Some things like vifionary flight appear;
The fpirit caught him up the Lord knows where ;
And gave him his rabinnical degree,
Unknown to foreign university.
His judgment yet his memory did excel;
Which piec'd his wondrous evidence fo well,
And fuited to the temper of the times,
Then groaning under Jebufitic crimes.
Let Ifrael's foes fufpect his heavenly call,
And rafhly judge his writ apocryphal;
Our laws for fuch affronts have forfeits made:
He takes his life, who takes away his trade.
Were I myself in witness Corah's place,
The wretch who did me fuch a dire difgrace,
Should whet my memory, though once forgot,
To make him an appendix of my plot.
His zeal to heaven made him his prince defpife,
And load his person with indignities.
But zeal peculiar privilege affords,
Indulging latitude to deeds and words:
And Corah might for Agag's murder call,
In terms as coarfe as Samuel us'd to Saul.
What others in his evidence did join,
The best that could be had for love or coin,
In Corah's own predicament will fall:
For witnefs is a common name to all.
Surrounded thus with friends of every fort,
Deluded Abfalom forfakes the court:
Impatient with high hopes, urg'd with renown,
And fir'd with near poifeffion of a crown.
Th' admiring crowd are dazzled with furprize,
And on his goodly perfon feed their eyes.
His joy conceal'd he fets himself to show;
On each fide towing popularly low:
His looks, his geftures, and his words he frames,
And with familiar cafe repeats their names.
Thus form'd by nature, furnish'd out with arts,
He glides unfelt into their fecret hearts.
Then with a kind compaffionating look,
And fighs, befpeaking pity ere he spoke,
Few words he faid; but eafy thofe and fit,
More flow than Hybla-drops, and far more fweet.
I mourn, my countrymen, your loft estate;
Though far unable to prevent your fate;
Behold a banish'd man for your dear cause
Expos'd a prey to arbitrary laws!
Yet oh! that I alone could be undone,
Cut off from empire, and no more a fon!
Now all your liberties a fpoil are made;
Egypt and Tyrus intercept your trade,
And Jebufites your facred rites invade.
My father, whom with reverence yet I rame,
Charm'd into eafe, is careless of his fame;
And, brib'd with petty fums of foreign gold,
Is grown in Bathsheba's embraces old;
Exalts his enemies, his friends destroys;
And all his power against himself employs.
He gives, and let him give, my right away:
But why fhould he his own and your's betray?
He, only he, can make the nation bleed,
And he alone from my revenge is freed.
Take then my tears, with that he wip'd his eyes,
'Tis all the aid my prefent power fupplies:
No court-informer can these arms accufe;
Thefe arms may fons against their fathers ufe:
And 'tis my with, the next fucceffor's reign
May make no other Ifraelite complain.
Youth, beauty, graceful action, seldom fail;
But common intereft always will prevail :
And pity never ceafes to be fhown
To him who makes the people's wrongs his own.
The crowd, that ftill believe their kings opprefs,
With lifted hands their young Meffiah bless:
Who now begins his progrefs to ordain
With chariots, horsemen, and a numerous train:
From east to west his glories he displays,
And, like the fun, the promis'd land furveys.
Fame runs before him as the morning itar,
And fhouts of joy falute him from afar :
Each houfe receives him as a guardian god,
And confecrates the place of his abode.
But hofpitable treats did moft commend
Wife iffachar, his wealthy eaftern friend.
This moving court that caught the people's eyes,
And feem'd but pomp, did other friends difguife;
Achitophel had form'd it, with intent
To found the depths, and fathom where it went,
The people's hearts, diftinguith friends from foes,
And try their ftrength before they came to blows.
Yet all was colour'd with a imooth pretence
Of fpecious love and duty to their prince.
Religion, and redrefs of grievances,
Two names that always cheat, and always please,
Are often urg'd; and good king David's life
Endanger'd by a brother and a wife.
Thus in a pageant thew a plot is made;
And peace itfelf is war in masquerade.
Oh foolish Ifrael! never warn'd by ill!
