The Project Gutenberg eBook ofAnti-Achitophel (1682)This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: Anti-Achitophel (1682)Editor: Harold Whitmore JonesAuthor: Samuel PordageElkanah SettleRelease date: June 6, 2006 [eBook #18517]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Louise Hope, David Starner, Suzanne Lybargerand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team athttp://www.pgdp.net*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANTI-ACHITOPHEL (1682) ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: Anti-Achitophel (1682)Editor: Harold Whitmore JonesAuthor: Samuel PordageElkanah SettleRelease date: June 6, 2006 [eBook #18517]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Louise Hope, David Starner, Suzanne Lybargerand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team athttp://www.pgdp.net
Title: Anti-Achitophel (1682)
Editor: Harold Whitmore JonesAuthor: Samuel PordageElkanah Settle
Editor: Harold Whitmore Jones
Author: Samuel Pordage
Elkanah Settle
Release date: June 6, 2006 [eBook #18517]
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Louise Hope, David Starner, Suzanne Lybargerand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team athttp://www.pgdp.net
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANTI-ACHITOPHEL (1682) ***
A few typographical errors have been corrected. They have been marked in the text withmouse-hover popups.The continuous page numbers in the left margin are from the facsimile edition. Those in the right margin are from the original works, with brackets or parentheses as in the original. Folio numbers, when used, are shown directly below the page number; they were originally printed at the bottom center of the page.
Editor’s IntroductionAllusionsReferences
Absalom SeniorIntroductionTextErrata
Poetical ReflectionsIntroductionText
Azaria and HushaiIntroductionText
iii
English verse allegory, humorous or serious, political or moral, has deep roots; a reprint such as the present is clearly no place for a discussion of the subject at large:1it need only be recalled here that to the age that producedThe Pilgrim's Progressthe art form was not new. Throughout his life Dryden had his enemies, Prior and Montague in their satire ofThe Hind and the Panther, for example. The general circumstances under which Dryden wroteAbsalom and Achitophel, familiar enough and easily accessible, are therefore recalled only briefly below. Information is likewise readily available on his use of Biblical allegory.2
We are here concerned with three representative replies toAbsalom and Achitophel: their form, their authors, and details of their publication. Settle's poem was reprinted with one slight alteration a year after its first appearance; theReflectionshas since been reprinted in part, Pordage's poem not at all.Absalom Seniorhas been chosen because, of the many verse pieces directed against Dryden's poem, it is of the greatest intrinsic merit and shows the reverse side of the medal, as it were, to that piece; the second is given, not for any literary merit it may possess--indeed, from its first appearance it has been dismissed as of small worth--but rather as a poem representative of much of the versifying that followed hard on the Popish Plot and as one that has inspired great speculation as to its author; the third, in addition to throwing light on the others, is a typical specimen of the lesser work produced in the Absalom dispute.
The author and precise publication date of theReflectionsremain unidentified. Ascription of the poem to Buckingham rests ultimately on the authority of Wood'sAthenae Oxoniensesand on Wood alone, and we do not know on what evidence he thought it to be Buckingham's; we do know, however, that Wood was often mistaken over such matters. Sir Walter Scott in his collected edition of Dryden (1808; IX, 272-5) also accepted Buckingham as the author, but cited no authority; he printed extracts, yet the shortcomings of his edition, whatever its convenience, are well known. The poem has not appeared in any subsequent edition of Dryden's poems, the latest being theivfour volume set (Oxford, 1958); the volume of the California Dryden relevant toAbsalomis still awaited.AInternal evidence is even more scanty. Only one passage of theReflections(sig. D2) may bear on the matter. Perhaps the "Three-fold Might" (p. 7, line 11) refers, not to the poet's "tripartite design" (p. 7, line 10) or to the Triple Alliance of England, Holland, and Sweden against France (1677/8, as inAbsalom and Achitophel, line 175) but either to a treatise which had occasioned some stir in the scientific world some twenty years previously: "the Delphic problem" proposed by Hobbes to the Royal Society on the duplication of the cube, which might have come to the ears of Buckingham as well as to those of the court,3or perhaps to the triple confederacy of Essex, Halifax, and Sunderland.4But to the Restoration reader the phrase "Three-fold Might" would rather have suggested the Triple Alliance, to which Dryden reverts inThe Medal(lines 65-68) when he claims that Shaftesbury, "thus fram'd for ill, ... loos'd our Triple Hold" on Europe.5
Evidence against Buckingham's authorship, on the other hand, is comparatively strong. The piece does not appear in his collectedWorks(1704-5). It surely would have been included even though he had at first wished to claim any credit from its publication and later have wished to disown it. Little connection, furthermore, will be found between theReflectionsand the rest of his published verse or with the plays, includingThe Rehearsal, if the latter be his alone, which is doubtful.
Poetical Reflectionshas been ascribed to Edward Howard. W. Thomas Lowndes in hisBibliographer's Manual(1864; II, 126) assigned to this minor writer, on the authority of an auction note, the little collectionPoems and Essays, with a Paraphrase on Cicero's Laelius, or, Of Friendship ... By a Gentleman(1674), and G. Thorn-Drury, on the equally debatable evidence of an anonymous manuscript ascription on the title page of his own copy, ascribed thePoetical Reflectionsto Howard.6An examination of thePoems and Essays, however, reveals no point of resemblance with our poem. How, then, does Howard fit into the picture? He was in the rival camp to Dryden and was a friend of Martin Clifford7and of Thomas Sprat, then Buckingham's chaplain: these three have been thought to be jointly responsible forThe Rehearsal. Sprat had published a poem of congratulation to Howard on Howard'sThe British Princes(1669), the latter a long pseudo-epicvof the Blackmore style in dreary couplets which, again, provides no parallel with theReflections. And what of Howard's plays? Many of these were written in the 1660's during his poetic apprenticeship; none seems akin to our poem. Whereas, as shown in the Table of Allusions below, two independent readers often agreed over the identities of many characters in Settle's poem, Restoration readers at large were reticent over the authorship of theReflections. Hugh Macdonald, in his usefulJohn Dryden: a Bibliography(1939), was wise to follow their example, and it seems rash, therefore, to propose any new candidate in the face of such negative evidence. The poem exists in two states, apparently differing only in the title page.
