Backward they move, but scorn their pace to mend; [scend. Then seek the stairs, and with slow haste deFierce Pasimond, their passage to prevent, Thrust full on Cymon's back in his descent; The blade return'd unbath'd, and to the handle bent.
Stout Cymon soon remounts, and cleft in two His rival's head with one descending blow; And as the next in rank Ormisda stood, He turn'd the point; the sword, inur'd to blood, [purple flood.
Bor'd his unguarded breast, which pour'da With vow'd revenge, the gath'ring crowd pur
The ravishers turn head, the fight renews; The hall is heap'd with corps; the sprinkled gore
Besmears the walls, and floats the marble floor. Dispers'd at length the drunken squadron flies,
The victors to their vessel bear the prize; And hear behind loud groans and lamentable cries.
The crew with merry shouts their anchors weigh,
[sea, Then ply their oars, and brush the buxom While troops of gather'd Rhodians crowd the key.
What should the people do when left alone:
The governor and government are gone:
The public wealth to foreign parts convey'd ;
Some troops disbanded, and the rest unpaid.
Rhodes is the sovereign of the sea no more;
Their ships unrigg'd, and spent their naval
store;
They neither could defend, nor can pursue, But grinn'd their teeth, and cast a helpless view:
In vain with darts a distant war they try,
Short, and more short, the missive weapons fly.
Meanwhile the ravishers their crimes enjoy,
And flying sails and sweeping oars employ:
The cliffs of Rh les in little space are lost;
Jove's isle they seek, nor Jove denies his coast.
In safety landed on the Candian shore,
With gen'rous wines their spirits they restore;
There Cymon with his Rhodian friends re-
Both court and wed at once the willing brides.
A war ensues, the Cretans own their cause,
Stiff to defend their hospitable laws;
Both parties lose by turns, and neither wins,
Till peace propounded by a truce begins.
The kindred of the slain forgive the deed,
But a short exile must for show proceed;
The term expir'd, from Candia they remove
And happy each at home enjoys his love.
DIM as the borrow'd beams of moon and
To lonely, weary, wand'ring travellers,
Is reason to the soul: and as on high
Those rolling fires discover but the sky,
Nor light us here; so reason's glimm'ring ray
Was lent not to assure our doubtful way,
But guide us upward to a better day.
And as those nightly tapers disappear
When day's bright lord ascends our hemis-
phere;
So pale grows reason at religion's sight;
So dies, and so dissolves in supernat'ral light.
Some few, whose lamp shone brighter, have
been led
Or various atoms, interfering dance,
Leap'd into form, the noble work of chance;
Or this great all was from eternity;
Not e'en the Stagirite himself could see,
And Epicurus guess'd as well as he;
As blindly grop'd they for a future state;
As rashly judg'd of Providence and fate:
But least of all could their endeavours find
What most concern'd the good of human
kind:
For happiness was never to he found,
But vanish'd from them like enchanted ground.
One thought content the good to be enjoy'd:
This every little accident destroy'd :
The wiser madmen did for virtue toil;
A thorny, or at best a barren soil:
In pleasure some their glutton souls would
[deep;
But found their line too short, the well too
And leaky vessels which no bliss could keep.
From cause to cause, to nature's secret head;
And found that one first principal must be :
But what, or who, that universal He;
Whether some soul encompassing this ball,
Unmade, unmov'd; yet making, moving all;
No. XLV.--Continued from the Poetical part in No. 44.]
Thus anxious thoughts in endless circles roll,
Without a centre where to fix the soul:
In this wild maze their vain endeavours end :
How can the less the greater comprehend?
Or finite reason reach Infinity?
For what could fathom God were more than
He.
The Deist thinks he stands on firmer ground;
Cries supna the mighty secret's found:
God is that spring of good; supreme, and best,||
We made to serve, and in that service blest.
If so, some rules of worship must be given,
Distributed alike to all by Heaven :
Else God was partial, and to some denied
The means his justice should for all provide.
