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         Ward, Edward, 1667-1731.
      
       
         
           1698
        
      
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             Ecclesia & Factio a dialogue between Bow-Steeple Dragon and the Exchange Grasshopper.
             Ward, Edward, 1667-1731.
          
           16 p.
           
             [s.n.],
             London :
             1698.
          
           
             Reproduction of original in Huntington Library.
             A satire, in verse.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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         eng
      
       
         
           Religion and politics -- Anecdotes.
        
      
    
     
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           Ecclesia
           &
           Factio
           .
           A
           DIALOGUE
           BETWEEN
           Bow-Steeple
           Dragon
           ,
           AND
           THE
           Exchange
           Grashopper
           .
        
         
           LONDON
           ,
           Printed
           in
           the
           Year
           ,
           1698.
           
        
      
    
     
       
         
         
         
           ECCLESIA
           &
           FACTIO
           .
        
         
           A
           DIALOGUE
           ,
           &c.
           
        
         
           
             Dragon
             .
          
           
             
               TELL
               me
               Proud
               Insect
               ,
               since
               thou
               can'st
               not
               Fly
               ,
            
             
               By
               what
               assistance
               thou
               art
               Hopp'd
               so
               high
               :
            
             
               The
               busie
               swarms
               of
               Gnats
               and
               Wasps
               around
               ,
            
             
               With
               Hum
               ,
               and
               Buz
               ,
               thy
               Revelations
               sound
               ,
            
             
               And
               cry
               in
               thee
               (
               alone
               )
               their
               happiness
               is
               found
               .
            
          
           
             
               Me
               they
               Despise
               ,
               and
               thee
               they
               Praise
               aloud
               ,
            
             
               Admire
               thee
               ,
               and
               Adore
               thee
               as
               a
               God
               :
            
             
               Misled
               by
               false
               Enthusiastick
               Light
               ,
            
             
               They
               've
               rais'd
               thee
               now
               to
               a
               Destructive
               hight
               ,
            
             
               Who
               restless
               strive'st
               ,
               by
               thy
               accustom'd
               ways
               ,
            
             
               To
               stain
               those
               Glories
               ,
               which
               thou
               ne'er
               cou'dst
               raise
               ;
            
          
           
             
               And
               like
               your
               Dam
               (
               the
               Babylonian
               Beast
               )
            
             
               Cry
               down
               those
               Truths
               (
               by
               which
               Mankind
               are
               Blest
               )
            
             
               Which
               Reason
               ,
               well
               as
               Faith
               ,
               makes
               manifest
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             Grashopper
             .
          
           
             
               Thy
               Scaly
               Body
               ,
               and
               Aspiring
               Wings
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               furious
               Tallons
               ,
               and
               thy
               frightful
               Stings
               ,
            
             
               Makes
               thee
               seem
               Monstrous
               to
               our
               milder
               Flock
               ,
            
             
               Who
               Dreaded
               once
               ,
               but
               now
               Disdains
               thy
               Yoke
               :
            
          
           
             
               You
               'd
               bind
               our
               Souls
               ,
               b'Omnipotence
               made
               free
               ,
            
             
               And
               Rob
               us
               of
               that
               Heav'n-born
               Libertie
               ,
            
             
               To
               which
               we
               have
               a
               Right
               ,
               as
               clea●
               as
               thee
               .
            
          
           
             
               My
               Sons
               thou
               wou'dst
               unreasonably
               confine
            
             
               To
               Worship
               God
               ,
               within
               no
               Walls
               but
               thine
               ,
            
             
               As
               if
               the
               Prayers
               ,
               from
               other
               Temples
               sent
               ,
            
             
               Of
               sighing
               Souls
               ,
               who
               faithfully
               Repent
               ,
            
             
               Were
               Scorn'd
               ,
               and
               by
               repulsion
               backward
               driven
               ,
            
             
               Vanish'd
               in
               Air
               ,
               and
               reach'd
               no
               Ear
               of
               Heaven
               .
            
          
           
             
               Where
               is
               its
               Goodness
               ?
               What
               avails
               its
               Grace
               ,
            
             
               If
               our
               sincere
               Repentance
               wants
               access
               ,
            
             
               Thro'
               Heav'ns
               respect
               to
               either
               Time
               ,
               or
               Place
               ?
            
          
           
             
               Those
               measures
               but
               our
               own
               Projections
               be
               ,
            
             
               Vnminded
               of
               the
               Great
               Eternitie
               ,
            
             
               Whose
               Love
               Divine
               moves
               round
               the
               Sinful
               Ball
               ,
            
             
               To
               Bless
               each
               wretch
               ,
               who
               on
               his
               Mercies
               call
               ,
            
             
               Without
               regard
               to
               Place
               ,
               no
               matter
               where
               ,
            
             
               If
               the
               Heart
               's
               Contrit
               ,
               and
               the
               Mind
               Sincere
               .
            
