Fidelis Achates: OR, AN Historical Account Of the Most Remarkable Actions IN THE LATE REIGNS, AND THE Present Revolution. In Heroic Verse. LONDON, Printed for John Sprint, at the Bell in Little Britain. 1699. FIDELIS ACHATES. I Sing a Man renowned as that of Troy, Who from the Court retired himself t'enjoy; He's now retreated to his Calm Abode, And awful resteth like a Rural God; Less noisy Business now does entertain, Till Fate, and Fame, provoke him forth again, To found a Nation, or to save a Land, Sure equal Spirits equal Powers command. His great and just Endowments flashed too bright, The sickening Court was dazzled with the Light; Even Envy staggered, till fresh Furies join, And all against this mighty Man combine. The wrinkled Sanhedrim upon him frowned, And when he graced a Throne, a Prison found: Elaborate Votes imagined Faults declare, Oh! where they more than Humane, not to err! A well-framed Church he from an early Youth Meek as its Maker, and as him all Truth, With Pious Zeal espoused— No Foreign Gods transplanted he'd adore, He dashed the Pagan Idols from the Shore. He saw, and pitied, with a brave disdain, Strange Altars built from every impious Brain: In every Grove Phanatic Domes were reared, Domestic Pagods every where appeared; Polluted Off rings stained the Promised Land: Who could like him in such a Storm command? Tell me, my Muse, what angry Deity Signed such Returns for so great Piety? Is Piety imputed for a Crime? Can Passion reign in Being's so sublime? But who with Heaven this Quarrel can maintain? The Hero must be trained, and disciplined to Man. An Ancient Seat he held, a Noble Place, A Seat well worthy of so famed a Race. What Worthies sallied from that stately Pile? Friends to the Throne, and Patriots of the Isle; Substantial Souls, not Minions of the Times, They never blushed, because they knew no Crime; Succeeding Reigns were with their Counsels blest, He more complete, more finished than the rest. On pleasing Banks, by a large River's side, Where easy Waves in curled Meanders glide, With Columns graced, the House erected high, A Reverend Prospect gives the distant Eye; The Pines in artful Masts their Turrets rear, The River now a Forest does appear; Even Afric's Nile, and Indian Rivers hid Their Heads, and blush, not boasting such a Pride The Decks expanded on the winged Air All India's Odours cling and scatter far; The graceful Swans around the Vessels throng, A Bird that only tunes a Dying Song, When Age, or Wounds, compel it to retire, Flags in the Ouze, & sings, & on the Beach expires. The Glebe, by Art and Nature fertile, bore For Man, and Beast, a glad luxurious Store. Here, by a Court-prevailing Envy tossed, The Hero rests, in Contemplation lost. The Wise, the Just Achates set aside, His Potent Foes at Court their Conquest pride; Levelly new Measures into Caesar's Ear, All with a new and altered Face appear; They whisper Counsels foreign to the Throne, And slight its Interest, to secure their own. Who rightly can of Caesar's Actions sing? Or how divide the Father from the King? Oh! when in Crowds we clustered on the Strand, And stood to see the Royal Exile land, What welcome Shouts redoubled from the Shore! The Dumb acquire a Speech unknown before. The subtle Nerves Seraphic Joys declare, Their Ports were opened all to Tongue and Ear; Our willing Hands beneath his Feet we lay, And strewed our very Hearts to pave his Way; We wait the King with glorious Triumph home, And all around Huzza'd, Our Caesar's come. Our Albion's Ports no longer Chains endure, They now are opened all, the Sea secure; The friendly Crews are to each other kind, They know no Foes, but Rocks, & Sands, & Wind From late discovered Countries Shipping come, And lave along, and bear their Cargoes home: Both Indies hoist their Treasures on the Strands, And Peru courts us with its Golden Sands. Neptune had now proclaimed a general Peace, And Halcyon Murmurs calm the ruflled Seas; The People all to peaceful Thoughts incline, Each Subject easy, stretched beneath his Vine; The very Sons of Mars forget their Jars, Complain of Battles, and repent their Scars. Religion now appeared in Christian Prime, Never more Primitive, or more Divine. Daily new pompous Embassies resort, Display their Foreign Glories at the Court: And when the neighbouring Princes raised fresh Jars, To Caesar it's referred— For Caesar holds the Scales of Peace and War. What could a Prince or People more desire? Or loved or feared, whilst all the World admires. What Pen can tell what jarring Seeds arose, And urged the King and People to be Foes? Who can disclose what Springs this Engine move? If from below they're formed, or from above? They in obscure and close Recesses lie. And bid a bold Defiance to the Eye. It's possible what's Humane to define; For what proceeds from Man, is short of what's Divine. Why then let's trace these Causes to the Head; For every Cause will to another lead, Till by a strict Enquiry we descry Where our inveterate Foes relentless lie. Proud conquering Rome of old, with bold Alarms, Had forced the World a Vassal to its Arms; Its towering Eagles, in pursuit of Prey, Through vast extended Kingdoms cut their Way; Boundless its Aims, too covetous of Fame, Too awful Terrors wait the Roman Name; Even dreadful Gaul did Caesar's Grace implore, Britannia bears a Yoke unknown before. At length, beyond a common Compass grown, Th' unwieldy Bulk of Greatness tumbled down. Who can Eternal Destiny resist? It fell, beneath its ponderous Glories pressed: Complaining Nations take the quick Alarm, And, to regain their ravished Freedoms, arm: For, Liberty's the Darling of Mankind, All Nature's Choice, the Canon of the Mind. Their drooping Eagles now forbidden the Shore, Our Albion's Kings Paternal Sceptres bore, Succeeding Princes their just Rights maintain, And know no more, they scorned the Roman Chain. Thus Rome, when Heathen, baffled, disappears, Until the Christian Pontiff mounts the Chair. He'll to the Rebel-World new Arts disclose, Urge back to Rome its old revolted Foes; Once more he'll bid at Universal All, On the World's Ruins raise the Capitol. Preceding Caesar's aimed their Shafts not right, He, Eagle all, aspires a loftier Flight, They only Tribute and Obedience claimed, By him the Soul, and Body, both are damned: He'll have all Kingdoms at his reverend Beck, Let lose the Reins of Power, or curb, or check. It's true, could he this large Commission show, The willing World would to his Orders bow; Could he by dint of Text demonstrate this, Or by a clear allowed Periphrasis, He then might boast the Universe his own, And sit Despotic on a Christian Throne. But if our God, embodied, did declare No such revealed Decrees, such Statutes here, Nor gave this large Mandamus to his Chair, Which by our Learned Reformers is denied, Why does he in this Usurpation pride? Let's give the Reverend Bishop what's his Due, And yield to Albion's Caesar all we owe. Britannia long his Tyrannies did bear, A Bull was dreaded like a Roman Spear; How at a vain Indulgence we rejoice, As if it had been the Great Almighty's Voice! One Pardon all preceding Crimes control, As sure they're cancelled, as our Sins were foul. Our Treasures all were opened by his Keys, He, for our Gold, presents us Toys to please, Some useless Relics, or as empty Praise. Flocks of devouring Orders now resort Like Locusts fly about, & croak like Frogs at Court. Not even the Chambers of our Princes free: What slender Awe they pay to Majesty! We saw a Monarch ravished from the Throne, All his Regalios from his Shoulders torn, His Sceptre levelled, and his Crown laid down; Whilst impious Priests with flaming Whips appear, With Furrows gall his Back, with Taunts his Ear. In Common things our Senses must not guide, A very Demonstration is denied; For what we see, or hear, or taste, or feel, Is false, because our Senses may beguile. Thus down at Rome's proud Nod our Glories fell, Involved in Troubles unaccountable. At length the British Lion glares around, Prostrate he lay, and trembling on the Ground; High o'er his Head the awful Lash appears, Which his dissected Sides with Gashes tears: Disdain, Revenge, and noble Fury join, These all to rouse the Hero now combine: He recollected, with a Native Pride, How oft his Fortune had in Wars been tried, How many blushing Nations lost the Field, How many Countries to his Sceptre yield. Besides— He saw with pious Ken the Mask removed, How little Rome the True Religion loved; What small Regard she paid to Things Divine; A Medley all the rest, a mere Design: He saw his People plumed, supine, and tame, And found a King a mere precarious Name. With bold Resolves he from Rome's Throne retires, Majestic stalks, whilst neighbouring Kings admire. Now Rome's approaching Ruin is at hand, A just Destruction rages through the Land, Keen Justice flashes in her Arms severe, As a destroying Angel does appear. Their Temples ruined, with their Mock-divine, The Structure levelled, did entomb the Shrine: Down fell the Idol-Image at a Blow, Nor could the gilded Saint repel the Foe. What impious Nests of Wickedness were found In Cells concealed, and Cloistered under Ground! A certain Signal of a coming Fall, Too weak the Basis to support the Wall: The dark Alcoves their sullied Crimes display: What Scenes of Holy Cheats are opened to the Day! In vain each Order did their Saints implore, Like Seamen in a Storm that crave the Shore, They cannot hear, or can relieve no more. Each Idol senseless as its Native Stone, Unmoved by Prayers, relentless to their Groans, In wild Despair around they fiercely rage, And seem the Bacchanalians of the Age; With new Efforts they echo loud Alarms, And strive to save their perishing Gods by Arms. Enraged Caesar presses on his Foes, And round the Field their slaughtered Squadrons strews: And now they curse the Land, and quit the Shore, And bear those Pains they did inflict before: So Moses stretched o'er Egypt's Coasts his Wand, And straight the Frogs and Locusts left the Land. To Italy these stormy Novels come, The banished Priests bear the sad Tidings home: With what Amazement startled Rome receives The News, declining Tyrants may conceive: What Pangs, what dreadful Horrors seize the Mind, Like dismal Eddies, or tempestuous Wind. A Conclave summoned, strong Debates arose, How to retrieve, or to rebuke their Foes: They could not see with an indifferent Eye Fair Albion ravished from the Roman See; Too well they knew the Value of her Coasts, Too choice a Purchase to be cheaply lost, Too ill a Pattern this to be allowed, A Precedent not to be known abroad. This Omen threatened a worse future Fall: A Breach neglected, fatal is to all. With Bulls they threaten fearful Things to come, And give loud Cautions to prevent the Doom. Their Bulls call other Furies to their Aid, To Death resolved Britannia to invade; Each Subject free, must no Allegiance pay, He'll straight be Saint, could he his sovereign slay. In vain their Home-attempts, in vain they found No Plot succeeds, still baffl'd, they lose Ground; Their Hostile Fleets with blushing Loss retire, Nor could their Trains of Powder cherish Fire. With pain Rome sees our well-formed Church outvie In Christian Truths her vain Idolatry; Its Apostolic Luster shone too bright, Its Beams were too Celestial for her Sight. To fruitless purpose long she Arms had tried, She'll now essay the Britan's to divide; To Craft and Hellish Arts sh'as now recourse, By Wiles she'll compass where she failed by Force. But who of Albion's Offspring can relate Our Albion's Woes, and this Reverse of Fate? What Eagled Rome could not retain of old, Nor Mitred Rome could late with Force uphold, This close Projection gains; we tamely yield, And quit the plundered Glories of the Field. Those very Men who oft in Dangers tried, Had seen wild Slaughter ghastly on their Side, When Cannons thundered, & loud Deaths convey, They'd force the Pass, and thither spur their Way: These very Men to Noise and Rumour fall, Emasculate they grow, enervate all. Our Warlike Youth, who like a Bulwark stood, And Laurels cropped through many a Crimson Flood, An Hero each their daring Acts declare, Resolved and Brave, and Strangers all to Fear; This Union broke, how resty now they're grown! False to themselves, and Traitors to the Throne. Now Loyala's Sons their haughty Plumes do rear Aloft, and threaten Ruin in the Air; Like him, they're nursed in bloody Strife and Jars, Religion is their Trade, and Gloss for Wars. Our Christian Points too easy are, and tame, Too soft a Subject, too submiss a Theme; What Jesus taught, and his Apostles told, Like musty Rolls, are slighted, stolen, and old; They'll teach the World a Doctrine new and fine, A certain Standard theirs, tho' not Divine. In Swarms they put to Sea, and now appear Like Sons of Love, and peaceful Olives bear. How can Britannia this Effort resist? A God's betrayed when fawning Judas kissed. They scatter now prepared Enchantments round, As sure as Fate the silent Magic wounds; Too many easy Subjects they disclose, And list their Converts for their Country's Foes: They whisper to the People monstrous Things, And draw a dismal Landscape of a King. They first their Interest touch with loud Complaint, Th' expensive Court reduced the Land to want; What needless Sums extravagantly thrown Away, to buoy the Quarrels of the Throne; Their large, luxurious, lazy Guards devour More than old Egypt's meager Kine before; In Times of Peace why should a Prince command An Army as a Scourge to curb the Land? There's something ill designed in such a Train, A Boundless Power he aims, an Arbitrary Reign. Why should a Prince be so divinely feared? Pray why this Deity so much revered? Why should we tremble at his awful Nod? A Man is sure distinguished from a God. Come, let's engage, and first the Court reform, Cut through that Wave, you'll quickly stem the Storm. This Cant prevails, the kindled Beacons blaze, A specious Harangue spoken with a Patriots grace. But now a loftier Flight their Pinions soar, They'll claw their Conscience, as their Chests before. How can the Christians mute and stupid stand, View such Pollutions slain the Holy Land? What uncouth Gods at Court they now adore! More hideous far than late at Rome before. 've laid a Basis for a Babel's Pile, And scatter sad Confusion through the Isle. Was e'er Religion in Contempt like this? 've shot a Random-Bolt, and aimed amiss. With Grief the Land will this Devotion mourn, Already even to Rome they now return. The murmuring Tribes of Desart-Wilds complain, And covet Egypt's Onions once again; They backwards look with a relenting Eye, Once more desirous of their Slavery. Some Pious Souls in this wild Breach must stand, And stop impending Ruin from the Land; They vainly of a Reformation boast, If we reform no more, the Nation's lost; Their Hierarchy's an undigested Thing, As lose its Canons, as in Vice its King: Ah! where's its Purity, its Primitive Force? They're as before, or changed from bad to worse; They're not enough from impious Rome removed; This Zeal by you must further be improved, Or Christian Piety will soon decay, Or they'll to Antichrist become an easy Prey. You as the Stars i'th' Galaxy must shine, You the true Puritans, you all Divine. Go to, let's set our Shoulders to the Lead, Let's cultivate this Vineyard of the Lord. It's ominous, they say, when Wolves unfold Strange Mysteries, and teach the trembling Fold. What will not Interest, with mistaken Zeal, Affect, or dare? The Bait does seldom fail; This Holy Gloss fair Entertainment finds, And sows Dissenting Seeds in wavering Minds; The baneful Hemlock scatters o'er the Shore, Which still an impious Race of Fools devour; Their undiscerning Heads begin to stray, And in Confusion quit the beaten Way. Thus crafty Generals, when they'd storm a Town, And make the stubborn Citadel their own, With cunning Feints draw off the potent Foe, Divide their Arms, then give the conquering Blow. Oh foolish Albion! whither dost thou run? Eager for Fate, and hot to be undone, To thy Destruction and unguarded Tool, Cullyed to Foreign Streams thy Thirst to cool? Even Manna cloys, and such Celestial Food; Thou temptest the very Patience of a God, And into Serpents turn'st thy Moses Rod. Shoals of unthinking Fry these Anglers caught, And reap an Harvest larger than their Thought; They wave their Sickles in the burdened Field, New Barns, and new Repositories build; They join their Voices with the giddy Crowd, And 'midst the noisy Mobb they bellowed loud. This Game secured, sublimer Flights they take; Our Gentry, and our Nobles they infect: These, where a Court-Preferment is denied, Or any other Curb that checks their Pride, Disgusts to Persons, or in private Things, Turn them to Malcontents against the King; Besides, of Parties to be styled an Head, Surnamed a Champion, and their Force to lead, There's something in't that courts ambitious Eye, A Shade or Emblem it's of Majesty; Desire of Rule's the Birthright of the Mind, The Loadstone that attracts all Humane Kind. They need no more; the Rockets mount the Air High as they fly, they build their Castles there; How quick these Machines' with the Wyre-works move! They curse the King with Blasphemies to Jove: Impiety and Treason now they bawl, The Government of Church and State must fall; There's no Reprieve, the Malefactors die, Severe enough their Crimes, no Remedy; Not Gileads Balm could give Relief in this, Together both must suffer, both remiss. For Arms the pregnant Multitude prepare, Dissenting Nobles head the Beasts to War; Alike their Cause, a woeful Ruin comes; Alike they're both prepared to sign each others Dooms. And now Rome's Music rattles through the Isle, Our Albion's Blood does Albion's Fields defile; The Britan's meet each other in the Field, Make Death familiar, but untaught to yield; The fertile Plains manured with English Gore, Produce a tinctured Crop unknown before; Heroes on either Side for War they stood, And bid Definance to each others Blood. Pity such Souls resolved should thus engage: A Curse on Rome for this, and this Phanatic Rage. The Royal Party does at last retire, Makes its Retreat in Dust, and Smoke, and Fire: So, after Twelve laborious noble Toils, Th' Olympic Hero raves, and