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Th' accurs'd Philistian, rous'd with this bold | To kingly power, in all that plenteous land,


All the proud marks of enrag'd power does show ;
Raises a vast, well-arm'd, and glittering host:
If human strength might authorize a boast,
Their threats had reason here; for ne'er did we
Ourselves so weak, or foe so potent, see.
Here we vast bodies of their foot espy,
The rear out-reaches far th' extended eye;
Like fields of corn their armed squadrons stand;
As thick and numberless they hide the land.
Here with sharp neighs the warlike horses sound,
And with proud prancings beat the putrid ground;
Here with worse noise three thousand chariots

With plates of iron bound, or louder brass;
About it forks, axes, and scythes, and spears,
Whole magazines of death each chariot bears;
Where it breaks in, there a whole troop it mows,
And with lopp'd panting limbs the field be-


Alike, the valiant and the cowards die;
Neither can they resist, nor can these fly.
In this proud equipage, at Macmas they,
Saul in much different state at Gilgal, lay;
His forces seem'd no army, but a crowd,
Heartless, unarm'd, disorderly, and loud.

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Where all things else submit to his command.
And, as fair Eden's violated tree
Timmortal man brought in mortality:

So shall that crown, which God eternal meant,
From thee,'said he, 'and thy great house he rent;
Thy crime shall death to all thine honours send,
And give thy immortal royalty an end.
Thus spoke the prophet; but kind Heaven, we

(Whose threats and anger know no other scope,
But man's amendment) does long since relent,
And, with repentant Saul, itself repent.
Howe'er (though none more pray for this than we,
Whose wrongs and sufferings might some colour be
To do it less) this speech we sadly find
Still extant, and still active in his mind;
But then a worse effect of it appear'd-
Our army, which before modestly fear'd,
Which did by stealth and by degrees decay,
Disbanded now, and fled in troops away:
Base fear so bold and impudent does grow,
When an excuse and colour it can show!
Six hundred only (scarce a princely train)
Of all his host with distress'd Saul remain;
Of his whole host six hundred; and ev'n those
(So did wise Heaven for mighty ends dispose!

In that great gift it did for one prepare)
Arm'd not like soldiers marching in a war,
But country-hinds alarmed from afar

By wolves' loud hunger, when the well-known

Raises th' affrighted villages around.
Some goads, flails, plow-shares, forks, or axes,

The quick contagion, Fear, ran swift through all, Nor would that useless multitudes should share
And into trembling fits the infected fall,
Saul and his son (for no such faint disease
Could on their strong complexion'd valour seize)
In vain all parts of virtuous conduct show'd,
And on deaf Terrour generous words bestow'd :
Thousands from thence fly scatter'd every day,
Thick as the leaves that shake and drop away,
When they th' approach of stormy winter find,
The noble tree all bare expos'd to th' wind.
Some to sad Jordan fly, and swim 't for haste,
And from his farther bank look back at last :
Some into woods and caves their cattle drive;
There with their beasts on equal terms they live,
Nor deserve better: some in rocks on high,
The old retreats of storks and ravens, lie;
And, were they wing'd like them, scarce would
they dare

To stay, or trust their frighted safety there.
As th' host with fear, so Saul disturb'd with care,
T'avert these ills by sacrifice and prayer,
And God's blest will t' inquire, for Samuel sends;
Whom he six days with troubled haste attends;
But, ere the seventh unlucky day (the last
By Samuel set for this great work) was past,
Saul (alarm'd hourly from the neighbouring foe;
Impatient, ere God's time, God's mind to know;
Sham'd and enrag'd to see his troops decay;
Jealous of an affront in Samuel's stay;
Scorning that any's presence should appear
Needful besides, when he himself was there;
And, with a pride too natural, thinking Heaven
Had given him all, because much power 't had

Himself the sacrifice and offerings made;

Himself did the high selected charge invade :
Himself inquir'd of God; who then spake nought;
But Samuel straight his dreadful answer brought:
For straight he came, and, with a virtue bold
As was Saul's sin, the fatal message told;
His foul ingratitude to Heaven he chid,
To pluck that fruit, which was alone forbid

Made for life's use and better ends before;
Some knotted clubs, and darts, or arrows dry'd
I' th' fire, the first rude arts that Malice try'd
Ere man the sins of too much knowledge knew,
And Death by long experience witty grew.
Such were the numbers, such the arms, which we
Had by Fate left us for a victory
O'er well-arm'd millions; nor will this appear
Useful itself when Jonathan was there.

