THE REVERSE: OR, THE Tables Turn'd.

A POEM Written in Answer, Paragraph by Paragraph, to a late Scurrilous and Malicious Medly of Rhimes called the Foreigners.

Non ita sunt dissimili Argumento, sed tamen
Dissimili Oratione sunt factae & Stylo.
Ter. Andr.

LONDON, Printed and Sold by Iohn Nutt near Stationers Hall. 1700.


THE Person who gives being to the trouble I am now put­ting my self to, is so well known for a Malecontent, and his Writings of so little Repute, that I should take no man­ner of notice of him, had he not been appointed the Mouth of a Party which would level their own with Crown'd Heads, and bring down those who have any seeming advantage over 'em. But since he is not content to be uninterrupted at his Calves Head Feast, to write against the Commissioners of the Victualing Office, at the same time when he had starv'd without their Assistance, to buz about Maladministration in those of the Admiralty, when he could prove nothing like it, but must needs arrogate to himself miserable Re­flections on the best constituted Government in the World, and strike at the Person of his Sovereign in those he has been pleased to Ho­nour with his Favours; I could not but think it my Duty to give him the Correction which was due to him, though it falls short of what he deserves. As for the Method I have taken; the Reason which in­duc'd me to Print his wretched Rhimes Line for Line was, because I would give some advantage to my Own which follow His Para­graph by Paragraph; and would expose those ridiculous Reflections to a Second Perusal, which have found too much favour at First. I intend it not so much for an Answer, as to put him in a more Methodical way when he shall write again; and to shew him what a dull Animal of a Malignant he is. I might indeed have Re­flected upon his Incongruities, pointed at the several escapes he has made from the confinement of Sence, and examin'd his Expressions and lamentable turns of Thought; But I forbore Particulars, to make him a General Block-head, and if I have done that, I have gain'd my aim.

THE REVERSE: OR, THE Tables Turn'd.

LONG time had Israel been disus'd from Rest,
Long had they been by Tyrants sore Opprest:
Kings of all sorts they ignorantly crav'd,
And grew more stupid as they were enslav'd;
Yet want of Grace they impiously disown'd,
And still like Slaves beneath the Burthen groan'd.
With Languid Eyes their Race of Kings they view,
The Bad too many, and the Good too few.
Some Rob'd their Houses, and Destroy'd their Lives,
Ravish'd their Daughters, and Debauch'd their Wives;
Prophan'd the Altars with polluted Loves,
And Worship'd Idols in the Woods and Groves.
Israel had still, if Israel had been true,
Enjoy'd sweet Rest, and kept soft Peace in view;
Her Kings made awful, and their Subjects fear'd,
And Those slept safe, while These had wak'd and steer'd.
But Fears, Distrusts, and Jealousies arose,
And Impious Israelites were Israel's Foes;
As Faction at her Monarchs hiss'd aloud,
Shaking her Snaky Locks amidst the Croud.
Thence grew a Scene of undistinguish'd Crimes,
And nothing look'd like Guilt in guilty Times,
Whilst Murm'ring Fiends on Tyrants laid their ills,
And in their stead obey'd their Tyrant Wills.
To Foreign Nations next they have Recourse,
Striving to mend, they made their State much worse.
They first from Hebron all their Plagues did bring,
Cramm'd in the single Person of a King,
[Page 4]From whose Base Loyns Ten thousand Evils flow,
Which by Succession they must undergo.
Yet Sense of native Freedom still remains,
They fret and grumble underneath their Chains;
Incens'd, enrag'd, their Passion does arise,
Till at his Palace-Gate their Monarch dies.
This Glorious Feat was by the Father's done,
Whose Children next Depos'd his Tyrant Son;
Made Him, like Cain, a Murd'rous Wanderer,
Both of His Crimes, and of His Fortunes share.
Her Queen deceas'd, and Virgin Sov'reign dead,
Without the Pledges of the Nuptial Bed,
A Neighb'ring Land the vacant Throne supply'd,
And lent with Tears, what she'd have kept with Pride,
Bless'd Israel with a Monarch Wise and Good,
Made her's, by Choice, by Providence, and Blood.
But Wealth nor Peace could Consecrate his Reign,
Her Childrens Blessing was her Childrens Pain;
Who in requital to the Race h' had run,
Return'd his Goodness with a Martyr'd Son.