raving falls; On Oeta's Mount his fatal Hour he found, He fell, with ruin'd Oaks, and stately Trees around. But stay, my Muse, relate the blackest Scene That yet the World e'er saw, or must again; The Best of Kings, of Men ignobly slain. So the retreating Sun does disappear, And gilds with bloody Streaks the Hemisphere. The drowsy Poppy shrivelled up his Head, Drooped at the Sight, and in a Sleep fell dead: Th' astonished Herds o'er all the Plains did rove, And in disordered Terrors told their Love; The Echoes moaned and sighed in every Grove. No Laurels now would in Britannia stand, But Woods of Cypress crowd in every Hand: heavens Eye, as tho' ashamed to see the Sight, In Royal Azure mourned, and screened the Light: The Christian Hero fell their Sacrifice; What Expiatory Offering can suffice? A Train of captived Martyrs now succeed, A Loyal Guard does with their sovereign bleed: So Days bright Lord does from our Sight retire, Sinks in Abyss of Night, and all its Beams expire. Too brave, too just for Crimes, these Nobles fall, And on that barbarous Age a Blush entail. Our Prelates hurried to untimely End, Their injured Lord, and these great Minds attend, They stain with flowing Blood the guilty Stage, And, Stephen-like, forgive the impious Age. One Victim's slaughtered from the Eagles' Nest, Daring and as Heroic as the Best; Too noble Thoughts possessed his Warlike Soul, To join the Sceptre with the Brewer's Bowl: He fell bemoaned in an unhallowed Town, Like the Great Martyr he his Blood laid down. One Worthy let our Numbers recommend, True to his King, his Country, and his Friend. This Christian Soldier in the Heat of War Was both to Mars, and to Apollo dear; His Learning and his Courage did afford An equal Aid, he fought with Pen and Sword. Rome and Geneva were alike to him, The Foes were adequate, alike the Theme. Let Latham be a Witness of his Fame, And Bolton tremble at his awful Name. The surly Foe besieged a Countryhouse, A Heroine and Hero they enclose: The Walls were slender, and the Works but young; But all within was Proof, and all was strong: They sheltered all beneath his Warlike Care, The Garrison ne'er trembled at the War: The Soldiers few, yet faithful to their Head; They knew no Odds, when his great Conduct led. A noisy Mortar did loud Ruin threat, And in the Air proclaimed approaching Fate: No known Defence could guard th' impending Blow, It scattered sure Destruction all below. He sallies, and the bold Invader flies, Within the Gates he bears the ravished Prize; Succeeding actions still advance his Fame, He in Immortal Annals bears a Name. Who can distinguish what is Good or Ill, Where Law's established by a boundless Will? Observe what Consequences now attend: Preceding Ills succeeding Faults ne'er mend. As only one Absurdity allowed, You'll straight disclose a long depending Crowd. These Romish Tools now vaunt the Field their own, Their scattered Trophies are the Church & Throne; Involved in Gild, and all defiled with Gore, They teach the World strange Crimes, unlearned before: Mercy itself could not Forgiveness own, It blushed a Pardon for such Crimes unknown, Till then unknown, till those unhappy Days, When Yew and Cypress justled out the Bays. No other Means their Counsels can propose Of Safety, but the Ruin of their Foes; A thorough Extirpation is decreed, Each Individual of the Whole must bleed. This Reformation must the Land atone, Stand still, or to retreat, they're sure to be undone. What could Young Caesar in this Juncture do? No Humane Strength could match th'insulting Foe; His Loyal Friends in sad Effigy lay, The dismal Ruins of a routed Day: Some faithful Few with him to Exile fly, And wait a more propitious Destiny; They leave the Isle, and trust to Seas and Wind, To Seas than Rebels were at home more kind. From this forced Flight we date succeeding Woes, Which Time in After-ages will disclose. What dreaded Dangers these wild Zealots feared, And all the Brainsick Babel's they had reared, Distracted Notions of returning Rome, And how a boundless Sway designed their Doom, These Terrors all, by this ill Fact alone, They antedate, and make them all their own; On unborn Tribes th'impend a woeful Fate, Their Teeth are edged with Grapes their Fathers eat. Achates now was in his Bloom of Years, Had run through all the Stages of the Wars; The Valiant Youth by daring Caesar's Side In Battles oft, and Sieges, had been tried; By Land, or Sea, no Danger could subdue; Achates faithful was, to Caesar's Interest true. He left the Isle with his retreating Lord, And tried more hospitable Coasts abroad. The Genius quits the Land; a sad Presage, An Omen boding Ill unto the Age. With Joy transported, hateful Rome surveys Our Civil Broils, and blessed th' inhuman Days: Ignatius Brood was to their Master dear, Those impious, tragic Instruments of War; An Order now established and enroled, Like Comets beaming Mischief to the World: What Joys did not their Expectations yield, Rome's Granaries with Albion's Harvest filled! Already in Idea they embrace The Land, and reassume their Ancient Place; 'Twas nearer than a Possibility, They had the full Assurance in their Eye: 've now a Game of vast import to play, This Cast well managed wins a glorious Day. What subtle Machines' for this End combine! They muster all their Force, and in one Body join. With equal Joy Rome and the Rebels saw The Monarch banished, and the Sword the Law: Yet Aims these present Joys attend, Alike tho' pleased, yet opposite the End. Ajax at home claims All to be his own, Profanes with vulgar Mud the ravished Throne, Defies the Interest of a wandering Prince, Bankrupt he's lost, for ever banished thence; The Basis deep, a daring Pile he rears, The Crown's Entailed for endless rolling Years. But other Movements did Rome's Joys create, She laughs at this Mock-Pageantry of State, Another Prospect charms her roving Eye, She careless saw this mimicked Majesty, Already saw the bold Usurper down, Foresaw on Caesar's Head the rifled Crown; She eyed the Prince forlorn on Foreign Coasts, Even to himself, and to his Country lost, In Spring of Youth, and Blossom of his Years, Scarce early Down upon his Face appears; A proper Season this to be embraced, To stamp her Doctrines on his easy Breast, And raze all other Principles impressed: She viewed his Friends that round his Person stand, They're Nobles all, or Chiefs that rule the Land: This Goal she aims, and this contended Prize, This Game the Thoughts of crafty Rome employs. Her Temples now with gaudy Luster shine, And splendid Beauties deck each artful Shrine; Her graceful Paint exalted Colours show, By Titian's Pencial drawn, or Angelo; Her Altars all Imperial did appear, And Tuneful Lays invite the ravished Ear; Her Priests in Robes beyond a Tyrian Dye Their Rites perform, and awful court the Eye; All that conned please, or could allure the Sense, With utmost Pomp and Grandeur they dispense. Her next Advance is to pervert his Mind, A Medium for the Project she designed; She whispers to his Thoughts his Country's Crimes And aggravates the Mischiefs of the Times, The sad Effects of Civil Broils runs over, Draws blushing Lines with his dead Father's Gore; She represents the Hydra of the Land A monstrous Beast, untamed to all Command; That daily new blasphemous Heads appear, And all around with wild Destruction tear; Th' established Church enervate grown, and weak, A rising Faction could destroy, or break; Its Canons were not Proof against its Foes, Its Basis mean, did the whole Work expose. Could such a Fabric be from Wrongs secure? Could it tempestuous Shocks of Storms endure? When its Foundation's not on Rock, but Sand, Its Fall was sure, its Ruin now at Hand; These Troubles from the first Reformers spring, They were but Tools to an incensed King; From lawless Lust the Quarrel first began, Succeeding Interest now the War maintains. They never can a Pious Union know, Whilst Holy Church is treated as a Foe. Look round, observe our strict Conformity; All Schism we and factious Zeal defy: In distant Regions the same Faith we own, One Mother-Church, and one Religion known. The Pope is not that Brute they represent, His Call is Sacred sure, from Heaven he's sent; He does not make a King a Sceptered Slave, He ne'er destroys the Right that Nature gave; The Civil Rights he leaves in Trust with them, In Matters Sacred only he's Supreme. And this Commission was transmitted down To him from Peter, by th' Almighty's Son. Come, injured Prince, return to us once more, Our altered Sons bring back, again restore Its ancient Rule to your revolted Land, And know your Power again, and once again command. One People then in one known Faith you'll rule, And all your Rebels monstrous Gods control: A Train of Gods as numerous they adore As all the Heathen Pagods were before; Their saucy Zeal will urge the King to yield, Command his Bow to every Form they build; Or else for Arms the jangling Beasts prepare, And 'gainst the Throne proclaim confederate War. Our Treasures shall assist you in your Cause, To gain your Native Rights, the blasted Laws; Your Albion shall be famous as of old, And your Illustrious Acts in future Annals told. What cannot Words effect in youthful Minds, Where want of Power pleads, and promised Succour blinds? Rome knows how best to perfect Holiness, When e'er she finds a Monarch in distress: It is not Faith can reach St. Peter's Key, Distress directs the Prince the narrow Way; For Kings with ease ascend the Heavenly Throne, Whilst they possess and boldly keep their own. Our Caesar could have answered every Head, Could have retorted to each Plea they made: Their Doctrines were not, nor their Arts unknown, Britannia had well taught her darling Son; She scorned like Mushrom-births her Sons to breed, Confined to partial Authors as their Creed: A Latitude she gives, a Noble Field, Inform yourself, and teach the Foe to yield. Her Truths in bright Meridian Luster shine, Seek no Retreat, for Truth is all Divine: However resolved, he wisely shuns Debate, In pious Silence waits his altered Fate. Yet neither to accuse him, nor defend, These Consequences their ill Arts attend; He could not but behold with youthful Fire These luring Beams of Greatness, and admire; He does with equal Bent of Humane Kind Make strict Inquiries to inform the Mind. The Humane Soul Variety pursues, We all, Athenian-like, still ask for News: Besides the Pleasures that enveagle Sense, Their kind Deportments to an exiled Prince, His pressing Wants luxurious they supply, He could not think to ask what they'd deny: These things could not with careless eyes be viewed, They must command a common Gratitude; Thus Caesar stood not wholly lost to Rome, Yet could not Conquest boast, nor was he overcome. But young Caesario was of softer Make, Too soon, alas! th' envenomed Bait he takes, Their soothing Arts upon his Youth impose, He falls a pitied Victim to his Foes: Rome eager hugs this Darling of a Prize, He falls an easy, innocent Sacrifice. Britannia's Hopes were blasted in the Youth, Too lately learned, too soon he quits the Truth; For ever lost to her, he's all their own, And dates succeeding Troubles on the Throne. She shaked her Head at this unwelcome Day, And mourned to see the Royal Youth a Prey; Foresaw him mount, and tumble from his Throne, Foresaw new bloody Broils amongst her Sons; Beyond Prevention the Disease goes on, Nothing but Albious Blood can Abions Crimes atone. Rome with redoubled Crafts repeats her Blows, And strange Infection all around she throws: Just as Caesario fell, some Nobles fall; The same Allurements them as him enthrall: But yet, to give Achates what's his Due, He saw, unshaken, all this pompous Show; In vain their sly Temptations storm his Mind, He was for greater Ends by Fate designed; He was to give in greatest Troubles Aid, When Ruin threatened, and loud Storms invade: He on these fixed Decrees composed above Still kept his Eye, and only courted Jove. At length the Stars, propitious all, combine, And for our Albion's great deliverance join; Their Influence drops a sure approaching Fate, And to bold Ajax's Rule consigns a Date. A poisonous Gust out of a gloomy Den, Where the Sun's gilded Beams had never been; Screned all the Air in its Meridian Light, And turned the azure Day to sable Night, On rattling Wings destructive Whirlwinds roar, A Storm a Stranger to the Isle before, Bears the Usurper to the Stygian Shore. Trees all around with kind'ling Fire, In Storms he lived, in Thunder he expires, Amazed his Party stood, th'astonished Isle, In strange Convulsions staggered for a while; Untaught distraction reigns in every Face, Their Eyes with wild distorted glowings blaze. Sense could not their disordered Thoughts control, The Chaos could not be reduced to Rule; Their struggling Atoms, like Lucretius' World, For a long time into no Order whirled; At last they jumped into a giddy Form, And mount a Soul that wants a Royal turn; Ulysses from the Northern Marshes came, Fatigued his Squadrons, and unknown his Aim, He stems this Tide, and this impetuous Flood, Our hopes were answered all, the Man was good, They saw too late their Error in the choice, And call for Caesar with a general Voice. Ajax's fierce Troops that knew not how to fly, Or used to Conquest, or were taught to die, Stun'd with their guilt, their weapons could not wield, But quit their Trophies, and the boasted Field, Unanimous for Caesar all declare, Reflect with Grief on a dishonest War. Now Caesar comes on Board, the Nereids play About the Ship, and wanton in the Sea; Young Cupid's fan him with their Wings above, And with their Breezes whisper Tales of Love; Neptune conducts the Vessel to the Shore; He had confined the unruly Storms before, But sends soft Zephyr's Gales to wing his way, Curl on the Waves, and with the Streamers play. The Hero now steps on th' expecting Strand, The Hearts of all his People he commands; Their grateful Shouts fill all the ambient Air, Redouble, and produce new Thunder there: An Army ready in a brave array, Their polished Arms add lustre to the Day, They're faithful all, and fearless of a Foe, Caesar bids to March they go. Profuse our Conduits run with sparkling Wine, We almost quite exhaust the generous Vine; Eternal Healths compose an endless Ring, Perpetual Voices cry, God save the King. Caesar does now with native Glories shine, No borrowed Beams adorn the Royal Line; Beneath his Feet his prostrate Rebels bow, The Church and State in their old Channels flow, And once again their lawful Sovereign know. So when loud Storms desert the ruffled Seas, The raging Billows are again at peace, They mildly settle as the Wind's retreat, With weakened force the hardy Shores they beat, Serene the Trident Rules the pleasant Main, The Surface all is Calm, and smiles again. Could Mankind pry into the Book of Fate, And in it here and there exchange a Date, This Happiness had surely been entailed On us, and ours, or Fate itself had failed. As much of Bliss as human Souls can know, As much as Organs can receive below, Britannia now enjoys.— Tell me, my Muse, where the Miscarriage lies, Without the Codex of the distant Skies; Too obvious the Poison does appear, It scatters sad Contagion through the Air; We need not dive too deep, nor soar too high, It shows itself to each enquiring Eye. Caesar was now to manly Vigour grown, And sat unrivalled on his native Throne; But in himself his Species was confined, No Propagation of a Royal Kind, Latent they rest, as Seeds in Chaos lay, primitive Matter had produced a Day. In Close Cabals Rome does her Measures take, How to direct, and manage well this Stake. Caesar at best a wavering Faith did show, He neither was a certain Friend nor Foe; His Church was reinstated as before, But of Rome's Claims he nothing did restore; The slowness of his Steps she could not bear, The young Caesario now is all her Care; Was Caesar rightly matched, a coming Son, Would quite exclude her ripening Hopes the Throne, She then might yield the Game, her Harvest lost, Like Vessels dashed and Shipwrecked on the Coast; She every Model tries, at length does rear, A rising Fabric answering all her Care; Too strong her Faction did at Court prevail, It was beyond Achates Power to heal. The Royal Choice does on the Billows ride, And now to Caesar's Arms present the Bride: But ah! th' unhappy Soil was barren grown, Like fruitless Libya scorched by too much Sun. Caesar's Endeavours and our Hopes were vain, The ungrateful Glebe makes no returns again. No pregnant Showers could urge a smiling Bloom, No ripened Sheafs by all the Tillage come. But this defect was not on Caesar's side; 'Twas not his Fault this Blessing was denied. For other Mothers did the Nation grace, With numerous Births and worthy Caesar's Race; One pitied Son composed of too much flame, His Thoughts too Royal, too sublime his Aim, With daring Pinions soared too nigh the Sun, Singed in his Beams, he fell and was undone. For young Caesario a fit Mate was found, Ten Thousand quivered Cupid's learn to wound. Tho' Royalty did in her Birth not shine, The Father still ennobles all the Line. And now Britannia's hopes were centred here, New dawning Joys to future Times appear, How vain are all th'Efforts of human kind! How many wild Projections are designed! In Fates dark Legends how unread is Man, Lost in the Dusk, he makes essays in vain, At her own Weapons worsted Rome falls down, Which after Generations will make known. Prudent Achates with himself Debates, Wisely to play this Aftergame of State. The Royal Issue's his peculiar Care; He was of all the Romish Wiles ware, And with unerring Judgement scaped the Snare. He urged the gen'ral Council of the Land, Early to constitute a faithful Band, A Guard reformed might their young years improve And for th' established Church engage their Love; Our Learned Prelates in the Task engage, And fence these tender Blooms from Romish Rage, Nor could a Father's powerful Arts withdraw, Religion is above Paternal Awe; The Snakes thus perished by Alcmena's Boy, He in the Cradle Juno's Rage destroys, So Rome was baffled, and her Projects crossed, And all her Hopes in these fair Blossoms lost, But she's too resty to be thus o'ercome, A bolder stroke she bids a daring