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83

PINDARIC ODES


85

UPON AN HYPOCRITICAL NONCONFORMIST

I

There's nothing so absurd, or vain,
Or barbarous, or inhumane,
But if it lay the least Pretence
To Piety and Godliness,
Or tender-hearted Conscience;
And Zeal for Gospel-Truths profess,
Does sacred instantly commence;
And all, that dare but question it, are strait
Pronounc'd th' Uncircumcis'd, and Reprobate:
As Malefactors, that escape, and fly
Into a Sanctuary for Defence,
Must not be brought to Justice thence,
Although their Crimes be ne'er so great and high;
And he, that dares presume to do't,
Is sentenc'd and deliver'd up
To Satan, that engag'd him to't,
For vent'ring wickedly to put a Stop
To his Immunities and free Affairs,
Or meddle saucily with theirs,
That are employ'd by him; while he and they
Proceed in a religious and a holy Way.

II

And as the Pagans heretofore
Did their own Handyworks adore,
And made their Stone and Timber Deities,
Their Temples, and their Altars of one Piece,
The same Outgoings seem t' inspire
Our modern self-will'd Edifier,

86

That out of Things as far from Sense, and more,
Contrives new Light and Revelation,
The Creatures of th' Imagination,
To worship and fall down before;
Of which his crack'd Delusions draw
As monstrous Images and rude,
As ever Pagan, to believe in, hew'd;
Or Madman in a Vision saw;
Mistakes the feeble Impotence,
And vain Delusions of his Mind,
For spiritual Gifts and Offerings,
Which Heaven, to present him, brings;
And still, the further 'tis from Sense,
Believes it is the more refin'd,
And ought to be receiv'd with greater Reverence.

III

But as all Tricks, whose Principles
Are false, prove false in all Things else,
The dull and heavy Hypocrite
Is but in Pension with his Conscience,
That pays him for maintaining it
With zealous Rage and Impudence,
And as the one grows obstinate,
So does the other rich and fat;
Disposes of his Gifts and Dispensations,
Like spiritual Foundations,
Endow'd to pious Uses, and design'd
To entertain the Weak, the Lame, and Blind,
But still diverts them to as bad, or worse,
Than others are by unjust Governors:
For, like our modern Publicans,
He still puts out all Dues,
He owes to Heaven, to the Devil to use,
And makes his godly Interest great Gains;
Takes all, the brethren (to recruit
The Spirit in him) contribute
And, to repair and edify his spent
And broken-winded outward Man, present
For painful holding forth against the Government.

87

IV

The subtle Spider never spins,
But on dark Days, his slimy Gins;
Nor does our Engineer much care to plant
His spiritual Machines,
Unless among the Weak and Ignorant,
Th' Inconstant, Credulous, and Light,
The Vain, the Factious, and the Slight,
That in their Zeal are most extravagant:
For Trouts are tickled best in muddy Water;
And still the muddier he finds their Brains,
The more he's sought, and follow'd after;
And greater Ministrations gains;
For talking idly is admir'd,
And speaking Nonsense held inspir'd;
And still, the flatter and more dull
His Gifts appear, is held more powerful:
For Blocks are better cleft with Wedges,
Than Tools of sharp and subtle Edges;
And dullest Nonsense has been found
By some to be the solid'st, and the most profound.

V

A great Apostle once was said
With too much Learning to be mad;
But our great Saint becomes distract,
And only with too little crackt;
Crys moral Truths and human Learning down,
And will endure no Reason, but his own.
For 'tis a Drudgery and Task,
Not for a Saint, but Pagan Oracle,
To answer all Men can object, or ask;
But to be found impregnable,
And with a sturdy Forehead to hold out,
In spight of Shame or Reason resolute,
Is braver than to argue and confute.
As he, that can draw Blood, they say,
From Witches, takes their magic Pow'r away:

88

So he, that draws Blood int' a Brother's Face,
Takes all his Gifts away, and Light, and Grace.
For while he holds, that nothing is so damn'd
And shameful, as to be asham'd,
He never can b' attack'd,
But will come off; for Confidence well back'd,
Among the weak and prepossest,
Has often Truth with all her Kingly Pow'r opprest.

