A paradox against liberty written by the Lords, during their imprisonment in the Tower a poem. 1679 Approx. 12 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 3 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2004-08 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A55745 Wing P330 ESTC R5967 13087468 ocm 13087468 97315 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A55745) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 97315) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 747:43) A paradox against liberty written by the Lords, during their imprisonment in the Tower a poem. Shaftesbury, Anthony Ashley Cooper, Earl of, 1621-1683. Buckingham, George Villiers, Duke of, 1628-1687. Salisbury, James Cecil, Earl of, d. 1683. Wharton, Philip Wharton, Baron, 1613-1696. [2], 2 p. [s.n.], Londn [sic] : 1679. Printed in double columns. The Lords are Shaftesbury, Buckingham, Salisbury, and Wharton. Reproduction of original in Huntington Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. EEBO-TCP is a partnership between the Universities of Michigan and Oxford and the publisher ProQuest to create accurately transcribed and encoded texts based on the image sets published by ProQuest via their Early English Books Online (EEBO) database (http://eebo.chadwyck.com). The general aim of EEBO-TCP is to encode one copy (usually the first edition) of every monographic English-language title published between 1473 and 1700 available in EEBO. EEBO-TCP aimed to produce large quantities of textual data within the usual project restraints of time and funding, and therefore chose to create diplomatic transcriptions (as opposed to critical editions) with light-touch, mainly structural encoding based on the Text Encoding Initiative (http://www.tei-c.org). The EEBO-TCP project was divided into two phases. The 25,363 texts created during Phase 1 of the project have been released into the public domain as of 1 January 2015. Anyone can now take and use these texts for their own purposes, but we respectfully request that due credit and attribution is given to their original source. Users should be aware of the process of creating the TCP texts, and therefore of any assumptions that can be made about the data. Text selection was based on the New Cambridge Bibliography of English Literature (NCBEL). If an author (or for an anonymous work, the title) appears in NCBEL, then their works are eligible for inclusion. Selection was intended to range over a wide variety of subject areas, to reflect the true nature of the print record of the period. In general, first editions of a works in English were prioritized, although there are a number of works in other languages, notably Latin and Welsh, included and sometimes a second or later edition of a work was chosen if there was a compelling reason to do so. Image sets were sent to external keying companies for transcription and basic encoding. Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor. The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines. Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Liberty -- Anecdotes 2004-02 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2004-03 Apex CoVantage Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2004-04 Mona Logarbo Sampled and proofread 2004-04 Mona Logarbo Text and markup reviewed and edited 2004-07 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion A PARADOX Against LIBERTY VVritten by the Lords , During their Imprisonment In the TOWER . A POEM . Contrahes Vento nimium secundo Turgida Vela . LONDN , Printed in the Year . 1679. A PARADOX AGAINST LIBERTY . A Prison , or the Isle , are much the same ; They onely differ in Conceit and Name . As Art the first , Nature Immures the last ; Onely i' th' larger Mold her Figure 's cast . All Islanders are in Prison pent , And none at large , not those o' th' Continent . Each Mariner's a Prisoner in his Bark . The living World was prison'd in the Ark. And though it be abroad adayes , the Light Still lodges in the prison of black Night . The Sea it self , is to its bounds confin'd . And Aeolus in Caves shuts up the wind . Nothing in Nature has such vast Extent , But is imprison'd in its Element . The Fish , in watry Dungeons are inclos'd ; Men , Beasts , and Birds , to Earth and Air dispos'd . If to enlarge their narrow bounds , they strive , The fatal freedom rarely they survive . And as with them , we hope with us 't will be , When from their Prisons took , Death sets them free . Man can no more a native freedom boast ; That Jewel ne're was found , since first 't was lost . 