This gen'ral worship is to praise and pray;
One part to borrow blessings, one to pay :
And when frail nature slides into offence,
The sacrifice for crimes is penitence.
Yet, since the effects of Providence, we find,
Are variously dispens'd to human kind;
That vice triumphs, and virtue suffers here,
A brand that sov 'reign justice cannot bear ;
Our reason prompts us to a future state,
The last appeal from fortune and from fate;
Where God's all-righteous ways will be de-
clar'd;
The bad meet punishment, the good reward.
Thus man by his own strength to Heaven
would soar;
And would not be obliged to God for more.
Vain wretched creature! how art thou misled,||
To think thy wit these godlike notions bred!
These truths are not the product of thy mind,
But dropt from heaven, and of a nobler kind.
Reveal'd religion first inform'd thy sight,
And reasou saw not till faith sprung the light.
Hence all thy nat'ral worship takes the
source;
'Tis revelation, what thou think'st discourse.
Else how com'st thou to see these truths so
clear,
Which so obscure to heathens did appear?
Not Plato these, nor Aristotle found;
Nor he whose wisdom oracles renown'd.
Hast thou a wit so deep, or so sublime,
Or canst thou lower dive, or higher climb;
Canst thou by reason more of godhead know
Than Plutarch, Seneca, or Cicero ?
Those giant wits in happier ages born,
When arms and arts did Greece and Rome
adorn,
If sheep and oxen could atone for men,
Ah! at how cheap a rate the rich might sis!
And great oppressors might Heaven's wrath
beguile,
By offering his own creatures for a spoil!
Dar'st thou, poor worm, offend Infinity?
And must the terms of peace be given by thee?
Then thou art justice in the last appeal;
Thy easy God instructs thee to rebel;
And like a king, remote and weak, must take
What satisfaction thou art pleas'd to make.
But if there be a pow'r too just and strong
To wink at crimes, and bear unpunish'd wrong,
Look humbly upward, see his will disclose
The forfeit first, and then the fiue impose;
A mulct thy poverty could never pay,
Had not eternal wisdom found the way,
And with celestial wealth supplied thy store;
His justice makes the fine, his mercy quits the
See God descending in thy human frame;
Th' offended suffering in th' offender's name;
All thy misdeeds to him imputed see,
And all his righteousness devolv'd on thee.
For, granting we have sinn'd, and that th'
offence
Of man is made against Omnipotence,
Some price that bears proportion must be paid;
And infinite with infinite be weigh'd.
See then the Deist lost; remorse for vice,
Not paid; or, paid, inadequate in price:
What farther means can reason now direct,
Or what relief from human wit expect?
That shews us sick; and sadly are we sure
Still to be sick, till Heaven reveal the cure:
If then Heaven's will must needs be under,
stood,
[good,
Which must, if we want cure, and Heaven be
Let all records of will reveal'd be shewn;
With scripture all in equal balance thrown,
And our one sacred book will be that one.
Proof needs not here: for whether we com-
That impious idle superstitious ware
Of rites, lustrations, off'rings which before,
In various ages, various countries bore,
With Christian faith and virtues; we shall find
None answ'ring the great ends of human kiud,
But this one rule of life, that shews us best
How God may be appeas'd, and mortals blest.
Whether from length of time its worth wedraw,
Knew no such system: no such piles could The word is scarce more ancient than the law;
Of nat❜ral worship built on prayer and praise
To one sole God.
Nor did remorse to expiate sin prescribe ;
But slew their fellow-creatures for a bribe :
The guiltless victim groan'd for their offence;
And cruelty and blood were penitence.
Heaven's early care prescrib'd for ev'ry age;
First in the soul, and after in the page.
Or whether more abstractedly we look,
Or on the writers, or the written book,
Whence, but from Heaven, could men unskill'd
in arts,
In several ages born, in sev'ral parts,
Weave such agreeing truths? or how, or why,
Should all conspire to cheat us with a lye ;
Unask'd their pains, ungrateful their advice,
Starving their gain, and martyrdom their price.
