The Poems of John Byrom :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Lord is my Shepherd, my Guardian, my Guide;
Whatsoever I want He will kindly provide;
Ever since I was born, it is He that hath crown'd
The Life that He gave me with Blessings all round.
While yet on the Breast a poor Infant I hung,
Ere Time had unloosen'd the Strings of my Tongue,
He gave me the Help which I could not then ask;
Now therefore to thank Him shall be my Tongue's Task!

II

Thro' my tenderest Years with as tender a Care
My Soul like a Lamb in His Bosom He bare;
To the Brook He would lead me, whene'er I had need,
And point out the Pasture where best I might feed.

No Harm could approach me; for He was my Shield
From the Fowls of the Air and the Beasts of the Field;
The Wolf, to devour me, would oftentimes prowl;
But the Lord was my Shepherd, and guarded my Soul.

III

How oft in my Youth have I wander'd astray,
And still He hath brought me back to the right Way!
When, lost in dark Error, no Path I could meet,
His Word like a Lantern hath guided my Feet.
What wond'rous Escapes to His Kindness I owe,
When, rash and unthinking, I sought my own Woe!
My Soul had long since been gone down to the Deep,
If the Lord had not watchèd, when I was asleep.

IV

Whensoe'er, at a Distance, He sees me afraid,
He skips o'er the Mountain, and comes to my Aid;
Then leads me back gently, and bids me abide
In the midst of His Flock, and feed close by His Side.
How safe in His keeping, how happy and free,
Could I always remain where He bids me to be!
Yea, blest are the People, and happy thrice-told,
That obey the Lord's Voice, and abide in His Fold!

V

The Fold it is full, and the Pasture is green;
All is Friendship and Love, and no Enemy seen.
There the Lord dwells amongst us upon His own Hill,
With the Flocks all around Him awaiting His Will;

Himself in the Midst with a provident Eye
Regarding our Wants, and procuring Supply;
An Abundance springs up of each nourishing Bud,
And we gather His Gifts, and are fillèd with Good.

VI

At His Voice or Example we move or we stay;
For the Lord is Himself both our Leader and Way.
The Hills smoke with Incense where'er He hath trod,
And a sacred Perfúme shows the Footsteps of God.
While blest with His Presence, the Valleys beneath
A sweet smelling Savour incessantly breathe;
The Delight is renew'd of each sensible Thing,
And beheld in their Bloom all the Beauties of Spring.

VII

Or, if a quite different Scene He prepare,
And we march thro' the Wilderness, barren and bare,
By His wonderful Works we see plainly enough,
That the Earth is the Lord's, and the Fulness thereof.
If we hunger and thirst, and are ready to faint,
A Relief in due Season prevents our Complaint;
The Rain at His Word brings us Food from the Sky,
And Rocks become Rivers, when we are a-dry.

VIII

From the fruitfullest Hill to the barrenest Rock,
The Lord hath made all for the Sake of His Flock;
And the Flock, in Return, the Lord always confess
In Plenty their Joy, and their Hope in Distress.
He beholds in our Welfare His Glory display'd,
And we find ourselves blest in Obedience repaid;
With a cheerful Regard we attend to His Ways;
Our Attention is Pray'r, and our Cheerfulness Praise.

IX

The Lord is my Shepherd,—what then shall I fear?
What Danger can frighten me, whilst He is near?
Not, when the Time calls me to walk thro' the Vale
Of the Shadow of Death, shall my Heart ever fail;
Tho' afraid, of myself, to pursue the dark Way,
Thy Rod and Thy Staff be my Comfort and Stay;
For I know, by Thy Guidance, when once it is pass'd,
To a Fountain of Life it will bring me at last.

X

The Lord is become my Salvation and Song;
His Blessing shall follow me all my Life long.
Whatsoever Condition he places me in,
I am sure 'tis the best it could ever have been.
For the Lord, He is good, and His Mercies are sure;
He only afflicts us in order to cure.
The Lord will I praise, while I have any Breath,
Be content with my Life, and resign'd at my Death!

A THANKSGIVING-HYMN.

I

O come, let us sing to the Lord a new Song,
And praise Him to whom all our Praises belong;
While we enter His Temple with Gladness and Joy,
Let a Psalm of Thanksgiving our Voices employ;
O come, to His Name let us joyfully sing;
For the Lord is a great and omnipotent King:
By His Word were the Heav'ns and the Host of them made,
And of all the round World the Foundation He laid!

II

He plac'd in the Centre yon beautiful Sun
And the Orbs that about him due Distances run;
To receive, as they haste their vast Rounds to complete,
Of a Lustre so dazzling the Light and the Heat.
What Language of Men can the Brightness unfold
Of His Presence, Whose Creature they cannot behold?
What a Light is His Light! Of Its infinite Day
The Sun by his Splendour can paint but a Ray.

III

The Sun in the Evening is out of our Sight,
And the Moon is enlighten'd to govern the Night.
His Power we behold in yon high-archèd Roof,
When the Stars in their Order shine forth in its Proof.
While the Works, so immense, of Thy Fingers we see,
And reflect on our Littleness, Lord, what are we?
Yet, while 'tis our Glory Thy Name to adore,
Even Angels of Heav'n cannot boast any more.

IV

Praise the Lord, upon Earth, all ye Nations and Lands,
Ye Seasons and Times, that fulfil His Commands;
Let His Works in all Places His Goodness proclaim,
And the People who see them give Thanks to His Name!
For the Good, which He wills to communicate, brings
Into visible Form His invisible Things;
Their Appearance may change, as His Law shall ordain,
But the Goodness That forms will for ever remain.

