CLITO: A POEM ON THE Force of Eloquence. Neque enim ulla non propria Oratoris est Res, quae quidem ornate dici graviterque debeat. Hujus est in dando Consilio de maximis rebus cum dignitate explicata Sententia; ejusdem & languentis populi Incitatio, & effraenati Moderatio. Eadem facultate & Fraus hominum ad perniciem, & Integritas ad salutem vocatur. Quis cohortari ad Virtutem ardentius, quis a Vitiis acrius revocare, quis vituperare Improbos asperius, quis laudare Bonos ornatius, quis Cupiditatem vehementius frangere accusando potest? quis Moerorem levare mitius consolando? Cic. de Oratore, lib. 2. cap. 9 LONDON, Printed, and are to be sold by the Booksellers of London and Westminster. M.DCC PREFACE. THE following Poem, whereof Mr. TOLAND is the Author, was handed about a good while in Manuscript before I could get a sight of it; though, by reason of the differing Characters and judgements it underwent, I left no stone unturned to procure it. And I must confess that after a Friend had at last obliged me with it, I could discover none of those monstrous, pernicious, most terrible, and intolerable things which some weak-sighted or envious people reported. But there's something so new and singular in the management of it that highly pleased me; and I verily believe that one or two of my acquaintance were frighted, not so much at the Contents, as at the Writer's poetical Liberty in his ranting and ALMANZOR-like strain, as if they thought he would in good earnest buckle on his Armour, or fasten Wings to his shoulders, and go about to perform in person what he would gladly leave others the honour of achieving at his persuasion, contenting himself with such a moderate part of the Action as might probably fall to one man's share. But taking my leave of these Gentlemen, I think myself bound rather to offer my excuses to him for making this publication without his consent. I know Poetry is not his Business, how much soever it may be his Diversion; and that particularly this Scheme of his Studies was never intended to be communicated to the World. I am wholly ignorant what induced him first to write it, or why he did it in Verse, which is a Talon on which he was never heard to value himself beyond a Song or such slight performances. But this I learned, that having given Copies of it to a few private Friends, and these (as it commonly happens) to their Friends, it came at last into the hands of more persons than were friendly, honest, or judicious, as I need not tell those who heard the strange representations that were made of it; though I cannot see how it should be displeasing to any, but such as are angry at bottom that Liberty and Religion are preferred to Slavery and Superstition. At lest there's nothing of it inconsistent with our own established Government and Church, of both which we may without vanity affirm that they are the most excellent of their kinds: no National Religion being less interested, or more rational; and no other Commonwealth being now so free, or having so good a Foundation and Disposition to attain all the perfections of Government. Therefore, after I had fully assured myself that the Poem was of his composition, I knew no better way of doing him the office of a true Friend, than by letting every body see how little ground there was for the Complaints of his peevish Accusers. By CLITO is meant a certain eminent Man, who is no more supposed to have held this Discourse, or to be of all these Opinions, than the principal persons in PLATO's or CICERO's Dialogues to have said whatever we read of 'em there, though introduced for the dignity of the Subject, and as a mark of the Author's esteem. Mr. TOLAND himself is understood by ADEISIDAEMON, which signifies Unsuperstitious, and is a Name these same Lines demonstrate to be very proper. Whether VICTORINA be only a Fiction, or the designation of a real Mistress, good manners will not let us too curiously inquire: but be this as it will, such a Character was absolutely necessary to assuage that Divinity, which (as the Poets speak) inspired him with so much fury before. All the rest is plain enough, and consequently there needs no longer Preface