consistory.
Leaving them, therefore, in so fair a way, (if they
please themselves,) of satisfying all reasonable men
of their sincerity and good meaning to the govern-
ment, 1 shall make bold to consider that other ex-
was originally chaplain to the unfortunate Strafford^ and after-
wards to the gallant Falkland ; but^ having gone abroad after
the Civil Wars^ he became a convert to the Catholic faith, and a
Benedictine monk in the English college of Douay. After the
Restoration, he returned to England, and was appointed chaplain
to Queen Catherine. He was remarkable for regularity of life,
unaffected piety^ modest and mild behaviour. But in mystical
doctrines, ne was an enthusiast ; and in religion, a zealot. He
was the principal conductor of controversy on the part of the Pa-
pists ; and published many treatises against Stillingfleet^ Pierce,
Bagshaw^ and other champions of the Protestant faith. His chief
work was the Church History of Brittany, from the beginning
of Christianity to the Norman Conquest. — See AtheruB Oxon, 11.
p. 528.
REUGJO LAICI. 28
treme of our religion, I mean the fanatics, or scbis-
matics, of the English church. Since the Bible has
been translated into our tongue, they have used it
so, as if their business was not to be saved, but to
be. damned, by its contents. If we consider only
them, better had it been for the English nation,
that it had still remained in the original Greek and
Hebrew, or at least in the honest Latin of St Je-
rome, than that several texts in it should have been
prevaricated to the destruction of that government,
which put it into so ungrateful hands.
How many heresies the first translation of Tyn-
dal* produced in few years, let my Lord Herbert's
* The passage in Lord Herbert's history, referred to by Dry-
den, seems to be that which follows :—
** For as the Scriptures began then commonly to be read, so
out of the literal sense thereof, the manner of those times was,
promiscuously to draw arguments, for whatsoever in matter of
state. or otherwise was to be done. Insomuch, that the text which
came nearest the point in question, was taken as a decision of the
business, to the no little detriment of their affairs; the Scriptures
not pretending yet to give regular instructions in those points.
But this is so much less strange, that the year preceding, the
Scriptures (heretofore not permitted to .the view of the people)
were now translated in divers languages, and into English, by
Tindal, Joy, and others, though, as not being warranted by the
king's authority, they were publicly burnt, and a new and better
translation promised to be set fortn, and allowed to the people ;
it being not thought fit by our king, that, under what pretence
or difficulty soever, his subjects should be defrauded of that,
wherein was to be found the word of God, and means of their
salvation. Howbeit not a few inconveniences were observed to
follow. For as the people did not sufficiently separate the more
clear and necessary parts thereof, from the obscure and acces-
sory ; and as again taking the several authors to be equally in-
spired, they did equally apply themselves to all ; they fell into
many dangerous opinions. Little caring how they lived, so they
understood well, bringing religion thus into much irresolution
and controversie, while few men agreeing on the same interpre-
tation of the harder places, vexed each others conscience, approw
1
24 PREFACE TO
Histoiy of Httiry the Eighth inform you ; itiso^
much that, for the gross eirors in it, and ihe great
mischiefs it occasioned, a sentence passed on the
first edition of the Bible, too shameful almost to be
repeated** After the short reign of Edward the
I « «
priattng to themsel ved the gift of the spirit. Whereof the Roman
churchy (much perplext at first with tnese defections) did at last
avail itself; as assuming alone the power of that decision^ which
yet was used more in favour of themselves^ than such an analogy^
as ought to be found in so perfect a book* So that few were sa-
tisfied therewith^ but such aS) renouncing their own judghient,
and submitting to theirs^ yielded themselves wholly to an iiii«
pUcit faith ; in which, though they found an apparent ease, yet
as, for justifying of themselves, the authority of their belief was
derived more immediately from the churdi, than the Scripture,
not a few difficulties were introduced, concerning both* While
the more speculative sort could not imagine, how to hold that as
an infallible rule, which needed humane help to vindicate and
6uptK)rt it ; nevertheless, as by frequent reading of the Scripture
at this time^ it generaJly appeared what the Romish church had
added or alter^ in religion, so many recovered a just liberty,
endeavouring together a reformation of the doctrine and manners
of the clergy, which yet, through the obstinacy of some, suc^
ceeded worse than so pious intentions deserved."
* William Tyndal, otherwise called Hitchens, was bom on the
borders of Wales, and educated at Oxford. He was one of the
earliest ProtestantSf and so boldly maintained the doctrines of the
Reformation, that he was obliged to leave England. He employe
ed himself, while abroad, in executing a translation, first of the
New Testament, and afterwards of the Pentateuch, with pro-
logues to the different books. But as he was a zealous Lutheran,
and as it had not pleased King Henry VIH. that his subjects
should become Protestants, though they had ceased to be Pa^
Eists, Tyndal's version of the New Testament was publicly
urned) and prohibited by royal proclamation, as tending to
disturb the brains of weak persons. This grossly indecorous ex«i
pression was not altogether without foundation. A rule of ^th,
containing the most sublime doctrines both of faith and moral
practice, and which had long been acknowledged the only guide
to heaven, could not be exposed at once to the vulgar, who had
been bred up in the grossest ignorance of its nature and contents,
without dazzling and confounding them^ as the beams of the
ii;&Lioio LAtci. 25
Sixth, (who had continued to carry On the Reform
mation on other principles than it was begun,) every
one knows, that not only the chief promoters of
thiat work, but many others, whose conscience^
would not dispense with Popery, were forced, for
fear of persecution, to change climates; from whence
returning at the beginning of Queen Elizabeth's
reign, many of them, who had been in France, and
at Greneva, brought back the rigid opinions and
imperious discipUne of Calvin, to graft upon our
Reformation ;* which, though they cunningly con-
cealed at first, (as well knowing how nauseously
that drug would go down in a lawful monarchy,
which was prescribed for a rebellious common-
wealth,) yet they always kept it in reserve ; and
were never wanting to themselves, either in court
or parliament, when either they had any prospect
of a numerous party of fanatic members in the one,
sun suddenly let in upon the inmates of an obscure dungeon. It
was not till the sacred Scriptures, with the expositions of judi-
cious pastors, became a part of the regular education of the peo*
pie, that their minds were duly prepared to make the proper use
of that inestimable gift.
The fate of Tyndal was melancholy enough. By the influence
of Henry, he was seized at Brussels ; and, under pretence of his .
being a pragmatical incendiary, one of the first translators of the
New Testament was strangled and burned, at Filford Castle,
about twenty miles from Antwerp, in 1536. His last words were>
*^ Lord, open the King of England's eyes."
* Heylin says, the reformation would have rested with the first
public liturgy, confirmed by act of parliament in the second and
third years c^ Edward VI., " if Calvin's pragmatical spirit had
not interposed. He first began to quarrel at some passages in
this sacred liturgy, and afterwards never left soliciting the Lord
Protector, and practising, by his agents, on the court, the coun-
try, and the universities, till he had laid the first foundation of
the Zuiuglian faction, who laboured nothing more than innova-
tion both in doctrine and discipline." — Ecctesia Restaurata, Ad-
dress to the Reader.
26 PREFACE TO
or the encouragement of any favourite in the other,
whose covetousness was gaping at the patrimony
of the church. They who will consult the works
of our venerable Hooker,* or the account of his
Life, or more particularly the letter written to him
on this subject, by George Cranmer,f may see by
what gradations they proceeded. From the dislike
of cap and surplice, the very next step was admo-
nitions to the parliament against the whole govern-
ment ecclesiastical ; then came out volumes in Eng-
lish and Latin in defence of their tenets ; and im-
* The learned and judicious Richard Hooker, one of the most
eminent divines of the Church of England, wrote a treatise upon
Ecclesiastical Policy, in which he vindicates that communion,
both against the Puritans and Papists. It is in ^ght books ; five
were published during Hooker's lifetime, and the other three
after his death. The last are supposed to be interpolated, as they
bear some passages tending to impugn the doctrine of non-resist-
ance, which at that time was a shibboleth of orthodoxy. Hooker
died in I6OO. His Life, to which Dryden refers, was-written by
the worthy Isaac Walton, better known as the author of the
*' Complete Angler ;" a delightful work, where the innocent sim-
plicity, unclouded cheerfulness, and real worth of the author^
beam through every page. His Life of Hooker was published
about 1662. See Hawkins's edition of the Complete Angler, In-
troduction, p. 19. AthenoB Oxon, vol. 1. p. 302.
f George Cranmer, whom Wood calls a gentleman of singular
hopes, was grandson to Edmund Cranmer, Arch-deacon of Can-
terbury, brother to Thomas the Primate, who suffered martyrdom
in the reign of Queen Mary. He was bred to state affairs un-
der Secretary Davison ; and after serving in various diplomatic
capacities, became Secretary to Lord Mojintjoy, Lieutenant^ of
Ireland. On the 13th November, I6OO, Cranmer was slain in
a skirmish at Carlingford between the English and the forces of
Tyrone. Camden thus records his death : '' Cecidii iamen ex An^
sUs^ prosier alios, Cranmerus, Proregi ah episiolis^ et ipsi eo notnine
Jonge charissimus," He wrote to Hooker, under whom he had
studied, the letter mentioned in the text concerning the new
church discipline, which is dated February 1598. It is inserted
by Walton in his Life of Hooker. Alketice Oxon. Vol. L p. 306.
RELIGIO LAICI. 27
mediately practices were set on foot to erect their
discipline without authority. Those not succeed-
ing, satire and railing was the next ; and Martin
Mar-prelate,f (the Marvel of those times,) was the
first Presbyterian scribbler, who sanctified libels and
scurrility to the use of the good old cause ; which
was done, (says my author,) upon this account,
that their serious treatises having been fully answer-
ed and refuted, they might compass by railing what
thfy had lost by reasoning ; and, when their cause
was sunk in court and parliament, they might at
least hedge in a stake amongst the rabble, for to
their ignorance all things are wit which are abu-
sive ; but if church and state were made the theme,
then the doctoral degree of wit was to be taken at
Billingsgate ; even the most saintlike of the party,
though they durst not excuse this contempt and
vilifying of the government, yet were pleased, and
t John Penry, or Ap Itoiry, better known by the name of Mar-
tin Mar-prelate^ or Mai^riest^ as having been a plague to the
bishops and clergy of his time. He was a native of Wales, and
originally a sub-sizer of Peter-house^ in Cambridge. Afterwards
he obtained the degree of Master of Arts in Oxford^ and, having
taken cnrders, was for sbme time a regular clergyman. But being
a person " full of Welch bloody of a hot and restless head," An-
thony Wood tells us, he became a furious Anabaptist, and the
most bitter enemy to the Church of England that appeared in
the long reign of Queen Elizabeth. He wrote a great number
of pestilent pamphlets, with burlesque titles ; such as, " Oh, read
over John Bridges, for it is a worthy work. Printed over sea, in
Europe, within two furlongs of a bouncing Priest, at the cost of
Martin Mar-prelate, gent." All his writings were filled with the
most virulent invectives against the Episcopal church. At length,
being apprehended, and tried for writing and publishing infa-
mous books and libels against the established religion, he was
condemned and executed at St Thomas a Watering, 29th May,
1 593. Dryden compares him to Andrew Marvel, the well known
opposer of the court, during the reign of Charles II.
28 PREFACE TO
grinned at it with a pious smile, and called it a
judgment of God against the hierarchy. Thus sec-
taries, we may see, were bom with teeth, foul-
mouthed, and scurrilous from their infancy ; and if
spiritual pride, venom, violence, contempt of supe-
riors, and slander, had been the marks of orthodox
belief, the presbytery, and the rest of our schis-
matics, which are their spawn, were always the
most visible church in the Christian world.*
It is true, the government was too strong at tfkat
time for a rebellion ; but, to shew what proficiency
they had made in Calvin's school, even then their
mouths watered at it ; for two of their gifted bro-
therhood, Hacket and Coppinger, as the story tells
us, got up in a pease-cart and harangued the peo-
ple, to dispose them to an insurrection, and to esta-
blish their discipline by force ;f so that, however
* The court writers at this period were anxious to fix upon the
Presbyterians and the non-conformists in general, the anti-mo-
narchical principles of the fanatics, who brought Charles I. to the
scaffold.^ Their arguments may be seen at length in a book enti-
tled, •' Seditious Teachers, ungodly Preachers exemplified."
These charges are carried too far ; yet as the Episcopalians made
church and king their watch word, the fanatics, on the contrary,
in England, and the Huguenots in France, had a certain tendency
to oppose monarchical government. One of their authors, as early
as ue reign of Queen Elizabeth, maintains, that if kings and
princes refused to reform religion, the inferior magistrates or
people, by direction of the ministry, might lawfully, and ought,
if need required, even by force of arms, to reform it themselves.
"^Whittingham's Preface to Goodman on Obedience to Superior
Paaoers.
+ The freaks of these unhappy enthusiasts may be seen in the
histories of the time. Hacket, a man of some learning, had his
brain turned by enthusiasm, and seduced Coppinger and Arthing-
ton, two fanatic preachers, by his example and exhortation, to
sally forth into the streets of London, where he proclaimed him-
self to be the Messiah, and Coppinger and Arthington, his pro-
phet of mercy, and his prophet of judgment. As they continued
to utter the most horrible blasphemies, and to exhort the citizens
RELIGIO LAICI. 29
it comes about, that now they celebrate Queen
Elizabeth's birth-night, as that of their saint and
patroness ; yet then they were for doing the work
of the Lord by arms against her ;f and in all pro-
bability they wanted but a fanatic lord-mayor, and
two sheriffs of their party, to have compassed it4
Our venerable Hooker, after many admonitions
which he had given them, towards the end of his
preface breaks out into this prophetic speech :
" There is in every one of these considerations most
just cause to fear, lest our haste to embrace a thing
of so perilous consequence, (meaning the presby te-
rian discipline,) should cause posterity to feel those
evils, which as yet are more easy for us to prevent,
than they would be for them to remedy."
How fatally this Cassandra has foretold, we know
too well by sad experience. The seeds were sown
in the time of Queen Elizabeth ; the bloody harvest
ripened in the reign of King Charles the Martyr ;
and, because all the sheaves could not be carried off
without shedding some of the loose grains, another
to take arms^ to further the reign of Hacket^ who, they said^ was
come with his fan in his hand to purify the discipline of the church
of England^ they were seized and lodged in prison. Hacket was
executed^ though fitter for Bedlam^ persisting to the last in the
most insane blasphemy. The discipline of the prison restored
Arthington to his senses^ and he pubhshed a recantation, express-
ing great remorse for his errors. Coppinger starved himself to
death in jail. This explosion of madness took place in 1591.
Hacket is stated by Camden to have been a determmed enemy to
Queen Elizabeth^ and to have stabbed her picture with his dagger.
t The birth-night of Queen Elizabetn was that which the
Whigs chose to solemnize, by their grand pope-burnings and
processions ; considering her as the patron of the Protestant re^
ligion. Yet Queen Elizabeth was very severe against the Puri-
tans, and passed several statutes against them.
X See the notes on ^' Absalom and Achitophel/' Vol. IX. pages
280, 404.
30 PREFACE TO
crop is too like to follow ; nay, I fear it is unavoicia-
ble, if the oonventiders be permitted still to scatty*.
A man may be suffered to quote an adversary to
our religion, when he speaks truth ; and it is the
observation of Maimbourg,* in his ** History of Cal-
vinism,^ that wherever that discipline was planted
and embraced, rebellion, civil war, and misery, at-
tended it. And how indeed should it happen other-
wise ? Reformation of church and state has always
been the ground of our divisions in England. While
we were Papists, our Holy Father rid us, by pretend-
ing authorit]^ out of the Scriptures to depose prin-
ces ; when we shook off his authority, the sectaries
furnished themselves with the same weapons, and
out of the same magazine, the Bible ; so that the
Scriptures, which are in themselves the greatest se-
curity of governors, as commanding express obedi-
ence to them, are now turned to their destruction ;
and never since the Reformation has there wanted
a text of their interpreting to authorize a rebel. And
it is to be noted by the way, that the doctrines of
king-killing and deposing, which have been taken
up only by the worst party of the Papists, the most
frohtless flatterers of the Pope's authority, have
been espoused, defended, and are still maintained,
by the whole body of non-conformists and republi-
cans. It is but dubbing themselves the people of
God, which it is the interest of their preachers to
* Lewis Maimbourg, a secularized Jesuit, wrote a History of
Calvinism, in which he charges upon the Huguenots the princi-
pal share of the guilt of the civil wars of France. He charges
them particularly with the conspiracies of Amboise and Meaux
against the crown ; and alleges, it was their intention, by the as-
sistance of England^ and the Protestant states of Germany, with
whom they corresponded^ to establish a republic in France. His
arguments are controverted in an '' Apology for the Protestants
ofjfrance, in six letters." London, l683.
RELIGIO LATCI. 31
tell them they are, and their own interest to be-
lieve, and after that, they cannot dip into the Bible,
but one text or another will turn up for their pur-
pose : if they are under persecution, as they call it,
then that is a mark of their election ; if they flou-
rish, then God works miracles for their deliverance,
and the saints are to possess the earth.
They may think themselves to be too roughly
handled in this paper ; but I, who know best how
far I could have gone on this subject, must be bold
to tell them they are spared ; though, at the same
time, I am not ignorant, that they- interpret the
mildness of a writer to them, as they do the mercy
of the government ; in the one they think it fear,
and conclude it weakness in the other. The best
way for them to confute me is, as I before advised
the Papists, to disclaim their principles, and re-
nounce their practices. We shall all be glad to
think them true Englishmen, when they obey the
king ; and true Protestants, when they conform to
the church- discipline.
It remains that I acquaint the reader, that the
verses were written for an ingenious young gentle-
man, my friend, upon his translation of " The Cri-
ticaKHistory of the Old Testament," composed by
the learned Father Simon :* the verses, therefore,
are addressed to the translator of that wopk, and
the style of them is, what it ought to be, episto-
lary.!
* Pere Richard Simon was an excellent Orientalist He was
an oratorian priest^ and published, besides the work here men-
tioned, ^' A critical History of the New Testament," and a new
Version of it, which was censured by Cardinal de Noailles, Arch-
bishop of Paris, and opposed by Bossuet, the learned Bishop of-
Meaux. Pere Simon was an able biblical critic, an excellent
scholar, and one of the most learned divines of his age.
t Derrick erroneously states this young gentleman to have
32 PREFACE, &iC.
If any one be so lamentable a critic as to require
the smoothness, the numbers, and the turn of he-
roic poetry in this poem, I must tell him, that if
he has not read Horace, I have studied him, and
hope the style of his epistles is not ill imitated here.
The expressions of a poem, designed purely for in-
struction, ought to be plain and natural, and yet
majestic ; for here the poet is presumed to be a kind
of Lawgiver, and those three qualities, which I have
named, are proper to the legislative style. The
florid, elevated, and figurative way, is for the pas-
sions ; for love and hatred, fear and anger, are be-
gotten in the soul, by shewing their objects out of
their true proportion, either greater than the life,
or less ; but instruction is to be given by shewing
them what they naturally are. A man is to be
cheated into passion, but to be reasoned into truth.
been Hampden^ son of the famous parliamentary leader, who was
deeply engaged in the Rye-house plot, and some years afterwards
killed himself. Dryden was not likely, in the very hottest of his
political controversy, to be on very intimate habits with a leader
of the Whigs, much less to inscribe to him a poem, the preface of
which, at least, is levelled against the most zealous of that party.
Besides, the translation of Pere Simon's Critical Histoiy, which
was published in 1682, bears to have been made by H. D. which
initials can hardly stand for John Hampden* Mr Malone con-
jectures he may have been of the Digby family, or perhaps Mr
Dodswell, who translated one of Plutarch's lives. But it appears,
from a poem addressed to the Translator by Duke, that his name
was Henry Dickinson, probably a son of Edmund Dickinson, a
physician, and author of the Delphi Phenecizantes, and other
learned pieces. jHherne Oxon. Vol. II. p. 946. There is another
copy of verses, addressed to the Translator of the " Critical His-
tory" in Dryden's " Miscellanies." So that Dickinson*s work
seems to have attracted much notice at the time of its publication.
RECOMMENDATORY VERSES.
BBBBaeBOBeSBSB
ON
MR DRYDEN's
RELIGIO LAICL
Bs60K£> you ftlftves^ you idle vennin^ go^
Fly from the scourges^ and your master know ;
Let free^ impartial men from Dryden learn
Mysterious secrets of hi^h concern^
And weighty truths^ sohd convincing sense^
Explain'd by unafibcted eloquencei
"What can you^ Reverend Levi^ here take ill ?
Men still had &ults^ and men will have them still ;
He that hath none> and lives as angels do.
Must be an angel ; — ^but what's that to you ?
While mighty Lewis finds the Pope too great.
And dreads the yoke of his imposing seat.
Our sects a more tyrannic power assume.
And would for scorpions change the rods of Rome*
That church detain d the legacy divine ;
Fanatics cast the pearls of heaven to swine :
What, then, have honest thinking men to do.
But chuse a mean between the usurping two ?
Nor can the Egyptian patriarch blame a muse.
Which for his fiimness does his heat excuse ;
Whatever counsels have approved his creed.
The pre&oe, sure, was his own act and deed.
Our church will have the preface read, youll say :
'Tis true, but so she will the Apocrypha ;
And such as can believe them freely may.
But did that God, so little understood.
Whose darling attribute is being good.
From the dark womb of the rude chaos bring
Such various creatures, and make man their king,
VOL. X. C
}
34 ' RECOMMENDATORY VERSES.
Yet leave his fitvourite^ man^ his chiefest care^
More wretched than the vilest insects are P
O ! how much happier and more safe are they.
If helpless millions must be doom'd a prey
To yelling furies^ and for ever hum
In that sad place, from whence is no return.
For unbelief in one they never knew.
Or for not doing what they could not do ! ^
The very fiends know for what crime they fell, '
And so do all their followers that rebel ;
If then a blind, well-meaning Indian strav,
Sliall the great gulph be shew d him for the way ?
For better ends our kind Redeemer died,
Or the fall'n angels' rooms will be but ill supplied.
That Christ, who at the great deciding day,
(For he declares what he resolves to say^
Will damn the goats for their ill-natured faults.
And save the sheep for actions, not for thoughts.
Hath too much mercy to send them to hell.
For humble charity, and hoping welL
To what stupidity are zealots grown^
Whose inhumanitv, profusely shown
In damning crowds of souls, may damn their own !
Ill err, at least, on the securer side,
A convert free from malice and from pride.
ROSCOHMON.
}
TO
MR DRYDEN,
ON HIS POEM CALLED
RELIGIO LAICI.
Great is the task, and worthy such a muse.
To do faith rieht, yet reason (usabuse.
How cheerfully the squI does take its flight
On faith's strong win^s, guided by reason's light !
But reason does in vain her beams display.
Shewing to th' place, whence first she came, the way
If Peter s heirs must still hold fast the key.
The house, which many mansions should contain.
Formed by the great wise Architect in vain.
Of disproportion justly we. accuse.
If the strait gate still entrance must refuse.
5
■}
}
RELIGIO LAICI. 35
The only free enriching port God made, 1
What shameful monopoly did invade ? >
One factious company engross'd'the trade. J
Thou to the distant shore hast safely sail'd^
Where the hest pilots have so often fafl'd.
Freely we now may huy the pearl of price ;* 1
The happy land abounds with fragrant spice^ >
And nothing is forbidden there but vice. J
Thou best Columbus to the unknown world !
Mountains of doubt^ that in thy way were hurled^
Thy generous faith has bravely overcome^
And made heaven truly our familiar home.
Let crowds impossibilities receive ;
Who cannot think^ ought not to disbelieve.
Let them pay tithes^ and hood-wink'd go to heaven :
But sure the Quaker could not be forgiven^
Had not the derk^ who hates lay-policy^
Found out^ to countervail the injury.
Swearings a trade of which they are not free.
Too long has captive reason been enslaved^
By visions scared^ and airy phantasms braved^
List'ning to each proud enthusiastic fool^
Pretending oonadence^ but des^ning rule ;
Whilst law^ form, interest, ignorance, design.
Did in the holy cheat togetho' join.
Like vain astrologers, gazing on the skies.
We fall, and did not dare to trust our eyen.
'Tis time at last to fix the trembling soul.
And by thy compass to point out the pole ;
All men agree in what is to be done.
And each man's heart his table is of stone.
Where he the god- writ character may view ;
Were it as needful, faith had been so too.
Oh, that our greatest fault were humble doubt.
And that we were more just, though less devout !
What reverence should we pay thy sacred rhymes.
Who, in these factious too-buievmg times.
Has taught us to obey, and to distrust ;
Yet, to ourselves, our king, and Grod, prove just.
Thou want'st not praise from an insuring friend ;
The poor to thee on double interest lend.
So strong thy reasons; and so dear thy sense.
They bnng, like day, their own brieht evidence ;
Yet, whilst mysterious truths to light you bring,
And heavenly things in heavenly numbers sing.
The joyful younger choir may <aap the wing.
36 RECOMMENDATOEY VERSES.
TO
MR DRYDEN,
ON
RELIGIO LAICL
'Tis nobly done^ a layman's creed profcsty
When all our faith of late hung on a priest ;
His doubtful words, like oracles received^
And^ when we could not understand^ beUeved.
Triumphant fiiith now takes a nobler course^
'Tis gentle^ but resists intruding force.
Weak reason may pretend an awful sway.
And consistories charge her to obey ;
estrange nonsense^ to confine the sacred Dove^
And narrow rules prescribe how he shall love^
And how upon the barren waters move.)
But she rejects and scorns their proud pretence^
And^ whilst those grovling things depend on sense.
She mounts on certain wings, and flies on high.
And looks upon a dazzling mystery.
With fixed, and steady, and an eagle's eye.
Great kin^ of verse, that dost instruct and please.
As Orpheus soften'd the rude savages ;
And gently freest us from a double care.
The bold Socinian, and the papal chair :
Thy judgment is correct, thy fancy young.
Thy nimibers, as thy generous fidui, are strong :
Whilst through dark prejudice they force their way.
Our souls sh&e off the night, and view the day.
We live secure from mad enthusiasts' rage.
And fond tradition, now grown blind with age.
Let &ctious and ambitious souls repine, *^
Thy reason's strong, and generous thy design ; >
And always to do well is only thine. 3
Tho. Creech.
I
}
RELIGIO LAICI.
Dim as the borrpw'd beams of mooiyind stars
To lonely^ weary, wandering travellers,
Is reason to the soul : and as, on high.
Those rolling fires discover but the sky.
Not light us here ; so reason's glimmering ray "I
Was lent, not to assure our doubtful way, >
But guide us upwards to a better day. }
And as those nightly tapers disappear.
When day's bright lord ascends our hemisphere ;
So pale grows reason at religion's sight.
So dies, and so dissolves in supernatural light.
Some few,, whose lamp shone brighter^ have been led
From cause to cause, to nature's sacred head.
And found that one First Principle must be :
But what, or who, that universal He ;
Whether some soul, encompassing this ball.
Unmade, unmoved ; yet making, moving all ;
Or various atoms' interfering dance
Leap'd into form, the noble work of chance ;
Or this great All was from eternity, —
Not even the Stagyrite himself could see.
And Epicurus guess'd, as well as he.
38 KELIGIO LAICI.
As blindly groped they for a future state.
As rashly judged of providence and fate ;
But least of all could their endeavours find
What most concem'd the good of human kind ;
For happiness was never to be found.
But vanish'd from them like enchanted ground.*
One thought content the good to be enjoy'd ;
This very little accident destroyed :
The wiser madmeii did for virtue tdl,
A thorny, or, at best, a barren soil :
In pleasure some their glutton souls would steep ; "I
But found their line too short, the well too deep, >
And leaky vessels which no bliss could keep. J
Thus anxious thoughts in endless circles roll.
Without a centre where to fix the soul :
In this wild maase their vain endeavours end :— ^
How can the less the ^eater comprehend ?
Or finite reason reach mfinity ?
For what could fathom God Were more than he.-
The Deist thinks he stands on firmer ground ;
Cries Eupfxa ! the mighty secret's found :
God is that spring of good, supreme and best.
We made to ser,ve, and in that service blest.
If so, some rules of worship must be given.
Distributed alike to all by heaven ;
Else God were partial, and to some denied
The m^ans his justice should for all provide.
This general worship is to praise and pray ;
One part to borrow blessings, one to pay ;
And when firail nature slides into offence.
The sacrifice for crimes is penitence.
* The author applies the same simile to the use of rhyme m
tragedy ;
Passion's too fierce to be in fetters bound.
And natute flies him like enchanted ground.
Prologtte to Aur^ng'Zebf*
RELIGIO LAICI. 39
Yet since the effects of providence, we find,
Are variously dispensed to human kind ;
That vice triumphs, and virtue suffers here,
A brand that sovereign justice cannot bear ;
Our reason prompts ua to a future state.
The last appeal from fortune and fi*om fate.
Where Good's all-righteous ways will be declared ;
The bad meet punishment, the good reward;
Thus man by his own strength to heaven would
soar.
And would not be obliged to God for more.
Vain wretched creature, how art thou misled,
To think thy wit these god-like notions bred !
These truths are not the product of thy mind.
But dropt from heaven, and of a nobler kind.
Reveal'd religion first informed thy sight,
And reason saw not till faith sprung the light.
Hence all thy natural worship takes the source ;
'Tis revelation what thou think'st discourse.
Else how com'st thou to see these truths so clear.
Which so obscure to heathens did appear ?
Not Plato these, nor Aristotle found.
Nor he whose wisdom oracles renowned.
Hast thou a wit so deep, or so sublime.
Or canst thou lower dive, or higher dimb ?
Canst thou by reason more of godhead know
Than Plutarch, Seneca, or Cicero ?
Those giant wits, in happier ages bom.
When arms and arts did Greece and Rome adorn.
Knew no such system ; no such piles could raise
Of natural worship, built <in prayer and praise
To one sole God ;
Nor did remorse to expiate sin prescribe.
But slew their fellow-creatures for a bribe :
The guiltless victim groan'd for their offence.
And cruelty and blood was penitence.
40 RELIGIO LAICI.
If sheep and oxen could atone for men,
Ah ! at how cheap a rate the rich might sin !
And great oppressors might heaven's wrath beguile,
By offering his own creatures for a spoil !
Darest thou, poor worm, offend Infinity,
And must the terms of peace be given by thee ?
Then thou art justice in the last appeal ;
Thy easy Grod instructs thee to rebel ;
And, like a king remote and weak, must take
What satisfaction thou art pleased to make.
But if there be a Power too just and strong.
To wink at crimes, and bear unpunished wrong ;
Xiook humbly upward, see his will disclose
The forfeit first, and then the fine impose ;
A mulct thy povierty could never pay.
Had not Eternal Wisdom found the way.
And with celestial wealth supplied thy store ;
I£is justice makes the fine, his mercy quits the score.
See' God descending in thy human frame ;
The offended suffenng in the offender's name ;
All thy misdeeds to him imputed see.
And all his righteousness devolved on thee.
For, granting we have sinii'd, and that the o£fence
Of man is made against Omnipotence,
Some price that bears proportion must be paid.
An infinite with infinite be weigh'd.
See then the Deist lost : remorse for vice
Not paid, or paid inadequate in price :
What farther, means can reason now direct.
Or what relief fi:om human wit expect ?
That shews us sick; and sadly are we sure
Still to be sick, till heaven reveal the cure :
If then heaven's will must needs be understopd.
Which must, if we want cure, and heaven be good.
Let all records of will reveal'd be shown ;
With Scripture all in equal balance thrown,
And our one sacred Book will be that one.
IIEI4IGIO LAICI. 41
Proof needs not here ; for, whether we compare
That impious, idle, Isuperstitious ware
Of rites, lustrations, offerings, which before.
In various ages, various countries bore.
With christian faith and virtues, we shall find
None answering the great ends of human kind.
But this one rule of life ; that shews us best
How God may be appeased and mortals blest.
Whether from length of time its worth we draw.
The word is scarce more ancient than the law :
Heaven's early care prescribed for every age ;
First, in the soul, and after, in the page.
Or, whether more abstractedly we look.
Or on the writers, or the written book.
Whence, but from heaven, could men unskilled in arts.
In several ages bom, in several parts.
Weave such agreeing truths ? or how, or why.
Should all conspire to cheat us with a lie ?
Unask'd their pains, ungrateful their advice.
Starving their gain, and martyrdom their price.
If on the bodi itself we cast our view,
Concurrent heathens prove the story true :
The doctrine, miracles ; which must convince.
For heaven in them appeals to human sense ;
And, though they prove not, they confirm the cause.
When what i,s taught agrees with nature's laws.
' Then for the style, majestic and divine.
It speaks no less than Gk)d in every line ; .
Commanding words, whose force is still the same
As the first fiat that produced our frame.
All faiths, beside, or did by arms ascend.
Or sense indulged has made mankind their friend ;
This only doctrine does our lusts oppose.
Unfed by nature's soil, in which it grows ;
Cross to our interests, curbing sense, and sin ;
Oppress'd without, and undermined within.
42 RELIGIO LAICI.
It thrives through pain ; it's own tormentors tires,
And with a stubborn patience still aspires.
To what can reason such effects assign,
Transcending nature, but to laws divine ?
Which in that sacred volume are Contain'd,
Sufficient, clear, and for that use ordain'd.
But stay : the Deist here will urge anew.
No supernatural worship can be true ;
Because a general law is that alone
Which must to all, and every where, be known ;
A style so larjge as not this book can claim.
Nor aught that bears reveal'd religion's name.
'Tis said, the sound of a Messiah's birth
Is gone through all the habitable earth ;
But still that text must be confined alone
To what was then inhabited, and known ;
And what provision could from thence accrue
To Indian souls, and worlds discover'd new ?
In other parts it helps, that, ages past.
The Scriptures there wereknown, and wereembraced,
Till sin spread once again the shades of night :
What's that to these who never saw the light ?
Of all objections this indeed is chief.
To startle reason, stagger frail belief:
We grant, 'tis true, that heaven from human 6ense
Has hid the secret paths of providence ;
But boundless wisdom, boundlesis mercy, may
Find even for those bewilder'd souls a way.
If from his nature foes may pity claim,
Muchmore may strangers, who ne'erheard his name;
And, though no name be for salvation known.
But that of his eternal Son's * alone ;
* All the editions read Son's, which seems to make a double
genitive, unless we construe the line to mean^ " the name of his
Eternal Son's salvation." I own I should have been glad to have
found an authority for reading Son,
BELIGIO LAICI. 43
Who knows how far transcending goodness can
Extend the merits of that Son to man ?
Who knows what reasons may his mercy lead.
Or ignorance invincible may plead ?
Not only charity bids hope the best.
But more the great apostle has exprest :
That, if the Gr^itiles, whom no law inspired.
By nature did what was by law required ;
They, who 'the written rule had never known.
Were to themselves both rule and law alone ;
To nature's pkin indictment they shall plead.
And by their conscience be condemn^, or freed.
Most righteous doom ! because a rule reveal'd
Is none to those from whom it was conceal'd.
Then those, who followed reason's dictates right.
Lived up^ and lifted high their natural light,
With Socrates may see their Maker's face.
While thousand rubric-martyrs want a place.
Nor does it baulk my charity, to find
The Egyptian Bishop of another mind ;
For, though his Creed eternal truth contains,
'Tis hard for man to doom to endless pains
All, who believed not all his zeal required ;
Unless he first could prove he was inspired.
Then let us either think he meant to say.
This faith, where publish'd, was the only way ;
Or else conclude, that, Arius to confute.
The good old man, too eager in dispute.
Flew high ; and, as his christian fury rose,
Damn'd all for heretics who durst oppose.
Thus far my charity this path has tried ;
A much unskilful, but well-meaning guide :
Yet what they are, even these crude thoughts were
bred
By reading that which better thou hast read ;
44 RELIGIO LAiei«
Thy matchless author's work, which thou, my friend,
By well translating better dost commend ;*
Those youthful hours which, of thy equals, most
In toys have squandered, or in vice have lost.
Those hours hast thou to nobler use employed.
And the severe delights of truth enjoy'd.
Witness this weighty book, in whioi appears
The crabbed toil of many thoughtful years.
Spent by thy author, in the sifting care
0£ rabbins' old sophisticated ware
From gold divine ; which he who well can sort
May afterwards make algebra a sport ;
A treasure which, if country-curates buy,
They Junius and Tremellius may defy ;+
Save pains in various readings and translations.
And without Hebrew make most leam'd quotations;
A work so full with various learning fraught.
So nicely ponder'd, yet so strongly wrought.
As nature's height and art's last hand required ;
As much as man could compass, uninspired ;
Where we may see what errors have beeii made
Both in the copiers' and translators' trade ;
How Jewish, Popish, interests have prevail'd.
And where infallibility has fail'd.
For some, who have his secret meaning guess'd.
Have found our author not too much a priest ;
For fashion-sake he seems to have recourse
To pope, and councils, and traditions' force ;
But be that old traditions could subdue.
Could not but find the weakness of the new :
* Simon's Critical History of the Old Testament^ translated
by the young gentleman to whom the poem is addressed. — See
Preface.
t Calvinistic divines^ who made translations of the Scripture,
with commentaries, on which Pere Simon makes learned criti-
cisms.
REHGIO LAICX* 45
I
If Scripturp, though derived from heavenly birth,
Has been but carelessly preserved on earth ;
If .Gtod's own people, who of God before
Knew what we know, ^nd had been promised more.
In fuller terms, of heaven's assisting care.
And who did neither time nor study spare
To keep this book untainted, unperplext.
Let in gross errors to corrupt the text.
Omitted paragraphs, embroU'd the sense.
With vain traditions stopt the gaping fence,
Which every common hand puU'd up with ease, —
What safety from such brushwood-helps as these ?
If written words from time are not secured.
How can we think have oral sounds endured ?
Which thus transmitted, if one mouth has fail'd.
Immortal lies on ages are entail'd ;
And that some such have been, is proved too plain.
If we consider interest, church, and gain.
O but, says one, tradition set aside.
Where can we hope for an unerring guide ?
For, since the original Scripture has been lost.
All copies disagreeing, maim'd the most.
Or Christian faith can have no certain ground.
Or truth in church-tradition must be found.
Such an omniscient church we wish indeed ;
'Twere worth both Testaments, cast in the Creed :
But if this mother be a guide so sure.
As can all doubts resolve, all truth secure.
Then her infallibility as well
Where copies are corrupt or lame can tell ;
Restore lost canons with as little pains.
As truly explicate what still remains ;
Which yet no council dare pretend to do.
Unless, like Esdras, they could write it new
Strange confidence still to interpret true.
Yet not be sure that all they have explain'd.
Is in the blest original contain*d.
46 RELIGIO I^AICI.
More safe, and much more modest 'tis, to say
God would not leave mankind without a way ;
And that the Scriptures, though not every where
Free from corruption, or entire, or clear.
Are uncorrupt, sufficient, clear, entire.
In all things which our needful faith require.
If others in the same glass better see,
'Tis for themselves they look, but not for me ;
For my salvation must its doom receive.
Not from what others, but what I believe.
Must all tradition then be set -aside ?
This to affirm were ignorance or pride.
Are there not many points, some needful sure
To saving faith, that Scripture leaves obsciire ?
Which every sect will wrest a several way.
For what one sect interprets, all sects may.
We hold, and say we prove from Scripture plain.
That Christ is God ; the bold Socinian
From the same Scripture urges he's but man.'
Now what appeal can end the important suit ?
Both parts talk loudly, but the rule is mute.
Shall I speak plain, and, in a nation free.
Assume an honest layman's liberty ?
I think, according to my little skill.
To my own mother-church submitting still.
That many have been saved, and many may.
Who never heard this question brought in play.
The unletter'd Christian, who believes in gross.
Plods on to heaven, and ne'er is at a loss ;
For the strait gate would be made straiter yet.
Were none admitted there but men of wit.
* The Socinians, or followers of Lelius Socinius, denied the
doctrine of the Trinity and of Redemption. The modem Uni-
tarians have embraced some of the principles of this sect.
BELIGIO LAICI. 47
The few by nature form'd, with learning fraught.
Born to instruct, as others to be taught.
Must study well the sacred page ; and see
Which doctrine, this or that, does best agree
With the whole tenor of the work divine,
And plainliest points to heaven's reveal'd design ;
Which exposition flows from genuine sertse.
And which is forced by wit and eloquence.
Not that tradition's parts are useless here.
When general, old, disinterested, and clear.
That ancient fathers thus expound the page.
Gives truth the reverend majesty of age ;
Confirms its force by bideing every test ;
For best authorities, next rules, are best ;
And still the nearer to the spring we go.
More limpid, more unsoil'd, the waters flow.
Thus, first, traditions were a proof alone ;
Could we be certain, such they were, so known ;
But since some flaws in long descent may be.
They make not truth, but probability.
Even Arius and Pelagius durst provoke
To what the centuries preceding spoke :*
Such difierence is there in an oft-told tale ;
But truth by its own sinews will prevail.
Tradition written, therefore, more commends
Authority, than what from voice descends ;
And this, as perfect as its kind can be,
Rolls down to us the sacred history ;
Which, from the universal church received.
Is tried, and, after, for itself believed.
The partial Papists would infer from hence.
Their church, in last resort, should judge the sense.
* The founders of two noted heresies, who, nevertheless,, as the
poet observes, ventured to appeal to the traditions of the church
in support of their doctrines.
48 RELIGIO LAICL
But first they would assume, with wonderous art,
Themselves to be the whole, who are but part
Of that vast frame, the Churdi ; yet erant they were
The banders down, can they from mence imer
A right to interpret ? or, would they, alone
Who brought the present, claim it for their own ?
The book's a common largess to mankind.
Not more for them than every man designed ;
The welcome news is in the letter found ;
The carrier's not commission'd to expound.
It speaks itself, and what it does contain.
In all things needful to be known, is plain.
In times o'ergrown with rust and ignorance,
A gainful trade their clergy did advance ;
When want of learning kept the laymen low.
And none but priests were authorized to know ;
When what small knowledge was, in themdid dwell,
And he a god, who could but read and spell, —
Then Mother Church did mightily prevail :
She parcell'd out the Bible by retail ; ^
But still expounded what she sold or gave.
To keep it in her power to damn and save.
Scripture was scarce, and, as the market went.
Poor laymen took salvation on content.
As needy men take money, good or bad.
Gk>d's word they had not, but the priest's they had ;
Yet whate'er false conveyances they made.
The lawyer still was certain to be paid.
In those dark times they learn'd their knack so well,
That by long use they grew infaUible.
At last, a knowing age began to enquire
If they the book, or that did them inspire ;
And, making narrower search, they found, though
late,
Thatwhat they thought the priest's, was their estate;
Taught by the will produced, the written word.
How long they had been cheated on record.
RELIGIO LAICI. 49
Then every man, who saw the title fair,
Claim'd a child's part, and put in for a share ;
Consulted soberly his private good.
And saved himself as cheap as e'er he could.
'Tis true, my friend, — and far be flattery hence, —
This good had full as bad a consequence ;
The book thus put in every vulgar hand.
Which each presumed he best could understand.
The common rule was made the common prey.
And at the mercy of the rabble lay.
The tender page with horny fists was gall'd.
And he was ^ted most, that loudest bawl'd ;
The spirit gave the doctoral degree.
And every member of a company
Was of his trade and of the Bible free.
Plain truths enough for needful use they found ;
But men would still be itching to expound ;
Each was ambitious of the obscurest place,
No measure ta'en fi:om knowledge, all from grace.
Study and pains were now no more their care ;
Texts were explain'd by fasting and by prayer :
This was the fruit the private spirit brought,
Occasion'd by great zeal and little thought.
While crowds unleam'd, with rude devotion warm.
About the sacred viands buz and swarm ;
The fly-blown text creates a crawling brood,
And turns to maggots what was meant for food. *
* Perhaps this idea is borrowed from " Hudibras :
The learned write, an insect breeze
Is but a mongrel prince of bees.
That falls berore a storm on cows.
And stings the founders of his house.
From whose corrupted flesh, that breed
Of vermin did at first proceed.
So, ere the storm of war broke out,
Rdigion spawn'd a various rout
Of petulant capricious sects,
The maggots of corrupted texts,
VOL. X. D
»f
50 HELIGIO LAICI,
A thousand daily sects rise up and die ;
A thousand more the perish'd race supply ;
So all we make of heaven's discover'd will.
Is not to have it, oi to use it ill.
The danger's much the same ; on several shelves
If others wreck us, or we wreck ourselves.
What then remains, but, waiving each extreme,
The tides of ignorance and pride to stem ;
Neither so rich a treasure to forego.
Nor proudly seek beyond our power to know ?
Faith is not built on disquisitions vain ;
The things we must believe are few and plain :
But since men will believe more than they need,
And every man will make himself a creed.
In doubtful questions 'tis the safest way
To learn what unsuspected ancients say ;
For 'tis not likely we should higher soar
In search of heaven, than all the church before ;
Nor can we be deceived, unless we see
The Scripture and the Fathers disagree.
If, after all, they stand suspected still,
(For no man's faith depends upon his will,)
'Tis some relief, that points, not clearly known.
Without much hazard may be let alone ;
And, after hearing what our church can say.
If still our reason runs another way.
That private reason 'tis more just to curb.
Than by disputes the public peace disturb :
For points obscure are of small use to learn ;
But common quiet is mankind's concern.
Thus have I made my own opinions clear.
Yet neither praise expect, nor censure fear ;
And this unpolish'd rugged verse I chose.
As fittest for discourse, and nearest prose ;
That first run all religion down,
And after every swarm its own.
Hudibras, Part III. canto 2.
BELIGIO LAICI. 51
For while from sacred truth I do not swerve,
Tom Sternhold's, or Tom Shadwell's rhymes will
serve."
^ * The famous Tom Brown is pleased to droll on this associa-
tion of persons ; being a part of the punishment which he says
the Laureat inflicted on Shadwell for presuming to dispute his
theatrical infallibility. " But, gentlemen^ when I had thus, in
the plenitude of my power, issued out the above-mentioned de«
cretal epistles, you cannot imagine what abundance of adversa-
ries I created myself: some were for appealing to a free unbias-
sed S3niod of impartial authors ; others were for suing out a quo
warranto, to examine the validity of my charter. Not to mention
those of higher quality, I was immediately set upon by the fierce
Elkanah, the Empress of Morocco's agent, who at that time com-
manded a party of Moorish horse^ in order to raise the Siege of
Grenada ; and a fat old gouty gentleman, commonly called the
King of Basan, who had almost devoured the stage with free quar-
ter for his men of wit and humourists. But I countermined all
their designs against my crown and person in a moment ; for I
presently got the one to be dressed up in a sanbenit, under the
unsanctified name of Doeg ; the other I coupled myself with his
namesake Tom Stemhold. Being thus degraded from their poeti-
cal functions, and become incapable of crowning princes, raising
ghosts, and offering any more incense of flattery to the living and
the dead, I delivered them over to the secular arm, to be chasti-
sed by the furious dapper-wits of the Inns of Court, and the
young critics of the university. Furthermore, to prevent all in-
fection of their errors, I directed my monitory letters to the Sieur
Batterton, advising him to keep no correspondence, either di-
rectly, or indirectly, with those foresaid <ipostates from sense and
reason ; adding, that in case of neglect, I would certainly put
the theatre under an interdict, send a troop of dragoons from
Drury-Lane to demolish his garrison in Salisbury-court, and ab-
solve all his subjects, even to the sub-deacons and acolythes of
the stage, his trusty door-keepers and candle-lighters, from their
oaths of fealty and aUegjiaxice," -^Reasons for MrBayes* changing
his Religion,
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS :
FUNERAL PINDARIC POEM,
SACKED TO TH£
HAPPY MEMORY OP
KING CHAKLES 11.
Fortunati ambo si quid mea carmina passwit,
NuUa dies unquam memori vos emmet cevo.
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
The death of Charles II. was sudden and unexpected. After
he had apparently completely subdued the popular party^ and
was preparing, as -has been confidently alleged, a similar conquest
over the high-flying followers of the Duke of York, in the midst
of his present triumph and future projects, he was, on the morn-
ing of the '2d February, 1684-5, seized with a sudden fit, which
resembled an apoplexy. He was bled by one King, a chemist, who
happened to be in waiting, and experienced a temporary relief.
From the 2d till the 6th, he continued in a languishing state, the
Duke of York being in constant attendance on his deathbed. On
the forenoon of the 6th, Charles died, to the general grief of his
subjects, by whom he was personally beloved, and who had reason
to fear, that his worst public measures would be followed out
with more rigour by his successor.
A numerous host of rhymers stepped forward with their condo-
lences upon this event.* Among these, we find few eminent names
* The following Noenia, among others, occur in Mr LuttrdPs Collection :
" A Pindarick Ode, by Sir F. F. Knight of the Bath."
*< A Pindarick Ode on the Death of our late Sovereign, with an ancient Pro-
phecy on his present Majesty, by Afra Behn.*^
*< A Poem, humbly dedicated to the Great Pattern of Piety and Virtue,
Catherine, Queen Dowager, on the Death of her dear Lord and Husband, King
Charles II. By the Same. (4th April, 1685.)"
*•' The Vision, a Pindarick Ode, by Edmund Arwaker, M. A."
*< The Second Part of Ditto, on the Coronation of James and Mary.*' This
author poured forth a similar effusion upon the death of Queen Mary.
" A Pindarick Ode on the Death of Charles II., by J. H."
Ireland*8 Tears to the sacred Memory of our late Dread Sovereign, King
Charles II., 11th April, 1685.**
*< Pietas univertitatit Oxonktuit in obitum augustissimi et detideratusimi
Regit Caroli Secundu"
56 THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
besides that of Dryden. Otway, indeed^ has left a poem on the
subject, called *' Windsor Castle ;" and he began a pastoral^ which,
fortunately for his reputation^ he left unfinished. * From the laureat
a deeper tone of lamentation was due. But whether the sense of dis-
charging a task^ a sense so chilling always to poetical imagination,
had fettered Dry den's powers^ or from whatever other reason^ his
funeral pindaric has not been esteemed one of his happiest Ijrric
effusions. It is devoid of any appearance of deep feeling on the part
of the author himself. This is the more remarkable^ as themanners
of Charles were eminently calculated to attract affection^ and Dry-
den had been admitted to a greater share of royal intercourse than
is usually necessary to excite the personal attachment of a sub-
ject to a condescending monarch. But whether Dryden^ as he is
sometimes believed to have owned^ was unapt to feel or express
the more tender passions, or whether he saw the character of
Charles so closely^ as to discern the selfishness of his hollow cour-
tesy^ it is certain, that the poet seems wonderfully little interested
Duke, and others, also invoked Melpomene on this mournful occasion : but^
perhaps, the most remarkable of all these lamentations is, " The Quaker's Elegy
on the DeaUi of Charles, late King of England, written by W. P. a nncere lover
of Charles and James, (31st March, 1685.)" *^ Tears wiped off, a Second Part,
on the Coronation, i22d April.)" This curious dirge b^ns thus :
What wondrous change in waking do I find.
For a strange something does my sense unbind ;
Truth has pessess'd my darken'd soul all o'ei
With an unusual light, not known before ;
And doth inform me, that some star is gone,
From whose kind influence we had life alone.
No sooner had this stranger seized my soul.
But Rachel knock*d, to raise me from my bed,
And, with a voice of sorrow did condole
The loss of Charles, whom she declared was dead ;
Charles dost thou mean we King of England call,
That lived within the mansion of Whitehall ?
I Yes^-'tis too true. Sec
♦ '* Windsor Castle, in a monument to our late sovereign. King Charles
II.," contains some striking passages. But, for the tenuity of the pastoral, even
the taste of the age can hardly excuse the author of " Venice Preserved." Fop
example :
Ye tender lambs, stray not so fast away ;
To weep and mourn, let us together stay ;
0*er all the universe let it be spread.
That now the shepherd of the flock is dead ;
The Toyal Pan, that shepherd of the sheep.
He, wlio to leave his flock did dying weep.
Is gone ! Ah ! gone, ne'er to return from death's eternal sleep.
THRENODIA AGUSTALIS. 57
in the sorrowful theme. Even when he mentions his literary in«
tercourse with the deceased monarchy he does not suppress a mur-
mur^ that he was niggard in rewarding themuses whom he loved;
that
—little was their hire, and light their gain*
This absence of personal feeling on the part of the author^
spreads a coldness over the whole elegy; whidi we regret the less
as the pensioned monarch ill deserved a deeper lamentation. It is
chiefly owing to his want of sjrmpathy^ connected with an over in*
dulgence in conceit^ a fault which immediately flows from the^
other^ being an effort of ingenuity to supply the want of pa»eiatf,
that ihe *' Threnodia Augustalis" has been neglected. We have
to lament some overstrained metaphors and similes. The^un
went back ten degrees in the dial of Ahaz ; a miraculous sign tJ^t
Hezekiah was to live ; and this is compared to ihe Jive days di^-
rixng which the disease of Charles gained ground^ until it was obvi«
ous that he was to die. The prayers of the people carrying heaven
by s^rm^ and almost forcing heaven to revoke its decrees^ is ex«
travagant^ not to say profane. Yet^ with all its faults of coldness
and conceit^ this poem seems rather to have been under-rated*
It appears to great advantage when compared with others on the
same subject. Otway» who affects a warmer display of passion, a
particular in which Dryden is said to have acknowledged his su^
periority^has &llen into the opposite fault, of describing the death*
bed rather of a tender husband or lover, attended by his wife or
mistress, than that of a king waited on by his successor.* Dry*
den's picture of the duke's grief is much more appropriate and
striking:
Horror in all his pomp was there,
Mute and magnificent, without a tear,
•f* We shall here insert the last meeting of the royal brothers, as described
in ^* Windsor Castle," which the reader may contrast with the same theme in the
•« Threnodia."
Here, painter, if thou can*st, thy art improve,
And show the wonders of fraternal love ;
How mourning James by fading Charles did stand.
The dying grasping the surviving hand ;
How round eadi others necks their arms they cast,
Moan'd, with endearing murmurings, and embraced ;
And of their parting pangs such marks did give,
'Twere hard to guess which yet could longest live.
Both their sad tongues quite lost the power to speak.
And their kind hearts seem*d both prepared to break,
58 THRENODIA AUCUSTALIS,
Tlie joy of the people upon the fallacious prospect of the Song's
recovery is also a striking picture :
Men met each other with erected look ;
The steps were higher that they took ;
Friends to congratulate their friends made haste,
And long inveterate foes saluted as they past
There are many other fine passages in the " Threnodia;" though
the general effect is less impressive than might have been expect-
ed. The description in the thirteenth stanza, for example, of the
effects on poetry and literature produced by the Restoration, and
that of the return of liberty.
Without whose charms even peace would be
But a dull quiet slavery,
are both striking. — The character of Charles ; his wit^ parts^ and
powers of conversation; his gentle manners, and firmness of dispo*
sition^ which^ like a well- wrought blade^ kept^ even in yielding^
die native toughness of the steely — are all themes of panegyric,
which, though perhaps exaggerated, are well-chosen, and exquisite-
ly brought out. It is indeed a peculiar attribute of Dryden's praise,
diat it is always appropriate; while the gross adulation of his con-
temporaries gave mdiscriminately the same broad features to all
their subjects^ and thereby very often converted their intended
panegyric into satire, not the less bitter because undesi^ed.
Dryden^ for instance, in this whole poem, has never once men-
tioned the queen ; sensible that the gaiety of Charles' life and his
firequent amours rendered her conjugal grief, which some of the
elegiasts chose to describe in terms approaching to blasphemy,
an apocryphal, as well as a delicate theme.* He knew that
praise, to do honour to the giver and receiver, must either have
a real foundation in desert, or at least what, by the skil^ ma«
nagement of the poet^ may be easily represented as such.
* Perhaps the most extraordinary instance of flattery, wrought up to im-
piety, occurs in Mrs Behn's Address to the Queen on the Death of her Hus-
band :— -
Methinks I see you like die queen of heaven.
To whom all patience and all grace was given
When the great Lord of life hims^ was laid
Upon her lap, all wounded, pale, and dead ;
Transpierced with anguish, even to death transfonn*d.
So she bewail*d her God, so sighM, so mourn*d,
So his blest image in her heart remain'd,
So his blest memory o*«r her soul still reign 'd ;
She lived the sacred victim to deplore.
And never km^w, or wish'd a pleasure more;
THRENODIA AUGITSTALIS. 59
Having discussed the melancholy part of his subject^ the poet^
according to the approved custom in such cases^ nnds cause for
rejoicing in the succession of James, as he had mourned over the
death of his predecessor. From his firmness of character and
supposed military talents^ the poet prophesies a warlike and vic-
torious reign : a sad instance how seldom the poetic and prophetic
character^ so often claimed^ are united in the same individual ! for
James, as is well known, far from conquering foreign kingdoms^
did not draw the sword even to defend his own. But very difie-
rent events were expected^ and augured^ by the shoal of versifiers^
who now rushed forward to gratulate his accession.*
The pindaric measure^ in which the '^Threnodia Augustalis" is
written^ contains nothing pleasing to modem ears. The rhymes
are occasionally so far disjoined^ that^ like a fashionable married
couple, they have nothing of union but the name. The inequalities
of the verse are also violent^ and remind us of ascending a broken
and unequal stair-case. But the age had been accustomed to
this rythm, which^ however improperly, was considered as a ge-
nuine imitation of the style of Pmdar. It must also be owned tnat
whatever, for a little way, Dryden uses a more regular measure,
he displays all his usual command of harmony. The thirteenth
istanza, for example, isashappilvdistinffuishedby melodyof rhyme,
as we have already observed it is emment in beauty of poetry.
The Latin titlje of this poem, like that of the lleligto Laid,
savours somewhat of affectation ; and has been taxed by Jobnaon
as not strictly classical, a more unpardonable faultt
« These axe even more numerous than the Elegiasts on Charles's death. In
the LuttreU Collection there are the following rare pieces :—
** PanegyrU Jacobi serenistimi^ ^c, regi ipso die inaugurtUionit***
*« A Poem on Do. by R. Philips."
*< On Do. by a Young Gentleman."
** A Panegjrrick on Do. by the Author of the Plea for Succession."
•• A New Song on Do."
*< A Poem on Do. by John Philips."
** A Poem upon the Coronation, by J. Baber, Esq."
** A Pindarique to dieir Sacred Majesties on their Coronation."
*< A Poem on Do. by R. Mansell, Gent;"
** A Panegyrick on Do. by Peter Ker :" with whose rapturous invitation to
the ships to strand themselves for joy, we shall conclude the list :
Let subjects sing, bells ring, and cannons roar ;
And every ship come dancing to the shore.
f Dryden, perhaps, recollected the poem of Fitzpayne Fisher on Cromwell^s
death, entitled, Threnodia TriumphaUs in obitum serenisiinU Nottri PHncipit
Olimnt Anglics Scotice Hiberniai cum dominoHmibut ubicunquejacentibus Nu'
60 THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
Mv learned friend, Dr Adam, has favoured me with the follow*
ing defence of Dry den's phrase : ''With respect to the tide which
that great poet gives to his elegy on the death of Charles^ making
allowance for ^e taste of the times and the licence of poets in
framing names, I see no just foundation for Johnson's criticism od
the epiSiet Augustalis. Threnodia is a word purely Greeks used
by no Latin author ; and AugustaUs denotes, ' in nonour of Au-
gustus;' thus, ludi AuguHales, games instituted in honour of Att<
ffustus, Tac, An. 1,15 and54 ; so sacerdoies vel sodales Atsgustala,
u>. and 2, 83. Hist. 2, 95. Now, as Augustus was a name given
to the succeeding emperors, I see no reason, why Augusialis may
not be used to si^iify, ' in honour of any king.' Besides the very
wcnrd Augustus denotes, * venerable, august, royal :' and theie-
fore Tkrenodia Augustatts may properly be put for^ * An Elegy
in honour of an august Prince.'*'
The full title declared the poem to be written '^ by John Dry-
den, servant to his late majesty, and to tiie present king ;" a style
which our author did not genearaUy assume, but which the occa^
sion rendered peculiarly proper. The poem appears to have been
popular, as it went through two editions in tne courfte of 16S5.
fcri pratedarit, (Qui obiiU Scptemh, SHo.) UU HufetuUt pattkn vietoritfy d
incredUfUesdomifircuquetuccestuSf Heroico carminCf ntcdnctimpergiriUffwUMr*
Per Fitzpayncswn PUeatorem* Londiniy 1658.
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
1.
Thus long my grief has kept me dumb :
Sure there's a lethargy in mighty woe.
Tears stand eongeal'd and cannot flow ;
And the sad soul retires into her inmost room :
Tears, for a stroke foreseen, afford relief;
But, unprovided for a sudden blow^
Like Mobe, we marble grow,
And petrify with griefl
Our British heaven was all serene.
No threatening cloud was nigh.
Not the least wrinkle to deform the sky ;
We lived as unconcem'd and happily
As the first age in Nature's golden scene ;
Supine amidst our flowing store.
We slept securely, and we dreamt of more ;
When suddenly the thunder-clap was heard.
It took us, unprepar'd, and out of guard.
Already lost before we fear'd.
The amazing news of Charles at once were spread.
62 THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
At once the general voice declared,
" Our gracious prince was dead."
No sickness known before, no slow disease.
To soften grief by just degrees ;
But, like an hurricane on Indian seas.
The tempest rose ;
An unexpected burst of woes,*
With scarce a breathing space betwixt.
This now becalmed, and perishing the next.
As if great Atlas from his height
Should sink beneath his heavenly weight.
And, with a mighty flaw, the flaming wall.
As once it shall.
Should gape immense, and, rushing down, over-
whelm this nether ball ;
So swift and so surprising was our fear :
Our Atlas fell indeed ; but Hercules was near, f
II-
His pious brother, sure the best
Who ever bore that name.
Was newly risen from his rest.
And, with a fervent flame.
His usual morning vows had just addrest.
For his dear sovereign's health ;
And hoped to have them heard.
In long increase of years.
In honour, fame, and. wealth :
Guiltless of greatness, thus he always pray'd.
Nor knew nor wish'd those vows he made.
On his own head shpuld be repaid.
* Note I.
t Alluding to the fable of Hercules supporting the heavenly
sphere when Atlas was fatigued.
THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS, 6S
Soon as the ill-omen'd rumour reached his ear,
(111 news is wing'd with fate, and flies apace,)
Who can describe the amazement of his face !
Horror in all his pomp was there.
Mute and magnificent, without a tear ;
And then the hero first was seen to fear.
Half unarray'd he ran to his relief.
So hasty and so artless was his grief :
Approaching greatness met him with her charms
Of power and future state ;
But look'd so ghastly in a brother's fate.
He shook her fi*om his arms.
Arrived within the mournful room, he saw
A wild distraction, void of awe.
And arbitrary grief unbounded by a law.
God's image, God's anointed, lay
Without motion, pulse, or breath,
A senseless lump of sacred clay.
An image now of death.
Amidst his sad attendants' groans and cries.
The lines of that adored forgiving face.
Distorted from their native grace ;
An iron slumber sat on his majestic eyes.
The pious Duke — Forbear, audacious muse !
No terms thy feeble art can use
Are able to adorn so vast a woe.
The grief of all the rest like subject-grief did show.
His, like a sovereign's, did transcend ;
No wife, no brother, such a grief could know.
Nor any name but friend.
III.
O wondrous changes of a fatal scene,
Still varying to the last !
Heaven, though its hard decree was past,
Seem'd pointing to a gracious turn again :
And death's uplifted arm arrested in its haste.
64 THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
Heaven half repented of the doom.
And almost grieved it had foreseen^
What by foresight it will'd eternally to come.
Mercy above did hourly plead
For her resemblance here below,
And mild forgiveness intercede
To stop the coming blow.
New miracles approach'd the etherial throne.
Such as his wond'rous life had oft and lately known,
And urged that still they might be shown.
On earth his pious brother pray'd aiid vow'd.
Renouncing greatness at so dear a rate.
Himself defending what he could,
From all the glories of his future fate.
With him the innumerable crowd
Of armed prayers
Knock'd at the gates of heaven, and knocked aloud ;
The first well-meaning rude petitioners.*
All for his life assail'd the throne.
All would have bribed the skies by offering up their
own.
So great a throng, not heaven itself could bar ;
'Twas almost borne by force, as in the Giants' War.
The prayers,. at least, for his reprieve were heard ;
His death, like Hezekiah's, was deferr'd.
Against the sun the shadow went ;
Five days, those five degrees were lent.
To form our patience, and prepare the event.f
The second causes took the swift command.
The medicinal head, the ready hand.
All eager to perform their part ;:j:
All but eternal doom was conquer'd by their art.
* A very ill-timed sarcasm on those, who petitioned Charles
to call his parliament. See p. 311.
t 2 Kings, chap. xx.
t Note II.
3^BBuBNOX)lA AVaVHTAhlB. 65
Once more the fleeting soul came back .
To inspire the mortal frame ;
'And in the body took a doubtful stand.
Doubtful and hovering, like expiring flame.
That mounts and falls by turns, and trembles o'er
the brand,
IV.
The joyful short-lived news soon spread around, ♦
Took the same train, the same impetuous bound :
The drooping town in smiles again was drest.
Gladness in every face exprest,
Their eyes before their tongues confest.
Men met each other with erected look.
The steps were higher that they took ;
Friends to congratulate their friends made haste.
And long inveterate foes saluted as they past.
Above the rest heroic James appeared.
Exalted more, because he more had fear'd.
His manly heart, whose noble pride . , ;
Was still above
Dissembled hate, or varnish'd -Jove,
Its more than common transport could not hide ;
But like an eagre f rode in triumph o'er the tide.
♦ Note III.
t An eagre is a tide swelling above another tide, which I have
myself observed in the river Trent.— Dryden. This species of
combat between the current and the tide is well kliown on the
Severn ; and, so far back as the days of William of Malmesbury,
was called the Higre, Unhappy is the vessel, says that ancient
historian, on whom its force falls laterally. De Gestis Pantifi"
cum. Lib. IV.— Drayton describes the same river.
-With whose tumultuous w^ves
Shut up in narrower bounds, thie Higre wildly raves,
And frights the straggling flocks the neighbouring shores to fly.
A fur as from th« main it comes with hideous cry ;
VOL. X. E
66 THRfilQODiA AtJOUSTia.IS.
Thus, in alternate course,
The tyrant passions, hope and fear,
Did in extremes appear.
And flash'd upon the soul with eqixal force.
Thus, at half ebb, a rolling sea
Returns, and wins upon the shore ;
The watcfry herd, amighted at the roar.
Rest on their fins awhile, and stay.
Then backward take their wcmdering way :
The prophet wonders more than they.
At prodigies but rarely seen before.
And cries, — a king must fall, or kingdoms diange
thdr 5way,
Such were our counter-tides at land, and so
Presaging of the fetal blow.
In their prodigious ebb and flow.
The royal soul, that, like the labouring moon.
By charms of art was hurried down.
Forced with regret to leave her native sph^e.
Came but a while on liking* here ;
Soon weariied of the painful strife.
And made but faint essays of life :
J An evening light
Soon shut in night ;
A strong distemper, and a weak relief.
Short intervals of joy, and long returns of grief.
And on tho a^gry front the coiled foam doth bring.
The billows 'gainst the bank when fiercely it doth fling.
Hurls up the scaly ooze, and makes the scaly brood
Leap madding to the land alighted from the flood ;
overturns the toiling barch whose steersman does not launch.
And thrust the furrowing beak into her ravening paunch.
Poly^Olbion, Song VII.
* To engage upon liking, {an ima^e rather too familiar for the
occasion,) is to take a temporary trial of a service, or business,
ivith licence to quit it at pleasure.
TBEENODIA AU6USTALIS. 67
V.
The sons of art all med'cines tried.
And every noble remedy applied ;
With emulation each essay'd
His utmost skill ; nay, more, they pray'd ;
Neverwaslosinggamewithbetterconductplay'd ;
Death never won a stake with greater toil.
Nor e'er was fate so near a foil.
But, like a fortress on a rock.
The impregnable disease their vain attempts did
mock;
They mined it near, they batter'd from afer
With all the camion of the medicinal war ;
No gentle means could be essay'd,
'Twas beyond parley when the siege was kid.
The extremest ways they first ordain.
Prescribing such intolerable pain.
As none but Cassar could sustain,
Undaunted Caesar underwent
The malice of their art, nor bent
Beneath whate'er their pious rigoiu: could invent.
In five such days he suffer'd more
Than any sufier'd in his reign before ;
More, infinitely more, than he
Against the worst of rebels could decree^
A traitor, or twice pardon'd enemy.
Now art was tired without success.
No racks could make the stubborn malady confess.
The Vain insurancers of life.
And he who most performed, and promised less.
Even Short* himself, forsook the unequal strife.
Death and despair was in their looks.
No longer they consult their memories or books ;
Like helpless friends, who view from shore
* Note IV.
68 THHENQDIA AUGUSTALIS.
The labouring ship, and hear the tempest roar ;
So stoocV they with their arms across,
Not to assist, but to deplore
The inevitable loss.
VI.
Death was denounced ; that frightful sound
Which even the best can hardly bear.
He took the summons void of fear.
And unconcern'dly cast his eyes around.
As if to find and dare the grisly challenger.
What death could do he lately tried.
When in four days he more than died. *
The same assurance all his words did grace ;
The same majestic mildness held its place ;
Nor lost the nionarch in his dying face.
Intrepid, pious, merciful, and brave.
He look'd as when he conquer'd and forgave.
VII.
As if some angel had been sent
To lengthen out his government.
And to foretel as many years again.
As he had number'd in his happy reign ;
So cheerfully he took the doom
Of his departing breath.
Nor shrunk nor stept aside for death ;
But, with unalter'd pace, kept on.
Providing for events to come.
When he resign'd the throne.
Still he maintain'd his kingly state, -
And grew familiar with his fate.
Kind, good, and gracious, to the last.
On all he loved before his dying beams he cast.
Oh, truly good, and truly great.
For glorious as he rose, benignly so he set !
TXRENODIA AUGUSTAJLJES. 6§
*
All that on earth he held most dear.
He recommended to his care.
To whom both heaven
The right had given,
And his own love bequeath'd supreme command :♦
He took and prest that ever-loyal hand, i
Which could, in peace, secure his reign ;
Which could, in wars, his powe» maintain ;
That hand on which no plighted vows were ever
vain.
Well, for so great a trust, he chose
A prince, who never disobeyd ;
Not when the most severe commands were laid ;
Nor want, nor exile, with his duty welgh'd zf
A prince on whom, if heaven its eyes could close.
The welfare of the world it safely might repose.
vm.
That king, who lived to Grod's own heart.
Yet less serenely died than he ;
Charles left behind no harsh decree.
For schoolmen, with laborious art.
To sa^ne from cruelty : X
Those, for whom love could no excuses frame.
He graciously forgot to name.
• Note V.
t Alluding to the Duke's banishment to Flanders. See note
on *' Absalom and Achitophel/' Vol. IX. p. SH^
:{: The testament of King David^ by which he bequeathed to
his son the charge of executing vengeance on those enemies
whom he had spared during his life^ has been much canvassed
bv divines. I indulge myself in a tribute to a most venerable
character, when I state, that the most ingenious discourses I
ever heard from the pulpit, were upon this and other parts of
David's conduct, in a series of lectures by the late Reverend
Dr John Erskine, one of the ministers of the Old Greyfriars
church in Edinburgh.
to I^KKEVODIA AUGUSTALIS.
Thus far my muse, though rudely, has design'd
Some faint resemblance ot his godlike mind ;
But neither pen nor pencil can express
The parting brother's tenderness ;
Though that's a term too mean and low ;
The blest above a kinder word may know :
But what they did, and what they said.
The monarch who triumphant went.
The militant who stidd,
Like painters, when their heightening arts are
spent,
I cast into a shade.
That all-forgiving king,
The type of Him above,
That inexhausted spring
Of clemency and love.
Himself to his next self accused.
And asked that pardon which he ne'er refused ;
For faults not his, for guilt and crimes
Of godless men, and of rebellious times ;
For an hard exile, kindly meant.
When his ungrateful country sent
Their best CamiUus into banishment.
And forced thdr sovereign's act, they could not his
consent.
Oh how much rather, had that injured chief
Kepeated all his siifferings past.
Than hear a p4rdon begg'd at last.
Which, given, could give the dying no relief !
He bent, he sunk beneath his grief;
His dauntless heart would fain have held
From weeping, but his eyes rebell'd.
Perhaps the godlike hero, in his breast,
, Disdain'd, or was ashamed to show.
So weak, so womanish a woe.
Which yet the brother and the friend so plenteous-
ly confest.
11
THtEKODIA AfTQUSTAX^IS. 71
IX.
• • *
Amidst that silent shower^ the royal xmnd
An easy passage founds
And left its sacr^ earth behind;
Nor murmuring groan expressed, nor labouring
sound.
Nor any least tumultuous breath ;
Calm was his Me, and quiet was his death.
Soft as those gentle whispers were.
In which the Almighty did appear ;
By the still voice the prophet knew him there.
That peace which made thy prosperous reign to
shine.
That peace thou leavest to thy imperial line,
That peace. Oh happy shade, be ever thine !
For all those joys thy restoration brought.
For all tiie miracles it wrought.
For ^ the healing balm thy mercy pour'd
Into the nation's bleeding wound,* *
And care, that after kept it sound ;
For numerous blessings yearly sbower'd.
And property with plenty crowned ;
For freedom, stUl maintain'd alive.
Freedom, which in no other land will thrive.
Freedom, an English subject's sole prerogative.
Without whose charms, even peace would be
But a dull quiet slavery ; —
For these, and more, accept our pious praise ;
'Tis all the subsidy
The present age can raise,
The rest is charged on late posterity.
♦ King Charles' first parliament^ from passing the Act of In-
demnity^ and taking ouer measures to drown all angry recollec-
tion pf the Civil Wars^ was cidled the Healing Parliament.
72 THUEirODIA AtJOUSTALIS/
Posterity is charged the more.
Because the late abounding store
To them, and to their heirs, is sttU entaiM by thee.
Succession of a long descent,
Which chastely in the channels ran.
And from our demi-gods begap,
Equal almost to time in its extent,
Through hazards numberless and great.
Thou bast derived this mighty blessing down.
And fix'd the fairest gem that decks the imperial
crown. : ^ ■
Not faction, when it shook thy regal seat.
Not senates, insolently loud, '
Those echoes of a thoughtless crowd.
Not foreign or domestic treachery, " ;
Could warp thy soul to their unjust decree. ^
So much thy foes thy manly mind mistook,
Who judged it by the mildness of thy look;
Like a n^dft tempered sword, it' bent at wffl.
But kept the native toughness of the sted;
XL
Be true, O Clio, to thy hero's name !
But draw him strictly so.
That all who view the piece may know.
He needs no trappings of fictitious fame.
The load's too weighty ; thou may'st chuse
Some parts of praise, and some refuse ;
Write, that his annals may be thought more lavish
than the muse.
In scanty truth thou hast confined
The virtues of a royal mind.
Forgiving, bounteous, humble, just, and kind :
His conversation, wit, and parts.
His knowledge in the noblest useful arts.
Were such, dead authors could not give ;
But habitudes of those who live.
Who, lighting him, did greater lights receive :
He drain'd from all, and all they knew ;
His apprehension quick, his judgment true.
That the most learn'd, -with shame, confess.
His knowledge more, his reading only less.
XIL
Amidst the peaceful triumphs of his reign,
What wonder, if the kindly beams he shed
Revived the drooping arts ^ain.
If science raised her head.
And soft humanity, that from rebellion fled.
Our isle, indeed, too fruitful was before ;
But all uncultivated lay
Out of the solar walk, and heaven's high way;*
With rank Greneva weeds run o*er,
And cockle, at the best, amidst the corn it bore :
The royal husbandman appeared.
And plough'd, and sow'd, and till'd ;
The thorns he rooted out, the rubbish clear'd.
And blest the obedient field.
When straight a double harvest rose.
Such as the swarthy Indian mows.
Or happier climates near the Line,
Or paradise manured, and drest by hands divine.
XIII.
As when the new-born phoenix takes his way.
His rich paternal regions to survey.
Of airy choristers a numerous train
Attend his wonderous progress o'er the plain ;
So, rising from his father's urn.
So glorious did our Charles return ;
♦ A similar line occurs in the Annus MirabUls, St. 160.
Beyond the year, and out of heaven's high- way.
The expression is originally Virgil's :
Extra anni, tolisqug vias.
74 TSUrNODXA. AU6USTALIS«
The officious musea came along,
A gay harmonious quire, like angels ever young ;
The muse, that mourns hhn now,ms happy tnumpl
sung*
Even they could thrive in his auspicious reign ;
And such a plenteous crop they bore
Of purest and well-winnow'd grain.
As Britain never knew befc»re.
Though little was their hire, and light their gain,
Yet somewhat to their share he threw ;
Fed from his hand, they sung and flew.
Like birds of paradise, that lived on morning dew.
O, never let their lays his name forget !
The pension of a prince's praise is great.
Live then, thou great encourager of arts.
Live ever in our thankful hearts ;
Live blest above, almost invoked below ;
Live and receive this pious vow.
Our patron once, our guardian angel now !
Thou Fabius of a sinking state.
Who didst by wise delays divert our fate.
When faction like a tempest rose.
In death's most hideous form.
Then art to rage thou didst oppose.
To weather out the storm ;
Not quitting thy supreme command.
Thou heldst the rudder with a steady hand.
Till safely on the shore the bark did land ;
The bark, that all our blessings brought.
Charged with thyself and James, a doubly-royal
fraught.
XIV.
Oh frail estate of human things.
And slippery hopes below !
Now to our cost your emptiness we know ;
* See the Astraea Redux.
TITBEKODXA AUCUSTALIS. TS
{"or *tis a lesson dearly bought^
Assurance here is never to be sought
The best, aiid best beloved of kings,
And best deserving to be so^
When scarce he had escaped the fatal blow
Of faction and conspiracy.
Death did his promised hopes destroy ;
He toird, he gained, but lived not to enjoy.
What mists of Providence are these
Through which we cannot see !
So saints, bv supernatural power set free.
Are left at last in martyrdom to die ;
Such is the end of oft repeated miracles. —
Forgive me, heaven, that impious thought !
*Twas grief for Charles, to madness wrought.
That questioned thy supreme decree !
Thou didst his gracious reign prolong.
Even in thy saints' and angels' wrong.
His fellow-dtizens of immortality.
For twelve long years of exile bom.
Twice twelve we numbered since his blest return :
So strictly wer^t thou just to pay.
Even to the driblet of a day.*
Yet still we murmur, and complain
The quails and manna should no longer rain :
Those miracles 'twas needless to renew ;
The chosen flock has now the promised land in view.
XV.
A warlike prince ascends the regal state,
A prince long exercised by fate :
Long may he keep, though he obtains it late !
* Reckcming from the death of his father, Charles had reign-
ed thirty-six years and eight days ; and, counting from his re-
storation, twenty-four years, eignt months, and nine days.
76 THEENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
Heroes in heaven's peculiat* mould are cast ;
They, and their poets, are not formed in haste ;
Man was the first in God's design, and man was
made the last.
False heroes, made by flattery so.
Heaven can strike out, like sparkles, at a blow ;
But ere a prince is to perfection brought^
He costs Omnipotence a second thoughts
With toil and sweat.
With hardening cold, and forming heat»!
The Cyclops did their strokes repeat.
Before the impenetrable shield was wrought4
It looks as if the Maker would not own
The noble work for his,
Before 'twas tried and found a master^^iece^
XVI.
View then a, monarch ripen'd for a throne.
Alddes tlms his race began.
O'er infancy he swiftly ran ;
The future God at first was more than man :
Dangers and toils, and Juno's hate.
Even o'er his cradle lay in wait.
And there he grappled first with fate ;
In his young hands the hissing snakes he prest.
So early was the Deity confest ;
Thus, by degrees, he rose to Jove's imperial seat ;
Thus difficulties prove a soul legitimately great.
Like his, our hero's infancy was tried ;
Betimes the furies did their snakes provide.
And to his infant arms oppose
His father's rebels, and his- brother's foes ;
The more opprest, the higher still he rose.
Those were the preludes of his fate.
That form'd his manhood, to subdue
The hydra of the many-headed hissing crew.
THBENODIA AUGUSTALIS. 77
XVII.
As after Numa's peaceful reign.
The martial Aneus* did the sceptre wield,
Furbish'd the rusty sword again.
Resumed the long-forgotten shield,
And led the Latins to the dusty field ;
So James the drowsy genius^ wakes
Of Britain long entranced in charms,
Restiff and slumbering on its arms ;
'Tis roused, and, with a new-strung nerve, the spear
already shakes.
No neighing of the warrior steeds,
No drum, or louder trumpet, needs
To inspire the coward, warm the cold ;
His voice, his sole appearance, makes them bold.
Gaul and Batavia dread the impending blow ;
Too well the vigour of that arm they know ;
They lick the dust, and crouch beneath their fatal
foe.
Long may they fear this awful prince.
And not provoke his lingering sword ;
Peace is their only sure defence.
Their best security his word.
In all the changes of his doubtful state.
His truth, like heaverfs, was kept inviolate ;
For hini to promise is to make it fate.
His valour can triumph o'er land and main ;
With broken oaths his fame he will not stain ;
With conquest basely bought, and with inglorious
gain.
♦ Ancus Martius, who succeeded the peaceM Numa Pompi<
lius as King of Rome.
993 'THKEl^ODIA AU6USTALIB.
XVIII.
For once, O heaven, unfold thy adamantine book;
And let his wondering senate see.
If not thy firm immutable decree,
At least the second page of strong contingaicy.
Such as consists with wills, originally free.
Let them with glad amazement look
On what their happiness may be ;
Let them not still be obstinately blind.
Still to divert the good thou hast design'd^
Or, with maUgnant penury.
To starve the royal virtues of his mind«
Faith is a Christian's and a subject's test ;
Oh give them to believe, and they are surely blest
They do ; and with a distant view I see
The amended Vows of English loyalty ;
And all beyond that object, there appears
The lon^ retinue of a prosperous reign,
A senes of successful years.
In orderly array, a martial, manly train.
Behold e'en the remoter shores,
A conquering navy proudly spread ;
The British cannon formidably roars.
While, starting from his oozy bed.
The asserted Ocean rears his reverend head.
To view and recognize his ancient Lord again ;
And, with a wUling hand, restores
The fasces of the main.
• Note VIII.
NOTES
OK
THEENODIA AUGTJSTALISL
NoteL
An uneccpeoied burst qfwoes.'-^V. 6^
Charles IL enjoyed excelleiitlieBlth^ and was partknilarly care-
ful to preserve it by constant exercise. His danger, therefore, fell
like a thunderbolt on his people, whose hearts were gained by his
easy manners and good humour, and who considered, diat the
worst apprehensions they had ever entertained during his rcdgn,
arose from the rel%ion and disposition of his successor. The
mingled passions of affection ana fear produced a wonderful sen*
sation on the nation. The people were so passionately concerned,
that North says, and appeals to all who recollected the time for
the truth of his averment, that it was rare to see a person walk*
ing the street with dry eyes. Examen. p. 647.
Note II.
The second causes took the swift oommandf
The medicinal head, the ready hand,
AU eager to perform their part.^-^V. 64.
If there is safety in the multitude of counsellors, Charles did
not find it in the multitude of physicians. Nine were in attend-
ance, all men of eminence ; the presence of the least of whom,
Le Sage would have said, was fully adequate to account for the
subsequent catastrophe. They were Sir Thomas Millingtmi, Sir
Thomas Witherby, Sir Charles Scarborough, Sir Edmund King,
Doctors Berwick, Charlton, Lower, Short, and Le Fevre. They
signed a declaration, that the King had died of an apoplexy.
80 NOTES ON THRKNODIA AU6U8TALIS.
Note III.
Thejofffal short'Uved news soon spread around.^-^P. 65.
An article was published in the Gazette, on the third day of
the King's illness, importingy '^ That his physicians now concei-
ved him to be in a state of safety, and that in a few days he would
be freed from his indisposition." * North tells us, however, on
the authority of his brother, the Lord Keeper* that the only hope
which the physicians afforded to the council, was an assurance,
(joyfully communicated,) that the King was ill of a violent fever.
The council seeing little consolation in these tidings, one of the
medical gentlemen explained, by sayin^,^ that they now knew
what they had to do, which was to administer the cortex. This
was done while life lasted ^f although some of the physicians
seem to have deemed the prescription improper ; in which case,
Charles, after escaping Uie poniards and pistols of the Jesuits^
may be said to have fallen a victim to their bark.
Note IV.
And he who most perform* d, and promised less.
Even Short himself,jorsook the unequal strife^^^lP, 67.
Dr Thomas Short, an eminent physician, who came into the
court practice when Dr Richard Lower, who formerly epjoyed
it, embraced the political principles of the Whig party. Shorty
a Roman Catholic, and himself a Tory, was particularly accepta-
ble to the Tories. To this circumstance he probably owes the
compliment paid him by our author, and another from Lord
Mulgrave to the same purpose. Otway reckons, among his se«
lected friends.
Short, beyond what numbers can commend. $
Duke has also inscribed to him his translation of the eleventh
Idy Ilium of Theocritus ; beginning,
O Short ! no herb nor salve was ever found.
