| |
| DAME, said the Panther, times are mended well | |
| Since late among the Philistines you fell. | |
| The Toils were pitch’d, a spacious tract of ground | |
| With expert Huntsmen was encompass’d round; | |
| The Enclosure narrow’d; the sagacious pow’r | 5 |
| Of Hounds, and Death drew nearer, ev’ry Hour. | |
| ’Tis true, the younger Lyon scap’d the snare, | |
| But all your priestly Calves lay strugling there; | |
| As sacrifices on their Altars laid; | |
| While you their careful mother wisely fled | 10 |
| Not trusting destiny to save your head. | |
| For, whate’er Promises you have apply’d | |
| To your unfailing Church, the surer side | |
| Is four fair Leggs in danger to provide. | |
| And whate’er tales of Peter’s Chair you tell, | 15 |
| Yet, saving Reverence of the Miracle, | |
| The better luck was yours to ’scape so well. | |
| As I remember, said the sober Hind, | |
| Those Toils were for your own dear self design’d, | |
| As well as me; and with the self same throw, | 20 |
| To catch the Quarry and the Vermin too, | |
| (Forgive the sland’rous Tongues that call’d you so.) | |
| Howe’er you take it now, the common Cry | |
| Then ran you down for your rank Loyalty; | |
| Besides, in Popery they thought you nurst, | 25 |
| (As evil tongues will ever speak the worst,) | |
| Because some forms, and ceremonies some | |
| You kept, and stood in the main question dumb. | |
| Dumb you were born indeed; but thinking long | |
| The Test, it seems, at last has loos’d your tongue. | 30 |
| And, to explain what your forefathers meant, | |
| By real presence in the Sacrament, | |
| (After long fencing push’d against a wall,) | |
| Your salvo comes, that he’s not there at all: | |
| There chang’d your faith, and what may change may fall. | 35 |
| Who can believe what varies every day, | |
| Nor ever was, nor will be at a stay? | |
| Tortures may force the tongue untruths to tell, | |
| And I ne’er own’d my self infallible, | |
| Reply’d the Panther; grant such Presence were, | 40 |
| Yet in your sense I never own’d it there. | |
| A real vertue we by faith receive, | |
| And that we in the sacrament believe. | |
| Then, said the Hind, as you the matter state, | |
| Not only Jesuits can equivocate; | 45 |
| For real, as you now the Word expound, | |
| From Solid Substance dwindles to a Sound. | |
| Methinks an Esop’s fable you repeat; | |
| You know who took the Shadow for the Meat; | |
| Your Churchs substance thus you change at will, | 50 |
| And yet retain your former figure still. | |
| I freely grant you spoke to save your Life, | |
| For then you lay beneath the Butchers Knife. | |
| Long time you fought, redoubl’d Batt’ry bore, | |
| But, after all, against your self you swore; | 55 |
| Your former self, for ev’ry Hour your form | |
| Is chop’d and chang’d, like Winds before a Storm. | |
| Thus Fear and Int’rest will prevail with some, | |
| For all have not the Gift of Martyrdom. | |
| The Panther grin’d at this, and thus reply’d; | 60 |
| That men may err was never yet deny’d. | |
| But, if that common principle be true, | |
| The Cannon, 1 Dame, is level’d full at you. | |
| But, shunning long disputes, I fain wou’d see | |
| That wond’rous Wight, infallibility. | 65 |
| Is he from Heav’n this mighty Champion come | |
| Or lodg’d below in subterranean Rome? | |
| First, seat him somewhere, and derive his Race, | |
| Or else conclude that nothing has no place. | |
| Suppose, (though I disown it,) said the Hind, | 70 |
| The certain Mansion were not yet assign’d, | |
| The doubtful residence no proof can bring | |
| Against the plain existence of the thing. | |
| Because Philosophers may disagree, | |
| If sight b’ emission or reception be, | 75 |
| Shall it be thence infer’d I do not see? | |
| But you require an Answer positive, | |
| Which yet, when I demand, you dare not give; | |
| For Fallacies in Universals live. | |
| I then affirm that this unfailing guide | 80 |
| In Pope and gen’ral Councils must reside; | |
| Both lawful, both combin’d; what one decrees | |
| By numerous Votes, the other Ratifies: | |
| On this undoubted Sense the Church relies. | |
| ’Tis true some Doctors in a scantier space, | 85 |
| I mean in each apart contract the Place. | |
| Some, who to greater length extend the Line, | |
| The Churches after acceptation join. | |
| This last Circumference appears too wide, | |
| The Church diffus’d is by the Council ty’d; | 90 |
| As members by their Representatives | |