Curs'd be the Pen that dares such Worth defame,
And give that Murd'rous Fact a Glorious Name,
Which deaf to Pity scatters it's Applause,
On what must Damn the Praiser with the Cause.
But still resolv'd to split on Foreign Shelves,
Rather than venture once to trust themselves,
To Foreign Courts and Councils do resort,
To find a King their Freedom to support.
Of one for mighty Actions fam'd they'r told,
Profoundly Wise, and desperately Bold,
Skillful in War, successful still in Fight,
Had vanquish'd Hosts, and Armies put to Flight;
And when the Storms of War and Battels cease,
Knew well to steer the Ship of State in Peace.
Him they approve approaching to their Sight,
Lov'd by the Gods, of Mankind the Delight.
The num'rous Tribes resort to see him Land,
Cover the Beach, and blacken all the Strand:
With loud Huzza's they wellcome him on Shore,
And for their Blessing do the Gods implore.
The Sanhedrim conven'd, at length debate
The sad Condition of their drooping State,
[Page 5]And sinking Church just ready now to drown,
And with one Shout they do the Hero Crown.
The Father Martyr'd, and the Son Mislead
By Counsels of a Land to which he fled,
As taught to Govern he forgot to Rule,
And held the Reins not Temperate or Cool.
What Method should misguided Israel chuse?
To trust Herself was ev'n Herself to lose.
Slow to correct, though eager to complain,
She could not regulate a faulty Reign.
When on Her injur'd side a Hero stood,
Foreign in Birth, but Native in his Blood;
And dar'd the Dangers of the Winds and Seas,
Vent'ring his Own to purchase Israel's Ease.
And just was Israel's Joy to see him Land,
And view Deliv'rance dawning from his Hand,
Just was the Gift she gave him in return,
For Death despis'd, and Hardships nobly Born,
For Wealth deserted, and for Succours brought,
Swift as Our Hopes, and daring as His Thought,
While the good Prince with Pious Sorrow griev'd,
And mourn'd His Fate, whose Kingdoms He reliev'd.
Ah happy Israel! had there never come
Into his Councils crafty Knaves at Home;
In Combination with a Foreign Brood,
Sworn Foes to Israel's Rights, and Israel's Good;
Who impiously foment intestine Iars,
Exhaust our Treasure, and prolong our Wars;
Make Israel's People to themselves a Prey,
Mislead their King, and steal His Heart away:
United Int'rests thus they do divide,
The State declines by Avarice and Pride;
Like Beasts of Prey they Ravage all the Land,
Acquire Preferments, and Usurp Command:
The Foreign Inmates the House-keepers spoil,
And drain the moisture of our fruitful Soil.
Yet there were some who shar'd the Warriour's Aid,
That murmur'd at the Gift themselves had made,
That high in Trusts and Pensions from the State
Thought their Rewards too small, and His too great;
As Israel's Sov'reign warm'd 'em in his Breast,
And nurs'd the Vip'rous Tyrants of his Rest.
Amongst the Chief was S—r's haughty Mind,
A Sloven Inhospitable kind,
[Page 6] Prefer'd by Kings, yet ne'er to Monarch true,
A murm'ring, cunning, miserable Iew,
Who in return to Royal Bounty, sheds
His venom'd Insolence on Royal Heads,
Opposing Courts, that he by Courts may rise,
As he puts on the Patriot in Disguise.
If to our Monarch there are Honours due,
Yet what with Gibeonites have we to do?
When Foreign States employ 'em for their Food,
To Draw their Water, and to Hew their Wood.
What Mushroom Honours does our Soil afford!
One day a Begger, and the next a Lord.
What dastard Souls do Jewish Nobles wear!
The Commons such Affronts could never bear.
Let no Historian the sad Story tell
Of thy base Sons, Oh servile Israel!
But thou my Muse, more generous and brave,
Shall their black Crimes from dark Oblivion save;
To future Ages shall their Sins disclose,
And brand with infamy thy Nations Foes.
If Iudah's Sons are false, and Gibeon's just,
Gibeon has right to share in Iudah's Trust;
And serv'd abroad whom she at home rever'd.
By Gods approv'd of, and to Men endear'd.
Monarchs are Fountains whence all Honours flow,
(And Fountains where they please their Streams bestow)
And if all Titles issue from the Throne,
Sure they may give, since what they give's their Own.
But Malice other kinds of Doctrine spreads,
And makes the Crown precarious on their Heads.
