infinite care and pains about him, and daily told him what would be the end of him, if he would not lay aside his London tricks, and become a downright, honest Oxford bargeman; but all in vain, what was bred in the bone would never be out of the flesh he fell, by little and little, to downright thieving, and hanged he was in the end; and, as my father afterwards learned, the rogue's father and grandfather, and many of his kindred, had been thieves before him.

Will. What's all this to the purpose, what have either we or the parliament to do with thy father or his thievish prentice? He was not the first bargeman by a hundred, that have been hanged.

Sam. Well said, Will, here's a precious story indeed, and nothing to the purpose.

Tom. You do not know the meaning, I perceive, of a parable, or an Æsop's Fable; when ye have taught these shavers at London, with your rehearsals*, and at Westminster with their votes, resolves, and stories, to nose their master, and abuse their fellows, then you send them down to Oxford, to be cured of the r when it is too late. They are no more to be reclaimed than a sheep-worrier; nor will any thing cure them, but that which cured my father's prentice: now there's the precious story you talked of so much. And yet, for all this, you cannot dash us in the teeth with any Oxford acts of parliament. Had their noses been kept to the grindle-stone as close at Westminster, as it was at Oxford, they would not have been so high in the in-step. I was sure, if they sat at Oxford, they must either make good acts, or none at all. Sam. A will have it but one way or other; these Oxford rogues learn to wrangle of the boys, and will never yield, right or wrong.

Will. Well, but for all his bragging, there was that done at this parliament at Oxford, was never done at Westminster.

Tom. Pray thee, what was that?

Will. There was as near a lye, not to be the downright lye, given to the king, as heart could think.

Sam. How so, man?

Will. I will tell thee. For example's sake, if I should say, it is an unwarrantable thing for any man to pull down Windsor great park pail, and ride through to Bagshot market; if thou sayest this is a warrantable trick, though all the world knew the contrary, dost not thee come very near to give me the lye, what thinkest thou by this?

Sam. Surely he, that did this, had his breeding at Billingsgate, or at Hog-Norton.

Tom. But, if he had a foul tongue, he had a good pair of heels, for he gave ground a hundred miles in a very few hours.

Will. That was but to be out of the way, while the thing was hot, it will quickly be forgot. I'll warrant thee, once in a short time, I shall see this very man come in his coach to Westminster-Hall, with a quoif on, if not a red gown. Such mannerly behaviour, as this, has been an only way to preferment.

Tom. But, I think, he better deserves to go up Holbourn in a wooden chariot, and have a horse night-cap put on at the farther end.

• See before, p. 490.

Will. These kind of people do no more matter what they say, than a dog does that has stolen a joint of meat from the hook; they only run away for a while, and when they think all is quiet, and forgotten, then they come again with as much confidence, as if they had never done no mischief at all.

Sam. The reason of this is, because they never light of the whip for their roguery; and so escaping scot-free makes them so bold.

Will. Ay, ay, let a man suffer a prentice to prate and talk, and, the next, he gives you two words for one; and then, if you offer to correct him, have at your ears. Black Tom, of Lambeth, that was an honest, good fellow, as ever took an oar by the end, suffered his prentice so long, that, when he would have corrected him, it was too late; and, being a lusty, young rogue, he threw him over-board into the Thames; and, had not I come by, by chance, he had been drowned. Tom. Nay, nothing madded me so much, as that the house of com. mons praised this fellow, and ordered him thanks for his compliment he made.

Will. O brave Oxford still; for, at Westminster, they always used to have so much good manners, as to give his majesty thanks for his speech, whether it pleased them, or not; and now they thank a man that gives him the lye.

Sam. But pray, my masters, what did they do that little time they sat; or, at least-wise, what would they have done?

Tom. I will tell thee, thou sayest, the parson told thee of a parlia. ment once at Oxford, was called the mad-parliament; I think, this may be called the foolish and k-vish parliament: they were in hand to make such a king of the duke, if he should have survived his brother, as thou never heardest of in thy life.