| Oblig’d to Laws which Prince and Senate gives: | |
| Thus some contract, and some enlarge the space; | |
| In Pope and Council who denies the place, | |
| Assisted from above with God’s unfailing grace? | 95 |
| Those Canons all the needful points contain; | |
| Their sense so obvious, and their words so plain, | |
| That no disputes about the doubtful Text | |
| Have, hitherto, the lab’ring world perplex’d: | |
| If any shou’d in after times appear, | 100 |
| New Councils must be call’d, to make the meaning clear. | |
| Because in them the pow’r supreme resides; | |
| And all the promises are to the Guides. | |
| This may be taught with sound and safe Defence: | |
| But mark how sandy is your own pretence, | 105 |
| Who, setting Councils, Pope, and Church aside, | |
| Are ev’ry Man his own presuming Guide. | |
| The sacred Books, you say, are full and plain, | |
| And ev’ry needful point of Truth contain; | |
| All who can read, Interpreters may be: | 110 |
| Thus though your several Churches disagree, | |
| Yet ev’ry Saint has to himself alone | |
| The Secret of this Philosophick Stone. | |
| These Principles your jarring Sects unite, | |
| When diff’ring Doctors and Disciples fight. | 115 |
| Though Luther, Zuinglius, Calvin, holy Chiefs, | |
| Have made a Battel Royal of Beliefs; | |
| Or like wild Horses sev’ral ways have whirl’d | |
| The tortur’d Text about the Christian World; | |
| Each Jehu lashing on with furious force, | 120 |
| That Turk or Jew cou’d not have us’d it worse. | |
| No matter what dissension leaders make | |
| Where ev’ry private man may save a stake: | |
| Rul’d by the Scripture and his own advice, | |
| Each has a blind by-path to Paradise; | 125 |
| Where driving in a Circle slow or fast, | |
| Opposing Sects are sure to meet at last. | |
| A wondrous charity you have in Store | |
| For all reform’d to pass the narrow Door: | |
| So much, that Mahomet had scarcely more. | 130 |
| For he, kind Prophet, was for damning none, | |
| But Christ and Moyses were to save their own: | |
| Himself was to secure his chosen race, | |
| Though reason good for Turks to take the place, | |
| And he allow’d to be the better man | 135 |
| In virtue of his holier Alcoran. | |
| True, said the Panther, I shall ne’er deny | |
| My Breth’ren may be sav’d as well as I: | |
| Though Huguenots contemn our ordination, | |
| Succession, ministerial vocation, | 140 |
| And Luther, more mistaking what he read, | |
| Misjoins the sacred Body with the Bread; | |
| Yet, Lady, still remember I maintain | |
| The Word in needfull points is only plain. | |
| Needless or needful I not now contend, | 145 |
| For still you have a loophole for a friend, | |
| (Rejoyn’d the Matron) but the rule you lay | |
| Has led whole flocks and leads them still astray | |
| In weighty points, and full damnation’s way. | |
| For did not Arius first, Socinus now | 150 |
| The Son’s eternal god-head disavow, | |
| And did not these by Gospel Texts alone | |
| Condemn our doctrine, and maintain their own? | |
| Have not all hereticks the same pretence, | |
| To plead the Scriptures in their own defence? | 155 |
| How did the Nicene council then decide | |
| That strong debate, was it by Scripture try’d? | |
| No sure to those 2 the Rebel would not yield, | |
| Squadrons of Texts he marshal’d in the field; | |
| That was but civil war, an equal set, | 160 |
| Where Piles with piles, and Eagles Eagles met. | |
| With Texts point-blank and plain he fac’d the Foe: | |
| And did not Sathan tempt our Saviour so? | |
| The good old Bishops took a simpler way, | |
| Each ask’d but what he heard his Father say, | 165 |
| Or how he was instructed in his youth, | |
| And by tradition’s force upheld the truth. | |
| The Panther smil’d at this, and when, said she, | |
| Were those first Councils disallow’d by me? | |
| Or where did I at sure tradition strike, | 170 |
| Provided still it were Apostolick? | |
| Friend, said the Hind, you quit your former ground, | |
| Where all your faith you did on Scripture found, | |
| Now, ’tis tradition joined with holy writ; | |
| But thus your memory betrays your wit. | 175 |
| No, said the Panther, for in that I view | |
| When your tradition’s forg’d, and when ’tis true. | |
| I set ’em by the rule, and as they square | |
| Or deviate from undoubted doctrine there, | |
| This Oral fiction, that old Faith declare. | 180 |
| (Hind.) The Council steered, it seems, a diff’rent course, | |
| They try’d the Scripture by tradition’s force; | |