To ease a lover*s heat, or heal his wound.
Dr Short, as one of the king's physicians, attended the death-
bed of Charles, and subscribed the attestation, tJiat he died of an
apoplexy. Yet there has been ascribed to him an expression of
dubious import, which caused much disquisition at the time;
• Ralph, Vol. I. p. 834.
f Liie of Lord Keeper Guilfoid, p. 253. X Epistle to Mr Duke.
NOTES ON THllENODIA AUGUSTALIS. 81
namely, that the ^' the king had not fair play for his life." Burnet
says plainly, that *' Short suspected poison^ and talked more free-
ly of it than any Protestant durst venture to do at the time." He
adds^ that '' Short himself was taken suddenly ill^ upon taking a
large draught of wormwood wine, in the house of a Popish patient
near the Tower ; and while on his death-bed, he told Lower, and
Millington, and other physicians, that he believed he himself was
poisoned, for having spoken too freely of the king's death."* Mul-
grave states the same report in these words, which, coming from a
professed Tory, are entitled to the greater credit : " I am obliged
to observe, that the most knowing and most deserving of all his
physicians did not only believe him poisoned, but thought him-
self so too, not long after, for having declared his opinion a little
too boldly."f North, in confutation of this report, has inter-
preted Short's expression, as meaning nothing more than that the
ting's malady was mistaken by his physicians, who, by their im-
proper prescriptions, deprived nature of fair play ; % and he ap-
peals to all the eminent physicians who attended Dr Short in his
last illuess, whether he did not fall a victim to his own bold me-
thod, in using the cortex. Upon the whole, whatever opinion this
individual physician may have adopted through mistake, or affecta-
tion of singularity, and whatever credit faction, or indeed popular
prejudice in general, may have given to such rumours at tne time,
there appears no solid reason to believe that Charles died of poison.
Both Burnet and Mulgrave say« that they never hejEird a hint
that his brother was accessary to such a crime ; and it is very un-
likely that an^ zealous Catholic should have either opportuni-
ty, or inclination, to hasten the reign of a prince of that religion,
by the unsolicited service of poisoning his brother. The other
physicians, several of whom. Lower, for example, were Whigs,
as well as Protestants, gave no countenance to this rumour,
which was circulated by a Catholic. And, as the symptoms of the
king's disorder are decidedly apoplectic, the report may be added
to those with which history abounds, and which are raised and
believed only because an extraordinary end is thought most fit
for the eminent and powerful.
Short, as we have incidentally noticed, survived his royal pa-
tient but a few months. He was succeeded in his practice by
Ratcliffe, the&mous Tory physician of Queen Anne's reign.
* Burnet's History of his own Times. End of Book III.
f Character of Charles II., Sheffield Duke of Buckingham's Work^, Vol. II.
p. 65.
X One Dr Stokeham is said to have alleged, that the king's fit was epileptic,
not apoplectic, and that bleeding was (r.i-cftat/ie^ro wrong.
vol.. X. r
82 NOTES QN THUENODIA AUGUSTALIS.
Note V.
All thai on earth he held most dear.
He recommended to his care.
To whom both heaven
The right had given.
And his own love bequeath'd supreme command. — P. 6S»
The historical accounts of the dying requests of Charles are
contradictory and obscure. It seems certain^ that he earnestly re-
commended his &vourite mistress, the Duchess of Portsmouth^
to the protection of his successor. He had always, he said, loved
her, and he now loved her at the last. The Bishop of Bath pre-
sented to him his natural son, the Duke of Richmond ; whom he
blessed, and recommended^ with his other children, to his success
sor's protection ; adding, ** Do not let poor Nelly * starve."
He seems to have said nouing of the Duke of Monmouth, once so
much beloved, and whom, shortly before, he entertained llioughts
of recalling from banishment, ana replacing infavour; perhaps he
thought any recommendation to James of a rival so hated would
be ineffectual. Burnet says he spoke not a word of the queen.
Echard, on the contrary, affirms, that, at the exhortation of the
Bishop of Bath, Charles sent for the queen, and asked and recei-
ved her pardon for the injuries he had done her bed.t In Foun-
tainhalVs Manuscript, the queen is said to have sent a message, re-
questing his pardon if she had ever offended him : '^ Alas, poor
lady I" replied the dying monarch, '* she never offended me ; I
have too often injured her." | This account seems more proba-
ble than that of Echard ; for so public a circumstance, as a per«
sonal visit from the queen to her husband's death-bed, could hard-
ly have been disputed by contemporaries.
Note VI.
The officious mtises came along,
A gay harmonious quire, like angels ever young ;
The muse, that mourns him now, his happy tnumph ^ffg.— P. 73.
In Diyden's Life, we had occasion to remark the effect of the
Restoration upon literature. It was. not certainly its least impor-
• Nell Gwyn. t Echard's History, p. 10i6.
t Dalrymple*s Memoirs, 8vo. vol. L p. 66.
NOTES ON THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS. 83
tant benefit, that it opened our poet's own way to distinction ;
which is thus celebrated by Baber;
•till blest years brought Caesar home again,
Dryden to purpose never drew his pen.
He, happy favourite of the tuneful nine !
Came with an early oflfering tff your shrine ;
Embalm'd in deathless verseAhe nionarch*s fame ;
Verse, which shall keep it fresh in youthful prime.
When Rustal*s sacred gift must yidd to time.
Note VII.
Faiik is a Christian's and a subject* s iest.'^F, 78.
James^ as well as his poet^ was not slack in intimating to his
subjects^ that he expected them to possess a proper portion of this
saving virtue. And^ that they might not want an opportunity of
exercising it^ he was pleased^ by his own royal proclamation^ to
continue the payment of the duties of the custom-house^ which
had been granted by parliament only during his brother's life.
THE
HIND AND THE PANTHER,
A POEM.
IN THREE PARTS.
'Antiquam exquirite mairem
•Et vera incessu patuit Dea, Virg.
THE
HIND AND THE PANTHER.
In the Life of Dryden, there is an attempt to trace the progress
and changes of those religious opinions^ by which he was unfor-
tunately conducted into the errors of Popery. With all the
zeal of a new convert^ he seems to have been impatient to invite
others to follow his example, by detailing, in poetry, the arguments
which had appeared to him unanswerable. " Tne Hind and the
Panther" is the offspring oT that rage for proselytism, which is a pe-
culiar attribute of his new mother church. The author is anxious,
ifi the preface, to represent this poem as a task which he had vo-
luntarily undertaken, without receiving even the subject from any
one. His assertion seems worthy of full credit ; for although it
was tlie most earnest desire of James II. to employ every possible
mode for the conversion of his subjects, there is room to believe,
that, if the poem had been 'written under his direction, the tone
adopted by Dryden towards the sectaries would have been much
more mild. It is a well-known point of history, that, in order to
procure as many friends as possible to the repeal of the Test act
and penal laws against the Catholics, James extended indul-
gence to the Puritans and sectarian non-confom^ists, the ancient
enemies of his person, his family, and monarchial establishments
in general. Dryden obviously was not in this court secret ; the
purpose of which was to unite those congregations, whom he has
described under the parable of bloody bears, boars, wolves, foxes,
&c.in a common interest with the Hind, against the exclusive pri-
vileges of the Panther and her subjects. His work was written
with the precisely opposite intention of recommending an union
between the Catholics and the church of England ; at least, of
persuading the latter to throw down the barriers, by which the
88 THE HIND AND THE PANTHSU.
former were kept out of state emplo3rinents. Such an union had at
one time been deemed practicable ; and^ in 1685^ pamphlets had
been published, seriously exhorting the church of England to a
league with the Catholics^ in order to root out the sectaries^ as
common enemies to both. The steady adherence of the church
of England to Protestant principles^ rendered all hopes of such an
union abortive; and, while Dry den was composing his poem upon
this deserted plan, James was taking different steps to accomplish
the main purpose both of the poet and monarch.
The power of the crown to dispense, at pleasure, with tbe esta-
blished laws of the kingdom, had been often asserted^ and some-
times exercised, by former English monarchs. A king was entit-
led, the favourers of prerogative argued, to pardon the breach of
a statute, when committed ; why not, therefore, tosuspend its ef-
fect by a dispensation a priori, or by a general suspension of the
law ? which was only doing in general, what he was confessedly
empowered to do in particular cases. But a doctrine so pernici-
ous to liberty was never allowed to take root in the constitution ;
and theVonfounding the prerogativeof extending mercy to indivi-
dual criminals, with that of annulling the law under which they
had been condenmed^ was a fallacy easily detected and refuted.
Charles IL twice attempted to assert his supposed privilege of
suspending the penal laws, by granting a general toleration ; and
he nad, in both cases, been obliged to retract, by the remonstrances
of Parliament.* But his successor, who conceived that his power
was situated oh a more firm basis^ and who was naturally obsti-
nate in his resolutions, was not swayed by this recollection. He
took every opportunity to exercise the power of dispensing with
the laws, requiring Catholics to take the test agreeable to act of
Parliament. He asserted his right to do so in his speech to the
Parliament, on 9th November, 1 6*85 ; he despised the remon-
strances of both houses, upon so flagrant ^nd open a violation of
the law ; and he endeavoured, by a packed bench, and a feigned
action at law, to extort a judicial ratification of ^his dispensing
power. At length, not contented with granting dispensations to
individuals, the king resolved at once to suspend the operation of
all penal statutes, which required conformity with the church of
England, as well as of the Test act.
On the 4th of April, l687, came forth the memorable Declara-
tion of Indulgence, in favour of all non-conformists of whatever
persuasion ; by which they were not only protected in the full
exercise of their various forms of religion, but might, without con-
• In the year 1663 and 1674. See Vol. IX. p. 448.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 89
formity, be admitted to all offices in the state. With what conse-
quences this act of absolute power was attended^ the history of
the Revolution makes us fully acquainted; for it is surelyimne-
cessary to add^ that the Indulgence occasioned the petition and
trial of the bishops^ the most important incident in that moment*
ous period.
About a fortnight after the publishing of this Declaration of In*
dulgence> our author's poem made its appearance ; being licensed
on the 11 th April, 1687^ and published a few days after, tf it was
undertaken without the knowledge of the court, it was calculated,
on its appearance, to secure the royal countenance and approba*
tion. Accordingly, as soon as it was published in England, a se«
cond edition was thrown off at a printmg office in Holyroodhouse,
Edinburgh, then maintainedfor the express piurpose of dissemina-
ting such treatises as were best calculated to serve the Catholic
cause.* If the Pr.otestant dissenters ever cast their eyes upon pro-
fane poetry, " The Hind and the Panther" must liave appeared
to them a perilous commentary on the king's declaration ; since
it shews clearly, that the Catholic interest alone was what the
Catholic king and poet had at heart, and that, however the for-
mer might now find himself obliged to court their favour, .to
strengthen his party against the established church, the deep re-
membrance of ancient feuds and injuries was still cherished, and
the desire of vengeance on the fanatics neither sated nor subdued.
In composing this poem, it may be naturally presumed, that
Dryden exerted his full powers. He was to justify, in the eyes of
the world, a step which is always suspicious ; and; by placing be-
fore the public the arguments by which he had been induced to
change his religion, he was at once to exculpate himself, and in-
duce others to follow his example. He chose, for the mode of con-
veying this instruction, that parabolical form of writing, which
took its rise perhaps in the East, or rather which, in a greater or
less degree, is common to all nations. An old author observes,
that there is ''no species of four-footed beasts, of birds, offish, of
insects, reptiles, or any other living things, whose nature is not
found in man. How exactly agreeable to the fox are some men's
tempers ; whilst others are profest bears in human shape. Here
you shall meet a crocodile,|who seeks, with feigned tears, to entrap
you to your ruin ; there a serpent creeps, and winds himself into
your affections, tUl, on a sudden, when warmed with favours, he
* Our author was not the only poet who hailed this dawn of toleration ; for
there is in Luttrell's Collection, ♦* A Congratulatory Poem, dedicated to his
Majesty, on the late gracious Declaration (9th June 1687 ;) by a Person of Qua-
lity."
90 THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
"Will bite and sting you to death. Tygers, lions, leopards^ panthers,
wolves^ and all the monstrous generations of Africa, may be seen
masquerading in the forms of men; and 'tis not hard for an ob-
serving mind to see their natural complexions throaffh the bor-
rowed vizard."* Dryden concaved the idea, of extehdihg to reli-
gious communities uie supposed resemblance between man and
the lower animals. Under the name of a «^ milk-white Hind^ im-
mortal and unchanged/' he described the ufiity, simplicity^ and in-
nocence of the churchy to which he had become a convert ; and un-
der that of a Panther, fierce and inexorable towards those of a dif-
ferent persuasion^ hebodied forth thechurch of England, obstinate
in defending its palefrom encroachment, bythe penal statutes and
the Test act.t There wanted not critics to tell him, that he had
mistaken the character of either communi<m4 The inferior sects
• Turkish Spy, VoL vui. p. 19.
•f- Perhaps the poet recollected the attributes ascrihed to the panther by one
of the fathers : ** PaniheraSf ut Divut Banliiu ait^ eum immani sint ae crudeli
odio in hominet a ttatura incenses^ in hominum simiilacra furibundce irruunt^ nee
ahter hominum ejffigiem, quam homines i$po8 dtZace^'aM/.*'— Granateus, Con*
don. de Tempore, Tom. L p. 492.
X *^ Only by the way, before we bring D. against D. to the stake, I would
fain know how Mr Bayes, that so well understood the nature of beasts, came to
pitdi upon the Hind and the Panther, to signify the church of Rome and the
church of England ? Doubtless his reply will be, because the hind is a creature
harmless and innocent ; the panther mischievous and inexorable. Let all this
be granted ; what is this to the author's absurdity in the choice of his beasts ? For
the scene of the persecution is Europe, a part of the world which never bred pan-
thers since the creation of the universe. On the other side, grant his allubioo
passable, and then he stigmatizes the church of England to be the most cruel
and most voracious creature that ranges all the Lybian deserts ; — a character,
which shews him to have a strange mist before his eyes when he reads ecclesias-
tical history. And then, says he,
The panther, sure the noblest next the hind,
And fairest creature of the spotted kind.
Which is another blunder, cujus contrarinm verum at : For if beauty, strength,
and courage, advance the value of the several parts of the creation, without ques-
tion the panther is far to be preferred before the hind, a poor, silly timorous, ill-
shaped, bobtailed creature, of which a score will hardly purchase the skin of a true
panther. Had he looked a little farther, Ludolphus would have furnished him
with a zebra, the most beautiful of all the four-footed creatures in the world, to
have jcoped with his panther for spots, and with his hind for gentleness and mild-
ness ; of which one was sdd singly to the Turkish governor of Suaquena for 2000
Venetian ducats. There had been a beast for him, as pat as a pudding for a
friar's mouth. But to couple the hind and the panther, was just like sic magna
parvis componere ; and, therefore, he had better put his hind in a good pasty, or
reserved her for some more proper allusion ; for this, though his nimble beast
have four feet, will by no means run quatuor pedibus, though she had a whole
kennel of hounds at her heels."— 7*^^ RevoHer, a Tragt-comedy,
THE mND AND THE PAWTHER. 91
are ilescribecl under the emblem of varioiis animals, fierce and dis-
gustily in proportion to their marc remolb aflinity to the church
of Rome. Aiul in a diakgoe between the two principal cha-
racters, the leading aiguments of the controversy between the
churdies, at least what the poet chose to consider as such, arc
formally discussed.
But Dryden's plan is far from coming within the limiu of a fa-
ble or parable, strictly so called ; for it is strongly objected, that
the poet has been unable to avoid confounding tlie ml churdies
themselves with the Hind and the Panther, under which they are
represented. ««'The hind," as Johnson observes, " at one time is
afraid to drink at the common brook, because she may be worried ;
but, walking home with the panther, talks by the way of the Ni-
cene fathers, and at last declares herself tobe the Catholic church."
And the same critic complains, ** that the king is now Csesar, and
now die lion, and that the name Pan is given to the Supreme Be-
ing." ''The Hind and Panther transversed, or the City and Conn-
try Mouse," the joint compodtion of Prior and Montague,
written in ridicule of this poem, turns diiefly upon the incon-
gruity of the emblems adopted by Diyden, and the inconsis-
tencies into which his plan had led him.* This ridicule, and
• The following justification of the plan of the anthors is taken from the pre-
face, which is believed to have been entirely the oompostion of Monb^ue.
•' The favourers of ^ The Hind and Panther* will be apt to say in its defence,
that the hcst things are capable of being turned to ridicule ; that Homer has been
burlesqued, and Virgfl travestied, without sufiering any thing in their reputation
from that bufibonery ; and that, in Hke manner, * The Hii^ and the Panther'
may be an exact poem, though it is the subject of our raillery : But there is this
difference^ that those aothon are wrestad from their true sense, and this naturally
falls into ridicule ; there is nothing represented here as monstrous and unnatural,
which is not'equally so in tfie original.— First, as to the general design ; Is it
not as easy to imagine two mice bilking coachmen, and supping at ^e Devil,
as to suppose a hind entertaining the panther at a hermit's cell, discussing the
greatest mysteries of religion, and telling you her son Rodriguez writ very good
Spanish ? What can be more improb^e and oootradictoiy to the rules and
examples of all ftbles, and to the very design and use of them ? They were first
begun, and raised to the hij^est perfection, in the eastern countries, where they
wrote in signs, and spoke in parableB, and delivered the most useful precepts in
delightful stories ; which, for their aptness, were entertaining to the most judi-
cious, and led the vulgar into understanding by surprizing them with their no-
velty, and fixing their attention. All their fiddes carry a double meaning ; the
story is one and entire ; the characters the same throug^iout, not broken or
changed, and always oonfbnnahlie to the nature of the creatures they introduce.
They never tdl you, that the dog, whidi snapt at a shadow, lost his troop of
horse ; that would be unintelligible ; a piece of flesh is proper for him to drop,
and the reader will apply it to manldnd : They would not say that the daw, who
was so proud of her borrowed plumes, looked very ridiculous, when Rodriguez
came and took away all the book but the 17th, 84^, and 25th chapters, which
92 THE HIND AND THE PANTHEIL
the criticism on which it is founded, seems^ however, to be car-
ried a little too for. If a fable, or parable, is to be entirely and
exclusively limited to a detail whidi may suit the commcm ac-
shti stole from him. But this is his new way of telling a story, and confounding
the moral and the fable together.
Befoire die woid was wriUeiif said the hind.
Our Saviour preachM the fidth to all manldnd.
What relation has the hind to our Saviour ? or what notion have we of a pan-
therms Bible ? If you say he means the ehurch, how does the church feedon
lawns, or range in the forest ? Let it be always a church, or always the doven-
footed beast, for we cannot bear his shifting the scene every Hne. If it is abnud
in comedies to make a peasant talk in the strain of a hero, or a country wench
use the language of the court, how monstrous is it to make a priest of a hind,
and a parson of a panther ? To bring them in disputing with uL the ibniialities
and terms of the school'? Though as to the arguments themselves, those we
confess are suited to the capacity of the beasts ; and if we would suppose a hind
expressing herself about these matters, she would talk at that xate.^*
The render may be curious to see a 'Specimen of the manner in whidi these
two applauded wits encountered Diyden*s controversial poem, with such eminent
success, that a contemporary author has said, '* that * The City and Countiy
Mouse* ruined the reputation of the divine, as the ^ Rehearsal* ruined the rq^-
tation of the poet*** The pUn is a dialogue between Bayes, and Smith, and
•Johnson, his old friends in the ** Rehearral ;** the{K>et recites to them a new
work, in which the Popish and English churches are represented as the dty and
country mouse, the former spotted, the latter milk-white. The following is a
specimen both of the poetry and dialogue :
" Bayes. [Reads,] With these allurements. Spotted did invite.
From hermit*8 cdl, the female prosdyte.
Oh, with what ease we follow such a guide.
Where souls are s^^ed, and senses gratified !
<* Now, would not you think she*s going ? but, egad, you're mistaken ; you
shall hear a long argument about infallibility before she stir yet :
But here the White, by observation wise,
Who long on heaven had fixed her prying eyes,
W^th thoughtful countenance, and grave remark,
Said, *^ Or my judgment fails me, or *tis dark ;
Lest, therefore, we should stray, and not go right,
Through the brown horror of the starless night.
Hast thou Infallibility, that wight ?'*
Sternly the savage grinn*d, and thus replied,
** That mice may err, was never yet denied.**
*•* That I deny,'* said the immortal dame,
** There is a guide, — Gad, I've forgot his name,—
* Preface to the Second Part of *< The Reasons of Mr Bayes changing his
Religion."
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 93
tions and properties of the animals^ or things introduced in it,
we strike out fit)m the class some which have always been held
the most beautiful examples of that style of fiction. It is surely as
Who tives in Heaven or Rome, the Lord knows where ;
Had we but him, sweet-heart, we could not err.—
But hark ye, sister, this is but a whim.
For still we want a guide to find out him.*'
** Here, you see, I don*t trouble myself to keep on the narration, but write
White speaks, or Dapple speaks, by the side. But when I get any noble thought,
which I envy a mouse should say, I dap it down in my own person, with a poeta
loquitur ; which, take notice, is a surer sign of a fine thing in my writings, than a
hand in the margent anywhere else.^-Wdl now, says White,
What need we find him ? we have certain proof
That he is somewhere, ^me, and that's enough ;
For if there is a guide that knows the way,
Although we know not him, we cannot stray.
** That's true, egad : Well said, White.— You see her adversary has nothing
to^say for herself; and, therefore, to confirm the victory, she shall make a simile.
Smith. yf^Ji then, I find nmilies are as good after victory, as after a sur-
prize.
Bayet. Every jot, egad $ or rather better. Well, she can do it two ways ; either,
about emission or recept^n of light, or else about Epsom waters : But I think
the last is most familiar ; therefore speak, my pretty one. [iZ^oif.]
As though 'tis controverted in the school,
If waters pass by urine, or by stool ;
Shall we, who are philosophers, thence gather.
From this dissention, that they work by neither ?
" And, egad, she's in the right on't ; but, mind now, she comes upon her scoop.
[Readt.]
All this I did, your arguments to try.
<* And, egad, if they had been never so good, this next lin^ confutes 'em.
[Read8.\
Hear, and be dumb, thou wretch, that guide am I.
'* There's a surprize for you now !— How sneakingly t'other looks !— Was not
that pretty now., to make her ask for a guide first, and tell her she was one ?
Who could have thought that this little mouse had the Pope, and a whole gene-
ral council, in her belly ?— -Now Dapple had nothing to say io this ; and, there-
fore, you'll see she grows peevish, t-'^^^'^*!
Come leave your cracking tricks ; and, as they say,
Use not that barber that trims time, delay ;—
Which, egad, is new, and my own.
I've eyes as well as you to find the way."—
I
94 THE HIND AND THE P4NTHER.
ea9y to ccmoeive a Hind and Panther discussing points of religion,
as that the trees of the forest should assemble together to chuse
a king^ invite different trees to accept of that dignity, and, finally,
make choice of a bramble. Yet no one ever hesitates to pronounce
Jotham's Parable of the Trees one of the finest which ever was
}
Then qn they jogg*d ; aiicU since an hour of talk
Might cut a banter on the tedious walk,
** As I remember,** said the sober Mouse,
" I've heard much talk of the Wits* Coffee-house.**
** Thither,** says Brindle, ^* thou shalt go, and see
/ Priests sipping coffee, niarks and poets tea ;
Here, rugged frieze ; there, quality well drest ;
These, baffling the Grand Seigneur ; those, the Test;
And here shrewd guesses made, and reasons given.
That human laws were never made in heaven*
But, above all, what shall oblige thy sight.
And fill thy eye-balls with a vast delight.
Is the poetic Judge of sacred wit,*
Who does i*the darkness of his glory sit.
And as the moon, who first receives the light
With which she makes these nether regions bright,
So does he shine, reflecting from afar ^
The rays he borrow*d from a better star ;
For rules, which from Corneille and Rapin flow,
Admired by all the scribbling herd below,
Proip Frendi tradition while he does dispense,
Unerring truths, 'tis schism,— « damn*d offence,—
To question his, or trust your private sense.
" Ha ! is not that right, Mr Johnson ?— Gad forgive me, he is fast asleep !
Oh, the damned stupidity of this age ! Asleep !— -Well, sir, since you*re eio drowsy,
your humble servant.
Johtt, Nay, pray, Mr Bayes ! Faith, I heard you all the while.— The white
mouse
Bayes, The white mouse ! Ay, ay, I thought how yon heard me. Your set-
vant, sir, your servanL
John, Nay, dear Bayes : Faitli I beg thy pardon, I was up late last night.
Prithee, lend me a little snuff, and go on.
Bayes. Go on ! Pox, I don't know where I was.— Well, 1*11 begin. Here,
mind, now they are both come to town. [Reads^]
But now at Piccadilly they arrive,
. And takipg coach, t*wards Teinple-Bar they drive ;
But, at St Clement's church, eat out the back,
And^ slipping through the Palsgrave, bilk*d poor hade.
'* Tliere*3 the utile which ought to be in all poetry. Many a young Templar
will save his shilling by this stratagem of my mice.
Smith. Why, wiB any young Templar eat out the back of a coach ?
Bayes, No, egad ! But you'll grant, it is mighty natur^U for a mou8e."<»^tfii
sind Panther Trdnsversed. ,
Such was the wit, which, bolstered up by the applause of party, was deemed
an unanswerable ridicule of Dryden's favourite poem.
* i. e. Dryden himself.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 95
written. Or what shall we say of one of the most common among
iEsop's apologues, which informs us in the outset, that the b'on,
the ox, the sheep, and the ass, went a hunting together, on condi-
tion o^di viding equally whatever should be caught ? Yet this and
many other fables, in which the animals introduced act altogether
contrary to their nature, are permitted to rank without censure in
the class which they assume. Nay, it may be questioned whether
the most proper fables are not those in which the animals are in-
troduced as acting upon the principles of mankind. For instance,
if an author be compared to a daw, it is no €able, but a simile ;
but if a tale be told of a daw who dressed himself in borrowed
feathers, a thing naturally impossible, the simile becomes a proper
fable. Perhaps, therefore, it is sufficient for the fabulist, if he
can point out certain original and leading features of resem-
blance betwixt his emblems, and that which they are intended to
represent, and he may be permitted to take considerable latitude
in their farther approximation. It may be fiirther urged in Dry-
den's behalf^ that the older poets whom he rNrofessed to imitate^
Spenser, for example, in '^ Mother Hubbart's Tale," which he has
actually quoted, and Chaucer, in that of the '* Nun's Priest's Tale,"
havestepped beyond the simplicity of the ancient &ble, and intro-
duced a species of mixed composition, between that and down-
right satire. The names and characters of beasts are only assu«
med in ^^ Mother Hubbart's Tale," that the satirist might, under
that slight cloak, say with safety what he durst not otherwise
have ventUTjed upon ; and in the tale of Chaucer, the learned
dialogue about ureams is only put into the mouths of a cock
and hen, to render the ridicule of such disquisitions more p<Ng«
nant. Ha4 Spenser been asked, why he described the court of
the lion as exactly similar to that of a human prince, and intro-
duced the fox as composing madrigals for the courtiers? he
would hav'e bidden the querist,
-Yield his sense was all too Mont and base.
That n*ote without a hound fine footing trace.
And if this question had been put to the bard of Woodstock,
why he made his cock an astrologer, and his, hen a physician,
he would have answered, that his satire might become more ludi-
crous, by putting these grave speedies into the mouths of such
animals. Dryden seems to have proposed as his model this looser
kind of parable ; giving his personages, indeed, the names of
the Hind and Panther, but reserving to himself the privilege of
making the supposed animals use the language and arguments
of the communities they were intended to represent. I must
own, however, that this licence appears less pardonable in tlic
First Part, where he professes to usje the majestic turns of heroic
poetry, than in those which are dedicated to argument and satire.
96 THE HIND AND THE VANTHEK.
Dryden has, in this very jpoem, given us two examples of the
more pure and correct species of fable. These, which he terms
in the preface Episodes, are the tale of the Swallows seduced to
defer their emigration, and that of the Pigeons, who chose a Buz-
zard for their king.* It is remarkable, that, as the former is by
much the most complete story, so, although put in the mou^ m
a representative of the heretical church, it proved eventually to
contain a truth sorrowful to our author, and those of the Roman
Catholic persuasion : For, while the Buzzard's elevation (Bishop
Burnet by name) was not attended with any peculiar evil conise-
quences to the church of England, the short gleam of Popish
prosperity was soon overcajst, and the priests and their proselytes
plunged in reality into all the distress of the Swallows in the
Panmer's fable.
In conformity to our author's plan, announced in the prefiice,
the fable is divided into three parts. The First is dedicated to the
general description and character of the religious sects, particu-
larly the churches of Rome and of England. And here Dryden
has used the more elevated strain of heroic poetry. In the Ser
cond, the general arguments of the controversy between the two
churches are agitated, for which purpose a less magnificent style
of language is adopted. In the Third and last Part, from discuss-
ing the disputed points of theology, the Hind and Panther de-
scend to consider the particulars in which their temporal interests
were judged at this period to interfere with each other. And here
Dryden has lowered the tone of his verse to that of common con-
versation. We must admit, with Johnson, that these distinctions
of style are not always accuratelv adhered to. The First Part has
familiar lines ; as, for instance, the four with which it concludes :
Considering her a dvil well-bred beast,
And more a gentlewoman than the rest,
After some common talk, what rumours ran.
The lady of the spotted muffb^an.
Some passages are not only mean in expression, but border on
profaneness; as.
The smith divine, as with a careless beat.
Struck out the mute creation at a heat ;
But when at last arrived to human race,
The Godhead took a deep considering space*
* I know not, however, but a ciitic n.igh,. here also point out an example of
that discrepancy, which is censured by Johnson, and ridiculed by Prior. The
cause of dissatisfaction in the pigeon -house is, that the proprietor chuses rather to
feed upon the flesh of his domestic poultry, than upon theirs ; no very rational
cause of mutiny on the part of the doves.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 97
On the other>Iuind, the Third Part has passages in a higher tone of -
poetry ; particularly the whole character of James in the fable of
the Pigeons and the Buzzard : but it is enough to fulfil the au-
thor's promise in the preface^ that the parts do each in general
preserve a peculiar character and style, though occasionally siu
ding into that of the others.
It is a main de^t of the plan just detailed^ that it necesaarilv ■
limited the interest of the poem to that crisis of politics when it
was published. A work, which the author announces as calcula-
ted to attract the favour of friends^ and to animate the malevo-
lence of enemies^ is now read with cold indifference. He launched
forth into a tide of controversy, which^ however furious at the
time^ has long subsided^ leaving his poem a disregarded wreckj
stranded upon the shores which the surges once occupied.
Setting aside this original defect^ the First and Last Parts of thq
poem, in particular^ abound with passages of excellent poetry^ In
the former^ it is worthy attention, with what ease and commanc^
of his language and subject Dryden passes from his sublime de-
scription of the immortal Hind, to brand and stigmatise the secta^
lies by whom she was hated and persecuted ; a rare union of dig«
nity preserved in satire, and of satire engrafted upon heroic poe-
try. The reader cannot^ at the same time, fail to observe the fe-i
licity with which the poet has assigned prototypes to the dissent-
ing churches, agreeing in character with that which he meant to
fix upon their several congregations. The Bear, unlicked tp
forms, is the emblem of the Independents, who disclaimed them;*
the Wolf, which hunts in herds, to the classes and synods of
the Presbyterian church ; the Hare, to the peaceful Quakers ;
the wild Boar, to the fierce and savage Anabaptists, who ra-
« Butler, however, assignft the Bear-Gardenas a type of my Mother Kirk; an4
ihe reeemblance is thus proved by Ralpho :
Sjmods are mystical bear-gardens.
Where elders,, deputies, <£urch- wardens.
And other members of the court,
Manage the Babylonish sport ;
For prolocutor, scribe, and bear-wazd.
Do differ only in a mere word ;
Both are but several synagogues
Of carnal men, and bears and dogs ;
* Both antkhristian assemblies,
To mischief bent as far's in them lies ;
Both slave and toil with fierce contests,
The one with men, the other beasts :
The difference is, the one fights with
The tongue, the other with the teeth ;
And that tbey bait but bears in this^
In fothpr souls and consciences.
VOL. X. Q
98 THE HIND AKD THE FANTHfi&.
vaeed Germany, the native country of that aninML IVith n-
muar felicity, the *' bird, who warned St Peter of his &h/* Im,
from that circumstance, and his nocturnal vigils, afterwards as^
signed as the representative of the Catholic dergy. Above all,
the attention is arrested by the pointed description of those dark
and suUen enthusiasts, who, scarcely agreeing among themselves
upon any peculiar pointsof doctrine, rested their claim to superior
sanctity upon abominating and contemning those usual forms of
reverence, by which men, in all countries since the beginning of
the world, have agreed to distinguish public worship from ordma-
ry or temporal employments. The whole of this Furst Part of the
poem abounds with excellent poetry, rising above the tone of or-
dinary satire,and yet p<Msessing all its poignancy. The difference,
to those against whom it is directed, is wne that of beins blasted
by a thunder-bolt, instead of being branded with a rtd-^ot iron.
Th^ First Part of *' The Hind and Panther," although chiefly
dedicated to general characters, contains some reasoning on the
grand controversy, similar to that which occupies the Second.
The author displays, with the utmost art and energy of amimen-
tative poetry, the reasons by yhich he was himself guided in
adopting the Roman Catholic faith. He is led into this discussion
byhnentioningtheheretical doctrine of the Unitarians; and insists,
that the Protestant churches, which have consented to postpone
human reason to fidth, by acquiescing in the orthodox doctrine of
the Trinity, are not entitled to appeal to the authority whidi
they have waived, for arguments against the mystery of the res!
presence in the eucharist This was a favourite mode of rea«
soning of the Catholics at the time, as may be seen from the
numerous treatises whidi they sent forth upon the controversy*
Httdibras denies ^e resonblance, ami answers by an appeal to the
For bears and dogs on four legs go
As beasts, but synod-men have two ;
'Tis true, they all have teeth and nails*
But prove that synod-men have tails ; '
Or that, a rugged shaggy fur
Grows o*er the hide of presbyter ;
. Or that his snout and spacious e&rs
Do hold proportion widi a beards.
A bear's a savage beast, of all
Most ugly and unnatuial ;
VIThelp'd without form, until the dam
Has lick'd it into shape and frame ;
But all thy light can ne*er evict.
That ever synod man was lickt.
Or brought to any other fashion,
l*han hu own will and inclination*
Budibraty Vui U Cukto %
THE HIKD AND THE FANTHEB. 99
It is undoubtedly very fit to Impode on the vulgar, but complete-
ly overi^oots the mtrk at whidi it aimg. For, if our yielding
humble belief to one abstruse doctrine of divinity be sufficient to
debar the exercise of our reason respecting another, it is obvious,
that, by the same reason, the appeal to our understanding must
be altogether laid aside in matters of doubtful orthodoxy. The
Pr9te8tant divines, thereforey took a distinction ; and, while they
admitted they were obliged to surrender their human judgment
in matters of divine revelation which were above their reason, they
asserted the power of appealing to its ^idance in those things of a
finite nature which depend on the evidence of sense, and the con-
sequent privil^fes of rejecting any doctrine, which, being within
the sphere of human comprehension, is nevertheless repugnant to
die understanding : thcffefore* while they received the doctrine of
the Trinity as an infinite mystery, far above their reason, they
contended against that of transubstantiation, as capable of being
tried by human fiiculties, and as contradicted by an appeal to
them. In a subsequent passage, the author taxes the church of
England with an attempt to reconcile contradictions, by admitting^
the real presence in the eucharist, and yet denying actual transub-
stantiation. Dry den boldly appeals to the positive words of Scrip-
Cure, and 9ums his doctrine thus :
The literal sense ii hard to flesh and blood.
But nonsense never can be understood.
Granting, however, the obscurity or mystery of the one doctrine,
it is a hard choice to be obliged to adopt, in its room, that which
asserts an acknowledged irapossibihty.
In the Second Part, another point of the controversy is agitated ;
the infallibility t namely, which is claimed by the Roman church.
The author appears here to have hampered himself in the toils of
his own argument in a former poem^ He had asserted in the
** 'Religio I^4ci," that the Scriptures contained all things necessary
for salvation ; while he yet admitted, that those, whose bent inch-
ned theiwto the study of polemical di^rinity, were to be guided by
the exfiositions of the fathers, and the earlier, especially the writ-i*
ten traditions of the Church. Thei^e is, as has been noticed in
the remarka pn '^ Re%ip Laici," a certain vacillation in our au-
thor's arguments concerning tradition, while yet a Projtestant, which
prepares us for his finally reposing his doubts in the bosom of that
/church, i^hjich pretends to be the sole depositary of the earlier
doctrines of Christianity, and claims a right to ascertain all doubts
in point of faith, by the same mode, and with the same unerring
certainty, as the original church in the days of the apostles and
fath^rf • These doubts, with which Dryden sepms to have been
deeply impressed while within the pale of the Church of En^g^land,
\i.^."^-^V
100 THE HIND AKD THE ?ANTHEB.
he now objects to her as inconsistencies, and accuses her <»f having
recourse to tradition, or discarding it^ as suited the ailment
which, for the time, she had in aff itation. It is unnecessary here
to trace the various grounds on which refbrmed diurches provey
that the chain of apostolical tradition has been broken and shiver*
ed; and that the church, claiming the protfd title of In&llible, has
repeat^y sanctioned heresy and error. Neither is it necessary
to ^hew, how the Church of England stops short in her recep-
tion of traditions, adopting only those of the primitive churoL
Something on these points may be found in the notes* I may re«
mark^ that Dryden is of the Gallican or low Church of Rome, if
I may so speak, and rests the infallibility which he claims for her
in the Pope and Council of the Church, and not in the Vicar of
Christ alone. In point of literary interest, this Second Part is
certainly beneath tne other two. It furnishes, however, an exceU
lent specimefn of poetical ratiocination upon a most unpromising
Bubiect
The Third Part refers entirely to the politics of the day ; and
the poet has endeavoured^ by a number of arguments, to remove
the deep jealousy and apprehensions which the king's religion, and
his zeal for prosel3^sm, had awakened in the Church of England.
He does not even spare to allege a recent adoption of presbyteriaa
doctrines, as the reason for her unwonted resistance to the royal
will; and all the vigour of his satire is pointed against the latitu-
dinarian clergy, or, as they were finally called, the Low Church
Party, who now began to assert, what James at length found a
melancholy truth, that the doctrine of passive obedience and non-
resistance was not peremptorily binding, when the church herself
was endangered by the measures of the monarch. Stillingfleet»
the personal antagonist of our author, in the controversy concern-
ing the Duchess of York's posthumous declaration of faith, is per-
sonallyand ferociously attacked. The poem concludes with a fable
delivered by each of the disputants, of which the moral applies to
the project and hopes of her rival. We have already said, that
which IS told by the Panther, as it is most spirited and pointed*
proved, to the great regret of the author, most strictly prophetic.
It is remarkable for containing a beautiful character of King
Jamesy as the other exhibits a satirical portrait of the historian
Burnet, with whom the court party in general, and Dryden per-
sonally, were then at enmity.
The verse in which these doctrines, polemical and {political, are
delivered, is among the finest specimens of the English heroic
stanza. The introductory verses, in particular, are lofty and dig-
nified in the highest degree; as are those, in which the splendour
and majesty of the Church of Rome are set forth, in all tne glow-
ing colours of rich imagery and magnificent language. But the
13
THfl HIND AND THE PANTHER. l&l
•aiiie pnose extends Uhtke versification of the whole poem. It
iiever Mis, never becoi^es rugged ; rises with the dignified strain
of the poetry; sinks into. quaint familiarity^ where sarcasm and
humour are employed ; and winds through aJl the mazes of theo-
logical argument^ without becoming either obscure or prosaic.
The arguments are in general advanced with an air of conviction
and candour, which, in those days, must have required the pro-
testant reader to be on his guard in the perusal, and which seems
completely to ascertain the sincerity of the author in his new re-
ligious creed.
This controversial poem, containing a bold defiance to all who
opposed the king's measures or faith, had no sooner appeared,
than our author became a more general object of attack than he
had been even on the publication of " Absalom and Achitophel."
Indeed, his enemies were now far more numerous, including most
of his former friends, the 2hrieso£the high church, excepting a
very few who remained attached to James, and saw, with anxiety,
his destruction precipitated by the measures he was adopting.
Montague and Prior were among the first to assail our aumor,
in the parody, of which we have just given a large specimen. It
must have been published before tlie 24th October 1687^ for it is
referred to in " The Laureat," another libel against Dryden, in-
scribed by Mr Luttrel with that date. This assault affected him
the more, as coming from persons with whom he had lived on
habits of civility. He is even said to have shed tears upon this
occasion; a report probably exaggerated, but which serves to
shew, that he was sensible he had exposed himself to the most
unexpected assailants, by the unpopularity of the cause which he
had espoused. Some further particulars respecting this contro-
versy are mentioned in Dryden's Life. Another poet, or parodier,
published " The Revolter, a tragi-comedy," in which he brings
the doctrines of the *' Religio Laici,'* and of the '* Hind and
Panther," in battle array against each other, and rails at the
author of both with the most unbounded scurrility.*
* '^ In ihort, the whole poem, if it may deserve that name, is a piece of de.
formed, arrogant nonsense, and self-contradiction, drest up in fine language,
Wu an uglj brazen-faeed whore, peeping through die costly trappings of a
point de VenUe comet. I call it nonsense, because unseasonable ; and arrogant,
because impertinent : For could Mr Bayes have so little wit, t9 think him^lf a
•affident chammon to decide the high mysteries of faith and transubstahtiation,
and the nice disputes concerning traditions and infallibility, in a discourse be-
tween ** The Hind and the Panther," which, undetermined hitherto, have exer-
cised til the learning in the world ? Or, could he think the grand arcana of
divinity a subject fit to be handled in flounshirig rhyme, by the author of *' The
Dukf of GuiM," or ^* The Conquest of Peru,*' or «* The Spanish Friar :*'
108 TITE HIND AND THE PANTHES.
Not only new enemiet arose against him, but the hiMtilitj of
former and deceased foes seemed to experwnce a sort of reaurreD-
tion. Four Letters, by Matthew Clifiord of the Charter- House,
containing notes upon Dryden's poems and plays, were now either
published for the first time, or raked up from the obscuritY of ^
a dead-bom edition, to fill up the cry of criticism against him'
on all rides. They are coarse and virulent to the last degree, and
so fiir served the purpose of the publishers ; but, as they had no
reference to " The Hind and Panther," that defect was removed
by a supplementary Letter from the facetious Toifi Brown, an ao^
thor, whose sole wish was to attain the reputatioiii of a anecesaful
bufibon, and who, like the jesters of old, having once made him-
self thorouffhly absurd and ridiculous, gained a sort of privilege'
to make others feel his grotesque raillery.* Berides the reflec«
Doubts which Mr Bayes it no more able to uofoldy than Saffold to rewlTe a
question in astrology. And all tbia only as a tale to usher in his beloved cha-
racter, and to diew the excellency of his wit in abusing honest men. If thesis
were his thoughts, as we cannot rationally otherwise believe, seeing that bo maa
of understanmng will undertake an enterprize, wherein he does not think him-
adf to have some advantage of his predecessors ; then does this lomance, I aay,
of The Panther and the Hind, fall under the most fatal censure of unseasonable
folly and saucy impertinence. Nor can I think, that the more solid, prudent,
and learned persons of the Roman Churdi, con him any thanks for laying Are
prophane fingers of a turn-coat upon the altar of their sacred debates."— .7%e
JtevotUTt a tragi.comedy, acted between The Hind and Panther and Rdigio
lAid, &c 1687.
* The following is the commencement of his ** Reflections on the Hind and
Panther,'* in a Letter to a Friend, 1687 :
** The present vou have made me of * The Hind and Panther,* is variously
talked of here in tne country. Some wonder what kind of champion the Roman
Catholics have now gotten ; for they have had divers wajrs of representing them-
selves ; but this of rfajrming us to death, is altogether new and unhourd d^
before Mr Bayes set about it ; and, indeed, he hath done it in the markishart
poem that ever was seen. 'Tis true, he hath written a great many dungs ; but
ne never had such pure swifbiess of thought, as in this composition, nor such
fiery flights of fancy. Such hath always been his dramatical and scenical way of
scribbling, that there was no post nor pillar in the town exempt firom the pasting
up of the titles of his plays ; insomuch, that the footboys, for want of skill in
reading, do now (as we hear) often bring away, by mistake, the title of a new
book against the Chureh of England, instead of taking down the play for the af-
ternoon. Yet, if he did it weU or handsomely, he might deserve some pardon ;
but, alas ! how ridiculously doth he appear in print for any religion, who bath
-made it his business to laugh at all ! How can he stand up for any mode of wor^
ship, who hath been accustomed to bite, and spit his vencm against the very name
thereof ?
^* Wherefore, I cannot but wish our adversaries joy on their new-co n v e itid
hero, Mr Bayes ; whose principle it is to fight single with whole armies ; nd
this one quality he prefers before all the moral virtues put together. The Ro-
man Catholics may talk what they will, of their Bellarmine and Perrone* their
Hector and Achilles, and I know not who ; but 1 desire them all, to shew one
TH& HIND AND THE PAKTHEa. 103
tions contained in this Letter, Brown also published " The New
Converts exposed^ or Reasons for Mr Bayes changing his Reli-
gion^" in two parts ; the first of which appeared in I688, and
the second in 1690. From a- passage in the preface to the first
partyWhicfi may serve as a sample of Tom's buffoonery, we learn,
Dryden publicly complained, that, although he had put his name
to '* The Hind and Panther," those who criticized or replied to
that poem had not imitated his example**
such champion for the cause, as this Drawcansk : For he is the man that kills whole
nations at once ; who, as he never wrote any thing, that any one can imagine'has ever
been the practice of the world, so, that in lus late endeavours to pen centroversy, you
shall hardly find one word to the purpose. He is that accomplished person, who loves
reasoning so much in verse, and hath got a knack of writing it smoothly. The
subject (he treats of in this poem) did, in his opinion, require more than ordinazj
spirit and flame ; therefore, he suppoMsd it to he too great for prose ; for he is too
proud, to creep servilely after sense ; so that, in his verse, he soars high above
the reach of it. To do this, there is no need of brain, 'tis but scanning right |
the labour is in the finger, not in the head.
** However, if Mr Bayes would be pleased to abate a Hfetle of the exuberancy
of his fancy and wit ; to dispense with bis ornaments and superfluendes of inven-
tion afid satire, a man might consider, whether he should submit to lus aigti-
ment ; but take away the railing, and no argument remains ; so that one may
beat the bush a whole day, and» after s6 much labour, only spring a butterfly,
or start a hedee-hog.
*' For all this, is it not great pity to see a man, in the flower of his romantic
conceptions, in the full vigour of his studies on love and honour, to fall into
such a distraction, as to w& through the thorns and briars of controversy, unless
his confessor hath commanded it, as a penance for some past sins ? that a man,
who hath read Don Quixote for the greatest part of his life, should pretend to
interpret the Bible, or trace the footsteps of tradition, even in the darkest ages?"
-— JPour Letters, &c.
* ^* To draw now to an end, Mr Bayes, I hear, has lately complained, at
Willis* Coff*eehouse, of the iU usage he has met in the world ;. that whereas he
had the generosity and assurance to set his own name to his late piece of polemic
poetry, yet others, who have pretended to answer him, wanted the breeding and
civility to do the like : Now, because I would not willingly disoblige a person of
Mr Baye8*s character, I do here fiiirly, and before all the world, assure him that
my name is Dudly Tomkinson, and that I live within two miles of St Michael's
Mount, in Cornwall, and have, in my time, been both constable, church-warden,
and overseer of the parish ; by the same token, that the little gallery next the
belfrey, the new motto about the pulpit, the king's arms, the ten command-
ments, and the great sim-dial in the church-yard, inll transmit my name to all
posterity. Furthermore, (if it will do him any g^Dod at all) I can make a pretty
shift to read without spectacles ; wear my own hair, which is somewhat indining
to red ; have a large mole on my left cheek ; am mightily troubled with corns ;
and what is peculiar to my constitution, after half-a-dozen bottles of claret, which
I generally carry home every night from the tavern, I never fail of a stool or two
next morning ; besides, use to smoke a pipe every day af\er dinner, and after-
wards steal a nap for an hour or two in the old wicker-chair near the oven ; take
104 THE HIND AND THE PANTHEE.
•
Another of these wit^ varleU jmbliihed, ia 1688, '' Bdi|^
tid, or a Layman's Faith^ touching the Supreme Head and In-
fallible Guide of the Church, in Two Letters, &c. by J. B. a^on-
vert o£ MrBayes," licensed June the first, 1688. From this pasi-
phlet we have given some extracta in the introdoctoiy lemaiks
to <' Religio Laid/' pp. 9, la
There were, besides, many libels of the most personal kind
poured forth against Dryden by the poets who supplied the usual
demand of the hawkers. One of the most virulent contains a sin-
gular exhibition of rage and impotence. It professes to contains
review of our poet's life and literary labours, and calls itself " The
LaureaL" This, aa containmg some curious particulan, is giTen
below,*
gentle pmgadict wpring aod fUl ; and it has been my cuttom, any tinle Ane
sixteen yesri , (as all the parish can testify) to ride in gambadoes. Naj, to via
the heart of him for ever, I invite him here, before Sie oourteoni reader, to a
pmnttj rcgak, (provided he will befbte hand promise not to debauch voj wife,)
where he shall have sugar to his roast-beef, and vinegar to his butter; and lasdj,
to make him amends for the tediousness of the journey, a pafod of Miics to cany
home with him, which I believe can seaiiee be matdied in the whole Chrisdaa
wedd ; bat, because I have no great fiuicr that way, I don*t care if I part with
them to so worthy a penon ; tfa^ are as folWwedi s
. " St Gregory's Ritual, bound up in the same calve'«-akin Aat the old gentle-
man, in St Luke, roasted at the return of his prodigal son.
" The quadrant that a Philistine tailor took the height of (^oUah by, when he
made him his last suit of elothes ; for the giant being a man of extraordinary
dimensions, it was impossible to do this in any other way than your designers we
when they take the he^ht of a oountryi^teeple,'' ice Scc^-^ReattHufor Mr Baya
thanginghitlUHgUm. See Prefiice.
• THE LAUREAT.
Jatk Squdk*9 history ^ in a little drawn.
Dawn to hit eveninfffrom his morning dawn,
(Bought by Mr Luttrel, 24th October, 1667.)
Appear, thou mighty bard, to open view ;
Whidi yet, we must confess, you need not do.
The labour to expose thee we may save ;
Thou standst upon thy own records a knave,
Condemn*d to hve in thy apostate rhymes.
The curse of ours, and scoff of future times.
Still tacking round with every turn of state.
Reverse to Shaftesbury, thy cursed fate
Is always, at a change, to come too late.
To keep hi? plots from coxcombs, was his care ;
His villainy was mask d, and thine is bare.
Wise men alone could guess at his design.
And could but guess, the threads were spun so fine
But every purblind fool may see through thine.
THB HIN0 AND THE PANTHER. 105
The ety against our author being thus general^ we may reason^
)ly suppose, that be would have taken some opportunity to ex-
'cise bis powers of retort upon those who were most active or
[O0t considerable among the aggressors, and that Montague and
ricNT stood a fair chance of being coupled up with Doeg and Og»
18 former antagcmists. But, if Dryden entertained any intention
Had Dick stSll ke^t Ihe regal diadem.
Thou hadst been poet laureat still to him.
And, long ere now, in lofty verse prodaim'd
His high extraction, among princes famed ;
Difiiised his glorious deeds, from pole to pole*
Where winds can carry, or where waves can roll :
Nay, had our Charles, by heaven's severe decree.
Been found and murdered in the royal tree.
Even thou hadst praised the fact ; his £iither slain ,
Thou call*st but gently breathing of a vein.
Impious and villunous, to bless the blow
That laid at once three lofty nations low.
And gave the royd cause a fiital overthrow !
Scandal to all religions, new and old ;
Scandal to them, where pardon's bought and soldy
And mortgaged- happiness redeem'd for gold.
Tell me, for 'tis a truth you must allow.
Who ever changed more in one moon than thou ?
Even thy own Zimri was more stedfast known.
He had but one religion, or had none.
What sect of Christians is't tho^ hast not known,
And at one time or other madjB thy own ?
A bristled baptist bred, and then thy strain
Immaculate was far from sinful stain ;
No songs, in those blest times, thou (Udst produce.
To brand and shame good manners out of use ;
The lac^ had not then one b — — bob.
Nor thou the courtly name of Poet Squab.
NffiLt, thy dull muse, an independant jade,
On sacred tyranny fine stanzas made ;
Praised NoU, who even to both extremes did run.
To kill the father and dethrone the son.
When Charles came in, thou-didst a convert grow.
More by thy interest, than thy nature so ;
Under his 'Evening beams thy laurels spread ;
He first did place that wreath about thy head.
Kindly relieved thy wants, and gave thee bread.
Here 'twas thou niadest thy bells of fimcy chime.
And choked the town with suffocating rhyme ;
Till heroes, form'd by thy creating pen,
Were grown as cheap and dull as other men.
I^ush'd with success, full gallery and pit.
Thou bravest all mankind with want of wit ;
Nay, in short time wer't grown so proud a ninny,
As scarce to allow that Ben himselt]
bad any;
106 THS HIND AMD THS PAKfUOU
^^retaliation, the RevolutioD, whidi cnuiied hit ximng proqucts,
took away both the opportuni^ and in cl ina t io p . From that pc^
liod, the iame of' The Hind and Panthei^'gndmdljdinimiflhi
ed, as the controveny between Ptoteatant and Papist 0we wvf 15
that between Whig and Tory. Within a few yean after A^int
publicatimi of the poem. Swift ranks it among the co m p o wtioni
of Grub-street ; ironically terms it, '^ the master-pieoe of a fii-
But when the mett df seme thy error ttw.
They cfaeckM thy mnse, and lupt the tennaguit bk aire»
To satire next thy talent was addreit.
Fell fdul on all, thy friends among the rest :
Those who the oft*nest did thy wants supply.
Abused, traduced, without a reason why t
Nay, even thy royal patron was not qMred,
But an obscene, a santring wretch dedazed*
Thy loyal libel we can stffl produce i
Beyond example, and bejrend excuse.
O strange return fo a forgiring king !
But the warm*d viper wears the greatest sting.
Thy pension lost, and justly without doubt ;
When servants snarl, we ought to hick 'em out ;
They that disdain their benefactor^ bread.
No longer ought by bounty to be fed.
That lost, ^e visor changed, you turn about.
And straight a true blue Protestant crept out.
The *^ Friar** now was writ ; and some will say.
They smell a maLcontent through all the play.
The Papist too was damn'd,. unfit for trust, ' 1
Called treacherous, shameless, profl^te, unjust ; v
And kingly power thought arbitrary lust f
This lasted till thou didst thy pension gain.
And that changed both thy morals and thy strain.
If to write contradictions nonsense be.
Who has more nonsense in their works than thee ?
We*ll mention but thy Lajrman's Faith, and Hind :
Who*ll think both these, such clashing do we find.
Could be the product of one single milid !
Here thou wouldst charitable fain appear,
Ffaid fault that Athanasius was severe ;
Thy pity straight to cruelty is raised.
And even the pious inquisition praised.
And recommended to the present reign,
** O happy countries, Italy and Spain !"
Have we not cause, in thine own words, to say,
Let none believe what varies every day.
That never was, nor will be, at a stay ? ,
Once heathens might be saved, you did allow.
But not, it seems, we greater heathens now.
The loyal thurch, that buoys the kingly line,
Damn*d with a breath, but *tis such a breath as thine
}
THE HIND AND THE PAHTHEB. 107
mou8 ftuthor^ now living, intended as a complete abstract of six-
teen thousand schoolmen^ from Scotus to BeHarmine ;" and im«
mediately subjoins, " Tommy Potts, supposed by tile same liand^
by way of Supplement to the former/'* With such acrimony do
men of genius treat the productions of each other ; and so cer«
tain it is^ that, to enjoy permanent reputation, an anthor most
chuse a theme of permanent interest.
What credit to thy party can it be.
To have gained so lewd a profligate as thee ?
Stray*d from our fold, muces us to laugh, not wttpi
We have but lost what was difgraoe to keepw
By them mistrusted, and to us a soom ;
For 'tis but weakness at the bert to turn.
True, hadst thou left us in the former reign,
Y'had proved it was not wholly done tor §na ;
Now the meridian sun is not so plain.
Gold IB thy god ; for a substantial sum.
Thou to the Turk wonldst nm awsy fiuni Botm,
And sing his holy ezpcditioB against Onastcndoa.
But, to conclude ; Undi with a lascii^ red.
If thou*rt not moved by wbat*8 abcady said.
To see thy boars, bears, buzzards, wolves, and owliw
And an thy other beasts and other fowls.
Routed by two poor mice (uneqaal fight !)
But easy *tis to conquer in the r^|it.
See there a youth, (a shame to thy gray baiff)
Make a mcge dnnceof aU thy t fai f etwe
What in diat tedious poem hast tfaoadone.
But cramm'd aU Stop's foblcs ini* one ?
But why do 1 the pteaons ■mratcs spoid
On him, diat woiud modi tadier hang diai
No, wretdi, eonliuues^l just ae dioii art,
Thon'rt now in thio last seene tfaatcnnma ikj pBt»
To purdiase fiivour veer with every gde.
And against interert never cease to lafl.
Though thoa*rt the only proof bow intemSaa picvilL
}
•«Ta]eof a Tub," first part **TammjFM^ utkmBjfOgtimhaUdftm
' see Bitson's •* Andent Songb"
THE
PREFACE.
The nation is in too high a ferment^ for me to ex-
pect either fair war, or even so much as fair quar«
ter, from a reader of the opposite party. All men
are engaged either on this side or that : and though
conscience is the common word which is given by
both, yet if a writer fall among enemies, and can-
not give the marks of their conscience, he is knock-
ed down before the reasons of his own are heard.
A preface, therefore, which is but a bespeaking of
favour, is altogether useless. What I desire the
reader should know concerning me, he will find in
the body of the poem, if he have but the patience
to peruse it. Oiuv this advertisement let him take
beK)re-hand, whidb rdates to the merits of the cause.
No general characters of parties (call them either
sects or churches) can be so rally and exactly drawn,
as to comprehend all the seveial members of them ;
at least all such as are received under that denomi-
nation. For example ; there are some of the church
by law established, who envy not liberty of con-
science to dissenters.; as being well satisfied that,
according to tiidr own principles, they ought not
to persecute them. Yet. these, by reason of their
fewness, I could not distinguish from the numbers
of the rest, with whom they are embodied in one
common name. On the other side, there are many
110 FEl&FACE TO
of our sects, and more indeed than I could reason-
ably have hoped, who have withdrawn themselva
from the communion of the Panther, and embraced
this gracious indulgence of his majesty in point of
toleration^ But neither to the one nor the other of
these is this satire any way intended : it is aimed
only at the refractory and disobedient on either side.
For those, who are come over to the royal party,
are consequently supposed to be out of gun-shot*
Our physicians have observed, that, in process of
time, some diseases have abated of their virulence,
and have in a manner worn out their malignity, so
as to be no longer mortal ; and why may not I sup-
pose the same concerning some of those, who have
* The tumultuary joy of the sectaries, upon their first view of
this triumph over the church of Englandt led them into all the ex-
travagances of loyalty^ which used to be practised by their an-
cient enemies the Tories. Addresses teeming with allection, an4
foaming with bombast, were poured in upon King James from all
^wmers of his dominions ; Presbyterians^ Anabaptists, Quakers,
sectaries of all sorts and persuasions, strove to be foremost in the
race of gratitude. And when similar addresses came in from cor-
porations, who had been formerly anxious to shew their loyidty on
the subject of the Rye-house plot, the king's accession, and other
occasions of triumph to the Tories, the tone of these bodies also
was wonderfully changed ; and, instead of raving against excluders,
rebelsy regicides, republicans, and fanatics, whose hellish contri-
vances endeavoured to destroy the safety of the kingdom, and the
life of the king, these same gentlemen mention the aeotaries as
^heir brethren and fellow-subjects, to whom the king, their com?
inon father, had been justly, liberally, royally, pleased to grant
freedom of conscience, for which the addressers offer their hearty
and unfeigned thanks. These were the two classes of persons,
^hom Dryden, as they had closed with the measures of govem-
ynent, declares to be exempted from his satire. Those, there?
fore» against whom it is avowedlv directed, are first, the Church
of En^and, whose adherents saw her destructionaimedat through
^e pretence of toleration. 2dly, Those sectaries who distrusted
^e boon iiFfaich the king presented, and feared th§t tbs fonser
THE HIND ANP THE PANTHEE. Ill
formeiy been enemies to kingly government, as
vdl as Catholic religion ? I hope they have now
another notion of both, as having found, by com«r
fortable experience, that the doctrine of persecu^
tion is far from being an article of our faith *
It is not for any private man to censure the pror
ceedings of a foreign prince :f but, without suspicion
of flattery, I ipay praise our own, who has taken
contrary measures, and those more suitable to the
spirit of Christianity. Some of the dissenters, in
taeir addresses to his majesty, have said, '^ That he
quenoes of this iimnedi«te indulgence at the hands of an anqient
enemy^ would be purchased by future persecution. I'bese formed
a body^ small at nrst^ but whose numbers daily increased.
Among the numerous addresses which were presented to the
court on this occasion, there are two somewhat remarkable from
the quality and condition of the persons in whose name they are
offered* The one is from the persons engaged in the schemes of
Shaftesbury and Monmouth^ and who set out by acknowledging
their lives and fortunes forfeited to King James ; a singular in->
stance of convicts offering their sentiments upon state affairs.
The other is from no less a corporation than the company of Lon-
don Cooks> which rei^^ectable persons declare their approbation
of the indulgence^ upon a principle recognized in their profession,
f the difference ofmen's 0usto, in religion^ as in eatables ;" and as-
sure his majesty, that his declaration ** somewhat resembles th^
Almighty's manna, which suited every man's palate."— //iw/ory of
Addresses, pp. IO69 l^^*
* Most readers will^ I thinks acknowledge with me, the extreme
awkwardness with which Dryden apologizes, for hoping well of
those sectaries, against whom he had so often discharged the ut-
most severity of his pen. Yet there is much real truth in the ob-
servation, thouffh th^ compliment to the new allies of the Catho-
lics is but a cold one. Many sects have distinguished themselves
liyfaction,fanaticism,and furious excess at their rise, which, when
their spirits have ceased to be agitated by novelty, and exaspera-
ted by persecution, have subsided into ^uiet orderly classes of citi-
zens, only remarkable for some peculiarities of speculative doc-
trine.
t Alluding to the persecution of the Huguenots in France af-
fer the recal of the E^qjt of Nantes.
list PREFACE TO
has restored God to his empire over conscience."*
I confess, I dare not stretch the figure to so great
a boldness : but I may safely say, that conscience
is the royalty and prerogative of every private man.
He is absolute in his own breast, and accountaUe
to no earthly power for that which passes only be-
twixt God and him. Those who are driven into
the fold are, generally speaking, rather made hypo-
crites than converts.
This indulgence being granted to all the sects,
it ought in reason to be expected, that they should
both receive it, and receive it thankfully. For, at
this time of day to refuse the benefit, and adhere
to those whom they have esteemed their persecu-
tors, what is it else but publicly to own, tnat they
suffered not before for conscience-sake, but only out
of pride and obstinacy, to separate from a church
for those impositions, which they now judge may
be lawfully obeyed ? After they have so long con-
tended for their classical ordination (not to speak of
rites and ceremonies) will they at length submit to
an episcopal ? If they can go so far, out of com-
plaisance to their old enemies, methinks a little rea-
son should persuade them to take another step and
see whither that will lead them.f
* This phrase occurs in the address of the Ministers of the Gros-
^nbI in and about the city of London, commonly called Presbyte-
rians : ** Your majesty's princely wisdom," say these reverend
sycophants, ** now rescues us from our long sufferings^ and by die
same royal act restores God to the empire over consdence." This
it is to be too eloquent ; when people set no bounds to their rhe-
toric, it betrays uiem often into nonsense, and not seldcnn into
blasphemy. — History of Addresses, p. 107.
t A gentle insinuation, that if the sectaries could renounce
the ordination by presbyteries or classes, in favour of the diurch
of England, it would require but a step or two i^rtber to bring
them to a conformity with that of RomCr
THE HIND AN1> THE PANTHER. 113
Of the receiving this toleration thankfully, I shall
say np more, than that they ought, and I doubt not
they will consider from what hand they received it.
It is not from a Cyrus, a heathen prince^ and a fo«
reigner^^ but from a Christian king, their native so-
vereign ; who expects a return in specie from them,
that the kindness, which he has graciously shewn
them^ may be retaliated on those of his own per-
suasion.
. As for the poem in general, I will only thus far
satisfy the reader, that it was neither imposed on
me, nor so much as the. subject given me by any
man. It was written during the last winter, and
the beginning of this spring ; though with long
interruptions of ill health and other hindrances.
About a fortnight before I had finished it, his Ma-
jesty's Declaration for liberty of conscience came
abroad ; which, if I had so soon expected, I might
have spared myself the labour of writing naany
things which are contained in the third part of it.
But I was always in some hope, that the Church of
England might have been persuaded to have taken
off the pen^ laws and the test, which was one de-
sign of the Poem, when I proposed to myself the
writing of it.
It is evident that some part of it was only occa-
sional, and not first intended : I mean that defence
of myself, to which every honest man is bound,
when he is injuriously attacked in print ; and I re-
fer myself to the judgment of those^ who have read
the answer to the Defence of the late King's Papers,
and that of the Duchess, (in which last I was con-
* Who freed the Jews from their bondage, and gavq them per-
mission to rebuild their city and temple.— See the Book ofEsdras.
VOL. X. H
114 PREFACE TO
cerned,) how charitably I have been represented
there.* I aim now informed both of the author and
supervisors of this pamphlet, and will reply, when
I think he can affront me : for I am of Socrates's
opinion, that all creatures cannot. In the mean
time let him consider whether he deserved not a
more severe reprehension than I gave him former-
ly, for using so little respect to the memory of those,
whom he pretended to answer ; and, at his leisure,
look out for some original treatise of humility, writ-
ten by any Protestant in English ; (I believe I may
say in any other tongue:) for the magnified piece
of Duncombe on that subject, which either he must
mean, or none, and with which another of his fel-
lows has upbraided me, was translated from the
Spanish of Rodriguez ; though with the omission
of the seventeenth, the twenty-fourth, the twenty-
fifth, and the last chapter, which will be found in
comparing of the books, f
* In his ardoiir for extending the Catholic religion^ James IL
had directed copies of the papers found in his brother's stxoDg^
box in favour of that communion^ with the copy of a paper by
his first duchess, giving her the reasons of her conversion to that
faith^ to be printed^ and circulated through the kingdom. These
papers were answered by the learned StiUingfleet, wen Dean of
St Paul's. A Defence of the Papers was published by '' com<-
mand," of which it appears, from the passage in the text^ that our
author wrote the third part^ which applies to the Duchess of
York's paper. Stillingfleet published a vindication of his answer^
in which he attacks our author with some severity. A fail ac«
count of the controversy will be found attached to Dryden's part
of the Defence, among his prose works.
f In the controversy between Dryden and Stillingfleet, the
former had concluded his Defence of the Duchess of York's pa-
per, by alleging, that " among all the volumes of divinity writ-
ten by the Protestants, there is not one original treatise^ at least
that 1 haveseen or heard of, which has handled distinctly^ and by
itself, the Christian virtue of humility." This Stillingfleet^ in his
reply^ calls a " bare-faced assertion of a thing known to be ^se ;"
THE HIN1> AND THE PANTHER. 115
' He would have insinuatpd to the world, that her
late Highness died not a Roman Catholic. He de-
dares himself to be now satisfied to the contrary,
in which he has given up the cause : for matter of
fact was the principal debate betwixt us. In the
mean time, he would dispute the motives of her
change ; how preposterously, let all men judge,
wheri he seemed to deny the sul^ect of the contro-
versy, the change itsejf.* And because I would
for, *^ within a few years, besides what has been printed former-
ly^ ^scich a book hath been published in London.'' Dryden^ in the
text^ replies to this allegation, that Duncombe's treatise, which
he supposes, to be m^ant, is a translation from the Spanish of Ra>
driguez, therefore, not originally a Protestant work. Montague,
in the preface to " The Hind and Panther Triahsversed," al-
leges, tnat Dryden has mistaken the name of the author of the
treatise alluded to ; which was not, he asserts, Duncombe, but
Allen. See the matter more fully canvassed in a note on the ori-
ginal passage, in " The Duchess of York's Paper Defended."
* Dryden is not quite candid in his statement* In Stilling-
fleet's Answer to the Duchess's paper, it is indeed called, the ^'pa-
per 8a\d to be written by a great lady ;" but there is not another
word upon the autbority, which, indeed, considering it was pub-
lished under the king's immediate inspection, could not be very
decorously disputed. Dryden seizes upon this phrase in his De-
fence, and, coupling wiui it some expressions of the Bishop of
Winchester, he argues that it was the intention of thede sons of
the Church of England, to give the lie to their sovereign. In
this vindication of the Answer, Stillingfleet thus expresses him-
self: ** As to the main design of the third paper* I declared, that
I considered it, as it was supposed to contam the reasons and mo-
tives of the conversion of so great a lady to the Church of Rome.
** But this gentleman has now eased me of the necessity of
farther considering it on that account For he declares, that none
of those motives or reasons are to be found in the paper of her
highness. Which he repeats several times* ' She writ this paper,
not as to the reasons she had herself for changing,' &c. ' As for
her reasons* they were only betwixt God and her own soul, and
the priest with whom she spoke at last.'
'' And so my work is at an end as to her paper, For I never
116 PREFACE TO
not take up this ridiculous challenge, he tells the
worll I cannot argue : but he may as well infer,
that a Catholic cannot fast, because he will not take
up the cudgels against Mrs James,* to confute the
Protestant religion.
intended to ransack the private papers or secret narratives of
great persons ; and I do not in the least question the relation now
given fi*om so great authority, as' that he menticms of the. pas«
sages concerning her ; and therefore I have nothing more to say
as to what relates to die person of the duchess."
It is obvious that Dryden^ probably finding the divine too
hard fen: him on the controversial part of the subject^ affects to
consider the dispute as entirely limited to the authenticity of the
paper, which it cannot be supposed Stillingfleet ever seriously
intended to impeach.
* Eleanor James, a lady who was at this period pleased to
stand up as a champion for the test, against the repeal wlucfa
James had so deeply at heart. This female theologian is men-*
tioned in the ^' Remarks from the country, upon the two Letters,
relating to the convocation and alterations in the liturgy." ** It
is a thousand pities so instructive and so eloquent papers should
ever fall under such an imputation, (of being too forward, and
solemn impertinence,) and be ranked amongst the scribblings of
Eleanor James, with this only advantage of having better Ian*
guage, whereas the woman counsellor is judged to have the
better meaning." Although Mrs James's lucubrations were thus
vilipended by the male disputants, one of her own sex thought
it necessary to enter the lists in opposition to her. See Elizabeth
Rone's short Answer to Eleanor James's Long Preamble, or Vindi^
cation of the New Test :
The book called Mittresf Jameses Vindication,
Does seem to me but her great indignation ;
Against the Romans and dissenters too.
She for the Church of England makes adoe ;
Calling her Christ's spouse, but she's mistaken,
Christ's spouse is she that is by her forsaken.
Mrs James's work was entitled, "A Vindication of the Church
of England, in answer to a pamphlet, entitled, a New Test of the
Church of England's Loyalty." She was herself the wife of a
printer, who left many books to the library of Sion College. Mrs
James's picture is preserved in the library, in the full dress of a
citizen's wife of that period. She survived her husband many
years, and carried on Uie printing business on her own account.
— Malone, Vol. III. p. 539.
1
THE HIND AND THE PANTHEE. 117
I have but one word more to say concerning the
poem as such, and abstracting from the matters,
either religious or civil, which are handled in it.
The First Part, consisting most in general charac-
ters and narration, I have endeavoured to raijie,
and give it the majestic turn of heroic poesy. The
Second, being matter of dispute, and chiefly con-
cerning church authority, I was obliged to make as
plain and perspicuous as possibly I could ; yet not
wholly neglecting the numbers, though I had not
frequent occasions for the magnificence of verse.
The Third, which has more of the nature of do-
mestic conversation, is, or ought to be, more free
and familiar than the two former.
There are in it two episodes, or fables, which are
interwoven with the main design ; so that they are
properly parts of it, though they are also distinct
stories of themselves. In both of these I have made
use of the common-places of satire, whether true or
false, which are urged by the members of the one
church against the other ; at which I hope no read-
er of either party will be scandalized, because they
are not of my invention, but as old, to my know-
ledge, as the times of Boccace and Chaucer on the
one side, ' and as those of the Reformation on the
other.
THE
HIND AND THE PANTHER
A milk-white Hind,* immortal and unchanged^
Fed on the lawns, and in the forest tanged ;
Without unspotted, innocent within.
She fear'd no danger, for she knew no sin.
Yet had she oft been chased with horns and hounds,
And Scythian shafts ; and many winged wounds
Aim'd at her heart ; was often forced to fly.
And doom'd to death, though fated not to die.f
Not so her young ; for their unequal line
Was hero's make, half human, half divine.
Their earthly mould obnoxious was to fate.
The immortal part assumed immortal state.
Of these a slaughter'd army lay in blood,:};
Extended o'er the Caledonian wood.
* The. Roman Catholic Church.
t Note I.
X The Roman Catholic priests executed in England^ at dif-
ferent times since the Reformation^ and regarded as martyrs and
saints by those of their communion.
120 THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
Their native walk ; whose vocal blood arose^
And cried for pardon on their peijur'd foes.
Their fate was fruitful, and the sanguine seed.
Endued with souls, increased the sacred breed.
So captive Israel multiplied in chains,
A numerous exile, and enjoy'd her pains.
With grief and gladness mix'd, the mother view'd
Her martyr'd offipring, and their race renew'd ;
Their corps to perish, but their kind to last.
So much the deathless plant the dying fhiit sur-
passed.
Panting and pensive now she ranged alone.
And wander'd in the kingdoms, once her own.
The common hunt, though from their rage re-
strained
By sovereign power, her company disdain'd,
Grinn'd as they pass'd, and with a glaring eye
Gave gloomy signs of secret enmity.
'Tis true, she bounded by, and tripped so light.
They had not time to take a steady sight ;
For truth has such a face and such a mien.
As to be lov'd needs only to be seen.
The bloody Bear, an independent btost,
Unlick'd to form, in groans her hate expressed.*
Among the timorous kind, the quaking Hare
Profess'd neutrality, but would not swear.f
Next her the buffoon Ape, as atheists use.
Mimicked all sects, and had his own to chuse ;
Still when the Lion look'd, his knees he bent.
And paid at church a courtier's compliment.:|:
The bristled baptist Boar, impure as he, J
But whiten'd with the foam of sanctity.
* The Independants, See Note II.
t The Quakers. See Note III.
X Free-Thinkers. See Note IV.
§ Anabaptists. See Note V,
THE HIND AND THE TANTHER. 121
With fat pollutions fill*d the sacred place.
And mountains levelled in his furious race ;
So first rebellion founded was in grace.
But since the mighty ravage, which he made
In German forest, had his guilt betrayed.
With broken tusks, and with a borrowed name.
He shunn'd thevengeance,and concealed the shame;
So lurk'd in sects unseen. With greater guile
False Reynard fed on consecrated spoil ;♦
The graceless beast by Athanasius first
Was chased firom Nice, then by Socinus nursed ;
His impious race their blasphemy renew'd.
And Nature's King through Nature's optics view*d.
Revers'd, they view'd him lessened to their eye.
Nor in an infant could a God descry.
New swarming sects to this obliquely tend.
Hence they began, and here they all will end.
What weight of ancient witness can prevail,
If private reasons hold the public scale ?
But, gracious God, how well dost thou provide
For erring judgments «n unerring guide !
Thy throne is darkness in the abyss of light,
A blaze of glory that forbids the sight.
O, teach me to believe thee, thus conceal'd,
And search no farther than thyself reveal*d ;
But her alone for my director take.
Whom thou hast promised never to forsake !
My thoughtless youth was wing'd with vain desires ;
My manhood, long misled by wandering fires.
Followed false lights ; and, when their glimpse was
gone.
My pride struck out new sparkles of her own.
Such was I, such by nature still I am ;
Be thine the glory, arid be mine the shame !
* Unitarians. See Note VI.
122 THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
Good life be now my task ; my doubts are done ;*
What more could fright my faith, than three in one?
Can I believe eternal God could lie
Disguised in mortal mould, and infancy ?
That the great Maker of the world could die
And after that trust my imperfect sense.
Which calls in question his omnipotence ?
Can I my reason to my faith compel.
And shall my sight, and touch, and taste rebel ?
Superior faculties are set aside ; ,
Shall their subservient organs be my guide >
Then let the moon usurp the rule of day.
And winking tapers shew the sun his way ;
For what my senses can themselves perceive,
I need no revelation to believe.
Can they, who say the host should be descried
By sense, define a body glorified ?
Impassible, and penetrating parts ?
Let them declare by what mysterious arts
He shot that body through the opposing might, ^
Of bolts and bars impervious to the light, >
And stood before his train confess'd in open sightf )
For since thus woifidrously he pass'd, 'jtis plain.
One single place t^o bodies did contain ;
And sure the same Omnipotence as well
Can make one body in more places dwell.
Let reason then at her own quarry fly.
But how can finite grasp infinity ?
'Tis urged again, that faith did first commence
By miracles, which are appeals to sense.
And thence concluded, tnat our sense must be
The motive still of credibility ;
* See Introductory Remarks,
t Note VII.
TBS HDID AND THE PAXTBCES. 183
Far lattar ages most on former wwit.
And what b^an bdieC musfc propagate.
But winiK>w wefl this tlioiiglit, and joo sUU find
Tis light as chaff that ffies be&re the wind.
Were all those wondos wioo^it bj power Avine,
As means or ends of some move deep dea^ ?
Most sure as means, whose end was this alone;
To prove the Godhead of the Elenial Son.
God thus asserted, man is to bdiere
Beyond what sense and reason can c o nc eiie ;
And, for mysterkms thmgs of finth» rtij
On the propcment, heaven's aothontj.
If, then, our fiuth we for oar gmde admit.
Vain is the £irther search of human wit ;
As when the building gains a smer stsnr.
We take the unusefbl sfaflBiiding awav.
Reason by saase no more can midentand :
The game is play'd into another hand.
Why chuse we then, like bikmder^^ to oseep
Along the coast, and land in view to keep.
When safdy we may launch into the de^?
In the same vessd, which oar Sarioor bote.
Himself the {Mlot, let us leave the dboicv
And with a better guide a better wodd csqp&oie.
Could he his Godhead veil with fledt and blood,'
And not veil these ^^ain to be oar fiiod?
His grace in both is equal in extent.
The first affords us^lifi^ the second n omishni cnt
And if he can, why all this fiantic pain.
To construe what his dearest wotw ^'m \7t H \^
And make a riddle wiiat he made «> ^ain ?
To take up half on trust, and half to try.
Name it not &ith, but bon^^g bigotry ;
* Qbuui By-land-cr, an old woid taa m txMrt, ittcd m coMt na«-
vigaticm.
124 THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
Both knave and fool the merchant we may caU,^
To pay great sums, and to compound the small ; I
For who would break withheaven, and would not f
break for all ?
Rest then, my soul, from endless anguish freed ;
Nor sciences thy guide, nor sense thy creed.
Faith is the best ensurer of thy bliss ;
The bank above must fidl, before the venture miss.
But heaven and heaven-born faith are far from
thee.
Thou first apostate to divinity !
Unkennell'd range in thy Folonian plains ;
A fiercer foe the insatiate Wolf remains.
Too boastful Britain, please thyself no more.
That beasts of prey are banished from thy shore ;
The Bear, the Boar, and every savage name.
Wild in effect, though in appearance tame^
Lay waste thy woods, destroy thy bliss&l bower,
And, muzzled though they seem, the mutes devour.
More haughty than the rest, the wolfish race
Appears with belly gaunt, and famish'd face
Never was so deform'd a beast of grace.
His ragged tail betwixt his tail he wears.
Close dapp'd for shame ; but his rough crest he
rears.
And pricks up his predestinating ears.*
His wild disordered walk, his hagard eyes.
Did all the bestial citizens surprise.
Though fear'd and hated, yet ne ruled a wh le.
As captain or companion of the spml.
f'ull many a year his hateful head had been
For tribute paid, nor since in Cambria seen ;
The last of ail the litter 'scaped by chance.
And from Geneva first infested France.
Note VIII.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHEK. 123
Some authors thus bis pedigree will trace.
But others write him of an upstart race ;
Because of Wickliffe's brood no mark he bruigs.
But his innate antipathy to kings.
These last deduce him from the Helvetian kind.
Who near the Leman-lake his consort lined ;
That fiery Zuinglius first the affection bred.
And meagre Calvin blest the nuptial bed.
In Israel some believe him whelp'd long since.
When the proud sanhedrim oppress'd the prince ;
Or, since he will be Jew, derive him higher.
When Corah ynth his brethren did conspire
From Moses' hand the sovereign sway to wrest.
And Aaron of his ephod to divest ;
Till opening earth made way for all to pass.
And could not bear the burden of a class.*
The Fox and he came shuffied in the dark.
If ever they were stow'd in Noah's ark ;
Perhaps not made ; for all their barking train
The dog (a common species) will contain ;
And some wild curs, who firom their masters ran.
Abhorring the supremacy of man.
In woods and caves the rebel-race began.
O happy pair, how well you have increased !
What ills in diurch and state have you redress'd !
With teeth, untried, and rudiments of daws.
Your first essay was on your native laws ;
Those having torn with ease, and trampled down.
Your fangs you fasten'd on the mitrea crown.
And freed from God and monarchy your town.
What though your native kennel still be small.
Bounded betwixt a puddle and a wall ;t
* Alluding to the classical ordination^ which the Presbyterian
church has adopted, instead of that by Bishops.
t Geneva, the cradle of Calvinism. The territories of the lit-
tle republic, dum Trqfajuk, were bounded by its ramparts and
lake.
126 THE HIND AND THE PANTHBtt.
Yet your victorious colonies are sent
Where the north ocean girds the continent.
Quidcen'd with fire below, your monsters l»reed
In fenny Holland, and in fruitful Tweed ;
And, like the first, the last affects to be
Drawn to the dregs of a democracy.
As, where in fields the fairy rounds are seen,
A rank sour herbage rises on the green ;
So, springing where those midnight elves advance,
Rebellion prints the footsteps of the dance.
Such are their doctrines, such contempt they ^ow
To heaven above, and to their prince below.
As none but traitors and blasphemers know.
God, like the tyrant of the skies, is placed.
And kings, like slaves, beneath the crowd debased
So fulsome is their food, that flocks refuse
To bite, and only dogs for physic use.
As, where the lightning runs along the ground.
No husbandry can heal the blasting wound ;
Nor bladed grass, nor bearded corn succeeds.
But scales of scurf and putrefaction breeds ;
Such wars, such waste, such fiery tracks of dearth
Their zeal has left, and such a teemless earth.
But, as the poisons of the deadliest kind
Are to their own unhappy coasts confined ;
As oiily Indian shades of sight deprive, '
And magic plants will but in Golchos thrive ;
So presbytery and pestilential zeal
Can only flourish in a commonweal.
From Celtic woods is chased the wolfish crew ;*
But ah ! some pity e'en to brutes is due ;
Their native walks, methitiks, they might enjoy,
Curb'd of their native malice to destroy.
* Alluding to the recal of the Edict of Nantz, and persecu*
tion of the Huguenots. See Note IX.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 127
Of all the tyrannies on human-kind,
The worst is that which persecutes the mind.
Let us but weigh at what offence we strike ;
'Tis but because we cannot think alike.
In punishing of this, we overthrow
The laws of nations and of nature too.
Beasts are the subjects of tyrannic sway,
Where still the stronger on the weaker prey ;
Man only of a softer mould is made.
Not for his fellows' ruin, but their aid ;
Created kind, beneficent and free,
The noble image of the Deity.
One portion of informing fire was given
To brutes, the inferior family of heaven.
The smith divine, as with a careless beat.
Struck out the mute creation at a heat ;
But, when arrived at last to human race.
The Godliead took a deep considering space ;
And, to distinguish man from all the rest.
Unlocked the sacred treasures of his breast.
And mercy mixt with reason did impart.
One to his head, the other to his heart ;
Reason to rule, but mercy to forgive ;
The first is law, the last prerogative.
And. like his mind his outward form appear'd.
When, issuing naked to the wondering herd, "]
He charm'd their eyes ; and, for they loved, they >•
fear'd. )
Not arm'd with horns of arbitrary might.
Or claws to seize their fiery spoils in fight.
