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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30159 ***
+
+[Transcriber's Note: This satire in verse by Daniel Defoe (c.
+1659-1731) was first published in 1701 under the title, _The True-Born
+Englishman. A Satyr_, and went through numerous editions in Defoe's
+lifetime. This e-book was prepared from _The Novels and Miscellaneous
+Works of Daniel De Foe_, Volume 5 (London: Henry G. Bohn, 1855), in
+which the spelling, punctuation, and capitalization have apparently
+been modernized. Obvious printer errors have been corrected. A table
+of contents has been added for the reader's convenience.]
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+TRUE-BORN ENGLISHMAN:
+
+A
+
+SATIRE.
+
+
+Statuimus pacem, et securitatem et concordiam judicum et justiciam
+inter Anglos et Normannos, Francos et Britanes, Walliæ, et Cornubiæ,
+Pictos et Scotos, Albaniæ, similiter inter Francos et insulanos
+provincias et patrias, quæ pertinent ad coronam nostram, et inter
+omnes nobis subjectos firmiter et inviolabiliter observare.
+
+Charta Regis Gullielmi Conquisitoris de Pacis Publica, cap. i.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+AN EXPLANATORY PREFACE.
+
+PREFACE.
+
+THE INTRODUCTION.
+
+THE TRUE-BORN ENGLISHMAN.
+
+PART I.
+
+PART II.
+
+BRITANNIA.
+
+HIS FINE SPEECH, &c.
+
+THE CONCLUSION.
+
+
+
+
+AN
+
+EXPLANATORY PREFACE.
+
+
+It is not that I see any reason to alter my opinion in any thing I
+have writ, which occasions this epistle; but I find it necessary for
+the satisfaction of some persons of honour, as well as wit, to pass a
+short explication upon it; and tell the world what I mean, or rather,
+what I do not mean, in some things wherein I find I am liable to be
+misunderstood.
+
+I confess myself something surpris'd to hear that I am taxed with
+bewraying my own nest, and abusing our nation, by discovering the
+meanness of our original, in order to make the English contemptible
+abroad and at home; in which, I think, they are mistaken: for why
+should not our neighbours be as good as we to derive from? And I must
+add, that had we been an unmix'd nation, I am of opinion it had been
+to our disadvantage: for to go no farther, we have three nations about
+us as clear from mixtures of blood as any in the world, and I know not
+which of them I could wish ourselves to be like; I mean the Scots, the
+Welsh, and the Irish; and if I were to write a reverse to the Satire,
+I would examine all the nations of Europe, and prove, that those
+nations which are most mix'd, are the best, and have least of
+barbarism and brutality among them; and abundance of reasons might be
+given for it, too long to bring into a Preface.
+
+But I give this hint, to let the world know, that I am far from
+thinking, 'tis a Satire upon the English nation, to tell them, they
+are derived from all the nations under heaven; that is, from several
+nations. Nor is it meant to undervalue the original of the English,
+for we see no reason to like them worse, being the relicts of Romans,
+Danes, Saxons and Normans, than we should have done if they had
+remain'd Britons, that is, than if they had been all Welshmen.
+
+But the intent of the Satire is pointed at the vanity of those who
+talk of their antiquity, and value themselves upon their pedigree,
+their ancient families, and being true-born; whereas 'tis impossible
+we should be true-born: and if we could, should have lost by the
+bargain.
+
+These sort of people, who call themselves true-born, and tell long
+stories of their families, and like a nobleman of Venice, think a
+foreigner ought not to walk on the same side of the street with them,
+are own'd to be meant in this Satire. What they would infer from their
+long original, I know not, nor is it easy to make out whether they are
+the better or the worse for their ancestors: our English nation may
+value themselves for their wit, wealth and courage, and I believe few
+nations will dispute it with them; but for long originals, and ancient
+true-born families of English, I would advise them to wave the
+discourse. A true Englishman is one that deserves a character, and I
+have nowhere lessened him, that I know of; but as for a true-born
+Englishman, I confess I do not understand him.
+
+From hence I only infer, that an Englishman, of all men, ought not to
+despise foreigners as such, and I think the inference is just, since
+what they are to-day, we were yesterday, and to-morrow they will be
+like us. If foreigners misbehave in their several stations and
+employments, I have nothing to do with that; the laws are open to
+punish them equally with natives, and let them have no favour.
+
+But when I see the town full of lampoons and invectives against
+Dutchmen, only because they are foreigners, and the king reproached
+and insulted by insolent pedants, and ballad-making poets, for
+employing foreigners, and for being a foreigner himself, I confess
+myself moved by it to remind our nation of their own original, thereby
+to let them see what a banter is put upon ourselves in it; since
+speaking of Englishmen _ab origine_, we are really all foreigners
+ourselves.
+
+I could go on to prove it is also impolitic in us to discourage
+foreigners; since it is easy to make it appear that the multitudes of
+foreign nations who have taken sanctuary here, have been the greatest
+additions to the wealth and strength of the nation; the essential
+whereof is the number of its inhabitants; nor would this nation ever
+have arrived to the degree of wealth and glory it now boasts of, if
+the addition of foreign nations, both as to manufactures and arms,
+had not been helpful to it. This is so plain, that he who is ignorant
+of it, is too dull to be talked with.
+
+The Satire therefore I must allow to be just, till I am otherwise
+convinced; because nothing can be more ridiculous than to hear our
+people boast of that antiquity, which if it had been true, would have
+left us in so much worse a condition than we are in now: whereas we
+ought rather to boast among our neighbours, that we are part of
+themselves, of the same original as they, but bettered by our climate,
+and like our language and manufactures, derived from them, and
+improved by us to a perfection greater than they can pretend to.
+
+This we might have valued ourselves upon without vanity; but to disown
+our descent from them, talk big of our ancient families, and long
+originals, and stand at a distance from foreigners, like the
+enthusiast in religion, with a Stand off, I am more holy than thou:
+this is a thing so ridiculous, in a nation derived from foreigners, as
+we are, that I could not but attack them as I have done.
+
+And whereas I am threatened to be called to a public account for this
+freedom; and the publisher of this has been newspapered into gaol
+already for it; tho' I see nothing in it for which the government can
+be displeased; yet if at the same time those people who with an
+unlimited arrogance in print, every day affront the king, prescribe
+the parliament, and lampoon the government, may be either punished or
+restrained, I am content to stand and fall by the public justice of my
+native country, which I am not sensible I have anywhere injured.
+
+Nor would I be misunderstood concerning the clergy; with whom, if I
+have taken any license more than becomes a Satire, I question not but
+those gentlemen, who are men of letters, are also men of so much
+candor, as to allow me a loose at the crimes of the guilty, without
+thinking the whole profession lashed who are innocent. I profess to
+have very mean thoughts of those gentlemen who have deserted their own
+principles, and exposed even their morals as well as loyality; but not
+at all to think it affects any but such as are concerned in the fact.
+
+Nor would I be misrepresented as to the ingratitude of the English to
+the king and his friends; as if I meant the English as a nation, are
+so. The contrary is so apparent, that I would hope it should not be
+suggested of me: and, therefore when I have brought in Britannia
+speaking of the king, I suppose her to be the representative or mouth
+of the nation, as a body. But if I say we are full of such who daily
+affront the king, and abuse his friends; who print scurrilous
+pamphlets, virulent lampoons, and reproachful public banters, against
+both the king's person and his government; I say nothing but what is
+too true; and that the Satire is directed at such, I freely own; and
+cannot say, but I should think it very hard to be censured for this
+Satire, while such remain unquestioned and tacitly approved. That I
+can mean none but such, is plain from these few lines, page 453.
+[Transcriber's Note: This reference is to a page number in the 1855
+reprint edition.]