"'Twas just the time when the new ebb of night
Did the moist world unvail to human sight;
The prince, who all that night the field had beat
With a small party and no enemy met,
(So proud and so secure the enemy lay,
And drench'd in sleep th' excesses of the day!)
With joy this good occasion did embrace,
With better leisure, and at nearer space,
The strength and order of their camp to view:
Abdon alone his generous purpose knew ;
Abdon, a bold, a brave, and comely youth,
Well-born, well-bred, with honour fill'd and

Abdon, his faithful squire, whom much he lov'd,
And oft with grief his worth in dangers prov'd;
Abdon, whose love t' his master did exceed
What Nature's law, or Passion's power, could
Abdon alone did on him now attend, [breed;
His humblest servant, and his dearest friend.
They went, but sacred fury, as they went,
Chang'd swiftly, and exalted his intent.
"What may this be!' (the Prince breaks forth)

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God, or some powerful spirit, invades my mind.

From aught but Heaven can never sure be brought | Elcanor laugh'd to see them climb, and thought
So high, so glorious, and so vast a thought; His mighty words th' affrighted suppliants
Nor would Ill fate, that meant me to surprise,
Come cloth'd in so unlikely a disguise.

Yon host, which its proud fishes spreads so wide
O'er the whole land, like some swoln river's tide;
Which terrible and numberless appears,

As the thick waves which their rough ocean bears;
Which lies so strongly encamped, that one would

The hill might be remov'd as soon as they ;
We two alone must fight with and defeat:
Thou 'rt strook, and startest at a sound so great!
Yet we must do 't; God our weak hands has


Did new affronts to the great Hebrew Name,
(The barbarous !) in his wanton fancy frame.
Short was his sport; for, swift as thunder's stroke
Rives the frail trunk of some heaven-threatening

The prince's sword did his proud head divide;
The parted skull hung down on either side.
Just as he fell, his vengeful steel he drew
Half-way, (no more the trembling joints could

Which Abdon snatch'd, and dy'd it in the blood
Of an amazed wretch that next him stood,
Some close to earth, shaking and groveling, lie,
Like larks when they the tyrant hobby spy;
Some, wonder-strook, stand fix'd; some fly; some
Wildly, at th' unintelligible alarm.
Like the main channel of an high-swoln flood,
In vain by dikes and broken words withstood;
So Jonathan, once climb'd th' opposing hill,
Does all around with noise and ruin fill:
Like some large arm of which, another way
Abdon o'erflows; him too no bank can stay,
With cries th' affrighted country flies before,
Behind the following waters loudly roar,
Twenty, at least, slain on this outguard lie,
To th' adjoin'd camp, the rest distracted fly;
And ill-mix'd wonders tell, and into 't bear
Blind Terror, deaf Disorder, helpless Fear.
The conquerors too press boldly in behind,
Doubling the wild confusions which they find,
Hamgar át first, the prince of Ashdod town,
in-Chief 'mongst the five in riches and renown,

T' ashame the boasted numbers of our foes;
Which to his strength no more proportion be,
Than millions are of hours to his eternity.
If, when their careless guards espy us here,
With sportful scorn they call t' us to come near,
We 'Il boldly climb the hill, and charge them all;
Not they, but Israel's angel, gives the call.'
He spoke, and as he spoke, a light divine
Did from his eyes, and round his temples, shine;
Louder his voice, larger his limbs, appear'd;
Less seem'd the numerous army to be fear'd.
This saw, and heard with joy, the brave esquire,
As he with God's, fill'd with his master's fire:
"Forbid it, Heaven,' said he, 'I should decline,
Or wish, sir, not to make your danger mine;
The great example which I daily see
Of your high worth is not so lost on me ;
If wonder-strook I at your words appear,
My wonder yet is innocent of fear:

Th' honour which does your princely breast

Warms mine too, and joins there with duty's


If in this act Ill fate our tempter be,
May all the ill it means be aim'd at me!