Evidence of Settle's authorship ofAbsalom Senior, on the other hand, is neither wanting nor disputed. We have had to wait until our own century for the pioneer work on this writer, since he cannot have been considered a sufficiently major poet by Samuel Johnson's sponsors, and Langbaine's account is sketchy. In a periodical paper8Macdonald summarized supplementary evidence on the dates of composition of Settle's poem; he was working on it in January 1681/2, and it was published on the following April 6. Lockyer, Dean of Peterborough, asserted to Joseph Spence, who includes the rumor inAnecdotes, that Settle was assisted by Clifford and Sprat and by "several best hands of those times";9but Spence is notoriously unreliable. In the lack of other evidence, then, it seems best to take the poem as wholly Settle's. It needs only to add a few words on its textual states. The First Edition, here reproduced, seems to exist in a single impression, and likewise the Second Edition of the Settle (1682, in quarto) seems to have been struck off in a single textual state. Of its individual variants from the First Edition only the following seem of any significance and, since there is no reason to suppose that it was printed from any copy other than the First, they may be merely the result of carelessness.
For "No Link ... night" (p. 35, lines 19-24), the Second Edition substitutes, for an undetermined reason, the following:
No less the Lordly Zelecks Glory soundFor courage and for Constancy renoun'd:Though once in naught but borrow'd plumes adorn'd,So much all servile Flattery he scorn'd;That though he held his Being and Support,By that weak Thread the Favour of a Court,In Sanhedrims unbrib'd, he firmly boldDurst Truth and Israels Right unmov'd uphold;In spight of Fortune, still to Honour wed,By Justice steer'd, though by Dependence fed.
Very little can be said of Pordage's poem, beyond its date of publication (January 17, 1681/2)10and the fact that no parallel has been found with his earlier work. As no detailed study on him, published or unpublished, has been traced, we can only have recourse to the standard works on the period; data thus easily accessible are not therefore reproduced here. A so-called second edition (MacDonald 205b) is identical with the first.
In conclusion a few comments may be made on the general situation into which the poems fit. It will be remembered thatAbsalom and Achitophelappeared after the Exclusion Bill, the purpose of which was to debar James Duke of York from the Protestant succession, had been rejected by the House of Lords, mainly through the efforts of Halifax. Dryden's poem was advertised on November 17, 1681, and we may safely assume that it was published only a short time before Settle and our other authors were hired by the Whigs to answer it. Full details have not survived; one suspects Shaftesbury's Green Ribbon Club. That such replies were considered necessary testifies both to the popularity ofAbsalom and Achitophelwith the layman in politics and to the Whigs' fear of its harming their cause. Settle's was of course a mercenary pen, and it is amusing to note that after ridiculing Halifax here he was quite prepared to publish, fourteen years later,Sacellum Apollinare: a Funeral Poem to the Memory of that Great Statesman, George Late Marquiss of Halifax, and on this count his place among Pope's Dunces seems merited. In tracing his quarrel with Dryden up to the publication ofAbsalom Senior, critics have tended to overlook the fact that by 1680 there was already hostility between the two;11less has been said about the effect on Dryden of the poets themselves. The spleen of his contributions to the Second Part ofAbsalom and Achitophelis essentially a manufactured one and for the public entertainment; personally he was comparatively unmoved--the Og portrait,viifor example, is less representative than his words in "The Epistle to the Whigs" prefixed toThe Medal. Here, as inMac Flecknoe, he appears to have been able to write vituperation to order. "I have only one favor to desire of you at parting," he says, and it is "that when you think of answering this poem, you would employ the same pens against it, who have combated with so much success againstAbsalom and Achitophel; for then you may assure yourselves of a clear victory, without the least reply." Is it for the best that this forecast proved the right one?
For permission to reproduce their copies of texts comprising the present reprint thanks are expressed to the University of Florida Library (Absalom Senior) and to the Trustees of the British Museum (the other two poems). The University of Leeds and the City of Manchester Public Library are also thanked for leave to use contemporary marginalia in each's copy of Settle's poem. The provenance of the latter two copies of this piece is unknown; the first, now in the Brotherton Collection, bears the name William Crisp on its last blank leaf and, in abbreviated form, identifies some characters; the second, of unidentified ownership, is fuller.
HAROLD WHITMORE JONES
Liverpool, England
November, 1959
The persons and places referred to in the allegories are identified in the following lists of names. M indicates the ascription in the Manchester copy; B, that in the Leeds University copy. Within the list for each poem, names similarly used inAbsalom and Achitophelare omitted; those used with a different meaning are marked with an asterisk.
*Absalom, Duke of York
*Achitophel, Halifax
*Adriel, Earl of Huntington
Amasai, Earl of Macclesfield (M, B)
Amnon, Godfrey
*Amiel, Buckingham (B)
Amram, Sir William Jones
Arabia, Portugal
Ashur, Fourth Lord Herbert of Cherbury (M)
Babylon, Rome
Barak, Drake
*Barzillai, Shaftesbury (B)
*Caleb, Laurence Hyde, son of Clarendon (B)
Camries, Third Lord Howard of Escrick (M)
*Corah, Sir Edward Seymour (B)
Deborah, Queen Elizabeth
Endor, Oxford (B)
Geshur, Ireland
Hanaan, Lord Nottingham
Hazor, Spain
*Helon, First Duke of Bedford
*Hothriel, Slingsby Bethell
*Hushai, Earl of Argyll
Ithream, Monmouth
Jabin, Philip II
*Jonas, ?Sir William Gregory (M glosses as Seymour;see Corah)
*Jotham, Earl of Essex
Laura, Anne Reeve
Levitick chiefs, English bishops (B)
Micah, Sir William Williams, Speaker of the Commons
*Nadab, Lauderdale
*Shimei, Jeffreys (B)
Sidon, Denmark
Sisera, Medina Sidonia
Zeleck, unidentified
*Amiel, ?Finch, Lord Chancellor
*Bathsheba, ?Queen Catherine
Nimrod, Cromwell
Tory Roger, L'Estrange
Abidon, unidentified
Amalack, ?Henry Hyde, son of Clarendon
Amazia, Charles II
Aminadab, Ashur, unidentified;seeAshurabove.