+
+     Ye heavens regard! Almighty Jove, look down,
+     And view thy injured monarch on the throne.
+     On their ungrateful heads due vengeance take,
+     Who sought his aid, and then his part forsake.
+
+If I have fallen rudely upon our vices, I hope none but the vicious
+will be angry. As for writing for interest, I disown it; I have
+neither place, nor pension, nor prospect; nor seek none, nor will have
+none: if matter of fact justifies the truth of the crimes, the Satire
+is just. As to the poetic liberties, I hope the crime is pardonable; I
+am content to be stoned, provided none will attack me but the
+innocent.
+
+If my countrymen would take the hint, and grow better natured from my
+ill-natured poem as some call it; I would say this of it, that though
+it is far from the best Satire that ever was wrote, it would do the
+most good that ever Satire did.
+
+And yet I am ready to ask pardon of some gentlemen too; who though
+they are Englishmen, have good nature enough to see themselves
+reproved, and can hear it. These are gentlemen in a true sense, that
+can bare to be told of their _faux pas_, and not abuse the reprover.
+To such I must say, this is no Satire; they are exceptions to the
+general rule; and I value my performance from their generous
+approbation, more than I can from any opinion I have of its worth.
+
+The hasty errors of my verse I made my excuse for before; and since
+the time I have been upon it has been but little, and my leisure less,
+I have all along strove rather to make the thoughts explicit, than the
+poem correct. However, I have mended some faults in this edition, and
+the rest must be placed to my account.
+
+As to answers, banters, true English Billingsgate, I expect them till
+nobody will buy, and then the shop will be shut. Had I wrote it for
+the gain of the press, I should have been concerned at its being
+printed again, and again, by pirates, as they call them, and
+paragraph-men; but would they but do it justice, and print it true,
+according to the copy, they are welcome to sell it for a penny, if
+they please.
+
+The pence, indeed, is the end of their works. I will engage if nobody
+will buy, nobody will write: and not a patriot poet of them all, now
+will in defence of his native country, which I have abused, they say,
+print an answer to it, and give it about for God's sake.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+The end of satire is reformation: and the author, though he doubt the
+work of conversion is at a general stop, has put his hand in the
+plough. I expect a storm of ill language from the fury of the town.
+And especially from those whose English talent it is to rail: and,
+without being taken for a conjuror, I may venture to foretel, that I
+shall be cavilled at about my mean style, rough verse, and incorrect
+language, things I indeed might have taken more care in. But the book
+is printed; and though I see some faults, it is too late to mend them.
+And this is all I think needful to say to them.
+
+Possibly somebody may take me for a Dutchman; in which they are
+mistaken: but I am one that would be glad to see Englishmen behave
+themselves better to strangers, and to governors also, that one might
+not be reproached in foreign countries for belonging to a nation that
+wants manners.
+
+I assure you, gentlemen, strangers use us better abroad; and we can
+give no reason but our ill-nature for the contrary here.
+
+Methinks an Englishman who is so proud of being called a good fellow,
+should be civil. And it cannot be denied, but we are, in many cases,
+and particularly to strangers, the most churlish people alive.
+
+As to vices, who can dispute our intemperance, while an honest drunken
+fellow is a character in a man's praise? All our reformations are
+banters, and will be so till our magistrates and gentry reform
+themselves, by way of example; then, and not till then, they may be
+expected to punish others without blushing.
+
+As to our ingratitude, I desire to be understood of that particular
+people, who pretending to be Protestants, have all along endeavoured
+to reduce the liberties and religion of this nation into the hands of
+King James and his Popish powers: together with such who enjoy the
+peace and protection of the present government, and yet abuse and
+affront the king who procured it, and openly profess their uneasiness
+under him: these, by whatsoever names or titles they are dignified or
+distinguished, are the people aimed at; nor do I disown, but that it
+is so much the temper of an Englishman to abuse his benefactor, that I
+could be glad to see it rectified.
+
+They who think I have been guilty of any error, in exposing the crimes
+of my own countrymen to themselves, may, among many honest instances
+of the like nature, find the same thing in Mr. Cowley, in his
+imitation of the second Olympic Ode of Pindar; his words are these:--
+
+     But in this thankless world, the givers
+     Are envied even by the receivers.
+     'Tis now the cheap and frugal fashion,
+     Rather to hide than pay an obligation.
+     Nay, 'tis much worse than so;
+     It now an artifice doth grow,
+     Wrongs and outrages they do,
+     Lest men should think we owe.
+
+
+
+
+THE INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+Speak, Satire, for there's none can tell like thee,
+Whether 'tis folly, pride, or knavery,
+That makes this discontented land appear
+Less happy now in times of peace, than war:
+Why civil feuds disturb the nation more,
+Than all our bloody wars have done before.
+
+  Fools out of favour grudge at knaves in place,
+And men are always honest in disgrace:
+The court preferments make men knaves in course:
+But they which wou'd be in them wou'd be worse.
+'Tis not at foreigners that we repine,
+Wou'd foreigners their perquisites resign:
+The grand contention's plainly to be seen,
+To get some men put out, and some put in.
+For this our Senators make long harangues.
+And florid Ministers whet their polish'd tongues.
+Statesmen are always sick of one disease;
+And a good pension gives them present ease.
+That's the specific makes them all content
+With any King and any government.
+Good patriots at court abuses rail,
+And all the nation's grievances bewail:
+But when the sov'reign balsam's once apply'd,
+The zealot never fails to change his side;
+And when he must the golden key resign,
+The railing spirit comes about again.
+
+  Who shall this bubbl'd nation disabuse,
+While they their own felicities refuse?
+Who at the wars have made such mighty pother,
+And now are falling out with one another:
+With needless fears the jealous nations fill,
+And always have been sav'd against their will:
+Who fifty millions sterling have disburs'd
+To be with peace, and too much plenty, curs'd;
+Who their old monarch eagerly undo,
+And yet uneasily obey the new.
+Search, Satire, search; a deep incision make:
+The poison's strong, the antidote's too weak.
+'Tis pointed truth must manage this dispute,
+And down-right English, Englishmen confute.
+
+  Whet thy just anger at the nation's pride;
+And with keen phrase repel the vicious tide,
+To Englishmen their own beginnings show,
+And ask them, why they slight their neighbours so:
+Go back to elder times, and ages past,
+And nations into long oblivion cast;
+To elder Britain's youthful days retire,
+And there for true-born Englishmen inquire,
+Britannia freely will disown the name,
+And hardly knows herself from whence they came;
+Wonders that they of all men should pretend
+To birth, and blood, and for a name contend.
+Go back to causes where our follies dwell,
+And fetch the dark original from hell:
+Speak, Satire, for there's none like thee can tell.
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+TRUE-BORN ENGLISHMAN.
+
+
+PART I.
+
+Wherever God erects a house of prayer,
+The Devil always builds a chapel there:
+And 'twill be found upon examination,
+The latter has the largest congregation:
+For ever since he first debauch'd the mind,
+He made a perfect conquest of mankind.
+With uniformity of service, he
+Reigns with general aristocracy.
+No non-conforming sects disturb his reign,
+For of his yoke, there's very few complain.
+He knows the genius and the inclination,
+And matches proper sins for ev'ry nation.
+He needs no standing army government;
+He always rules us by our own consent:
+His laws are easy, and his gentle sway
+Makes it exceeding pleasant to obey.
+The list of his vicegerents and commanders,
+Out-does your Cæsars, or your Alexanders.
+They never fail of his infernal aid,
+And he's as certain ne'er to be betray'd.
+Thro' all the world they spread his vast command,
+And death's eternal empire is maintain'd.
+They rule so politicly and so well,
+As if they were Lords Justices of hell;
+Duly divided to debauch mankind,
+And plant infernal dictates in his mind.