If on the book itself we cast our view,
Concurrent heathens prove the story true;
The doctrine, miracles; which must convince;
For heaven in them appeals to human sense;
And tho' they prove not, they confirm the
cause,
When what is taught agrees with nature's laws.
Then for the style, majestic and divine,
It speaks no less than God in ev'ry line;
Commanding words; whose force is still the
As the first fiat that produc'd our frame.
All faiths beside or did by arms ascend,
Or since indulg'd has made mankind theirfriend,
This only doctrine does our lusts oppose,
Unfed by nature's soil, in which it grows;
Cross to our int'rests, curbing sense and sin :
Oppress'd without, and undermin'd within,
It thrives thro' pain; its own tormentors tires;
And with a stubborn patience still aspires.
To what can reason such effects assign
Transcending nature, but to laws divine;
Which in that sacred volume are contain❜d;
Sufficient, clear, and for that use ordain'd?
But stay, the Deist here will urge anew,
No supernat❜ral worship can be true;
Because a gen'ral law is that alone
Which must to all, and ev'ry where be known :
A style so large as not this book can claim,
Nor aught that bears reveal'd religion's name.
'Tis said, the sound of a Messiah's birth
Is gone thro' all the habitable earth;
But still that text must be confin'd alone
To what was then inhabited and known:
And what provisions could from thence accrue
To Indian souls, and worlds discover'd new?
In other parts it helps, that ages past,
The Scriptures there were known, and were
embrac'd
Till sin spread once again the shades of night:
What's that to these who never saw the light?
Of all objections this indeed is chief
To startle reason, stagger frail belief:
We grant, 'tis true, that Heaven from human
Has hid the secret paths of Providence :
But boundless wisdom, boundless mercy, may
Find, ev'n for those bewilder'd souls, a way;
If from his nature foes may pity claim,
Much more may strangers who ne'er heard his
And though no name be for salvation known,
But that of his eternal Son's alone;
Who knows how far transcending goodness can
Extend the merits of that Son to man?
Who knows what reasons may his mercy lead ;
Or ignorance invincible may plead?
Not only charity bids hope the best,
But more the great apostle has express'd :
"That if the Gentiles, whom uo law inspir'd,
By nature did what was by la requir'd,
They, who the written rule had never known,
Were to themselves both rule and law alone:
To nature's plain indictment they shall plead;
And by their conscience be condemn'd or
freed."
Most righteous doom! because a rule reveal'd
Is none to those from whom it was conceal'd.
Then those who follow'd reason's dictates
right
Liv'd up, and lifted high their nat❜ral light;
With Socrates may see their Maker's face,
|| While thousand rubric-martyrs want a place.
Nor does it baulk my charity to find
Th' Egyptian bishop of another mind;
For though his creed eternal truth contains,
"Tis hard for man to doom to endless pains
All who believ'd not all bis zeal requir'd;
Unless he first could prove he was inspir'd.
Then let us either think he meant to say,
This faith, where publish'd, was the only way;
Or else conclude that, Arius to confute,
The good old man, too eager in dispute,
Flew high; and as his Christian fury rose
Damn'd all for heretics who durst oppose.
Thus far my charity this path has tried;
A much unskilful, but well-meaning guide:
Yet what they are, e'en these crude thoughts
were bred,
By reading that which better thou had read.
Thy matchless author's work; which thou my
friend,
By well translating better dost commend;
Those youthful hours which of thy equals
In toys have squander'd, or in vice have lost;
Those hours hast thou to nobler use employ'd,
And the severe delights of truth enjoy'd.
Witness this weighty book, in which appears
The crabbed toil of many thoughtful years,
Spent by thy author, in the sifting care
Of rabbins old sophisticated ware
From gold divine; which he who well can sort
May afterwards make algebra a sport.
A treasure, which if country curates buy,
They Junius and Tremellius may defy;
Save pains in various readings and trauslations;
And without Hebrew make most learn'd quo-
tations.