Or with increase of feet to o'ertake them in their
flight;
Of easy shape, and pliant every way.
Confessing still the softness, of his clay.
And kind as kings upon their coronation day,
* Which is usually distinguished by an act of grace^ or general
pardon.
128 THE HIND AND THE PANTHES.
With open hands, and with extended space
Of arms, to satisfy a large embrace.
Thus kneaded up with milk, the new-made Man
His kingdom o'er his kindred world b^an ;
Till knowledge misapplied, misunderstood.
And pride of empire, sour'd his balmy blood.
Then, first rebelling, his own stamp he coins ;
The murderer Cain was latent in his loins ;
And blood began its first and loudest cry^
For differing worship of the Deity.
Thus persecution rose, and farther space
Produced the Mighty Hunter* of his liace.
Not so the blessed Panf his flock increased.
Content to fold them fi-om the famish'd beast :
Mild were his laws ; the sheep and harmless hind
Were never of the persecuting kind.
Such pity now the pious pastor shows.
Such mercy fi-om the British Lion .flows,J
That both provide protection from their foes.
Oh, happy regions, Italy and Spain,
Which never did those monsters entertain !
The Wolf, the Bear, the Boar, can there advance
No native claim of just inheritance ; .
And self-preserving laws, severe in show.
May guard their fences from the invading foe.
Where birth has placed them, let them safely share
The common benefit of vital air ;
Themselves unharmful, let them live unharm'd.
Their jaws disabled, and their claws disarm'd;
Here, only in nocturnal bowlings bold.
They dare not seize the Hind, nor leap the fcdd.
* Nimrod.
t Jesus Christ
X King James II.
TJUl BIND AKD.THE PAKTHBR. 1S9
More poirerfoly and as vigilant as they, »
The luBQin awfully fcurbsds die prey.
Their rage rqmsfi'd, though pindi'd with &mine
They stand aloo^ and tremble at his roar ;
Much is. their hunger, but their fear is more.
These are the dim; to number o'er the rest,
And stand, Uke Adam, naming every beast,
Were weary wcnrk; nor will the muse describe
A slimy^-bcmi and sun-begotten tribe ;
Who, fiir from steeples and their sacred sound,
*In fields their sullen conventicles found.^
These gross, half-animated, lumps I leave ;
Nor can } think what thoughts they can conceive
But if they think at all, 'tis sure no higher
Than matter, put in motion, may aspire ;
Souls that can scarce ferment their mass of day ;\
So drossy, so divisible are they, v
As would but serve pure bodies for allay ; }
Such souls as shards produce, such beetle things
As only buz to heaven with evenmg wings ;
Strike in the dark, offimding but by diance.
Such are the Uindfold blows of ^orance.
They know not beings, and but hate a name ;
To mem the Hind and Panther are the same.
^ The Panther, sure the noblest, next the Hind,
And fiureat creature of tibe spotted kind ;
Oh, could her in-born stains be wash'd away.
She were too good to be a beast of prey !
How can I fHraise, or blame, and not oSend,
Or how divide the frailty fmta the friend ?
Her &ult8 and virtues lie so mix'd, that site
Nor wholly stands condemn'd, nor wholly free.
rfk
\NoteX-
VOL. X. ^ I
130 THK HIND AND THE FANTHEE^.
Then, like her injured Lion, let roe speak ;
He cannot bend ner, and he would not break.
Unkind already, and estranged in part.
The Wolf begins to share her wandering heart.
Though impolluted jet with actual ill.
She half commits who sins but in her wall.^
If, as our dreaming Platonists report, . j
There could be spirits of a middle sort.
Too black for heaven, and yet too white for hell,
Who just dropt half-way down, ncH^lower ;feU i^
So poised, so gently she descends from hi^, . .
It seems a soft dismission from the sky.
Her house not ancient, whatsoe'er pret^ioe
Her clergy-heralds mske in her d^ence ;
A second century not half-way run.
Since the new honours of her blood begun.
A lion, old, obscene, and furioua made i '
By lust, compress'd her mother in a shade ;
Then, by a left-hand marriage, weds the dame.
Covering adultery with a specious name ;f
So schism begot ; and sacrilege and she,
A well matched pair, got graceless heresy.
God's and kings' rebels have the same good caus^
To trample down divine and human laws ;
* Our author recollected his own Philadel in *' King Arthur:'
Ao airy shape, the tenderest of my kind,
The last seduoed and least deformed of hdl ; ' '
Half-white, and shuffled in the crowd 1 feU, ; i
Desirous to repent and loath to sin,
Awkward in mischief, piteous of mankind ;
My name is Philidd, my lot in air,
Where, next beneath the moon, and nearest heaven,
I soar, I have a glimpse to be received.
Vol. Vill. p. 135.
t Henry the Eighth's passion for Anna BuUen led the way
to the Reformation.
TH£ HIND AND THE PANTHER. 181
Both would be call'd reformers, and their hate
Alike destructive botii to church and state.
The i&iiit proclaims the plant ; a lawless prince '
By luxury reform'd incontinence ;
By ruins, <charity ; by riots, abstinence.
Confessions^ fasts, and penance set aside,
Oh, with what ease we follow such a guide.
Where souls are starved, and senses gratified !
Where marriage pleasures midnight prayer supply, ^
And matin b^, a melancholy cry, f
Are tuned to merrier notes. Increase and Multi* %
ply.* ^
Rdigion shews a rosy-colour'd face ; If
Not nattered f out with drudging works of grace ; r
A down-hill reformation rolls apace. y
What flesh and blood would crowd the narrow gate, 1
Or, till they waste their pamper'd paunches, wait? i
All would be happy at the cheapest rate. ^
Though our lean faith these rigid laws has given.
The full-fed Musselman goes fet to heaven ;
For his Arabian prophet with delights
Of sense allured his eastern proselytes.
The jolly Luther, reading him, began
To interpret Scriptures by his Alcoran ;
To grub the thorns beneath our tender feet,
And make the paths of paradise more sweet,
Bethought him of a wife, ere half way gone.
For 'twas uneasy travelling alone ;
And, in this masquerade of mirth and love.
Mistook the bliss of heaven for Bacchanals above.
Sure he presumed of praise, who came to stock
The etherial pastures with so fair a flock.
* The marriage of the dergy^ licensed by the ReformatioD.
t Worn out, x)r become hard.
ISS THE HIND AND THE FAKTHKIL
Bumisb'dy and battening on their food, to show
Their diligence of careful herds below.*
Our Panther, though like these sfie ehanged her
head,
Yet, as the mistress of a monardi's bed,f
Her front erect with maiesty she bore.
The crosier wielded, and the mitre wore.
Her upper part of decent discipline
Shew'd affectation of an ancient line ;
And fathers, councils, church and churches head,
Were on her rev'rend phylacteries ^ read.
But what disgraced and disavow'd the rest^
Was Calvin's brand, that stigmatized the' beast
Thus, like a creature of a double kind.
In her own labyrinth she lives confined ;
To foreign lands no sound of her is come.
Humbly content to be despised at home.
Such is her &ith, where good cannot be had, '
At least she leaves the refuse of the bad :
Nice in her choice of ill, though not of best.
And least deform'd, because reformed the least*
In doubtful points betwixt her differing friends.
Where one for substance, one for sign contends.
* A Popish advocate^ in the contxoversy with Teimiaon, tells
us exultingly^ ** That Martin Luther himself^ Dr 'Fa ezc^ent
instrument^ after he had eat a feasting supper^ and drank Itdher*
aniciy as the German proverb has it, wai called into ano&er
world at two o'clock in uie night, February 18, 154&" This was
one of the reasons why his adversaries alleged, that Martin Lu-
ther set sail for hell in the manner described by Sterne, in bis
tale from Slawkenbergius.
f The king being owned the head of the Church of England,
contrary to the doctrine of the other reformed churches.
J Phylacteries are little scrolls of parchment worn by the Jews
on their foreheads and wrists, inscribed with senteni^es from the
law. They are supposed, as is expressed by the phrase in the
original, to have the virtue of preserving the wearer from danger
and evil.
TBS HIND AND THE PANTHER. 188
Hieir contradicting terms fihe strives to join ;^
Sign shall be sabstance^ substance shall be sign,
A real presence all her sons allow» "%
And yet 'tis flat idolatry to bow» L
Because the god Jiead's tibere they know not how. )
Her novices are taught, that bread and wine
Are but the visible and outward sign,
Beceived by those who in communion join ;
But the inward grace, or the thing signified.
His blood and body, who to save us died,f
The faithful this thing signified receive.
What is't those faithful then partake or leave ?
For, what is signified and understood.
Is, by her own confession, flesh and blood.
Then, by the same acknowledgment, we know
They take the sign, and take the substance too.
The literal sense is hard to flesh and blood.
But nonsense never can be understood.
Her wild belief on every wave is tost ;
But sure no church can better morals hoaat.
True to her king her principles are found ;
Oh that her practice were but half so sound l^
Sted&st in various turns of state she stood.
And seal'd her vow'd affectioD with her blood :§
* The Latlieraiis adopt the doctnne of coDsnbi^^ tbat
MB to mjf ihey bdieve, Aat, dKmgh the dements «e not duinged
into tbe bod^ and blood of Chrut by eonieeratioa, wbicb k the
Roman &idi» jet the partkipanta, at tbe m oment of to mnmni '
catiog^ do actnalljreoeiTe the real bodjr and blood. TbeCalrm-
lata atteri J deny the feal presence m the eoAm^ mod sMrm,
that the trvxda of CIttiat were onlj a jrmboBcaL The ciiufdi of
England annooneea a doeuine aonewiiat betwem these. 8ee
Note XL
t Note XL
t Note XtL
§ Anoding to Uie fide of the chauacb and mo mr thv of Eo^<
land, wfaidi fidl togedier in the grvat rebeUmc See Note XL
134 THE HIKD AXD TffE PAXTHBS.
Nor win I meanly tax her constancy.
That interest or oUmement made tibe tye^
Bound to the fate ofmrnnder^d monarchy.
Before the sounding axe so fidk the vkie^
Whose tender brandies round the pojfdar
She chose her ruin, and resign'd her hSs,
tn death undaunted as an Indian wife :
A rare example ! but some souls we see
Grow hard, and stiffen with advi^raty.
Yet these by fortune's &vours are undone ; .
Resolved,* into a baser form they run.
And bore the wind, but cannot bear die smi.
Let this be nature's fhdlty, or her fete^
Or Isgrim's counsel, her new-chosen mate,t
Still she's the fairest of the &llen crew ;.
No mother more indulgent, but the true.
Fierce to her foes, yet fears her force to try.
Because she wants innate authority ;
For how can she constrain them to obey.
Who has herself cast off the lawAil sway ?
Rebellion equals all, and those, who tou
In common theft, will share the common spoil.
Let her produce the title and the right,.
Against her old superiors first to fi^t ;
If she reform by text, even that's as plain
For her own rebels to reform again.
As long as words a different sense will bear.
And each may be his own interpreter.
Our airy faith will no foundation find.
The word's a weathercock for every wind :
The Bear, the Fox, the Wolf, by turns prevail ;
The most in power supplies the present gale.
The wretched Panther cries aloud for aid
To church and councils, whom she first betray 'd ;
* Resdvedy i. e. dissolved.
t The Wolf, or Presbytery.— See Note XIIL
THE HIND AND THE PANTHEB. l^H
Ko help fiom fathers or tradition's traiii :
Those ancient guides she taught us to disdain.
And by that Scripture, which she once abused
To reformation, stands herself accused.*
What bills for breach of laws can she prefer,
[Expounding which she owns herself may err ?
^tid, after all her winding ways are tried.
If doubts arise, she slips herseU* aside.
And leaves the private conscience for the guide.
If, then, that conscience set the offender free.
It bars her claim to church authority.
How can she censure, or what crime pretend.
But Scripture may be construed to defend ?
Even those, whom for rebellion she transmits
To civil power, her doctrine first acquits ;
Because no disobedience can ensue.
Where no submission to a judge is due ;
!Each judging for himself by her consent.
Whom, thus absolved, she sends to punishment.
Suppose the magistrate revenge her cause,
'TIS only for transgressing human laws.
How answering to its end a church is made.
Whose power is but to counsel and persuade ?
O solid rock, on which secure she stands !
Eternal house, not built with mortal hands !
O sure defence against the infernal gate,
A Patent during pleasure of the state !
Thus is the Panther neither loved nor fear'd,
A mere mock queen of a divided herd ;
Whom soon by lawfid power she might controul.
Herself a part submitted to the whole.
Then, as tne moon who first receives the light
By which she makes our nether regions bright.
So might she shine, reflecting fix)m afar
The rays she borrowed fi-om a better star ;
♦ Note XIV.
1S6 THfi HIND AND THR PAKTRBK.
Big with the beams trhidi ftcm her motherflow/
And mgning o'er the rising tides bdoir :*
Now, mixing with a savage crowd, she jgbeB^
And meanly flatters her invet^^ate foes ;
Ruled while she rules, and losing every hour
Her wretched remnants of precarious power* .
i. One evening, while the cooler shade she aoughty
Revolving many a melancholy thought,
Alotie she walk'd, and look'd around in vain.
With rueful visage, for her vanished train :
None of her sylvan subjects made th^ court ;
Lev^ and conchies pass'd without resort.
So hardly can usurpers manage well
Those> whom they first instructed to rebel :
More liberty begets desire of more ;
The hunger still increases with the store.
Without l-espect, they brush'd along the wood^ \
Each in his clan, and, filVd with loathsome ibc^ >
Ask'd no permission to the neighbouring flood. /
The Panther, full of inward disoHitent,
Since they would go, before them wisely wient $
Supplying want of power by drinking first.
As if she gave them leave to quench th«r thirst
Amon^ the rest, the Hind, with fearful iaoe^
Beheld from far the common watering place*
Nor durst approach ; till with an awfol roar
The sovereign Lion bade her fear no more«f
Encouraged thus, she brought her younglinj^ l^b»
Watching the motions of her patron'b eye,
t . ifc« 4jiaifci— ai^,^
* That is, if the Church of England would be t«OMidled Id
Rome, she should be gratified with a delegated porttdil «f innate
authority over the rival sectaries ; instead of being obliged t»
depend upon the civil power for protection.
t Alluding to the exeifcise of uie dispensing poWer, lUid the
Declaration of Indulgence*
9
TBB Hf KD AND TH£ PANTH&R. 18T
And drank a sober draught ; the rest^ amazed,
Btood mutely still, and on the stranger gazed ;
Siirvey'd her part by part» and sought to find
The ten4iom'd monster in the harmless Hindi
Such as the Wolf and Panther had design'dL^
They thoaght at first they dream'd; for 'twas dSenee
With tfaem, to question certitude of sense.
Their guide in faith : but nearer when they drew, 1
And bid the faultless object full in view, >
Lord, how they all admired her heavenly hue ! }
Some, who, before, har fellowship disdain'd, Y
Scarce,andbutscarce,from in-born rage restrain'd, >-
l^ow fiisk'd about her, and old kindred feign'd* y
W hether for love or interest, every sect
Of all the savage nation shew'd respect.
The viceroy Panther could not awe the h»d ;
The more the company, the less they fear'd.
The surly Wolf with secret envy burst, ^
'Yetoouldnotkowl; (theHindhadseaihimfirst^)f L
3ut what he durst not speak, the Panther durst }
For when the herd^ sufficed, did late repair
To ferny heathis, and to their forest' lair.
She made a mannerly excuse to stay.
Proffering the Hind to wait her half the way ;
* The ten-horned monster^ in the Revelations^ was usually ex-
plained by the reformers as typical of the Church of Rome.
t There was a classical superstition, that, if a wolf saw a man
before he saw the wolf^ the person lost his voice :
iooxque Mterin
Jamfugit ipsa: lupi Mcerin videre prioret.
Dryden has adopted^ in the text^ the converse of this supersti-
tious oelief.
188
'TME HtKD AND THK TANTHHTR.
That, since the sky was dear, an hour of talk
Might help her to b^uile the tedious walk.
With much good-wiU the motion was embraced.
To chat a while on their adventures pass'd ;
Kor bad the grateful Hind so soon forgot
Her friend and fellow*sufierer in the plot*
Yet wondering how of late she grew estranged,
Her forehead doudy, and her countenance changed,
She thought this hour the occasion would present,
To learn her secret cause of discontent ;
Which well she hoped, might be witb^ ease re-'
dress'd, ' ^: .
Considering her a well-bred dvil beast.
And more a gentlewoman than the rest.
After some common talk what rumours ran.
The lady of the spotted muff began*
* Although the Roman Catholic plot was made the pretence
of persecuting the Papists in the first instance, yet the high-fly-
ing party of the Church of £ngland were also levelled at, and
accused of being Tantivies^ Papists in masquerade^ &c &c.
•.' t
r
I# . I
NOTES
«
*THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
PART I,
Note I.
And doom'dto death though fated not to die^^^V, 119*
• The critics fastened on this line with great exultation^ condu*
ding, that doomed and fitted meant precisely the same thing*
*' Faith, Mr Bayes/' sayv one of these gentlemen, ** if you were
doomed to be lumged, whatever vou were JiUed to 'twoidd give
you but small cmnf<nt." * This criticism is quite erroneous ;
doom, in its general acceptation, meaning merely a sentence of
ainrldnd ; the pronounang which by no means necessarily im«
pfaes its execution. In the criminal courts of Scotland, the sen-^
tenoe is always concluded with this formula, '* and this I pro*
nounoe for doom." Till of late years, a special officer recited the
sentence after the judge, and was thence called the doomtierff
an office now performed by the derk of court. The criticism
is founded on the word doom having been often, and even gene-
rally, used as synonimous to the sentence of heaven, and there^
fore inevitable. But in the text, it is obvious that the doom, or
* Hiad and Panther TniitTened.
t Thif oflfee WM usnallj hdd bv the executioner, who, to this extent, wa»
a plimlift ; and the change was chieflj made, to prevent the necessity of produ-
cing that penon in court, to the aggiayation of the criminaFs terrors.
140 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
sentence, of an earthly tribunal is placed in oppoaiticm (o the
decree of Providence.
Note II.
The Uoody Bear, an independent beasi,
UnUci^d to farms, S^.—Y. 120.
The sect of Independents arose to great eminence in the Cinl
Wars, when the enthusiastic spitits were deemed entitled to pre-
ferment upon earth, in proportion to the extravagance of tneir
religions zeal. Huine hiu admirably described their leading te-
nets, or rather the scorn with which they discarded the pnnci-
pies of other veligkniB sects ; for their peculiarities consisted mudi
more i|i their neglect and contempt of all forms, than in any lyiles
or dogttata of their own.
'' 'Die Independents rejected all ecclesiastical establiahmentii
and would admit of no spiritual courts — no government anumg
pastors— no interposition of the magistrate in religious concerns
— 410 fixed encouragement annexed to any system of doctrines or
opinions. According to their principles, each congregation, uni-
ted voluntarily and by spiritual ties, composed, within itself, a
separate church, and exercised a jurisdiction, but one destitute of
temporal sanctions, over its own pastor and its own monben.
Tlie election alone of the congregation was sufficient to bestow
the sacerdotal character ; and, as all essential distinction wiu de^
ni^ between tlie laity and the dergy, no eeiemonj, no iaititii^
tion, no Toeation, bo imposition of hands, was» as in ail otlMr
ehurches^ supposed teqmsite to convey a rig^ to holy 4takft.
TIm eu^usiasm of the Presbyterians led tbim to r^ot ths «•*
thority of prelatc6--^to throw off the restraint of iltUfgies^M^o re*
trendb cttemonie»o-to Hmit the riches and authority of the posit*
ly offieew* The fenaricirmi of tiie Independents, exahed to a lu|^
er pitch, abdiahed ecclesiastical gpyemment-^isdainad meds
and sjrstcms-^oegleoted every ceremony^^Huid confimnded wSi
raldoi and orders. The soldier, the merchant, the mechanic, in^
dvd^iag the llervours of seal, and guided by the illapaes <if the
spirit, lesigned himself te an inwiml and superior direetioB, and
was consemited, in a manna:, by an immecUate interooaMs and
conuuunioation with heaven."
Botkr tinus deacribes the Independents t
j/n6 iiidcpciidcniSf wnose first station
Was in the rear of reformation :
A mongrel kind of church dngeoost
That served fcr facnrae and foot at oiioe«
Attd in the saddle «f otM stMd,
The Saiacen aad Chnstian rid«
K0TB8 ON THE HIKD AND THE PANTHER. 141
, Were free of ev^ryqalzUual order*
To preeeh* and fight^ and prey, and moidert
It is well known^ that these sectaries obtained the fimd aacen-
dancy in the ciyil war9« Cromwell^ their chief* was highly gifted
aa a preacher as well as distinguidied as a warrior ; witness his
'^ leanied, devout^ and conscientious exemae, held at Sir Peter
Temple's, in Lincoln's Inn Fields, upon Boooans, xiii. 1/'
« ■
Note III.
Among the timorous kind, the quaking ffure
Professed neutrality, hut would not swear, — P. 1^0.
I
As Mr Hume's account of the rise of this sect (the Quakers) is
imcemmonly lively, I take the liberty to insert it at length;
though, perhaps, the passage does not call for so prolonged a
qiiotati<»i. Aner describing the ascetic solitude of George Fox,
uieir founder, he proceeds':
*< When he had been sufficiently consecrated, in hia own ima-
gination, he felt that the fumes of self*applause soon dissipate, if
not continually supplied by the admiration of others ; and he be»
gaa to seek proselytes. Proselytes were easily gained, at a time
when all men's affections were turned towards religion, and when
extravagant modes of it were sure to be most popular. All Ae
forms of ceronony, invented by pride and ostentation. Fox and
liis disciples, ^om a superior pride and ostentation, carefully re*
jected : Even the ordinary rites of civility were shunned, as the
nourishment of carnal vanity and self-conceit. They would be»
stow no titles of distinction i The name of friend was the only sa-
lutation with which they indiscriminately accosted every onew To
no person would they make a bow, or move their hat, or give any
signs of reverence. Instead of that affected adulation introduced
into modem tongues, of speaking to individuals as if they were a
mnltitude, they returned to the simplicity of ancient languages;
and than and thee were the only expressicms whidi, on any con«
sidetation, they would be brought to employ.
• ** Dress too» a material circumstance, distinguished the ntem*
bers of this sect. Every superfluity and <n*nament was carefully
letrenched : Noplaits to their coat, no buttons to their sleeves x
No lace, no ruffles, no embroidery. Even a button to the hat,
though sometimes useful, yet not being always so, was univer-
sally rejected by them with horror and detestation.
*' The violent enthusiasm of Uiis sect, like all high passions^
being too strong for the weak nerves to sustain, threw the preach-
ers into convulsions, and shakings, and distortions in their limbs ;
and they thence received the appellation of Quakers. Amidst
148 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
the gteat toleration whidi was then jpranted to all sects, and even
cnoonraffement given to all innovations, this sect alone suffered
Mrsecntion. From the fervour of their seal) the Qnakflrs hpdke
mto churches, disturbed public worship, and harassed die mi*
nister and audience with railing and reproadies. When camed
befinre a maffistratey they refused him all reverence, mad treated
him with the same fiuniliarity as if he had been Aeir ecnuL
Sometimes they were thrown into mad-houses, sometimes mto
prisons; sometimes whipped, sometimes pilloried. The patience
and fOTtitude with whidi thej suffered, b^^t oomraaaion, ad-
miration, esteem. A sujpematural ^irit was bdievea to support
them under those suffermgs, which the ordinary state of huma-
nity, fireed from the illusions of passion, is unable to sustain*
*' The Quakers creep'd into the army : But* as they preadied
universal peace, they seduced the military sealots firom tneir pro-
fession, and would soon, had they been sufieredy have put an end,
without any defeat or calamity, to the dominion or the saiiiti.
These attempts became a fresh ground for persecution, and a new
reason for tneir progress among the people.
" Morals, with tins sect, were camed, or affected to be carried,
to the same di^ree of extravagance as religion. Give ^ Qpaker
A Mow on one cheek, he held up the other : Ask his ddke, he
Sve you his coat also. The greatest interest could not engMR
SI in any court of judicature, to swear even to the truth. Us
never asked more for his wares than the precise sum whidi lie
was determined to accept. This last maxim is laudable, and con-
tinues still to be religiously observed by that sect.
" No fanatics ever carried &rther the hatred to ceremonies,
fonns, orders, rites, and positive institutions. Even baptism and
the Lond's supper, by aU other sects believed to be interwoven
with the very vitals of Christianity, were disdainfiilly r^ectodby
them. The very Sabbath they profaned. The holiness of chundies
they derided ; and they would give to these sacred edifices no
other appellation than that of shops, or steeple-houses. No piiestB
were admitted in their sects : Every one had receivec^ firam
immediate illumination, a character much superior to the sacer-
dotal. When they met for divine worship, each rose up in his
place, and delivered the extemporary inspirations of the Holy
Ghost : Women were also admitted to teach the brethren, and
were considered as proper vehicles to convey the dictates of the
spirit. Sometimes a great many preachers were moved to speak
at once; sometimes a total silence prevailed in their congrega-
tion.
''Some Quakers attempted to fast forty days, in imitation of
Christ; and one of them bravely perished in the experiment. A
NOtSS ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHEE. 14S
lemale Quaker came naked into the church ^ere the protecl«ir
mat ; being moved by the spirit, as she said, to appear as a sign
to €bie people. A number of them fimcied, that the raunration
of all things had commenced^ and that clothes were to be reject-
ed, together with other superfluitie8.--The sufferings which £bl»
lowed the practice of this doctrine, were a species <^ perseoutiiMi
not well calculated for promoting it."
The Quakers were particularly favoured by James IX^ owing
to the interest which Penn, the settler of Pennsylvama, had wit£
that monarch. That person took a lead in the controversy con*
ceming the Indulgence, by publishing a pamphlet, entitled,
'^ Good Advice to the Church of Engiuid/'
Note IV,
Next her, the buffoon Ape, as atheists use,
' Mimick'd all sects y and had Ms own to chuse;
StUl, when the Lion look'd, his knee^ he bentf
And paid at church a courtier^s compliment.'^F. 120.
The sect of free-thinkers^ who professed a disbelief in revealed
■ religion, was to be found even among the fitnatical ranks of the
■Lon^ Parliament. Harvey, Martin, Sidney, and others, were
•considered as the chiefii of this party. After the restoration of
Charles 11., these loose principles became prevalent among his
• gay courtiers, and were supposed to have been prevalently adopt-
ed by the king himself, who was educated by the sceptic Hobbes.
As the fireei-thinkers taught a total disbelief of revelation, and
indifference for religious forms, they left their disciples at libert-
^ occasionally to conform to whatever creed, or form of wor-
'unp, might appear most conducive to their temporal interests.
Sunderland was supposed to belong to this sect, tor he made his
- diange to Popery, without even the form of previous instruction
. or eonfierence ; evincing to the whole world, that, being totally
• indifierent about all religions, he was ready to embrace any that
■ would best serve his immediate views. This statesman's charao
ter, as a latitudinarian in religion, is mentioned with great bit-
terness by the Princess Anne, afterwards queen, in her private
correspondence with hier sister, the Princess of Orange. — See
Dalrympl^s Memoirs, Vol. II. p. I69. 8va edit Dry den pro-
bably intended a sarcasm at Sunderland, or some such time-ser-
ving courtier, for his occasional conformity with the royal faith,
of which there were several instances at the time. These per-
sons, as they attended James to mass, were compared to Naaman,
who, on adopting the Jewish religion, craved an indulgence for
waiting upon his master to the house of the idol Rimmon. It is
hinted in '^ The Hind and Panther Transversed," that Dryden's
144 KOTKB OK THE HIND AKB THE VANTBBK.
titiie it ptnonal ; for he is made to quote the fines, end to ad^
bj wmj of eonmentaiTt '' That gaUs somewhere I Emd, I em-
not leaTe it off, though I were cudgelled ennry day m it."
The ehttich par^, among other pamphlets intended to vkBeak
AeDedaratioDofuidulgence, and as aparody of the addresses of
the dissenters on that oocasion* publiriied, ^ To the King's Moit
Excellent Majesty, the Humble Address of the Atheiats^ or tht
Sect ef Epicureans.* After congratulatiB^ the ldiM^«Qii havmg
Aeed his subjects from the solemn superstition of oma, tiier pio-
oeed : *' Your majesty was pleased to wish, that all yovraBDJsets
were of your own religion ; aod perhaps every division winhte yon
were of theirs ; but, for our parts, we freely declare, that if ever
we should be obliged to proress any religion, we would jKrefer the
Church of Rome, which does not much trouble the woild with
the affairs of invisible beings, and is very civil and indulgent to
the fiulin^s of human nature. That church can ease ua firam die
grave fitti^es of religion, and, for our monies^ allow uf^mnaes,
-both for piety and penances : We can easily swidlow end digest
a wafer deity, and will never cavil at the mass in an unknown
tongue> when the sacrifice itself is so unintdligifale. We shall
never scruple the adorationof an ima^, when the cfai^fost leUgioD
is but imagination; and we sre wiUinff to allow the Fopeaiiab-
aolute power to dispense with all penal laws, in this wond and is
another. But before we return to Rome, die greatest origin d
8theism> we wish the Pope, and all his vassal princes, would free
the world from the fear of hell and devils, the inquisition and
dragoons, and that he would take off the chimney-money ef por-
gatoxy» and custom and excise of pardons and indoigcBciei^
which are so much inconsistent with the flourishing trade and
grandeur of the nation. As for the engagements of lives and
rartnnes, the common compliment of addressers, we eoofissi we
have a more peculiar tenderness for those most sscred oooesm-
ments ; but yet we will hazard them in defence of your nunestjy
with as mudi constancy and resolution as your majesty wul ds-
£end your indulguice ; that is, so fisu: as the adventure will serve
our designs and interest
From the Devil-Tavern, the 5th of
November, l6S8. Presented by
Justice Baldock, and was gra-
ciously received,"
KOT£S ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 145
Notp V.
The brUtled baptist Boar, impure as he.
But tvhiten'd imh the foam of sanctity ,
With fat pollutions ^fiird the sacred place.
And mountains levelTd in hisjurious race;
So first rebellion founded was in grace.
But since the mighty ravage, tohu:h he made
In German forests, had his guilt betraj/d,
With broken tusks, and mth a borrou}'d name,
He shunn'd the vengeance, and coxceard the shame.
P. 120.
The sect of Anabaptists^ whose principal tenet is the disallowing
of infant baptism^ arose in Germany and the Low Countries about
the year 1521. This new light, for such it was esteemed, hap-
pened unfortunately to appear to some of the most ignorant and
ferocious of the Low German burghers and boors. Thomas Mun<«
<:ery by birth a Saxon» was the principal apostle of this sect.
He preached both against the Papists and Luther^ recommending
the eschewing of open crimes^ the chastening of the body by se^
verities of abstinence^ and the wearing a long beard. With these
tenets, he combined that of an immediate intercourse with God^
by demanding of him signs and tokens, which would be infallibly
granted, and that of an universal community of goods. These two
&8t doctrines, concerning spiritual and temporal matters, were ad-
mirably calculated to turn the heads of his followers. Being banish-
ed from Saxony, he seized upon the monasteryof Muhlhans,from
which he expelled the monks ; and afterwards made a convert of
one Pfeifer, a daring enthusiast, who» because in a dream he had
put to flight an innumerable number of mice, made no doubt he
was destined to vanquish all principalities and powers. Muncer
easily prevailed on this visionary conqueror to head the miners of
the country of Mansfeldt, in^some ferocious inroads into Saxony.
The Dukes of Saxony and Brunswick, the Landgrave of Hesse,
and other German princes, marched against these madmen, whom
Muncer stimulated to resistance, by assuring them, that a rain-
bow, which happened then to be visible, was an indubitable sign
of victory. The poor deluded wretches accordingly suffered
themselves to be quietly cut to pieces, with their eyes fixed on
the heavenly sign, in expectation of divine assistance. Muncer
was made prisoner, and recanted before his death, only blaming
the princes for their cruelty and oppreission to their vassals, which
drove them to desperation ; — so, if he lived a false prophet, he
died a true preacher. His death, and that of Pfeifer, with the
slaughter made among their followers, did not extirpate the he»e-
ay ; and the most dreadful consequences attended, for some time,
VOL. X. K
146 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHEB.
the progress of those enthusiastic opinions. A tailor, called Bock-
liolutt better known by the name of John of Leyden, with his as-
sociates, Rotman, M atthews, and Cnipperdoling, in 1535, actually
possessed themselves of the city of Munster, expelled the bishopi
and commenced the reign of the saints. Their leader^ under the
strange and horrible delusion that he was inspired by the Holy
Ghost, played the most outrageous pranks of lust and cruelty that
ever madness dictated* Yet, amidst their frensy, the Anabaptists
had valour and conduct sufficient to defend the dty for a length of
time against the bishop and his allies ; and, while the unfortunate
inhabitants were in the utmost misery, the enthunaata themselves
revelled in the indulgence of every licentious appetite. At lengtli
the city was taken, and a cruel, though deserved punishment, in-
flicted upon those who had been the leadery in this holy warfiure.
John of Ley den himself was torn to pieces with hot pincers. After
this memorable event, those who retamed the principles of this sect
were not desirous of beine distinguished by a name which the ex-
cesses of these fanatics had rendered an abomination to all the
Christian world. They were generally confounded with the In-
dependents, with whom they hold many principles in common,
particularly, I believe, the disavowal of any clerical order. Yet
if, for a time, they '' lurked in sects unseen," as Dryden assures
us, the sunshine of general toleration soon brought them out un-
der their own proper appellation. We have, among the addresses
of various classes of dissenters upon the Declaration oflndulgence,
that of the Anabaptists in and about the city of London, who, in-
deed, were the very first in expressing their thanks and loyalty.
The Anabaptists of Leicestershire, the Independents and Baptists
of Gloucester, the Anabaptists of Cheshire, Shropshire, and Staf-
fordshire, &C. &c. &c. all came forward with loyal acclamations
on the same occasion.
Note VL
With greater guile
False Reynard foil an consecrated spoil;
The graceless beast by Athananusjirst
Was chased from Nice, then by Socinus nursed, — P. 121.
Arius, the propagator of a great heresy in the Christian church,
denied that God the Son was equal to God the Father, or that he
was coexistent with him. See page 16. This doctrine he maintain-
ed in the council at Nice against Athanasius, the champion of or-
thodoxy ; and although his doctrines were condemned by the gene-
ral council, and he himself banished, yet his party was so powerful
as to accomplish his restoration, and the banishment of Athanasius,
who fled into the Thebais, or deserts of Upper £g3npt. The schism
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 147
thus occasioned^ continued long to divide the Christian church.
Lelius Socinus, a nobleman of Sienna, revived and enlarged the
doctrine of Arius^ about the latter end of the sixteenth century*
His nephew Faustus collected^ arranged, and published his opi-
nions, which have since had many followers. The Socinians
teach the worship of one God^ without distinction of persons ;
affirming, that the Holy Ghost is but another expression for the
iwer of God ; and that Jesus Christ is only the Son of God
' adoption. As they deny our Saviour's divinity^ they disavow,
course, the doctrine of redemption, and consider him only as a
prophet, gifted with a more than usual share of inspiration, and
aealiDg his mission by his blood. This heresy has, at different
times, and under various disguises and modifications, insinuated
itself into the Christian church, forming, as it were, a resting-
place, though but a tottering one, between natural and revealed
religion. Here, I fear, the author's lines apply :—
To take up half on trust, and half to try.
Name it not faith, but bungling bigotry ;
Both knave and fool the merchant we may call.
To pay great sums, and to compound the small ;
For who would break with heaven, and would not break for all ?
This heretical belief was adopted by the Protestants of Poland and
of Hungary, especially those who were about this time in arms
under Count Teckeli against the emperor. Hence Dryden bids
the Fox,
Unkcnneird, range in thy Polonian plains.
Note Vn,
Let them declare hy vJiat mysterious arts
He shot that body through the opposing might,
Of bobs and bars, impervious to the light.
And stood before his train confessed in open sight, — P. 122.
*' Then the same day, at evening, being the first day of the
week, when the doors were shut, where the disciples were assem-
bled for fear of the Jews, came Jesus, and stood in the midst, and
saith unto them. Peace be unto you."
Again, " And after eight days, again his disciples were within,
and Thomas with them ; then came Jesus, the doors being shut,
and stood in the midst, and said. Peace be unto you."— T/ie Goj*
pel of St John, chap. xx. verses 19. 26.
From these passages of Scripture, Dryden endeavours to con-
fute the objection to transubstantiation, founded on the host be-
ing consecrated in various places at tlie same time, in each of
which, however, the body of Christ becomes present, accordingf
148 XOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHEB.
to the Papist doctrine. This being predicated of the real body
of our Saviour^ the Protestants allege is impossible, as matter can
only be in one place at the same time. Dryden, in answer, as-
sumes, that Christ entered into the meeting of the disciples, by
actually passing through the closed doors of the apartment ; and
as, at the moment of such passage, two bodies must have been in
the same place at the same instant, the body of Jesus namely, and
the substance through which he passed, the poet founds on it as
an instance of a transgression of a natural law, proved from Scrip-
ture, as violent as that of one body being in several different places
at once. But the text does not prove the major part of Drjdea's
proposition ; it is not stated positively by the evangelist, that our
Saviour passed through the doors which were shut, but merely
that he cmne and stood among his disciples without the doors being
opened ; which miraculous appearance might take place many
ways besides that on which Dryden has fixed for the foundation
of his argument.
Note VIII.
More haughty than the rest, the Wolfish race 1
Appears with belly gaunt, and famish* d face ; #■
I^ever was so deform'd a beast of grace. J
His ragged tail betwixt his legs he wears.
Close clappdfor shame ; but his rough crest he rears.
And pricks up his predestinating ear^.-— P. 124.
The personal appearance of the Presbyterian clergy was suited
by an affectation of extreme plainness and rigour of appearance.
A Geneva cloak and band, with the hair close cropped, and co-
vered with a sort of black skull-cap, was the discriminating attire
of their teachers. This last article of dress occasioned an un-
seemly projection of their ears, and procured those who affected
it the nick-name of prick-eared fanatics, and the still better known
appellation of Round-heads. Our author proceeds, with great
bitterness, to investigate the origin of Calvinism. His account of
the rise and destruction of a sect of heretics in Cambria may be
understood to refer to the ancient British church, which disowned
the supremacy of the See of Rome, refused to adopt her ritual,
and opposed St Augustin*s claims to be metropolitan of Britain, in
virtue of Pope Gregory's appointment. They held two confer-
ences with Augustin ; at one of which he pretended to work a
miracle by the cure of a blind man ; at the second, seven Bri-
tish bishops, and a numerous deputation from the monastery of
Bangor, disputed with Augustin^ who denounced vengeance against
them by the sword of the Saxons, in case they refused to submit
to the See of Rome. His [prophecy, which had as little effect
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 149
upon the Welch clergy as his miracle, was shortly afterwards ac-
complished : For Ethelfred, the Saxon King of Northumberland^
having defeated ihe British under the walls of Chester^ |Cut to
pieces no fewer than twelve hundred of the monks of Bangor, who
had come to assist their countrymen with their prayers. Our
author alludes to this extermination of the British recusant clergy,
by comparing it to the census, or tribute of wolves-heads, inipo-
sed on the Cambrian kings. It has been surmised by some au-
thors, that Augustin himself instigated this massacre^ and thereby
contributed to the accomplishment of his own prophecy. Other
authorities say, that he died in 604*^ and that the monks of Bangor
were slain in 613. Perhaps, however, our author did not mean
to carry the rise of Presbytery so far back, but only referred to
the doctrines of Wiccliff, who, in the reign of Edward III., and
his successor Richard II., taught publicly at Oxford several doc-
trines inconsistent with the supremacy of the Pope, and otherwise
repugnant to the doctrines of the Roman church. He was pro-
tected during his lifetime by John of Gaunt ; but, forty years af-
ter his death, his bones were dug up and burned for heresy. His
followers were called Lollards, and were persecuted with great
severity in the reign of Henry V.^ Lord Cobham and many others
being burned to death. Thinking, perhaps, either of these too
honourable and ancient a descent for the English Presbyterians,
our author next refers to Heylin, who brings them from Geneva,*
* ** But, separating this obliquity from the main intendment, the work was
vigorously carried on by the king and his counsellors, as appears clearly by the
doctrinals in the Book of Homilies, and by the practical part of Christian piety,
in the first public Liturgy, confirmed by act of parliament, in the second and
third year of the king ; and in that act (and, which is more, by Fox himself) af-
finned to have been done by the espedol aid of the Holy Ghost. And here the
business might have rested, if Catin's pragmatical spirit had not interposed. He
first began to quarrel at some passages in this sacred liturgy, and afterwards never
left sol^tiag the Lord Protector, and practising by his agents on the court, the
eoontry, and the urdversities, till he had laid the first foundation of the Zuinglian
fiiction ; who laboured nothing more, than innovation both in doctrine and dis-
dplioe ; to which they were encouraged by nothing more than some improvident
indolgenee granted unto John A-Lasco ; who, bringing with him a mixt multi-
tnde of Poles and Germans, obtained the privilege of a church for himself and his,
diftinct in government and forms of worship from the church of England.
«• This gave powerful animation to the Zuinglian gospellers (as they are called
by Bishop Hooper, and some other writers) to practise first upon the church ; who
being countenanced, if not headed, by the Earl of Warwick, (who then began to
nnderminethe Lord Brotector,) first quarrelled the episcopal habit, and afterwards
inveighed against caps and surplices, against gowns and tippets, but fell at last
upon the altars, which were left standing in all churches by the rules of litiii^.
Tne touching on tliis string made excellent music to most of the grandees of the
court, who had before cast many an envious eye on tho^e costly hangings, that
150 XOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
whcrb the rcforrocd doctrine was taught by the well known Zuin-
glius, and the still more famous Calvin. The former began to
f»reach the Reformation at Zurich about 1518^ and disputed pub-
icly with one Sampson, a friar^ whom the Pope liad sent thither
to dfistribute indulgences. Zuinglius was persecuted by the Bishop
of Constance ; but) being protected by the magistrates of Zurich,
he set him at defiance, and in 1523 held an open disputation be-
fore the senate, with such success, that they commanded the tra-
ditions of the church to be thrown aside, and the gospel to be
taught through all their canton. Zuinglius^ in some respects,
merited the epithet o^ fiery ^ which Dryden has ^ven him ; he
was an ardent lover of liberty, and dissuaded his countrymen
from a league with the French^ by which it must have been en-
dangered ; he vindicated, from Scripture, the doctrine of resist-
ing oppressors and asserting liberty, of which he said God was
the author, and would be the defender ;"* and, finally, he was
killed in battle between the inhabitants of Zurich and those of
the five small cantons. The conquerors, being Catholics, treated
his dead body with the roost shameless indignity.
The history of Calvin is too well known to need recital in this
place. He was expelled from France, his native country, on ac-
count of his having adopted the doctrines of the reformers, and,
taking refuge in Geneva, was appointed professor of divinity there
in 1536. But being afterwards obliged to retire from thence, on
account of a quarrel about the administration of the communion
to certain individuals, Calvin taught a French congregation at
Strasburgh. He may be considered as the founder of the Pres-
byterian doctrine, differing from that of Luther, in 'denying con-
BUMsy plat^, and other rich and precious utensils, which adorned thoae altars
And what need all this waste ? said Judas, when one poor chalice onl> , and per-
haps not that, might have served the Uirn. Besides, there was no small spoil to
be made of copes, in which the priest officiated at the holy sacrament ; some of
them being made of doth of tissue, of cloth of gold and silver, or embroidered
velvet ; the meanest being made of silk, or satin, with some decent trimmiogi
And might not these be handsomely converted into private use, to serve as cw-
pets for their tables, coverlids to their beds, or cushions to their chaira or win-
dows ? Thereupon some rude people are encouraged under-hand to beat down
some altars, which makes way lor an order of the council-table, to take down
the rest, and set up tables in their places ; followed by a commission, to be
executed in all parts of the kingdom, for seizing on the premises to the use of the
king."
« *' Quo animo ipsum quoque Patdum dicere exhtimOf si potes liber fieri utere
potius, 1. Cor, 7. Quod eternum DciconcUium^patresnottri^forfisgimiyAritin^
fracto animo sccuti, miris victuriarum succcssibtts ut Sempachxiy^ ^. And again,
'* Ipse Dominus libertatis autiior cxstUU, ct honestam libertatem quercntibut adistL'
-p»Pia et Arnica ParanaKis ad Suitensium rempublicam.
ti
NOTES ON TH£ HIND AND THE PANTfi££. 151
substantiation, and affirming, in a large extent, the doctrine of pre-
destination, founded upon election to grace. The poet proceeds
to describe the progress of this sect :
With teeth untried, and rudiments of daws,
Your first essay was on your native laws ;
Those having torn with ease, and trampled down, ^
Your fangs you fastened on die mitred crown, >
And iVeed from God and monarchy your town. j
What though your native kennel ^U be small.
Bounded betwixt a puddle and a wall ;
Yet your victorious colonies are sent
Where the north ocean girds the continent*
Quicken*d with fire below, your monsters breed
In fenny Holland, and in miitful Tweed ;
And like the first the last affects to be.
Drawn to the dregs of a democracy.
The citizens of Geneva^ before they adopted the reformed reli-
gion, were under the temporal^ as well as the ecclesiastical, au-
thority of a bishop. But, in 1528, when they followed the ex-
ample of the city of Berne, in destroying images^ and abolishing
the Roman ceremonies, the bishop and his clergy were expelled
from the city, which from that time was considered as the cradle
of Presbytery. As they had made choice of a republican form
of government for their little state, our author infers^ that demo-
cracy is most congenial to their new form of *religion. It is no
doubt true, that the Presbyterian church government is most
purely democratical ; which perhaps recommended it in Holland.
It Is also true, that the Presbyterian divines have always preach-
ed, and their followers practised, the doctrine of resistance to
S^pression, whether affecting civil or religious liberty. But if
ryden had looked to his own times, he would have seen, that
the Scottish Presbjrterians made a very decided stand for mo-
narchy after the death of Charles I. ; and even such as were en-
gaged in the conspiracy of Baillie of Jerviswood, which was in
aome respects the cdunter-part of the Ryehouse-plot, refused to
take arms, because they suspected that the intentions of Sidney^
and others of the party in England, were to establish a common-
weedth. I may add, that, in latter times, no body of men have
shewn themselves more attached to the king and constitution
than the Presbyterian clergy of Scotland.
There is room for criticism also in the poetry of these lines. 1
question whetherjenn^ Holland andjruiif id Tweed, in other words,
a marsh and a river, could form a &vourable medium for com-
municating the influence of the quickening Jire belofv,
3
152 KOTE8 ON THE HIND AND THE PAXTHEB.
Note IX*
From Celtic troods is chased the wolfish crew /
But ah ! some pity ^en to brutes is due ;
Their native wallts, methinks, they might emoy,
Curb'd of their native malice to destroy. — r. 126.
It is remarkable how readily sentiments of toleration occur,
even to the professors of the most intolerant religion, when their
minds have fair play to attend to them. The edict of Nantes, by
which Henry IV. secured to his Huguenot subjects the undis-
turbed exercise of their religion, was the recompense of the great
obligations he owed to them, and a sort of compensation for bis
having preferred power to conscience ; an edict, declared unal-
terable^ and which had even been sanctioned by Louis XIV. him-
self, so late as 1680^ was, in 1685, finally abrogated. The vio-
lence with which the persecution of the Protestants was then
J»ushed on, almost exceeds belief. The principal and least vio-
ent mode of conversion^ adopted by the King and his minister
Louvois, was by quartering upon tliose of the reformed religion
large parties of soldiers, who were licenced to commit every out-
rage in their habitations, short of rape and murder. When, by
this species of persecution^ a Huguenot had been once compelled
to hear mass, he was afterwards treated as a relapsed heretic, if
he shewed the slightest disposition to resume the religion in which
he had been brought up. James 11.^ in two letters to the Prince
of Orange, beseeching toleration for the regular priests in Hol-
land, fails not to condemn the conduct of Louis towards his Pro-
testant subjects ; yet^ with gross inconsistency^ or the deepest
dissimulation, he was at the same time congratulating Barillou on
his Most Christian Majesty's care for the conversion of his sub-
jects, and hoping God would grant him the favour of completii^
so great a work. * And just so our author, after blaming the per-
secution of the Huguenots, congratulates Italy and "Spain upon
possessing such just and excellent laws, as the rules of the in-
quisitorial church courts.
Note X.
A slimy^hom and sun^begotten tribe.
Who Jar from steeples, and their sacred sound.
In f elds their sullen conventicles found, — P. 129.
The dregs of the fanaticism of the last age fermented^ during
that of Charles II., into various sects of sullen enthusiasts, who
♦ Dalryniplc-*s Memoirs, Vol. II. p. 108.
NOTES ON TH£ HIN1> AND THE PANTHER. 153
distinguished themselves by the different names of Brownists^ Fa-
milies of Love, &c. &c* In many" cases they rejected all the
usual aids of devotion, and, holding their meetings in the open air,
and in solitary spots, nursed their fanaticism by separating them-
selves from the more rational part of mankind. Dryden has else-
where described them with equal severity :•—
A numerous host of dreaming saints succeed,
Of the true old enthusiastic breed ;
'Gainst form and order they their powers employ,
Nothing to build, and all tnings to destroy.
In Scotland, large conventicles were held in the mountains and
morasses by the fiercest of the Covenanters, whom persecution had
driven frantic. These^men, known now by the name of Camero-
nians, considered Popery and Prelacy as synonymous terms ; and
even stigmatized^ as Erastians and self-seekers, the more moder&e
Presbyterians, who were contented to exercise their religion as
, tolerated by the government.
• Note XI.
Her novices are taught, that bread and wine
Are but the visible and outward sign^
Received by those who in communumjoin ;
But the inward grace, or the thing signified.
His blood and body, who to save us aied^ &c. — P. 133.
The poet alludes to the doctrine of the church of England con-
cerning the eucharist, thus expressed in the twenty-eighth article
of faith : —
** The Supper of the Lord is not only a sign of the love that
Christians ought to (lave among themselves one to another, but
rather it is a sacrament of our redemption by Christ's death ; in-
somuch, that to such as rightly, worthily, and with faith receive
the samey the bread which we break is a partaking of the body of
Christ, and likewise the cup of blessing is a partaking of the blood
of Christ.
** Transubstantiation, or the change of the substance of bread
and wine, in the Supper of the Lord, cannot be proved by holy
writ ; but it is repugnant to the plain words of Scripture, over-
throweth the nature of a sacrament, and hath given occasion to
many superstitions.
*' The body of Christ is given, taken, and eaten in the supper
only, after an heavenly and spiritual manner. And the mean,
whereby the body of Christ is received and eaten in the supper^
ia faith."
154 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
Dryden insisU upon a supposed inconsistency in this docstrine;
but his argument recoils upon the creed of his own churcfa. The
words of our Saviour are to be interpreted as they must have been
meant when spoken ; a circumstance which excludes the literal
interpretation contended for by the Romanists : For, by the words
*' Hoc est corpus meum^" our Saviour cannot be then suppoted to
have meanty that the morsel which he gave to his disciples was
transformed into his bodv^ which then stood before their eyes, and
which all but heretics allow to have been a real, natural^ human
bod}^ incapable, of course, of beins multiplied into as many bo-
dies as there were persons to partd^e of the communion, and of
retaining its original and identical form at the same time. But
unless such a multiplied transformation actually took place, our
Saviour's words to his apostles must have been emblenwtical only.
Ciueen Elizabeth's homely lines are, after all, an excellent com-
mcnt on this point of divinity :-—
His was the word that spake it ;
Hs took the bread and brake it ;
And what that word did make it,
That I believe and take it.
Note XII.
True to her king her principles are found ;
Oh that her practice were but half so sound /«*P. 133.
The pretensions of the church of England to loyalty were car-
ried to a degree of extravagance, which her divines were finally
unable to support, unless they had meant to sign the destruction
of their religion. This was owing to the recollection of the mo*
mentous period which had lately elapsed. The interest of the
church had been deeply interwoven with that of the crown ; their
struggle, sufferings, and fall, during the Civil Wars,hadbeenincom«
mon, as well as their triumphant restoration : the maxim of ^'no
king no bishop," was indehbly imprinted on the hearts of the cler-
gy ; in fine, it seemed impossible that any thing should cut asunder
Uie ties which combined them. In sanctioning, therefore, the doc*
trines of the most passive loyalty, the English divines probably
thought, that they were only pa3dng a tribute to the thronep which
was to be returned by the streams of royal bounty and grace to-
wards the church. Even the religion of James did not, before his
accession, shake their confidence, or excite their apprehensions.
They were far more afraid of the fanatics, under whose iron yoke
they had so lately groaned, than of the Roman Catholics, who, for
three generations, had been a depressed, and therefore a tractable
body, whoso ceremonies and church government resembled, in
some respects, their own, and who had sided with them during the
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 155
Civil Wars against the Protestant sectaries. But when the members
of the established church perceived, that the rapid steps which
James adopted would soon place the Catholics in a condition to
rivalt and perhaps to overpower her, they were obliged to retract
and explain away many of their former hasty expressions of abso-
lute and unconditional devotion to the royal pleasure. The king,
and his Catholic counsellors^ saw with astonishment and indigna-
tion, that professions of the most ample subjection were now to
be understood as limited and restricted by the interests of the
church. In the height of their resentment, even the church of
England's pretensions to a peculiar degree of loyalty were un«
thankfUlly turned into ridicule* in such bitter and sarcastic terms
as the following, which occur in a pamphlet published expressly
** with allowance," i» e. by royal permission.
<' I have often considered, but could never yet find a convin-
cing reason, why that part of the nation, (which is commonly
called the Church of England) should dare appropriate to them-
selves alone the principles of true loyalty ; and that no other
church or communion on earth can be consistent with monarchy,
or, indeed, with any government.
" This is a presumption of so high a nature, that it renders the
Church of England a despicable enemy to the rest of mankind :
For, what can be more ridiculous than to say, that a congregation
of people, calling themselves a church, which cannot pretend to
an infallibility even in matters of faith, having, since their first in-
stitution, made several fundamental changes of reh'gious worship,
should, however^ assume to themselves an inerribility in point of
civil obedience to the temporal magistrate? Or, what can be
more injurious than to aver, that no other sect or community on
eartht from the rising to the setting sun, can be capable of this
singular gift of loyalty ? So that the Church of England alone* (if
you have faith enough to believe her own testimony,) is that beau-
tiful spouse of Christ, holy in her doctrine, and infallible in her
duty to the supreme magistrate, whom (by a revelation peculiar
to herself) she owns both for her temporal and spiritual head.
But I doubt much, whether her ipsa diaU alone will pass current
with all the nations of the universe, without making further
search into the veracity of this bold assertion."
A Nea> Test of the Church qfEnglantPs LoyaUtf.
Note XXX.
Or lsgrim*s counseL'^V. 134.
This name for the Wolf is taken from an ancient political satire,
called ** Reynard the Fox ;" in which an account is given of the
intrigues at the court of the Lion ; the impeachment of the Fox ;
156 NOTES ON THC HIND AND THE PANTHBB.
his various wiles and escapes ; finally, his conquering his accuser
in single combat This ancient apologue was translated from the
German by the venerable Caxton, and published the 6th day of
June, 1481. It became very popular in England ; and we derive
from it all the names commonly applied to animals in fable, as
Reynard the fox, Tybert the cat, Bruin the bear, Isgrim the wolf,
&c* The original of this piece is still so highly esteemed in Ger-
many, that it was lately modernized by Goethe, and is published
among his " Neiie Schriflen." It is probable that this ancient
satire might be the original of '' Mother Hubbard's Tale»" and
that Dry den himself may have had something of its plan in his
eye, when writing *' The Hind and Panther." As it had become
merely a popular story-book, some of his critics did not fail to
make merry with his adopting any thing from such a source.
'* Smith, I have heard you quote Reynard the fox. — Bayes, Why,
there's it now ; take it from me, Mr Smith, there is as good moral-
ity, and as sound precepts, in The Delectable History of Rey-
nard the Fox, as in any book I know, except Seneca. Pray, tell
me, where, in any other author, could I have found se pretty a
name for a wolf as Isgrim ?" *
Note XIV.
The wretched Panther cries aloud for aid
To church and councils^ whom shejirst betray* d;
No help fi om fathers or traditions trains
Those ancient guides she taught us to disdain.
And by that Scripture^ which she once abused
To reformation, stands herself accused, — P. 135.
The author here prefers an argument much urged by the Ca-
tholic divines against those of the Church of England, and which
he afterwards resumes in the Second Part. The English divines,
say they, halt between two opinions ; they will not allow the
weight of tradition when they dispute with the Church of Rome,
but refer to the Scripture, interpreted by each man's private opi-
nion, as the sole rule of faith ; while, on the other hand, they are
obliged to have recourse to tradition in their disputes with the
Presbyterians and dissenters, because, without its aid» they couki
not vindicate from Scripture alone their hierarchy and church-
government. To this it was answered, by the disputants on the
Church of England's side, that they owned no such inconsistent
opinion as was imputed to them ; but that they acknowledged, for
The Hind and tlic Panther Tronsversed, p. 14.
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER, 157
their rule of faitb^ the word of God in general ; that by this
they understood the written word, or Scripture^ in contradistinc-
tion to the Roman rule of Scripture and traditions ; and as dis-
tinguished, both from the Church of Rome^ and from heretics
and sectaries, they understood by it more particularly the writ-
ten word or scripture, delivering a sense, owned and declared by
the primitive church of Christ in the three creeds^ four first ge-
neral councils, and harmony of the fathers.
Dryden's argument, however, had been, by the Catholics,
thought so sound, that it is much dwelt upon in a tract, called,
*' A Remonstrance, by way of Address to both Houses of Par-
liament, from the Church of England," the object of which is to
recommend an union between the Churches of England and of
Rome. The former is there represented as holding the following
language : —
'* You cannot be ignorant, that ever since my separation from
the Church of Rome, I have been attacked by all sorts of dissent-
ers : So that my fate, in this encounter, may be compared to that
of a city, besieged by different armies, who figh^ both against it
and one another ; where, if the garrison make a sally to damage
one, another presently takes an advantage to make an attacL.
Thus, while I set myself vigorously to suppress the Papist, the
Puritan seeks to undermine me ; and, whilst I am busied to op-
pose the Puritan, the Papist gains ground upon me. If I tell the
Church of Rome, I did not forsake her, but her errors, which I
reformed ; my rebellious subjects tell me the same, and that they
must make a thorough reformation ; and, let me bring what ar-
guments I please to justify my dissent, they still produce the
same against me. If, on the other hand, I plead against the
Puritan dissenter, and show, that he ought to stand to church-
authority, where he is not infallibly certain it commands a sin ;
the Papist presently catches at it, and tells me, I destroy my
own grounds of reformation, unless I will pretend to that mfal-
libility which I condemn in them.
*^ Matters standing thus betwixt me and them, why would it
not be a point of prudence in me, (as I doubt not but you would
esteem it in a governor of that city I lately mentioned,) to make
peace with one of my adversaries, to the end I may with more
ease resist the onsets of the other ?"
THE
HIND AND THE PANTHER,
A POEM.
PART II.
T^E
HIND AND PANTHER,
PABT SECONI?-
T)ame, said the Panther, times ^re mended well.
Since late among the Philistines you fell.*
The toils were pitched, a spacious tract of ground
With expert huntsmen was enqompass'd round ;
The inclosure narrow'd ; the sagacious power
Of hounds and death drew nearer every hour.
Tis true, the younger lion 'scaped the snare,
But all your priestly calves lay struggling there.
As sacrifices on their altars laid ;:]:
While you, their careful mother, wisely fled,
Not trusting destiny to save your head.
♦ Alluding to the Popish Plot. See Note I.
+ James 11. then Duke of York, whom Shaftesbury and hiaf
party involved in the odium of the plot.
t Plunket, the titular primate of Irelandv Whitebre^d, provin-
ciu of the Jesuits, and several other Catholic priests, sunered for
(the alleged plot. Derrick most absurdly supposes the paasagfi
po irefer to the period of the Civil War.
VOL. X. * h
I6a THE HIND AND THE PANTHEE.
For, whatever promises you have applied
To your unfailing church, the surer side
Is four fair legs in danger to provide ;
And whate'er tales of Peter's chair you tell.
Yet, saving rev'rence of the miracle.
The better luck was yours to 'scape so well.
As I remember, said the sober Hind,
Those toils were for your own dear self designed.
As well as me ; and with the self-same throw.
To catch the qunrry * and the vermin too,i-»-
Forgive the sland'rous tongues that calPd you so.
Howe'er you take it now, the common cry
Then ran you down for your rank loyalty .f
Besides, in Popery they thought you nurst.
As evil tongues will ever speak the worst.
Because some forms, and oe^^nonies some
You kept, and stood in the main question dumb.
Dumb you were bom indeed ; but, tliinking long.
The t^t, it seems, at last has loosed yoqr tongue tt
And to explain what your forefathers meant.
By real presence in the sacrament.
After long fencing push'd against a wall^ \
Your salvo comes, that he's not there at all : f
There changed your faiths and what may change i
may fall. ^
Who can beUeve what varies every day,
Npr ever was, nor will be at a stay ?—
• Q^any signifies^ properly, " dead ffame ready to be cut up bjr
the huntsman," whiA Uie French stifi ca^Jhire la curie. .But it
is often taken, as in this passage, for the game in general* Ver«
min comprehends such wild animals as are not game— -fiyzci^
polecats^ and the like.
t Note II.
^ $ The test-oath against Popery, in which transubatantiatioii
18 formally disavowed. See Note III.
T^£ HIND A^B THS PANTHER. 163
Tortures may force the tongue untruths to tell^
And I ne'er own'd myself infallible^
Keplied the Panther : grant 3uch presence were,
Yet in your sens^ 1 never own'd it there.
A real virtue we by faith receive.
And that we in the sacrame^nt believe.---
Thfn^ said the Hind, as you the matter state,
Not only Jesuits can (equivocate ;
For real, as you now the word e:$ppund^
From solid substance dwindles to a sound.
Methinks, an ^sop's fable you repeat ;
You know who took the shadow fqr the meat-
Your church'^ substance thus you change at will,
Apd yet retain your former %ure still,
I freely grant you spoke to save yo\jr life ;
For then you lay beneath the butcher's knife.
Long time you fought, redoubled battery bore.
But, after all, against yourself you swore.
Your former sw*; for every hour your form
Is chopp'd and changed* like winds before a stpro).
Thus fear and interest wiU prevail with some ;
Fof all haye not the gift of martycdom. —
The panther grinn'd at this, and thus replied :
That men may err wai; never yet denied ;
But if that common principle be true.
The capon, dame, is levell'd full at you*
But, shunning long disputes, I fain would see
That wond'rous wight. Infallibility.
Is he from heaven, this mighty champion, come ?.
Or lodged below in subterranean JBtome ?
First, seat him somewhere, and deiaYe his race.
Or else conclude that nothing has no place. —
Suppose, though I disown it, said the Hind,
The certain m^nsion were not yet assigned ;
The doubtful residence no proof can brujg
Against the plain existence of the thing.
164 THE HINB AND THE PANTHER.
Because philosophers may disagree.
If sight by emission, or reception be.
Shall it be thence inferr d, I do not see ?*
But you require an answer positive.
Which yet, when I demand, you dare not give ;
For fallacies in universals live.f
I then affirm, that this unfailing guide
In pope and general councils must reside }
Both lawful, botb combined ; what one decrees "I
By numerous votes, the other ratifies, >-
On this undoubted sense the chuirch relies.:J; }
'Tis true, some doctors in a scantier space,
I mean, in each apart, contract the place.
Some, who to greater length -extend the line.
The church's after-aoceptation join.
This last circumference appears too wide ;
The church diffiised is by the council tied.
As members by their representatives
Obliged to laws, which prince and senate gives.
Thus, some contract, and some enlarge the space ;
Jn pope and council, who denies the place.
Assisted from above with God's unfailing grace ?
Those canons all the needful points contain ;
Their sense so obvious, and their words so plain.
That no disputes about the doubtful text
Have hitherto the labouring world perplex'd.
If any should in after4imes appear,
IsTew councils must be called, to make the mean^
ing clear ;
* There was a dispute among naturalists, whether sight wa^
fuscomplished per emissionem vel per receptionem spederum*
+ lioltts versatur in generalibus. was ^n axiom of the schools.
X Note JV
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 165
Because in them the power supreme resides.
And all the promises are to the guides.*
This may be taught with sound and safe defence ;
But mark how sandy is your own pretence^
Who, setting councils, pope, and church aside,
Are every man his owli presuming guide»f
The sacred books, you say, are full and plain,
And every needful point of truth contain ;
All who can' read interpreters may be.
Thus, though your churches disagree,
Yet every s^int has to himself alone
The secret of this philosophic stone^
These principles your jarring sects unite.
When differing doctors and disciples fight.
Though Luther, Zuinglius, Calvin, holy chiefs,
Have made a battle-royal of beliefs ;
Or, like wild horses, several ways have whirl'd
The tortured text about the Christian world ;
Each Jehu lashing on with furious force.
That Turk or Jew could not have used it worse ;
No matter what dissension leaders make,
Where every private man may save a stake.
Ruled by the Scripture and his own advice.
Each has a blind bye-path to Paradise ;
Where, driving' in a circle slow or fast.
Opposing sects are sure to meet at last.
A wond'rous charity you have in store
For all reform'd to pass the narrow door ;
So much, that Mahomet had scarcely more.
For he, 'kind prophet, was' for damning Tione ;
But Christ and Moses were to save their own ;
• The Catholics interpret our Saviour's promise, '' that he
would be with the disciples to the end of the world," as appli«*
cable to cheir own church exclusively.
1- Note V. ^
166 THE HIKD AND TUB PAKTHSft.
Himself was to secure his chosen ntee.
Though reason good for Turks to take the place.
And he allowed to be the better man.
In virtue of his holier Alcoran.
True; said the Panther, I shall ne'er deny
My bf^thren may be saved as well as I :
Though Huguenots condemn our ordination.
Succession, ministerial vocation ;
And Luther, more mistaking what he read,
Misjoins the sacred body with the bread :*
Yet, lady, still remember I maintain.
The word in needful points is only plain.-^— -
Needless, or needful, I not now contend.
For still you have a lGk>p-hole for a friend,
Rgoin'd the matron ; but the rule y6u lay \
Has led whole flodks, and leads them still astray, >
In >^eighty points, and full damnation's wny. j
For^ did not Arius first, Socinus now.
The Son's eternal Godhead disavow ?
And did not these by gospel texts alone
Condemn our doctrine, and maintain tileir own ?
Have not all heretics the same pretence
To plead the Scriptures in their own defence ?
How did the Nicene council then decide
That strong debate ? was it by Scripture tried ?
No, sure ; to that the rebel would not yield ;
Squadrons of texts he marshalled in the field :
That was but civil war, an equal set.
Where piles with piles, and eagles eagles met.f
With texts point-blank and plain he faced the foe,
And did not Satan tempt our Saviour so ?
The good old bishops took a simpler way ;
Each ask'd but what he heard his fether say*
• By the doctrine of consubstantiation.
t Alluding to Lucan's description of the Roman civil wiu*.
13
• • • (
Or how he wa^ instructed in his youth, '
And by tradition's force upheld the truth.*
ThePanther smiled at this ; — And when, said she.
Were those first councils disallowed by me ?
Or where did I at sure tradition strike.
Provided still it were apostolic ?f
Friend, said the Hind, you quit your former
ground.
Where alfyout faith you did on Scripture found.
Kow *tis tradition joined with holy writ ;
But thus your memory betrays your wit.
No, said the Panther ; for in that I view.
When your tradition's forged, and when 'tis trufe.
I set them by the rule, and, as they square.
Or deviate from undoubted doctrine there.
This oral fiction, that old faith declare. —
Hind. The council steefd, it seems, a different
course ;
They tried the Scripture by tradition's force.
But you tradition by the Scripture try ;
Pursued by sects, from this to that you fly,
Nor dare on one foundation to rely.
The word is then deposed, and in this view.
You rule the Scripture, not the Scripture yoii.
Thus said the dame, and, smiling, thus pursued :
I see, tradition then is disallow'd.
When not evinced by Scripture to be true.
And Scripture, as interpreted bv you.
But here you tread upon unfaithful ground.
Unless you could infallibly expound ;
Which you reject as odious Popery,
And throw that doctrine back with scorn on me.
Suppose we on things traditive divide.
Ana both appeal to Scripture to decide ;
By various texts we both uphold our claim.
Nay, often ground our titles on the same :
♦ Note Vr. + See Note XIV. Part I. page 156.
168 THE HIND AND THE PANTHEB.
After long labour lost, and time's expence.
Both grant the words, and quarrel for the sense.
Thus all disputes for ever must depend ;
iP'or no dumb rule can controversies end.
Thus, when you said, — Tradition must be tried
By sacred writ, whose sense yourselves decide^
You said no more, but that yourselves must be
The judges of the scripture sense, not we.
Against our church-tradLtion you declare.
And yet your derks would sit in Moses' chair ;
At least 'tis proved against your argument.
The rule is far from plain,, where all dissent.-^
If hot by Scriptures, how can we be sure*.
Replied the Panther, what tradition's pure ^
For you may palm upon us new for old ;
All, as they say, that glitters, is not gold.
How but by followmg her, replied the dame,.
To whom derived from sire to son they came ;
Whejre every age does on another move*
And trusts no farther than the next above ;.
Where all the rounds like Jacob's ladder rise^
The lowest hid in earth, the top-most in the skies ?
Sternly the savage did her answer mark*
Her glowing eye-balls glittering in the dark.
And said but this : — Since lucre was your trade.
Succeeding times such dreadful gaps have m^de,.
'Tis dangerous climbing : To your sons and* you
I leave the ladder, and its omen too.*
Hind. The Panther's breath was ever famed for
sweet; • . '
But from the Wolf such wishes oft I meet.
You leam'd this language from the Blatant Bea3t,f
Or rather did not speak, but were possess'd.
* The gallows.
V By the Blatant Beast, we are generally to understand slan-
i: :• ; see Spenser's Legend of Courtesy. But it is here taken for
' le Wol^ or Presbyterian clergy, whose violent dedamationS'
"gainst the church of Rome filled up many sermons.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 169
As for your answer, *tis but barely urged :
You must evince tradition to be forged ;
Produce plain proofs ; unblemish'd authors use
As ancient as those ages they accuse ;
*Till when, 'tis not sufficient to defame ;
An old possession stands, till elder quits the claim.
Then for c>ur interest, which is named alone
To load with envy, we retort your own ;
IFor when traditions in your faces fly.
Resolving not to yield, you must decry.
As when the cause goes hard, the guilty man
Excepts, and thins his jury all he can ;
So when you stand of other aid bereft^
You to the twelve apostles would be left.
Your friend the Wolf did with more craft provide
To set those toys, traditions, quite aside ;*
And fathers too, unless when, reason spent.
He cites them but sometimes for ornament.
But, Madam Panther^ you, though more sincere.
Are not so wise as your adulterer ;
The private spirit is a better blind.
Than all the dodging tricks your authors find.
For they, who left the Scripture to the crowd,.
Each for his. own peculiar judge allow'd ;
The way to please them was to make them proud..
Thus \yith full sails they ran upon the shelf;
Who could suspect a cozenage from himself?
On his own reason safer *tis to stand.
Than be deceived and damn'd at second-hand.
But you, who fathers and traditions take.
And garble some, and some you quite forsake,. \
Pretending church-authority to fix.
And yet some grains of private spirit mix.
* The Presbyterian church utterly rejects traditions, and ^9h
peals to the Scripture as the sole rule of faith. --^^
172 THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
So, great physicians cannot all attend.
But some they visit, and to some they send.
Yet all those letters were not writ to all ;
Nor first intended but occasional.
Their absent sermons ; nor, if they contain
All needful doctrines, are those doctrines plain.
Clearness by frequent preaching must be wrought;
They writ but seldom, but they daily taught ; •
And what one saint has said of holy Paul^
" He darkly writ,*' is true applied to all.
For this obscurity could heaven provide
More prudently than by a living guide,
As doubts arose, the difference to decide ?
A guide was therefore needful, therefore made ;
And, if appointed, sure to be obey'd.
Thus, with due reverence to the apostles' writ,
By which my sons are taught, to which submit,
I think, those truths, their sacred works coutaiDi
The church alone can certainly explain ;
That following ages, leaning on the past.
May rest upon the primitive at last.
Nor would I thence the word no rule infer.
But none without the church-interpreter ;
Because, as 1 have urged before, 'tis mute.
And is itself the subject of dispute.
But what the apostles their successors taught, 1
They to the next, from them to us is brought, y
The undoubted sense which is in Scripture sought, j
From hence the church is arm'd, when errors rise,^
To stop their entrance, and prevent surprise ; I
And, safe entrench'd within, her foes without i
defies. ^
By these all festering sores her councils heal,
Which time or has disclosed, or shall reveal
For discord cannot end without a last appeal.
Nor can a council national decide.
But with subordination to her guide :
(I wish the cause were on that issue tried.)
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 173
Much less the Scripture ; for suppose debate
Betwixt pretenders to a fair estate,
Bequeath'd by some legator's last intent ;*
(Such is our dying Saviour's testament :)
The will is proved, is open'd, and is. read.
The doubtful heirs their differing titles plead ;
All vouch the words their interest to maintain,
And each pretends by those his cause is plain.
Shall then the testament award the right ?
"No, that's the Hungary for which they fight ;
The field of battle, subject of debate ;
The thing contended for, the fair estate.
The sense is intricate, 'tis only clear
TVhat vowels and what consonants are there.
Therefore 'tis plain, its meaning must be tried
Before some judge appointed to decide. —
Suppose, the fair apostate said, I grant.
The faithful flock some living guide should want.
Your arguments an endless chace pursue :
I^oduce this vaunted leader to our view.
This mighty Moses of the. chosen crew. —
The dame, who saw her fainting foe retired.
With force renew'd, to victory aspired ;
And, looking upward to her kindred sky,
As once our Saviour own'd his Deity,
Pronounced his words — " She whom ye seek
am I."t
ISTor less amazed this voice the Panther heard.
Than were those Jews to hear a G!od declared.
Then thus the matron modestly renew'd :
Liet all your prophets and their sects be view'd.
* It 18 probable, that fVom this passage Swifl took the idea of
(DODiparin(|[ the Scripture to a testament in his '^ Tale of a Tub."
f By thii asseveration the author seems to, infer^ that^ because
dM C&irdi of Rome avers he^ own infallibilityi she is therefore
-■^^
174 TH£ HINB AND THE PANTHER.
And see to which of them yourselves think fit
The conduct of your conscience to submit ;
Each proselyte would vote his doctor best.
With absolute exclusion to the rest :
Thus would your Polish diet disagree.
And end, as it began, in anarchy ;
Yourself the fairest for electicm stand,
Because you seem crown-general of the land ;
Sut soon against your superstitious lawn
Some Presbyterian sabre would be drawn ;*
In your established laws of sovereignty
The rest gome fundamental flaw would see.
And call rebellion gospel-liberty.
To churqh-decrees your articles require .
Submission mollified, if not entire.f
Homage denied, to censures you proceed ;
Sut when Curtana % will not do the deed.
You lay that pointless clergy-weapon by.
And to the laws, your sword of justice, fly.
Now this your sects the more unkindly take,
'(Those prying varlets hit the bolts you make.)
Because some ancient friends of vours declare.
Your only rule of faith the Scriptures ve.
Interpreted by men of judgment sound.
Which every sect will for themselves expound ;
* In a Polish Diet, where unanimity was necessary^ the mode
adopted ofensuring it was for the majority to hew to pieces the
first individual who expressed his dissent by the &tal veto.
+ '^ The church, according to the articles of faith, hath power
to decree rites and ceremonies, and authority in controversies of
faith ; and yet it is not lawful for the church to ordain any thing
that is contrary to God's word written, neither may it so expound
one place of Scripture, that it be repugnant to another." Artide
XX.
X This ro^lantic name is given to the sword of mercy ; which
wants a point, and is said to have been that of Edward the C<m-
fessor. It is borne at the coronation. The sword of Ogier the
Dane, fampus in romance, the work of GaUod, who made
Joyeuse and Durandal^ was also called Curtana.
TH£ HIND AND THE PANT0EB. 175
Nor think less reverence to tbeir doctors du^
For sound interpretatlcHi^ than to you.
If then, by. able bei^Js, are understood
Your brother prophets, who reform'd abroad ;
Those able heads expound a wiser way, '
That tbeir own sheep their sh^ph^d should obey.
But if you mean yourselves are only sound,
Tbat doctrine turns the reformation round.
And all the rest are false reform^s found >
Because in sundry points you stand alone.
Not in communion join'd with any one ;
And therefore must be all the church» or none.
Then, till you hav^ agreed whose judge is b^st,
Aga.inst this forced submission they protest ;
^\^ile sound, and sound a different sense explains.
Both play at hardhead till they break their brains ;
And from their chairs each other's force defy,
While unregarded thunders vainly fly.
I pass the rest, because your church alone
Of all usurpers best could fill the throne.
But neither you, nor any sect beside.
For this high office can be qualified.
With necessary gifts required in such a guide.
For that, which must direct the whole, must be
Bound in one bond of faith and unity ;
But all your several (lurches disagree.
The cpnsubstantiating church* and priest
B«efuse communion to the Calvinist ;
TheFrench reform'd from preachingy ou restrain,
Because you judge their ordination vain ;f
And so they judge of yours, but donors must
ordam.
* The Lutherans.
-f The Huguenot preachers, being Calvinists, had received
dassical, and not episcopal ordination ; hence, unless re-ordain-
ed, th^ were net adButted-te pn«di in the established church
of England.
176 THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
In short, in doctrine, or in discipline.
Not one reformed can with anotner join ;
^ut all from each, as from damnation, fly t
No union they pretend, but in non-pc^ry.
Nor, should their numbers in a 63mod meet.
Could any church presume to mount the seat.
Above the rest, their discords to dedde ;
Npne would obey, but each would be the guide ;
And face to face dissensions would increase.
For only distance now preserves the peace.
All in tneir turns accusers, and accused,
Sabel was never half so much confused ;
What one can plead, the rest can plead as weU ;
For amongst equals lies no last appeal.
And all confess themselves are fallible.
Now, since you grant some necessary guide.
All who can err are justly laid aside ;
Because a trust so sacred to confer
Shews want of such a sure interprets ;
And how can he be needful who can err ?
Then, granting that unerring guide we want.
That such there is you stand obliged to grant ;
Our Saviour else were wanting to supply
Our needs, and obviate that necessity.
It then remains, that church can only be
The guide, which owns unfailing certainty ;
Or else you slip your hold, and change your side.
Relapsing from a necessary guide.
But this annex'd condition of the crown.
Immunity from errors, you disown ;
Here then you shrink, and lay your weak pre-
tensions down.*
For petty royalties you raise debate ;
But this unfailing universal state
You shun ; nor dare succeed to such a glorious
weight ;
♦ Note VIII.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 177
And for that cause those promises detest.
With which our Saviour did his church invest ;
But strive to evade, and fear to find them true,
As conscious they were never meant to you ;
All which the mother-church asserts her own.
And with unrivall'd claini ascends the throne.
So, when of old the Almighty Father sate
In council, to redeem our ruin'd state.
Millions of millions^ at a distance round.
Silent the sacred consistory crown'd.
To hear what mercy, mixt with justice, could
propound ;
All prompt, with eager pity, to fulfil
The full extent of their Creator^s will :
But when the stem conditions were declared,
A mournful whisper through the host was heard.
And the whole hierarchy, with heads hung down.
Submissively declined theponderousproffer'dcrown.
Then, not till then, the Eternal Son fi-om high '
Rose in the strength of all the Deity ;
Stood forth to accept the terms, and underwent '\
A weight which all the fi*ame of heaven had bent, >
Nor he himself could bear, but as omnipotent. }
Now, to remove the least remaining doubt.
That even the blear-eyed sects may find her out.
Behold what heavenly rays adorn her brows.
What fi-om his wardrobe her beloved allows.
To deck the wedding-day ofhis unspotted spouse !*
Behold what mark! of majesty she brin^
Richer than ancient heirs of eastern kings !
Her right hand holds the sceptre and the keys.
To shew whom she commands, and who obeys ;
With these to bind, or set the sinner fi^ee.
With that to assert spiritual royalty.
♦ Note IX.
VOL. X. M
178 THE HIND AND THE PANTHEE.
One in herself, nor rent by schism^ but sound.
Entire^ one solid shining di^unond ;
Not sparkles shattered into sects like you ;
One is the cburdi, and must be to be true ;
One central principle of unity ;
As undivided, so from errors free ;
As one in fiiith, so one in sanctity.
Thus she, and none but she, the insulting rage
Of heretics opposed from age to age ;
Still when the giant-l^ood invades her throne, v
She $tom)s from heaven, and meets them halfway (
down, r
And with paternal thunder vindicates her crown, ^
But like Egyptian sorcerers you stand.
And vainly lift aloft your magic wandj
To sweep away the swarms of vermin from th^
land;
You could, like them» with like infernal force.
Produce the plague, but not arrest the course.
But when the boils and blotches, with disgrace
And public scandal, sat upon his face.
Themselves attacked, the Magi strove no more, ^
They saw God's finger, and their fete deplore ; L
Themselves they could not cure of the dishonest j
sore.*
Thus one, thus pure, behold her largely spread.
Like the feir ocean from her mother-bed ;
From east to west triumphantly she rides.
All shores are water'd by her wealthy tides.
* The magicians imitated Moses in producing the frogs whidi
infested Egypt ; but they could not relieve from that, or any of
the other plagues. By that of boils and blains they were afflicted
themselves, like the other Egyptians. " And the magicians could
not stand before Moses because of the boils, for the boils were
upon the magicians^ and upon all the Egyptians." — Ea:o(L ix. II.
THB HIJJD AND THE PANTHER. 179
The gospel-sound, diffused from pole to pole.
Where winds can carry, and where waves can roll.
The self-s^me doctrine of the sacred page
Convey'd to every cUme, in every age.
Here let my sorrow give my satire place.
To raise new blushes on my British race.
Our sailing ships like common*sewers we use,
And through our distant colonies diffuse
Thedraught of dungeons, and the stench of stews
Whom, when their home-bred honesty is lost.
We disembogue on some far Indian coast.
Thieves, pandars, palliards,* sins of every sort ;
Those are the manufactures we export,
And these the missioners of zeal has made ;
For, with my country's pardou, be it said.
Religion is the least of all our trade.
-Yet some improve their traffic more than we ;
For they on gain, their only god, rely.
And set a public price on piety.
Industrious of the needle and the chart.
They run full sail to their Japonian maii; ;
Preventing fear, and, prodig^ of fame.
Sell all of Christian to the very name,f
Nor leave enough of that to hide their naked
shame.
Thus^ of three marks, which in the creed we view,
Not one of all can be applied to you ;
Much less the fourth. In vain, alas ! you seek
The ambitious title of apostolic : |
God-like descent ! 'tis well your blood can be
Proved noble in the third or fourth degree ;
For all of ancient that you had before,
I mean what is not borrow'd from our store,
Was error fulminated o'er and o'er ;
Debauchees. + Note X. J Note XI.
180 THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
Old heresies oondemn'd in aees past,
By care and time recovered from the blast.*
'Tis said with ease, but never can be proved.
The church her old foundations has removed.
And built new doctrines on unstable sands :
Judge that, ye winds and rains ! you proved her,
yet she stands.
Those ancient doctrines charged on her for new.
Shew when, and how, and finom what hands they
grew.
We claim no power, when heresies grow bold,
To coin new &ith, but still declare me old.
How else could that obscene disease be purged.
When controverted texts are vainly urged ?
To prove tradition new, there's somewhat more
Required, than saying, *twas not used before.
Those monumental arms are never stirr'd.
Till schism or heresy call down Groliah's sword.
Thus, what you call corruptions, are, in truth,
The first plantations of the gospel's youth ;
Old standard faith ; but cast your eyes again, ^
And view those errors which new sects maintain, !
Or which of old disturbed the church's peaceful f
reign ; ^
And we can point each period of the time.
When they began, and who begot the cnvfie ;
Can calculate how long the eclipse endured.
Who interposed, what digits were obscured.
Of all which are already pass'd away.
We know the rise, the progress and decay.
Despair at our foundations then to strike.
Till you can prove your faith apostolic ;
* Alluding to the doctrines of Wickliff and the Lollards^ con-
demned as heresies in their own times, but revived by the Re-
formers.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 181
A limpid stream drawn from the native source ;
Succession lawful in a lineal course.
Prove any church opposed to this our head.
So one, so pure, so unconfinedly spread.
Under one chief of the spiritual state.
The members all combined, and all subordinate ;
Shew such a seamless coat, from schism so free.
In no communion loin'd with heresy ; —
If such a one you find, let truth pr/vLil ;
Till when, your weights will in the balance
A church unprincipled kicks up the scale
But if you cannot think, (nor sure you can
Suppose in God what were unjust in man,)
That He, the fount£n of eternal grace.
Should suffer falsehood for so long a space
To banish truth, and to usurp her place ;
That seven successive ages should be lost.