+
+  Pride, the first peer, and president of hell,
+To his share, Spain, the largest province fell.
+The subtle Prince thought fittest to bestow
+On these the golden mines of Mexico,
+With all the silver mountains of Peru;
+Wealth which in wise hands would the world undo;
+Because he knew their genius was such,
+Too lazy and too haughty to be rich:
+So proud a people, so above their fate,
+That, if reduced to beg, they'll beg in state:
+Lavish of money, to be counted brave,
+And proudly starve, because they scorn to save;
+Never was nation in the world before,
+So very rich, and yet so very poor.
+
+  Lust chose the torrid zone of Italy,
+Where blood ferments in rapes and sodomy:
+Where swelling veins o'erflow with living streams,
+With heat impregnate from Vesuvian flames;
+Whose flowing sulphur forms infernal lakes,
+And human body of the soil partakes.
+There nature ever burns with hot desires,
+Fann'd with luxuriant air from subterranean fires:
+Here undisturbed, in floods of scalding lust,
+Th' infernal king reigns with infernal gust.
+
+  Drunkenness, the darling favourite of hell,
+Chose Germany to rule; and rules so well,
+No subjects more obsequiously obey,
+None please so well, or are so pleased as they;
+The cunning artist manages so well,
+He lets them bow to heav'n, and drink to hell.
+If but to wine and him they homage pay,
+He cares not to what deity they pray;
+What god they worship most, or in what way.
+Whether by Luther, Calvin, or by Rome,
+They sail for heaven, by wine he steers them home.
+
+  Ungovern'd passion settled first in France,
+Where mankind lives in haste, and thrives by chance;
+A dancing nation, fickle and untrue,
+Have oft undone themselves, and others too;
+Prompt the infernal dictates to obey,
+And in hell's favour none more great than they.
+
+  The pagan world he blindly leads away,
+And personally rules with arbitrary sway:
+The mask thrown off, plain devil, his title stands;
+And what elsewhere he tempts, he there commands;
+There, with full gust, th' ambition of his mind,
+Governs, as he of old in heaven design'd:
+Worshipp'd as God, his Paynim altars smoke,
+Imbrued with blood of those that him invoke.
+
+  The rest by deputies he rules so well,
+And plants the distant colonies of hell;
+By them his secret power he firm maintains,
+And binds the world in his infernal chains.
+
+  By zeal the Irish, and the Russ by folly,
+Fury the Dane, the Swede by melancholy;
+By stupid ignorance, the Muscovite;
+The Chinese, by a child of hell, call'd wit;
+Wealth makes the Persian too effeminate;
+And poverty the Tartar desperate:
+The Turks and Moors, by Mah'met he subdues;
+And God has given him leave to rule the Jews:
+Rage rules the Portuguese, and fraud the Scotch;
+Revenge the Pole, and avarice the Dutch.
+
+  Satire, be kind, and draw a silent veil,
+Thy native England's vices to conceal:
+Or, if that task's impossible to do,
+At least be just, and show her virtues too;
+Too great the first, alas! the last too few.
+
+  England, unknown, as yet unpeopled lay,--
+Happy, had she remain'd so to this day,
+And still to ev'ry nation been a prey.
+Her open harbours, and her fertile plains,
+The merchant's glory these, and those the swain's,
+To ev'ry barbarous nation have betray'd her;
+Who conquer her as oft as they invade her,
+So beauty, guarded out by Innocence,
+That ruins her which should be her defence.
+
+  Ingratitude, a devil of black renown,
+Possess'd her very early for his own:
+An ugly, surly, sullen, selfish spirit,
+Who Satan's worst perfections does inherit;
+Second to him in malice and in force,
+All devil without, and all within him worse.
+
+  He made her first-born race to be so rude,
+And suffer'd her to be so oft subdued;
+By sev'ral crowds of wandering thieves o'er-run,
+Often unpeopled, and as oft undone;
+While ev'ry nation that her powers reduced,
+Their languages and manners introduced;
+From whose mix'd relics our compounded breed,
+By spurious generation does succeed;
+Making a race uncertain and uneven,
+Derived from all the nations under heaven.
+
+  The Romans first with Julius Cæsar came,
+Including all the nations of that name,
+Gauls, Greek, and Lombards; and, by computation,
+Auxiliaries or slaves of ev'ry nation.
+With Hengist, Saxons; Danes with Sweno came,
+In search of plunder, not in search of fame.
+Scots, Picts, and Irish from th' Hibernian shore;
+And conq'ring William brought the Normans o'er.
+
+  All these their barb'rous offspring left behind,
+The dregs of armies, they of all mankind;
+Blended with Britons, who before were here,
+Of whom the Welch ha' blest the character.
+
+  From this amphibious, ill-born mob began,
+That vain ill-natured thing, an Englishman.
+The customs, sirnames, languages, and manners,
+Of all these nations, are their own explainers;
+Whose relics are so lasting and so strong,
+They've left a Shiboleth upon our tongue;
+By which, with easy search, you may distinguish
+Your Roman, Saxon, Danish, Norman, English.
+
+  The great invading Norman let us know
+What conquerors in after-times might do.
+To every musqueteer he brought to town,
+He gave the lands which never were his own;
+When first the English crown he did obtain,
+He did not send his Dutchmen home again.
+No re-assumptions in his reign were known,
+Davenant might there ha' let his book alone.
+No parliament his army could disband;
+He raised no money, for he paid in land.
+He gave his legions their eternal station,
+And made them all freeholders of the nation.
+He canton'd out the country to his men,
+And every soldier was a denizen.
+The rascals thus enrich'd, he called them lords,
+To please their upstart pride with new-made words,
+And doomsday book his tyranny records.
+
+  And here begins the ancient pedigree
+That so exalts our poor nobility.
+'Tis that from some French trooper they derive,
+Who with the Norman bastard did arrive:
+The trophies of the families appear;
+Some show the sword, the bow, and some the spear,
+Which their great ancestor, forsooth, did wear.
+These in the herald's register remain,
+Their noble mean extraction to explain,
+Yet who the hero was no man can tell,
+Whether a drummer or a colonel:
+The silent record blushes to reveal
+Their undescended dark original.
+
+  But grant the best. How came the change to pass;
+A true-born Englishman of Norman race?
+A Turkish horse can show more history,
+To prove his well-descended family.
+Conquest, as by the moderns 'tis express'd,
+May give a title to the lands possess'd;
+But that the longest sword should be so civil,
+To make a Frenchman English, that's the devil.
+
+  These are the heroes that despise the Dutch,
+And rail at new-come foreigners so much;
+Forgetting that themselves are all derived
+From the most scoundrel race that ever lived;
+A horrid crowd of rambling thieves and drones
+Who ransack'd kingdoms, and dispeopled towns;
+The Pict and painted Briton, treach'rous Scot,
+By hunger, theft, and rapine, hither brought;
+Norwegian pirates, buccaneering Danes,
+Whose red-hair'd offspring everywhere remains;
+Who, join'd with Norman French, compound the breed
+From whence your true-born Englishmen proceed.
+
+  And lest, by length of time, it be pretended,
+The climate may this modern breed have mended;
+Wise Providence, to keep us where we are,
+Mixes us daily with exceeding care;
+We have been Europe's sink, the jakes, where she
+Voids all her offal out-cast progeny;
+From our fifth Henry's time the strolling bands,
+Of banish'd fugitives from neighb'ring lands,
+Have here a certain sanctuary found:
+The eternal refuge of the vagabond,
+Where in but half a common age of time,
+Borrowing new blood and manners from the clime,
+Proudly they learn all mankind to contemn,
+And all their race are true-born Englishmen.