But sure, I think, God leads; nor could you

So high thoughts from a less-exalted spring.
Bright signs through all your words and looks are

A rising victory dawns around your head.'
With such discourse blowing their sacred flame,
Lo, to the fatal place, and work they came.

"Strongly encamp'd on a steep hill's large head,
Like some vast wood the mighty host was spread;
Th' only access on neighbouring Gabaa's side,
An hard and narrow way, which did divide
Two cliffy rocks, Boses and Senes nam'd,
Much for themselves, and their big strange-
ness fam'd;

More for their fortune and this stranger day.
On both their points Philistian-out guards lay,
From whence the two bold spies they first espy'd;
And, lo! the Hebrews! proud Eleanor cry'd,
From Senes' top; lo! from their hungry caves,
A quicker fate here sends them to their graves.
Come up' (aloud he cries to them below)
'Ye Egyptian slaves, and to our mercy owe
The rebel-lives long since t' our justice due.'
Scarce from his lips the fatal omen flew,
When th' inspir'd prince did nimbly understand
God, and his God-like virtues' high command.
It call'd him up, and up the steep ascent

And general then by course, oppos'd their way,
Till drown'd in death at Jonathan's feet he lay,
And curs'd the heavens for rage, and bit the

His life, for ever spilt, stain'd all the grass

His brother too, who virtuous haste did make
His fortune to revenge, or to partake,

Falls groveling o'er his trunk, on mother Earth;
Death mix'd no less their bloods than did their

Meanwhile the well-pleased Abdon's restless

Dispatch'd the following train t' attend their lord.
On still, o'er panting corpse, great Jonathan led;
Hundreds before him fell, and thousands fled.
Prodigious prince! which does most wondrous

Thy attempt, or thy success? thy fate or thou?
Who durst alone that dreadful host assail,
With purpose not to die, but to prevail !
Infinite numbers thee no more affright,
Than God, whose unity is infinite.

If Heaven to men such mighty thoughts would

What breast but thine capacious to receive
The vast infusion? or what soul but thine
Durst have believ'd that thought to be divine?
Thou follow'dst Heaven in the design, and we
Find in the act 'twas Heaven that follow'd thee.
Thou led'st on angels, and that sacred band
(The Deity's great lieutenant!) didst command,
'Tis true, sir, and no figure, when I say

With pain, and labour, haste and joy, they went. Angels themselves fought under him that day,

Clouds, with ripe thunder charg'd, some thither At the glad noise; joy'd that their foes had shown


And some the dire materials brought for new. Hot drops of southern showers (the sweats of death) [breath; The voice of storms, and winged whirlwinds' The flames shot forth from fighting dragons' eyes;

The smokes that from scorch'd fevers' ovens rise; The reddest fires with which sad comets grow; And Sodom's neighbouring lake, did spirits be


Of finest sulphur; amongst which they put
Wrath, fury, horrour, and all mingled shut
Into a cold moist cloud, t' inflame it more,
And make the enraged prisoner louder roar.
Th' assembled clouds burst o'er their army's
Noise, darkness, dismal lightnings, round them
Another spirit, with a more potent wand
Than that which Nature fear'd in Moses' hand,
And went the way that pleas'd, the mountain

The mountain felt it; the vast mountain shook.
Through the wide air another angel flew
About their host, and thick amongst them threw
Discord, despair, confusion, fear, mistake,
And all th' ingredients that swift ruin make.
The fertile glebe requires no time to breed;
It quickens, and receives at once the seed.
One would have thought, this dismal day t' have