| But you tradition by the Scripture try; | |
| Pursu’d, by sects, from this to that you fly, | |
| Nor dare on one foundation to rely. | 185 |
| The Word is then depos’d, and in this view | |
| You rule the Scripture, not the Scripture you. | |
| Thus said the Dame, and, smiling, thus pursu’d, | |
| I see tradition then is disallow’d, | |
| When not evinc’d by Scripture to be true, | 190 |
| And Scripture, as interpreted by you. | |
| But here you tread upon unfaithfull ground; | |
| Unless you cou’d infallibly expound. | |
| Which you reject as odious Popery, | |
| And throw that doctrine back with scorn on me. | 195 |
| Suppose we on things traditive divide, | |
| And both appeal to Scripture to decide; | |
| By various texts we both uphold our claim | |
| Nay, often ground our titles on the same: | |
| After long labour lost, and times expence, | 200 |
| Both grant the words and quarrel for the sense. | |
| Thus all disputes for ever must depend; | |
| For no dumb rule can controversies end. | |
| Thus when you said tradition must be try’d | |
| By Sacred Writ, whose sense your selves decide, | 205 |
| You said no more, but that your selves must be | |
| The judges of the Scripture sense, not we. | |
| Against our church tradition you declare, | |
| And yet your Clerks would sit in Moyses chair: | |
| At least ’tis prov’d against your argument, | 210 |
| The rule is far from plain, where all dissent. | |
| If not by Scriptures, how can we be sure, | |
| (Replied the Panther) what tradition’s pure? | |
| For you may palm upon us new for old, | |
| All, as they say, that glitters is not gold. | 215 |
| How but by following her, reply’d the dame, | |
| To whom deriv’d from sire to son they came; | |
| Where ev’ry age do’s on another move, | |
| And trusts no farther than the next above; | |
| Where all the rounds like Jacob’s ladder rise, | 220 |
| The lowest hid in earth, the topmost in the skyes? | |
| Sternly the salvage did her answer mark, | |
| Her glowing eye-balls glitt’ring in the dark, | |
| And said but this, since lucre was your trade, | |
| Succeeding times such dreadfull gaps have made | 225 |
| ’Tis dangerous climbing: to your sons and you | |
| I leave the ladder, and its omen too. | |
| (Hind.) The Panther’s breath was ever fam’d for sweet, | |
| But from the Wolf such wishes oft I meet: | |
| You learn’d this language from the blatant beast, | 230 |
| Or rather did not speak, but were possess’d. | |
| As for your answer, ’tis but barely urg’d; | |
| You must evince tradition to be forg’d; | |
| Produce plain proofs; unblemished authors use | |
| As ancient as those ages they accuse; | 235 |
| Till when ’tis not sufficient to defame: | |
| An old possession stands, till Elder quitts the claim. | |
| Then for our int’rest, which is nam’d alone | |
| To load with envy, we retort your own. | |
| For when traditions in your faces fly, | 240 |
| Resolving not to yield, you must decry: | |
| As when the cause goes hard, the guilty man | |
| Excepts, and thins his jury all he can; | |
| So when you stand of other aid bereft, | |
| You to the twelve Apostles would be left. | 245 |
| Your friend the Wolfe did with more craft provide | |
| To set those toys traditions quite aside: | |
| And Fathers too, unless when reason spent | |
| He cites ’em but sometimes for ornament. | |
| But, Madam Panther, you, though more sincere, | 250 |
| Are not so wise as your Adulterer: | |
| The private spirit is a better blind | |
| Than all the dodging tricks your authours find. | |
| For they who left the Scripture to the crowd, | |
| Each for his own peculiar judge allow’d; | 255 |
| The way to please ’em was to make ’em proud. | |
| Thus with full sails they ran upon the shelf; | |
| Who cou’d suspect a couzenage from himself? | |
| On his own reason safer ’tis to stand, | |
| Than be deceiv’d and damn’d at second hand. | 260 |
| But you who Fathers and traditions take | |
| And garble some, and some you quite forsake, | |
| Pretending church auctority to fix, | |
| And yet some grains of private spirit mix, | |
| Are like a Mule made up of diff’ring seed, | 265 |
| And that’s the reason why you never breed; | |
| At least not propagate your kind abroad, | |
| For home-dissenters are by statutes aw’d. | |
| And yet they grow upon you ev’ry day, | |
| While you (to speak the best) are at a stay, | 270 |
| For sects that are extremes, abhor a middle way. | |
| Like tricks of state, to stop a raging flood, | |
| Or mollify a mad-brain’d Senate’s mood: | |
