Shaftsbury's GHOST TO DOCTOR OATS. IN A VISION, Concerning the Jesuits and Lords in the Tower.  
IT was about the time when the Tavern Doares were shut up, and all Mortals were retired to their rest, save the Cl●b at the Devil. who were in a hot fit of Wine and Argument, about the Election of a new King of Poland, when the Ghost of the late King Tapsky came bolting through the Keyholes of my Chamber-Door.  
He seemed like the Emblem of Envy, his Hairs turned into Serpents, his Tap into a Pump, spouting with Sulphur and corroded Poison, with a long Veil of Hypocrisy Ermined and Spotted with Blood.  
In this Gasly-sight he appeared by my Bedside, where after a strong debauch of French Wine, and Italian Love; falling into a pleasant slumber, I began as usually, to Dream of a Parliament, when thus the Ghost applied himself unto me.  
Ghost. Thou Fool, thou flatters thyself with the hopes of a Parliament; thou Pratest, and Talkest, and Dreamest of Parliaments, when they will make no more for Thee, than thou hast made for the Protestant Interest, since thou turned Hypocrite, and put on the Salamanca Robes.  
Astonished at the unexpected Spectre, in a bloody sweat and panic fear, I crept under the smoking Blankets, lest he came to Involve me and the Nation in a new Plot, or with a Summons, to fetch me into the other World, when thus he applied himself to me.  
Fear not (Friend) thy time is not yet come, though thou scaped the late Buttocking, thou shalt Reign a while, though it be but short, we have use for such necessary Instruments upon Earth, to bring our Projects to Perfection.  
Thou knowest (Doctor) how many Journeys thou hast made to the Tower, when I was there, where we laid the foundation of all our Designs, and it's but fit I should make on Sally from Hell to give Thee thanks for the good Service thou hast done us. The Plot was well carried on at first, the Jesuits was a clever Jobb, and we will Record Thee in our Eternal Rubrics. But for the Lords in the Tower, I am afraid, in this long Respeit, they will weather the Point, and outlive our Malice; but make use of the Artillery I gave thee, and thou may'st be able yet, with thy stock of Impudence, to venture a Broadside amongst'em.  
Oats. At this, methought, I began to assume fresh Courage, and finding the Devil was not come to fetch me that very Instant, I began to argue with him as formerly, and asked of him, if he were Dead, or Alive? or if Dead where he was Disposed of, or what Reward he had found in the other World for all his Indefatigable Pains and Policy, when thus, (methought) with a shrill Voice, and quivering Accent, he answered,  
Ghost. From deepest Mansions of Hell, where Plots ar● laid, and Plotters are with us to be Rewarded; I come to tell Thee, That all thy Stratagems are Defeated, thy Villainies Detected, and thy Politics undermined; thy Artillery will be turned upon thyself, blown up with the Army, which thyself so long ago planted under ground. 'Tis true, I found the Fuel of a Plot, but thou with thy boreas-Nose, and Blobber-Chaps, blew the Bellows, which kindled with a Coal of pretended Zeal from the Altar, Increased it to such a height, that some fell a Sacrifice to thy fury; and what can thou expect but to fall a Sin-offering for the Blood that has been spilt. Thou made a Bull for the destruction of Mankind, and like Phalaris, must expect to Fry in the Flame.  
Oats. You studied and contrived all.  
Ghost. Thou forswore and lied.  
Oats. Did not you persuade the People all was True, when there was no more in it, than the prosecution of your own ungodly Ends?  
Ghost. Did not thou, like a Counterfeit Villain, pretend to give out Blank Commissions, which thyself, nor no man else, ever yet beheld, and persuaded the People that there was a Popish Army ready to Invade the Land.  
Oats. Did not you, like a little State-quack the Rables-Mountebank, give out every day upon the Stage your two Dozes of Slavery and Popery, which made the people run mad with mutiny and rebellion, to the forfeit of their Allegiance, had not the wise Physician of the State found an Antidote to expel your Poison.  
Ghost. A Curse on him that Betrayed the Cause.  
Oats. A Curse on him that made me a Party, and then left me in the lurch. Pox on your squinting Policy.  
Ghost. Plague on your timorous Folly, why didst thou not Prosecute the D.  
Oats. Why did not you Exclude him?  
Ghost. Why didst thou not swear the K. and Q into the Plot, that there might be none left to Dissolve us?  
Oats. Why did not you mind your Hits, and follow the Joiner at Oxford; such Promethian Rashness, aiming at the Sun, broke the Neck of a good Plot.  
