be; but so long as they take it for a maxim, that the king is but an
officer in trust, that the people, or their representatives, are
superior to him, judges of miscarriages, and have power of revocation,
it is a plain case, that whenever they please they may take up arms;
and, according to their doctrine, lawfully too. Let them jointly
renounce this one opinion, as in conscience and law they are bound to
do, because both scripture and acts of parliament oblige them to it,
and we will then thank their obedience for our quiet, whereas now we
are only beholden to them for their fear. The miseries of the last war
are yet too fresh in all men's memory; and they are not rebels, only
because they have been so too lately. An author of theirs has told us
roundly the west-country proverb; _Chud eat more cheese, and chad it;_
their stomach is as good as ever it was; but the mischief on't is,
they are either muzzled, or want their teeth. If there were as many
fanatics now in England, as there were christians in the empire, when
Julian reigned, I doubt we should not find them much inclined to
passive obedience; and, "Curse ye Meroz"[10] would be oftener preached
upon, than "Give to Cæsar," except in the sense Mr Hunt means it.
Having clearly shewn wherein the parallel consisted, which no man can
mistake, who does not wilfully, I need not justify myself, in what
concerns the sacred person of his majesty. Neither the French history,
nor our own, could have supplied me, nor Plutarch himself, were he now
alive, could have found a Greek or Roman to have compared to him, in
that eminent virtue of his clemency; even his enemies must acknowledge
it to be superlative, because they live by it. Far be it from
flattery, if I say, that there is nothing under heaven, which can
furnish me with a parallel; and that, in his mercy, he is of all men
the truest image of his Maker.
Henry III. was a prince of a mixed character; he had, as an old
historian says of another, _magnas virtutes, nec minora vitia;_ but
amongst those virtues, I do not find his forgiving qualities to be
much celebrated. That he was deeply engaged in the bloody massacre of
St Bartholomew, is notoriously known; and if the relation printed in
the memoirs of Villeroy be true, he confesses there that the Admiral
having brought him and the queen-mother into suspicion with his
brother then reigning, for endeavouring to lessen his authority, and
draw it to themselves, he first designed his accuser's death by
Maurevel, who shot him with a carbine, but failed to kill him; after
which, he pushed on the king to that dreadful revenge, which
immediately succeeded. It is true, the provocations were high; there
had been reiterated rebellions, but a peace was now concluded; it was
solemnly sworn to by both parties, and as great an assurance of safety
given to the protestants, as the word of a king and public instruments
could make it. Therefore the punishment was execrable, and it pleased
God, (if we may dare to judge of his secret providence,) to cut off
that king in the very flower of his youth, to blast his successor in
his undertakings, to raise against him the Duke of Guise, the
complotter and executioner of that inhuman action, (who, by the divine
justice, fell afterwards into the same snare which he had laid for
others,) and, finally, to die a violent death himself, murdered by a
priest, an enthusiast of his own religion.[11] From these premises,
let it be concluded, if reasonably it can, that we could draw a
parallel, where the lines were so diametrically opposite. We were
indeed obliged, by the laws of poetry, to cast into shadows the vices
of this prince; for an excellent critic has lately told us, that when
a king is named, a hero is supposed;[12] it is a reverence due to
majesty, to make the virtues as conspicuous, and the vices as obscure,
as we can possibly; and this, we own, we have either performed, or at
least endeavoured. But if we were more favourable to that character
than the exactness of history would allow, we have been far from
diminishing a greater, by drawing it into comparison. You may see,
through the whole conduct of the play, a king naturally severe, and a
resolution carried on to revenge himself to the uttermost on the
rebellious conspirators. That this was sometimes shaken by reasons of
policy and pity, is confessed; but it always returned with greater
force, and ended at last in the ruin of his enemies. In the mean time
we cannot but observe the wonderful loyalty on the other side; that
the play was to be stopped, because the king was represented. May we
have many such proofs of their duty and respect! but there was no
occasion for them here. It is to be supposed, that his majesty himself
was made acquainted with this objection; if he were so, he was the
supreme and only judge of it; and then the event justifies us. If it
were inspected only by those whom he commanded, it is hard if his own
officers and servants should not see as much ill in it as other men,
and be as willing to prevent it; especially when there was no
solicitation used to have it acted. It is known that noble person,[13]
to whom it was referred, is a severe critic on good sense, decency,
and morality; and I can assure the world, that the rules of Horace are
more familiar to him, than they are to me. He remembers too well that
the _vetus comædia_ was banished from the Athenian theatre for its too
much licence in representing persons, and would never have pardoned it
in this or any play.