| Of all expedients never one was good. | |
| Well may they argue, (nor can you deny,) | 275 |
| If we must fix on church auctority, | |
| Best on the best, the fountain, not the flood, | |
| That must be better still, if this be good. | |
| Shall she command who has herself rebell’d? | |
| Is Antichrist by Antichrist expell’d? | 280 |
| Did we a lawfull tyranny displace, | |
| To set aloft a bastard of the race? | |
| Why all these wars to win the Book, if we | |
| Must not interpret for our selves, but she? | |
| Either be wholly slaves or wholly free. | 285 |
| For purging fires traditions must not fight; | |
| But they must prove Episcopacy’s right: | |
| Thus those led horses are from service freed; | |
| You never mount ’em but in time of need. | |
| Like mercenary’s, hir’d for home defence, | 290 |
| They will not serve against their native Prince. | |
| Against domestick foes of Hierarchy | |
| These are drawn forth, to make fanaticks fly; | |
| But, when they see their country-men at hand. | |
| Marching against ’em under church-command, | 295 |
| Streight they forsake their colours and disband. | |
| Thus she, nor cou’d the Panther well enlarge; | |
| With weak defence against so strong a charge; | |
| But said, for what did Christ his Word provide, | |
| If still his church must want a living guide? | 300 |
| And if all saving doctrines are not there, | |
| Or sacred Pen-men could not make ’em clear, | |
| From after-ages we should hope in vain | |
| For truths, which men inspir’d, cou’d not explain. | |
| Before the Word was written, said the Hind, | 305 |
| Our Saviour preached his Faith to humane kind; | |
| From his Apostles the first age receiv’d | |
| Eternal truth, and what they taught, believ’d. | |
| Thus by tradition faith was planted first; | |
| Succeeding flocks succeeding Pastours nurs’d. | 310 |
| This was the way our wise Redeemer chose, | |
| (Who sure could all things for the best dispose,) | |
| To fence his fold from their encroaching foes. | |
| He cou’d have writ himself, but well foresaw | |
| Th’ event would be like that of Moyses law; | 315 |
| Some difference wou’d arise, some doubts remain, | |
| Like those which yet the jarring Jews maintain. | |
| No written laws can be so plain, so pure, | |
| But wit may gloss and malice may obscure; | |
| Not those indited by his first command, | 320 |
| A Prophet grav’d the text, an Angel held his hand. | |
| Thus faith was e’er the written word appear’d, | |
| And men believ’d, not what they read, but heard, | |
| But since the Apostles cou’d not be confin’d | |
| To these, or those, but severally design’d | 325 |
| Their large commission round the world to blow, | |
| To spread their faith they spread their labours too. | |
| Yet still their absent flock their pains did share; | |
| They hearken’d still, for love produces care. | |
| And as mistakes arose, or discords fell, | 330 |
| Or bold seducers taught ’em to rebel, | |
| As charity grew cold or faction hot, | |
| Or long neglect their lessons had forgot, | |
| For all their wants they wisely did provide, | |
| And preaching by Epistles was supply’d: | 335 |
| So, great Physicians cannot all attend, | |
| But some they visit and to some they send. | |
| Yet all those letters were not writ to all, | |
| Nor first intended, but occasional | |
| Their absent sermons; nor if they contain | 340 |
| All needfull doctrines, are those doctrines plain. | |
| Clearness by frequent preaching must be wrought; | |
| They writ but seldom, but they daily taught. | |
| And what one Saint has said of holy Paul, | |
| He darkly writ, is true apply’d to all. | 345 |
| For this obscurity cou’d heav’n provide | |
| More prudently than by a living guide, | |
| As doubts arose, the difference to decide? | |
| A guide was therefore needfull, therefore made; | |
| And, if appointed, sure to be obey’d. | 350 |
| Thus, with due reverence to th’ Apostles writ, | |
| By which my sons are taught, to which, submit, | |
| I think, those truths their sacred works contain | |
| The church alone can certainly explain; | |
| That following ages, leaning on the past, | 355 |
| May rest upon the Primitive at last. | |
| Nor would I thence the word no rule infer, | |
| But none without the church interpreter; | |
| Because, as I have urg’d before, ’tis mute, | |
| And is it self the subject of dispute. | 360 |
| But what th’ Apostles their successors taught, | |
| They to the next, from them to us is brought, | |