Ghost. 'Twas thy ill management thou Fool, for which thou shalt be Haunted by my Ghost, thy contradictory Narratives and shame Commissions; a Pox on your eliot's, and little Don john's.  
Oats. A Pox on your Exclusions, and Associations, your Liberty and Pro. perty, your Seditious Speeches and Factious Cabals, were it not for these, we might have brought our Projects to Perfection, and made a good harvest of it.  
Ghost. The Gallows! what else can thou expect since I am gone. But that thou mayst not shame the Devil at last by telling one Truth in thy Life, spoil all with a mean Confession, and like a whining Convert, repent thee of the noble Mischiefs thou hast done, hold up thy stiff Neck, let lose thy loud and scandalous Tongue, throw up thy Copper Snout, and double hatch thy brazen Face with the wash of Tinsel Loyalty, and pretended Religion; carry it on with the same Impudence and Hypocrisy; tell the City their Liberties are lost with their Charter, Preach Sedition to the People, and warn the Brethren that they submit not to be brought under the Dominion of Popery and Slavery. Tell them the Lord Mayor and present Sheriffs are Usurpers, and betrayers of the Rights and Liberties of the Subject, and that you may impose it with more Credit upon the people, stand fast to all you Have said or done. Say the Jesuits and Stafford died justly for conspiring against the King's Life, and that the Lords in the Tower are guilty of the same; for this Cause make your frequent visits thither, and view them well, and often, lest you should mistake one for the other, or forget the Crimes of which you accuse them.  
Keep to the Church, but more the Conventicle, the Gown, but more the Cloak, and let the Canonical Vest and Campaign Coat, do their Offices by turns, since the Brethren love change, and will do any thing to encourage Faction at any Rate.  
Oats. Have I not changed, as often as the Chameleon does its Colour, with every object that is before it? Have I not changed the City for the Court, the Court for the City, Union for Faction, Religion for Sedition, and do I not change my Religion every week with my Lodging? But I find all will not do, the brethren's Charity is grown cold, and I am left like the Chameleon, to the open Air, and for aught I see, am like to have no other Food.  
Ghost. Thy last Change is near at hand, but that it be not at Tyburn, let the next Change be like mine, for the fresh Air in some Foreign Land. It is full time to do Penance, thou wilt make an excellent Pilgrim in Hungary, to put the Malcontents against the Emperor, and the Turk against both.  
Oats. I have not done here yet.  
Ghost. Thou hast done enough to make the City too hot for Thee, as well as the Court, and it is Impudence beyond Reason, to presume to hold up thy head where I durst not show my Face, forced to fly to save that old projecting Head, and what canst thou hope that has put all those projects in Execution.  
Oat●. Though I have Impudence enough to brazen it out, I must confess since you were gone, my hopes are turned into despair of making any more of it, and I would willingly turn myself, out that I fear I have so bewitched the People with my Lies and Perjuries, that I should hardly be believed if I speak Truth.  
Ghost. That Torments me more than my Pains, lest thou by turning Cat in Pan, by some mean Discovery, or whining Confession at the Gallows, thou shouldst betray me after Death, and confess who put thee upon it; for it is some pleasure, even in Torments, to see that our malicious projects take their wished effects.  
Oats. They have done too long, would I was well rid on'em, and could well slip my Neck out of this dangerous Choler.  
Ghost. For that Cause, I would have thee by my Example fly in time; or if thou dare venture to brazen it out; stick closely to what thou hast asserted, and the Instructions I gave thee. And hang, though it be with a lie in thy Mouth, the Devil loves no Converts.  
Oats. For that matter I do not fear to look the Devil in the Face at the last Gasp. But I am afraid my Memory may fail me in some particulars, without your assistance, and you know how necessary a good Memory is for one of my Profession.  
Ghost. I will by thy Genius, ready on all occasions at thy Elbow, thou shalt be Mahomet, and I thy Pigeon, to prompt and instruct thee. I will stick to thee even in Death, my Ghost shall never be at rest while I have left any considerable Mischief unattempted, that is yet in thy power to accomplish.  
Oats. This generous kindness and Correspondence renewed even after Death, 〈◊〉 me take compassion of the trembling shade, offering him share of my Bed, which (methought) he willingly accepted, laying himself in such a posture as was most suitable for my present Fancy to work upon. He had no sooner laid down, but imagined it had been my old Familiar whom I had often made use of on that occasion. I fell in closely Embraces, like Aeneas, in Combat with a shadow, but with the violent struggling I awaked, which troubled me when I found it was but a Dream.  
Imprimatur W: P:   

Edinburgh, reprinted by the Heir of Andrew Anderson, Printer to His mo●● Sacred Majesty, Anno DOM. 1683.