What opinion Henry III. had of his successor, is evident from the
words he spoke upon his deathbed: "he exhorted the nobility," says
Davila, "to acknowledge the king of Navarre, to whom the kingdom of
right belonged; and that they should not stick at the difference of
religion; for both the king of Navarre, a man of a sincere noble
nature, would in the end return into the bosom of the church, and the
pope, being better informed, would receive him into his favour, to
prevent the ruin of the whole kingdom." I hope I shall not need in
this quotation to defend myself, as if it were my opinion, that the
pope has any right to dispose of kingdoms; my meaning is evident, that
the king's judgment of his brother-in-law, was the same which I have
copied; and I must farther add from Davila, that the arguments I have
used in defence of that succession were chiefly drawn from the king's
answer to the deputies, as they may be seen more at large in pages
730, and 731, of the first edition of that history in English. There
the three estates, to the wonder of all men, jointly concurred in
cutting off the succession; the clergy, who were managed by the
archbishop of Lyons and cardinal of Guise, were the first who promoted
it; and the commons and nobility afterwards consented, as referring
themselves, says our author, to the clergy; so that there was only the
king to stand in the gap; and he by artifice diverted that storm which
was breaking upon posterity.
The crown was then reduced to the lowest ebb of its authority; and the
king, in a manner, stood single, and yet preserved his negative
entire; but if the clergy and nobility had been on his part of the
balance, it might reasonably be supposed, that the meeting of those
estates at Blois had healed the breaches of the nation, and not forced
him to the _ratio ultima regum_, which is never to be praised, nor is
it here, but only excused as the last result of his necessity. As for
the parallel betwixt the king of Navarre, and any other prince now
living, what likeness the God of Nature, and the descent of virtues in
the same channel have produced, is evident; I have only to say, that
the nation certainly is happy, where the royal virtues of the
progenitors are derived on their descendants.[14]
In that scene, it is true, there is but one of the three estates
mentioned; but the other two are virtually included; for the
archbishop and cardinal are at the head of the deputies: And that the
rest are mute persons every critic understands the reason, _ne quarta
loqui persona laboret_. I am never willing to cumber the stage with
many speakers, when I can reasonably avoid it, as here I might. And
what if I had a mind to pass over the clergy and nobility of France in
silence, and to excuse them from joining in so illegal, and so ungodly
a decree? Am I tied in poetry to the strict rules of history? I have
followed it in this play more closely than suited with the laws of the
drama, and a great victory they will have, who shall discover to the
world this wonderful secret, that I have not observed the unities of
place and time; but are they better kept in the farce of the
"Libertine destroyed?"[15] It was our common business here to draw the
parallel of the times, and not to make an exact tragedy. For this once
we were resolved to err with honest Shakespeare; neither can
"Catiline" or "Sejanus," (written by the great master of our art,)
stand excused, any more than we, from this exception; but if we must
be criticised, some plays of our adversaries may be exposed, and let
them reckon their gains when the dispute is ended. I am accused of
ignorance, for speaking of the third estate, as not sitting in the
same house with the other two. Let not those gentlemen mistake
themselves; there are many things in plays to be accommodated to the
country in which we live; I spoke to the understanding of an English
audience. Our three estates now sit, and have long done so, in two
houses; but our records bear witness, that they, according to the
French custom, have sate in one; that is, the lords spiritual and
temporal within the bar, and the commons without it. If that custom
had been still continued here, it should have been so represented; but
being otherwise, I was forced to write so as to be understood by our
own countrymen. If these be errors, a bigger poet than either of us
two has fallen into greater, and the proofs are ready, whenever the
suit shall be recommenced.