+
+  Dutch Walloons, Flemmings, Irishmen, and Scots,
+Vaudois, and Valtolins, and Hugonots,
+In good Queen Bess's charitable reign,
+Supplied us with three hundred thousand men:
+Religion--God, we thank thee!--sent them hither,
+Priests, Protestants, the devil, and all together;
+Of all professions, and of ev'ry trade,
+All that were persecuted or afraid:
+Whether for debt, or other crimes, they fled,
+David at Hackelah was still their head.
+
+  The offspring of this miscellaneous crowd,
+Had not their new plantations long enjoy'd,
+But they grew Englishmen, and raised their votes,
+At foreign shoals of interloping Scots;
+The royal branch from Pict-land did succeed,
+With troops of Scots and scabs from north of Tweed;
+The seven first years of his pacific reign,
+Made him and half his nation Englishmen.
+Scots from the northern frozen banks of Tay,
+With packs and plods came whigging all away,
+Thick as the locusts which in Egypt swarm'd,
+With pride and hungry hopes completely arm'd;
+With native truth, diseases, and no money,
+Plunder'd our Canaan of the milk and honey;
+Here they grew quickly lords and gentlemen,
+And all their race are true-born Englishmen.
+
+  The civil wars, the common purgative,
+Which always use to make the nation thrive,
+Made way for all that strolling congregation,
+Which throng'd in pious Charles's restoration.
+The royal refugee our breed restores,
+With foreign courtiers, and with foreign whores:
+And carefully re-peopled us again,
+Throughout his lazy, long, lascivious reign,
+With such a blest and true-born English fry,
+As much illustrates our nobility.
+A gratitude which will so black appear,
+As future ages must abhor to bear:
+When they look back on all that crimson flood,
+Which stream'd in Lindsey's, and Caernarvon's blood;
+Bold Strafford, Cambridge, Capel, Lucas, Lisle,
+Who crown'd in death his father's fun'ral pile.
+The loss of whom, in order to supply
+With true-born English nobility,
+Six bastard dukes survive his luscious reign,
+The labours of Italian Castlemain,
+French Portsmouth, Tabby Scott, and Cambrian;
+Besides the num'rous bright and virgin throng,
+Whose female glories shade them from my song.
+This offspring if our age they multiply,
+May half the house with English peers supply:
+There with true English pride they may contemn
+Schomberg and Portland, new-made noblemen.
+
+  French cooks, Scotch pedlars, and Italian whores,
+Were all made lords or lords' progenitors.
+Beggars and bastards by this new creation
+Much multiplied the peerage of the nation;
+Who will be all, ere one short age runs o'er,
+As true-born lords as those we had before.
+
+  Then to recruit the commons he prepares,
+And heal the latent breaches of the wars;
+The pious purpose better to advance,
+He invites the banish'd Protestants of France;
+Hither for God's sake, and their own, they fled
+Some for religion came, and some for bread:
+Two hundred thousand pair of wooden shoes,
+Who, God be thank'd, had nothing left to lose;
+To heaven's great praise did for religion fly,
+To make us starve our poor in charity.
+In ev'ry port they plant their fruitful train,
+To get a race of true-born Englishmen;
+Whose children will, when riper years they see,
+Be as ill-natured, and as proud as we;
+Call themselves English, foreigners despise,
+Be surly like us all, and just as wise.
+
+  Thus from a mixture of all kinds began,
+That heterogeneous thing, an Englishman:
+In eager rapes, and furious lust begot,
+Betwixt a painted Briton and a Scot:
+Whose gend'ring offspring quickly learn'd to bow,
+And yoke their heifers to the Roman plough;
+From whence a mongrel half-bred race there came,
+With neither name nor nation, speech or fame,
+In whose hot veins new mixtures quickly ran,
+Infused betwixt a Saxon and a Dane;
+While their rank daughters, to their parents just,
+Received all nations with promiscuous lust.
+This nauseous brood directly did contain
+The well-extracted blood of Englishmen.
+
+  Which medley, canton'd in a heptarchy,
+A rhapsody of nations to supply,
+Among themselves maintain'd eternal wars,
+And still the ladies loved the conquerors.
+
+  The Western Angles all the rest subdued,
+A bloody nation, barbarous and rude;
+Who by the tenure of the sword possess'd
+One part of Britain, and subdued the rest:
+And as great things denominate the small,
+The conquering part gave title to the whole;
+The Scot, Pict, Briton, Roman, Dane, submit,
+And with the English Saxon all unite:
+And these the mixture have so close pursued,
+The very name and memory's subdued;
+No Roman now, no Briton does remain;
+Wales strove to separate, but strove in vain:
+The silent nations undistinguish'd fall,
+And Englishman's the common name for all.
+Fate jumbled them together, God knows how;
+Whate'er they were, they're true-born English now.
+
+  The wonder which remains is at our pride,
+To value that which all wise men deride;
+For Englishmen to boast of generation
+Cancels their knowledge, and lampoons the nation,
+A true-born Englishman's a contradiction,
+In speech an irony, in fact a fiction:
+A banter made to be a test of fools,
+Which those that use it justly ridicules;
+A metaphor intended to express,
+A man a-kin to all the universe.
+
+  For as the Scots, as learned men have said,
+Throughout the world their wand'ring seed have spread,
+So open-handed England, 'tis believed,
+Has all the gleanings of the world received.
+
+  Some think of England, 'twas our Saviour meant,
+The Gospel should to all the world be sent:
+Since when the blessed sound did hither reach,
+They to all nations might be said to preach.
+
+  'Tis well that virtue gives nobility,
+Else God knows where had we our gentry,
+Since scarce one family is left alive,
+Which does not from some foreigner derive.
+Of sixty thousand English gentlemen,
+Whose names and arms in registers remain,
+We challenge all our heralds to declare
+Ten families which English Saxons are.
+
+  France justly boasts the ancient noble line
+Of Bourbon, Montmorency, and Lorraine.
+The Germans too, their house of Austria show,
+And Holland, their invincible Nassau.
+Lines which in heraldry were ancient grown,
+Before the name of Englishman was known.
+Even Scotland, too, her elder glory shows,
+Her Gordons, Hamiltons, and her Monro's;
+Douglas', Mackays, and Grahams, names well known,
+Long before ancient England knew her own.
+
+  But England, modern to the last degree,
+Borrows or makes her own nobility,
+And yet she boldly boasts of pedigree;
+Repines that foreigners are put upon her,
+And talks of her antiquity and honour:
+Her Sackvills, Savils, Cecils, Delamers,
+Mohuns, Montagues, Duras, and Veeres,
+Not one have English names, yet all are English peers.
+Your Houblons, Papillons, and Lethuliers,
+Pass now for true-born English knights and squires,
+And make good senate-members, or lord-mayors.
+Wealth, howsoever got, in England makes
+Lords of mechanics, gentlemen of rakes.
+Antiquity and birth are needless here;
+'Tis impudence and money makes a peer.
+
+  Innumerable city knights we know,
+From Blue-coat Hospitals, and Bridewell flow.
+Draymen and porters fill the city chair,
+And foot-boys magisterial purple wear.
+Fate has but very small distinction set
+Betwixt the counter and the coronet.
+Tarpaulin lords, pages of high renown,
+Rise up by poor men's valour, not their own;
+Great families of yesterday we show,
+And lords, whose parents were the Lord knows who.
+
+
+PART II.
+
+The breed's described: now, Satire, if you can,
+Their temper show, for manners make the man.
+Fierce as the Briton, as the Roman brave,
+And less inclined to conquer than to save;
+Eager to fight, and lavish of their blood,
+And equally of fear and forecast void.
+The Pict has made them sour, the Dane morose,
+False from the Scot, and from the Norman worse.
+What honesty they have, the Saxon gave them,
+And that, now they grow old, begins to leave them.