VI

It is the Nature of late Zeal,
'Twill not be subject, nor rebel,
Nor left at large, nor be restrain'd,
But where there's something to be gain'd;
And that b'ing once reveal'd defies
The Law with all its Penalties;
And is convinc'd, no Pale
O' th' Church can be so sacred as a Jail.
For as the Indians Prisons are their Mines;
So he has found are all Restraints
To thriving and free-conscienc'd Saints;
For the same Thing enriches that confines;
And, like to Lully, when he was in hold,
He turns his baser Mettals into Gold;
Receives returning and retiring Fees
For holding-forth, and holding of his Peace,
And takes a Pension to be Advocate,
And standing Counsel 'gainst the Church and State
For gall'd and tender Consciences;
Commits himself to Prison, to trepan,
Draw in, and spirit all he can;
For Birds in Cages have a Call,
To draw the wildest into Nets,
More prevalent and natural,
Than all our artificial Pipes and Counterfeits.

VII

His slipp'ry Conscience has more Tricks
Than all the juggling Empirics,

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And ev'ry one another contradicts;
All Laws of Heav'n and Earth can break,
And swallow Oaths, and Blood, and Rapine easy;
And yet is so infirm and weak,
'Twill not endure the gentlest Check,
But at the slightest Nicety grows queasy;
Disdains Controul, and yet can be
No where, but in a Prison, free;
Can force it self, in spight of God,
Who makes it free as Thought at Home,
A Slave and Villain to become,
To serve its Interests abroad.
And though no Pharisee was ere so cunning
At tithing Mint and Cummin;
No dull Idolater was ere so flat
In Things of deep and solid Weight;
Pretends to Charity and Holiness,
But is implacable to Peace,
And out of Tenderness grows obstinate.
And though the Zeal of God's House eat a Prince
And Prophet up (he says) long since,
His cross-grain'd peremptory Zeal
Would eat up God's House, and devour it at a Meal.

VIII

He does not pray, but prosecute,
As if he went to Law, his Suit;
Summons his Maker to appear,
And answer what he shall prefer;
Returns him back his Gift of Prayer,
Not to petition, but declare;
Exhibits cross Complaints
Against him for the Breach of Covenants,
And all the Charters of the Saints;
Pleads guilty to the Action, and yet stands
Upon high Terms, and bold Demands;
Excepts against him and his Laws,
And will be judge himself in his own Cause;
And grows more saucy and severe

90

Than th' Heathen Emp'ror was to Jupiter,
That us'd to wrangle with him, and dispute;
And sometimes wou'd speak softly in his Ear,
And sometimes loud, and rant, and tear,
And threaten, if he did not grant his Suit.

IX

But when his painful Gifts h' employs
In holding-forth, the Virtue lies
Not in the Letter of the Sense,
But in the spiritual Vehemence,
The Pow'r, and Dispensation of the Voice,
The zealous Pangs and Agonies,
And heav'nly turnings of the Eyes;
The Groans, with which he piously destroys,
And drowns the Nonsense in the Noise:
And grows so loud, as if he meant to force
And take in Heav'n by Violence;
To fright the Saints into Salvation,
Or Scare the Devil from Temptation;
Until he falls so low and hoarse,
No kind of carnal Sense,
Can be made out of what he means:
But as the antient Pagans were precise
To use no short-tail'd Beast in Sacrifice,
He still conforms to them, and has a Care,
T' allow the largest Measure to his paltry Ware.

X

The ancient Churches, and the best
By their own Martyrs Blood increas'd;
But he has found out a new Way,
To do it with the Blood of those,
That dare his Church's Growth oppose,
Or her imperious Canons disobey;
And strives to carry on the Work,
Like a true primitive reforming Turk,
With holy Rage, and edifying War,
More safe and pow'rful Ways by far:

91

For the Turk's Patriarch Mahomet
Was the first great Reformer, and the Chief
Of th' ancient Christian Belief,
That mix'd it with new Light, and Cheat,
With Revelations, Dreams, and Visions,
And apostolic Superstitions,
To be held forth, and carry'd on by War;
And his Successor was a Presbyter
With greater Right, than Haly or Abubeker.

XI

For as a Turk, that is to act some Crime
Against his Prophet's holy Law,
Is wont to bid his Soul withdraw,
And leave his Body for a Time:
So, when some horrid Action's to be done,
Our Turkish Proselite puts on
Another Spirit, and lays by his own;
And when his over-heated Brain
Turns giddy, like his Brother Mussulman,
He's judg'd inspir'd, and all his Frenzies held
To be prophetic, and reveal'd.
The one believes all Madmen to be Saints,
Which th' other crys him down for, and abhors,
And yet in Madness all Devotion plants,
And where he differs most concurs;
Both equally exact and just
In Perjury, and Breach of Trust;
So like in all Things, that one Brother
Is but a Counterpart of th' other;
And both unanimously damn,
And hate (like two that Play one Game)
Each other for it, while they strive to do the same.