V

What a World of good Things does all Nature produce,
Which the Lord in His Mercy hath made for our Use!
The Earth, by His Blessing bestow'd on its Soil,
By His Rain and His Sunshine, gives Corn, Wine, and Oil.
Let Men to adore Him, then, thankfully join,
When fill'd with His Bread, or made glad by His Wine;
As in Wealth, so in Gratitude, let them abound,
And the Voice of His Praise be heard all the World round!

VI

They that o'er the wide Ocean their Bus'ness pursue,
Can tell to His Wonders what Praises are due.

When, tost to and fro by the huge swelling Wave,
They rise up to Heav'n, or sink down to the Grave;
Dismay'd with the Tempest, that mocks at their Skill,
They cry to the Lord, and He maketh it still.
His Works in Remembrance, ye Mariners, keep,
And praise Him Whose Judgments are like the great Deep!

VII

He stilleth the Waves of the boisterous Sea,
And the Tumults of Men, more outrageous than they.
Thy Goodness, O Lord, let the People confess,
Whom Wars do not waste, nor proud Tyrants oppress;
And devoutly contémplate Thy wonderful ways,
Thou that turnest the Fierceness of Men to Thy Praise!
Then Lands, in due Season, shall yield their Increase,
And the Lord give His People the Blessings of Peace.

VIII

The Lord He is high, far above all our Thought,—
How then shall we worship Him so as we ought?
What Tongue can express, or what Words can shew forth,
The Praise which is due to His excellent Worth?
Ye Righteous, and ye that in Virtue excel,
Begin the glad Task which becomes you so well!
The Lord shall be pleas'd when He heareth your Voice,
And in His own Works shall th'Almighty rejoice.

IX

The Lord hath His Dwelling far out of our View,
And yet humbleth Himself to behold what we do;
To His Works all around Him His Mercies extend;
His Works have no Number, His Mercies no End.
He accepteth our Thanks, if the Heart do but pay;
Tho' we never can reach Him, by all we can say.

How just is the Duty, how pure the Delight,
Since, whilst we give Praises, we Honour Him right!

X

Praise the Lord, O my Soul! All the Pow'rs of my Mind,
Praise the Lord, Who hath been so exceedingly kind;
Who spareth my Life and forgiveth my Sin,
Still directeth the Way that I ought to walk in!
When I speak, let me thank Him; whenever I write,
The Remembrance of Him let the Subject excite;
Guide, Lord, to Thy Glory my Tongue and my Pen;
Yea, let ev'ry Thing praise Thee!—Amen, and Amen!

A HYMN ON THE DIVINE OMNIPRESENCE.

I

O lord, Thou hast known me and searchèd me out;
Thou see'st at all Times what I'm thinking about
When I rise up to Labour, or lie down to Rest,
Thou markest each Motion that works in my Breast.

My Heart has no Secrets but what Thou can'st tell;
Not a Word in my Tongue but Thou knowest it well;
Thou see'st my Intention before it is wrought;
Long before I conceive it, Thou knowest my Thought.

II

Thou art always about me, go whither I will;
All the Paths that I take to, I meet with Thee still.
I go forth abroad, and am under Thine Eye;
I retire to myself, and, behold! Thou art by.
How is it that Thou hast encompass'd me so,
That I cannot escape Thee, wherever I go?
Such Knowledge as this is too high to attain;
'Tis a Truth which I feel, tho' I cannot explain.

III

Whither, then, shall I flee from Thy Spirit, O Lord?
What Shelter can Space from Thy Presence afford?
If I climb up to Heav'n, 'tis there is Thy throne;
If I go down to Hell, even there Thou art known;
If for Wings I should mount on the Morning's Swift Ray,
And remain in the uttermost Parts of the Sea,—
Even there, let the Distance be ever so wide,
Thy Hand would support me, Thy right Hand would guide.

IV

If I say, “Peradventure, the Dark may conceal
What Distance, tho' boundless, is forc'd to reveal,”—

Yet the Dark, at Thy Presence, would vanish away,
And my Cov'ring, the Night, would be turn'd into Day.
It is I myself only who could not then see,—
Yea, the Darkness, O Lord, is no Darkness to Thee;
The Night and the Day are alike in Thy Sight,
And the Darkness to Thee is as clear as the Light.

GOD THE ONLY TRUE TEACHER.

A Fragment.

The Lord is my Light; by His Teaching I learn
With a right Understanding His Works to discern.
While I dwell in His Presence, 'tis then that I live,
And enjoy a Content which He only can give.
In all other Things I have labour'd to find
That Truth which might fill an intelligent Mind;
But I labour'd in vain; for it is He alone
That can give me Instruction, and make Himself known.

A PARAPHRASE ON THE LORD'S PRAYER.

Our Father which art in Heaven.

“Father”—to think of His paternal Care
Is a most sweet Encouragement to Pray'r.
“Our Father”—all Men's Father — to remind
That we should love, as Brethren, all Mankind.
“Which art in Heaven”—assures an heav'nly Birth
To all His loving Children upon Earth.

Hallowed be Thy Name.

“Name”—is expressive of a real Thing,
With all the Pow'rs of which it is the Spring.
“Thy Name”—is therefore to be understood:
“Thy Blessèd Self, Thou Fountain of all Good.”
“Be Hallowèd—be lov'd, obey'd, ador'd,
By inward Pray'r habitually implor'd.

Thy Kingdom come.

“Kingdom”—of Grace at present, Seed and Root
Of future Glory's everlasting Fruit.
“Thy Kingdom”—not the World's War-shifted Scene
Of Pomp and Show, but Love's all-peaceful Reign.
“Come”—rule within our Hearts, by Grace Divine,
Till all the Kingdoms of the World be Thine.

Thy Will be done in Earth as it is in Heaven.

“Thy Will”—to ev'ry Good that boundless Pow'rs
Can raise, if we conform to it with ours.
“Be done in Earth,”—where Doing of His Will
Promotes all Good, and overcomes all Ill.
“As 'tis in Heav'n,”—where all the Blest above
Serve with one Will the Living Source of Love.