'T was then transported to the Stygian Coast. But still there 's something which we do esteem , Onely because 't is like the polisht Gemme , And this we Freedom call ; its credit grows From a false stamp , the guilded outside shows : Which avaritious Man attempts to get , Cheated and ruin'd with the Counterfeit . Like Children , Soapy-bubbles they pursue , And the fantastick Vision , take for true ; But whilst they think bright forms they do embrace , Ixion-like , they find a cloud i' th' place , Consent of Crowds , exceeding credit brings , And seems to stamp Truth 's Image on false things . Not what 's a real good , but what does seem , Still shares the blind and popular esteem . Whilst Sense and Fancy over-rule their choice , And Reason in th' Election has no voice . But Souls in vain have Reason's Attribute , If to their Rule , they cannot Sense submit ▪ Hence the Heroick mind makes no complaint , But freedom does enjoy , even in restraint . When Chains and Fetters do his Body bind , He then appears more free , and less confin'd . Discord and Care , which do distract him here , In durance take their leave , and come not there . False Friends and Flatt'rers , then , take last adieu , Who often swore how faithful and how tue , Things their dishonest bosoms never knew . These , like the Swallows , in cold weather flye ; A Summers fortune only draws them nigh . Flatt'rers a sort of fatal Suckers be , Which draw the Sap 'till they destroy the Tree . Fair Vertue to their Opticks when they bring , Seems a deform'd and antiquated thing , Vice they commend , whilst Vertue is despis'd ; The blackest by these Negroes most are pris'd . These slaves to Vice , do hug so hard and long ; Till like the o'refond Ape , they kill their Young. Ambition in the Mind 's a Feverish Thirst , Which is by drinking , dryer than at first ; And these will feed the humour till it burst . When Parasites the Arbiters are made , They 'l place the Garland on a Bedlam's head . Riot , Excess , and Pleasure car ' the Day , And Lust ( the worst of Tyrants ) bears the sway , At whose black Throne they blind Allegiance pay , Morose and dull they do account the Grave ; And the Meek-man , fit onely for a Slave : The Humble , of a Nature poor and base ; The Chast , sprung from a dull insipid Race ; And Temperance , a Gallant 's chief disgrace . In Vertues garb , the great Mans Vice they dress , Giving it Names which sound of Worthiness . They call his Pride the Grandeur of his Mind , And for his Lust the Name they have design'd Is a complaisant Ayr , that make men kind . Profaness is his Wit ; and his Excess By a Gay janty Humour they express ; All his Debauches too must be no less . Thus they lap Ruine up , and guild our Crimes ; But Vice destroys like Ivy , where it climbs . In us , the dang'rous State th' Ambitious see Of Greatness , Avarice , and Flatterie . Gifts , Honours , Office , Greatness , Grace of Kings ; Raise the Ambitious upon Treach'rous wings ; 'Till from the mighty heights they giddy grow , And fall into the Ruine lyes below . If the first fall , which do support our state ▪ The last our Fall serve to precipitate . This with too dear Experience we have bought ▪ And learnt a Lesson , which too late was taught . Prosperity's a Drug , that must be ta'ne Corrected ( Opium like ) or else 't is bane . A more Lethargick quality's in her , Than ever yet in Opium did appear . Her fatal Poyson to the Mind she sends , And uncorrect , in sure destruction ends ▪ Whilst in the way her guilded shares she lays , Easie and credulous Man she soon betrays ; Who sees her Roses and her Lillies here , But her concealed Snakes doth never fear . Prosperity's repasts puff up the Mind With unsubstantial and unwholsome wind . 'T is a Hault-Goust which Epicures do use , And choicer Viands squeamishly refuse . But when Affliction moulds your daily bread , 'T is then the staff of Life with which she 's fed . Affliction ( like the River Nile ) bestows Her fruitful blessings whereso'ere she flows : And if when she withdraws , strange Serpents rise , Not in her streams , but in the Soyl , it lyes . Which ( like the great Apollo ) she strikes dead , By the same Influence they first were bred , If she return , and shew her hidden head . Great Minds ( like the victorious Palms ) are wont Under the Weights of Fortune more to mount . Strongly supprest , and hurl'd upon the ground , Fill'd with sublimer thoughts they more rebound . Still careless whether Fortune smile or frown , Whether she give , or take away a Crown . Our Walls are Tyded , and by that we know She alwaies ebbs , when she doth leave