Mr Hunt, the Jehu of the party, begins very furiously with me, and
says, "I have already condemned the charter and city, and have
executed the magistrates in effigy upon the stage, in a play called
the Duke of Guise, frequently acted and applauded, &c.[16]"
Compare the latter end of this sentence with what the two authors of
the Reflections, or perhaps the Associating Club of the
Devil-tavern[17] write in the beginning of their libel: - "Never was
mountain delivered of such a mouse; the fiercest Tories have been
ashamed to defend this piece; they who have any sparks of wit among
them are so true to their pleasure, that they will not suffer dulness
to pass upon them for wit, nor tediousness for diversion; which is the
reason that this piece has not met with the expected applause: I never
saw a play more deficient in wit, good characters, or entertainment,
than this is."
For shame, gentlemen, pack your evidence a little better against
another time. You see, my lord chief baron[18] has delivered his
opinion, that the play was frequently acted and applauded; but you of
the jury have found _Ignoramus_, on the wit and the success of it.
Oates, Dugdale and Turberville, never disagreed more than you do; let
us know at last, which of the witnesses are true Protestants, and
which are Irish[19]. But it seems your authors had contrary designs:
Mr Hunt thought fit to say, "it was frequently acted and applauded,
because," says he, "it was intended to provoke the rabble into tumults
and disorder." Now, if it were not seen frequently, this argument
would lose somewhat of its force. The Reflector's business went
another way; it was to be allowed no reputation, no success; but to be
damned root and branch, to prevent the prejudice it might do their
party: accordingly, as much as in them lay, they have drawn a bill of
exclusion for it on the stage. But what rabble was it to provoke? Are
the audience of a play-house, which are generally persons of honour,
noblemen, and ladies, or, at worst, as one of your authors calls his
gallants, men of wit and pleasure about the town[20], - are these the
rabble of Mr Hunt? I have seen a rabble at Sir Edmundbury Godfrey's
night, and have heard of such a name as true Protestant
meeting-houses; but a rabble is not to be provoked, where it never
comes. Indeed, we had one in this tragedy, but it was upon the stage;
and that's the reason why your Reflectors would break the glass, which
has shewed them their own faces. The business of the theatre is to
expose vice and folly; to dissuade men by examples from one, and to
shame them out of the other. And however you may pervert our good
intentions, it was here particularly to reduce men to loyalty, by
shewing the pernicious consequences of rebellion, and popular
insurrections. I believe no man, who loves the government, would be
glad to see the rabble in such a posture, as they were represented in
our play; but if the tragedy had ended on your side, the play had been
a loyal witty poem; the success of it should have been recorded by
immortal Og or Doeg[21], and the rabble scene should have been true
Protestant, though a whig-devil were at the head of it.
In the mean time, pray, where lies the relation betwixt the "Tragedy
of the Duke of Guise," and the charter of London? Mr Hunt has found a
rare connection, for he tacks them together, by the kicking of the
sheriff's. That chain of thought was a little ominous, for something
like a kicking has succeeded the printing of his book; and the charter
of London was the quarrel. For my part, I have not law enough to state
that question, much less decide it; let the charter shift for itself
in Westminster-hall the government is somewhat wiser than to employ my
ignorance on such a subject. My promise to honest Nat. Lee, was the
only bribe I had, to engage me in this trouble; for which he has the
good fortune to escape Scot-free, and I am left in pawn for the
reckoning, who had the least share in the entertainment. But the
rising, it seems, should have been on the true protestant side; "for
he has tried," says ingenious Mr Hunt, "what he could do, towards
making the charter forfeitable, by some extravagancy and disorder of
the people." A wise man I had been, doubtless, for my pains, to raise
the rabble to a tumult, where I had been certainly one of the first
men whom they had limbed, or dragged to the next convenient sign-post.
But on second thought, he says, this ought not to move the citizens.
He is much in the right; for the rabble scene was written on purpose
to keep his party of them in the bounds of duty. It is the business of
factious men to stir up the populace: Sir Edmond on horseback,
attended by a swinging pope in effigy, and forty thousand true
protestants for his guard to execution, are a show more proper for
that design, than a thousand stage-plays[22].