to so short a Book. W. H. CLITO. CLITO the Wise, the Generous, and Good, Better than whom none ever understood Or Things or Words, would yet distinctly know How far the Force of Eloquence could go To teach Mankind those Truths which they mistake, And who the noble Task durst undertake. To him ADEISIDAEMON thus replies: O thou, whose Age my younger Years supplies With Virtue's Precepts, and my Contry's Love, What Laws below, or Powers there be above, Made bold by thy Example, and the Fame Of ancient Heroes (whose immortal Name Might serve alone all Errors to reform) I shall the welcome Labour thus perform. IN common Words I vulgar things will tell, And in Discourse not finely speak, but well. My Phrase shall clear, short, unaffected be, And all my Speech shall like my Thoughts be free; Not grave enough to fright the Young away, Nor yet for elder Company too gay. BUT when the Crowd I'm chosen to persuade By long Orations for the purpose made; Or by what reaches more with more success, The laboured Compositions of the Press: Then shall my fertile Brain new Terms produce, Or old Expressions bring again in use, Make all Ideas with their Signs agree, And sooner Things than Words shall wanting be. Harmonious Sounds th' attentive Ear shall please, While artful Number's Passions lay or raise; Commanding Vigour shall my Thoughts convey, And Softness seal the Truth of all I say: I'll soothe the raging Mob with mildest words, Or sluggish Cowards rouse to use their Swords. As furious Winds sweep down whate'er resists, So shall my Tongue perform whate'er it lists, With large impetuous Floods of Eloquence Tickle the Fancy, and bewitch the Sense; Make what it will the justest Cause appear, And what's perplexed or dark look bright and clear. Not that I would the wrongful side defend; He best protects who's ablest to offend: As the same Force which serves to curb our Foes, Can hurt those Friends who on our Love repose, And for whose sake we would our Lives expose. THUS armed, thus strong, thus fitted to persuade, I'll Truth protect, and Error strait invade, Dispel those Clouds that darken human sight, And bless the World with everlasting Light. A noble Fury does possess my Soul, Which all may forward, nothing can control; The fate of Being's, and the hopes of Men, Shall be what pleases my creating Peneus WHO formed the Universe, and when and why, Or if all things were from Eternity; What Laws to Nature were prescribed by JOVE; Where lies his chiefest residence above; Or if he's only but the World's great Soul; Or parts the Creatures are, and God the whole From whence all Being's their Existence have, And into which resolved they find a Grave; How nothing's lost, though all things change their Form, As that's a Fly which was but now a Worm; And Death is only to begin to be Some other thing, which endless change shall see; (Than why should men to die have so great fear? Tho nought's Immortal, all Eternal are.) Whether the Stars be numerous Suns, or no, And what's their use above, or Power below; What Planets are inhabited, what not; How many new emerged, what old forgot; If the dull Earth does turn about the Sun, Or that bright PHOEBUS' round this Globe does run; Whence the magnetic Force; how Winds can blow; What makes the Ocean duly ebb and flow; How come th'alternat Seasons of the Year, And why the Weather's warm, cold, dull, or clear; How Animals and Plants increase their kind, And what's the source of Life, of Soul or Mind; How Stones and Metals, Sands or Shells are framed, Shall only after me be rightly named. Thus quick as Thought I unconfined will fly Thro boundless Space, and vast Eternity; Nature to me appears in no disguise, Nor can one Atom scape my prying Eyes. O Glorious LIBERTY! for thee I'll prove The firmest Patron that e'er Tongue did move; I'll always execute what you decree, And be the fatal scourge of Slavery. Ambitious Tyrants, proud and useless Drones, I'll first expose, then tumble from their Thrones: Some their foul Crimes shall expiate by Death, And some in Exile draw their hated Breath. Their warlike Troops I shall with ease disband, And conquer those who all besides command; I've known a Senate