Give us this Day our daily Bread.

“Give us”—implies Dependence, whilst we live,
Not on ourselves, but what He wills to give.
“This Day”—cuts off all covetous Desire
Of more, and more than real Wants require.
Our daily Bread—whatever we shall need,
And rightly use, to make it Ours indeed.

And forgive us our Trespasses.

“Forgive”—betokens penitential Sense,
And Hope for Pardon, of confess'd Offence.
“Us”—takes in all, but hints the special Part
Of ev'ry one, to look to his own Heart.
“Our Trespasses,”—which the forgiving Grace,
By our sincere Conversion, must efface.

As We forgive them that trespass against Us.

“As We forgive,”—because the fairest Claim
To Mercy pray'd for is to shew the same,
And we who pray should all be minded thus
To pardon them—“that trespass against Us.”
Without forgiving, Christ was pleas'd to add,
Our own Forgiveness never can be had.

And lead us not into Temptation.

“Temptation”—rises in this World, the Field
Of Good and Evil, and incites to yield.
“Lead us not into it”—becomes the Voice
Of all, who would not go to it by Choice;
Whose Resignation, mix'd with meek Distrust
Of their own Strength, is more securely just.

But deliver Us from Evil.

“But”—when Temptation will, of coursè, arise,
The Hand that leads can minister Supplies.
“Deliver Us”—instructs the Soul to place
Its firm Reliance on protecting Grace.
“From Evil,”—from the greatest Evil, Sin;
The only one not to be safely in.

For Thine is the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory.

“Thine is the Kingdom,”—the essential Right
To sov'reign Rule and Majesty and Might.
“Thine is the Pow'r”—to bless and to redeem;
All else is weak whatever it may seem.
“Thine is the Glory,”—manifestly found
In all Thy Works, the whole Creation round.

For Ever and Ever.

“For Ever”—from an unbeginning Source
Almighty Love pursues Its endless Course.
Through all its Scenes, Eternity displays
New Wonders to our Heav'nly Father's Praise.
King, Father, Leader, Judge, His Hallow'd Name
Was, is, and ever shall be, still the same

Amen.

“Amen”—is “Truth,” in Hebrew; and “Consent
To Truth receiv'd” by its long Use is meant.
Jesus, Himself the Truth, the Living Way,
The Faithful Witness, teaches us to pray.
Again should we be learning and again,
Till Life becomes a practical “Amen.”

THE COLLECT FOR ADVENT SUNDAY.

A lmighty God, Thy Heavn'ly Grace impart,
And cast the Works of Darkness from our Heart;
Send us Thy Light, and arm us for the Strife
Against all Evils of this mortal Life,
O'er which our Saviour Jesus Christ, Thy Son,
With great Humility the Conquest won:
That, when in Glory our Victorious Head
Shall come to judge the Living and the Dead,
We may thro' Him to Life immortal spring,
Wherein He reigns, the Everlasting King;
The Father, Son, and Spirit may adore,
One glorious God Triune, for evermore!

A HYMN FOR CHRISTMAS DAY.

I

On this auspicious, memorable Morn,
God and the Virgin's Holy Child was born;

Offspring of Heav'n, Whose Undefilèd Birth
Began the Process of redeeming Earth,—
Of re-producing Paradise again
And God's lost Image in the Souls of Men.

II

Adam, who kept not his first State of Bliss,
Render'd himself incapable of this;
Nor could he, with his outward Helpmate Eve,
This pure, angelic, virgin Birth retrieve:
This, in our Nature, never could be done,
Until a Virgin should conceive a Son.

III

Mary, prepar'd for such a chaste Embrace,
Was destin'd to this Miracle of Grace;
In her unfolded the mysterious Plan
Of Man's Salvation, God's becoming Man;
His Power, with her Humility combin'd,
Produc'd the Sinless Saviour of Mankind.

IV

The Height and Depth of such Amazing Love
Nor can we measure, nor the Blest above;
Its Truth whoever reasons right will own:
Man never could be sav'd by Man alone;
Salvation is, if rightly we define,
Union of Human Nature with Divine.

V

What Way to this, unless it had been trod
By the new Birth of an Incarnate God?

Birth of a Life, That triumphs over Death,
A Life inspir'd by God's Immortal Breath;
For which Himself, to save us from the Tomb,
Did not abhor the Virgin Mother's Womb.

VI

O may this Infant Saviour's Birth inspire
Of real Life an humble, chaste Desire;
Raise it up in us, form it in our Mind,
Like the Blest Virgin's, totally resign'd!
A mortal Life from Adam we derive;
We are in Christ eternally alive.

A HYMN FOR THE SAME.

Christians, awake! Salute the happy Morn
Whereon the Saviour of the World was born!
Rise, to adore the Mystery of Love,
Which Hosts of Angels chanted from above;
With them the joyful Tidings first begun
Of God Incarnate, and the Virgin's Son.
Then to the watchful Shepherds it was told,
Who heard th' Angelic Herald's Voice: “Behold!
I bring good tidings of a Saviour's Birth
To you and all the Nations upon Earth;

This Day hath God fulfill'd his promis'd Word;
This Day is born a Saviour, Christ the Lord.
In David's City, Shepherds, ye shall find
The long-foretold Redeemer of Mankind;
Wrapt up in swaddling-clothes, the Babe Divine
Lies in a Manger; this shall be your Sign.”
He spake, and straightway the Celestial Choir
In Hymns of Joy, unknown before, conspire;
The Praises of Redeeming Love they sung,
And Heav'ns whole Orb with Hallelujah's rung.
“God's highest Glory” was their Anthem still,
“Peace upon Earth, and mutual Goodwill!”
To Bethlehem straight th' enlightened Shepherds ran
To see the Wonder God had wrought for Man;
And found, with Joseph and the Blessèd Maid,
Her Son, the Saviour, in a Manger laid.
Amaz'd, the wond'rous Story they proclaim,
The first Apostles of his Infant Fame;
While Mary keeps and ponders in her Heart
The heav'nly Vision which the Swains impart.
They to their Flocks, still praising God, return
And their glad Hearts within their Bosoms burn.