             
               Our
               Humble
               Guide
               the
               great
               Example
               yields
               ,
            
             
               Who
               Pray'd
               and
               Preach'd
               in
               Gardens
               ,
               Mounts
               ,
               and
               Fields
               :
            
             
               Temples
               but
               Sacred
               from
               their
               use
               became
               ,
            
             
               Our
               Piety
               makes
               any
               House
               the
               same
               :
            
             
             
               Where
               e'er
               we
               in
               th'
               Almighty's
               Name
               repair
               ,
            
             
               Omnipotence
               hath
               promis'd
               to
               be
               there
               .
            
             
               Besides
               —
            
             
               Our
               Prayers
               (
               by
               which
               all-pitty'ng
               Heav'n
               we
               move
               ,
            
             
               To
               grant
               us
               His
               inestimable
               Love
               ,
            
             
               When
               with
               true
               Zeal
               our
               Pious
               Souls
               are
               warm'd
               )
            
             
               Makes
               the
               Place
               Holy
               ,
               wheresoe'er
               perform'd
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             Dragon
             .
          
           
             
               Thou
               know'st
               I
               'm
               founded
               on
               a
               fateless
               Rock
               ,
            
             
               Freed
               from
               the
               danger
               of
               an
               Envious
               shock
               ,
            
             
               Scripture's
               my
               Bass
               ,
               Immovable
               I
               stand
               ,
            
             
               Guarded
               by
               Lawful
               Pow'r
               ,
               on
               ev'ry
               hand
               .
            
          
           
             
               Establish'd
               by
               a
               National
               Consent
               ,
            
             
               Preach
               Faith
               ,
               and
               Charity
               ,
               do
               ills
               prevent
               ;
            
             
               And
               for
               the
               Truths
               I
               Teach
               ,
               am
               made
               Predominant
               .
            
          
           
             
               Stedfast
               and
               Pure
               ,
               from
               Innovations
               free
               ,
            
             
               Preserv'd
               intire
               from
               Mutabillity
               ;
            
             
               Safe
               from
               your
               Pride
               ,
               and
               Envy
               ,
               Arm'd
               with
               Law
               ,
            
             
               To
               humble
               stiff
               Precisians
               ,
               who
               withdraw
            
          
           
             
               From
               my
               Communion
               ,
               Conscious
               to
               agree
            
             
               With
               Heads
               uncover'd
               ,
               or
               a
               bended
               Knee
               ,
            
             
               And
               think
               a
               Bow
               a
               rank
               Idolitry
               .
            
          
           
             
               Religion
               ,
               like
               a
               Prince
               ,
               tho'
               ne'er
               so
               Pure
               ,
            
             
               By
               Pow'r
               to
               Punish
               ,
               must
               be
               made
               secure
               ,
            
             
               Or
               else
               your
               Saints
               ,
               to
               Reformation
               given
               ,
            
             
               Would
               quickly
               cut
               Ten
               Thousand
               Paths
               to
               Heaven
               .
            
          
           
             
             
               Could
               I
               from
               Factious
               Insolence
               be
               free
               ,
            
             
               And
               live
               unstain'd
               ,
               without
               an
               Enemy
               ,
            
             
               (
               But
               that
               ,
               till
               thou
               art
               crush'd
               ,
               can
               never
               be
               )
            
          
           
             
               Then
               Church
               ,
               and
               State
               might
               happily
               Unite
               ,
            
             
               To
               Mankinds
               Safety
               ,
               and
               to
               Heav'ns
               Delight
               :
            
             
               But
               you
               ,
               by
               Pride
               ,
               are
               swell'd
               to
               such
               a
               Rage
               ,
            
             
               (
               Fed
               by
               the
               Vice
               of
               a
               Corrupted
               Age
               )
            
             
               That
               now
               you
               strike
               ,
               with
               Envy
               ,
               at
               my
               Pow'r
               ,
            
             
               And
               aim'st
               above
               my
               Sacred
               Head
               to
               tow'r
               :
            
             
               But
               all
               in
               vain
               —
            
             
               For
               that
               Blest
               Edifice
               can
               never
               drop
               ,
            
             
               Which
               ,
               when
               assail'd
               ,
               good
               Heav'n
               is
               still
               the
               Prop.
               
            
          
           
             
               You
               urge
               a
               Barn
               ,
               or
               Stable
               ,
               where
               you
               Meet
               ,
            
             
               A
               Field
               ,
               a
               Coffee-House
               ,
               Dancing-School
               ,
               or
               Street
               ,
            
             
               Are
               fit
               for
               Heav'nly
               Worship
               ,
               and
               for
               Prayer
            
             
               Sacred
               ,
               as
               unpoluted
               Temples
               are
               .
            
             
               Rare
               Arrogance
               indeed
               ,
               so
               vilely
               prone
               ,
            
             
               To
               justify
               Irreverence
               to
               a
               God-head
               done
               .
            
