The grand Tryal or, Poetical Exercitations upon the book of Job. Wherein, Suitable to each Text of that sacred Book, a modest Explanation, and Continuation of the several Discourses contained in it, is attempted by William Clark |
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| I. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| II. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| III. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. | Cap. XXXI. |
| IV. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| V. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
 | The grand Tryal |  |
Cap. XXXI.
And now, my friends you see, you plainly see,
What formerly you only heard of me:
You see a sad change of my former state,
You see me now on Dunghill, who of late
On the chief Bench most highly honoured sate.
This is my case then, here you see me ly
An evidence o'th' instability
Of Humane Grandeur, a sad precedent
Of Gods displeasure: hither I am sent
By his appointment, that the World may see
His love, and hate alternative in me.
One, whom his bountie formerlie did raise
And blest with a long tract of golden days,
Free of all Sorrow, Poverty, and Pain,
And now his wrath has taken down again.
Why this is all, my friends, 'tis all you see,
This is the sum of what you read in me.
Now therefore, as a man about to die,
Allow me, pray my friends, the libertie
In a few words to make a short relation
Of my short life, and show how in my station,
I laboured still to live without offence,
To God, and Man: so that when I am hence,
You may bear witness to the World what were
My dying words, and from this time forbear
To call me guilty of what all of you
Make it your work to fix upon me now.
Then hear me pray, for after this I shall
Use no more words—
What formerly you only heard of me:
You see a sad change of my former state,
You see me now on Dunghill, who of late
On the chief Bench most highly honoured sate.
This is my case then, here you see me ly
An evidence o'th' instability
Of Humane Grandeur, a sad precedent
Of Gods displeasure: hither I am sent
By his appointment, that the World may see
His love, and hate alternative in me.
One, whom his bountie formerlie did raise
And blest with a long tract of golden days,
Free of all Sorrow, Poverty, and Pain,
And now his wrath has taken down again.
Why this is all, my friends, 'tis all you see,
This is the sum of what you read in me.
Now therefore, as a man about to die,
Allow me, pray my friends, the libertie
In a few words to make a short relation
Of my short life, and show how in my station,
I laboured still to live without offence,
To God, and Man: so that when I am hence,
You may bear witness to the World what were
260
To call me guilty of what all of you
Make it your work to fix upon me now.
Then hear me pray, for after this I shall
Use no more words—
First then, my friends, I'de have you know that I
Have always studied since my Infancy
The Art of Continence: for in the least
An unclean thought never possess't my breast.
I always hated wanton Company,
And still dislik'd that Foolish Railery,
In which young men their time do poorly waste,
Making their sin the Subject of their Jest.
Nor did I ere desire to be acquaint
With those, whose eyes do make our blood ferment.
No, in such Intrigues, I would ne're engage,
Lest I might perish by Loves cousenage,
And like the foolish young men of our time,
To purchase pleasure, think no sin a crime.
For this cause, knowing that such Fooleries
Do steal in at the Wicket of the Eyes:
With these I quickly did confederate,
And in my Treaty, firmly stipulate,
They should not see a Maid at any rate.
They should not on that pleasant Object look,
Because the Bait did usher in the Hook:
But shun to see that curious piece of Nature,
Lest I were tempted with its lovely feature.
Have always studied since my Infancy
The Art of Continence: for in the least
An unclean thought never possess't my breast.
I always hated wanton Company,
And still dislik'd that Foolish Railery,
In which young men their time do poorly waste,
Making their sin the Subject of their Jest.
Nor did I ere desire to be acquaint
With those, whose eyes do make our blood ferment.
No, in such Intrigues, I would ne're engage,
Lest I might perish by Loves cousenage,
And like the foolish young men of our time,
To purchase pleasure, think no sin a crime.
For this cause, knowing that such Fooleries
Do steal in at the Wicket of the Eyes:
With these I quickly did confederate,
And in my Treaty, firmly stipulate,
They should not see a Maid at any rate.
They should not on that pleasant Object look,
Because the Bait did usher in the Hook:
But shun to see that curious piece of Nature,
Lest I were tempted with its lovely feature.
For with my self I still considered
This was a sin by Law prohibited;
A crying sin, and therefore to be fear'd
In Heavens Court it would be sooner heard
Then I my self, and make the Divine wrath
Pursue me, and my Familie to death.
I thought too with my self, should those, who claim
An Interest in Heaven be barr'd, with shame,
From Gods good presence by the hateful means
Of a poor nasty sin: hence I took pains,
So to secure my heart, that, at no time,
The thoughts of this abominable crime
Might slip into it: and for one short pleasure,
I came to forfault an eternal Treasure.
This was a sin by Law prohibited;
A crying sin, and therefore to be fear'd
In Heavens Court it would be sooner heard
Then I my self, and make the Divine wrath
Pursue me, and my Familie to death.
I thought too with my self, should those, who claim
An Interest in Heaven be barr'd, with shame,
From Gods good presence by the hateful means
Of a poor nasty sin: hence I took pains,
So to secure my heart, that, at no time,
The thoughts of this abominable crime
Might slip into it: and for one short pleasure,
I came to forfault an eternal Treasure.
Yes an eternal Store, a Happiness
No Humane Art, or Language can express,
For one poor Moments pleasure, Lord how sad
To think that any man should be so mad,
As for a triffle (think on't what he list)
Which rather in the Fancy doth subsist
Then in Fruition; he should wilfully
Quit all his interest in Eternity.
For sure those men, whom God doth wicked call,
In his good time shall be destroyed all:
Destroy'd, yes, and that by singular
And unknown methods, not as others are,
But by remarkable calamities,
Upon their Persons, and their Families
They shall be rooted out: and men shall know
That God is just.
No Humane Art, or Language can express,
For one poor Moments pleasure, Lord how sad
To think that any man should be so mad,
As for a triffle (think on't what he list)
Which rather in the Fancy doth subsist
Then in Fruition; he should wilfully
Quit all his interest in Eternity.
For sure those men, whom God doth wicked call,
In his good time shall be destroyed all:
Destroy'd, yes, and that by singular
And unknown methods, not as others are,
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Upon their Persons, and their Families
They shall be rooted out: and men shall know
That God is just.
Besides I know that his all-seeing eye,
Was not to be deceiv'd by secrecy:
Nor could my sin so cunninglie be hatch't,
But in the very thought I should be catch't:
My heart should be exposed to his sight,
And all my hidden councils brought to light.
Was not to be deceiv'd by secrecy:
Nor could my sin so cunninglie be hatch't,
But in the very thought I should be catch't:
My heart should be exposed to his sight,
And all my hidden councils brought to light.
Now, as I liv'd in spotless continence,
So, further, to improve my innocence;
In all my dealings I was just, and square,
With every man, my actions were fair,
Sincere, ingenous, honest, regular.
So, further, to improve my innocence;
In all my dealings I was just, and square,
With every man, my actions were fair,
Sincere, ingenous, honest, regular.
For proof of which, I wish my God would try,
The value of my lifes integrity,
And all my actions as in ballance poize,
Then 'twould be fullie seen what was my choice.
The value of my lifes integrity,
And all my actions as in ballance poize,
Then 'twould be fullie seen what was my choice.
Yes 'twould be seen, and that so clearlie too,
As from that weighing, without more adoe,
The world might see how much I took delite
In God, and that I am no hypocrite.
For if I ever have endeavoured
To cozen mortal man, or studied
How to compel a man o're-grown with debt,
To let me have his Lands below the rate:
Or in my bargains such advantage tane,
As would ha' been, perhaps, by other men
On such occasions; where necessity
Oblig'd th'unwilling Borrower to comply
With th'avarice o'th' Lender, nay, if e're
I in a durty action did appear:
As from that weighing, without more adoe,
The world might see how much I took delite
In God, and that I am no hypocrite.
For if I ever have endeavoured
To cozen mortal man, or studied
How to compel a man o're-grown with debt,
To let me have his Lands below the rate:
Or in my bargains such advantage tane,
As would ha' been, perhaps, by other men
On such occasions; where necessity
Oblig'd th'unwilling Borrower to comply
With th'avarice o'th' Lender, nay, if e're
I in a durty action did appear:
Then of afflictions would I not complain,
Nor thus with sighs resent my present pain.
Nor would I think it strange at all to see
How others feed, on what was sown by me.
How others now my Lands, and Means possesse,
And worse then any Beggar, here, alace,
I who was Lord of all you see around,
Deform'd, and dying, grovel on the ground;
Nor How my goodly Family of late,
Now either is in grave, or dissipate,
Like Chaff before the Wind, and I alone
Survive these losses, only to bemoan
What cannot be recovered; and stead
Of living, only do envy the dead.
Nor thus with sighs resent my present pain.
Nor would I think it strange at all to see
How others feed, on what was sown by me.
How others now my Lands, and Means possesse,
And worse then any Beggar, here, alace,
I who was Lord of all you see around,
Deform'd, and dying, grovel on the ground;
Nor How my goodly Family of late,
Now either is in grave, or dissipate,
Like Chaff before the Wind, and I alone
Survive these losses, only to bemoan
What cannot be recovered; and stead
Of living, only do envy the dead.
No, I would not think all these judgements strange,
Nor, in that case would I deplore my change,
But O, such things I never would practise,
O no, I never would permit my eyes
To look upon an object, how so e're,
I'th' eyes o'world beautiful, and fair,
That might occasion sin: no, at no rate,
But all those things I did abominate.
I did abhor those hateful practices,
And at the names of Whores and Mistrisses,
I'de stop my ears: I never had design
Upon my Neighbours Wife, or Concubine.