Well, he has fortified his opinion with a reason, however, why the
people should not be moved; "because I have so maliciously and
mischievously represented the king, and the king's son; nay, and his
favourite," saith he, "the duke too; to whom I give the worst strokes
of my unlucky fancy."
This need not be answered; for it is already manifest that neither the
king, nor the king's son, are represented; neither that son he means,
nor any of the rest, God bless them all. What strokes of my unlucky
fancy I have given to his royal highness, will be seen; and it will be
seen also, who strikes him worst and most unluckily.
"The Duke of Guise," he tells us, "ought to have represented a great
prince, that had inserved to some most detestable villainy, to please
the rage or lust of a tyrant; such great courtiers have been often
sacrificed, to appease the furies of the tyrant's guilty conscience;
to expiate for his sin, and to attone the people. For a tyrant
naturally stands in fear of such wicked ministers, is obnoxious to
them, awed by them, and they drag him to greater evils, for their own
impunity, than they perpetrated for his pleasure, and their own
ambition[23]."
Sure, he said not all this for nothing. I would know of him, on what
persons he would fix the sting of this sharp satire? What two they
are, whom, to use his own words, he "so maliciously and mischievously
would represent?" For my part, I dare not understand the villainy of
his meaning; but somebody was to have been shown a tyrant, and some
other "a great prince, inserving to some detestable villainy, and to
that tyrant's rage and lust;" this great prince or courtier ought to
be sacrificed, to atone the people, and the tyrant is persuaded, for
his own interest, to give him up to public justice. I say no more, but
that he has studied the law to good purpose. He is dancing on the rope
without a metaphor; his knowledge of the law is the staff that poizes
him, and saves his neck. The party, indeed, speaks out sometimes, for
wickedness is not always so wise as to be secret, especially when it
is driven to despair. By some of their discourses, we may guess at
whom he points; but he has fenced himself in with so many evasions,
that he is safe in his sacrilege; and he, who dares to answer him, may
become obnoxious. It is true, he breaks a little out of the clouds,
within two paragraphs; for there he tells you, that "Caius Cæsar (to
give into Cæsar the things that were Cæsar's,) was in the catiline
conspiracy;" a fine insinuation this, to be sneered at by his party,
and yet not to be taken hold of by public justice. They would be glad
now, that I, or any man, should bolt out their covert treason for
them; for their loop-hole is ready, that the Cæsar, here spoken of,
was a private man. But the application of the text declares the
author's to be another Cæsar; which is so black and so infamous an
aspersion, that nothing less than the highest clemency can leave it
unpunished. I could reflect on his ignorance in this place, for
attributing these words to Cæsar, "He that is not with us, is against
us:" He seems to have mistaken them out of the New-Testament, and that
is the best defence I can make for him; for if he did it knowingly, it
was impiously done, to put our Saviour's words into Cæsar's mouth. But
his law and our gospel are two things; this gentleman's knowledge is
not of the bible, any more than his practice is according to it. He
tells you, he will give the world a taste of my atheism and impiety;
for which he quotes these following verses, in the second or third act
of the "Duke of Guise."
For conscience or heaven's fear, religious rules,
Are all state bells, to toll in pious fools.
In the first place, he is mistaken in his man, for the verses are not
mine, but Mr Lee's: I asked him concerning them, and have this
account, - that they were spoken by the devil; now, what can either
whig or devil say, more proper to their character, than that religion
is only a name, a stalking-horse, as errant a property as godliness
and property themselves are amongst their party? Yet for these two
lines, which, in the mouth that speaks them, are of no offence, he
halloos on the whole pack against me: judge, justice, surrogate, and
official are to be employed, at his suit, to direct process; and
boring through the tongue for blasphemy, is the least punishment his
charity will allow me.