| Th’ undoubted sense which is in Scripture sought. | |
| From hence the Church is arm’d, when errours rise, | |
| To stop their entrance, and prevent surprise; | 365 |
| And safe entrench’d within, her foes without defies. | |
| By these all festring sores her counsels heal, | |
| Which time or has discloas’d or shall reveal, | |
| For discord cannot end without a last appeal. | |
| Nor can a council national decide, | 370 |
| But with subordination to her Guide, | |
| (I wish the cause were on that issue try’d.) | |
| Much less the scripture; for suppose debate | |
| Betwixt pretenders to a fair estate, | |
| Bequeath’d by some Legator’s last intent; | 375 |
| (Such is our dying Saviour’s Testament:) | |
| The will is prov’d, is open’d, and is read; | |
| The doubtfull heirs their diff’ring titles plead: | |
| All vouch the words their int’rest to maintain, | |
| And each pretends by those his cause is plain. | 380 |
| Shall then the testament award the right? | |
| No, that’s the Hungary for which they fight; | |
| The field of battel, subject of debate; | |
| The thing contended for, the fair estate. | |
| The sense is intricate, ’tis onely clear | 385 |
| What vowels and what consonants are there. | |
| Therefore ’tis plain, its meaning must be try’d | |
| Before some judge appointed to decide. | |
| Suppose, (the fair Apostate said,) I grant, | |
| The faithfull flock some living guide should want, | 390 |
| Your arguments an endless chase persue: | |
| Produce this vaunted Leader to our view, | |
| This mighty Moyses of the chosen crew. | |
| The Dame, who saw her fainting foe retir’d, | |
| With force renew’d, to victory aspired; | 395 |
| (And looking upward to her kindred sky, | |
| As once our Saviour own’d his Deity, | |
| Pronounc’d his words—she whom ye seek am I.) | |
| Nor less amazed this voice the Panther heard | |
| Than were those Jews to hear a god declar’d. | 400 |
| Then thus the matron modestly renew’d; | |
| Let all your prophets and their sects be view’d, | |
| And see to which of ’em your selves think fit | |
| The conduct of your conscience to submit: | |
| Each Proselyte would vote his Doctor best, | 405 |
| With absolute exclusion to the rest: | |
| Thus wou’d your Polish Diet disagree, | |
| And end, as it began, in Anarchy; | |
| Your self the fairest for election stand, | |
| Because you seem crown-gen’ral of the land; | 410 |
| But soon against your superstitious lawn | |
| Some Presbyterian Sabre wou’d be drawn: | |
| In your establish’d laws of sov’raignty | |
| The rest some fundamental flaw wou’d see, | |
| And call Rebellion gospel-liberty. | 415 |
| To church-decrees your articles require | |
| Submission modify’d, if not entire; | |
| Homage deny’d, to censures you proceed; | |
| But when Curtana will not doe the deed, | |
| You lay that pointless clergy-weapon by, | 420 |
| And to the laws, your sword of justice fly. | |
| Now this your sects the more unkindly take, | |
| (Those prying varlets hit the blots you make) | |
| Because some ancient friends of yours declare, | |
| Your onely rule of faith the Scriptures are, | 425 |
| Interpreted, by men of judgment sound, | |
| Which ev’ry sect will for themselves expound: | |
| Nor think less rev’rence to their doctours due | |
| For sound interpretation, than to you. | |
| If then, by able heads, are understood | 430 |
| Your brother prophets, who reform’d abroad; | |
| Those able heads expound a wiser way, | |
| That their own sheep their shepherd shou’d obey. | |
| But if you mean your selves are onely sound, | |
| That doctrine turns the reformation round, | 435 |
| And all the rest are false reformers found. | |
| Because in sundry Points you stand alone, | |
| Not in Communion join’d with any one; | |
| And therefore must be all the Church, or none. | |
| Then, till you have agreed whose judge is best, | 440 |
| Against this forc’d submission they protest: | |
| While sound and sound a different sense explains, | |
| Both play at hard-head till they break their brains: | |
| And from their Chairs each other’s force defy, | |
| While unregarded thunders vainly fly. | 445 |
| I pass the rest, because your Church alone | |
| Of all Usurpers best cou’d fill the Throne. | |
| But neither you, nor any sect beside | |
| For this high office can be qualify’d | |
| With necessary Gifts requir’d in such a Guide. | 450 |
| For that which must direct the whole must be | |
| Bound in one Bond of Faith and Unity: | |
| But all your sev’ral Churches disagree. | |