Doom, Antaeus' like, tho' foiled, she bounds from Earth, And with the Fall renews both strength and breath. The Jesuits in Consultation join, Dare they profane that Name with such designs! Straight to their Aid they all the Furies call, T'assist them in the Ruin of the whole; Chameleon like in every Shape they're found, Lurking in close disguise they aim to wound. Flames, Envy, Murder, in their Breasts recoil, In every Vein their furious Passions boil, Eager they carry on this grand Debate, How to secure themselves and fix a Seat. Then thus they argue— If e'er our Arts for Mother Church prevail, We must their whole united Powers assail; For if we spare a part, the stubborn Crew, Like Hydra's Heads, still as they're lop'd will grow. High as the Pyramids let's raise each Pile, On which the baneful Heretics must broil; And with these cover all Britannia's Isle, No other Clouds shall darken then the Skies, But those which from our hallowed Fires arise, This only will complete the Sacrifice. Were these the Doctrines Jesus did declare? Or recommended to th' Apostles here? Sure all he Taught was more Divine and Good, His Tenets never were defiled with Blood, His Blood sufficient for more World's than these, It did for Sin th' Almighty's Wrath appease; For lost Mankind his sacred Drops suffice, A Christians Blood to him's an Impious Sacrifice. But they defy all Laws of God and Man, A contradictory Thesis they maintain. They cast their Eyes on their most Christian Son, A Bigot he by Birth, he's all their own, He had not Will or Power to retreat, From Rome's proud Lash, 'twas not decreed by Fate; Some weak Endeavours by his Subjects tried, Were baffled all, they fell the weaker side, How can the People act without a King? Their giddy Thoughts a vast disorder bring; They found him all Imperial for their Aim, A warlike Soul he bore and courted Fame. His zeal for Mother-Church was strong and good, His Youth was ripened with his Subjects Blood. Rough Persecution through his Kingdom flies, Whoe'er's a Foe to Rome must turn or die; His wand'ring Vassals leave their cruel Home, And all around to neighbouring Countries roam, Such bloody Decalogues he does declare, More terrible than Sinai's Thunders were. Their Aims were now this Champion to espouse, Confirm him strong, to Rival all their Foes; And when their Projects had acquired an Head, And mighty Caesar numbered with the Dead, Caesario might a potent Succour find, For all the Revolutions he designed: They by their Force united might destroy, The hated, stubborn, Northern Heresy. Too easy Means they found to gain their Ends, Some Britain's false to us, to them were Friends; Their ready Tools prepared assistance bring, False to their Faith, their Country, and their King. We held a Bulwark near the briny Tide, Our Albion's Strength, her Glory, and her Pride; This Fortress curbed the Power of Gallic Kings, A certain refuge for our Canvas Wings. Here mighty Piles of British Bones you see, High as the Pyramids in Egypt be, Which our bold Soldiers for their Country lost, And joined the Continent to Albion's Coast. The Gauls could never, were this Hold our own, Insult the Ocean with their Rising-Sun: We then unrivalled might Command the Main, Old hoary Neptune and his Sea-born Train, Would court no Friend but the Royal-Sovereign. Their trembling Ports might hear our Cannon roar, Rage through the Land, and reach the frighted Louvre. This Bulwark's yielded to the aspiring Foe, For a sinal Cargo brought from Mexico. This ravished Prize from large Iberia torn, Does now the Diadem adorn. What Man could do Achates did perform, Proved all his Interest to divert the Storm. He represented to the Court the Shame, Of Injured Honour, and our tarnished Fame; How little it would look to Foreign Kings, Besides the present Mischief that it brings. What Folly 'twas to Arm, so near, a Foe, This certain, this well-managed Game to throw Away, distracted Conduct it would show. If in the Gallic Scale this Weight we lay, It would Britannia's Balance quite outweigh. The Disadvantage doubles on our side, Our Strength is weakened, and the Foe supplied. All Arguments he urged the Theme could bear, He urged in vain, for Caesar would not hear. Ah! who can dive into the Faults of Kings? But Ruin surely from such Conduct springs. Now, what returns can recompense this Day? This blooming Fortune, this auspicious Prey? Gallia as grateful for this Point appears, As those that pay a gratitude through fear, What e'er they give, th' Intentions to destroy, And send a Present with a base Alloy. Fair Julia comes, surrounded all with Charms, Ten Thousand Cupids wait her with their Arms: So Venus entertains the God of War, And all his Martial Terrors disappear; This finished piece of Beauty and of Parts, Was worthy Caesar's Joys, and Gallia's Arts. So Thracian Planets with destructive Beams, From gloomy Caves invite the Rural Swains, Whilst they admire their Aspects and Grandeur, Each Star becomes their Executioner. Rome now in Triumph bounds it o'er the Field, New ripening Joys succeeding Projects yield. Caesario is the sole ascendant grown, And points determined Measures to the Throne; To close Cabals his active Friends resort, They palm unjust Decrees upon the Court; Through all the Land their wild Chimeras fly, And court each lift'ning Ear, each eager Eye. Luxurious Vice corrupts the Fountain head, O'er all the Plains the troubled Waters spread. Nature with Largess gives abundant Store, We with voracious Lusts the Stock devour; Affront the very Blessings Heaven bestows, Press on, and Sin, and antedate our Woes. No thoughts of Native Greatness court the Mind, Altered, we're grown a strange degenerate kind, In bold Debauch contending to outvie, Whilst useful Arts and Arms neglected lie. So Vice and Ruin raged through Israel's Sons, Till Phinchas with bold Justice did atone. Achates eyed the Mischiefs of the Times, A Friend to Caesar he, a Foe to Crimes. He did not tamely with the Torrent glide, But with wise Conduct bore against the Tide. He now well read in all the Crafts of State, Essays Rome's Inundation to divert, And like a careful Pilot steady Steers; The Sails are managed with each Gale to veer; And tho' opposed by Storms, he's distant boar, He aims his Port, and urges to the Shore. He saw how Caesar was dissolved in Ease; No other but Caesario's Counsels please. The Land complete in Libertinism grown, Drew aukard Patterns from the erring Throne, That every Day our Rival's gather head, And by our own Contrivance potent made. The Gallic strength to an amazing height Of Greatness grown, despised each neighbouring State, At pleasure stooped and seized th' unequal Prey, Through many conquered Countries cut its way. The Kingdom to unruly Ferment's grown, Forms different Parties every where at home, Caesario's courted as the rising Sun; By his, all other Factions were outdone: He saw a Belgic War severely rage, Knew on what slender Grounds we did engage; Too well he knew the origine and rise, To Rome and Gaul a grateful Sacrifice. The latter plays an Ambodexter's Game, Yet seems t'espouse the Quarrel on the Main, Views our Engagements, and retreats again. Now Wars abroad, and Pestilence at home, Rage, as if Heaven itself had signed our Doom. Heaps upon heaps of putrid Corpse lay dead, In every Street a ghastly Landscape spread; Malignant Atoms in the Air abound, Invisible the Fates, they silent wound; Yet angry Vengeance does pursue us higher, Punished by Sickness first, and then by Fire. A Tawnyed Light enfsamed the kindled Air, And all the Stars in Blushes did appear; Vast Globes of rolling Flame ascend on high, You'd think the Cyclops had engaged the Sky, And from their scalding loud Aetnaean Forge, Did all their large Artillery disgorge. An Heap confused the City now appeared, Not even the Temples with their Altars spared; But once again more stately it revives, And from its Ashes Phoenix like it lives. Achates to the War procures a Date, And strives by Leagues to buttress up the State, To check the Grandeur of insulting Gaul; For this he found'st and rearsa triple Wall. Now Rome itself in Politics outdone, Curses the Day, and this strong Union mourns. Too well she knew her darling Son too weak, By force of Arms this solemn Pact to break, Nor he, nor she, nor her Caesario more, Could with dilated Pinions farther soar. This Gordian Knot, too firm and closely tied, She could not lose, nor knew she to divide. She cursed the subtle Authors of this League, The close Projectors of this dark Intrigue. Now every Head was filled with large employ, Vast were their Aims this Union to destroy: This Triple League they sludy to confound; This League cemented with so strict a Bond. Close were these Arts of Rome, and deeply laid ' If e'er Infallible in this, she's made. She to Caesario comes, and summons all Her Missionaries to a dark Cabal: Then thus began— Too well, my Pious Son, you know the Fate, That calls us hither to this grand Debate. Too well the subtle Machine's we disclose, That thwart our Ends, and our Designs oppose. Thus far our great Endeavours have been vain, To bring lost Albion to ourselves again. The Heretics out-wing us with Design, And with their impious Force Confederate join. A Triple Bulwark of the Northern Crowns, Checks all the Holy Measures we laid down. Who knows how soon Invasion may be made? Encouraged with Success they will proceed; Urge Caesar to revoke the Prize 've won, Or you, and I, and Gallia are undone. Caesario answers with a Statesman's Smile, Their Steps I will obstruct, their Arts beguile. Let Caesar's Change be my peculiar Care, I'll whisper new Instructions in his Ear: And since the Britain's rashly stem my Aim, I'll own, and will avow for Rome my flame. Through Neptune's wide Commands our Fleets shall go, And ferret our Confederate Northern Foe: And when these Powers thus twisted are destroyed, Albion can ne'er her dated Doom avoid; Through these forbidden Alps we'll cut our way, And late Posterity shall bless the Day. They rise, and to their Dividends resort, Try all prevailing Parties at the Court, Achates was essayed, too just to yield, He could not be persuaded, nor compelled, Caesario courts, Achates he denies; From hence his Indignation did arise. They're baffled, and ignobly quit the Ground, Their vain Efforts but small Impression found. Caesar unmoved would not Remonstrance hear, To Winds they argued all, and courted Air. Oh! had he but his Honour thus maintained, His Name succeeding Errors ne'er had stained; His wondrous Deeds all Pandects would rehearse, He'd challenged an Eternity in Verse. But one important Cast 've yet to play, A strong reserve remains to win the Day. A splendid Feast prepared adorns the Board, Julia to this invites her Captived Lord. Nature and Art, profusely met, combine, To manage well this last and great Design. All Delicacies brought by Land or Seas, Or Air, invite each Sense, and learn to please. They ravish clusters from the generous Vine, And press the blushing Grapes to yield their Wine. All India's Aromaticks grace the Feast; And Odours gathered from remotest East: The Minstrels with soft Music strike the Ear, Melodious Lay resound in trembling Air. Now Julia enters, all adorned with Gem, A Fabric worthy the World's Diadem. If Beauty was the Birthright of a Throne, Julia might challenge all the World her own: If Conduct be to Government a Pride, Julia had that securely on her side: Her Arts succeeded where the Statesmen failed, Where they despaired, her crafty Lures prevailed. Caesar Resolves her conquering Graces quell, For Beauty is a Charm invincible: It's only hers to think, to Ask and have: She leads the easy Monarch as her Slave. Roxana's wondrous Charms did thus conspire, To set the famed Persepolis on Fire: Thus Anthony the slighted World defies, A Martyr falls to Cleopatra's Eyes. Thus Judah's Champion in th'unequal Strife, Loses his Hair, and Strength, and Eyes, and Life. Achates found his toiled Endeavours vain, The Structure he had reared destroyed again. A thousand wild Disorders now come on, A strange confusion rattles round the Throne: Contemned abroad, and hated here at home, It threatens like an universal Doom: He saw it was in vain to stem the Flood, No Counsels could be heard for Albion's Good: The present Age he now resigns to Fate, But makes provision for a future Date. Caesario's eldest Hopes to ripeness grown, At Court like some bright Constellation shone; A dawning Star that promised Succour near To the distressed despairing Mariner. He saw Augustus as a rising Sun, Had in his East a glorious Course begun, Pursuing Honour with an eager chase, His Actions worthy his Illustrious Race: A Curb to Tyrants he, and Gallic Pride, Fortune he kept imprisoned on his side. This Match he for Augusta does propose, His Sentiments well-meaning Friends espouse. Caesar assents, and does approve the Choice, Caesario with Reluctance gives his Voice. Happy the Day that saw Augusta Bride! Nearer by Virtues both, than Birth, allied. Britannia hence foresees a dawning Morn, And Rome's, and Gauls Imperious Insults scorn. The Jesuits are here again outdone, As far as twinkling Tapers by the Sun. They clogged with Plenty, dreaded no decay, Nor feared succeeding Darkness to the Day. The full possession of their present Joy, They thought no Human Agents could destroy. But Rome impatient grown with dull delays, Like Misers still desirous of increase; Aiming at new Additions to their Store, And in the midst of Luxury craving more. Caesar is now an envied hindrance grown, He sits too long unactive on the Throne: They'd all their Ends they could expect from him: Now Life itself becomes the only Crime. Caesario ripe, and finished up for Rule; All Opposition Gallia would control. Their Tools prepared at home did ready stand, For any Revolution of the Land. Hibernia eager for a change of State, Provokes, as once of old, an hasty Fate. Achates was not silent in this Storm, Did what an active Statesman could perform. Their dark Cabals his Emissaries find, And tell him all the Mischiefs they designed. Intelligence a certain safety brings, The Guardian of an Army and a King. He cherished more regard for Caesar's Life, He could not see him fall in such a strife. Th' Infernal Consult now does open lie, The bloody Scheme exposed to every Eye; The Plot, the Machine's, and the Actors shown, The whole Contrivance open laid and known; A numerous Scroll of several Ranks expire, On Gibbets Gasp, and expiate in Fire. Some on the Scaffolds trembling Trunks extend, Disgorge their Blood, and in Convulsions end. This Storm blown over, strange Prodigies arise, A new Parhelia glitters in the Skies; This does some giddy Proselytes amaze, They stand, and glare, and kindle into blaze. To sum its numerous Votaries in our Isle, And how they're closely centred to beguile, Unworthy Verse it is, or any Muse's toil. In few, let's all their little Arts disclose, Show how to Rome they're Friends, to Albion Foes. One impious Doctrine, worse than Rome, they teach, A parity of Governors they preach. Are no Superiors the Apostles Theme? Must all Coequal be, and all Supreme? All are Inferior to th'Almighty Head, But sure Commanding Officers must Led. Th' Apostles taught us thus, this Gospel told, This Doctrine Primitive Fathers have enroled. Great Pearson clearly does demonstrate this, Till he is answered, let them acquiesce. From dark Oblivion let one Instance pass, And be beyond the power of Time to raze; Common Distempers they for Devils take, Or with confederate Tricks their Project make, What will not be effected by this Cheat! These to be thought Religious, Wise, and Great, Invoke th' Almighty to their impious show, And crowd up Hell with Imprecations too. The Lapland Saint with easy Toil can guests, When to fix Lucifer, when dispossess. Drivelling and yawning with a foul Grimace, Like Spouts conveying Rain from Carved Face, Now Prays, now Groans, now Curses, all in Cant; Outflies the Devil, to avoid the Saint: But sure such Cant would rather Daemons raise, They're Blasphemy such Offerings as these: Are these the Christian Principles they give? They teach what they themselves do disbelieve. Can Acts like these proceed from what is good? These Frogs may croak, but cannot pray in Mud. One Instance more let's Register in Verse, One more opprobrious Parallel rehearse; Their Proselytes they equally Devour, They preach 'em Heaven, but grasp at all their Store, In this unerring Maxim they agree, Insatiate as the Grave, or craving Sea, When Pains invade, and fierce Diseases meet, To hurry Mortals to a future State; When heavy Groans proclaim their Fate is near, No signs of coming Health or Life appear, Then on frail Nature eager they press on, And Cant, for Interest, in a Saintlike Tone; Their Prey by their unhallowed Prayers they seize, And fleece them in their dying Agonies. Achates had to each a like regard, And either side receives a like Reward, As others fell, so these expiring lie, And finish this last Scene of Tragedy. Like two defeated Bodies either stood, The Ferment was allayed by Letting blood; But Rome in this might an advantage boast; The Latter-Game by th' other Party lost, Diverts the Hunt, and does the Chase divide, Reverts the Cry on the Dissenters side. All that Achates could perform was vain, Caesario is with Smiles received again; He claims successive Right to Albion's Rule, Nor was there any Law that did control; No Votes Exclusive of his Claim would down, Nor would he weigh his Faith against a Crown; Too deep Impressions had his Youth received, For what he then imbibed he still believed. In vain the Doctors of our Church engage, In vain they did essay t'reform his Age; What e'er was urged on the Reformers side, Was but t'oppose the Winds or pressing Tide. And thus Affairs in Church and State appeared, When news of Caesar's sudden Fate was heard; The news like Thunder shook the astonished Land, Like Niobes we metamorphozed stand; Divided 'twixt our Love and future Fears, A wild disordered harmony appears; If Caesar had not steered a prosperous Course, The present Prospect did augment it worse; Eddies, and Rocks, and Shelves are all behind, Rough Storms arise, with thunder winged on wind, Sad Entertainments of a troubled Mind. Delays