Still the fame bait, and circumvented still!
Did ever men forfake their prefent ease,
In midft of health imagine a difeafe;
Take pains contingent mifchiefs to foresee,
Make heirs for monarch's, and for Cod decree?
What fhall we think? Can people give away,
Both for themfelves and fons, their native fway?
Then they are left defenceless to the sword
Of each unbounded, arbitrary lord:
And laws are vain, by which we right enjoy,
If kings urquestion'd can those laws deftroy.
Yet if the crowd be judge of fit and juft,
And kings are only officers in trust,
Then this refuming covenant was declar'd
When kings were made, or is for ever barr'd.
If those who gave the fcepter could not tie
By their own deed their own pofterity,
How then could Adam bind his future race >
How could his forfeit on mankind take place?
Or how could heavenly juftice damn us all,
Who ne'er confented to our father's fall?
Then kings are flaves to thole whom they com-
mand,
And tenants to their people's pleasure stand.
Add, that the power for property allow'd
Is mifchievously feated in the crowd:
For who can be fecure of private right,
If fovereign fway may be diffolv'd by might?
Nor is the people's judgment always true:
The most may r as grofsly as the few;
And faultlefs kings run down by common cry,
For vice, oppreffion, and for tyranny.
What ftandard is there in a fickle rout,
Which flowing to the mark, runs faster out?
Nor only crowds but fanhedrims may be
Infected with this public lunacy,
And share the madness of rebellious times,
To murder monarchs for imagin'd crimes.
If they may give and take whene'er they please,
Not kings alone, the Godhead's images,
But government itself at length must fall
To nature's ftate, where all have right to all.
Yet, grant our lords the people kings can make,
What prudent men a fettled throne would shake?
For whatfoe'er their fufferings were before,
That change they covet makes then fuffer more.
All other errors but difturb a state;
But innovation is the blow of fate.
If ancient fabrics rod, and threat to fall,
To patch their flaws, and buttress up the wall,
Thus far 'tis duty: but here fix the mark;
For all beyond it is to touch the ark.
To change foundations, caft the frame anew,
Is work for rebels, who bafe ends purfue;
At once divine and human laws controul,
And mend the parts by ruin of the whole.
The tampering world is fubject to this curfe,
To phyfic their disease into a worse.
Now what relief can righteous David bring?
How fatal 'tis to be too good a king!
Friends he has few, fo high the madness grows;
Who dare be fuch must be the people's foes.
Yet fome there were, ev'n in the worst of days;
Some let me name, and naming is to praife.
In this fhort file Barzillai firft appears;
Barzillai crown'd with hor our and with years.
Long fince, the rifing rebels he withf cod
In regions wafte beyond the jordan's food:
Unfortunately brave to buoy the state;
But finking underneath his master's late;
In exile with his godlike prince he mourn'd;
For him he suffer'd, and with him return'd.
The court he practis'd, not the courtier's art:
Large was his wealth, but larger was his heart,
Which well the noblest objects knew to choose,
The fighting warrior, and recording Mufe.
His bed could once a fruitful iffee boaft;
Now more than half a father's name is loft.
His eldeft hope, with every grace adorn'd,
By me, fo heaven will have it, always mourn'd,
And always honour'd, fnatch'd in manlood's prime
E' unequal fates, and providence's crime :
Yet not before the goal of honour won,
All parts fulfill'd of fubje&t and of fon :
Swift was the race, but short the time to run.
Oh narrow circle, but of power divine,
Scanted in space, but perfect in thy line!
By fea, by land, thy matchlefs worth was known,
Arms thy delight, and war was all thy own:
Thy force infus'd the fainting Tyrians prop'd:
And haughty Pharaoh found his fortune ftop'd.
Oh ancient honour! Oh unconquer'd hand,
Whom foes unpunish'd never could withstand!
But Ifrael was unworthy of his name:
Short is the date of all immoderate fame.
It looks as heaven our ruin had defign'd,
And durft not truft thy fortune and thy mind.