A work so full with various learning fraught,
So nicely ponder'd, yet so strongly wrought,
As nature's height and art's last hand re-
As much as man could compass, uninspir'd:
Where we may see what errors have been made Both in the copyer's and translator's trade; How Jewish, Popish int'rests have prevail'd, And where infallibility has fail'd.
For some, who have his secret meaning
Have found our author not too much a priest :
For fashion's sake he seems to have recourse
To Pope, and councils, and tradition's force:
But he that old traditions could subdue,
Could not but find the weakness of the new :
If Scripture, tho' deriv'd from heav'nly birth,
Has been but carelessly preserv'd on earth;
If God's own people, who of God before
Knew what we know, and had been promis'd
In fuller terms of heav'n' assisting care,
And who did neither time nor study spare,
To keep this book untainted, unperplex'd,
Let in gross errors to corrupt the text,
Omitted paragraphs, embroil'd the sense,
With vaiu traditions stopt the gaping fence,
Which ev'ry common hand pull'd up with ease,
What safety from such brushwood-helps as
these?
If written words from time are not secur'd,
How can we think have oral sounds endur'd?
Which thus transmitted, if one mouth has
fail'd,
Immortal lyes on ages are entail'd:
If others in the same glass better see,
'Tis for themselves they look, but not for me:
For my salvation must its doom receive,
Not from what others, but what I believe.
Must all tradition then be set aside?
This to affirm, were ignorance and pride.
Are there not many points, some needful sure
To saving faith, that Scripture leaves obscure?
Which ev'ry sect will wrest a sev'ral way;
For what one sect interprets all sects may:
We hold, and say we prove from Scripture
plain,
That Christ is God; the bold Socinian
From the same Scripture urges he's but man.
Now what appeal can end th' important suit?
Both parts talk loudly, but the rule is mute.
Shall I speak plain, and in a nation free
Assume au honest layman's liberty?
I think, according to my little skill,
To my own mother church submitting still,
That many have been saved, and many may,
Who never heard this question brought in
play.
Th' unletter'd Christian, who believes in gross,
Plods on to heav'n, and ne'er is at a loss:
For the strait gate would be made straiter yet,
Were none admitted there but men of wit.
The few by nature form'd, with learning
fraught,
Born to instruct, as others to be taught,
And that some such have been, is prov'd too Must study well the sacred page; and see
If we consider int'rest, church, and gain.
O but, says one, tradition set aside,
Where can we hope for an unerring guide?
For since th' original Scripture has been lost,
All copies disagreeing, maim'd the most,
Or Christian faith can have uo certain ground,
Or truth in church tradition must be found.
Such an omniscient church we wish indeed; 'Twere worth both Testaments; cast in the creed:
But if this mother be a guide so sure
As can all doubts resolve, and truth secure,
Then her infallibility, as well
Where copies are corrupt or fame, can tell ;
Restore lost canons with as little pains,
As truly explicate what still remains :
Which yet no council dare pretend to do;
Unless, like Esdras, they could write it new:
Strange confidence still to interpret true,
Yet not be sure that all they have explain'd
Is in the blest original contain'd.
More safe, and much more modest, 'tis to say,
God would not leave mankind without a way:
And that the scriptures, tho' not ev'ry where
Free from corruption, or entire or clear,
Are uncorrupt, sufficient, clear, entire,
In all things which our needful faith require.
Which doctrine, this or that, does best agree
With the whole tenor of the work divine,
And plainliest points to Heaven's reveal'd
design?
Which exposition flows from genuine sense,
And which is forc'd by wit and eloquence.
Not that tradition's parts are useless here;
When gen'ral, old, disint'rested, and clear;
That ancient fathers thus expound the page
Gives truth the reverend majesty of age;
Confirms its force by 'biding ev'ry test;
For best authorities next rules are best.
And still the nearer to the spring we go,
More limpid, more unsoil'd, the waters flow.
Thus first traditions were a proof alone;
Could we be certain, such they were, so known,
But since some flaws in long descent may be,
They make not truth but probability.
E'en Arius and Pelagius durst provoke
To what the centuries preceding spoke.