Forbid it Heaven such Notions have a place
Amidst the Registers of Iewish Race,
Whose Pillory'd Printer blackens the designs,
And whose whip'd Author stains the very Lines.
A Country lies due East from Judah's Shoar,
Where stormy Winds and noisy Billows roar;
A Land much differing from all other Soils,
Forc'd from the Sea, and buttress'd up with Piles.
No marble Quarries bind the spungy Ground,
But Loads of Sand and Cockle-shells are found:
Its Natives void of Honesty and Grace,
A Boorish, rude, and an inhumane Race;
From Nature's Excrement their Life is drawn,
Are born in Bogs and nourish'd up from Spawn.
[Page 7]Their hard-smoak'd Beef is their continual Meat,
Which they with Rusk, their luscious Manna, eat;
Such Food with their chill stomach best agrees,
They sing Hosannah to a Mare's-milk Cheese.
To supplicate no God, their lips will move,
VVho speaks in Thunder like Almighty Jove,
But watry Deities they do invoke,
VVho from the Marshes most Divinely croak.
Their Land as if asham'd their Crimes to see,
Dives down beneath the surface of the Sea,
Neptune, the God who do's the Seas command,
Ne'er stands on Tip-toe to discry their Land?
But seated on the Billow of the Sea,
VVith Ease their humble Marshes do's survey.
These are the Vermin do our State molest;
Eclipse our Glory, and disturb our Rest.
A Sect of People seemingly precise,
Nor East, nor West, nor South, distinctly lies,
All Points of Wind the Murm'ring Sinners share,
And Whine, and Rail, and Plot in ev'ry Air.
No God they'll suffer, and no King obey.
But would the People by the People sway;
Cursing their Kings, as if by Kings undone;
Yet wishing for Five hundred stead of One.
With these a Senseless, starving Scribler join'd,
Poor in his Purse, and restless in his Mind;
Yet proud of Parts he knew not how to show,
Turn'd out of Place, and despicably Low,
Whilst he to others Places laying Claim,
Lost what they had of Salary, and of Shame.
St—ns caress'd him, and Plain-dealing O
Fed him to Write his Anabaptist Notes.
A kind Assistance in a Lucky Time,
Which made him Preach as well as he could Rhime:
Such T—n was, an Evidential Scribe,
Fit for the Toil of one of O—s his Tribe,
Who Lash'd like him, like him could Snarl and Rail,
And shew his Malice, 'cause he shew'd his Tail.
Oh may the Calves-head Rioters, our Foes,
Still use his Rhimes, his lamentable Prose,
That Faction may be quieted and ceas'd,
Prais'd by so curs'd a Poet, and a Priest.
BENTIR in the Inglorious Roll the first,
Bentir to this and future Ages curs'd,
Of mean Descent, yet insolently Proud,
Shunn'd by the Great, and hated by the Croud;
[Page 8]Who neither Blood nor Parentage can boast,
And what he got the Jewish Nation lost:
By lavish Grants whole Provinces he gains,
Made forfeit by the Jewish People's Pains;
Till angry Sanhedrims such Grants resume,
And from the Peacock take each borrow'd Plume.
Why should the Gibeonites our Land engross,
And aggrandize their Fortunes with our Loss?
Let them in foreign States proudly command,
They have no Portion in the Promis'd Land,
Which immemorably has been decreed,
To be the Birth-right of the Jewish Seed.
How ill do's Bentir in the Head appear
Of Warriours who do Jewish Ensigns bear,
By such we're grown e'en Scandalous in War.
Our Fathers Trophies wore, and oft could tell
How by their Swords the mighty Thousands fell;
What mighty Deeds our Grandfathers had done,
What Battles fought, What Wreaths of Honour won:
Thro' the extended Orb they purchas'd Fame,
The Nations trembling at their Awful Name:
But, how can Factious Tempers be subdu'd,
When Israel's Rabbi's think such Tempers good?
When her High-Priests sit insolent in State,
And grumble at the Pow'rs that made 'em great,
Though from Agrippa's Bounty they are rais'd,
To wear that Vest which they before disprais'd;
When ev'n Hallastir's Gratitude is shown,
In wishing for the Fall of Israel's Throne.
A Man well Skill'd in Moses Sacred Laws,
And too much learn'd for such senseless Cause,
Deserving Love for what he truly knows,
And Hate for the Example which he shows,
As His Heart laughs at what his Hands have took,
And loaths the Shepherd though he grasps the Crook.