Now, free from earth, thy difencumber'd foul
Mounts up, and leaves behind the clouds and starry
pole:
From thence thy kindred legions mayft thou bring,
To aid the guardian angel of thy king.
Here ftop, my Mufe, here ceafe thy painful flight:
No pinions can pursue immortal height:
Tell good Barzillai thou canst fing no more,
And tell thy foul fhe fhould have fled before:
Or fled the with his life, and left this verfe
To hang on her departed patron's hea:fe?
Now take thy fteepy flight from heaven, and fee
If thou canft find on earth another he:
Another he would be too hard to find;
See then whom thou canft fee not far behind.
Zadoc the priest, whom shunnire power and place,
His lowly mind advanc'd to David's grace.
With him the Sazan of Jerufalem,
Of hofpitable foul, and noble ftem;
Him of the western dome, whofe weighty fenfe
Flows in fit words and heavenly eloquence.
The prophets fons, by fuch example led,
To learning and to loyalty were bred:
I or colleges on bounteous kings depend,
And never rebel was to arts a friend.
To thefe fucceed the pillars of the laws;
Who beft can plead, and best can judge a cause.
Next them a train of loyal peers afcend;
Sharp-judging Adriel, the Mufes' friend,
Himfelf a Mufe: in Sanhedrims debate
True to his prince, but not a ilave of ftate;
Whom David's love with honours did adorn,
That from his disobedient fon were torn.
Jotham of piercing wit, and pregnant thought;
Endued by nature, and by learnin taught,
To move atfemblies, who but only try'd
The worfe a while, then chofe the better fide:
Nor chofe alone, but turn' the balance too:
So much the weight of one brave man can do.
Hufhai, the friend of David in diftrefs:
In public forms of manly ftedfaftnefs:
By foreign treaties he inform'd his youth,
And join'd experience to his native truth.
His frugal care fupply'd the wanting throne,
Frugal for that, but bounteous of his own:
Tis eafy conduct when exchequers how:
But hard the task to manage well the low:
For fovereign power is too deprefs'd or high,
When kings are forc'd to fell, or crowds to buy.
Indulge ore labour more, my weary Mufe,
or Amiel: who can Amiel's praise refuse?
Of ancient race by birth, but nobler yet
In his own worth, and without title great:
The Sanhedrim long time as chief he rul'd,
Their reafon guided, and their paffion cool'd:
So dextrous was he in the crown's defence,
So form'd to speak a loyal nation's fenfe,
That, as their band was Ifrael's tribes in small,
So fit was he to reprefent them all.
Now rather charioteers the feat afcend,
Whofe loofe careers his steady skill commend:
They, like th' unequal ruler of the day,
Mifruide the feasons, and miftake the way;
While he withdrawn at their mad labours fmiles,
And fafe enjoys the fabbath of his toils.
Thefe were the chief, a fmall but faithful band
Of worthies, in the breach who dar'd to stand,
And tempt th'united fury of the land,
With grief they view'd each powerful engine bent,
To batter down the lawful government.
A numerous faction, with pretended frights,
In fanhedrims to plume the regal rights;
The true fucceffor from the court remov'd;
The plot, by hireling witneffes improv'd.
Thefe ills they faw, and, as their duty bound, They fhew'd the king the danger of the wound; That no conceffions from the throne pleafe,
But lenitives fomented the disease:
That Abfalom, ambitious of the crown,
Was made the lure to draw the people down:
That falfe Achitophel's pernicious hate
Had turn'd the plot to ruin church and state:
The council violent, the rabble worse:
That Shimei taught Jerufalem to curfe.
A king's at least a part of government, And mine as requifite as their tonsent: would Without my leave a future king to chufe, Infers a right the prefent to depofe.
With all these loads of Injuries oppreft, And long revolving in his careful breaft Th' event of things, at last his patience tir'd, Thus, from his royal throne, by heaven inspir'd, The god-like David fpoke; with awful fear. His train their Maker in their mafter hear.