That Nature's self in her death-pangs had been.
Such will the face of that great hour appear;
Such the distracted sinner's conscious fear.
In vain some few strive the wild flight to stay;
In vain they threaten, and in vain they pray;
Unheard, unheeded, trodden down, they lie,
Beneath the wretched feet of crowds that fly.
Q'er their own foot trampled the violent horse;
The guideless chariots with impetuous course
Cut wide through both; and, all their bloody


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A fear that drowns the scandal of their own.
Still did the prince 'midst all this storm appear,
Still scatter'd death and terrours every where;
Still did he break, still blunt, his wearied swords;
Still slaughter new supplies t' his hand affords.
Where troops yet stood, there still he hotly flew,
And, till at last all fled, scorn'd to pursue.
All fled at last, but many in vain; for still
Th' insatiate conqueror was more swift to kill
Than they to save their lives. Till, lo! at last,
Nature, whose power he had so long surpass'd,
Would yield no more, but to him stronger foes,
Drought, faintness, and fierce hunger, did oppose,
Reeking all o'er in dust, and blood, and sweat,
Burnt with the Sun's and violent action's heat,
'Gainst an old oak his trembling limbs he staid,
For some short ease; Fate in the old oak had

Provisions up for his relief; and lo!
The hollow trunk did with bright honey flow.
With timely food his decay'd spirits recruit,
Strong he returns, and fresh, to the pursuit;
His strength and spirits the honey did restore;
But, oh! the bitter-sweet strange poison bore!
Behold, sir, and mark well the treacherous fate,
That does so close on human glories wait!
Behold the strong, and yet fantastic net,
T'ensnare triumphant Virtue darkly set!
Could it before (scarce can it since) be thought,
The prince-who had alone that morning fought
A duel with an host, had th' host o'erthrown,
And threescore thousand hands disarm'd with


Wash'd-off his country's shame, and doubly dy'd
In blood and blushes the Philistian pride;

Had sav'd and fix'd his father's tottering crown,
And the bright gold new burnish'd with renown,—
Should be ere night, by 's king and father's

Without a fault, vow'd and condemn'd to death?
Destin'd the bloody sacrifice to be

Of thanks, himself, for his own victory?
Horses and men, torn, bruis'd, and mangled, lay. Alone, with various fate, like to become,
Some from the rocks cast themselves down head-Fighting, an host; dying, au hecatomb?


The faint, weak passion grows so bold and strong!
To almost certain present death they fly,
From a remote and causeless fear to die.
Much different errour did some troops possess ;
And madness, that look'd better, though no less :
Their fellow-troops for th' enter'd foe they take;
And Israel's war with mutual slaughter make.
Meanwhile the king from Gabaa's hill did view,
And hear, the thickening tumult, as it grew
Still great and loud; and, though he knows not

They fled, no more than they themselves that fly.
Yet, by the storms and terrours of the air,
Guesses some vengeful spirit's working there;
Obeys the loud occasion's sacred call,
And fiercely on the trembling host does fall.
At the same time their slaves and prisoners rise;
Nor does their much-wish'd liberty suffice
Without revenge; the scatter'd arms they seize,
And their proud vengeance with the memory

Of who so lately bore them. All about,
From rocks and caves, the Hebrews issue out

Yet such, sir, was his case;

For Saul, who fear'd lest the full plenty might
(In the abandon'd camp expos'd to fight)
His hungry men from the pursuit dissuade,
A rash, but solemn vow to Heaven had made-
'Curs'd be the wretch, thrice cursed let him be,
Who shall touch food this busy day,' said he,
'Whilst the blest Sun does with his favouring light
Assist our vengeful swords against their flight:
Be he thrice curst! and, if his life we spare,
On us those curses fail that he should bear!'
Such was the king's rash vow; who little thought
How near to him Fate th' application brought.
The two-edged oath wounds deep, perform'd or