however were dangerous to be tried, The vacant Throne demands to be supplied: A stubborn People careless of a Sway, They must be checked by Law, and taught t'obey; No Titles yet disputable oppose, Nor jarring Acts as yet contracted Foes. Caesario is proclaimed, the willing Land Espouse his Claim, and yield to his Command: As much of Grace as Majesty could show, As much as Subjects ought from Kings to know, Caesario promised to th'expecting Isle, And all our Hopes depended on his Smile. Oh! had he centred in this pleasing Sphere, Not urged with rapid force his Course too far; He like the Sun retreating from his Noon, An easy and a wondrous Race had run; We than had basked in every splendid Ray, Nor had one envied Cloud obscured the Day; At his own Altars here he might have bowed, And offered Incense curling in a Cloud. Ah! why would he with Siren Notes beguile! Why was their Venom mingled with the Smile! He promised Blessings on his own accord, He might with the same ease have kept his Word; Unhappy Faith that gives this Latitude! And does an universal Bond exclude. Yet for a time on easy Waves we play, And Halcyon Gales the fleeting Bark convey; No present Storm did threaten from afar, No thickening Cloud spread o'er our Hemisphere. In his own Mode his Piety he showed, We in the Church established served our God. When straight the old Reformers of the Times, Who mend Defaults by acting greater Crimes; When whatsoe'er is Sacred is profaned, It's then a thorough Reformation named. When Civil Rights a woeful ruin bear, It's but the Harvest of Religious War: These forward Zealots of a barren Cause, These Enemies to Order and the Laws, With the Parrhelia in the West appear, Warm in his Beams and kindle into War; Press on like hasty Floods with impious Rage, The Folly and the wonder of the Age: With untaught Troops they rashly ventured on, And fought like stubborn Fools to be undone. What can be argued to excuse these Men? Who can for them a just defence maintain? Are these the Champions of Britannia's Fate? Must she from them her great Deliverance date? What could these desperate Engines thus inspire? What kindle this Enthusiastic Fire? It's plain, the Movement lies before our Eyes, Rome gives the Machine's Motion, and Supplies. If ever People would receive Advice, And Wisdom really know without disguise, Dear bought Experience sure would teach them more, Than all their dull fallacious Guides before: Albion has other Hero's for her Guard, Souls worthy Albion's Race, and vast Reward: Not puny Emmets of a Mushroom Birth, Like these mere Infects crawling out of Earth: A few revolving Suns will speak their Names, In Annals pregnant with unusual Fame. The Mock Sun vanished like a wand'ring Fire, In Blood he Set, his purpled Beams expire. The Western Fields were strewed with guilty Seed; May no prolisic Crop indulge the breed! If future Faults provoke the angry Throne, Theirs be the Gild, the Blood be all their own. What happier Scene for Rome can be displayed! The Rebels routed, and her Rival dead; Her open Foes in Battle overthrown, Could give no more disturbance to the Throne, 'Twas sure the Terror of this Rival's force, Checked in its full career the Roman Course: Or sure she thought Caesario's potent Seat, Was now above the Rage of Men and Fate, Or that the Church established ne'er would swerve, But beyond all extremes of Duty serve. With this assurance buoyed away she flies, Her towering Plumes aspire the very Skies, Sure of the Goal, she aims to grasp the Prize. Storms after Storms winged on destructive Wind, Now rage, and in no compass are confined; So Boreas blusters o'er the troubled Main, And with each Billow does a War maintain, Thunders attend him with a noisy Crowd, And pointed Light'ning flash from every Cloud. The Surges rise and press with waving Trains, But on the Rocks expend their Force in vain. Rome now a barefaced open Game does play, Her bold, defying, bloody Flag display, In earnest strives at an unbounded Sway. No huddled Projects longer are kept close, She does a large expanded Scene disclose; To compass this, she gives a certain Blow, At once all Albion's Basis to overthrow. Twelve Ermined Judges are prepared to give Away our Rights, to grace Prerogative: Free, as they are required, they all resign, And prodigally aid this black Design. In Ages past, what our Forefathers toiled With vast Efforts and Industry to build, What They with Sweat and Blood, & endless Care, Upon a strong Foundation strove to rear, The very Guardians of our Being's all, Before these Twelve Apostate Britan's fall. Unhappy Men! too forward taught in Crimes! The very Ignominy of the Times! How could they this to after Years convey? Or how engage their Sons to curse the Day? Why should they late Posterity betray? Their native Rights be ravished from their Claim, Transmit them down, a barren empty Name, Who constituted these twelve Men supreme? How came this Power to be assumed by them? Grant that they must expound the Text of Law, Whence do they thence this wild Conclusion draw? Is Exposition to repeal an Act? What Parliaments enforce, can they retract? This true, their Power is more capacious grown, Than all our General Council, and the Crown: But that's absurd, and so their Grants were vain, They give a Privilege they can't maintain, However it serves to buttress up their Cause, And gives a colour to elude the Laws. Which are dispensed withal without control, The King's the Representative o'th' whole. Through this wide Breach the Inundation flows, Which all our Mounds of safety overthrows: Nothing but boundless Power now courts the Ear, As Eastern Kings, or Persian Sophis are; A Will coercive, as established Law, Flashed through the Land, and all the Nation awes; Nor this large Doctrine must we disbelieve, This Stamp in early Youth we must receive, Sacred as is our Faith, and Canons this, We must in this entirely acquiesce: This every Bard, and every Druid told, And every Penman of the Isle enroled. But now let's cast on either side an Eye, Not biased with a Partiality. Let's see what strength of Sense does this maintain, The Tares and Chaff let's separate from the Grain; Let's hear how first they Government define; Why, it's Paternal all, and all Divine; From Adam this Despotic Claim began, To Noah down successive Titles ran, He to his Son's transmits' this General Rule, We must Obedience pay without Control. A free Assertion this, and very clear, Could it a Demonstration but appear; But if a Supposition is allowed, Then Suppositions on each Side must crowd, And Arguments as endless as at first, Both run in vain, for neither Party lost. Before the Flood imperfect Rolls are known; What Actions in those numerous Years were done, The Sacred Writ has not divulged to Man, Who can a Thesis' opposite maintain? We read of Patriarches, how the rolling Spheres Oft whirled around in many tedious Years, And found them still in Youth, no ripening Snow Adorned their Heads, nor Wrinkles graced the Brow; The very Planets wondered at the Race, They still appeared in Prime, with blooming Grace. Now scarce one Revolution they complete, But see Mankind destroyed by angry Fate: Life's but a Thought, we're now of shorter Breath, And claim an earlier Kindred with the Earth. What mention is there made of Kingly Rule? Or who e'er showed th'economy o'th' Whole? Of their long Lives a clear Account is writ, Not who were Kings, or who to them submit. Why then should this a Canon be to Man? It's but a bare Opinion they maintain. But Noah falls in a successive Line From Adam, and divulged his great Design, To raise a Fabric that could stem the Main, When Heaven destroyed the World with future Rain. This as a Prophet, not as King he told, This Title in the Sacred Writ's enroled: For Noah's Sermon did continue long, He preached a quick Repentance all along: Had he been King, they'd more Allegiance paid, They'd surely known their Orders, and obeyed. But o'er his House a Regal sway he bore; So Fathers since, and doubtless did before: But he of many others had a Care, He was to many Tribes a Royal Heir; Before the Flood he bore extended Sway, And taught a numerous People to Obey: That's but, perhaps, a Controversial Throne, For ever thus we argue Pro and Con: Why then i'th' Ark did he not more include, Out of that universal Multitude? He was regardless of his Subjects good, He let them fall unpityed in the Flood; To this they Answer— That great Command conveyed to him from Heaven, Was only by th' Almighty's Order given. This then Conducts us to another Theme, Let's ask how Ages governed after him; For if from heavens bright Throne all Orders come, And Nations wait from Jove's great date their doom, Or we are left to Reason's dictates here, Or Revelation must new Kings declare. It's plain from Noah, to famed Abraham's Race, No Calendars of Kings the History Grace; Nor are successive Monarches there expressed, It's but a mere Conjecture at the best. The Records no Paternal Titles name, Nor Crown succeeding Sons with Regal Fame; But they aver,— When Israel's Sons possessed the Promised Land, Then Kings were pointed out by God's Command. It's true, and would he please to do it now, Who then disputed Titles durst allow; But since his Wisdom Infinite denies This Gift to Man, our Reason must supply; Reason disdains relation to the Earth, For with the Soul it claims Celestial Birth; Reason's the Polestar of the World's great sway, By it the Monarch Rules, and we Obey. This then allowed, the Muse proceeds to tell The Wonders of our Days, and what befell, Our Actions be to coming Ages known; And let us vindicate what we have done. But by the buy, let's take a short survey, How the known Globe is governed at this Day, What Constitutions different Kingdoms claim, How each exerts its Power, and wins a Fame. Then Albion's Sons may with a general Voice, Consider all distinct, and take their choice: If then they'll alter what their Fathers reared, They'll bring a worse Destruction than they feared. First to the Eastern Climes let's wing our way, There take a view of Arbitrary Sway: Here Princes absolute as Heaven appear, As awful as the mighty Thunderer: Unbounded Terrors here surround the Throne, And trembling Subjects at a Beck fall down: No Law secures them but the Monarch's Will, He's only judge of what is Good or Ill, It's he dispenses Edicts through the Land, The passive People yield to each Command: No Charters there, or Property they claim, A Subject's Freedom's but an airy Name. They know no Right that they can call their own, Or to Posterity transmit it down. Their Lives, Estates, and all their numerous Race, One angry Nod destroys, or does deface; Rivers of Blood must expiation make, For every little Pique the Monarch takes: Like a Majestic Savage he bears Rule, Nor dare his trembling Herds his Will control. Can common Sense this brutal Sway maintain? For Beasts more proper sure than Godlike Man, Whose Appetites do covet such a Feast, May be at India's bloody Board's a Guest. Three Parts in Four of the whole Globe we find Such Sanguinary Laws and Statutes bind: But Christian Kingdoms other Rulers know; This is the next succeeding Point to show: To clear this Head, let's search the sacred Page, And see what Doctrines Jesus taught his Age; Let's learn the Records of th'Almighty's Son, What on this Subject he delivered down. Through all his Course he did Obedience preach To Kings, the very same th' Apostles teach; They pay submission to the Powers they find, And stamp that Law on every Christian's Mind; But what's all this to form a Kingdom by? And many bring to one Society? What's this to Human Laws and Precepts here? When Government in Embryo did appear, When Policy erected high its Throne, And taught eccentric Crowds its Power to own; Our Saviour never touched upon that Theme, But left distinctive Lands in that Supreme; He never did Augustus Right dispute, Whether by Law he's bound, or Absolute; Nor who proclaimed him Emperor at Rome, When Amorous Anthony was Overcome; Nor why he did assume a sovereign Power, Which in the Senate was comprised before: His willing Tribute he to Caesar paid, Called not in question any Act he made: The Roman Edicts thorough Canaan fly, Christ no Objection makes, but does comply. Hence every Sceptre may new Laws command, As Exigencies of the State demand; And from each present Constitution's Frame The Prince and People both may Justice claim. This granted, more Inquiries were but vain, How other Lands established Rules maintain; Let it suffice us, that we know our own, What's ours to ask, and what to pay the Throne. Now to the last decisive Head we're come, Of all alleged before the Total Sum: If Government be by the Laws confined, Which Prince and People equally do bind, Why, in the Name of Goodness, may not Crimes On either Side disturb the peaceful Times? And Violence by Justice be compelled Or to abscond, or, when it stirs, to yield? This Equal Rule brings on a glorious Day, And will illustrate all we have to say: This Revolution at this Bar be tried, And be a future Standard, and a Guide. Caesario makes the Laws of Cobweb-force, Bursts through them all in his impetuous Course, Through all the Land imperious Edicts fly, The People must implicitly comply: Not Turbant-Precepts speak with louder Strain, Nor Eastern Kings with greater Terrors reign. Whatever Oppositions did appear, Were levelled all by the Court-Pioneers; Those thoughtless Tools of a Tyrannic Power Were to have been the last it did devour; The Cyclops Kindness their Reward had been, They'd been the last in that destructive Scene. O'er the Transactions let us cast an Eye, Let's take of all the Ills a short Survey. He had no more Domestic Foes to fear, 'Twas now high time his other Aims to dare: Those very Men whose Loyalty was known A strong substantial Guardian of the Throne, Inur'd to War, all Perils they abide, And slighted Death and Danger on their Side; Whose bold Resolves would all Encounters meet, To bend their haughty Foes beneath their Feet; These very Men are eyed with half Regard, Scarce empty Praise allowed for their Reward; Their very Laurels ravished from their Brow, Which Foreigners and Romish Courtiers know. Our faithful Statesmen who the Crown had served, And never from a Prudent Conduct swerved, Britannia's Aid, and great Supporters, they Now from the altered Throne are urged away; Their Places filled by callow untaught Tools, Monstrous Effects produce, and worthy Fools. The just Expounders of the Law are laid Aside, the very Law itself betrayed. Ten thousand Bribes engage the partial Bar 'Gainst Equity to manage well the War; Things thus prepared, they press it fiercely on, And with exalted Steps their Race they run. Th'established Church is now the Object grown Of all their Hate, the Envy of the Throne; That very Church who like a Fortress stood, And stemmed the Rage of each Fanatic Flood, Whose blasted. Laurels with the Martyr fell A Sacrifice to a distracted Zeal; That Church which long with Caesar's Fortune mourned, With him it suffered, and with him returned; That very Church to whom Caesario owes The Royalties that now adorn his Brows, Who placed the King on his Imperial Seat, In spite of Storms, and each opposing Fate; Whose just Defence he promised to espouse, 'Gainst all th' Efforts and Insults of its Foes; That Church must now receive its dated Doom; It's ordered thus at Court, it's so decreed at Rome. To compass this, he courts his baffled Foes, On them redundant Favours he bestows; No Acts of Grace these Minions are denied, Darlings at Court, Caesario's Joy and Pride. How soon they'd cancelled all their guilty Score! How changed this Landscape from the Western shore! From Gaols & Gibbets freed, they spread the Land, And Places of the highest Trust command; Dissenters were the Nations Curse before, Still Romish Tools, Rome's Idols to restore; They hugged themselves, and thought this smiling Sun Dispensed its Beams to cherish them alone. Achates was from Business banished far, His goodly Beams abscond, and disappear; He, like a Star of the First Magnitude, Is shadowed by an interposing Cloud. How now the Days from Caesar's Time! To be Caesario's Friend was then a Crime; Unjustly then the Statesman was confined, Because they thought him to his Interest kind: A numerous Train of Articles they form, Their Shafts pursue him like a winged Storm; His steady Innocence of Proof was found, Invulnerable he, they could not wound. When six revolving Suns the Zodiac past, Returned, yet saw the Hero unreleast; But all his Counsels were for Albion's Good, He always firm to Honours Dictates stood. Let's leave Achates in his ancient Seat, Awaiting there a more indulgent Fate; Tho' silent there he lay, his open Ear Herd all the News, his Thoughts employed with Care. Now several Orders of their Priests appear, And in our Towns and Cities Altars rear; They crowd upon us in a numerous Throng, Traverse the Land, and bring their Gods along. They gilded well their florid Harangues over, And slily teach, It was mistake before; They held no Doctrines Impious, as we're told; Our Prelates mingled Tinsel with their Gold: But, after all, few Proselytes they win, Their Chapels crowded, but their Votaries thin. Stripes upon Stripes Caesario's Fury lays, He giveth the Word, the Subjects must obey, There's no Excuse must plead their guilty Cause, In vain they challenge, and appeal to Laws; Himself the Law does their Instruction bring, Or they must find the Terror of a King. The Muse's Seats his Mandates first invade, He'll make his chief Attack at th' Fountain's Head: Apollo's Sons unite, the Tempest stand, They truckle not to an unjust Command; Illegal Orders no Impressions made, More deference they to Oaths and Conscience paid: Their College Statutes were to them a Rule, Nor could an Arbitrary Word control. Since Thunder could not, Lightning must perform; From these brave Souls their Honours all were torn, They're wounded, tho' not vanquished by the Storm. That Count of High Commission did appear Just like a Comet blazing in the Air, That Death and Ruin all around does throw, And fills with teeming Ills the World below. But now a Masterpiece of Romish Rage And Folly comes, and startles all the Age; seven Living