Lucif. Numerous crew! answer me; What has brought you into this kingdom; and what were you in the world?

[A ghost of a beau speaks to another of the same feather.

1 Beau’s Gh. D—— me, Jack, didst ever hear so silly and impertinent a question? As if marriage was not the only cause of damnation.

[Aside.

2 Beau’s Gh. R——t me, Ned, as thou say’st, I never heard a country justice ask more mal à propos; but the devil’s an ass, and so let him pass.

The first of the first band answers the Devil.

I am an Englishman, who, after I had been a notorious cuckold, was perswaded by my wife to fight the man that made me so, and was fairly kill’d for satisfaction, as all this band that follows me were; and we are damn’d for fools as well as cuckolds.

Omnes. ’Tis true, honour and wedlock have been our ruin.

Lucif. Away with them into fools paradise, below the keeping-cullies, as the more unpardonable monsters.

[They are carry’d off, and as the next come in,
the Beaux speak.

1 Be. Gh. D—— me, Ned, didst ever know such fools as they, that could not be satisfy’d to live cuckolds, but must die so too, with a witness,

[Aside.

2 Be. Gh. R——t me, Jack, if ever I was of that fighting humour; nor did I ever fight but once, and then forc’d to it; but my stays sav’d my life, and I wore my glove that was cut in the encounter as long as ’twould hang on my hand: therefore, tho’ I knew Sir Roger Allfight kiss’d my wife, yet as long as I could sup at the Rose, and break the drawer’s head if he made not haste, or brought bad wines, or so, ’gad I let him kiss her and welcome.

[Aside.

1 Be. Gh. S——k me, Ned, I was always of thy mind, as long as I could flutter abroad in my glass coach, have my diamond snuff-box full of Orangeree or Roderigo, &c. D—— me if I car’d a rush who rode in my saddle. But mark that formal coxcomb now going to speak: lord! how fine a thing it is to be a man of wit, and what a singular figure he makes! but hark, old grey-beard begins.

Lucif. Speak you the next.

Ghost. I was a man of quality, of the same country; but my fortune being, in my youth, run out, in France for breeding, and in England by keeping, I thought in my riper years to retrieve all by marrying a city heiress; but she had by nature, so much of the mother in her, that by intriguing and equipage she soon brought me into a worse condition than before: so that, as my last refuge, I was forc’d to turn Plotter, and being discover’d, was lopp’d shorter by the head, as all this honourable tribe that follows me were.

Lucif. Away with ’em. [They are carry’d off, and, as the next are bringing to the bar, the beaux discourse again.

1 Beau. Gh. D—me, Ned, this was a worse fool than the other.

2 Beau. Gh. R—t me, Jack, vous avez raison: for I always lov’d to keep myself out of the jeopardy of action: Jack, I’d talk treason, or so; sort myself with the disaffected, and blow up the coals of their discontent, or so: but for engagements, covenants, conditions, and unlawful assemblies, ’gad they must pardon me.

[Aside.

1 Beau. Gh. Z—ns, Ned, thou and I were always one man; I could rail at the magistrates, pen a lampoon, or, at least, convey it to Julian, give penny pies to the mob to make a noise, ridicule the transactions of the government, and give squinting reflections on the king, that was my ne plus ultra; for all that I can see, we are in the best case still, Ned. But now our band advances, let us press forward, or our cause may fail.

[Aside.

2 Beau. Gh. Hell and damnation, all’s lost; for look yonder, that conceited coxcomb, my lord Flippant, presuming on his quality, has taken upon him to be our chief, and spokes-man.

[Aside.

1 Beau. Gh. S—nk me, Ned, so say I: I never knew a conceited man, but he was a fool; but let’s hear, we may put in an appeal, or a writ of error afterward, or award judgment, if our cause be ill handled.

[Aside.

O! what an admirable thing it is to be a man of parts!

Luc. Speak, thou fluttering fool, for the rest of this thy peacock-gang.

