An Englishman on all extremes will run,
And by consent be wilfully undone.
If an opinion thwart what ancients wrote,
He catches it, and bosoms up the thought.
Alcides would his club as soon resign,
As he a darling heresy decline.
"Yet we must do the sons of England right:
Some stars shine through the horrour of the night,
For navigation, and for skill renown'd
In sailing the terraqueous globe around.
To them no shore's untried, no sea's unknown,
Where weaves have murmur'd, and where winds have blown.
| Typhis and Jason, who in Argo came, | |
| Lay no pretensions to so just a fame, | |
| As Ca'endish, Willoughby, and Drake's immortal name." |
Is it not time to redeem our character, that the world, in applauding our courage, may no longer object our divisions? Though we disagree in religion; yet, for common good, we should, methinks, be glad to unite in politicks. Our ceremonies may differ, but our essentials are the same; and to people of reason, one would imagine, there needed not much persuasion, to join in those advantageous particulars, reputation and interest.
Parties break their force against one another, do the work of our foes, are weakened by perpetual animosities, hate their adversary at home much more strenuously than a foreign enemy, incapacitate themselves from doing all the injury they should to France, all the good they ought to England. Our piques and distastes for trifles have run us up to