Martyrs from their Temples tore, In Prison thrown, unusual Fetters bore, Because Rome's Idols they could not adore: Such Contradictions they could not maintain As rendered all Religion dull and vain; They could not think that an Eternal Mind, That rules the various Fates of Humane Kind, To whom the Heaven's bow, at whose Command Man, like himself, could think, and upright stand, Formed from a wild Abyss: They could not think this mighty Deity On his own Altar could entombed lie; They could not think that Jesus died before He on the cursed Tree those Tortures bore: For when he spoke those gen'ral Words, it's plain. The senseless Bread did not the God contain. They could not think he was designed a Feast, To be devoured by an impious Priest; Or that those Viands were delivered down As the Identick Flesh of the Almighty's Son. However, the Scandal of the Bar they bear, Which makes their Innocence the more appear; Their Innocence their rigid Judges awes, They turned their Advocates, & plead their Cause. All Heads at work to bring the People over To choose such Members as would all devour; Such Men our awful Council must compose As were before prepared the Kingdom's Foes; Their Actions all Illegal fill the Land; Where they could not cajole, they did command: Had they proceeded thus their Prize to gain, The Law itself had by a Law been slain. These loud Alarms through all the Nation fly, They could no longer look with partial Eyes; Those very People who indulged the Throne, And represented well whate'er was done, Now stunned with Horror, can excuse no more, They cannot vindicate it, as before. If e'er Religion did or could invite Its Proselytes in its just Cause to fight; If ever Christians were to wear the Sword, And draw it to defend the Sacred Word, As a familiar Text seems t' intimate, To guard their Doctrines from the Pagan Hate, No shriller Cries could call us forth to Arms, Our Foes could never give more bold Alarms. We rather still on Prayers than War intent, Our Hopes were stretched even to the last extent; From humble Minds our offered Incense flies, With holy Violence we storm the Skies; With meek Addresses supplicate the King: Petitions no Redress nor Succour bring; From Rome's Cabals still further Insults come, Too sure, alas! we saw approaching Doom. So when the thickening Clouds obscure the Air, And dusky Curtains screen the Hemisphere, The Swains their conscious trembling Herds enfold, And guard them all securely in the Hold. But to conclude, and perfect the Design, In one uncommon Project they combine To give the last great Stroke to all 've done, And boldly finish what was thus begun. Now let the Muse by Reason's Dictates steer, And let the Case be stated plain and clear; Let's make a Search with an unerring Eye, View each Retreat of this deep Mystery: Ten thousand Joys the pregnant Queen proclaim, It almost bursts the Cheeks of labouring Fame; Seraphic Hymns sound loud in every Ear, And suming Incense covers all the Air. The Queen's conceived, was every Courtier's Theme; The News is still repeated, still the same. These wondrous Tidings eager they devour, Wait with impatient Zeal the future Hour. Yet this Report did Impress make In various Minds, the quick Alarm they take; With curious Ken behind the Veil they pry, This questioned Truth search out with careful Eye. This Rumour soon to great Augusta came, It flagged not long upon the Wings of Fame; It found the Princess all retired, alone, Pensive and anxious for her Albion: Too sure, alas! her Country's Ills she knew, She saw what Trains of Ruin did pursue, She oft in vain had to Caesario mourned, But no Paternal Graces were returned. Augusta did this Novel entertain Meek as became her Greatness, all Serene, To Heaven still ready to submit her Mind, To its Decrees still piously inclined; Her Prudence was not yet deficient here, She showed true Conduct in this great Affair: Two worthy Matrons, of unquestioned Fame, By her Commissioned, into Albion came; She in their just Relations would confide, And what seemed doubtful should by them be tried. The Civil Law this Justice may demand, The Right of Nations this, and every Land, This Justice for a gen'ral Good designed, Established as the Cement of Mankind: This Privilege debarred, the Birth-right's lost, Nor can the Offspring any Profit boast. Th' expected Hour is past, a gen'ral Joy Rings through the Court, and gratulates the Boy: A Prince is born, was every Courtier's Cry, And Fireworks burst, and rattle in the Sky. The King all Satisfaction did receive That Man could covet, or that Fate could give. He was above the Terror of his Foes, Nor did he fear a Storm would interpose. But now for Arms Britannia's Youth prepare, They could no longer fence impending War; Even Hope itself forbids a dawning Day, It disappeared, and vanished quite away. A woeful Medicine War, a sad Retreat; To Man it's Hazard, and the Game of Fate. Achates now appears upon the Stage, And with him brings the Nobles of the Age: Harangues were needless, and a formal Tale, Which often with unthinking Heads prevail; These Worthies knew too well their Country's State, Too conscious of its Woes, and coming Fate; Their Aims, their Thoughts were how to save the Land, And in the Breach of threatening Danger stand. Unto Augustus, now resolved, they send, T'engage him for their Champion, and their Friend: They represented plain the State of Things, What crowding Mischiefs dull Delays would bring; Their Lives & Fortunes with his Arms would join, To carry on this Great and Just Design. Besides his Honour, Int'rest did engage Him to espouse their Wrongs, and aid the Age; His Princess' Claim lay bleeding, and his own, For he was near allied to Albion's Throne; That yet no Satisfaction did appear Relating to the Birthright of an Heir; But strong Suspicions of a formed Design Did through the whole Intrigue too clearly shine. Those very Persons whom the Laws require, Or absent were, or ordered to retire; Those, not by Chance, but by Contrivance so, And these forbidden with a wrinkled Brow. Divided Passions crowd Augustus' Soul, A Filial Duty, and his Royal All; Too great his Mind to bear Caesario Hate, Yet with himself does thus expostulate: The Britain's all complain, a Lawless Son Is now entailed on injured Albion's Throne: Sure by the fixed Decrees of Civil Law I may demand to make him Legal now, Or tamely I undoubted Right resign, And by my Silence they may question mine: Our Claims disputeless by these Ties are bound; They perish all, if we destroy this Mound. The haughty Court denied the Nymphs their Claim, That from Augusta on that Errand came: Besides, I ne'er could hear the Royal Breast In Milky Streams could court the Infant's Rest; Tho' Mortals varied, Nature fixed still stood, And ne'er gave Infant, but afforded Food: As we may see the shining Galaxy In Milky Paths describes its Progeny. Sure something more than Flights of Common Fame Must break those Laws by which all Monarches claim Their Right to Crowns. Since Man and Nature both consent to join, To call me hence, I'll pass for Albion; A General Council shall decide the Cause, For, Justice is the Parent of the Laws. It's pleasant sure when into Port we come, And cast out Anchor at our Native Home; When we can bid Defiance to the Wave That challenged Life, and formed itself a Grave; When we can rest securely on the Shore, And laugh at Storms that made us pale before; When we can sit and tell of Dangers past, And lengthen out our Stories not in haste. The Grecian Bard could sing the Trojan's Doom, When Agamemnon did in Triumph come; When conquering Greeks reviewed their ancient Soil, He then could tell of Battles, and their Toil: Their Swords had cut out Subjects for his Pen, And he at large displayed the Warlike Scene, Renewed, and fought their Battles over again. So Maro could, in Great Augustus' Days, When all the World enjoyed a general Peace, He then could sing his Hero, and Alarms, And brought Aeneas to Lavinia's Arms; From burning Troy the pious Youth he brings, And seats him on the Throne of Latium's Kings. As large a Subject courts the Muse's Eye, As e'er was found in Italy, or Troy: Oh! had our English Virgil tuned his Lyre, The God of Verse would every Strain inspire: The Bard unto Apollo does belong, For Dryden, taught by him, composed a wondrous Song: Cowley and he new Conquests made in Verse; Their mighty Numbers, mighty Things rehearse: Blackmore essayed it in a lofty Strain, 'Twas he conducted Arthur to his Reign; He sang of Arthur, and his prosperous War, The Parallel is in Augustus here. Here are Ideas that inform the Mind, As Complex all as Learned Lock designed; All Images which Epicurus taught, All that can entertain and teach the Thought. Great are the Deeds as e'er were done by Men, Worthy their Labours, and a Muses Pen. No more at Plutarch's Heroes let's admire, Those Martial Souls that set the World on Fire, That carried on the Business of their Days, And wreathed their Temples with Immortal Bays: Let Greece, and Rome, and other Nations hear Our Feats of Arms, and learn new Arts of War. Achates and the Nobles did receive As full Assurance as the Prince could give; He with a Force prepared would aid the State, Join with their Arms, and leave the rest to Fate. The Statesman and the Soldier here combine By Strength and Wit to manage the Design. 'Twas sure the Common Danger did prepare Their Minds, and proved the Cement of the War: For never Project of so high Concern So many Breasts did entertain; Of all Degrees and Ranks a numerous Crowd In this important Business were employed; Yet not one Whisper did a Thought make known To raise Suspicion in the Jealous Throne: Not Gallia's Ken, renowned so much of late, That knew to pry int' all Affairs of State, That could display at her own Council-board What other Princes did project abroad; Europe's Debates all at Versails were known, There all the embryoed Thoughts of Kings were shown; So quick, so sure Intelligence did fly, You'd think each Daemon were for France a Spy. Yet this Intrigue was carried on so close, It slipped 'em, and astonished all the Foes. Augustus' busied in this great Affair, Makes vast and powerful Levies for the War; Nature his Handmaid did convey her Store From Foreign Coasts, and every distant Shore; Strong Oaks were levelled by the labouring Swain, Large Forests turned into a verdant Plain; They shape the Ribs & Planks, & Structures build, To blow the Seas, untaught to Storms to yield; Materials from remotest North they bear, And Pines to form high Masts, to mount in Air; They search the Bowels of the injured Earth, Dig deep, and give to shining Metals birth; They force a Rape upon their Mother Clay, And urge her Treasures all concealed to Day; The sturdy Oars run down in hollow Moulds, Large Engines frame, that noisy Fates unfold; Death's winged on Flame as quick as Lightning fly, And show a ghastly Ruin to the Eye; To Sulphurous Mines for centred Flame they go, And search Ingredients in vast Caves below. And now the Fleet is rigged, well trimmed, and manned, Commanders round the great Augustus stand, And their last Orders wait from him to know, For they are ready where he points to go. Let's leave him there a while, & cross the Flood, And view how our Affairs in Albion stood: These Preparations were too great to lie For ever hid, from each enquiring Eye; The Business now was to a Ripeness grown, He valued not if his Resolves were known. Soon to Caesario comes the loud Report, It altered all the Measures of the Court: So Rome's proud Monarch, that did Heaven defy, And would himself appear a Deity, When Thunder echoed in the Air above, Would hid his Head, and then confessed a Jove. The little Flatterers, that the King misled By Paths uncouth, uncommon to be trod, Those that did buoy him up with Flights unknown, Tremble, grow pale, & shiver round the Throne; The boldest He, seized with unwonted Fear, Presents a rueful Image of Despair. So weak a Fence is Gild in all Mankind, A very Sting and Poison to the Mind. Caesario now, who late so high did soar, Beyond his Predecessors all before, Who passed all Bounds of Reason, and of Law, And governed with an universal Awe, The very Engines of his Court he sends To reconcile his Subjects for his Friends; Their ancient Rights and Freedoms he'll restore, He promised Justice, as of old before; Th' Imprisoned Guides, whom late he did despise, Are called to Court again, and asked Advice: He all things promised that were thought to please, As Liberty, and Property, and Ease: When straight the welcome News salutes his Ear, No Dread of Danger now, no Ground of Fear; Augustus' Fleet was by the Storms repelled, The Winds had over his pregnant Ships prevailed; That Heaven itself his Quarrel did espouse, Had showed its signal Justice on his Foes, Their impious Vessels dashed upon the Shore, Had silenced even the Belgic Lion's Roar. Augustus wisely spreads this grateful News, Refits, and his Descent once more pursues: Mean time Caesario once again re-claims, He's still inconstant, found in that the same; His Smiles were varied to an angry Brow, And every Subject seems the Monarch's Foe: Those very Rights we now assured our own, Are all revoked, and all again's undone. But Heaven no longer would a Neuter stand, Each Wind obeys th' Almighty's great Command, He sends his awful Orders from above, The Blasts in murmuring Controversies strove; Each strove to be the first to fill the Sails, To compliment Augustus with their Gales: Those very Winds that forward smoothly bore His Fleet, confined Caesario's to the Shore; They, like a Train of Magic Castles, stood, And could not steer an Helm to stem the Flood; As if Enchantment had possessed each Keel, They could not hand a Cord to stretch a Sail. Augustus' Fleet now spooms it o'er the Sea, And safely Anchors in a welcome Bay; Now other Breezes swell his Canvas Wings, From Shouts that on the crowded Beaches ring; His Guns return Salutes with grateful Cheer, Opposing Echoes strike the sounding Air, The Warlike music's void of Death or Fear. He order on the Shore his Martial Bands, Their polished Arms reflected on the Strands; The Horses upwards hoist, did hang in Air, And like unusual Machines' they appear; Th' Artillery's landed in a dreadful Train, Offensive Arms by Land, and on the Main; The Carriages in order load the Strand, In Ranks, like a defensive Rampart, stand: Augustus draws his Forces towards the Hills, His Army all the Mounts and Valleys fills: Such Order here, such Readiness did shine, And such exact, exalted Discipline, Not Ancient Generals ever Headed Men That did more close and silent Ranks maintain; Not Caesar's Troops more ready were to die, Ne'er put off Life with more facility; Not Persia's Scourge could greater Odds engage, Nor war with more unequal Numbers wage: Carthage, and Rome's, and Grecian Captains here Seem from their Shades to rise, and breath again in Air. Achates active to his Power had been, Of British Youth he leads a valiant Train; The Nobles join him as he marched along, And now they make a large extended Throng. Britannia's Youth in shining Arms behold, As Lovely Dreadful as their Sires of old. If ever Fate could be received with ease, It sure must be from Instruments like these: If ever Beauty did appear in War, It's awful Charms are only centred here, As fierce as Mars, and as Minerva fair. Such were the Youth when Edward took the Field, And forced the stubborn Gaul submiss to yield; When on the Mount the dreadful Monarch sat, And saw his Troops dispute Britannia's Fate; When bravely he refused to aid his Son, But bid him pluck those Laurels all his own; Such were the Youth when that great Son advanced, And with an Handful routs the Power of France; Their Captived King his Triumphs did adorn, Whilst he's on Vict'rys' Wings sublimely born; Furnished our Annals with Illustrious Deeds, Which only can from British Arms proceed. Such were the Youth when Henry did prepare To teach proud Gaul new Stratagems of War; When Agincourt did register the Day, And sounding Heralds loud proclaimed his Sway. And such are now the Youth, which from a●ar Gallia beholds, and trembles at the War; These the Battalions that with grand Alarms Must rouse all Europe to confederate Arms; Must Gallia's proud luxurious Power pull down, And on Augustus' Head confirm the Crown. Let's leave them moving with slow March along, Augmented by an adventitious Throng: Our City Gates fly open to receive Their Regiments, and Entertainments give. Let's view Caesario's Court, and how Affairs Present themselves in this rough Face of Wars. Too late he faw the Error of his Cause: How weak the Monarch that abandons Laws! Too late he saw his Parasites had laid Rules for their Interest all, and his betrayed: Too late he wished his slighted Friends his own, Too late indeed, forbidden his Sight, they're gone. Pardons were now proclaimed to call them over; A Pardon's needless where no Crime's before. Caesario takes the Field, and Heads his Force, To stop the bold Augustus in his Course; His Army's numerous, were their Minds the same, Did equal Ardour kindle up their Flame. Can Britan's, Rome, and old Hibernian Foes, An adequate Affection each espouse? The Officers of highest Fame decline, Desert the War, and with Augustus join. The Royal Branches to his Arms come over; Such Conduct they, and such a Cause, abhor. Decrees unalterable are above; These Scenes can then proceed from none but Jove. Caesario saw it was in vain to strive, His wavering Forces could no Succour give; Unto what purpose was it to oppose, Or sacrifice his Troops to stronger Foes? He order all his Army to disband; They quit their Posts, & know no more Command. He's now distressed, forsaken, and alone, Looks round, and views a naked, empty Throne. Of all the Charms of Greatness now bereft, Not one of all his soothing Minions left; Those Strains of Power which late the Romans taught, Strains that employed their Tongues, and every Thought; Those Draughts of Grandeur, & that vast Renown, They all before his dazzled Eyes laid down; Like fleeting Clouds, they dissipate in Air, Forsake the Sight, are fled, and disappear. Precarious Rome, that crouched before this Sun, When he in a Meridian Solstice shone; That cherished all