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The fidler's fling at roguery

(Canto verace odioso.) In several canto's. to be successively continued [by Edward Ward]

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Talibus attonitus Visis ac Voce deorum. Virg. Æne.

I am not mad, most noble Festus. Acts xxvi. Ver. 25.

Fairly to state the Case, we must
Tell you what 'twas gave that Disgust
That Th'Student into Limbo thrust.
Then, very far from being Mad,
It happen'd that The Fidler had

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Seen a strange Vision, in his Bed:
And that's the Truth; what e're be said.
One Summer's Morning, as He lay;
His Eyes wide open and broad Day,
A lovely Youth with awful Mein
At the Bed's Foot by Him was seen
Smiling upon Him, as He lay,
As if He h'd something kind to say.
At that The Student, in a Maze,
Flung back his Curtains keen to gaze;
And saw a beauteous youthful Face,
With flowing Locks, and easy Grace:
Whose wishful Looks did represent,
The eager Message, Sure, He meant
And was on to The Fidler sent.
But while the Man, all terrify'd,
Shifted, and peer'd, from Side to Side,

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The Youth gave an amazing Start
And darted on The Fidler's Heart.
But by a most stupendous Might
Was metamorphos'd in the Flight,
And, in a very Breath, became
A rapid Eagle:—if the same.
For, in the Twinkling of an Eye,
Like gushing Waters did He fly;
And pitch't an Eagle boldly chest,
Directly on The Student's Breast;
He fondly cover'd and caress't.
With hov'ring Wings, and wanton Head,
He turn'd thereon, and then He stay'd;
Sat calmly down, and rested there,
With a delightful comely Air;
Whose bright dunn Feathers lovely were.
Gracefully spreading then his Tail,
Strait it became a Coat of Mail;

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Cov'ring The Fidler's Breast; Apparel
Made up of bright Steel Pistol-Barrels:
Like smaller Organ-Pipes so bold,
Polish't and glitt'ring above Gold:
Waving his Head, then, strait his Eye
Was sweetly fix't toward the Sky:
Then He The Fidler views; and then
His Eyes are upwards fix't again:
Then, with a couching fond Embrace,
He cover's Fid; Breast, Arms, and Face,
As if designing to adhort
The Man to make his best Effort,
To work his way up to the Skies,
By being bravely Good and Wise:
And, after Proofs of Virtue given,
To seek his chief Reward in Heaven.
A Sight so strange rais'd Jealousy
'Twixt Fear and Curiosity.

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Whence Fid, with deep Ejaculations,
Amidst his awful Consternations,
Forcing the Curtains open wide
(That Truth or Fancy mought be try'd)
The more his Splendours He espy'd:
That King of Birds, gay as a Queen,
With a caressing comely Mein.
Whence, seiz'd with a deep panick Fear,
Feeling some ghostly Power near,
Fid, taking to extatick Prayer,
To rouse his Mind from Fears and Care
Sternly besought of God Relief
Sufficient to dispel his Grief.
Then, starting up in's Bed, to try
What might be in this Prodigy,
His Eagle with a ghostly Might
First couching down, then rais'd upright
Like Lightning, flash'd away in Flight.

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The Fidler now, tho' keen to gaze,
Saw Him no more:—But, in a Maze,
Sat ruminating, in a Fright,
The meaning of so strange a Sight.
So strange, tho' nothing understood,
The Thoughts on't fir'd The Fidler's Blood:
That, from that Hour without Controul,
He felt a strange Warmth through his Soul.
For, as He went, large Rays of Light
Seem'd always streaming from his Sight.
He saw, too, when He turn'd his Head
All that beheld Him seem'd afraid;
The keener Aspect of his Eyes
Striking Beholders with Surprize:
And these his præternatural Rays
Continued with Him many Days.
The Thoughts, Tho', of so strange a Sight,
Still kept The Fidler in a Fright,
And sorely pusled Day and Night.

