The Poetical Works of the Ingenious and Learned William Meston ::

What, are you mad? Do you resolve to go,
And rather starve, than sign a line or two,
And swear as many? You are void of sense,
To humour such a squeamish conscience.
But I have sworn already, you may say,
To be a member of another way.
What then? And so have many more, you see,
Both men of eminent and low degree,
Who to their former oaths have bid adieu,
And purg'd them off, by taking of a new.
Are you more wise and skill'd than these men are?
I'm sure, good friend, you're not so rich by far.

Consider, Sir, if you refuse to swear,
You lose a place of ninety pounds a-year.
Consider you have neither lands nor rent,
And what you can command is quickly spent;
So you must beg, when from your post you're gone,
Or live on air, like the Chamelion:

186

Besides, you have a numerous family,
Which, if you will not swear, must beggars be;
This is an argument which hath prevail'd
With many men, when other topics fail'd.
But, to prevent the fountain of all ill,
Those who pretend of Oaths to have great skill,
Have, with good success, us'd the following pill.

Take of new coin'd distinctions a full ounce,
A pound of the nice quiddities of Duns;
A scruple of the grievance of the nation,
Mixt with a true blue Whig's equivocation;
Of all, well mixt, make up two pills, or one,
And gild them over with religion.
This pill will purge a scrup'lous conscience,
As I can tell you by experience;
It purg'd me so, that I can now digest,
The new Assurance, Covenant and Test,
So that I judge it is the least of crimes
To regulate my conscience by the times.

I, when I thought it would advance my gain,
Jure Divino Bishops did maintain,
Treated Jack Presbyter with ridicule,
Call'd him Tub-preacher, Puritan and Fool;
And, that I might appear to be no Whig,
I swore and drank, and danc'd the other jigg.
A little after that I turn'd my coat,
And tun'd my fiddle to another note;
I stretch'd my conscience to the full extent,
Extoll'd the Pope, subscrib'd the Creed of Trent,
Maintain'd the right of popish Princes, and
Stood stoutly for the absolute command.

But, with the times, once more, I chang'd again,
And now I chant it in another strain,
I call the Pope beast in the Revelation,
A popish Prince the grievance of the nation;

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Bishops I call upholders of the whore,
And frankly vote to kick them out of door;
My only cry is now, the cause! the cause!
Our sweet religion, liberties and laws,
And, that I may pass for a perfect saint,
I cry, alas! the broken Covenant.

Let others boast of antiquate tradition,
I'm for religion of the last edition;
I ne'er examine if it be the best,
But if it may advance my interest,
I make no scruple on't; let others stray
In the strait passage of the thorny way,
I will not on my liberty incroach,
For I'm resolv'd to go to Heav'n in coach:
He is a fool who cannot temporize;
Friend, from my heart, I wish you may be wise.
May he be worried on a dish of broath,
Who has not conscience to digest an oath.
I've sworn already, God be prais'd! the Test,
The new Assurance also, and the rest
Of these sweet Oaths, of which our land hath plenty,
And ere' I lose my place I'll yet swear twenty.
I'll stretch my conscience to receive all Oaths,
And change religion as I do my cloaths.
In fine, before I forfeit my estate,
I'll swear Allegiance to great Mahomet.

University of Virginia Library

A LETTER from a Gentleman to his Brother,

concerning State-Oaths, directed thus, To --- the wisest of all his Father's Bairns.