Athalia, Mary Queen of Scots
Azaria, Monmouth
Azyad, Sir Edmundbury Godfrey
Bibbai, L'Estrange
Canaanites, Chemarim, Papists
Doeg, Danby
Edomites, Irish
Elam, Lawrence Hyde, Earl of Rochester
Eliab, Lord Russell
Eliakim, Duke of York
Elishama, ?Macclesfield
Elizur, Enan, unidentified
Gamaliel, unidentified
Gedaliah, Edward Coleman
Gibbar, ?Lord Clifford
Harim, ?Lord Wharton
Helon, Bedford
*Hushai, Shaftesbury
Jehosaphat, Henry VII
Jeptha, see Settle, p. 21
Jerusha, Anne, Countess of Buccleuch
Joash, Charles I
Jocoliah, Lucy Walters
*Jotham, ?Halifax
Libni, Oates
Muppim, ?Lauderdale
Nashai, Essex
Pagiel, unidentified
Pharisee, high churchman
Rehoboam, unidentified
*Shimei, Dryden
Zabed, Cromwell
Zattue, unidentified
ix
Biblical parallels and parallels withAbsalom and Achitophelare omitted. TheDedicationsof the poems can be compared with Dryden's inAbsalom and Achitophel.
PAGE
3:Barak. The only borrowing in the poem from a popular seventeenth century jest book,Wits Recreations(1640), "Epigrams," no. 46, "On Sir Fr. Drake": "The sun itself cannot forget/His fellow traveller."
11: aJewishRenegade. Cardinal Philip Thomas Howard (B).
13: a Breaden God. Either a reference to transubstantiation (see also II Kings 2-3 and II Chron. 34) or an allusion to the Meal Tub Plot (1679).
16: a Cake ofShew-bread. In addition to the Biblical allusion, perhaps a reference to the poisoning of the Holy Roman Emperor Henry VII by the communion wafer.
17: in Possession. As this legal term is opposed to "reversion" emendation is unnecessary.
19: to bear. There was a belief that Jeffreys was connected with the Duchess of Portsmouth (B). The "Golden Prize" was perhaps protestantism, to be suppressed under a secret provision of the Treaty of Dover (1670).
19: Court-Drugster. Sir George Wakeman.
25: beautifyed.OEDnotices this catachrestic form of "beatified"
32: All-be-devill'd Paper. Presumably that accusing Shaftsbury of high treason.
34: A Cell. Eton.
37: Midnight Bawd. Mrs. Cellier.
4: Ignoramus.Thejury's verdict at Shaftesbury's trial.
5: the Joyner. Stephen Colledge.
9: motly Sight, read "Spight"?
10: Power onAmazia. Read "ofAmazia"?
19: allay'd. Read "ally'd"?
28: to board. Read "hoard"?
38: swifty back. So in all copies seen.
1. Cf. E. D. Leyburn,Satiric Allegory, Mirror of Man(New Haven, 1956).
2. e.g.,Absalom's Conspiracy, a tract tracing how the Bible story came to be used for allegorical purposes. SeeThe Harleian Miscellany(1811), VIII, 478-479; and R. F. Jones, "The Originality of 'Absalom and Achitophel,'"Modern Language Notes, XLVI (April, 1931) 211-218.
3. Hobbes,English Works(1845), ed. by Molesworth, VII, 59-68.
4. H. C. Foxcroft,A Character of the Trimmer(Cambridge, England, 1946), p. 70. This book is an abridged version of the same author'sLife and Works of Halifax(1897).
5. Cf. the phrase "Twofold might" inAbsalom and Achitophel, I, 175.
6.Review of English Studies, I (1925) 82-83.
7. In hisNotes upon Mr. Dryden's Poems in Four Letters(1687) Clifford, in 16 pages, accuses Dryden of plagiarism, especially inAlmanzor.
8. "The Attacks on John Dryden,"Essays and Studies by Members of the English Association, XXI, 41-74.
9. Joseph Spence,Anecdotes ... of Books and Men(1858), p. 51.
vi
10.Modern Philology, XXV (1928) 409-416.
11. e.g., overThe Empress of Morocco; see Scott'sDryden, XV, 397-413.
Transcriber’s Footnote:"the volume of the California Dryden relevant toAbsalomis still awaited"This Introduction was written in 1959. Volume II of the California Edition (The Works of John Dryden) was published in 1972.