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While, many Nights, A certain Star
Pointed A famous Conqueror
So strong in's Thoughts, do what He cou'd,
It seem'd to call Him forth to Good;
And to trace Virtue:—tho' in Blood.
Affected thus with Apprehension
Of some strange Turn, from Fate's Intention:
Fid went to ask A clever Sir,
Cloath'd with a publick Character,
A Question (He own's very odd,
But yet He think's inspir'd by God)
Relating to his KING and LAND;
Ush'ring it in with A Demand:
Perhaps design'd, by bare Proposing,
(Altho' th'Occasion of Exposing
The Fidler to much Ridicule)
A Means to bring Him in To Rule,

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Which shou'd it do,—'Tis probable
There may be strange Effects o' 't still:
(Tho' th'Answer and the Explication
Seem'd quite to dash Fid's Expectation:)
For what is in The Fidler's Heart
Pow'r and Time only can impart.
Because (To wave Bombast Rehearsal,)
He find's his Aims all Universal;
And He's the very Man He's quoted:
To Poor and Publick All-devoted.
For Ever was his Bent of Mind
Prone to the Wellfare of Mankind;
Nor did He ever find his Itches
Were after Power to get Riches;
But To do Justice:—and to put
A strict Distinction (as All ought)
Between what's Worthy and What's not.

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Whence 'tis, He think's, his Question wa'n't
Prophane, Tho't seem extravagant.
Nor know's He why He singl'd out,
Of all Men, Him He did; Without
Some Secret Pow'r had urg'd Him to't.
Wherein He acted (if't can be
And ever Man did) passively.
'Tis true, H'expected from his strange
Vision a most surprising Change:
And that his Eagle did import,
His Risquing hard,—and Rising for't.
But when, or whence, He knew no more
Than He does yet,—now He's so poor;
Yet's in the same Mind as before.
For, Had this from Distemper been,
From th'Cause th'Effects wou'd have been seen;

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And growing worse and worse, besure,
He h'd needed Med'cines for a Cure;
Whereas, He never took one Grain,
Wou'd Le---d---n Doctors ne're so fain.
No: Nor yet has He, to this Hour,
And yet's as well as e're before;
And was, before his Vision, too
As Compos Sui as Any of you.
That's—In a perfect State of Health,
Till Eagle-lanc'd by Ghostly Stealth.
Tho', Had it been some Visitation
From th'Hand of God,—for Castigation;
What Plea can be for sly Pretences
To ruin Folks for Loss of Senses?
Now, Be't as't will:—Fid's going thither
(By Choice, or Impulse, Choose You whether;)
Was, Quantum novimus, Th'Occasion
Of all that subsequent Invasion
Of British-Right, in Foreign Nation,

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Enhaunc'd with grossest Aggravations,
Against the well-known Law of Nations.
For TH'COURTLY 'SQUIRE, to whom He went,
Not smoaking what The Student meant,
Resolv'd his Question to resent.
And b'cause The Fidler miss't a Bow,
So “Die He must,—no matter How.
For THAT was all the Reason why
There needed such Barbarity,
T'have Him so cruelly demolish'd:
(This comes of being too rough polish'd.)
But, sure, a Prince's Goodness is
Much stain'd by such like Blemishes,
Eclips't and lost where H's M---n---st---y
Dare wanton 't thus in Cruelty;
With a so scandalous Design,
Imperiously to undermine,

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A Native's Right in Foreign Land,
As if done by his King's Command;
Whence King and Country are disgrac'd,
By wanton Tyranny barefac'd.
Thus practising Abominations,
To bring on needless Desolations,
To th'Scandal of all Christian Nations:
Inveighling Some To truck their Faith,
To mangle a poor Man to death,
To gratify a Wanton's Wrath.
No Fool in Politicks, perhaps,
Yet, sure, There may come After-Claps.
As there's a God above, that will,
Bring Him t'Account for all that Ill,
He h's caus'd—To gratify his Will.
'Tis true The 'Squire knew not the Reason
Why Th'Fidler did not bow in Season,
Yet,—sure, ill Breeding is no Treason;

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And now We'll tell You whence it came,
Then judge if He's so much to blame,
That He, for seeming too unpolish'd,
Must be so cruelly demolish'd.
The Fidler, then, got int' a Palace,
Thought not of Compliment but Solace.
For's Head was full of mighty Things,
(As serving honest States and Kings:)
But all his Toes had lost their Skins.
Besides—He scarce cou'd fetch his Breath,
He felt such Throbbing: As if Death
Approach'd, Or, As if Life was struggling
To cure the treach'rous World of Jugling:
And, tho' so tir'd, and all in Sweat,
He ne're sat down, (To ease his Feet)
But, just one Moment,—To look Great.
But wheel'd and wheel'd about the Room,
Till Excellency there shou'd come:

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Who', Tho' Fid ask'd for Board and Bed, Sir,
Found that He well knew what He said, Sir;
And gravely gave a handsome Answer,
As a good Statesman shou'd and can, Sir;
(And w'll own, herein, Fid's no Romancer.)
He ey'd the Sash about his Trunk,
And thought perhaps The Student Drunk;
Then Th'Book in's Breast: and chance, That mought
Confirm his Thoughts, beyond all Doubt;
And force Him to conclude, with Speed,
Sure! This Man's Drunk, or Mad indeed,
That comes Here with so little Heed.
And Thence it was, as We suppose,
The Student lost Beds, Books, and Cloaths.
For, Fid retiring, very lame,
No sooner to his Colledge came,
But He h'd a Pennance for the same.

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And yet, Tho' He was haul'd about,
As if a Madman:—There's no doubt,
THE LORD'S WAYS ARE PAST FINDING OUT.
However, being deem'd so bad,
It was resolv'd, On's dying Mad,
Shou'd go Beds, Books, and all He had.
Because a Party then attack't,
And doom'd Him to be thus ransack't,
That have their Brains for ever rack't
To keep still working up Confusion,
Till proper Time for Blood-Effusion:
A PARTY ever glad to join
All British Rights to undermine:
(And with an Envoy too!—That's fine.
The Rights too of all freeborn Men,
TO BRING 'EM TO BE SLAVES AGAIN.

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Sworn Enemies to Liberty,
Ever promoting Tyranny:
Whence, any Thing That best amuse's
The Publick, is much for their Uses.
Hence 'twas so readily They join'd
To help to cure a Student's Mind,
By's being ill us'd and confin'd:
That, with a Cloud of noisy Pother
About a Trifle, They mought smother,
And keep still darker, Their Design
Establishments to undermine.
This Party laugh's, The 'Squire pursue's
With Rigour his determin'd Views:
Eager upon demolishing
A Man, for want of Polishing:
Accordingly concert's his Measures,
With Help of Tr---trs and his Tr---sures,

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To execute a Scheme They laid,
To have A Briton's Right betray'd:
(For which The Tr---trs well were paid.)
First, To report The Man for Mad:
And then aver his Case so bad,
That Th'Rector ought, To forecome Danger,
To tie Him up to Rack and Manger:
Then—Tho' not Mad, when once They'd said so,
To take Care that He shou'd be made so.
No sooner then The Plot's agreed,
But t'Execution They proceed:
When, like the grossest Villany,
All's to be done clandestinely:
And, First, They must (To break through Fences)
Hatch, for a Blind, some smooth Pretences,
To prove Their Student out of's Senses.

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Next, must the br---b'd and chief Aggressors,
Take Care to Hood-wink The Assessors:
All Those, at least, that wou'd n't join
A Stranger's Right to undermine;
And Student's Privilege:—when sold
For such a handsome dab of Gold.
These must be so impos'd upon
That They must never know what's done:
But from a close contriv'd Tradition,
Still bamm'd upon 'em, by Physician
More heathenish than old Magician.
Whence, To be sure, They w'd say and do,
What Th'Others wou'd persuade 'em to.
Thus joining R---ges implicitly
They mischief'd in Simplicity.
The Scheme then, thus far dress't, They thought
Time by The Fore-Lock must be caught:

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And, That their Skits might not be blown,
They bang Reports about The Town
Their Student is a Madman grown:
When, To delude The Rabble-Rout,
And To remove all future Doubt,
They swear their Books all make it out.
Wherein no Man half so officious,
As young Professor lame and vicious.
Who, and the Rest so play'd their Game,
To Th'Student's Ears it never came,
Till He perceiv'd how He was snar'd:
(Anon you'll hear, too, how He far'd.)
The Vision, Tho',—e're since He saw't,
Had fill'd The Fidler full of Thought:
Whence, very pensive, and sedate,
He w'd walk Abroad, To ruminate,
And, when too hot, He w'd wipe his Pate.