And preach damnation at their proper cost ;♦
That all your erring ancestors should die,
Drown'd in the abvss of deep idolatry ;
If piety forbid sucn thoughts to rise.
Awake, and open your unwilling eyes.
God hath left nothing for each age undone.
From this to that wherein he sent his Son ;
Then think but well of him, and half your work
is done.
See how his church, adom*d with every grace,
With open arms, a kind forgiving face.
Stands ready to prevent her long-lost son's em
brace!
Not more did Joseph o'er his brethren weep.
Nor less himself could from discovery keep.
♦ About seven hundred years elapsed before the departure of
the dmrch of Rome from the sunplicity of the primitive Chris*
tiaiw^ and the dawn of the Reformation.
t
I
1 82 , THE HIND AND THE FANTHEK.
When in the crowd of suppliants they Were.seei,
And in their crew his best-loved Benjamin.
That pious Joseph in the Church behold, ^
To feed your famine, and refuse your gold ; v
The Joseph you exiled, the Joseph whom you sold *)
Thus, while with heavenly charity she spoke,
A streaming blaze the silent shaddws broke ;
Shot from the skies a cheerful azure light ; ^
The birds obscene to forests winged their ffigbt, )
' And gaping graves received the wandering guilty \
sprite. *
Such were the pleasing triumphs of the sky.
For James his late nocturnal victory ;
The pledge of his almighty Pmron's love.
The fireworks which his angels made iabove.f
I saw myself the lambent easy light ^
Gild the brown horror, 4nd dispel the hight ;
The messenger with speed the tidings bore ; )
News, which three labouring nations did restore ; >•
But heaven's own Nuntius was mived before: |
By this, the Hind had reach'd her lonely cell.
And vapours rose, and dews unwholesome fell ;
When she, by frequent observation wise, ^
As one who long on heaven had fix'd her eyes, >•
Discem'd a change of weather in the skies. )
The western borders were with crimson spread.
The moon descending, look'd all flaming red ;
She thought gdod manners bound her 16 invite
The stranger dame to be her guest that night.
TTis true, coarse diet, and a short repast,
She said, were weak inducements to the taste
Of one so nicely bred, and so unused to fast ;
But what plain fare her cottage could afford,
A hearty welcome at a homely board.
Note XI. t Note XII. J Poeia loquUur.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHfiR. 18S
Was freely hers ; and, to supply the rest,
An honest meaning, and an open breast ;
Last, with content of mind; the poor man's wealth,
A grace-cup to their common patron's ♦ health*
This she desired her to accept, and stay,
Por fear she might be wilder'd in her way.
Because she wanted an unerring guide.
And then the dew drops on her silken hide
Her tender constitution did declare,
Too lady«like a long fatigue to bear.
And rough inclemencies of raw nocturnal air.
But most she fear'd, ihst travelling so late, ^
Some eviUminded beasts might lie in wait, >-
And without witnesis wreak their hidden hate. )
The Panther, though she lent a listening ear.
Had more c^ lion in her than to fear ;
Yet wisely weighing, since she had to deal
With many foes, their numbers might prevail,
Retum'd her all the thanks she could afford.
And took her friendly hostess at her word ;
Who, entering first her lowly roof, a shed ij
With hoary moss and winding ivy spread, v
Honest enough to hide an humble hermit's head, 3
Thus graciously bespoke her welcome guest : 1
So might these walls, with your fair presence blest, >•
Become your dwelling-place of everlasting rest ; )
Not for a night, or quick revolving year.
Welcome an owner, not a sojourner.
This peaceful seat my poverty secures ;
W^r seldom enters but where wealth allures :
Nor yet despise it ; for this poor abode
Has oft; received, and yet receives a Gk)d ;
A Grod, victorious of a Stygian race.
Here ladd his sacred limbs, and sanctified the place.
* King James. t Note XIII.
184 THE HIND AND THE PANTHElt.
This mean retreat did mighty Pan * contain ;
Be emulous of him, and pomp disdain.
And dar^ not to debase your soul to gain.-f^
The silent stranger stood amazed to see
Contempt of wealui, and wilful poverty ;
And, though ill habits are not soon controul'd.
Awhile suspended her desire of gold ;
But civilly drew in her sharpen'd paws,
Not violating hospitable laws.
And pacified her tail, and licked her frothy jaws.
The Hind did first her country cates provide ;
Then couch'd herself securely by her side.
• Our Saviour.
t Ut ventum ad sedes : Hasc, inquii, Umina XficUHr
Alcidet suUU ; hasc Ulum regia cqnt*
jfude, hospes, contemnere opes^ et te quoque dignum
Finge deo; rdwsque veni turn asper egenis.
iEneiU Lib. VIIL
NOTES
ON
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
PART II,
Note I.
Dame, said the Panther, times are mended wellf
Since late among the Philistines you fell.
The toils were pitch'd, a spacious tract of ground.
With expert huntsmen, was encompassed round;
The enclosure narrow' d ; the sagacious power
Of hounds and death drew nearer every hour,'--'V, l6l.
In these spirited lines, Dryden describes the dangers in which
the English Catholics were involved by the Popish Plot, which
rendered them so obnoxious for two years^ that even Charles him-
self^ much as he was inclined to favour them, durst not attempt
to prevent the most severe measures £rom being adopted towards
thenu It is somewhat curious^ that the very same metaphor of
hounds and huntsmen is employed by one of the most warm ad«
▼ocates for the plot. " Had this plot been a forged contrivance
of their own^ (t. e. the Papists,) they would at the very first dis«
<»very of it have had half a dozen^ or half a score, crafty fellows^
ready to have attested all the same things ; whereas^ on the con-
trary, notwithstanding we are now on a burning scent, we were
fain till here of late, to pick out, by little and Tittle, all upon a
cold scent, and that stained too by the tricks and malice of our
enemies* So that had not we had some such good huntsmen as
the Right Noble Earl of Shaftesbury to manage the chase for us,
oar hounds must needs have been baffled, and the game lost."—
Appeal from the Country to the City. State Tracts, p. 407.
1
186 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
Note 11.
As I remember, said the sober Hind,
Those toils were for your orvn dear self design'd.
As meUas me ; and mth the self-same throw.
To catch the quarry and the vermin too, s
{Forgive the slanderous tongue that ccdTdyou Jo.)
Howe' er you take it now, the common cry
Then ran you down for your rank loyalty. — P, 1 62.
The country party, during the l679> ^^^ the succeeding years,
were as much incensed against the divines of the high church of
England as against the Papists. The furious pamphlet, quoted
in the last note, divides the enemies of this country into four
classes ; officers, courtiers, over-hot churchmen, and Papists.
*' Ov^r-hot cnurchmen," it continues, " are bribed to wish well
"io Popery^ by the hopes, if not of a cardinal's cap, yet at least by
a command over some abbey, priory, or other ecclesiastical pre-
ferment, whereof the Romish church hath so great plenty. These
are the men, who exclaim against our parliament's proceedings,
in relation to the plot, as too violent, calling these times by no
other name than that oS forty or foyrty-one ;* when, to amuse as
well his sacred majesty as his good people, they again threaten us
with snoihet forty-eight ; and all this is done to vindicate under-
hand the Catnolic party, by throwing a suspidon on the fanatics.
These are the gentlemen who so magnify the principles of Bishop
Laud, and so much extol the writings of that same late spirited
prelate Dr Hey lin, who hath made more Papists by his books than
Christians by his sermons. These are those episcopal Tantivies,
who can make even the very Scriptures pimp for me court, irfio
out of Urim and Thummim can extort a sermon, to prove the uol
paying oi tithes and taxes to be the sin against the Holy Ghost ;
and hstd rather see the kingdom run down with blood, than tMurt
with the least hem of a sanctified frock, which they themadlves
made holy." — Appeal, &c. State Tracts^ p. 403. In a very violent
tract, written expressly agninst the influence of the clergy#+ they
are charged with being the principal instruments of the court in
corrupting elections. *' I find," says the author, when talku^ nS
the approaching general election, *' all persons are very forward
to countenance this public work, except the high-flown ritualists
and ceremony-mongers of the clergy, who, being in the conspi-
racy against the people, lay themselves out to accommodate their
* The great Civil Wai broke out in 1641-2, and the kins was dethroned in
1648. , *
t " The Freeholders Choice, or a Letter of Advice concerning filections.^
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 187
masters with the veriest villains that can be picked up in all the
^country f that so we tnay fall into the hands again of as treacherous
and lelrd a parliainent^ as the wisdom of God and folly of man haa
mdst miraculously dissolved. To which end they traduce all wor-
thy men for fanatics, sdiismatics^ or favourers of thetoi. Nay^ do
but pitch upon a gentleman^ who believes it his duty to serve his
God^^ bis Iciilg, and Country, ^thfblly, they cry him down as a
person dangerous and disaffected to the government ; thinking
thei^y to scare the people from the freedom of their choice^ and
then imposie their hairbrained journeymen and half-witted fops
upon them." In Shadwell's Whig play, called ** The Lancashire
Witches/' he has ititroduced an high-flying chaplain, as the ex-
pressicm then run, and an Irish priest, who are described as very
teady to accommodate each other in all religious tenets, since they
agree ih disbelieving the Popish Plot, and m believing that ascri*
bed to the fanatics. These, out of a thousand instances, may serve
to shew, how closely the couptry party in the time of Charles II.
were disposed to identify the interests of Rome^ and of tlie high
church of England. Dryden is therefore well authorized to say,
that both communions were aimed at by that cabal, which pushed
on the investigation of the supposed plot*
Note III.
The testy it seems» at last has loosed your tongue* — P. l62.
If there was any ambiguity in the church of England's doctrine
concerning the eucharist, it was fully explained by the memorable
Test Act, passed in I678, during the heat of the Popish Plot, by
which all persons holding public offices were required, under pain
of disqualification, to disown the doctrine of transubstandation,
in the most explicit terms, as also that of image worship. This
bUl Was pressed forwards with great violence by the country par-
ty. *' I would not," said one of their orators, *' have a popish
man, or a popish woman, remain here ; not a popish dog, or a
popish bitch ; not so much as a popisH cat, to pur and mew about
the king.'' Many of the chiu*ch of England party opposed this
testy flrom an idea that it was prejudicial to the interests of the
crown.
Note IV.
/ then affirm^ thai this unfailing guide
In Pope and general councils must reside ;
Both tawful, Mh combined ; what one decrees
By numerous votes, the other ratifies ;
On this undoubted sense the church relies. -^F. l6^.
' Dryden does not plead the cause of infallibility so high as to
188 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
declare it lodged in the Pope ^one ; b^t inclines to the milder
and more moderate opinion^ which vests it in the church and Pope
jointly. This was the shape in which the doctrine was stated in
the pamphlets generally dispersed from the king^s printizig-piieflB
about dus time ; whether because James really held the <^mion
of the Ultramontane^ or Gallican churchy in this point, or that
he thought the more moderate statement was most likely to be
acceptable to new converts. In a dialogue betwixt a Misgioner
and a Plain Man^ printed along with the Rosary, in a very small
form, and apparently designed for very extensive circulation^ the
question is thus stated : —
'< Plain Man. How shall I know what the church teaches, and
by what means may I come to know her infallible doctrine ?
*' Misnoner, In those cases^ she speaks to us by her supreme
courts of judicature, her general councils, which, being the l^al
representatives of her whole body, she is secured from erring in
them as to all things which appertain to faith."
Note V.
Bui mark horn sandy is your own pretence,
WhOf setting councils. Pope, and church aside.
Are every man his orvn presuming suide.
The sacred hooksy you say, arejuU and plain.
And every needful point of truth contain ;
All who can read interpreters may 5e.— P. l65.
This ultimate appeal to the Scriptures against the authority of
the church, as it is what the church of Rome has most to dread,
is most combated by her followers. Dryden, like a good cour-
tier, adopts here, as well as elsewhere, the arguments which con-
verted his master, Charles II. " We declare," says the king in his
first paper, ** to believe one Catholic and apostolic church ; and
it is not led to every phantastical man's head to believe as he
pleases, but to the church, to whom Christ left the power upon
earth, to govern us in matters of faith, who made these creeds for
our directions. It were a very irrational thing to make laws for
a country, and leave it to the inhabitants to be interpreters and
judges of those laws : For then every man will be his own judg^ ;
and, by consequence, no such thing as either right or wrong.
Can we therefore suppose, that God Almighty would leave us at
those uncertainties, as to give us a rule to go by, and leave every
man to be his own judge ? I do ask any ingenuous man. Whether
it be not the same thing to follow our own phancy, or to inter-
pret the Scripture by it ? I would have any man shew me, where
the ppwer of deciding matters of faith is given to every particular
man. Christ left his power to his church, even to forgive sins in
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 189
heaven ; and left his Spirit with them, which they exercised af«
ter his resurrection ; first by his apostles in the creed, and many
years after by the council at Nice, where that creed was made
that is called by that name ; and by the power which they had
received from Christ, they were the judges even of the scripture
itself many years after the apostles, which books were canonical,
and which were not "'^^Papers found in King Charles's strong box.
Note VL
The good old bishops took a simpler wayy
Each asked but what he heard his father say.
Or how he was instructed in his youth.
And by tradition's force upheld the truth. — P. 167*
Dryden had previously attacked the rule of faith, by private
judgment of the Holy Scriptures. His assumption is, that the
Scriptures having been often misunderstood and abused by he-
retics of various descriptions, there must be some more infallible
guide left us by God as the rule of faith. Instead of trusting,
therefore, to individual judgment founded on the Scripture, he
urges, that the infallibity of faith depends upon oral tradition,
handed down, as his communion pretends, by father to son, from
the times of liie primitive church till this very day. It is upon
this foundation that the Church of Rome rests her claim to in-
fiillibility, as the immediate representative of the apostles and
primitive church.
Note VII.
For paring fires traditions must not fight;
But they must prove episcopacy's righi.'^F. 170.
The doctrine of purgatory, and prayers for the dead, is found-
ed on a passage in the book of Tobit. The Apocrypha not being
absolutely rejected by the Church of England, but admitted for
^ example ot life and instruction of manners," though not of
canonical authority, part of this curious and romantic history is
read in the course of the calendar. The domestic circumstances
of the dog gave unreasonable scandal to the Puritans, from which
the followmg is a good-humoured vindication. '^ Give me leave
toft once to mtercede for that poor dog, because he is a dog of
ffood example, for he was faithful, and loved his master ; besides,
3iat he never troubles the church on Sundays, when people have
their best clothes on ; only on a week-day, when scrupulous
brethren are always absent, the poor cur makes bold to follow
his master." But although the Church of England did not receive
the traditive belief, founded upon the aforesaid passage concern-
ing prayer for the dead, the dissenters accused her of liberal re-
190 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE
£srence to tradition in the disiputes conceding th^ office of bi«
shop, the nature of whieh is in the New Testament 1^ aovieirliat
dubious*
Note VIIL
But this annex' d condUion of the crorvn.
Immunity from errors^ you disown ;
Here then you shrink^ and lay your weak pretensions down,
P. 176.
Much of the preceding aiT^ument^ and in this oondnsion^ is
founded upon the following passage in the second paper found
in King Charles's strong box. ** It is a sad thing to consider
what a world of heresies are crept into this nation. Every man
thinks himself as OHUpetent a judge of the Scriptures bb the very
apostles themselyes; and 'tis no wonder that it 'should be so,'
smce that part of the naticm which looks mosi like a churdii, dares
not bring the true arguments against the other sects, fbr-fear they
should be turned against themselves^ and confhted by t^ir owa
arguments. The Church of England, as 'tis called* would £uq
have it thought, that they aris j udges in mattes spiritual, and yet
dare not positively say, diat there is no appeal £rom them ; for
^ther they must say, that they are infallible, which they cannot
pretend to, pr confess^ that what they decide in matters of cotbi
science is no further to be followed^ than as it agrees with every
man's private judgment."
To this the divines of England answered, that theyindeed as-
serted church authority, but without pretending to infallibility ;
and that while the church decided upon points of faith, she was
to be directed and guided by the Scriptures, just as the judges
of a temporal tribunal are to frame their decisions^ not from any
innate or infallible authority of their own, but in conformity witi^
the laws of the realm.
Note IX.
Behold, what heavenly rays axiom her brows,
What from his wardrobe her beloved allows.
To deck the wedding-day of his unspotted spouse /—P. 177.
In this and the following lines Dryd«i sets forth his adopted
Mother-Church in all the glowing attributes of majesty and au-
thority. The lines are extremely beautiful, and their policy is
obvious, from the following passage in a pretended letter from
Father Petre to Father La Chaise. The letter bears every msak
indeed of forgery ; but it is equally an illustration 6f Dryden,
whether the policv contained in it was attributed by the Pro-
testants to the Catholics as part of their scheme, or was really
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 191
avowed as such by themselves. *' Many English heretics resort
often to our sermons; and I have often recommended, to. our fa-
thers to preach now in the beginning as little as they can of the
controversy, because that provokes ; but to represent to them the
beauty and'antiquity of the Catholic religion^ that they may be
convinced that all that has been said and preached to them^ and
their own reflections concerning it, have been all scandal."-^*
SoMKES* Tracts, p. 9,bS. The unity of the Catholic church was
also chiefly insisted on during the controversy :
One in herself, not rent by schism, but sound,
Entire ; one solid, shining £ainond ;
Not sparkles shattered unto seets like you ;
One is the church, and must be to be true.
It seems to have escaped Dryden^ that all the various sects
which have existed^ and do now exist* in the Christian worlds
may, in some measure, be said to be sparkles shattered from his
** solid diamond ;" since at one time all Christendom belcmged
to the Roman church. Thus the disunion of the various sects of
Protestants is no more an argument against the Church of Eng-
hmd than It is against the Church of Rome, or the Christian faith
ht general. All communions insist on the same privilege ; and
when the Church of Rome denounced the Protestants' as here-
tics, like Coriolanus going into^exile^ they returned the sentence
against her who gave it. If it is urged, that, notwithstanding
these various defections, the Roman Church retained the most
extended commiinion, this plea would place the truth of religi-
ous opinions upon the hazardous basis of numbers, which Maho-
metan's might plead more successfully, than any Christian church,
in proportion as their faith is more widely extended. These ar-
guments of the unity and extent of the church are thus express-
ed in a missionary tract already quoted, where the Plain Man
thus addresses his English parson : '* Either shew me, by more
eiin and positive texts of Scripture than what the Missioner has
re brought, that God Almighty has promised to preserve his
church from essential errors^ such as are idolatry^ superstition^
&c ; or else shew me a church visible in all ages sp^^^ad over the
fiice of the whole world, secured from such errors, and at unity
in itself. A church, that^'has had all along kings for nursing
fathers, and queens for nursing mothers ; a diurch, to which all
nations have flowed, and whim is authorized to teach them in-
fallibly all those truths which were delivered to the saints with-
out mixtures of error^ which destroy sanctity ; I say, either shew
me, from plain texts of Scripture, tliat Christ's church was not
to be my infallible guide ; or shew me such a Church of Christ
as these promises require, distinct from that of the Roman^ and
from which she has either separated, or been cut off."
10
198 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHEB.
NoteX.
Industrious of the needle and the chart,
Thetf runfiM sail to their Japonian mart ;
Preventing Jear, and prodigal offamey
SM all (^Christian to the very name.'^T. 179*
The author has, a little above^ used an argument» much to the
honour of the CaUiolic church— her unceasing diligence in la-
bouring for the conversion of the heathen ; a task, in which her
missionaries have laboured with unwearied assiduity^ encounter-
ing fatigue^ danger, and martjrrdom itself, in winning souls to the
faith. It has been justly objected* that the spiritu^ instruction
of their converts is but slight and superficial ; yet still their mis-
sionary zeal forms a strong contrast to the indifference of the re-
formed churches in this duty. Nothing of the kind has ever been
attempted on a sreat or national scale by the Church of England,
which gives CaUiolics rdom to upbraid her clergy witli their un«
ambitious sloth, in declining the dignity of becoming bishi^ ta
partibus injidelium. The poet goes on to state the scandalous ma*
terials with which it has been the universal custom of Britain to
supply the population of her colonies ; the very dregs and out-
casts of humanity being the only recruits whom she destines to
establish the future marts for her commodities. The success of
such missionaries among the savage tribes, who have the misfixt-
tune to be placed in their vicinity, may be easily guessed :
Deliberate and undeceived,
The wild men*s vices they received,
And gave them back their own.— Wordsworth.
On the other band, the care of the Catholic missionaries was
by no means limited to the spiritual concerns of those heathens
among whom they laboured : they extended them to their tem-
poral concerns, and sometimes unfortunately occasioned grievous
civil dissensions, and much bloodshed. Something of this kind
took place in Japan ; where the Christians, having raised a re-
bellion against the heathens, (for the beaten party, as Drydmi
says, are always rebels to the victors,) were exterminated, root
and branch. This excited such an utter hatred of Catholic priests,
and their religion, that they were prohibited, under the deepest
denunciations of death and confiscation, from landing in. Japan.
Nevertheless, the severity of this law did not prevent the Hol-
landers from sharing in the gainful traffic of the island, which
they gained permission to do, by declaring, that they were not
Christians, (only meaning, we hope, that they were not Catho-
lics,) but JDutchmen ; and it was currently believed, that, in cor-
roboration of their assertion, they were required to trample upon
the crucifix, the object of adoration to those whom the Jitpanese
had formerly known under the name of Christians.
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 198
Note XL
Thus of three marks which in the creed toe view.
Not one ofaU can he applied to you,
Much less thejourth ; in vain^ alas! you seek
The ambitious title qf apostolic. — P. 179.
The poet is enumeratiiig the marks of the Catholic churdi,
according to the Nicene creed, which he makes out to be Unity,
Truth, Sanctity, and Apostolic Derivation, all of which he de«
nies to the Church of England. The qualities of truth and sane-*
tity are implied under the word Catholic*
Note X;i.
That pious Joseph in the church behold,
To feed yourfaminey and refuse your gold $
The Joseph you exiled^ the Joseph whom you sold.^-V. 182.
The English Benedictine monks executed a renunciation of
llie abbey knds, belon^ng to the order before the Reformati(»ij
in order to satisfy the minds of the possessors, and reconcile them
to the re-establishment of the ancient religion, by guaranteeing
the stability of their property. There appeared, however, to the
pfoprietors of these lands, little generosity in this renunciation, in
cue the monks were to remain in a condition of inability to sup-
' port their pretended claim ; and, on the other hand, some reason
to suspect its validity, should they ever be strong enough to plead
their title. The king^s declaration of indulgence contained a pro-
mise upon this head, which appeared equally ominous : He decla-
red, that he would maintain his loving subjects in their proper-
ties and possessions, <^ as well of church and abbey lanas as of
any other." The only effect of this clause was to make men
inquire, whether Popery was so near being established as to
make such a promise necessary ; and if so, lu>w far the promise
itself was to be relied upon, in opposition to the doctrine of re-
aomptiony which had always been enforced by the Roman see,
even when these church lands fell into the hands of persons of
tbeir own persuasion, unless they were dedicated to pious uses.
Nor were there wanting persons to remind the proprietors of such
lands, that the 'canons declared that even the Pope had no author
rity to confirm the alienation of the property of the chin*ch ; that
the ceneral council of Trent had solemnly anathematized all who
detained churdi lands ; that the Monasticon AngUcanum was care-
fiiUj preserved in the Vatican as a rule for the intended resump«
tion ; and that the reigning Pope had obstinately refused to con-
firm any such alienations by his bulls, though the doing so at thie
crisb might have removed a great obstacle to the growth of Po-
VOL. X. N
194 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE FANTHEB.
pery in Eng1and.i~See, in the Siaie Tracts, a piece called " Ab-
bey Lands not assured to Roman Catholics/' vol. I. p. 826 ; and
more especially a tract, by some ascribed to Burnet, and by odien
to Sir William CovenUy, entitled, *' A Letter written to Dr Bur-
net, giving some account of Cardinal Pole's secret powers ; from
whi(£ it appears, Uiat it never was intended to confirm the Alie-
nation that was made of the Abbey Lands. To which are added,
Two Breves that Cardinal Pole brought over, and some other of
his Letters that were never before printed^ 1685."
Note XII L
Such were the pleasing triumphs of the sky.
For Jame$ his late nocturnal victory ;
The pledge of his almighty Patron's lovCf
The ^reworks which hts angels made o^e.— P. 182.
The aurora borealis was an uncommon spectacle in England
during the 17th century. Its occasional appearance, however,
gave foundation to those tales of armies fighting in the air, and
similar phenomena with which the credulity of the vulgar was
amused. The author seems to allude to some extraordinary dis-
play of the aurora borealis on the evening of the battle of Sedge-
muuTy which was chiefly fought by night. I do not find the cir-
cumstance noticed elsewhere. Dryden attests it by his personal
evidence*
Note XIV.
And then the dew-drops on her silken hide
Her tender constitution did declare.
Too lady-like a long fatigue to hear^
And rough inclemencies ofravo nocturnal air. — P. 183.
This seems to be a sarcasm of the same kind with the following:
" But," says the zealous Protes^int of the mother church, '' if
you repeal the test, you take away the bulwark that defends die
church ; for if that were once demolished, the enemy would rush
in and possess all ; and it is a delicate innocent church that can-
not be safe but in a fortified place."-—'' I must confess, it is a great
argument of her modesty to own herself weak and unable to sub-
sist without the support of parliamentary laws, to hang, draw, or
quarter her opposers, and without a coercive power in herse^to
fine and exconamunicate all recusants and nonconformists."* One
would wish to ask this Catholic advocate for universal toleration,
if he had ever heard of a court in Popish countries for the pre*
vention of heresy, generally called the Inquisition ?
New Test of the Church of £i)gland*i Loyalty.
THE
HIND AND THE PANTHER.
A POEM.
PART III.
J t
i
s..
THE
HIND AND THE PANTHER.
PAET THIRD,
]!^ucH malice, mingled with a little wit.
Perhaps may censure this mysterious writ ;
B^use the muse has peopled Caledon
With panthers, bears, and woItcs, and beasts un-
known.
As if wewerenotstock'd withmonstersof ourown.
Let ^sop answer, who has set to view
Such kinds as Greece and Phrygia never knew ;
And Mother Hubbard, in her homely dress.
Has sharply blamed a British lioness ;
That queen, whose feast the Actions rabble keep.
Exposed obscenely naked, and asleep.^
Lea by those great examples, may not I
The wonted organs of their words supply ?
If men transact like brutes, 'tis equal then
For iMTutes to claim the privilege of men.
Others our Hind of fdly wifi indite.
To entertain a dangerous guest by night
Let those rmemb^. ibat she cannot die.
Till reeling time is loist in round eternity ;
■ t ■ ■ II I ■ 11 I ■ w ■
« Note I. .
19S THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
Nor need she fear the Panther, though untamed^
Because the Lion's peace was now proclaimed ;*
The wary savage would not give offisnce.
To forfeit the protection of her prince ;
But watch'd the time her vengeance to complete.
When all her furry sons in fr^uent senate met ;f
Meanwhile she quench'd her fury at the flood.
And with a lenten sallad cooM her hlood.
Their commons, though but coarse, were notbuig
scant.
Nor did their minds an equal banquet want.
For now the Hind, whose noble nature strove
To express her plain simplicity of love.
Did all the honours of her house so well.
No sharp debates disturb'd the friendly meaL
She tum'd the talk, avoiding that extreme.
To common dangers past, a sadly-pleasing thane;
Remembering every storm which toss'd the stat^^l
When both were objects of the public hate^ >
And dropta tear betwixtforherown childrens'fate. J
Nor fail'd she then a full review to make
Of what the Panther sufTer'd for her sake ;
Her lost esteem, her truth, her loyal care.
Her faith unshaken to an exiled heir.
Her strength to endure, her courage to defy.
Her choice of honourable infamy.|
On these, prolixly thankful, she enlarged ;
Then with acknowledgment herself she charged ;
For friendship, of itself an holy tie.
Is made more sacred by adversity.
' ■ — ^— — .<»^— I I ll^l— M^i^*— 1— ^i^—— — ^IM.lMi—i^M«i»^
* The Declaration of Indulgence.
+ The Convocation.
X The adherence of the church of England to the interests of
James, while he was an exile at Brussels, and the Bill of ExcliN
sion against him was in dependence, is here, as in other pLioeii^
made the subject of panegyric. Had the church joined with the
sectaries, the destruction of the Catholics, at ihe tune of the plot,
would have been inevitable.
THE HIKD AND THE PANTHEE. 199
Kow should they part, malicious tongues would say.
They met like chance companions on the way.
Whom mutual fear of robbers had possess'd :
While danger lasted, kindness was profess'd ;
But, that once o'er, the short-lived union ends.
The road divides, and there divide the fnends.
The Panther nodded, when her speech was done,
^ And thank'd her coldly in a hollow tone ;
But said, her gratitude had gone too far
For common offices of Christian care.
If to the lawful heir she had been true.
She paid but Ccesar what was Cassar's due,
I might, she added, with like praise describe
Your suffering sons, and so return your bribe.
But incense from my hands is poorly prized ;
.For gifts are scom'd where givers are despised.
I served a turn, and then was cast away ;
You, like the gaudy fly, your wings display,
And sip the sweets, and bask in your great
tron's day.-—*
This heard, the matron was not slow to find
What sort of malady had seized her mind ;
Disdain, with gnawing envy, fell despite.
And cankered malice, stood in open sight ;
Ambition, interest, pride without controul.
And jealousy, the jaundice of the soul ;
Revenge, the bloody minister of ill,
With all the lean tormentors of the will.
'Twas easy now to guess from whence arose
Her new-made union with her ancient foes ;
Her forced civilities, her faint embrace.
Affected kindness, with an alter'd face ;
* The church of England complained, with great reason, of
the ooldnesfl which they experienced from James, in whose be«
half they had exerted themselves so successfully.
fiOO THE HIND AKD THE FAKTHEB.
Yet durst she not too deeply probe the wound.
As hoping still the nobler parts were sound ;
But strove with anodynes to assuage the smart,
And mildly thus her medicine did impart.
Complaints of lovers help to ease their pain ;
It shews a rest of kindness to complain ;
A friendship loth to quit its former hold.
And conscious merit, may be justly bold ;
But much more just your jealousy would show.
If others* good were injury to you.
Witness, ye heavens, how I rejoice to see
Rewarded worth and rising loyalty !
Your warrior ofispring, that upheld the crown.
The scarlet honour of your peaceful gown.
Are the most pleasing objects I can find.
Charms to my sight, and cordials to my mind.
When virtue spooms* before a prosperous gale^
My heaving wishes help to fill the sail ;
And if my prayers for all the brave were heard,
Caesar should still have such, and such should still
reward.
The laboured earth your pains have sow'd and
tiU'd,
^Tis just you reap the product of the field.
Yours be the harvest ; 'tis the beggar's gain.
To glean the fallings of the loaded wain.
Such scatter'd ears as are not worth your care.
Your charity, for alms, may safely spare.
For alms are but the vehides of prayer.
My daily bread is literally implored ;
I have no bams nor granaries to hoard.
If Caesar to his own his hand extends.
Say which of yours his charity offends ;
You know, he largely gives to more than are his
friends.
* An old sea-terni, signifying to run before the wind.
THE HIND AKD THE PANTHER. 201
Are you defrauded, when he feeds the jpoor ?
Our mite decreases nothing of your store.
I am but few, and by your fare you see
My crying sins are not of luxury.
Some juster motive sure your mind withdraws.
And makes you break our friendship's holy laws ;
For bare&ced envy is too base a cause.
Shew more occasion for your discontent ;
Your love, the Wolf, would help you to invent :
Some German quarrel, or, as times go now.
Some French,* where force is uppermost, will do.
When at the fountain's head, as merit ought
To claim the place, you take a swilling draught.
How easy 'tis an envious eye to throw.
And tax the sheep for troubling streams below ;
Or call her, when no farther cause you find.
An enemy profess'd of all your kind !
Sut, then, perhaps, the wicked world would think.
The Wolf designed to eat as well as drink.—-.
This last allusion galPd the Panther more,
Because, indeed, it rubb'd upon the sore ;
Yet seem'dshenot to wince, though shrewdly pain'd.
But thus her passive character maintain'd.
I never grudged, whatever my foes report.
Your flaunting fortune in the Lion's court.
You have your day, or you are much belied.
But I am always on the suffering side ;
You know my doctrine, and I need not say,
I will not, but I cannot disobey.
• line querelle AUemande is the well-known French phrase
fixr a quarrel picked without cause. The Hind insinuates^ that
the Panther^ conscious of superior force, meant to take such
canae of quarrel at the Engluh Catholics^ as Louis had raked
up against the Huguenots, which, therefore, might be styled
nraer a French than a Geraian quarrel.
202^ THE HIND AND THE PANTHEIt.
Their malice, too, a sore suspicidn Inrings ;
For, though they dare not bcu-k, they snarl at kings.
On this finn principle I ever stood ;
He of my sons who fails to make it good.
By one rebellious act renounces to my blood,
Ah, said the Hind, how many sons have you.
Who call you mother, whom you never knew ?
Sut most of them, who that relation plead.
Are such ungracious youths as wish you dead*
They gape at rich revenues which you hold.
And fain would nibble at your grandame gold ;
Enquire into your years, and laugh to find
Your crazy temper shews you much declined.
Were you not dim and doated, you might see
A pack of cheats that daim a pedigree,
No more of kin to you, than you to me.
Do you not know, that, for a little coin.
Heralds can foist a name into the line ?
They ask you blessing but for what you have.
But, once possess'd of what with care you save.
The wanton boys would piss upon your grave.
Your sons of latitude, that court your grace.
Though most resembling you in form and face.
Are far the worst of your pretended race ;j
And, but I blush your honesty to blot.
Pray God you prove them lawfully begot !
For, in some Popish libels I have read.
The Wolf has been too busy in your bed ;f
At least their hinder parts, the belly-piece.
The paunch, and all that Scorpio claims,:]: are his.
* Note 11. t Note III.
i The different parts of the body were assigned to diffisrent
planets. The old almanacks have a naked figure in front, 8ur«
rounded by the usual planetary emblems, which dart their rays
on the parts which they govern. What Scorpio daims, if not
apparent from the context, may be there found.
THB HIND AND THE FAKTHSR. 203
Nor blame them for intaiiding in yoiir line ;
Fat bishopricks are still of right divine.
Think you, your new French proselytes are come.
To starve abroad, because they starved at home ?
Your benefices twinkled from afar.
They found the new Messiah by the star ;
Those Swisses fight on any side for pay.
And 'tis the living that conforms, not they.
Mark .with what management their tribes divide ;
Some stick to you, and some to t'other side.
That many churches may for many mouths pro-
vide.*
More vacant pulpits would more converts make ;
All would have latitude enough to take.
The rest unbeneficed your sects maintain ;
For ordinations, without cures, are vain.
And chamber practice is a silent gain.
Your sons of breadth at home are much like these ;
Theh* soft and yielding metals run with ease ;
They melt, and take the figure of the mould.
But harden and preserve it best in gold.— -
Your Delphic sword, the Panther then replied.
Is double-edged, and cuts on either side.
Some sons of mine, who bear upon their shield
Three steeples argent in a sable field.
Have sharply tax'd your converts, who, unfed.
Have follow'd you for miracles of bread ; f
Such, who themselves of no reUgion are.
Allured with gain, for any will declare.
Bare lies, with bold assertions, they can face ;
But dint of argument is out of place.
The grim logician puts them in a fright ;
'Tis easier far to flourish than to fight.J
♦ Note IV.
f Alluding to the charges brought against Dryden himself
by Stillingfleet. See Note V.
t Note VI.
£04 THE HIND AND THET PANTS£B.
Thus, our eighth Henrjr's marriage they de&me ;
They say, the schism of beds began tlie game,
Divordng from the church to wed the dame
Though mrgely proved, and by himself profess'd,
Thatconscience,consciencewouldnotlethimrest^—*
I mean, not till possessed of her he loved.
And old, uncharming Catherine was removed.
For sundry years before he did ocnnplain.
And told his ghostly confessor his pain.
With the same impudence, without a ground^
They say, that, look the reformation rounds
No treatise of humility is found.f
But if none were, the gospel does not want ;
Our Saviour preach'd it, and I hope you grant, ^
The sermon on the mount was protestant.— <- J
No doubt, replied the Hind, as sure as all
The writings of Saint Peter and Saint Paul ;
On that decision let it stand, or falL
Now for my converts, who, you say, unfed.
Have followed me for miracles of bread.
Judge not by hearsay, but observe at least.
If sincetheirchange their loaves have been increased.
The Lion buys no converts ; if he did,
Beasts ^ould be sold as fast as he could bid.
Tax those of interest, who conform for gain.
Or stay the market of another reign :
Your broad- way sons ^ would never be too nice
To close with Calvin, if he paid their price ;
But, raised three steeples higher would change their
note.
And quit the cassock for the canting-coat.
♦ Note VII,
f This is our author's own averment in his ^' Defence of the
Papers of the Duchess of York." See Note VIII.
I The latitudinarian^ or moderate clergy aboye»menti<med>
and particularly Stillingfleet
9
THE HIND AND THE FANTHBR. 205
NoWy if you damn this censure, as too bold.
Judge by yourselves, and think not others sold.
Meantime, my sons accused, by fame's report.
Pay small attendance at the Lion's <x)ui:tv^
Nor rise with early crowds, nor flatter late ;
For silently they beg, who daily wait.
Preferment is bestow'd, that comes unsought ;
Attendance is a bribe, and then tis bought.
How they should speedy their fortune is unlri^ ;
For not to ask, is not to be denied*
For what they have, their God and king they Uess,
And hope they should not murmur, had they less.
But if reduced subsistence to implore.
In common prudence they would pass your door ;
Unpitied Hudibras, your champion friend,*
Has shewn how far your charities extend.
This lasting verse shall on his tomb be read^
*.^He shamed you living, and upbraids you dead.**
With odious atheist names you load your foes ;
Your liberal clergy why did I expose ?
It never fidls in charities like those.f
In climes where true religion is profess'd,.
That imputation were no laughing jest ;
But imprmaturf with a chaplain's name.
If h^re sufficient licence to defame.^
What wonder is't that black detraction thrives ?
ifhe homicide of names is less than lives ;
And yet the perjured murderer survives.^—
This said, sue paused a little, and suppressed
The boiling indignation of her breast.
• Note IX. t Note X.
% SttUidgfleet^s Vindication, which contains the imputations
complained of by Dryden^ bears this licence : '^ Impritnaieur^
Henricoa Maurice Rxno, P. D. Wilhelmo Archiep. Cant, a sacris.
January 10, 1686"
206 THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
She knew the virtue of her blade^ nor would
Pollute her satire with ignoble blood ;
Her pantinff foe she saw before her eye,
And back she drew the shining weapon dry.
So when the generous Lion has in sight
His equal match, he rouses for the fight ;
But wnen his foe lies prostrate on the plain^
He sheaths his paws, unciu'ls his angry inane»
And, pleased with bloodless honours of the day.
Walks over, and disdains the inglorious prey.
So James, (i£ great with less we may oompure^)
Arrests his roUing thunder-bolts in air ;
And grants ungrateful friends a lengthened spac^
To implore the remnants of long-sunering grace.
This breathing-time the matron took ; and then
Resumed the thread of her discourse again.*^
Be vengeance wholly left to powers divine,
And let heaven judge betwixt your sons and tniw fy
If joys hereafter must be purchiased here
With loss of all that mortals hold so dear.
Then welcome infamy and public shame.
And last, a long farewell to worldly fame 1*
'Tis said with ease ; but, oh, how hardly tried 1
By haughty souls to human honour tied ! v
O, sharp convulsive pangs of agonizing pride ! j
Down then, thou rebel, never more to rise ! v
And what ibon didst, and dost, so dearly prize, \
That fame, that darling fame, make that my sa^ j
crifice. ^
'Tis nothing thou hast given ; then add thy tears
For a long race of unrepenting years.
* In these^ and in the following beautiful lines, the poet, who
had complained of Stillingfleet's having diarged him withatheisni,
expresses his resolution to submit to this reproach with Christian
meekness, and without retaliation.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER* 207
'Tis nothing yet, yet all thou hast to give.
Then add those may-be years thou hast to live.
Yet nothing still ; then poor and naked come.
Thy father will receive his unthrift home»
And thy Uest Saviour's blood discharge themighty
sum.
Thus, she pursued, I discipline a son.
Whose unchecked fury to revenge would run ;
He champs the bit, impatient of his loss.
And starts aside, and flounders at the cross.
Instruct him better, gracious God, to know.
As thine is vengeance, so forgiveness too ;
That, suffering from ill tongues, he bears no more
Than what his sovereign bears, and what his Sa-
viour bore.
It now remains for you to school your child,*
And ask why God's anointed he reviled ;
A king and princess dead ! did Shimei worse ?
The curser's punishment should flight the curse ;
Your son was wam'd, and wisely gave it o'er.
But he, who counsell'd him, has paid the score ;f
The heavy malice could no higher tend.
But woe to him on whom the weights descend.
So to permitted ills the demon flies ;
His rage is aim'd at him who rules the skies.
Constrain'd to quit his cause, no succour found.
The foe discharges every tier around.
In douds of smoke abandoning the flght.
But his own thundering peals proclaim his flight.
In Henry^s change his charge as ill succeeds ;
To that long story little answer needs ;
Confix)nt but Henry*s words with Henry's deeds.
* Stillingfleet. See Note XI.
t Note XI I.
208 THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
Were space allow'd, with ease it might be proved,
What springs his blessed reformation moved.
The dire effects appear'd in open sight,
Which from the cause he calls a distant fliffht.
And yet no larger leap than from the sun to Ught
Now last your sons a double pcean sounds
A treatise of humility is found.
'Tis found, but better it had ne'er been sought.
Than thus in Protestant procession brought.
The famed original through Spain is known^
Rodriguez' work, my celebrated son.
Which yours, by ill translating, made his own ;*
Conceal'd its author, and usurp'd the name^ .
The basest and - ignoblest thefi of fame.
My altars kindled first that living coal ;
Restore, or practise better what you stole ;
That virtue could this humble verse inspire^
'Tis all the restitution I require.—
Glad was the Panther that the charge was dosed.
And none of all her favourite sons exposed ;
For laws of arms permit each mjured man.
To make himself a saver where he can.
Perhaps the plunder'd merchant cannot tell
The names of pirates in whose hands he fell ;
But at the den of thieves he justly flies.
And every Algerine is lawful prize ;
No private person in the foe's estate
Can plead exemption from the public fate.
Yet Christian laws allow not such redress ;
Then let the greater supersede the less.
But let the abettors of the Panther's crime
Learn to make fairer wars another time.
Some characters may sure be found to write
Among her sons ; for 'tis no common sights
A spotted dam, and all her offspring white.
* See Introduction, p. 114; also Note VIII.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. S09
The savage, thou&h she saw her plea controurd.
Yet would not whoHy seem to quit her hold.
But offered fairly to compound the strife.
And judge conversion by the convert's life.
Tis true, she said, I think it somewhat strange.
So few should follow profitable change ;
For present joys are more to flesh and blood,
^Than a dull prospect of a distant good.
Twas well aUuded by a son of mine,
(I hope to quote him is not to purloin^)
Two magnets, heaven and earth, allure to bliss ;
The, larger loadstone that, the nearer this :
The weak attraction of the greater fails ;
We nod a while, but neighbourhood prevails ;
But when the greater proves the nearer too,
I wonder more your converts come so slow.
Methinks in those who firm with me remain.
It shews a nobler principle than gain. —
Your inference would be strong, theHind replied.
If yours were in efiect the suffering side ;
Your clergy's sons their own in peace possess.
Nor are their prospects in reversion less.
My proselytes are struck with awful dreads
Your bloody comet-laws hang blazing o'er their head ;
The' respite they enjoy but only lent,
Thebest they have to hope, protracted punishment.*
Be judge yourself, if interest may prevail.
Which motives, yours or mine, will turn the scale.
While pride and pomp allure, and plenteous ease.
That is, till man's predominant passions cease.
Admire no longer at my slow increase.
. * The penal laws, though suspended by the King^s Dedara*
tioa of Indulgence, were not thereby abrogated.
V0L.3L O^
aiO THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
, By education most have been misled ;
So tney believe, because they so were bred.
The priest continues what the nurse began^
And thus the child imposes on the man.
The rest I named before, nor need repeat ;
But interest is the most prevailing cheat.
The sly seducer both of age and youth ;
They study that, and think they study truth.
When interest fortifies an argument.
Weak reason serves to gain the will's assent
For souls, already warp'd, receive an easy bent
Add long prescription of establish'd laws.
And pique of honour to maintain a cause^
And shame of change, and fear of future ill.
And zeal, the blind conductor of the will ;
And chidr, among the still-mistaking crowd,
The fame of teachers obstinate and proud.
And, more than all, the private judge allow^
Disdain of fathers which the dance began.
And last, uncertain whose the narrower span.
The clown unread, and half-read gentleman.^
To this the Panther, with a scornful smile ; —
Yet still you travel with unwearied toil.
And range around the realm without controul, )
Among my sons for proselytes to prowl ; I
And here and there you snap some silly soul, j
You hinted fears of future change in state ;
Pray heaven you did not prophesy your fete !
Perhaps, you think your time of triumph near.
But may mistake the season of the year ;
The Swallow's fortune gives you cause to fear.
For charity, replied the matron, tell
What sad mischance those pretty birds befel.—
Nay, no mischance, the savage dame replied,
But want of wit in their unernng guide.
And eager haste, and gaudy hopes, and giddy pridi
* Note XII.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 211
Yet, wishing timely warning may prevail.
Make you the moral, and I'fi tell the tale.
* The Swallow, privileged above the rest
Of all the birds, as man's familiar guest.
Pursues the sun, in summer brisk and bold.
But wisely shuns the persecuting cold ;
Is well to chancels and to chimnies known,
Though *tis not thought she feeds on smoke alone.
From hence she has Ibeen held of heavenly line,
Sndued with particles of soul divine.
This merry chorister had long possess'd
Her summer-seat, and feather'd well her nest ;
Till frowning skies began to change their cheer.
And time turned up the wrong side of the year ;
The shading trees began the ground to strow
With yellow leaves, and bitter blasts to blow.
Sad auguries of winter thence she drew,
Which by instinctj or prophecy, she knew ;
When prudence wam'd her to remove betimes.
And seek a better heaven, and warmer climes. .
Her sons were summon'd on a steeple's height.
And, call'd in common council, vote a flight.
The day was nam'd, the next that should be fair ; ^
All to the general rendezvous repair, f
They try their fluttering wings^ and trust them- i
selves in air. ^ ^
But whether upward to the moon they go.
Or dream the winter out in caves below.
Or hawk at flies elsewhere, concerns us not to
know.
Southwards you may be sure they bent their flight,
And harboiu''d in a hollow rock at night ;
Next morn they rose, and set up every sail ;
The wind was fair, but blew a mackrel gale ;
SI 2 THE HIND AND THE PANTHEB.
The sickly young sat shivering on the shore^
Abhorred siut-water never seen before.
And pray'd their tender mothers to delay
The passage, and expect a fairer day.
With these the Martin readily concurred,
A church-bigot, and church-believing bird ;
Of little body, but of lofty mind.
Round bellied, for a dignity designed,
And much a dunce, as Martins are by kind ;
Yet oft;en quoted canon-laws, and code.
And fathers which he never understood ;
But little learning needs in noble blood.
For, sooth to say, the Swallow brought him in.
Her household chaplain, and her next of kin ;
In superstition silly to excess.
And casting schemes by planetary guess ;
In fine, short-winc'd, unfit himself to fly.
His fear foretold foul weather in the sky.
Besides, a Raven fi-om a wither'd oak,*
Left; of their lodging, was observed to croak.
That omen liked him not ; so his advice
Was present safety, bought at any price ;
A seeming pious care, that cover'd cowardice.
To strengthen this, he told a boding dream.
Of rising waters, and a troubled stream.
Sure signs of anguish, dangers, and distress.
With something more, not lawful to express ;
By which he slify seem'd to intimate
Some secret revelation of their fate.
For he concluded, once upon a time.
He found a leaf inscribed with sacred rhyme.
Whose antique characters did well denote
The SibyPs hand of the Cumaean grot ;
The mad divineress had plainly writ,
A time should come, but many ages yet.
'^Sinistra cava prcedixU ab ilice Cornix.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 213
In which, sinister destinies ordain, ^
A dame should drown with all her feather'd train, \
And seas from thence be called the Chelidonian |
main.* ^
At this, some shook for fear ; the more devout
Arose, and bless'd themselves from head to foot.
*Tis true, some stagers of the wiser sort
Made all these idle wonderments their sport ;
They said, their only danger was delay.
And he, who heard what every fool could say.
Would never fix his thought, but trim his time
away.
The passage yet was good ; the wind, 'tis true,
Was somewhat high, but that was nothing new,
No more than usual equinoxes blew.
The sun, already from the Scales declined.
Gave little hopes of better days behind.
But change from bad to worse, of weather and
wind.
Nor need they fear the dampness of the sky
Should flag their wings, and hinder them to fly,
TTwas only water thrown on sails too dry.
But, least of aU, philosophy presumes
Of truth in dreams, from melancholy fumes ;
Perhaps the Martin, housed in holy ground.
Might think of ghosts, that walk their midnight
round.
Till grosser atoms, tumbling in the stream
Of fancy, madly met, and clubb'd into a dream :
As little weight his vain presages bear.
Of ill efiect to such alone who fear ;
Most prophecies are of a piece with these.
Each rl^ostradamus can foretel with ease :
* Alluding to the fiible of Icarus :
Jcarut Icariis nomina fecit aquU*.
Chelidoniaii^ from xfi^Mf, a swaUow^
214 THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
Not naming persons, and confounding times.
One casual truth supports a thousand lying rhymes.
The advice was true ; but fear had seized the most,
And all good counsel is on cowards lost.
The question crudely put to shun delay,
'Twas carried by the major part to stay.
His point thus gain'd, Sir Martin dated thence
His power, and fix^m a priest became a prince.
He order'd all things with a busy care.
And cells and refectories did prepare.
And large provisions laid of winter fare ;
But, now and then, let fall a word or two, ^
Of hope, that heaven some miracle might show, V
And, for their sakes, the sun should backward go, )
Against the laws oiF nature upward climb.
And, mounted on the Ram, renew the prime ;
For which two proofs in sacred story lay.
Of Ahaz' dial, and of Joshua's day.
In expectation of such times as these,
A chapel housed them, truly called of ease ;
For Martin much devotion did not ask ;
They pray'd sometimes, and that was all their task.
It happen'd, as beyond the reach of wit
Blind prophecies may have a lucky hit.
That this accomplish'd, or at least in part.
Gave great repute to their new Merlin's art.
Some Swifts,* the giants of the Swallow kind.
Large limb'd, stout-hearted, but of stupid mindj
(For Swisses, or for Gibeonites design'd,)
These lubbers, peeping through a broken pane.
To suck fresh air, survey'd the neighbouring plain,
And saw, but scarcely could believe their eyes.
New blossoms flourish and new flowers arise ;
As God had been abroad, and, walking there.
Had left his footsteps, and reform'd the year.
* Otherwise called martlets* Drybbn.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 215
The sunny hillsk from far were seen to glow -^
^With glittering beams, and in the meads below L
The burnish'd brooks appear'd with liquid gold f
to flow.
At last they heard the foolish Cuckow sing,
Whose note proclaimed the holiday of spring.
No longer doubting, all prepare to fly,
And repossess their patrimonial sky.
The priest before them did his wings display ;
And that good omens might attend their way
As luck would have it, *twas St Martin's day
Who but the Swallow now triumphs alone ?
The canopy of heaven is all her own ;
Her youthful offspring to their haunts repair.
And glide along in glades, and skim in air.
And dip for insects in the purling streams.
And stoop on rivers to refresh their wings.
Their mothers think a fair provision made.
That every son can live upon his trade.
And, now the careful charge is off their hands.
Look out for husbands, and new nuptial bands.
The youthful widow longs to be supplied ;
But first the lover is by lawyers tied.
To settle jointure-chimnies on the bride.
So thick they couple in so short a space.
That Martin's marriage-offerings rise apace.
Their ancient houses, running to decay.
Are furbish'd up, and cemented with clay.
They teem already ; store of eggs are laid,
Ana brooding mothers call Lucina's aid.
Fame spreads the news, and foreign fowls appear, ^
In flocks, to greet the new returning year, >-
To bless the founder, and partake the cheer. j
And now 'twas time, so fast their numbers rise.
To plant abroad and people colonies.
The youth drawn forth, as Martin had (Jesired,
(For so their cruel destiny required,)
SI€ THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
Were sent far off on an ill-fated day ;
The rest would needs conduct them on their way.
And Martin went, because he fear'd alone to stay.
So long they flew with inconsiderate haste^
That now their afternoon began to waste ;
And, what was ominous, that very mom
The sun was enter'd into Capricorn ;
Which, by their bad astronomer's account.
That week the Virgin balance should remount.
An infant moon ecUpsed him in his way^
And hid the small remainders of his day.
The crowd, amazed, pursued no certain mark.
But birds met birds, and jostled in the dark.*
Few ^ind the public, in a panic fright.
And fear increased the horror of the night.
Night came, but unattended with repose ;
Alone she came, no sleep their eyes to dose ;
Alone, and black she came ; no friendly stars arose.
What should they do, beset with dangers round,!
No neighbouring dorp,f no lodging to be found, >
But bleaky plains, and bare, unhospitable ground ? J
The latter brood, who just began to fly,
Sick-feather'd, and unpractised in the sky.
For succour to their helpless mother call :
She spread her wings; some few beneath them
crawl ;
She spread them wider yet, but could not cover all.
To augment their woes, the winds began to move,
Debate in air for empty fields above.
Till Boreas got the skies, and pour'd amain
His rattling hailstones, mix'd with snow and rain.
The joyless morning late arose, and found ")
A dreadful desolation reign around, >-
Someburied in the snow ; some frozento the ground.)
• A parody on Lee's fiunous rant in *' CEdipus." ,
'^ May there ZK)t be a glimpse, one starry spark,
But gods meet gods, and jostle in the dark.*'
t An old Saxon word for a village.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 217
The rest were straggling still with death, and lay
The Crows and Ravens rights, an undefended prey ;
Excepting Martin's race ; for they and he
Had gain'd the shelter of a hollow tree ;
But, soon discovered by a sturdy clown.
He headed all the rabble of a town,
And finish'd them with bats, or poll'd them down,
Martin himself was caught alive, and tried ^
For treasonous crimes, because the laws provide v
No Martin there in winter shall abide. )
High on an oak, which never leaf shall bear;
He breathed his last, exposed to open air ;
And there his corpse unbless'd is hanging still.
To shew the change of winds with his prophetic
bill—*
'the patience of the Hind did almost fail.
For well she mark'd the malice of the tale ;
Which ribald art their church to Luther owes ; ^
In malice it began, by malice grows ; r
He sow'd the serpent's teeth, an iron harvest rose. 3
But most in Martin's character and fate.
She saw her slander'd sons, the Panther's hate.
The people's rage, the persecuting state :
Then said, I take the advice in friendly part ;
You clear your conscience, or at least your heart.
Perhaps you fail'd in your foreseeing skill.
For swallows are unlucky birds to kill :
As for my sons, the family is bless'd,
Whose every child is equal to the rest ;
No church reform'd can boast a blameless line.
Such Martins build in yours, and more than mine ;
* It is a vulgar idea, that a dead swallow, suspended in the
air, intimates a change of wind, by turning its bill to the point
from which it is to blow;
t Note XIV,
218 THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
Or else an old fenatic author lies,
Who summ'd their scandals up by centuries.*
But through your parable I plainly see
The bloody laws, the crowd's barbarity ;
The sunshine, that offends the purblind sight.
Had some their wishes, it would soon be nightf
Mistake me not ; the charge concerns not you ;
Your sons are malecontents, but yet are true.
As far as non-resistance makes them so ;
But that's a word of neutral sense you know,
A passive term, which no relief will bring.
But trims betwixt a rebel and a king.—
Rest well assured, the Pardelis replied.
My sons would all support the regal side.
Though heaven forbid the cause by battle should
be tried. —
The matron answer'd with a loud Amen,
And thus pursued her arguments again :— -
If, as you say, and as I hope no less.
Your sons will practise what yourselves profess
What angry power prevents our present peace
The Lion, studious of our common good.
Desires (and king's desires are ill withstood)
To join our nations in a lasting love ;
The bars betwixt are easy to remove.
For sanguinary laws were never made above4
* Century White. See Note XV.
t The Hind intimates^ that, as the sunshine of Catholic pros->
perity, in the fable, depended upon the king's life, there existed
those among her enemies, who would fain have it shortened. But
from this insinuation she exempts the church of England, and
only expresses her fears, that her passive principles would in-
cline her to neutrality.
t Note XVI.
THE HIND AND THlfi PANTHER. 219
If you condemn that prince of tyranny,
Whose mandate forced your Gallic friends to fly,*
Make not a worse example of your own.
Or cease to rail at causeless rigour shown,
And let the guiltless person rarow the stone.
His blunted sword your suflering .brotherhood
Have seldom felt ; he stops it short of I^kkI :
But you have ground the jmr^cuting knife,
And set it to a razor-edge on life.
Cursed be the wit, which cruelty refines.
Or to his father's rod the scorpion joins ! •
Your finger is more gross than the great monarch's
loins.
But you, perhaps, remove that bloody note.
And stick it on the first reformer's coat.
Oh, let their crime in long oblivion sleep ;
'Twas theirs indeed to make, 'tis yours to keep !
Unjust, or just, is all the question now ;
Tis plain, that, not repealing, you allow.
To name the Test would put you in a rage ;
You charge not that on any former age.
But smile to think how innocent you stand,
Arm'd by a weapon put into your hand.
Yet still remember, that you wield a sword.
Forged by your foes against your sovereign lord ;
Design'd to hew the imperial cedar down.
Defraud succession, and disheir the crown.f
To abhor the makers, and their laws approve.
Is to hate traitors, and the treason love.
* Louis XIV. whose revocation of the Edict of Nantes has
been so frequently alluded to. As that monarch did not pro«
ceed to the extremity of capital punishment against the Hugue-*
nots, Dryden contends his edicts were more merciful than the
penal laws, by which mass-priests are denounced as guilty of high
treason.
t Note XVII.
220 THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
What means it else, which now your children say,
We made it not, nor will we take away ?
Suppose some great oppressor had, by slight
Of law, disseised your brother of his right.
Your common sire surrendering in a fright ;
Would you to that unrighteous title stand.
Left by the villain's will to heir the land ?
More just was Judas, who his Saviour sold ;
The sacrilegious bribe he could not hold,
Nor hang in peace, before he rendered back the
gold.
What more could you have done, than now you do.
Had Oates and Bedlow and their plot been true ?
Some specious reasons for those wrongs were
found ;
The dire magicians threw their mists around,
And wise men walk'd as on enchanted ground.
But now when time has made the imposture plain,
(Late though he folio w'd truth, and limping held]
her train,)
What new delusion charms your cheated eyes'
again ?
The painted harlot might a while bewitch,
Butwhy thehag uncased, and all obscene with itch?*
The first reformers were a modest race ;
Our peers possess'd in peace their native place.
And when rebellious arms o'erturn'd the state.
They suffer'd only in the common fate ;
* The poet alludes to the enchantress Duessa, who, when dis-
robed by Prince Arthur, was changed from a beautiful woman
into
A loathly wrinkled hag, ill-favour'd, old.
Whose secret filth good manners biddeth not be told*
Spenser's Fairy Queens Book 1. Canto a
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 221
But now the sovereign mounts the regal chair,
And mitred seats are full, yet David's bench is bare.*
Your answer is, they were not dispossest ;
They need but rub their metal on the Test
To prove their ore ; — ^^twere well if gold alone
Were touched and tried on your discerning stone ;
But that unfaithful test unsound will pass
The dross of Atheists, and sectarian brass ;
As if the experiment were made to hold
For base production, and reject the gold.
Thus men ungodded may to places rise.
And sects may be preferr'd without disguise ;
Ho danger to the church or state from these.
The Papist only has his writ of ease.
!No gainful office gives him the pretence
To grind the subject, or defraud the prince.
Wrong conscience, or no conscience, may deserve
To thrive, but ours alone is privileged to starve.
Still thank yourselves, you cry ; your noble race
We banish not, but they forsake the place ;
Our doors are open : — true, but ere they come.
You toss your 'censing test, and fume the room ;
As if 'twere Toby's rival to expel.
And fright the fiend who could not bear the smelLf
To this the Panther sharply had replied.
But having gain'd a verdict on her side.
She wisely gave the loser leave to chide ;
♦ Note XVIII.
f The fiend in the Book <ff Tobit^ who haunted Raguel's daugh-
ter, is firi^hted away, by Aunigation, by Tobias her bridegroom.
Thus, Milton :
Better pleased
Than Asmodeus with the fishy fume*
That drove him, though enamour*d, from the spouse
Of Tobit*8 son, and with a vengeance sent
From Media post to Egypt, thore fiist bound.
Par. Loit, Book IV.
222
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER*
Well satisfied to have the but andpeace,^
And for the plaintiff *s cause she cared tlie less.
Because she sued in forma pauperis ;
Yet thought it decent something should be said,
For secret guilt by silence is betray*d ;
So neither granted all, nor much denied.
But answer'd with a yawning kind of pride :
Methinks such terms of profier'd peace you bring,
As once JLneas to the Italian king :f
By long possession all the land is mine ;
You strangers come with your intruding
To share my sceptre, which you call to "
You plead fike him an ancient pedigree.
And claim a peaceful seat by fate's decree.
In ready pomp your sacrificer stands,
To unite the Trojan and the Latin bands ;
And, that the league more firmly may be tied.
Demand the fair Lavinia for your bride. ^
Thus plausibly you veil the intended wrong.
But still you bring your exiled gods along ;
And will endeavour, in succeeding space.
Those household puppets on our hearths to place.
Perhaps some barbarous laws have been preferred ;
I spake against the Test, but was not heard.
These to rescind, and peerage to restore.
My gracious sovereign would my vote
I owe him much, but owe my conscience
Conscience is then your plea, replied the dame,
Which, w.ell-informed, will ever be the same.
But yours is much of the camelion hue.
To change the dye with e^iy distant view.
aeara.
e, )
implore ; >•
5 more. — j
* A proverbial expression, taken from our author^s alteration
of the *' Tempest." See Vol. III. p. 176.
t iEneid, lib. vii. 1. 213.
THE HIND AND THIT PANTHER* 223
When first the Lion sat witib awfiil sway.
Your conscience taught your duty to obey : *
He might have had your statutes and your Test ;
No conscience but of subjects was profess'd.
He found your temper, and no farther tried.
But on that broken reed, your church, relied.
In vain the sects essay'd their utmost art,
With offered treasure to espouse their part ;
There treasures were a bribe too mean to move
his heart.
But when, by long experience, you had proved.
How far he could forgive, how well he loved ;
(A goodness that excell'd his godlike race.
And only short of heaven's unbounded grace ;
A flood of mercy that o'erflow'd our isle.
Calm in the rise, and fruitful as the Nile,)
Forgetting whence your Egypt was supplied.
You thought y6ur sovereign bound to send the tide;
Nor upward look'd on that immortal spring.
But vainly deem'd, he durst not be a king.
Then Conscience, unrestrained by fear, began •
To stretch her limits, and extend the span ;
Did his indulgence as her gift dispose.
And made a wise alliance with her foes.f
Can Conscience own the associating name.
And raise no blushes to conceal her shame ?
For sure she has been thought a bashful dame.
♦ Note XIX.
t Two pamphlets were published^ urging the necessity of an
alliance between the Church of England and the Dissenters;
and warmly exhorting the latter not to be cajoled to serve the
purposes of their joint enemies of Rome^ by the pretended tole-
ration which was held out as a snare to them. One of these, call-
ed '^ Reflecti<)ns on the Declaration of Indulgence/* is ascribed
to Burnet ; the other, called ^* Advice to Dissenters/' is supposed
to come fh)m the masterly pen df Hali&x.
224 THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
But if the cause by battle should be tried^
You grant she must espouse the regal side ;
O, Proteus conscience, never to be tied !
What Phoebus from the Tripod shall disclose.
Which are, in last resort, your friends or foes ?
Homer, who leam'd the language of the sky.
The seeming Gk)rdian knot would soon untie ;
Immortal powers the term of Conscience know,*
But Interest is her name with men beloiv. —
Conscience or Interest be't, or both in one,
(The Panther answer'd in a surly tone ;)
The first commands me to maintain the crown.
The last forbids to throw my barriers down.
Our penal laws no sons of yours admit.
Our Test excludes your tribe fix)m benefit.
These are my banks your ocean to withstand.
Which, proudly rising, overlooks the land.
And, once let in, with unresisting sway.
Would sweep the pastors and their flocks away.
Think not my judgment leads me to comply
With laws unjust, but hard necessity :
Imperious need, which cannot be withstood.
Makes ill authentic, for a greater good.
Possess your soul with patience, and attend ;
A more auspicious planet may ascend ;f
Good fortune may present some happier tinie.
With means to cancel my unwilling crime ;
(Unwilling, witness all ye powers above !)
To mend my errors, and redeem your love :
That little space you safely may allow ;
Your all-dispensing power protects you now.ij:
t Note XX.
X The power claimed^ and liberally exercised^ by the kuig, of
dispensing with the penal statutes.
TBE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 325
Hold^ said the Hind, ^tis needless to ex|^D ;
You would postpone me to another reign ;
Till when, you are content to be unjust :
Your part is to possess, and mine to trust;
A fair exchange proposed^ of future chance
For present profit and inheritance.
Few words will serve to finish our dispute ;
Who will not now repeal, would persecute.
To ripen green revenge your hopes attend.
Wishing that happier planet would ascend.*
For shame, let Conscience be your plea no more ;
To will hereafter, proves she might before ;
But she's a bawd to gain, and holds the door.
Your care about your banks infers a fear f
Of threatening floods and inundations near ;
If so, a just reprise would only be
Of what the land usurp'd upon the sea ;
And all your jealousies but serve to show.
Your ground is, like your neighbour-nation, low.
To intrench in what you grant unrighteous laws,
Is to distrust the justice of your cause ;
And argues, that the true religion lies
In those weak adversaries you despise.
Tyrannic force is that which least you fear ;
The sound is frightful in a Christian's ear :
Avert it, heaven ! nor let that plague be sent
To us from the dispeopled continent.
But piety commands me to refrain ;
Those prayers are needless in this monarch's reign.
Behold how he protects your friends oppressed, ^
Beceives the banish'd, succours the distress'd ! { >-
Behold, for you may read an honest open breast. }
* That is^ wishing the accession of the Prince of Orange^ then
the presumptive heir of the crown,
t Note XXI.
X The refugee Huguenots. See Note XXII.
VOL. X. P
S26 THE HIND AKD THE PAN9HES*'
He stands in daylight, and disdmns to
An act, to which by honour he is tied*
A generous, laudable, and kingly pride.
Your Test he would repeal, his peers restore ;
This when he says he means, he means no more.
Well, said the Panther, I believe him just, ..
And yet ■ I
—And yet, 'tis but because you must ; f
You would be trusted, but you would not trusts— *
The Hind thus briefly ; and disdain'd to enlarge
On power of kings, and their superior char^.
As heaven's trustees before the people's choice ; )
Though sure the Panther did not much rejoice >
To hear those echoes given of her once loyal voice^ )
The matron wooed her kindness to the last.
But could not win ; her hour of grace was past
Whom', thus persisting, when she could not bring
To leave the Wolf, and to believe her kiiig.
She gave her up, and fairly wished her joy
Of her late treaty with her new ally.
Which well she hoped would more successful prove,
Than was the Pigeon's and the Buzzard's love. '
The Panther asked, what concord there could be
Betwixt two kinds whose natures disagree ?
The dame replied : 'Tis sung in every street.
The common chat of gossips when they meet ;
But, since unheard by you, 'tis worth your while
To take a wholesome tale, though told in homely
style.
A plain good man, whose name is understood,*
(So few deserve the name of plain and good,)
Of three fair lineal lordships stood possess'd.
And lived, as reason was, upon the best.
* James II. See Note XXI II.
TmS13Ltm> AND THB PANTHEB- 227
Iimred to hardships from his early youth,
Much had he done and suffered ror his truth :
At land and sea, in many a doubtful fight.
Was never known a more adventurous knightj
Who oftener drew his sword, and always for
right.
As fortiltie would, (his fortune came, though late,)
He took possession of his just estate ;
^CM" rack'd his tenants with increase of rent,
Nor lived too sparing, nor too largely spent,
But overlooked his hinds ; their pay was just.
And ready, for he scorn'd to go on trust :
Slow to resolve, but in performance quick ;
So true, that he was awkward at a trick—
.For little souls on little shifts rely, ^
And cowards arts of mean expedients try ; >
The noble mind will dare do any thing but lie. J
false friends, his deadliest foes, could find no way.
But shews of honest bluntness, to betray ;
That unsuspected plainness he believed ;
He look'd into himself, and was deceived.
Some lucky planet sure attends his birth,
Or heaven would make a miracle on earth ;
Fot prosperous honesty is seldom seen
To bear so dead a weight, and yet to win.
It looks as fate with nature's law would strive,
To show plain-dealing once an age may thrive ;
And, when so tough a frame she could not bend,
Exceeded her commission, to befriend.
This grateful man, as heaven increased his store.
Gave God again, and daily fed his poor.
His house with all convenience was purvey M ;
The rest he found, but raised the fabric where be
pray 'd ; *
* The Catholic chapel in Whitehall.
228 THE HIND AND THE PANTHEB.
And in that sacred place his beauteous wife
Employ'd her happiest hours of holy life.
Nor did their alins extend to those alone^
Whom common faith more strictly made their own ;
A sort of Doves * were housed too near their hall,
Who cross the proverb, and abound with gall.
Though some, 'tis true, are passively inclined.
The greater part degenerate from thdr kind ;
Voracious birds, that hotly bill and breed.
And largely drink, because on salt they feed.
Small gain from them their bounteous owner
draws ;
Yet, bound by promise, he supports their cause.
As corporations privileged by laws.
That house, which harbour to their kind affords,
Was built long since, God knows, for better birds ;
But fluttering there, they nestle near the throne,
And lodge in habitations not their own.
By their high crops and corny gizzards known.
Like Harpies, they could scent a plenteous board,
Then to be sure they never fail'd their lord :
The rest was form, and bare attendance paid ;
They drunk, and eat, and grudgingly obeyed.
The more they fed, they raven'd still the more;
They drain'd from Dan, and left Beersheba poor.
All this they had by law, and none repined ;
The preference was but due to Levi's kind :
But when some lay-preferment fell by chance.
The gourmands made it their inheritance.
When once possess'd, they never quit their claim,
For then 'tis sanctified to heaven's high name ;
And hallow'd thus, they cannot give consent.
The gift should be profaned by worldly manage-
ment.
♦ The clergy of the church of England, and those of Lopdon
in particular. See Note XXIV.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 229
Their flesh was never to the table served.
Though 'tis not thence inferred the birds werestarved ;
But that their master did not like the food.
As rank, and breeding melancholy blood.
Nor did it with his gracious nature suit,
E*en though they were not doves, to persecute :
Yet he refused, (nor could they take offence,)
Their glutton kind should teach him abstinence.
Nor consecrated grain their wheat he thought.
Which, newfrom treading, in theirbills theybrought ;
But left his hinds each in his private power.
That those who like the bran might leave the flower.
He for himself, and not for others, chose.
Nor would he be imposed on, nor impose ;
But in their faces his devotion paid, "1
And sacrifice with solemn rites was made, ^
And sacred incense on his altars laid. 3
". Besides these jolly birds, whose corpse impure
Repaid their commons with their salt manure.
Another farm he had behind his house.
Not overstocked, but barely for his use ;
Wherein his poor domestic poultry fed.
And from his pious hands received their bread.*
Our pamper'd Pigeons, with malignant eyes.
Beheld these inmates, and their nurseries ;
Though hard their fare, at evening, and at morn,
(A cruise of water and an ear of corn,)
Yet still they grudged that modicum^ and thought
A sheaf in every single grain was. brought.
Fain would they filch that little food away.
While unrestrain'd. those happy gluttons prey ;
And much they grieved to see so nigh their hall.
The bird that warn'd St Peter of his fall ;t
* The Catholic clergy, maintained by King James.
f The cock is made an emblem of the regular clergy of Rome,
on account of their nocturnal devotions and matins.
2S0 THi: HIND AKD THE PANTHER
That he should raise his mitred crest on high.
And clap his wings, and call his family
To sacred rites ; and vex the Ethereal powers
With midnight matins at uncivil hours ;
Nay more, his quiet neighbours should molest.
Just in the sweetness of their morning rest.
Beast of a bird, supinely when he might
Lie snug and sleep, to rise before the light !
What if his dull forefathers used that cry.
Could he not let a bad example die ?
The world was fall'n into an easier way ;
This age knew better than to fast and pray.
Good sense in sacred worship would appear.
So to begin, as they might end the year.
Such feats in former times had wrought the falls
Of crowing chanticleers in doister'd walls.
Expell'd for this, and for their lands, they fled ;
And sister Partlet, with her hooded head,*
Was hooted hence, because she would not pray
a-bed.
The way to win the restiff world to Gk)d,
Was to lay by the disciplining rod.
Unnatural fasts, and foreign fonns of prayer ;
Rdigion frights us with a mien severe.
'Tis prudence to reform her into ease.
And put her in undress, to make her please ;
A lively faith will bear aloft the mind.
And leave the luggage of good works behind.
Such doctrines in the Pigeon-house were taught;
You need not ask how wondrously they wrought ;
But sure the common cry was all for these.
Whose life and precepts both encouraged ease.
Yet fearing those alluring baits might fail.
And holy deeds o'er all their arts prevail.
* The Nuns,
THE lOatD AUD THE PANTHfiR.^ 231
(For vice/ though ii'ontless, and of hardened face^
Is daunted at the sight of awful grace,)
An hideous figure of their foes they drew,
Nor lines, nor looks, nor shades, nor colours true
And this grotesque design exposed topublicview. _
One would have thought it some Egyptian pieoe,^
With gard^i-gods, and barking ddities, r
More thick than Ptolemy has stuck the skies, j
All so perverse a draught, so far unlike.
It was no libel where it meant to strike.
Yet still the daubing pleased, and great and small.
To view the monster, crowded Pigeon-hall.
There Chanticleer was drawn upon his knees.
Adoring shrines, and stocks of sainted trees ;f
And by him, a mishapen, ugly race.
The curse of God was seen on every face J '
No Holland emblem could that malice mehd,{:
But still the worse the look, the fitter for a fiend.
The master of the farm, displeased to find
So much of rancour in so mild a kindj
Enquired into the cause, and came to know.
The passive church had struck the foremost blow;
With groundless fears and jealousies po^sest, 1
As if this troublesome intruding guest >-
Would drive the birds of Venus § from their nest. J
A deed his inborn equity abhorr'd ;
But interest will not trust, though God should plight
his word.
A law, the source of many future harms.
Had banish'd all the poultry firom the farms ;
* Note XXy.
f The worship of hnages^ charged upon the Romish Church
by Protestants as idolatrous.
t Note XXVI. J The Doves.
882 THE HIND AND THE PAOTHSB*
With loss of life, if any should be found
To crow or peck on this forbidden grounds
That bloody statute chiefly was designed
For Chanticleer the white, of clergy kind ;*
But after-malice did not long forget
The lay that wore the robe and coronetf
For them, for their inferiors and allies.
Their foes a deadly Shibboleth devise ;
By which unrighteously it was decreed, ^
That none to trust, or profit, should succeed, /
Who would not swallow first a poisonous wickedr
weed ; J
Or that, to which old Socrates was curst^ if
Or henbane juice to swell them till they burst.
The patron,, as in reason, thought it hard 1
To see this inquisition in his yard, >
By which the sov'reign was of subjects' usedebarr'd J
All gentle means he tried, which might withdraw
The effects of so unnatural a law ;
But still the ddve-house obstinately stood
Deaf to their own, and to their neighbours' good ;
And which was worse, if any worse could be^
Repented of their boasted loyalty ;
Now made the champions of a cruel cause.
And drunk with fumes of popular applause :
For those whom God to ruin has designed.
He fits for fate, and first destroys their mind.^
New doubts indeed they daily strove to raise.
Suggested dangers, interposed delays.
♦ The laws imposing the penalty of high treason on priests
saying mass in England.
t The Roman Catholic nobility, excluded from the House of
Peers by the imposition of the test.
Hemlock.
Quos Jupiter vuUperdere^ prius dementat.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 233
And emissary Pigeons had in store.
Such as the Meecan prophet used of yore,*
To whisper counsels in their patron's ear.
And veil'd their false advice with zealous fear.
The master smiled to see them work in vain.
To wear him out, and make an idle reign.
He saw, but sufFer'd their protractive arts.
And strove by mildness to reduce their hearts ;
But they abused that grace to make allies.
And fondly closed with former enemies ;
For fools are doubly fools, endeavouring to be wise.
After a grave consult what course were best.
One, more mature in folly than the rest.
Stood up, and told them, with his head aside.
That desperate cures must be to desperate ills applied.
And therefore, since their main impending fear ^
Was from the increasing race of Chanticleer,
Some potent bird of prey they ought to find,
A foe profess'd to him and all his kind :
Some haggard Hawk, who had her eyry nigh.
Well pounced to fasten, and well wing'd to fly ;
One they might trust, their com mon wrongs to wreak.
The Musquet and the Coystrel were too weak.
Too fierce the Falcon ; but, above the rest.
The noble Buzzardf ever pleased me best.
Of small renown, 'tis true ; for, not to lie.
We call him but a Hawk by courtesy.
I know he hates the Pigeon-house and Farm,
And more, in time of war, has done us harm.
But all his hate on trivial points depends ;
Give up our forms, and we shall soon be friends.
^ The foolish &ble of Mahomet accustoming a pigeon to pick
peas from his ear^ to found his pretensions to inspiration^ is well
Known*
t Gilbert Burnet, D. D. afterwards Bishop of Salisbury. See
Note XXVII.
234 THE HIND AND THE PANTHEK.
For Pigeons' flesh he seems not much to care ;
Cramm'd Chickens are a more delicious &re.
On this high potentate without ddbty^
I wish you would confer the sovereign sway ;
Petition him to accept the government.
And let a splendid embassy be sent
This pithy speech prevail'd, and all agreed^
Old enmities forgot, the Buzzard should succeed.
Their welcome suit was granted, soon as heard,
His lodgings fumish'd, and a train prepared.
With B's upon their breast, appointedfor his guard
He came, and, crown'd with great solemnity,
Gk)d save King Buzzard ! was the general ay.
A portly prince, and goodly to the sight.
He seem'd a son of Anach for his height.
Like those whom stature did to crowns prefix,
Black-brow'd, and bluff, like Homer's Jupiter ;
Broad-back'd, and brawny-built for love's delist,
A prophet form'd to make a female proselyte ;•
A theologue more by need than genial bent.
By breeding sharp, by nature confident.
Interest in all his actions was discem'd ;
More learn'd than honest, more a wit than learned ;
Or forced by fear, or by his profit led.
Or both conjoin'd, his native clime he fled ;
But brought the virtues of his heaven along,
A fair behaviour, and a fluent tongue.
And yet with all his arts he could not thrive.
The most unlucky parasite alive ;
Loud praises to prepare his paths he sent.
And then himself pursued his compliment ;
But by reverse of fortune chased away.
His gifts no longer than their author stay ;
* NoteXXVlIL
12
THE HIND AND THE PANTHEE- 235
He shakes the dust i^ainst the ungrateful rac6.
And leaves the st€3i<£ of ordures in the place.
Oft has he flatter'd and blasphemed the same ;
For in his rage he spares no sovereign's name.
The hero and the tyrant change their style.
By the same measure that tl^y frown or smile,*
When well received by hospitable foes.
The kindness he returns, is to expose ;
For courtesies, though undeserved and great.
No gratitude in felon* minds beget ;
As tribute to his wit, the churl receives the treat.
His praise of foes is venomously nice ;
So touch'd, it turns a virtue to a vice ;f
** A Greek, and bountiful, forewarns us twice."t
Seven sacraments he wisely does disown.
Because he knows confession stands for one ;
Where sins to sacred silence are convey'd,
: And not for fear, or love, to be betray'd.
But he, uncalled, his patron to controul.
Divulged the secret whispers of his soul ;
Stood forth the accusing Satan of his crimes.
And oflfer^d to the Moloch of the times.^
Prompt to assail, and careless of defence.
Invulnerable in his impudence.
He dares the world ; and, eager of a name.
He thrusts about, and jostles into fame.
Frontless, and satire-proof, he scowers the streets.
And runs an Indian-muck at all he meets. ||
So fond of loud report, that, not to miss
Of being known, (his last and utmost bliss,)
He rather would be known for what he is.
Note XXIX. t Note XXX.
' timeo Danaos el donaferentes, iEneid, II. lib*
Note XXXI. II Note XXXII.
236 THE HIND AND THE PAKTHXIl.
Such was, and is, the Captain of the Test,*
Though half his virtues are not here exprest
The modesty of fame conceals the rest.
The spleenful Pigeons never could create
A prince more proper to revenge their hate 5
Indeed, more proper to revenge, than save ; :
A king, whom in his wrath the Almighty gave :
For all the grace the landlord had allow'd.
But made the Buzzard and the Pigeons proud
Gave time to fix their friends, and to seduce the
crowd.
They long their fellow-subjects to inthral.
Their patron's promise into question call,f
And vainly think he meant to make them lords
of all.
False fears their leaders fail'd not to suggest.
As if the Doves were to be dispossest ;
Nor sighs, nor groans, nor goggling eyes did want,
For now the Pigeons too had leam'd to cant.
The house of prayer is stock'd with large increase;
Nor doors, nor windows, can contain the press.
For birds of every feather fill the abode ;
E'en atheists out of envy own a God,
And, reeking from the stews, adulterers come.
Like Goths and Vandals to demolish Rome.
That conscience, which to all their crimes was mute,
Now calls aloud, and cries to persecute :
No rigour of the laws to be released.
And much the less, because it was their Lord's re-
quest ;
* Note XXXIII.
t The promise to maintain the Church of England^ made in
James's first proclamation after his accession ; and which the
church party alleged he had now broken. Note XXXIV.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 287
They thought it great their sovereign to controul.
And named their pride, nobility of soul.
'Tis true, the Pigeons, and their prince elect.
Were short of power, their purpose to effect ;
But with their quills did all the hurt they could.
And cuflfd the tender Chickens from their food :
And much the Buzzard in their cause did stir.
Though naming not the patron, to infer.
With all respect, he was a gross idolater.*
But when the imperial owner did espy.
That thus they turn'd his grace to villainy,
Not suffering wrath to discompose his mind,
He strove a temper for the extremes to find.
So to be just, as he might still be kind ;
Then, all maturely weigh'd, pronounced a doom
Of sacred strength for every age to come.f
By this the Doves their wealth and state possess,
ISo rights infringed, but license to oppress :
Such power have they as factious lawyers long
To crowns ascribed, that kings can do no wrong.
But since his own domestic birds have tried
The dire effects of their destructive pride.
He deems that proof a measure to the rest.
Concluding well within his kingly breast.
His fowls of nature too unjustly were opprest.J
He therefore makes all birds of every sect
Free of his farm, with promise to respect
Their several kinds alike, and equally protect.
His gracious edict the same franchise yields
To all the wild increase of woods and fields.
And who in rocks aloof, and who in steeples builds :
♦ See note XXXIII.
t Declaration of indulgence. Note XXX Vf
t Note XXXVI.
238 THE HIND AND THE FANTHSK '
To Crows Uie like impartial grace aflK>rds,
And Choughs and Daws, and such republic birds ;
Secured with ample privilege to feed, .
Each has his district, and his bounds decreed ;
Combined in common interest with his own.
But not to pass the Pigeons' Rubicon.
Here ends the reign of this pretended Dove ;
All prophecies accomplished from above.
For ShUoh comes the 9ceptre to remove.
Reduced from her imperial high abode.
Like Dionysius to a private rod,*
The passive church, that with pretended gnce
Did her distinctive mark in duty place.
Now touch'd, reviles her Maker to his face.
What after happen^'d is not hard to guess ;
The small beginnings had a large increase.
And arts and wealth succeed the secret spoils
peace.
'Tis said, the Doves repented, though too late.
Become the smiths of their own foolish fate :f
Nor did their owner hasten their ill hour.
But, sunk in credit, they decreased in power ;
Like snows in warmth that mildly pass away.
Dissolving in the silence of decay. |
The Buzzard, not content with equal place.
Invites the feather'd Nimrods of his race.
To hide the thinness of their flock from sight,
And all together make a seeming goodly flight :
But each have separate interests of their own ;
Two Czars are one too many for a throne.
* The tyrant of Syracuse, who, after being dethroned, taught
a school at Corinth.
f Quisque stice for tunas fabcr, Sallust.
t Note XXXVII.
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 239
Nor can the usurper long abstain from food ;
Already he has tasted Pigeon's blood.