Ev'n perjury its least and bluntest stroke.
'Twas his own son, whom God and mankind lov'd,
His own victorious son, that he devov'd,
On whose bright head the baleful curses light:
But Providence, his helmet in the fight,
Forbids their entrance or their settling there;
They with brute sound dissolv'd into the air.
Him what religion, or what vow, could bind,
Unknown, unheard-of, till he his life did find

Entangled in 't? whilst wonders he did do,
Must he die now for not being prophet too?
To all but him this oath was meant and said ;.
He, afar off, the ends for which 'twas made
Was acting then, till, faint and out of breath,
He grew half-dead with toil of giving death.
What could his crime in this condition be,
Excus'd by ignorance and necessity?

Yet the remorseless king-who did disdain
That man should hear him swear or threat in vain,
Though 'gainst himself; or Fate a way should see
By which attack'd and conquer'd he might be ;
Who thought compassion female weakness here,
And equity injustice would appear

In his own cause; who falsely fear'd, beside,
The solemn curse on Jonathan did abide,
And, the infected limb not cut away,
Would like a gangrene o'er all Israel stray -
Prepar'd this god-like sacrifice to kill,
And his rash vow more rashly to fulfil.
What tongue can th' horrour and amazement tell
Which on all Israel that sad moment fell!
Tamer had been their grief, fewer their tears,
Had the Philistian fate that day been theirs.
Not Saul's proud heart could master his swoln

The prince alone stood mild and patient by;

So bright his sufferings, so triumphant show'd,
Less to the best than worst of fates he ow'd.
A victory now he o'er himself might boast;
He conquer'd now that conqueror of an host.
It charm'd though tears the sad spectator's

Did reverence, love, and gratitude, excite,
And pious rage; with which inspir'd, they now
Oppose to Saul's a better public vow.
They all consent all Israel ought to be
Accurs'd and kill'd themselves, rather than he.
Thus with kind force they the glad king with-

And sav'd their wondrous saviour's sacred blood!"

Thus David spoke; and much did yet remain Behind, th' attentive prince to entertain; Edom and Zoba's war-for what befel

In that of Moab, was known there too well:
The boundless quarrel with curs'd Amalek's

Where Heaven itself did cruelty command,
And practis'd on Saul's mercy, nor did ere
More punish innocent blood, than pity there.
But lo! they arriv'd now at th' appointed place;
Well-chosen and well-furnish'd for the chase.







Ir was the funeral day of the late man who made himself to be called protector. And though I bore but little affection, either to the memory of him, or to the trouble and folly of all public pageantry, yet I was forced by the importunity of my company to go along with them, and be a spectator of that solemnity, the expectation of which had been so great, that it was said to have brought |

some very curious persons (and no doubt singular virtuosos) as far as from the Mount in Cornwall, and from the Orcades. I found there had been much more cost bestowed, than either the dead man, or indeed death itself, could deserve. There was a mighty train of black assistants, among which, too, divers princes in the persons of their ambassadors (being infinitely afflicted for the loss of their brother) were pleased to attend ; the hearse was magnificent, the idol crowned, and (not to mention all other ceremonies which are practised at royal interments, and

When upon Earth no kingdom could have shown
A happier monarch to us, than our own:
And yet his subjects by him were
(Which is a truth will hardly be
Receiv'd by any vulgar ear,


Thou dost a chaos, and confusion, now,
A Babel, and a Bedlam, grow,
And like a frantic person, thou dost tear [wear,
The ornaments and clothes which thou should'st
And cut thy limbs; and, if we

therefore by no means could be omitted here) the vast multitude of spectators made up, as it uses to do, no small part of the spectacle itself. But yet, I know not how, the whole was so managed, that, methought, it somewhat represented the life of him for whom it was made; much noise, much | A secret known to few) made happier ev'n than tumult, much expense, much magnificence, much vainglory; briefly, a great show, and yet, after all this, but an ill sight. At last (for it seemed long to me, and like his short reign too, very tedious) the whole scene passed by; and I retired back to my chamber, weary, and I think more melancholy than any of the mourners; where I began to reflect on the whole life ofthis prodigious man: and sometimes I was filled with horrour and detestation of his actions, and sometimes I inclined a little to reverence and admiration of his courage, conduct, and success; till, by these different motions and agitations of mind, rocked as it were asleep, I fell at last into this vision; or if you please to call it but a dream, I shall not take it ill, because the father of poets tells us, even dreams, too, are from God.