13
Gentlemen, for so you all write your selves; and indeed you are your own Heralds, and Blazon all your Coats withHonourandLoyaltyfor yourSupporters; nay, and you are so unconscionable too in that point, that you will allow neither of them in any otherScutcheonsbut your own. But who has ’em, or has ’em not, is not my present business; onely as you profess your selves Gentlemen, to conjure you to give an Adversary fair play; and that if any person whatsoever shall pretend to be aggrieved by thisPOEM, or any part of it, that he would bear it patiently; since the Licentiousness of the firstAbsolomandAchitophelhas been the sole occasion of the Liberty of This, I having only taken the Measure of My Weapon, from the Length of his; which by the Rules of Honour ought not to offend you; especially, since the boldness of that Ingenious Piece, was wholly taken from the Encouragement you gave the Author; and ’tis from that Boldness only that thisPOEMtakes its Birth: for had not his daring Pen brought that Piece into the World, I had been so far from troubling my self in any Subject on this kind, that I may justly say in one sence, the Writer of thatAbsolom, is the Author of this. This favour, as in Justice due, obtain’d from you, I shall not trouble you with a long Preface, like a tedious Compliment at the Door, but desire you to look in for your Entertainment. Onely I cannot forbear telling you, that one thing I am a little concern’d for you,Tories, that yourAbsolomsandAchitophels, and the rest of your Grinning Satyres against theWhiggs, have this one unpardonable Fault, That the Lash is more against aDavid, than anAchitophel; whilst the running down of thePLOTat so extravagant a rate, savours of very little less (pardon the Expression) than ridiculing of Majesty it self, and turning all those several Royal Speeches to the Parliament on that Subject, onely into those double-tongu’d Oracles that sounded one thing, and meant another. Besides, after this unmannerly Boldness, of not onely branding the publick Justice of the Nation, but affronting even the Throne it self, to14push the humour a little farther, you run into ten times a greater Vice, (and in the same strain too) than what you so severely inveigh against: and whilst aPOPISH PLOTthrough want of sufficient Circumstances, and credible Witnesses, miscarries with you, aPROTESTANT PLOTwithout either Witness or Circumstance at all, goes currant. Nay you are so far now from your former niceties and scruples, and disparing about raising of Armies, and not one Commission found, that you can swallow the raising of a whole ProtestantARMY, without either Commission, or Commission-Officer; Nay, the very When, Where, and How, are no part of your Consideration. ’Tis true, the great Cry amongst you, is, The Nations Eyes are open’d; but I am afraid, in most of you, ’tis onely to look where you like best: and to help your lewd Eye-sight, you have got a damnable trick of turning the Perspective upon occasion, and magnifying or diminishing at pleasure. But alas, all talking to you is but impertinent, and fending and proving signifie just nothing; for after all Arguments, both Parties are so irreconcileable, that as the Author ofAbsolomwisely observed, they’ll be Fools or Knaves to each other to the end of the Chapter. And therefore I am so reasonable in this point, that should be very glad to divide ’em between ’em, and give the Fool to theTory, and the Knave to theWhigg. For theToriesthat will believe noPOPISH PLOT, may as justly come under that denomination, as They, thatDavidtells us,said in their Hearts there was no God. And then let theWhiggsthat do believe aPopish Plotbe the Knaves, for daring to endeavour to hinder the Effects of aPopish Plot, when theToriesare resolved to the contrary. But to draw near a conclusion, I have one favour more to beg of you, that you’ll give me the freedom of clapping but about a score of years extraordinary on the back of myAbsolom. Neither is it altogether so unpardonable a Poetical License, since we find as great slips from the Author of your ownAbsolom, where we see him bring in aZimriinto the Court ofDavid, who in the Scripture-story dyed by the Hand ofPhineasin the days ofMoses. Nay, in the other extream, we find him in another place talking of the Martyrdome ofStephen, so many Ages after. And if so famous an Author can forget his own Rules of Unity, Time, and Place, I hope you’ll give a Minor Poet some grains of Allowance, and he shall ever acknowledge himself
Your Humble Servant.
15
Transcriber’s Note:The original text includes anErrata list, printed in a single block of small type and only partially legible. In at least one case, the requested change appears to be what the text already says. For these reasons, changes listed havenotbeen made, but are noted withpopups.
InGloomy Times, when Priestcraft bore the sway,And made Heav’ns Gate a Lock to their own Key:When ignorant Devotes did blindly bow,And groaping to be sav’d they knew not now:Whilst thisEgyptiandarkness did orewhelm,The Priest sate Pilot even at Empires Helm.Then Royal Necks were yok’d, and Monarchs stillHoldbut their Crowns at his Almighty Will.And to defend this high Prerogative,Falsely from Heaven he did that powr derive:By a Commission forg’d i’th’ hand of God,Turn’dAaronsblooming wand, toMosessnaky Rod.Whilst Princes little Scepters overpowr’d,Made but that prey his wider Gorge devour’d.Now to find Wealth might his vast pomp supply,(For costly Roofs befit a Lord so high)No Arts were spar’d his Luster to support,But all Mines searcht t’enrich his shining Court.Then Heav’n was bought, Religion but a Trade;And Temples Murder’s Sanctuary made.ByPhineasSpear no bleedingCozbiesgroan’d,IfCozbiesGold forCozbiesCrimes aton’d.With these wise Arts, (for Humane PolicyAs well as Heav’nly Truth, mounts Priests so high)’Twixt gentle Penance, lazy Penitence,A Faith that gratifies both Soul and Sense;With easie steps to everlasting Bliss,He paves the rugged way to Paradice.16Thus almost all the Proselyte-World he drives,Whilst th’universal Drones buz to his Hives.Implicite Faith Religion thus convey’dThrough little pipes to his great Channel laid,Till Piety through such dark Conduits led,Was poyson’d by the Spring on which it fed.Here blind Obedience to a blinder Guide,Nurst that Blind Zeal that rais’d the Priestly pride;Whilst to make Kings the Sovereign Prelate own,Their Reason he enslav’d, and then their Throne.The Mitre thus above the Diadem soar’d,Gods humble servant He, but Mans proud Lord.It was in such Church-light blind-zeal was bred,By Faiths infatuating Meteor led;Blind Zeal, that can even Contradictions joyn;A Saint in Faith, in Life a Libertine;Makes Greatness though in Luxury worn down,Bigotted even to th’ Hazard of a Crown;Ty’d to the Girdle of a Priest so fast,And yet Religious only to the wast.But Constancy atoning Constancy,Where that once raigns, Devotion may lye by.T’espouse the Churches Cause lyes in Heav’ns road,More than obeying of the Churches God.And he dares fight, for Faith is more renown’dA Zealot Militant, than Martyr crown’d.Here the Arch-Priest to that Ambition blown,Pull’d down Gods Altars, to erect his own:For not content to publish Heav’ns command,The Sacred Law penn’d by th’Almighty Hand,AndMoses-like ’twixt God andIsraelgo,ThoughtSinai’s Mount a Pinacle too low.
And ceasing to adore, to be ador’d.So fell Faiths guide: so loftily he towr’d,Till like th’AmbitiousLuciferaccurst,Swell’d to a God, into a Fiend he burst.
But as greatLuciferby falling gain’dDominion, and ever in Damnation reign’d;
17
And thus enthron’d, with an infernal spight,The genuine Malice of the Realms of night,The Paradise he lost blasphemes, abhors,And against Heav’n proclaims Eternal Wars;No Arts untry’d, no hostile steps untrod,Both against Truths Adorers, and Truths God.