And may be tempted to his former fare,*
When this indulgent lord shall late to heaven repair.
Bare bentingtimes,andmoulting months may.come.
When, lagging late, they cannot reach their home ;
Or rent in schism, (for so their fate decrees,)
Liike the tumultuous college of the bees.
They fight their quarrel, by themselves opprest.
The tyrantsmiles below, and waits the fallingfea^t. —
Thus did the gentle Hind her fable end.
Nor would the PanUier blame it, nor commend ;
But, with affected yawnings at the close,
Seem'd to require her natural repose ;
For now the streaky light began to peep.
And setting stars admonish'd both to sleep.
The Dame withdrew, and, wishing to her guest
The peace of heaven, betook herself to rest :
Ten thousand angels on her slumbers wait.
With glorious visions of her future state.
■w^
• Note XXXVIII.
NOTES
ON
THE HIND AND THE PANTHER
PAET III.
Note I.
j§Hd mother Hubbard^ in her homely dress,
Has sharply blamed a British Lioness;
That queefi, whose Jeast thejactious rabble keep.
Exposed obscenely naked^ and asleep, — P. I97.
The poet^ in the beginning of this canto, anticipates the cen-
sure of those who might blame him for introducing into his fih
bles animals not natives of Britain, where the scene was laid.
He vindicates himself by the example of ^sop and Spenser.
The latter, in " Mother Hubbard's Tale/' exhibits at length Uie
various arts by which, in his time, obscure and infiunous charac-
ters rose to eminence in church and state. This is illustrated by
the parable of an Ape and a Fox, who insinuate themselves into
various situations, and play the knaves in all. At length,
Lo, where they spied, how, in a gloomy glade.
The Lion, sleeping, lay in secret shade ;
His crown and sceptre lying him beside.
And baring doft for heat his dreadful hide.
The adventurers possess themselves of the royal spoils, with
which the Ape is arrayed ; who forthwith takes upon himself the
dignity of the monarch of the beasts, and, by the counsels of the
Fox, commits every species of oppression, until Jove, incensed at
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 241
the disorders which his tyranny had introduced^ sends Mercury
to awaken the Lion from his slumber :—
Ariso ! said Mereurj, thou sluggish beast.
That hera lies seusdbBs, like the oozpae deoeast ;
The whilst thy kingtoin from thy head is rent.
And thy throne royal with dishonour blent
The Lion rouses himself, hastens to court, and avenges himself
of the usurpers. — There is no doubt, that, under this allegory,
Spenser meant to represent the exorbitant power of Lord Bur-
leigh; and he afterwards complains, that his verse occasioned his
falling into a '' mighty peer's displeasure." The Lion^ therefore,
whose negligence was upbraided by Mercury^ was Queen Eliza-
beth* Dryden calls her,
The queen, whose feast the factious rabble keep ;
because the tumultuous pope-burnings of 1680 and 1681 were so-
lemnized on Queen Elizabeth's night. The poet had probably^
since his change of religion, laid aside much of the hereditary
respect with which most Englishmen regard Queen Bess ; for, in
the pamphlets of the Romanists, she is branded as '^ a known
bastardy who raised this prelatic protestancy, called the church
of England, as a prop to supply the weakness of her title."*
Spenser's authority is only appealed to by Dryden as justify-
ing the introduction of lions and other foreign animals into a Bri-
tiui fable. But I observed in the introduction, that it also fur-
nishes authority, at least example, for those aberrations from the
character and attributes of his brute actors^ with which the critics
taxed Dryden ; for nothing in '' The Hind and the Panther," can
be more inconsistent with the natural quality of such animals,
than the circumstance of a lion, or any other creature, going to
sleep without his skin, on account of the sultry weather.
Note n.
You inorv my doctrine, and I need not say
I will not, but I cannot f disobey •
On tfdsjirm principie I ever stood;
He of my sons, who fails to make it good.
By one rebellious act renounces to my blood.^^V. 202.
The memorable judgment and decree of the university of Ox-*
ford^ passed in the Convocation 21st July, 168S, condenins, as he-
reticaJf all works which teach or infer the lawfidness of resistance
* A New Teat of the Chuich of EngUnd'a ^altj.
VOL. X. Q
242 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
to lawful governors^ even when they become tyrants^ or in case
of persecution for religion, or infringement on the laws of the
country, or in short, in any case whatever ; and after the various
authorities for these and other tenets have been given and denouD-
ced as false, seditious^ heretical, and jnipiou8» the decree concludes
with the following injunctions :—
''Lastly^ we command and strictly enjoin all and singular
readers, tutors* Oatechists, and others, to whom the care and trust
.of instruction of youth is committed, tliat they diligently instruct
.and ground their scholars in that roost necessary c&ctrin^^hich
in a manner is the badge and character of the church of England,
of submitting to every ordinance of man for the Lord's sake, whe*
ther it be to the king as supreme, or unto governors, as unto tbem
that are sent by him, for the punishment of evil doersj and fprtbe
praise of them that do well ; Teaching, that this submission and
obedience is to be clear, absolute, and without exception of any
state or order of men."
Note III.
Your sons of latitude^ that court your graee^ 1
J'houoh most resembling you infirm andjace, >
Are far the worst of your pretended race. j
And, but J blush your honesty to blot^
Pray God you prove thetn lawfully begot I
For in some Popish libels I have reaai
The Wolf lias oeen too busy in your ^(/.— P. 202-
During the latter years of the reign of Charles the Second, tbe
dissensions of the state- began to creep into the church. By far
the greater part of the clergy, influenced by the ancient union of
church and king, were steady in their adherence to the court in-
terest. But a party began to appear, who were distinguislied
from their brethren by the name o^ Moderate Divines, which they
assumed to themselves, and by that of Latitudinarians, which the
high churchmen conferred upon them. The chief amongst these
were Tillotson, Stillingfleet, and Burnet, They distinguished them-
selves by a less violent ardour for the ceremonies, and even the
government, of the church; for ail those particulars^ in short, by
which she is distinguished from other Protestant cohgregatioDS.
Stillingfleet carried these condescensions so far, as to admit in his
tract, called Irenicum, that, although the original church was set-
tled in a. constitution of bishops, priests, and deacons, yet as the
apostles made no positive law upon this subject, it remained free
to every Christian congregation to alter or to retain that form of
church government. In conformity with this opinion^ he^ in con-
junction witl| Tillotson and others, laid a plan for an accommoda-
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 243
Uon with the Presbyteriansy in 1668; and^ in order to this com-
prehension, he was willing to have made such sacrifices in the
point of ordination, &c. that the House of Commons took the
alarm, and passed a vote, prohibiting even the introduction of a
bill for such a purpose. As, on the one hand, the tenets of the
moderate clergy approximated those of the Calvinists; so^ on the
other^ their antipathy and opposition to the church of Rome was
more deeply rooted^ m proportion to the slighter value which they
attached to the particulars in which that of England resembled
her; It flowed naturally from this indulgence to the Dissenters^
and detestation of the Romanists, that several of the moderate
clergy participated deeply in the terrors excited by the Roman
Catholic plot* and looked with a favourable eye on the bill which
proposed to exclude the Duke of York from the throne as a pro-
fessor of that obnoxious religion. Being thus, as it were, an
opposition party, it cannot be supposed that the low-church di-
vines united cordially with their high-flying brethren in renoun*
cing the right of resisting oppression, or in professing passive obe-
dience to the royal will. They were of opinion, that there was a
mutual compact between the king and subject, and that acts of
tyranny^ on the part of the former, absolved the latter from his
allegiance. This was particularly inculcated by the Reverend Sa-
muel Johnson (See VoL IX. p. 369,) in *^ Julian the Apostate*"
and other writings which were condemned by the Oxford decree*
As the dangers attending the churqh^ from the measures of King
James^ became more obvious, and the alternative of resistance or
destruction became an approaching crisis, the low-church party
acquired numbers and strength from those who thought it better
at once to hold and assert the lawfulness of opposition to tyranny,
than to make professions of obedience beyond the power of hu-
man endurance to make good.
. This party was of course deeply hated by the Catholics, and
hence the severity with which they are treated by Dryden, who
objects to them as the illegitimate offspring of the Panther by the
Wolf, and traces to their Presbyterian origin their indifference to
the fasts and ascetic observances of the more rigid high-church-
men, and their covert disposition to resist regal domination. Their
adherence to the English communion he ascribes only to the lucre
of gain, and endeavours, if possible, to draw an odious distinction
between them and the rest of the church. Stillingfleet, whom this
motive could not escape, had already complained of Dryden's de-
signing any particular class of the clergy by a party name. " From
the common people, we come to church-men, to see how he uses
them. And he hath soon found out a faction amongst them, whom
he charges with juggling designs : but romantic heroes must be
allowed to make armies of a field of thistles, and to encounter
244 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHEB.
wbdmillf for giants. He would fiiin be the instniment to divide
our clergy, and to fill them with suspicions of one another. And
to this end he talks of men of latitudinarian stamp ; for it goes a
great way towards the making divisions, to be able to fiisten a
name of distinction among brethren ; this being to create jealousiei
of each other. But there is nothing should make them more care-
ful to avoid such names of distinction, than to observe how resdy
their common enemies are to make use of them, to create animo-
sities by them; which hath made this worthy gentleman to start
this different character of churchmen among us ; as thoagh there
were any who were not true to the principles of Ihe raorch of
EnglancC as by law established : If he knows them, he is better
acquainted with them than the answerer is ; for he professes to
know none such. But who then are these men of the latitudina-
nan stamp ? To speak in his own languaffCi they are a sort of e^
coteerers, who are for a concedo rather than a iMgo. And now, I
nope, they are all well explained ; ori in other words of his, they
are* saith he, for drawing the nonconformists to their party, i. e*
they are for having no nonconformists. And is this their crime?
But they would take the h^ulship of the church out of the king'i
hands : How is that possible ? They would (by his own descrip-
tion) be glad to see differences lessened, and ail that agree in the
same doctrine to be one entire body. But this is that which their
enemies fear, and this politician hath too much discovered ; ftr
then such a party would be wanting, which might be played upon
the church of England, or be brought to join with otners against
it. But how this should touch the king's supremacy, I cannot
imagine. As for his desiring loyal subjects to consider this mat^
ter, I hope they will* and the more for his desiring it ; and assure
themselves, that they have no cause to apprehend any juggling
designs of their brethren ; who, I hope, will always shew them-
selves to be loyal subjects, and dutiful sons of the church of Eng*
}and"'^Vindicati(m of ike Answer to some late Papers, p. IM.
Note IV.
Think youy your new French proselytes are come
To starve abroad^ because they starved at home f
Mark with what management their tribes dixidef
Some stick to you and some to f other side.
That many churches may for many mouths provide.i-'^F. 20S.
The Huguenot clergy, who took refuge in England after the re-
cal of the edict of Nantes, did not all adhere to the same Protestant
communion. There had been long in London what was called the
Walloon church, exclusively dedicated to this sort of worship.
NOTEa ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. S45
Many conformed to the church of England ; and> having submit-
ted to new ordination^ some of them obtained benefices ; others
joined in communion with the Presbyterians^ and dissenters of va-
rious kinds. Dryden insinuates, that had the church of England
presented vacancies sufficient for the provision of these foreign dU
vines, she would probably have had the honour of attracting them
all within her pale. The reformed clergy of France were fiir
firom being at any time an united body. '^ It might have been
expected^ says bumet^ ^^ that those unhappy contests between
Lutheransi Calvinists, Axminiansy and Anti-Arminians, with some
minuter disputes that have enflamed Geneva and Switzerland^
should have been at least suspended while they had a common
enemy to deal with^ against whom their whole force united was
scarce able to stand. But these things were carried on rather
with more eagerness and sharpness than ever"^^History of his
Onm Times, Book IV.
Note V.
Some sons of mine f mho bear upon their shield
Three steeples argent^ in a sable fields
Have sharply tax' d your converts, who, unfed.
Have foUowd you JOT miracles of bread. — P. 203.
The three steeples argent obviously alludes to the pluralities en«
Joyed^ perhaps by Stillingfleet, and certainly by some of the di-
vines of the established church, who were not on that account
less eager in opposing the intrusion of the Roman clergy, and
stigmatising those, who, at this crisis, thought proper to conform
to the royal faitJb. These converts were neither numerous nor
respectable ; and, whatever the Hind is pleased to allege in the
text, posterity cannot but suspect the disinterestedness of their
motives. Obadiah Walker, and a very few of the university of
Oxford, embraced the Catholic faith, conforming at the same
time to the forms of the church of England, as if they wished
to fulfil the old saying, of having two strings to one bow.— The
Earls of Perth and Melfortf with one or two other Scottish no-
bles, took the same step. Of the first, who must otherwise
have failed in a contest which he had with the Duke of Queens*
berry, it was wittily said by Halifax, that *^ his faith had made
him whole." And, in generalf as my countrymen are not usual-
ly credited by their brethren of England for an extreme disre-
gard to their own interest, the Scottish converts were supposed
to be peculiarly attracted to Rome by the miracle of the loaves
and fishes.* But it may be said for these unfortunate peers, that
j^ ^^^^^^^^^
* Blue-bonnet lords, a namerous store,
Whoee best example is, theyVe poor ;
246 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PAKTHEBJ
if thej were dazzled by the momentary sun-shine which gleamed
on the Catholic church, they scorned to desert her in the tempest
which speedily succeeded. Whereas, we shall do a kindness to
Lord Sunderland^ if we suppose that he became a convert to Po«
pery, merely from views of immediate interest, and not with the
premeditated intention of blinding and betraying the monardi,
who trusted him. Dryden must be supposedy however, chiefly in-
terested in the vindication of his own motives for a change of religioai
Note VI.
Such who themselves of no religion are.
Allured rvith gain^for any wiu declare $
Bare Ues, tvith bold assertions they can face.
But dint of argument is out of place ;
The grim logician puts them in ajnght^
*2'is easier far tofourish than toftgni.'-rPn 203.
Dryden here puts into the mouth of the Panther some of the
severe language which Stillingfleet had held towards him in the
ardour of controversy. He had, in direct allusion to our authoTj
(for he quotes his poetry,) expressed himself thus harshly : —
<' If I thought there were no such thing in the world as true
religion, and that tlie priests of all religions are aUke,^ I might
have been as nimble a convert, and as early a defender of the
royal papers, as any one of these champions. For why should not
one who believes no religion declare for any ? But since I do
verily believe, that not only there is such a thing as true religion,
but that it is only to be found in the books of the Holy Scripture,
I have reason to inquire after the best means of understanding
such books, and thereby, if it may be, to put an end to the con-
troversies of Christendom."t
'* But our grim logician proceeds from immediate and original
to concomitant causes, which he saith were revenge* ambition, and
covetousness. But the skill of logicians used to lie in proving;
but this is not our author's talent, for not a word is produced to
that purpose. If bold sayings, and confident declarations, will
Merely drawn in by hope of gains,
And reap their scandal for their pains ;
Half-stanred at court with expectation.
Forced to return to their Scotch nation.
Despised and scornM by every nation*
T?ie New Converts,
* This put the heathen priesthood in a flame.
For priests of all religions are the same.
Absalom and Aclutophcl^ Part I.
-f* A Vindication of the Answer to some late Papers.
}
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 247
do the business^ he is never unprorided ; but if you expect any
reason from him, he begs your pardon. He finds how ill the
character of a grim logician suits with his inclinations."* Again,
'' But if I will not allow his affirmations for proofs, for his part he
will not act the grim logician ; no, and in truth it becomes him so
ill, that he doth well to give it over.*'t And in the beginning of
liis '' Vindication/' alluding to a term used by the defender of the
Jihigfs papers, Stiliingfleet says, ** But lest I be again thought to
have a mind to flourish before I offer to pass^vas the champion
speaks in hia proper language^ I shall apply myself to the matter
heiore us." j:
Note VII. /
Thus our eighth Henry*s marriage they defame i
Divordnsfrom the church to wed the dame :
Though Largely proved, and hy himself profess* d^
That conscience, conscience would not let him rest.
For sundry years before he did complain^
And told his ghostly confessor his pain.T^F. 2t)4.
This is a continuation of the allusion to Stillingfleet's " Vindi^
cation," who had attempted to place Henry VIII.'s divorce from
Catherine of Arragon to the account of his majesty's tender conr-
science. A herculean task I but the readers may take it in the
words of the Dean of St Paul's :—
'^ And now this gentleman sets himself to ergoteering ^§ and
looks and talks like any grim logician, of the causes which pro-
duced iif and the effects which it produced. ' The schism led the
way to the Reformation, for breaking the unity of Christ's church,
which was the foundation of it : but the immediate cause of this,
which produced the separation of Henry VIH. from the church
of Romcy was the refusal of the Pope to grant him a divortoe from
« A Vindication of the Answer to some late Papers, p. 116^
'f Ibidemi p. 117.<^-StilliDgfleet plajrs on this expression of the grim logician^
in allusion to a passage of out author*8 ** Defence of the Duchess of York's
Paper ;** Where he says, ** That the kingdom of heavien is noi only for the wise
and learned,*' and that *' our Savionr^s disciples were but poor fisnermen ; and
we read but of dne of his apostles who was bred up at the feet of Gamaliel, and
that poor people have souls to save, as precious in the sight of God as the grim
Iqgician's.'** Dryden retorts it upon him in the text.
t A Vindication, &c. p. 1.
§ Ergoteering was a phrase used by Drydcn in his *' Defence of the Duchess's
Paper,*' and which StUlingfleet hwps upon throughout his ** Vindication."
S48 MOTES ON THE HIND AMD THB FAMTHBS.
hia fifl8t wife^ and togratUy hki desires in a diapeiUHiUoiifora Bfr^
cond marriage/
** Ergo f the first cause of the Reformation^ waa Ae aatisljriDg
an inordinate and brutal passion* But h he suce of thia ? if lie be
not^ it is a horrible calumny upon our church, upon King Hea^
ry the Eighth, and the whole nation, as I shall )prteently sheir.
No ; he confesses he cannot be sure of it ; for» saith he, no maa
can carry it so hi^h as the origtiud caiiae with any c eft aiaty .
And at the same time, he undertakes to demonatnlte.the iniBifr
diate cause to be Henry the Eighth's inordinate and bnital psi^
sion ; and afterwards affirms, as c6nfidently as if tie had deniMf-
strated it, that our Reformation was erected on the foandatioiii
of lust, sacrilege, and usurpation : Yet, saith he, the Idng oolr
knew whether it was conscience or love, or love alone, which
moved him to sue for a divorce. Then, by his favour, the
onlv oeuld know what was the immediate cailse of that^ whichbe
calls the schism. Well I but he offers at som^ probabilities, thst
lust was the true cause. Is Er^teering come to thia alroidy?
' But this we may say, if Conscience had any part in it, she liad
taken a long nap, of almost twenty years together, before she
awakened.' Doth he think that Conscience doth not take a longer
nap than this in some men, and yet they pretend to have it trulf
awakened at last ? What thinks he of late converts ? Cannot tbejr
be true, because conscience hath slept so long in th'em ? Must we
conclude in such cases, that some inordinate passion gives con-
science a jog at last ? ' So that it cannot be denied, he saith^ thst
an inordinate and brutal passion had a great share at l^ast in tlie
production of the schism.' How 1 cannot be denied 1 I say from
his own words it ought to be denied, for he confesses none conld
know but the king himself; he never pretended that the king con-
fessed it : How then cannot it be denied ? Yea, how dare any one
affirm it? Especially when the king himself declared in a solemn *
assembly, in these words, saith Hall, (as near, saith he, as I could
carry them away^) speaking of the dissatisfaction of his con-
science—'' For this only cause, I protest before God, and on the
word of a prince, I have asked counsel of the greatest clerks in
Christendom ; and for this cause I have sent for this legat, as s
man indifferent, only to know the truth, and to settle my con-
science, and for none other cause, as God can judge." And both
then and afterwards, he declared, that his scruples begaa upon the
French ambassador's making a question about the legitimacy of
the marriage, when the match was proposed between the Duke
of Orleans and his daughter ; and he affirms, that he moved it
himself in confession to the Bishop of Lincoln, and appeals to
him concerning the truth of it in open court"-— Vindication of the
Answer to some late Papers^ p. 109,
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHEK. 249
Note VII.
They say, that, look the Reformation round.
No treatise of humility isjound;
But if none were, the gospel does not want,
Our Saviour preach'd tt, and I hope you grant.
The sermon on the mount was Protestant, — P. 204.
ff
StQlingfleet concludes his " Vindication" with this admoniticHi
pa Dryden : " I would desire him not to end with such a bare-
&ced assertion of a thing so well known to be &\ae, viz. that there
18 not one original treatise written by a Protestant^ which hath
handled distinctly, and by itself^ that Christian virtue of humility.
Since within a few years (besides what bath beenprintedformerly)
such a book has been published in London. But he doth well
to bring it off with, ' at least that I have seen or heard of;' for such
books have not lain much in the way of his inquiries. Suppose
we had not such particular books, we think the Holy Scripture
gives the best rules and examples of humility of any book in the
world ; but I am afraid he should look on his case as desperate
if I send him to the Scripture, since he saith, ' Our divines do
th4|t as physicians do with their patients whom they think un«
curable, send them at last to Tunbridge- waters, or to the air of
Montpellier.' "
Dryden, in the Introduction, says, that the author of this work
-was called Buncombe ; but he is charged with inaccuracy by
Montague, who says his name is Allen. It seems to be admitted,
that his work is a translation from the Spanish. The real author
may have been Thomas Allen, rector of Kettering, in Northamp-
tonshire, and author of The Practice of a Holy L^e," 8vo. 1 710 ;
in the list of books subjoined to which, I find " The Virtue of
Humility, recommended to be printed by the late reverend and
learned Dr Henry Hammond," which perhaps may be the book
in question. A sort of similarity of sound between Duncombe
and Hammond may have led to Dryden's mistake. Alonzo
Rodriguez, of the Order of the Jesuits, wrote a book called
*' Exercicio de perfection y viriudes Christianas, Sevilla, iGOQ,"
which seems to be the work from which the plagiary was taken.
Note IX.
Unpitied Hudibras, your champion Jriend,
Has shewn how Jar your charities extend;
This lasting verse shall on his tomb he read,
" He shamed you living, and upbraids you dead."
P. 205.
Our author, in tlie preceding lines, had employed himself in
250 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTIFER.
repellinc the charge of his having changed his religion for the
saice of interest. His loaves, he says, had not been increased by
the change^ nor had his assiduity at court intimated any ckim up-
on royal favour : and in reference to her neglect of literary ment,
he charges on the church of England the fate of BuU^, a brother
poet. Of that truly original genius we only know, that his life
was spent in dependence, and embittered by disappointment. But
unless Dryden alludes to some incident now unknown, it is diffi-
cult to see how the church of England could have rerwarded his
merit. Undoubtedly she owed much to his forcible satire against
her lately triumphant rivals, the Presbyterians and Independ-
ents ; but, unless Butler had been in orders, how could the
churdi have recompensed his poetical talents ? The author of the
most witty poem that ever was written had a much more naturat
and immediate claim upon the munificence of the wittiest king
and court that ever was in England ; nor was his satire less ser^
viceable to royalty than to the established religion. The blame
of neglecting Butler lay therefore on Charles II. and his gay
courtiers, who quoted ** Hudibras" incessantly, and left the au-
thor to struggle with obscurity and indigence. The poet himself
has, in a fragment called ** Hudibras at Court," set forth both
the kind reception which Charles gave the poem, and his neglecl
of the author :
Now you must know, §ir Hudibras
With such perfections gifted was.
And so peculiar in his manner,
That all that saw him did him honour.
Among the rest, this prince was one.
Admired his conversation :
This prince, whose ready wit and parts
Conqucr'd both men and women's hearts,
Was so o*ercome with Knight and Ralph,.
That he could never claw it off;
He never eat, nor drank, nor slept
But Hudibras still near him kept ;
Nor would he go to church, or sd.
But Hudibras must with him go;
Nor yet to visit concubine.
Or at a city feast to dine.
But Hudibras must still be there.
Or all the fat was in the fire.
Now after all, was it not hard.
That he should meet with no reward.
That fitted out this knight and squire.
This monarch did so much admire ?
That he should never reimburse
The man for th* equipage, or horse,
Is sure a strange ungrateful thing,
Ib any body— -but a kiug«
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 261
But this good loDg, it seenM, wm taU,
By fome that were with him too bold*
If e*er you hope to gain your ends.
Caress your foes, and trust your friends.
Such were the doctrines that were taught.
Tin this^ unthinking king was brought
To leave his friends to starve and cUe,
A poor reward for loyalty !
Note X.
WUh odious atheist names you load your foes ;
Your Uberal clergy why did I expose ?
It neverJaHs in charities like those, — P. 205.
Our author here complains of the personal reflections which
Stillingfleet had cast upon him, particularly in the passage al-
ready quoted in Note Vll.y where he is expressly charged with
disbelieving the existence of '^ such a thing as true religion."
The second and third lines of the triplet are somewhat obscure.
The meaning seems to be, that Dryden, conscious of having given
the first ofPencey which we shall presently see was the case, jus-*
tifies his having done so, from personal abuse being the never-
failing resort of the liberal clergy. The application of the neuter
pronoun it, to the liberal clerg^, is probably in imitation of Vir-
gil's satirical construction,
Varium et inutaUle semper fcBrmna.
It happened in this controversy, as in most others, that both
parties, laying out of consideration the provocation which they
themselves had given, complained bitterly of the illiberality of
their antagonists. • Stillingfleet expatiates on the unhandsome
language contained in Dryden's Defence, and the passages which
he quotes are those which contain the exposure of the liberal
clergy mentioned in the text :
•• Yet as if Ihad been the sole contriver or inventor of all, he
bestows those civil and obliging epithets upon me, of disingenu'^
oussfotd-mouthedy and shuffling ; one of a virulent genius, of spite^
Jvl diligence, and irreverence to the royalJamUy ; of subtle calumny^
and sly aspersion ; and he adds to these ornaments of speech, that
I have a cloven Jbot, and my name is Legion ,• and that my An-
swer is an infamous libel, a scurrilous saucy pamphlet. Is this in-
deed the spirit of a new convert ? Is this the meekness and temper
you intend to gain proselytes by, and to convert the nation ? He
tells us in the beginning, that truth has a language peculiar to it-
self: I desire to be informed, whether these be any of the charac-
ters of it ? And how the language of reproach and evil-speaking
252 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
may be distinguished from it ? But zeal in a new convert is a ter-
rible thing ; for it not only bums^ but rages, like the eruptioniof
Mount iEtna ; it fills the air with noise and Bonoke^ and throwi
out such a torrent of liquid fire« that there is no standing befbie
it. The Answer alone was too mean a sacrifice for such a Hector
in controversy* AH that standeth in his way must fidll at his &et
He calls me Legion, that he may be sure to have number enough
to overcome. But he is a great proficient indeed, if he be su^
an exorcist, to cast out a whole legion already. But he hopes it
may be done without fasting and prayer,"— Fwitforfioii qfHn
Answer, p. 1.
Note XL
// now renmns for y<m to tchodgour chiUf
And ask why Gotts anointed he reviled /
A king and princess dead! Did Shimei worst f
P. 307.
The Hind having shewn that her influence over Dryden wm
such as to induce him to submit patiently^ and without vengeance
to injury and reproach, now calls upon die Panther to exert ber
authority in turn over Stillingfleet> for his irreverent attack upoa
the royal papers in favour of the Catholic reliffion. Upon a cire*
ful perusal of the Answers and Vindication of that great divinei
it is impossible to find any grounds for the charge of his hsTing
reviled Ciiarles II. or the Duchess of York ; on the contrary^ their
names are always mentioned with great respect^ and the contro-
versy is conducted strictly in conformity with the following b^
rited advertisement prefixed to the Answer :
" If the papers, here answered^ had not been so publicly dis-
persed through the nation^ a due respect to the name they beir^
would have kept the author from publishing any answer to them.
But because they may now fall into many hands, who^ without
some assistance, may not readily resolve some difficulties started
by them, he thought it not unbecoming his duty to God and the
king, to give a clearer light of the things contained in them. And
it can be no reflection on^the authority of a princcj for a private
subject to examine a piece of coin as to its just value, though it
bears his image and superscription upon it. In matters that con-
cern faith and salvation, we must prove all things, and hold fast
that which is good." — Advertisement to Answer to the Royal Pa-
pers*
Dryden, however, like the other Catholics, was pleased to in-
terpret the impugning and confuting the arguments used by the
king and duchess, into contempt and disrespect for their persons.
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHEH. 268
It was this forced constrnction on which was founded the prose-
cution of Sharpe and of the Bishop of London before the eccle-
■iastical commissioner. Sharpe having been defied to a polemi-
cal contest, by a paper handed into his pulpit, took occasion to
preach on the arguments contained in it ; and mentioned^ with
some contempt, persons who could be influenced by such weak
reasoning. This was interpreted as a reflection on the new con-
▼erts, and particularly on the king himself; and a mandate was
issued to the Bishop of London^ commanding that the obnoxious
preacher should be suspended. The issue of this matter has been
noticed in the notes on ** Absalom and Achitophel/' VoL IX. p. 302.
Note XIL
Tour son was wam*d, and tvisefy gave it o'er y
Bvt hef who counseWd him, has paid the score. — P. 207*
Dryden here triumphs in the conquest he nretends to have gain-
ed over Stillingfleet. In the beginning of the controversy, the
Dean of St Paul's had spoken dubiously of the authenticity of the
paper ascribed to the Duchess. In his Vindication, he fully ad-
mitted that point, and insisted only uj)on the weakness of the rea«
■ons which sne alleged for her conversion. This Dryden compares
to a defeated vessel, bearing away under the smoke of her last
broadside.
The person whom he states to have counselled Stillingfleet, is
probably Burnet ; and the score which he paid, is the severe de-
scription given of him under the character of the Buzzard. Dry-
den always seems to have viewed the Answer to the Royal Papers
as the work of more than one hand. In his '^ Defence," he af-
firms that the answerer's " name is Legion ; but though the body
be possessed with many evil spirits, it is but one of them that talks."
In the introduction to ''The Hind and Panther/' he says, he is in-
formed both of the ''author and supervisors of this pamphlet.'' He
conjectured, as was probably the truth, that a controversy of such
importance, and which required to be managed with such pecu-
liar delicacy» was not entrusted to a single individual. Besides
Burnet, it is probable that Tillotson, Tennison, and Patrick, all
of whom mingled in the polemical disputes of that period^ were
consulted by Stillingfleet on this important occasion.
Note XIII.
Perhaps you think your time of triumph near^
But may mistake the season of the year;
The Swallow's fortune gives you cause toJear.'-^F. 210.
The general application of the fable of the Swallows to the
(>
254 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHEB.
sliort gleam of Catholic prosperity during the reign of Jametll.
18 sufficiently manifest. But it is probable^ that a more dote and
intimate allusion was intended to an event which took place m
16S6, when the whole nation was in confusion at the mcaaures of
King James, so that the alarm had extended even to the Catholics,
who were the objects of his favour. We are told» there was a ge-
neral meeting of tlie leading Roman Catholics at the JSavoy, to
consult how this favourable crisis might be moat improved to the
advantage of their cause. Father Petre had the chair ; and at
the very opening of the debates, it appeared, that the majoritj
were more inclined to provide for their own security, than to
come to extremities with the Protestants. Notwithstanding the
Icing's zeal, power, and success, they were afraid to push the ex-
periment any farther. The people were already alarmed — the
soldiers could not be depended upon — the very courtiers melted
out of their grasp. All depended on a single life, which was al-
ready on the decline ; and if that life should last yet a few yean
longer, and continue as hitherto devoted to their interest and ser-
vice, they foresaw innumerable difficulties in their way, and anti-
cipated disappointments without end. Upon these consideratioDi,
therefore, some were for a petition to tlie king, that he would
only so far interpose in their favour, that their estates might be se-
cured to them by act of parliament, with exception from all em-
ployments, and liberty to worship God in their own way» in their
own houses. Others were for obtaining the king's leave to sell
their estates, and transport themselves and their effects to France.
All but Father Petre were for a compromise of some sort or
other ; but he disdained whatever had a tendency to moderation,
and was for making the most of the voyage while the sea was
smooth, and the wind prosperous. All these several opinions,
we are farther told, were laid before the king, who was pleased
to answer, '' That before their desires were made known to him,
he had provided a sure retreat and sanctuary for them in Irelandt
in case all those endeavours which he was making for their secu-
rity in England should be blasted, and which, as yety gave him
no reason to despair." *
It will hardly, I think, be disputed, that the fable of the Swal-
lows about to cross the seas refers to this consultation of the Ca-
tholics ; and it is a strong instance of Dryden's prejudice against
priests of all persuasions, that, in the character of the Martini
who persuaded the Swallows to postpone the flight, he decidedly
appears to have designed Petre, the king's confessor and prime ad-
viser in state matters, both spiritual and temporal. The name of
Martin may contain an allusion to the parish of St Martin's, in
* Ralph's History, VoL I. p. 933.— Secret Cousulu, &c of the Roman Pvtj,
p. 59.
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. S55
which Whitehall^ and the royal chapel, are situated. But should
this be thought fknciful, it is certain* that the portrait of this vain,
presumptuous, ambitious, bigotted Jesuit, who was in keen pur-
suit of a cardinal's cap, is exactly that of the Martin :
A diurch begot, and church believing bird.
Of little body, but of lofty mind.
Round-bellied, for a dignity dengn'd.
Two marked circumstances of resemblance conclude the inu-
endo,— -his noble birth, and superficial learning :
But little learning needs in noble blood.*
It may be doubted, whether the reverend father was highly plea-
Med with this sarcastic description, or whether he admitted readi-
ly the apology, that the poet, speaking in the character of the
heretical church, was obliged to use Protestant colouring.
The close correspondence of the &ble with the real events may
be further traced, and admit of yet more minute illustration :
The Raven, from the withered oak,
L^ of their lodging,! ■
may be conjectured to mean Tennison, within whose parish White-
ball was situated, and who stood in the front of battle duruig all
the Roman Catholic controversy. As Petre is the Martin who
'persuaded the Catholics not to leave the kingdom, his prepara-
tions for maintainuig their ground there are also noticed :
He order*d all things with a busy care,
And cells and refectories did prepare.
And large provisions laid of winter fare.
This alludes to the numerous schools and religious establish-
ments which the Jesuits prepared to establish tliroughout £ng-
land.t The chapel which* housed them is obviously the royal
* ** One Pctre, descended from a noble family ; a man of no learning, nor
any way famed fur his nrtue, but who made up idl in boldness and zeal, was the
Jesuit of them all, that seemed animated with the most courage." — Burket.
•f '* We have," says one of the order, ** a good while begun to get footing in
England. Wtt teacli humanity at Lincoln, Norwich, and York. At Warwick,
wc have a public chapel sccurol from all injuries by the king's soldiers ; we have
mlso bought some houses of the city of Wiggom, in the province of Lancaster.
The Cafiiolic cause very niudi increaseth. in some Catholic churches, upon
holidays, above 1500 are always numbered present at tlie sermon. At London,
likewise, tilings succeed no won>c. Every holiday, or preaching, people arc so
frt'i|Utint, that many of the chapels caonot contain them. Two of our fathers.
256 NOTES ON THE BIND AND THE PANTHER.
chapel, where the priests were privileged to exercise their func-
tions even during the subsistence of the penal laws. The tran-
sient gleam of sunshine which invited the Swallows forth from
their retirement, is the Declaration of Indulgence, in oomequence
of which the Catholics assumed the o^n and general exercise of
their religion. The Irish Catholics^ with the sanguine Talbot at
dieir head, may be the first who bailed the imaginary return of
spring ; they are painted as
——Swifts, the gianti of the Swallow kind.
Large Umb'd, stout hearted, but of stupid mind.
I cannot help thinkins^ that our author^ still speaking in the
character of the Engliw churchy describes himself as the '^ fiN^
ish Cuckow,** whose premature annunciation of springs comple-
ted the SwallowsT delusion. Perhaps he intended to mitigate
the scornful description of Petre, by talking of himself also ai
a Protestant would have talked of bun. The foreign priests and
Catholic officers, whom hopes of promotion now brought into Eng-
land, are pointed out by the *' foreign fowl," who came in flodu.
To blesi the founder, and paitake the dieer.
The fiible concludes in a prophetic strain, by indicating die
calamities which were likely to overwhelm the Catholics, as soon
as the death of James, or any similar event, should end their tem«
porary prosperity. It is well known, how exactly the event cor-
responded to the prophecy ; even the circumstance of the rabble
rising upon the Catholic priests was most literally verified. In
most of the sea-port towns, they watched the coasts to prevent
their escape ; and when King James was taken at Feversham, the
fishermen, by whom he was seized, were employed in what they
called by the cant phrase of " priest-codding," that is, lying in
wait for the fugitive priests.
Darmes and Berfall, do constantly say mass before the king and queen. Father
Edmund Newill, before the queen-dowager, Father Alexander Regnes in the
chapel of the ambassador aforesaid, others in other places. Many hoiues are
boi^ht for the college in the Savoy, as they call it, nigh Someraet-house, Londoo,
the palace of the queen^wager, to the value of about eighteen thouand iBorini;
in making of which, after the form of a college, they labour very hard, that the
schools may be opened before Easter." A Letter from a Jesuit at lAeg^ Somen*
Tracts, p. 248. About this letter, see Burnet's History, Voi I. p. 711. The
king also granted the manor of York to Lawson, a priest, for thirty years, as a
seminary for the education of youth in the Catholic fiuth ; to the great displeasore
of Sir John Reresby, the governor of the dty, who had fitted it up for his own
readence. See his Memoirs, pp. 245, 246.
KOT£8 ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 257
Note XIV.
But mott in Martin's character and fate.
She taw her dander* d sons, the Pantlier^s hatct
The people's rage, the persecuting state — P. 217.
The conclusion of the fable naturally introduces a discussion
of the penal laws, which unquestionably were extremely severe
towards Catholics. By the fourteenth of Queen Elizabeth^ it was
enacted, that whoever, by bulls of the Pope, should reconcile
any one to Rome, should, together with the person -reconciledy
be guilty of high treason ; that those who relieved such reeon-
ciiers, sho«kl be liable in the penalties oi vl premunire^ and these
who concealed them in misprision of treason. A still more se-
vere law passed in the twenty-eighth of the«arae queen, upon dis-
oevery ot* Parry *« conspiracy against her life, to which he had been
stirred up by a book of Allen, or Parsons the Jesuit, written for
Ae express purpose. It was thereby enacted, that all Jesuits and
Popish priests snould depart the kingdom within forty days ; and
tfiat those who should afterwards return into the kingdomy should
be guiity of high treason ; and all who relieved and maintained
tbem, of felony. There were otlier enactments of a similar na>i
Iwre made upon the discovery of the gunpowder-plot. Samuel
Johnson (I mean the divine) gives an odd justification of these
laws, saying, that the priests are hanged, not as priests, but as
tnutors. But^ as their being priests was the sole reason for their
being held traitors, it does not appear^ that the Protestant divine
pan avail himself of this distinetien«
Note xy.
No ehufvh refbrm'd can boast a hlamdess Une,
Such Martins buUd in yours, and more than mine ;
Or ebe an old fanatic author lies,
Wko summ'd their scandals up by centuries* — P. 218.
The fanatic author is John White» commonly called Century
White. He was bom in Pembrokeshire in 1590, was educated
for the bar, and made a considerable figure in his profession. As
be was a rigid puritan^ he F.as chosen one of the trustees which
that sect appointed to purchase appropriations to be bestowed
upon &natic preachers. This design was checked by Archbishop
I^d ; and WhitCi among others> received a severe censure in the
Star-Chamber. In the Long Parliament, White was member for
JSouithwark, and distinguished himself by his vindictive severity
against the bishops and Episcopal clergy^ saying openly in a com-
Diittee^ he hoped to live to see the day, when there should be nei-
VOL. X. It
358 NOTES ON THB HIND AND THE PAKTHEB.
ther bishop nor cathedral priest in England. He was very actife
in the ejectment of the clergy, by which upwards of eight tnousand
churchmen are said to have lost their cures in the course of four
or five years. In order to encourage and justify these violent
measures, he published his famous treatise, entitled* ** The First
Century of Scandalous Malignant Priests, made and admitted into
Benefices by the Prelates, London, 1643 ;" a tract which con*
tainsy as may be inferred from its name, an hundred instances sf
unworthiness, which had been either proved to have existed amoog
the clergy of the church of England, or had been invented to throw
a slander upon them. When this satire was shewn to Charles U
It was proposed to answer it by a similar exposition of the scsm
dalous part of the puritanical teachers ; but that noonarch would
not consent to give countenance to a warfare in which neither
party could gain^ and religion was sure to be a loser between them.
Similar considerations are said to have prevented White himsdf
from publishing ** A Second Century/' in continuation of his
work. He wrote another tract, entitled, ** The Looking GUiss;"
in which he attempted to prove, that the sin against the Hohr
Ghost was the bearing arms for the King in the Civil War. His
own party bestow on White a high character for religion and viiw
tue ; but the cavaliers alleged, that although he had two wives of
his own, a, large proportion of matrimony* he did not forbear to
visit three belonging to his neighbours in the White Friars, Ho
died in January IGi^y and is said, in his last illness^ to have bit*
terly lamented the active share which he had taken in ejecting
so many guiltless ministers, and their families. This^ howcTer,
may be a fiction of the royalists ; for the death-bed repentance
of an enemy is amongst the most common forgeries of party.
White's body was attended to the grave by most of the memben
of Parliament, and the following distich inscribed on his tomb:
**• Here lyeth John, a burning shiniDg Ugbt,
His name, life, actions, all were Whits.*'
See Wood's Athence Oxonietueu
Note XVI.
The Lion, studious of our common good^
Desires (and kinds' desires are ill withstood)
To join our nations in a lasting love ;
The bars betwixt are easy to renKyoe,
For sanguinary laws were never made above. — P. 218.
When James II. ascended the throne, deceived by the gene-
ral attachment of the Church of England for his person, and the
little jealousy which they seemed to entertain of his religion,
he conceived there would be no great difficulty in procuring
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 259
8 reconciliation between the national Church and that of Rome.
With this view he made a favourable declaration of his intentions
to maintain the Church of England as by law established^ and
certainly expected, that, in return, they would consent to the re«
peal of the Test Act and penal laws ;* and this, it was conceived,
night pave the way for uniting the churches. An extraordinary
parophletf already quoted, recommends such an union, founded
upon the mutual attachment of both communions to King James,
upon their success in resisting the Bill of Exclusion, and their
oommon hatred of the dissenters. *' This very stone, which was
once rejected by the architects, is now become the chief stone
in the comer. We may truly see it in the hand of God» and look
upon it with admiration ; and may expect, if fears and jealousies
hmder not, the greatest blessings we can wish for. An union be«
twixt these two walls, which have been thus long separated, and
now in a fair way to be united and liqked together by this cor«
ner stone ; afler which, how glorious a structure may we hope
for on such foundations I'* A plan is therefore laid down, contain-
ing the following heads^ of which it may be observed, that the
very first is the abrogation of those penal laws, which Dryden
slates to be the principal bar between the alliance of the Hind
and the Panther.
*^ First, that it may be provided. That those who are known to
be faitliful friends to the king and kingdom*s good, may equally
with us enjoy those favours and blessings we may hope for under
oo great and so just a king, without being liable to the sanguinary
penal laws, for holding opinions noways inconsistent with loyaU
ty, and the peace and quiet of the nation ; and that they may
not be obliged, by oaths and tests, either to renounce their re«
ligion^ which they know they cannot do without sacrilege, or
else to put themselves out of capacity of serving their King and
country.
«' Secondly, That, for healing our differences, it be appointed,
that neither sidesy in their sermons, touch upon matters of con*
troversy with animating reflections ; but that those discourses
may wholly tend to peace and pietjr, religion and sound morali«-
ty ; and that, in all public catechisms, the solid grounds and
principles of religion may be solely explicated and established,
all reflecting animosities oeing laid aside.
'' Thirdly, That some learned, devout, and sober persons, may
be made choice of on both sides, who may truly state matters of
controversy betwixt us ; to the end, each on^ may know other's
pretensions, and the tenets they cannot abandon, without break-
• So I8JS the memorable «« Tcit of the Church of England^s Loyalty*
ft
S60 NOTES OK THE HIKD AND THE PAKTHES^
ing the chain of apostoh'c faith ; which, if it be done, we shafli
it may be, find that to be true» which the Papists often tell us,
that the difference betwixt them and us is not so great as maaj
make it ; nor their tenets so pernicious^ but if we saw them ni*
ked^ we should, if not embrace them as truths, yet not condemn
them as errors, much less as pernicious doctrines. Yet if, not*
withstanding all this, we cannot perfectly a^ree in some points,
let us, however, endeavour to live together in the bonds of love
and charity, as becomes good Christians and loyal subjects, and
join together to oppugn those known maxims, and pernicious er-
rors, which destroy the essence of religion, loyalty^ and good
government" — Remonstrance^ by way of Addreu, to the Chvrck
of England, 1685,
Note XVII.
Yei siiil remember, that you wield a srvord^
Forced by your foes against your sovereign lord j
Desigtied to hew the imperial cedar down.
Defraud succession, and dis-heir the crown. — P. 219.
The Test-act was passed in the year 1678, while the Popish
Plot was in its vigour, and the Earl of Shaflesburj* was urging
every point against the Catholics, with his eyes unifbrmly fixed
upon the Bill of Exclusion as his crowning measure. It imposed
on all who should sit in parliament, a declaration of their abhov-
rence of the doctrine of transubstantiation. The Duke of York,
with tears in his eyes^ moved for a proviso to exempt himself,
protesting, that he cast himself upon the House in the greatest
concern he could have in the world ; and that whatever his reli*
fion might be, it should only be a private thing between God and
is own soul. Notwithstanding this pathetic appeal, he carried
bis [loint but by two votes. With seven other peers he protested
against the bill. Dryden therefore, and probably with great jus-
tice, represents this test as a part of his machinations against the
Duke of York, whose party was at that time, and afterwards,
warmly espoused by the Church of England. But though the
Test-act was devised by a statesman whom they hated, and car^
ried by a party whom they had opposed, the high»church clergy
were not the less unwilling to part with it, when they found th^
advantages which it gave them against the Papists in King James's
reign. Hence they were loaded with the following reproaches:
" My business is to set forth, in its own colours, the extraordip
nary loyalty of those men, who obstinately maintain a test coi^
trived by the faction to usher in the Bill of Exclusion : And it
is much admired, even by some of her own children, that the
^rave aqd matronrlike Church of JE)ngland, which v^luet) herself
§Q much for her anti(}uityi should be over-^fond of a new point of
jrOTES ON THE HIND AND THE FANTHER. 201
faith^ lately broached by a famous act of an infallible parliament,
convened at Westminster, and guided by the holy spirit of Shaft es-
I bury. But I doubt there are some parliaments in the world which
''' will not 60 easily admit this new article into their creed, though
die Church of England labours so much to maintain it as a spe-
cial evidence of her singular loyalty /^^-^New Test of the Church
i 1^ England's LoyaUif4
N%te XVIIl.
I the first reformers were a modest race ;
I . Our 'peers possess* d in peace their fiativ^ ptacd,
And when rebellious arms o'ertum'd the state^
They suffer'd only in the common fate ;
But now the sovereign mounts the regal chair,
And mitred seats areJuU^ yet David's bench is bare.'^P, 2^1.
- This passage regards the situation of the Roman Catholic peers^
Notwithstanding their relicion, they had been allowed to retain
their seats and votes in the House of Lords* So jealous were they
'. (as was but natural,) of this privilege, that> in 16759 when Danby
t. proposed a test oath upon all holding state employments and be-*
^* Heficesy the object of ii<rhich was to acknowledge the doctrine of
non-resistance, and disown all attempts at an alteration of govern-
liient, the Roman Catholic peers, to the number of twenty^ who
had hitherto always voted with the crown^ united^ on this occa-
MOD, with the opposition, and occasioned the loss of the bilL This
North imputes to the art of Shaftesbury, who dinned into their
eucB, *^ that this test (by mentioning the maintenance of the Pro«
testant religion, though that of the royal authority was chiefly
proposed) tended to deprive them of their right of votings which
was a birth-right so sacrosanct and radically inherent in the peer-*
age, as not to be temerated on any account whatsoever/' When
the Earl had heated the Catholic lords with this suggestion, he
secured them to the Opposition, by proposing, and carrying
through, an order of the House, that no bill should be received,
tending to deprive any of the peerage of their right. But when
the Test-act of 1678 was moved, which had^ for its direct purposCf
that exclusion which that of 1675 was supposed only to convey
by implication, Shaftesbury laughed at the order which he him-
fldf had proposed, saying, leges gosteriores priores abrogant. And
hr this test, which required the renunciation of their religion as
idolatrous, tlie Catholic peerage were effectually, and for ever,
excluded from their seats in the House of Lords. Dryden inti-
mates, in the following lines, that this test applied to the Papists
alone, and complains heavily of this odious distinction, betwixt
them and other non-conformists.
862 NOTES ON THE HIND ANB THE PAKTHES.
Note XIX.
Whenjirst the Lion sat with awJuL «iM^t
Your conscience taught your duty to obey,^^P» 28S.
Jamet II. and the established church set out on ihe higfaat
terms of good humour with each other. This, as the king after-
wards assured the dissenters, was owing to the professioiia made
to him by some of the churchmen^ whom he named, who bad pro-
mised favour to the Catholics^ proTided he would abandon all idet
of general toleration, and leave them their ancient authority over
the fanatics. Moved, as he said, by these promises, the Deda-
ration in councili issued upon his acc^iony had this remaribUe
clause : ** I know the principles of the Church of England are for
monarchy, and the members of it have shewn themselves good and
loyal subjects, therefore I shall always take care to defend and
support it." This explicit declaration gave the greatest satisfac-
tion to the kingdom in general, and particularly to the clergy.
** All the pulpits of England," says Bumetf *' were full of it, and
of thanksgivings for it It was magnified as a security fiur greater
than any that Taws could give. The common phrase wasy Wc
have now the word of a king, and a word never yet broken. Thii
general feeling of gratitude led to a set of addresses, full of the
most extravagant expressions of loyalty and fidelity to so gracioHi
a sovereign. The churchmen led the way in these expresskmi
of zeal ; and the university of Oxford, in particular, promised to
obey the king without limitations or restrictions." The king's
promise was reckoned so solemn and inviolable, that those ad-
dresses were censured as guilty at least of ill-breeding, who men-
tioned in their papers the '< religion established hy law ;" since
that expression implied an obligation on the king to maintain it,
independently of his royal grace and favour. But the scene
speedily changed, as the king's intentions began to disclose them-
selves. Then, as a Catholic pamphleteer expresses himself, ** Mj
loyal gentlemen were so far out of the right bias, that, in lieu of
taking off the tests and penal laws, which all people expected
from them in point of gratitude and good manners, they made a
solemn address to his majesty, that none be employed who were
not capacitated by the said laws and tests to bear offices dfii
and military."*
If James had viewed with attention the incidents of the former
reisn, he might have recollected, that, however devoted the clergy
had then shown themselves to the crown, his brother's attempt at
his presentmeasureof a general indulgence hadat once alarmed the
• New Test, &c
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHEB. 26S
whole church. This sensibility^ when the interest of the church
is conoemed, is severely contrasted with the general indifference
to the cause of freedom, into which they relapsed when the in-
dulgence was recalled, in a party-pamphlet of the year 1680* I.
^' You may easily call to mind a late instance of the humanity
and conscience of this rac^of men here in England : For when
his majesty^ not long since^ attempted tb follow his own inclina*
tions^ and emitted a declaration of indulgence to tender con-
•dences, the whole posse cleri seemed to be raised against him :
Every reader and Gibeonite of the church could then talk as sau<«
cily of their king^ as they do now of the late honourable Par-i
liament ; nay^ they began to stand upon their terms, and deli*
vered it out as orthodox doctrine, that the king was to act ac«
eording to law, and, therefore, could not suspend a penal sta<^
tute ; that the subjects' obedience was a legal obedience ; and,
therefore, if the king commanded any thing contrary to law, the
subject was not bound to obey ; with so many other honest posi-
tions, that men wondered in God how such knaves should come
by them. But wherefore was all this wrath, and all this doctrine ?
snerely because his majesty was pleased for a time to remove the
•ore backs of dissenters from under the ecclesiastical lash ; the
Moody exercise of which is never denied to holy church, but the
magistrate is immediately assaulted with the noise and clamour
of Demetrius and his craftsmen.
'^But now, the tables being turned, thesame mercenary tongues
are again all Sibthorp^ and all Manwaring ; not a bit of law, or
conscience either, is now to be had for love or money ; not any
limits to be put to the king's commands^ or our obedience. It
ifl a gospel truth with these men, that all which we have is the
Idng*! ; and if he should command our estates^ our wives and
diimren^ yea* and our religion too, we ought to resign them up,
anbmitt and be silent." — The Freeholders* Choice^ or» a Letter of
JMce amceming Elections.
■
Note XX.
Possess your soul with patience^ and attend;
A more auspicious planet may ascend;
Chod fortune may present sorne happUr timet
With means to cancel my untoUling crime^'^^V. 23i4t.
The first expression in these lines seems to have been a favour-
ite with Dryden. In the Introduction to the Translation of Juve-
aal> he makes it his glory, ^' that, beinj^ naturally vindictive, he
bad suffered in silence, and possessed hts soul in quiet,**
The arguments used by the Panther in this passage seem to
bs?e more weight than her antagonist allows them. It was surely
864 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE FAKTHX8.
reasonable^ that the Church of England should rest ufxm her pe-
nal statues and Test Act, as the sole mode of preventing the en*
croachments of her rival during a Catholic reign, and, at the same
time, that she should look forward with pleasure to a future pe-
riod, when such severe enactments might be no looj^er necessarj
for her safety ; a time, of which it has been our good Ibrtime to
witness the arrival.
The argument of the Panther, in this speech, is, with the simile
of the inundation, literally versified from an answer to Peno'i
pamphlet. '' The penal laws cannot prejudice the Papists in this
king's reign, seeing he can connive at the noo-execution of them^
and the repeal of them now cannot benefit the Papists when he ii
gone ; because, if they do not behave themselves modestly, we
can either re-establish them, or enact others, whic^ they will be
as little fond of. But their abrogation at this time would infidliUy
prejudice us, and would prove to be the pulling up of the sluicei^
and the throwing down the dikes, which stem the deluge that ii
breaking in upon us, and which hinder the threatening waves fiwB
overflowing us." Some refiectums on m discourse, entitled^ '' Goad
Advice to the Church of England."— Sto^ Tructs^ VoL I. p. SfiSi
Note XXI.
Your care about your banks infers a fear
Of threatening floods and inundations near ;
jffsOf a just reprise wotdd only be
Of what the land usurp* d upon the sea^^^V. 22S.
This conveys a perilous insinuation, which perhaps it would, at
the time, have been prudent to suppress ; since it goes the length
of preparing a justification of the resumption of the power, autho-
rity, lands, and revenues, of the Church of England, upon the
footing of their having originally belonged to tl^t of Rome. It
cannot be supposed that this hint could be passed over at the
time, without a strong feeling of a meditated revolution in church
government and property.
Note XXII.
Behold how he protects your friends oppressed.
Receives the banish* d, succours the distress* d ! -
Beholdi for you may read an honest open breasi.^^F 92S.
Burnet, in the *' History of his Own Times," gives the follow-
ing account of the relief which James, either from inclination or
policy, extended to the French Protestants, who were exUed by
the recal of the edict of Nantes.
'' But now the session of Parliament drew on^ and there was a
KOTES ON THE HIND AND THE FANTHEE. S65
great expectation of the issue of it. For some weeks before it
met, there was such a number of refugees coming over every day,
who set about a most dismal recital of the persecution in France ;
and that in so many instances that -were crying and odious, that,
though all endeavours were used ta lessen the clamour this had
raised, yet the king did not stick openly to condemn it as both
unchristian and unpolitic. He took pains to clear the Jesuits of
it, and laid the blame of it chiefly on the king, on Madame de
Maintenon, and the Archbishop of Paris. He spoke oflen of it
with such vehemence, that there seemed to be an affectation ia
it. He did more : He was very kind to the refugees ; he was li«
beral to many of them ; he ordered a brief for a charitable col-
lection over the nation for them all ; upon which great sum*
were sent in. They were deposited in good handa, and well 6m^
tribated. The king also ordered them to be denizen*d, without
paying feest and gave them great immunities. So that, in all,
there came over, first and last, between forty and fifly of that na-
tion. There was such real argument of the cruel and perseciK
ting spirit of Popery, wheresoever it prevailed, that few could
resist this conviction'; so that all men confessed, that the French
persecution came very seasonably to awaken the nation^ and
open men*s eyes in so critical a conjunction ; for upon this sea-
won of Parliament all did depend."— «Burnet, Book IV.
Note XXIH.
A plain good man, whose name is understood, .
(So few deserve the name of plain and goo^f.)— P. 226.
ThesCy and the following lines, contain a character of James IL
most exquisitely drawn, though, it must be owned, with a flatter-
ing pencil. Bravery, econom v, integrity, are the ingredients which
Drjrden has mixed for his colours. Without attempting a charac-
ter of this unfortunate monarch, we may say a few words on each
of the attributes ascribed to him. Bravery be unquestionably
possessed ; but it was of that ordinary kind, which, though on--
shaken by mere personal danger, is unable to sustain its possess-
or in great and embarrassing political emergencies. The ecc^
nomy of James, being one great engine by which he hoped to
carry on his projects, was so rigid as sometimes to border upon
avance. His upright integrity, the virtue upon which he chiefly
prided himselff and which was the usual theme of courtly pane-
gynCf frequently deviated into obstinacy. When he had once re-
solved upon a measure, he often announced his resolution with
iiiiprudence» and almost always pressed it with an open disre^d
of consequences. No fiiult can be more fatal to an English kmg ;
because the stream of popular opinion, which would subside if
266 NOTES ON THE HIND ANB THE PAKTHEB.
unopposed, becomes irresistible when the obstinacy of a monardi
persists in attempting to stem it.
Note XXIV.
A sort of Doves fvere housed too near their hatt.
Who cross the proverb, and abound with gtdL — P. 888.
The virulent and abusive character which our author here draws
of the clergy, and particularly those of the metropolis, diflfenso
much fVom his description of the Church of England, in the per-
son of the Panther, that we may conclude it was written after tbe
publishing of the Declaration of Indulgence, when the king had
decidedly turned his favour from the Established Church. Their
quarrel was now irreconcileable^ and at immediate issue ; and
Dryden, therefore, changes the tone of conciliation^ with which
be nad hitherto addressed the heretic church, into that of bitter
and unrelenting satire. Dryden calls them doves, in order to psTe
the way for terming; them, as he does a little below, ** birds of
Venus ;" as disowning the doctrine of celibacy. The popukr
pinion, that a dove has no gall. Is well known. In ScMDUand,
this is averred to be owing to the dove which Noah dismissed
from the ark having flown so long, that his gall broke ; since
which occurrence, none of the species have had any.
Note XXV.
An hideous Jlgure of their foes they drew.
Nor lines, nor looks, nor shades, nor colours true ;
And this grotesque design exposed to public view, — P. 231.
The Roman Catholic pamphlets of the time are filled with com*
plaints, that their principles were misrepresented by the Protest-
ant divines ; and that king-killing tenets, and others of a perni-
cious or absurd nature, were unjustly ascribed to them. A tract,
which is written on purpose to explain their real doctrine, says,
^^ Is it not strange and severe, that principles, and those pre«
tended of faith too, should be imposed upon men which thrr
themselves renounce and detest ? if the Turks' Alcoran should^
in like manner, be urged upon us, and we hanged up for Ma*
hometans, all we could do or say, in such a case, would be, to
die patiently, with protestations of our own innocence And this
is the posture of our condition ; we abhor, we renounce, weabo*
minate> such principles ; we protest against them, and seal oar
protestations with our dying breath. What shall we say, what
can we do more ? To accuse men as guilty in matters of faitbi
which they never owned, is die same wing as to condemn them
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE ]?ANTBEft. 867
for matters of fact which they never did."* Another author,
Bpeaking of the assumed character of the Established Church,
says, that the Catholic controvertists have often told us^ that
" we behave ourselves like persons diffident of our cause^ decline
disputes on equal terms^ and either misrepresent their tenets, as
app^uv manifestly in their doctrines of justification and merits
satisfaction ^nd indulgence ; or else play the buffoons, joking,
scoffing, and relating stories, which, it true, would not touch re-
ligion."—^ Remonstrance, hy way of Address^ &c
Note XXVI.
No Holland emblem could that malice mend.^^F* 231.
. Emblems, like puns, being the wit of a heavy people, the Dutch
seem to have been remarkable for them ; of whichi their old*
fashioned prints, and figured pan-tiles, are existing evidei^oe*
Prior thus drolls upon the passage in the text :
** Bayes, Oh ! dear sir, you are migh^ obliging : but I must
needs say at a fable, or an emblem, I tBink no man comes near
tne ; indeed, I have studied it mpre thoA any man. Did you ever
take notice, Mr Johnson, of a little thing that has taken mightily
about town, a cat with a top knot ? t
** John. Faith, Sir, 'tis mighty pretty ; I saw it at the coffee^
house.
'' Bayes, 'TIs a trifle hardly worth owning. I was t'other day at
Will's, throwing out something of that nature ; and, i'gad, the
hint was taken, and out came that picture ; indeed, the poor fel-
low was so civil to present me with a dozen of 'em for my ftiends.
I think I have one here in my pocket ; would you please to ac-
cept it,'*Mr Johpson ?
" John* Really, 'tis very ingenious.
" Bayes* Oh, Lord, nothing at all! I could design twenty of 'em
in an hour, if I had but witty fellows about me to draw 'em. I
was proflfbred a pension to go into Holland and contrive their
emblems ; but, hang 'em, they are dull rogues, and would spoil
my mr&i\xon*''^Hind and Panther Transprosed*
Note XXVII.
The noUe Buzzard ever pleased me &ef/.— P. 2S3*
Gilbert Burnet, well known as an historian, was bom of a good
fkmily in Scotland, in 1643. He went through his studies with
* Ronum Catholic Principles, 1080.
f There is a copy of this Old caridUure print in Lattrdl's CoUectioo.
9
968 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.
succeu ; and^ being ordained by the Bishop of Edinbui^b, ob-
tained the living of Salton, in East Lothian, in 1665. While in
this living, he drew up a memorial of the abuses of the Scotch
bishops, and was instrumental in procuring the induction of Pres-
byterian divines into vacant churches ; a step which he afterwards
condemned as imprudent.* To measures so unfavoanible ler
Episcopacy, Dryden seems to allude, in these lines :
I know he hates the Pigeon-house and Farm,
And more, in time of war, has done us hartn ;
But all his hate on trivial points depends,
Give up our forms, and we shall soon be friends.
Burnet's opinion, or rather indifference, concerning forms, may
be guessed at, from the applause with which he quotes a saying
of Dr Henry More ; " None of them are bad enough to make men
badf and I am sure none of them are good enough to make men
good." He was next created Professor of Divinity at Glasgow;
but as his active temper led him to mingle much in political life,
he speedily distinguished himself rather as a politician than a the-
ologian. In 1672 he was made one of the king's chaplains, and
was in high favour both with Charles and his brother. He enjoy-
ed much of the countenance of the Duke of Lauderdale ; but a
quarrel taking place between them, the Duke represented Burnet's
conduct in such terms, that he was deprived of his chaplainry, and
forced to resign his professor's chair, and abandon Scotland. He
had an opportunity of revenging himself upon Lauderdale, as will
be noticed in a subsequent note. During the time of the Popish
Plot, he again received a portion of the royal countenance. He
was then preacher at the Rolls Chapel, under the patronage of Sir
Harbottle Grimstone, master of the rolls, as also lecturer at St
Clement's, and enjoyed a high degree of public consideration. Ha-
vings as he conceived, a fit opportunity to awaken the conscience
of Charles, he ventured upon sending him a letter, where he
treated his personal vices, and the faults of his government, with
great severity, f and by which he forfeited his favour for ever.
This freedom, with his Low-church tenets, gave also offence to
the Duke of York, who was, moreover, offended with him for
some interference in the affair of the Exclusion, in which, if he
did not go all the length of Shaftesbury, he recommended the
appointment of a prince-regent; a measure scarcely more pa-
latable to the successor. At length, his regard for Lord Russell,
and the share which he took in penning, or circulating, his dymg
• History of his Own Times, Vol. I. p. 280.
t See Burnet's Life, by his Son, p> 686.
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 269
declaratioBy drew upon him the full resentment of both brotherg.
To tbisi a whimsical accident, in the choice of a text for the day
of the gun-powder plot^ happened to contribute The preacher
chanced (for we must belieye what he assures us^ ex verbo iacer*
dotis) to pitch on these words *. ^* Save me from tlie lion's mouth ;
thou hast delivered me from the horns of the unicorn^** This was
interpreted as referring to the supporters of the rojral arms ; and
Burnet was discharged, by the king's command, both from lee-
turing at St Clement's, and preaching at the Rolls ChapeL After
this final breach with the eourt he went abroad, and, having tra-
velled through France and Italyt settled in Holland at the court
of the Prince of Orange. Here he did not fail, with that ready
insinuation which seems to have distingaished him, to make hiin-
self of consequence to the prince^ and etpeciaUj to the pnoctm,
afterwards Queen Mary. From this place of refuge he aeatiartk
several papers^ in single sheets^ relating to the cootroTenr in
England ; and the clergy* who had formerly looked upon ttim
with some suspicion, b^an now to treat with great a t i cci ko a=d
respect a person so capable of serving their cause. He waci ctjz^
suited upon every emergency ; which confidence was z»^ d'XJ'X
owing partly to his situation near the penon of the Vtiuoc *A
Orange, the protestant heir of the crown. He stood forward as
the champion of the church of England* in the cobtroversy wlib
Parker concerning the Test* In the •« Historj of Lit Ow:i Tin>»,'
the bishop talks with complacency of the sway wbkii C7CX3>
stances had given him among the clergy, and of tlM; isvpcrUJBt
matters which fell under his managemeDt : i^n^ by ezpreu c>=^
mand of the Prince of Orange, be was admhwi itatj t.. zz^t h^
crets of the English intrigues. These insinuatiiaa« of h',j-x^h
importance, although they afterwards drew the ridiciile ci Pvp^,
and the Tory wits cMf Queen Anne's reign, may, trwn iLt vtsy t^
tire of Dryden, be proved to have been welt foooded. T:il^ ac-
quired importance of Burnet is the alliance between the Pi^eo::^
house and Buzzard, which Dryden reprobates, believing, or wi^iw
ing to make others believe, that Burnet held opinions unfavour-
able to Episcopacy. James considered this divine as so formi-
dable an enemy, that he wrote two very severe letters xo his
daughter against him, and proceeded so far as to inslft tliat he
should be forbidden the court ; a circunutance which d.d not
prevent his privately receiving a double degree of countenance.
A prosecution for high treason was ne^it commenced against Bur-*
net, and a demand was made tiiat he should be delivered up ;
* See Dr Flexman^s catalogue of his works, under the head '* Tracts, Poli^
^I, Pulemical, and Misodlaneous.**
370 NOTftS ON THE HIKD ASD TBB'PAKTHEB.
which the States evaded, by declaring that he was naturalised,
by marrying a Dutch lady. The court of England wm then aup
poied to have formed some plan, as they attempted io the case
of Peyton, of seizing, or perhaps assassinating him, md a reward
of L.SOOO was offered for the service. Burnet, however, confident
in the protection of the Prince and States of Holland^ answeredt
replied, and retorted* and carried on almost an immediate con-
troversy with his sovereign, dated from the court of his aon-in-i
law. This active politician had a very important sllare in the Re-
volution, and reaped his reward, by being advanced to the jeeof
Salisbury. He died on the ITth of March, 1714*15.
His writings, theological, political, and polemical^ are very nu-
merous ; but lie is most remarkable as an nistorian. The *' His-
tory of the Reformation,*' but more especially that of '^ His Own
Times," raises him to a high rank among our Englidi historiaofc
Note XXVIIL
A portly prince^ and goodly to the sighi.
He seem'd a son ofAnctchjhr his height/
Like those whom statitre did io crowns prefer,
Black-brow' di and bluff, like Homer's Jumter/
BroacUback'd, and brawny buiU^Jbr hoes de^ht,
A prophet form d to make a female proselyte^— P, 284.
The following song, which is preserved in the " State Poems,"
gives a sirnilar account of Burnet's personal appearance :
A new Ballad, called the Brawny Bishop's Cotnplaint,
To the Tune of-^Packington's Pound.
I.
When B ' t pereeiTed the beautiful dames.
Who flocked to the chapel of holy St James,
On their lovers the kiudest looks did bestow.
And smiled not on him while he bellowed bdow ;
To the Princess he went.
With pious intent.
This dangerous ill in the church to prevent s
*"* O, Madam ! quoth he, our religion is lost.
If the ladies thus ogle the knights of the toast.
II.
**> Your highness observes how I labour and sweat.
Their affections to raise, and new flames to beget ;
And sure when I preach, all the world will agree,
That their ears and their eyes should be pointed <»i met
But now I can't find
One beauty so kind,
As my parts to regard, or my presence to mind ;
Kay, I scarce have a sight of any one face.
But tliose of old Oxford, and ugly A'gl&s*
KOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHEE. 271
in.
** These w r ro w fu l matfOBs, with hearts full of |iuth»
Repent for the nMoifiold sins of their yoath ;
The rest with their tattle my harmony spoil ;
And BuTu.ton, An— say, K— gstoo, and B-^-Je,
Their minds entertain
With thoughts so profime,
^is a mercy to find that at church they contain ;
Even Hen'>-ham*s shapes their weak fancies entioct
And rather than me they will ogle the Vioe.*
. IV.
** These practices* madam, my preadiing disgrace |
Shall laymen enjoy the just rights of my place f
Then all may lunent my condition for hard.
To thresh in the pulpit without a reward.
Then pray condescend
Such disorders to end.
And from the ripe yinerards such laboorcrs send ;
Or build up the seats, that the beauties may see
The face of no brawny pretender but me.**— >
V.
The Princess, by mde importonities prc8s*d.
Though she ]au^*d at bis reasons, a]k>w*d his request ;
And uow Britain's nymphs, in Protestant rdgn.
Are lockM up at prayers like the virgins in Spain :
And all are undone,
As sure as a sun,
Whenever a woman is kept like a mm.
If any kind man from bondage will save her.
The lass, in gratitude, grants him the &vour«
The jest of his being '' a prophet, formed to make a female
proselyte,*' was more cuttings as he had just acquired a right of
naturalization in Holland) by marrying Mrs Marv Scott^ a Dutch
lady, but of Scottish extraction, being descended of the noble
house of Buccleuch.
Note XXIX.
The hero andilte iyraiA dkange their stgkf
By the same measure that they frown or smUe^/^^V. 235.
It must be owned, that, with all Bishop Burnet's good quali*
ties, there are particulars in his history which give colour for this
accusation. His opinions were often hastily adopted, and of
course sometimes awkwardly retracted, and (lis patrons were fre*
quently changed. Thus, he vindicated the legality of divorce for
* Mr B~-ty, vice-chamberlain.
S78 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PAKTHSB.
barrenness on the part of the wife, and even that of polygamy^ in
his resolution of two important cases of conscience. These were
intended to pave the way for Charles divorcing his barren wife
Catherine, or marrying another ; and so raising a lamily of hii
own to succeed him^ instead of the Duke of York. These opi-
nions he formally retracted. Notwithstanding bis zeal for liberty,
his first work is said by Swift to have been written in defence of
arbitrary power. Above all^ his great intimacy witb the Dukei
of Hamilton and Lauderdale, the King and the Duke of York,
the Pope and the Prince of Orange ; in short, bis having the ad-
dress to attach himself, for a time, to almost every leading cba-
racter, whom he bad an opportunity of approaching, gives us
room to suspect, that if Burnet did not change his opinions, he
had at least the art of disguising such as could not be accom-
modated to those of his immediate patron. When the king de-
manded that Burnet should be delivered up by the States, he
threatened, in return, to justify himself, by giving an aepount of
the share he had in affairs for twenty years past ; in which he in-
timated, he might be driven to mention some particulars^ which
would displease the king. This threat* as he had enjoyed a con^
siderable share of his confidence when Duke of York^ may seem,
in some degree, to justify Dry den's heavy diarge against him, of
availing himself of past confidence to criminate former patrons.
It is remarkable also, that even while he was in the secret of all
the intrigues of the Revolution, and must have considered it as a
near attempt, he continued to assert the doctrine of passive obe-
dience ; and in his letter to M iddleton, in vindication of his con-
duct against the charge of high treason, there is an affectation of
excessive loyalty to the reigning monarch. Against these instan-
ces of dissimulation, forced upon him perhaps by circumstances,
but still unworthy and degrading, we may oppose many others,
in which, when his principles and interest were placed at issue;
be refused to serve the latter at the expence of the former.
Note XXX.
His praise of foes is venomously nice ;
So touch* dy tt turns a virtue to a vtctf.— P. 235.
This applies to the sketches of characters introduced by Bur-
net in his controversial tracts. But long after the period when
Dryden wrote, the publication of the History of his Own Times
confirmed, to a certain extent, the censure here imposed. It is a
general and just objection to the bishop's historical characters,
tliat they are drawn up with too much severity, and that the keen-
ness of party has induced him, in many cases, to impose upon the
KOTKS ON TITE HIND AND THU PANTHER. 273
8 ctficitiirelbr a retembbiDoe. Yet there appears to have
Iwen perlect ^ood faith upon his mrn part ; so that are maj safely
■cfait him of an j intention to exaggerate the fiiults, or conceal
the Tirtnea, oi hu poiiticai enemies. He seems himself to hare
been conscious of a disposition to look upon the dark side of hu-
manitj. ** I find/ says he, " that the long experience I have had
of the baseness, the malice, and the falsehood of mankind, has in-
dined me to be apt to think generally the worst of men, and of
partJes." Burnet therefore candidly puts the reader upon h'S
jguard against this predominant foible, and expressly warns him
%o receive what he advances with some grains of allowance.
But whatever was Burnet's private opinion of the conduct of
withers, and however much he might be misled by prejudice in
drawing their characters, it should not be forgotten, tluit, in the
momenta of triumph which succeeded the Revolution, he not
flAly resisted every temptation to revenge for personal injuries,
but employed all bis influence to recommend mild and concilia*
img conduct to the successful party. Some, who had sutfered
under the severity of James's reign, were extremely indignant at
what seemed to tJiem to ar<;ue too much feeling for their discom.
fited adversaries, and too little sympathy with their own past dis-
tresses* Samuel Johnson, in particular, reprobates the Scottish
bishop's exhortations to forgiveness and forgetful ness of injuries.
^' And, besides, we have Scotch doctors, to teach us the art of
forgetfiilness. Pray you have gude memories, gude memories ;
do not remember bad things, (meaning the murders and oppres-
sions of the last reigns,) but keep your memories for gude things,
have gude memories." To this mimicry of the bishop's dialect,
in which, however, he seems to have conveyed most wholesome
;^nd sound council, Johnson adds, that, during the sitting of King
William's first parliament, wliile his complaints were before them,
the l^ishop sent to him his advice, '' Not to name persons." " I
gav^" says he, ** an £nglish reply to this message ; * Let him mind
|iis business, I will mind mine.' His bookseller, Mr Cbiswell, by
whom I had the message, seemed loth to carry him that blunt
answer. Oh ! said I, he has got the title of a Lord lately, I must
qualify my answer : ' Let him please to mind his own business, I
will mind mine.''-^This was very natural for one smarting under
au&rings, who complains, that *'' while a certain traveller," mean^
jog Burnet, '' was making his court to the cardinab at Rome, he
^ot such an almanack in nis bones^ (from scourging,) as to incar
y acita te ium from learning this Scotch trick of a gwie memory."*
* Notes on the Phoenix Paftaral Letter, Johnson^s JVorktt pp. 317, 3)8.
VOL, X. S
274 NOTES ox THE HIND AND THE PAKTHEB.
But it is the rery character of moderate councils to be disgust-
ing to those who have beeo hurried beyond their patience by
oppression ; and Johnson's testimonyt though giTcn with a con-
trary view, is highly honourable to the bishop's prudence.
Note XXXI.
But he^ uncaltdf his patron to coiUroul,
Divulged the secret whispers of his souli
Stooajbrth the accusing Satan of his crimei^"
And ^gWd to the Moloch of the times.^F. 25/;.
In 16759 the House of Cororoons being resolred to assail the
13uke of Lauderdale^ and knowing that Burnet, in whom he had
once reposed much confidence, could bear witness to some dan-
gerous designs and expressions, appointed the doctor to attend
and be examined. His own account of this delicate transactioB
is as follows :
** In April 1675, a session of parliament was held, as prepara-
tonr to one that was designed next winter, in which money was
to be asked ; but none was now asked, it being only called to hod
all breaches* and to beget a good understanding between the king
and his people. The House of Commons fell upon Duke Lauder-
dale ; and tnose who knew what had passed between him and me*
moved, that I should be examined before a committee. I was
brought before them. I told them how I had been commanded
out of town ; but though that was illegal, yet since it had been
let fall, it was not insisted on. I was next examined concerning
his design of arming the Irish Papists. I said, I, as well as others,
had heard him say, he wished the Presbyterians in Scotland would
rebel, that he might bring over the Irish Papists to cut their
throats. I was next examined concerning the design of bringing
a Scottish army into £ngland. I desired to be excused, as to
what had passed in private discourse; to which I thought I was not
bound to answer, unless it were high treason. They pressed me
long, and I would give them no other answer ; so they all con-
cluded, that I knew great matters ; and reported this specially to
the House. Upon that I was sent for, and brought before the
House. I stood upon it as I had done at the committee, that I
was not bound to answer ; that nothing had passed that was high
treason ; and as to all other things, I did not think myself bound
to discover them. I said farther, I knew the Duke Lauderdale
was apt to say things in a heat, which he did not intend to do ;
and, since he had used myself so ill, I thought myself the more
obliged not to say any thing that looked like revenge, for what I
had met with from him. I wa» brought four times to the bar ;
at last I was told, the House thought they had a right to examine
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHEB. SUS
into every thing that concerned the safety of the nation^ as well
as into matters of treason ; and they looked on me as bonnd to
satisfy them^ otherwise they would make me feel the weight of
their heavy displeasure, as one that concealed what they thought
vas necessary to be known Upon this I yielded, and gave an
.account of the discourse formerly mentioned. They laid great
.weight on this^ and renewed their address against Duke Lauder-
dale.
f* I was much blamed for wliat I had done. Some, $p malce it
look the worse, added, that I had been, his chapUin^ which was
false ; and that I had beeo much obliged to him, though I had
never received any real.ohUg^ion frooi him, but had done him
flreat servic^^, for which I had been very unworthily requited ;
Yet the thing had an ill appearance, as the diisclosing of what had
passed in confidence ; though I make it a great question, how far
. even that ought to bind a man when the designs are very wickec^
and the person continued still in the same post and capacity of
jexecuting them. I have told the matter as it was, and must leave
jmyBeAi to th^ ceniar6 pf the reader. My love to my country, and
my private friendship, carried me, perhaps, too far ; especially
since I had declared much against clergymen's meddling in secu-
lar affairs, and yet had run myself so deep in them."?— i/tf^ory of
his Own Ti%$eSi Vol. I. p. 37^.
The discourse to which gurnet refers, was pf the fpllpwix^g daur
gerous tendency, and took place in Septe^nber 1673-
** Dfikfi, If the ki^g jshould need an army from Scotland, to
jtame those in England, might the Scots be depended upon?
'^ Burnet. Certainly not. The commons in the southern parts
are all Presbyterians. The nobility thought they had been ill
Aised, were generally discontented} and only waited for an oppor-
Xunity to she^^ it.
*' Duke. I am of another mind. The hope pf the spoil pf £ng«
tod will bring them all in^
*^ Burnett The king is ruined if he jtrusts to that ; for even in-
different persons, who might otherwise have been ready enough
;to push their forXunes without any an^ipus enquiries into the
grounds they went upon, wil) ngt npw trust the king, since he
has so lately said, he would stick to his declaration,* and yet has
•§0 soon given it up.
^< Duke. Hiuc iUoe lacrytn^. The king was forsaken in that
master, and none sticks to hiAi but Lord Clifford and mysel.f.*'--r
lialph, toilh the Authorities he quotes, Vol. I. p. 275.
James 1 1, afterwards revived the plan of maintaining a Scot-
tish standing army, to bridle his English subjects.
• The Declaration of Indulgence. Sec Vol. IX. p. 4t7.
276 NOTES ON THE HIND AND THK PANTBKS.
Note XXXII.
And runs an Indian muck at all he iitfe^.— P. 235.
To run a rouck> is a phrase derived from a practice of the Ma-
lays. When one of this nation has lost his whole sabstance by
gaming, or sustained any other ^;reat and insup^rtable calamity,
he intoxicates himself with opium ; and, haring dishevelled his
hair, rushes into the streets^ crying Amocco, or KmR, and stabbing
every one whom he meets with his creeze, until he is cut down,
or shot, like a mad dog.
Note XXXIII.
Such was, and is, the Captain of the Tcs^.— P. S86.
Burnet may have been thus denominated^ from having written
the following pamphlets, in the controversy respecting the Test,
against Parker, the apostate bishop of Oxford :—
** An Enquiry into the Reasons for Abrc^ting the Test impo>
sed on all Members of Parliament, offered by Dr Samuel Parker,
Bishop of Oxford/'
" A Second Part of the Enquiry into the Reasons offered by
Doctor Samuel Parker, Bishop of Oxford, for Abrogating the
Test ; or an Answer to his plea for Transubstantiation, and fcnr
Acquitting the Church of Rome of Idolatry."
^' A Continuation of the Second part of the Enquiry into the
Reasons offered by Dr Samuel Parker, Bishop of Oxford, fbr
Abrogating the Test relating to the Idolatry of the Church of
Rome."
These two last pamphlets were afterwards thrown together in
one tract, entitled, " A Discourse concerning Transubstantiation
and Idolatry, being an Answer to the Bishop of Oxford's plea re^
lating to these two points."
Burnet himself admits, that his papers^ in this controversy with
Parker, were written with an acrimony of style which nothing but
such a time and such a man could excuse. His papers were so
bitter, that nobody durst offer them to the Bishop of Oxford, till
the king himself sent them to him, in h<^es to stimulate him to
an answer.
Several of these pieces seem to have been published after ''The
Hind and the Panther ; ** but it must have been generally known
at the time^ that Burnet had placed himself in Uie front of this
controversy.
And much the Buzzard in their cause did stir.
Though naming not the patron, to infer.
With all resjpeet, he was a gross idolater.
878 XOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTREB.
true^ he had something to sink fVom, in matter of wit ; but ts for
his morals, it is scarce possible for him to grow a worse man than
he was. He has lately wreaked his malice on me for spoiling bis
three months* labour ; but in it he has done me all the honouir
that any man can receive from him, which is to be railed at by
him. If I had ill nature enough to prompt me to wish a Terr
bad wish for him, it should be, that he would go on and finish lui
translation. By that it will appear, whether the English nation*
which is the most competent judge in this matter> has, upon the
seeing our debate, pronounced in M. Varillas's favour, or m mine
It is true, Mr D. will suffer a little by it ; but at least it will
serve to keep him in from other extrayagancies ; and if he gains
little honour by this work, yet he cannot lose so much by it, as
he has done by his last employment."
Note XXXIV.
They long their fellofV'Subfectg to enthral^
Their patron's promise into question caUf
And vainly think he meant to make them lords ^aXU
P. 236.
■
Part of the controversy which now raged, turned on the pre-
cise meaning of the king's promise, to maintain the church of
England as by law established. The church party insisted, that
the Declaration of Indulgence was a breach of this promise, as it
suspended their legal safeguards, the test and penal laws. The
advocates for the toleration answered, that the promise was con-
ditional, and depended on the church consenting to the abroga-
tion of these laws. This was stated by Penn, in his '* Good Ad-
vice;" to which the following indignant answer is made by a
champion of the church, perhaps Burnet himself:
'< And if there be no other way of giving the king an opportu-
nity of keeping his word with the church of England, in preser-
ving her, and maintaining our religion, but the repealing of the
penal and test laws, as he intimates unto us, (Good Advice, p. 50|)
we have not found the royal faith so sacred and inviolable in other
instances, as to rob ourselves of a legal defence and protection,
for to depend upon the precarious one of a bare promise, which
his ghostly fathers, whensoever they find it convenient, will tell
him it was unlawful to make, and which he can have a dispensa-
tion for the breaking of, at what time he pleascth. Nor do we
remember, that when he pledged his faith unto us, in so many
promises, that the parting with our laws was declared to be the
NOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PANTHER. 279
condition upon which he made, and undertook to perform them
Neither can any have the confidence to allege it, without having
recourse to the Papal doctrine of mental reservation^ which be-
ing one of the principles of that order, under whose conduct he
is, makes us justly afraid to rely upon his word without further
security. However, we do hereby see, with what little sincerity
Mr Penn writes ; and what small regard he hath to his majesty's
honour, when he tells the church of England, that if she please,
and like the terms of giving up the penal and test laws against
Papists, that then the king will perform his word with her; (Good
Advice, p. 17.) but that otherwise, it is she who breaks with him,
and not he with her." — (Ibid. p. 44.)
