Helter skelter, or, The Devil upon two sticks in a comical dialogue between high church and low church, relating to the times / by the author of, All men mad.

Helter Skelter , OR THE Devil upon two Sticks . In a Comical Dialogue between HIGH CHURCH and LOW CHURCH , Relating to the Times . By the Author of ▪ All Men Ma● High Church Man . HERE Drawer , bring us t'other Quart , I love the Church with all my Heart , 't is the maintains the Power Royal , And teaches Subjects to be Loyal ; Altho some ca●ting Drones and Asses , Revile her Common-Pray'rs as Masses , And thro' Fools Consciences call'd Squeami●● , Condemn her spotless Faith as Romish . I say , such Scandals are but Fictions , Malicious whiggish Contradictions : And I 'll be bound my self , by Jove , Not only to assert , but prove , She savours of no Popish leaven , But i● the surest Guide to Heaven ▪ Come Drawer fill a Glass to th'bri● ▪ Let the Low sin● , and High-Church swim , For we that are the ●●ns o' th' High , Shall surely once surmount the Sky , Whilst the dark Zealots of the Low , S●●● down wards to the bottom go , In this salubrious Glass of Claret , The best of cordials I 'le aver it , I wish Prosperity with all My Heart , to the Church Episcopal . And hope the Crown , the same will nourish . That the true Faith may ever flourish ▪ Huzza I here goes a merry Bumper , Come pledge me , Sir , or you 're a Rumper ▪ Low Churchman . Methinks good Sir you 're mighty warm , I 'd have you think I wish no harm . To th'Bishops , or the Church , God mend 'em ' Or any Hotspurs that defend 'em , But I must plainly tell you this , Sir . Ill drink no Wine but what I please , Sir No High . Fly 's of you all , Gad take me , If I refuse to drink ▪ shall make me . Nay I 'll not pledge , for all your grinning , Such Popish Healths as your beginning : I 'd have you think I scorn to fear , Any Tantivy ▪ Ranter he●e ▪ Ay ; nod your Head , and knit your Bro● ▪ We 've Liberty of conscience now , Come , Neighbour Cant , GOD save the Queen We value no such fiery Men , God grant her Grace as well as Breath , To live and Reign like Elizabeth . High Churchman . Blood , Sir ; for all you talk so big , I say you 're but a canting Whig , A tank dissembling Presbyterian , The Spawn of some old Oliverian Whose Heart maliciously is bent , Against both Church and Governments ; And tho' you seem to wish the Crown So well , you 'd gladly pull it down , And drink the Q●●●s Health , yet you 'd rather Betray the Daughter like the Father ; For all the Wheedles● ▪ and God bless ye●● , Found in your glavering Adresses ; Adorn'd with florid canting stuff , We know your inside well enough . I say , he 's Rumpish that abuses The High-Church , or her Health refuses , And that he would be glad to see Once more the scene of Forty-Three ; And who approves the Blood then spilt ▪ Must be a Partner in the Guilt , And make himself a vile Abetter , By now consenting to the matter . Low Churchman I say , sir , you 're a meer ●hite-fire , You a good subject , you a Lyar , A flanting ▪ tanting Pe●kenire ; A Popish slave , a Jacobite ; That would have all the Nation groan , Beneath the Whore of Bab●lon : What tho' a King once lost his Head . Why should the Blame on us be said ▪ Why did not your Church Militant , That o'er your Wine so rave and ran● Behave themselves like better Soldiers And fight to keep it on his shoulders ▪ Are we ro blame because you lost . What many Thousand Liv●● had cost ; Why did not all your ●o●cas rally , To stop the Mischiefs that befal ye , But tamely stand , and sighing see Your Martyr's sad Catast●ophe ; 〈◇〉 sh●me henceforward cease to brag on Y●ur Church wh●s● emblem ●ho ' a Dragon To show it is her Constitution To uphold Popish p●rsecution : Yet a●e her Sons such bastard Romans , They fight u● bast●n● Doctors Commons . Wher● their C●u●t-Spiritu●l●s the Field . The Pen the Sword , and Gold the Sh eld : But now be prais'd w●'t● out of danger , And fo●r no high flown Bishops Ang●r . No fiery Churchman s Informa●ion , No griping P●octor or Citation ; But can serve GOD , w●●re o'●r we please In ●pight of en●mies l●k● th●s● ; ●●rig●t us Th● 〈◇〉 your high flying wo●ds sh●n't You● Chu●●h is gag'd and cannot bite us . High Churchman . ●ell you . Sir , for all your bawling , You r●●n 〈◇〉 c●●ing K●ip●●●oling . A Ca●v●●● 〈◇〉 Kn●ve a Flash a Bounce ; A grey ha●'d gr●●● illit rare Du●c● . Di● not your Trib● h●t●h Civil Wars , And set th● Nation by the Ears , P●uck down the church by heaven appo n red And ●●mple on the Lord's Anointed Murder and plunder all his Friends , A●d Tr●son p●●●ch to gain their Ends ; And when your Swords thro' vile dis●sters Had made you England s bloody M●sters . 