L. Flippant’s Ghost. D—me, Sir, I have been a man of the town, or rather a man of wit, and have been confess’d a beau, and admitted into the family of the rakehellonians: and, d—me, Sir, I think I am much under that dilemma at present.—— I was learn’d in the ingenious art of dumfounding; a wit I said, dear devil, I was, and it lay as a gentleman’s shou’d, most in lewdness and atheism. I married in jest, or a frolick, which you please; but as I thought a fortune, (got by cullies) I was made a cuckold in earnest; tho’ that was no grievance to me, since it only made me in the mode: nor cou’d I expect any better, since I knew she was a whore before I had her; but ’twas with my betters, and so I was contented her money should pass currant with me, where her reputation would not: but sharping was her best quality, and gaming her greatest patrimony; and she set up a basset table, and whilst I was at the groom-porter’s throwing a-main, she would be sure to set me, at home, a pair of horns. I seldom coming to my apartment, but I met some cully nobleman or other; but that which was worst, she still had a knave in her mouth, or an alpue in her tail, that carry’d away all the gain: whilst I was at Will’s coffee-house, fast’ned in controversy or poetick rhapsodies, though I had neither religion nor learning, she was sure of me ’till play-time and then too; for at five, come, Dick, says I (to a brother of the orange and cravat string) d—me, let’s us to the play: r—t me, says he, ’tis a dull one: d—me, says I, I value not the play, my province lies in the boxes, ogling my half-crown away, or running from side-box to side-box, to the inviting incognito’s in black faces, or else wittily to cry out aloud in the pit, &c. Bough, or Boyta, and then be prettily answer’d by the rest of the wits in the same note, like musical instruments tuned to the same pitch. And whilst I was thus generously employ’d, my consort had her retreat of quality, to be provided of what I fail’d in. From the play to the Rose, where we drank ’till four, or break of day; from thence to bed, where we lay ’till four or five again, so in infinitum.

1 Beau. Gh. D—me, Jack, did’st ever hear a sot spoil a good tale in the telling so?

2 Beau. Gh. Z—ns, Ned, we’re undone thro’ this scoundrel’s ignorance and nonsense: shall I speak?

1 Beau. Gh. R—t me, if thou wilt, thou may’st: but I am sure I could make more of it: for tho’ thou art a man of wit, and a good judge of poetry, and all that, r—t me, Jack, oratory is thy blind side.

2 Beau. Gh. D—me, Sir, don’t put upon your friends; for have I been bred at the university, and think myself as good a judge as you or any man alive: and, Sir, were we out of the court, I believe you would not thus have abus’d me.

1 Beau. Gh. Nay, D—me, Ned, now thou art unjust to thy friend: r—t me, to quarrel for’t, I acknowledg’d thee a man of parts, Ned, and all that.

Luc. Away with the gay sots, and because I have no plagues in hell equal to their deserts, let them be a torment to one another. Away with them.

[As they go off, the Beaus discourse.

1 Beau. Gh. Well, Ned, shall I speak before it is too late: you may depend on my excellence in oratory, ’tis my talent; I never writ billet-deux in my life, but it prevail’d with the cruel nymph: and do you think I can’t with the devil? I’ll perswade him out of his seven senses, man? d—me, I’ll make it appear to him that he is a god, and all that, man: r—t me, Ned, be not obstinate.

2 Beau. Gh. Z—ns, Sir, no more of that strain. Sir, you’re a coxcomb. What doubt my universal parts?

Luc. You with such a busy face, speak, what are you?

Here abundance of Cits, in various dresses, come forward.

Cit. Ghost. An’t please your infernal majesty, I was a right worshipful citizen of London, that famous Metropolis of England, and I have born all the honourable employments of the same, ev’n to sheriff and lord-mayor: I was long of the court of aldermen, and one of the chief spokesmen of the common-council: I made speeches, and penn’d most of the addresses. But ’tis not for being a cuckold alone, or that I was feign to cheat so many to maintain my wife’s pride and luxury, that I am damn’d with this right worshipful crew here; for those are crimes common to the rest of our brother-citizens, as well as us; but we were so mad to marry second wives, and for their sakes turn our children out of doors, (after we had bred them up in all the ease and luxury of the age) to seek their fortunes in the wide world, and left our estates to our wives at our death, who will be sure to bestow them on some silly hectoring spendthrift bully of Alsatia or other, and let the children, begot of our own bodies, starve.