For if at any time a Female eye
Hath rais'd and swol'n my passion so hie,
As I should venture on Adultery:
If I have been enticed by a Whore,
Or have set Spyes before my Neighbours Door,
T'observe the glances of his amorous Wife,
Or robb'd him of the pleasures of his life,
By close appointments, and dark assignations,
Where I have had my will at all occasions:
Nor, in that case would I deplore my change,
But O, such things I never would practise,
O no, I never would permit my eyes
To look upon an object, how so e're,
I'th' eyes o'world beautiful, and fair,
That might occasion sin: no, at no rate,
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I did abhor those hateful practices,
And at the names of Whores and Mistrisses,
I'de stop my ears: I never had design
Upon my Neighbours Wife, or Concubine.
For if at any time a Female eye
Hath rais'd and swol'n my passion so hie,
As I should venture on Adultery:
If I have been enticed by a Whore,
Or have set Spyes before my Neighbours Door,
T'observe the glances of his amorous Wife,
Or robb'd him of the pleasures of his life,
By close appointments, and dark assignations,
Where I have had my will at all occasions:
Then were it just my Wife should be so us'd
As I my self had others Wives abus'd,
'Twere just that she her self should prostitute
For hire, without the trouble of a sute
To every Porter, Foot-man, Slave, or Groom,
And for all Comers keep an open open Room,
That all I've injured (in that humble state)
May their affronts on her retalliate.
As I my self had others Wives abus'd,
'Twere just that she her self should prostitute
For hire, without the trouble of a sute
To every Porter, Foot-man, Slave, or Groom,
And for all Comers keep an open open Room,
That all I've injured (in that humble state)
May their affronts on her retalliate.
Besides, I know this was a sin so foul,
And so provocking, as my very soul
Did still abhor it: I did still detest
This treacherous Crime, nor would I in the least
By any means into its Clutches fall;
Nor would I hearken to th'Adulteress call,
Though by the Laws it were not capital.
And so provocking, as my very soul
Did still abhor it: I did still detest
This treacherous Crime, nor would I in the least
By any means into its Clutches fall;
Nor would I hearken to th'Adulteress call,
Though by the Laws it were not capital.
A sin I alwayes thought in Heavens sight
So black and ugly, that it hates the light
No more than God hates it: a dreadful sin,
From whence his wrath doth usually begin
Against its Actors, and pursues the Chace
To th'utmost extirpation of their Race.
So black and ugly, that it hates the light
No more than God hates it: a dreadful sin,
From whence his wrath doth usually begin
Against its Actors, and pursues the Chace
To th'utmost extirpation of their Race.
This was my life, this was my conversation,
Thus without blemish in my reputation,
I alwayes liv'd, and never deviate
From Virtues narrow road: and, as with hate
I still rejected all incontinence.
So in the peace of a good Conscience,
I liv'd secure, whilst I administrate
Both in my publick, and my private state,
Justice to all men: for to th'meanest slave
Within my Walls, I'de the same way behave
In point of right, when they'd to me complain
Of any wrong, as to the greatest men
I'th' Countrey, in their sutes, and after all,
I thought it but my duty.—
Thus without blemish in my reputation,
I alwayes liv'd, and never deviate
From Virtues narrow road: and, as with hate
I still rejected all incontinence.
So in the peace of a good Conscience,
I liv'd secure, whilst I administrate
Both in my publick, and my private state,
Justice to all men: for to th'meanest slave
Within my Walls, I'de the same way behave
In point of right, when they'd to me complain
Of any wrong, as to the greatest men
I'th' Countrey, in their sutes, and after all,
I thought it but my duty.—
For in my mind I oft considered
That those poor slaves, though they by Law were made
My servile Subjects, yet both they and I
Were subject to that King who sits on high
That Supream Judge, who deals impartially
With all men.
So that if I during my eminence,
To any of these men had done offence;
Had I refus'd to hear their exclamations,
Or of their wrongs refus'd them reparations;
Had I abused that authority,
Which I had o're those wretches, what could I,
Pray what could I with reason have expected
Might be my doom? for if I had neglected
My duty to the meanest here below,
Or e're deny'd them justice, even so
When God in justice 'gainst me should proceed,
I might my sin then in my judgement read.
That those poor slaves, though they by Law were made
My servile Subjects, yet both they and I
Were subject to that King who sits on high
That Supream Judge, who deals impartially
With all men.
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To any of these men had done offence;
Had I refus'd to hear their exclamations,
Or of their wrongs refus'd them reparations;
Had I abused that authority,
Which I had o're those wretches, what could I,
Pray what could I with reason have expected
Might be my doom? for if I had neglected
My duty to the meanest here below,
Or e're deny'd them justice, even so
When God in justice 'gainst me should proceed,
I might my sin then in my judgement read.
For with my self, my friends, I alwayes thought
That though those men I had with Money bought,
And so by Law had pow'r of life and death
Over them all, and might have in my wrath
Kill'd them, like beasts, yet these poor souls were men,
As well as I, and that a time was, when
Those now distinguished by Law, and I
Did undistinguish'd in the belly ly.
For in the womb what the Almighty frames
This only Man, and that he Woman names:
No more distinction there: no in that Cell
Without Precedence all as Brethren dwell;
There is no Master, there's no Servant there;
For in the sight of God all do appear
But as one Plastick matter, out of which
His mighty hand doth form both poor and rich.
He whom the world doth honourable name,
And he whom mean, and base, is there the same.
There's no such thing there, as we birth do call,
For there's but one birth in t'th' Original,
One common source, from whence we trindle all.
Though as we daily see how from one spring
Several petty Rivers issuing,
Swoln up by other Rivers in the stream,
Do purchase to themselves a lofty name.
So the poor aery notion of blood,
Though in the fountain barely understood
To be one species (what so e're esteem
Th'applause of men put on it in the stream)
As it in several Veins scaturiats,
Is valued by the Worlds Book of Rates.
Which slights the Fountain, but respects the Streams,
And this Blood base, and that Blood Noble names.
But in the Mass there is no difference,
No formal quality, no excellence.
Nor even in the stream can sharpest eye
Perceive a Physical disparity
'Twixt this, and t'other Blood, for all appear
Of the same colour all are equal there:
Yes, let a Princes, and a Peasants Veins
Be Launc'd together, there's no difference
Betwixt the two: for both of them to th'eye
Appear to be of a bright Scarlet dye.
Only as Iron, Copper, Lead, or Brasse,
Esteemed but base Mettals in the Masse.
Are soon, by Princes orders rais'd as high,
As Gold in value: and do signify
As much in Commerce, and in Bargains go,
At no lesse rate if they will have it so.
Even so a Princes favour, when it shines,
On this, or 'tother Blood, in direct Lines,
It raises soon the value of the thing,
And this, or 'tother Blood to hight doth bring.
Which were as mean as others in the spring.
That though those men I had with Money bought,
And so by Law had pow'r of life and death
Over them all, and might have in my wrath
Kill'd them, like beasts, yet these poor souls were men,
As well as I, and that a time was, when
Those now distinguished by Law, and I
Did undistinguish'd in the belly ly.
For in the womb what the Almighty frames
This only Man, and that he Woman names:
No more distinction there: no in that Cell
Without Precedence all as Brethren dwell;
There is no Master, there's no Servant there;
For in the sight of God all do appear
But as one Plastick matter, out of which
His mighty hand doth form both poor and rich.
He whom the world doth honourable name,
And he whom mean, and base, is there the same.
There's no such thing there, as we birth do call,
For there's but one birth in t'th' Original,
One common source, from whence we trindle all.
Though as we daily see how from one spring
Several petty Rivers issuing,
Swoln up by other Rivers in the stream,
Do purchase to themselves a lofty name.
So the poor aery notion of blood,
Though in the fountain barely understood
To be one species (what so e're esteem
Th'applause of men put on it in the stream)
As it in several Veins scaturiats,
Is valued by the Worlds Book of Rates.
Which slights the Fountain, but respects the Streams,
And this Blood base, and that Blood Noble names.
But in the Mass there is no difference,
No formal quality, no excellence.
Nor even in the stream can sharpest eye
Perceive a Physical disparity
'Twixt this, and t'other Blood, for all appear
Of the same colour all are equal there:
Yes, let a Princes, and a Peasants Veins
Be Launc'd together, there's no difference
Betwixt the two: for both of them to th'eye
264
Only as Iron, Copper, Lead, or Brasse,
Esteemed but base Mettals in the Masse.
Are soon, by Princes orders rais'd as high,
As Gold in value: and do signify
As much in Commerce, and in Bargains go,
At no lesse rate if they will have it so.
Even so a Princes favour, when it shines,
On this, or 'tother Blood, in direct Lines,
It raises soon the value of the thing,
And this, or 'tother Blood to hight doth bring.
Which were as mean as others in the spring.
Yet let me tell you, in a sober sense,
I truly think there is great difference
Betwixt that Blood stamp'd by a Prince, and that,
On which unspoted Virtue sets a rate,
The first, like vapours by the Sun exhal'd
From Lakes, and Ditches, justly may be call'd,
Which do not firmly in the Clouds remain,
But quickly either in Hail, Snow, or Rain,
Do from their stations tumble down again.
For as by Princes smiles, that Blood was rais'd,
So by their frowns, it is as soon debas'd.
Their anger taints that current in a tryce;
On which their favour lately set a price,
Which now diverted from its former course,
Appears as low, and cheap as in the source.
But that by virtue rais'd, we may compare
To Elemental waters, which do there
Dwell, with a firm design of remanence,
And are not easily to be pumped thence.