〈◇〉 no● you than with ●●antick Joy , The Monuments ●'th ' dead destroy , A●d l●k● a heathenish pack of Knaves , D stu b their Ashes in their Graves , 〈◇〉 sa●k God's Al●a●s with you● Forees . Prophane his Churches with your Horses B●●●k s●cred Windows in your Fury . Painted long since to Heavens Glory , B●caus● malicious Fools , in spight , C●y d out they gave a Popish Light ; And when ▪ like wild ●eb●luous Devils . You 'd done all these inf●rn●l Evils And had the Sov'r●●gn Power subdu'd , By drinking up th● Nation's blood ' Could you tell ●●w to Rule the Roast , Or use that Pow r you had ingross'd ; 〈◇〉 first 't was seat●d in the Rump . 〈◇〉 ●hence did in●o th' A●my jump ; Then was it plac'● in Regu ators . Th●y had the Ca●v●ssing of Matters ; ●●om thence against th' Parliament● . To Cromwel next , by their consent : T●u● back and forwards was it handed , And 〈◇〉 about the Nation banded , Not knowing how to long maintain ●he Pow'r they did so basely gain But was at last forc'd with dishonor . To giv● it back to it 's right Owner , So busi● M●nkeys that have seen ; Their Master handle what is keen , Will in his absence , take in hand , What silly B ut●s don't understand - But whan they 've hurt some tender part , And see the Blood , and feel the smart ; They gladly lay down what they found , And lick to heal the painful wound . Low Church Man . I say , sir , you 're a Popish Biggot , A Tyrant's Slave , a Loyal Maggot , A speaking servile Tom a doodle , That has no Brains within thy N●●dle ; A zealous , poor , Crown serving To●● . F●t only to give K●ngs thy money ; A Cow'rdly non-resisting B●bble . Aw'd by the se●● of Death or Trouble ▪ A Wo●m for M●j●sty to tread on , An As● for Ba●thens to be leid on ; A Gover●men●'s most us●ful Tool . A Sacred Monarch's humble Fool , A Bishop●●● d●● Jack●● d●ndy , A Papist , sir , I understand ye ; A Foot-ball st●ffe with Loyal Zeal . For Priests to kick 'twixt Heaven & H●ll I'l● war'nt you 're such a Loyal Slave , You 'd serve the Crown w●th all you have Lay down your Life or y●ur Esta●e , To mak● your Prince p●o●usely g●a●● ; Or sight like Butcher's favourite Brindle ; R●ther than Pr●lacy should dwindle : N●● d●● a Martyr for the Church . B fo●e you 'd leave her in the lu●●h ▪ E'en hug thy high flown Loy●l Fury , I 'm no such Block hand I 'l assure ye ; Kings by the People first were made , And should no longer be obey'd Than whilst they mind our preservation ; And act for th' wel-fare of the Nation . Truely maintaining their Compaction , Without encroachment or Exaction ; But if at any time we find 'em Grasp at more pow'r than we design'd 'em O that they 've broke thro' , or forsaken The solemn Vows & Oaths they 've taken Or if they prove such Storks ●t Logs , Complain'd of by old Aesop's Frogs ; The suffering People may dismount Such Kings , and call them to accoun● ; GOD only made them Men , 't is we That yield them their Authorie , It 's Conquest gives a right to Rule , The Throne is such a precatious Stool . That whosoever fi●e thereon , Must alwayes have his Dagger drawn ; For if the people can by force . Dethrone the Victor or do worse ; Their Native freedom to recover , Their Right 's the same with his all over . 