Luc. Away with that rank gang of fools, as well as knaves, who cou’d so much forget nature and its necessary and known laws, as to cast off their own off-spring, to give away their substance to those that will not only misuse it, but contemn the memory of them that were their benefactors, with so great an injury to nature.

2 Cit. May it please your most noble devilship to hear me, before you give judgment upon us, and I don’t doubt, but I shall seriously, offer such reasons of our behaviour in that matter, as shall sufficiently move that ignominy your devilship was pleas’d to cast upon us. First, then, tho’ it be true, that upon my marriage, I agreed with my second spouse to turn all my children out of doors, yet I did it not ’till she or I had found some cause so to do; for some of them were undutiful, and others put tricks upon me, (as my good wife said) and others were lewd and extravagant, and some self-will’d; so that I deserted none of ’em without some fault. If they were undutiful, was I to blame to punish ’em for it? Or was it my duty to keep and maintain them, after they were of sufficient bigness to prog for themselves? The birds and beasts take care of their young no longer, than ’till they are able to care for themselves; and why should man be confin’d to more severe laws in that point than his vassal creatures? I must profess, on the word of a citizen, that I can see no reason why a man that gets his estate himself, may not give it away to whom he pleases; and none so and near deserving, as the wife of one’s bosom. What tho’ she may have slips, the witcheries and temptations of love are great to their soft sex; and if we have been so employ’d in getting, that we could not mind that other business, why should we blame them for easing us by other supplies, where we wanted power to give them.

Luc. Thou hast spoken as much to the purpose, as when in the world thou used harangue at the choice of a sheriff; and therefore I shall proceed to a singular punishment for you. Your argument of punishing your children for their undutifulness, turns here on your own head; for when they are little, you encourage their impudence: and that is a witty child with you, that can prate saucily and lewdly before he can read, and swear and catch the maid by it before seven years old; and then when you have given them their head without controul, during their childhood and minority, you punish them for the fruit of that tree which yourselves have planted, which is in itself the height of injustice; but on the contrary, you are condemn’d for breaking the laws of your maker, which you were bred in fear of, and taught to obey; and you that could punish your own flesh and blood so for nothing, without relenting, have a just judgment for being punish’d here without mercy. And as for their being lewd and extravagant, that is no plea for you, since that is the lesson you have taught ’em both by example and precept, from the time of their birth, ’till their coming to years of understanding; for you let a taylor’s daughter, with you, go in the garb of the children of a duke in the country, and even miss ketch be call’d away from the mob: your sons must keep their horses, and their whores too, before they know the use of either; and then you punish them for persevering when they are better skill’d. And as for the birds and beasts, (examples I think unworthy to be follow’d by a nobler being, or quoted as a precedent) they are so far excelling you in that point, that they educate their young in the simple course of nature, not elevating them above what’s necessary, nor leaving them, ’till they have sufficiently inur’d them to provide for themselves all that nature requires. But just contrary to the example you quote, you, all the infancy of your children, keep them from hardship and knowing how to live and provide for themselves, and then on the sudden cast them out of their nest unfledg’d, without teaching them to fly. Nor is your proud supposition, that you may dispose of your own gettings, more pious or justifiable, unless you will make your selves gods, and claim the propriety of that which you cannot carry out of the world with you, no more than you brought it in. ’Twas heaven that gave success to your endeavours, to provide for those other blessings it bestow’d upon you, of fine hopeful children; and you were, in right, but their tenant for life, to improve your substance for their good. Nor can you in reason imagine any one deserves it better; for justice and reason both will have it, that you that begot them into the world without their seeking or desires, to satisfy your own pleasures, ought to provide all you can for them that you brought thus involuntarily into the maze of fortune and the treachery of mankind. And of all in the world, you have the least reason to leave it to a wife, that not only betrays the rights of your bed, prostituting herself and your honour to rascals; but shew’d at first so little respect and love for you, as to desire so unreasonable a thing, that you should cast off all the bonds of nature, and forsake your own children, which she could not but love, if she lov’d you: for you know the proverb, love me, love my dog. Having thus therefore shewn the villainy of your crimes, ’tis fit I proceed to your just punishment, for which you are sent hither. You that have thus more than monstrously prevaricated against nature, shall want all the benefits of nature; fire you shall have, but not to give you gentle warmth from the cold of the season, (as when you liv’d and hugg’d yourself in all epicurism, whilst your children starv’d) but to scorch your wretched consciences; and continual fears of burning your goods, houses, and writings, shall attend you; to which shall be added the piercing fire of jealousy, that shall prey upon every part of you; nor shall you be without the knowledge of your wives transactions on earth and see how they mourn in sack and claret, and how they marry and whore before you are cold; how they spend that profusely, which you scrap’d together to give them, with so much injustice to your poor orphans, whose injuries shall never let you rest, but with all the fury of hell for ever torment you worse than Onan or the Sodomites: away with them, whose villainies raises a horror, even in the prince of hell and great source of wickedness.