Will. A king? why, the Portingals King, that they keep a close prisoner, in an old castle, at the rock of Lisbon, is an emperor, in com. parison of that they would have made him+: a must have had the name of a king, but none of the power; nor have lived in any of his domi. nions, or within 500 miles. Would not this have been a brave kingt? Sam. Pray thee tell me what have they to do with Scotland ?

Tom. With Scotland? O, they make a good title to Scotland}; for Oliver conquered it for the rump, and, these being the rump's heirs, they think Scotland belongs to them as well as England; for, as sure as thou stands there, they keep the commonwealth's title a foot in their minds, though they dare not publickly own it.

Sam. How should that be?

Tom. I will tell thee, if I have a crown in my pocket, and thou hast a mind to have it from me, there is but three ways to get it, either by sleight of hand to pick it from me, or by words to persuade me out of it, or take it from me by a strong hand. Now the first and last not being so convenient nor easy; if thou canst use words to make me give it thee, is not that the best way?

Don Alphonso, deposed by his brother Peter the Second, who was not content to seize the crown and imprison his brother; but obtained a dispensation of the pope, to marry his brother's wife also. † The Duke of York.

These were some of the expedients proposed instead of the bill of exclusion; which expedients the duke's friends opposed with greater vehemency than the bill of exclusion.

Will. No doubt of it.

Tom. Then words have prevailed a great way, and will possibly be attempted farther; but, if those will not do, thou knowest what follows next; besides, it is apparent, they aimed now to make a push for a commonwealth; for they affronted the king, in the first place, as I have told you; then, in the next place, they voted the lords denial to try Fitz-Harris was a denial of justice, and hinderance of discovering of the popish plot, and twenty stories more they called it; which was as much as to say, they were not fit to sit in that house; for, if they were unjust in their doings, and countenanced the popish plot, what worse could have been said of them? And if this had taken, at the next vote they had been useless, and then welcome the rump again; they would only have wanted him that was headed at the Tower-hill twenty years ago, what did you call him?

Will. I believe thou meanest Sir Harry Vaint.

Tom. Ay, ay, that was he, if he had been alive to have joined with the purblind lord, and the colonel with cut fingers, and a few more, all had been right.

Sam. Pray thee, Tom, what would they have done with this Fitz. Harris, what is that fellow?

Tom. I think nobody knows what he ist; but I take him to be a crossbiters; but if he chance to be hanged, as he is like to be, it is doubtful he will be cross-bitten himself.

Sam. Why the parliament were bloody mad at him, and would needs have hanged him themselves.

Tom. O Sam, thou knowest not parliament-craft, the next way home sometimes is the farthest about. If they could have gotten the lords to have received the impeachment against him, they would have kept him alive, and played more tricks than thou canst imagine; they would have made him bowl off and on, as thou dost at nine pins, and made his evidence good and right in what they had a mind; and arrant lyes in what they liked not. And he had been as far from hanging by their means, as the lords in the Tower; only they would possibly have found law to have bailed him; which could not be found for the treasurer Danby, whom they know they have no power to hang, unless they do with him, as with the old Earl of Strafford.

Will. But, for all their cunning, he may yet come to be hanged;

This Fitz-Harris was employed by the court to write a seditious pamphlet, which, being privately printed, was to be sent by penny-post to the protestant lords, &c. which opposed the court; and then their houses were to be immediately searched, and, where these pamphlets could be found, they were to be made the foundation of a plot against the government. This scheme was communicated to one Everard, and by him discovered to Sir William Waller, who informed the king of it, who ordered Fitz-Harris to be taken into custody, but declared his resentment at Sir William, saying, "That he had broken all his measures. Therefore the house of commons resolved to examine and try the Irish Priest, Fitz-Harris, at their own bar, hoping to make a full discovery of so wicked a design, and to bring the contrivers thereof to condign punishment. But the court influenced the lords to reject the impeachment of Fitz-Harris by the commons, and to order him to be prosecuted at common law, where the court had power to prevent any material discoveries; and immediately to sacrifice the man, who had so imprudently divulged the secret intrusted to him.

tal. Vane.

He was an Irish papist who had free access to the Duchess of Portsmouth, and kept a correspondence with her favourite woman, Mrs. Wall, and with the French ambassador's confessor.

viz. A trapanner.