with some magic words To Forks and Spades transform their bloody Swords: Those hectering Braves, who vaunt their Force so loud, A Patriot's Tongue can humble with the Crowd. Our fearless Youth (if these are at an end) Will their own Rights by their own Arms defend, And punish Nations when they dare offend. But, by the Soul of him who JULIUS killed, When I perceive that Oracle fulfilled, Which was to me pronounced by men Divine, That All goes well when Whigs and Torys join; I'll sing the Triumphs of the good Old Cause, Establish Justice, reinthrone the Laws, Restore the Nation to its perfect health, Then Power usurped destroy, and form a Commonwealth. BUT what in faint Ideas I conceive, A matchless Hero will by Facts achieve; That Freedom he restored he will maintain, Encourage Merit, and lewd Vice restrain. Our Laws, Religion, Arms, our Coin and Trade, All flourish under him, before decayed; In this more safe, more mighty, and renowned, Than if ten thousand Successors he crowned: For oft a just and valiant Prince's Name Degenerate Sons by horrid Crimes defame. Her BRUTUS' Rome had not so long adored, If he had made himself her Sov'rain Lord. O Godlike BRUTUS! for thy Contry's good Thou didst not shrink to shed thy children's Blood! And sure at home if thou were't so severe, Thou'dst never labour for a Foren Heir. But more than Tongues can speak, or Pens improve, The World and I expect from WILLIAM's Love, His People's Darling, heavens peculiar care, The Branch of Peace, and Thunderbolt of War. THRICE happy they who see thy Youth renewed, O potent Britain! thy worst Foes subdued, The proudest Kingdoms for thy Friendship sue, And all free States their Safety place in you. Their products East and West shall send to thee, Both Indys gladly will thy Handmaids be; The North unlocks her adamantin Door, And what the South conceals thou shalt explore. Thy mighty Fleets our Honour will regain, And the Flag's Triumph every where maintain. Thy Sons shall reap fresh Laurels near and far, Umpires of Peace and Leaders still in War. High Heaven alone shall o'er thy Buildings sway, And that alone be fairer thought than they▪ Submissive Kings shall on thy Senate wait, While Nations thence expect to hear their Fate. Let Learning then, and Manners be thy care, The Proud to humble, the Distressed to spare, And to free those who slavish Fetters wear. BUT what if Tyrant's ne'er were heard of more? What serves it equal Freedom to restore, So long as other Monsters, worse than they, Rule all Mankind with a despotic Sway? These are fit Objects of a Hero's rage; But where's the hercules to redeem the Age? NO longer thus the World shall be misled By him that's falsely called th' unerring Head. His Triple Crown I scornfully will spurn, And his proud Seat to heaps of Rubbish turn, Fright all his Vassals into Dens and Caves, Then smoke to death the sacrilegious Slaves. The swarming Herds of crafty Priests and Monks, The Female Orders of Religious Punks, Cardinals, Patriarches, Metropolitans, Franciscans, jesuits, Dominicans, And such like barbarous Names Ecclesiastic, Such superstitious, villainous, fantastic, Cozening Rogues I'll evermore disturb, Sense shall their Doctrines, Force their Malice curb. Nor will I here desist; all Holy Cheats Of all Religions shall partake my Threats, Whether with sable Gowns they show their Pride, Or under Cloaks their Knavery they hid, Or whatsoe'er disguise they choose to wear To gull the People, while their Spoils they share. As much as we revere those worthy men Who teach what's peaceful, necessary, plain; So much we should such Hypocrites impeach, As only Jargon, Strife, and empire preach. RELIGION's safe, with PRIESTCRAFT is the War, All Friends to Priestcraft, Foes of Mankind are. Their impious Fanes and Altars I'll overthrow, And the whole Farce of their feigned Saintship show; Their pious Tricks disclose; their murdering Zeal, And all their awful Mysteries reveal; Their lying Prophets, and their juggling Thiefs Discredit quite; their foolish Books (as Leaves From Trees in Autumn fall) I'll scatter wide, And show those Fables which they fain would hid. WHEN I've performed these Feats, new