Thus long have I, by native mercy sway'd, My wrongs diffembled, my revenge delay'd: So willing to forgive th' offending age; So much the father did the king aifuage. But now fo far my clemency they flight, Th' offenders queftion my forgiving right, That one was made for many, they contend; But 'tis to rule; for that's a monarch's end. They call my tenderness of blood, my fear; Though manly tempers can the longest bear. Yet, fince they will divert my native course, 'Tis time to fhew I am not good by force. Thofe heap'd affronts that haughty fubjects bring, Are burdens for a camel, not a king. Kings are the public pillars of the state, Born to fuftain and prop the nation's weight: If my young Samfon will pretend a call, To shake the column, let him share the fall: But oh, that yet he would repent and live! How eafy 'tis for parents to forgive! With how few tears a pardon might be won From nature, pleading for a darling fon! Poor, pitied youth, by my paternal care, Rais'd up to all the height his frame could bear! Had God ordain'd his fate for empire born, He would have given his foul another turn: Gull'd with a patriot's name, whose modern sense Is one that would by law fupplant his prince; The people's brave, the politician's tool; Never was patriot yet, but was a fool. Whence comes it, that religion and the laws Should more be Abfalom's than David's caufe? His old inftructor, ere he loft his place, Was never thought indued with so much grace. Good heavens, how faction can a patriot paint! My rebel ever proves my people's faint. Would they impofe an heir upon the throne, Let fanhedrims be taught to give their own.
True, they petition me t' approve their choice!
But Efau's hands fuit ill with Jacob's voice.
My pious fubjects for my fafety pray;
Which to fecure, they take my power away.
From plots and treasons heaven preserve my years,
But fave me most from my petitioners.
Unfatiate as the barren womb or grave;
God cannot grant fo much as they can crave.
What then is left, but with a jealous eye
To guard the fall remains of royalty?
The law fhali ftill direct my peaceful sway,
And the fame law teach rebels to obey:
Votes fhall no more establish'd power controul,
Such votes as make a part exceed the whole.
No groundless clamours fhall my friends remove,
Nor crowds have power to punish ere they prove;
For Gods and god-like kings their care express,
Still to defend their fervants in distress.
Oh, that my power to faving were confin'd!
Why am I forc'd, like heaven, against my mind,
To make examples of another kind?
Muft I at length the fword of justice draw?
Oh curft effects of neceñary law!
How ill my fear they by my mercy scan!
Beware the fury of a patient man.
Law they require, let law then shew her face;
They could not be content to look on grace,
Her hinder parts, but with a daring eye
To tempt the terror of her front and die.
By their own arts 'tis righteously decreed,
Thofe dire artificers of death shall bleed.
Araint themfelves their witreffes fhall fwear,
Till, viper-like, their mother-plot they tear;
And fuck for nutriment that bloody gore,
Which was their principle of life before.
Their Belial with their Beelzebub will fight:
Thus on my foes, my foes thail do me right.
Nor doubt th' event: for factious crowds engage
In their firft onfet all their brutal rage.
Then let them take an unrefifted course:
Retire, and traverfe, and delude their force:
But when they ftand all breathlefs, urge the fight,
And rife upon them with redoubled might:
For lawful power is ftill fuperior found;
When long driven back, at length it stands the ground.
He faid: Th' Almighty nodding gave confent;
And peals of thunder fhook the firmament.
Henceforth a feries of new time began,
The mighty years in long proceffion ran:
Once more the god-like David was reftor'd,
And willing nations knew their lawful lord.
IN the year 1680 Mr. Dryden undertook the poem of Abfalom and Achitophel, upon the defire of king Charles the Second. The performance was applauded by every one: and feveral perfons preffing him to write a fecond part, he, upon declining it himself, fpoke to Mr. Tate to write one, and gave him his advice in the direction of it; and that part beginning with
"Next these a troop of bufy fpirits prefs," and ending with
"To talk like Doeg, and to write like thee."
containing near two hundred verses, were entirely Mr. Dryden's compofition, besides fome touches in other places.-The preceding lines, upwards of three hundred in number, were written by Mr. Tate. The poem is here printed compleat.