For that by virtue rais'd, cannot be stain'd,
So long as that its motion doth attend,
Which gave its Being: and though Princes wrath,
The owner of that Blood may bring to death,
Yet still it lives in his Posterity,
And runs i'th' Channel of a Memory,
For Virtue's only true Nobility.
I truly think there is great difference
Betwixt that Blood stamp'd by a Prince, and that,
On which unspoted Virtue sets a rate,
The first, like vapours by the Sun exhal'd
From Lakes, and Ditches, justly may be call'd,
Which do not firmly in the Clouds remain,
But quickly either in Hail, Snow, or Rain,
Do from their stations tumble down again.
For as by Princes smiles, that Blood was rais'd,
So by their frowns, it is as soon debas'd.
Their anger taints that current in a tryce;
On which their favour lately set a price,
Which now diverted from its former course,
Appears as low, and cheap as in the source.
But that by virtue rais'd, we may compare
To Elemental waters, which do there
Dwell, with a firm design of remanence,
And are not easily to be pumped thence.
For that by virtue rais'd, cannot be stain'd,
So long as that its motion doth attend,
Which gave its Being: and though Princes wrath,
The owner of that Blood may bring to death,
Yet still it lives in his Posterity,
And runs i'th' Channel of a Memory,
For Virtue's only true Nobility.
Then where's the man, that boasts of Noble Race?
Can he his Blood from other Fountain trace,
Then that o'th' Womb, in which the poorest slave,
Who has no foot of Earth besides his Grave,
Has as much interest, as he, and can
Derive his Line from th'ancient House of Man,
As well as those, who, with great vanity,
Can point the series of their Family.
O then, what fools must these be understood,
Who void of Virtue, only boast of Blood!
Who think their Birth affords them liberty,
Beyond the vulgar, in all villany,
And sin according to their quality.
Sure these must be the worst of men, sure these
Of humane blood must be the very lees:
Yet such there are, and such will always be,
Who by the fable of their Pedigree,
Make way through every sin, as if, what shame
Forbids the Vulgar, were allow'd to them.
And when they've made a way in luxury,
Their own Estates, then do they by, and by,
Practise new arts, and fall on several ways,
How they may live, and waste some foolish days,
Though they at last should beg from door, to door,
Yet whilst they can, they feed upon the poor.
Can he his Blood from other Fountain trace,
Then that o'th' Womb, in which the poorest slave,
Who has no foot of Earth besides his Grave,
Has as much interest, as he, and can
Derive his Line from th'ancient House of Man,
As well as those, who, with great vanity,
Can point the series of their Family.
O then, what fools must these be understood,
Who void of Virtue, only boast of Blood!
Who think their Birth affords them liberty,
Beyond the vulgar, in all villany,
And sin according to their quality.
Sure these must be the worst of men, sure these
Of humane blood must be the very lees:
Yet such there are, and such will always be,
265
Make way through every sin, as if, what shame
Forbids the Vulgar, were allow'd to them.
And when they've made a way in luxury,
Their own Estates, then do they by, and by,
Practise new arts, and fall on several ways,
How they may live, and waste some foolish days,
Though they at last should beg from door, to door,
Yet whilst they can, they feed upon the poor.
Why now should all these men of quality,
Consider, but sometime, as well as I,
Have always done, that as we all do flow
From the head fountain of the Womb, even so
When we in streams have squandred here, and there
Where, in the eyes o'th' world, we do appear,
One rais'd in value far above another,
And now disdain to give the name of Brother,
To such as are indeed as good as we,
In th'eyes of God: not dreaming we shall see
Those Monuments of our low Birth once more,
In the same rank with us, as we before
Have seen, why after all, alacc, we find,
We're all but Dust, all of one common kind.
For in our pride, when we have run our course,
As once we lay together in the source,
So Noble, Base, and Mean, all die as men,
And in the Grave we poorly meet again.
And then brave Blood! thou quaint device of men!
How wilt thou rank thy Lineages then!
Pray, what will be thy value, what thy rate,
When in the Grave we're all incorporate:
When in the cloysters of Mortality,
As in the Womb we undistinguish'd ly,
What's then the use of thy vain Heraldry
All poor, and low, all naked there appear,
And we know none of thy distinctions there.
Then why should I have done the least offence,
To any Creature, who in Natures sense,
Is of as good Extraction, and as dear,
Doth in Gods sight, as I my self appear.
Consider, but sometime, as well as I,
Have always done, that as we all do flow
From the head fountain of the Womb, even so
When we in streams have squandred here, and there
Where, in the eyes o'th' world, we do appear,
One rais'd in value far above another,
And now disdain to give the name of Brother,
To such as are indeed as good as we,
In th'eyes of God: not dreaming we shall see
Those Monuments of our low Birth once more,
In the same rank with us, as we before
Have seen, why after all, alacc, we find,
We're all but Dust, all of one common kind.
For in our pride, when we have run our course,
As once we lay together in the source,
So Noble, Base, and Mean, all die as men,
And in the Grave we poorly meet again.
And then brave Blood! thou quaint device of men!
How wilt thou rank thy Lineages then!
Pray, what will be thy value, what thy rate,
When in the Grave we're all incorporate:
When in the cloysters of Mortality,
As in the Womb we undistinguish'd ly,
What's then the use of thy vain Heraldry
All poor, and low, all naked there appear,
And we know none of thy distinctions there.
Then why should I have done the least offence,
To any Creature, who in Natures sense,
Is of as good Extraction, and as dear,
Doth in Gods sight, as I my self appear.
These were my thoughts, these were my meditations,
These were my reasons, which at all occasions,
Mov'd me for all men, to have Charity:
So that with no man I dealt cruelly.
But, on the contrair, when the poor mans cause
Was ruin'd by the rigour of the Laws;
(As oft it happens) their severity.
I'd temper with some grains of equity,
And do him all the favour I could do
With a safe Conscience: the poor widow too,
Whose Cause before me lay, I'd chearfully
Assist: and to period speedily
Conduct her suit.
These were my reasons, which at all occasions,
Mov'd me for all men, to have Charity:
So that with no man I dealt cruelly.
But, on the contrair, when the poor mans cause
Was ruin'd by the rigour of the Laws;
(As oft it happens) their severity.
I'd temper with some grains of equity,
And do him all the favour I could do
With a safe Conscience: the poor widow too,
Whose Cause before me lay, I'd chearfully
Assist: and to period speedily
Conduct her suit.
266
Nor was I less kind in my private state
To all in want, for I would never eat,
Nor with contentment, take my daily fare,
Unless some Orphans with me had a share.
To all in want, for I would never eat,
Nor with contentment, take my daily fare,
Unless some Orphans with me had a share.
For from my youth I had great tenderness
Both for the Widow, and the Fatherless:
To these, when some Relations had refus'd,
And others of 'em crav'd to be excus'd
From being Tutors, I'de in Charity,
Take on my self th'office of Tutory
Of these poor Creatures, though th'administration
I knew would yield me nothing but vexation,
And that,—
When with great pains, I had recovered
Their squandred means, and in some fashion made
Provisions for them, when they came to be
Of age (though truly strangers all to me)
Why after all my toil, I might conclude,
To meet with nothing but ingratitude
From these my Pupills, as is ordinar,
For most of honest men who Tutors are,
Yet knowing well that men in Charity
Each others wants are oblig'd to supply,
Though with their own loss, and in such a case,
Had I refus'd that Office to embrace,
VVhy those poor Orphans had become a prey
To every Petty-fogger, who'd betray
Their Pupills interest, and not care a whit,
To ruine them, for their own benefit,
That I might this prevent without regard
To th'trouble of it, or my bad reward,
I never would refuse at all occasions
To take upon me such administrations.
Both for the Widow, and the Fatherless:
To these, when some Relations had refus'd,
And others of 'em crav'd to be excus'd
From being Tutors, I'de in Charity,
Take on my self th'office of Tutory
Of these poor Creatures, though th'administration
I knew would yield me nothing but vexation,
And that,—
When with great pains, I had recovered
Their squandred means, and in some fashion made
Provisions for them, when they came to be
Of age (though truly strangers all to me)
Why after all my toil, I might conclude,
To meet with nothing but ingratitude
From these my Pupills, as is ordinar,
For most of honest men who Tutors are,
Yet knowing well that men in Charity
Each others wants are oblig'd to supply,
Though with their own loss, and in such a case,
Had I refus'd that Office to embrace,
VVhy those poor Orphans had become a prey
To every Petty-fogger, who'd betray
Their Pupills interest, and not care a whit,
To ruine them, for their own benefit,
That I might this prevent without regard
To th'trouble of it, or my bad reward,
I never would refuse at all occasions
To take upon me such administrations.
But not to these alone my charity
Extended, whose weak pupularity
Did render them obnoxious to the tricks
Of all contriving Guardian Empyricks:
But ev'n to those of age, whom poverty
Had hurried into want, and misery,
At all times I'de extend my charity.
I'de give them food, I'de give them raiment too,
And pensions out of my own stores allow
For their subsistence: so that I may say
VVith a safe Conscience,—
If ever mortal stood before my door,
VVhom th'only hand of God had rendred poor,
(For of such canting Rogues, as do oppress
The Countrey with a begging idleness,
I do not mean) but if e're he, I say,
VVho truly merit Alms, did go away,
VVhen begging at my door, without supply
Of both food and apparel, or did ly
VVithout my walls, in winters cold, and snow,
Naked, so far as ever I did know.
Extended, whose weak pupularity
Did render them obnoxious to the tricks
Of all contriving Guardian Empyricks:
But ev'n to those of age, whom poverty
Had hurried into want, and misery,
At all times I'de extend my charity.