XII

Both equally design to raise
Their Churches by the self-same Ways;
With War and Ruin to assert
Their Doctrine, and with Sword and Fire convert;

92

To preach the Gospel with a Drum,
And for convincing overcome;
And, though in worshipping of God all Blood
Was by his own Laws disallow'd,
Both hold no holy Rites to be so good:
And both to propagate the Breed
Of their own Saints one way proceed;
For Lust and Rapes in War repair as fast,
As Fury and Destruction waste;
Both equally allow all Crimes
As lawful Means to propagate a Sect;
For Laws in War can be of no Effect,
And Licence does more good in Gospel-times.
Hence 'tis, that holy Wars have ever been
The horrid'st Scenes of Blood and Sin;
For when Religion does recede
From her own Nature, nothing but a Breed
Of Prodigies and hideous Monsters can succeed.

93

UPON MODERN CRITICS

I

'Tis well, that equal Heav'n has plac'd
Those Joys above, that, to reward
The Just and virtuous, are prepar'd,
Beyond their reach, until their Pains are past;
Else Men would rather venture to possess
By force, than earn their Happiness;
And only take the Dev'ls advice,
As Adam did, how soonest to be wise,
Though at th' expence of Paradise.
For, as some say, to fight is but a base
Mechanic Handy-work, and far below
A gen'rous Spirit t' undergo:
So 'tis to take the Pains to know,
Which some, with only Confidence and Face,
More easily and ably do;
For daring Nonsense seldom fails to hit,
Like scatter'd Shot, and pass with some for Wit.
Who would not rather make himself a Judge,
And boldly usurp the Chair,
Than with dull Industry and Care
Endure to study, think, and drudge
For that, which he much sooner may advance
With obstinate, and pertinacious Ignorance?

II

For all Men challenge, tho' in spite
Of Nature and their Stars, a Right
To censure, judge, and know;
Tho' she can only order who
Shall be, and who shall ne'er be wise:
Then why should those, whom she denies
Her favour and good graces to,
Not strive to take Opinion by surprize,
And ravish, what it were in vain to woo?

94

For he, that desp'rately assumes
The censure of all Wits and Arts,
Tho' without Judgment, Skill, and Parts,
Only to startle and amuse,
And mask his Ignorance (as Indians use
With gawdy colour'd Plumes
Their homely nether Parts t' adorn)
Can never fail to captive some,
That will submit to his oraculous Doom,
And rev'rence what they ought to scorn;
Admire his sturdy confidence
For solid Judgment, and deep Sense;
And credit purchas'd without Pains or Wit,
Like stolen Pleasures, ought to be most sweet.

III

Two Self-admirers, that combine
Against the World, may pass a Fine
Upon all Judgment, Sense, and Wit,
And settle it, as they think fit,
On one another, like the Choice
Of Persian Princes by one Horse's Voice.
For those fine Pageants, which some raise,
Of false and disproportion'd Praise,
T' enable whom they please t' appear,
And pass for what they never were,
In private only b'ing but nam'd,
Their Modesty, must be asham'd,
And not endure to hear;
And yet may be divulg'd and fam'd,
And own'd in public every where:
So vain some Authors are to boast
Their want of Ingenuity, and club
Their affidavit Wits, to dub
Each other but a Knight o' th' Post,
As false as suborn'd Perjurers,
That vouch away all right, they have to their own Ears.

95

IV

But when all other Courses fail,
There is one easy Artifice,
That seldom has been known to miss,
To cry all Mankind down, and rail:
For he, whom all Men do contemn,
May be allow'd to rail again at them,
And in his own Defence
To outface Reason, Wit, and Sense,
And all, that makes against himself, condemn;
To snarle at all Things right or wrong,
Like a mad Dog, that has a Worm in's Tongue;
Reduce all Knowledge back of Good and Evil,
T' its first Original the Devil;
And, like a fierce Inquisitor of Wit,
To spare no Flesh, that ever spoke, or writ;
Tho' to perform his Task as dull,
As if he had a Toad-stone in his Scull,
And could produce a greater Stock
Of Maggots than a pastoral Poet's Flock.