[As they are going off, two Quakers ghosts speak.

1 Quaker’s Ghost. Ah! um!—Josiah! verily, who would have thought that Rebecca would have fallen with the ungodly so, or that your Tabitha would have let the spirit move her to play with the calves of Bethel, the wicked of Sidon, or the profane children of Moloch?

2 Ghost. By yea and by nay, Abadoniah, as thou say’st, it was more verily than could enter into the heart of man to believe. Why, there was my neighbour Sad-face, and my cousin Goggle, Nahu, Sneakphir, and [The lord said unto Moses, praise God.] was his fore-name; had they not holy sisters, as to the appearance of the flesh, for their spouses? Yet behold with them, and within the tabernacles of their mansions, instead of raising up seed to the lord among the chosen and godly, they did sacrifice to Baal with the giants of Moab. Oh Abadoniah! what a falling off was there! what a backsliding!

1 Ghost. Oh, Josiah! As thou say’st, verily, and by yea and by nay, that the spirit should move us to come to the devil for our necessaries, without a convenience. But our lord will remember our captivity in Babylon.

The lawyers push forward, and speak very urgently.

Lawyer’s Ghost. Sure, my lord, if the Decorum of any place ought to be kept, that of a court of judgment ought, and not to let a paultry cit speak before a man of the robe. But in these popish times, all law is neglected, and all its honourable professors contemn’d and postpon’d. However, my most honourable lord and patron of all that were black, I shall humbly move this honourable court, that I may at length be heard, since my cause is of so great import and concern, and in which the wisdom of this court will be highly interessed, if it should be brought in Billa vera; and it wou’d too much reflect on the impartiality of this court of judicature, to be slack in indagating into a cause of this weight and moment. My lord, before I open, I shall only premise, that I take this to be the high court of equity. Which granted, I shall begin to open.

I will confess, that the statutes in Banco Regis may prevail, and custom in the common-pleas; but humbly presume, with submission to your lordships, that this being a court of equity, it will give the [57] devil his due. But, my lord, where a precedent of the like nature may happen in a case decided by the great council of the nation, I hope it will not be foreign, if I alledge it here where it has nothing to do. The case is parallel, as I may say, my lord, considering the circumstances; that is, in short, Consideratis Considerandis, in primo Henrici primi, according to my lord Coke upon Littleton; and if your lordship will let us read, you shall find so many gross errors in the bill, and the material objections so fully answer’d, and costs, if not charges and damages. But, my lord, I do humbly suppose, that part of this bill ought rather to have been put into an indictment, and so falls not under the cognizance of this court; and that is, my lord, that we are made Felo’s de se, the causes of our own damnation, by an instrument call’d a wife, value two-pence. Therefore, my lord, if you please, let us try it upon a jury in any county your lordship shall think fit. Tho’, I think, in our case, your lordship may decide it without farther trouble; for thus I prove the [58] negative, (hoping your lordship will let me bring in a writ of error). To deny, my lord, that we are damn’d, wou’d be perfect nonsense, and against all form of law; yet that we are damn’d for our wives, I presume, does not follow. And I will prove, that it does not, so undeniably, to all that have any profound insight into the law, that I question not but your lordship will acquiesce Nemine Contradicente; for tho’ it be,

