If not, yet, when my duty I have done,
I'll hear with patience what ensues thereon.
In all the changes which have been of late,
I have preserved this rule inviolate,

Though some think not; when one power was made two,
And wiser men knew not which way to go,
For, so far as my conscience would permit,
I served that power which in the throne did sit
Most visibly; in every change that came,
Siding with none in changing of the same.
And when the soveraynty on him was placed,
By God's permission, who enjoyed it last,
I did accordingly employ my force

To keep what might be naught from being worse,
And, venturing sometimes so far therein
That to my disadvantage it hath been,
I was to him in all things always true,
Which nothing took from his superior's due.

I did so far forth as it would consist

With God's praise, with the public interest,

And his true honor, do what in me lay

All these obstructions to remove away,

Which by disabling him might heretofore

Have made his dangers and our mischiefs more, &c.

After enlarging on the interment and obsequies of Cromwell, which is the chief subject of his poem, and animadverting with censure on its magnificence, the author proceeds, (p. 18,)

Philip of Spain, the second (as 'tis sayd),

Did of a funeral pageant thus arrayd,

A patern leave; which is resembled much
By this; one circumstance, and some few such
Excepted, (and for ought that I yet knew
That might be privately performed too,)
Those antirooms of state, with blacks beclad,
Through which men to the effigies passage had,
And wherein they were forced to stand bare,
Became a property unuseful there;

For Pater-Nosters they should there have said,
And Ave-Marias for the soul that's dead.
If they that ceremonie had observed
For which those places were at first reserved,
And whereto (though unpractised at this day)
Such innovations will perhaps make way.

We are already drawing very nigh

To superstitions and idolatrie,

And at the back door that is coming in

Which at the fore door hath expelled bin.

Who would have thought that we who do neglect

One of the goodliest piles of architect

In all the Christian world, because long since

It seemed profane, by things which gave offence,
That we should raise up trophies in its stead,
Of straws, and sticks, and kexes to the dead,

And with exploded vanities defile

The palaces and temples of the isle ?
Who having seen what zeal expressed was
In pulling down of crosses, painted glass,

Old altars, images of saints and kings,
(And with these of some inoffensive things,)
Did then suppose he should have lived to see
An idol in that place advanced to be,
Where heretofore an altar and a rood
To be adored by the people stood?

Who can believe that he who vilifide
Not long ago the vanitie and pride
Of former princes,-that he who had spoke
Against the heavie burthen and the yoke
By them imposed, and was himself the rod
And sword assumed into the hand of God
To root them out,-that he who but of late,
When he dismist the counsellors of state,
Sayd to the sergeant, Take away that bable,
(His mace at that time lying on the table,)
Should ever of his own accord think fit
Those trinkets which he slighted to admit ;
And, when he down into the grave descended,
Should thither with more vain pomps be attended
Than any English prince that heretofore

A soveraign sceptre in these islands bore ?

He then speaks of the offence given by this pomp of funeral rites, and of the consequences that may follow; and, alluding to the storm which was the subject of so much attention, anxiety, and remark, he says, it is the storm of God's anger and punishment that he most fears and anticipates, from the vices, flatteries, and avarice of the times.

God hath made known to us in some measure,
By every element, his just displeasure,
Those things, without which nothing is enjoyed,
Have of our late enjoyments much destroyed.
By sudden fires our dwellings are consumed,
And into smoke our precious things are fumed;
The waters in their wombs have swallowed up
No little portion of the merchant's hope;
And, overflowing new and antient bounds,
Swept herds and flocks out of the lower grounds;
The air, by storms and blastings, frosts and snows,
Destroyed our last crops in their fairest shows;
Yea after publicly we made confessions,
That God, accepting our humiliations,
Had thereupon vouchsafed pregnant hopes
Of future health and of more plenteous crops,
Even since that likely hope we for our sin
Deprived of that expectancy have bin :

The earth which bears us too, for our offences
Withholds her bounty; their sweet influences

The heavens withdraw. Death, when unlooked for, seizes

More oft than formerly by new diseases,

And they to give accompt are called upon

Who lived as if accomptable to none.

But hear me further, and relate I shall
Some things which do not every year befall,
Our ablest horse (even those, perhaps, wherein
More trust reposed was than should have bin)
Die suddenly, and ditches are bestrowed

With those bones whereupon our gallants rode,
Their stink (as once a prophet said) ascends,
Yet still his hand against us God extends.

Those leggs likewise which are our second strength,
Do reel already, and will sink at length

Thit body which they bear; the wings by which
We flew from shoar to shoar and were made rich,

Be gin to flag, and fly not to and fro

With such success as they were wont to do.

Sone whose new honours bloomed but last spring
Fell with the leaf, to shew how vain a thing
An bition is, and let them understand
Who flourish yet, their winter is at hand.

Much of our precious life-blood up is drunk,
The sinews of our power are crackt and shrunk,
Our honour, with our public faith, is lost,
Our private credits are destroy'd almost ;
And hard it is to say, whether the debtor
Or creditor is in condition better.
The Parliament securities are slighted,
And he whom they have by their acts incited
To purchase, (and, of paying whose just dues
An ordinance, and orders made fair shows),
Though more than ten years are elapsed since,
Gets neither money, land, nor recompense.