't is not to say he made us swear , That we would true Allegiance bear ; And that we are his Slaves in troth ; Because we 've taken such an Oath ; N● , since we cann't dispute his title ; We 're forc'd ●o flatter him a little ; And only do what he desires ; To gain those points our cause requires Not that an Oath can binding be Extorted in necessity : For bonds in prison are not good ; There is no reason that they should : What tho' a thief upon the Road ; Robs me , and makes me swear by G—d . I 'd ne●er discover him should I find him Do you believe this Oath is binding ? No , by my troth for all I 'd sworn ; I 'd make him take a Tyburn turn : And after all your mighty Rattles , Of Norman Victories and Battles ; A Conqueror 'twixt me and you ; Is but the greater thief o' th' two : Nor can the Oaths he puts upon us When by the Sword he'as over run us : Bind us t' acknowledge his protection : Longer than 〈◇〉 can force Subjection ? But when we find his strength doth fail , And we can ove● his pow'r prevail ; We have the s●●l same title then To Govern , a● he ●ad to Reign . And if we pull the Tyrant down , And from h●● T●mple 〈◇〉 the Crown ) We ta●e no mor● than what 's our own . ) Y●t you poo● Loyal Fools , will c●y w ●e co●● 〈…〉 wrong to Maj●sty . 〈…〉 as pow r to quel ; O● 〈◇〉 h●●l say that W●●●bel ; A● 〈…〉 't is we that must be halter'd , B 〈…〉 ●or attempts we falter'd ▪ 〈◇〉 S●●●ess shoul● crown our matters . T● K●●g and Friends are then the Traitors 〈◇〉 Law we 've seen it often try'd ; 〈…〉 on the strongest side . As 〈◇〉 your proud and lazy Prelates , S● touch ●●or'd by Popish Zealots ; I tel● y●u plainly I abhor ' em . And think there 's no occasion for ' em . T●e Sh●pherds Cro●k their Lordships wear To sig●●●y their P●storal Car● , Is of no other Service grown Unless to ho●● the Chu●ch to th' Crown . Nor do●s th●● fitting in the H — To th' Publick signify a Lou●e ; O●ly in matters of Debate . That happ n to e●flame the State , I ●m 〈◇〉 w●●●ing to forget The m ghty Goo● they did of late ; But f●ar they 'l p●ove such pious Men , As to undo it all again . To tell you truely I suspect 'em ; And cannot cordially affect 'em ; But dare to own before my Betters ; I love no Car●●nals ▪ Caps or Mitres . High Church Man . Now rage thy envious Heart has fir'd , I't war'nt thou thi●k'st thy self inspir'd ; And that thy base rebellious Babble , In spight thou 'st utter'd at the table , Is fill d with so much charming sence , And such convincing arguments ; That nothing can withstand the force Of thy Fanatical discourse ▪ But I must tell thee , thou 'rt a Dolt ; A fool for shooting such a bolt : You fire at random in the dark , And fall a Mile beside the Mark , Show by your Talk that you 're a scurvy Knave , that would turn us topsy turvy , A restless Wretch , that wants to tower Above thy Merit or thy Power ▪ Possess'd with that strange stupifaction , As 't wish thy native Land s distraction , T' enrich thy self by others ruin . And thrive by honest Mens undoing . I wonder who first taught thee Treason . And how thou suck'st in so much Poyson To think the People may dethrone The King , and make his Pow r their own ; So any Rebel , you will own , Has a just Title to the Crown ; If once by force he can but gain it . And has but power to maintain it . Rare Doctrine ! sure from Hell first brought ▪ By some Incarnate Devil taught ; Some Guile of Lucifer's designed To spoil the Peace of Human-kind To foment Feuds to Civil Wars . And set whole Kingdoms by the Ears : For where such Nations do encrease , There can be no such thing as Peace : Kings were at first by Heav'n appointed , And by GOD 'S holy Priest anointed . Not placed by th' People o'er the Land , But govern'd by Divine Command : The Lord himself by Revelation , Gave to the Priest the noimination , Without the Subjects approbation , But when the People he abus'd And the g●eat power he had misus'd So that just Heaven disapproved him . GOD Himself judg'd him . and remov'd him By g●ving in a Dream or Vision , To his High Priest a new Commission To openly declare his Word Revealed unto him by the Lord . That Heaven had denounc'd in Anger ; So ill a King should reign no longer , And that the Lord had new appointed Another Prince to be Anointed . On the Kings Misrule or Defection , GOD gave the People no Election , They were oblig'd to be content , ) With such