[Aloud] For tho’ I say it be true, that our wives spend a great deal of money on our clerks, Et cætera, quæ nunc perscribere longum est, and cuckolded us as often as they pleas’d, in spite of our teeth; and though I will not deny that they were as profuse as Heliogabalus, or Caligula, and as proud as Lucifer, (with submission to your lordship) yet (now comes the paradox) yet, I say, (pray mind this) we did not get money to maintain their luxury, but they maintain’d their luxury out of the money that we got: which, I humbly conceive, falls not under the same predicament, but brings us within the act of Habeas Corpus, that we may not be carry’d away into the den of ordinary cuckolds. For, to give your lordship yet a more lively representation of this matter in question, be pleas’d to reflect on another very pertinent precedent in my lord Coke, where John-a-Noakes is tenant only for life, and John-a Stiles tenant in tail——

Luc. Heyday! what, is it Midsummer-moon with mankind? what have we got here! a cuckold hornmad, prating nonsense, and salving his knavery and folly with a quirk in law, a turn of a sentence? those shams won’t take here, where there needs no fee for counsel, nor bribe for judgment. Away with him and his villainous tribe.

Lawyer’s Ghost. Nay, but, my lord, I humbly move your honour, that we may not be condemn’d, Causa indicta, that is not right or equitable: wherefore I beseech your lordship to have some regard to me, as I am a barrister of thirty years standing, and a serjeant of ten, that you wou’d be pleas’d to reflect, that tho’ I cheated the ignorant, and squeez’d and impos’d on the necessitous.—

Luc. Has not hell yet brought thee to thy senses? Away with this impertinent fellow, and all this black gang, among the rest of the most deprav’d cuckolds, but in the most deepest cavern, for whom they shall plead, in Forma Pauperis, till their lungs crack, without fees; let the

writings of their ill got estates be for their food. Scoundrels, that had no more sense, than after they had cheated so many wise and honest men, to suffer themselves to be abus’d by women! away with them, away with them.

Lawyer. As to that, my lord, I always fetch’d my dear home in her coach from her gallant, who had pawn’d her in a tavern.——

Luc. Away with them I say; what, am I not obey’d!

As they are carry’d off, they cry, O tempora! O mores!

Luc. Who art thou, with so precise a grimace?

A Parson’s Ghost. I was in the world above, most mighty king, of the reverend crew, and having a handsom wife, as most of us love, who was proud, as they generally are, my benefice (tho’ good) was too small to maintain the grandeur she affected; but I being of a good comely port, with a pair of broad shoulders, and sufficient abilities, and the man of God too boot, (which made an easy and open way for all the rest) I ventur’d to crack a commandment with some of my wealthy parishioners wives, that they being so oblig’d, (according to my text) might prevail with their husbands to be the more generous to me in supererrogatory offerings, which flow’d all into the bottomless bag of my spouse’s pride and lust; for that too, must be supply’d.

[They are carry’d off.

Luc. You, the rest of this mad foolish crew, what are you? And what the cause of your damnation?

Luc. What ragged regiment are you that lag behind your fellows? what are you the black-guard of the cuckolds?

Poet. No, royal Pluto, no, (altho’, indeed, we are the poorest cuckolds that come hither, I believe) we are of the learned rout.

Luc. Hold, hold I know your tribe of old; if you once get to repeating your works, or into the jingle of your rhimes, you’ll never have done. Away with them to old Sternhold and Hopkins, and the rest of the crambo-sparks: ye senseless scoundrels, that make wives of your mules when single, and whores of your wives when marry’d.

Luc. Clear the court, and let no more come in: the fatigue of this sitting has been enough: for my part, the follies of mankind are such, that the very hearing of them has quite turn’d my stomach for this month at least.

Porter. Great Sir, here is a throng of wild Irish, that will take no denial, but thrust in whether we will or no.

Irish. Nay, nay, my deer joy, chreest bless the sweet majestees faash indeed; poor Teague is St. Patrick’s own country-man, be chreest, and poor Teague will come into St. Patrick’s purgatory; and if there be no vacancee, indeed thee must make a vacancee.

Porter. Nay, but this is hell, and not St. Patrick’s purgatory: therefore keep back.

Irish. Boo! boo, boo, boo, boo, hoo, hoo! hell indeed! say’st thou mee deer joy! be mee shoul, and bee chreest and St. Patrick, ee was think that hee that was in the highway to hell, cou’d not miss St. Patrick’s purgatory, since there is but a wall betwixt them.