+The climate makes them terrible and bold:
+And English beef their courage does uphold:
+No danger can their daring spirit dull,
+Always provided when their belly's full.
+
+  In close intrigues, their faculty's but weak;
+For, gen'rally, whate'er they know they speak.
+And often their own councils undermine
+By their infirmity, and not design.
+From whence, the learned say, it does proceed,
+That English treason never can succeed:
+For they're so open-hearted, you may know
+Their own most secret thoughts, and others too.
+
+  The lab'ring poor, in spite of double pay,
+Are saucy, mutinous, and beggarly;
+So lavish of their money and their time,
+That want of forecast is the nation's crime.
+Good drunken company is their delight;
+And what they get by day they spend by night.
+Dull thinking seldom does their heads engage,
+But drink their youth away, and hurry on old age.
+Empty of all good husbandry and sense;
+And void of manners most when void of pence.
+Their strong aversion to behaviour's such,
+They always talk too little or too much.
+So dull, they never take the pains to think;
+And seldom are good natured but in drink.
+
+  In English ale their dear enjoyment lies,
+For which they starve themselves and families.
+An Englishman will fairly drink as much,
+As will maintain two families of Dutch:
+Subjecting all their labours to the pots;
+The greatest artists are the greatest sots.
+The country poor do by example live;
+The gentry lead them, and the clergy drive;
+What may we not from such examples hope?
+The landlord is their god, the priest their pope;
+A drunken clergy, and a swearing bench,
+Has given the reformation such a drench,
+As wise men think, there is some cause to doubt,
+Will purge good manners and religion out.
+
+  Nor do the poor alone their liquor prize,
+The sages join in this great sacrifice;
+The learned men who study Aristotle,
+Correct him with an explanation bottle:
+Praise Epicurus rather than Lysander,
+And Aristippus more than Alexander;
+The doctors too their Galen here resign,
+And generally prescribe specific wine;
+The graduate's study's grown an easy task,
+While for the urinal they toss the flask;
+The surgeon's art grows plainer every hour,
+And wine's the balm which into wounds they pour.
+
+  Poets long since Parnassus have forsaken,
+And say the ancient bards were all mistaken.
+Apollo's lately abdicate and fled,
+And good king Bacchus reigneth in his stead:
+He does the chaos of the head refine,
+And atom thoughts jump into words by wine:
+The inspiration's of a finer nature,
+As wine must needs excel Parnassus water.
+
+  Statesmen their weighty politics refine,
+And soldiers raise their courages by wine.
+Cecilia gives her choristers their choice,
+And lets them all drink wine to clear the voice.
+
+  Some think the clergy first found out the way,
+And wine's the only spirit by which they pray.
+But others, less profane than so, agree,
+It clears the lungs, and helps the memory:
+And, therefore, all of them divinely think,
+Instead of study, 'tis as well to drink.
+
+  And here I would be very glad to know,
+Whether our Asgilites may drink or no;
+The enlightening fumes of wine would certainly
+Assist them much when they begin to fly;
+Or if a fiery chariot should appear,
+Inflamed by wine, they'd have the less to fear.
+
+  Even the gods themselves, as mortals say,
+Were they on earth, would be as drunk as they:
+Nectar would be no more celestial drink,
+They'd all take wine, to teach them how to think.
+But English drunkards, gods and men outdo,
+Drink their estates away, and senses too.
+Colon's in debt, and if his friend should fail
+To help him out, must die at last in jail:
+His wealthy uncle sent a hundred nobles,
+To pay his trifles off, and rid him of his troubles:
+But Colon, like a true-born Englishman,
+Drunk all the money out in bright champaign,
+And Colon does in custody remain.
+Drunk'ness has been the darling of the realm,
+E'er since a drunken pilot had the helm.
+
+  In their religion, they're so uneven,
+That each man goes his own byway to heaven.
+Tenacious of mistakes to that degree,
+That ev'ry man pursues it sep'rately,
+And fancies none can find the way but he:
+So shy of one another they are grown,
+As if they strove to get to heaven alone.
+Rigid and zealous, positive and grave,
+And ev'ry grace, but charity, they have;
+This makes them so ill-natured and uncivil,
+That all men think an Englishman the devil.
+
+  Surly to strangers, froward to their friend,
+Submit to love with a reluctant mind,
+Resolved to be ungrateful and unkind.
+If, by necessity, reduced to ask,
+The giver has the difficultest task:
+For what's bestow'd they awkwardly receive,
+And always take less freely than they give;
+The obligation is their highest grief,
+They never love where they accept relief;
+So sullen in their sorrows, that 'tis known
+They'll rather die than their afflictions own;
+And if relieved, it is too often true,
+That they'll abuse their benefactors too;
+For in distress their haughty stomach's such,
+They hate to see themselves obliged too much;
+Seldom contented, often in the wrong,
+Hard to be pleased at all, and never long.
+
+  If your mistakes there ill opinion gain,
+No merit can their favour re-obtain:
+And if they're not vindictive in their fury,
+'Tis their inconstant temper does secure ye:
+Their brain's so cool, their passion seldom burns;
+For all's condensed before the flame returns:
+The fermentation's of so weak a matter,
+The humid damps the flame, and runs it all to water;
+So though the inclination may be strong,
+They're pleased by fits, and never angry long:
+
+  Then, if good-nature show some slender proof,
+They never think they have reward enough;
+But, like our modern Quakers of the town,
+Expect your manners, and return you none.
+
+  Friendship, th' abstracted union of the mind,
+Which all men seek, but very few can find;
+Of all the nations in the universe,
+None can talk on't more, or understand it less;
+For if it does their property annoy,
+Their property their friendship will destroy.
+As you discourse them, you shall hear them tell
+All things in which they think they do excel:
+No panegyric needs their praise record,
+An Englishman ne'er wants his own good word.
+His first discourses gen'rally appear,
+Prologued with his own wond'rous character:
+When, to illustrate his own good name,
+He never fails his neighbour to defame.
+And yet he really designs no wrong,
+His malice goes no further than his tongue.
+But, pleased to tattle, he delights to rail,
+To satisfy the letch'ry of a tale.
+His own dear praises close the ample speech,
+Tells you how wise he is, that is, how rich:
+For wealth is wisdom; he that's rich is wise;
+And all men learned poverty despise:
+His generosity comes next, and then
+Concludes, that he's a true-born Englishman;
+And they, 'tis known, are generous and free,
+Forgetting, and forgiving injury:
+Which may be true, thus rightly understood,
+Forgiving ill turns, and forgetting good.
+
+  Cheerful in labour when they've undertook it,
+But out of humour, when they're out of pocket.
+But if their belly and their pocket's full,
+They may be phlegmatic, but never dull:
+And if a bottle does their brains refine,
+It makes their wit as sparkling as their wine.
+
+  As for the general vices which we find,
+They're guilty of in common with mankind,
+Satire forbear, and silently endure,
+We must conceal the crimes we cannot cure;
+Nor shall my verse the brighter sex defame,
+For English beauty will preserve her name;
+Beyond dispute agreeable and fair,
+And modester than other nations are;
+For where the vice prevails, the great temptation
+Is want of money more than inclination;
+In general this only is allow'd,
+They're something noisy, and a little proud.
+
+  An Englishman is gentlest in command,
+Obedience is a stranger in the land:
+Hardly subjected to the magistrate;
+For Englishmen do all subjection hate.
+Humblest when rich, but peevish when they're poor,
+And think whate'er they have, they merit more.
+
+  The meanest English plowman studies law,
+And keeps thereby the magistrates in awe,
+Will boldly tell them what they ought to do,
+And sometimes punish their omissions too.
+
+  Their liberty and property's so dear,
+They scorn their laws or governors to fear;
+So bugbear'd with the name of slavery,
+They can't submit to their own liberty.