So Faiths faln Guide, nowBaalsgreat Champion raign’d;Wide was his Sway, and Mighty his Command:Whilst with implacable revenge he burn’d,And all his Rage against GodsIsraelturn’d.Here his invenom’d Souls black gall he flings,Spots all his Snakes, and points his Scorpions stings:Omits no Force, or Treacherous Designe,BlestIsraelto assault, or undermine.But the first Sword did his keen Malice draw,Was aim’d against the God-likeDeborah.Deborah, the matchless pride ofJudah’s Crown,Whose Female handBaal’simpious Groves cut down,His banisht Wizards from herIsraelthrust,And pounded all their Idols into dust.Her Life with indefatigable pain,By Daggers long, and poysons fought in vain:At length they angryJabinsRage enflam’d,Hazorsproud King, for Iron Chariots fam’d;A Warriour powerful, whose most dreadful HoastProclaim’d Invincible, (were humane BoastInfallible) by haughtySiseraled,’GainstDeborahtheir bloody Banners spread.HereDeborahherBarakcalls to War;Barak, the Suns fam’d fellow-traveller,Who wandring o’re the Earths surrounded Frame,Had travelled far as his great Mistress Fame.HereBarakdid withDeborah’svengeance fly,And to that swift prodigious Victory,So much by Humane Praises undefin’d,That Fame wants Breath, and Wonder lags behind.To Heav’ns high Arch her sounding Glories rung,Whilst thus greatDeborahandBaraksung.
18Hear, oh ye Princes, oh ye Kings give Ear,AndIsraelsgreat Avengers honour hear.When God of Hosts, thouIsraelsSpear and Shield,Wentst out ofSeir, and marched’st fromEdomsfield,Earth trembled, the Heaven’s drop’d, the Clouds all pour’d;The Mountains melted from before the Lord;Even thy ownSinaimelted into streams,AtIsraelsdazling Gods refulgent Beams.InShamgarand inJael’sformer days,The wandring Traveller walked through by-ways.They chose new Gods. No Spear nor Sword was found,To have Idolatry depos’d, Truth Crown’d,Till I alone, againstJehovahsFoes;IDeborah, IIsraelsMother rose.WakeDeborah, wake, raise thy exalted Head;RiseBarak, and Captivity Captive lead.For to blestDeborah, belov’d of Heav’n,Over the Mighty is Dominion given.GreatBarakleads, andIsraelsCourage warms;EphraimandBenjaminmarch down in Arms:ZebulonandNepthalimy Thunder bore,Danfrom herShip, andAsheron the Shore.BeholdMegiddoeswaves, and from afar,See the fierceJabinsthreatning storm of War.But Heav’n ’gainstSiserafought, and the kind StarsKindl’dtheir embattel’d Fires forDeborah’sWars,Shot down their Vengeance that miraculous day,WhenKishonsTorrants swept their Hosts away.But curse yeMeroz, curse ’em from on high.Did the denouncing voice of Angels cry;Accurst be they that went not out t’opposeThe MightyDeborah’s, God’s, andIsrael’sFoes.VictoriousJudah!Oh my Soul, th’hast trod,Trod down their strengths. So fall the Foes of God.But they who in his Sacred Laws delight,Be as the Sun when he sets out in might.
Thus sung,theyconquer’dDeborah; thus fellHers, and Heav’ns Foes. But no Defeat tames Hell.By Conquest overthrown, but not dismay’d,’GainstIsraelstill their private Engines play’d.19And their dire Machinations to fulfil,Their stings torn out, they kept their poyson still.And now too weak in open force to joyn,In close Cabals they hatcht a damn’d Design,To light that Mine as should the world amaze,And set the ruin’dIsraelin a blaze.
WhenJudahsMonarch with his Princes round,Amidst his glorious Sanedrim sate Crown’d,Beneath his Throne a Cavern low, and darkAs their black Souls, for the great Work they mark.In this lone Cell their Midnight-Hands bestow’dAStygianCompound, a combustive loadOf Mixture wondrous, Execution dire,Ready the Touch of their Infernal Fire.Have you not seen in yon æthereal Road,How at the Rage of th’angry driving God,Beneath the pressure of his furious wheelsThe Heav’ns all rattle, and the Globe all reels?So does this Thunder’s Ape its lightning play,Keen as Heav’ns Fires, and scarce less swift than they.
This Mixture was th’Invention of a Priest;The Sulphurous Ingredients all the bestOf Hells own growth: for to dire Compounds stillHell finds the Minerals, and the Priest the Skill.
From this curst Mine they had that blow decreed,A Moments dismal blast, as should exceedAll the Storms, Battles, Murders, Massacres,And all the strokes of Daggers, Swords, or Spears,Since firstCain’shand atAbelsHead was lift:A Blow more swift than Pestilence, more swiftThan ever a destroying Angel rod,To pour the Vial of an angry God.
The Train was laid, the very Signal giv’n;But here th’all-seeing,IsraelsGuardian, Heav’nCould hold no longer; and to stop their way,With a kind Beam from th’Empyræan Day,20Disclos’d their hammering Thunder at the Forge;And made their Cyclops Cave their Bolts disgorge.
Discover’d thus, thus lost, betray’d, undone,Yet still untir’d, the Restless Cause goes on;And to retrieve a yet auspicious day,A glowing spark even in their Ashes lay,Which thus burst out in flames. InGeshurLand,The utmost Bound ofIsraelsCommand,WhereJudah’splanted Faith but slowly grew,A Brutal Race thatIsraelsGod n’er knew:A Nation by the Conquerors Mercy grac’d,Their Gods preserv’d, and Temples undefac’d;Yet not content with all the Sweets of Peace,Free their Estates, and free their Consciences;’GainstIsraelthose confederate Swords they drew,Which with that vast Assassination flewTwo hundred thousand Butcher’d Victims shar’dOne common doom: No Sex nor Age was spar’d:Not kneeling Beauties Tears, not Virgins Cries,Nor Infants Smiles: No prey so small but dies.Alas, the hard-mouth’d Blood-hound, Zeal, bites through;Religion hunts, and hungry Jaws pursue.To what strange Rage is Superstition driven,That Man can outdo Hell to fight for Heav’n!So RebelGeshurfought: so drown’d in gore,Even Mother Earth blusht at the Sons she bore;And still asham’d of her old staining Brand,Her Head shrinks down and Quagmires half their Land.Yet not this blowBaalsEmpire could enlargeForIsraelstill was Heav’ns peculiar charge:Unshaken still in all this Scene of Blood,Truths Temple firm on Golden Columns stood.WhilstSaulsRevenging Arm proudGeshurscourg’d,From their rank soyl theirHydra’spoyson purg’d.