I'de give them food, I'de give them raiment too,
And pensions out of my own stores allow
For their subsistence: so that I may say
VVith a safe Conscience,—
If ever mortal stood before my door,
VVhom th'only hand of God had rendred poor,
(For of such canting Rogues, as do oppress
The Countrey with a begging idleness,
I do not mean) but if e're he, I say,
VVho truly merit Alms, did go away,
VVhen begging at my door, without supply
Of both food and apparel, or did ly
VVithout my walls, in winters cold, and snow,
Naked, so far as ever I did know.
267
For on the contrare, I did with much care
Cloathing provide for those, who truly were
Objects of Charity, that every day
Those Creatures, for my well-being, would pray,
And when they on their Garments look't, would blesse
The man who kindly clad them with his Fleece.
Cloathing provide for those, who truly were
Objects of Charity, that every day
Those Creatures, for my well-being, would pray,
And when they on their Garments look't, would blesse
The man who kindly clad them with his Fleece.
If ever I took pleasure to oppresse,
Or, in the least injure the fatherlesse,
By unjust suits: though by my influence
Upon the Judges, I might have from thence
Expected what I pleas'd, and they had been
Well pleas'd to favour me, though they had seen
On my side flat injustice: yet would these
Jump o're the belly of the Laws, to please
So great a man as I was: no, my friends,
I scorn'd to use my power for such bad ends,
I did abhor such shifts, and did detest
Those sneaking Judges, who would dar to wrest
Justice, to favour any man, or bend
The bow of Law so high, to please a friend.
Or, in the least injure the fatherlesse,
By unjust suits: though by my influence
Upon the Judges, I might have from thence
Expected what I pleas'd, and they had been
Well pleas'd to favour me, though they had seen
On my side flat injustice: yet would these
Jump o're the belly of the Laws, to please
So great a man as I was: no, my friends,
I scorn'd to use my power for such bad ends,
I did abhor such shifts, and did detest
Those sneaking Judges, who would dar to wrest
Justice, to favour any man, or bend
The bow of Law so high, to please a friend.
If ever then, I say, I did practise
Such unjust courses, or did make a prize
Of any Orphan, as I might ha' done
In former times, had I been such an one,
As I've been represented, when my state
Was high, and powerful, thus I imprecate,
If I be guilty of such villany,
Then let this arm you see be instantly
Torn from my shoulder, let the flesh anon
In a foul Gangreen rot off from the bone.
Such unjust courses, or did make a prize
Of any Orphan, as I might ha' done
In former times, had I been such an one,
As I've been represented, when my state
Was high, and powerful, thus I imprecate,
If I be guilty of such villany,
Then let this arm you see be instantly
Torn from my shoulder, let the flesh anon
In a foul Gangreen rot off from the bone.
For why should I, who firmly did believe,
The eye of God did all mens ways perceive,
And that, that God, who surely hears the cry
Of all oppressed, will undoubtedly
In his good time, upon such wicked men,
Death, and Destruction, plentifully rain.
Why, my good friends, should I who stood in awe,
Of his great Power, ha' violate his Law:
No, no, I knew my Maker was too high
To be out-brav'd by such a one as I,
And therefore I such practises forbore,
Through fear of him: and truly did abhore
All unjust dealings, that I might comply
In all my actings with that Majesty,
Who is all justice, and pure equity.
The eye of God did all mens ways perceive,
And that, that God, who surely hears the cry
Of all oppressed, will undoubtedly
In his good time, upon such wicked men,
Death, and Destruction, plentifully rain.
Why, my good friends, should I who stood in awe,
Of his great Power, ha' violate his Law:
No, no, I knew my Maker was too high
To be out-brav'd by such a one as I,
And therefore I such practises forbore,
Through fear of him: and truly did abhore
All unjust dealings, that I might comply
In all my actings with that Majesty,
Who is all justice, and pure equity.
Again, because I did my self perswade,
Gold was the root of every thing that's bad;
And that the love of Riches did entice,
The best of men to be in love with vice;
(For he, whose Soul doth in his Coffers dwell,
With Bag, and Baggage, marches straight to Hell.)
For this cause, when in wealth I did abound,
And my huge riches made a mighty sound
Amongst my neighbours, I would never rate
My happinesse by th'bulk of my Estate.
No, no, I look'd on all I did enjoy
Not worth my thoughts, nor would I e're employ
The least part of my time in valuing
My self in that contentment Gold doth bring:
For, though as much as many I possess't,
Yet on that dust my spirit did not rest,
I never look'd on't as a sure defence
'Gainst misery, nor plac'd my confidence
In that weak Rampart, as if all my store,
(Although I had possess'd some ten times more)
Had e're been able to withstand one hour,
The Battery of Divine Wrath.
No, no, what's all, that we on Earth possesse,
Our Lands, our Stores, our Money, what, alace,
Do all these triffles signify when wrath
From Heaven assault us! or approaching Death
Hangs out his bloody Flag, and bids us soon
Yeeld up our Fortresse, or he'll throw it down.
O where are all our Stores, and Treasures then!
Where all our Wealth, which with much toile, and pain,
We'd had rear'd up, as a most sure defence
Against all troubles! where's that confidence,
Which in our count'nance did before appear,
Where's all our hope! where all our courage! where
Are all our mighty Allies, where is all
The valour of our boasting Mineral!
Oh, where is all its force when death appears,
And we're invested by an host of fears!
Nay, where are they, when Heavens King in wrath,
Against their master doth his Sword unsheath,
Why, these same peaceful Warriors assoon,
As they perceive the enemy take down
Their glorious Ensigns, pack up all anon,
And in a moment they are fled, and gone,
Leaving their hopelesse master all alone.
T'endure the Siege.
O brave Assistants! O stout Legionaries!
O hopes of men! O firm Auxiliaries!
Who make your owners foolishly believe
You can do wonders, when they do perceive,
What glorious show you make in time of peace,
But dar not look an enemy i'th' face.
Who then would trust to those same cowardly troops,
In time of trouble? who would place their hopes
In such a crew of aery painted things,
Which we call riches! Creatures that have wings;
And on the high boughs of prosperity
Do sweetly chirp, but when adversity
Begins to fire, away like smoke they fly.
In such vain things then would I never trust,
Nor valu'd them more then as useful dust,
By which we live with some convenience,
But in them ne're would place my confidence.
Gold was the root of every thing that's bad;
And that the love of Riches did entice,
The best of men to be in love with vice;
(For he, whose Soul doth in his Coffers dwell,
With Bag, and Baggage, marches straight to Hell.)
For this cause, when in wealth I did abound,
And my huge riches made a mighty sound
Amongst my neighbours, I would never rate
268
No, no, I look'd on all I did enjoy
Not worth my thoughts, nor would I e're employ
The least part of my time in valuing
My self in that contentment Gold doth bring:
For, though as much as many I possess't,
Yet on that dust my spirit did not rest,
I never look'd on't as a sure defence
'Gainst misery, nor plac'd my confidence
In that weak Rampart, as if all my store,
(Although I had possess'd some ten times more)
Had e're been able to withstand one hour,
The Battery of Divine Wrath.
No, no, what's all, that we on Earth possesse,
Our Lands, our Stores, our Money, what, alace,
Do all these triffles signify when wrath
From Heaven assault us! or approaching Death
Hangs out his bloody Flag, and bids us soon
Yeeld up our Fortresse, or he'll throw it down.
O where are all our Stores, and Treasures then!
Where all our Wealth, which with much toile, and pain,
We'd had rear'd up, as a most sure defence
Against all troubles! where's that confidence,
Which in our count'nance did before appear,
Where's all our hope! where all our courage! where
Are all our mighty Allies, where is all
The valour of our boasting Mineral!
Oh, where is all its force when death appears,
And we're invested by an host of fears!
Nay, where are they, when Heavens King in wrath,
Against their master doth his Sword unsheath,
Why, these same peaceful Warriors assoon,
As they perceive the enemy take down
Their glorious Ensigns, pack up all anon,
And in a moment they are fled, and gone,
Leaving their hopelesse master all alone.
T'endure the Siege.
O brave Assistants! O stout Legionaries!
O hopes of men! O firm Auxiliaries!
Who make your owners foolishly believe
You can do wonders, when they do perceive,
What glorious show you make in time of peace,
But dar not look an enemy i'th' face.
Who then would trust to those same cowardly troops,
In time of trouble? who would place their hopes
In such a crew of aery painted things,
Which we call riches! Creatures that have wings;
And on the high boughs of prosperity
Do sweetly chirp, but when adversity
Begins to fire, away like smoke they fly.
In such vain things then would I never trust,
Nor valu'd them more then as useful dust,
By which we live with some convenience,
But in them ne're would place my confidence.
269
Because I knew such emptie things as these,
Were only the Concomitants of Peace:
And when afflictions winds began to roar,
In rising Billows signify'd no more,
Then wicker anchors, hausers made of dust,
Or Ropes of Feathers, in which none would trust.
Therefore, my friends, I never valued
My self, upon what I had purchased:
I never thought I should be more esteem'd,
'Cause I was rich, or should be happy nam'd,
Because in plenty: or 'cause Means encreass't,
To be repute above my neighbours bless't;
Or, because wealthie, that I liv'd in ease:
No, I knew always better things, then these
I knew indeed, and to this hour I know,
There's nothing more ridiculous here below,
Nothing more silly, nothing more absurd,
Nothing more indiscreet: yea, in a word,
Nothing more wilfully irrational,
Amongst us mortals, then for men to call
This, or that Person Prudent, Knowing, Wise,
Only because he's rich, and to despise
Others, 'cause poor, and say they have no wit,
Because they have not reap'd such benefit
In their transactions, as those others have,
And so by each mans successe do conceive
He's wise, or foolish. Whereas commonlie,
The first are men of small sagacitie,
Dull, and Phlegmatick, and the latter are
Often in parts, and prudence singular.