+Restraint from ill is freedom to the wise!
+But Englishmen do all restraint despise.
+Slaves to the liquor, drudges to the pots;
+The mob are statesmen, and their statesmen sots.
+
+  Their governors, they count such dang'rous things,
+That 'tis their custom to affront their kings:
+So jealous of the power their kings possess'd,
+They suffer neither power nor kings to rest.
+The bad with force they eagerly subdue;
+The good with constant clamours they pursue,
+And did King Jesus reign, they'd murmur too.
+A discontented nation, and by far
+Harder to rule in times of peace than war:
+Easily set together by the ears,
+And full of causeless jealousies and fears:
+Apt to revolt, and willing to rebel,
+And never are contented when they're well.
+No government could ever please them long,
+Could tie their hands, or rectify their tongue.
+In this, to ancient Israel well compared,
+Eternal murmurs are among them heard.
+
+  It was but lately, that they were oppress'd,
+Their rights invaded, and their laws suppress'd:
+When nicely tender of their liberty,
+Lord! what a noise they made of slavery.
+In daily tumults show'd their discontent,
+Lampoon'd their king, and mock'd his government.
+And if in arms they did not first appear,
+'Twas want of force, and not for want of fear.
+In humbler tone than English used to do,
+At foreign hands for foreign aid they sue.
+
+  William, the great successor of Nassau,
+Their prayers heard, and their oppressions saw;
+He saw and saved them: God and him they praised
+To this their thanks, to that their trophies raised.
+But glutted with their own felicities,
+They soon their new deliverer despise;
+Say all their prayers back, their joy disown,
+Unsing their thanks, and pull their trophies down;
+Their harps of praise are on the willows hung;
+For Englishmen are ne'er contented long.
+
+  The reverend clergy too, and who'd ha' thought
+That they who had such non-resistance taught,
+Should e'er to arms against their prince be brought
+Who up to heav'n did regal power advance;
+Subjecting English laws to modes of France
+Twisting religion so with loyalty,
+As one could never live, and t'other die;
+And yet no sooner did their prince design
+Their glebes and perquisites to undermine,
+But all their passive doctrines laid aside,
+The clergy their own principles denied;
+Unpreach'd their non-resisting cant, and pray'd
+To heav'n for help, and to the Dutch for aid;
+The church chimed all her doctrines back again,
+And pulpit-champions did the cause maintain;
+Flew in the face of all their former zeal,
+And non-resistance did at once repeal.
+
+  The Rabbi's say it would be too prolix,
+To tie religion up to politics,
+The churches' safety is _suprema lex_:
+And so by a new figure of their own,
+Their former doctrines all at once disown;
+As laws _post facto_ in the parliament,
+In urgent cases have attained assent;
+But are as dangerous precedents laid by,
+Made lawful only by necessity.
+
+  The rev'rend fathers then in arms appear,
+And men of God became the men of war:
+The nation, fired by them, to arms apply,
+Assault their antichristian monarchy;
+To their due channel all our laws restore,
+And made things what they should have been before.
+But when they came to fill the vacant throne,
+And the pale priests look'd back on what they'd done,
+How England liberty began to thrive,
+And Church of England loyality outlive;
+How all their persecuting days were done,
+And their deliv'rer placed upon the throne:
+The priests, as priests are wont to do, turn'd tail,
+They're Englishmen, and nature will prevail;
+Now they deplore their ruins they have made,
+And murmur for the master they betray'd;
+Excuse those crimes they could not make him mend,
+And suffer for the cause they can't defend;
+Pretend they'd not have carried things so high,
+And proto-martyrs make for popery.
+
+  Had the prince done as they design'd the thing,
+High set the clergy up to rule the king:
+Taken a donative for coming hither,
+And so have left their king and them together;
+We had, say they, been now a happy nation;
+No doubt we had seen a blessed reformation:
+For wise men say 'tis as dangerous a thing,
+A ruling priesthood, as a priest-rid king;
+And of all plagues with which mankind are curst,
+Ecclesiastic tyranny's the worst.
+
+  If all our former grievances were feign'd,
+King James has been abused, and we trepann'd;
+Bugbear'd with popery and power despotic,
+Tyrannic government, and leagues exotic;
+The revolution's a fanatic plot,
+William's a tyrant, King James was not;
+A factious army and a poison'd nation,
+Unjustly forced King James's abdication.
+
+  But if he did the subjects' rights invade,
+Then he was punish'd only, not betrayed;
+And punishing of kings is no such crime,
+But Englishmen have done it many a time.
+
+  When kings the sword of justice first lay down,
+They are no kings, though they possess the crown.
+Titles are shadows, crowns are empty things,
+The good of subjects is the end of kings;
+To guide in war, and to protect in peace,
+Where tyrants once commence the kings do cease;
+For arbitrary power's so strange a thing,
+It makes the tyrant and unmakes the king:
+If kings by foreign priests and armies reign,
+And lawless power against their oaths maintain,
+Then subjects must have reason to complain:
+If oaths must bind us when our kings do ill,
+To call in foreign aid is to rebel:
+By force to circumscribe our lawful prince,
+Is wilful treason in the largest sense:
+And they who once rebel, must certainly
+Their God, and king, and former oaths defy;
+If ye allow no mal-administration
+Could cancel the allegiance of the nation,
+Let all our learned sons of Levi try,
+This ecclesiastic riddle to untie;
+How they could make a step to call the prince,
+And yet pretend the oath and innocence.
+
+  By th' first address they made beyond the seas,
+They're perjur'd in the most intense degrees;
+And without scruple for the time to come,
+May swear to all the kings in Christendom:
+Nay, truly did our kings consider all,
+They'd never let the clergy swear at all,
+Their politic allegiance they'd refuse,
+For whores and priests do never want excuse.
+
+  But if the mutual contract was dissolved,
+The doubt's explain'd, the difficulty solved;
+That kings, when they descend to tyranny,
+Dissolve the bond, and leave the subject free;
+The government's ungirt when justice dies,
+And constitutions are nonentities.
+The nation's all a mob, there's no such thing,
+As lords, or commons, parliament, or king;
+A great promiscuous crowd the Hydra lies,
+Till laws revive and mutual contract ties;
+A chaos free to choose for their own share,
+What case of government they please to wear;
+If to a king they do the reins commit,
+All men are bound in conscience to submit;
+But then the king must by his oath assent,
+To _Postulata's_ of the government;
+Which if he breaks he cuts off the entail,
+And power retreats to its original.
+
+  This doctrine has the sanction of assent
+From nature's universal Parliament:
+The voice of nations, and the course of things,
+Allow that laws superior are to kings;
+None but delinquents would have justice cease,
+Knaves rail at laws, as soldiers rail at peace:
+For justice is the end of government,
+As reason is the test of argument:
+No man was ever yet so void of sense,
+As to debate the right of self-defence;
+A principle so grafted in the mind,
+With nature born, and does like nature bind;
+Twisted with reason, and with nature too,
+As neither one nor t'other can undo.
+
+  Nor can this right be less when national,
+Reason which governs one should govern all;
+Whate'er the dialect of courts may tell,
+He that his right demands can ne'er rebel;
+Which right, if 'tis by governors denied,
+May be procured by force or foreign aid;
+For tyranny's a nation's term of grief,
+As folks cry fire to hasten in relief;
+And when the hated word is heard about,
+All men should come to help the people out.
+
+  Thus England groan'd, Britannia's voice was heard,
+And great Nassau to rescue her appear'd:
+Call'd by the universal voice of fate,
+God and the people's legal magistrate:
+Ye heavens regard! Almighty Jove look down,
+And view thy injured monarch on the throne;
+On their ungrateful heads due vengeance take
+Who sought his aid, and then his part forsake:
+Witness, ye powers! it was our call alone,
+Which now our pride makes us ashamed to own;
+Britannia's troubles fetch'd him from afar,
+To court the dreadful casualties of war;
+But where requital never can be made,
+Acknowledgment's a tribute seldom paid.
