A Pindaric Ode in the Praise of Folly and Knavery, Title page – Encomium
A Pindarick ODE, IN THE PRAISE OF Folly and Knavery.
By Mr. TUTCHIN.
LONDON, Printed and Sold by E. W. near Stationers-Hall.
1696. Price 6 d.
THE EPISTLE.
SInce Fools and Knaves are the major part of the World, I muſt expect abundance of Enemies upon the Account of the following Poem; but as I hate the one, ſo I don't fear the other, and ſhall be unconcerned at the Reſentments of both. Truth is a thing no Man need to be aſham'd of, and he that's afraid to defend it deſerves not the Title of a good Patriot. If theſe random Shot hit ſome, they have no reaſon to complain, ſince I could have as eaſily deſcended to particulars as have wrote in general Terms. I'm ſure all honeſt wiſe Men must agree with me, that none are ſo fit to ſupport a juſt Government, as thoſe who oppos'd the Tyranny of an arbitrary One, and purchas'd a juſt and legal Settlement with the expence of their Blood and Money. 'Tis in vain to form a Government on the moſt Rational Principles of Human Policy, ſuited to the Ʋniverſal Benefit of Mankind, if the Adminiſtration thereof be put into the hands of ſuch Men, who have neither Wiſdom to Ʋnderſtand, nor Honour nor Honeſty enough to Support it: The very Being of that Prince is precarious, whoſe Government is ſupported by Fools and Knaves. The firſt are not able to give him Advice, yet through their folly may betray his Councils, which is equally as bad, as the others making themſelves a piece of the Government on purpoſe to rend the whole. There is as much difference betwixt Buſineſs and Grimace, the Combing of a Periwig, and the Exerciſe of right Reaſon, as there is betwixt the two greateſt contraries in the World. To prefer a Man becauſe he is a Fop, a Beau, or intreſted by Marrying a Caſt Chamber-maid, is very ridiculous: Or to prefer a Knave to Cheat a third King, becauſe he has Cheated two before, is monſtrous indeed, whilſt noble Patriots, and Defenders of the Liberties of their Country, are perhaps forc'd quietly to ſee the Profits of their Labour and Toil raviſh'd out of their hands, and nothing left to do but to contemplate on their Misfortunes, and can hardly diſtinguiſh betwixt their Fates, Hanging under Tyrannical Princes, and Starving under a Juſt One. They may look back, with an envious Eye, upon ſuch of their Companions, who have made their Exit at the Gallows, whoſe fatherleſs Children are ſo far from being Rewarded, that the Memory of their Parents is a Bar to their Preferment; And to conſider that a Righteous and Good Government is founded upon the Ruins of thoſe very Patriots, makes the Scene yet more black and diſmal. He only, that Governs the World, knows what will be the effect of ſuch Management; But I ſadly remember, it has been ſaid, Quos Deus vult perdere, prius dementat.
To my Friend, the Author of the enſuing POEM.
ERaſmus firſt the noble Task began,
Expos'd the Folly, to reform the Man;
In Ironia's pleaſing Garb diſplay'd
That Vice, by which we're Fools and Aſſes made.
But the rough Truth that ſhou'd have made us wiſe,
Lay deeply hid beneath a learned Guiſe,
Shrowded, in Forms Scholaſtic, from our Eyes.
This hard'ned Age do's rougher Means require,
We muſt be Cupp'd and Cauteriz'd with Fire.
For gentle Med'cines ne're can Health regain,
That ſtrike the Patient with no ſenſe of Pain.
When the Diſeaſe inveterate is grown,
Strong Corroſſives muſt be apply'd, or none.
Thus on the Body growing Ills prevail,
We find we're Sick, but know not what we ail.
Our outward Weakneſs, and our inward Pain,
Give hints that ſome unknown Diſtempers reign.
Severely every groaning Limb do's feel
The ſad Effects, yet none the Cauſe can tell.
To Polititians oft we have recourſe,
Who, what they ſhou'd have mended, ſtill made worſe.
For that Phyſician never can give Eaſe,
Who's wholly Ignorant of the Diſeaſe:
Or, if he knows, wou'd, rather than apply
The true Specifick, let the Patient die.
The mighty Cure's at laſt reſerv'd for you,
You are our Prophet and Phyſician too.
Firſt you inform us whence our Ills proceed,
Then kindly ſhow what Remedies we need:
Next you foretel, if we theſe Rules neglect,
What we muſt from our Negligence expect:
A State that ſees its Happineſs too late;
A Poet ſtrugling with Caſſandra's Fate.
B. Bridgwater.