             
               A
               Room
               where
               Men
               their
               common
               Lusts
               pursue
               ,
            
             
               Drink
               ,
               Swear
               ,
               Lye
               ,
               Cheat
               ,
               all
               Worldly-business
               do
               ,
            
             
               In
               Christian
               Reason
               ,
               is
               a
               hopeful
               Place
            
             
               To
               beg
               God's
               Presence
               ,
               or
               expect
               His
               Grace
               ;
            
             
               Whilst
               His
               own
               House
               ,
               for
               Holy
               use
               ordain'd
               ,
            
             
               To
               Him
               Erected
               ,
               by
               our
               Sins
               unstain'd
               ,
            
             
               Shall
               be
               Despis'd
               ,
               and
               Unregarded
               stand
               ,
            
             
               A
               useless
               Fabrick
               ,
               in
               an
               Impious
               Land
               :
            
             
               Yet
               do'st
               thou
               grumble
               in
               oppressive
               tones
               ,
            
             
               And
               rail
               at
               me
               for
               Persecutions
               .
            
          
           
             
             
               If
               you
               ,
               thro'
               studdi'd
               Prejudice
               ,
               retire
            
             
               From
               what
               the
               Laws
               of
               God
               ,
               and
               Man
               require
               ,
            
             
               A
               Legal
               Force
               may
               justly
               then
               be
               us'd
               ;
            
             
               Such
               Factious
               Serpents
               may
               in
               time
               be
               bruis'd
               :
            
          
           
             
               My
               Pow'r's
               from
               God
               ,
               and
               in
               His
               Word
               declard
               ,
            
             
               To
               those
               who
               to
               my
               Laws
               bear
               no
               regard
               ,
            
             
               Heav'ns
               Punishments
               are
               Just
               ,
               as
               to
               the
               Good
               Reward
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               Scriptures
               whatsoe'er
               I
               Teach
               contain
               ,
            
             
               What
               's
               Easie
               I
               Recite
               ,
               what
               's
               Hard
               Explain
               :
            
             
               Virtue
               commend
               to
               Practice
               ,
               Sin
               reprove
               ,
            
             
               Excite
               to
               Faith
               ,
               Hope
               ,
               Charity
               ,
               and
               Love
               :
            
             
               Obedience
               ,
               Loyalty
               ,
               Repentance
               ,
               Prayer
               ,
            
             
               The
               use
               of
               what
               we
               Spend
               ,
               or
               what
               we
               Spare
               .
            
             
               Truth
               I
               advance
               ,
               and
               what
               is
               False
               suppress
               ,
            
             
               You
               can
               no
               more
               than
               these
               ,
               I
               do
               no
               less
               .
            
             
               Then
               tell
               me
               what
               strange
               Feavour
               in
               the
               Head
               ,
            
             
               At
               first
               those
               Superstitious
               Frenzys
               bred
               ?
            
             
               From
               whence
               you
               raise
               that
               causeless
               discontent
               ,
            
             
               Which
               makes
               you
               from
               my
               Temples
               thus
               Dissent
               ?
            
          
        
         
           
             Grashopper
             .
          
           
             
               Superfluous
               Rites
               there
               are
               ,
               which
               you
               maintain
               ,
            
             
               And
               hold
               as
               Decencies
               ,
               which
               I
               think
               Vain
               .
            
             
               Look
               back
               upon
               your
               boasted
               Pedigree
               ,
            
             
               One
               part
               deriv'd
               of
               Romes
               Idolatry
               ,
            
             
               From
               whose
               fantastic
               Customs
               you
               have
               drawn
               ,
            
             
               Spuare
               Caps
               ,
               low
               Bows
               ,
               your
               Surpliss
               ,
               and
               your
               Lawn
               .
            
             
             
               Proud
               Lazy
               Prelates
               ,
               with
               Pluralities
               ,
            
             
               Who
               speak
               but
               by
               their
               hair-brain'd
               Deputies
               ,
            
             
               Whose
               Iunior
               Years
               no
               Truths
               obscure
               can
               reach
               ;
            
             
               And
               seldom
               are
               so
               Wise
               ,
               as
               those
               they
               Teach
               .
            
             
               Your
               Mass-like
               Service
               ,
               with
               your
               noisie
               Toots
               ,
            
             
               Of
               hum
               drum
               Organs
               ,
               Fiddle
               Faddles
               and
               Flutes
               ,
            
             
               Your
               high-flown
               Doctrins
               to
               advance
               a
               State
               ,
            
             
               And
               Please
               it
               ,
               till
               Vnlawfully
               made
               Great
               ,
            
             
               Then
               turn
               your
               Holy
               Flat'ries
               to
               its
               Fate
               .
            
             
               These
               I
               dislike
               ,
               from
               these
               (
               in
               chief
               )
               Dissent
               ,
            
             
               As
               quite
               repugnant
               to
               the
               Lords
               intent
               .
            
             
               These
               are
               the
               sumptious
               Trappings
               of
               the
               Whoar
               ,
            
             
               The
               Marks
               and
               Patches
               which
               she
               always
               wore
               .
            