Porter. Ouns, stand back, or I’ll send you back to the Boyne, ye impudent pultroons you.

Irish. Boo, hoo, ooo: bless the sweet faash of thee indeed, poor Teague will have patience ’till his good grace will let him in indeed.

[A noise without.

Lucif. What noise is that without?

Porter. Here is a troop of Scots that swear and stare to get in, and beg they may but skulk into some cold corner of hell, (which they wou’d not know from their own country above) with their Ganymedes, from the fury of their wives, whom they hear are just following them at their heels. And then here is some thousands more from Asia, Africa, and America, push’d on with the same fear: but I’ll keep them here in the Lobby, ’till your infernal majesty is more at leisure.

Lucif. Do so,—for the horrid nauseousness of these sots have almost put me into a fit of vomiting and looseness. And now, my lords and gentlemen, that have given your attendance at this court, you may depart ’till farther orders; but tendering my health, both for your sakes and my own, I shall confer the office of my deputy on our right reverend and well-belov’d cousin Belzebub, prince of the Flies; for I am unable to undergo this fatigue any more.

Belzebub. I humbly beg your majesty wou’d excuse my age, and give me my quietus. Here is prince Satan, an able and active devil, and worthy your choice.

Satan. Good prince Belzebub, you might have spar’d your good word; for I shall beg to be excus’d, if my former services may be respected; for I had enough of mankind when I tempted Eve, she foil’d me so at my own weapon; therefore I hope your majesty will confer that troublesome employment on some devil of less quality than myself.

Lucif. So be it then, and let the mob of hell make choice of one, for I am resolv’d to trouble myself no more about them. But before we rise, let proclamation be made of a general play-day and jubilee for all the lesser and laborious rank of devils, who have been thus long continually employ’d in damning mankind; let them take their ease as long as matrimony prevails above; for now our business is much better done by woman to our hands: Or if any are so zealously inclin’d to be still busy for the good of their country, let them employ their time and talents to better purpose than formerly, in perswading the easy world against cœlibacy, by stigmatizing all that affect it with the name of whores, rogues, and hypocrites; and if that prevails, we gain our point, and widow’d Heaven may bid good-night to mankind. For if we get them into our noose, we may be sure of our purchase. Let none therefore loyter away his time in tempting the marry’d; for one woman will out-do a legion of you.

The Belgic Hero Unmask’d;

IN A

DIALOGUE

B E T W E E N

Sir Walter Rawleigh and Aaron Smith.

Smith. Why, in the first place, he deliver’d England, then just upon the brink of being devour’d by arbitrary power and popery. He won the noble battle of the Boyne, reduc’d Ireland, appeas’d the disorders of Scotland, reap’d a new harvest of glory every campaign in Flanders, and at last, after an obstinate expensive war, forc’d a haughty tyrant, who had insulted and bully’d the whole christian world for almost forty years, to clap up a peace with him upon his own terms at Ryswick, by which he was oblig’d to vomit up numberless provinces and towns, which he had dishonourably stollen from their true proprietors.

Sir Walter. And as for his personal qualities, what have you to say of them?

Smith. Whether you behold him at home or abroad, in the cabinet or the field; in fine, whether you consider him as a king, a general, a statesman, a husband, or a master, you’ll find his character uniformly bright in all these relative stations: affectionate to his queen, merciful to his subjects, liberal to his servants, careful of his soldiers, and providing, by his great wisdom, against all future contingencies that might hereafter disturb the tranquillity of Europe. But as for his munificence to his servants and favourities, I may venture to say, that few princes in history ever went so far as he.

Sir Walter. This last clause is not so great a commendation to him as you imagine.—Well, and is this all, for I wou’d not willingly interrupt you, ’till you have gone the full length of your panegyrick?

Smith. ’Tis all I think needful to say upon the occasion, and enough, in my opinion, to establish his reputation to to all succeeding ages.