Such diff'rence is there in an oft-told tale:
But truth by its own sinews will prevail.
Tradition written therefore more commends
Authority, than what from voice descends:
And this as perfect as its kind can be,
Rells down to us the sacred history:
Which from the universal church receiv'd,
Is tried, and after for itself believ'd.
The handers-down, can they from thence infer
A right t' interpret? or would they alone,
Who brought the present, claim it for their
own?
The book's a common largess to mankind;
Not more for them than ev'ry man design'd:
The welcome news is in the letter found;
The carrier's not commission'd to expound.
It speaks itself, and what it does contain
In all things needful to be known is plain.
In times o'ergrown with rust and ignorance,
A gainful trade their Elergy did advance;
When want of learning kept the laymen low,
And none but priests were authoriz'd to know:
When what small knowledge was in them did
And he a god who could but read and spell;
The mother-church did mightily prevail;
She parcel'd out the Bible by retail:
But still expounded what she sold or gave,
To keep it in her power to damn or save.
Scripture was scarce, and as the market went,
Poor laymen took salvation ou content;
As needy men take money good or bad:
God's word they had not, but the priest's they
had.
Yet whate'er false conveyances they made,
The lawyer still was certain to be paid.
In those dark times they learn'd their knack so
well,
That by long ase they grew infallible.
At last a knowing age began to enquire
If they the book, or that did them inspire:
Aud making narrower search they found, tho'
late,
[estate:
That what they thought the priest's was their
Taught by the will produc'd, the written word,
How long they had been cheated on record.
Then ev'ry man who saw the title fair,
Claim'd a child's part, and put in for a share:
Consulted soberly his private good,
And sav'd himself as cheap as e'er he could.
'Tis true, my friend, and far be flatt'ry
hence,
This good had full as bad a consequence :
The book thus put in ev'ry vulgar hand,
Which each presum'd be best could under-
stand,
The commou rule was made the common prey,
And at the mercy of the rabble lay.
The tender page with horny fists was gall'd:
And he was gifted most that loudest bawl'd;
The spirit gave the doctoral degree:
And ev'ry member of a company
Was of his trade and of the Bible free.
Plain truths enough for needful use they
found;
But men would still be itching to expound :
Each was ambitious of th' obscurest place,
No measure ta'en from knowledge, all from
grace.
Study and pains were now no more their care;
Texts were explain'd by fasting and by pray'e:
This was the fruit the private spirit brought;
Occasioned by great zeal and little thought;
While crowds unlearn'd, with rude devotion
warm,
About the sacred viands buz and swarm.
The fly-blown text creates a crawling brood;
|| Aud turns to maggots what was meant for food.
A thousand daily sects rise up and die;
A thousand more the perish'd race supply:
So all we make of Heaven's discover'd will,
Is not to have it, or to use it ill.
The danger's much the same;
If others wreck us, or we wreck ourselves.
What then remains, but waving each ex-
treme,
The tides of ignorance and pride to stem?
Neither so rich a treasure to forego;
Nor proudly seek beyond our pow'r to know :
Faith is not built on disquisitions vain;
The things we must believe are few and plain.
But since men will believe more than they
And ev'ry man will make himself a creed,
In doubtful questions 'tis the safest way
To learn what unsuspected ancients say:
For 'tis not likely we should higher soar
In search of heaven than all the church before;
Nor can we be deceiv'd, unless we see
The Scripture and the fathers disagree.
If after all they stand suspected still,
For no man's faith depends upon his will;
'Tis some relief, that points not clearly known
Without much hazard may be let alone :
And, after hearing what our church can say,
If still our reason runs another way,
That private reason 'tis more just to curb,
Thau by disputes the public peace disturb;
For points obscure are of small use to learn;
But common quiet is mankind's concern.
Thus have I made my own opinions clear;
Yet neither praise expect, nor censure fear :
And this unpolish'd rugged verse I chose,
As fittest for discourse, and nearest prose:
For while from sacred truth I do not swerve,
Tom Sternhold's or Tom Shadwell's rhymes
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