TO THE

READER.

T

IS not my Intention to make an Apology for my Poem: Some will think it needs no Excufe; and others will receive none. The defign, I am fure, is honeft: But he who draws his Pen for one Party, must expect to make Enemies of the other. For, Wit and Fool, are Confequents of Whig and Tory: And every Man is a Knave or an Afs. to the contrary fide. There's a Treasury of Merits in the Phanatick Church, as well as in the Popish ; and a Pennyworth to be had of Saintship, Honesty and Poetry, for the Leud, the Factious, and the Blockheads: But the longest Chapter in Deuteronomy, has not Curfes enough for an Anti-Bromingham. My Comfort is, their manifest Prejudice to my Cause, will render their Fudgment of lefs Authority against me. Yet if a Poem have a Genius, it will force its own reception in the World. For there's a sweetnefs in good Verfe, which Tickles even while it Hurts: And no Man can be heartily angry with him, who pleafes him against his will. The Commendation of

Adverfaries, is the greatest Triumph of a Writer; becafe it never comes unless Extorted. But I can be Satisfied on more eafie terms: If I happen to please the more Moderate fort, I shall be fure of an honeft Party; and in all probability, of the best Fudges: For, the leaft Concern'd, are commonly the leaft Corrupt. And I confess, I have laid in for those, by rebating the Satyr (where Justice would allow it) from carrying too fharp an Edge. They who can Criticife fo weakly, as to imagine I have done my Worst, may be convinc'd, at their own Coft, that I can write Severely, with more ease than I can Gently. I have but laugh'd at fome Mens Follies when I could have declaim'd against their Vices: And other Mens Virtues I have commended, as freely as I have tax'd their Crimes. And now, if you are a Malicious Reader, I expect you should return upon me, that I affect to be thought more impartial than I am. But if Men are not to be judg'd by their Profeffions, God forgive you Commonwealth's-Men for Profeffing fo · plausibly for the Government. You cannot be so Unconfcionable, as to charge me for not fubfcribing of my Name; for that would reflect too grofly upon your own Party, who never dare; though they have the advantage of a Fury to fecure them. If you like not my Poem, the fault may poffibly be in my Writing: (though 'tis bard for an Author to judge against imfelf;) But more probably 'tis in your Morals, which cannot bear the Truth of it. The Violent, on both fides, will condemn the Character of Abfalom, as

either too favourably, or too hardly drawn. But they are not the Violent whom I defire to please. The fault, on the right hand, is to Extenuate, Palliate, and Indulge; and to confefs freely, I have endeavoured to commit it. Befides the respect which I owe his Birth I have a greater for his Heroic Virtues; and David himself could not be more tender of the young Man's Life than I would be of his Reputation. But fince the most excellent Natures are almost the most eafie; and, as being fuch, are the fooneft perverted by ill Counfels, especially when baited with Fame and Glory; 'tis no more a wonder that he withstood not the temptations of Achitophel, than it was for Adam, not to have refifted the two Devils, the Serpent and the Woman. The Conclufion of the Story I purposely forbore to profecute; because I could' not obtain from my self, to shew Absalom Unfortunate. The Frame of it was cut out, but for a Picture to the Wafte; and if the Draught be fo far true, 'tis as much as I defign'd.

Were I the Inventor, who am only the Hiftorian, I should certainly conclude the Piece, with the Reconcilement of Abfalom to David. And, who knows but this may come to pass? Things were not brought to an Extremity where I left the Story: There seems, yet, to be room left for a Compofure; hereafter, there may be only for Pity. I have not fo much as an uncharitable Wish against Achitophel, but am content to be accus'd of a good-natur'd Error, and to hope, with Origen, that the Devil himself may at last be fav'di

For which reafon, in this Poem, he is neither brought to fet his House in order, nor to difpofe of his Perfon afterwards, as he in Wisdom shall think fit. God is infinitely merciful: And his Vicegerent is only not so, because he is not Infinite

The true end of Satyr, is the amendment of Vices by correction. And he who writes Honestly, is no more an Enemy to the Offender, than the Phyfician to the Patient, when he prescribes harsh Remedies to an inveterate Difeafe; for those are only in order to prevent the Chirurgeon's work of an Enfe refcindendum, which I wish not to my very Enemies. To conclude all; If the Body Politick have any Analogy to the Natural, in my weak Judgment, an A& of Oblivion were as necessary in a Hot, Distemper'd State, as an Opiate would be in a Raging Fever.