her Orders in his Beams, And urged his Counsels to such wild Extremes; With altered Sails another Course she steers, As fast as Seas and hasty Winds can bear; Loaded with guilty Spoils, she posts away, Just like a Vulture with a ravished Prey. The Court the Council in disorder leave, Advice they could not hear, nor any give; Confused, distracted, in Despair they run, And any Shelter seek, the Foe to shun: So when the Chariot of the Sun does rise, And scatters Darkness from the shining Skies, The Birds of Night to Coverts wing away, Confounded with the Lustre of the Day. Caesario now encompassed with Alarms, A Prisoner falls to Great Augustus' Arms; He falls a Captive, not a Victim here, More Mercy in his Conduct did appear; Mercy, to Rome a very Stranger grown, They know no Kindred, no Acquaintance own; Her Fiery Trials have excluded quite That Attribute, and urged it to a Flight. Now Muse proceed, and other Actions tell, That in this wondrous Turn of State befell; If ever Wonders were conveyed to Men, If we'll but credit what our Eyes have seen, Great as of old they were, when Aegypt's Land Provoked the Weight of an Almighty Hand; When Miracle on Miracle did crowd, And Great Jehovah spoke by Moses loud; Who can to th' Height of heavens high Conduct soar? Can feeble Man those Starry Realms explore? Our Reason cannot antedate the Doom, But we can tell of Blessings when they come. Could ever People such deliverance boast? No purple Rivers of our Blood were lost; The Land with no polluted Streams was stained, An easy, bloodless Victory we gained; Their guilty Cause could not the Test abide, They had not Heaven nor Justice on their Side. Let Rome essay to interrupt no more, For Heaven has other Vengeance yet in store; Britannia's Church is its peculiar Care, She needs not Rome's insulting Bulls to fear. Caesario's Strength disbanded all by Land, Now in the Fleet his Admiral's lose Command; The stubborn Crews would no Obedience pay, An Anchor would not weigh to put to Sea; They would not fight at Rome's imperious Call, Nor be the Instruments of Albion's Fall: Silent each Gun within the Porthole stood, They would not launch a Vessel to the Flood. In this Distress, in dead of silent Night, When twinkling Stars supplied Defect of Light, A Bark Caesario board's with secret Friends, And straight to Gallia's Coasts his Course he bends. So Persia's Monarch, when to Greece he came, And led on Millions by his powerful Name, Yet in a trifling Boat is forced away, So small a Vessel Xerxes did convey. The rising Winds his Voyage did oppose, The very Elements proclaimed his Foes; The Wether forced him back on Albion's Shore, And he becomes a Prisoner, as before. Impartial Readers let their Judgements give, And future Time's Intelligence receive; And let the Tenets of our Church be shown, Blood is an Offering to her Rules unknown: Let Rome, and let Geneva blush for shame, To raise by their Unchristian Acts a Fame. Review the Revolutions of our State, Since Normans to our Annals gave a Date, And tell me where a Captived Monarch's sound, That perished not by some untimely Wound: Too true we read their Deaths in every Shape, None e'er permitted were to make Escape. Caesario has his Freedom once again, On Board he goes, puts forth upon the Main; He flies to Gallia's Monarch for Supply, As an Asylum in Extremity. What can he from the treacherous Franks expect? They'll not for his, but their own Ends project; They'll play the Game, for their Advantage, high, And reap the fattest Spoils of Victory. At home the Nobles in Convention met, Achates first in that Great Council sat; The Common Cause obliged to choose a Chief, To give to the disordered State Relief: The Headstrong People, to Confusion bend, Would raze the Principles of Government, Or would all Reason, as of old, decry, Precipitate into an Anarchy: A future War impending on the Land, A quick Dispatch of Business did command. Hybernia all disarmed, nor Sword, nor Spear, Was with our Albion's Sons permitted there; Like Israel's Tribes, for Tillage-tools they go, And court Convenience from a dangerous Foe. That Gallia Potent was by Land and Sea, A Powerful, Active, Vig'lant Enemy; Her Force more strong, more numerous than of old, Than any former Chronicle enroled; That her New Conquests were themselves a State, Realms large enough for any Potentate; For certain she would with Caesario join, With Interests close united both combine. That Europe's Eyes did on our Counsels wait, To take their Measures all from this Debate: In short, all Contradiction overcome, A Settlement must be dispatched at home: Here lay the Difficulty of the Cause, It must be done agreeable to Laws. And now Debates upon Debates arise, One Argument another still supplies: From Government in general, they come To what's our Constitution here at home; And thence on several Topics they enlarge, And briskly round they one another charge. Who can Britannia's vacant Throne suppose? Who e'er an Interregnum did disclose? It's granted, when th' Incumbent Monarch dies, That very Minute the next Heir supplies; And thus the Chain continued Links secure, For endless Generations to endure. Again— Was ever Forfeit of the Sceptre made? Or can the Crown be by the Prince betrayed? What Judge their Sovereign's Errors can inspect? Or who presumes his Actions to direct? The People all must passively comply, And not into th' Imperial Archives pry; But if a Subject has a Power to make Inquiries, every Subject must partake; The Judges than are numerous as the Crowd, By which a Train of Nonsense is allowed. To these Achates wisely makes reply, Let's first digest how our Foundations lie; Let's search the Basis of the Pile we rear, That will demonstrate all we argue clear. 'Twou'd tedious be passed Actions to unfold, And to review the Managements of old; In several Reigns what various Turns were found, How King & People danced the wondrous Round: Th' Employment of our present Thoughts is, how We find the State, and rightly that to know; How in these Days it is transmitted down, How Subjects are engaged, and how the Crown; Few Propositions will explain the Thing, And true, and regulated Notions bring; The Legislative Power, we'll first inquire, Who't is to this Dominion does aspire: That, first disclosed, will other Heads display, And tell what it's to Govern, what Obey. Why it's allowed Three several Ranks are found, That give to Law its Reins, and fix it's bound; Not any Two of these distinct can frame An Act Coercive, or give Law a Name: But when all Three Unite with joint Consent, We're all obliged, it's Act of Parliament. Nor any of these Orders can make void What was before established and allowed. Well then, the King and People both are bound, And neither aught to pass this Sacred Mound: The King's beyond the People's Rage secure, They neither can a Yoke from each endure. This Privilege we find is thus entailed, And it won'd be Our Fault if now it failed: It's plain, What's Humane possible may err, And from this Gen'ral than we thus infer, Whoe'er's the first Transgressor of this Rule, Without a Law he lives, without Control, Till he within due Compass is compelled, And to the Laws preceding forced to yield. Since only Two Transgressor's are the All, Or Prince, or People, must be Criminal. We too too many Instances do find Of Popular Commissions in this kind, Whilst each Offender hurries on his Fate, And falls a Victim to th' incensed State. And if a Prince will beyond Compass fly, And own no Obligations to this Tie, He moves eccentric, and defies all Power, Till Fate and Fortune press his hasty Hour. This granted then— Why should we farther in Debate proceed? Important Business urges on our Speed; We must not long in this Affair sit still, But with a Prince the vacant Throne must fill. He stopped; the Nobles with consenting Voice Concur, and on Augustus fix their Choice. Britannia now exerts a splendid Scene, Augustus' King, and Fair Augusta Queen. If ever Souls of pure Angelic Flames Could actuate below an Humane Frame, They sure are centred here, and both the same. For sure those blessed, unbodyed Minds above, Are not composed of softer Seeds of Love. Their Thoughts and their Intentions were but one, No jarring Feuds clash or disturb the Throne: Their mutual Sway extended o'er the Land, The People know in Both but one Command. But when rough Wars her Hero calls to Arms, To meet, with equal Powers, his Foes Alarms At home Augusta does alone reside, And in her Conduct all secure, confide. She did the Glory of her Sex maintain, And showed a true Heroick Female Reign. What could a Kingdom more of Fate desire? Can they to greater Happiness aspire? Like Israel's Sons, from Pagan Bondage free, 've passed by Wonder through the Scarlet Sea: But sure some angry Stars disturb our Isle, And in new Jars Britannia's Race embroil; Some surly Comet hovers o'er our Shore, And strives to die the Plains again with Gore. In furious, moody Heats we now divide, Augustus some, some for Caesario's Side: In Discontents new Factions they foment, Albion of its own Woe th' established Instrument. Let's dive, my Muse, into this wild Abyss, And search where the contagious Venom lies; Doubtless the dark Retreats we may disclose, And prove the Strength of our presuming Foes: Let's backwards look with an impartial Eye, T' unfold the Volumes of this Mystery. In Times preceding these, when Winds blew high, And mounting Billows emulate the Sky, High on these Waves our Sacred Druids bore, Beyond the very Spheres of Reason soar; Upon these swelling Tides aloft they ride, The honest Layman's left without a Guide: Beyond his Sight to distant Orbs they go, And leave him groveling in strange Paths below, This surely was the Error of the Times, It cannot wholly be alleged their Crimes: It's plain, Mistakes on either Side are found; For many took it at the first Rebound, Espoused the Words, and lost the genuine Sense Of what the Learned Druids did dispense. 'Twas certain some advanced too high the Theme, Pressed it indeed to an abused Extreme; But where a wilful Error was the Fault, Regard them now as Foes not worthy thought; For by a strict Implicit Awe is meant As far as Law, is known in just Extent; Or otherwise all Order we displace, And launch into a vast unbounded Space: We must our Reason and our Sense let fly, Sink lower than a dull Democracy. If by Obedience Passive was designed Each Subject to his Sovereign's Will to bind, And from his sole Decrees to wait his Doom, Protection then by Law is overcome, Our very Fundamentals are o'erthrown, We stand like senseless Herds around the Throne. And then allow our Prince would Mahomet Adore, and Mecha make the Holy Seat; Or that he strained so far Imperial Awe, As we to Monkeys, Onions, Calves must bow, Which blind Obedience distant Nations pay, We must submit, or fall a suffering Prey. Suppose this true— Why then we're conquered, at Discretion are, Like vanquished Soldiers, Prisoners of War; The boundless Sword becomes Coercive Law, To keep submissive Slaves in servile awe. But they object,— Our Sacred Oaths to strict Observance bind, An Oath is as a Sacrament designed; And we this great Solemnity addressed Unto the King, in artless Words expressed. It's true: But unto Albion's King we swore, King as the Laws had made him so before: If in another Sense we take the Thing, We're Traitors, and erect another King; We cease as Subjects, and we break the Law; Hence many fatal Consequences draw. No more with weak Amusements let our Foes These Trifles, and their Impotence impose. Our Mustered Forces for the Field prepare, And Great Augustus' Heads them on for War; He, like an old experienced Lion, knows Each Gin, and every Covert of the Foes: They, in their Native Heat, and furious Rage, Like untaught Youth, precipitate, engage; He, like a Sun, through the whole Mass does shine, Instructs them with unerring Discipline. Distressed Hybernia calls for speedy Aid, A cruel Carnage there, and Ruine's made; The British Interest all was overcome, It fell a plundered Sacrifice to Rome. To th'utmost North Caesario's Forces gone, All but one Corner of the Isle's their own; These servile Souls, that mere Obedience knew, Assume th' Ascendant, and their Lords subdue; Like antic Mimics clad in awkerd Dress, Their Pride, and Native Ignorance confess; The spurious Offspring of the God of War, They Gibeonites, and labouring Vassals are; They not for Empire fashioned, but the Spade, Should ne'er attempt Fames Glories to invade. A speedy Succour is dispatched away, The Transport-Vessels, burdened, cross the Sea; At Anchor now within the Lough they ride, In spite of Forts, and Booms, the Tow'n supplied: A Town, which in all Ages yet to come, In Fame's large Rolls may justly challenge room. This was the last Retreat the Britan's held; The conquering Foe had urged them from the Field: What weak Efforts they had essayed before, Were but to flush the Enemy the more; Like Swarms of Bees, they cluster in a Crowd, And here th'insulting Teagues to wonder stood; Augustus' Genius sure did them inspire, And kindled in their Breasts this Martial Fire. The Army breaks up Ground before the Town, Led by a Gallic Chief, hot for Renown; The Garrison within was weak and raw, No Order they, no Discipline they know; They practise not the useful Rules of War, But, like an Headstrong Mob, unruly are; Commanders all, they act as they think fit, Scarce to a known Superior they submit. And now with Showers of Bombs the Town's oppressed, Fatigued all Day, all Night they know no rest: A rising Mount there was o'er-looked the Town, The Foe on this Advantage plants him down, And to erect their Batteries straight prepare, There fix their murdering Instruments of War. The Garrison knew how to prise this Post, If there the Foe entrenched, the Town was lost: They sally like a wild, disordered Crew, Not into Ranks, nor marshaled Order drew; Pressed forwards like an undigested Throng, And each one bids his Comrade March along. See what Despair, with Fury joined, can do! Just like a Torrent, all they overthrow: Well-ordered Files confused Numbers charge, And through their slaughtered Lines their Way enlarge; They force the Works, all Opposition beat, And urge them backwards with a base Retreat; Stretched o nthe Field the haughty Franks they leave, Their Gen'ral there acquired a Grave. The Foe by this Defeat more wary grown, Resolves by Famine to reduce the Town; They all Things for a lingering Siege prepare, And by their dull Delays prolong the War: Yet dreadful Bombs from yawning Mortars fly, And with their fiery Trains aspire the Sky, Then sinking down with a resistless Blow, In certain Ruin bury all below. It's now a meager Foe assaults the Walls, And louder than their noisy Mortars bawls; Deep dismal Hollows in the Cheeks take place, Shrunk Eyes, and trembling Jaws disguise the Face; The Features all distorted did appear, And piteous Groans impending Fate declare; Sad woeful Sights the Landscape still maintain, Mere Skeletons complete the ghastly Train: In short, imperious Want distressed them more Than all the horrid Shapes of Death before: Their Stores exhausted, yield no more their Corn; They look on one another all forlorn; Their pinched Allowance now their Wants proclaim, They knew Provision only by a Name; Base Animals their Appetites entice, On slaughtered Dogs they feed, on Rats and Mice; Those very Brutes that eat their Crumbs before, Now in their Deaths discharge their trespassed Score: The Foe, the Famine, and Distempers join, And in a mortal Triple League combine; The Bloody Flux did in their Bowels rage, And horrid Gripes a dreadful Combat wage; Life with such loss of Blood must surely fail, Soon o'er that shining Lamp it did prevail; Nor Food, nor Physic had they to give Ease, To comfort Life, and conquer the Disease: But yet to give these trusty Souls their Due, Those Ills, united thus, could not subdue; They'd hear no Proffers from the Enemy, Would rather all Extremes of Suffering try: This rescued Town presents an hopeful Scene, This Town, defended by such wondrous Men, Is the first Trophy of Augustus' Reign. Albania next provokes a quick Relief; Fierce Troops, commanded by a Warlike Chief, Like gathering Clouds that muster in the Air, Were now just bursting into open War. This Province had endured Caesario's Rage, Had felt the Sting and Lash that galled the Age; Some Minds uneasy, had disturbed the Throne, And set up strange Inventions of their own; All Laws Divine and Humane they disdain, And fashioned impious Idols of the Brain; They often suffered in th' Efforts they made, Oft has their guilty Blood Atonement paid. Pity the first Reformers here did fail; They should have better taught their early Zeal; A right Instruction then had stamped the Mind, To order all divinely had inclined; Like Albion's Church, th' Apostles Forms they'd known, And not in these digressive Byways gone: However, the People bold and martial are, Inur'd to Hardship, and the Toils of War. A Potent Aid is early sent away, To put it to th' Decision of a Day; A brisk and hot Engagement does ensue, Augustus Forces yield, the Foes pursue. Here Fortune her Inconstancy displays, She's truly Fortune by such Acts as these. However, the Leader of the Foes is slain, We lose the Field, but yet the victory gain; Headless, confused, they now disperse, and run, And quit whate'er Advantage they had won: Domestic Foes Disturbance give no more, The War's transplanted foreign from their Shore. But Troubles thicken like a waving Sea, One still pursues, as th' other leads the way; Gallia provokes us to an open War, And either Side Hostilities declare: The Sea with Fleets is covered, o'er the Land Fierce Squadrons march, and dreadfully extend; The Warriors take their Arms, long slighted, down, A pregnant Harvest courts them of Renown. The King fresh Forces to Hybernia sends, T'invade his Foes, and to relieve his Friends; A Gen'ral leads them of unquestioned Fame, In Foreign Fields he challenged long a Name; In Marches, and Campaigns in Spain, He verdant Laurels never failed to gain. Augustus knew his British Soldiers were Of Courage large, but unexpert in War; Some Veterane Troops to theirs he wisely joins, His Followers all of old, and fills their