Sir Walter. Let us carefully examine the several particulars; and when we have so done, we shall be able to determine on what side the truth lies—Imprimis, you tell me he deliver’d England from tyranny and popish superstition: but was there no other way of accomplishing his deliverance, but by sending a certain relation to grass, and wounding the monarchy in so tender a part, which had suffer’d so terribly in the late unnatural rebellion of 41? If what one of the ancient fathers says, be true, that the whole world is not worth the saving, at the expence of a single lye, surely Great Britain, which makes so small a part of the universe, hardly deserv’d to be deliver’d from an imaginary ruin with so much perjury, infidelity, and ingratitude. Besides, he solemnly protested in his declaration, that he had no intention to make himself king, yet he excercis’d the regal power the very moment he landed: so that unless there had been a crown in the case, I am afraid he would hardly have cross’d the water to rescue the church of England.

Smith. This is indeed what his enemies and some envious people have objected to him.

Sir Walter. Nothing of that can be laid to my charge, who was never known to your hero either Beneficio or Injuria; but as I still preserve an invincible affection for my native country, my zeal for the welfare of that, makes me assume this freedom. To be plain with you then, I can hardly believe he had any extraordinary concern for the prosperity of England, upon whom he threw the greatest burden of the war; whose troops he suffer’d to fight without their pay, in Flanders, at the same time when a parcel of unworthy foreigners had store of gold and silver in their pockets. Neither can any man perswade me he had the least affection for the royal family, from which he was descended, who suffer’d such numberless invectives and libels to be publish’d against his royal grandfather, both his uncles, and, in short, the whole family of the Stuarts, yet never call’d any of the authors or printers to an account for’t during the whole course of his reign.

Smith. Aye, but a hero, you know, has other business to mind, than the bagatelles of the press.

Sir Walter. And yet this hero could condescend to mind these bagatelles, as you call them, with a witness, whenever they were levell’d against himself or his favourites. But to proceed,—can any one in his senses believe, that this deliverer ever set the monarchy and true constitution of England to heart, under whose reign all the democratical treatises, both of this and the last age, were not only publish’d with impunity, but the abettors of such villainous doctrine, thought the only persons that were in the true interest of the nation, and deserving to be preferr’d? Was England so utterly destitute of able generals, that a regicide, proscrib’d by act of parliament, must be sent for over to head our forces in Ireland?

Smith. You’ll never leave off harping upon this string.

Sir Walter. And lastly, have we not very violent reasons to suspect, that he never had any true hearty concern for the protestant interest, whatever he pretended to the contrary, who so notoriously sacrific’d it at the treaty of Ryswick; who, to enable him to carry on the late revolution against his uncle and father-in-law, enter’d into a league; one of the first articles of which, was, to oblige the king of France to do justice to the usurpations of the Roman see? And lastly, who, if he had no aversion, had certainly no affection for the church of England, the support, as well as ornament of the whole reformation, which evidently appear’d by his bestowing its best preferments upon illos quos pingere nola, a sett of moderate lukewarm gentlemen, that were willing (good men) to throw up the constitution, whenever their enemies should ask them the question. What shall I say of others, that were advanc’d for no other merit, but because they had been justly punish’d in former reigns for their seditious practices, or descended from Oliverian parents; or lastly, because they held antimonarchical and antihierarchical doctrine, both in pulpit and press, which they honestly call’d free-thinking?

Smith. Nay, this is mere calumny; for can any thing but the blackest envy presume: to attack him upon the score of religion?

Sir Walter. For once I’ll spare his religion, yet ’tis certain his ministers had not the least tincture of it. To the eternal honour of his reign, be it observ’d, all the Socinian treatises that stole into the world in the late accursed times of licentiousness and disorder, were fairly reprinted, and these, together with the modern improvements of Deism, fold in the face of the sun, without the least check or discountenance from any at the helm: ’twas come to that pitch at last, that a man might better call the divinity of our Saviour into question, than the legality of that revolution; and safer insult the ashes of king James the 1st, Charles the martyr, and the whole royal line, than attack such a lew’d, perjur’d, infamous scoundrel as Oates. ’Tis a general maxim, that the court always steers its course ad Exemplum Cæsaris; and that a shrewd guess may be made of a prince’s morals, by those of his ministers. If this observation holds good, a man would find himself strangely tempted to say some rash things of your monarch, which good manners and decency oblige me to pass over in silence.

Smith. But still you say nothing of Ireland.