For God has ordred, in his Providence,
It should be so, that men may learn from thence
Th'Art of contentment, whilst they seriously
Observe, with what discreet variety,
He doth bestow his Gifts, Knowledge to these,
Wealth to these others: and that none possess
All blessings upon Earth: for he whom Wealth
Doth crown with plenty, usually of health
Is destitute; whilst he whom poverty
Puts to sad pinches, with his Family,
Enjoys it fullie: he whom parts adorn
Is despicably poor, and laugh't to scorn,
By those whom Means have rendred boldly proud,
Whilst of rich fools the world doth talk aloud,
As th'only wise men. To some he allows
Wealth without issue, others he endows
With a fair Off-spring: but scarce competence
For feeding of 'em with convenience.
To others he gives both, but thinks not fit,
T'enrich them with a treasury of wit:
And all that God to us would signify,
By this remarkable variety
Of Dispensations is undoubtedly
This only.—
That since all blessings do from him alone
Proceed, and that 'tis in the power of none
To become masters of these qualities,
And be Rich, Fruitful, full of Health, and Wise,
Or to attain by toile, or strength of art,
That which he only freely doth impart,
To whom he will, that men may not be proud
Of what to them is by his Grace allow'd,
Nor boast of any prosperous condition,
Which cann't be say'd to be their acquisition.
Were only the Concomitants of Peace:
And when afflictions winds began to roar,
In rising Billows signify'd no more,
Then wicker anchors, hausers made of dust,
Or Ropes of Feathers, in which none would trust.
Therefore, my friends, I never valued
My self, upon what I had purchased:
I never thought I should be more esteem'd,
'Cause I was rich, or should be happy nam'd,
Because in plenty: or 'cause Means encreass't,
To be repute above my neighbours bless't;
Or, because wealthie, that I liv'd in ease:
No, I knew always better things, then these
I knew indeed, and to this hour I know,
There's nothing more ridiculous here below,
Nothing more silly, nothing more absurd,
Nothing more indiscreet: yea, in a word,
Nothing more wilfully irrational,
Amongst us mortals, then for men to call
This, or that Person Prudent, Knowing, Wise,
Only because he's rich, and to despise
Others, 'cause poor, and say they have no wit,
Because they have not reap'd such benefit
In their transactions, as those others have,
And so by each mans successe do conceive
He's wise, or foolish. Whereas commonlie,
The first are men of small sagacitie,
Dull, and Phlegmatick, and the latter are
Often in parts, and prudence singular.
For God has ordred, in his Providence,
It should be so, that men may learn from thence
Th'Art of contentment, whilst they seriously
Observe, with what discreet variety,
He doth bestow his Gifts, Knowledge to these,
Wealth to these others: and that none possess
All blessings upon Earth: for he whom Wealth
Doth crown with plenty, usually of health
Is destitute; whilst he whom poverty
Puts to sad pinches, with his Family,
Enjoys it fullie: he whom parts adorn
Is despicably poor, and laugh't to scorn,
By those whom Means have rendred boldly proud,
Whilst of rich fools the world doth talk aloud,
As th'only wise men. To some he allows
Wealth without issue, others he endows
With a fair Off-spring: but scarce competence
For feeding of 'em with convenience.
To others he gives both, but thinks not fit,
T'enrich them with a treasury of wit:
And all that God to us would signify,
By this remarkable variety
Of Dispensations is undoubtedly
This only.—
270
Proceed, and that 'tis in the power of none
To become masters of these qualities,
And be Rich, Fruitful, full of Health, and Wise,
Or to attain by toile, or strength of art,
That which he only freely doth impart,
To whom he will, that men may not be proud
Of what to them is by his Grace allow'd,
Nor boast of any prosperous condition,
Which cann't be say'd to be their acquisition.
Besides, if we'll but think how mean esteem
God has for Riches, we will quickly blame
That vulgar apprehension, which doth pitch,
Its silly slubbering fancy on the rich;
Who generally are but men of base,
Unworthy, and unhallowed Prineiples,
Men of mean spirits, and deceitful hearts,
Great Master of the most pernicious arts
Of couz'ning, and oppression: men of wealth,
Term'd by the world, because by cunning stealth
They've rais'd Estates: men they are seldom bred
In any Learning, scarce intituled
To moral virtue: men who take no pleasure
In any Science, but upon their treasure
Do fix their Souls: and yet dare do no more,
Then with devout eyes, gaze upon their Ore,
But thinks't a sin to touch that sacred score.
Hence those poor Silk-worms, with great toile, and pain,
Spin out their Bowels, to make orhers gain:
Not living, mean time, on the precious fruit
Of their own Labours (which without dispute,
Is none of theirs,) on Leaves they meanly feed.
And 'midst their riches are half-famished,
They're men, whose sordid labours have no end,
For when great store of riches they have gain'd,
They vex themselves no lesse in the tuition,
Of these sad toyes, then in their acquisition.
For there's a certain Idol, on which all
Those Sons of Earth do every moment call
An Idol by these had in great esteem,
Which in their phrase security they name,
This they with vows, this they with offerings load,
This is their patron, this their houshold god:
Yet that security they can never find,
For all their art, in which their troubled mind
Doth fully rest, for still some point doth lake,
Of this, or 'tother evident to make
A compleat Right, and sure establishment
Of what these men, have purchased, or lent.
So on they go in all the Chicanries,
Which their well hired Scriv'ners can devise
To make it out: though to make them secure,
Many an honest Fam'ly should endure
Great want, and hunger, for they seize on all
Their Debtors means, and constantly do baule
About the Courts of Justice, for supply
Of legal Forces; for security,
Of what they've seiz'd, whilst in a modest sense,
They call these rascally actings diligence.
God has for Riches, we will quickly blame
That vulgar apprehension, which doth pitch,
Its silly slubbering fancy on the rich;
Who generally are but men of base,
Unworthy, and unhallowed Prineiples,
Men of mean spirits, and deceitful hearts,
Great Master of the most pernicious arts
Of couz'ning, and oppression: men of wealth,
Term'd by the world, because by cunning stealth
They've rais'd Estates: men they are seldom bred
In any Learning, scarce intituled
To moral virtue: men who take no pleasure
In any Science, but upon their treasure
Do fix their Souls: and yet dare do no more,
Then with devout eyes, gaze upon their Ore,
But thinks't a sin to touch that sacred score.
Hence those poor Silk-worms, with great toile, and pain,
Spin out their Bowels, to make orhers gain:
Not living, mean time, on the precious fruit
Of their own Labours (which without dispute,
Is none of theirs,) on Leaves they meanly feed.
And 'midst their riches are half-famished,
They're men, whose sordid labours have no end,
For when great store of riches they have gain'd,
They vex themselves no lesse in the tuition,
Of these sad toyes, then in their acquisition.
For there's a certain Idol, on which all
Those Sons of Earth do every moment call
An Idol by these had in great esteem,
Which in their phrase security they name,
This they with vows, this they with offerings load,
This is their patron, this their houshold god:
Yet that security they can never find,
For all their art, in which their troubled mind
Doth fully rest, for still some point doth lake,
Of this, or 'tother evident to make
A compleat Right, and sure establishment
Of what these men, have purchased, or lent.
So on they go in all the Chicanries,
Which their well hired Scriv'ners can devise
To make it out: though to make them secure,
Many an honest Fam'ly should endure
Great want, and hunger, for they seize on all
271
About the Courts of Justice, for supply
Of legal Forces; for security,
Of what they've seiz'd, whilst in a modest sense,
They call these rascally actings diligence.
They're men, whose riches one would apprehend,
'Bove want had rais'd them, so as they might spend
Their days in peace, without all anxious cares,
Yet are they night-mar'd with continual fears,
That all their wealth may be before they dy,
Converted to a scene of poverty;
Or if their treasures they entire should save,
And never bid them farewell, till the Grave
Should shrowd them from their sight, yet still their fear
Encreases, and they anxious appear,
In all their looks, for still they fear at least,
Their idle Heirs may prodigally waste
In a few years, what they in many gain'd,
And that dear wealth luxuriously spend;
Which they had purchas'd with much sweat, and toile,
That wealth, they fear, shall now become the spoile
Of Whores, and Gamesters: hence most anxiously,
They waste their days, in great perplexity,
How they should mould, and order their affairs,
That they may from the rapine of their Heirs,
Preserve their Means. Besides, although they are
For most part without issue, yet their care
Is not a whit the lesse, then that of these
Whose gaping mouths; but not their Means encrease,
For then they're tortur'd with anxieties,
How their Estates they firmly may devise,
And answer all mens importunities,
Who do expect.—
At length when they have cruciat their brain,
In setling on't, and o're, and o're again,
Have form'd their Wills, vex'd with a thousand fears,
Not knowing whom to institute their Heirs:
Whilst all their friends, and languishing relations,
Do feed themselves with aery expectations,
And by their several interests do strive,
To be their Heirs, whilst they are yet alive;
Age, and diseases creeping on apace,
Makes them in haste resolve upon the case,
They make some deeds, and all to these transmit,
Who least expected: yet for all their wit,
It oft falls out, the deeds, which they cause draw
At such times informality of Law
Are defective: so that they're hardly cold,
When th'Tables being opened, some lay hold
On this, or 'tother clause: hence angry Pleas
Burst out on all hands, and each one doth seize
On what he can: suits are commenc'd, and all
The disappointed to their actions fall:
With heat, and clamour each of 'em pretends
His Title to it, and what Gold, and Friends
Can do is then essay'd: much time is spent,
In their loud pleadings, many an argument
Is shot on all hands: whilst they do debate,
Like fools, and children, with great noise, and heat,
For the possession of a fools Estate.