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Thus to his aid while preffing tides repair,
He mounts and spreads his streamers in the air.
The charms of empire might his youth mislead,
But what can our befotted Ifrael plead?
Sway'd by a monarch, whofe ferene command
Seems half the bleffing of our promis'd land.
Whofe only grievance is excefs of cafe;
Freedom our pain, and plenty our disease!
Yet as all folly would lay claim to sense,
And wickednefs ne'er wanted a pretence,
With arguments they'd make their treafon good,
And righteous David's felf with flanders load:
That arts of foreign fway he did affect,
And guilty Jebufites from law protect,
Whofe very chiefs, convict, were never freed,
Nay we have feen their facrificers bleed !
Accufers' infamy is urg'd in vain,
While in the bounds of fenfe they did contain,
But foon they launch'd into th' unfathom'd tide,
And in the depths they knew difdain'd to ride.
For probable difcoveries to difpenfe,
Was thought below a penfion'd evidence;
Mere truth was dull, nor fuited with the port
Of pamper'd Corah when advanc'd to eburt.
INCE men like beafts each other's prey were
made,
Since trade began, and priesthood grew a trade,
Since realms were form'd, none fure fo curft as thofe
That madly their own happiness oppose;
There heaven itfelf, and god-like kings, in vain
Shower down the manna of a gentle reign;
While pamper'd crowds to mad fedition run,
And monarchs by indulgence are undone.
Thus David's clemency was fatal grown,
While wealthy faction aw'd the wanting throne.
For now their fovereign's orders to contemn
Was held the charter of Jerufalem,
His rights t' invade, his tributes to refuse,
A privilege peculiar to the Jews;
As if from heavenly call this licence fell,
And Jacob's feed were chosen to rebel!
Achitophel with triumph fees his crimes
Thus fuited to the madness of the times;
And Abfalom, to make his hopes fucceed,
Of flattering charms no longer ftands in need;
While, fond of change, though ne'er fo dearly bought,
Our tribes outstrip the youth's ambitious thought;
His fwifteft hopes with fwifter homage meet,
And crowd their fervile necks beneath his feet.
No less than wonders now they will impofe
And projects void o. grace or fenfe difclofe.
Such was the charge on pious Michal brought,
Michal that ne'er was cruel ev`n in thought,
The best of queens, and moft obedient wife,
Impeach'd of curft defigns on David's life!
His life, the theme of her eternal prayer,
Tis fcarce fo much his guardian angel's care.
Not fummer morns fuch mildness can difciofe,
The Hermon lily, nor the Sharon rose.
Neglecting each vain pomp of majesty,
Tranfported Michal feeds her thoughts on high.
She lives with angels, and, as angels do,
Quits heaven fometimes to blefs the world below.
Where, cherish'd by her bounty's plenteous fpring,
Reviving widows fmile, and orphans fing.
Oh! when Rebellious Ifrael's crimes at height,
Are threaten'd with her Lord's approaching fate,
The piety of Michal then remain
In heaven's remembrance, and prolong his reign!
Lefs defolation did the peft pursue,
That from Dan's limits to Beersheba flew,
Lefs fatal the repeated wars of Tyre,
And lefs Jerufalem's avenging fire.
With gentler terror these our state o'er-ran,
Than fince our evidencing days began!
On every cheek a pale confufion fat,
Continued fear beyond the worst of fate!
Truft was no more, art, filence, ufelefs made,
All occupations loft but Corah's trade.
Mean while a guard on modeft Corah wait,
If not for fafety, needful yet for ftate.
Well might he deem each peer and prince his slave,
And lord it o'er the tribes which he could fave:
Ev'n vice in him was virtue-what fad fate
But for his honefty had feiz'd our state!
And with that tyranny had we been curst,
Had Corah never prov'd a villain first!