Note XXXV.
Then, all maturely weigh^dt pronounced a doom
Of sacred strength for &oery age to come.
By this the Doves their wealth and state possess,
No rights infringed, but licence to oppress. — P. 237.
The declaration for liberty of conscience was a strange and in-
coneruousy as well as most impolitic performance. It set out with
decmring, that although the king heartily wished that all his sub-
iects were members of the Catholic church, (which they returned,
by heartily wishing that he were a Protestant,) yet he abhorred
all idea of constraining conscience ; and therefore, making no
doubt of the concurrence of Parliament^ declared, 1. That he
would protect and maintain the bishops, &c. of the church of
England, as J[)y law established, in the free exercise of their reli-
gion, and quiet enjoyment of their possessions. 2. Jhat all exe«
cution of penal laws against non-conformists be suspended. S.
That all his majesty's subjects should be at liberty to serve God
after their own way, in public and private, so nothing was preach-
ed against the royal authority. 4. That the oaths of supremacy
and allegiance, and the tests made in the 25th and 30th years of
Charles XL, be discontinued. 5. That all non-conformists be par-
doned for former offences against the penal laws and test. 6. lliat
abbey and church lands be assured to the possessors.
Such were the contents of this memorable Declaration, in which
a bigotted purpose was cloaked under professions of the highest
liberality ; and prevarication and falsehood were rendered more
disgusting, by being mingled with very unseasonable truth.
280 KOTES ON THE HIND AND THE PAMTHEB«
Note XXXVI.
Concluding inell toiihin his hmsly breasif
His Jowls of nature too unjumy were oppress s
He therefore makes all birds, of every sed.
Free of his farm, — P. 237-
When the king had irreconcileably quarrelled with the chordi,
he began to affect a sreat favour for the dissenters ; and^ as hai
been often hinted^ endeavoured to represent the measure of univer-
sal toleration to be intended as much for tlie benefit of tlie Pro-
testant dissenters as of the Catholics. He dwelt upon the rigour
of the church courts^ and directed an inquiry to be made into all
the vexatious suits which had been instituted against the dissen-
ters, and the compositions which had been exacted from them^
under pretence of enforcing the laws. In short, Burnet assures
us, that the rojal bed-chamber and drawing- roona were as full
of stories to the prejudice of the clergy, as they used formerly
to abound with declamations against the fanatics. ^
Note XXXVII.
*Tls said, the Doves repented, though too laie.
Become the smiths of their own foofvsh fate ;
Nor did their owner hasten their ill hour,
Butf sunk in credit^ they decreased in power ;
Like snows in warmth that mildly pass arvay.
Dissolving in the silence of decay, — P. 238.
In the preceding lines* the poet had intimated the increase of
trade and wealth ; an effect of toleration, much dwelt upon in
James's proclamation for liberty of conscience, and, indeed, the
ostensible cause of its being issued. But Dryden, as every one
else, further augured from the Declaration of Indulgence, under
the circumstances of the time, the speedy downfall of the church
of England, though he is willing to spare the king the odium of
hastening what he represents as the natural consequence of her
own ambition and intolerance. A writer of his party is less scru-
pulous in expressing the king's intentions : " So, on the whole
matter, the loyal church of England must either change her old
principles of loyalty, and take example by her Catholic neigh-
bours, how to behave herself towards a prince who is not of her
persuasion, or she must give his majesty leave not to nourish a
snake in his own bosom, but rather to withdraw his royal protec-
tion, which was promised on account of her constant fidelity :
For it is an approved axiom in philosophy, Cessante causa, toUitur
effectus ; and we have a common saying of our own, No longer
vcensM ON the hind and the faktheii. 281
jdpe, no knger dance. And now let us leave* the hf>]y mother
church at liberty to consult what new measures of loyalty slie
ought to take for her own dear interest, and, for aught I know^
4t may be worth her serious consideration/' — New Test of the
Church of England's Loyally.
Note XXXVIII.
But each have separate interests of their onm ;
Two Czars are one too many for a throne.
Nor can the usurper long abstain Jrom food;
Already he has tasted Ptgeon's bloody
And may be tempted to his former fare.-^V. 239.
Dryden insinuates the improbability^ that the high and low
church party would long continue in union, since the authority
assumed by Burnet^ their present advocate^ was inconsistent with
that of Sancroft the primate, Compton^ Bishop of London, and
other leaders of the high church party among the clergy. He re-
sumes the theme of Burnet's alleged disinclination for episcopacy.
In fact, although his lot cast him into the church of England, the
Bishop of Sarum, in many parts of his writings, expresses an un-
favourable opinion of her clergy, whom in one place he calls
the most remiss of any in Europe. Even this harsh expression
18 nothing to the following account* of the controversy between
the clergy and dissenters, as it stands in the MS. of his history ;
for it is greatly softened in the printed copy.
'* Many books came out likewise against the church of Eng-
land. This alarmed the bishops and clergy much ; so that they
set up to preach against rebellion, and the late times, in such a
strain, that it was visible they meant a parallel between these and
the present time. And this produced at last that heat and rage
into which the clergy has run so far, that it is like to end very
fatally. They, on their part, should have shewed more temper,
and more of the spirit of the gospel ; whereas, for the greatest
part, they are the worst natured, the fiercest, indiscreetest, and
most persecuting sort of people that are in the nation. There is a
sort of them do so aspire to preferment, that there is nothing so
mean and indecent that they will not do to compass it ; and when
they have got into preferments, they take no care, either of them-
selves, or of the flocks committed to their charge, but do general-
ly neslect their parishes. If they are rich enough, they hire some
gitif tu curate, at as low a price as they can, and turn all over on
im ; or, if their income will not bear out that, they perform the
public offices in the slightest manner they can, but take no care
of their people in the way of private instruction or admonition ;
and so do nothing to justify the character of pastors or watchmen,
13
288 NOTES ON.THE.HIKD AND THE . FAKTHES.
that feed the souls of their people, or watch over them. Ani
they allow themselves in many indecent liberties,— of going to
taverns and alehouses, and of railing scurrilously against all that
differ from them ; and tliey cherish the profaneness of their peo-
ple, if they but come to church, and rail with them agamst the
dissenters ; and are implacably set on the ruin of all Uiat sepa-
rate from them, if the course of their lives were otherwise ever
so good and unbiameable. In a word, many of them are a re-
proach to Cliristianity and to their profession ; and are now, per«i
haps, one of the most corrupt bodies of men in the nation."—
Somers* Tracts^ p. 116.
BRITANNIA REDIVIVA
A POEM
ON
THE BIRTH OF THE PRINCE,
(born on ths 10th JUNE, 1688.)
Dt pairii indigetes, et Romule, Vestaque maier,
QuoB Tuseum Tyberim et Romana pcdatia servos,
Hunc saltern everso puerum succurrere sobcIo
Ne prohibete I satis jampridem sanguine nostra
La/mttdontecs biimus perjuria Trqjas*
Vi&G. Georg. 1.
BRITANNIA REDIVIVA.
Tax remarkable incident^ which gave rise to the following
peeniy waa hailed by the Catholics with the most unbounded joy.
That fMurty, whose transient prosperity depended upon the decU«
niog life of James II., could hardly enjoy their present power^
•mbittered as it was by the reflection^ that it must end with tha
ittign of the king and the succession of the Princess of Orange.
Many circumstances seemed to render the hopes of the king ha-r
iriog a male heir of his body extremely precarious. His system
mat said to have been injured by early dissipation, and he was
now advanced in life. The queen» also, bad been in a bad state
€€ health ; had lost all her children soon after they were born ;
and had now^ for several years, ceased to have any. Amidst
these discouraging considerations^ the queen^s pregnancy was
announced in 1687 ; and even before his birth, addressers and
panegjrrists in verse hailed the future prince, as a pledge for the
nainteDance of liberty of conscience, and the security of the
Mjal line.*
But the Catholics were so transported with this unexpected
liapptness, that they could not refrain from spreading an hundred
follies, tending to connect the queen's pregnancy with the effi-
cacy of the king's faith. Some said» that the queen's conception
took place at the very time when her mother made a vow to the
Xiady of Loretto, that her daughter might by her means have a
aon : Others attributed it to the queen's personal influence with
Saint Xavier : Others to the intercessions of the Jesuits, among
* The addimMt-of the grand juries of the ooantiM of Mopmoutb, Stafibrdt
Gloeester, Yorkshire, && &c., all pressed forward upon this occasion, and are
ifl poAifve that the hhsscd hope of the queen*s womb must\Decessarily prove a
«Hh iiaee the king seemed to nave very httle oecasioB for more daughters. Ed-
■wmd Anrakcr is d iIm same opinien* in hie poem humbly dedicated to the
QoceD, on oocanon of her majes^s h^py conception.
886 BRITANNIA REDIVIVA.
whom the king had enrolled himself: All aicrilMd so bappj ind
unhoped an event to something more than mere Dataral camci,
and ventured to presage, that Uie joyful fruit of the queen'aoQi-
ception would prove a son, since otherwiset it waa said, God
would have done his work by halves.* It is dangerous for an-
ligious sect to cry, A miracle ! for it is always echoed by tbdr
adversaries^ shouting out. An imposture! The samecircumstaiioei
which induced the Catholics to oelieve that this happy event w»
owing to a peculiar divine interposition, led the nation to aseribe
so unexpected and opportune an occurrence to aitifiop and impo-
sition ; and they were prepared to pronounce a birth spuriooi,
which their adversaries had incautiously pushed to the vei^ of
miraculous.
. On the lOth of June, 1688, the prinee waabom^ under dron-
stances which ought to have removed all suspicion of impostan,
But these suspicions were too deeply rooted in party prejiidieei
and fears ; and it became a distinguishing mark of a true Fro*
testant, to hold for spurious the birth of a prince, which took
place in the presence of more people than is either consistol
with custom or decency.
In the mean while, public rejoicings, of the moat splendid
kind, were solemnized at home and abroad ;■)( and the poets
flocked with their addresses of congratulation :t ^^ ^^ birth of
« *' That which does us most hann with the lords a&d great men, is the ip*
prehension of a heretic successor : For as a lord told me lately, assure me of i
Catholic successor, and I assure you I and my family will be so too. To ^tm par*
pose the Queen's happy delivery will be of very great moment. Our zealoos Ci-
tholics do already lay two to one that it will be a prince. God does DoUni^ by
halves, and every day masses are said upon this very occa»on,**~^Letter from Fa-
ther Pctre to Father La Cliaise. This letter is a forgery, but it distinctly exprena
ihe hopes and apprehensions of both parties.
"f* The most remarkable were celebrated at the Hague, by the Marquis of Ab-
beville, his majesty's ambassador there. On one side of a triumphal arch weie
the figures of Truth and Justice, with this inscription : Veritas et JuHUiafdA'
vientiwi throni Patris et erunt met : On the other side were Religion and Libeitj
embracing, with this motto, Religio et Liberia* amplexatce erant. On the portioo
was painted the conquest of the dragon by St George, and the delivery of St
Margaret, explained to allude to the liberty of conscience procured by Jamo'i
abolition of the test and penal laws. These decorations, remarkable for their im-
port, and the place in which they were exhibited, were accompanied with the dis-
charge of iire-works, and other public rejoicings. There are particular accounts
of the splendid rejoicings at Ratisbon and Paris, &c. &c in the Gazettes oi the
period.
X As for example, the poets of Isis, in a collection called '< Strenee NataiUm
VI Cdcissimum principenu^-'Ojeoni ; E Theatro ShedonianOf 1688." CiHisistiiig
ftf l.atin, .Greek, Arabic, aQ4 Turkish, p^toral, heroic, and lyrical fueces, fm ^
liappy topic.
BRITANNIA REDIVIVA. 287
m Prince of Wales, who' was doomed shortly to be distinguished
through the £ngHsh dominions by the ignominious appellatiofi
of Pretender^ and abroad^ by the diubious title of Chevalier de St
George. It was peculiarly the part of our author, as poet-lau-
reatf and a good Catholicy to solemnize an event of so much im-r
nortance to the king, and those of his religion, and to bear down^
if posnble, the popular prejudice by the exertion of his poetical
.powers. ** Britannia Rediviva*' was written, nine days after the
eveatxdebrated, and published accordingly. It is licensed on
•the 19th of June.
, In this poem, our author assumes the tone and feeling which we
bave described as general among the Catholics, upon this happy
and unexpected event. It is less an address of congratulation
4luak a solemn devotional hjrmn ; and, even considered as such,
abeunds with expressions of awful gratitude, rather for a roira-
iCiiloos interposition of heaven and the blessed saints, than for a
blessiQg conferred through the ordinary course of nature. Dry-
den, who knew how to assume every style that fitted the occasion,
writes here in the character of a devout and grateful Catholic*
miih much of the uncUou which marks the hymns of the Roman
-church. In English poetry, we have hardly another example of
tlie peculiar tone which tlie invocation of saints, and an enthu-
aiasttc faith in the mystic doctrines of the Catholic faith, can give
to poetry. To me, I confess, that communion seems to offer the
aame fiicilities to the poet, which it has been long famous for af-
fisiding to the painter ; and the " Britannia Rediviva," while it
edebrates ^he mystic influence of the sacred festivals of the Pa-
ladete and the Trinity, and introduces the warlike forms of St
Michael and St George, has oflen reminded me of one of the an-
cient altar-pieces, which it is impossible to regard without reve-
rence, though presenting miracles which never happened, or saints
who never existed. These subordinate divinities are something
upon which the imagination, dazzled and overwhelmed by the
i^ontemplation of a single Omnipotent Being, can fairly rest and
expand itself. They approach nearer to humanity and to com-
prehension ; yet are suificiently removed from both, to have the
The following poems are in the Luttrell Collection ;
•• Votwnpro Principe*
** To the King, upon the Queen's being delivered of a Son ; by John Baber,
Esq.
*^ To the King, on ditto ; by William Niven, late master of the music school
of Inverness, in Scotland.*' Surely the very ultirna Thuie o£ poetry.
^* A Congratulatory Poem en ditto, by Mrs Beho.
•' A Pindarique Ode on ditto, by Calib Calle."
S88 BUITANXIA BEDIVIYA.
full eflTect of sublime obscurity. Dryden has undoubtedly reaped
considerable advantage from religion in the present poem. It
must, however, be owned, that the effect of these passages ii
much injured by the frequent allusion to the deities of classics!
mythology; and that Dryden has ranked the gods and goddesset
of ancient Rome with the saints of her modem church, in the
same indiscriminate order in which they are classed in the Pan-
theon. We have the Giants' War immediately preceding the
miracle wrought on tlie Shunamite's son ; and the serpents of the
infant Hercules are classed in the very sentence with the dragooi
of the Apocalypse. On one occasion he has stooped yet lower,
and condescended to pun upon the child s being bom on Trinity
Sunday, as promising at least a trine of infant princes*
Still, however, the strain of the poem is, upon the whole, grave
and exalted. B^des the general tone of ** Britannia Rediviva,"
there are many passages in it deserving the reader^s attention.
The address to the queen, beginning, ** But you^ propitioui
queen," has all the smoothness with which Dryden could vary
the masculine character of his general poetry, when he addressed
the female sex, and forms a marked contrast to the more majev
tic tone of the rest of the piece. It may indeed be said of Dry*
den, as he himself says of Virgil, that though he is smooth what
smoothness is required, yet he is so far from affecting that gcneni
character, that he seems rather to disdain it*
The original edition of the '* Britannia Rediyiva" ia in quartOi
printed, as usual, for Tonson, with a motto from the first book of
the Georgics, which is now restored. The concluding lines re£er
to the death of so many Catholics by the perjured evidences of
Gates and Bedlow :
mtU jampridem sanguine nottro
Laofnedoiitas luimus peijuria Trqjcs,
The word perjuriaf as well as Puerum, in the preceding pasr
sage, are marked by a difference of type ; a mode of soliciting
the attention of the reader to a pointed remark or inuendo, whi(£
was first used in Charles II.'s time, and seems to have been intro*
duced by L'£strange, who carried it to a most extravagant de-
gree, chequering his Observators with all manner of characterS|
from the Roman to the Anglo-Saxon*
BRITANNIA REDIVIVA.
OuB VOWS are heard betimes^ and heaven takes care
To grants before we can conclude the prayer ;
PijeVenting angels met it half the way.
And sent us back to praise, who came to pray.
Just on the day, when the high-mounted sun
Did farthest in its northern progress run, *
He bended forward, and even stretch'd the sphere
Beyond the limits of the lengthened year.
To view a brighter sun in Britain bom ;
That was the business of his longest mom ;
The glorious object seen, 'twas time to turn.
Departing spring coidd only stay to shed
Her gloomy beauties on the genial bed.
But left the manly summer in her stead.
With timely fruit the longing land to cheer.
And to fulfil the promise of me year.
Betwixt two seasons comes the auspicious heir.
This age to blossom, and the next to bear.
f^
* The 10th of June.
VOL. X. T
290 BRITANNIA EEDIVIVA*
Last solemn Sabbath * saw the church attend,
The Paraclete in fiery pomp descend ;
But when his wonderous octave f roll'd again.
He brought a royal infant in his train.
So great a blessing to so good a king,
None but the Eternal Comforter could bring.
Or did the mighty Trinity conspire.
As once in council to create our sire ?
It seems as if they sent the new-born guest.
To wait on the procession of their feast ;
And on their sacred anniverse decreed
To stamp their image on the promised seed.
Three realms united, and on one bestow'd.
An emblem of their mystic union show'd ;
The Mighty Trine the triple empire shared.
As every person would have one to guard.
Hail, son of prayers ! by holy violence
Drawn down from heaven ; :|: but long be banish'd
thence.
And late to thy paternal skies retire !
To mend our crimes, whole ages would require ;
To change the inveterate habit of our sins.
And finish what thy godlike sire begins*
Kind heaven, to make us Englishmen again.
No less can give us than a patriarch's reign.
The sacred cradle to your charge receive.
Ye seraphs, and by turns the guard relieve ;
Thy father's angel, and thy father join.
To keep possession, and secure the line :
But long defer the honours of thy fate ;
Great may they be like his, like his be late.
That James this running century may view.
And give this son an auspice to the new.
* Whitsunday.
f Trinity Sunday, the Octave of Whitsunday,
i Note 1.
BBITAKNIA REDIVIVA. S91
Our wants exact at least that moderate stay ;
, For, see the dragon * winged on his way.
To watch the travail, f and devour the prey^
Or, if allusions may not rise so high, .
' Thus, when Alcides raised his infant cry,
The snakes besieged his young divinity ;
But vainly with their forked tongues they threat,
For opposition makes a hero great.
To needful succour all the good will ruUj
I And Jove assert the godhead of his son.
i O, still repining at your present state, .
I Grudging yourselves the benefits of fate ;
j' XiOok up, and read in characters of light
; A blessing sent you in your own despite !
r The manna falls, yet that celestial bread,
f Lfike Jews, you munch, and murmur while you feed*
|j May not your fortune be, like theirs, exiled.
Yet forty years to wander in the wild !
Or, if it be, may Moses live at least.
To lead you to the verge of promised rest !
I Though poets are not prophets, to foreknow
I Whatplants will take the blight, and what will grow.
By tracing heaven, his footsteps may be found ;
Behold, how awfully he walks the round !
God is abroad, and, wondrous in his ways.
The rise of empires, and their fall, surveys ;
More, might I say, than with an usual eye,
[ He sees his bleeding church in ruins lie.
And hears the souls of saints beneatl^ his altar cry.
* Alluding only to the commonwealth party here, and in othe^i
parts of the poem. Dryden.— See Note II.
f Rev. xii. V. 4.
892 BRITANNIA REDIVIVA.
Already has he lifted high the sign.
Which crown'd the conquering anns of Constan-
tine.*
The moon f grows pale at that presaging sight,
And half her train of stars have lost their light
Behold another Sylvester, ^: to bless
The sacred standard, and secure success ;
Large of his treasures, of a soul so great.
As fills and crowds his universal seat*
Now view at home a second Constantine ; §
(The former too was of the British line^)
Has not his healing balm your breaches closed,
Whose exile many sought, and few opposed ? ^
O, did not heaven, by its eternal doom.
Permit those evils, that this good might come?
So manifest, that even the moon-eyed sects
See whom and what this Providence protects.
Methinks, had we within our minds no more
Than that one shipwreck on the fatal Ore, ||
That only thought may make us think again,
What wonders Gk)d reserves for such a reign.
To dream, that chance his preservation wrought,
Were to think Noah was preserved for nought ;
Or the surviving eight were not designed
To people earth, and to restore their kind.
• The Cross.
t The Crescent, which the Turks bear for their arms. Dry-
DEW. — Note III.
j[. The Pope, in the time of Constantine the Great ; alluding to
the present Pope. Dryden. — See Note IV.
§ King James II.
IF Bill of Exclusion.
II The Lemmon Ore, on which the vessel of King James was
lost in his return from Scotland. The crew perished, and he
himself escaped with difficulty. — See Vol. IX. p. 401.
BHIT ANNI A REBIVl VA . . 2d8
When humbly on the royal babe we gaze.
The manly lines of a majestic face
Give awful joy ; 'tis paradise to look
On the fair frontispiece of nature's book.
If the first opening page so charms the sight.
Think how the unfolded volume wiU delight !
See how the venerable* infant lies
In early pomp ; how through the mother's eyes
The father's soul, with an undaunted view,
Looks out, and takes our homage as his due !
See on his future subjects how he smiles.
Nor meanly flatters, nor with craft beguiles ;
But with an open face, as on his throne.
Assures our birthrights, and assumes his own.
Born in broad day-light, that the ungrateful rout
May find no room for a remaining doubt ;f
Truth, which itself is light, does darkness shun.
And the true eaglet safely dares the sun,
Fain:t would the fiends have made a dubious
birth,
liOth to confess the godhead clothed in earth ;
But, sicken'd after all their baffled lies.
To find an heir apparent in the skies,
Abandon'd to despair, still may they grudge.
And, owning not the Saviour, prove the judge.
Not great iBneas stood in plainer day, ||
When the dark mantling mist dissolved away ;
>w>
* Venerable is here used in its original sense, as deserving of
Teneration. But the epithet has been so commonly connected
with old age, that a modern poet would 'hardly venture to apply
it to an inmnt*
+ Note y.
i Alluding to the temptation in the wilderness.
II RestUit jEneaSf dar^que in luce refiihit,
Os, humerosque deo similis ; namque ipsa decoram
Cassariem nato senetrix, lumenquejuventaB
Purpureumf ei Taios oculis afflarai konores.
iEneid. Lib. I.
S94 BRITANNIA REDIVIVA.
He to the Tynans shew'd his sudden face.
Shining with all his goddess mothei^s grace ;
For she herself had made his countenance bright,
Breath'd honour on his eyes, and her own purple light
If our victorious Edward,* as they say.
Gave Wales a prince on that propitious day.
Why mav not years revolving with his fate
Produce his like, but with a longer date ;
One, who may Carry to a distant shore
The terror that his famed forefather bore ?
But why should James, or his young hero, stay
For slight presages of a name or day ?
We need no Edward's fortune to adorn
That happy moment when our prince was bom ;
Our prince adorns this day, and ages hence
Shall wish his birth-day for some future prince.
Great Michael, t prince of all the ethenal hosts,
And whate'er inborn saints our Britain boasts ;
And thou, the adopted patron t of our isle.
With cheerful aspects on this infant smile !
The pledge of heaven, which, dropping from above,
Secures our bliss, and reconciles his love.
Enough of ills our dire rebellion wrought,^
When to the dregs we drank the bitter draught ;
Then airy atoms did in plagues conspire.
Nor did the avenging angel yet retire.
But purged our still-increasing crimes with fire
Then perjured plots, || the still impending test,**
And worse — f f but charity conceals the rest.
* Edward the Black Prince, born on Trinity Sunday.
f The motto of the poem explained.
X St George.
IT 'i he great Civil War.
§ The Fire of London.
II The Popish plot.
** The Test-act.
ft The death of the Jesuits, executed for the Plot.
BRITANNIA BEDIVIVA. 295
Here stop the current of the sanguine flood ;*
Require not, gracious (iod ! thy martyrs' blood ;
But let their dying pangs, their living toil, '
Spread a rich harvest through their native soil ;
A harvest ripening for another reign.
Of which this royal babe may reap the grain.
Enough of early saints one womb has given.
Enough increased the family of heaven ;•
JLet them for his and our atonement go.
And, reigning blest above, leave him to rule below;
. Enough already has the year foreslow'd
His wonted course, the sea has overflow'd.
The meads were floated with a weeping spring.
And frighten'd birds in woods forgot to sing ;
The strong-limb'd steed beneath his harness faints.
And the same shivering sweat his lord attaints.f
When wijl the minister of wrath give o'er ?
Behold him at Araunah's threshing-floor !
He stops, and seems to sheathe his flaming brand.
Pleased with burnt incense from our Diavid's hand ;l
David has bought the Jebusite's abode.
And raised an altar to the living God*
Heaven, to reward him, makes his joys sincere ;
No future ills nor accidents appear.
To sully and pollute the sacred infant's yefar.
Five months to discord and debate were given ;||
He sanctifies the yet remaining seven.
Sabbath of months ! henceforth in him be blest.
And prelude to the realm's perpetual rest !
Let his baptismal drops for us atone ;§
Lustrations for offences not his own :
* All the queen's former children died in infancy*
"^ The year 1688^ big with so many events of importance,
commenced very unfavourably with stormy weather^ and an epi-
demical distemper among men and cattle.
X 1 Kings^ chap, xxxiv*
IJ Note VL
Original sin, supposed to be washed off by baptism.
I
S96 BBITAKNIA REDIVIVA.
Let conscience, which is interest ill
In the^same font be cleansed, and all the land bap-
tized.
Unnamedf as yet ; at least unknown to fame ;
Is there a strife in heaven about his name.
Where every famous predecessor vies,
And makes a faction for it in the skies ?
Or must it be reserved to thought alone ?
Such was the sacred T6tragrammaton4
Things worthy silence must not be reveal'd ;
Thus the true name of Rome^ was kept conceal^
To shim the spells and sorceries of those.
Who durst her infant majesty oppose.
But when his tender strength in time shall rise
To dare ill tongues, and fascinating eyes^
This isle, which hides the little Thunderer's fame.
Shall be too narrow to contain his name.
The artillery of heaven shall make him known ;
Crete || could not hold the god, when Jove was
grown.
As Jove's increase,^ who from his brain was bom,
Whom arms and arts did equally adorn.
Free of the breast was bred, whose milky taste
Minerva's name to Venus had debased ;
So this imperial babe rejects the food.
That mixes monarch's with plebeian blood,**
* See « The Hind and the Panther," p. 224?.
f The prince christened, but not named.
X Jehovah^ or the name of God, unlawful to be pronounced by
the Jews. Dryden.
§ Some authors say^ that the true name of Rome was kept a
secret, ne hostes incantamentis deos elicerent. Dryden.
II Candia, where Jupiter was born and lived secretly. Dryden.
IF Pallas, or Minerva, said by the poets to have been bred up
by hand. Dryden.
** The prince had no wet nurse.
BRITANNIA KEDIVIVA. €97
Food that his inborn courage might controul^
Extinguish all the father in his soul.
And for his Estian race, and Saxon strain.
Might reproduce some Second Richard's reign.
Mildness he shares from both his parents' blood ;
But kings too tame are despicably good.
Be this the mixture of this regal child.
By nature manly, but by virtue mild.
Thus far the furious transport of the news
Had to prophetic madness fired the muse ;
Madness ungovernable, uninspired,
• Swift to foretel whatever she desired.
Was it for me the dark abyss to tread.
And read the book which angels cannot read ?
How was I punish'd, when the sudden blast*
The face of heaven, and our young sun, o'ercast !
Fame, the swift ill increasing as she roU'd,
Disease, despair, and death, at three reprises told.
At three insulting strides she stalk'd the town.
And, like contagion, struck the loyal down.
Down fell the winnow'd wheat; but, mounted high,
The whirlwind bore the chaff, and hid the sky.
Here black rebellion shooting from below,
(As earth's gigantic brood by moments grow,)
And here the sons of Grod are petrified with, woe.
An apoplex of grief ! so low were driven
The saints, as hardly to defend their heaven.
As, when pent vapours run their hollow round.
Earthquakes, which are convulsions of the ground.
Break bellowing forth, and no confinement brook.
Till the third settles what the former shook ;
Such heavings had our souls, till, slow and late.
Our life with his return'd, and faith ppevail'd on
fate.
* The sudden false report of the prince's death. See Note VII.
S98 BRITANNIA REDIYIVA.
By prayers the mighty blessing was implored.
To prayers was granted, and by prayers restored.
So, ere the Shunamite a son conceived.
The prophet promised, and the wife believed ;
A son was sent, the son so much desired.
But soon upon the mother's knees expired*
The troubled seer approached the mournful door.
Ran, pray'd, and sent his pastoral staff before.
Then stretch'd hislimbsupon thechild,andmoum'd,
Till warmth, and breath, and a new soul retum'A*
Thus mercy stretches out her hand, and saves
Desponding Peter, sinking in the waves.
As when a sudden storm of hail and rain
Beats to the ground the yet unbearded grain.
Think not the hopes of harvest are destroyed
On the flat field, and on the naked void ;
The light, unloaded stem, from tempest freed.
Will raise the youthful honours of his head ;
And, soon restored by native vigour, bear
The timely product of the bounteous year.
Nor yet conclude all fiery trials past.
For heaven will exercise us to the last ;
Sometimes will check us in our full career.
With dotibtful blessings, and with mingled fear.
That, still depending on his daily grace.
His every mercy for an alms may pass ;
With sparing hands will diet us to good.
Preventing surfeits of our pamper'd blood.
So feeds the mother bird her craving young
With little morsels, and delayfe them long.
True, this last blessing was a royal feast ;
But Where's the wedding-garment on the guest ?
Our manners, as religion were a dream.
Are such as teach the nations to blaspheme.
* 2 Kings, chap. iv.
BEITADTNIA EEDIVIVA. 299
In lusts we wallow, and with pride we swell.
And injuries with injuries repel ;
Prompt to revenge, not daring to forgive.
Our lives unteach the doctrine we believe.
Thus Israel sinn'd, impenitently hard.
And vainly thought the present ark their guard ;*
But when the haughty Philistines appear, "4
They fled, abandon'd to their foes and fear ; >-
Their God was absent, though his ark was there J
Ah ! lest our crimes should snatch this pledge away.
And make our joys the blessings of a day !
For we have sinn'd him hence, and that he lives,
Grod to his promise, not our practice, gives.
Our crimes would soon weigh down the guilty scale,
But James and Mary, and the church prevail.
Nor Amalekf can rout the chosen bands.
While Hur and Aaron hold up Moses' hands.
By living well, let us secure his days.
Moderate in hopes, and humble in our ways.
No force the free-born spirit can constrain.
But charity, and great examples gain.
Forgiveness is our thanks for such a day ;
'Tis godlike God in his own coin to pay.
But you, propitious queen, translated here,
From your mild heaven, to rule our rugged sphere,
Beyond the sunny walks, and circling year ;
You, who your native climate have bereft
Of all the virtues, and the vices left ;
Whom piety and beauty make their boast.
Though beautiful is well in pious lost ;
So lost as star-light is dissolved away.
And melts into the brightness of the day ;
Or gold about the royal diadem,
Lost, to improve the lustre of the gem, —
* I Samuel, chap. iv. v. 10.
f Exodus, chap. xvii. ▼• 8.
800 BRITANNIA BEDIVITA.
What can we add to your triumphant day ?
Let the mreat gift the beauteous giver pay ;
For shomd our thanks awake the rising sun.
And lengthen, as his latest shadows run
That, though the longest day» would aooDi
soon be done.
Let angels' voices with their harps conspire^
But keep the auspicious in&nt from the
Late let him sing above, and let us know
No sweeter music than his cries below.
Nor can I wish to you, great monarch, more
Than such an annual income to your store ;
The day, which gave this unit, did not shine .
For a less omen, than to fill the trine.
After a prince, an admiral beget ;
The Royal Sovereign wants an anchor yet
Our isle has younger titles still in store.
And when the exhausted ]and can yield no more.
Your line can force them from a foreign shore
The name of great your martial mind will suit;
But justice is your darling attribute.
Of all the Greeks, 'twas but one hero's due,*
And, in him, Plutarch prophesied of you.
A prince's favours but on few can fall.
But justice is a virtue shared by all.
Some kings the name of conquerors have assumed,
Some to be great, some to be gods presumed ;
But boundless power, and arbitrary lust.
Made tyrants still abhor the name of just ;
They shunn'd the praise this godlike virtue gives,
And fear'd a title that reproach'd their lives.
The Power, from which all kings derive their
state.
Whom they pretend, at least, to imitate.
"* Aristides. See his Life in Plutarch.
BRITANNIA REDIVIVA. 801
Is equal both to punish and reward ;
For few would love their God, unless they fear'd.
Resistless force and immortality
Make but a lame, imperfect deity ;
Tempests have force unbounded to destroy.
And deathless being even the damn'd enjoy ;
And yet heaven's attributes, both last and first,
One without life, and one with life accurst ;
But justice is heaven's self, so strictly he.
That could it fail, the godhead could not be.
This virtue is your own ; but life and state
Are, one to fortune subject, one to fate.
£qual to all, you justly frown or smile ;
Nor hopes nor fears your steady hand beguile
Yi>urself our balance hold, the world's our
NOTES
ON
BRITANNIA REDIVIVA.
■•f
Note L
Hail, son of prayers ! by holy violence
Drawn down from heaven ! P, 290.
We have noticed, in the introduction, that the birth of a Prince
of Wales, at a time of such critical importance to the Catholic
faith^ was looked upon, by the Papists, as little less than miraca-
lous. Some talked of the petition of the Duchess of Modena to
Our Lady of Loretto ; and Burnet affirms, that, in that famous
chapel, there is actually a register of the queen's conception, in
consequence of her mother's vow. But, m that case, the good
duchess's intercession must have been posthumous ; for she died
upon the 19th July, and the queen's time run from the 6th of
October. Others ascribed the event to the king's pilgrimage to St
Winifred's Well ; and others, among whom was the Earl of Mel-
fort, suffered their zeal to hurry them into profaneness, and spoke
of the angel of the Lord moving the Bath waters, like the Pool
of Bethsaida. But the Jesuits claimed to their own prayers the
principal merit of procuring this blessing, which, indeed, they had
ventured to prophesy ; for, among other devices which that order
exhibited to the English ambassador from James to the Pope,
there was, according to Mr Misson, one of a lily, from whose
leaves distilled some drops of water, which were once supposed, by
NOTES ON BRITANNIA REDIVIVA. 308
imturalifltfl, to become the seed of new lilies : the motto was — La^
ehrimor in prdem — '* I weep for children." Beneath which was
the following distich ; —
Pro natUt Jacobe, gemUiflot candide regttm !
Hos natma tibi H neget, attra dabunU
Fov sqiw, fair noWe^ pf kings, whf melts thine eye ?
The heavens shall grant what nature may deny.
Ndte II.
For, see the dragon rvin^Sd on his tvay^
To watch the travail, and devour the frey — P. 291.
" And the dragon stood before the woman, who was ready to
be delivered^ for to devour her child, as soon as it was born."— -
Revel, xii. 4. Dryden is at pains, by an original marginal note,
which^ with others^ is restored in this edition, to explain that, by
this allusion here, and in other parts of the poem, he meant, /' the
commonwealth's party." The acquittal of the bishops on the
17th of June, two days before the poem was licensed, must have
excited a prudential reverence for the church of England in the^
moment of her triumph. The poet fixes upon this commonwealth
party therefore, exclusively, the common reports which had beea
(urculated during the queen's pregnancy^ and which are thus no-«
ticed in the (supposititious) letter to Father La Chaise: ''As to
the queen's being with child, that great concern goes as well as
we could wish, notwithstanding all the satirical discourses of the
heretics, who content themselves to rent their poisons in libels,
which^ by night, they disperse in the street, or fix upon the walls^
, There was one lately found upon a pillar of a church, that im-
ported, that such a day thanks should be given to God for the
queen's being great with a cushion. If one of these pasquil-ma-
kers could be discovered, he would but have an ill time on't, and
should be made to take his last farewell at Tyburn."
The usual topics of wit, during the queen's pregnancy, were,
allusions to a cushion^ a tympany, &c. &c. ; and Partridge, the
Protestant almanack-maker, utters the following predictions :— ■
•* That there was some bawdy project on foot, either about buy-
ing, selling, or procuring, a child or children, for some pious uses."
And, again, " Some child is to be topped upon the lawful heirs^
to cheat them out of their right and estate." — God preserve the
kingdom of England from invasion ! for about this time I fear it
|p earnest, and keep the Protestants there from being dragooned.'*
One single circumstance is sufficient to rout all suspicions thus
carefully infused into the people. It is well known, and is ncK-
ticed in one of L'Estrange's papers at the time, that a similar outr
cry was raised during a former pregnancy of the queen ; bu^ thp
304 NOTES ON BRITANNIA REDIVIVA.
child proving a female, there was no use for pushing the calunmy
any further upon that occasion.
Note III.
Already has he lifted high the sigtiy
Which crotvn'd tfie conquering arms of Constanline :
The moon grows pale at that presaging sight.
And half Iter train of stars have lost their lighi^^^V. 992,
The public exercise of the Catholic religion hi Eneland is com-
pared to the miraculous display of the cross, with the mottOy h
hoc sigtio vinccs ; which is said to have appeared to Constantine
on the eve of his great victory.
The war against the Turks, which was now raging in Hungaiyi
seems to have occupied much of James's attention. He amused
himself with anxiety about the fate of this holy war&re^ as he pro-
bably thought ity while his own crown was tottering on his head.
In all his letters to the Prince of Orange, he expresses his wisZieC
for the peace of Christendom, that the emperor and the Vene*
dans might have leisure to prosecute the war against the Toris;
and conjectures about the talking of Belgrade, and the progress of
the Duke of Lorraine, arc very gravely sent, as interesting mat*
ter, to the prince, who was anticipating the conquest of England,
and the dethronement of his father-in-law. There may be some-
thing of affectation in this ; but, as Dry den takes up the same
tone, it may be supposed to have forwarded James's general cod«
versation, as well as his letters to the Prince of Orange.— i&e Dal-
RYMrL£*8 Memoirs, Appendix to Book V,
Note IV.
Behold another Sylvester to bless
The sacred standard^ and secure success ;
Large of his treasures^ of a soul so greats
As Jills and crowds his universal seai.'^V, 292*
Dryden talks of the Pope with the respect of a good Catholic.
Nevertheless it happened, by a very odd chance, that, while the
throne of England was held by a Catholic, for the first time during
the course of a century, the chair of St Peter was occupied by
Innocent XI. who acquired the uncommon epithet of the Protest*
ant Pope. He received, with great coldness, the Earl of Castle-
main, whom James sent to Rome as his ambassador, and refused the
only two requests which a King of England had made to Rome since
the days of Henry Vlil., although they were only a dispensation
to Petre the king's confessor, to hold a bishopric, and another to the
Mareschal D'Humier's daughter to marry within the prohibited de-
13
NOTKS ON BRITANNIA REt)IVlVA. 305
grees. Nay, the Pope is said to have privately admitted the Prince
of Orange's envoy to his confidence, while he treated Castlemaine
■with so much contempt. The cause of this coldness was the
Pope's quarrel with James's ally, Louis, and his dislike to the or-
der of Jesuits, by whom the king of England was entirely ruled.
In truth, Innocent XI. was much more anxious to maintain the
privileges of the Roman see against those princes who retained
tier communion, than to add England to a flock which was be-
come so mutinous and intractable. He was, besides, a man of no
extended views, and chiefly concerned himself with managing the
papal revenue, involved in debt by a succession of wasteful pontifi-
cates. To this the conversion of England promised no immediate
addition, and, with the narrowness of view natural to his pursuits.
Innocent XI. thought it better to employ his exertions in realizing
an immediate income, than in endeavouring to extend the faith
and authority of the church, by embarking in a design of great
doubt and hazard. He was, therefore, but a very poor represen-
tative of Pope Sylvester. As for the last two lin^s, they contain,
what we seldom meet with in Dryden's poetry, a compliment
not only bombastic, but unappropriate, and even unmeaning.
Note V.
Born in hroad day -light, that the ungrateful-rout
Mayjind no roomfoif a remaining doubt, -^F, 293.
In these lines, and the following, where the poet, with indecent
freedom, compares the suspicions entertained of a spurious birth
to the Devil's doubts concerning our Saviour's godhead, he al-
ludes to those circumstances of publicity, which one would have
supposed might have rendered the birth of the prince indisputable.
It took place at ten o'clock in the morning ; and eighteen privy
counsellors, besides a number of ladies, were present at the delivery.
But the party violence of the period was so extravagant, as to re-
ceive and circulate a variety of reports, inconsistent with each
other, and agreeing only in the general conclusion, that the child
was an imposition upon the nation. The reasoning of the Bishop
of Salisbury, on this point, is admirably summed up by Smol-
let.
" On the loth of June, 1688, the queen was suddenly seized
•with labour-pains, and deliveredof a son, who was baptized by the
name of James, and declared Prince of Wales. All the Catholics
and friends of James^were transported with the most extravagant
joy at the birth of this child ; while great part of the nation con-
soled themselves with the notion, that it was altogether supposi-
titious. They carefully collected a variety of circumstances, upon
which this conjecture was founded; and though they were incon-
VOL. X. U
306 NOTES ON BRITANNIA REDIVIVA.
sistenty contradictory, and inconclusive, the inference was so
agreeable to the views and passions of the people, that it made an
impression which^ in all probability^ will never be totally effaced.
Dr Burnet, who seems to have been at uncommonpains to esta-
blish this belief, and to have consulted all the Wni^ nurses in
England upon Uie subject, first pretends to demonstrate, that the
queen was not with child ; secondly, that she was with child, but
miscarried ; thirdly, that a child was brought into the queen's
apartment in a warming-pan ; fourthly^ that there was no child
at all in the room ; fifthly, that the aueen actually bore a child,
but it died that same day ; sixthly, tnat it had the fits* of which
it died at Richmond; therefore, the Chevalier de St George
must be the fruit of four different impostures."
Note VI.
Five months to discord and debate were ^t;en.— — P. 295.
During the five months preceding the birth of the Chevalier de
St George, James was wholly engaged by those feuds and dis-
sentions which tended to render irreparable the breach between
him and his subjects. The arbitrary attacks upon the privileges
of Magdalen College, and of the Charter-House, fell nearly
within this period* Above all, the petition of the seven bishops
against reading the Declaration of Indulgence, their imprison-
ment, their memorable trial and acquittal, had all taken place
since the month of April ; and it is well known to what a state
of violent opposition the nation had been urged by a train of ar-
bitrary acts of violence, so imprudently commenced, and perverse-
ly insisted in. Dry den, like other men of sense, probably began
to foresee the consequences of so violent and general irritation ;
and expresses himself in moderate and soothing lan^age, both
as to the past and future. Nothing is therefore dropt which can
offend the church of England. Perhaps they may have been
spared by the royal command ; for it seems, as is hinted by a let-
ter from Halifax to the Prince of Orange, that, not findmg his
expectations answered by the dissenters^ whom he had so great-
ly favoured of late, James entertained thoughts of returning to
his old friends, the High. churchmen : '^ but the truth is," his
lordship adds, " the Papists have of late been so hard and fierce
upon them, that the very species of those formerly mistaking
men is destroyed ; they have so broken that loom in pieces, that
they cannot now set it up again to work upon it."— Dal-
uymple's Memoirs* Appendix to Book V.
NOTES ON BRITANNIA REDlVIVA. 307
Note VII.
When the sudden blast,
Thejhce of heaven^ and our young sun, o'ercastf
FamCf the swift ill increasing as she rdVd,
Disease f despair, and deaths at three reprises told.'^V. 297*
There was, Dryden informs us, a report of the prince's death,
to which he alludes.* James^ in a letter to the Prince of Orange^
dated June 12, mentions the birth of his son on the Sunday
preceding, and adds^ ''the child was somewhat ill this last
night, of the wind, and some gripes, but is now, blessed be God,
very well, and like to have no returns of it, and is a strong boy."
About this illness, Burnet tells the following gossipping story :
•' That night, one Hemings, a very worthy man, an apothecary
by his trade, who lived in St Martin's Lane, the very next door
to a ^unily of an eminent Papist, (Brown, brother to the Vis«
count Montacute, lived there ;) the wall between his parlour and
their's being so thin, that he could easily hear any thing that was
said with a louder voice, he (Hemings) was reading in his par-
lour late at night, when he heard one come into the neighbour-
ing parlour, and say, with a doleful voice, the Prince of Wales is
dead: Upon whidi a great many that lived in the house came
down stairs very quick. Upon this confusion he could not hear
any thing more ; but it is plain they were in a great consterna-
tion* He went with the news next morning to the bishops in
the Tower. The Countess of Clarendon came thither soon after,
and told them, she had been at the young prince*s door, but wa;?
denied access : she was amazed at it ; and asked, if they knew
her : they said, they did ; but tliat the queen had ordered, that
no person whatsoever should be suffered to come in to him. This
gave credit to Hemings' story ; and looked as if all was ordered
to be kept shut up close, till another child was found. One, that
saw the child two days after, said to me, that he looked strong,
and not like a child so newly bom."
The poem of Dryden plainly proves, that such a repprt was so
far from being confined amon^ the Catholics, that it was spread
over all the town ; and ^b^t the worthy Mr Hemings over-heard
in his next neighbour's^ the Papist's, might probably have been
heard in an^ company in London that evening, although tlie mode
of communication would doubtless have been doleful or joyous,
according to the party and religion of the news-bearer.
PROLOGUES
AND
EPILOGUES.
• II
• ; oao}: 'i
*'•/'.
I
/'i'n.i jM,'!
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES,
The Prologue of the English drama was originally, like that of
the ancients, merely a kind of argument of the play, instructing
the audience concerning those particulars of the plot^ which were
necessary in order to understand the opening of the piece. That
this mignt be done more artificially^ it was often spoken in the cha-
racter of some person connected with the preceding history of the
intrigue^ though not properly one of the dramatis persorue. But
when increasing refinement introduced the present mode of open-
ing the action m the course of the play itself^ the prologue be-
came a preliminary address to the audience^ bespeaking their at-
tention and favour for the piece. The epilogue had always borne
this last character^ being merely an extension of the ancient ** va^
lete et plaudiie y" an opportunity seized by the performers, after
resignmg their mimic cnaracters, to pay their respects to the pub-
lic in their own, and to solicit its approbation of their exertions.
By degrees it assumed a more important shape, and was indulged
in descanting upon such popular topics as were likely to interest
the audience, even though less immediately connected with the
actors' address of thanks, or the piece they had been performing.
Both the prologue and epilogue had assumed their present cha-
tacter so early as the days of Shakespeare and Jonson.
With the revival of dramatic entertainments, after the Resto-
ration, these addresses were revived also ; and a degree of conse-
quence seems to have been attached to them in that witty age,
which they did not possess before, and which has not since been
given tq them. They were not only used to propitiate the au-
uience ; to apologize for the players, or poet ; or to satirize the
follies of the day, which is now their chief purpose ; but they
became, during the collision of contending factions, vehicles of
political tenets and political sarcasm, which could, at no time,
312 niOLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
I
be insinuated with more siicc^ss^ tlian when clothed in nervous
verse^ and delivered with all the advantages of elocution to an
audience^ whose numbers rendered the impression of poetry and
eloquence more contagious.
It is not surprising that Drjden soon obtained a complete and
absolute supericx'ity^ in this style of composition^ over all who pre-
tended to compete with him. While the harmony of his verse
gave that advantage to the speaker^ which was wanting in tbe
harsh, coarse, broken measure of his contemporaries, his powon
of reasoning and of satire lefl them as far behind in sense as in
sound. This superiority, and the great influence which he bad in
the management of the theatre^ made it usual to invoke his as-
sistance in the case of new plays ; many of which he accordingly
furnished either with prologues or epilogues. The players Siao
had recourse to him upon any remarkable occasion ; as^ wh«i a
new house was opened ; when the theatre was honoured by a
visit from the king or duke ; when they played at Oxford^ during
the public acts ; or, in short, in all cases when an occasional pn><
logue was thought necessary to grace their performance*
The collection of these pieces, which follows, is far from being
the least valuable part of our author's labours. The variety and
richness of fancy which they indicate, is one of Dryden's mmt
remarkable poetical attributes. Whether the theme be^ the youth
and inexperience, or the age and past services^ of the author ; the
plainness or magnificence of a new theatre ; the superiority of an-
cient authors, or the exaltation of tlie moderns ; the censure of
political faction, or of fashionable follies; the praise of the mo-
narch, or the ridicule of the administration ; the poet never fails
to treat it with the liveliness appropiate to verses intended to be
spoken, and spoken before a numerous assembly. The manner
which Drydcn assumes, varies also with the nature of his au-
dience. The prologues and epilogues, intended for the London
stage, are writen in a tone of superiority, as if the poet, conscious
of the justice of his own laws of criticism, rather imposed them
upon the public as absolute and undeniable, than as standing in
need of their ratification. And if he sometimes condescends to
solicit, in a more humble style, the approbation of the audience,
and to state circumstances of apology, and pleas of fevour, it is
only in the case of other poets ; for, in the prologues of his own
})lays, he always rather demands than begs their applause ; and
if he acknowledges any defects in the piece, he takes care to in-
timate, that they arc introduced in compliance with the evil taste
of the age ; and that the audience must take the blame to them-
selves, instead of throwing it upon the writer. This bold style
of address, although it occasionally drew upon our author the
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 313
charge of presumption^ was, nevertheless, so well supported by
his perception of what was just in criticism, and his powers of de-
fending even what was actually wrong, that a miscellaneous au-
dience was, in general, fain to submit to a domination as success-
fully supported as boldly claimed. In the Oxford prologues, on
tl^e other hand, the audience furnished by that seat of the Muses,
as ofmore competent judgment, are addressed with more respect-
ful deference by the poet.* He seems, in these, to lay down his
rules of criticism, as it were under correction of supenor judges ;
and intermingles them with such compliments to the taste and
learning of the members of the university, as he disdains to be-
stow upon the motley audience of the metropolis. In one style^
Uie author seems dictating to scholars, whose conceit and pre-
sumption must be lowered by censure, to make them sensible
of their own deficiencies, and induce them to receive the offered
instruction ; in the other, he seems to deliver his opinions before
men, whom he acknowledges as his equals^ if not his superiors^
in the arts of which he is treating. And although Brown has very
grossly charged Dryden with having affected, for the university,
an esteem and respect which he was &x from really feeling ; and
with having exposed its members, in their turn, to the ridicule of
the London audience, whom he had stigmatized in his Oxford pro-
logues as void of taste and judgment ; it is but fair to state, that no-
rthing can be produced in proof of such an accusation.-j* In another
* Our author*8 several modes of coaxing or buUjring the audience in the pio*
logues, are ridiculed in the '* Rehearsal ;" where Bayes says, ** You must knt>#
there is in nature but two ways of making very good prologues ;— the one is, by
civility, by insinuation, good language, and all that, to a in a manner
steal your plaudit from the courtesy of the auditors : the other, by making use
of 8ome certain personal things, which may keep a hank upon such censuring
persons as cannot otherwise, egad, in nature, be hindered from being too free
with their tongues.**
j- The foUowing is the statement of the accusation in Tom*8 peculiar style,
bemg a sort of cant jargon, not void of low humour :
' ** Bayci* Now, there being but three remarkable places in the whole island ;
that is, the two universities, and the great metropolitan dty ; I shall, consequent-
ly, cthifine my discourse only to them : But, first of all, I must teU you, that I
am altogether of my Lord Plausible^s opinion in the ' Plain Dealer ;* if I chance
to commend any place, or order of men, out of pure friendship, I choose to do it
before their faces ; and if I have occasion to speak ill of any person or place, out
of a principle of respect and good manners, I do it behind their backs. You
cannot imagine, Mr Critcs, when I visit either of the two universities, in my own
person, or by my commissioners of the playhouse, how much I am taken with a
ooUege life : Oh, there's nothing like a cheese cut out into farthings ! and my
Lord Mayor, amidst all his brutal city luxury, does not dine half so well as a
student upon a single chop of rotten roasted mutton ; nay, I can scarce prevail
314 PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
respect, the reader may remark a pleasing difierenoe between tbe
Lond(Hi prologues and epilogues, and those spoken at Oxford. The
licence of the times permitted, and even exacted from an author,
in these compositicms, the indulgence of an indelicatie vein of ho-
whh mjfldf, for a month or two after, to eat my meat od a plate, so great a re-
spect have I for a miiTersity trendier ; and then their c on v e raation is so leanMi,
aJMl withal so innocent, that I could dt a whole day together at a co fi ba> h oo« to
hear them dinmte about aciui pcripicuif and forma nUtiL Prom thia ?ry!*ftff^
1 naturally fall a railing at London, with as much zeal as a BQdJiigham.shiie
grazier, who had his poieket pidced at a Smithfield entertainment ; or a oounbj
lady, whose obsecniious knight has spent his estate among misses, vintners, and
linen-drapers; and then I tell my audience, that a man may walk fiotber in d»
dty to meet a true judge of poetry, than ride his horse on Salisbury Plain to tad
a house.
London likes grossly, but this nicer pit
Examines, fathoms, all the depths m wit.
You sec here, Mr Crites, that «diolar8 won't take Alderman DnneomVi leadea
halfpence for Irish half-crowns, while your dull Londoner swallows every thing {
and takes it with as little consideration, as a true Romanist takes a qiiritual dsK
of relicks, that are sealed up with the council of Trent^s ooat-of-arms.
Eugen. How was that, Mr Bayes, about the council of Trent ? Pray, kt as
hear it again.
Bayes. Gad forgive me for^t !— it dropt from me ere I was aware ; but I shall
in time wear off this hitching in my gait, and walk in Catholic trammels as wdl
as the best of them ; nature, I must confess, is not overcome on the sudden— But
let me see, gentlemen, whether I have any more lines to our last purpose ; ob,
here they are I
Poetry, which is in Oxford made
An art, in London only is a trade.
Our poet, could he find forgiveness here,
Would wish it rather than a plaudit there.
You are sensible, without question, how little beholden the city is to me, when I
am upon nay progress elsewhere But *tis a comfort that this peremptory humour
does not continue long upon me ; for, as I have the grace to disown my mother-
university, with a jug in one hand, and a link in the other, when I am at Ox-
ford,—
Thebes did his green unknowing years engage ;
He chuses Athens in his riper age,— >
so, when I am got amongst my honest acquaintance here in Covent<Garden, I dis*
own both the sisters, and make m3rsclf as merry as a grig, with their greasy trench-
ers, rusty salt-sellers, and no napkins, with thdr everlasting drinking, and no in-
tervals of fornication to relieve it. In fine, I make a great scruple of it, whether
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 315
mour ; which, however humib'ating, is, in general, successful in a
vulgar or mixed audi^ice, as turning upon subjects adapted to the
meanest capacity* This continued even down to our times; for,
till very lately, it was expected by the mobbish part of the au-
dience, that thcr^r should be indemnified for the patience with
wbidi they had listened to the moral lessons of a tragedy, by the
indecency of the epilogue. In Dryden's time, this coarse raulery
was carried to ^eat excess ; but our author, however culpable in
other compositions, is, generally speaking, more correct than his
eoatempcmuries in^ his prologues and epuogues. In the Oxford
pieoes, particularly, where the decorum of manners, suited to that
mother of learning, required him to abstain from all licentious al«
luskm, Dryden has given some excellent specimens of how little
he needed to rely upon this obvious and vulgar aid, for the amuses
ment of his audience. Upon the whole, it will be difficult to find
pieoes of this occasional nature so interesting and unexception-
able as those spoken at Oxford. They are, as they ought to be,
by far the most laboured and correct which our author gave to
the stage. It may not be improper to add, that the players were
only permitted to visit Oxfbrd during the Public Acts, which
were frequently celebrated on occasions of public rejoicing. They
acted, it would appear, in a Tennis-court, fitted up as an occa-
sional theatre ; and the prologues and epilogues of Dryden tend-
ed doubtless greatly to conciuate the favour of an audience, con^*
sistmg of all tliat was learned in the generation then mature, and
all that was hopeful in that which was rising to succeed it.
The more miscellaneous prologues and epilogues of Dryden are
not without interest. In ridiculing the vices or follies of the age,
they often touch upon circumstances illustrative of manners ;
ana certainly, though the modem theatres of the metropolis are
so ill regulated, as nearly to exclude modest females from all
the house, except the private boxes, their decorum is superior
to that of their predecessors. If we conceive the boxes filled
with women, whose masks levelled all distinction between the
wcmian of fashion and the courtezan ; the galleries crowded with
a rabble, more ferocious and ignorant than its present inmates ;
it be possible for a man to write sound heroics, and make an accomplished tho-
rough-paced wit, unless he comes to refine and cultivate himself at London ; un-
less he knows how many stories high the houses are in Chcapside and Fleet-street ;
is acquainted with aU the gaming ordinaries about town, and the rates of porters
and hackney-coachmen ; has shot the bridge ; seen the tombs at Westminster ;
beard the Woodon-head speak ; can tell you where the iosuring-officc is kept ;
and which of the twelve companies has the honour of pi;eccdencc.*'
The Reatorufor Mr Bayes changing his Religion, p. 10.
316 PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
the pit occupied by drunken bulHes^ wboee munds perpetoaDj
interrupted the performers^ and often ended in bloodsbed^ and
even murder^ upon the spot ; we shall have occasion to omgnh
tulate ourselves upon being at least in the way of refbrmatUNk
These enormities of his time> Dryden has pointed out, and cen-
sured in his strong and nervous satire. It is to be r^retted, that
his painting is often coarse, aud sometimes intentionally licen-
tious ; although, as has been already observed, more seldom so
than that of most of his contemporanet. The historical antiquary
may also glean some observations on the state of parties, from
those pieces which turn upon the politics of the day; and there
occur numerous hints, which may be useful to an historian of
the drama. Thus the Prologues and Epilogues form no improper
supplement to Dryden's Historical Poetry.
It remains to say, that all these prologues and epilognes wer^
according to the f u/stom of that time, printed on single leaves, or
broadsides, as they are called, and sold by the hawkers at the door
of the theatres. Some of these, but very few, have been pre*
served by Mr Luttrell, in the collection belonging to Mr Bindley.
If a set of them existed, I think it probable they would be found
to contain many variations from those editions, whidn the more
mature reflection of the author gave to the world in the Misod-.
lanies. But the loss is the less to be lamented, as, in general, the
original editions which I have seen are not only more inacQirate^
but coarser ai)d more licei)tious, than those which Dryden 6^
nally adopted. In the original prologue of Circe, which is
printed in this edition, for example, the reader will find, that,,
in place of the well-known apology for an author's first pro-
duction, by an appeal to those of Shakespeare, Fletcher, and
Jonson, his youth is only made the subject of some common-
place raillery. Indeed, so little value did Dryden himself set
upon these occasional effusions before they were collected, and
so little did he consider them as entitled to live in the recol-
lection of the public, that, on one occasion at least, but probably
upon several, he actually transferred the same prologue from one
new play to another. Thus he reclaimed, from his adversary
Shadwell's play of ** The True Widow," the prologue which he
had furnished, and affixed it to the " Widow Ranter" of Mrs
Behn. Sometimes also he laid under contribution former publi-
cations of his own, which he supposed to be forgotten, in ord^
to furnish out one of these theatrical prefaces. Thus the satire
against the Dutch furnishes the principal part of the prologue
and epilogue to " Amboyna."
Inaccurate as they seem to have been, the original editions
might have proved useful in arrangingthe prologues and epilogues
according to their exact dates, which, where they are not attach-
PEOLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 317
ed to any particujat play^ can now only be assigned from internal
evidence. But absolute accuracy in this pointy though no doubt
desirable if it can be obtained^ does not appear to be a point of
any serious moment ; and^ after haying b^towed considerable
pains^ the Editor will neither be much ashamed, nor inconsolably
sorry, to find, that some of the prologues and epilogues have been
misplaced in the order which ne has adopted.
I
PROLOGUE
SPOKEN
tfaE FIRST DAY OF THE KINg's HOUSE ACTING
AFTER THE FIRE.
in January y 1671-2, the play-house in Thury'Lanef occupied by
the King's Company , tookjlre, and was entirely destroyed, with
jifty or sixty adjoining houses, which were either involved in the
cofiflagration, or blown up to stop its progress. During the re*
building of this theatre, the King's servants acted in the old house
in Lincoln's" Inn-Fields, ThejoUowing Prologue announces the
distressed situation of the company on their retreat to this tent"
porary asylum. The sixth couplet alludes to the recent desertimi
of the tiincoln'S'Inn theatre, by the rival company, called the
Duke's, who were now acting at one in Dorset Gardens, splen-
didly Jitted up under the direction of Sir William D'Avenant.
^o shipwreck'd passengers escaped to land,
So look they, when on the bare beach they stand,
Dropping and cold, and their first fear scarce o'er,
Expecting famine on a desert shore.
From that hard climate we must wait for bread,
Whence even the natives, forced by hunger, fled.
Our stage does human chance present to view.
But ne'er before was seen so sadly true :
You are changed too, and your pretence to see
Is but a nobler name for charity.
Your own provisions furnish out our feasts.
While you, thefounders, make yourselves the guests.
320 PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
Of all mankind beside, fate had some care.
But for poor Wit no portion did prepare,
'Tis left a rent-charge to the brave and fair.
You cherish'd it, and now its fall you mourn.
Which blind unmanner'd zealots make their scorn,
Who think that fire a judgment on the stage.
Which spared not temples* in its furious rage.
But as our new-built city rises higher, ^ "1
So from old theatres may new aspire, /•
Since fate contrives magnificence by fire. 3
Our great metropolis does far surpass
Whate'er is now, and equals all that was :
Our wit as far does foreign wit excel.
And, like a king, should in a palace dwell.
But we with goklen hopes are vainly fed.
Talk high, and entertain you in a shed :
Your presence here, for which we humbly sue^
Will grace old theatres, and build up new. ' -«
* St Paul's, and other churches^ were consumed in the great
fire, then a recent event.
PROLOGUE
FOB
tee women, when they acted at the old theatrfi,
lincoln's-inn-fields.
Female performers were JirH introduced after the Restoration.
They became speedily acceptable to the court and the public.
The dramatic poets mere in so many mays indebted to them, that
occasional exertions^ dedicated to their benefit ^ as I presume thefoU
lowing to have been, were but a suitable return for various fovours
received. Our author's intimacy with the beautiful Mrs Reeves
particularly called forth his talents in behalf of these damsels,
distressed as they must have been by the unlucky burning of the
theatre in Drury-Lane. The Prologue occurs^in the miscella-'
nies ; bid is, I know not tohy, ondtted by Derrick in his edition
of Dry dens poems,
^ERE none of you, gallants, e'er driven so hard,
As when the poor kind soul was under guard.
And could not do't at home, in some by-street
To take a lodging, and in private meet ?
3uch is our case ; we can't appoint our house.
The lovers' old and wonted rendezvous.
But hither to this trusty noqk remove ;
The worse the lodging is, the more the love.
For much good pastime, many a dear sweet hug.
Is stolen in garrets, on the humble rug.
Here's good accommodation in the pit ;
The grave demurely in the midst may sit,
VOL. X. X
323 PROLOGUES AND EFILOGtJEI.
And so the hot Burgundian* on the side.
Ply vizard mask, and o'er the benches stride.
Here are convenient upper boxes too.
For those that make the most triumphant show
All, that keep coaches, must not sit below.
There, gallants, you betwixt the acts retire.
And, at dull plays, have something to admire.
We, who look up, can your addresses mark.
And see the creatures coupled in the ark :
So we expect the lovers, braves, and wits ;
The gaudy house with scenes f will serve for cits.
* That is^ the consumer of Burgundy^ or drunken bully of the
day.
t Dorset-Garden theatre, where the Duke'n company aded
THrious phewy pieces^ directed by D^Ayenaqt.
PROLOGUE
8P0XSN AT
THE OPENING OF THE NEW HOUSE,
MARCH 26, 1674.
The Drury'Lane theatre, after being burned in 1671-2, was rc-
buiU upon a plan furnished by Sir Christopher Wren^ who SU"
perintended the execution. It is said to have been most admi'
rably planned, but spoiled by some injudicious alterations in the
course of building, TheJbUowing Prologue informs us, that the
exterior decorations were plain and simple in comparison to those
of the rival house in Dorset Gardens, which, as repeatedly no*
ticed, had been splendidly fitted Up under the direction qfiyAve'
nant, noted for his attachment to stage pomp and shew. It
appears that Charles II,, who was possessed of considerable
taste, and did not disdain to interest himself in the affairs of the
drama, had himself recommended to the King's company, the
simplicity and frugality of scenery and ornament to whiph the
poet alludes. TJie other house werfi not unapt to boast of the su*
perior splendour which is here conceded to them. In the epilogue
to " Psyche," the actors boast ^
•Gallants, you can tdl.
No foreign stage can o«m in pomp excel ;
And here none e'er shall treat you half so welL
Poor players have this day such splendour shown,
Whkii yet but by great monarchs has been done.
lyAvenant, by whom the Duk^s company were long directed, was
the first who introduced regular scenery upon a public stage.
His drama of the ^* Siege of Rhodes" seems to nave been the
first exhibited with these decorations.'^See Malone's Account
of the English Stage.
A PLAIN-BUILT house, after so long a stay.
Will send you half unsatisfied away ;
When, faU'n from your expected pomp, you find
A bare convenience only is designed.
324 PROLOGUES AND EFILOGUES.
You, who each day can theatres behold.
Like Nero's palace, shining all with gold.
Our mean ungilded stage will scorn, we fear.
And, for the homely room, disdain the chear.
Yet now cheap dniggets to a mode are grown, "I
And a plain suit, since we can make but one, >
Is better than to be by tarnish'd gawdry known. )
They, who are by your favours wealthy made.
With mighty sums may carry on the trade ;
We, broken bankers, half destroyed by fire.
With Qur small stock to humble roofs retire
Pity our loss, while you their pomp admire.
For fame and honour we no longer strive ;
We yield in both, and only beg — to live ;
Unable to support their vast expence.
Who build and treat with such magnificence.
That, like the ambitious liionarchs of the age.
They give the law to our provincial stage.
Great neighbours enviously promote excess,
While they impose their splendour on the less ;
But only fools, and they of vast estate.
The extremity of modes will imitate.
The dangling knee-fringe, and the bib-cravat.
Yet if some pride with want may be allow'd.
We in our plainness may be justly proud ;
Our Royal Master will'd it should be so ;
Whate'er he's pleased to own, can need no show.
That sacred name gives ornament and grace.
And, like his stamp, makes basest metal pass.
'Twere folly now a stately pile to raise.
To build a playhouse while you throw down plays;
While scenes, machines, and empty operas reign,
And for the pencil you the pen disdain ;
While troops of famish'd Frenchmen hither drive,
And laugh at those upon whose alms they live.
Old English authors vanish, and give place
To these new conquerors of the Norman race.
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES, 326
\, More tamely than your fathers you submit ;
P You're now grown vassals to them in your wit.
f; Mark, when they play, how our fine fops advance
I The mighty merits of their men of France,
Keep time, cry, JSon ! and humour the cadence.
Well, please yourselves ; but sure *tis understood,
That French machines have ne*er done England
good.*
I would not prophecy our house's fate ;
But while vain shows and scenes you over-rate,
*Tis to be feared^ ^
That, as a fire the former house overthrew.
Machines and tempestsf will destroy the new.]
* St Andre, the famous ballet dancer^ composed dances for
k * many operas about this time^ which were probably performed by
fc'; his hght-footed countrymen/at Dorset-Gardens.
C 't ** ^^ 1673, the * Tempest, or the Enchanted Island,' made
into an opera by Mr Shadwell, having all new in it, as scenes,
. machines, &c. : one scene painted with myriads of serial spirits ;
- and others flying away wim a table furnished with fruits, sweet-
. meats, and lul sorts of viands, just when Duke Trinculo and his
' company were going to dinnes. All things were performed so
admurably well^ that not any succeeding opera could get any
money." — Roscius Anglkanus, p. 34. Shadwell had also, about
. this Ume, produced his opera of " Psyche," which, with the
" Tempest" and other pieces depending chiefly upon shew and
scenery, were acting in Dorset-Garden, when this Prologue was
written* In order to ridicule these splendid esiiibitions, the
company at Drury-Lane brought forward parodies on them, such
as the «♦ Mock Tempest," " Psyche Debauched," &c. These
pieces, though written in the meanest style by one Duffet, a low
buffoon, had a transient course of success.
EPILOGUE
ON
THE SAME OCCASION.
Though what our Prologue said was sadly true,"
Yet, gentlemen, our homely house is new,
A charm that seldom fails with wicked you.
A country lip may have the velvet touch ;
Though she's no lady, you may think her such
A strong imagination may do much.
But you, loud sus, who through your curls look big,
Critics in plume and white valiancy wig.
Who, lolling, on our foremost benches sit.
And still charge first, the true forlorn of wit ;
Whose favours, like the sun, warm where you roll.
Yet you, like him, have neither heat nor soul ;
So may your hats your foretops never press,
Untouch'd your riblDons, sacred be your dress ;
So may you slowly to old age advance.
And have the excuse of youth for ignorance ;
So may Fop-corner full of noise remain.
And drive far off the dull, attentive train ;
So may your midnight scourings happy prove.
And morning batteries force your way to love ;
iPROLOGUES ANt) EPlLOOtlES. 327
JSo may not France your warlike hands recal.
But leave you by each other's swords to fall,*
As you come here to ruffle vizard punk,
When sober rail, and roar when you are drunk*
But to the wits we can some merit plead.
And urge what by themselves has oft been said.
Our house relieves the ladies from the frights
Of ill-paved streets, and long dark winter nights ;
The Flanders horses from a cold bleak road.
Where bears in furs dare scarcely look abroad ;f
The audience from worn plays and fustian stuff.
Of rhyme, more nauseous than three boys in bufF4
Though in their house the poets' heads || appear.
We hope we mav presume their wits are here*
The best which they reserved they now will play,"^
For, like kind cuckolds, though we've not the way >•
To please, we'll find you abler men who may» J
If they should fail, for last recruits we breed 1
A troop of frisking monsieurs to succeed ; >
Vou know the French sure cards at time of need. )
4 ■ ■ ' I < I 1^— — ^— i
* This sterns to be an allusion to the recent death of Mr
Scroop^ a tnan of fottune^ who^ about this time, was stabbed in
the theatre at Dorset-Gardens by Sir Thomas Armstrong, after-
wards the confidential friend of the Duke of Monmouth. Lang-
baine 8ays> he witnessed this real tragedy^ which happened du-
ring the representation of " Macbeth/' as altered aiid revised by
D'Avenant in l674u Mr Scroop died immediately after his re-
tnoval into a neighboiuring house*
t Alluding to uie recent establishment in LincolnVlnn-Fields,
then separated from the city by a large vacant space.
X *' The three boys in bufP," were, I believe^ the three Bold
Beauchamps in an old ranting play :
*^ Th« three bold BeiuicfatinpB thall revive again.
And, with the Loudon Prentice, conquer Spain."
§ Some part of the ornaments of D' Avenant's scenes probably
presented the portraits of dramatic writers.
PROLOGUE
TO
THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, 1674^.
SPOKEN BT MR HART.
Hartf tioho had been a captain in the Civil Wars, belonged to Ih
King's company. He xvas an excellent actors and particuktriu
celebrated tn the character of Othello. He left the siage, accord*
ing to Cibber^ on the union of the companies in 1686. But it
appears from a paper published in a note on the article *^ Bettef"
ton" in the Biographia, that he retired fn l681^ upon receiving a
pension Jrom Dr D'Avenant, then manager of the JDuke's com'
pany^ tvho in this manner bought off both Hart and Kynaston,
ana greatly weakened the opposite set.
Poets, your subjects, have their parts assigned.
To unbend, and to divert their sovereign's mind ;
When tired with following nature, vou think fit
To seek repose in the cool shades of wit,
And, from the sweet retreat, with joy survey
What rests, and what is conquer'd, of the way.
Here, free yourselves from envy, care, and strife.
You view the various turns of human life ;
Safe in our scene, through dangerous courts you go.
And, undebauch'd, the vice of cities know.
Your theories are here to practice brought.
As in mechanic operations wrought ;
And man, the little world, before you set.
PHOLOGtJES AND EPILOGUES. 329
As once the sphere of crystal* shew'd the great.
Blest sute are you above all mortal kind.
If to your fortunes you can suit your mind ;
Content to see, and shun, those ills we show,
And crimes on theatres alone to know.
"With joy we bring what our dead authors writ,
And beg from you the value of their wit :
^hat Shakespeare's, Fletcher's, and great Jonson's
claim.
May be renew'd from those who gave the fame.
ISTone of our living poets dare appear ;
For muses so severe are worshipp'd here,
That, conscious of their faults, they shun the eye.
And, as profane, from sacred places fly.
Rather than see the offended God, and die.
We bring no imperfections, but our own ;
Such faults as made are by the makers shown ;
And you have been so kind, that we may boast.
The greatest judges still can pardon most.
Poets must stoop, when they would please our pit,
Debased even to the level of their wit ;
Disdaining that, which yet they know will take.
Hating themselves what their applause must make.
But when to praise from you they would aspire.
Though they, like eagles, mount, your Jove is higher.
So far your knowledge all their power transcends,
As what should be, beyond what is, extends.
♦ Its properties are thus described by Spenser :— -
It vertue hath to show in perfect sight
Whatever thing was in the world containM,
Betwixt the lowest earth and heaven's height.
So that it to the looker appertain'd.
Whatever foe had wrought, or friend designM,
Therein discovered was ne ought mote pass,
Ne ought in secret from the same remainM,
Forthy it round, and hollow-shaped was,
Like to the world itself, and seem'd a world of glass.
Such was the glassy globe that Merlin made,
And gave unto King Ryence for his guard.
Fairy Qucen^ Book iii. Cante 2.
EPILOGUE
SPOKEN
AT OXFORD, BY MBS MARSHALL.
Tke date of this Epilogue i$Jixed hy that qf^Bathurst's tnce-chu*
cellorship, which lasted from Sd October, 167 3^ to Qth Octdbefi
1675.
Oft has our poet wished this happy seat
Might prove his fading Muse's last retreat :
I wonder'd at his wish, but now I find
He sought for quiet, and content of mind ;
Which noiseful towns, and courts, can never know,
And only in the shades, like laurels, grow.
Youth, ere it sees the world, here studies rest.
And age, returning thence, concludes it best.
What wonder if we court that happiness
Yearly to share, which hourly you possess.
Teaching e*en you, while the vext world we show,
Your peace to value more, and better know ?
'Tis all we can return for favours past.
Whose holy memory shall ever last.
For patronage from him whose care presides
O'er every noble art, and every science guides ;*
* Ralph Bathursty thus highly distinguished by our author, was
a distinguished character of the age. He was uncle to Allen, the
PKOLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. SSl
Bathurst, a name the leam'd with reverence know,
And scarcely more to his own Virgil owe ;
Whose age enjoys but what his youth deserved.
To rule those Muses whom before he served.
His learning, and untainted manners too.
We find, Athenians, are derived to you ;
Such ancient hospitality there rests 1
In yours, as dwelt in the first Grecian breasts, >-
"Whose kindness was religion to their guests. J
Sudi modesty did to our sex appear.
As, had tiiere been no laws, we need not
Since each of you was our protector here
i*rf.
fintTfOrd Bathurst. He was born in 1620, and bred to the church,
but abandoned divinity for the pursuit of medicine^ which he prac-^
tised until the Restoration^ when he resumed his clerical charac*
ter. In l663 he became head of Trinity college, Oxford, inj» the
court and chapel of which he introduced the beauties of classi-*
cal architecture, to rival, if it were possible, the magnificence of
the Gothic edifices by which it is surrounded. In 1673, he had
the honour to be appointed vice-chancellor ; an office which he
retained for two years. During his execution of this duty he is
said to have reformed many abuses which had crept into the uni-
versity ; and by liberal benefactions added considerably to the
prosperity of literature. Anthony Wood, who had some private
reason for disliking him, and who, moreover, was as determined
an enemy to the fair sex as ever harboured in a cloister, picked
a quarrel with Bathurst's wife, as he could find no reasonable fault
with the vice-chancellor himself. *' Dr Bathwrst took his place
of vice-chancellor ; a man of good parts, and able to do good
things ; but he has a wife that scorns that he should be in print ;
a scornful woman ! scorns that he was dean of Wells. No need of
marrying such a woman, who is so conceited, that she thinks
herself fit to govern a college, or university."— Perhaps the coun-
tenance given by Bathurst to the theatre, for which Dryden
here expresses his gratitude, might not tend to conciliate the good
will of Anthony, who quarrelled with his sister-in-law by refusing
to treat her to the play. But it agreed well with the character of
Bathurst, who was not only a patron of literature in all its branch-
es, but himself an excellent Latin poet, as his verses prefixed to
Hobbes' " Leviathan/' fully testify ; and as good an English poet
3
9S2 FHOLOGUES AND EPILOGUESj
Converse so chaste, and so strict virtue shown^
As might Apollo with the Muses own.
Till our return we must despair to find
Judges so just, so knowing and so kind.
Bs most of his contemporaries. He died m his eighty-fourth year,
ITO'k Warton has siven us the foUowing character of his Latin
compositions, for wnich Dryden has celebrated him so highly :
" His Latin orations are wonderful specimens of wit and antithe-
sis, which were the delight of his age. They want, upon the
whole, the purity and simplicity of Tully's eloquence, but even
exceed the sententious smartness of Seneca, and the mirprising
turns of Pliny. They are perpetually spirited, and discover an
uncommon quickness of thought. The manner is concise and
abrupt, but yet perspicuous and easy : His allusions are delicate,
and his observations sensible and animated ; his sentiments of con-
gratulation, or indignation, are equally forcible : bis oompliments
are most elegantly turned, and his satire is most ingeniously se*
vere.* These compositions are extremely agreeable to read, but^
in the present improvement of classical taste, not so proper to be
imitated." — Life of Batkursi, prefixed to his Litemry Ilemauu,
published under the inspection of Mr Warton*
ORIGINAL
PROLOGUE TO CIRCE,
BY
DR CHARLES d'^AVENANT, 1675.
Dr Charles UAvenant, iJie author of *• Circe y* was son of the Rare
Sir William lyAvenant, whom he succeeded as manager of th^
Duke* s company* He practised physic in Doctor's Commons, which
he afterwards abandoned for politics. He became a member of
Parliament, and inspector of the exports and imports, qf'vohich of-
fice he died possessed in 1714« He wrote many tracts uponpoUli"
cal subjects, especially those connected with the revenue. *' Circe,"
his only drama, is an opera, to which Bannister composed the mu-
sic. JSesides the Prologue by our author, it was honoured hy^ an
Epilogue by the famous Rochester, and thus graced^ urns received
favourably. It contains some good writing, considering it was
composed dt the age of nineteen ; a circumstance alluded to in the
following Prologue. The original Prologue is from the ^o edi-
tion of " Circe," London, 1677- It was afterwards much im-^
proved, or rather entirely re-written, by our author.
fTERE you but half so wise as you're severe, '
Our youthful poet should not need to fear ;
To his green years your censures you would suit,
Not blast the blossom, but expect the fruit.
The sex, that best does pleasure understand.
Will always chuse to err on t'other hand.
3S4 PROLOOn£S AND EPILOGUES.
They check not him that's awkward in delight,
But dap the young rogue's cheek, and set him right.
Thus hearten'd well, and flesh*d upon his prey.
The youth may prove a man another day.
For your own sakes, instruct him when he's out,
You'll find him mend his work at every bout.
When some young lusty thief is passing by, ^
How many of your tender kind will cry, — V
" A proper fellow ! pity he should die ! 3
He might be saved, and thank us for our pains.
There's such a stock of love within his veins."
These arguments the women may persuade.
But move not you, the brothers of the trade.
Who, scattering your infection through the pit, ^
With aching hearts and empty purses sit, >•
To take your dear five shillings worth of wit. 3
The praise you give him, in your kindest mood.
Comes dribbling from you, just like drops of blood;
And then you clap so civilly, for fear
The loudness might offend your neighbour's ear,
That we suspect your gloves are lined within.
For silence sake, and cotton'd next the skin.
From these usurpers we appeal to you.
The only knowing, only judging few ;
You, who in private have this play allow'd.
Ought to maintain your suffrage to the crowd.
The captive, once submitted to your bands.
You should protect from death by vulgar hands.
PROLOGUE TO CIRCE,
AS COEEECTED BY DRVDEN.
vV^ERE you but half so wise as you*re severe.
Our youthful poet should not need to fear ;
To his green years your censures you would suit,
Not blast the blossom, but expect the fruit.
The sex, that best does pleasure understand,
Will always choose to err on t'other hand.
They check not him that's awkward in delight,
But clap the young rogue's cheek and set him right.
Thus hearten'd well, and flesh'd upon his prey.
The youth may prove a man another day.
Your Ben and Fletcher, in their first young flight,
Did no Volpone, nor no Arbaces write ; *
But hopp'd about, and short excursions made ^
From bough to bough, as if they were afraid, >
And each was guilty of some Slighted Maid, f S
Shakespeare's own muse her Pericles first bore ; |
The Prince of Tyre was elder than the Moor.
* Characters in Jonson's *^ Volpone/' and Fletcher's " King
and no King," which plays are justly held the master-pieces of
these authors.
t The '* Slighted Maid" was a contemporary drama^ written
by Sir Richard Stapylton^ of which Dryden elsewhere takes oc^
casion to speak in terms of contempt. See the Parallel ietmixt
Poetry and Painting,
X This opinion seems to be solely founded on the inferiority
of " Pericles," to the other plays of Shakespeare ; an inferiority
80 greats as to warrant very strong doubts of its being the \egu
timate offspring of his muse at all.
836 PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
'Tis miracle to see a first good play ;
All hawthorns do not bloom on Christmas- day. *
A slender poet must have time to grow.
And spread and burnish as his brothers do.
Who still looks lean, sure with some pox is curst,
But no man can be FalstafF-fat at first.
Then damn not, but indulge his rude essays.
Encourage him, and bloat nim up with praise,
That he may get more bulk before he dies ;
He*s not y^t fed enough for sacrifice.
Perhaps, if now your grace you will not grudge.
He may grow up to write, and you to judge.
* Alluding to the legend of the Glastonbury thorn, supposed
1^ bloom on Christmas-day,
EPILOGUE
INTENDED tO HAVE BEEN SPOKEN BY
THE LADY HEN. MAR. WENTWORTH,
When calisto was acted at court^ in 1675«
s
•* Calisto, or the Chaste Nymph" mas a masque written hy John
Crorvnef who, by the inlerjerence of Rochester ^ was employed to
compose sUch an entertainment to be exhibited at court, though
this was an encroachment on the office of Dry den, the poet laureate
The principal character's were represented by the daughters of the
Duke of York, and thejirst nobUUy* The Lady Mary, afterwards
Queen^ to whom the masque was dedicated, acted Calisto s Nyphe
was represented by the Lady Anne, who also Succeeded io the
throne; Jupiter, by Lady Harriot Wentworth; Psecas, by Lady
Mary Mordaunt; Diana, by Mrs Blague ; and Mercury, by Mrs
Sarah Jennings^ afterwards Duchess of Marlborough. Among
tha attendant nymphs and dancers were the Countess of Pembroke
and of Derby, Lady Catharine Herbert, Mrs Fitzgerald, and
Mrs Fraser. The male dancers were the Duke of Monmouih,
Viscount Dunblaine^ Lord Daincourt^ and others qfthejiirst qua*
lity. Although the exhibition of this masque, which it foas the
privilege of his office to have written, must have been somewhat
galling to Dry den, we see that he so Jar suppressed his feelings
as to compose the following Epilogue, which, to his farther mor*
tification, was rejected, through the interference of Rochester,
The Lady Henrietta Maria Wentworth, Baroness of Nettlested, who
acted the part of Jupiter on the present occasion, afterwards adapt*
ed her conduct to that of Calisto, and became the mistress of the
Duke of Monmouth, lie tioas so passionately attached to her, that
upon the scaffold he vindicated their intercourse by some very warm
and enthusiastic expressions, and could by no means be prevailed
on to express any repentance of it as unlawful. This lady died
about a year ajier the execution of her unfortunate l(yoer, in 1685.
Her mother. Lady Wentworth, ordered a monument qfL,2000
value to be erected over her in the church of Teddington^ Bed*
JordsMre,
jQls Jupiter I made my court in vain ;
ril now assume my native shape again.
VOL. X. Y
388 PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
I'm weary to be so unkindly used,
And would not be a God, to be refused.
State grows uneasy when it hinders love ;
A glorious burden, which the wise remove.
Now, as a nymph, I need not sue, nor try
The force of any lightning but the eye.
Beauty and youth, more than a god command ;
No Jove could e'er the force of these withstand.
