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A

KEY

то тНЕ

LOCK:

OR, A

TREATISE

PROVING,

Beyond all Contradiction, the dange-
rous Tendency of a late POEM,

ENTITULED,

The RAPE of the Lock,

ΤΟ

GOVERNMENT and RELIGION.

By ESDRAS BARNIVELT, Apoth,

THE FOURTH EDITION.

To which are added,

Commendatory Copies of Verfes, by the most
Eminent Polirical Wits of the Age.

Printed in the Year 1723.

THE

Epiftle Dedicatory to Mr. POPE.

Τ

Hough it may feem foreign to my Profession, which is that of making up and difpenfing falutary Medicines to his Majefty's Subjects, (I might fay my Fellow-Subjects, fince I have had the Advantage of being naturalized) yet cannot I think it unbecoming me to furnish an Antidote against the Poyfon which hath been fo artfully distilled through your Quill, and conveyed to the World thro' the pleafing Vehicles of your Numbers. Nor is my Profeffion as an Apothecary, fo abhorrent from yours as a Poet, fince the Ancients have thought fit to make the fame God the Patron of both. I have, not without fome Pleafure, obferv'd the myftical Arms of our Company, wherein is reprefented Apollo killing the fell Monster Python: this in fome meafure admonishes me of my Duty, to trample upon and deftroy, as much as in me lies, that Dragon, or baneful Serpent, Popery.

I must take leave to make you my Patient, whether you will or no; though out of the Respect I have for you, I should rather chufe to apply Lenitive than Corrofive Medicines; happy, if they may prove an Emetic fufficient to make you caft up thofe Errors, which you have imbibed in your Education, and which, I hope, I fhall never live to fee this Nation digeft.

Sir, I cannot but lament, that a Gentleman of your acute Wit, rectified Understanding, and fublimated Imagination, should mifapply thofe Talents to raife ill Humours in the Conftitution of the Body Politick, of which your felf are a Member, and upon the Health whereof your own Prefervation depends. Give me leave to fay, fuch Principles as yours would again reduce us to the fatal Neceffity of the Phlebotomy of War, or the Caufticks of Perfecution.

A 2

In

iv

The Epiftle Dedicatory.

In order to inform you of this, I have fought your Acquaintance and Converfation with the utmost Diligence, for I hoped in Person to persuade you to a publick Confeffion of your Fault, and a Recantation of these dangerous Tenets. But finding all my Endeavours ineffectual, and being fatisfied with the Confcience of having done all that became a Man of an honeft Heart and honourable Intention; I could no longer omit my Duty in opening the Eyes of the World by the Publication of this Difcourfe. It was indeed written fome Months fince, but feems not the lefs proper at this JunEture, when I find fo univerfal Encouragement given by both Parties to the Author of a libellous Work that is defigned equally to prejudice them both. The uncommon Sale of this Book (for above 6000 of them have been already vended) was alfo a farther Reason that call'd aloud upon me to put a stop to its further Progrefs, and to preferve his Majefty's Subjects, by expofing the whole Artifice of your Poem in publick

Sir, to address my felf to fo florid a Writer as you, without collecting all the Flowers of Rhetorick, would be an unpardonable Indecorum; but when I speak to the World, as I do in the following Treatise, I must ufe a fimple Stile, fince it would be abfurd to prescribe an univerfal Medicine, or Catholicon, in a Language not univerfally understood.

As I have always profeffed to have a particular Efteem for Men of Learning, and more especially for your felf, nothing but the Love of Truth fhould have engaged me in a Defign of this Nature. Amicus Plato, Amicus Socrates, fed magis Amicus Veritas. I

am,

Your most fincere Friend,

and bumble Servant,

E. BARNIVELT.

(5)

To my much Honoured and Efteemed Friend, Mr. E. BARNIVELT, Author of the Key to the Lock. An ANAGRAM and ACROSTICK. By N. CASTLETON, a Well-willer to the Coalition of Parties.

B

BARNIVELT.
Anagram,

UNBAREL IT.

arrels conceal the Liquor they contain,
A nd Sculls are but the Barrels of the Brain.
Ripe Politicks the Nation's Barrell fill,
None can like thee its Fermentation still.
I ngenious Writer, left thy Barrel fplit,
V nbarrel thy juft Senfe and broach thy Wit.
Extract from Tory Barrels all French Juice,
Let not the Whiggs Geneva's Stumm infuse,
Then fhall thy Barrel be of gen'ral Ufe.

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