V

The feeblest Vermin can destroy,
As sure as stoutest Beasts of Prey;
And only with their Eyes and Breath
Infect, and poyson Men to death:
But that more impotent Buffoon,
That makes it both his Bus'ness, and his Sport
To rail at all, is but a Drone,
That spends his Sting on what he cannot hurt,
Enjoys a kind of Letchery in Spight,
Like o'ergrown Sinners, that in whipping take Delight,
Invades the Reputation of all those,
That have, or have it not to lose;
And if he chance to make a Difference,
'Tis always in the wrongest Sense:
As rooking Gamesters never lay
Upon those Hands, that use fair Play;

96

But venture all their Bets
Upon the Slurs, and cunning Tricks of ablest Cheats.

VI

Nor does he vex himself much less
Than all the World beside,
Falls sick of other Mens Excess,
Is humbled only at their Pride,
And wretched at their Happiness;
Revenges on himself the Wrong,
Which his vain Malice and loose Tongue
To those, that feel it not, have done;
And whips and spurs himself, because he is outgone;
Makes idle Characters and Tales,
As counterfeit, unlike, and false,
As Witches Pictures are of Wax and Clay
To those, whom they would in Effigie slay.
And as the Devil, that has no Shape of's own,
Affects to put the ugliest on,
And leaves a Stink behind him, when he's gone;
So he, that's worse than nothing, strives t' appear
I' th' likeness of a Wolf or Bear,
To fright the weak; but, when Men dare
Encounter with him, stinks, and vanishes to air.

97

TO THE HAPPY MEMORY Of the most Renown'd DU-VAL

I

'Tis true, to compliment the Dead
Is as impertinent and vain,
As 'twas of old to call them back again,
Or, like the Tartars, give them Wives
With Settlements, for After-lives:
For all that can be done, or said,
Tho' ere so noble, great, and good,
By them is neither heard, nor understood.
All our fine Slights, and Tricks of Art,
First to create, and then adore Desert,
And those Romances, which we frame,
To raise ourselves, not them, a Name,
In vain are stuft with ranting Flatteries,
And such as, if they knew, they would despise.
For as those Times the Golden Age we call,
In which there was no Gold in Use at all,
So we plant Glory and Renown,
Where it was ne'er deserv'd, nor known,
But to worse Purpose many Times,
To flourish o'er nefarious Crimes,
And cheat the World, that never seems to mind,
How good, or bad Men die, but what they leave behind.

98

II

And yet the brave Du-Val, whose Name
Can never be worn out by Fame,
That liv'd, and dy'd, to leave behind
A great Example to Mankind;
That fell a public Sacrifice,
From Ruin to preserve those few,
Who, tho' born false, may be made true,
And teach the World to be more just, and wise,
Ought not, like vulgar Ashes, rest
Unmention'd in his silent Chest,
Not for his own, but public Interest.
He, like a pious Man, some Years before
Th' Arrival of his fatal Hour,
Made ev'ry Day he had to live,
To his last Minute a Preparative;
Taught the wild Arabs on the Road
To act in a more gentle Mode,
Take Prizes more obligingly than those
Who never had been bred Filous;
And how to hang in a more graceful fashion,
Than e'er was known before to the dull English Nation.

III

In France the Staple of new Modes,
Where Garbs and Miens are currant Goods,
That serves the ruder Northern Nations
With Methods of Address and Treat;
Prescribes new Garnitures and Fashions,
And how to drink, and how to eat
No out-of-fashion Wine or Meat;
To understand Cravats and Plumes,
And the most modish from the old Perfumes;
To know the Age and Pedigrees
Of Poynts of Flandres or Venise;
Cast their Nativities, and to a Day
Foretel how long they'll hold, and when decay;

99

T'affect the purest Negligences
In Gestures, Gaits, and Miens,
And speak by Repartee-rotines
Out of the most authentic of Romances;
And to demonstrate with substantial Reason,
What Ribbands all the Year are in, or out of Season.

IV

In this great Academy of Mankind
He had his Birth, and Education;
Where all Men are s' ingeniously inclin'd,
They understand by Imitation,
Improve untaught, before they are aware,
As if they suck'd their Breeding from the Air,
That naturally does dispense
To all a deep and solid Confidence,
A Virtue of that precious Use,
That he, whom bounteous Heav'n endues
But with a mod'rate Share of it,
Can want no Worth, Abilities, or Wit.
In all the deep Hermetic Arts,
(For so of late the Learned call
All Tricks, if strange and mystical)
He had improv'd his nat'ral Parts,
And with his magic Rod could sound
Where hidden Treasure might be found.
He, like a Lord o' th' Manor, seiz'd upon
What ever happen'd in his Way,
As lawful Weft and Stray,
And after by the Custom kept it as his own.