At last, when with such bauling wearied,
And by their actions much impov'rished,
All those, who are concern'd incline to treat,
And their expence begin to calculat,
They find that Lawyers, Proctors, Scriviners,
And Clerks, not they, have been the truest Heirs
Of the poor Mole: and that which now remains,
Scarce countervails their losse of time, and pains.
'Bove want had rais'd them, so as they might spend
Their days in peace, without all anxious cares,
Yet are they night-mar'd with continual fears,
That all their wealth may be before they dy,
Converted to a scene of poverty;
Or if their treasures they entire should save,
And never bid them farewell, till the Grave
Should shrowd them from their sight, yet still their fear
Encreases, and they anxious appear,
In all their looks, for still they fear at least,
Their idle Heirs may prodigally waste
In a few years, what they in many gain'd,
And that dear wealth luxuriously spend;
Which they had purchas'd with much sweat, and toile,
That wealth, they fear, shall now become the spoile
Of Whores, and Gamesters: hence most anxiously,
They waste their days, in great perplexity,
How they should mould, and order their affairs,
That they may from the rapine of their Heirs,
Preserve their Means. Besides, although they are
For most part without issue, yet their care
Is not a whit the lesse, then that of these
Whose gaping mouths; but not their Means encrease,
For then they're tortur'd with anxieties,
How their Estates they firmly may devise,
And answer all mens importunities,
Who do expect.—
At length when they have cruciat their brain,
In setling on't, and o're, and o're again,
Have form'd their Wills, vex'd with a thousand fears,
Not knowing whom to institute their Heirs:
Whilst all their friends, and languishing relations,
Do feed themselves with aery expectations,
And by their several interests do strive,
To be their Heirs, whilst they are yet alive;
Age, and diseases creeping on apace,
Makes them in haste resolve upon the case,
They make some deeds, and all to these transmit,
Who least expected: yet for all their wit,
It oft falls out, the deeds, which they cause draw
At such times informality of Law
Are defective: so that they're hardly cold,
When th'Tables being opened, some lay hold
On this, or 'tother clause: hence angry Pleas
Burst out on all hands, and each one doth seize
On what he can: suits are commenc'd, and all
The disappointed to their actions fall:
With heat, and clamour each of 'em pretends
272
Can do is then essay'd: much time is spent,
In their loud pleadings, many an argument
Is shot on all hands: whilst they do debate,
Like fools, and children, with great noise, and heat,
For the possession of a fools Estate.
At last, when with such bauling wearied,
And by their actions much impov'rished,
All those, who are concern'd incline to treat,
And their expence begin to calculat,
They find that Lawyers, Proctors, Scriviners,
And Clerks, not they, have been the truest Heirs
Of the poor Mole: and that which now remains,
Scarce countervails their losse of time, and pains.
These are your rich-men now, these are the men
Whom you call wise, of whom scarce one of ten,
As I've observ'd, do either live, or dy,
Like men of wit, and judgement, these are they
Whom th'world esteemed; though neither happy, wise,
Nor learn'd, nor moral; whilst they do despise
All that are owners of those qualities,
Because perhaps they're poor.—
Whom you call wise, of whom scarce one of ten,
As I've observ'd, do either live, or dy,
Like men of wit, and judgement, these are they
Whom th'world esteemed; though neither happy, wise,
Nor learn'd, nor moral; whilst they do despise
All that are owners of those qualities,
Because perhaps they're poor.—
O, partial world, that puts no other rate.
On men, but by the weight of their Estate!
Who from thy unjust scales record'st no more,
Then only this man's rich, and that man's poor.
Who naked virtue slights, and puts a price,
At all occasions, upon guilded vice:
Allowing nought for value, though men do
By daily commerce, in the weight allow
A fifth part lesse, to fine Wares in the pound,
Then to course Ware; but riches make a sound,
And proudly triumph all the world around.
Hence are their owners held in great esteem,
Though of small parts, whilst men the poor do name
But fools, and dunces,, though these do possess
Within their breasts, more solid happiness,
Then riches can afford, and generally
Are men of Virtue, Learning, Piety:
Men of true solid Knowledge, men of Wit,
Men, who do reap more lasting benefit,
I'th' product of one single contemplation,
Reduc'd thereafter into conversation,
By art and prudence in the application,
Then rich, laborious Spiders do possess
I'th' thoughts of all their Cobweb-purchases.
On men, but by the weight of their Estate!
Who from thy unjust scales record'st no more,
Then only this man's rich, and that man's poor.
Who naked virtue slights, and puts a price,
At all occasions, upon guilded vice:
Allowing nought for value, though men do
By daily commerce, in the weight allow
A fifth part lesse, to fine Wares in the pound,
Then to course Ware; but riches make a sound,
And proudly triumph all the world around.
Hence are their owners held in great esteem,
Though of small parts, whilst men the poor do name
But fools, and dunces,, though these do possess
Within their breasts, more solid happiness,
Then riches can afford, and generally
Are men of Virtue, Learning, Piety:
Men of true solid Knowledge, men of Wit,
Men, who do reap more lasting benefit,
I'th' product of one single contemplation,
Reduc'd thereafter into conversation,
By art and prudence in the application,
Then rich, laborious Spiders do possess
I'th' thoughts of all their Cobweb-purchases.
Yet all rich men, my friends, I do suppose
Are not of this kind: no, I mean of those
Only, who set their souls upon their dust,
And in their changeling riches put their trust.
For I know many, who great means possess,
Yet as the least part of their happiness,
They do esteem them; but as piously
They live, so with contentment, when they dy,
They leave their means to their posterity.
Nay such, as waste their profitable years,
Without a mixture of some worldly cares,
Pleasing themselves with things o'th' present tense,
And lay up nothing for convenience,
In their old age: nor labour t'entertain
Their Fam'lies by some sober, lawful gain;
If it be in their power; though men of parts,
Of Virtue, Knowledge, Literature, and Arts,
I hold for Fools, and Sinners: I confess
I never was in love, with Idleness,
In any man; nor do I think it just
Men should live idlie, and pretend they trust
In Providence; no, there's great difference,
'Twixt trusting in, and tempting Providence.
For, though, at first, th'Almightie did demise
To man this vast, and spacious superfice
O'th' Earth, to have, and hold it for his use;
That without manuring, it might produce
All that the state of Humane Life requir'd
Or th'int'rest of Society desir'd,
Yet was this noble Grant original
Quickly renvers'd, and cancell'd by the Fall;
For now perceiving that such affluence
Was inconsistent with mans innocence
After the forfaulture in Paradise,
On other terms, he did this Earth devise
To th'sons of men, that it should yield them nought,
But what with labour, and great toil they bought.
Hence 'tis if any man should think t'obtain
The good things of this Earth, without some pain,
For all his Virtue, Wit, and Literature,
'Tis just that by a second forfaulture,
His portion of this Earth he should amit,
And be condemn'd to live upon his Wit,
'Cause contrair to the tenour of his Grant,
He doth not labour to supply his want.
Are not of this kind: no, I mean of those
Only, who set their souls upon their dust,
And in their changeling riches put their trust.
For I know many, who great means possess,
Yet as the least part of their happiness,
They do esteem them; but as piously
They live, so with contentment, when they dy,
They leave their means to their posterity.
273
Without a mixture of some worldly cares,
Pleasing themselves with things o'th' present tense,
And lay up nothing for convenience,
In their old age: nor labour t'entertain
Their Fam'lies by some sober, lawful gain;
If it be in their power; though men of parts,
Of Virtue, Knowledge, Literature, and Arts,
I hold for Fools, and Sinners: I confess
I never was in love, with Idleness,
In any man; nor do I think it just
Men should live idlie, and pretend they trust
In Providence; no, there's great difference,
'Twixt trusting in, and tempting Providence.
For, though, at first, th'Almightie did demise
To man this vast, and spacious superfice
O'th' Earth, to have, and hold it for his use;
That without manuring, it might produce
All that the state of Humane Life requir'd
Or th'int'rest of Society desir'd,
Yet was this noble Grant original
Quickly renvers'd, and cancell'd by the Fall;
For now perceiving that such affluence
Was inconsistent with mans innocence
After the forfaulture in Paradise,
On other terms, he did this Earth devise
To th'sons of men, that it should yield them nought,
But what with labour, and great toil they bought.
Hence 'tis if any man should think t'obtain
The good things of this Earth, without some pain,
For all his Virtue, Wit, and Literature,
'Tis just that by a second forfaulture,
His portion of this Earth he should amit,
And be condemn'd to live upon his Wit,
'Cause contrair to the tenour of his Grant,
He doth not labour to supply his want.
As you have heard me then impartially
Discourse of that stupendious vanity,
Which we call Wealth: I hope you will believe
My friends, that I, when Rich, did not conceive
My self the happier 'cause I did possess
Those things, which only Fools call Happiness.
No, for if I could in Prosperity,
Have only brag'd of Riches, certainly
Then had I merit in all just mens eyes
T'ha' been thought neither happy, just, nor wise.
Discourse of that stupendious vanity,
Which we call Wealth: I hope you will believe
My friends, that I, when Rich, did not conceive
My self the happier 'cause I did possess
Those things, which only Fools call Happiness.
No, for if I could in Prosperity,
Have only brag'd of Riches, certainly
Then had I merit in all just mens eyes
T'ha' been thought neither happy, just, nor wise.