But sure it was no dream; for I was suddenly
transported afar off (whether in the body, or out
of the body, like St. Paul, I know not) and found
myself on the top of that famous hill in the island
Mona, which has the prospect of three great, and
not-long-since most happy, kingdoms. As soon
as ever I looked on them, the " "not-long-since"
struck upon my memory, and called forth the
sad representation of all the sins, and all the mi-
series, that had overwhelmed them these twenty
years. And I wept bitterly for two or three hours;
and, when my present stock of moisture was all
wasted, I fell a sighing for an hour more; and,
as soon as I recovered from my passion the use of
speech and reason, I broke forth as I remem-
ber (looking upon England) into this complaint:
Ah, happy Isle, how art thou chang'd and curs'd,
Since I was born and knew thee first!
When Peace, which had forsook the world around,
(Frighted with noise, and the shrill trumpet's

Thee for a private place of rest,
And a secure retirement, chose
Wherein to build her halcyon nest;

No wind durst stir abroad, the air to discompose :
When all the riches of the globe beside

Flow'd in to thee with every tide;
When all, that Nature did thy soil deny,
The growth was of thy fruitful industry;

When all the proud and dreadful sea,
And all his tributary streams,

A constant tribute paid to thee;
When all the liquid world was one extended
Thames :

When Plenty in each village did appear,

And Bounty was its steward there,
When Gold walk'd free about in open view,
Ere it one conquering party's prisoner grew;
When the Religion of our state

Had face and substance with her voice,
Ere she by her foolish loves of late,
Like Echo (once a nymph) turn'd only into
noise :

When men to men, respect and friendship bore,
And God with reverence did adore,

(Just as thy barbarous Britons did)
Thy body with hypocrisy

Painted all o'er, thou think'st thy naked shame is


The nations, which envied thee erewhile,

Now laugh, (too little 'tis to smile)
They laugh, and would have pitied thee, alas!
But that thy faults all pity do surpass.

Art thou the country, which didst bate
And mock the French inconstancy?
And have we, have we seen of late
Less change of habits there, than governments in


Unhappy Isle! no ship of thine at sea,

Was ever tost and torn like thee.
Thy naked hulk loose on the waves does beat,
The rocks and banks around her ruin threat;
What did thy foolish pilots ail,
To lay the compass quite aside?
Without a law or rule to sail,
And rather take the winds, than heavens, to be
their guide!

Yet, mighty God! yet, yet, we humbly crave,
And though, to wash that blood which does it
This floating isle from shipwreck save;

It well deserve to sink into the main;
Yet, for the royal martyr's prayer
(The royal martyr prays, we know)
This guilty, perishing vessel spare;
Hear but his soul above, and not his blood below!

I think I should have gone on,but that I was interrupted by a strange and terrible apparition; for there appeared to me (arising out of the earth, as I conceived) the figure of a man, taller than a giant; or indeed than the shadow of any giant in the evening. His body was naked; but that nakedness adorned, or rather deformed, all over, with several figures, after the manner of the ancient Britons, painted upon it: and I perceived that most of them were the representation of the late battles in our civil wars, and (if I be not much mistaken) it was the battle of Naseby that was drawn upon his breast. His eyes were like burning brass; and there were three crowns of the same metal, (as I guessed) and that looked as red-hot too, upon his head. He held in his right-hand a sword that was yet bloody, and ne vertheless the motto of it was, Pax quæri tur bello; and in his left hand a thick book, upon the back of which was written in letters of gold, Acts, Ordinances, Protestations, Corenants, Engagements, Declarations, Remon strances, &c.

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