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This, by some sly Philosophers,
And br---b'd Time-serving Sophisters,
Was term'd all Frenzy and Delusion,
Certain Effects of an Illusion:
Who, from gross Self-Conceit maintain,
All They can't understand is vain:
Thus They're, by being blind, prophane:
Accounting thus for all They hint,
“Effects are to their Causes link't:
(While oft their Guess ha's nothing in't.)
For, Tho' that Axiom be most certain,
Their Inferences are uncertain:
When Low'ring Things to humane Sense,
(Because a Myst'ry give's Offence)
Bring's a fallacious Consequence;
And Premisses, when misapply'd,
By The Conclusions are deny'd:

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However Sparks sophistical
Sneer at, and Jeer, Things mystical,
By Quirks and Turns atheistical.
Whence (By an awkard Application,
And positive Asseveration,)
They oft graft Errors upon Truth:
From Fancy, Pride, and Forms, forsooth.
Boasting their Learning comprehend's,
A Reason for what e're God send's:
(Thus blasphemous for lucrous Ends!)
That, What exceed's their haughty Reason,
Strait prompts 'em to atheistick Treason.
For They'll explode, or mutilate
To bring 't within Reach of their Pate;
As if Things extraordinary,
Must dwindle down, Or else must vary,
To fit a shallow School-Vagary.

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Then stigmatise all That gainsay 'em,
As 'f Owning Truth was To betray 'em:
When after all their Pothers still,
Sure, Truth is Truth, tho' conceiv'd ill;
Tho' Mortals are so at a Loss
To strange Effects to find a Cause,
What's Fact is Truth—and will be Poz.
Sure then 'tis dangerously rash,
With Nick-Names barbarous and harsh,
To slur the signal Acts of God;
Because by Them not understood:
To God thus boldly give The Lie,
Because They ha'n't The Reason why:
What horrid arch Impiety!
But, Tho' They dare do so, Th'Effects,
Will shortly shew the vast Defects,
And Fondness of such Intellects:

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When They with Shame must truckle, still,
And Arts resign to Th'Divine Will.
Learning and Reason then must bow,
The Will of God, They must allow,
Act's many Things They know not how.
And so it is infallibly,
If ever was a Mystery.
Eldad and Medad tho' They went
Not to the Tabernacle, tho' sent,
E'en in The Camp did prophesy:
And what but That the Reason why?
Let 'em tell What else (if They can)
Turn'd Saul into another Man?
And made all, irresistably,
Saul's Messengers thrice prophesy?
What else made Saul pull off his Cloaths,
And sacred Majesty expose,

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To lay down naked, Day and Night,
In Samuel's and The Prophets Sight?
Dare They pronounce, Because unclad,
The Lord's Anointed to be mad?
Or call, from proud vain Inferences,
The King of Israel out of's Senses?
Or any Prophets of The Lord
B'cause naked, Mad? tho' inspir'd of God?
Can such account for any Vision,
From Causes and Effects Cohesion,
Better than by a bold Derision?
But, Not t'insist on Inspiration,
Know They the Reason o'th' Creation,
With all their Books and Observation?
Shall Such then censure The Creator,
That can't near comprehend The Creature?
How lamely do They All account
For many ('mongst the vast Amount)

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Effects (tho' daily felt by all)
From Causes meerly Physical?
Instead of giving Satisfaction,
Their Guesses breed but more Distraction;
The Axiom's puzzl'd by fresh doubt,
The more They strive to make it out.
Can They explain what make's The Sun
When at the Solstice to return?
Or What 'tis give's that Paradox
'T always observe's at Th'Æquinox?
What Cause can They assign for 't, still,
More Than a Fidler at his Will?
Must They not end i'th' Will of God?
And when They come to That—'t's allow'd.
Are there not Mysteries of Nature
Found in each individual Creature?
So great, The Learned own, The more
They find The more They h've to explore:
(Matter ha's so much in her Store.)

