The frauds he learn’d in his fanatic years
  Made him uneasy in his lawful gears; 60
  At best, as little honest as he could,
  And, like white witches[81], mischievously good. 
  To his first bias longingly he leans;
  And rather would be great by wicked means. 
  Thus framed for ill, he loosed our triple hold[82];
  Advice unsafe, precipitous, and bold. 
  From hence those tears! that Ilium of our woe! 
  Who helps a powerful friend, forearms a foe. 
  What wonder if the waves prevail so far,
  When he cut down the banks that made the bar? 70
  Seas follow but their nature to invade;
  But he by art our native strength betray’d. 
  So Samson to his foe his force confess’d,
  And, to be shorn, lay slumbering on her breast. 
  But when this fatal counsel, found too late,
  Exposed its author to the public hate;
  When his just sovereign, by no impious way
  Could be seduced to arbitrary sway;
  Forsaken of that hope he shifts his sail,
  Drives down the current with a popular gale; 80
  And shows the fiend confess’d without a veil. 
  He preaches to the crowd that power is lent,
  But not convey’d, to kingly government;
  That claims successive bear no binding force,
  That coronation oaths are things of course;
  Maintains the multitude can never err,
  And sets the people in the papal chair. 
  The reason’s obvious:  interest never lies;
  The most have still their interest in their eyes;
  The power is always theirs, and power is ever wise. 90
  Almighty crowd, thou shortenest all dispute—­
  Power is thy essence; wit thy attribute! 
  Nor faith nor reason make thee at a stay,
  Thou leap’st o’er all eternal truths, in thy Pindaric way! 
  Athens, no doubt, did righteously decide,
  When Phocion and when Socrates were tried: 
  As righteously they did those dooms repent;
  Still they were wise whatever way they went. 
  Crowds err not, though to both extremes they run;
  To kill the father, and recall the son. 100
  Some think the fools were most, as times went then,
  But now the world’s o’erstock’d with prudent men. 
  The common cry is even religion’s test—­
  The Turk’s is at Constantinople best;
  Idols in India; Popery at Rome;
  And our own worship only true at home: 
  And true, but for the time ’tis hard to know
  How long we please it shall continue so. 
  This side to-day, and that to-morrow burns;
  So all are God Almighties in their turns. 110
  A tempting doctrine, plausible and new;
  What fools our fathers were, if this be true! 
  Who, to destroy the seeds of civil war,
  Inherent right in monarchs did declare: 
  And, that a lawful power might never cease,
  Secured succession to secure our peace.