Next Levi's Son, a Napthalite appears,
Of goodly Words, but thoughtless in his Fears,
Still dreading the Excess of Regal Pow'r,
False, Discontented, Arrogant, and Sowr.
A Courtier once, for Israel's Service fit,
Till Grants refus'd envenom'd all his Wit;
Made him oppose the finding Means and Ways,
And turn'd the Stream of Flatt'ry to Dispraise,
As he would have the Subjects Wrongs redress'd,
And lost the Golden Key which Lock'd his Breast.
Such wondrous Heroes our Forefathers were,
When we, base Bouls! but Pigmies are in War:
[Page 9]By Foreign Chieftains we approve in Skill▪
VVe learn how to intrench, not how to kill:
For all our Charge are good Proficients made
In using both the Pick-ax and the Spade.
But in what Field have we a Conquest wrought?
In Ten Years VVar what Battle have we fought?
Distrusts like theirs our fretful Fathers seiz'd,
And urg'd a Rebel War to make 'em eas'd.
But Faith repos'd in Him our Wishes chose
Made us subdue another sort of Foes;
Instead of Natives, Philistines we slew,
And made the Iebusite adore the Iew,
When Boyn with Purple Torrents swell'd its Flood,
And Ahgrim swam, like Golgotha, in Blood.
If we a Foreign Slave may use in VVar,
Yet why in Council should that Slave appear?
If we with Jewish Treasure make him great,
Must it be done to undermine the State?
VVhere are the Antient Sages of Renown?
No Magi left fit to advise the Crown?
Must we by Foreign Council be undone?
Unhappy Israel, who such Measures takes,
And seeks for Statesmen in the Bogs and Lakes;
VVho speak the Language of most abject Slaves,
Under the Conduct of our Iewish Knaves.
Our Hebrew's Murder'd in their hoarser Throats;
How ill their Tongues agree with Jewish Notes!
Their untun'd Prattle do's our Sense confound,
VVhich in our Princely Palaces do's sound;
The self-same Language the old Serpent spoke
VVhen misbelieving Eve the Apple took:
Of our first Mother why are we asham'd,
VVhen by the self-same Rhetorick we are damn'd.
Yet those who Sav'd and Counsel'd us in War,
Must not in Peace at Council Board appear,
But in return for Conquest take Disgrace,
And Naturaliz'd, not have a Natives Place.
Oh! Israel, let it not in Gath be known,
Nor let thy Gratitude reach Askalon,
Publish it not, least Heathens know thy shame,
And Philistin's deride thy Sacred Name!
Bentir has for thy Rights and Houours stood,
And made an Israelite, sought Israels good,
Dispell'd the Tempests gathering from a far,
And next Agrippa hush'd the Din of War.
[Page 10]Yet for the Language is the Man dispis'd,
Whilst he that has no Thoughts is ador'd and priz'd.
Beast, as thou art, impertinent in wrong,
Thou need'st no Eve to Damn thee but thy Tongue;
Thy canker'd Malice, and thy fester'd Thoughts
Can turn the purest Vertues into Faults:
Whose rising Honours, and whose towring Fame,
Soar high in Merit, as thou sink'st in Shame.
But Bentir not content with such Command,
To canton out the Jewish Nation's Land:
He does extend to other Coasts his Pride,
And other Kingdoms into Parts Divide,
Unhappy Hiram! dismal is thy Song,
Though born to Empire, thou are ever Young!
Ever in Nonage, canst no right transfer:
But who made Bentir thy Executor?
What mighty Power do's Israel's Land afford?
What Power has made the famous Bentir Lord?
The Peoples Voice, and Sanhedrim's Accord.
Are not the Rights of People still the same?
Did they e're differ in or Place or Name?
Have not Mankind on equal Terms still stood,
Without Distinction, since the mighty Flood?
And have not Hiram's Subjects a free Choice
To chuse a King by their united Voice?
If Israel's People could a Monarch chuse,
A living King at the same time refuse;
That Hiram's People, shall it e'er be said,
Have not the Right of Choice when he is Dead?
When no Successor to the Crown's in fight,
The Crown is certainly the Peoples Right.
But Envy's not contented to Prophane
Agrippa's Friend, but dares his Master's Reign,
Under the Subject, it reviles the Prince,
And calls the truest Service an Offence.