to flow , And constant in Inconstancy does grow . Make an attacque all Injuries that can , They fall like Waves beneath a rising Swan . Freed and secur'd from all discordant Care , Here we our heads above the billows bear , Till from our shoulders they transplanted are . And from their summits , with dumb gapes proclaim , Of a Quincumvirat the trait'rous shame . But during all this Storm , we still do find An Anchor and a Haven in our Mind , Not beaten now , though then expos'd to th' Wind. As Nightingals , our bosoms we expose , And sing , environ'd with the sharpest woes . Degraded from vain Honour , here we grow More great and high , as Trees by lopping do . Honour 's like froth in each Man's glass of Beer ; 'T is least of use , though topmost it appear . The common Vouchee for ill acts she 's grown ; It and Religion all our Mischiefs own . She raigns in Youth with an unruly heat And in her falser Mirror shews them Great , Till Age and Time convince them of the Cheat. Rash heads approve what sober Men despise , And the fantastick Garb offends the Wife ; She rarely now is seen , but in Disguise . True Honour and plain Honesty 's the same ; From various Dwellings , comes the various Name : For whilst she 's gay in Courts , she 's Honour there , But Honesty with us in Durance here . In differing States ▪ most things have difference : What pleas'd this day , the next offends the Prince . The Prosperous loath what the Afflicted love ; Prisoners abhor , what free , they did approve . And still there 's power in each Man's choice , to make Himself content , if he can wisely take , And think his own ( though hard ) a happy Stake In ev'ry state does some Contentment dwell , And here we find a Palace in a Cell . Good is good ev'ry where , and ev'ry thing , And Good can of it self no Evil bring . All Good 's a raye of the first Light alone ; When Ill approaches ; only that 's our own . Vertue 's not gain'd by spending of our days In pleasure , Princes Courts , or from their Rays . At Vertue 's Coast by Travel we arrive , And so by Travel Vertue 's kept alive . She dwindles if she want due Exercise ; But us'd , grows brighter , and still multiplies . Vertue increases Snow-ball-like , rowl'd on : A lazy Vertue 's next of kin to None . Pris'ners indeed they be , that do lay by At once their Freedom and their Industry . If Men turn Drones within these hony'd Hyves , It lyes i' th' Pris'ner's heart , and not his Gyves . The Good grow better here , the Bad grow worse ; The Spur that makes this go , does jade that Horse ▪ Hence the great'st part are male-content and sad , Since that the Good are fewer than the Bad. A Bliss that springs from penitential joy , Is the Minds balsome in each sharp Annoy ; Fools only their own Comforts do destroy ▪ To this Retirement we can freely go ; 'T is the great'st pace of Majesty below : Our stirring out imports the World to know . The Goalers Centinel to guard our Doors , And Castles are contain'd i' th' narrow Floors . More happy and more safe , secur'd from Foes , Than those whom Troops of Enemies enclose . Much more as Pris'ners , our high bliss we boast , Being secur'd from such a mighty Hoast Of deadly Foes , so fierce with wrath and might , Our selves so feeble , and unfit to fight 'Gainst the black band of Vicious and Profane , Who Thousands do undo in each Campain . In the Assault , we seldom brook the Field , But flye like Hares , or else like Cowards yield . Yet this the World esteems an hard estate , And Us , who feel it , count unfortunate . Shew then , Philosophy ! the state wherein Such Safety , and so much Content is seen . Wherein less rugged or steep hind'rance lyes , T' obstruct the Path unto Perfection's prize The useful Rod's only bound up for this , To whip and lash the Childish on to Bliss ; Who sullenly refuse the Rod to kiss , And so the Blessing in the Whipping miss . Some , like the Whale , only design'd to play In fruitless pleasures , drive the flying day ; As Boys with Clackers drive the Lent away , Whilst here , we stop the hours of Time , that flyes , With Contemplation's nobler Exercise . Maugre all Goals , think we e're long must dye , And then enjoy an endless Liberty ; Death will redeem from long Captivity . Man's Life 's a Piece spun of a various Thred ; In some 't is fine , in ●ome a courser Web. The Threds across , th' Occurrences of Fate , Cut early from the Loom by Death , or late ▪ The Dread of Kings , Death , does not us dismay ; To Dye's less , than be Tantaliz'd each day . What Man complains , with Weariness opprest ▪ That Night is come , the only Time to Rest ? FINIS .