Danger calls; From Earth I'll soar, and scale high Heaven's Walls To pull false Gods from thence, that Men may see There's but one, true, all-perfect DEITY. Sound Reason is the Law that likes him best, Of Good and Ill the never-erring Test. His sacred Temple's every good Man's Heart, Where his choice Gifts he freely does impart; But they deserve and share his first Applause, Who stake their Lives in their dear Contry's Cause. An honest Mind is the best Prayer he needs; Paid with good Works, for him no Victim bleeds. With Forms and Postures he is never pleased, Nor is his Wrath with Bribes to be appeased: But, happy in himself, he neither wants Ought we can give; nor greater Blessings grants Than solid Sense, and an industrious Pain, Riches with this, Wisdom with that to gain. FROM this high Steep with hasty flight I'll bend, And to the Bosom of the Earth descend; To those dark Shades I'll introduce the day, And the vain Terrors of HELL's Court display. But wicked Deeds shall not unpunished go, Tho not as Priests and Poets falsely show. Those Old-wives Tales, imaginary Fears, The Cause of Horror, and the Source of Tears, I'll soon destroy; extinguish all their Flames, Dry up their Rivers, break their rattling Chains, Poison their Serpents, fright each hideous Form, Cerberus choke, and PLUTO's Castle storm, Legions of Fiends to Atoms I'll reduce, And leave bad Men no Temter for excuse, But such lewd Thoughts as their vain Fancy draws, Rebels to Reason's just and easy Laws. The best Repentance is to sin no more, And to the Owners what they've lost restore. Hell's always flaming in a Villain's Mind, Who's self-condemned, abhorred of all Mankind, And still suspicious of a Foe behind. VIRTUE's its own Reward; nor Rage of Foes, Nor Frowns of Friends can Virtue discompose. Tho Malice, Fraud, and Envy may combine, Spite of their Fury Innocence will shine. An honest man, when thousands treat him ill, His conscious Virtue will support him still, Till undeceived the World repairs his Fame, Life yields him Honour, Death a glorious Name. THUS powerful Eloquence shall teach the Wise Vile and absurd Inventions to despise; And Fools will mend when abler men exhort, Or by strict Laws are kept from doing hurt. But as no Rule without exception is, So Fools in LEARNING come not under this: For neither Brains nor Books make them improve, Nor Laws restrain, so much they Mischief love. The easiest things they speak in Terms uncouth, And emty notions hug for solid Truth. Sworn Foes to Reason, whose resistless Light Condemns their Pride and Ignorance to Night: Slaves to Authority, the Bane of Schools, Because all Times have Precedents for Fools▪ If in right ways I cannot such direct, I'll spoil their Trade, their Vanity detect. As sick men ordered by their Doctor's Bills To breathe that Air which quickly cures or kills; So shall my Words like Thunderbolts be hurled, And will confound or mend the erring World. BUT, when from Cares and public Business free, Bright VICTORINA my loved Theme shall be, The softest Words the sweetest Things will tell, And all I writ or speak be fine and well. When she inspires, I must great things pursue; If she approved, what Wonders could I do? I should than all to come discover more, And would eclipse those Lights which shined before. But her dear Image calms my raging Breast, All should be still to lodge so fair a Guest, Who hating me, I'm cursed; or loving, ever blest. THUS far I spoke; and CLITO all approved, Except what last was said of her I loved. He did not blame my Passion, and allowed A virtuous Woman's Heart might well be wooed; But that her Hate (like other Ills) the Wise Should soften first, or, missing that, despise: For Cowards lose by a too quick Despair What's gained by nobler Souls who persevere, And in Success or Merit Victors are. WE part; and each went where he wished to be, I to my Study, to his Garden Herald FINIS. JUSTUM & tenacem propositi virum Non civium Ardor prava jubentium, Non vultus instantis Tyranni, Mente quatit solida; neque Auster Dux inquieti infidus Adriae, Nec fulminantis magna Jovis manus: Si fractus illabatur orbis, Impavidum ferient ruinae. Horat. lib. 3. od. 3.