He then speaks of the observations he has made,

By being fifteen years together tide

(As by the leg) near London to reside,

on the abominations of the times, the iniquitous delays of law, the denial of public debts, and the struggle for place and power,

Nay, from ambition vermin are not free,

The nasty body-lice would head-lice be,

The servant rides, the master goes on foot, &c.

We likewise (as of late that Parliament
From whom he took the supreme government)
So idolized, that we thought too little
Conferred upon him by the soverayn title
Which God permitted him to undertake,
And what his army pleased of him to make
To govern us; we long'd for such a thing
As other nations have, forsooth a King,
With all the former burthensome array
Of kingship, which was lately took away.
Though he, as much as flesh and blood could do,
Refused it, with some perseverance too;
And, not content to make him paralell
With all who are recorded to excell
In virtues, by prophane or sacred story,
But placed him in a higher sphere of glory;
We gave him attributes which unto none
Belongs, but to the Deity alone.

And towards him ourselves oft so behaved

As if by him alone we could be saved;

Which peradventure did provoke God's wrath

To do to him and us as done he hath, &c.

Let us therefore weigh God's dealing with him, and not be deterred from the

duty of that inquiry.

I know he was upon that day advis'd

To somewhat which he should not have despised,
Whereto he gave small heed, or none at all,
Till what was justly feared did befall;

And who knows what beside that was neglected?
What was pretended then, what since projected?
Or what mis-prosecuted or mis-done,
Which might provoke the great Almighty one
To call him on that very day from hence,
Which was the day of his magnificence,

And lay the sceptre level with the spade? &c.

Perhaps the death of the Protector was occasioned by the sins of the nation.

So peradventure that storm, which did roar

So unmercifully four days before

He took hence our Protector, was intended

To signifie that he is much offended

With all this land, &c.

He then writes his epitaph, to prevent those of the flatterer or the malevolent.

THE EPITAPH.

Here dead he lies, who living here

Was Britain's greatest hope and fear,
And by what was on him bestown

Had all his equals overgrown;

His predecessors' sins and our

Made way for him to sovereign power,
By rendering that an act of reason,

And justice, which had else been treason.
No prince was ever heretofore
More praised or dispraised more;
Advantages few ever won

So great; none lost so great a one.
This world afford no pattern can
Which better shows what is in man;
His virtues were enough to do
So much as God designed him to;
He failings had, but when lived any
That had not every way as many?
If he (whilst here abode he made)
Such tempters and temptations had?
Presume not therefore, but, with fear,
Mind what you know, and see, and hear.
Yea heed what God and men have done,
But judge none but yourselves alone,
And aim in chief how to increase
God's glory and the public peace.

Then, after further discoursing of the times, and of the successor of the late

Protector, he goes on to say:

Thus, in plain language and in homely rhimes,

You have a brief character of these times,

Made on a slight occasion; to awake

The drowzie, that more heedful it may make

Men heedless; and him to be somewhat wiser
Who is not of good counsel, a despiser,
A souldier's dream, but of a barley-cake,
Told to his fellow, when he did awake,
And, spirited with his interpretation
Producéd an effect worth observation;
And so may this, altho' to some it seem
No better than a silly souldier's dream ;
I'll add no more, though much more add I might,
For here will be too much for them to slight,
Who in these flatteries much more pleasure have,
That send them with dishonour to the grave,
Than in plain spoken truth, which would to them
Have brought salvation if embraced in time;
And here will be enough to startle some,

To stir up others, till the alarum come

To such a number, as may then suffice

To make a reconciling sacrifice.

Unless we Sodom-like stand unreformed

Untill with fire and brimstone we are stormed;
This salt made out of salt I took occasion
To boil up, for the service of my nation,
To this height, as conceiving it was meet
To keep what's yet unputrified sweet,
And those corrupted humours to expell
Which in God's nostrils have an evil smell;
I hope men will not throw it in mine eyes,
Neither so universally despise
These timely warnings, that they shall by none
To good effect be read and thought upon;
And if but two or three shall thereby gain

Some benefit, I have not lost my pain.

The poet then ends with an allusion to Waller's poem, on which his own lines were written.

Mine be the shame, if I hereby to him

Intend disgrace, whose verses are my theam;

I did but thus his mercury calcine

:

For physick let him do as much by mine,
And if ought from my failings he deduce,
Which may to others be of wholesome use,
I shall be pleased; because, what lose I may
In one kind, will be gained another way;
But if he hath so generous a minde,

As to beleive he hath I am inclinde,

He will return me thanks that I have used

To no worse purpose that which he hath mused;

Yea, and rejoice that what in sport he writ

The needful premonition did beget.

"

Such is an abstract of a poem which, with one exception, is the scarcest of all Withers's pieces, and which is with difficulty to be procured. It derived its title of "Salt upon Salt" as being written on Waller's verses on the death of the Lord Protector, which Withers gives in the first page of his volume, and on which his poem may be considered as a moral commentary, offering to consideration the probable near approach of greater storms and more sad consequences." Though it is wanting in poetical merit, yet it derives an interest from the personal and political allusions. Of Waller's Poem Goldsmith remarks, that with respect to the times in which it was written, it was almost a prodigy of harmony; but a modern reader will chiefly be struck with the strength of the thinking, and the turn of the compliments bestowed on the Usurper." B-h-ll.

"

J. M.