          
           
             
               These
               are
               her
               studdi'd
               ,
               and
               prevailing
               Charms
               ,
            
             
               Which
               ,
               but
               the
               looser
               part
               of
               Fancy
               warms
               ,
            
             
               And
               draws
               unwary
               Youth
               to
               her
               Adult'rous
               Arms.
               
            
          
        
         
           
             Dragon
             .
          
           
             
               External
               Order
               first
               informs
               our
               Sence
               ,
            
             
               And
               raises
               in
               us
               a
               due
               Reverence
               ,
            
          
           
             
               Either
               towards
               Place
               ,
               or
               Person
               ,
               where
               we
               see
            
             
               Concurrent
               parts
               ,
               in
               Noble
               Form
               ,
               agree
               ,
            
             
               And
               tend
               to
               a
               peculiar
               Harmonie
               .
            
          
           
             
               Or
               why
               did
               the
               Creator
               shape
               the
               World
            
             
               From
               a
               dark
               Mass
               ,
               together
               rudely
               hurl'd
               ?
            
             
               But
               that
               ,
               in
               ev'ry
               part
               ,
               Mankind
               should
               see
               ,
            
             
               The
               strokes
               of
               an
               Allpow'rful
               Deity
               .
            
             
               From
               whence
               the
               light
               of
               Faith
               does
               first
               arise
               ,
            
             
               And
               makes
               our
               Reason
               subject
               to
               our
               Eyes
               ,
            
             
             
               For
               ev'ry
               wond'rous
               work
               of
               Heav'n
               we
               see
               ,
            
             
               Gives
               fresh
               Assurance
               of
               Eternitie
               ;
            
          
           
             
               And
               by
               its
               Graseful
               Order
               strikes
               an
               Awe
               ,
            
             
               Humbles
               our
               Souls
               ,
               and
               does
               Obedience
               draw
               ,
            
             
               By
               Natural
               means
               ,
               to
               Heav'n
               ,
               and
               Natures
               Law
               :
            
          
           
             
               Therefore
               ,
               such
               decent
               Rites
               do
               I
               dispense
               ,
            
             
               As
               best
               shall
               Humble
               ,
               and
               Affect
               the
               Sense
               ;
            
             
               And
               in
               my
               Sons
               beget
               a
               Graceful
               Reverence
               .
            
          
           
             
               How
               Insolent
               it
               looks
               ?
               How
               Evil
               bred
               ,
            
             
               T'
               approach
               God's
               Presence
               with
               a
               Cover'd
               Head
               ?
            
             
               Yet
               to
               a
               Great-man
               Couch
               ,
               with
               Hat
               in
               Hand
               ,
            
             
               And
               Bare
               ,
               before
               the
               Wealthy
               Idol
               ,
               stand
               .
            
             
               Or
               at
               Devotion
               so
               neglectful
               be
               ,
            
             
               As
               quite
               abandon
               all
               Humilitie
               ;
            
             
               And
               rather
               than
               to
               Bended-knees
               submit
               ,
            
             
               In
               disrespectful
               Postures
               ,
               Lolling
               sit
               .
            
          
           
             
               Next
               ,
               with
               Church-Government
               you
               disagree
               ,
            
             
               And
               causlesly
               condemn
               our
               Hierarchie
               :
            
             
               Rail
               at
               my
               Bishops
               ,
               angry
               at
               their
               State
               ,
            
             
               And
               Envy
               them
               ,
               whose
               Merit
               made
               them
               Great
               ;
            
             
               The
               Learn'd
               ,
               and
               Pious
               Characters
               they
               wear
               ,
            
             
               Hath
               rais'd
               them
               to
               the
               Dignities
               they
               bear
               .
            
             
               Unstain'd
               their
               Lives
               ,
               they
               are
               as
               Guardians
               chose
               ,
            
             
               To
               save
               the
               Church
               from
               Errour
               ,
               and
               from
               Foes
               :
            
             
               Without
               whose
               Conduct
               ,
               and
               Authoritie
               ,
            
             
               Religions
               Pristine
               state
               can
               never
               be
            
             
               Kept
               from
               Erroneous
               Innovations
               free
               ,
            
             
             
               But
               stand
               expos'd
               to
               every
               abuse
               ,
            
             
               That
               each
               Fanatick
               whimsie
               shall
               produce
               .
            
             
               Then
               sure
               such
               Men
               ,
               who
               by
               a
               Painful
               Life
               ,
            
             
               (
               Thro'
               Grace
               )
               to
               Knowledge
               more
               sublim'd
               arive
               ;
            
             
               And
               ,
               with
               the
               piercing
               Eyes
               of
               Reason
               ,
               see
            
             
               Thro'
               all
               the
               Mist'ries
               of
               Divinitie
               ,
            
             
               Justly
               deserve
               a
               Spiritual
               advance
               ,
            
             
               Above
               an
               unlearn'd
               ,
               or
               a
               half-learn'd
               Dunce
               ;
            
             
               Whose
               rowling
               Eyes
               ,
               feign'd
               Looks
               ,
               and
               yawning
               Jaws
               ,
            
             
               Can
               nothing
               utter
               ,
               but
               with
               Hums
               ,
               and
               Haughs
               ;
            
             
               Inspir'd
               with
               Ignorance
               ,
               then
               roars
               aloud
            
             
               Audacious
               Nonsense
               ,
               to
               a
               Brainless
               Croud
               :
            
             
               T
               is
               these
               ,
               who
               from
               their
               Cradle
               are
               misled
               ,
            
             
               And
               backward
               taught
               ,
               to
               Factious
               Pulpits
               bred
               ,
            
             
               Who
               ,
               with
               impetuous
               vi'lence
               ,
               headlong
               run
               ,
            
             
               Pursuing
               Ills
               ,
               their
               Rebel
               Si'res
               begun
               .
            