Sir Walter. Far be it from me to do detract in the least from any man’s actions: But this, I think, I may affirm, without the least suspicion of malice, that the exploit of the Boyne, every thing consider’d, is not altogether so miraculous as his flattering divines and courtiers would represent it; for, after all, where was the wonder, that a well-disciplin’d regular army should defeat an unfortunate dispirited monarch, with none but a few raw, unpractis’d, naked troops about him? and then his giving the forfeited estates there to his minions, in open contradiction to what he had promised the parliament, does not seem to argue so great a concern for keeping his word. As for Scotland, the subversion of episcopacy, and murder of the Glencow-men, (not to mention the perpetuating of the convention, during his whole reign, and by that means depriving the country of electing proper members) will, I believe, look so frightful in future story, that few of your heroe’s flatterers will mention the administration of that kingdom to his credit.

Smith. Well then, but Fanders?

Sir Walter. I thank you for reminding me of it. I am of opinion then, that, bating Namure, he might have put all the glorious harvests he yearly reap’d there, into his eye, and not have prejudic’d his royal sight in the least. However, as I know full well what a mighty advantage one powerful prince, that commands by his own single authority, has over a many-headed confederacy, where all are commanders I scorn to insist upon this point. For this reason I will not enumerate, nor enlarge upon the constant ill success that everlastingly attended him in Flanders, but come to the peace of Ryswick, which was his own proper act and deed. And here ’tis worth our observing, that by his leaving the poor emperor in the lurch, the city of Strasburg unluckily continu’d in the French hands; and that either out of want of politicks or a zeal for their religion, he made no stipulations for the German Protestants, nor took the least care to have them restor’d to those churches, of which they had been unjustly dispossess’d in the war.

Smith. Well, but necessity, you know, may make a man sometimes act contrary to his inclination.

Sir Walter. Why then did his parasites give out, That he was the controller of the peace, and forc’d the French king to accept of it upon his own terms.—But not to mention a thousand other things that might be said upon this occasion, for I begin to grow weary of the subject, to stop my mouth for good and all, and convince thee how far superior in all the arts of governing the immortal Elizabeth was to thy taciturn Hero, I’ll first give thee a short sketch of her golden reign, and afterwards honestly and impartially shew thee a prospect of the other:

Smith. With all my heart, proceed.

Sir Walter. As my mistress had a true English heart, and made the prosperity of her people the only business of her life, she suffer’d none of her ministers to crave to themselves extravagant fortunes out of the publick purse. Tho’ foreigners flock’d into her dominions as a certain asylum, yet she never encourag’d them to the detriment of her native subjects, nor imploy’d them in foreign embassies, nor admitted them into her councils: her affairs being manag’d with equal prudence and integrity, and encouragements properly distributed, no wonder she was so fortunate in all her attempts. Thus we find she supported the protestants in France against the oppression of the Guises, and so well assisted the Dutch in the infancy of their republick, that Philip II of Spain, with all his forces, was not able to reduce them. She was so far from bellowing her royal favours upon the sectaries, that she suppress’d their growing insolence with wholesome laws, and was as careful to see them put in Execution. She could display all her father’s magnificence, when there was a proper occasion to exert it; at other times, she observ’d a strict parsimony, equally advantageous to her own subjects, and easy to herself. The establish’d church flourish’d so well under her auspicious administration, that England never saw so glorious a constellation of reverend bishops and learned divines, as in her reign. She retrieved the honour of the Exchequer, and manag’d her payments so wisely, that her people thought their money as safe in her coffers as in their own.—— Now, your deliverer’s reign was the exact reverse of this happy scene. Schism and faction advanc’d, hypocrisy and dulness, under the disguise of reformation, promoted to the highest honours, deism propagated, the true genuine sons of the church discourag’d, foreigners admitted into our private councils, trade neglected, our narrow seas daily insulted, the publick impoverish’d, the treasury exhausted and pillag’d by insatiable cormorants, the reputation of our arms decay’d and sunk, the sea-man starv’d, the soldiers paid with paper; in short, nothing but ill management and poverty at home, and infamy abroad.—— And this I think is sufficient to shew you, that you were mightily mistaken, when you compar’d you know who to the immortal Elizabeth.

The End of the Second Volume.