Make a law on purpose.

and if he be, stand clear, I believe there will be stories told, some will not be willing to hear.

Sam. Before my heart, you two are gotten very cunning at state affairs, I believe you did nothing but listen and hearken after news.

Tom. If the parliament had sat at our town a twelvemonth, I would not have wrought in my barge an hour; but, if ever a parliament deserved a by-name, this little short-arsed one deserved that I have given it, both for meddling with what they did so simply, and meddling with those people and places out of their power.

Sam. Well, but now this parliament is dissolved, all this is over, and now they have neither power to vote, nor act, nor nothing; and I hope we shall have quietness, and the court at Windsor.

Tom. It is true, they are unroosted from their publick sitting-places, both at Westminster and Oxford; but the men that shape out all the work are not idle; that will appear before long in the Common Hall of London, and from other places where they have power to set mischief on foot.

Tom. I remember Gaffer Tompson of Abington had a dozen men and boys that laboured his barge; and, to his cost, he found they were all plotted together to rob, steal, and to do him any mischief they could: nay, would almost tell him to his face, they would have what they list. He was a quiet honest man, and loved not trouble, and hoped, in vain, for amendment a long time; but at last he took a resolu. tion and turned them all off at once, and got a new floor-full, that knew nothing of the roguery of the other crew; and then all things went well with him.

Will. He was in the right of that; for, if he had left any of the old ones in the barge, they would have corrupted all the rest.

Tom. Dost not think, there are some old rumpers has done a great hurt amongst the members?

Will. I am for a new floor full or none at all; there is no hopes of any good from Tompson's old crew.

Tom. Gaffer Tompson has a special care, not only to keep his new men from companying with the old ones at London and at Abington; but also, that they should not come and rob him by a strong hand.

for

Will. They durst hardly do that; for then it had come to hangum tuum. However, it was wisdom in him to have an eye to them, they met often together to consult which way to be revenged of him; and however he knew the laws of the land would protect him, which must protect every body.

Sam. I pray God bless his majesty, and give him power to put his laws in execution; and then, I think, none but his enemies will have occasion to repine; and let the disbanded reformadoes do what they dare. Amen.

* Because it sat but seven days.

THE

CHARACTER OF A DISBANDED COURTIER,

Ingenium Galba male habitat.

From a Folio Edition, printed at London, Anno Dom. 1681.

HE

E was born with an aspiring mind, by much too high flown, for his quality and his estate. His dexterity, in doing ill, made him thought capable of performing admirably well, if ever he came to be employed and entrusted. He was preferred, for ability, to high degrees of honour and office, admitted into the cabinet councils, made acquainted with all the secret wheels (and could tell how many cogs there were in each wheel) upon which the great engine of state was turned, and kept in motion. By the favour of his prince, he acquired sufficient riches to support the splendor of a new-raised family.

His glory was so eminently conspicuous, that there were but few persons below the crown seemed above him: And nothing was wanting to render his felicity as lasting as nature intended his life, but a heart that knew how to be grateful to a most munificent benefactor. Hé thought all the favours and honours he enjoyed were less than the reward of his merit: That thought puffed him with pride; such a sort of pride, as is commonly attended with an irrecoverable fall, (which was his fortune :) and, at his fall (like that of his predecessor) might very well have been proclaimed: "Woe to you, the inhabitants of the earth, for the devil is come down among you.'

Open revenge against his sovereign, being too dangerous to attempt, he presently resolves upon secret. He exposes all the weaknesses and infirmities of the court (from which no court is free) and where he can find no real faults, he feigns imaginary ones, and passes them off for current. By this new and false optick, he represents every molehill of mistake, in the publick administration, for a mountain as tall as Teneriff, and as dangerous as the top of Etna. Nay, he multiplies and magnifies the very miscarriages, which were the effect of his own evil counsel. He amuses the freest nation in the universe, with wild rumours, and extravagant apprehensions of slavery; under the government of a prince, who, in acts of favour, mercy, and clemency, has exceeded all his predecessors. He fills the heads of the people full with whimsical fears of fantastick devils (chimeras which only his malice had raised) on purpose to frighten them out of their loyalty and their wits, and prepare and ripen them for bedlam, or for rebellion. He