The more judicious Ifraelites unfpell'd,
Though fill the charm the giddy rabble held,
Ev'n Abfalom amidst the dazzling beams
Of empire, and ambition's flattering dreams,
Perceives the plot too foul to be excus'd,
To aid defigns, no lefs pernicious, us'd,
And, filial fenfe yet striving in his breast,
Thus to Achitophel his doubts exprest.
Why are my thoughts upon a crown employ'd,
Which once obtain’d, can be but half enjoy'd?
Not fo when virtue did my arms require,
And to my father's wars I flew intire.
My regal power how will my foes refent,
When I myfelf have fcarce my own confent!
Give me a fon's unblemish'd truth again,
Or quench the fparks of duty that remain.
How flight to force a throne that legions guard
The talk to me; to prove unjust, how hard!
And if th' imagin'd guilt thus wound my thought,
What will it when the tragic fcene is wrought?
Dire war muft first be conjur'd from below,
The realm we'd rule we first must overthrow:
And when the civil furies are on wing
That blind and undistinguish'd slaughters fling,
Who knows what impious chance may reach the
king?
Oh! rather let me perifh in the strife,
Than have my crown the price of David's life?
Or, if the tempeft of the war he stand,
in peace, fome vile officious villain's hand
His foul's anointed temple may invade,
Or, preft by clamorous crowds, myself be made
His murtherer; rebellious crowds, whofe guilt
Shall dread his vengcarce till his blood be spilt.
Which if my filial tenderness oppofe,
Since to the empire by their arms I rose,
Thofe very arms on me shall be employ'd,
A new ufurper crown'd; and I deftroy'd;
And new Achitophels be found as bold
To urge the needful change, perhaps the old.
He faid. The statesman with a smile replies,
A fmile that did his rifing fpleen difguife,
My thoughts presum'd our labours at an end,
And are we still with confcience to contend?
Whofe want in kings, as needful is allow'd,
As 'tis for them to find it in the crowd.
Far in the doubtful paffage you are gone,
And only can be fafe by preffing on.
T' have told his knowledge of th' intrigue in grofs, The fame pretence of public good will hold,
Had been, alas, to our deporent's lofs:
The travel'd Levite had th' experience got,
To husband well, and make the heft of 's plot;
And therefore, like an evidence of skill
With wife referves fecur'd his penfion ftill;
Not quite of future power himself bereft,
But limbo's large for unbelievers left.
And now his writ fuch reverence had got,
'Twas worse than plotting to fufpect his plot.
Some were fo well convinc'd, they made no doubt
Themfelves to help the founder'd fwearers out.
Some had their fenfe impos'd on by their fear,
But more for interest fake believe and fwear:
Ev'n to that height with fome the frenzy grew,
They rag'd to find their danger rot prove true.
Yet than all thefe a viler crew remain,
Who with Achitophel the cry maintain;
Not urg'd by fear, nor through mifguided sense,
Blind zeal and ftarving need had some pretence,
But for the good old caufe that did excite
Th' original rebels wiles, revenge, and fpight.
Thefe raife the plot to have the fcandal thrown
Upon the bright fucceffor of the crown,
Whofe virtue with fuch wrongs they had pursued,
As feem'd all hope of parcon to exclude.
Thus while on private ends their zeal is built,
The cheated crowd applaud and share their guilt.
Su.h practices as thefe, too grofs to lie
Long unobferv'd by each difcetring eye,
The crown's true heir, a prince fevere and wife,
Has view'd your mctions long with jealous eyes:
Your perfon's charms, your more prevailing arts,
And mark'd your progress in te people's hearts,
Whofe patience is th' effect of ftinted power,
But treafures vengeance for the fatal hour,
And if remote the peril he can bring,
Your prefent danger 's greater from the king.
Let not a parent's name deceive your sense,
Nor truft the father in a jealous prince!
Your trivial faults if he could fo refent,
To doom you little lefs than banishment,
What rage must your prefumption fince infpire!
Against his orders you return from Tyre.
Nor only fo, but with a pomp more high,
And open court of popularity,
The factious tribes.-and this reproof from thee?
The prince replies, O ftatefman's winding skill!
They firft condemn, that first advis'd the ill!
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