V

From these first Rudiments he grew
To nobler Feats, and try'd his Force
Upon whole Troops of Foot and Horse,
Whom he as bravely did subdue;
Declar'd all Caravans, that go
Upon the King's Highway, the Foe;

100

Made many desperate Attacks
Upon itinerant Brigades
Of all Professions, Ranks, and Trades,
On Carriers Loads, and Pedlars Packs,
Made 'em lay down their Arms, and yield
And, to the smallest Piece, restore
All, that by Cheating they had gain'd before;
And after plunder'd all the Baggage of the Field.
In every bold Affair of War
He had the chief Command, and led them on;
For no Man is judg'd fit to have the Care
Of others Lives, until h' has made it known,
How much he does despise, and scorn his own.

VI

Whole Provinces 'twixt Sun and Sun
Have by his conqu'ring Sword been won;
And mighty Sums of Money laid,
For Ransom, upon every Man,
And Hostages deliver'd till 'twas paid.
Th' Excise and Chimney-Publican,
The Jew-Forestaller and Enhancer,
To him for all their Crimes did answer.
He vanquish'd the most fierce and fell
Of all his Foes, the Constable;
And oft had beat his Quarters up,
And routed him, and all his Troop.
He took the dreadful Lawyer's Fees,
That in his own allow'd Highway
Does Feats of Arms as great as his,
And, when th' encounter in it, wins the Day:
Safe in his Garison the Court,
Where meaner Criminals are sentenc'd for't,
To this stern Foe he oft gave Quarter,
But as the Scotchman did t' a Tartar,
That he, in Time to come,
Might in return from him receive his fatal Doom.

101

VII

He would have starv'd this mighty Town,
And brought its haughty Spirit down,
Have cut it off from all Relief,
And, like a wise and valiant Chief
Made many a Fierce Assault
Upon all Ammunition Carts,
And those that bring up Cheese, and Malt,
Or Bacon, from remoter Parts;
No Convoy e'er so strong with Food
Durst venture on the desp'rate Road:
He made th' undaunted Waggoner obey,
And the fierce Higler Contribution pay,
The savage Butcher and stout Drover
Durst not to him their feeble Troops discover;
And, if he had but kept the Field,
In Time had made the City yield;
For great Towns, like to Crocodiles, are found,
I' th' Belly aptest to receive a mortal Wound.

VIII

But when the fatal Hour arriv'd,
In which his Stars began to frown,
And had in close Cabals contriv'd
To pull him from his Height of Glory down;
And he, by numerous Foes opprest,
Was in th' enchanted Dungeon cast,
Secur'd with mighty Guards,
Lest he by Force or Stratagem
Might prove too cunning for their Chains, and them,
And break thro' all their Locks, and Bolts, and Wards,
Had both his Legs by Charms committed
To one another's Charge,
That neither might be set at large,
And all their Fury and Revenge outwitted.
As Jewels of high Value are
Kept under Locks with greater Care,
Than those of meaner Rates;
So he was in Stone Walls, and Chains, and Iron Grates.

102

IX

Thither came Ladies from all Parts,
To offer up close Prisoners their Hearts,
Which he receiv'd as Tribute due,
And made them yield up Love and Honour too;
But in more brave heroic ways,
Than e'er were practis'd yet in Plays:
For those two spightful Foes, who never meet
But full of hot Contests, and Piques
About Punctilios, and mere Tricks,
Did all their Quarrels to his Doom submit;
And far more generous and free,
In Contemplation only of him did agree,
Both fully satisfy'd; the one
With those fresh Lawrels he had won,
And all the brave renowned Feats,
He had perform'd in Arms;
The other with his Person, and his Charms:
For just as Larks are catch'd in Nets,
By gazing on a Piece of Glass;
So while the Ladies view'd his brighter Eyes,
And smoother polish'd Face,
Their gentle Hearts, alas! were taken by Surprize.

X

Never did bold Knight, to relieve
Distressed Dames, such dreadful Feats atchieve,
As feeble Damsels, for his Sake,
Would have been proud to undertake;
And bravely ambitious to redeem
The World's Loss, and their own,
Strove who should have the Honour to lay down,
And change a Life with him:
But finding all their Hopes in vain
To move his fix'd determin'd Fate,
Their Life itself began to hate,
As if it were an Infamy
To live, when he was doom'd to die;

103

Made loud Appeals and Moans,
To less hard-hearted Grates and Stones;
Came swell'd with Sighs, and drown'd in Tears,
To yield themselves his Fellow-sufferers;
And follow'd him, like Prisoners of War
Chain'd to the lofty Wheels of his triumphant Car.