I find it is happy for me, that he was not made a judge, and yet I had
as lieve have him my judge as my council, if my life were at stake. My
poor Lord Stafford was well helped up with this gentleman for his
solicitor: no doubt, he gave that unfortunate nobleman most admirable
advice towards the saving of his life; and would have rejoiced
exeedingly, to have seen him cleared[24]. I think, I have disproved
his instance of my atheism; it remains for him to justify his
religion, in putting the words of Christ into a Heathen's mouth; and
much more in his prophane allusion to the scripture, in the other
text, - "Give unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's;" which, if it be
not a profanation of the bible, for the sake of a silly witticism, let
all men, but his own party, judge. I am not malicious enough to return
him the names which he has called me; but of all sins, I thank God, I
have always abhorred atheism; and I had need be a better Christian
than Mr Hunt has shown himself, if I forgive him so infamous a
slander.
But as he has mistaken our Saviour for Julius Cæsar, so he would
Pompey too, if he were let alone; to him, and to his cause, or to the
like cause it belonged, he says, to use these words: - "he that is not
for us is against us." I find he cares not whose the expression is, so
it be not Christ's. But how comes Pompey the Great to be a whig? He
was, indeed, a defender of the ancient established Roman government;
but Cæsar was the whig who took up arms unlawfully to subvert it. Our
liberties and our religion both are safe; they are secured to us by
the laws; and those laws are executed under an established government,
by a lawful king. The Defender of our Faith is the defender of our
common freedom; to cabal, to write, to rail against this
administration are all endeavours to destroy the government; and to
oppose the succession, in any private man, is a treasonable practice
against the foundation of it. Pompey very honourably maintained the
liberty of his country, which was governed by a common-wealth: so that
there lies no parallel betwixt his cause and Mr Hunt's, except in the
bare notion of a common-wealth, as it is opposed to monarchy; and
that's the thing he would obliquely slur upon us. Yet on these
premises, he is for ordering my lord chief justice to grant out
warrants against all those who have applauded the "Duke of Guise;" as
if they committed a riot when they clapped. I suppose they paid for
their places, as well as he and his party did, who hissed. If he were
not half distracted, for not being lord chief baron, methinks he
should be lawyer enough to advise my lord chief justice better. To
clap and hiss are the privileges of a free-born subject in a
playhouse: they buy them with their money, and their hands and mouths
are their own property. It belongs to the Master of the Revels to see
that no treason or immorality be in the play; but when it is acted,
let every man like or dislike freely: not but that respect should be
used too, in the presence of the king; for by his permission the
actors are allowed: it is due to his person, as he is sacred; and to
the successors, as being next related to him: there are opportunities
enow for men to hiss, who are so disposed, in their absence; for when
the king is in sight, though but by accident, a malefactor is
reprieved from death. Yet such is the duty, and good manners of these
good subjects, that they forbore not some rudeness in his majesty's
presence; but when his Royal Highness and his court were only there,
they pushed it as far as their malice had power; and if their party
had been more numerous, the affront had been greater.
The next paragraph of our author's is a panegyric on the Duke of
Monmouth, which concerns not me, who am very far from detracting from
him. The obligations I have had to him, were those of his countenance,
his favour, his good word, and his esteem; all which I have likewise
had, in a greater measure, from his excellent duchess, the patroness
of my poor unworthy poetry. If I had not greater, the fault was never
in their want of goodness to me, but in my own backwardness to ask,
which has always, and, I believe, will ever, keep me from rising in
the world. Let this be enough, with reasonable men, to clear me from
the imputation of an ungrateful man, with which my enemies have most
unjustly taxed me. If I am a mercenary scribbler, the lords
commissioners of the treasury best know: I am sure, they have found me
no importunate solicitor; for I know myself, I deserved little, and,
therefore, have never desired much. I return that slander, with just
disdain, on my accusers: it is for men who have ill consciences to
suspect others; I am resolved to stand or fall with the cause of my
God, my king, and country; never to trouble myself for any railing
aspersions, which I have not deserved; and to leave it as a portion to
my children, - that they had a father, who durst do his duty, and was
neither covetous nor mercenary.