Yet does not here their vanquish’d spleen give o’re,But as untir’d, and restless as before,Still through whole waiting Ages they outdoAt once the Chimists pains and patience too.Who though he sees his bursting Limbecks crack,And at one blast, one fatal Minutes wrack,21The forward Hopes of sweating years expire;With sad, yet painful hand new lights his Fire:Pale, lean, and wan, does Health, Wealth, all consume;Yet for the great Elixir still to come,Toyls and hopes on. No less their Plottings cease;So hope, so toyl, the foes ofIsraelspeace.
When lo, a long expected day appears,Sought for above a hundred rowling years;A day i’th’ register of Doom set down,Presents ’em with an Heir ofIsraelsCrown.Here their vast hopes of the richIsraelsspoils,Requites the pains of their long Ages Toyls.BaalsBanners now i’th’ face of day shall march,With Heav’ns bright Roof for his Triumphal Arch.His lurking Missioners shall now no moreFrom Forreign Schools in borrow’d shapes come o’re;Convert by Moon-light, and their Mystick RitesPreach topoorFemale half-Soul’d Proselytes.An all-commanding Dragon now shall soar,Where the poor Serpents onely crawl’d before.
He shall new plant their Groves with each blest Tree,A graft of an Imperial Nursery.In the kind Air of this newEdenblest,Percht on each bough, and Palaces their nest;No more by frighting Laws forc’d t’obscure flight,And gloomy walks, like obscene Birds of Night;Their warbling Notes likePhilomelshall sing,And like the Bird ofParadisetheir wing.ThusIsraelsHeir their ravisht Souls all fired;For all things to their ardent hopes conspired.
His very youth a Bigot Mother bred,And tainted even the Milk on which he fed.Him onely of her Sons design’d forBaalsGreat Champion ’gainstJerusalemsproud Walls;Him dipt inStygianLake, by timely craft,Invulnerable made against Truths pointed shaft.22But to confirm his early poyson’d Faith,’Twas in the cursed Forreign Tents ofGath,’Twas there that he was lost. ThereAbsolonByDavidsfatal Banishment undone,Saw their false Gods till in their Fires he burn’d,Truths Manna, forEgyptianFleshpots, scorn’d.NotDavidso; for he Faiths Champion Lord,Their Altars loath’d, and prophane Rites abhorr’d:Whilst his firm Soul on wings ofCherubsrod,And tun’d his Lyre to nought butAbrahamsGod.Thus the gayIsraelher long Tears quite dry’d,Her restor’dDavidmet in all her Pride,Three Brothers saw by Miracle brought back,LikeNoahsSons sav’d from the worlds great wrack;An unbelievingHamgraced on each hand,’Twixt God-likeShem, and piousJaphetstand.
’Tis true, whenDavid, all his storms blown o’re,Wafted by Prodigies toJordansshore,(So swift a Revolution, yet so calm)Had cur’d an Ages wounds with one days Balm;Here the returningAbsolonhis vowsWithIsraeljoyns, and at their Altars bows.Perhaps surpriz’d at such strange blessings showr’d,Such wonders shewn both t’IsraelsFaith, and Lord,His Restoration-Miracle he thoughtCould by no less thanIsraelsGod be wrought.Whilst the enlightenedAbsolonthus kneels,Thus dancing to the sound ofAaronsBells,What dazling Rays didIsraelsHeir adorn,So bright his Sun in his unclouded Morn!’Twas then his leading hand in Battle drewThat Sword thatDavidsfam’d ten thousand slew:Davidsthe Cause, butAbsolonsthe Arm.Then he could win all Hearts, all Tongues could charm:Whilst with his praise the ecchoing plains all rung,A thousand Timbrels play’d, a thousand Virgins sung;And in the zeal of every jocund Soul,AbsolonsHealth withDavidscrown’d one Bowl.
Had he fixt here, yes, Fate, had he fixt here,To Man so Sacred, and to Heav’n so dear,23What could he want that Hands, Hearts, Lives could pay,Or Tributary Worlds beneath his feet could lay?What Knees, what Necks to mount him tohisThrone;What Gems, what Stars to sparkle inhisCrown?So pleas’d, so charm’d, hadIsraelsGenius smil’d;But ohthePow’rs, by treacherous snakes beguil’d,Into a more thanAdamsCurse he run,Tasting that Fruit hasIsraelsWorld undone.Nay, wretched even below his falling state,WantsAdamsEyes to see hisAdamsFate.In vain wasDavidsHarp andIsraelsQuire;For his Conversion all in vain conspire:For though their influence a while retires,His own false Planets were th’Ascendant Fires.Heav’n had no lasting Miracle design’d;It did a while his fatal Torrent bind.AsJoshua’sWand didJordan’sstreams divide,And rang’d the watry Mountains on each side.
At this last stroke thus totally o’rethrown,Apostasie now seal’d him all her own.Here ope’d that gaping Breach, that fatal door,Which now let in a thousand Ruines more.All the bright Virtues, and each dazling Grace,Which his rich Veins drew from a God-like Race;The Mercy, and the Clemency Divine,Those Sacred Beams which in mildDavidshine;Those Royal Sparks, his Native Seeds of Light,Were all put out, and left a Starless Night.A long farewel to all that’s Great and Brave:Not Cataracts more headstrong; as the GraveInexorable; Sullen and Untun’dAs Pride depos’d; scarceLuciferdethron’dMore Unforgiving; his enchanted SoulHad drank so deep of the bewitching Bowl,Till he whose hand, withJudahsStandart, boreHer Martial Thunder to theTyrianshore,Arm’d in her Wars, and in her Laurels crown’d;Now all forgotten at one stagg’ring wound,24Falling fromIsraelsFaith; fromIsraelsCause,Peace, Honour, Int’rest, all at once withdraws:Nor is he deaf t’a Kingdoms Groans alone,But could behold ev’nDavidsshaking Throne;David, whose Bounty rais’d his glittering Pride,The Basis of his Glories Pyramide.But Duty, Gratitude, all ruin’d fall:Zeal blazes, and Oblivion swallows all.SoSodomdid both burnt and drown’d expire;A poyson’d Lake succeeds a Pile of Fire.