Let us, like these good Shepherds, then, employ
Our grateful Voices to proclaim the Joy;
Like Mary, let us ponder in our Mind
God's wond'rous Love in saving lost Mankind.
Artless and watchful as these favour'd Swains,
While Virgin Meekness in the Heart remains,
Trace we the Babe, who has retriev'd our Loss,
From His poor Manger to His bitter Cross;
Treading His Steps, assisted by His Grace,
Till Man's first heav'nly State again takes Place!
Then, may we hope, th' Angelic Thrones among,
To sing, redeem'd, a glad Triumphal Song.
He That was born upon this joyful Day
Around us all His Glory shall display;
Sav'd by His Love, incessant we shall sing
Of Angels and of Angel-men the King.

ON THE EPIPHANY.

I

Led by the Guidance of a living Star,
The Eastern Sages travell'd from afar
To seek the Saviour, by prophetic Fame
Describ'd to them as “King of Jews” by Name;
Whose Birth to Gentiles worthy of His Sight
Was now declar'd by this angelic Light.

II

To its full Height th' Expectancy had grown
Of what the learnèd Foreigners made known,
When at Jerusalem the sacred News
Was spread by them to Herod and the Jews.
“Where is He born? For by His Star,” they said,
“Thus far to worship Him have we been led.”

III

Herod, who had in his tyrannic Mind
No Thought of Empire but of earthy Kind,
Jealous of this new King of Jewish Tribes,
In Haste assembl'd all the Priests and Scribes;
Where Christ was to be born, was his Demand.
“In Bethlehem,” they said, “in Judah's Land.”

IV

He call'd the Magi privately again,
To learn from them the Time precisely, when
The Star which had conducted them appear'd;
And, having all his wily Questions clear'd,
Bade them to seek the Child, and from the View
Come, and tell him, that he might worship too.

V

They journey'd on to the appointed Place,
Which Jewish Priests from Prophecy could trace,
Cheer'd by the Star's Appearance on the Way,
That pointed where the Infant Saviour lay.

Meekly they stepp'd into His humble Shrine,
And fell to worshipping the Babe Divine.

VI

The Virgin Mother saw them all prefer
Their Off'rings, Gold, and Frankincense, and Myrrh;
But warn'd of God, His Father, in a Dream,
They disappointed Herod's murd'rous Scheme;
And, having seen the Object of their Faith,
Sought their own Country by another Path.

VII

Does not Reflexion justly hence arise,
That in the East, so famous for the Wise,
The truest Learning, Sapience and Skill
Was theirs, who sought amidst the various Ill
Which they beheld for that predicted Scene,
That should on Earth commence an heav'nly Reign?

VIII

These true Enquirers into Nature saw
That Nature must have some superior Law,
Some righteous Monarch, for the Good of all,
To rule with Justice this disorder'd Ball;
Their humble Sense of Wants, o'erlook'd by Pride,
Made them so worthy of the Starlike Guide.

IX

We read how, then, the very Pagan School
Was fill'd with Rumours of a Jewish Rule.

Tho' Jews themselves, as at this present Day,
Dreamt of a worldly domineering Sway,
The truly wise, or Jew or Gentile, sought
A Christ, the Object of an happier Thought.

X

They best could understand prophetic Page,
Simple or learn'd, the Shepherd or the Sage;
Their Eyes could see, and follow a true Light,
That led them on from Prophecy to Sight;
Could own the Son, Who by the Father's Will
Should reign a King on Sion's holy Hill.

XI

Of Treasures which the Wise were mov'd to bring,
If Gold presented might confess the King,
Incense to his Divinity relate,
And Myrrh denote his bitter, suff'ring State,—
They offer'd Types of the Theandric Plan
Of our Salvation, God's becoming Man.

XII

In this redeeming Process all concurr'd
To give sure Proof of the prophetic Word;

Jesus, Emmanuel, the Inward Light
Of all Mankind who seek the Truth aright,
Forms in the Heart of all the Wise on Earth
The true Day-Star, the Token of His Birth.

MEDITATIONS FOR EVERY DAY IN PASSION-WEEK.

MONDAY.

God in Christ is all Love.

I

Behold the tender Love of God! Behold
The Shepherd dying to redeem His Fold!
Who can declare it? Worthy to be known,
What Tongue can speak it worthily? His Own.
From His Own Sacred Lips the Theme began,
The glorious Gospel of God's Love to Man.

II

So great, so boundless was It, that He gave
His Only Son,—and for what End?—To save,

Not to condemn. If Men reject the Light,
They, of themselves, condemn themselves to Night;
God in His Son seeks only to display
In ev'ry Heart an everlasting Day.

III

“God hath so shown His Love to us,” says Paul,
“Even yet Sinners, that Christ died for all;”
Peter, that God's All-gracious Aim is this,
By Christ, to call us to eternal Bliss.
Of all th' inspir'd to understand the View,
Love is the Text, and Love the Comment too.

IV

The Ground to build all Faith and Works upon;
For “God is Love,” says the belovèd John,—
Short Word, but Meaning infinitely wide,
Including all that can be said beside;
Including all the joyfull Truths above
The Pow'r of Eloquence, for “God is Love.”

V

Think on the Proof that John from Jesus learn'd:
“In this was God's Amazing Love discern'd,
Because He sent His Son to us, that we

Might live thro' Him!” How plain it is to see
That, if in this, in ev'ry other Fact,
Where God is Agent, Love is in the Act;

VI

Essential Character (whatever word
Of diff'rent Sound in Scripture has occurr'd)
Of all that is ascrib'd to God, of all
That can by His Immediate Will befall:
The Sun's bright Orb may lose its shining Flame,
But Love remains unchangeably the same.