And now, my friends, since you have patiently
Heard an account of my Morality;
In the next place, I must request of you
To hear th'account of my Religion too:
That when I'me gone, you freely may declare
These passages of me, which now you hear,
And, as good men, your justice testifie,
At least in showing how you heard me die:
That th'unjust World at length may be asham'd
To have me without Reason so defam'd:
From such just men, as you, I do expect
No less; to you therefore I shall direct,
My full, but last Confession of Faith,
That, if not in my life, yet after death
Has stop'd my mouth, when you hear any speak,
Of your deceased friend, with disrespect,
You may assure them, I was no such man,
As I was represented: nay you can,
(If you believe what I now speak is true)
You can, I say that Argument pursue,
With so much Candor, Art, and Eloquence,
As you may soon perswade all men of sense
How much I've been abus'd, how much injur'd
By bloody Tongues, and they may be assur'd
That all the ill things they have heard of me,
When I've been censur'd in a high degree
By foul-mouth'd Tiplers, have been only Lies,
Unjust Reproaches, and base Calumnies.
Heard an account of my Morality;
In the next place, I must request of you
To hear th'account of my Religion too:
That when I'me gone, you freely may declare
These passages of me, which now you hear,
And, as good men, your justice testifie,
At least in showing how you heard me die:
274
To have me without Reason so defam'd:
From such just men, as you, I do expect
No less; to you therefore I shall direct,
My full, but last Confession of Faith,
That, if not in my life, yet after death
Has stop'd my mouth, when you hear any speak,
Of your deceased friend, with disrespect,
You may assure them, I was no such man,
As I was represented: nay you can,
(If you believe what I now speak is true)
You can, I say that Argument pursue,
With so much Candor, Art, and Eloquence,
As you may soon perswade all men of sense
How much I've been abus'd, how much injur'd
By bloody Tongues, and they may be assur'd
That all the ill things they have heard of me,
When I've been censur'd in a high degree
By foul-mouth'd Tiplers, have been only Lies,
Unjust Reproaches, and base Calumnies.
First then, my friends, I since my Infancie,
Firmly believ'd, that from Eternitie
There was one God, who all things did create,
One only God; whose Power doth regulate
The universal World in Soveraignty,
And doth by a Supream Authority
Give Laws to all: and save that God alone,
Man of a Woman born should worship none.
And therefore those, that did the Sun adore,
The Moon, or Stars, I truly did abhore.
Firmly believ'd, that from Eternitie
There was one God, who all things did create,
One only God; whose Power doth regulate
The universal World in Soveraignty,
And doth by a Supream Authority
Give Laws to all: and save that God alone,
Man of a Woman born should worship none.
And therefore those, that did the Sun adore,
The Moon, or Stars, I truly did abhore.
Nay, though those splendid Creatures I esteem'd
Beyond all others, which his hands had fram'd,
Yet were those glorious parts of the Creation
Only the subject of my admiration,
But not of my devotion: for indeed
As in a Picture, I in these would read
The immense Power of him, whose mighty hand
At first did mould them, by whose sole command
They did exist; and to this Hour obey
Their first directions: whilst the Sun by day,
The Moon, and Stars by night the World survey,
By his sole order, and acknowledge none
For their Superiour, but Heavens King alone.
Hence would I looke on them with admiration,
But at no time, with secret veneration,
Only as those at Court a leg will make
T'th' Princes Servants, for their Masters sake:
So when I'de see the Sun, at morning rise,
With great devotion, I would turn my eyes
To th'East, and with uplifted hands, confess
Gods greatness, and my own unworthiness,
T'approach the Throne of that bright Deity,
Who keep'd such servants in his Family,
As was that Creature, in one single beam
Darting more splendor, then all those we name
Kings here on Earth, with all their glorious shows,
Patch'd up in one can on the World impose.
Again, when I this Creature could espy
Shining at Noon-tyde in his Majesty;
Then would my soul fly out in admiration,
Of him, who's Author of the whole Creation,
When such a member of it in its Sphere
So worthy admiration doth appear,
And through that glorious Prospect I'de descry
The beauty of the Divine Majesty.
As at great distance. When again at night
I'de see it from the World withdraw its light,
Then would I think, what's all our glory here,
When even th'illustrious Sun, which did appear
In stately splendor, but some hours ago,
Is now extinct, with all it pompous show.
Then, when I'de see the Moon, and Stars draw out,
Like the Night-watch, and walk the Round about
This spacious Globe; I'de think, O what must he,
Who entertains such Guards, what must he be!
What must he be, to whom those glorious things,
Perform such service! sure he's King of kings:
For there's no Prince on Earth, with all his power
That can command those Forces, for one hour
To stop their march: nay not the Sun by day,
Nor in the night will Moon, and Stars obey
Their Edicts, but proceed in their Carreer,
And on their duty still by turns appear,
As their instructions from their Master bear.
Beyond all others, which his hands had fram'd,
Yet were those glorious parts of the Creation
Only the subject of my admiration,
But not of my devotion: for indeed
As in a Picture, I in these would read
The immense Power of him, whose mighty hand
At first did mould them, by whose sole command
They did exist; and to this Hour obey
Their first directions: whilst the Sun by day,
The Moon, and Stars by night the World survey,
By his sole order, and acknowledge none
For their Superiour, but Heavens King alone.
Hence would I looke on them with admiration,
But at no time, with secret veneration,
Only as those at Court a leg will make
T'th' Princes Servants, for their Masters sake:
So when I'de see the Sun, at morning rise,
With great devotion, I would turn my eyes
To th'East, and with uplifted hands, confess
Gods greatness, and my own unworthiness,
T'approach the Throne of that bright Deity,
Who keep'd such servants in his Family,
As was that Creature, in one single beam
Darting more splendor, then all those we name
275
Patch'd up in one can on the World impose.
Again, when I this Creature could espy
Shining at Noon-tyde in his Majesty;
Then would my soul fly out in admiration,
Of him, who's Author of the whole Creation,
When such a member of it in its Sphere
So worthy admiration doth appear,
And through that glorious Prospect I'de descry
The beauty of the Divine Majesty.
As at great distance. When again at night
I'de see it from the World withdraw its light,
Then would I think, what's all our glory here,
When even th'illustrious Sun, which did appear
In stately splendor, but some hours ago,
Is now extinct, with all it pompous show.
Then, when I'de see the Moon, and Stars draw out,
Like the Night-watch, and walk the Round about
This spacious Globe; I'de think, O what must he,
Who entertains such Guards, what must he be!
What must he be, to whom those glorious things,
Perform such service! sure he's King of kings:
For there's no Prince on Earth, with all his power
That can command those Forces, for one hour
To stop their march: nay not the Sun by day,
Nor in the night will Moon, and Stars obey
Their Edicts, but proceed in their Carreer,
And on their duty still by turns appear,
As their instructions from their Master bear.
Thus, for respect to him, who these did frame,
Which, as so many Heralds do proclaim
His Glory far, and wide; at all occasions,
I'de honour them with pious Contemplations,
As Servants of that Heavenly Majesty,
Under whose feet all things created ly:
And by the splendor of such things, as these
I would the glory of their Maker guess;
As Artists, by Proportions Rules will show
The Bodies bulk, by measure of the Toe.
But, all my life-time, I would ne're allow
To any of 'em that honour, which is due
To God alone: though such Idolatry
Were not by Law repute Grand Fellony.
Which, as so many Heralds do proclaim
His Glory far, and wide; at all occasions,
I'de honour them with pious Contemplations,
As Servants of that Heavenly Majesty,
Under whose feet all things created ly:
And by the splendor of such things, as these
I would the glory of their Maker guess;
As Artists, by Proportions Rules will show
The Bodies bulk, by measure of the Toe.
But, all my life-time, I would ne're allow
To any of 'em that honour, which is due
To God alone: though such Idolatry
Were not by Law repute Grand Fellony.
Hence in this God alone I put my trust,
And 'cause he was impartially just:
When any one did me an injury,
To him alone I would my self apply.
I never was vindictive, never knew
That humour, which is but unknown to few,
That prompts men to revenge: I'de never strive
T'encroach upon his high Prerogative,
To whom alone Revenge doth appertain,
But would (shut up in patience) remain:
Until that God did think it proper time
For him to punish, and revenge the Crime.
And 'cause he was impartially just:
When any one did me an injury,
To him alone I would my self apply.
I never was vindictive, never knew
That humour, which is but unknown to few,
That prompts men to revenge: I'de never strive
T'encroach upon his high Prerogative,
To whom alone Revenge doth appertain,
But would (shut up in patience) remain:
Until that God did think it proper time
276
Yea though my cruel Enemies, God knows,
Would every day, when from their Bed they rose,
Bitterlie curse me, and my Family
Instead of Morning Prayer, yet would not I
Though these did hate me, as I hate the Devil,
To their unguarded souls wish any evil.
Would every day, when from their Bed they rose,
Bitterlie curse me, and my Family
Instead of Morning Prayer, yet would not I
Though these did hate me, as I hate the Devil,
To their unguarded souls wish any evil.
Nay though my followers, when they would perceive
How much I was injur'd: would trulie grieve
To see my usage, and at all occasions
Would own my Quarrel with dire imprecations,
And often wish it were to them allow'd
To take revenge, angrie they were withstood
By my commands: and often would repeat,
Would we had of those Villains flesh to eat,
Who have injur'd our Master, we would make
Those Slaves a bloody Victim for his sake.
Yet would I ne're consent, I'de ne're agree
That ever man should take revenge for me:
But on the contrair I would pardon those
Who wrong'd me, were they even my greatest Foes:
I never on revenge would meditate,
Nor thought my self oblig'd at any rate,
To quarrel those, who did me injuries,
Which rather then resent I would despise.