+
+  He dwelt in bright Maria's circling arms,
+Defended by the magic of her charms,
+From foreign fears and from domestic harms;
+Ambition found no fuel for her fire,
+He had what God could give or man desire,
+Till pity roused him from his soft repose,
+His life to unseen hazards to expose;
+Till pity moved him in our cause to appear,
+Pity! that word which now we hate to hear;
+But English gratitude is always such,
+To hate the hand that does oblige too much.
+
+  Britannia's cries gave birth to his intent,
+And hardly gain'd his unforeseen assent;
+His boding thoughts foretold him he should find
+The people fickle, selfish, and unkind;
+Which thought did to his royal heart appear
+More dreadful than the dangers of the war;
+For nothing grates a generous mind so soon,
+As base returns for hearty service done.
+
+  Satire, be silent! awfully prepare
+Britannia's song, and William's praise to hear;
+Stand by, and let her cheerfully rehearse
+Her grateful vows in her immortal verse.
+Loud fame's eternal trumpet let her sound,
+Listen, ye distant poles, and endless round,
+May the strong blast the welcome news convey,
+As far as sound can reach or spirit fly!
+To neighb'ring worlds, if such there be, relate
+Our heroes fame for theirs to imitate;
+To distant worlds of spirits let her rehearse,
+For spirits without the helps of voice converse:
+May angels hear the gladsome news on high,
+Mix'd with their everlasting symphony;
+And hell itself stand in surprise to know,
+Whether it be the fatal blast or no.
+
+
+BRITANNIA.
+
+  The fame of virtue 'tis for which I sound,
+And heroes with immortal triumphs crown'd;
+Fame built on solid virtue swifter flies,
+Than morning light can spread the eastern skies:
+The gath'ring air returns the doubling sound;
+And loud repeating thunders force it round;
+Echoes return from caverns of the deep,
+Old Chaos dreams on't in eternal sleep:
+Time hands it forward to its latest urn,
+From whence it never, never shall return:
+Nothing is heard so far, or lasts so long,
+'Tis heard by ev'ry ear, and spoke by every tongue.
+
+  My hero, with the sails of honour furl'd,
+Rises like the great genius of the world;
+By fate and fame wisely prepared to be
+The soul of war and life of victory;
+He spreads the wings of virtue on the throne,
+And ev'ry wind of glory fans them on;
+Immortal trophies dwell upon his brow,
+Fresh as the garlands he has won but now.
+
+  By different steps the high ascent he gains,
+And differently that high ascent maintains:
+Princes for pride and lust of rule make war,
+And struggle for the name of conqueror;
+Some fight for fame, and some for victory,
+He fights to save, and conquers to set free.
+
+  Then seek no phrase his titles to conceal,
+And hide with words what actions must reveal;
+No parallel from Hebrew stories take,
+Of godlike kings my similies to make;
+No borrowed names conceal my living theme,
+But names and things directly I proclaim;
+His honest merit does his glory raise,
+Whom that exalts let no man fear to praise;
+Of such a subject no man need be shy,
+Virtue's above the reach of flattery;
+He needs no character but his own fame,
+Nor any flattering titles but his own name.
+
+  William's the name that's spoke by every tongue,
+William's the darling subject of my song;
+Listen, ye virgins, to the charming sound,
+And in eternal dances hand it round;
+Your early offerings to this altar bring,
+Make him at once a lover and a king;
+May he submit to none but to your arms,
+Nor ever be subdued, but by your charms;
+May your soft thoughts for him be all sublime,
+And ev'ry tender vow be made for him;
+May he be first in ev'ry morning thought,
+And heav'n ne'er hear a prayer where he's left out;
+May every omen, every boding dream,
+Be fortunate by mentioning his name;
+May this one charm infernal powers affright,
+And guard you from the terror of the night;
+May ev'ry cheerful glass as it goes down
+To William's health, be cordials to your own:
+Let ev'ry song be chorust with his name,
+And music pay her tribute to his fame;
+Let ev'ry poet tune his artful verse,
+And in immortal strains his deeds rehearse:
+And may Apollo never more inspire
+The disobedient bard with his seraphic fire
+May all my sons their grateful homage pay,
+His praises sing, and for his safety pray.
+
+  Satire, return to our unthankful isle,
+Secured by heaven's regards, and William's toil:
+To both ungrateful, and to both untrue,
+Rebels to God, and to good nature too.
+
+  If e'er this nation be distress'd again,
+To whomsoe'er they cry, they'll cry in vain;
+To heav'n they cannot have the face to look,
+Or, if they should, it would but heav'n provoke;
+To hope for help from man would be too much,
+Mankind would always tell 'em of the Dutch:
+How they came here our freedoms to maintain,
+Were paid, and cursed, and hurried home again;
+How by their aid we first dissolved our fears,
+And then our helpers damn'd for foreigners:
+'Tis not our English temper to do better,
+For Englishmen think ev'ry one their debtor.
+
+  'Tis worth observing, that we ne'er complain'd
+Of foreigners, nor of the wealth we gain'd,
+Till all their services were at an end:
+Wise men affirm it is the English way,
+Never to grumble till they come to pay;
+And then they always think, their temper's such,
+The work too little, and the pay too much.
+
+  As frighted patients, when they want a cure,
+Bid any price, and any pain endure:
+But when the doctor's remedies appear,
+The cure's too easy, and the price too dear:
+Great Portland near was banter'd when he strove,
+For us his master's kindest thoughts to move:
+We ne'er lampoon'd his conduct, when employ'd
+King James's secret councils to divide:
+Then we caress'd him as the only man,
+Who could the doubtful oracle explain;
+The only Hushai, able to repel
+The dark designs of our Achitophel:
+Compared his master's courage to his sense,
+The ablest statesman, and the bravest prince;
+On his wise conduct we depended much,
+And liked him ne'er the worse for being Dutch:
+Nor was he valued more than he deserved,
+Freely he ventured, faithfully he served;
+In all King William's dangers he has shared,
+In England's quarrels always he appear'd:
+The revolution first, and then the Boyne,
+In both, his counsels and his conduct shine;
+His martial valour Flanders will confess,
+And France regrets his managing the peace;
+Faithful to England's interest and her king,
+The greatest reason of our murmuring:
+Ten years in English service he appear'd,
+And gain'd his master's and the world's regard;
+But 'tis not England's custom to reward,
+The wars are over, England needs him not;
+Now he's a Dutchman, and the Lord knows what.
+
+  Schonbergh, the ablest soldier of his age,
+With great Nassau did in our cause engage;
+Both join'd for England's rescue and defence,
+The greatest captain and the greatest prince;
+With what applause his stories did we tell,
+Stories which Europe's volumes largely swell!
+We counted him an army in our aid,
+Where he commanded, no man was afraid;
+His actions with a constant conquest shine,
+From Villa Vitiosa to the Rhine;
+France, Flanders, Germany, his fame confess,
+And all the world was fond of him but us:
+Our turn first served, we grudged him the command,
+Witness the grateful temper of the land.
+
+   We blame the King, that he relies too much,
+On Strangers, Germans, Hugonots, and Dutch;
+And seldom does his great affairs of state,
+To English counsellors communicate:
+The fact might very well be answer'd thus:
+He had so often been betray'd by us,
+He must have been a madman to rely,
+On English gentlemen's fidelity;
+For, laying other argument aside:
+This thought might mortify our English pride;
+That foreigners have faithfully obey'd him,
+And none but Englishmen have e'er betray'd him:
+They have our ships and merchants bought and sold,
+And barter'd English blood for foreign gold;
+First to the French they sold our Turkey fleet,
+And injured Talmarsh next at Cameret;
+The king himself is shelter'd from their snares,
+Not by his merits, but the crown he wears;
+Experience tells us 'tis the English way,
+Their benefactors always to betray.
