Beyond all Contradiction, the dange- NTITULED, The RAPE of the Lock, TO Government and RELIGION. By ESDRAS BARNIVELT, Apoth, THE FOURTH EDITION. To which are added, Commendatory Copies of Verses, by the most Printed in the Year 1723. : THE Epistle Dedicatory to Mr. POPE. THough it may seem foreign to my Profession, which is that of making up and dispensing salutary Medicines to his Majesty's Subjects, (I might say my Fellow-Subjects, since I have had the Advantage of being naturalized) yet cannot I think it unbecoming me to furnish an Antidote against the Poyfon which hath been so artfully distilled through your Quill, and conveyed to the World thro' the pleasing Vehicles of your Numbers. Nor is my Profession as an Apothecary, So abhorrent from yours as a Poet, fince the Ancients have thought fit to make the same God the Patron of both. I have, not without some Pleasure, observ'd the mystical Arms of our Company, wherein is represented Apollo killing the fell Monster Python: this in fome measure admonishes me of my Duty, to trample upon and destroy, as much as in me lies, that Dragon, or baneful Serpent, Popery. I must take leave to make you my Patient, whether you will or no; though out of the Respect I have for you, I should rather chuse to apply Lenitive than Corrosive Medicines; happy, if they may prove an Emetic fufficient to make you cast up those Errors, which you have imbibed in your Education, and which, I hope, I shall never live to see this Nation digest. Sir, I cannot but lament, that a Gentleman of your acute Wit, rectified Understanding, and sublimated Imagination, should misapply those Talents to raise ill Humours in the Constitution of the Body Politick, of which your felf are a Member, and upon the Health whereof your own Preservation depends. Give me leave to say, such Principles as yours would again reduce us to the fatal Neceffity of the Phlebotomy of War, or the Causticks of Perfecution. iv The Epistle Dedicatory. In order to inform you of this, I have fought your Acquaintance and Conversation with the utmost Diligence, for I hoped in Person to persuade you to a publick Confeffion of your Fault, and a Recantation of these dangerous Tenets. But finding all my Endeavours ineffectual, and being fatisfied with the Conscience of having done all that became a Man of an honest Heart and honourable Intention; I could no longer omit my Duty in opening the Eyes of the World by the Publication of this Discourse. It was indeed written some Months fince, but seems not the less proper at this JunEture, when I find so universal Encouragement given by both Parties to the Author of a libellous Work that is defigned equally to prejudice them both. The uncommon Sale of this Book (for above 6000 of them have been already vended) was also a farther Reason that call'd aloud upon me to put a stop to its further Progress, and to preserve his Majesty's Subjects, by expofing the whole Artifice of your Poem in publick Sir, to address my self to so florid a Writer as you, without collecting all the Flowers of Rhetorick, would be an unpardonable Indecorum; but when I speak to the World, as I do in the following Treatise, I must use a fimple Stile, fince it would be absurd to prescribe an universal Medicine, or Catholicon, in a Language not universally understood. As I have always professed to have a particular ESteem for Men of Learning, and more especially for your felf, nothing but the Love of Truth should have engaged me in a Design of this Nature. Amicus Plato, Amicus Socrates, fed magis Amicus Veritas. I am Your most fincere Friend, and humble Servant, E. BARNIVELT. (5) To my much Honoured and Esteemed Friend, Mr. E. BARNIVELT, Author of the Key to the Lock. An ANAGRAM and ACROSTICK. By N. CASTLETON, a Well-willer to the Coalition of Parties. B i 1 BARNIVELT. Anagram arrels conceal the Liquor they contain, And Sculls are but the Barrels of the Brain. Ripe Politicks the Nation's Barrell fill, None can like thee its Fermentation still. Ingenious Writer, lest thy Barrel split, Vnbarrel thy just Sense and broach thy Wit. Extract from Tory Barrels all French Juice, Let not the Whiggs Geneva's Stumm infuse, Then shall thy Barrel be of gen'ral Ufe. S N. CASTLETON. |