Lines. The cheerful Army leave their Native Shore, Eager the Foe through Perils to explore; Like their great Sires of old, they'll force the Tide, To overthrow Hybernia's rising Pride. The friendly Billows to the Fleet are kind, And Aeolus indulged them with a Wind; Their noisy Terrors their Approach proclaim; They, Caesar-like, but saw, and overcame. In Panic Fright their Towns and Forts they yield, And their retreating Army quits the Field. So quick their Flight, like driving Clouds they flew, It was more hard to find 'em, than subdue. Some warlike Troops were to Caesario joined, Of British Birth, but an Apostate Kind; These viewed this Flight, and burning with disdain, Rallied the scattered Men to Form again. A Plate convenient for an Army's found, By Nature strong, an advantageous Ground; With deep Entrenchments they their Front defend, In Length and large Circumference extend; Ramparts at equal Distance they prepare, And mount their Cannon ready for the War; Each Avenue into the Camp is barred, In each Desile, and Pass, there stands a Guard; Succeeding Watches all their Works surround, They're jealous of the least approaching Sound. Caesario's Army thus encamped lies, Defies the Foe, and's fearless of Surprise: Numbers of Troops unto his Camp repair, From every Quarter, armed to meet the War. Mean time, old Fabius marches slowly on, Each Motion of the Foe to him was known; His active Spies their certain News relate, And give a true Account of every State; The Strength and Numbers of their Troops he knew, And of his own he takes exact Review: For open Fight they too unequal were, Their Odds too disproportionate appear; So he resolves on a Defensive War. Within a League of them a Villa stood, And by it curls along a murmuring Flood, A Pass convenient to secure the Land Which his victorious Army did command; And near adjoining lies an useful Bay; Hither Provision's daily brought by Sea; The Transport-Vessels here at Anchor ride, Await their Orders, and the Camp supplied: He mounts of strong Artillery a Train, And rising Works that would a Storm sustain; His Engineers their numerous Hands employ, They regularly entrench and fortify; Parties piqueering round for Forage go, And often meet, and bicker with the Foe: Lodged here secure, it's now resolved to stay, Until the Foe to Quarters leads the Way. Of all the numerous Nations that await Augustus' Arms, and tempt a Martial Fate, Some Gallic Subjects by a Prince severe Forced from their Homes, receive Protection here; Listed in Forms of War, he entertains, They serve beneath his Standard this Campaign: With these distressed Reformed, some Natives come, Mashed closely all, true Votaries of Rome: These with the Foe compact a black Design, Confederate in the Treachery they join; In Dead of Night, when silent Sleep invades The drowsy Camp, and covers all with Shades, They, on the Out-guard posted, would receive Caesario's Troops, and all to Ruin give: Yet to disguise and counterfeit it close, They'd entertain them loud with Fire and Noise; Safely they might approach, no Ball was there That would a Death convey, all Smoke and Air. This Treason to the Gen'ral is disclosed, Their hated Corpse on Gibbets are exposed: This Project baffled, startled high the Foes, And all their settled Measures overthrows; However, for once they draw out on the Hills, And every little Vale their Squadrons fills; Bravado all, it only threatened War, A Martial Landscape moving from afar. But now the Muse must sing a woeful Scene, Of British Heroes that lay dead, not slain; Those Men whom open Dangers ne'er deterred, Who Death above a Vassalage preferred, They now before a Foe resistless fall, Without a Wound they find a Funeral. A Winter's Camp, the Season all severe, Clouds rise aloft, and gather in the Air, On Points of Mountains burst, and scatter wide In Deluges, and form a constant Tide; Perpetual Showers the dying Men bemoan, From every Sphere there issued forth a Groan. This Execution's wondrous from the Skies, Like Crocodiles they weep, yet with their Tears destroy. Death made sad Carnage, and a cruel Spoil; The sickening Soldiers die in Rank and File, Their putrid Corpse exposed, offend the Eye, And ghastly Heaps in Tents entombed lie: Those very Tents which late their Shelters were, Officiously become their Sepulchers; They fall in Numbers, and deform the Field; The Fields a sad inhuman Harvest yield: Death in its Slaughters no Distinction makes, The Soldier with his Officer it takes; From this Campaign they both together go, To take up Quarters in the Shades below. Provision fails, forbidden by adverse Winds; Sickness before, and Famine pressed behind; Distempers rage beyond the Power of Art, No Drugs, no Compounds can Relief impart: Here no established Methods could prevail; For what could Physic do, where Life did fail? Where no Convenience for the Sick was found, But Millions of Disasters all surround? No Order here in Obsequies was shown, Piles heaped on Piles in hollow Caves were thrown, And many a Carcase scattered here and there, Was Food for Wolves, and Birds that wing in Air. Thus Ruin reigned with Arbitrary Power, These Wars of Heaven, and not the Sword devour. Ah! who can tell the Number of his Days? The Universe th' Almighty's Nod obeys: An armed Host but slender Guard affords, When Heaven, incensed, draws its vindictive Sword. The Foe could make no Market of our Ills, The same Destruction all his Quarters fills: He first from Field removes, we next attend; And so this heavy, sad Encampment ends. Of all our Army, scarce one Third remains, Our Rolls could scarce complete Five thousand Men; With these weak Powers we all the North secure, And every hostile, bold Attack endure; Whate'er Assaults they make, are all in vain; They all the Toil, and all the Loss sustain. Unto Augustus, Fabius sends Express, Acquaints him with his Loss, and his Success, How few his little Army did compose, And how he lay obnoxious to his Foes. Recruits were sent his Army to relieve, Until Augustus did himself arrive; He'd come, attended with a Warlike Train, And in Hybernia finish a Campaign. Mean time Caesario sends to Gaul for Aid, Vast Stores prepared, and powerful Levies made: Some famed Commanders, that had won Renown In Wars, supported by the Crown, Are hither sent to manage this Affair, And Head Hybernia's Natives to the War. The Seasons come which Mars' Offspring warms, And calls the Valiant forth to shine in Arms: In verdant Fields when haughty Steeds can feed, Their Strength renewed, they're fiery to invade, And bear their Riders on with rapid speed. Two potent Armies Rival Kings lead on, One to regain, and one to keep a Throne. More glorious Scenes of War were ne'er displayed, The Sword an ampler Harvest never had: Not sounding Fame has greater Actions told, Of Captains that survived in Years of old; Not Caesar's War on large Pharsalia's Plains, Which Lucan sings in strong and lofty Strains, Exceeds the Deeds of these two Rival-Foes, Nor more Heroic Erterprises shows. One, with Revenge, and vast Ambition's Fire, His ravished Crown and Sceptre does aspire; Confederate with Gaul, espoused by Rome, By Dint of War resolves to overcome. A Train of Glories on this Side invite, And press Augustus forwards to the Fight; Religion, Laws, and wronged Britannia's Cries, Inspire the Hero on to gain the Prize: These pompous Sights the God of War beheld, And for a while stood Neuter in the Field. Caesario's Army by a River's side, Strongly entrenched, Augustus does abide: Th' Assailant hazards when he storms the Foe, Makes his Approach, and gives th'assaulting Blow. Caesario at the Head of all his Men, A short and pithy Harangue thus began: " You faithful Followers that espouse my Side, " And hitherto an adverse Fate have tried, " Your Troubles all will centre here this Day, " Pursue the Chase as Fortune leads the way: " Your Country long has been oppressed by Fate, " Redress its Wrongs, its Freedoms vindicate; " Once more a just Possession strive to take, " Remember this, for all your All's at stake. " Our ancient Forms of Worship we'll restore, " And Heresy we'll banish from the Shore: " Your Courage only can Relief afford, " Your Safety is impendent on the Sword. Th' Hybernians shout, their moving Ranks prepare To Man their Works, and meet the Shock of War. Augustus' mounted rides through all the Lines, A Martial Ardour in his Visage shines; His sparkling Eyes like darting Rays appear, Dispel whatever looks like Dread or Fear; His Troops attentive, to these Words give Ear. " Come Fellow-Soldiers in so just a Cause, " You Champions for your Country, and its Laws, " Pursue the glorious Course you have begun, " And finish what's remaining to be done: " The Steps of your Great Predecessors tread; " Danger does invite, I'll lead. " All Europe waits the Issue of this Field, " The Britan's cannot to Hybernians yield: " Behold the Foes that now in Arms appear, " They late your Vassals all, and Servants were: " Religion and your Rights provoke you on, " And victory waits with Laurels of Renown. Now Trumpets Clangors, & the Beat of Drums, All other little Noises overcome; In Intervals the Horses Neighing far Proclaim the Music of approaching War: On either Side the teeming Cannon play, And dismal Flashes unseen Deaths convey: The speaking Gaps in Squadrons tell the Fate Of slaughtered Ranks, and the sad Woe relate. Here Bodies piece-meal o'er the Field are strewed, And lie dissected in a Sea of Blood; Arms, Legs, and Thighs, confused, in Heaps are found, And with dishonest Burdens pave the Ground. Here one disbowelled gives an hideous Groan, And as he sighs, Life through the Wound is gone; There scattered Brains with Blood polluted lie, And shattered Sculls around in pieces fly. The Cries and Groans of wounded, dying Men, Mixed with the Clash, sad Harmony maintain; Whatever Tragic Fancies can suppose, Those impious Scenes this Battle does disclose. To closer Fight Augustus leads them on, His awful Sword like distant Lightning shone; He on his Courser plunges in the Flood, The Crystal Streams were soon distained with Blood; Close by his Side his valiant Warriors fall, Yet others still succeed, and fill the Wall. The Britan's no Incitements need to move, They forward all to guard their Monarch strove. In spite of Waves, and Banks, and armed Foes, He forward pressed, and plunges through the Ouze; He gains the Shore, his waving Plumes appear, And strike his Foes aghast with Pain and Fear. The Macedonian thus the Granic passed, Whilst victory parched upon his streaming Crest, Whilst flying Nations quit th'ignoble Field, And to his Arms, prevailing, Homage yield. It's now the Tug of Battle but gins, Now clashing Swords, and Peals of Volleys ring; Now Regiment with Regiment does meet, In uncouth, horrid Compliments they greet; Granado Fuses hiss, and burn in Air, Then burst, and every Piece a Ruin bears; The Sword, and every Instrument of War, Are fully gorged with Blood, and surfeit here. Augustus 'midst this dangerous Havoc stands, And with a steady Conduct all commands; He waves his Sword, and leads them to the Charge, They through their broken Files their Way enlarge; Wheree'er he sees recoiling Troops give way, He rallies them again, to stand the Day: Raised by his Courage, new Assaults they dare, And alter straight the pallid Face of War. Whilst he in Heat of Battle thus proceeds, And stuns his frighted Foes with Martial Deeds, Upon his Shoulder he receives a Wound, The flowing Blood defiles him all around; Large was the Breach the missive Engine made; His faithful Guards till then were ne'er afraid; But now they fear, to see their Prince's Blood Descend in Streams, and form a Crimson Flood. This Wound the more his Fury did excite, Fiercely he charges, and renews the Fight: Caesario saw the waning Field was lost, His staggering Troops, disordered, quit their Posts; The best, the bravest of his Men lay slain, And faintly all the rest the Fight maintain; Whilst fresh Reserves Augustus' Forces join, But his speak loud their Fears, and half decline; He sounds Retreat, and his glad Troops obey, Augustus claims the Trophies of the Day. Here had he not restrained his Conquering Power, Hibernian Brains had formed a Bog all o'er. The Plunder of the Field each Soldier shares, And Quarter's ordered to the Prisoners; The Wounded in the Hospitals they place, And Aesculapius Sons afford them Ease; They in their Art as eminent appear, As the Battalions trained in Rules of War; Balsamic Compounds in the Stores are found, To answer each Intention of a Wound. Now all the Joys that Laurelled Conquests yield, That Heroes gather in a Crimson Field, Augustus reaps from this successful Day, And darting Glories through the Camp displays; When straight he's told of an important Loss, How 'mongst the Slain was found Great Fabius, Disguised with Wounds and Blood, extended dead, With Piles of slaughtered Foes around him spread, Augustue with a Sigh his Fate bemoans, For ne'er had Soul been formed so like his own, The Pompous Rites of Funeral they prepare, Wreathe him in Laurel, and the Spoils of War. Straight to Augustus' Court Expresses came, This grateful News of Victory proclaim; The joyful Youth with Bonfires warm the Sky, And fiery Rockets mount and burst on high: These Tidings stunned the Malcontents at home, In this Defeat too clear they saw their Doom. To close Cabals they're summoned all to meet, Of new Designs, and Erterprises treat; Their hopeful Interest in Hybernia's lost, Their Projects all in that Affair were crossed: They send Dispatches straight to Gaul away, To court their Navy to dispute the Sea; If by Surprise they could our Fleet destroy, No Transports then the Army could supply, Their Rising Sun might brave it o'er the Main, And they'd retrieve all they had lost again. Mean time Augustus' Army marches on, And all our Cities the Great conqueror own, The Brave Deliv'rer's Praises celebrate, And each again possessed his Ancient Seat; Thus far his banished Subjects are restored, And own their Safeties to their Leading Lord. Caesario routed, quits Hybernia's Land, But to his Generals leaves his last Commands, To make the War defensive at their Home, Till large Supplies did to their Succour come; But if the Foe by fresh Attempts pressed on, To Man their Strong Holds, & defend each Town; That thus they might the Enemy sustain, And try once more their Fate the next Campaign. One Garrison they held, well manned, & strong, Where Shannon's Streams in Murmurs lave along; The strongest that Hybernia's Kingdom knows, And bold Resistance oft had shown the Foes; Its Works employed each skilful Engineer, All Sons of Art, expert in Rules of War. Thick Walls the City's Circuits round command, And Bastions at convenient Distance stand; Deep Trenches Pales of sharpened Wood secured, That Men on Duty seemed to be Immured; Their mounted Guns dismaying Prospects yield, And scour around the low adjoining Fields. No ancient Forts could with this Strength compare, So much they have improved the Art of War: But as in Herbs which noxious Juices fill, A Counterpoison still the Venom kills, Augustus by a Train as dreadful knows To make Approaches, and reduce his Foes. They had considered where their Weakness lay, And on what Side they were exposed a Prey; Too well the Strength of our Artill'ry's known, If we before this Garrison sat down, No Humane Power could save the sinking Town. Our Conquering Army now the Place surround, The cheerful Pioners break up the Ground; Our Battering Pieces on the March were near, With plenteous Stores, and Tools adapt for War; Security had lulled us sure asleep, We'd surely drank of Lethe's Fluid deep; Neglect there was that spoiled this great Design, One Rising Sun had brought them to our Lines; I'th' midst of Shades, when Slumbers closed each Eye, And Thought lay buried in Obscurity, Or Memory itself could not retain The Products of a wild prolific Brain, An Ambush of the Foes our Guards surprise, Fill all with Blood, Confusion, Wounds, & Noise; The Powder-Stores flash bright, and sound in Air, So near the Camp, they told aloud the War: They nail the Guns, the Carriages destroy, And all the needful Tools we should employ. This Fact accomplished, joyful, they retire, And leave whate'er's Combustible on fire. From neighbouring Garrisons we draw Supplies, The Soldiers quick erect their Batteries, The Cannon play severe to force a Breach, And Bombs from Air an hideous Language teach: Sure lisping Infants that escape the Doom, Will ne'er admire that Speech in Years to come; The Roofs of Houses levelled, stoop to Ground, The Bombs in deepest Cells and Caverns wound; Carcases set the Buildings all on Fire, The Flame and Smoke the Firmament aspire; New Lights were kindled in the ambient Air, And shone as bright as glaring Phoebus there. What could they in this Exigency do? Fatigued with Toil, no Rest their Eyelids know; Disturbed by Night, and all distressed by Day, Incessant still the Guns and Mortars play: Their frequent Sallies no Advantage gain, They lost their Youth, and dared Efforts in vain; Their last Defence depended on their Mines, The Ultimate of all their formed Designs. Augustus for a gen'ral Storm prepares, With one Assault to finish all the War; Appoints Detachments for this Enterprise, Backed with Reserves to yield their timed Supplies; The Signal to advance they only wait, To force the Town, or tempt a Noble Fate. Here all the Scenes of Horror might be seen, That can destructive Fancies entertain. If e'er Contempt of Death possessed the Mind, If that's imputed Brave in Humane Kind, The Soldiers here that Quality display, On this remarkable, unhappy Day; In Order close they enter on the Storm, And die in Ranks, e'er any Feats perform; Now to the Forts and Pallisades they come, Here either Side dispense alike their Dooms; Granades in their deep Entrenchments fly, And force from thence the wounded Enemy. These Outworks gained, a near Approach they make, The close Besieged this timed Advantage take, They fire their Mines, and Flames, like moving Spheres, Scatter Battalions up in scorching Air, Stifled in Smoke, or else consumed in Fire, Sad Choice inevitable! they expire. Some through the Breach advance within the Town, They're Prisoners made, or slain they tumble down. What Men could act, these valiant Minds perform, And to the last Extreme pursued the Storm. The thin Remains Augustus calls away, Cheers them with Praises, and augments their Pay, Draws off his Troops, and waits the next Campaign His disappointed Laurels to regain. 