| The Consubstantiating Church and Priest | |
| Refuse Communion to the Calvinist; | 455 |
| The French reform’d, from Preaching you restrain, | |
| Because you judge their Ordination vain; | |
| And so they judge of yours, but Donors must ordain. | |
| In short, in Doctrine, or in Discipline | |
| Not one reform’d, can with another join: | 460 |
| But all from each, as from Damnation fly; | |
| No Union they pretend, but in Non-Popery. | |
| Nor, should their Members in a Synod meet, | |
| Cou’d any Church presume to mount the Seat | |
| Above the rest, their discords to decide; | 465 |
| None wou’d obey, but each would be the Guide: | |
| And face to face dissensions would encrease; | |
| For only distance now preserves the Peace. | |
| All in their Turns accusers and accus’d, | |
| Babel was never half so much confus’d. | 470 |
| What one can plead, the rest can plead as well; | |
| For amongst equals lies no last appeal, | |
| And all confess themselves are fallible. | |
| Now, since you grant some necessary Guide, | |
| All who can err are justly laid aside: | 475 |
| Because a trust so sacred to confer | |
| Shows want of such a sure Interpreter, | |
| And how can he be needful who can err? | |
| Then granting that unerring guide we want, | |
| That such there is you stand obliged to grant: | 480 |
| Our Saviour else were wanting to supply | |
| Our needs and obviate that Necessity. | |
| It then remains that Church can only be | |
| The guide which owns unfailing certainty; | |
| Or else you slip your hold, and change your side, | 485 |
| Relapsing from a necessary Guide. | |
| But this annex’d Condition of the Crown, | |
| Immunity from Errours, you disown, | |
| Here then you shrink, and lay your weak pretensions down. | |
| For petty Royalties you raise debate; | 490 |
| But this unfailing Universal State | |
| You shun: nor dare succeed to such a glorious weight. | |
| And for that cause those Promises detest | |
| With which our Saviour did his Church invest: | |
| But strive t’ evade, and fear to find ’em true, | 495 |
| As conscious they were never meant to you: | |
| All which the mother church asserts her own, | |
| And with unrivall’d claim ascends the throne. | |
| So when of old th’ Almighty Father sate | |
| In Council, to redeem our ruin’d state, | 500 |
| Millions of millions, at a distance round, | |
| Silent the sacred Consistory crown’d, | |
| To hear what mercy mixt with Justice cou’d propound. | |
| All prompt with eager pity, to fulfil | |
| The full extent of their Creatour’s will: | 505 |
| But when the stern conditions were declar’d, | |
| A mournful whisper through the host was heard, | |
| And the whole hierarchy, with heads hung down, | |
| Submissively declin’d the pondrous proffer’d crown. | |
| Then, not till then, th’ eternal Son from high | 510 |
| Rose in the strength of all the Deity; | |
| Stood forth t’ accept the terms, and underwent | |
| A weight which all the frame of heav’n had bent, | |
| Nor he Himself cou’d bear, but as omnipotent. | |
| Now, to remove the least remaining doubt, | 515 |
| That even the blear-ey’d sects may find her out, | |
| Behold what heavenly rays adorn her brows, | |
| What from his Wardrobe her belov’d allows | |
| To deck the wedding-day of his unspotted spouse. | |
| Behold what marks of Majesty she brings; | 520 |
| Richer than antient heirs of Eastern kings: | |
| Her right hand holds the sceptre and the keys, | |
| To show whom she commands, and who obeys: | |
| With these to bind or set the sinner free, | |
| With that t’ assert spiritual Royalty. | 525 |
| One in herself, not rent by Schism, but sound, 3 | |
| Entire, one solid shining Diamond, | |
| Not Sparkles shattered into Sects like you, | |
| One is the Church, and must be to be true: | |
| One central principle of unity. | 530 |
| As undivided, so from errours free, | |
| As one in faith, so one in sanctity. | |
| Thus she, and none but she, th’ insulting Rage | |
| Of Hereticks oppos’d from Age to Age: | |
| Still when the Giant-brood invades her Throne, | 535 |
| She stoops from Heav’n and meets ’em half way down, | |
| And with paternal Thunder vindicates her Crown. | |
| But like Egyptian Sorcerers you stand, | |
| And vainly lift aloft your Magick Wand | |
| To sweep away the Swarms of Vermin from the Land. | 540 |
| You cou’d like them, with like infernal Force | |
| Produce the Plague, but not arrest the Course. | |
| But when the Boils and Botches, 4 with disgrace | |