Would Heav'n that Hiram's Sickness would abate,
And he himself leave Heirs to Sidons State;
That Peace restor'd might have no other Face,
And War be known no more to Mortal Race.
But since our hopes are in appearance lost,
And Fate has Israel's Vows and Sidon's crost.
Since the good Prince nor Herbs, nor Art can save,
And he must Childless yield to Nature's Grave.
What nobler Act could humane Mind perform,
Than to prevent and hush the growing Storm,
Which from two fierce Pretenders else would rise
With Arms in hand disputing for the Prize;
[Page 11]As each had equal share in Sidon's Reign,
And each had Sidon's Blood in ev'ry Vein.
What has he got, or what his Wisdom wrought,
But only Peace, and Peace was all he sought?
Egypt and Syria both as Brethren share,
Could Syria think her Lot divided fair,
And since they'r both Successors to the Throne,
Give Egypt what's her Part, and like her own.
If Kings are made the People to Enthral,
We had much better have no King at all:
But Kings appointed for the Common Good,
Always as Guardians to the People stood.
And Heaven allows the People sure a Pow'r
To chuse such Kings as shall not them Devour:
They know full well what best will serve themselves,
How to avoid the dangerous Rocks and Shelves.
If Kings are made the Product of our Choice,
And owe their Grandeur to the Peoples Voice,
Whence is their Right Divine, and whence is giv'n
A Sacred Pow'r, unless their Voice is Heav'n.
God first appointed Kings, and God ordain'd
That should be fix'd which He alone sustain'd,
Well knowing from his Providential Mind,
That Israel could not chuse, since she was Blind.
Unthinking Israel! ah! henceforth beware
How you entrust this Faithless Wanderer.
He who another Kingdom can divide,
May set your Constitution soon aside,
And o'er your Liberties in Triumph ride.
Support your Rightful Monarch and his Crown,
But pull this Proud, this Croaking Mortal down.
Let her indeed beware, and truly dread
The Mischiefs which are falling on her Head,
Whilst she permits Audacious Slaves, to dare
That Providence, that made Her Kings its Care;
And lets a Servile Wretch for Servile Ends
Traduce Her Monarch, and Defame his Friends.
Proceed, my Muse, the Story next relate
Of Keppech, the imperious Chit of State,
Mounted to Grandeur by the usual Course,
Of Whoring, Pimping, or a Crime that's worse;
Of Foreign Birth, and undescended too,
Yet he like Bentir mighty Feats can do.
[Page]He robs our Treasure, to augment his State,
And Jewish Nobles on his Fortunes wait
Our ravish'd Honours on his Shoulder wears,
The Titles from our Antient Rolls he tears.
Amongst 'em shines a Youth a goodly Port,
Keppech the glorious Pride of Israel's Court,
By Nature form'd for Grandeur, and design'd
For Honours, the Rewards of such a Mind.
Noble his Birth, though Foreign is his Blood,
(For other Lands can shew a Noble Flood)
His Temper Courteous, though his Station Great,
As ev'ry Word flows affable and sweet,
And since Agrippa's plac'd him near his Heart,
It needs must be th' effect of true Desert.
Was e'er a prudent People thus befool'd?
By Upstart Foreigners thus basely gull'd?
Ye Jewish Nobles boast no more your Race,
Or Sacred Badges did your Father's Grace!
In vain is Blood, or Parentages, when
Ribbons and Garters can ennoble Men.
To Chivalry you need have no recourse,
The gawdy Trappings makes the Ass a Horse.
No more, no more, your antient Honours own.
By slavish Gibeonites you are outdone:
Or else your antient Courage reassume,
And to assert your Honours once presume;
From off their Heads your ravish'd Lawrels tear,
And let them know what Jewish Nobles are.
And thou Great Prince, from whose Auspicious Reign
We Triumph o'et the Land, and Rule the Main;
From whose Example we should Discords cease,
And learn to live in what thou gav'st us, Peace.
Instead of these, wom Common-wealth Debates
Would render Enemies to Israel's States,
Part with thy treach'rous JOCKNEY from thy side,
Nor let thy Bounty more support his Pride;
Let HEBRON'S PRIEST from thy Embraces torn,
Preach Anarchy where Anarchy was born,
Whilst from thy Righteous Throne we take our Laws,
And fear the Sovereign as we love the Cause;
As we the Blessings of thy Scepter share,
And truly know what Iewish Monarchs are

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