             
               Thus
               in
               their
               Fathers
               faults
               they
               persevere
               ,
            
             
               And
               ,
               by
               Instinct
               of
               Nature
               ,
               envious
               Dunces
               are
               :
            
             
               These
               ,
               thro'
               their
               barren
               Ignorance
               ,
               exclaime
            
             
               Against
               all
               Order
               ,
               and
               the
               Church
               defame
               .
            
             
               Pelting
               with
               Factious
               ,
               and
               Calumnious
               Lyes
               ,
            
             
               That
               Sacred
               Pow'r
               ,
               to
               which
               they
               cannot
               rise
               :
            
             
               Spurning
               at
               all
               Ecclesiastick
               Pomp
               ,
            
             
               True
               Zealous
               Sons
               of
               the
               detested
               Rump
               ,
            
             
               Waiting
               the
               lucky
               Minute
               to
               be
               turn'd
               up
               Trump
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             Grashopper
             .
          
           
             
               These
               bald
               aspersions
               ,
               from
               afar
               you
               fetch
               ,
            
             
               Serve
               ,
               but
               as
               Bullets
               ,
               to
               enlarge
               the
               Breach
               .
            
             
             
               Why
               so
               Disturb'd
               ,
               so
               Scornful
               ,
               and
               so
               High
               ?
            
             
               You
               're
               but
               a
               Weather-cock
               as
               well
               as
               I.
            
             
               Boast
               of
               fix'd
               Fundamentals
               ,
               yet
               I
               find
               ,
            
             
               For
               Interest
               ,
               you
               can
               Turn
               with
               ev'ry
               Wind.
            
             
               Where
               's
               Right
               Divine
               ,
               your
               Passive
               ,
               and
               your
               Non
               ,
            
             
               The
               Bubble's
               once
               blown
               up
               ,
               now
               ,
               Poh
               ,
               they
               're
               gon
               .
            
             
               Where
               is
               your
               Loyalty
               ,
               so
               subt'ly
               shown
               ,
            
             
               Sometimes
               to
               th'
               Prince
               ,
               and
               sometimes
               to
               the
               Throne
               ,
            
             
               Sometimes
               to
               both
               ,
               sometimes
               to
               ne'er
               a
               one
               :
            
             
               Thus
               is
               it
               Logically
               plac'd
               behind
            
             
               So
               many
               School-boys
               Querks
               ,
               't
               is
               hard
               to
               find
               .
            
          
           
             
               When
               the
               great
               Change
               (
               by
               Heav'ns
               permition
               )
               try'd
            
             
               Your
               Churches
               Doctrine
               ,
               and
               her
               Clergies
               Pride
               ,
            
             
               Some
               Conscientious
               Fools
               ,
               't
               is
               true
               ,
               tur●'d
               out
               ,
            
             
               But
               all
               the
               Wiser
               Sheepheards
               fac'd
               about
               ;
            
             
               And
               ,
               like
               good
               Men
               ,
               could
               blacken
               and
               upbraid
            
             
               That
               sinking
               Pow'r
               ,
               for
               which
               before
               they
               Pray'd
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             Dragon
             .
          
           
             
               Scandal
               (
               as
               you
               are
               wont
               )
               I
               know
               you
               chuse
               ,
            
             
               As
               the
               best
               Weapon
               ,
               of
               Offence
               ,
               to
               use
               ,
            
             
               Whether
               ,
               on
               search
               ,
               it
               True
               ,
               or
               False
               be
               found
               ,
            
             
               No
               matter
               which
               ,
               if
               you
               can
               make
               it
               wound
               .
            
             
               But
               know
               my
               Armour
               's
               temper'd
               against
               Fate
               ;
            
             
               And
               much
               to
               hard
               ,
               for
               you
               to
               penetrate
               :
            
             
               The
               Iron
               Walls
               ,
               my
               treasur'd
               Truths
               defend
               ,
            
             
               Reverb'rate
               all
               the
               poisonous
               balls
               you
               send
               .
            
          
           
             
               You
               charge
               me
               with
               the
               want
               of
               Loyalty
               ,
            
             
               That
               am
               the
               chief
               support
               of
               Monarchy
               :
            
             
             
               By
               my
               High
               Priest
               the
               Holy
               Oyl
               's
               apply'd
               ,
            
             
               By
               me
               Kings
               Reign
               ,
               are
               Crown'd
               ,
               and
               Sanctifi'd
               ;
            
             
               I
               am
               on
               Earth
               their
               Safety
               ,
               and
               to
               Heav'n
               their
               Guide
               .
            
