near ready to sail, and then shewed me a letter, he was just ready to send you, wherein (among other things) I found these words: Have a care of yourself, be not fool-hardy, by venturing too far into the fight; there are ships enough to beat the Dutch, without -yours; and captains enough in the fleet, who will prudently shew you the way to keep farthest off, when danger is nighest; and then you need not fear the aspersion of a coward, as long as you have good company: Therefore I say again, be wisely cautious, for your death would certainly break the heart of my daughter, and bring my grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. I had scarce patience to read out so much, without tearing the letter, in a thousand pieces, and I could not forbear such language, as did but ill agree with the friendship between us. If you are (said I) so mighty fond of your son, send for him home presently, and let him run no other danger, than what he may meet in a London tavern, or bawdy-house; when he has a mind to fight, let bowls be his bullets, and broad oaths and curses his gun. powder; at other times, let him have nothing else to do, but treat his wife, or, as the fashion is, his wench, at the Play-house, Hyde park, or Spring-Garden. As soon as I had vented my passion, and grew calm, I so far convinced your father of his fault, that himself burnt his letter; and desired me to write one, more suitable to my own inclination. According to that little notice I have taken of sea-matters, I think our captains in general (and you among the rest) rather need a spur than a curb, when you are going to fight; and therefore, quite contrary to the former advice, I will set before your eyes the justice, and the danger, that attends a cowardly commander. 1. He robs the kiug and kingdom, not only of the money himself receives, but likewise of so much as the whole charge of the ship, with provisions and wages, amounts to, by rendering the same of no use, just when it should do the king service; he murders all those gallant men, which are slain by the enemy, and loses those ships, which fall into their hands, for want of being well seconded; he betrays his own party, to the enemy, by keeping back the expected assistance; and the weakening of us, and the helping of them, is all one; nay, as if he had received a bribe, to do mischief, he fires both over, and into the ships of his friends ; so helping both ways, to bring them to ruin, he compleats in himself the character of a traytor. By these means it is, our battles are lost, or at best so balanced, when they might have been won, that after a fight, the enemy, sooner than we, are in a condition of disputing the victory. No common high-way robber is half so great a rogue, as that officer, who takes wages, and dares not, or does not fight bravely, when there is an occasion. 2. As he largely contributes to the loss of the battle, so he ha zards doubly his own loss: For it is observable (I am sure in land fights) that where one is killed standing stifly his ground, five are destroyed in the running away; and I am told, in your sea-fights too, you lose most men, when you fight at greatest distance from the enemy. But then, besides the danger of the enemy, the coward has more reason to be afraid of his friends, they being likely to hate him the most, who before had the best esteem of him; and a gallows may easily catch him at home, whom a bullet abroad could not reach. So that to him may be well applied our Saviour's saying, He that will save his life, shall lose it.' 6 3. His fear impeaches the Divine Providence, which chiefly glories to exercise itself in times and places of most eminent hazard. I know some valiant men, who have come off unwounded from the heat of at least twenty battles; God oftentimes makes those places safest, where we apprehend the most danger, and those most daugerous we think most secure. Thus, my dear Cousin! You see, a coward, with a commission, is neither a good subject, a good christian, nor a good or wise man, in any sense; but must be, of necessity, a traytor to the king, a thief to his country, a murderer of his own party, and consequently detested of God and man.— Consult therefore your own heart, and if fear dwell at bottom, do not cozen any longer the king's expectation; lest, by staying another battle, you let all the world be witness of that shame, which yet may be easily hid. You may find fair excuses, enough to lay down your commission, and the prince can find men enough to take it up, who better deserve it. But if you will stay and fight, resolve to fight bravely, so as you may do service to the king, and gain yourself lasting reputation. If there have happened any disgust, between you, and any other commander in the fleet, either for wrongs really received, or supposed, or because he being a man of less desert, is preferred, and advanced before you: Consider that a fraction of the parts tends fairly to the ruin of the whole; and that your safety, and success, does chiefly depend on your unity, and a right understanding. If therefore you would be thought faithful to the king, if you would not be found false to your country, let all private quarrels die; or at least go to sleep, till the publick ones are decided. In the mean time, assist one another, by all manner of kind of fices, as often as it lies in your power; let the enemy only feel the effects of your indignation, and make it appear, by the greatness of your actions, that you are the man of most merit. Where duty bids go, never stay, for the example of any others; but rather strive, all you can, to make yourself their example.In a good cause, God prospers best the bold adventurer; let gallant resolution lead the van, and glorious victory shall bring up the rear. Sheerness, July 16, 1673. HONOUR'S INVITATION, OR, A CALL TO THE CAMP. Wherein the Triumphant Genius of Great-Britain, by a Poetical Alarm, awakens Written by a Young Gentleman of Quality now in the Service. [From a Folio Edition, printed at London, by H. B. 1673.] RED by fond mother's too indulgent care, BRE My vainer life spun out its thirtieth year: To duel rampant Miss on a soft bed, And his strong hands with Neptune's trident grac'd; "Now, when each noble soul, greedy of fame, *The king of England, Scotland, and Ireland. "Wilt thou alone, stupidly drown'd, prefer } "For kingdoms conquer'd, and proud States o'er-thrown? "Shall troops of heroes from all parts resort, "That quit the softer pleasures of the court? "Charge Death in th' face, and forward still aspire "Through midst of dangers swift as Heaven's fire? Shall the drum's rattling summons nimbly bring "Crouds of the vulgar in, to serve their king? "That laugh at hardships, and dare bravely die, "If fate require 't, to purchase victory? "And their example never move thy spirit, "Nor emulat'on of the others' merit? "What drowsy opium has possess'd thy brain, "Dull Soul! that all these joggings are in vain? "For shame, at last awake, lest it be said, "Your courage does not slumber, but is dead; "From before paltry beauties raise your siege, "Who think by faint resistance to oblige: "Nor let the kinder ladies tempting charms "Confine you still to their enfeebling arms : "When fate, turn'd prodigal, freely affords "The destinies of nations to your swords; "Let mighty cities be your mistresses, "Whose dowry brings the spoils of provinces. "Level their prouder walls, and let it be "A doubt hereafter to posterity, "When only shatter'd monuments they view, "Whether Jove's thunder hath been there, or you; "These are atchievements fitting to be done, "By each dares call himself stout England's son. "As a brave courser, standing on the sand "Of some swelling sea-channel, views a land Smiling with sweets upon the distant side, "Garnish'd in nature's best embroider'd pride, "Larded with springs, and fring'd with curled woods, "Impatient bounces into th' cap'ring floods; "Big with a nobler fury than that stream "Of shallow violence he meets in them; "Thence, arm'd with scorn and courage, plows a way To club with all the worthies of the world. No sooner these last accents had I heard, An honour'd life, or else a noble grave. June 21, 1673. Printed by Joyce Gold, Shoc-lane, London. FINIS. With Allowance. |