'Midst these Misfortunes, these confused Affairs, Out from their Ports the Navy steers: Too sure our Friendly Foes at home betray Our Weakness, and a certain List convey Of all our Fleet, our want of Stores make known. Now was the Time— We must or burn, or in th' Abyss sink down. Too true it was, we unprovided were Of Necessaries, and Supplies for War; Nor could our numbers with their Fleet compare. The Franks press fiercely forward to assail, Eager to seize the Game, and to prevail; Our Admiral saw it was in vain to fight, Loath to retire, to save his Ships by flight; Our hardy Seamen knew not to retreat, Knew not to yield to be unfortunate; They who had oft the Power withstood, And writ their Dooms in Characters of Blood; The Royal Sovereign dashed its angry Planks On foaming Waves, to be thus braved by Franks. The Signal hoist, commands our Fleet to veer Away, and to their Harbours straight to steer; Just like fierce Lions chased on Libya's Plains, Where Monarches o'er submissive Herds they reign, When Hunters, Dogs, and Toils, and Arms assail, They move Majestic, lashing with the Tail, And leave the Field, not knowing to prevail: So with Disdain th' unequal War we quit, Resign the Ocean to the Fleet. What present Loss of Fame we did sustain, Succeeding Years with Interest will regain; A future Navy will in Strength appear T' eclipse their Sun, and Mighty Thunderer. What Joy can this create to Albion's Sons, To see themselves by haughty Gauls outdone? By those who e'rst were Vassals to our Fame, We in our Arms their ravished Ensigns claim. Were they the Sons of Rome that did conspire To form our Woe, and set the Land on Fire? It was the best we could expect from them; We're on our Guard, & knew to quench the Flame. But this degenerate Brood, this viprous Race, The Stamps of all Morality deface; Divinity is made a mere Pretence To chequer their unbounded Insolence; Their Consciences they impiously debase, T' indulge their Humours, and disturb the Peace: It's certain then, that Bedlam, or the Bar, Best suited to their Constitutions are. This Year with various Turns of Fortune ends; Success and Loss successively attend: Janus reversed, now turns a youthful Face; Old Time renewed, starts forth to run his Race; The Sun, the Planets, and revolving Spheres, Begin afresh, and date a future Year; Their Influences variously inclined The Dispositions of Mankind: But Europe chief their Conjunctions warm With Martial Heat, and spur it on to arm. The awful Senate of our Nation meets, Augustus for Hibernian Conquests greets; That Senate which contending Monarches awes, That to the stubborn Universe gives Laws; Awful as once the ancient Romans were, Supreme in Peace, commanding all in War; That Senate which compels from Gaul a Dread, She blushing, silent, owns herself afraid; This Senate freely do their Treasures give, T' assert Britannia's Great Prerogative. Drums through our Towns the Young and Valiant warm, Their Courage roused, undaunted now they arm; Some to reduce Hybernia's Island sent, And others to th' Confederate Continent: Marines are listed, and detached on Board, These to the active Crews their Aids afford. And now to lead the Rising Sun a Dance, And introduce a Chorus worthy France, Strong Machines' fixed in Vessels on the Sea, Through yielding Air their dreadful Balls convey; Their Maritime Towns with Ruin we invade, And levelly them as low as Troy was laid; Their kindled Cities high in Aether blaze, And frighted Paris, and Versailes amaze: We now defy the Powers of Gaul and Rome, 'Gainst all our Foes we're fenced, but those at home. Of all the deep Projections they laid down, Chief of the numerous rest, take this for one: This true, this sure Hypothesis they laid, To quell our Arms, is to eclipse our Trade: Our Force by Land and Sea too expert grown, In Arms have all Corrivals quite outdone: Augustus yet escaped their dated Day, They'll now destroy him in Effigy. Swarms of a miscreant Generation join THE adulterate, and diminish Albion's Coin; You might distinguish here a Copper Head, With a thin Sheet of Sterling nicely spread; The Subject thus, by hoarding Heaps of Coin, Bankrupts himself, and is by 's Cash undone. The ravenous Sheers had such strange Havoc made, The Royal Charm protected not the Head, They pierced the Circle, and cut off the Beard. These, like Prometheus' Vultures, with their Art Destroyed the Whole, by preying on a Part. Yet 'midst these Troubles, massy Sums must go To Foreign Lands, to check the spreading Foe. No Art but Fire this Mischief could redress; It's ordered to run down th' infected Mass, And separate the Tin, and Led, and Brass. And now it's glowing in the Cupulo, Here floats Peru, there richer Mexico. This Turn of Treasure has their Plots out done, We now proceed to finish what's begun. Our Fleet was fitting ready for the Main, Hybernia early opens the Campaign; The Generals there have a Supreme Command; Augustus stays Britannia to defend: The Soldiers all invoke his Genius there, By that inspired, they prosecute the War; They force each Pass that did obstruct their Way, And in a well fought Battle gained the Day: The Garrisons at their Approach are quelled, And all Hybernia to Augustus yields. The Conquering Army cross the hilly Main, And into Flanders carry the Campaign, Th' injurious Franks at their own Doors to meet, And to their very Gates convey their Fate. Thus Scipio relieved his Native Rome, When Hannibal had Italy o'ercome, Transports the Face of War to Carthage Walls, Whilst afric all before his Conduct falls. Now bounding Waves our Royal Navy bear, With all the Strength and Pomp that grace's War: Neptune ne'er saw the like upon the Main; It pleased, yet did surprise the Sea-born Train; The Nymphs, and Nereids, and the Sirens come, And with ecstatick Wonder are struck dumb; Our Martial Music echoed on the Sea, And made a Warlike pleasing Harmony. The Prince well-woven Plots had laid, This Summer the great Game of France was played; By Land Augustus must by Ruffians die, He's on the Sea secure of Victory; He'd then conduct Caesario to the Throne, Or for himself claim conquered Albion. How Man projects! But Fate directs his Road, And baffles his Endeavours with a Nod. Our Men of War in proper Stations stood, And forwards lave, and spoom it o'er the Flood; The frisking Winds veer oft, and change the Gale; Our cheerful Seamen know to hand each Sail: The Soldiers, all in Heart, all Things prepare, Or for Offensive, or Defensive War. Upon the Top-mast-head aloft they spy, If Fortune offered yet an Enemy: And now they see the Fleet draw near, With cheerful Shouts they rend the very Air; No Muse their eager Strains of Joy can tell, Their Raptures all were inexpressible; Revenge with Courage join, and brave Disdain, Now to retrieve their tarnished Fame again. The other, haughty with Success, bear down, Insultingly conclude the Day their own. Our Gunners all in readiness prepare, Th' encumbered Decks, and every Gun they clear; Their Cabins and their Hammocks levelly laid, They no Repose expected now in Bed. Here Stores of missive Shot and Cartridge lie, The Guns of large and smaller Size supply; Red Waste-clothes every Ship encompass round, To screen the Men and Boys, and save a Wound; The Bloody Flag and Pendent they display, And Drums and Trumpets make a noisy Day. The Franks dismiss their murdering Balls from far, And at a distance prosecute the War; But our bold Britan's other Orders know, To th' Windward urge, and near approach the Foe; They slight their pelting Shot, and strive to gain So close, as not t' expend one Ball in vain. And now their fiery Sides each other meet, In Flame and Smoke alternately they greet; Betwixt their Decks we rake them through and through, Our Cross-bar Shots burst in, and all destroy; The wrested Splinters with wild Ruin rake, Wheree'er they touch vast hideous Wounds they make; Limbless their Bodies on the Decks are thrown, Or in the very midst asunder torn. The Ships with gushing Blood run over, And the green Sea's disguised with Crimson Gore; Here scattered Brains and Members lie around, And gasping Corpse deformed with many a Wound Old hoary Neptune shook his Oozy Head, And with his frighted Nymphs aghast, he fled, Dived to the bottom of the tinctured Main, And there secured himself and all his Train. This Bloody Carnage neither Side dismayed; Each Broadside by another is repaid: They tack about, and pour in large Replies, Loud as tumultuous Thunder in the Skies; Their Smallshot thick as falling Hail does fly, Now Board to Board contending Squadrons ply; Each grapples close, and lash themselves secure, And all Extremes of Service now endure: Burning Granades thrown scour all the Decks, Men fall, and hear each others rueful Shricks; With reeking Swords upon the Deck they come, And, sure of Conquest, meet untimely Doom; The Powder-Chests by fatal Trains take Fire, Blown up, they mount in Air, and there expire. Their Body's scorched, in horrid Showers descend, Hiss in the cooler Waves, and gasp their End; Others to shun the Flames, espouse the Sea, Float there a while, then sink, and lose the Day. Here by a thousand Wounds some Ships you'll see Bored through, let in whole Deluges of Sea, Sinking with Weight, to Neptune's Courts they go, And fathom Eddies in th' Abyss below. Here kindled Fireships, like Vulcano's, ride, Dispense their curling Flames, resistless, wide; Hissing they roll upon the heated Flood, And scatter an infectious Neighbourhood. Their Vessels burn in Lines, and from afar Appear like Beacons that proclaim a War; Here blazed their Second, and their Rising Sun Finds equal Fate with daring Phaeton; Their Hulls in Flames disclose a dismal Sea, Where shattered Wrecks, and floating Bodies lay. A numerous List of Ships their Navy lost; Some few escape with Tidings to their Coasts; Disabled some, they float, and make no Way, 've not a Prow, nor Helm, nor Shroud to play; Their Masts all levelled on the Decks fall down, And they must choose their Fate, to burn, or drown. Not longer able to sustain the Fight, They fly, and we pursue them by their Light; Ruin and Death we to their Shores convey, The Fame we lost before, we win this Day; Teach the presumptuous gaul's our Rule to know, And force them to Britannia's Power to bow. If Humane Joys could claim a larger Date, Not be precarious to the Frowns of Fate, Mortality would then aspire too high, Twoved Rival even our Kindred in the Sky: If Royalty and Greatness could deter Misfortunes from a bold Approach too near; Princes above a common Level grown, Might always sit serene, and fill the Throne. But Man's obnoxious all to Good and Ill, Fortune and Death alike disturb and kill; A sad Decree on Fame's ill Wings did fly, Now must the Fair, the Great Augusta die. Too true, too sure the heavy Tidings prove, Her Royal Soul leaves Earth, and soars above: Too near Perfection her Great Mind was grown, Refined from Dross, disdained a Pressure down; It mounted, like Aethereal Matter, high, To visit, and inhabit in the Sky. Augustus almost had with Grief expired, Yea, for a while his mighty Soul retired, And on the wing with hers was half ways gone, So everlasting was the Union: Fate interposed, and urged it down below, To finish its Illustrious Stages through. Who rightly can this Public Loss disclose, Too vast for Verse, and too sublime for Prose? Yet Burnet's Pen her wondrous Virtues told, In his immortal Lines her deathless Fame's enroled. 'Twas sure to punish murmuring Albion's Land, Albion that's cloyed with Manna that descends, That Heaven this Star from our Horizon calls, And leaves no Copy of th' Original; Or that she was a Masterpiece Divine, And Nature must fall short, or end the Line. Augustus still his Warlike Race pursues, In Foreign Fields seeks out, and meets his Foes; No Plots Domestic could his Life invade, Th' Assassins all, and their Designs betrayed. Gallia at length fatigued, does Peace implore, And to the World its ravished Spoils restores Augustus rides in Triumph o'er the Main, And sees Britannia blessed with Peace again. FINIS. Books printed for and sold by J. Sprint, at the Bell in Little Britain. SYnopsis Medicinae: Or, A Compendium of the Theory and Practice of Physic. In Seven Books. Containing, I. The Elements or Principles of the Art. II. The Cure of Infant's Diseases. III. The Cure of Diseases in the Head. IU. The Cure of Diseases in the Breast. V The Cure of Diseases in the Belly. VI The Cure of Diseases Universal. VII. The Cure of all sorts of Fevers. Showing the Names, Signs, Causes, Differences, Prognostics, and various Intentions of Curing all kinds of Diseases from Head to Foot, happening to Humane Bodies. Galenically and Chemically performed. The like never published before in any Language whatsoever. The Fourth Edition. Wherein, besides the Addition of nearly the whole First Book, there are several Hundreds of other Additions, Alterations, and Amendments, throughout the whole Work. By William Salmon, Professor of Physic. The Trades-man's Calling. Being a Discourse concerning the Nature, Necessity, Choice, etc. of a Calling in general: And, Directions for the right managing of the Trades-men's Calling in particular. By Richard Steel, M. A. and Minister of the Gospel. The Second Edition. De Quatuor Summis Imperiis. An Historical Account of the Four Chief Monarchies or Empires of the World: Viz. I. The Assyrian, or Babylonian. II. The Persian. III. The Grecian. iv The Roman, continued down to the Beginning of the Reign of the Emperor Charles the Fifth. Being a Relation of the most considerable Occurrences that have happened in the World from Noah's Flood to the Year of our Lord J. C. 1520. Written in Latin by John Sleidan, sometime Ambassador in England from the Protestant States of Germany, Deputy for the City of Strasburgh in the Council of Trent, and Author of The History of the Reformation of Religion in Germany. Now newly Englished: With his Life. Innocent Diversion for the Ladies, Gentlewomen, and Maidens, Being a Looking-glass for the Fair Sex; wherein, by a curious Book of Fortune, they may find out Answers to their most doubtful Questions which can be proposed. With a large Interpretation of Dreams and Visions, incident to the Fair Sex. Translated from the French. The Pious Man's Directions: Showing how to walk with God all his Days. By a Wellwisher of the Whole Duty of Man. The Third Edition. An Explicatory Catechism: Or, An Explanation of the Assemblies Shorter Catechism. Wherein all the Answers in the Assemblies Catechism are taken abroad in Under-Questions and Answers, the Truths explained, and proved by Reason and Scripture; several Cases of Conscience resolved; some chief Controversies in Religion stated, with Arguments against divers Errors: Useful to be read in Private Families, after Examination in the Catechism itself; for the more clear and thorough understanding of what is therein learned. By Thomas Vincent, sometimes Minister of Maudlin Milk-street in London. A Treatise concerning the Lord's Supper: With Three Dialogues for the more full Information of the Weak, in the Nature and Use of this Sacrament. By Tho. Doolittle. The Nineteenth Edition. Time, and the End of Time: In Two Discourses. The First about Redemption of Time: The Second about Consideration of our Latter End. By John Fox. A Spark from the Altar: Or, A Sure Guide to Communicants, before, at, and after Receiving the Lord's Supper. Consisting of Meditations, Hymns, and Prayers for every Day in the Week. To which is added, Directions for Holy Living and Dying. With a Pathetic Discourse on Death, Judgement, Heaven, and Hell. Cookery Refined: Or, The Lady, Gentlewoman, and Servant-Maids useful Companion. I. Containing the curious Arts of Dressing all sorts of Flesh, Fish, and Fowl, various Ways, after the newest Mode; with their proper Seasoning, Sauces, Garnishes, Serving up, and Carving. II. The Experienced Pastry Cook, in all Particulars. To which is added, The Art of Pickling Fruits, Buds, Herbs, Flowers, Roots, Stalks, etc. By Mrs. A. M. a long Practiser in this Curious Art. Art's Masterpiece: Or, A Companion for the Ingenious of either Sex. Containing, I. The Art of Limning and Painting in Oil, etc. in all Particulars, viz. Drawing and Painting Faces, Bodies, Garments, Landscape, Preparing and Laying on Colours; also Colouring Mezzotinto Prints, Gild on Wood, Metals, and Leather. II. The newest Experiment in Japanning, to imitate the Indian Way, Plain and in Speckles, Rock-work, Figures, etc. Receipts for making the several sorts of Varnishes, Colours, etc. III. To make Artificial Tortoise-shell; to Die or Slain Ivory, Horn, Stone, Bristles, Feathers, and sundry sorts of Woods for Cabinets. iv The Mystery of Dying Silks, Stuffs, Woollen and Linen Cloth. V To take Spots, Stains, Pitch, Tar, and Iron-Molds, out of Silks, Stuffs, Linen, and Woollen, and to recover Faded Silks, Linen, etc. VI The Art of Perfuming and Beautifying. VII. Divers Physical and Chirurgical Receipts. VIII. To make London Powder-Ink, other Powder-Inks, and the shining Japan-Ink. With many other notable Things. By C. K. The Experienced Fowler: Or, The Gentleman, Citizen, and Country-man's pleasant and profitable Recreation. Containing, I. The true Art of Taking Water and Land-Fowl, with divers kinds of Nets, Lime-Twigs, Lime-Bushes, and how to make the best Bird Lime. II. Directions for Batfowling, Lowbelling, Tramelling, and Driving Fowl; how to find their Haunts, and take them with Springs, Snares, etc. III. An exact Method for using the Fowling-piece at a true Level, to shoot at the Water, Ground, Bush, or Flying. IU. How to make Shot, proportion the Charge, and know good Powder; with the proper Use of the Stalking-Horse, Bush, Hedge, and how to manage them. V Of Singing-Birds, their Diseases and Cure. VI. How to distinguish all sorts of Poulterer's Ware, etc. VII. To which is added, Directions for destroying all manner of Vermine. The true Art of Angling, etc.