          
           
             
               By
               me
               the
               Factious
               Falshoods
               are
               supprest
               ,
            
             
               Scatter'd
               by
               restless
               Rebels
               ,
               to
               molest
            
             
               The
               happy
               quiet
               of
               a
               Peaceful
               Reign
               ,
            
             
               Which
               Traitors
               Envy
               ,
               and
               blind
               Fools
               Disdain
               .
            
             
               Duty
               to
               Kings
               ,
               I
               to
               the
               Public
               teach
               ,
            
             
               To
               Loyalty
               Excite
               ,
               Perswade
               ,
               Beseech
               ,
            
             
               That
               all
               things
               to
               the
               Throne
               be
               easie
               made
               ,
            
             
               And
               him
               thereon
               be
               Rev'renc'd
               ,
               and
               Obey'd
               .
            
             
               What
               are
               all
               these
               ,
               but
               Marks
               of
               Loyaltie
               ,
            
             
               Religious
               Graces
               ,
               manifest
               in
               me
               ,
            
             
               Virtues
               ,
               I
               find
               ,
               too
               bright
               for
               thy
               dull
               Eyes
               to
               see
               .
            
          
           
             
               But
               pray
               your
               Reasons
               to
               the
               World
               impart
               ,
            
             
               Why
               now
               you
               from
               your
               old
               Opinion
               start
               .
            
             
               In
               happy
               days
               ,
               when
               Charles
               the
               Scepter
               swai'd
               ,
            
             
               When
               base
               Designs
               ,
               by
               you
               know
               who
               ,
               were
               lai'd
               ,
            
             
               Then
               all
               your
               Awkward
               ,
               Canting
               Brood
               profest
            
             
               'T
               was
               Damnable
               ,
               the
               Bread
               of
               Life
               to
               Tast
               ,
            
             
               Within
               my
               Sacred
               Temple-Walls
               ,
               but
               now
               ,
            
             
               What
               then
               you
               held
               so
               Dang'rous
               ,
               you
               Allow
               .
            
             
               If
               Once
               't
               was
               an
               Offence
               so
               great
               ,
               we
               know
            
             
               (
               As
               you
               maintain'd
               ,
               full
               Twenty
               Years
               ago
               )
            
             
               'T
               is
               Now
               the
               same
               ,
               and
               Ever
               will
               be
               so
               .
            
             
               Why
               do
               the
               Grandees
               of
               your
               Leering
               Tribe
               ,
            
             
               (
               Who
               from
               rank
               Dugs
               their
               Prejudice
               imbibe
               )
            
             
             
               So
               curb
               their
               Malice
               ,
               as
               Conform
               of
               late
               ,
            
             
               And
               with
               my
               Flocks
               they
               Envy
               ,
               Congregate
               .
            
             
               Oft
               on
               a
               Sabaths
               Morning
               have
               I
               seen
            
             
               Rich
               Awful
               Zealots
               ,
               of
               a
               bulkey
               Mein
               ,
            
             
               Cheat
               Heaven
               ,
               and
               dissemble
               with
               the
               State
               ,
            
             
               To
               be
               by
               Flatt'ry
               ,
               and
               Deceit
               made
               Great
               ;
            
             
               Visit
               my
               Temples
               ,
               seem
               devout
               as
               Saints
               ;
            
             
               And
               for
               their
               Int'rest
               ,
               turn
               base
               Sicophants
               :
            
             
               Thus
               with
               my
               Worship
               ,
               thro'
               design
               ,
               agree
               ,
            
             
               And
               only
               Mimmick
               ,
               what
               they
               hate
               to
               be
               ,
            
             
               To
               climb
               ,
               unfairly
               ,
               to
               Authoritie
               .
            
             
               Then
               ,
               by
               their
               own
               Corrupted
               Whimsies
               led
               ,
            
             
               Where
               the
               rape
               meet
               ,
               and
               common
               Ills
               are
               bred
               ;
            
             
               There
               hear
               the
               Church
               ,
               from
               whence
               they
               came
               ,
               Lampoon'd
               ,
            
             
               And
               True
               Religion
               ,
               by
               an
               Ape
               Buffoon'd
               ;
            
             
               Who
               o'er
               his
               Cushion
               ,
               full
               of
               Yawn
               ,
               and
               Hum
               ,
            
             
               Stands
               Gaping
               like
               the
               Bear
               that
               beats
               the
               Drum.
            
             
               Thus
               is
               the
               Afternoon
               at
               Meeting
               spent
               ,
            
             
               The
               Morning
               in
               the
               Church
               ,
               at
               Sacrament
               :
            
             
               Rare
               Pious
               Christians
               ,
               full
               of
               Faith
               ,
               and
               Grace
               ,
            
             
               To
               thus
               with
               Heav'n
               ,
               dissemble
               for
               a
               Place
               ;
            
             
               And
               pawn
               their
               Souls
               to
               purchase
               Sword
               or
               Mase
               .
            