'Tis here that sovereign power admits dispute ;
Beauty sometimes is justly absolute.
Our sullen Cato's, whatsoe'er they say,
Even while they frown and dictate laws, obey.
You, mighty sir, our bonds more easy make.
And, gracefully, what all must suffer, take ;
Above those forms the grave affect to wear.
For 'tis not to be wise to be severe.
True wisdom may, some gallantry admit.
And soften business with the charms of wit.
These peaceful triumphs with your cares you bought,
And from the midst of fighting nations brought. *
You only hear it thunder from afar.
And sit, in peace, the arbiter of war.
Peace, the loath'd manna, which hot brains despite,
You knew its worth, and made it early prize ;
And in its happy leisure, sit and see
The promises of more felicity ;
Two glorious nymphs of your own godlike line.
Whose morning rays, like noontide, strike and
shine ; f
Whom you to suppliant monarchs shall dispose,
To bind your friends, and to disarm your foes.
* The war between France and the Confederates was now ra-
ging on the Continent.
f The glorious nymphs, afterwards Queens Anne and Mary,
both lived to exclude their own father and his son from the throne.
Derrick, I suppose, alluded to this circumstance, when in Ae
ne- ' line he read supplant for suppliant monarchs.
}...'
EPILOGUE
TO THE
MAN OF MODE; OR SIR FOPLING FLUTTER.
BY
SIR GEOBGE ETHEBEGE, 1676.
This play, which long mamtained a high degree of reputation on the
stage, presents us with the truest picture of what was esteemed good
Breeding and wit in the reign of Charles II, All the characters,
from Dorimant down to the Shoemaker, were either really drawn
Jrom the life, or depicted so accurately according to the manners of
the timeSf that each was instantly ascribed to some individuaL Sir
Fopling Flutter, in particular, was supposed to represent Sir George
Hewity mentioned in the Essay on Satire, and who seems to have
been one of the most choice coxcombs of the period, A very severe
criticism in the Spectator^ pointing out the coarseness as well as
the immorality of this celebrated performance, had a great effect in
diminishing tts popularity. The satire being in fact personal, it
followed as a matter of course, that the Prologue should disclaim
aU personality, that being an attribute to be discovered by the au-
dience, but not avowed by the poet* Dry den has accomplished this
with much liveliness, and enumerates for our edification the spe»
cial fopperies which went to make up a complete fine gentleman
in 1676 — differing only in form from those required in 1806, ex^
cepting that the ancient beau needed, to complete his character^ a
sRght sprinkling of literary accomplishment, Hiohich the modem
has discarded with the " sacred periwig,"
Most modem wits such monstrous fools have
shown,
They seem not of heaven's making, but their own.
340 PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
Those nauseous Harlequins in farce may pass ;
But there goes more to a substantial ass ;
Something of man must be exposed to view.
That, gallants, they may more resemble you.
Sir Fopling is a fool so nicely writ.
The ladies would mistake him for a wit ;
And, when he sings, talks loud,and cocks, would cry,
I vow, methinks, he's pretty company I
So brisk, so gay, so travell'd, so refined.
As he took pains to graff upon his kind.
True fops help nature's work, and go to school.
To file and finish Gk>d Almighty's fool.
Yet none Sir Fopling him, or him, can call ;
He's knight o* the shire, and represents ye all.
From each he meets he culls whate'er be can ;
Legion's his name, a people in a man.
His bulky folly gathers as it goes.
And, rolling o'er you, like a snow-ball, grows.
His various modes from various fathers follow ;
One taught the toss,and one the new French wallow;
His sword-knot this, his cravatt that design'd ;
And this the yard-long snake he twirls behind.
From one the sacred periwig he gain'd.
Which wind ne'er blew, nor touch of hat profaned.
Another's diving bow he did adore.
Which with a shog casts all the hair before.
Till he, with full decorum, brings it back.
And rises with a water-spaniel snake.
As for his songs, the ladies' dear delight.
These sure he took from most of you who write.
Yet every man is safe from what he fear'd ;
For no one fool is hunted firom the herd.
>*..'
• .'.I'
EPILOGUE
TO
MITHRIDATES, KING OF PONTUS,
BY
ME N. LEE, 1678..
This, as appears from the Prologue preserved in the Luitrell coUee^
tion, was thejirst play acted in the season^ 1698-9. // haSy like
all Lee's productiofis, no small share of bombast, with some stru
ingly beautiful passages.
You've seen a pair of faithful lovers die ;
And much you care ; for most of you will cry
*Twas a just judgment on their constancy.
For, heayen be thank'd, we live in such an age.
When no man dies for love, but on the stage :
And e'en those martyrs are but rare in plays ;
A cursed sign how much true faith diecays.
Love is no more a violent desire ;
*Tis a mere metaphor, a painted fire.
In all our sex, the name examined well,
•Tis pride to gain, and vanity to tell.
In woman, 'tis of subtle interest made ;
Curse on the punk, that made it first a trade !
She first did wit's prerogative remove,
And made a fool presume to prate of love.
342 PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
Let honour and preferment go for gold.
But glorious beauty is not to be sold ;
Or, if it be, 'tis at a rate so high.
That nothing but adoring it should buy.
Yet the rich cullies may their boasting spare ;
They purchase but sophisticated ware.
'Tis prodigality that buys deceit.
Where both the giver and the taker cheat.
Men but refine on the old half-crown way ;
And women fight, like Swissers, fpr their pay»
*■ f
PROLOGUE
TO
THE TRUE WIDOW, 1679.
At diis period Shadwell and our author were on such good
terms, that Dryden obliged him with the following Prologue to
the " True Widow ;" a play intended to display the humours of
various men of the town. Thus we have in the Dramatis Per-i
mmm, —
•'* Selfish. A coxcomb, conceited of his beauty, wit, and breed-i
ing, thinking all women in love with him, always admiring and
talking to himself.
Old Maggot An old, credulous fellow ; a great enemy to wit,
and a lover of business for business-sake.
Young Maggot. His nephew ; an inns-of-court man, who ne-
l^ects law, and runs mad after wit, pretending much to love, and
both in spite of nature, since his face makes him imfit for one,
amd his brains for the other.
Prig. A coxcomb, who never thinks or talks of any thing but
dogs, norses, hunting, hawking, bowls, tennis, and gaming; a
look, a most noisy jockey.
Lump. A methodical coxcomb, as regular as a clock, and goes
as true as a pendulum ; one that knows what he shall do every
day of his life by his almanack, where he sets down all his actions
berore-hand ; a mortal enemy to wit."
So many characters, so minutely described, lead us to suppose,
that some personal satire lay concealed under them ; and, accord-
ingly, the Prologue seems to have been written with a view of
deprecating thie resentment which this idea might have excited in
the audience. We learn, however, by the Prefoce, that the piece
was unfevourably received, " either through the calamity of the
time (during the Popish plot,) which made people not care for di-
Tersions, or through the anger of a great many, who thought them-
selves concerned in the satire." The piece is far from being de-
void of merit ; and the characters, though drawn in Shadwell's
ooarsCi harsh manner, are truly comic That of the jockeyy since
344 PROLOGUES AND EFILOOUES.
so popular^ seems to have been brought upon the ttttge for the
first time in the '' True Widow." It is remarkable, that, though
Dr}'den writes the Prologue, the piece contains a sly hit at him.
Maggoty finding himself married to a portionless jilt, says, " I
must e'en write hard for the play-house ; I may get the rever-
sion of the poet-laure^t's place." This, however^ might be only
meant as a good-humoured pleasantry among friends.
After the deadly quarrel with Shadwell, our author seems to
have resumed his property in the Prologue* as it is prefixed to
^* The Widow Banter, or. The History of Baopn in Virginuh*'
a tragi-cpmedy, by Mrs Behn, acted in 1690*
PROLOGUE
TO
THE TRUE WIDOW.
BY
THOMAS SHADWELL, 1679.
Heaven save ye, gallants, and this hopeful age !
Y'are welcome to the downfal of the stage.
The fools have labour'd long in their vocation,
And vice, the manufacture of the nation.
Overstocks the town so much, and thrives so well.
That fops and knaves grow drugs, and will not sell.
. In vain our wares on theatres are shown.
When each has a plantation of his own.
His cause ne'er fails ; for whatsoe'er he spends.
There's still Good's plenty for himself and friends.
Should men- be rated by poetic rules.
Lord, what a poll would there be raised from fools !
Meantime poor wit prohibited must lie.
As if 'twere made some French commodity.
Fools you will have, and raised at vast expence ;
And yet, as soon as seen, they give offence.
Time was, when none would cry, — That oaf was me ;
But now you strive about your pedigree.
346 rnoLOGUES and epilogues.
Bauble and cap • no sooner are thrown down,
But there's a muss f of more than half the town.
Each one will challenge a child's part at least ;
A sign the family is well encreased.
Of foreign cattle there's no longer need,
"When we're supplied so fast with English breed.
Well ! flourish, countrymen ; drink, swear, and roar;
Let every free-bom subject keep his whore.
And wandering in the wilderness about.
At end of forty years not wear her out.
But when you see these pictures, let none dare
To own beyond a limb, or single share ;
For where the punk is common, he's a sot.
Who needs will father what the parish got.
* The fool's cap and bauble^ with which the ancient jester
was equipped,
t A scramble.
PROLOGUE
TO
CiESAR BORGIA.
BY MR N. LEE, 1680.
This play (^ Nathaniel Lee's was first acted at the Duke's theatre, in
IGiSO. It is founded on the history of the natural son of Pope
Alexander VI. The play fell soon into disrepute ; for Cibber teUs
psj that when Powetwas jealous of his fine dress in Lord Fop»
Jfington, and complained bitterly , that he had not so good a suit
to piay " Ccesar Borgia" this bouncing play could do little more
tk^H pay candles and fiddles. — Apology,'
•
The unhappy man, who once has trail'd a pen,
Jjives not to please himself, but other men ;
js always drudging, wastes his life and blood.
Yet only eats and drinks what you think good.
What praise soe'er the poetry deserve,
Yet every fool can bid the poet starve.
That fumbling letcher to revenge is bent,
-Because he thinks himself, or whore, is meant :
I^ame but a cuckold, all the city swarms ;
From Leadenhall to Ludgate is in arms.
Were there no fear of Antichrist, or France,
In the blest time poor poets live by chance.
348 PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
Either you come not here, or, as you grace
Sonic old acquaintance, drop into your place.
Careless and qualmish with a yawning race.
You sleep o'er wit, — and by my troth you may ;
Most of your talents lie another way.
You love to hear of some prodigious tale.
The bell that toU'd alone, or Irish whale.*
News is your food, and you enough provide.
Both for yourselves, and all the world beside.
One theatre there is, of vast resort,
Which whilome of Requests was calFd the Court ;f
• In Dryden's dajs^ as in our own, there were provided by die
hawkers a plentiful assortment of wonders and prodigies to capti*
vate the people ; with this difference^ that, in tnat earlier penod,
the readers and believers of these wonders were more numennu^
and of higher rank. I cannot point out the particular prodigus
referred to ; but I suppose they were of the same description ai
" The wonderful blazing star ; with the dread^l apparition of
two armies in the air ; the one out of the north, the other out of
the south, seen on the 17th December, 1680, betwixt four and
five o'clock in the evening, at Ottery, ten miles eastward of £z«
on ;" or as *' The strange and dreadful relation of a horrible tem-
pest of thunder and lightning, and of strange apparitions in the
air, accompanied with whirlwinds, gusts of hail and rain, whi^
happened the 10th of June, 1680, at a place near Weatherby,in
the county of York : with the account how the top of a strong
oak, containing one load of wood, was taken off* by a sheet of fire,
wrapped in a whirlwind, and carried through the air, half a mile
distant from the place, &c. As, likewise, another strange relation
of a monstrous child with two heads, four arms, four legs, and
all things thereunto belonging; born at a village, called Ill-
Brewers, in the county of Somerset, on the 19th of May last, with
several other circumstances and curious observations, to the won-
der of all that have beheld it."
t The Court of Requests was a general rendezvous for the news-
mongers, politicians, and busy-bodies of the time. North says,
^' It was observable of Gates, that while he had his liberty, as in
King Charles's time and King William's, especially the latter, he
never failed to give his attendance in the Court of Requests, and in
the lobbies, to solicit hard in all points under deliberation thfit
PEOLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
349
But now the great exchange of news 'tis hight.
And full of hum and buz from noon till night.
TJp stairs and down you run, as for a race,
And each man wears three nations in his face.
So big you look, though claret you retrench.
That, arm'd with bottled ale, you huff the French.
But all your entertainment still is fed
I By villains in your own dull island bred.
fc "Would you return to us, we dare engage
; To shew you better rogues upon the stage.
^. You knew no poison but plain ratsbane here;
Death's more refined, and better bred elsewhere.
They have a civil way in Italy, -s
y By smelling a perfume to make you die ; i
A trick would make you lay your snuff-box by, j
Murder's a trade so known and practised there,
'That *tis infallible as is the chair.
SpBut mark their feast, you shall behold such pranks f
*'-The pope says grace, but 'tis the devil gives thanks.^:
might terminate in the prejudice of the church, crown, or of any
gentleman of the loyal, or church of England party." Swift, in his
^ Journal to Stella, makes frequent mention of the Court of Re-
quests, as a scene of political bustle and intrigue.
J The Popish Plot being now in full force and credit, our au-
Nthor here, as in the " Spanish Friar," Hatters the universal pre*
jadice entertained against the Catholics.
PROLOGUE
TO
SOPHONISBA.
SPOKEN AT OXFOKD, 1680.
Saphonisha was a play ofN. Lee,Jlrst acted ahoutt 16^6. jS & ii
the taste of the Frencn stage, and of the romance* cf Calprmk
and Scuderi. Hannibal and Massinissa are introduced w ih
character qfrvhining love-sick adorers of relentless beauty, tUt
prevailing taste is admirably ridiculed by Boileau, in a diahgK
where a scene is laid in the infernal regions. In the pfdbffX
spoken at Oxford, which was always Jamous for Tory principuit
our author ventures to ridicule the Popish Plot, and to predict ^
consequences of the predominance of fanatical principles to ikt
studies caltivated in the University,
Thespis, the first professor of our art.
At country wakes, sung ballads from a cart.
To prove this true, if Latin be no trespass,
Dicitur et plaustris vexisse poemata Thespis.
But iEschylus, says Horace in some page,
Was the first mountebank that trod the stage :
Yet Athens never knew your learned sport.
Of tossing poets in a tennis-court.*
* Apparently^ a tennis-court was the place where the temp^
rary stage was erected at Oxford.
2
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 351
But 'tis the talent of our English nation.
Still to be plotting some new reformation ;
And few years hence, if anarchy goes on.
Jack Presbyter shall here erect his throne.
Knock out a tub with preaching once a day.
And every prayer be longer than a play.
Then all your heathfn wits shall go to pot,
For disbelieving of a Popish-plot ;
Your poets shall be used like infidels,
And worst, the author of the Oxford Bells ; *
Nor should we 'scape the sentence, to depart.
Even in our first original, a cart ;
No zealous brother there would want a stone,
To maul us cardinals, and pelt Pope Joan.
Religion, learning, wit, would be supprest.
Rags of the whore, and trappings of the beast ;
jSoot, Suarez, Tom of Aquin,f must go down.
As chief supporters of the triple crown ;
And Aristotle's for destruction ripe ;
Some say, he call'd the soul an organ-pipe.
Which, by some little help of derivation.
Shall then be proved a pipe of inspiration.
♦ Probably some pasquinade against the Whigs, then current
in' the university.
f Noted school divines^ whose works (the greater was the pity)
were then in high esteem in the university.
A PROLOGUE.
This Prologue was ohdouslif spoken in \Ql80A,Jrom iisjrequmt
reference to the politics of that period i hut upon what particular
occasion I have not discovered.
If yet there be a few that take delight
In that which reasonable men should write,
To them alone we dedicate this night
The rest may satisfy their curious itch
With city-gazettes, or some factious speech,*
Or whatever libel, for the public good.
Stirs up the shrove-tide crew to fire and blood.
Remove your benches, you apostate pit.
And take, above, ten pennyworth of wit ;
Go back to your dear dancing on the rope.
Or see what's worse, the devil and the pope.f
The plays, that take on our corrupted stage,
Methinks, resemble the distracted age ;
Noise, madness, all unreasonable things.
That strike at sense, as rebels do at kings.
* The city Gazettes were such publications as the petition of
the City, Mayor, and Aldermen^ for the sitting of parfiament on
the 13th January^ 1680, which is printed with the city arms pre-
fixed, by a solemn order of the common council, and an appoint-
ment by the Loid Mayor, that Samuel Roy croft, printer to the
city, do print the same, pursuant to order, and that no other per«
son presume to do so. The ''factious speech" was probably that
of Shaftesbury, which was burned by the hands of the common
hangman.
f The Pope-burning, so often mentioned.
PEOLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 353
The style of forty-one our poets write,
And you are grown to judge like forty-eight.*
Such censures our mistaking audience make.
That 'tis almost grown scandalous to take.
They talk of fevers that infect the brains ;
But nonsense is the new disease that reigns.
Weak stomachs, with a long disease opprest,
Cannot the cordials of strong wit digest ;
Therefore thin nourishment of farce ye choose.
Decoctions of a barley-water muse.
A meal of tragedy would make ye sick.
Unless it were a very tender chick.
/■ Some scenes in sippets would be worth our time ;
- These would go down ; some love that's poadi'd in
^ rhime :
i Jf these should fail
[;. We must lie down, and, after all our cost,
I' Keep holiday, like watermen in frost ;
While you turn players on the world's great stage,
f' And act yourselves the farce of your own age.
* The meaniag is, that the poets rebel against sense and cnti-
cism, like the parliament, in 164«1, against tlie king ; and that the
audience judge as ill as those, who, in 164!8, conjoined Charles
^ to the block. The parallel between the political disputes in 168G,
and 1681, and those which preceded the great Civil War, was
fiishionable among the Tories. A Whig author, who undertakes
" to answer the clamours of the malicious, and to inform tl\e ig-
norant on this subject," complains, ^' It hath been all the cla-
mour o£lBJLeffariy''(mefJfbriV'Ume is now coming to be acted over
again ; we are running in the very same steps, in the same path
I and road, to undo the nation, and to ruin kingly government, as
I our predecessors did in forty ^ and forty^one. We run the same
L courses, we take the same measures ; tatet anguis in herba ; be-
: ware of the Presbyterian serpent, who lurks in the afi^s of
jt ^hly, being the very same complexion, form, and shape, as that
:^ of forty and forty-one/' — The Disloyal Forty and Forty -one, and
the Loyal Eighty^ presented to public view.'* Folio 1680.
VOL. X. Z
EPILOGUE
SPOKEN AT
MITHRIDATES, KING OF PONTUS,
THE FIRST PLAY ACTED AT THE THEATRE BOYAX, 1681.
This Epik^ef which occurs in Lutlrelts coUection with maw/ iiuii>
giniu corrections J seems to have been spoken hy Goodman, who u
mentioned with great respect by Cihher in his " Apology." It ii
now for thejirst time received into Dry dens poems*
Pox on this playhouse ! 'tis an old tired jade,
'Twill do no longer, we must iforce a trade.
What if we all turn witnesses o' th' Plot ; —
That's overstoekt, there's nothing to be got.
Shall we take orders ? — That will parts require,
And colleges give no degrees for hire ;
Would Salamanca were a little nigher !
Will nothing do ? — O, now 'tis found, I hope ;
Have not you seen the dancing of the rope ?
When Andre's* wit was clean run off the score,
And Jacob's capering tricks could do no more,
A damsel does to the ladder's top advance.
And with two heavy buckets drags a dance ;
The yawning crowd perk up to see the sight.
And slaver'd at the mouth for vast delight.
* Alluding to St Andrr, tlie famous dancing master^ and Jacob
Hal), thq performer on the slack rope.
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 355
«
Oh, friend, there's nothing, to enchant the mind,
Nothing like that sweet sex to draw mankind :
The founder'd horse, that switching will not stir.
Trots to the mare afore, without a spur.
Faith, m go scour the scene-room, and engage
Some toy within to save the falling stage. [Exit.
Re-enters with Mrs Cox.
Whohavewehere again? what nymph's i'th' stocks?
Yoijr most obedient slave, sweet Madam Cox.
You'd best be coy, tod blush for a pretence ;
For shame ! say something in your own defence !
Mrs Cox. What shall I say ? I have been hence
so long,
I've e'en almost forgot my mother-tongue ;
If I can act it, I wish I were ten fathom
Beneath
- Goodman. O Lord ! pray, no swearing, madam !
Mrs Cox. If I Wad sworn, yet sure, to serve the
nation,
I could find out some mental reservation.
Well, in plain terms, gallants, without a sham.
Will you be pleased to take me as I am ?
Quite out of countenance, with a downcast look.
Just like a truant that returns to book :
Yet I'm not old ; but, if I were, this place
Ne'er wanted art to piece a ruin'd face.
- When greybeards govem'd, I forsoojc the stage ;
You know 'tis piteous work to act with age.
Though there's no sense among these beardless boys.
There's what we women love, that's mirth and noise.
These young beginners may grow up in time.
And the devil's in't, if I am past my prime.
EPILOGUE
TO A
TRAGEDY CALLED TAMERLANE, 1681.
BY CHARLES BAUNDEBS.
sa0»
ThUflaif was highly applauded at its first representation* La^'
batneijolhming perhaps this epilogue, tdls us, that the gemus of
the author burned as early as that of the incomparable Cowley;
and adds, in evidence of farther sympathy f that Saunders mas,
like him, a kin^s scholar. The play is said to be taken from a
novel called " Tamerlane and Asteruh" and was comphmeidei
with a copy of commendatory verses by Mr Banks. It does not
appear that Saunders wrote any thing else*
X4ADIEJS, the beardless author of this day
Commends to you the fortune of his play.
A woman- wit has often graced the stage.
But he's the first boy-poet of our age.
Early as is the year his fancies blow.
Like young Narcissus peeping through the snow.
Thus Cowley* blossom'd soon, yet flourish'd IcHig ;
This is as forward, and may prove as strong.
* Cowley published in his sixteenth year, a book called " Poeti-
cal Blossoms."
ir
>
PROLOGUES ANfi EPILOGUES. 357
Youth with the fair should always favour find.
Or we are damn'd dissemblers of our kind.
What's all this love they put into our parts ?
'Tis but the pit-a-pat of two young hearts.
Shouldhagandgrey-beardmake such tender moan^^
Faith^ you'd even trust them to themselves alone, v-
And cry, " Let's go, here's nothing to be done." j
Since love's our business, as 'tis your ddight,
The young, who best can practise, best can write.
What though he be not come to his full power ?
He's mending and improving every hour.
You sly she-jockies of the box and pit.
Are pleased to find a hot unbroken wit ;
By management he may in time be made.
But there's no hopes of an old batter'd jade.
Faint and unnerved, he runs into a sweat.
And always fails you at the second heat.
^
PROLOGUE,
TO THE
UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, 1681
This Prolomte appears to have been spoken at Oxford sliartl^ after
the dissotution of tlie famous Parliament held there, Mard^
1680-1. Prom the following couplet, it would seem that the
players had made an unsuccessful attempt to draw houses during
the short sitting of that Parliament :
We look*d what representatives would bring,
But they served us just as they did the King.
At that time a greater stage was opened for the public amusement^
and the mimic theatre could excite little interest,
Dryden seems, though perhaps unconsciously, to have borrowed the
two first lines of this Prologue from Drayton :
The Tuscan poet did advance
The frantic Paladin of France.
The famed Italian muse, whose rhimes advance
Orlando, and the Paladins of France,
Records, that, when our wit and sense is flown,
'Tis lodged within the circle of the moon.
In earthen jars, which one, who thither soar'd,
Set to his nose, snuff 'd up, and was restored.
Whate'er the story be, the moral's true ;
The wit wc lost iji town, wc find in you.
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 359
Our poets their fled parts may draw from hence,
And fill their windy heads with sober sense ;
When London votes* with Southwark's disagree.
Here may they find their long-lost loyalty.
Here busy senates, to the old cause inclined.
May snuff the votes their fellows left behind ;
Your country neighbours, when their grain grows
dear,
May come, and find their last provision here ;
Whereas we cannot much lament our loss,
Who neither carried back, nor brought one cross.
We look'd what representatives would bring.
But they help'd us — -just as they did the king.
Yet we despair not ; for we now lay forth
The Sibyl's books to those who know their worth ;
And though the first wa^ sacrificed before.
These volumes doubly will the price restore.
Our poet bade us hope this grace to find,.
To whom by long prescription you are kind.
He, whose undaunted Muse, with loyal rage.
Has never spared the vices of the age.
Here finding nothing that his spleen can raise.
Is forced to turn his satire into praise.
* The city of London had now declared against petitioning for
parliament.
PEOLOGUE
TO THE
UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD.
This Prologue must have been spoken at Oxford during the rendence
of the Duke of York in Scotland, in 1681-2. The humour iunu
upon a part ofthe company having attended the Duke to Scotland,
where, among other luxuries little known to my countrymen, he m-
troduccd, during his residence at Hobf-Rood House, the amuses
ments of the theatre, I can say little about the actors commemonh
ted in thefoUoming verses, excepting^ that their stage was erected
in the tennis-court of the palace , which was afterwards converted
into some sort of manufactory, andjinally^ burnt down man^
years ago. Besides these deserters, whom Dryden has described
very ludicrously, he mentions a sort of strolling company, compo'
sed, it would seemy of Irishmen^ who had lately acted at Oxford*
DiscoRDj and plots, which have undone our age,
With the same ruin have o'erwhelm'd the stage.
Our house has suffer'd in the common woe.
We have been troubled with Scotch rebels too.
Our brethren are from Thames to Tweed departed, ^
And of our sisters, all the kinder-hearted >
To Edinburgh gone, or coach'd, or carted. j
With bonny bluecap there they act all night
For Scotch half-crown, in English three-pence hight.
PROLOGUES A^H EPILOGUES; 361
One nymph, to whom fat Sir John FalstafTs lean.
There with her single person fills the scene.
Another, with long use and age decayed,
Dived here old woman, and rose there a maid.
Our trusty door-keepers oT former time
There strut and swagger in heroic rhimef.
Tack but a copper-lace to drugget suit.
And there's a hero made without dispute ;
And that, which was a capon's tail before.
Becomes a plume for Indian emperor.
But all his subjects, to express the care
Of imitation, go, like Indians, bare ;
Liaced linen there would be a dangerous thing ;
It might perhaps a new rebellion bring ;
The Scot, who wore it, would be chosen king.
But why should I these renegades describe.
When you yourselves have seen a lewder tribe ?
Teague has been here, and to this learned pit.
With Irish action slander'd English wit ;
You have beheld such barbarous Macs appear.
As merited a second massacre ; *
Such as, like Cain, were branded with disgrace.
And had their country stamp'd upon their face.
When strollers durst presume to pick your purse,
We humbly thought our broken troop not worse.
How ill soe'er our action may deserve^
Oxford's a place where wit can never starve.
Alluding to the Irish massacre.
AN
EPILOGUE,
FOR
THE KING^S HOUSE.
From the date of the various circumstances referred to, this Epi*
logue seems to have been spoken in 1681 -2*
W^E act by fits and starts like drowning men.
But just peep up, and then pop down again.
Let those who call us wicked change their sense,
For never men lived more on Providence.
Not lottery cavaliers * are half so poor.
Nor broken cits, nor a vacation whore ;
Not courts, nor courtiers living on the rents
Of the three last ungiving parliaments ; t
* The lottery cavaliers were the loyal indigent officers, to whom
the right of keeping lotteries was granted by patent in the reign of
Charles II. There are many proclamations in the gazettes of the
time against persons encroaching upon this exclusive privilege.
f The *' three ungiving parliaments'' were, that convoked in
1679, and dissolved on the 10th July in the same year ; that
which was held at Westminster 21st October, 1680, and dissolved
on the 18th January following; and, finally, the Oxford parlia-
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 363
So wretched, that, if Pharaoh could divine, ^
He might have spared his dream of seven lean kine, [-
And changed his vision for the muses nine. J
The comet, that, they say, portends a dearth.
Was but a vapour drawn from playhouse earth ;
Pent there since our last fire, and, Lilly says, *
Foreshows our change of state, and thin third-days.
ment, assembled 21st March^ 1680-1, and dissolved on the 28th
of the same month. All these parliaments refused supplies to
the crown, until they should obtain security, as they termed it,
for the Protestant religion.
* The famous astrologer Lilly is here mentioned ironically. In
his ^' Strange and wonderful prophecy, being a relation of many
universal accidents that will come to pass in the year 1681, ac-
cording to the prognostications of the celestial bodies, as well in
this our English nation, as in parts beyond the seas, with a sober
caution to all, by speedy repentance, to avert the judgments that
are impendent," I find *' an account of the great stream of light,
by some termed a blazing star, which was seen in the south-west
on Saturday and Sunday, the 11th and 12th of this instant De-
cember^ between six and seven in the evening, with several judi*
cial opinions and conjectures on the same." But the comet, oien-
tioned in the text, may be that which is noticed in '' A strange
and wonderful Trinity, or a Triplicity of Stupendous Prodigies,
consisting of a wonderful eclipse, as well as of a wonderful co-
met, and of a wonderful conjunction, now in its second return ;
seeing all these three prodigious wonders do jointly portend won-
derful events, all meeting together in a strange harmonious tri«
angle, and are all the three royal heralds successively sent from
the King of Heaven, to sound succeeding alarms for awakening
a slumbering world. Bevoare the third time" 4to. London, l68^.
This comet is said to have appeared in October l682. Various
interpretations were put upon these heavenly phenomena, by Gad-
bury, Lilly, Kirkby, Whalley, and other Philo-raaths, who were
chiefly guided in tneir predictions by their political attachments^
Some insisted they meant civil war, others foreign conquest;
some that they presaged the downfal of the Turk, others that of
the Pope and French King ; some that they foretold dearth on
the land, and others, the fertility of the king's bed, by the birth
of a son, to the exclusion of the Duke of York.
3G1 rROf.OGTTFS AND EPILOGUES.
'Tis not our want of wit that keq>s us poor ;
For then the printers' press would suffer more.
Their pamphleteers each day their venom spit ;
They thrive by treason, and we starve by wit.
Confess the truth, which of you has not laid
Four farthings out to buy the Hatfield Maid ? *
Or, which is duller yet, and more would spite us,
Democritus his wars with Heraclitus ? f
* This was one of the numerous devices used by the partiisaiiB
of Monmouth to strengthen his interest: ''A relation was publidip
cd, in the name of one Elizabeth Freeman^ afterwards called the
Maid of Hatfield^ setting forth. That, on the 24th of January,
the appearance of a woman all in white, with a white veil over
her face, accosted her with these words : ' Sweetheart, the 15tfa
day of May is appointed for the royal blood to be poisoned* Be
not afraid, for I am sent to tell thee*' That on the 25th, the same
appearance stood before her again, and she having then acquired
courage enough to lay it under the usual adjuration, in the name^
ftc. it assumed a more glorious shape, and said in a harsher tone
of voice : 'Tell King Charles from me, and fcd him not remove
his parliament, and stand to his council :' adding, ' do as I bid
you/ That on the 26th it appeared to her a third time, but said
only, < do your message.' And that on the next nighty when she
saw it for the last time, it said nothing at all.
" Those who depend upon the people for support, must try all
manners of practices upon them ; and such foolcnes as these some-
times operate more forcibly than expedients of a more rational
kind. Care was, besides, taken, to have this relation attested by
Sir Joseph Jordan, a justice of the peace, and the rector of Hat-
field, Dr Lee, who was one of the king's chaplains : Nay, the
message was actually sent to his majesty, and the whole forgery
very officiously circulated all over the kingdom," — Ralph's Re*
vtew of the Reigns of Charles II. and James IL Vol. I. p. 562.
ITie Tories, according to the custom of that time, endeavour*
ed to turn this apparition against those who invented it, and pub-
lished an ironical account of its appearance to Lady Gray, the
supposed mistress of the Duke of Monmouth. — See Ralph, f&'(/*
and this Work, Vol. IX. p. 276.
f *^ Heraclitus Ridens" was a paper published weekly, by L'Es-
trangc, on the part of the court, and answered by one called ^'De-
mocritus" on that of the Whigs.
14
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 365
Such are the authors, who have run us down,
And exercised you critics of the town.
Yet these are pearls to your lampooning rhymes,
Ye abuse yourselves more dully than the times.
Scandal, the glory of the English nation.
Is worn to rags, and scribbled out of fashion ;
Such harmless thrusts, as if, like fencers wise.
They had agreed their play before their prize.
Faith, they may hang their harps upon their willows ;
'Tis just like children when they box with pillows.
Then put an end to civil wars, for shame
Let each knight-errant, who has wrong'd a dame.
Throw down his pen, and give her, as ne can,
The satisfactic«i of a gentleman.'
PROLOGUE
TO HIS
ROYAL HIGHNESS,
UPON HIS
FIRST APPEARANCE AT THE DUKE's THEATRE AFTER HIS
RETURN FROM SCOTLAND-
SPOKEN BY MR SMITH, 21st APRIL, 1682.
The Duke^s return from Scotland, and the shock which it gave to
the schemes of Shaftesbury and the ExclusionistSy has been men"
tioned at lentrth in the Notes to the Second Part of '' Absalom
and Achitoptiely* Vol. ix. p. 402. The passage upon which the
note is given, agrees ivith this Prologue, in represefiting the secret
enemies of the Duke of York as anxiousli/ pressing forwards to
sreet his return :
While those that sought his absence to betray.
Press first, their nauseous false respects to pay ;
Him still the officious hypocrites molest,
And with malidoiis duty break his rest.
Vol. ix. p. 344.
The date of the Prologue^ and the name of the speaker^ are marked
on a copy in Mr Luttrell's collection.
In those cold regions which no summers cheer,
Where brooding darkness covers half the year,
To hollow caves the shivering natives go,
Bears range abroad, and hunt in tracks of snow.
But when the tedious twilight wears away.
And stars grow paler at the approach of day.
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 367
The longing crowds to frozen mountains run,
Happy who first can see the glimmering sun ;
The surly savage offspring disappear,
And curse the bright successor of the year.
Yet, though rough bears in covert seek defence,^
White foxes stay, with seeming innocence ; >
That crafty kind with dayrlight can dispense. }
Still we are thronged so full with Reynard's race,
That loyal subjects scarce can find a place ;
Thus modest truth is cast behind the crowd.
Truth speaks too low, hypocrisy tpo loud.
Let them be first to flatter in success ;
JOuty can stay, but guilt has need to press.
Once, when true zeal the sons of God did call.
To make their solemn show at Heaven's Whitehall,
The fawning Devil appear'd among the rest,
And made as good a courtier as the best.
The friends of Job, who rail'd at him before.
Came cap in hand when he had three times more.
Yet late repentance may, perhaps, be true ;
Kings can forgive, if rebels can but sue :
A tyrant's power in rigour is exprest ;
The father yearns in the true prince's breas.t.
We grant, an o'ergrown Whig no grace can mend.
But most are babes, that know not they offend ;
The crowd, to restless motion still inclined.
Are clouds, that rack according to the wind.
Driven by their chiefs,theystormsof hailstones pour.
Then mourn, and soften to a silent shower.
O welcome to this much-offending land.
The prince that brings forgiveness in his hand !
Thus angels on glad messages appear.
Their first salute commands us not to fear ;
Thus heaven, that could constrain us to obey,
(With reverence if we might presume to say,)
Spems to relax the rights of sovereign sway ;
Permits to man the choice of good and ill.
And makes us happy by our own free-will.
PROLOGUE
TO THE EARL OF ESSEX.
BY MB J. BAXK8, 168S.
SPOKEN TO THE KING AND THE aUEEN AT THEIR COMING
TO THE HOUSE.
W^HEN first the ark was landed on the shore.
And heaven had vow'd to curse the ground no more;
When tops of hills the longing patriarch saw.
And the new scene of earth began to draw ;
The dove was sent to view the waves decrease,
And firjTt brought back to man the pledge of peace.
'Tis needless to apply, when those appear.
Who bring the olive, and who plant it here.
We have before our eyes the royal dove.
Still innocence is harbinger of love.
The ark is open'd to dismiss the train.
And people with a better race the pbin.
Tell me, ye powers, why should vain man pursue, 1
With endless toil, each object that is new, >
And for the seeming substance leave the true ? )
Why should he quit for hopes his certain good.
And loath the manna of his daily food ?
Must England still the scene of changes be.
Tost and tempestuous, like our ambient sea ?
Must still our weather and our wiUs agree ?
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 369
Without our blood our liberties we have ;
Who, that is free, would fight to be a slave ?
Or, what can wars to after-times assure,
Of which our present age is not secure ?
All that our monarch would for us ordain,
Is but to enjoy the blessings of his reign.
Our land's an Eden, and the main's our fence.
While we preserve our state of innocence :
That lost, then beasts their brutal force employ.
And first their lord, and then themselves destroy*
What civil broils have cost, we know too well ;
Oh ! let it be enough that once we fell !
And every heart conspire, and every tongue.
Still to have such a king, and this King long.
VOL. X. a A
PBOLOGUE
TO THE
LOYAL BROTHER, oe, THE PERSIAN PRINCE
The " Loyal Bnrtlier, or. The Peftian Prince,*' yvta the fiitt
phiy of Southerne, afterwards so deaenredly fiunous as atiagic
met It tt said to be borrowed from a Dove^calledf ** Tac^Doa^
^ince of Persia." The character of the Loyal Brother ia obvioas-
ly designed as a compliment to the Duke of York, -whose adhe*
rents and opponents now divided the nation. Southeme was at
tl^ time but three-and-twenty. It is said, that^ upon offerii^
Dryden five guineas for the folloyrinff prologue, wldch had hither-
to been the usual compliment made him for such fiivours, Ae
bard returned the money ; and added, ** not that I do so oat of
disrespect to you, young man, but the players have had my goods
too cheap. In future, I must have ten guineas." Southeme was
the first poet who drew large profit from the author's nights ; in-
somuch, that Jie is Said to have cleared by one play seven hun-
dred pounds ; a circumstance that greatlv surprised Dryden, who
seldom gained by his best pieces more than a seventh part of the
sum. From these circumstances. Pope, in his verses to South*
erne on his birth-day, distinguishes him as
Tom, whom heaven sent down to raise
The price of prologues and of plays.
The prologue, as might be expected, is very severe upon the
whigs ; and alludes to all the popular subjects of dispute between
the factions. The refusal of supplies, and the petition against
the king's guards, are slightly noticed, but the great pope-burn-
ing is particularly dwelt upon ; and probably the reader will be
pleased with an opportunity of comparing the account in the pro-
logue with that given by Roger North, who seems to have enter-
tamed the same fear with Dryden, that the rabble might chuse
to ciy, God save the king, at Whitehall.
'^ But, to return to our tumults. — After it was found that there
was to be a reinforcement at the next anniversary^ which was in
1682, it is not to be thought that the court was asleep, or that the
ki^ armli Aot ^ndearoui* to put & mfp to tlug bfbfal dttti^.
His ttd^esty thbu^t fit to take toe oi*diiiary regular collide < -v^hlch
im, to sekid for t£e lord mayor^ &c. atid to dharge htm to ^rev^nt
riots ift the tity. So the lord mayor and sheri^s attended the
kfaltr in cOnndl ; ahd there they ivere told that dangerous tumults
aMdisordets tvere designed in the city upon the 17th of Noveift-
bttf li**t, at night, on pretence of bonfires ; knd his majesty eti
I^Mted that they, who were entrusted with thfe government of th&
city, for keeping the peace, should, by their authority, prevent
gTl sudl riotous disorders, which, permitted to gb oii, was a miSi*
dlMieanour of their whole body. Then onfe of them came forwardj
ttidf in a whining tone, told the king that they did not appreheud
atiy danger to his majesty, or the city, from thesfe bonfires ; ther^
WAS ah amour of the people against ropery, which they delightedi
to express in that manner, but meant no harm : And. if they
Aoald go about to hinder them, it would be taken &^ if they &a
yooted ropery ; and, considering the great numbers, and uieif
tetl, it might miake them outrageous, which, let alone, would not
hi ; and perhaps they themselves might notf be secure in residt^
ing them, no not in their own houses ; and th^y hoped his Aia-
jjesty would not have them so exposed, so long as they could as^
Aire his minesty that care should be taken, that, if they went
about any ill thing, they should be prevented : Or to this purpos^^ -
As I had it from undoubted authority. This was the godly cart
thhY had of the public peace* and the repose of the dty ; by
which the king saw plainly what they wer6, and What wias to be
expected from them. There wanted not those who sugffested tfad
lending regiments into the dty ; but the king (always tntty ) saidj
he did not love to play with his horse. But his majesty. oraeTra
that a part^ of horse should be drawn np^ and make a strdhj^
gttiurd on the outside of Temple-Bar ; ana all the other guai^
were ordered to be in a posture at a minute's Wamiilg ; and ^
he took a middle, but secure and inoffensive Way i and thaen^
guards did not hreak up till all the rout was over.
" There were not a lew in the court who either ftared or fk-
ironred these doings ; it may be both ; the former being thecAus^
of the latter. This puts me in mind of a passiu;ie! told me by on6
present. It was of the Lopd Archbishop of Xotk^ Dolb«n, wh6
Was a goodly person, and corpulent ; he came to the Lord Chidl
Justice North, and. My lord, said he, (clapping his hand upon
his great self,) what shall we do with these tumults of the people?
They will bear all down before them. My lord, said the Cnief
Justice, fear God, and don't fear the people. A good hitit fit>m a
man of law to an archbishop. But when die day of execution
was ccmie, all the show-fools of the town had made sure of places ;
and, towards the evening, there was a great clutter in the street.
378 PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
#
with taking down fflass- windows^ and faces began to shew thcsD«
selves thereat ; and the hubbub was greaty with the shoals cf
people come there> to take or seek accommodation. And, for the
greater amazement of the people, somebody had got up to tbe
statue of Elizabeth, in the nicii of Temple-Bar, and set her out
like an heathen idol. A bright shield was hung upon her ami,
and a spear put in, or leaned upon, the other hand ; and lamps,
or candles, were put about, on the wall of the nich, to enlighten
her person, that the people might have a full view of the deity,
that, like the goddess Pallas, stood there as the object of the so-
lemn sacrifice about to be made. There seemed to be an inscrip-
tion upon the shield, but I could not get near enou«^h to disoiem
what It was, nor divers other decorations ; but whatever they
were, the eyes of the rout were pointed at them, and lusty shouti
were raised, which was all the adoration could be paid before the
Sand procession came up. I could fix in no nearer post than
e Green-Dragon Tavern, below in Fleet-Street ; but, before I
settled in jmy quarters, I rounded the crowd, to observe, as well
as I could, what was doing, and saw much, but afterwards heard
more of Uie hard battles and skirmishes, that were maintained
fVom windows and balconies of several parties with one and the
other, and with the floor, as the fancy of Whig and Tory incited.
All which were managed with the artillery of squibs^ whereof
thousands of vollies went ofi*, to the great expence of powder and
paper, and profit to the pdbr manufacturer ; for the price of am-
munition rose continually, and the whole trade could not supply
the consumption of an hour or two.
'' When we had posted ourselves at windows, expecting the play
to beffin, it was very dark, but we could perceive the street to fill,
and the hum of the crowd ^rew louder and louder ; and, at length,
with help of some lights below, we could discern, not only up-
wards towards the Bar, where the squib war was maintained, but
downwards towards Fleet-Bridge; the whole street was crowded
with people, which made that which followed seem very strange;
for, about eight at night, we heard a din from below, which came
up the street, continually increasing, till we could perceive a mo-
tion ; and that was a row of stout i'ellows, that came, shouldered
together, cross the street, from wall to wall, on each side. How
the people nnelted away, 1 cannot tell ; but it was plain these fel-
lows made clear board, as if they had swept the street for what
was to come after. They went along like a wave ; and it was
•wonderful to see how the crowd made way : I suppose the good
people were willing to give obedience to lawful authority. Be-
hind this wave (which, as all the rest, had many lights attending)
there was a vacancy, but it filled a-pace, till another like wave
came up ; and so four or ^ve of these waves passed, one after an-
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 373
other; and then we discerned more numerous lights, and throats
were opened with hoarse and tremendous noise ; and^ with tluit,
advanced a pageant, borne along above the heads of the crowd,
and upon it sat an huge Pope, in pontificalibus, in his chair, with
a reasonable attendance for state; but his premier minister, that
shared most of his ear, was, II Signior Diavolo, a nimble little
fellow, in a proper dress, that had a strange dexterity in climbing
and winding about the chair, from one of the Pope's ears to the
other.
'' The next pageant was of a parcel of Jesuits ; and after that
(for there was always a decent space between them) came another,
with some ordinary persons with halters, as I took it, about their
necks ; and one with a stenterophonic tube, sounded— Abhorrers!
Abhorrers ! most infernally ; and, lastly, came one, with a single
person upon it, which, some said, was the pamphleteer Sir Roger
L'Estrange, some the King of France, some the Duke of York ;
but,, certainly, it was a very complaisant civil gentleman, like the
former, that was doing what every body pleased to have him, and,
taking all in good part, went on his way to the fire ; and however
some, to gratify their fancy, might debase his character, yet cer-
tainly he was a person of high quality, because he came in the
place of state, which is last of all. When these were passed, our
coast began to clear, but it thickened upwards, and the noise in-<
creased ; for, as we were afterwards informed, these stately figures
were planted in a demilune about an huge fire, that shined upon
them ; and the balconies of the club were ready to crack with
their factious load, till the good people were satiated with the
tiae show ; and then the hieroglyphic monsters were brought con-
d^ly to a new light of their own making, being, one after an-
6&ex, added to increase the flames : all which was performed
with fitting salvos of the rabble, echoed from the club, which
made a proper music to so pompous a sacrifice. Were it not for
the late attempts to have renewed these barbarities,* it had been
more reasonable to have forgot the past, that such a stain might
not have remained upon the credit of human kind, whom we
would not have thought obnoxious to any such ; but, as it is now
otherwise, all persons, that mean humanely, ought to discourage
them ; and one way is, to expose the fi&ctious brutality of such
unthinking rabble sports, by showing, as near as we can, how
really they were acted ; the very knowledge of which, one would
think, should make them for ever to be abhorred and detested of
all rational beings."— North's Exametu
* Probably alluding to the pope-burning, meditated by the Wlugs duririg the
adtiiinistration of Harlcy. Swift, in his journal to Stdla, mentions the figures
intended for the procesuon having being seized by goveznmeiit.
TWtOOV^
TO THB
LOYAL BROTHER, as, THE PERSIAN PRINCE.
VT MB tOUTKESKV) 1682.
■^1^-^-^— !W^
I^oETs, like lawful ixionarehs^ ruled the stage^
Till critics, like damn'd Whigs^ debauch'd our age.
Mark how they junip ! critics would regulate ^
Our theatres, aiia w higs reform our state ; f
l^th pretend love^ and both (plague rot th^m !) }
hate.
The critic humbly seems advice to bring.
The fawning Whig petitions to the king ;
But one's, advice into a satire slides,
T'oth^r's petition a remonstrance hides;
These wul no taxes give, and those no. pence ;
Critics would starve the poet, Whigs the prince.
The critic all our troops of friends discards ;
Just so the Whig would fain pull down the guardis.
Guards gre illegal that drive foes away,.
As watchful shepherds, that fright beasts of prey.
Kings, who disband such needless aids as these.
Are safe — as long as e'er their sulgects please ;
PROLOGUES AND EPIL0GUS8. 976
And that would be till next Queen Besses night,
Which thus grave penny chroniclers indite.*
Sir Edmcmdbury first, in woful wise,
lieads up the show^ and milks thdr maudlin t^ei.
l^here's not a butcbet's wife biit dribs her port^
And pities the poor pageant from her heart ;
Who, to provoke revenge, rides round the fire.
And, with a civil cong6, does reture:
But guiltless blood to ground must never fall ;
There's Antichrist behmd, to pay for all.
The punk of Babylon in pomp appears,
A lewd old gentleman of seventy years ;
Whose age in vain our mercy would implore.
For few take pity on an old cast whore.
The devil, who brought him to the shame, takes x
part; \
Sits cheek by jowl, in black, to cheer his heart, J
liike thief and parson in a Tyburn-cart. *
The word is given, and with a loud huzza
The mitred poppet firom his chair they draw :
On the slain corpse contending nations fall —
Alas ! what's one poor Pope among them all !
He burns ; now aU true hearts your triumphs ring ;
And next, for fashion, cry, " God save the King !**
A needful cry in midst of such alarms.
When forty thousand men are up in arms ;
But after he's once saved, to make amends.
In each succeeding health they damn his friends :
So God begins, but still the devil ends.
What if some one, inspired with zeal, should call.
Come, let's go cry, " God save him at Whitehall ?"
His best friends would not like this over-care.
Or think him e'er the safer for this prayer.
* See a copy of the penny chronicle alluded to, containing a
minute account of this celebrated procession, ¥f ith a cut illustra*
tive of the description^ Vol. VI. p. 222.
9%6
.PE0L0QUE8 AKD EPILOOOS8.
Fi^e praying saints* are by an act allow'd^ !
But not the whole church-militant in crowd ;
Yet, should heaven all the true petitions drain
.0£ Fresby terians, who would kings maintmU]
0£fixty thousand, five would scarce remain.
* Only five dissenters were allowed to meet togedier by the
penal statutes. ' i .
V:'
• . ■ *
EPILOGUE
TO
THE SAME.
A vmGiN poet was served up to-day,.
Who, till this hour, ne*er cackled for a play.
He's neither yet a Whig nor Tory boy ;
But, like a girl, whom several would enjoy.
Begs leave to make the best of his own natural
toy.
Were I to play my callow author's game,
The King's House i^ould instruct me by the name.*
There's loyalty to one ; T wish no more :
A commonwealth sounds like a common whore.
Xiet husband or gallant be what they will,
Ohe par* of woman is true Tory still.
If any factious spirits should rebel.
Our sex, with ease, can every rising quell.
Then, as you hope we should your fisulings hide.
An honest jury for our play provide.
Whigs at their poets never take offence ;
They save dull culprits, who have miurder'd sense.
Though nonsense is a nauseous heavy mass.
The vehicle called Faction makes it pass ;
Faction in play's the commonwealth-man's bribe ;
The leaden farthing of the canting tribe :
• Where the play was acted*
878 PBOLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
Though void in payment laws and statutes make it,
The neighbourhood, that knows the man, will take
it.»
"Tis faction buys the votes of half the pit ;
Their's is the penaon«paf liamentt of wit.
In city-dubs their venom let them vait ;
For there 'tis safe, in its own element
Here, where their madness can have no pretence,
LfCt them forget themseiveis an hour of sense.
In one poor isle, why should two factions be ?
Small difference in yotrr vicses I can see :
In drink and drabs both sides too well agree.
Would there were more preferments in the bnd !
If places fell, llie party could not stand.
Of this damn'd grievance eveir Whig compiaim.
They grunt like hogs till they have got theix graiHl
Mean time, you aee what tr»de our plots advance;
We send eadi year good money into France ;
And they that know what merchandize we need^
Send o'er true Protestants^ to mend our breed
* Alluding to the tokens issued bjtaaidesmcn in place of cop-
per money^ whichji tbougb not a Itgal tender of payaient, eoati>
nued to be current by the credit of the individual whose nasie
they bore. Tom Brown mentions Alderman Dutioombe's-leaito
halfpence.
i The ParHanoit, vhich sat firoia the Restoratioxi till iSfS,
bore this ignominious epithet among the Whigs.
X Alluding to the emigration of the French Huguenots^ which
the intolerance of Louis XIV. and his ministers began to render
general. Many took refuge in England. See YoL X* p. f^
PBOLOGUE
TO
THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD.
SjPOKEN BY MR HART,
AT THK ACTING OF THE SILKKT WOMAN.
WHATGr««,wh«,l««.fagft.urish'd,onlyk«ew,
Atheniau judges, yoa this day renew.
Here» tQ<v ^^ixe annual rites to Pallas done.
And here poetic prizes lost or won.
Methinls^ I aee you, crowa'd with olives^ sitt
And strike a sacred horror from the pit
A day of doom is thi$ of your decree.
Where even the best are but by mercy free ;
A day, which none but Jonson durst have wish'd
to see.
Here they, i^ho long have known the useful stage»
Come to be taught themselves to teach the age.
As your commissioners our poets go.
To cultivate the virtue which you sow ;
In your Lycasum first themselves refined,
Aud del^ated thence to human kind.
But as ambassadors, when long from home,
Fbr new instructions to their princes come.
So poets, who your precepts have forgot.
Return, and beg they may be better taught :
S8i6 PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
Follies and fiiults elsewhere by them are shown,
But by your manners they correct their own.
The illiterate writer, erap'ric-like, applies
To minds diseased, unsafe chance remedies :
The leam'd in schools, where knowledge first began^
Studies with care the anatomy of man ;
Sees virtue, vice, and passions in their cause.
And fame fi'om science, not from fortune* draws ;
So Poetry, which is in Oxford made ,
An art, in London only is a trade*
There haughty dunces, whose unlearned pen
Could ne'er spell grammar, would be readiqg men.
Such build their poems the Lucretian way ;
So many huddled atoms make a play ;
,And if they hit in order by some chance.
They call that nature, which is ignorance.*
To such a fame let mere town-wits aspire, ^
And their gay nonsense their own cits admire.
Our poet, could he find forgiveness her^.
Would wish it rather than a plaudit there.
He owns no crown fi-om those Prastoriani bands,f
But knows that right is in the Senate's hands.
Not impudent enough to hope your praise, -
Low at the Muses' feet his wreath he lays, '-
And, where he took it up, resigns his bays.
Kings make their poets whom themselves think fit^
But 'tis your suffrage makes authentic wit.
* An allusion to Shadwell ; who boasted^ that he drew his cha-
racters from nature^ in contempt of regular criticism.
t Alluding to the mode in which the emperors were chosen
during the decline of the empire, when the soldiers of the Prse-
torian Guards were the electors, without regard to the legal rights
of the Senate.
EPILOGUE,
SPOKEN BY THE SAME.
No poor Dutch peasant, wing'd with all his fear.
Flies with more haste, when the French arms draw
near.
Than we, with our poetic train, come down.
For refuge hither, from the infected town :
Heaven, for our sins, this summer has thought fit
To visit us with all the plagues of wit.
A French troop first swept all things in its way ;
But those hot Monsieurs were too quick to stity :
Yet, to our cost, in that short.time, we find
They left their itch of novelty behind.
The Italian merry-andrews took their place.
And quite debauch'd the stage with lewd grimdce :
Instead of wit, and humours, your delight
Was there to see two hobby-horses fight ;
Stout Scaramoucha with rush lance rode in.
And ran a tilt at centaur Arlequin.
For love you heard how amorous asses bray'd.
And cats in gutters gave their serenade.
Nature was out of countenance, and each day
Some new-bom monster shewn you for a play.
But when all fail'd, to strike the stage quite dumb.
Those wicked engines, call'd machines, are come.
S88 PR0LOOX7ES AND EPILOGUES.
Thunder and'lightning now for wit are play'd,
And shortly scenes in Lapland will be laid :
Art magic is for poetry profest,*
And cats and dogs, and each obscener beast.
To which Egyptian dotards once did bow.
Upon our English stage are worshipped now.
Witchcraft reigns there, and raises to renown
Macbethf and Simon Magus of the town.
♦ This and the following lines refer to the success of Shadwell's
comedy of '* The Lancashire Witches," in which a ^eat deal of
machinery is introduced ; the witches flying away wim the clown's
candlesy and the priest's bottle of holy wat^^ and converting a
ooantry-fellow into a horse upon the stage. Not content with
tbis^ the author has introduced upon the stage all that writers
upon Dsemonology have rehearsea of the Witched Sabbath, or
Festival, with their infernal master ; and has thus, very dumd-
Iv, mix^ the horrible with the ludicrous. As for the cats and
dogs, we have, in one place, — *' Enter an Imp, in the shape of a
Uack Shock ;" and, in anodier,
" Enter Mother Hargrave, Mother Madge, and two Witches
more ; they mew, and spit, like cats, and fly at tbem^ and scratch
them.
Young Hartford, What's this ? we're set on by cats.
Sir Timothy, They're witches in the shape of cats ; what shall
we do?
Priest, Phaat will I do? cat, cat, cat ! oh, oh ! Conjuro vobis!
fugite, JugitCy Cacodcemones ; cats, cats ! (They scratch all their
faces, till the blood runs about them.)
Tom Shacklehead, Have at ye all I (he cuts at them.) I ha'
mauled some of them, by the mass 1 they are fled, but I am
plaguily scratched. (The Witches shriek, and run away.)"
Besides the offence which Shadwell gave, in point of taste, by
the introduction of these pantomimical absurdities, Dryden was
also displeased by the whole tenor of the play, which was direct-
ed against the High-Churchmen and Tories. — See Dedication of
the Duke of Guise, Vol. VII. p. 15.
f This has no reference to any recent representation of the
tragedy of « Macbeth." Shadwell, from the witchcraft intro-
duced in his play, is ironically termed, " Macbeth aiid Simon
Magus."
PROLOOUES AND EPILOGUES.
S8S
Fletcher's despised, your Jonson's out of fashion.
And wit the only drug in all the nation.
In this low ebb our wares to you are shown,
By you those staple authors' worth is known,
For wit's a manufacture of your own.
When you, who only can, tiieir scenes have praised.
We'll back, and boldly say, their price is raised.
. i
: I >
n
■ - i I
PROLOGUE
TO
THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD.
Though actors cannot much of learning boast,
Of all who want it, we admire it most :
We love the praises of a learned pit,
As we remotely are allied to wit.
We speak our poet's wit, and trade in ore.
Like those who touch upon the golden shore ;
Betwixt our judges can distinction make.
Discern how much, and why our poems take ;
Mark if the fools, or men of sense, rejoice ;
Whether the applause be only sound or voice.
When our fop gallants, or our city follow.
Clap over loud, it makes us melancholy :
We doubt that scene which does their wonder raise,
And, for their igporance, contemn their praise.
Judge, then, if we who act, and they who write.
Should not be proud of giving you delight.
London likes grossly ; but this nicer pit
Examines, fathoms, all the depths of wit ;
The ready finger lays on every blot ;
Knows what should justly please, and what should
not.
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 385
Nature herself lies open to your view ;
You judge, by her, what draught of her is truej
Where outlines false, and colours seem too faint.
Where bunglers daub, and where true poets paint.
But by the sacred genius of this place.
By every muse, by each domestic grace,
Be kind to wit^ wjiiph b^t ^nde^vpurs well.
And, where you judge, presumes not to excel !
Our poets hither for adoption come.
As nations sued to be made free of Rome i
Not in the sufiragating tribes * to stand.
But in your utmost, last, provincial band.
If his ambition may those hopes pursue.
Who, with religi9i3<, loves ypipr j^te ai}4 yp%
0*fi>r4 tQ hm » dewref ^me ^hm te
Than his own mother-univei^sity.
Thebes f did his green, unknp^ingi, youtfe engage ;
He chooses Athens in his riper age.
* Alluding to the Roman citizens, who had the right of votingt
denied to the lower, or provincial orders.
f Our author was educated at Cunbri^e. Wheth^ the soiob of
Cam reli|4ied thi« ayof^od prpff rence of (^fprd, may be doi^^^
i-i
VOL. X. 2 B
: EPILOGUE
TO
CONSTANTINE THE GREAT.
BY MB N. LEE, 1684.
The flay ^ to which this is the prologue, is but asecond-raie perfortU'
ance. It is founded on the stort/ cf Faustina and Crispus, which
the learned will find in Ammianus MarceUinus, and the English
reader in Gibbon. Arius, the heretic^ is the villain of the piece,
which concludes fortunately.
Our hero's happy in the play's conclusion ;
The holy rogue at last has met confusion :
Though Arius all along appeared a saint.
The last act show'd him a True Protestant *
Eusebius, — ^for you know I read Greek authors,—
Reports, that, after all these plots and slaughters,
The court of Constantine was full of glory.
And every Trimmer tum'd addressing Tory.
They follow'd him in herds as they were mad :
When Clause wasking^ then all the world was glad.f
* Alluding to the Whigs^ who called themselves so. See Vol.
IX. p. 211.
f Alluding to the gratulating speech of Orator Higgins to
Clause, when elected King of the Beggars :
Who is he here that did not wish thee chosen.
Now thou art chosen ? Ask them ; all will say so,
Nay, swear*t— *ti8 for the king— but let that pass.
BeggarU Bush, Act II. Scene I.
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES- 387
Whigs kept the places they possest before,
And most were in a way of getting more ;
Which was as much as saying. Gentlemen,
Here's power and money to be rogues again.
Indeed, there were a sort of peaking tools.
Some call them modest, but I call them fools ;
Men much more loyal, though not half so loud.
But these poor devils were cast behind the crowd ;
For bold knaves thrive without one grain of sense.
But good men starve for want of impudence.
Besides all these, there were a sort of wights,
(I think my author calls them Tekelites,)
Such hearty rogues against the king and laws,
They favour'd e'en a foreign rebel's cause.
When their own damn'd design was quash'd and
awed;
At least they gave it their good word abroad.
As many a man, who, for a quiet life,
Breeds out his bastard, not to noise his wife.
Thus, o'er their darling plot these Trimmers cry.
And, though they cannot keep it in their eye,
They bind it 'prentice to Count Tekely.*
* The severity of the Austrian goyernment, in Hungary parti-
cularly^ towards those who dissented from the Roman Catholic
fiuth, occasioned several insurrections. The most memorable was
headed by Count Teckeli, who allied himself with the Sultan^
assumed the crown of Transylvania^ as a vassal of the Porte^ and
joined, with a considerable force^ the large army of Turks which
besieged Vienna, and threatened to annihilate the Austrian em-
pire. A similarity of situation and of interest induced the Whig
party in England to look with a favourable eye upon this Hun-
garian insurgent, as may be fully inferred from the following
pass^e in De Foe's ** Appeal to Honour and Justice :*'
'' 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 Whias 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 bad
S88 PROLOGUES AND EPILOGtTES.
They believe not the last plot ; may I be eurst.
If I believe they e'er believed the first !
No wonder their own plot no plot they think, —
The man that makes it, never smells the stink.
rooted out the name of the Christian religion in above threescore
and ten kingdoms, could by no means agree with ; and, though
tlien but a young man, and a younger author, I opposed it, and
wrote against it, which was taken very unkindly indeed."
The mcoDgruity of the opinion combated by De Foe, with
the high pretences of reh'gion set up by the Whigs, was the con-
stant subject of ridicule to the Tory wits. In a poem, entitled,
*' The Third Part of Advice to the Painter," dated by LuttreU,
28th May, 1684, we find the following passage :
Paint me that mighty powerftil state a shaking.
And their great prophet, Teckely, a quaking ;
Who for rdigion made such bustling work.
That, to reform it, he brought in the Turk.
Next, paint our English muftis of the tub.
Those great promoters of the Teckelites' club*
Draw me them praying for the Turkish cause.
And for the overthrow o{ Christian laws.
Another Tory poet prophecies of the infant son of James II.,
His conquering arm shaU soon subdue
Teckelite Turks and home-bred Jew,
Such as our great forefathers never knew.
Findaric Ode on th€ Queen* t Deliv&y, hy Caleb Calk.
Another ballad, written shortly after the defeat of Monmouth,
is entitled, " A Song upon the Rendezvous on Hounsley-heath,
with a Parallel of the Destruction of our English Turks in the
West, and the Mahometans in Hungary." The expression occurs
also in the Address of the Carlisle Citizens on the Declaration oi
Indulgence, who " thank his majesty for his royal army, which
is really both the honour and safety of the nation, let the Tecke-
lites think and say what they will." An indicant Whig com-
mentator on this effusion of loyalty, says, ''What the good men
of Carlisle mean by Teckelites, we know not any more than they
know themselves. However, the word has a pretty effect at a
thne when the Protestant Hungarians, under Count Teckely,
were well beaten by the Popish standing army in Hungary."—
History &f Addresses^ p. l6l.
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 389
And now it comes into my head, I'll tell
Why these damn'd Trimmers loved the Turks so
well.
The original Trimmer,* though a friend to no man,
Yet in his heart adored a pretty woman ;
He knew that Mahomet laid up for ever
Kind black-eyed rogues for every true believer ;
And, — which was more than mortalman e'er tasted, —
One pleasure that for threescore twelvemonths lasted.
To turn for this, may surely be forgiven ;
Who'd not be circumcised for such a heaven ?
lAJ.
♦ The original Trimmer was probably meant for Lord Shaftes-
bury, once a member of the Cabal, and a favourite minister,
though afterwards in such violent opposition. His lordship's turn
for gallantry was such as dfsthigatshed him even at the court of
Charles. — See Vol. IX. p. 44*6. The party of Trimmers, properly
so called, only comprehended the followers of Halifax ; but our
author seems to incliMe all those who, professing to be friends
of monarchy, were enemies of the Duke of York, and ^ho were
ad odious to the coiirt as the fanatical republicans. Much wH,
and more virulence, was unchained against them. Among Others,
I find in Mr Luttrdli's Collection, a poem, entitled, '< The Cha-
racter of a Trimmer," beginning thus :
Hang out your cloth, and let the trampet sound.
Here's such a beast as Afric never own*d :
A twisted brute, the satyr in the story.
That blows up die Whig heat, and cools the Tory ;
A state hermaphrodite, whose doubtful lust
Salutes all parties with an equal gust.
Like Ireland shocks, be seems two natures join*d ;
Savage before, and all betrimm*d behind ;
And the well tutor*d curs like him will strain.
Corns over for the king, and back again, &c
PROLOGUE
^ TO THS
DISAPPOINTMENT; or, THE MOTHER IN FASHION,
BY MB SOUTHE&ME, 1684.
SPOKEN BY MB BETTSBTON.
This plau U founded en the novel ofihe Impertinent^ Curiosity^ in
Don Quixote, It possesses no extraordinary merit. The satire
of the Prologue f though grossly broad, is very forcibly expressed;
and describes what we may readily allow to have been the career
of many, who set up for persons of wit and honour about town.
How comes it, gentlemen, that, now-a-days.
When all of yon so shrewdly judge of plays.
Our poets tax you still with want of sense ?
All prologues treat you at your own expence.
Sharp citizens a wiser way can go ;
They make you fools, but never call you so.
They in good manners seldom make a slip.
But treat a common whore with — ladyship :
But here each saucy wit at random writes.
And uses ladies as he uses knights.
Our author, young and grateful in his nature.
Vows, that from him no nymph deserves a satire.
Nor will he ever draw — I mean his rhime.
Against the sweet partaker of his crime ;
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 391
Nor is he yet so bold an undertaker,
To call men fools — ^'tis railing at their Maker.
besides, he fears to split upon that shelf;
He's young enough to be a fop himself:
And, if his praise can bring you all a- bed,
He swears such hopeful youth no nation ever bred.
Your nurses, we presume, in such a case.
Your father chose, because he liked the face.
And often they supplied your mother's plac^.
The dry nurse was your mother's ancient maid,
Who knew some former slip she ne'er betray'd.
Betwixt them both, for milk and sugar-candy.
Your sucking bottles were well stored with brandy.
Your father, to initiate your discourse.
Meant to have taught you first to swear and curse,
But was prevented by each careful nurse.
For, leaving dad and mam, as names too common.
They taught you certain parts of man and woman.
I pass your schools ; for there, when first you came.
You would be sure to learn the Latin namej
In colleges, you scom'd the art of thinking.
But leam'd all moods and figures of good drinking ;
Thence come to town, you practise play, to know
The virtues of the high dice, and the low.*
£ach thinks himself a sharper most profound :
lie cheats by pence ; is cheated by the pound.
With these perfections, and what else he gleans.
The spark sets up for love behind our scenes,
Hot in pursuit of princesses and queens.
There, if they know their man, with cunning car-
riage,
Twenty to one but it concludes in marriage.
. * Loaded dice, contrived sotne for high, and others for low
throws.
398 PROLOGUES AND EPILOOUE&
He hires some homely room^ love's fruits to gather.
And, garret high^ rebels against his father :
But, he once dead-*- —
Brings her in triumph, with her portion, down-^
A toilet, dressing-box, and half a-crown *
Some marry first, and then they fall to scowering
Which is refining marriage into whoring.
Odr women batten well on then* good nature }
AH they can rap and rend for the dear creature.
But while abroad so liberal the dclt is^
Poor spouse at home as ragged as a colt is^
Last, some there are, who take dieir first di^ees
Of lewdness in our middle galleries ;
The doughty bullies enter bloody drunks
Iitvade and grubble one another's punk :
Ttey caterwaul, and make a dismal rout^
Call sons of whores^ and strike, but ne'er lug out :
Thus^ while for paltry punk, they roar and stickle,
They make it bawdier than a conventicle.
♦ Our author seennfg to copy himself in this pasisage. *' His
old father, in the country, would have given him but little thanks
for it, to see him bring down a fine-bred woman, with a lute and
a dressing-box, and a handful of money to her portion."— p-TA^
Wild QuUant, Vol. II. p. 66.
PROLOGUE
TO
THE KING AND QUEEN*
I
UPOK THE
UNIOI^ OF THE TWO COMPANIES, IN 1686.
• m t ■
The two rival Companies ^ so long known by the names of the Kings
and the Duke's players, after exhausting every effort, both of
poetry and machinery^ to obtain a superiority over each other^
fvere, at length, by the expense of these exertions, and the incon-^
stancy oftlie puoUc, reduced to the necessity of uniting their for^
cesf %n order to maintain their sround. " Taste and fashion"
says Colley Gibber, " 'with us, have always had mkgs, and fly
from one public spectacle io another so wantonly, that I have^been
informed, by those toho remember it, that a famous puppei'shoWy
in Salisbury-change, then standing where Cecil-street now is*, so
far distressed these txvo celebrated companies, that they ivere re-
duced to petition the king for relief against it. Nor ought we,
perhaps, to think this strange, when, if I mistake not, Terence
himself reproaches the Roman auditors of his time with the like fond"
nessfar the funambuli, the rope-dancers. Not to dwell too long,
thefifbre, upon that part of my history , xjohich I have only collected
ftom oral tradition^ I shall content myself with telling you^ that
Mohun and Hart now growing old, {for above thirty years be*
fore this time^ they had severally borne the king^s commission of
mc^jdt and captain in the Civil Wars,) and the younger actors^ as
Goodman,' Clark, and others^ being impatient to get into their
partSf tind growing intractable, the auiuences too of both houses
then falling off, the patentees of each, by the king's advice, (which,
perMpSt amounted to a eomnutnd,) united their interests, and both
companies into one, eachmve (f Mothers, in the year 1684. This
unibn weis, however, so much in favour of the Duke's company,
that Hart h^t tite stage ^pon itf and Mohun survived not long of*
* lb tbis latft point Colley it» bowetcr, umtsOmau 8«e f. SBB.
10
394b PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
It appear*, that the king and queen hommred with their presence the
Jirst perfonnance under the union they had recommended. Drum
den's prologue abounds with those violent expressions of loyaMy
with which James looed to be greeted j
Since faction ebbs, and rogues grow out of &shioD,
Their penny scribes take care t'inform the nation.
How well men thrive in this or that plantation :*
How Pensylvania's air agrees with Quakers^
And Caroluia's with Associators ;
Both e*en too good for madmen and for traitors.f
Truth is, our land with saints is so run o'er^
And every age produces such a store.
That now there's need of two New Englands more.
What's this, you'll say, to us and our vocation ?
Only thus much, that we have left our station.
And made this theatre our new plantation.
The factious natives never could agree ;
But aiming, as they cali'd it, to be free.
Those play-house Whigs set up for property.^
* The American colonies^ from the time of the first troubles
in the reign of Charles I., continued to be the place of refuge to
all who were discontented with the government of the time, or
experienced oppression under it. The settlers did not fail to ex-
cite their countrymen to emigration, by exaggerated accounts of
the fertility and advantages of their places of refuge, which were
circulated by the hawkers.
f The settlement of Pensylvania^ under the famous Pen^ had
just taken place ; and the design of a Scottish insurrection, at the
time of the Rye-house Plot, was carried on by Baillie of Jervis-
woody under pretence of being agent for some gentlemen of the
south of Scotland^ who proposed to leave their country, and make
a settlement in Carolina.
-^ This seems to allude to the mutiny of the younger actors
against Hart and Mohun, mentioned by Cibber. The performers
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 395 ^
Some say, they no obedience pdd of late ;
But would new fears and jealousies create,
Till topsy-turvy they had tum'd the state.
Plain sense, without the talent of foretelling.
Might guess 'twould end in downright knocks and
quelling ;
For seldom comes there better of rebelling.
When men will, needlessly, their freedom barter'
For lawless power, sometimes they catch a Tartar;—
There's a damn'd word that rhimes to this, call'd
Charter.*
But, since the victory with us remains.
You shall be call'd to twelve in all our gains.
If you'll not think us saucy for our pains.
Old men shall have good old plays to delight them ;
And you, fair ladies and gallants^ that slight them.
We'll treat with good new plays, if our new wits
can write them.
We'll take no blundering verse, no fustian tumor.
No dribbling love, from this or that presumer ;
No dull fat fool shamm'd on the stage for humour: f
were also anxious to emancipate themselves from the thraldom of
the patentees, which the^ did not accomplish till after the Revo-
lution. They were emancipated by King William^ who considered
them, sa^s Gibber, as the only subjects he had not yet relieved
from arbitrary power. Dry den seems to allude to some ineffectual
struggles made for this purpose, which he compares to those of
the Whigs in the latter end of the reign of Charles II.
* Alluding to the forfeiture of the city charter^ by the process
of Quo Warranto,
'*' Our author, who writes in all the exultation of triumphant
Toryism, does not forget to bestow a passing sarcasm upon lus po-
396 pmoLoouES akd epilogues.
For, faith, some (tf them »uch vile stuff have
As none but fools or fairies ever play'd ;
But 'twas, as shopmen say, to force a trade.
litical and personal enemy^ Shadwell. In the observations on
'* Mac-Flecnoe," and elsewhere, we have noticed Shadwell's af«
fectation of treading in the paths of Ben Jonson, by describing
what he calls humours ; a word as great a favourite with the fat
bard as with Corporal Nym. The following passage in the dedi<«
cation of '^ The V irtuoso," may serve to explain what he means
by the phrase : —
'* I have endeavoured in this play, at humour, wit, and satire,
which are the three things (however I may have fallen short in
my attempt) which your grace has often told me are the life of
a comedy. Four of the humours are entirely new : and, without
vanity, 1 may say I never produced a comedy that had not some
natural humour in it, not represented before, nor, I hope, erer
shall. Nor do I count those humours which a great many do;
that is to say, such as consist in using one or two bye-words ; or
in having a fantastic extravagant dress, as many pretended huo
mours have ; nor in the affectation of some French words, which
several plays have shown us. I say nothing of impossible, unna-
tural, farce fools, which some intend for comical : who think it
the easiest thing in the world to write a comedy, and yet will
sooner grow rich upon their ill plays than write a good one : Nor
is downright silly folly a humour, as some take it to be, for it is
a mere natural imperfection ; and they might as well call it a hu«
raour of blindness in a blind man, or lameness in a lame one ; or
as a celebrated French farce has the humour of one who speaks
very fast, and of another who speaks very slow : But natural im-
perfections are not fit subjects for comedy, since they are not to
be laughed at, but pitied. But the artificial folly of those who
are not coxcombs by nature, but, with great art and industry,
make themselves so, is a proper object of comedy ; as I have dis^
coursed at large in the Preface to ^* The Humourists," written five
years since. Those slight circumstantial things mentioned before,
are not enough to make a good comical humour ; which ought to
be such an affectation as misguides men in knowledge, art, or
science ; or that causes defection in manners and morality, or per*
verts their minds in the main actions of their lives : And this kind
of humour, I think, I have not improperly described in the Epi-
logue to ^^ The Humourists."
'^ But your grace understands humour too well not to know diis;
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 397
We've given you tragedies, all sense defying.
And singing men in woful metre dying ;
This 'tis when heavy lubbers will be flying.
All these disasters we will hope to weather ;
We bring you none of our old lumber hither ;
Whig poets and Whig sheriffs* may hang together.
and much more than I cao say of it. AU I have now to do, is,
humbly to dedicate this play to your grace^ which hsis succeeded
beyond my expectation ; and the humours of which have been
approved by men of the best sense and learning. Nor do I hear
of any professed enemies to the play^ butfiome women, and some
men of feminine understandings, who like slight plays only that
represent a little tattle-sort of conversation like their own : but
true humour is not liked nor understood by them ; and therefore
even my attempt towards it is condemned by them : but the same
people, to my great comfort, damn all Mr Jonson's plays, who
was incomparably the best dramatic poet that ever was, or, 1 be«-
lieve, ever will be ; and I had rather be author of one scene in
his best comedies^ than of any play this age has produced."
* This inhuman jest turns on the execution of Henry Cornish,
who, with Slingsby Bethel, was sheriff in 1680, and distinguished
himself in opposition to the court.— ^See Note on <^ Absalom and
Achitophel." Part I. vol. ix. p. 280. He was condemned as ao^
cessary to the Ryehouse plot, and executed accordingly on 23d
October, 1685 ; probably a i^ort time before this prologue waa
spoken, which Bugbt be in January l6S6.
EPILOGUE
ON
THE SAME OCCASION,
6&
New ministers, when first they get in place.
Must have a care to please ; and that's our case :
Some laws for public welfare we design.
If you, the power supreme, will please to join.
There are a sort of prattlers in the pit.
Who either have, or who pretend to wit ;
These noisy sirs so loud their parts rehearse.
That oft the play is silenced by the farce.
Let such be dumb, this penalty to shun.
Each to be thought my lady's eldest son.
But stay ; methinks some vizard mask I see.
Cast out her lure from the mid gallery :
About her all the fluttering sparks are ranged ;
The noise continues, though the scene is changed :
Now growling, sputtering, wauling, such a clutter !
'Tis just like puss defendant in a gutter :
Fine love, no doubt ; but ere two days are o'er ye,
The surgeon will be told a woful story.
liCt vizard-mask her naked face expose.
On pain of being thought to want a nose :
Then for your lacqueys, and your train beside.
By whate'er name or title dignified.
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 399
They roar so loud, you'd think behind the stairs
Tom Dove,* and all the brotherhood of bears :
They've grown a nuisance, beyond all disasters ;
We've none so great but — ^their unpaying masters.
We beg you, sirs, to beg your men, that they
Would please to give you leave to hear the play.
Next, in the play-house, spare your precious lives;
Think, like good Christians,on your bairns and wives;
Think on your souls ; but, by your lugging forth,|
It seems you know how little they are worth.
If none of these will move the warlike mind.
Think on the helpless whore you leave behind.
We beg you, last, our scene-room to forbear.
And leave our goods and chattels to our care.
Alas ! our women are but washy toys.
And wholly taken up in stage employs :
Poor willing tits they are ; but yet, I doubt.
This double duty soon will wear them out.
Then you are watch'd besides with jealous care ;
What if my lady's page should find you there ?
My lady knows t' a tittle what there's in ye ;
No passing your gilt shilling for a guinea.
Thus, gentlemen, we have summ'd up in short
Our grievances, from country, town, and court :
Which humbly we submit to your good pleasure ;
But first vote money, then redress at leisure.^
* A Bear so called^ which was a favourite with the courtly
audience of the Bear Garden.
t See Note, p. 237.
j: This was the course which Charles usually recommended to
Parliament, who generally followed that which was precisely op-
posite*
PEOLOGUE
TO
THE PBINCESS OF CLEVES.
BY MEN* LBE, 1689-
This play is one of the coarsest which ever appeared upon the stage.
The author himself seems to be ashamed of it, and gives, for tb^
profligacy of his hero, the Duke of Nemours, the odd reason of a
former pUy on the subject of the Paris massacre having been pro*
hibitedf at the request, J believe, of the French ambassador. I$ee
Vol. VII. p. 188.
XiADiEs ! (I hope there's none behind to hear)
I long to whisper something in your ear :
A secret, which does much my mind perplex, — »
There's treason in the play against our sex.
A man that's false to love, that vows and cheats,
And kisses every living thing he meets ;
A rogue in mode, — I dare not speak too broad, —
One that — does something to the very bawd-
Out on him, traitor, for a filthy beast !
Nay, and he's like the pack of all the rest :
None of them stick at mark ; they all deceive. ^
Some Jew has changed the text, I half believe ; >
There Adam cozen'd our poor grandame Eve. J
To hide their faults they rap out oaths, and tear ;
Now, though we lie, we're too well-bred to swear.
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 401
So we compound for half the sin we owe.
But men are dipt for soul and body too ;
And, when found out, excuse themselves, pox cant
them.
With Latin stuff, Perjuria ridet Amantum.
I'm not book-learn'd, to know that word in vogue,
But I suspect 'tis Latin for a rogue.
I'm sure, I never heard that screech-owl hoUow'd
In my poor ears, but separation follow'd.
How can such perjured villains e'er be saved?
Achitophel's not half so false to David.*
With vows and soft expressions to allure.
They stand, like foremen of a shop, demure ;
No sooner out of sight, but they are gadding.
And for' the next new face ride out a padding.
Yet, by their favour, when they have been kissing.
We can perceive the ready money missing.
Well ! we may rail ; but 'tis as good e'en wink ;
Something we find, and something they will sink.
But, since they're at renouncing, 'tis our parts
To trump their diamonds, as they trump our hearts.
\ ± -
\ Alluding to Shaflesbury and Charles II. in his own admirable
satire.
VOL. X. 2 C
EPILOGUE
TO
THE SAME.
Al qualm of conscience brings me back again^
To make amends to you bespattered men.
We women love like cats, that hide their joys.
By growling, squalling, and a hideous noise.
I rail'd at wild young sparks ; but, without lying,
Never was man worse thought on for high-flying.
The prodigal of love gives each her part.
And, squandering, shows at least a noble heart.
I've heard of men, who, in some lewd lampoon,
Have hired a friend to make their valour known.
That accusation straight a question brings, —
What is the man that does such naughty things ?
The spaniel lover, like a sneaking fop.
Lies at our feet : — he's scarce worth taking up.
'Tis true, such heroes in a play go far ;
But chamber-practice is not like the bar.
When men such vile, such faint petitions make,
We fear to give, because they fear to take ;
Since modesty's the virtue of our kind.
Pray let it be to our own sex confined.
When men usurp it from the female nation,
'Tis but a work of supererogation.
PROLOGUES A:srD EPILOGUES. 403
We shew'd a princess in the play, 'tis true.
Who gave her Caesar * more than all his due ;
Told her own faults ; but I should much abhor
To choose a husband for my confessor.
You see what fate follow'd the saint-like fool.
For telling tales from out the nuptial school.
Our play a merry comedy had proved.
Had she confess'd so much to him she loved.
True Presbyterian wives the means would try ;
But damn'd confessing is flat Popery.
* The Princess of Cleves, in the play, confesses to her husband
her love for Nemours.
•f-
'■(
PROLOGUE
TO
ARVIRAGUS AND PHILICIA.
BY LODOWICK CARLELL, ESQ.
SPOKEN BY MR HART.
Lodomch CarleUf according to Lani^baine, was an ancient courtier^
being gentleman of the bows to King Charles I, ^ groom of the king
and queen's privy chamber y and servant to the queen-mother many
years. His plays, the same author adds, were well esteemed qf^
and acted chtejly at the private house in Blackfriars. They were
seven in number. ** Arvira^us and Philicia" consisted of two
parts f and wasjirst printed m 8w, 1639. The prologue^ which
was spoken upon the revival of the piece, turns upon the caprice
of the townf in preferring^ to the plays of their ownpoets^ the per*
formances of a troop of French comedians^ who, it seems^ were
then acting both tragedies in their own language.
At ITH sickly actors, and an old house too,
We're match'd with glorious theatres, and new ;
And with our alehouse scenes, and clothes bare worn,
Can neither raise old plays, nor new adorn.
If all these ills could not undo us quite,
A brisk French troop is grown your dear delight ;
Who with broad bloody bills call you each day.
To laugh and break your buttons at their play ;
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 405
Or see some serious piece, which, we presume.
Is fall'n from some incomparable plume ;
** And therefore. Messieurs, if you'll do us grace.
Send lacquies early to preserve your place."
We dare not on your privilege intrench.
Or ask you, why you like them ? — they are French*
Therefore, some go with courtesy exceeding.
Neither to hear nor see, but shew their breeding ;
Each lady striving to outlaugh the rest.
To make it seem they understood the jest.
Their countrymen come in, and nothing pay.
To teach us English where to clap the play.
Civil, egad ! our hospitable land
Bears all the charge fol: them to understand.
Mean time we languish, and neglected lie.
Like wives, while you keep bjetter company ;
And wish for your own sakes, without a satire.
You'd less good breeding, or had more good nature#
PROLOGUE
TO
THE PROPHETESS.
BV
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.
REVIVED
By DRYDEN.
SPOKE)^ BY MB BETTEBTON.