As little am I concerned at that imputation of my back-friends, that I
have confessed myself to be put on to write as I do. If they mean this
play in particular, that is notoriously proved against them to be
false; for the rest of my writings, my hatred of their practices and
principles was cause enough to expose them as I have done, and will do
more. I do not think as they do; for, if I did, I must think treason;
but I must in conscience write as I do, because I know, which is more
than thinking, that I write for a lawful established government,
against anarchy, innovation, and sedition: but "these lies (as prince
Harry said to Falstaff) are as gross as he that made them[25]." More I
need not say, for I am accused without witness. I fear not any of
their evidences, not even him of Salamanca; who though he has disowned
his doctorship in Spain, yet there are some allow him to have taken a
certain degree in Italy; a climate, they say, more proper for his
masculine constitution[26]. To conclude this ridiculous accusation
against me, I know but four men, in their whole party, to whom I have
spoken for above this year last past; and with them neither, but
casually and cursorily. We have been acquaintance of a long standing,
many years before this accursed plot divided men into several parties;
I dare call them to witness, whether the most I have at any time said
will amount to more than this, that "I hoped the time would come, when
these names of whig and tory would cease among us; and that we might
live together, as we had done formerly." I have, since this pamphlet,
met accidentally with two of them; and I am sure, they are so far from
being my accusers, that they have severally owned to me, that all men,
who espouse a party, must expect to be blackened by the contrary side;
that themselves knew nothing of it, nor of the authors of the
"Reflections." It remains, therefore, to be considered, whether, if I
were as much a knave as they would make me, I am fool enough to be
guilty of this charge; and whether they, who raised it, would have
made it public, if they had thought I was theirs inwardly. For it is
plain, they are glad of worse scribblers than I am, and maintain them
too, as I could prove, if I envied them their miserable subsistence. I
say no more, but let my actions speak for me: _Spectemur
agendo,_ - that is the trial.
Much less am I concerned at the noble name of Bayes; that is a brat so
like his own father, that he cannot be mistaken for any other
body[27]. They might as reasonably have called Tom Sternhold, Virgil,
and the resemblance would have held as well.
As for knave, and sycophant, and rascal, and impudent, and devil, and
old serpent, and a thousand such good morrows, I take them to be only
names of parties; and could return murderer, and cheat, and
whig-napper, and sodomite; and, in short, the goodly number of the
seven deadly sins, with all their kindred and relations, which are
names of parties too; but saints will be saints, in spite of villainy.
I believe they would pass themselves upon us for such a compound as
mithridate, or Venice-treacle; as if whiggism were an admirable
cordial in the mass, though the several ingredients are rank poisons.
But if I think either Mr Hunt a villain, or know any of my Reflectors
to be ungrateful rogues, I do not owe them so much kindness as to call
them so; for I am satisfied that to prove them either, would but
recommend them to their own party. Yet if some will needs make a merit
of their infamy, and provoke a legend of their sordid lives, I think
they must be gratified at last; and though I will not take the
scavenger's employment from him, yet I may be persuaded to point at
some men's doors, who have heaps of filth before them. But this must
be when they have a little angered me; for hitherto I am provoked no
further than to smile at them. And indeed, to look upon the whole
faction in a lump, never was a more pleasant sight than to behold
these builders of a new Babel, how ridiculously they are mixed, and
what a rare confusion there is amongst them. One part of them is
carrying stone and mortar for the building of a meeting-house; another
sort understand not that language; they are for snatching away their
work-fellows' materials to set up a bawdy-house: some of them
blaspheme, and others pray; and both, I believe, with equal godliness
at bottom: some of them are atheists, some sectaries, yet all true
protestants. Most of them love all whores, but her of Babylon. In few
words, any man may be what he will, so he be one of them. It is enough
to despise the King, to hate the Duke, and rail at the succession:
after this it is no matter how a man lives; he is a saint by
infection; he goes along with the party, has their mark upon him; his
wickedness is no more than frailty; their righteousness is imputed to
him: so that, as ignorant rogues go out doctors when a prince comes to
an university, they hope, at the last day, to take their degree in a
crowd of true protestants, and thrust unheeded into heaven[28].