How much I was injur'd: would trulie grieve
To see my usage, and at all occasions
Would own my Quarrel with dire imprecations,
And often wish it were to them allow'd
To take revenge, angrie they were withstood
By my commands: and often would repeat,
Would we had of those Villains flesh to eat,
Who have injur'd our Master, we would make
Those Slaves a bloody Victim for his sake.
Yet would I ne're consent, I'de ne're agree
That ever man should take revenge for me:
But on the contrair I would pardon those
Who wrong'd me, were they even my greatest Foes:
I never on revenge would meditate,
Nor thought my self oblig'd at any rate,
To quarrel those, who did me injuries,
Which rather then resent I would despise.
But O I took delight in Charity,
By taking always opportunity
T'assist all Persons, whom I knew to be
In want, as oft as they apply'd to me.
The wearied Traveller, whose lean Purse did shrink
Below the credit of a cup of Drink;
Whose Visage, and Apparel look'd so thin,
He was a very Bug-bear to an Inn:
All destitute, or'edaub'd with Dust, and Sweat,
Readie to take up lodgings in the Street;
Into my House I'de always kindlie take,
And entertain him, for his Makers sake.
By taking always opportunity
T'assist all Persons, whom I knew to be
In want, as oft as they apply'd to me.
The wearied Traveller, whose lean Purse did shrink
Below the credit of a cup of Drink;
Whose Visage, and Apparel look'd so thin,
He was a very Bug-bear to an Inn:
All destitute, or'edaub'd with Dust, and Sweat,
Readie to take up lodgings in the Street;
Into my House I'de always kindlie take,
And entertain him, for his Makers sake.
Now though those Virtues did possess my breast,
And I all sinful courses did detest:
Yet, if at any time, I'de chance to fail,
And some strong sin against me did prevail
Then would I not my Conscience abuse,
By framing of some pitiful excuse:
As once poor Adam did t'extenuate
The error, which he could not palliate:
No no, such stale devices I abhor'd,
And therefore, when I fail'd, I'de in a word,
Upon my knees, with hands uplifted, cry,
Lord I have sin'd: Lord I have wilfully
Incurr'd thy anger at this sad occasion,
And so deserve to bear thy indignation.
For, trust me, such as freelie do confess
Their sins, and with an open heart address
Themselves to God, are always better heard,
Then those, whose cautious Mouths, as if affear'd
T'accuse their Hearts, do mincingly declare
What hardly they desire that God should hear.
And I all sinful courses did detest:
Yet, if at any time, I'de chance to fail,
And some strong sin against me did prevail
Then would I not my Conscience abuse,
By framing of some pitiful excuse:
As once poor Adam did t'extenuate
The error, which he could not palliate:
No no, such stale devices I abhor'd,
And therefore, when I fail'd, I'de in a word,
Upon my knees, with hands uplifted, cry,
Lord I have sin'd: Lord I have wilfully
Incurr'd thy anger at this sad occasion,
And so deserve to bear thy indignation.
For, trust me, such as freelie do confess
Their sins, and with an open heart address
Themselves to God, are always better heard,
277
T'accuse their Hearts, do mincingly declare
What hardly they desire that God should hear.
And here, my friends, I must again protest,
I don't remember ever in my breast,
Such sinful thoughts did entertainment find,
As those, to which too many are inclin'd.
For (trust me now) though I in Wealth, and Power
Did live for many years, yet to that hour
That God was pleas'd to visit me, I never
Would use that Power, on what account soever,
To th'prejudice of any man, although,
Had I inclin'd t'have us'd my Neighbours so,
As others did, I might have done with ease,
What ever might a rich mans humour please.
For I to others could ha' given Law
And made all in my District, stand in aw;
Yet I'de not injure the most despicable,
Nor do offence to th'meanest of the Rabble.
I don't remember ever in my breast,
Such sinful thoughts did entertainment find,
As those, to which too many are inclin'd.
For (trust me now) though I in Wealth, and Power
Did live for many years, yet to that hour
That God was pleas'd to visit me, I never
Would use that Power, on what account soever,
To th'prejudice of any man, although,
Had I inclin'd t'have us'd my Neighbours so,
As others did, I might have done with ease,
What ever might a rich mans humour please.
For I to others could ha' given Law
And made all in my District, stand in aw;
Yet I'de not injure the most despicable,
Nor do offence to th'meanest of the Rabble.
But what needs more! O now that God would hear
What I have spoke: O that he would declare,
From what I have express'd in my defence,
His just opinion of my Innocence.
O that my God would hear me, O that he
Who knows Hearts-secrets would declare me free,
From those Aspersions, Lies, and Calumnies
Thund'red against me, by my Enemies.
For O should he a hearing once allow,
I'de laugh at these, and all their Libels too.
Nay let them write a Volumn, if they will
Yes, let them rail, and article their fill:
Let them paint out my actings, as they please,
And break my reputation by degrees:
Let them me Rogue, let them me Villain call,
Let God but hear me, I'de contemn them all.
What I have spoke: O that he would declare,
From what I have express'd in my defence,
His just opinion of my Innocence.
O that my God would hear me, O that he
Who knows Hearts-secrets would declare me free,
From those Aspersions, Lies, and Calumnies
Thund'red against me, by my Enemies.
For O should he a hearing once allow,
I'de laugh at these, and all their Libels too.
Nay let them write a Volumn, if they will
Yes, let them rail, and article their fill:
Let them paint out my actings, as they please,
And break my reputation by degrees:
Let them me Rogue, let them me Villain call,
Let God but hear me, I'de contemn them all.
For all, what these invidious men could say
Against me, in their wrath, should in the day
That God should hear me, prove for my defence,
And, stead of sullying, clear my Innocence:
For then their malice should it self declare
And in its own true Colours should appear.
Against me, in their wrath, should in the day
That God should hear me, prove for my defence,
And, stead of sullying, clear my Innocence:
For then their malice should it self declare
And in its own true Colours should appear.
But to my Judge I freely could confess
My hidden sins: and for the sins, which these
Lay to my charge; I'de give such evidence
Before him of my injur'd Innocence,
As I should by him be acquit from thence.
O let him hear me then, let God but hear
My Case himself, and then I do not fear
What all the World can say: for I do still
Assert my Innocence, (take it as you will.)
My hidden sins: and for the sins, which these
Lay to my charge; I'de give such evidence
Before him of my injur'd Innocence,
As I should by him be acquit from thence.
O let him hear me then, let God but hear
My Case himself, and then I do not fear
What all the World can say: for I do still
Assert my Innocence, (take it as you will.)
And now, my friends, that I may put an end
To my Discourse, because I apprehend
You'r weary now of hearing, as indeed
I am of speaking: I shall therefore plead
No more upon the case: but once for all,
My great Creator I to witness call;
That what I have profess'd, dear friends, to you,
Is not at all devis'd, but simply true.
For all my life, I safely may assert,
Before that God, who fully knows my heart;
That, to my knowledge, truly I did never,
In what state, or capacity soever,
Do any unjust thing: for to this day,
(What e're men speak) I can with freedome say,
If any man, who serv'd me, can complain
That ever I his Wages did retain.
To my Discourse, because I apprehend
You'r weary now of hearing, as indeed
I am of speaking: I shall therefore plead
278
My great Creator I to witness call;
That what I have profess'd, dear friends, to you,
Is not at all devis'd, but simply true.
For all my life, I safely may assert,
Before that God, who fully knows my heart;
That, to my knowledge, truly I did never,
In what state, or capacity soever,
Do any unjust thing: for to this day,
(What e're men speak) I can with freedome say,
If any man, who serv'd me, can complain
That ever I his Wages did retain.
If of my ground the increase I have eat,
Without first paying for the toil, and sweat
Of those, who labour'd it, or in the least
Muzzled the mouths of either man or beast
Who did tread out my corns: or did refuse
At any time the labourers honest dues;
If ever I did strive to multiply
My Revennes by fraud and usury:
Without first paying for the toil, and sweat
Of those, who labour'd it, or in the least
Muzzled the mouths of either man or beast
Who did tread out my corns: or did refuse
At any time the labourers honest dues;
If ever I did strive to multiply
My Revennes by fraud and usury:
Then let those grounds (which I do yet expect
I may possess) be cursed for my sake:
Let Cockle, stead of Barley, stead of Wheat,
Let Thistles all my grounds emacerate.
I may possess) be cursed for my sake:
Let Cockle, stead of Barley, stead of Wheat,
Let Thistles all my grounds emacerate.
Now I have done, my friends, shall add no more,
But once again, as I have done before,
I do conjure you by the love you owe
To your own souls, my dearest friends, although
You have no love for me; that you'll declare
Hereafter to the world, what now you hear:
This favour I expect you'll not deny
T'allow, for all that's past, to th'memory
Of one shriev'd by your selves, but boldly show
Th'abused world, more then as yet they know.
And tell that Job, whom ev'n good men envy'd
Wicked men hated, and all now deride,
Of avarice, hypocrisie, and pride,
Did clear himself, and as he liv'd he dy'd.
But once again, as I have done before,
I do conjure you by the love you owe
To your own souls, my dearest friends, although
You have no love for me; that you'll declare
Hereafter to the world, what now you hear:
This favour I expect you'll not deny
T'allow, for all that's past, to th'memory
Of one shriev'd by your selves, but boldly show
Th'abused world, more then as yet they know.
And tell that Job, whom ev'n good men envy'd
Wicked men hated, and all now deride,
Of avarice, hypocrisie, and pride,
Did clear himself, and as he liv'd he dy'd.
| The grand Tryal | |