** The prophetess^* of Beaumont and Fletcher^ ever^ in its oripnat
state, required a good deal of machinery ;for it contains stage"
directions for thunder^bolts brandished Jrom on hish^ and for a
chariot dratvn through mid'air, by fltfing-dragons ; but it was ncfm
altered into an opera, rvith the addition of songs and scenical de-
corations , by Bettertonf in 1690. Our author wrote the follow*
ing prologue, to introduce it upon the stage in its altered state.
The music was by Henry Purcell, and is said to have merited ap^
plause. Rich, whose attachment to scenery and decoration is ri^
diculed by Pope, revived this piece, and piqued himself particU'
larly upon a set of dancing chairs^ which he devised for the nonce.
The prologue gave offence to the court, and was prohibited by the
Earl of Dorset, Lord Chamberlain, after the first day's repre^
sentation. It contains, Cibber remarlcs, somejamiliar metaphor
rical sneers at the Revolution itself; and, as the poetry is good,
the offence was less pardonable. King William was at this time
prosecuting his campaigns in Ireland ; and the author not only
ridicules the warfare in which he was engaged^ and the English
volunteers who attended him, but even the government of Queen
Mary in his absence*
\t HAT Nostradame, with all his art, can guess
The fate of our approaching Prophetess ?
A play, which, like a perspective set right.
Presents our vast expences close to sight ;
PROLOGU^ES AND EPILOGUES. 4X)7
But turn the tube, and there we sadly view^
Our distant gains, and those uncertain too ;
A sweeping tax, which on ourselves we raise,
And all, like you, in hopes of better days.
When will our losses warn us to be wise ?
Our wealth decreases, and our charges rise.
Money, the sweet allurer of our hopes.
Ebbs out in oceans, and comes in by drops.
We raise new objects to provoke delight.
But you grow sated ere the second sight.
False men, even so you serve your mistresses ;
They rise three stories in their towering dress ;
And, after all, you love not long enough
To pay the rigging, ere you leave them off.
Never content with what you had before.
But true to change, and Englishmen all o*er.
Now honour calls you hence ; and all your care
Is to provide the horrid pomp of war.
In plume and scarf, jack-boots, and Bilbo blade.
Your silver goes, that should support our trade.
Go, unkind heroes [ leave our stage to mourn,
Till rich from vanquish'd rebels you return ;
And the fat spoils of Teague in triumph draw.
His firkin butter, and his usquebaugh.
Go, conquerors of your male and female foes ;
Men without hearts, and women without hose.
Each bring his love a Bogland captive home ;
Such proper pages will long trains become ;
With copper collars, and with brawny backs.
Quite to put down the fashion of our blacks. *
* It was the fashion, at this time, to have black boys in attend-
ance, decorated with silver collars. See the following advertise-
ment : " A black boy, about fifteen years of age, named John
White, ran away from Colonel Kirke, the 15th instant; he has
a silver collar about his neck^ upon which is the Coloners arms
i^nd cipher." Gazette, March 18f 1685.
408 PROLOGUES AMD EPILOGUES.
Then shall the pious Muses jpay their vows.
And furnish all their laurels for your brows ;
Their tuneful voice shall raise for your delights ;
We want not poets fit to sing your flights.
But you, bright beauties, for whose only sake
Those doughty knights such dangers undertake.
When they with happy gales are gone away.
With your propitious presence grace our play
And with a sigh their empty seats survey ;
Then think, — On that bare bench my servant sat !
I see him ogle still, and hear him chat ;
SelUng &cetious bargains, and projpounding
That witty recreation, call'd dum-founding.*-^
Then- loss with patience we will try to bear.
And would do more, to see you often here ;
That our dead stage, revived by your fair eyes.
Under a female regency may rise.
* Selling bargains, a species of v^it common^ according to Swifl^
among Queen Anne's maids of honour^ consisted in leading some
innocent soul to ask a question^ which was answered by the bar-
gain-seller's naming his, or her, sitting part, by its broadest ap-
Eellation. Dum-founding is explained by a stage direction in
lury-Fair, where '' Sir Humphrey dum-founds the Count with a
rap betwixt the shoulders." The humour seems to have consist-
ed in doing this with such dexterity, that the party dum-found»
ed should be unable to discover to whom he was indebted for the
favour.
PROLOGUE
TO
THE MISTAKES.
This plat/ was brought forward by Joseph Harris, a cwnedian, as
his owriy although it is said to have been chiefly written by another
person. It was acted in 1690.
Enter Mr Bright.
Gentlemen, we must beg your pardon ; here's
no prologue to be had to-day. Our new play is like
to come on, without a frontispiece; as bald as one
of you young beaux without your periwig. I left
our young poet, snivelling and sobbing behind the
scenes, and cursing somebody that has deceived
him.
Enter Mr Bowen.
Hold your prating to the audience ; here's honest
Mr Williams just come in, half mellow, from the
Rose-Tavern.* He swears he is inspired with claret.
* This was quite in character. Gibber says of WiHiams, that
his industry was not equal to his capacity, for he loved his bottle
better than his business. Apology ^ p. 115.
13
410 PKOLOGUES AND EPILOGUES.
and will come on, and that extempore too, either
with a prologue of his own, or something like one.
here he comes to his trial, at all adventures ; for
my part, I wish him a good deliverance.
lExeunt Mr Brigut and Mr Bowen.
Enter Mr Williams.
Save ye, sirs, save y e ! I am in a hopeful way.
1 should speak something, in rhyme, now, for the
play;
But the deuce take me, if I know what to say.
1 11 stick to my friend the author, that I can tell ye,
To the last drop of claret in my belly.
So far I'm sure 'tis rhyme — that needs no granting ;
And, if my verses* feet stumble — you see my own
are wanting.
Our young poet has brought a piece of work.
In which though much of art there does not lurk^
It may hold out three days — and that's as long
as Cork.*
But, for this play — (which till I have done, we shew
not)
Whatmay be its fortune — by the Lord — I know not.
This I dare swear, no malice here is writ ;
'Tis innocent of all things — even of wit.
He's no high-flyer— he makes no sky-rockets.
His squibs are only levell'd at your pockets ;
And if his crackers light among your pelf.
You are blown up ; if not, then he's blown up him-
self.
* The taking of Cork was one of the first exploits of the re-
nowned Marlborough. The besieging army was disembarked on
the 23d September, 1690, and the garrison, amounting to four
thousand men^ surrendered on the 28tb of the same month*
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 411
By this time, I'm something recover'd of my flus-
ter'd madness ;
And now, a word or two in sober sadness.
Ours is a common play ; and you pay down
A common harlot's price — just half-a-crown.
You'll say, I play the pimp, on my friend's score ; ^
But since 'tis for a friend, your gibes give o'er, >
For many a mother has done that before. }
How^s this ? you cry : an actor write? — ^weknow it;
But Shakespeare was an actor, and a poet.
Has not great Jonson's learning often fail'd ?
But Shakespeare's greater genius still prevail'd.
Have not some writing actors, in this age,
Deserved and found success upon the stage ?
To tell the truth, when our old wits are tired.
Not one of us but means to be inspired.
Let your kind presence grace our homely cheer ;
Peace and the butt* is all our business here
So much for that — and the devil take small beer.
* A phrase in the *' Tempest," as altered by Dryden, which
jseems to have become proverbial.
EPILOGUE
TO
HENRY II.
BY JOHN BANCROFT,
AND PUBLISHED BY MR MOUNTFORT, 1693.
SPOKEN BY MRS BBACB6IEDLE.
This play is founded on the amours of Henry II. and the death of
Jair Rosamond, John Bancroft, the author, was a surgeon, ami
wrote another play called ^' Sertorius" He gave both the repu*
tation and the profits of '^ Henry II y to Mountfort, the come^
dian ; and probably made him no great compliment in thejbrmer
particular, though, as the piece was weU received, the latter might
be of some consequence* Mountfort was an actor of great emi^
nence, Cibber says, that he was the most affecting lover within
his memory •
Thus you the sad catastrophe have seen,
Occasion'd by a mistress and a queen.
Queen Eleanor the proud was French, they say ;
But English manufacture got the day.
Jane Clifford was her name, as books aver ;
Fair Rosamond was but her nom de guerre.
Now tell me, gallants, would you lead your life
With such a mistress, or with such a wife ?
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 413
If one must be your choice, which d'ye approve.
The curtain lecture, or the curtain love ?
Would ye be godly with perpetual strife.
Still drudging on with homely Joan, your wife ;
Or take your pleasure in a wicked way.
Like honest whoring Harry in the play ?
I guess your minds ; the mistress would be taken.
And nauseous matrimony sent a packing.
The devil's in you all ; mankind's a rogue ;
You love the bride, but you detest the clog.
After a year, poor spouse is left i'the lurch.
And you, like Haynes,* return to mother-church.
Or, if the nameof Church comes cross your mind,
Chapels-of-ease behind our scenes you find.
The playhouse is a kind of market-place ;
One chaffers for a voice, another for a face ;
Nay, some of you, — I dare not say how many,—
Would buy of me a pen' worth for your penny.
E'en this poor face, which with my fan I hide.
Would make a shift my portion to provide.
With some small perquisites I have beside.
Though for your love, perhaps, I should not care,
I could not hate a man that bids me fair.
What might ensue, 'tis hard for me to tell ; "J
But I was drench'd to-day for loving well, >-
And fear the poison that would make me swell. )
* The facetious Joe Haynes became a Catholic in the latter
part of James the Second's reign. But after the Revolution, he
read his recantation of the errors of Rome in a penitentiarj pro-
logue, which he delivered in a suit of mourning.
PROLOGUE.
53S
Gallants, a bashful poet bids me say.
He's come to lose his maidenhead to-day.
Be not too fierce ; for he's but green of age.
And ne'er, till now, debauch'd upon the stage.
He wants the suffering part of resolution.
And comes with blushes to his execution.
Ere you deflower his Muse, he hopes the pit
Will make some settlement upon his wit.
Promise him well, before the play begin ;
For he would fain be cozen'd into sin.
'Tis not but that he knows you mean to fail ; ^
But, if you leave him after being frail, >-
He'll have, at least, a fair pretence to rail, j
To call you base, and swear you used him ill.
And put you in the new Deserter's bill.
Lord, what a troop of perjured men we see !
Enow to fill another Mercury.
But this the ladies may with patience brook ;
Theirs are not the first colours you forsook.
He would be loth the beauties to offend ;
But, if he should, he's not too old to mend.
He's a young plant, in his fir&t year of bearing ;
But his friend swears, he will be worth the rearinfj.
PROLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 415
His gloss is still upon him ; though 'tis true
He's yet unripe, yet take him for the blue.
You think an apricot half green is best ;
There's sweet and sour, and one side good at least.
Mangos and limes, whose nourishment is little,
Though not for food, are yet preserved for pickle.
So this green writer may pretend, at least.
To whet your stomachs for a better feast.
He makes this difference in the sexes too ;
He sells to men, he gives himself to you.
To both he would contribute some delight ;
A meer poetical hermaphrodite.
Thus he's equipp'd, both to be woo'd, and woo ;
With arms offensive, and defensive too ;
'Tis hard, he thinks, if neither part will do.
}
PROLOGUE
TO
ALBUMAZAR.
The eld plavy to which this prologtie was prefixed upon Us revival,
was originally acted in 1634, three or jour years after the ap»
pearance ofJonson's " Alchemist ;** to which, therefore, it could
not possibly afford any hint, Dryden^ observing the resemblance
between the fiays, took the plagiarism for granted f because the
style of " Albumazar'* is certainly the most antiquated. This
appearance of antiquity is, however, only a consequence of the
vein of pedantry which runs through the whole piece. It was
written oy Tomlcins, a scholar of Trinity College, and act*
ed before King James VL by the gentlemen of that house, 9th
March, 1614. It w, upon the whole, a very excellent play ; yet
the author, whether consulting his own taste, or that qfournri*
tish Solomon, before whom it was to be represented, has contrived
to give it an air of such learned stiffness, that it much more re*
sembles the translation of a play from Terence or Plautus, than
an original English composition. By this pedantic affectation,
the humour of the play is completely smothered; ana although
there are several very excellent comic situations in the action, yet
neither the attempt to revive it in Dry dens time, nor those which
followed in 1748 and 1773, met with any success.
As Dryden had imputed, very rashly, however, and groundlessly,
the ^uilt of plagiarism to Jonson, he made this supposed crime
the introduction to a similar slur on Shadwell, who at that time
seems to have been possessed of the laurel; a circumstance which
ascertains the date of the prologue to be posterior to the Revolu*
tion.
To say this comedy pleased long ago,
Is not enough to make it pass you now.
Yet, gentlemen, your ancestors had wit.
When few men censured, and when fewer writ.
P»OLOGUi;S ANI> EPILOG UES. 41 7
And Jonson, of those few the best, chose this.
As the best model of his^master-piece.
Subtle was got by our Albumazar,
That Alchymist by this Astrologer ;
Here he was fashion'd, and we may suppose,
He liked the fashion well, who wore the clothes.
But Ben made nobly his what he did mould ;
What was another's lead, becomes his gold.
Like an unrighteous conqueror he reigns,
Ycit rules that well, which he unjustly gains.
But this our age such authors does afford,
As make whole plays, and yet scarce write one word;
Who, in this anarchy of wit, rob all,
And what's their plunder, their possession feall ;
Who, like bold padders, scorn by night to prey.
But rob by sun-shine, in the face of day.
Nay, scarce the common ceremony use
Of, " Stand, sir, and deliver up your Muse ;"
But knock the poet down, and, with a grace.
Mount Pegasus before, the owner s face.
Faith, if you have such country Toms abroad,*
'Tis time for all true men to leave that road.
Yet it were modest, could it but be said,
They strip the living, but these rob the dead ;
Dare with the mummies of the Muses play.
And make love to them the Egyptian way ;
Or, as a rhiming author would have said.
Join the dead living to the living dead.
Such men in poetry may claim some part,
They have the license, though they want the art ;
And might, where theft was praised, for laureats
stand,!
Poets, not of the head, but of the hand.
* This seems to have been a cant name for highwaymen. Shad-
well's Christian name was Thomas.
f Shadwell succeeded to our author's post of laureate afler the
VOL. X. 2d
418 FROLOOtms Aifft> iRVitootmn.
They make the bcfnefits of others studying,
Much like the meals of politic Jack-Pudding,
Whose dish to challenge no man has the courage ;
•Tis all his own, when once he has spit i'the porridge.
But, gentlemen, you're all concerned in this ;
You are in fault for what they do amiss ;
« 1 1 >t
Revolution. I am not able to discover, if Sbadwell had given any
very recent cause for this charge of plagiarisoi. In ** The Liber-
tine," « The Miser/' " Bury-fair," and •' The Sullen Lovers," he
has borrowed, or rather translated, from Moliere. *' The Squire
of Alsatia*' contains some imitations of Terence's ** Adelphi/'
*' Psyche" is taken from the French, and '' Timon of Atheos"
from Shakespeare, although Shadwell has the assurance to claim
the merit of having made it into a play. He was also under ob«
ligations to his contemporaries. The " Royal Shepherdess" was
originally written by one Mr ]f ountain of Devonshire. Dryden»
in '< Mac-Flecnoe/' intimates, that Sediey " larded with wit" his
play of ** Epsom Wells ;" and in the dedication to " The True
Widow/' Shadwell himself acknowledges obligations to that gen-
tleman's revision of some of his pieces. Langbaine, who hated
Dryden, and professed an esteem for Shadwell, expresses him-
self thus, on the latter's claim to originality :—
'' But I am willing to say the less of Mr Shadwell, because I
have publicly professed a friendship for him ; and though it be
not of 90 long date as some former mtimacy with others, so nei-
ther is it blemished with some unhandsome dealings I have met
with from persons where I least expected* it. I shall therefore
speak of him with the impartiality that becomes a critic, and
own I like his comedies better than Mr Dryden's, as having more
variety of characters, and those drawn from the life ; I mean men's
converse and manners, and not from other men's ideas* copied out
of their public writings ; though indeed I cannot wholly acquit
our present laureat from borrowing ; his plagiaries being in some
places too bold and open to be disguised, of which I shall take no-
tice, as I go along ; though with this remark, that several of them
are observed to my hand, and in great measure excused by him-
self, in the public acknowledgment he makes in his several pre-
faces, to the persons to whom he was obliged for what he bor-
rowed.'
**
FEOLOGUES AND EPILOGUES. 419
For they their thefts still undiscovered think.
And durst not steal, unless you please to wink.
Perhaps, you may award by your decree.
They should Itefund^ — but that can never be ;
For, should you letters of reprisal seal.
These men write that which no ipan else would
steal.
Sfaadwell in the folloMng lineB, whfoh dccur in the prologue to
the ^'Scowerers," seems to retort oh Dryden the accusation here
brought against him :
You have been kind to many of his plays*
And should not leave hiraE in his latter days.
Though loyal writers ot the last two reigns*
Who thred their pens for Popery and cudns.
Grumble at the reward of all his pains ;
They would, like .some, the benefit enjoy
Of what they vilely labimr'd to destroy.
They cry him down, as for his place unfit*
Since they have all the humour and the wit;
^ey must write better e*er he fears them yet*
*Till they have shewn you more variety
Of natural, unstol^n comedy than he.
By you at least he should protected be.
*TiU then, may he that mark of bounty have^
Which his renown'd and royal nuuter gave*
Who loves a subjedt, and oontebuur a slave i
Whom heaven, in spite of hellish plots* d«ig;a*d
To humble tyaats, and exalt tfaaiudnd*
}
. «
T ■
AN
EPILOGUE.
You saw our wife was chaste, yet throughly tried,
And, without doubt, youVe hugely edified ;
For, likt our hero, whom w^ shew'd to-dfty.
You think no woman true, but in a play.
Love once did make a pretty kind of show ;
Esteem bnd kindness in one bi-east would grow ;
But 'tw^s heaven knows how many years ago.
Now some small chat, and guinea expectation,
Gets all the pretty creatures in the nation.
In comedy your little selves you meet ;
'Tis Covent-Garden drawn in Bridges' street.
Smile on our author then, if he has shown
A jolly nut-brown bastard of your own.
Ah ! happy you, with ease and with delight.
Who act those follies poets toil to write !
The sweating Muse does almost leave the chase ;
She puffs, and hardly keeps your Protean vices pace.
Pinch you but in one vice, away you fly
To some new frisk of contrariety.
You roll like snow-balls, gathering as you run.
And get seven devils, when dispossess'd of one.
PttOLOGUES ANt) EPlLOOUftS. 42 1
Your Venus once was a Platonic qiieeii, »
Nothing of love beside the face was ^een ; -
But every inch of her you now uncase, '
And clap a vizard-mask upon the face ; -
For sins like these the zealous of the land.
With little hair, and little *or no band,-
Declare how circulating pestilences
Watch, every twenty years, to snap offences.
Saturn, e'en now, takes doctoral degrees ;*
He'll do your work this summer without fees.
* Perhaps our author had in view the three oppositions of San
turn and Jupiter in June and December 1 692, and in Api-fl' "idO^
which are thus feelingly desoin^ted Updn by John Sylvester :- *^ It
hath been long observed^ that the most remarkable mutations i)t
a kingdom^ or nation, have chiefly depended on the oonjuilctions
or aspects of those two superior planets, "Saturn and Jupiter; and
by their eflfects past, we perceive that the most wise Creator first
placed them higher than all the other planets, that they should
respect, chiefly, the highest and most durable affairs and concerns
of men on earth.
" And if one opposition of Saturn and Jupiter produceth much,
how then can those three oppositions to come do any less than
cause some remarkable changes and alterations of laws, or religi-
ous grders, in England's chief and most renowned city ? because
Saturn then will be stronger than Jupiter, who also, at his second
opposition, will be near unto the body of Mars, (the planet of
war ;) and having took possession of religious Jupiter, should
contend with him, (with a frowning lofty countenance,) in Lon-
don's ascendant, from whence I fear some religious disturbances,
if not some warlike violence, by insurrections, or otherwise, oc-
casioned by some frowning dissatisfied minds, which will then
happen in some part of Britain^ or take its beginning there to the
purpose in those years.
" Ah poor Jupiter in Gemini ! (London,) I fear thou wilt then
be so much humbled against thy will, that thou wilt think thou
hast a sufficient occasion to bewail thy condition ; and if so, God
will suffer this, that thou mayest humbly endeavour to forsake thy
accustomed sins, and that thou mayest know power is not in thee
to help thyself. But yet I think thou wilt then have no need to
fear that God hath wholly forsaken thee ; for look but a little
12
482 PBOI.OOUES AND EPILOOUES.
Let all the boxes, Phoebus, find thy igvace,
And, ah, preserve the eighteen-penny-place !^
But for the pit oonfounders let them go.
And find aa little mercy as they show !
The actors thus, and thus thy poets pray ;
For every critic saved, thou damn'st a play,
back unto the yiearp 1632 and 1683, where Japiter was threp
times in conjunction with Saturn, in a sign of his own triplidty,
and consider, was not he then stronger than Saturn, and hast not
ihovL been victorious ever since, throughout all those great changes
and alterations ? And when thou hast thus considered, perhaps
thou wilt believe, that that which begins well will end well ; and
indeed perhaps it may so happen ; but be not too proud of this,
A word IS enough to the wise. '-^Asirological observations and Prcr
Jictionifor the year of our Lord 1691> iy Jchn Sifvcster. Lon-
don, 1690, 4to.
f TheGaUery^
EPILOGUE
TO THE
HUSBAND HIS OWN CUCKOLD.
This play was written by John Dryden, Junior, son to oiti^. poei*
See the preface among our author's Prose Works, It was dedi»
ceded to Sir Robert Howard, and acted in 1696.
" * *
liiKE some raw sophister that mounts the pulpit.
So trembles a young poet at a full pit.
Unused to crowds, the parson quakes for fear.
And wonders how the devil he durst come there ;
Wanting three talents needful for the place.
Some beard, some learning, and some little grace.
Nor is the puny poet void of care ;
For authors, such as our new authors are,
Have not much learning, nor much wit to spare
And as for gralce, to tell the truth, there's scarce one.
But has as little as the very parson ;
Both say, they preach and write for your instruction ;
But *tis for a third day, and for induction.
The difference is, that though you like the play,
The poet's gain is ne'er beyond his day ;
But with the parson 'tis another case.
He, without holiness, may rise to grace ;
424
PROLOdU£S AND EPILOGUES.
The poet has one disadvantage more,
That if his play be dull, he's damn'd all o'er.
Not only a damn'd blockhead, but damn'd poor
But dulness well becomes the sable garment ;
I warrant that ne'er spoil'd a priest's preferment ;
Wit's not his business, and as wit now goes.
Sirs, 'tis not so much yours as you suppose.
For you like nothing now but nauseous beaux
You laugh not, gallants, as by proof appears.
At what his beauship says, but what he wears
So 'tis your eyes are tickled, not your ears.
The tailor and the furrier find the stuff.
The wit lies in the dress, and monstrous muff.
The truth on't is, the payment of the pit
Is like for like, clipt money for clipt wit.
You cannot from our absent author* hope.
He should equip the stage with such a fop.
Fools change in England, and n^w fools arise ;
For, though the immortal species never dies.
Yet every year new maggots make new flies.
But where he lives abroad, he scarce can find
One fool, for millions that he left behind.
* Young Drydcn was then in Rome with his brother Charlei,
who was gentleraan-usher to the Pope.
« . 1
III'
( ■ '1
t .
MAC-FLECNOE,
A SATIRE
AOAINST
THOMAS SHADWELL.
MAaFLECNOE.
The enmity between Dryden and Shadwell at first probablv
only sprung from some of those temporary caus.es of disgust whicli
inost frequently divide persons whose lives are spent in compe-
tition for public applause. That they were occasionally upon to-
lerable terms is certain^ for Dryden has told us so ; and Shad-
well, in 1676 1 when expressing bis dissent from one of our au-
thor's rules of theatrical criticism, industriously and anxiously
qualifies his opinion, with the highest compliments to our author's
genius.* They had formerly even joined forces, and called in the
aid of another wit, to overwhelm the reputation of no less a per-
son than Elkannah Settle.f But, between the politics of the stage
and of the nation, the friendship of these bards, which probably
never had a very solid foundation, wasat length totally overthrown.
It is not very easy to discover who struck the first blow ; but it
may be suspected, that Dryden was displeased to see Shadwell
not pnly dispute his canons of criticism in print, but seem to esta?
blish himself as an imitator of the old school of dramatic compo-
sition, and particularly of Jonson^ on whom Dryden ha^ thrown
some censure in his epilogue to ** The Conquest of Grenada," anci
in the Defence of these verses. It seems certain, that the feud
had broke out in 1675-6 ; for Shadwell has not only made some
invidious allusions to the success of '* Aureng-Zebci" which was
represented that ^easoQ, but has plainly intimated, that he needed
only a pension to enable him to write as well as Dryden himself, j:
* See the whole passage, VoL VII. p. 141, note.
•f See the Remarks on the Empress bf Morbcco, written in oonjanction by Dry-
den, Crown, and Shadwell. They were printed in 1674.
4: These circumstances of offence occi^r in the prologue, epilogue, and preface
to the ** Virtuoso,*' which must have been acted in the same season with ** Aureng
Zebe,'* as the dedication is dated 26th June, 1676. The prologue commences
with an irreverent allusion to that pUy, and to our ai^thofs theatrical engage^
ments:
You ciime with such «^i eager appetite
To a late play, which gave so great delight.
428 - MAC-FLECNOE.
This assaulty however, seems to have been forgiven ; for Dryden
obh'f;ed Shadwell with an epilogue to the ^< True Widow/' acted
in 1678. But their precarious reconcilement did not long sub-
sist, when political animosity was added to literary rivahry. Shad-
well not only wrote the ** Lancashire Witches," in ridicule of
the Tory party, but entered into a personal contest with our au«
thor on the subject of *' The Medal," which he answered by a
clumsy, though venomons, retort, called *^ The Medal of John
Bayes." In the preface he asserts, that no one can think Dry-
den ** hardly dealt with, since he knows, and so do all his old ac-
Suaintance, that there is not one untrue word spoke of him."
[either was this a single offence ; for Dryden, in his " Vindi-
cation of the Duke of Guise," says, that Shadwell has repeat-
Oar poet fears, that by so rich a treat
Your palates are become too defi<;ate.
Yet since you've had rhime for a reiUsbing bit.
To give a better taste to comic wit ;
But this required expence of time aud pains.
Too great, alas ! for poets* slender gains.
For wit, lilce china, should long buried^Iie,
Before it npens to good comedy ;
A thing we ne*er have seen since JonsMi^fl days,
■ And but A few of bis were perfect plays.
Now drudges of the stage must oft appear,
They must be bound to scribble twice a year.
Tliat these iLsinuations might not be mistaken, Shadwell, in the epilogue, se-
verely attacks rhyming tragedies in general; the object of which diatribe,
considering the late success of ** Aureng«Zebe,*' could not possibly be misinter*
pteted:
But of those ladies he despairs to-day,
Who love a dull romantic whining play ;
"Where poor frail woman's made a deity
With senseless amorous idolatry,
And snivelling heroes sigh, and pine, and cry.
Though singly they beat armies, and huff kings,
Kant at the gods, and do impossible things;
Though they can laugli at danger, blood, and wounds.
Yet if the dame once chides, the milk-sop hero swoons.
These doughty things nor manners have nor wit ;
We ne'er saw hero fit to drink with yet.
The passage in the Dedication, in whicli he insinuates that the provision of a pen-
sion was all he wanted, to place him on a level with the proudest of his rivals, is
as follows : ** That there are a great many faults in the conduct of this play, I
am not ignorant ; but I (having no pension but from the theatre, which is either
unwilling, or unable, to reward a man sufficiently for so much pains as correct
comedies require) cannot allot my whole time to the writing of plays, but am
ibrced to mind some other business of advantage. Had I as much money, and
as much time for it, 1 might perhaps write as correct a comedy as any of my con-
temporaries."
}
MAC-FLECNOE. 429
edly called him Atheist in print. These reiterated insuks at
length drew down the vengeance of our poet, who seems to
have singled Shadwell from the herd of those who had libelled
him, to be gibbeted in rhyme while the English language shall
last. Neither was Dryden satisfied with a single attack upon this
obnoxious bard ; but, having divided his poetical character from
that which he held as a political writer^ he discussed the first in
the satire which follows^ and the last, with equal severity, in the
Second Part of ^' Absalom and Achitophel." These two admi-
rable pieces of satire appeared within less than a month of each
other; and leave it a matter of doubt, whether the bitter ridicule
of the anointed Prince of Dulnessy or the sarcastic description of
Og» the seditious poetaster, be most cruelly sevepe.
*^ Mac-Flecnoe" must be allowed to be one of the keenest sa*
tires in the English language. It is what Dryden has elsewhere
termed a Varronian satire 9* that is, as he seems to use the phrase,
one in which the author is not contented with general sarcasm
upon the object of attack, but where he has woven his piece in-
to a sort of imaginary story, or scene, in which he introduces
tlie person, whom he ridicules, as a principal actor. The posi-
tion in which Dryden has placed Shadwell is the most mortifying
tQ literary vanity which can possibly be imagined, and is hardly
exc^led by the device of Pope in the '^ Dunciad," who has ob-
viously followed the steps of his predecessor. Flecpoe, who seems
to have been universally acknowledged as the very lowest of all
poetasters, and whose name had passed into a proverb for doggrel
verse and stupid prose^ is represented as devolving upon Shadwell
that pre-eminence over the realms of Dulness, which he had him*
self possessed without a rival. The spot chosen for this devolu-
tion of empire is the Barbican, an obscure suburb, in which it
would seem that there were temporary theatrical representations
of the lowest order, among other receptacles of vulgar dissipa-
tion, for the amusement of the very lowest of the vulgar. Here
the ceremony of Shadwell's coronation is supposed to be perform-
ed, witli an inaugural oration by Flecnoe, his predecessor, in which
all his pretensions to wit and to literary fame are sarcastically
enumerated and confuted, by a counter-statement of his claims
to distinction by pre-eminent and unrivalled stupidity. In this sa-
tire, the shafts of the poet ^re directed with an aim acutely ma-
lignant. The inference drawn concerning Shadwell's talents is ge-
neral and absolute ; but in the proof, Dryden appeals with triumph
to those parts only of his literary character which are obviously
vulnerable. He reckons up among his titles to the throne of
* See Essay on Satire, Vol XIII. p. G5.
430 MAC-FLECXOE.
Flecnoe^ his despeHite and unsiiccessful attempti at lyrical com-
position^ in the opera of '* Psyche ;" the clurarsy and coatee lim-
ning of those whom he designed to figure as fine gentlemen' in his
comedies ; the fa\i€ and florid ta6te of his dedications ; his pre-
8um|>tuous imitation of Jonson in tofmposition, and his absurd re-
semblance to him in person. But the satirist itidustriously keeps
out of view those points, in which perhaps he internally felt some
inferiority to the object of his wrath He mentions nothing that
Could recal to the reader's recollection that insight into human
life; that acquaintance with the foibles and absurdities displayed
in individual pursuits^ that bold though coarse delineation of cha-
facter^ which gave fame to ShadwelT's comedies in the last cen-
tury> and renders them amusing even at the present day. This
discrimination is an excellent proof of the exquisite address with
which Drvden wielded the satirical weapon^ and managed the
feelings of his I'eaders. We never find hmi attempting a despe-i
tate or impossible tadc ; at least in a way which seems^ in the mo-t
ment of perusal> desperate or hnpossible. He never wastes his
powder against the impregnable part of a fortresSf but directs all
his battery against some weaker spot^ where a breach may be reo«
dered practicable. In short, by convincing his reader that he is
right in the examples which he quotes, he puts the question at
issue upon the ground most disaavantageous for his antagonisti
and renders it very difiicult for one who has been proved a dunce
in one instance to establish his credit in any other.
1 have had so frequently to call the attention of my reader ta
the sonorous and emphatic effect of Dryden's versification, that it
is almost ridiculous to repeat epithets which apply to every poem
which succeeded his Annies Mirahilis ; yet I cannot but remark,
that the mock heroic may be said to have owed its rise to our au-
thor, and that there is hardly any poem, before *^Mac-Flecnoe,"
in which it has been employed with all its qualities of grave and
pompous irony, expressed in solemn and sounding verse.
It is no inconsiderable part of the merit of «' Mac-Flecnoe/*
that it led the way to the " Dunciad ;" yet while we acknowledge
the more copious and variegated flow of Pope's satire, we must
not forget, that, independent of the merit of originality, always
inestimable^ Dryden's poem claims that of a close and more com-
pact fable, of a single and undisturbed aim. Pope's ridicule and
sarcasm is scattered so wide, and among such a number of au-
thors» that it resembles small shot discharged at random among a
crowd ; while that of Dryden, like a single well-directed bulleti
prostrates the individual object against whom it was directed.
Besides, the reader is apt to sympathize with the degree of the sa-
tirist's provocation, which, in Dryden's case, cannot be disputed;
whereas Pope sometimes confounds thosci from whom he had re-
MAG-FLSCKOE. 481
ceived gross incmlityi with others who had giren him no offence^
uttA with some whose characters were above his accusation. To
|)bsterity^ the ^* Mac-Flecnoe" possesses a decided superiority
over the " Dunciad^" for a very few facts make us master of the
argument; whUe that of the latter poem^ excepting the Sixdi
Book, where the satire is more general^ requires a note at every
tenth line to render it even intelligiUe.
Mr Malone has given us the title of the first edition of " Mae^
Flecnoe/' which the present Editor has never seeuy as indeed it is
of the last degree of rarity. It was pidriished not hj Tonson, but
byD. Green, and entitled^ /' Mac«Flecnoe, or a Satire on the
True-blue* Protestant Poet> T. S.; by the Author of Absalom
and Achitophel." It consisted only of one sheet and a half^ and
was sold for twopence. The satire was too personal, and too poiff^
nant» to fail in attracting immediate attention, and accordmgijr
the poem was quickly sold off! It was not republished until it
appeared in Tonson's first Miscellany, in 1684, with a few slight
alterations, intended either to point particular vieiMS, oar to cor*
rect errors of the press, or pen. It must have been generalbr
known, that Dryden was the author of this satire, both becattieit
is stated in the title-page to be by the author of '^ Absalom and
Achitophel," and because there existed no contemporary poet to
whom so masterly a production could have been ascribed, even
with remote probability ; yet Shadwell, in his dedication of the
Tenth Satire of Juvenal, (a most miserable performance,) says, that
Dryden, when he taxed him with being the author, *^ denied it
with all the imprecations he could think of;" an accusation which
was echoed by Brown, though apparently upon the authority of
Shadwell alone, t From this averment, which is probably made
far too broadly, we can only infer, that Dryden, like Swift in
the same predicament, left his adversary to prove what he had
no title to call upon him to confess ; for that he seriously meant
to disavow a performance, of whieh he had, firom tkp very be»
ginning, sufficiently avouched himself the author, can hardly be
supposed for a moment. It has indeed been noticed, that our
author has omitted this poem, as well as the ** £ulogy on Crom-
well," in a list of his plavs and poems subjoined to one of his
plays; but Dryden might not think fit to admit a personal,
ancl what he probably considered as a fugitive satire, into a for*
* This epithet preceded the nickname of Whig. See VoL IX. p. 211.
-f- '* I make bold to use his own expression in ** Mao-Flecnoe,*' if it is hiif I
•ay, for Mr Shadwell, in the pre&ce before his Translation of the Tenth Satire of
Juvenal, has been lately pleased to acquaint the world, that he publicly disowned
the writing it with as solemn imprecations as his friend the Spanish Fziar did the
Cavalier U>renzo.**vi?^a#(m/, &c
4S2 MAC*FLBCNQB.
mal list of his poetry/ We know he enteitiioed a conscious
sens^ of his dignity in this respect ; for, excepting in a slight Mid
passing sarcasm, he never deigned to answ^ any of his literary
adversaries^ excepting Settle and Shadwell ; and he might possi-
bly think, on reflection^ that he had done the latter too much ho-
nour in making him the subject of a separate and laboured poem.
Mr Malone also conceivesi, that he might be with-held from in-
serting this poem in an authoritative list of bis works, by delicacy
towards Dorset, his recent benefieictor, who had thought Shadwell
worthy of the laurel of which our poet had been divested at the
Revolution. Be it as it may» he was afterwards so &r from dis-
owning the poem» that, in the Essay on Satire, he gives it, with
^' Absalom and Achitophelf" as instances of his own attempts at
the Varronian satire*
The purpose and scope of " Mac-Flecnoe" was strangely mis-
construed by the object of it, and by our poet's editors* Shad-
well took it into his heady that Dryden meant seriously to tax
him with being an Irishman ; a charge which he sepsis more an-
xious to refute than seems necessary. Gibber, or whoever wrote
Drjden's Life in the collection bearing his name, supposes, that
Flecnoe, who died in l67Sf had actually succeeded our author in
the office of poet-laureat. Derrick, though he corrects this ^rrori
bas fallen into another, in which he is followed by Dr Johnson,
who considers ^' Mac-Flecnoe" as written in express ridicule of
Shadwell's inauguration as court poet. The scarcity of the first
edition of *'Mac-Flecnoe" might have been some excuse for these
errors, had not the piece been printed in the first Miscellany, in
1684, four years before Dry den's being deposed, and Shadwell
succeeding him. Certainly the two events tallied strangely ; and
the friends of Shadwell might have considered the substantial of-
fice which he gained by the downfall of Dryden, as a just com-
pensation for the ludicrous and mock dignity with which his foe
had invested him.
MAC-PLECNOE.
/ / ■ .
Alt. human things are subject to decay.
And, when fate summons, monarchs must obey.
This Flecnoe found,* who, like Augustus, young
Was call'd to empire, and had governed long ;
In prose and verse was own*d, without dispute.
Through all the realms of Nonsense, abs<Jute.
This aged prince, now flourishing in peace.
And blest with issue of a large increase.
Worn out With businei^s, did at length debate
To settle the succession of the state ; / 0-
And, pondering which of all his sons was fit
To reign^ and wage immortal war with wit.
Cried,— 'Tis resolved ! for nature pleads, that he
Should only rule, who most resembles me.
Shadwell alone my perfect image bears,
Mature in dulness from his tender years ; f •
Shadwell alone, of all my sons, is he.
Who stands confirm'd in full stupidity.
The rest to some faint meaning make pretence.
But Shadwell never deviates into sense ; ^ .-
♦ Note I. t Note 11.
VOL. X. 2 E
434 MAC-FLECNOE.
Some beams of wit on other souls may fall.
Strike through, and make a lucid interval ;
But ShadwelVs genuine night admits no ray.
His rising fogs prevail upon the day.
Besides, his goodly fabric fills the eye.
And seems designed for thoughtless majesty ;
Thoughtless as monarch oaks, that shade the plsdn,
And, spread in solemn state, supinely reign.
Hey wood and Shirley * were but types of thee,
J ^ Thou last great prophet of tautology !
Even I, a dunce of more renown than they.
Was sent before but to prepare thy way ;
And, coarsely clad in Norwich drugget,f came
To teach the nations in thy greater name.
My warbling lute, — ^the lute I whilom strung,—
When to King John of Portugal I sung, —
Wjis but the prelude to that glorious day.
When thou on silver Thames didst cut thy way.
With well-timed oars, before the royal barge,^
n Swell'd with the pride of thy celestial charge ;
And big with hymn, commander of an host,—
The like was ne'er in Epsom blankets tost.^
Methinks I see the new Arion sail,
The lute still trembling underneath thy nail.|[
At thy well-sharpen'd thumb, from shore to shore,
The trebles squeak for fear, the basses roar ;
Echoes, from Pissing- Alley, Shadwell call.
And Shadwell they resound from Aston-Hall.
About thy boat the little fishes throng,
J J As at the morning toast that floats along.
Sometimes, as prince of thy harmonious band.
Thou wield'st thy papers in thy threshing hand ;
* Note III. t Note IV. J Note V.
§ VI. II Note VII.
MAC FLECNOE. 485
St Andres* feet ne'er kept more equal time.
Not even the feet of thy own Psyche's rhyme.
Though they in number as in sense excel ; f
So just, so like tautology, they fell,
That, pale with envy, Singleton :i: forswore
The lute and sword, which he in triumph bore,
And vow*d he ne'er would act Villerius more.—i
Here stopt the good old sire, and wept for joy/ -iX)
In silent raptures of the hopeful boy.
All arguments, but most his plays, persuade,
That for anointed dulness he Was made, >
Close to the walls which fair Augusta bind,
(The fair Augusta much to fears inclin'd,)^
An ancient fabric raised to inform the si^nt^ ' -
There stood of yore, and Barbican it higbt ;
A watch-tower once, biit now, so fate ordains.
Of all the pile an empty name remains ;
From its old ruins brothel-houses rise, ^^
Scenes of lewd loves, and of polluted joys ;
Where their vast courts the mother strumpets keep,
And, undisturb'd by watch, in silence sleep. ||
Near these a nursery erects its head.
Where queens are form'd, and future heroes bred ;
Where unfledged actors learn to laugh and cry ;
Where infant punks their tender voices try,
And little Maximins the gods defy, /j
r t
I
* An eminent dancing-master of the period,
t Note VIIL X Note IX.
j Ailnding* to the political apprehensions of the period, so uni-
versal in the city.
II These lines are a parody on a passage in Cowley's Davideisy
Book I. :
Beneath the dens where unfledged tempests lie,
And infant winds their tender voices try ;
Where their vast court the mother waters keep ;
And, undisturbed by moons, in silence sleep.
480 MAC-FLSCNOB.
Great Fletcher never treads in buskins h^ne,
f ^ Nor greater Jonson dares in socks appear ;
But gentle Simkin* just reception finds
Amidst this monument of vanish'd minds ;
Pure clinches the suburbian muse afihrds^
And Pantonf waging harmless war with words.
Here Flecnoe, as a pmce to fame well known,
Ambitiously design'd his Shadwell's throne.
For ancient Decker^ prophesied long since^
That in this pile should reign a mighty prince^
Bom for a scourge of wit, and flail of sense ;
9 \ To whom true dulness should some Fisyches owe,
But worlds of Misers from his pen should flow ;
Humorists, and Hypocrites, it should produce.
Whole Raymond families, and tribes of Bruce. $
Now empress Fame had published the renown
Of Shadwell's coronation through the town.
Roused by report of Fame, the nations meet.
From near Bunhill, and distant Watling-street.
No Persian carpets spread the imperial way.
But scatter'd limbs of mangled poets lay ;
'V^ From dusty shops neglected authors oome.
Martyrs of pies, and relics of the bum ;
Much Hey wood, Shirley, Ogleby there lay.
But loads of Shadwell almost choked the way ;
Bilk'd stationers for yeomen stood prepared.
And Herringman || was captain of the guard.
The hoary prince in majesty appear*d.
High on a throne of his own labours rear'd ;
* The character of a cobler m an interlade.
t A celebrated punster, according to Derrick.
i Note X. § Note XI.
I Henry Herrin^an, bookseller, published almost all the
poems, plays, and lighter pieces of the day. He was Dryden's
original publisher.
6
.MAC-FLECNOE. 487
At ills right hand our young Ascaniug^ sate^
Rome's other hope> and pillar of the state ; .
His brows thkk fog, instead of glories, grace, 1)^
And lambent dulness play'd around his &ce.
As Hannibal did to the altars come,
SwOTn by his sire, a mortal foe to Kome,
So Shadwell swore, nor ^ould his vow be vain.
That he till death true dulness would maintain ;
And, in his father's right, and realm's defence.
Ne'er to have peace with wit, nor truce with sense.
The king himself the sacred unction made.
As king by office, and as priest by trade.
In his sinister hand, instead of ball, M^
He placed a mighty mug of potent ale ;
L#ove's Kingdom* to his right he did convey.
At once his sceptre, and his rule ofsway ;
Whose righteous lore theprincehad practisedyoung,
And from whose loins recorded Psyche sprung.
His temples, last, with poppies were o'er spread, f
That nodding seem'd to consecrate his head.
Just at the point of time, if fame not lie.
On his left hand twelve reverend owls cHd fly ;—
So Romulus, 'tis sung, by Tyber^s brook, V ^
Presage of sway fix)m twice six vultures took.
The admiring throng loud acclamations make.
And omens of his future empire take.
The sire then shook the honours of his head.
And from his brows damps of oblivion shed
Full on the filial dulness : long he stood^
RepeUing from his breast the raging god
At length burst out in this prophetic mood
* A play q£ Flecnoe's so callffl. See Note XII.
t Perhaps in allusion to Shadwell's frequent use of opium^ as
well as to his dulness.
4S8 MAC-FLECXOE.
Heavens bless my son ! fix>m Ireland let him reign,
) </ To far Barbadoes on the western main ;
Of his dominion may no end be known.
And greater than his father's be his throne ;
Beyond Love's Kingdom let him stretch his pen !— *
He paused, and all the people cried. Amen.—- .
Then thus continued he : My son, advance
Still in new impudence, new ignorance.
Success let others teach, learn thou from me
Fangs without birth, and fruitless industry.
Let Virtuosos in five years be writ,
U') Yet not one thought accuse thy toU of wit.*
Let gentle George in triumph tread the stage.
Make Dorimant betray, and Loveit rage ;
Let Cully, Cockwood, Fopling, charm the pit,t
* And in their folly shew the writer's wit ;
Yet still thy fools shall stand in thy defence
And justify their author's want of sense.
Let them be all by thy own model made
Of dulness, and desire no foreign aid ;
That they to future ages may be known,
^ \\ Not copies drawn, but issue of thy own :
Nay, let thy men of wit too be the same.
All full of thee, and differing but in name ;
But let no alien Sedley interpose,
To lard with wit thy hungry Epsom prose.:]:
And when false flowers of rhetoric thou would'st
cull.
Trust nature ; do not labour to be dull.
But write thy best, and top ; and, in each line.
Sir Formal's oratory will be thine :
Sir Formal, though unsought, attends thy quill,
'"^'^ And does thy northern dedications fill.^
* Note XIII. t Note XIV.
t Note XV. § Note XVI.
MAC-FLECNOE. 489
Nor let false friends seduce thy mind to fame.
By arrogating Jonson's hostile name ;*
Let father Flecnoe fire thy mind with praise.
And uncle Ogleby thy envy raise.
Thou art my blood, where Jonson has no part :
What share have we in nature, or in art ?
Where did his wit on learning fix a brand.
And rail at arts he did not understand ?
Where made he love in Prince Nicander's Vein, ^
Or swept the dust in Psyche's humble strain ? f^^
Wheresoldhe bargains," whip-stitch, kiss my arse,"f
Promised a play, and dwindled to a farce ?
When did his muse from Fletcher scenes purloin.
As thou whole Etheridge dost transfuse to thine ?
But so transfused, as oil and waters flow.
His always floats above, thine sinks below.
This is thy province, this thy wonderous way, ^"^'
New humours to invent for each new play : |
This is that boasted bias of thy mind.
By which one way to dulness 'tis inclined ; ^^^
Which makes thy writings lean on one side still.
And, in all changes, that way bends thy will.
Nor let thy mountain-belly make pretence
Of likeness ; thine's a tympany of sense. •
A tun of man in thy large bulk is writ.
But sure thou'rt but a kilderkin of wit. J 9-^
* Note XVII.
t This elegant phrase is the current catch-word of Sir Samuel
Hearty in the '^ Virtuoso," described in the dramatis persome as
*' a brisk, amorous, adventurous, unfortunate coxcomb ; one that^
by the help of numerous, nonsensical bye-words, takes himself to
be a great wit."
i Alluding, probably, to the following vaunt of Shadwell^ in
the Dedication to the " Virtuoso :" " Four of the humours are
entirely new ; and, without vanity, I may say, I ne'er produced a
comedy that had not some natural humour in it not represented
before, and I hope I never shall."
440 MAC-FLECNOB.
Like mine, thy gentle numbers feebly creep ;
Thy tragic muij^ gives smiles, thy comic sleep.
With whate'er gall thou sett'st thyself* to write,
l^ ^ Thy inoflfensive satires never bite ;
In thy felonious heart though venom lies.
It does but touch thy Irish pen, and dies.
Thy genius calls thee not to purchase fame
In keen iambics, but mild anagram.
Leave writing plays, and choose for thy command.
Some peacefm province in Acrostic land.
Th«!« thou may'st wings display, and altars raise,*
And torture one poor word ten thousand ways ;
O, if thou would'st thy different talents suit,
^^ Set thy own songs, and sing them to thy lute. —
He said.*— buthis lastwords were scarcely heard H
For Bruce and Longvil had a trap prepared, >
And down they sent the yet decl^ming bard*! j
Sinking he left his drugget robe behind
Borne upwards by a simterranean wind.
The mantle fell to the young prophet's part,
^ )'] With double portion of his &ther'| art.
• Note XVIII.
f Bruce and Longvil are fine gentlemen in Shadwell's comedy
of the " Virtuoso ;" who, during a florid speech of Sir Formal
Trifle, contrive to get rid of the orator, by letting go a trap-door,
upon which he had placed himself during a declamation. '
NOTES
ON
MAC-FLECNOE.
Note L
This FtecnoeJound.—P. 4S3.
Richard Flecnoe^ the unfortunate bard ^rhom our author has
damned to everlasting fame^ was by birth an Irishman^ and by
profession a Roman Catholic priest. Marvel^ who seems to have
known him at Rome, describes his person as meagre in the ex-
treme, and his itch for scribbling as incessant. The poem, in
which Marvel depicts him, is in the old taste of extravagant bur-
lesque, and the lines are as rugged as Flecnoe could himself have
produced. It contains^ however, sqme witty and some humorous
description^ and the reader may be pleased to see a specimen :
Flecnoe, an English Priest at Rome.
Obliged by frequent vuits of diis man.
Whom, as a pnest, poet, musieiaii,
I for tome branch of Mdehizedec took.
Though be derives himself fiom my Lord Bfooke,
I 80u^t his lodging, which is at the sign
Of the sad Pelican, subject divine
For poetry. There, thr^ stair-cases high.
Which signifies his triple property,
I found at last a chamber as 'twas said, .
But seem'd a coffin set on the stair's head.
Not higher than seven, nor larger than three feet ;
There neither was a cdling, nor a sheet.
Save that the ingenious door did, as you come.
Turn in, and shew to wainscot half the room :
Yet of his state no man could have oomplain*d.
There being no bed where he emertainM :
442 NOTES ON MAC-FLECNOE.
And though within this cdl so narrow pent,
He*d ftaozaf for a whole apartement.
•Nothing now, dinner staid.
But till he bad himself a body made ;
I mean till he were dressM ; for else, so thin
He stands, as if he only fed had been
With consecrated w|ifers ; and the host
Hath sure more fledi and Uood than he can boast
This basso-relievo of a num.
Who, as a camel tall, yet easily can
The needless eye thread without any stitch ;
His only impossible is to be rich.
Lest his too subtle body, growing rare.
Should leave his soul to w^der in the air.
He therefore circumscribes himself in rhyme:;,
And, swaddled in*8 own paper seven times.
Wears a dose jacket of poetic buff.
With which he doth his third dimension stuff.
Thus armed underneath, he overall
Doth make a primitive sotana fall ;
And over that, yet casts an antique doak,
Worn at the first council of Antioch,
Which, by the Jews Ions; hid and disesteemM,
He heard of by traditiod and redeepiM ;
But were he not in this black habit deckM,
This half transparent man would soon reflect
Each colour that he past by, and be seen
As the camelion, yellow, blue, or green.
It appears that Flecnoe either laid aside, or disguised, his spi-
ritual character, when he returned to England ; but he still pre-
served extensive connections with the Roman Catholic nobility
and gentry.* He probably wrote upon many occasional sub-
jects, but his poetry has fallen into total oblivion. I have parti-
cularly sought in vain for his verses to King John of Portugal, to
which Dryden alludes a little lower. Langbaine mentions foiu* of
his plays, namely, "Damoiselles a la Mode," " Erminia," •* Love's
Dominion," and " Love's Kingdom," (of which more hereafter ;)
but none of these were ever acted, 'excepting the last. This
gave Flecnoe great indignation, which he thus vents against the
players in his preface to " Damoiselles a la Mode." " For the act-
ing of this comedy, those who have the governing of the stage
have their humour, and would be entreated ; and I have mine,
and won't entreat them : and were all dramatic writers of my
mind, they should wear their old plays thread-bare before they
* An anonymous poet ascribes the estimation in which he was held to his
poetical propensities :
Verse the famed Flecnoe raised, the muses* sport,
From drudging for the stage to drudge at court.
' N0TE5 ON MAC-Fl4BqK0£, 443
should have any new till tbey Ixittec understood their own inte*
rest^ and how to distinguish betwixt good and bad." Notwith-
standing this ill uaage^ hehonoured the players so far, as to pre^
"fix to each ^laracter, in the dramatis persome of his pieces, the
name of the^actor, by whom^ had the managers been less inex-
orable, he meant it should have been perfcnrmed. But thia he did
iac the sake of the gentle reader, whom he assures, that a lively
imagination being thus assisted in bodying forth the character, lie
4Baaj receive as much pleasure from the perusal as from the actual
representation of the performance. Flecnoe bore the damnation
of the only one of his plays which was represented^ with the same
valiant indifference with whidihe supported therebuffs of the play-
ers. In ishort, he seems to have been fitted for an incorrigible scrib-
bler, by a happy fund of self-satisfaction, upon which neither the
censures of criticism, northe united hisses of a whole nation, could
snake the slightest impression. When or how Flecknoe died is
iineertain, and of very little consequence ; I presume, however,
that he was dead when this satire was published. I am uncertain
whether the reader will think, that this poor poetaster merited
mercy at the hands of Dryden, for the following lines which he
had written in his praise, and which, at any rate, may serve as a
specimen of Flecnoe's poetry :
Dryden, the muses darling and delight.
Than whom none ever flew so high a flight :
Some have their veins so drossy, as from earth.
Their muses only seem to. have ta*en their birth.
Other but water.poets are, have gone
No farther than to the fount of Helicon :
And they* re but airy ones, whose muse soars up
No higher than to Moimt Parnassus top ;
Whilst thou, with thine, dost seem to have mounted higher
Than he who fetch from heaven celestial fire ;
And dost as far surpass all others, as
Fire does all other dements surpass.
Flecknoe's memory being only preserved by this satire, his very
name came to be identified with its title. King, in '' A Dialogue
in the Shades," introduces him under the name o£ ikloc-Fleck-
noe ; and Derrick falls into the same error.
Note II.
Shadwell alone my perfect image bears,
Mature in dulnessfrom his tenaer yearsm^-^P* 433.
Thomas Shadwell was bom at Santon-hall, in Norfolk, in
which county his father represented a very ancient familv. He
was educated at Caius College, in^ Cambridge, and placed in the
Middle Temple to study law ; but, like many of the inhabitants of
444 KOTBS ON MAC-FLECKOE.
these baildings^ he preferred the smoother parts of litenHare. He
made several essays in heroic verse^ all or which are deplorably
bad. Thev are chiefly occasicmal pieces ; as, an Address to the
Prince of Orange on his Landing, another to Qneen Maryy and
a Translation of the Tenth Satire of Jnvenal ; which,4hotu^ pre-
fiu^ by a violent refutation of our author's attacks upcmhiiii, is
so ezecrabley as fully to confirm Dryden's omsures of toe author^s
poetical talents. But in comedy he was much more sucscessftd;
and, in that capacity, Dryden does him ffreatinjustioe,in pronpmi-
dng him a dunce. On the contrary, I think most of Snadwell's
comedies may be read with great pleasure. They do not, indeed,
exhibit any brilliancy of wit, or ingenuity of intrigue; b^tthe d^
racters are truly dramatic, originu, and well drawn ; and the pic-
ture of manners which they exhibit gives us a lively idea of diose
of the audior^s age. As Sliadwell proposed JcHison for his model,
peculiarity of diaracter, or what was then technically called
numour, was what he d^efly wished to exhibit ; and in this, it
cannot be denied that he has often succeeded admirably. His
powers, as a dramatist, are highly rated by Rochester, wha im-
putes his coarseness to rapidity of composition :
}
Of all our modem wits, none seem to mo
Once to have touch*d upon true comedy.
But hasty Shadwell and slow Wycherlqr.
Shadwelrs unfinished works do yet impart
Great proofs of force of genius, none of art ;
With just bold strokes he dashes here and there.
Shewing great mastery with little care ;
Scorning to varnish his good touches o*er,
To make the fools and women praise them more.
AUutUms to Tenth Satire of Horace-
Shadwell's plays are seventeen in number, and were published,
in four volumes, under the inspection of his son^ Sir John Shad-
well, M. D.
Shadwell's life was chequered with misfortune. As he espoused
the party of the Duke of Monmouth, to whom he dedicated
^' Psyche," and. of Shaftesbury, he thought himself obliged to
draw the quill in defence of their cause. Accordingly, as we have
seen, he attempted to answer *' The Medal" on the one hand, and
on the other, accused our author of intending a parallel between
Monmouth and the Duke of Guise, in the play so entitled. This
zeal seems to have cost Shadwell dear; for, besides undergoing the
severe flagellations administered by Dryden, in the " Defence of
the Duke of Guise," in " Absalom and Achitophel," and in the
present poem, he complains, that his ruin was designed, and his life
sought ; and that, for near ten years, he was kept from the exer-
cise of that profession which had afforded him a competent sub-
NOTES ON MAC-FLECNOE. 44&
sistence.* It is no wonder^ therefore, he was among the first to
hail the dawn of the Revolution, by the address already mention-
ed, of which the full title is, '^ A Congratulatory Poem on his
Highness the Prince of Orange his coming into England. Writ-
ten by T. & (ThomAs ShadweU,) a True Lover of his Country,
(lOth Jatiuary) 16^9 ;" and that King William distinffui^ked him
by ibe honours <^ the laurel. Dorset, who was hi^ cbamber-
kon^ answered, to those who ramonstrated on ShadweU's lack of
poetical talent, that, without pretending to vouch for Mr Shad-i
wdH's genius, he was sure he was an honest man, Shadw^ did
not long enjoy this triumph over his gi^t enemy. He died 19tb
November* l6Q&ff m the fifty- second year of his s^^ It iasaid^
this event was hastened by his taking an over dose of opium, to
the use of which he was mordinately addicted. ** His deadi,"
says Dr Nidiolas Brady, who preached his funeral sermon,
" seized him suddenly ; but he could not be unprepar^, since, to
my certain knowledge, he never took a dose of opium but he 80«
lemnly recommended himself to God by prayer/' In person,
Shadwell was large, corpulent, and unwieldy ; a circumstance
which our author generally keeps in the eye of the reader.
He seems to have imitated his prototype, Ben Jonson, in gross
and coarse sensual indulgence, and profane conversation. But,
if there be truth in a funeral sermon, he must have correct-
ed these habits before his death ; for Dr Brady tells us, *' that
our author was a man of great honesty and integrity, and invio-
lable fidelity and strictness in his word ; an unalterable friendship
wherever he professed it ; and however the world may be mis-
taken in him, he had a much deeper sense of religion than many
who pretended more to it His natural and acquired abilities,"
continues the Doctor, '^ made him ver^ amiable to all who knew
and conversed with him, a very few bemff equal in the becoming
qualities which adorn and set ofi* a complete gentleman : his very
enemies, if he has now any lefl, will give him this character, at
least if diey knew him so thoroughly as I did."— Cibbsb's Lives
of the Poets, Article Shadwell, Vol. III.
* £{nstle dedicatory to '* Bury.£ur/' addressed to the Earl of Dorset
•f See the inscription intended for his monument in Westminister Abbey by his
son Sir John Shadwell, in the Life prefixed to ShadvelVi Worics, But it was
altered before it was placed in the Abbey, and a blunder in the date seems to
luTe cre^ iB«*«See Cibbsr's Hva of the Poti9y VoL III. pw 49.
446 NOTES ON MAC-FLECNOE.
Note III.
Ileywood and Shirley. ^^V, 434.
Voluranious dnunaUc authors, who flourished in the beginning
of the l7th century. There were no less than four Heywoods
who wrote plays ; so that, Wistanley says, the name of Heywood
seemed to he destinated to the stage. But he whom Dryden here
means, is Thomas Hey wood» a person rather to be admired for
the fadlity, than for the excellence of his compositions. Every
place and situation was alike to him while composing ; and the
fiivourite register of his scenes was the back of a tavern bill. Far
the greater part of his labours are now lost ; and yet there re-
main, in the libraries of the curious, twenty-four printed plays by
Thomas Heyv^ood* He was an actor by profession, and a good
sdiolar, as is evinced by several of his classical allusions. Hisf
plays may be examined with advantage by the antiquary, but af-
ford slender amusement to the lovers of poetry. The following
character of him, by an old poet^ is preserved by Langbaine:
-Heywood sage.
The apologetic Atlas of the stage ;
Well of the golden age he conld entreat.
But little of the metal he could get.
Threescore sweet babes he fashioned at a lumpr
For he was christenM in Parnassus pump,
The mu^es* gossip to Aurora*s bed ;
And ever since that time his face was red.
If we cannot call Heywood a second Lope de Vega, in point of
the extent of his dramatic works, he overtops most English au-
thors ; since he assures us, in his preface to the ^* English Travel-
ler," that it was one reserved among two hundred and twenty
plays, in which he had either had " a whole hand, or, at the
least, a main finger." It is a pity, as Johnson said of Churdiill,
so fruitful a tree should have borne only crabs.
Jaraes Shirley, whom our author most unjustly couples with
Heywood, to whom, as well as to Shadwell, he was greatly su-
perior, was born in 1594, and, although for some time a school-
master, appears to have lived chiefly by the stage. When the Ci-
vil Wars broke out, he followed the fortune of William, Earl of
Newcastle. During the usurpation, when theatres were prohi-
bited, he returned to his original profession of a schoolmaster.
He died of fatigue and distress of mind during the great fire of
London, in lGG6. He wrote forty-two plays, and there are thirty-
nine in print ; a complete set of which is much esteemed by col-
lectors. Dr Farmer has traced, to this neglected bard, an idea,
which Milton thought not unworthy of adoption.
NOTES ON mac-flecnoe: 447
*' Shitley 18 spoken of witlLcontempt in *' MAO-Flecnoe,'' but
his imagination is soroetimes fine to an extraordinary d^ree, I
recollect a passage in the Fourth Book of the ** Paradise Lost,"
which hath been suspected of imhadon^ as a prettiness below the
genius of. Mil$on ;.I mean^ where Uri^l glides backward and for-
ward to heaven on a sun-beam. Dr Newton informs us, ^at this
might possibly be hinted by a picture of Annabal Caracd, in the
king of France's cabinet j but I am apt to believe^ that Milton
bad been- struck with a portraitin Shirley. Fernando^ in the co-
medy of ^^ The BrMhers/' l652, describes Jacinta'at vespers:
Her eye did seem to labour with a tear,
Which suddenly took birth* but overweigh^d
With its own swelling, dropped upon her bosom ;
Which, by reflection of her light, appearM
' 'As ftatiire meant her sorrow for an ornament :
After, her looks grew cheerful, and I saw
A smile shoot graceful upward from her eyes.
As if they had gained a victoiy o*er griefs .
And with it many beams twisted U^cmselves^
Upon whose golden threads tJie angels walk
To and again from heaven-
Essay on the Learning of Shakespeare.
Note IV.
Coarsely clad in Norwich druggeL — P. 434.
This stuff appears to have been sacred to the use of the pooref
votaries of Parnassus ; and it is somewhat odd, that it seems to
have been the dress of our poet himself in the earlier stage of his
fortunes. An old gentleman^ who corresponded with the " Gen-
tleman's Magazine/' savs^ he remembers our author in this dress.
Vol. XV. p. 99.
Note V.
When thou on silver Thames didst cttt thy may^
With rvelUtimed oars, before tlie royal barge,—?. 434.
I confess myself, after some research, at a loss to discover the
nature of the procession, in which Shadwell seems to have acted
as leader of the band. One is at first sight led to consider the
whole procession as imaginary, and preliminary to his supposed
coronation ; but on closer investigation, it appears, that Flecnoe
talks of some real occurrence, on which Shadwell preceded the
royiJ barge, at the head of a boat-load of performers. We may
see, in the seventh note, that he professed to understand music,
and may certainly have been called upon to assist or direct the
448 NOTES ON MAC-FLECNOE.
baiuT during some entertunment upon the river^ aft flnuiieinent
to which King Charles was particularly addicted.
Note VI.
7il&< like was ne'er in Epsom blankets tosi^^T. 434.
This seems to be in ridicule of the foUowing elegant exprefluim
whidi Shad well puts in the mouth of a fine lady : " Such a fd*
low as hedeserves to he tossed in a blanket*" This, howerer^does
not occur in '« Epsom- Wells," but in another of Shadwdl'a co<
mcdiesy called *' The Sullen Lovers."
• I
Note VII.
Methinks I seethe new Arion sail,
The lute still trembling underneath % nail. — P. 434w
Shadwell appears to have been a proficient in music^ and to
have himself adjusted that of his opera of " Peyche," which Dry-
den here treats yrith such consummate contempt. Indeed, in the
preface of that choice piece^ he affected to valuehimself more upon
the music than the poetry, as appears from the following passage
in the preface : ^* I nad rather be author of one scene of comedy,
like some of Ben Jonson's, than of all the best plays of this kind,
that have been, or ever shall be written ; good comedy requiring
much more wit and judgment in the writer, than any rhiming,
unnatural plays can Jo. This I have so little valued, that I have
not altered six lines in it since it was first written, which (except
the songs at the marriage of Psyche, in the last scene) was all
clone sixteen months since. In all the words which are sung, I
did not so much take care of the wit or fancy of them, as the
making of them proper for nmsic ; in which I cannot but have
some little knowledge, having been bred, for many years of my
youth, to some performance in it.
** I chalked out the way to the composer, (in all but the song
of Furies and Devils, in the fifth act,) having designed which
line 1 would have sung by one, which by two, which by three,
which by four voices, &c. and what manner of humour I would
have in all the vocal music."
Note VIII.
Not even the feet of thy own Psyche's rhyme,
Though they in number as in sense excel. — P. 435.
This unfortunate opera was imitated from the French of Mo-
liere, and finished, as Shadwell assures us, in the space of five
weeks. The author having no talents for poetry, and no ear for
1,
NOTES ON MAC-FLECNOE, 449
versification^ '^ Psyche" is one of the most contemptible of the
frivolous dramatic class to which it belongs. It was^ nowever/go^
up with extreme magnificence^ and received much applause on its
first appearance, in 1675. To justify the censure of Dryden, it is
only necessary to quote a few of the verses^ taken at random as a
specimen, of what he afterwards calls '' Prince Nicander's vein :"
Nicander, Madam, I to this solitude am come,
Humbly from you to hear my latest doom.
Psyche* The first ccmimand which I did give.
Was, that you should not see me here $
The next command you will receive.
Much harsher will to you appear.
Nk* How long, fair Psyche, shall I sigh in vain ?
How long of scorn and cruelty complain ?
Your eyes enough have wounded me,
You need not add your cruelty.
You against me too many weapons chuse.
Who am defenceless against each you use.
The poet himself seems so conscious of the sad inferiority of
his verses, that he makes, in the preface, a half apology, im<«
plying a mortifying consciousness, that it was necessary to an*
ticipate condemnation, by pleading guilty. " In a thing written
in fiYQ weeks, as this was, there must needs be many errorSf
ivhich I desire true critics to pass by ; and which, perhaps, I
see myself, but having much business, and indulging myself with
some pleasure too, I have not had leisure to mend them ; nor
would it indeed be worth the pains, since there are so many splen-
did objects in the play, and such variety of diversion, as will not
give the audience leave to mind the writing ; and I doubt not but
the candid reader will forgive the faults, when he considers, that
the great design was to entertain the town with variety of music^
curious dancing, splendid scenes, and machines ; and that I do
not, nor ever did intend, to value myself upon the writing of this
play."
Shadwell, however, had no right to plead, that this afi*ected
contempt of his own lyric poetry ought to have disarmed the cri-
ticism of Dryden ; because, in the very same preface, he sets out
by insinuating, that he could easily have beaten our author on
his own strong ground of rhyme, had he thought such a contest
worth winning. So much, at least, may be inferred from e
following declaration :
'^ In a good-natured country, I doubt not but this, . my first
essay in rhyme, would be at least forgiven, especially when I
promise to offend no more in this kind ; but I am sensible that
here I must encounter a great many difficulties. In the first
place, (though I expect more candour from the best writers in
rhyme,) the more moderate of them (who have yet a numerous
VOL. X. 2 F
450 NOTES ON MAC-FLECNOE.
party, good judees being very scarce) are very much offended
with me, fcHr leavmg my own province of comedy, to invade their
dominion of rhyme : but, methinks, they might be satisfied, since
I have made but a small incursion, and am resolved to retire.
And, were I never so powerful, they should escape me, as the
northern people did the Romans ; their craggy barren territories
being not worth conquering."
Note IX.
'Pale tviih env^j Singleton forswore
The lute and sword^ rvkick he in triumph borCf
And vowed he ne'er would act Fillerius more* — P. ^35,
Singleton was a musical performer of some eminence, and is
mentioned as such in one of Shadwell's comedies. — " 'Sbud,
they are the best music in England : there's the best shawm and
bandore, and a fellow that acts Tom of Bedlam to a miracle ;
and they sing^ Charon, oh, gentle Charon ! and Corne my Daphne,
better than Singleton and Clayton did." — Bury Fair, Act III.
I^bene I. Villerius, the grand master of the knights hospitallers,
is a principal character in *' The Siege of Rhodes," an opera by
Sir William D'Avenant, where great part of the dialogue is in a
sort of lyrical recitative ; in the execution of which Singleton
seems to have been celebrated. The first speech of this valo-
rous chief of the order of St John runs thus :
Ann, arm ! let our drums beat.
To all our outguards, a retreat ;
And to our main-guards add
Files double lined ; from the parade
Send horse to drive the fields,
Prevent what ripening summer yields ;
To all the foe would save
Set fire, or give a secret grave.
The combination of the lute and sword, which Dryden alludes
to, is ridiculed in " The Rehearsal," where Bayes informs his cri-
tical friends, that his whole battle is to be represented by two per-
sons ; *' for I make 'em both come forth in armour cap-a-pee,
with their swords drawn, and hung with a scarlet ribband at their
wrists, (which you know represents fighting enough,) each of
them holding a lute in his hand. — Smith. How, sir ; instead of a
buckler ?'^Bayes. O Lord, O Lord ! instead of a buckler ! Pray,
sir, do you ask no more questions. I make 'em, sir, play the
battle in recitaiivo ; and here's the conceit : Just at the very same
instant that one sings, the other, sir, recovers you his sword, and
puts himself into a warlike posture ; so that you have at once
your ear entertained with music and good language^ and your eye
NOTES ON MAC-FLECNOE. 451
satisfied vith the garb and accoutrements of war." — Rehearsal,
Act V. The adverse generals enter accordingly, and perform a
sort of duet, great part of which is a parody upon the lyrical
dialogue of Vulerius and the Soldan Solyman, in the ^* Siege of
Rhodes/'
Note X.
Ancient Decker. — P, 436.
Decker, who did not altogether deserve the disgraceful classifi-
cation which Dn^den has here assigned to him, was a writer of the
reign of James 1., and the antagonist of Jonson. I suspect Dry-
den knew, or at least recollected, little more of him, than that he
was ridiculed, by his more renowned adversary, under the cha-
racter of Crispinus, in *^ The Poetaster." Indeed, nothing can
be more unfortunate to an inferior wit, than to be engaged in
controversy with an author of established reputation ; since,
though he may maintain his ground with his contemporaries,
posterity will always judge of him by the character assigned in
the writings of his antagonist* Decker was admitted to write
in conjunction with Webster, Ford, Brome, and even Massinger ;
and though he was only employed to fill up the inferior scenes,
he certainly displays some theatrical talent. Indeed he was iudged,
by many of his own time, to have retaliated Jonson's satire with
success, in ** The Untrussing of the Humorous Poet;" where Ben
is designed under the character of Horace Junior. Besides,
Decker possessed some tragic powers : *' The Honest Whore,"
which is altogether his own production, has several scenes of
great merit.
Note XI.
But worlds qf Misers from his pen should flow ;
Humorists, and Hypocrites, it should produce.
Whole Raymond families, and tribes of Bruce, — P. ^SQ,
Shadwell translated, or rather imitated, Moliere's *' h'Avsire,"
under the title of " The Miser." In Langbaine's opinion, he has
greatly improved upon his original ; but in this, as in other cas^,
the critic is probably singular. *^ The Miser" was printed in
1672.
" The Humorists" was a play professedly written to expose
the reiff ning vices of the age ; but as it was supposed to contain
many direct personal allusions, it was unfavourably received by
the audience. Shadwell, by way, I suppose, of insinuating to
the readers an accurate notion of the characters, or humours,
which he means to represent, is, in this and other pieces, at great
452 NOTES ON MAC-FLECNOE.
pains to give a long and minute account of each individual in the
dramatis pertona* Thus we have in '^ The Humorists/'
'^ CraxVt — One that is in pox, in debt^ and all the misfortunes
that can be ; and^ in the midst of all, in love with most women,
and thinks most women in love with him.
*' Drybob, — A fantastic coxcomb* that makes it his business to
speak mie things and wit, as he thinks ; and always takes notice,
or makes others take notice^ of any thin^ he thinks well said.
Brisk, — A brisk, airy, fantastic, singing, dancing coxcomb,
that sets up for a well-bred man, and a man of honour ; but mis-
takes in every thing, and values himself only upon the vanity and
foppery of gentlemen."
I do not know what to make of the *' Hypocrites." Shadwell
wrote no play so entitled ; nor is it likely he gave any assistance
to Medboume, who translate the famous *' Tartuffe" of Moliere,
for they were of different opinions in religion and politics. Per-
haps Dryden means the characters of the Irish priest and Tory
chaplain in *' The Lancashire Witches."
Ra3rmond is a character in '^ The Humorists," described in the
dramatis personoe as a '^ gentleman of wit and humour." Bruce,
a similar person in " The Virtuoso," characterized as a " gen-
tleman of wit and sense." In tiiese, and in all other characters
where wit and an easy style were requisite, Shadwell failed to*
tally. His forte lay in broad, strong comic painting. ^
Note XII.
Oglehy.—?. 436.
This gentleman, whose name, thanks to our author and Pope,
has become almost proverbial for a bad poet, was originally a
Scottish dancing-master, when probably Scottish dancing was not
so fashionable as at present, and afterwards master of tJie revels
in Ireland. He translated " The Iliad," " The Odyssey," '' The
iEneid," and " Esop's Fables," into verse; and his versions were
splendidly adorned with sculpture. He also wrote three epic
poems, one of which was fortunately burnt in the Fire of London.
Moreover he conducted the ceremony of Charles the Second's co-
ronation,* and erected a theatre in Dublin.
• See Vol. IX. p. 61.
l^OTES ON MAC-FLECNOE. 453
NoteXII.
" Lom*s Kingdom:'—?. 437.
This was a play of Flecnoe's. The full title is, *' Love's
Kingdom, a Pastoral Tragi-Comedy ; not as it was acted at the
theatre, near Lincoln's-Inn, hut as it was written, and since cor«
rected hj Richard Flecnoe ; with a short treatise of the English
stage, &c. by the same author. London, printed by R. Wood for
the author, 1664."
The author's account of this piece, in the advertisement, i)s,
** For the plot, it is neat and handsome, and the language soft
and gentle, suitable to the persons who speak ; neither on the
ground, nor in the clouds, but just like die stage, somewhat ele-
vated above the common. In neither no stiffness, and, I hope,
no impertinence nor extravagance, into which your young wri«
ters are too apt to run, who, whilst they know not well what to
^o, and are anxious to do enough, most commimly overdo.
i»
THE PROLOGUE.
Spoken by Venus from ihe Cloudt*
If ever you have heard of Venus' name.
Goddess of Beauty, I that Venus am ;
Who have to^y descended from my sphere.
To welcome you unto ** Love's Kingdom" here ;
Or rather to my sphere am come, since I
Am present no where more nor in the sky.
Nor any ishmd in the woHd than this.
That wholly from the world divided is :
For Cupid, you behold him here in me,
(For there where beauty is. Love needs must be,)
Or you may yet more easily descry
Him 'mong Uie ladies, in each amorous eye ;
And 'mongst the galhmts may as easily trace
Him to their bosoms from each beauteous face.
May then, fair ladies, you
Find all your servants true ;
And, gallants, may you find
The l^ies all as lund.
As by your noble favours you declare
How much you friends unto ** Love*s Kingdom** are ;
Of which yourselves compose so great a part.
In your fiur eyes, and in your loving heart.
This specimen of *^ Love's Kingdom" is extracted from the
^'Censura LUeraria," No. IX. ; to which publication it was com-
municated by Mr Preston of Dublin. To '' Love's Ean^om"
Flecnoe subjoined a Discourse on the English Stage^ wmch is
sometimes quoted as authority.
454 NOTES ON IfAOFLECNOE.
Note XIII.
Let Viriuoiog in Jive years he writ.
Yet not one thought accuse thy toil cfwit.^-'V. ^S.
Shadwell's comedy called '* The Virtuoso/' was first acted in
1676 with ffreat applause. It is by no means destitute of merit;
though, as m all his other pieces, it is to be found rather in the
walk of coarse humour, than of elegance, or wit
The character of Sir Nicholas Gimcradk, the Virtuoso, whose
time was spent in discoveries, although he had never invented any
thing so useful as an engine to pare a cream cheese with, is very
ludicrous. I cannot, however, but notice, that some of the disco-
veries, which are ridiculed with so much humour, as the composi-
tion of various kinds of air, for example, have been realized by the
philosophers of this age. As the whole piece seems intended as a
satire on the researches of the Royal Society, its scope could not
be very pleasing to Dryden, a zealous member of that learned
body ; even if he could have forgiven some hits levelled against
him personally in the preface and the epilogue, which have been
quoted in the introduction to Mac-Flecnoe.
Note XIV.
Let gentle George in triumph tread the stage,
Make Dorimani betray, and Loveit rage ;
Let Cully, Cockwood, Fopling, charm the pit.^^V, ^S,
The plays of Sir George Etherege were much admired during
the end of the 17th and beginning of the 18th century, till the re-
finement of taste condemned their indecency and immorality. Sir
George himself was a courtier of the first rank in the gay court
of Charles II. Our author has addressed an epistle to him, when
he was Resident at Ratisbon. Etherege followed King James to
France, according to one account ; but others say he was killed
at Ratisbon by a fall down stairs, after he had been drinking free-
ly. Sir Fopling Flutter, Dorimant, and Loveit, are characters in
his well-known comedy, " The Man of Mode." Cully and Cock-
wood occur in ^' Love in a Tub," another of his plays.
Note XV.
But lei no alien Sedley interpose.
To lard with wit thy hungry Epsom prose.'^V. 438.
The first edition bears Sydney, which is evidently a mistake.
Shadwell's comedy of" Epsom Wells" was very successful ; which
was imputed by his enemies to the assistance he received from
NOTES ON MAC-FLECNOE^ ^55
the witty Sir Charles Sedley. This he attempts to refute in the
following lines of the second prologue, spoken when the piece was
represented before the king and queen at Whitehall :
If this for him had been by others done.
After this honour sure tbey*]l claim their own.
But it is nevertheless certain, that Shadwell acknowledges obli«
gations of the nature supposed, in the Dedication of the '^ True
Widow" to Sir Charles Sedley. '' No success whatever," he there
savs, " could have made me alter my opinion of this comedy^
which had the benefit of your correction and alteration^ and the
honour of your approbation. And I heartily wish you had given
yourself the trouble to have reviewed all my plaiys, as they came
inaccurately^ and in haste^ from my hands : it would have been
more to my advantage than the assistance of Scipio and Lelius was
to Terence : and I should have thought it at least as much to my
honour, since, by the effects, I find I cannot but esteem you aa
much above both of them in wit, as either of them was above you
in place of the state."
There was a general opinion current, that Shadwell received
assistance in his most successful pieces. A libel of the times, the
reference to which I have mislaid, mentions with contempt the
dulness of his *^ unassisted scenes.*'
Note XVI.
Sir Formal, though unsought, attends thy quiU,
; And does thy northern dedications Jill» — P. 438.
Sir Fonnal Trifle is a florid conceited orator in " The Virtuoso,"
whose character is drawn and brought out with no inconsiderable
portion of humour. Dryden intimates, that his coxcomical infla-
ted style attends Shadwell himself upon the most serious occa^
sions, and particularly in his dedications to the Duke and Duchess
of Newcastle, to whom he has inscribed several of his plays. Hence
Dryden, in the " Vindication of the Duke of Guise," calls him
the Northern Dedicator. The truth is, that Shadwell's prose was
inflated and embarrassed ; and his adulation comes awkwardly
from him, as appears from the opening of the dedication of that
very play, ** The Virtuoso," to tne Duke of Newcastle.
" So long as your grace persists in obliging, I must so on in
acknowledging ; nor can I let any opportunity pass of telling the
world how much I am favoured by you, or any occasion slip of
assuring your grace, that all the actions of my life shall be dedi-
cated to your service ; who, by your noble patronage, your gene-
rosity and kindness, and your continual bounty, have made me
wholly your creature : nor can I forbear to declare, that I am
10
4561,
NOTSS OK MAC-FL£CNO£r
mere ohDged to jour gnoe than to all mankind. And my itA^
fortune im, I can make no ether return^ but a dedaraticm ai my
grateful attarhmimti"
Note XVIL
Nor let fake JHmd* seduce fAy mind tofame.
By arrcgaUng Joneon^s kotHU fMmie.-^P. 4S9.
Shadwell, as appears from many passages of his prologues and
pte&ce; and as we have had repeated occasion to notice^ affected
to consider Ben Jonson as the obiect of his emulation. There
were indeed many points of resemblance between them^ both as-
anthors and men. In their habits, a life spent in taverns^ and
in their persons, huge corpulence, probably acquired by habits of
sensual mdulffence^ much coarseness of manners, and an ungentle-
manly vulffanty of dialect, seem to have distinguished both the
original and the imitator. As a dramatist, although ShadweQ £UI»
short of the learned vigour and deep erudition of Ben Jonson, his
dry hard comic painting entitles him to be considered as an infe-
rior artist of the same school. Dryden more particularly resented
Shadwell's reiterated and affected praises of Jonson, because he
had himself censured that writer in the epilogue to '' The Conquest
of Granada," and in the critical defence ofthat poem.* Hence
he considered Shadwell's ranking himself under Jonson's banners
as a sort of personal defiance. But Dryden more particularly al-
ludes to the following ebullition of admiration, which occurs in
the epilogue to Shadwell's ^' Humorists :"
The mighty prince of poets, learned Ben^
^ho alone dived into the minds of men.
Saw all their wanderings, aU their foIHes knew.
And all their vain fantastic passions drew
In images so lively and so true.
That there each hwnorist himself might view ;
Yet only lashM the errors of the times.
And ne er exposed the persons, but the crimes ;
And never cared for private frowns, when he
Did but chastise public iniquity :
He fear*d no pimp, no pickpocket, or drab ;
He feat*d no bravo, nor no ruffian's stab :
'Twas he alone true humours understood.
And with great wit and judgment made them good.
A humour is the bias of the mind.
By which with violence 'tis one way inclined ;
• See Vol IV. p. 211, &c.
NOTES ON MAC-FLKckFOE. 457
It makes our actions leaiL oo one side still.
And in all dianges that way bends the wiU.
He only knew and represented rigbt
Thus none, but mighty Jonson, e'er oouU wiite»
Expect not then, sinoe that most flourishing age
Of Ben, to see true humour on tiie stages
All that have since been writ, if they Im scann*d.
Are but faint copies from that master's hand.
Our poet now, amongst those petty things,
Alas! his too weak trifling humour brings ;
As much beneath the worst in Jonson's ^ys.
As his sreat merit is above our praise.
For coiud he imitate that great author right,
He would with ease all poets else outwtite.
But to outgo all other men, would be,
O noble Ben ! less than to follow theew
' Dryden, in the text, turns the idea of bias into ridicule ; for its
original application beinff to the leaden weight disposed in the
centre of a bowl, which inclines its course in rolling, he alleges^
that the onl^ bias whidi can influence Shadwell is ms predomi*
nant stupidity.
Note XIX.
Leave rvrilir^ plat^Sf and chusefor thy command.
Some peacefvi province in Acrostic land.
There thou may* si tvings display ^ and altars raisCf
And torture one poor word ten thousand ways^^^F* 440.
Among other efforts of gentle dulness^ may be noticed the sin-
gular fashion which prevailed during the earlier period of the 1 7th
centurv, of writing m such changes of measure, that by the dif-
ferent length and arrangement of the lines, the poem was made to
resemble an egg, an altar, a pair of wings, a cross, or some other
fanciful figure. This laborious kind of tricing was much akin to
the anagrams and acrostics. Those who are curious to read, or
rather to see, a specimen of such whimsies^ (for they are raUier
addressed to the eye than the understanding,) may find a dirge
of Mr George WiUiers, arranged into the figure of a rhomboid,
in Ellis's '' Specimens of the Early English Poets," VoL III. p.
100. They are mentioned with anagrams, acrostics, rebuses, and
other exercises of false wit, in the *' Spectator," No. 63.
THE END OF THE TENTH VOLUME.
Edinbuagh :
Printed by James Ballantync & Co.