a King as Heaven sent , And to approve his Government . ) For if the People by their Voice Made Kings and they should Rule hy choice , They'd Vote their Monarchs up and down , And so precarious make the Crown , That e're they 'd long one King obeyed They'd ch●se another o'er his Head , So that the Throne would be a Chair , Much fitter for my good Lord-May'r . Besides allow that Monarchie Should ( as you wish ) elective be , In our divided wrangling Nation . So full of Strife and Emulation , How would two Parties , that oppose Each other as inveterate Foes , That disunite in every thing , Agree in chusing of a King ? Both would their Fav'rites countenance , And each side would their own advance ; They'd ne er concurr in any One , And if we 've Two as good have none : Then if two Parties by their Voices , To please themselves make diff rent Choices How must they then dispute their Right , Unless it be by open fight ? The Sword must be the Arbitrater , And Conquest must decide the Matter ; So terminate in spight of Votes . In cutting one anothers Throats . Thus ev'ry popular Election Would end in Misery and Distraction● The City scarce can chuse her May'rs , But fall together by the Ears ; Nor Country Boors and Clowns content them ▪ Selves to chuse those that represent them : Least every such Election cloles With broken Heads , and bloody Noses , What evils then must needs befal us , Were we to chuse the Kings that Rule us ! Should England e'er prove so defective . As once to make her Crown Elective , Whoever we should chuse as King Would find he stood so tottering That he must like a Tyrant Rule . And make us Slaves , or be our Fool ! Low Churchman . Wounds , hold your Popish tittle-tattle , 'T would make one swear to hear you prattle ; Nay put a Saint into a Passion , To listen to your vile Oration ! Why what a Pox ( forgive good L—d ) My speaking such a wicked Word : But what good Man on Earth can be From such vain filthy Language free , In such provoking Company . I say Sir you 're a Perkenite , And talk like any Bedlamite : You 're Mad , and know not what you say , But rave like one that would betray Our English Liberties and Rights . Into the hands of Jacobites . And make us all poor slavish Creatures ; To heath'nish Crowns and Popish Mitres ▪ But e're such Times shall come about . We 'll make the Devil of a rout ; Alarm your Ears with such strange Thunder ▪ That should turn all your hopes to wonder , For all I am old , I thank the Lord , I 'm able still to wield a Sword , Or cock a Musquet in the Field . And would do both , before I 'd yield The Pow'r of England should be given To any Papist under Heaven . Go you 're a Romish Tory , Sir . A meer Cathedral Worshipper . That goes to Church to hear a Jargon Of Popish Masses with the Organ , As if you thought ( by your advancing Fine Tunes ) your Saints above , lov'd Dancing I say such Musical High Flyers , Are worse than Jesuits or Fryars . And are nought else in good Mens Eyes , But down right Papists in disguise . Your idle Talk provockes my Anger , I 'll keep you Companie no longer , You may perhaps have some design . There 's Nine pence for my pint of Wi●e . And so good night t' ye , Master High Church , I 'm sure I ne're shal be of Thy Church . High Church-Man . [ To the rest of the Companie ] Good Night ! Did ever Mortal Ear , Such strange Rebellious Notions hear - Imbib'd from stupid envious Teachers , Whose Malice onlie made them Preachers ▪ England , unhappie would'st thou be Beneath such Mens Authoritie ! Be wise and shun the sad Disasters , Of having such Fanatick Masters . Who abuse Justice , scoff at Reason ▪ Hate Loyaltie , and nourish Treason . And brand all th●se that thwart their kna●●rie . With love of Poperie & Slaverie . May Heav'n protect the Church and State From what such Saints would fain be at . That the Queen long may Rule the Natio●● And her Arms gain such Reputation , As to establish Europe's Peace ; And make all Forreign discords cease ▪ Also with one pacifick Smile . Our Home Divisions Reconcile , And ever bless our fruitful Isle . FINIS .