TUESDAY.

How Christ quencheth the Wrath of God in us.

I

The Saviour died, according to our Faith,
To quench, atone, or pacify a Wrath.
But “God is Love;” He has no Wrath His Own;
Nothing in Him to quench or to atone.
Of all the Wrath that Scripture has reveal'd,
The poor fall'n Creature wanted to be heal'd.

II

God, of His own pure Love, was pleas'd to give
The Lord of Life, that thro' Him it might live,—

Thro' Christ; because none other could be found
To heal the human Nature of its Wound.
This great Physician of the Soul had, sure,
In Him, Who gave Him, no Defect to cure.

III

He did, He suffer'd ev'ry Thing, that we
From Wrath, by Sin enkindled, might be free,—
The Wrath of God in us, that is, the Fire
Of burning Life without the Love-Desire,
Without the Light which Jesus came to raise,
And change the wrath into a joyful Blaze.

IV

The Wrath is God's, but in Himself unfelt;
As Ice and Frost are His, and Pow'r to melt.
Not even Man could any Wrath, as such,
Till he had lost his first Perfection, touch;
God has but One Immutable Good-will,
To bless His Creatures and to save from Ill.

V

Cordial or bitter a Physician's Draught,
The Patient's Health is in his ord'ring Thought;
God's Mercies or God's Judgments be the Name,
Eternal Health is His all-saving Aim.
“Vengeance belongs to God,”—and so it should,
For Love alone can turn it all to Good.

VI

All that in Nature by His Act is done,
Is to give Life, and Life is in His Son.
When His Humility, His Meekness finds
Healing Admission into willing Minds,
All Wrath disperses, like a gath'ring Sore;
Pain is its Cure, and it exists no more.

WEDNESDAY.

Christ satisfieth the Justice of God by fulfilling all Righteousness.

I

“Justice demandeth Satisfaction.”—Yes,
And ought to have it where Injustice is.
But,—there is none in God; it cannot mean
Demand of Justice where it has full Reign:
To dwell in Man it rightfully demands,
Such as he came from his Creator's Hands.

II

Man had departed from a righteous State,
Which he at first must have, if God create.
'Tis therefore call'd “God's Righteousness,” and must
Be satisfy'd by Man's becoming just;
Must exercise good Vengeance upon Men,
Till it regain Its Rights in them again.

III

This was the Justice for which Christ became
A Man, to satisfy Its righteous Claim;
Became Redeemer of the Human Race,
That Sin in them to Justice might give Place.
To “satisfy” a just and righteous Will
Is neither more nor less than to “fulfill.”

IV

It was in God the loving Will that sought
The Joy of having Man's Salvation wrought;
Hence, in His Son so infinitely pleas'd
With Righteousness fulfill'd and Wrath appeas'd—
Not with mere Suff'ring which He never wills,
But with mere Love That triumph'd over Ills.

V

'Twas tender Mercy,—by the Church confess'd,
Before she feeds the sacramental Guest,
Rememb'ring Him Who offer'd up His Soul
“A Sacrifice for Sin, full, perfect, whole,
Sufficient, satisfactory,”—and all
That Words (how short of Merit!) can recall.

VI

And when receiv'd His Body and His Blood,
The Life enabling to be just and good,—

Off'ring available thro' Him alone,
Body and Soul a Sacrifice her own,
From Him, from His,—so, Justice has Its due,
Itself restor'd, not any thing in Lieu.

THURSDAY.

Christ the Beginner and Finisher of the New Life in Man.

I

Dead as Men are in Trespasses and Sins,
Whence is it in them that new Life begins?
'Tis that, by God's great Mercy, Love and Grace
The Seed of Christ is in the Human Race,—
That inward, hidden Man, that can revive
And, “dead in Adam, rise in Christ alive.”

II

Life natural and Life Divine possess'd
Must needs unite, to make a Creature bless'd,—
The first, a feeling Hunger and Desire
Of what it cannot of itself acquire;
Wherein the second entering to dwell,
Makes all an Heav'n that would be else an Hell.

III

As only Light all Darkness can expel,
So was His Conquest over Death and Hell

The only possible, effectual Way
To raise to Life what Adam's Sin could slay.
Death by the falling, by the Rising Man
The Resurrection of the Dead, began.

IV

This Heav'nly Parent of the human Race
The Steps that Adam fell by could retrace;
Could bear the Suff'rings requisite to save;
Could die, a Man, and triumph o'er the Grave.
This for our Sakes Incarnate Love could do;
Great is the Mystery, and greatly true.

V

Prophets, Apostles, Martyrs and the Choir
Of holy Virgin Witnesses conspire
To animate a Christian to endure
Whatever Cross God gives him for his Cure,—
Looking to Jesus Who has led the way
From Death to Life, from Darkness into Day.

VI

Unmov'd by earthly Good or earthly Ill,
The Man Christ Jesus wrought God's Blesséd Will;
Death, in the Nature of the Thing, that Hour
Wherein He died, lost all its deadly Pow'r;
Then, then was open'd, by what He sustain'd,
The Gate of Life, and Paradise regain'd.

FRIDAY.

How the Sufferings and Death of Christ are available to Man's Salvation.

I

With Hearts deep-rooted in Love's Holy Ground
Should be ador'd this Mystery profound
Of God's Messiah suff'ring in our Frame,
The Lamb Christ Jesus—blessed be His Name!—
Dying in this Humanity of ours,
To introduce His own Life-giving Pow'rs.