+
+   And, lest examples should be too remote,
+A modern magistrate of famous note,
+Shall give you his own history by rote;
+I'll make it out, deny it he that can,
+His worship is a true-born Englishman;
+By all the latitude that empty word,
+By modern acceptation's understood:
+The parish books his great descent record,
+And now he hopes ere long to be a lord;
+And truly, as things go, it would be pity,
+But such as he bore office in the city;
+While robb'ry for burnt-offering he brings,
+And gives to God what he has stole from kings;
+Great monuments of charity he raises,
+And good St. Magnus whistles out his praises;
+To city jails he grants a jubilee,
+And hires huzza's from his own mobile.
+
+  Lately he wore the golden chain and gown,
+With which equipp'd he thus harangued the town.
+
+
+HIS FINE SPEECH, &c.
+
+  With clouted iron shoes, and sheep-skin breeches,
+More rags than manners, and more dirt than riches,
+From driving cows and calves to Leyton market,
+While of my greatness there appear'd no spark yet,
+Behold I come to let you see the pride,
+With which exalted beggars always ride.
+
+   Born to the needful labours of the plough,
+The cart-whip graced me, as the chain does now.
+Nature and fate in doubt what course to take,
+Whether I should a lord or plough-boy make;
+Kindly at last resolv'd they would promote me,
+And first a knave, and then a knight they vote me.
+What fate appointed, nature did prepare,
+And furnish'd me with an exceeding care,
+To fit me for what they design'd to have me;
+And every gift but honesty they gave me.
+
+  And thus equipp'd, to this proud town I came,
+In quest of bread, and not in quest of fame.
+Blind to my future fate, an humble boy,
+Free from the guilt and glory I enjoy.
+The hopes which my ambition entertain'd,
+Where in the name of foot-boy, all contain'd.
+The greatest heights from small beginnings rise;
+The gods were great on earth, before they reach'd the skies.
+
+  Backwell, the generous temper of whose mind,
+Was always to be bountiful inclin'd:
+Whether by his ill fate or fancy led,
+First took me up, and furnish'd me with bread:
+The little services he put me to,
+Seem'd labours, rather than were truly so.
+But always my advancement he design'd;
+For 'twas his very nature to be kind:
+Large was his soul, his temper ever free;
+The best of masters and of men to me:
+And I who was before decreed by fate,
+To be made infamous as well as great,
+With an obsequious diligence obey'd him,
+Till trusted with his all, and then betray'd him.
+
+  All his past kindnesses I trampled on,
+Ruin'd his fortunes to erect my own:
+So vipers in the bosom bred begin,
+To hiss at that hand first which took them in;
+With eager treach'ry I his fall pursu'd,
+And my first trophies were ingratitude.
+
+  Ingratitude's the worst of human guilt,
+The basest action mankind can commit;
+Which, like the sin against the Holy Ghost,
+Has least of honour, and of guilt the most;
+Distinguished from all other crimes by this,
+That 'tis a crime which no man will confess;
+That sin alone, which should not be forgiv'n
+On earth, altho' perhaps it may in heaven.
+
+  Thus my first benefactor I o'erthrew;
+And how shou'd I be to a second true?
+The public trust came next into my care,
+And I to use them scurvily prepare:
+My needy sov'reign lord I play'd upon,
+And lent him many a thousand of his own;
+For which great interest I took care to charge,
+And so my ill-got wealth became so large.
+
+  My predecessor Judas was a fool,
+Fitter to have been whipt and sent to school,
+Than sell a Saviour: had I been at hand,
+His Master had not been so cheap trepann'd;
+I would have made the eager Jews have found,
+For thirty pieces, thirty thousand pound.
+
+  My cousin Ziba, of immortal fame,
+(Ziba and I shall never want a name:)
+First-born of treason, nobly did advance
+His Master's fall, for his inheritance:
+By whose keen arts old David first began
+To break his sacred oath to Jonathan:
+The good old king 'tis thought was very loth
+To break his word, and therefore broke his oath.
+Ziba's a traitor of some quality,
+Yet Ziba might have been inform'd by me:
+Had I been there, he ne'er had been content
+With half th' estate, nor half the government.
+
+  In our late revolution 'twas thought strange,
+That I of all mankind should like the change,
+But they who wonder'd at it never knew,
+That in it I did my old game pursue:
+Nor had they heard of twenty thousand pound,
+Which ne'er was lost, yet never could be found.
+
+  Thus all things in their turn to sale I bring,
+God and my master first, and then the king;
+Till by successful villanies made bold,
+I thought to turn the nation into gold;
+And so to forgery my hand I bent,
+Not doubting I could gull the Government;
+But there was ruffl'd by the Parliament.
+And if I 'scaped th' unhappy tree to climb,
+'Twas want of law, and not for want of crime;
+
+  But my old friend,[A] who printed in my face
+A needful competence of English brass;
+Having more business yet for me to do,
+And loth to lose his trusty servant so,
+Managed the matter with such art and skill,
+As sav'd his hero, and threw out the Bill.
+
+  And now I'm grac'd with unexpected honours,
+For which I'll certainly abuse the donors:
+Knighted, and made a tribune of the people,
+Whose laws and properties I'm like to keep well:
+The custos rotulorum of the city,
+And captain of the guards of their banditti.
+Surrounded by my catchpoles, I declare
+Against the needy debtor open war.
+I hang poor thieves for stealing of your pelf,
+And suffer none to rob you, but myself.
+
+  The king commanded me to help reform ye,
+And how I'll do't, Miss ---- shall inform ye.
+I keep the best seraglio in the nation,
+And hope in time to bring it into fashion;
+No brimstone whore need fear the lash from me,
+That part I'll leave to Brother Jefferey:
+Our gallants need not go abroad to Rome,
+I'll keep a whoring jubilee at home;
+Whoring's the darling of my inclination;
+An't I a magistrate for reformation?
+For this my praise is sung by ev'ry bard,
+For which Bridewell wou'd be a just reward.
+In print my panegyric fills the street,
+And hired gaol-birds their huzzas repeat;
+Some charities contriv'd to make a show,
+Have taught the needy rabble to do so;
+Whose empty noise is a mechanic fame,
+Since for Sir Beelzebub they'd do the same.
+
+[Footnote A: The Devil.]
+
+
+THE CONCLUSION.
+
+  Then let us boast of ancestors no more,
+Or deeds of heroes done in days of yore,
+In latent records of the ages past,
+Behind the rear of time, in long oblivion plac'd;
+For if our virtues must in lines descend,
+The merit with the families would end,
+And intermixtures would most fatal grow;
+For vice would be hereditary too;
+The tainted blood would of necessity,
+Involuntary wickedness convey.
+
+  Vice, like ill-nature, for an age or two,
+May seem a generation to pursue;
+But virtue seldom does regard the breed,
+Fools do the wise, and wise men fools succeed.
+
+  What is't to us, what ancestors we had?
+If good, what better? or what worse, if bad?
+Examples are for imitation set,
+Yet all men follow virtue with regret.
+
+  Could but our ancestors retrieve their fate,
+And see their offspring thus degenerate;
+How we contend for birth and names unknown,
+And build on their past actions, not our own;
+They'd cancel records, and their tombs deface,
+And openly disown the vile degenerate race:
+For fame of families is all a cheat,
+It's personal virtue only makes us great.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The True-Born Englishman, by Daniel Defoe
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30159 ***