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And, if The Fidler shou'd n't know 'em,
Go, talk with BOERHAAVE—and He w'll show 'em:
He, without looking on his Book,
Will con You o'er Boyle, Liewen-Hoek,
Newton, Ruys, Derham, and The Rest,
That make God's Works more manifest:
And, Get but Once amongst his Store,
He w'll shew You Them and many more;
And (if You'll ask Him) reach their Book,
And shew You—if They have mistook.
Here shall You find a vast Amount
Of Things for which Man can't account;
More than by Owning “'Tis so—Because
Th'Almighty ha's prescrib'd such Laws.
For, howsoe're They fain wou'd gloss,
They find Themselves still at a Loss,
And all their Learning but meer Dross:

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Whene're They dare (To win Applause)
Assign for't any other Cause.
For much God Will's and Work's, no doubt,
By Ways beyond all finding out.
But, 'T's needless to attempt to show It,
For, Tho' Fools babble, Wise Men know It.
Since then most of God's Creature's can
Confound The Knowledge of vain Man,
How vastly arrogant are Those
That wou'd so saucily impose,
To reduce Acts spiritual
To Causes meerly natural?
Thus make a Myst'ry none, To mend it,
That Humane Sense may comprehend it.

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Blaspheming Truths, if mystical,
By Quirks and Turns sophistical;
Or, what is worse, atheistical.
Altho' Th'Effect's more surely wrought,
By Ways above all Humane Thought,
When There's no Reason can be given,
More than That 'tis The Will of Heaven,
Than where Man ha's all Evidences
That can b'afforded by his Senses.
As He's incapable to know
What God can Work—and much more How.
Mortals may rack their foggy Brains,
But can't augment, with all their Pains;
Nor can all Universities
One Atom stretch their Faculties
Above their nat'ral Comprehension;
Because confin'd by God's Intention.

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As Powers limited are given
To ev'ry Creature under Heaven.
Ay, And, Besure, 'tis so, likewise,
With ev'ry Creature 'bove The Skies,
According to Their Essences,
That God's Word rule's, as 't doe's The Seas:
Whose Limits all The Art of Man
Can't make 'em to surpass one Span.
Shall then poor Earth-Worm Mortals dare yet,
Deny The Effects of God's own Spirit?
And arrogantly forge a Cause
For all Effects, from Nature's Laws?
And fondly for't Themselves applause?
And then enlarge upon Th'Effects,
To brag of their fine Intellects?
Alas, These are but meer Pretences,
To gull The Publick of their Senses:

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Just for a Blind, to serve a Turn,
That They, perhaps, more Br---bs may earn;
Oft terming Sacred Truths Distraction;
To serve some bold hot-headed Faction:
Was not Th'Apostle Paul, That acted
Such Wonders, said to be distracted?
Was not The Prince of Life, The Word,
The Son of God, Himself, our Lord,
Who by his Miracles confounded
All Philosoph's that then abounded,
E'en while by Their ownselves surrounded,
Term'd a Wine-Bibber, charg'd with Evil,
Said to be Mad—and have a Devil?
If Things are so then, as we say,
Truths bright and plain as the Noon-Day,
That Saints nor Atheists dare say nay:

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Why, pray, shou'd Fid be thought to chatter,
Or inconsistently to smatter?
Since Spirit's so much above Matter.
And, If created Spirits are,
Say what God's Spirit is Who dare.
Wherefore Then shou'd The Student's Case
(Forlorn as 'tis) not find a Place,
'Mongst Men of Wisdom and of Grace?
And even yet—(For all 't's Suspence)
Why mayn't it have it's Consequence?
A Vision shou'd n't be conceal'd,
Where The Lord's Arm ha's been reveal'd.
However—Now, To let it go,
We'll e'en refer it to Time to show
If't ha's a Meaning to't or no.

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And passing over many Things
Relating to Church, States, and Kings,
Hieroglyphickly transacted
In zealous Furys, term'd distracted,
While in The HAGUE The Fidler staid;
And how his Reck'ning there was paid:
(Including Glasses ten He broke,
As if with a prophetick Stroke)
And what by Impulse He perform'd,
At which The Landlord and 's Maid storm'd,
We now shall enter on the Story,
For Le---d---n Academy's Glory:
And the due Honour of that Rector
Of Students Then so great a Hector,
Instead of Privilege-Protector:
And tell How, there arriv'd, deceiv'd
And grand The Student was receiv'd.
This we'll attempt next To discuss,
Then Take 't as 't is—it follows thus.