II

Herein is Love! Descending from His Throne,
The Father's Bosom, for our Sakes alone,
What Earth, what Hell, could wrathfully unite
Of Ills, He vanquish'd with enduring Might;
Legions of Angels ready at Command,
Singly He chose to bear and to withstand:—

III

To bear, intent upon Mankind's Relief,
Ev'ry Excess of ev'ry Shame and Grief,—
Of inward Anguish past all Thought severe,
Such as Pure Innocence alone could bear.
Dev'lish Temptation, Treachery, and Rage,
Naked, for us, did Innocence engage.

IV

Nail'd to a Cross It suffer'd, and forgave;
And show'd the Penitent Its Pow'r to save;

Its Majesty confess'd by Nature's Shock,
Darkness and Earthquake, and the rended Rock,
And opening Graves,—the Prelude to that Pow'r
Which rose in Suff'ring Love's momentous Hour.

V

No other Pow'r could save, but Jesus can;
The Living God was in the Dying Man;
Who, perfected by Suff'rings, from the Grave
Rose in the Fulness of all Pow'r to save,
With that one blesséd Life of God to fill
The vacant Soul that yieldeth up its Will.

VI

To learn is ev'ry pious Christian's Part
From his great Master this most Holy Art;
This our high Calling, Privilege, and Prize:
With Him to suffer, and with Him to rise,—
To live,—to die,—meek, patient, and resign'd
To God's good Pleasure with a Christ-like Mind.

SATURDAY.

How Christ by his Death overcame Death.

I

Jesus is crucified,—the previous Scene
Of our Salvation and His glorious Reign—.
Mysterious Process,—though by Nature's Laws,

Such an Effect demanded such a Cause;
For none but He could form the grand Design,
And raise anew the human Life Divine!

II

No less a Mystery can claim Belief
Than what belongs to our Redeeming Chief.
Divine and Supernatural indeed
The Love that mov'd the Son of God to bleed;
But what He was and did, in each Respect,
Was real Cause producing its Effect.

III

Children of Adam needs must share his Fall,
Children of Christ can re-inherit All.
This was the One, and therefore Chosen, Way
For Love to manifest its full Display.
Absurd the Thought of arbitrary Plans;
Nature's one, true Religion this,—and Man's!

IV

All that we know of God, and Nature too,
Proves the Salvation of the Gospel true;
Where all unites in One Consistent Whole,
The Life of God renew'd within the Soul,—
Renew'd by Christ: He only could restore
The Heav'n in Man to what it was before;

V

Could raise God's Image, clos'd in Death by Sin,
And raise Himself, the Light of Life, therein,—

The One Same Light that makes angelic Bliss;
That spreads an Heav'n thro' Nature's whole Abyss,—
The Light of Nature, and the Light of Men,
That gives the Dead His Pow'r to live again.

VI

“The Way, the Truth, the Life,”—whatever Terms
Preferr'd, 'tis Him that ev'ry Good affirms
The One True Saviour; all is Dung and Dross
In saving Sense, but Jesus and His Cross.
All Nature speaks, all Scripture answers thus:
“Salvation is the Life of Christ in us.”

EASTER COLLECT.

Almighty God, Whose Blessèd Will was done
By Jesus Christ, our Lord, Thine Only Son,—
Death overcome, and open'd unto Men
The Gate of everlasting Life again,—
Grant us, baptis'd into His Death, to die
To all Affections but to Things on high;
That when, by Thy preventing Grace, we find
The good Desires to rise within our Mind,
Our Wills may tend as Thine shall still direct,
And bring the good Desires to good Effect
Thro' Him, the One Redeemer from the Fall,
Who liv'd and died and rose again for all!

EASTER DAY.

I

The Morning dawns; the third approaching Day
Can only show the Place where Jesus lay.
Angels descend:—“Remember what He said!
He is not here, but risen from the dead:
‘Betray'd into the Hands of sinful Men,
The Son of Man must die, and rise again.’”

II

So sang the Prophets ever since the Fall;
Of Rites ordain'd the Meaning this thro' all.
This, by the various Sacrifice of old,
Memorial Type and Shadow, was foretold;

Even false worship, careless what it meant,
Gave to this Truth an ignorant Consent.

III

Christ is the Sum and Substance of the whole
That God has done or said to save a Soul,
To raise himself a Church; when that is done,
The World becomes the Kingdom of his Son,
An Heav'n restor'd to the redeem'd, the born
Of Him Who rose on this auspicious Morn.

IV

He That was dead, in order to restore,
Behold, He is alive for evermore,—
An heav'nly Adam, full empow'rd to give
The Life that Men were first designed to live;
Fountain of Life, come whosoever will
To quench his Thirst, and freely take his Fill!

V

Mankind in Him are Life's predestin'd Heirs,
His rising Glories the First-fruits of theirs.
Hearts that renounce the Slavery to Sin,
Feel of His Pow'r the living Warmth within,
Of strength'ning Faith, of joyous Hope possest
And Heav'n-producing Love within the Breast,—

VI

The Breast,—the Temple of the Holy Ghost,
When once enliven'd by this heav'nly Host.
His Resurrection, the sure Proof of ours,
Will there exert His Death-destroying Pow'rs;
Till all his Sons shall meet before His Throne
In glorious Bodies, fashion'd like His Own.

AN HYMN FOR EASTER DAY.

I.

The Lord is risen! He who came
To suffer Death, and conquer too,
Is risen! Let our Song proclaim
The Praise to Man's Redeemer due:—

To Him Whom God in tender Love,
Always alike to bless inclin'd,
Sent to redeem us from above;
To save, to sanctify Mankind!

Chorus.

Worthy of all Pow'r and Praise
HE Who died and rose again,
Lamb of GOD, and slain to raise
MAN, to Life redeem'd!—Amen.

II.

That Life which Adam ceas'd to live,
When to this World he turn'd his Heart,
And to his Children could not give,
The Second Adam can impart.