| And publick Scandal sat upon the Face, | |
| Themselves attack’d, the Magi strove no more, | 545 |
| They saw God’s Finger, and their Fate deplore; | |
| Themselves they cou’d not Cure of the dishonest sore. | |
| Thus one, thus pure, behold her largely spread | |
| Like the fair Ocean from her Mother-Bed; | |
| From East to West triumphantly she rides, | 550 |
| All Shoars are water’d by her wealthy Tides. | |
| The Gospel-sound, diffus’d from Pole to Pole, | |
| Where winds can carry and where waves can roll. | |
| The self same doctrin of the Sacred Page | |
| Convey’d to ev’ry clime, in ev’ry age. | 555 |
| Here let my sorrow give my satyr place, | |
| To raise new blushes on my British race; | |
| Our sayling Ships like common shoars we use, | |
| And through our distant Colonies diffuse | |
| The draughts of Dungeons and the stench of stews, | 560 |
| Whom, when their home-bred honesty is lost, | |
| We disembogue on some far Indian coast; | |
| Thieves Pandars, Palliards, sins of ev’ry sort; | |
| Those are the manufactures we export; | |
| And these the Missioners our zeal has made: | 565 |
| For, with my Countrey’s pardon be it said, | |
| Religion is the least of all our trade. | |
| Yet some improve their traffick more than we, | |
| For they on gain, their only God, rely: | |
| And set a publick price on piety. | 570 |
| Industrious of the needle and the chart, | |
| They run full sail to their Japponian Mart; | |
| Prevention fear, and prodigal of fame | |
| Sell all of Christian to the very name; | |
| Nor leave enough of that to hide their naked shame. | 575 |
| Thus of three marks, which in the Creed we view, | |
| Not one of all can be apply’d to you: | |
| Much less the fourth; in vain alas you seek | |
| Th’ ambitious title of Apostolick: | |
| God-like descent! ’tis well your bloud can be | 580 |
| Prov’d noble in the third or fourth degree: | |
| For all of ancient that you had before, | |
| (I mean what is not borrow’d from our store) | |
| Was Errour fulminated o’er and o’er. | |
| Old Heresies condemned in ages past, | 585 |
| By care and time recover’d from the blast. | |
| ’Tis said with ease, but never can be prov’d, | |
| The church her old foundations has remov’d, | |
| And built new doctrines on unstable sands: | |
| Judge that, ye winds and rains; you prov’d her, yet she stands. | 590 |
| Those ancient doctrines charg’d on her for new, | |
| Shew when, and how, and from what hands they grew. | |
| We claim no pow’r, when Heresies grow bold, | |
| To coin new faith, but still declare the old. | |
| How else cou’d that obscene disease be purg’d | 595 |
| When controverted texts are vainly urg’d? | |
| To prove tradition new, there’s somewhat more | |
| Requir’d, than saying, ’twas not us’d before. | |
| Those monumental arms are never stirr’d, | |
| Till Schism or Heresie call down Goliah’s sword. | 600 |
| Thus, what you call corruptions, are in truth, | |
| The first plantations of the gospel’s youth, | |
| Old standard faith: but cast your eyes again, | |
| And view those errours which new sects maintain, | |
| Or which of old disturb’d the churches peaceful reign; | 605 |
| And we can point each period of the time, | |
| When they began, and who begot the crime; | |
| Can calculate how long the eclipse endur’d, | |
| Who interpos’d, what digits were obscur’d: | |
| Of all which are already pass’d away, | 610 |
| We know the rise, the progress and decay. | |
| Despair at our foundations then to strike, | |
| Till you can prove your faith Apostolick; | |
| A limpid stream drawn from the native source; | |
| Succession lawfull in a lineal course. | 615 |
| Prove any Church, oppos’d to this our head, | |
| So one, so pure, so unconfin’dly spread, | |
| Under one chief of the spiritual state, | |
| The members all combin’d, and all subordinate. | |
| Show such a seamless coat, from schism so free, | 620 |
| In no communion joined with heresie: | |
| If such a one you find, let truth prevail: | |
| Till when, your weights will in the balance fail: | |
| A church unprincipl’d kicks up the scale. | |
| But if you cannot think (nor sure you can | 625 |
| Suppose in God what were unjust in man,) | |
| That he, the fountain of eternal grace, | |
| Should suffer falsehood for so long a space | |
| To banish truth and to usurp her place; | |
| That seav’n 5 successive ages should be lost | 630 |
| And preach damnation at their proper cost; | |
| That all your erring ancestours should die | |