It is a credit to be railed at by such men as these. The charter-man,
in the very title-page, where he hangs out the cloth of the city
before his book, gives it for his motto, _Si populus vult decipi,
decipiatur_[29]; as if he should have said, "you have a mind to be
cozened, and the devil give you good on't." If I cry a sirreverence,
and you take it for honey, make the best of your bargain. For shame,
good Christians, can you suffer such a man to starve, when you see his
design is upon your purses? He is contented to expose the ears
representative of your party on the pillory, and is in a way of doing
you more service than a worn-out witness, who can hang nobody
hereafter but himself. He tells you, "The papists clap their hands, in
the hopes they conceive of the ruin of your government:" Does not this
single syllable _your_ deserve a pension, if he can prove the
government to be yours, and that the king has nothing to do in your
republic? He continues, as if that were as sure and certain to them,
as it is to us, without doubt, that they (the papists) once fired the
city, just as certain in your own consciences. I wish the papists had
no more to answer for than that accusation. Pray let it be put to the
vote, and resolved upon the question, by your whole party, that the
North-east wind is not only ill-affected to man and beast, but is also
a tory or tantivy papist in masquerade[30]. I am satisfied, not to
have "so much art left me, as to frame any thing agreeable, or
verisimilar;" but it is plain that he has, and therefore, as I ought
in justice, I resign my laurel, and my bays too, to Mr Hunt; it is he
sets up for the poet now, and has the only art to amuse and to deceive
the people. You may see how profound his knowledge is in poetry; for
he tells you just before, "that my heroes are commonly such monsters
as Theseus and Hercules; renowned throughout all ages for
destroying[31]." Now Theseus and Hercules, you know, have been the
heroes of all poets, and have been renowned through all ages, for
destroying monsters, for succouring the distressed, and for putting to
death inhuman arbitrary tyrants. Is this your oracle? If he were to
write the acts and monuments of whig heroes, I find they should be
quite contrary to mine: Destroyers indeed, - but of a lawful
government; murderers, - but of their fellow-subjects; lovers, as
Hercules was of Hylas; with a journey at last to hell, like that of
Theseus.
But mark the wise consequences of our author. "I have not," he says,
"so much art left me to make any thing agreeable, or verisimilar,
wherewith to amuse or deceive the people." And yet, in the very next
paragraph, "my province is to corrupt the manners of the nation, and
lay waste their morals, and my endeavours are more happily applied, to
extinguish the little remainders of the virtue of the age." Now, I am
to perform all this, it seems, without making any thing verisimilar or
agreeable! Why, Pharaoh never set the Israelites such a task, to build
pyramids without brick or straw. If the fool knows it not,
verisimilitude and agreeableness are the very tools to do it; but I am
willing to disclaim them both, rather than to use them to so ill
purpose as he has done.
Yet even this their celebrated writer knows no more of stile and
English than the Northern dictator; as if dulness and clumsiness were
fatal to the name of _Tom_. It is true, he is a fool in three
languages more than the poet; for, they say, "he understands Latin,
Greek, and Hebrew," from all which, to my certain knowledge, I acquit
the other. Og may write against the king, if he pleases, so long as he
drinks for him, and his writings will never do the government so much
harm, as his drinking does it good; for true subjects will not be much
perverted by his libels; but the wine-duties rise considerably by his
claret. He has often called me an atheist in print; I would believe
more charitably of him, and that he only goes the broad way, because
the other is too narrow for him. He may see, by this, I do not delight
to meddle with his course of life, and his immoralities, though I have
a long bead-roll of them. I have hitherto contented myself with the
ridiculous part of him, which is enough, in all conscience, to employ
one man; even without the story of his late fall at the Old Devil,
where he broke no ribs, because the hardness of the stairs could reach
no bones; and, for my part, I do not wonder how he came to fall, for I
have always known him heavy: the miracle is, how he got up again. I
have heard of a sea captain as fat as he, who, to escape arrests,
would lay himself flat upon the ground, and let the bailiffs carry him
to prison, if they could. If a messenger or two, nay, we may put in
three or four, should come, he has friendly advertisement how to
escape them. But to leave him, who is not worth any further
consideration, now I have done laughing at him, - would every man knew
his own talent, and that they, who are only born for drinking, would
let both poetry and prose alone[32]!