             
               If
               I
               am
               Right
               ,
               and
               from
               Mistakes
               most
               free
               ,
            
             
               Why
               do
               they
               not
               Conform
               intire
               to
               me
               ?
            
             
               If
               your
               dark
               System
               ,
               they
               believe
               most
               True
               ,
            
             
               Why
               not
               alone
               Communicate
               with
               you
               ?
            
             
               Those
               who
               for
               Int'rest
               ,
               carry
               fair
               with
               both
               ,
            
             
               Are
               Just
               to
               neither
               ,
               by
               their
               Faith
               or
               Troth
               :
            
             
               But
               plung'd
               between
               two
               Crimes
               ,
               to
               Greatness
               bent
               ,
            
             
               Erre
               with
               the
               Wrong
               ,
               and
               from
               the
               Right
               Dissent
               .
            
          
        
         
           
           
             Grashopper
             .
          
           
             If
             you
             make
             Laws
             t'
             eclips
             my
             purer
             light
             ,
          
           
             And
             rob
             my
             Sons
             ,
             of
             what
             's
             their
             native
             Right
             ,
          
           
             The
             fault
             's
             not
             theirs
             ,
             't
             is
             you
             incur
             the
             blame
             ,
          
           
             The
             Cunning's
             on
             their
             side
             ,
             on
             yours
             the
             Shame
             .
          
           
             Why
             not
             by
             Birth
             ,
             and
             Christia●
             Knowledge
             free
          
           
             To
             Riches
             ,
             Honour
             ,
             and
             Authoritie
             ?
          
           
             Why
             must
             these
             Worldly
             Comforts
             rest
             in
             you
             ;
          
           
             Or
             your
             Sons
             count
             all
             Pow'r
             and
             Place
             their
             due
             ?
          
           
             Why
             may
             not
             mine
             as
             well
             assist
             the
             State
             ,
          
           
             And
             in
             as
             great
             attempts
             ,
             prove
             fortunate
             ?
          
           
             If
             you
             such
             Laws
             procure
             ,
             such
             Pow'r
             possess
             ,
          
           
             As
             prove
             a
             hind'rance
             to
             our
             happiness
             ,
          
           
             How
             can
             you
             iustly
             blame
             us
             ,
             to
             evade
             ,
          
           
             And
             leap
             o'er
             all
             the
             stumbling-blocks
             you
             've
             laid
             ?
          
           
             If
             you
             such
             bars
             to
             our
             Preferments
             make
             ,
          
           
             As
             Oaths
             ,
             and
             Sacraments
             ,
             for
             your
             own
             Int'rest
             sake
             ,
          
           
             It
             is
             no
             crime
             in
             us
             ,
             the
             same
             to
             Break
             or
             Take
             .
          
           
             If
             you
             attempt
             ,
             thro'
             Pride
             ,
             to
             keep
             us
             low
             ,
          
           
             And
             we
             ,
             thro'
             Cunning
             ,
             your
             designs
             o'erthrow
             ,
          
           
             Call
             it
             not
             Cozening
             Heaven
             ,
             but
             Out-witting
             you
             .
          
        
         
           
             Dragon
             .
          
           
             No
             Laws
             can
             such
             loose
             Principles
             restrain
             ,
          
           
             No
             force
             can
             bind
             you
             ,
             but
             a
             Golden
             Chain
             .
          
           
             Int'rest
             I
             find
             ,
             is
             the
             prevailing
             tye
             ,
          
           
             Makes
             you
             Approve
             ,
             Conform
             ,
             Dissent
             ,
             Deny
             ,
          
           
             Oppose
             the
             Right
             ,
             or
             the
             Wrong
             Justisie
             .
          
           
             Int'rest
             ,
             from
             me
             first
             made
             you
             Seperate
             ,
          
           
             And
             become
             Rival
             to
             the
             Church
             ,
             and
             State.
          
           
           
             Int'rest
             dispos'd
             you
             to
             Intestine
             Jars
             ,
          
           
             Improv'd
             to
             Bloody
             ,
             and
             Domestick
             Wars
             ;
          
           
             Wherein
             being
             flatter'd
             with
             unjust
             success
             ,
          
           
             Trampl'd
             on
             Merit
             ,
             spit
             in
             Virtues
             Face
             ,
          
           
             Riffled
             the
             Throne
             ,
             and
             stain'd
             the
             Judgment-seat
             ,
          
           
             With
             Crimes
             too
             black
             ,
             and
             dreadful
             to
             repeat
             ;
          
           
             As
             if
             to
             you
             ,
             Omnipotence
             had
             given
             ,
          
           
             A
             Sanguine
             ,
             not
             a
             Milky-way
             to
             Heaven
             .
          