We, on our earthly Parent's Side,
Could but receive a Life of Earth;
The Lord from Heaven, He liv'd, and died,
And rose, to give us Heav'nly Birth.

Cho.

Worthy of all Pow'r and Praise, &c.

III.

This mortal Life, this living Death,
Shows that in Adam we all die;
In Christ we have Immortal Breath
And Life's Unperishing Supply.

HE took our Nature, and sustain'd
The Mis'ries of its sinful State;
Sinless Himself, for Us regain'd
To Paradise an Open Gate.

Cho.

Worthy of all Pow'r and Praise, &c.

IV.

As Adam rais'd a Life of Sin,
So Christ, the Serpent-bruising Seed,
By God's Appointment could begin
The Birth in Us of Life indeed.

He did begin, Parental Head;—
As Adam fell, so Jesus stood;
Fulfill'd all Righteousness, and said,
“'Tis finish'd!” on the Sacred Wood.

Cho.

Worthy of all Pow'r and Praise, &c.

V.

Finish'd His Work, to quench the Wrath
That Sin had brought on Adam's Race;
To pave the Sole and Certain Path
From Nature's Life to that of Grace!

For Joy of this, God's Only Son
Endur'd the Cross, despis'd the Shame,
And gave the Victory so won,
For imitating Love to claim.

Cho.

Worthy of all Pow'r and Praise, &c.

VI.

To tread the Path that Jesus trod,
Aided by Him, be our Employ;
To die to Sin, and live to God,
And yield him the fair-purchas'd Joy;

To all the Laws that Love has made
Stedfast, unshaken to attend!—
He died, He rose, Himself our Aid,
“Lo! I am with you to the End.”

Chorus.

Worthy of all Pow'r and Praise
HE who died and rose again,
Lamb of GOD, and slain to raise
MAN, to Life redeem'd!—Amen.

ON WHITSUNDAY.

I

Jesus, ascended into Heav'n again,
Bestow'd this wond'rous Gift upon good Men:
That various Nations, by his Spirit led,
All understood what Galileans said.
He gave the Word, Who form'd the list'ning Ear,
And Truth became in ev'ry Language clear.

II

One Country's Tongue, to His Apostles known,
To ev'ry pious Soul became its own;

The well-dispos'd, from all the World around,
With holy Wonder, heard the Gospel-Sound,
Their Hearts prepar'd to hear it; God's Command
No Obstacle in Nature could withstand.

III

Nature itself, if ev'ry Heart was right,
All jarring Languages would soon unite.
Her's is but one, intelligible Guide;
But Tongues are numberless, where Hearts divide.
The Babel-Projects bring them to their Birth,
And scatter Discord o'er the Face of Earth.

IV

The Prince of Peace now sending from above
His Holy Spirit of Uniting Love,
By Its Miraculous Effusion show'd,
How great a Pow'r He promis'd and bestow'd,—
Pow'r to reverse Confusion, and impart
One living Word to ev'ry honest Heart.

V

Deaf to its Influence the Wicked stood,
And mock'd the just Amazement of the Good,
For want of Sense ascribing to new Wine
Their joint Acknowledgments of Grace Divine.
The World's devout Epitome was taught,
And hid from Pride the Miracle, when wrought;—

VI

Known to the Meek, but from the Worldly-Wise,
From Scoffers, hid the wonderful Supplies
Of God's good Spirit, now as near to Men
Whose Hearts are open to the Truth as then.
Blest, in all Climates, all Conditions, they
Who hear this inward Teacher and obey!

ON TRINITY SUNDAY.

I

Co-equal Trinity was always taught
By the Divines most fam'd for pious Thought.
The Men of Learning fill'd, indeed, the Page
With dissonant Disputes, from Age to Age;
But with themselves, so far as one can read,
About their Schemes are not at all agreed,
When they oppos'd, by Reason or by Wrath,
This grand Foundation of the Christian Faith.

II

For what more fundamental Point, or grand,
Than our ascending Saviour's own Command:
“Go and baptise all Nations in the Name”—
Of Whom, or What? (For thence the surest Aim
Of Christian Doctrine must appear the most)—
“The Name of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost?”
Our Lord's Interpretation here we see,
Of, “Thou shalt have no other Gods but Me.”

III

For can the Phrase, so Highly Sacred, show
The Name of God to be omitted? No!
By its essential Trinity exprest,
It show'd what Faith Christ will'd to be profest.
One God the Jews had own'd, and one Supreme,
With others lower, was the Pagan Theme;
How One was true, and how Supreme profan'd,
Our Lord's baptismal Ordinance explain'd.

IV

The One Divinity of Father, Son,
And Spirit, teaches Christian Thought to shun
Both pagan and rabbinical Mistake,
And understood what holy Prophets spake
Or in the Ancient Writings or the New,
To which this Doctrine is the sacred Clue;
That so conducts us to the saving Plan
Of true Religion as no other can.

V

For, were the Son's Divinity denied,
The Father's must, of course, be set aside,
Or be a dark one.—How can It be Bright,
But by Its own Eternal, Inborn Light?
The Glory of the Father is the Son,
Of all His Powers begotten, or begun,
From all Eternity; take Son away,
And what the Father can delight in, say!

VI

The Love, Paternally Divine, implies
Its proper Object whence It must arise,
That is, the Son; and so the Filial, too,
Implies Paternal Origin in View;
And hence the third distinctly glorious Tie
Of Love, which Both are animated by.
All is one God, but He contains Divine,
Living Relations, evidently Trine.