I am weary with tracing the absurdities and mistakes of our great
lawyer, some of which indeed are wilful; as where he calls the
_Trimmers_ the more moderate sort of tories. It seems those
politicians are odious to both sides; for neither own them to be
theirs. We know them, and so does he too in his conscience, to be
secret whigs, if they are any thing; but now the designs of whiggism
are openly discovered, they tack about to save a stake; that is, they
will not be villains to their own ruin. While the government was to be
destroyed, and there was probability of compassing it, no men were so
violent as they; but since their fortunes are in hazard by the law,
and their places at court by the king's displeasure, they pull in
their horns, and talk more peaceably; in order, I suppose, to their
vehemence on the right side, if they were to be believed. For in
laying of colours, they observe a medium; black and white are too far
distant to be placed directly by one another, without some shadowings
to soften their contrarieties. It is Mariana, I think, (but am not
certain) that makes the following relation; and let the noble family
of Trimmers read their own fortune in it. "Don Pedro, king of Castile,
surnamed the Cruel, who had been restored by the valour of our Edward
the Black Prince, was finally dispossessed by Don Henry, the bastard,
and he enjoyed the kingdom quietly, till his death; which when he felt
approaching, he called his son to him, and gave him this his last
counsel. I have (said he,) gained this kingdom, which I leave you, by
the sword; for the right of inheritance was in Don Pedro; but the
favour of the people, who hated my brother for his tyranny, was to me
instead of title. You are now to be the peaceable possessor of what I
have unjustly gotten; and your subjects are composed of these three
sorts of men. One party espoused my brother's quarrel, which was the
undoubted lawful cause; those, though they were my enemies, were men
of principle and honour: Cherish them, and exalt them into places of
trust about you, for in them you may confide safely, who prized their
fidelity above their fortune. Another sort, are they who fought my
cause against Don Pedro; to those you are indeed obliged, because of
the accidental good they did me; for they intended only their private
benefit, and helped to raise me, that I might afterwards promote them:
you may continue them in their offices, if you please; but trust them
no farther than you are forced; for what they did was against their
conscience. But there is a third sort, which, during the whole wars,
were neuters; let them be crushed on all occasions, for their business
was only their own security. They had neither courage enough to engage
on my side, nor conscience enough to help their lawful sovereign:
_Therefore let them be made examples, as the worst sort of interested
men, which certainly are enemies to both, and would be profitable to
neither._"
I have only a dark remembrance of this story, and have not the Spanish
author by me, but, I think, I am not much mistaken in the main of it;
and whether true or false, the counsel given, I am sure, is such, as
ought, in common prudence, to be practised against Trimmers, whether
the lawful or unlawful cause prevail. Loyal men may justly be
displeased with this party, not for their moderation, as Mr Hunt
insinuates, but because, under that mask of seeming mildness, there
lies hidden either a deep treachery, or, at best, an interested
luke-warmness. But he runs riot into almost treasonable expressions,
as if "Trimmers were hated because they are not perfectly wicked, or
perfectly deceived; of the Catiline make, bold, and without
understanding; that can adhere to men that publicly profess murders,
and applaud the design:" by all which villainous names he
opprobriously calls his majesty's most loyal subjects; as if men must
be perfectly wicked, who endeavour to support a lawful government; or
perfectly deceived, who on no occasion dare take up arms against their
sovereign: as if acknowledging the right of succession, and resolving
to maintain it in the line, were to be in a Catiline conspiracy; and
at last, (which is ridiculous enough, after so much serious treason)
as if "to clap the Duke of Guise" were to adhere to men that publicly
profess murders, and applaud the design of the assassinating poets.
But together with his villainies, pray let his incoherences be
observed. He commends the Trimmers, (at least tacitly excuses them)
for men of some moderation; and this in opposition to the instruments
of wickedness of the Catiline make, that are resolute and forward, and
without consideration. But he forgets all this in the next twenty
lines; for there he gives them their own, and tells them roundly, _in
internecino bello, medii pro hostibus habentur._ Neutral men are
traitors, and assist by their indifferency to the destruction of the
government. The plain English of his meaning is this; while matters
are only in dispute, and in machination, he is contented they should