           
             Still
             are
             your
             Thoughts
             by
             wild
             Ambition
             tost
             ,
          
           
             Aiming
             to
             gain
             that
             Pow'r
             ,
             you
             justly
             lost
             :
          
           
             At
             all
             Ellections
             ,
             busie
             are
             your
             Brood
             ,
          
           
             Heaving
             and
             shoving
             'gainst
             the
             Public
             Good.
          
           
             On
             all
             Promotions
             ,
             Zealously
             intent
             ,
          
           
             Sqneese
             ,
             Bawl
             ,
             and
             Jostle
             ,
             till
             their
             Breaths
             are
             spent
             ;
          
           
             Kick
             ,
             Cuff
             ,
             and
             Scandal
             (
             heedless
             of
             the
             Laws
             )
          
           
             Tongues
             ,
             Feet
             ,
             and
             Arms
             ,
             all
             working
             for
             the
             Caufe
             ;
          
           
             To
             raise
             some
             Meager
             Darling
             of
             their
             own
             ,
          
           
             Faction
             in
             whose
             penurious
             looks
             is
             shown
             :
          
           
             Rich
             by
             meer
             Chance
             ,
             or
             Fraud
             ,
             not
             Great
             by
             merit
             grown
             .
          
           
             Who
             can
             Lye
             ,
             Cant
             ,
             Dissemble
             ,
             or
             Forswear
             ,
          
           
             Declaim
             against
             ,
             or
             hear
             the
             Common-Prayer
             ;
          
           
             Thro'
             all
             Opinions
             Halt
             ,
             to
             Lamely
             reach
             the
             Chair
             .
          
           
             Who
             can
             his
             Conscience
             ,
             to
             his
             Interest
             mould
             ,
          
           
             Run
             with
             the
             Court
             ,
             or
             with
             the
             City
             hold
             .
          
           
             And
             without
             shame
             ,
             can
             true
             Reflections
             face
             ,
          
           
             Or
             bear
             all
             scandal
             ,
             with
             a
             comely
             Grace
             .
          
           
             And
             will
             his
             Pow'r
             beyond
             just
             bounds
             extend
             ,
          
           
             To
             injure
             Foes
             ,
             or
             to
             advance
             a
             Friend
             ;
          
           
             Or
             any
             thing
             will
             do
             ;
             to
             serve
             a
             Factious
             End.
          
           
           
             These
             are
             the
             worthy
             Dolts
             ,
             your
             Sons
             advance
             ,
          
           
             By
             their
             false
             Poles
             ,
             and
             double
             Diligence
             .
          
           
             These
             are
             the
             Men
             of
             merit
             ,
             they
             provide
             ,
          
           
             To
             Row
             ,
             and
             Toe
             ,
             against
             the
             Wind
             and
             Tide
             ;
          
           
             Who
             in
             Tempestious
             Discords
             ,
             they
             create
             ,
          
           
             Sail
             quite
             repugnant
             to
             the
             Church
             and
             State
             :
          
           
             Yet
             to
             such
             outward
             Godliness
             seem
             bent
             ,
          
           
             To
             Church
             they
             'll
             come
             ,
             tho'
             in
             their
             Hearts
             Dissent
             :
          
           
             But
             for
             no
             Faith
             ,
             will
             either
             Hang
             ,
             or
             Starve
             ,
          
           
             Both
             God
             and
             Mammon
             ,
             for
             advancement
             serve
             ;
          
           
             Thus
             seasonably
             comply
             ,
             or
             in
             fit
             times
             can
             swerve
             .
          
           
             If
             such
             unsteddy
             Rovers
             bear
             Command
             ,
          
           
             Whilst
             Men
             of
             Worth
             ,
             shall
             unregarded
             stand
             ,
          
           
             By
             Law
             ,
             and
             Nature
             ,
             Qualifi'd
             for
             Trust
             ,
          
           
             To
             something
             Fix'd
             ,
             and
             known
             in
             all
             things
             Just.
          
           
             I●
             Men
             like
             these
             ,
             shall
             be
             by
             Fraud
             put
             by
             ,
          
           
             And
             yield
             their
             Rights
             to
             the
             Pedantick
             Fry
             ;
          
           
             England
             must
             soon
             from
             all
             her
             Greatness
             fall
             ,
          
           
             And
             mourn
             her
             Ancient
             Glories
             Funeral
             .
          
           
             Which
             Heaven
             prevent
             —
          
           
             And
             (
             that
             she
             may
             once
             more
             her
             Grandure
             boast
             )
          
           
             Retrieve
             her
             Virtues
             ,
             now
             so
             nearly
             lost
             ;
          
           
             And
             from
             all
             Factious
             Quarrels
             ,
             and
             Despights
             ,
          
           
             Preserve
             the
             
               King
               ,
               Church
               ,
               Nation
            
             ,
             and
             our
             Rights
             :
          
           
             That
             in
             One
             Faith
             ,
             we
             may
             United
             be
             ,
          
           
             And
             accord
             sweetly
             ,
             in
             just
             Harmonie
             .
          
        
         
           FINIS
           .
        
         
      
    
     
  