On this FoundationBaalslast Hope was built,The sure Retreat for all their Sallying Guilt:A Royal Harbour, where the rowling PrideOfIsraelsFoes might safe at Anchor ride;Defie all Dangers, and even Tempests scorn,ThoughJudahsGod should Thunder in the Storm.
HereIsraelsLaws, the dull Levitick Rolls,At once a clog to Empire, and to Souls,Are the first Martyrs to the Fire they doom,To make greatBaalsTriumphant Legends room.But ere their hands this glorious work can Crown,Their long-known Foe the Sanedrin must down;Sanedrins the Free-bornIsraelsSacred Right,That God-like Ballance of Imperial Might;Where Subjects are from Tyrant-Lords set free,From that wild Thing unbounded man would be;Where Pow’r and Clemency are poys’d so even,A Constitution that resembles Heav’n.So in th’united greatTHREE-ONEwe findA Saving with a Dooming Godhead joyn’d.(But why, oh why! if such restraining pow’rCan bind Omnipotence, should Kings wish more?)A Constitution, so Divinely mixt,Not Natures bounded Elements more fixt.
But to rebuild their Altars, and enstalTheir Moulten Gods, the Sanedrin must fall;25That Constellation of the Jewish Pow’r,All blotted from its Orb must shine no more;Or stampt inPharoahsdarling Mould, must quitTheir Native Beams, for a new-model’d Light;LikeEgyptsSanedrins, their influence gone,Flash but like empty Meteors round the Throne:That that new Lord mayJudahsScepter weild,To whom th’old Brickill Taskmasters must yield;Who, to erect new Temples for his Gods,Shall th’enslav’dIsraeldrive with Iron Rods;If they want Bricks for his new Walls t’aspire,To their sad cost, he’ll find ’em Straw and Fire.
All this t’effect, and their new Fabrick build,Both close Cabals and Forreign Leagues are held:ToBabylonandEgyptthey send o’re,And both their Conduct and their Gold implore.By such Abettors the sly Game was plaid;One of their Chiefs a Jewish Renegade,High-born inIsrael, oneMichalsPriest,But now inBabylonsproud Scarlet drest.’Tis to his Hands the Plotting Mandats comeSubscrib’d by the ApostateAbsolom.Nay, and to keep themselves all danger-proof,That none might track theBelialby his Hoof,Their Correspondence veil’d from prying Eyes,In Hieroglyphick Figures they disguise.Husht as the Night, in which their Plots combin’d,And silent as the Graves they had design’d,Their Ripening Mischiefs to perfection sprung.But oh! the much-loath’dDavidlives too long.Their Vultures cannot mount but from his Tomb;And with too hungry ravenous Gorges come,To be by airy Expectation fed.No Prey, no Spoil, before they see Him Dead.Yes, Dead; the Royal Sands too slowly pass,And therefore they’re resolved to break the Glass:And to ensure Times tardy dubious Call,Decree their Daggers should his Sythe forestall.For th’execrable Deed a Hireling CrewTheir Hell and They pick out; whom to make true,26An Oath of Force so exquisite they frame,Sworn in the Blood ofIsraelsPaschal Lamb.If false, the Vengeance of that Sword that slewEgyptsFirst-born, their perjur’d Heads pursue.Strong was the Oath, the Imprecation dire;And for a Viand, lest their Guilt should tire,With promis’d Paradice they cheer their way;And bold’s the Souldier who has Heav’n his pay.
But the ne’r-sleeping Providence that standsWith jealous Eyes o’re Truths up-lifted Hands;That still in itsLordIsraeltakes delight,Their Cloud by Day, and Guardian Fire by Night;A Ray from out its Fiery Pillar cast,That overlook’d their drivingJehu’s hast.
The frightedIsraelitestake the Alarm,Resolve the Traitors Sorceries t’uncharm:Till cursing, raving, mad, and drunk with Rage,InAmnonsBlood their frantick Hands engage.
Here let the Ghost of strangl’dAmnoncome,A Specter that will strike Amazement dumb;Amnonthe Proto-Martyr of the Plot,The Murder’dAmnon, their Eternal Blot;Whose too bold zeal stood like aPharosLight,Israelto warn, and track their Deeds of Night.Till the sly Foe his unseen Game to play,Put out the Beacon to secure his way.BaalsCabinet-Intrigues he open spread,The RavishtTamarfor whose sake he bled.T’unveil their Temple and expose their Gods,Deserv’d their vengeances severest Rods:Wrath he deserv’d, and had the Vial full,To lay those Devils had possest his Soul.His silenc’d Fiends from his wrung Neck they twist;Whilst his kind Murd’rer’s but his Exorcist.Here draw, bold Painter, (if thy Pencil dareUnshaking write, whatIsraelquak’d to hear,)27A Royal Altar pregnant with a LoadOf Humane Bones beneath a Breaden God.Altars so rich notMolocksTemples show;’Twas Heaven above, andGolgothabelow.Yet are not all the Mystick Rites yet done:Their pious Fury does not stop so soon.But to pursue the loud-tongu’d Wounds they gave,Resolves to stab his Fame beyond the Grave,And in Eternal Infamy to brandWithAmnonsMurder,Amnonsrighteous Hand.Here with a Bloodless wound, by Hellish Art,With his own Sword they goar his Lifeless Heart.Thus in a Ditch the butcher’dAmnonlay,A Deed of Night enough to have kept back the Day.Had not the Sun in Sacred vengeance rose,Asham’d to see, but prouder to disclose,Warm’d with new Fires, with all his posting speed,Brought Heav’ns bright Lamp to shew th’Infernal Deed.
What art thou, Church! when Faith to propagate,And crush all Bars that stop thy growing state,Thou break’st through Natures, Gods, and Humane Laws,Whilst Murder’s Merit in a Churches Cause.How much thy LadderJacobsdoes excel:Whose Top’s in Heaven like His, but Foot in Hell;Thy Causes bloody Champions to befriend,For Fiends to Mount, as Angels to Descend.