| Drown’d in the Abyss of deep Idolatry; | |
| If piety forbid such thoughts to rise, | |
| Awake, and open your unwilling eyes: | 635 |
| God has left nothing for each age undone, | |
| From this to that wherein he sent his Son: | |
| Then think but well of him, and half your work is done. | |
| See how his Church, adorn’d with ev’ry grace, | |
| With open arms, a kind forgiving face, | 640 |
| Stands ready to prevent her long-lost sons embrace. | |
| Not more did Joseph o’er his brethren weep, | |
| Nor less himself cou’d from discovery keep, | |
| When in the crowd of suppliants they were seen, | |
| And in their crew his best-beloved Benjamin. | 645 |
| That pious Joseph in the church behold, 6 | |
| To feed your famine, and refuse your gold; | |
| The Joseph you exil’d, the Joseph whom you sold. | |
| Thus, while with heav’nly charity she spoke, | |
| A streaming blaze the silent shadows broke; | 650 |
| Shot from the skyes; 7 a cheerful azure light; | |
| The birds obscene to forests wing’d their flight, | |
| And gaping graves receiv’d the wand’ring guilty spright. | |
| Such were the pleasing triumphs of the sky | |
| For James his late nocturnal victory; | 655 |
| The pledge of his Almighty patron’s love, | |
| The fire-works which his angel made above. | |
| I saw myself the lambent easie light 8 | |
| Gild the brown horrour and dispell the night; | |
| The messenger with speed the tidings bore; | 660 |
| News which three lab’ring nations did restore; | |
| But heav’ns own Nuntius was arrived before. | |
| By this the Hind had reached her lonely cell, | |
| And vapours rose, and dews unwholesome fell, | |
| When she, by frequent observation wise, | 665 |
| As one who long on heav’n had fix’d her eyes. | |
| Discern’d a change of weather in the skyes. | |
| The Western borders were with crimson spread, | |
| The moon descending look’d all flaming red; | |
| She thought good manners bound her to invite | 670 |
| The stranger Dame to be her guest that night. | |
| ’Tis true, coarse dyet and a short repast, | |
| (She said) were weak inducements to the tast | |
| Of one so nicely bred, and so unus’d to fast; | |
| But what plain fare her cottage cou’d afford, | 675 |
| A hearty welcome at a homely board | |
| Was freely hers; and to supply the rest, | |
| An honest meaning, and an open breast. | |
| Last, with content of mind, the poor man’s Wealth; | |
| A grace-cup to their common Patron’s health. | 680 |
| This she desired her to accept, and stay, | |
| For fear she might be wilder’d in her way, | |
| Because she wanted an unerring guide, | |
| And then the dew-drops on her silken hide | |
| Her tender constitution did declare, | 685 |
| Too Lady-like a long fatigue to bear, | |
| And rough inclemencies of raw nocturnal air. | |
| But most she fear’d that, travelling so late, | |
| Some evil-minded beasts might lye in wait, | |
| And without witness wreak their hidden hate. | 690 |
| The Panther, though she lent a listening ear, | |
| Had more of Lyon in her than to fear: | |
| Yet wisely weighing, since she had to deal | |
| With many foes, their numbers might prevail, | |
| Returned her all the thanks she could afford; | 695 |
| And took her friendly hostess at her word, | |
| Who ent’ring first her lowly roof, (a shed | |
| With hoary moss and winding Ivy spread, | |
| Honest enough to hide an humble Hermit’s head,) | |
| Thus graciously bespoke her welcome guest: | 700 |
| So might these walls, with your fair presence blest, | |
| Become your dwelling-place of everlasting rest, | |
| Not for a night, or quick revolving year, | |
| Welcome an owner, not a sojourner. | |
| This peaceful Seat my poverty secures, | 705 |
| War seldom enters but where wealth allures | |
| Nor yet dispise it, for this poor aboad | |
| Has oft receiv’d and yet receives a god; | |
| A god, victorious of the stygian race, | |
| Here laid his sacred limbs, and sanctified the place. | 710 |
| This mean retreat did mighty Pan contain; | |
| Be emulous of him, and pomp disdain, | |
| And dare not to debase your soul to gain. | |
| The silent stranger stood amaz’d to see | |
| Contempt of wealth, and wilfull poverty: | 715 |
| And, though ill habits are not soon controll’d, | |
| A while suspended her desire of gold. | |
| But civilly drew in her sharpn’d paws, | |
| Not violating hospitable laws, | |
| And pacify’d her tail and lick’d her frothy jaws. | 720 |
| The Hind did first her country Cates provide; | |
| Then couch’d her self securely by her side. | |