This was the stroke did th’alarm’d World surprize,And even to infidelity lent Eyes:Whilst sweatingAbsoloninIsraelpent,For fresher Air was to bleakHebronsent.ColdHebronwarm’d by his approaching sight,Flusht with his Gold, and glow’d with new delight.Till Sacred all-converting InterestTo Loyalty, their almost unknown Guest,Oped a broad Gate, from whence forth-issuing come,Decrees, Tests, Oaths, for well-sooth’dAbsolom.Spight of that Guilt that made even Angels fall,An unbarr’d Heir shall Reign: In spight of allApostacy from Heav’n, or Natures tyes,Though for his Throne aCain-built Palace rise.28No wonderHebronsuch Devotion bearsT’Imperial Dignity, and Royal Heirs;For they, whom Chronicle so high renownsFor selling Kings, should know the price of Crowns.
Here, GloriousHushai, let me mourn thy Fate,Thou once great Pillar of theHebronState:Yet now to Dungeons sent, and doom’d t’a Grave.But Chains are no new Sufferings to the Brave.Witness thy pains in six years Bonds endur’d,ForIsraelsFaith, andDavidsCause immur’d.Death too thou oft forJudahsCrown hast stood,So bravely fac’d in several Fields of Blood.But from Fames Pinnacle now headlong cast,Life, Honour, all are ruin’d at a Blast.ForAbsolonsgreatLAWthou durst explain;Where but to pry, bold Lord, was to prophane:A Law that did his Mystick God-head couch,Like th’Ark of God, and no less Death to touch.Forgot are now thy Honourable Scars,Thy Loyal Toyls, and Wounds inJudahsWars.Had thy pil’d TrophiesBabel-high, reacht Heav’n,Yet by one stroke fromAbsolonsThunder given,
True, thou hadst Law; that even thy Foes allow;But to thy Advocates, as damn’d as Thou,’Twas Death to plead it. ArtlessAbsolonThe Bloody Banner to display so soon:Such killing Beams from thy young Day-break shot;What will the Noon be, if the Morn’s so hot?Yes, dreadful Heir, the CowardHebronawe.So the young Lion tries his tender Paw.At a poor Herd of feeble Heifers flies,Ere the rough Bear, tusk’d Boar, or spotted Leopard dies.Thus flusht, great Sir, thy strength inIsraeltry:When their Cow’d Sanedrims shall prostrate lye,And to thy feet their slavish Necks shall yield;Then raign the Princely Savage of the Field.
29Yes,IsraelsSanedrin, ’twas they aloneThat set too high a Value on a Throne;Thought they had a God was Worthy to be serv’d;A Faith maintain’d, and Liberty preserv’d.And therefore judg’d, for Safety and RenownOfIsraelsPeople, Altars, Laws and Crown,Th’Anointing Drops on Royal Temples shedToo precious Showrs for an Apostates Head.Then was that great Deliberate Councel giv’n,An Act of Justice both to Man and Heav’n,Israelsconspiring Foes to overthrow,ThatAbsolonshould th’Hopes of Crowns forego.Debarr’d Succession! oh that dismal sound!A sound, at whichBaalstagger’d, and Hell groan’d;A sound that with such dreadful Thunder falls,’Twas heard even toSemiramistrembling Walls.
But hold! is this the Plots last Murd’ring Blow,The dire divorce of Soul and Body? No.The mangled Snake, yet warm, to Life they’ll bring,And each disjoynted Limb together cling.Then thusBaalswise consulting Prophets cheer’dTheir pensive Sons, and call’d the scatter’d Herd.
Are we quite ruin’d! No, mistaken Doom,Still the great Day, yes that great Day shall come,(Oh, rouse our fainting Sons, and droop no more.)A Day, whose Luster, our long Clouds blown o’re,Not all the Rage ofIsraelshall annoy,No, nor denouncing Sanedrims destroy.See yon North-Pole, and markBoötes Carr:Oh! we have those Influencing Aspects there,Those Friendly pow’rs that drive in that brightWain,Shall redeem All, and our lost Ground regain.Whilst to our Glory their kind Aid stands fast,But one Plot more, our Greatest and our Last.
Now for a Product of that subtle kind,As far above their former Births refin’d,As Firmamental Fires t’a Tapers ray,Or Prodigies to Natures common Clay.30Empires in Blood, or Cities in a Flame,Are work for vulgar Hands, scarce worth a Name.A Cake ofShew-breadfrom an Altar ta’ne,Mixt but with some Levitical King-bane,Has sent a Martyr’d Monarch to his Grave.Nay, a poor Mendicant Church-Rake-hell slaveHas stab’d Crown’d Heads; slight Work to hands well-skill’d,Slight as the Pebble thatGoliahkill’d.But to make Plots no Plots, to clear all Taints,Traitors transform to Innocents, Fiends to Saints,Reason to Nonsence, Truth to Perjury;Nay, make their own attesting Records lye,And even the gaping Wounds of Murder whole:Ifthis last Masterpiece requires a Soul.Guilt to unmake, and Plots annihilate,Is much a greater work than to create.Nay both at once to be, and not to be,Is such a Task would pose a Deity.LetBaaldo this, and be a God indeed:Yes, this Immortal Honour ’tis decreed,His Sanguine Robe though dipt in reeking Gore,With purity and Innocence all o’re,Shall dry, and spotless from the purple hue,The Miracle ofGideonsFleece outdo.Yes, they’re resolv’d, in all their foes despight,To wash their more thanEthiopTreason White.
But now for Heads to manage the Design,Fit Engineers to labour in this Mine.For their own hands ’twere fatal to employ:ShouldBaalappear, it wouldBaalsCause destroy.Alas, should onely their own Trumpets soundTheir Innocence, the jealous Ears aroundAll Infidels would the loath’d Charmer fly,And through the Angels voice the Fiend descry.No, this last game wants a new plotting Set,AndIsraelonly now canIsraelcheat.In this Machine their profest Foes must move,WhilstBaalabsconding sits in Clouds above,From whence unseen he guides their bidden way:For he may prompt, although he must not play.31This to effect a sort of Tools they find,Devotion-Rovers, an Amphibious Kind,Of no Religion, yet like Walls of SteelStrong for the Altars where their Princes kneel.Imperial not Celestial is their Test,The Uppermost,indisputablyBest.They always in the golden Chariot rod,Honour their Heav’n, and Interest their God.
Of these then subtilCalebnone more Great,Calebwho shines where his lost Father set;