VII

So far from hurting Unity, that hence
The Fulness rises of Its perfect Sense,
And ev'ry barren, spiritless Dispute
Against Its Truth is pluck'd up by the Root.
The Faith is solid to repose upon:
Father, Word, Spirit, Undivided One;
By Whom Mankind, of Threefold Life possest,
Can live and move and have its Being blest;—

VIII

Not by Three Gods,—or One supremely great
With two Inferiors,—or the wild Conceit
“God, Michael, Gabriel,”—or aught else, devis'd
For Christians in no Creature's Name baptis'd;

But of the whole inseparable Three
Whose Fertile Oneness causes all to be,
And makes an Heav'n thro' Nature's whole Abyss
By its Parental, Filial, Spirit Bliss.

ON THE SAME.

I

“One God the Father.”—Certainly, this Term
Does not a barren Deity affirm
Without the Son,—without the Native Light,
By which Its Fiery Majesty is Bright,—
Without the Spirit of the Fire and Flame
Of Life Divine, eternally the same.

II

More One than any Thing beside can be,
Because of Its inseparable Three;

Which Nothing can diminish, or divide,
Tho' it should break all Unity beside.
For This, as self-begetting, self-begot,
And to Itself proceeding, It can not.

III

This total Oneness of Its Threefold Bliss,
Life, Light, and Joy of Nature's vast Abyss,
No Tongue so well can utter; but the Mind
That seeks for somewhat to object, may find
No End of Questions, if we must contest
A Truth by Saints of ev'ry Age exprest.

IV

The Church did always, always will, agree
In its one Worship of the Holy Three,—
As taught by Christ, that Unity Divine
Was full and perfect, that is, Unitrine.
He said: “Baptise all Nations, and proclaim
Of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, the Name!”

V

The “Holy! Holy! Holy!” of the Host
Of Heav'n is Father, Son, and Holy Ghost;
Not “Holy! Holier!” and “Holiest!”
But One Tri-une, Same Holiness confest,—
One God, One Loving and Belovèd Love,
On Earth below ador'd, in Heav'n above.—

VI

One Living Fulness of all Perfect Good,
Its own Essential Fountain, Stream and Flood.
And when, according to the Christian Creed,
Men worship God in Spirit, Word, and Deed,
Faith, Hope, and Love's Triunity of Grace
Will find in their true, single Heart a Place.

ATHEISM THE ONLY GROUND OF DISCONTENT.

If Reason does each private Person bind
To seek the public Welfare of Mankind;
If this be Justice and the Sacred Law
That guards the Good and keeps the Bad in Awe;
If this great Law but op'rates to fulfil
One Vast Almighty Being's Righteous Will;
And if He Only, as we all maintain,
Does all Things rule and all Events ordain:—
Then, Reason bids each private Man t' assent
That none but Atheists can be discontent.

A CAUTION AGAINST DESPAIR.

I

Despair is a cowardly Thing,
And the Spirit suggesting it bad;
In spite of my Sins I will sing,
That Mercy is still to be had.

II

For He that has shown it so far,
As to give me a sensible Heart,
How heinous soever they are,
Delights in the merciful Part.

III

By Affliction, so heavy to bear,
He searches the Wound He would cure;
'Tis His to be kindly severe,
'Tis mine by His Grace to endure.

IV

O comfort thyself in His Love,
Poor sinful and sorrowful Soul,
Who came, and still comes, from above
To the Sick that would fain be made whole!

V

Who said, and continues to say,
In the Deep of a penitent Breast:
“Come, Sinner, to Me come away:
I'll meet thee, and bring thee to Rest.”

VI

A Refusal to come is absurd;
I'll put myself under his Care;
I'll believe His Infallible Word,
And never, no, never despair.

A PENITENTIAL SOLILOQUY.

I

What tho' no Objects strike upon the Sight,—
Thy Sacred Presence is an inward Light.
What tho' no Sounds should penetrate the Ear,—

To list'ning Thought the Voice of Truth is clear.
Sincere Devotion needs no outward shrine:
The Centre of an humble Soul is Thine.

II

There may I worship, and there may'st Thou place
Thy Seat of Mercy and Thy Throne of Grace;
Yea, fix, if Christ my Advocate appear,
The dread Tribunal of Thy Justice there!
Let each vain Thought, let each impure Desire
Meet in Thy Wrath with a consuming Fire!

III

Whilst the kind Rigours of a righteous Doom
All deadly Filth of selfish Pride consume,
Thou, Lord, can'st raise, tho' punishing for Sin,
The Joys of peaceful Penitence within.
Thy Justice and Thy Mercy both are sweet
That make our suff'rings and Salvation meet.

IV

Befall me, then, whatever God shall please!
His Wounds are healing, and His Griefs give Ease;
He, like a true Physician of the Soul,
Applies the Med'cine that may make it whole.
I'll do, I'll suffer whatsoe'er He wills:
I see His Aim thro' all these transient Ills.

V

'Tis to infuse a salutary Grief,
To fit the Mind for absolute Relief,

That, purg'd from ev'ry false and finite Love,
Dead to the World, alive to Things above,
The Soul may rise, as in its first-form'd Youth,
And worship God “in Spirit and in Truth.”

FOR THE DUE IMPROVEMENT OF A FUNERAL SOLEMNITY.

I

A round the Grave of a departed Friend
If due Concern has prompted to attend,
Deep on our Minds let the affecting Scenes
Imprint the Lesson which Attendance means;
For who can tell how soon his own Adieu
The solemn Service may for Him renew?

II

“He that believes on Me” (what Christ had said
The Priest proclaims) “shall live tho' he were dead.”
To ev'ry Heart This is the gracious Call,
On which depends its everlasting All;
The ever-hoping, -loving, -working Faith
That saves a Soul from Death's devouring Wrath.

III

The patient Job, by such a Faith within
Strength'ning his Heart, could say: “This mortal Skin
Destroy'd, I know that my Redeemer lives.”
In Flesh and Blood, which His Redemption gives,
Job from the Dust expected to arise,
And stand before his God with seeing Eyes.

IV

The royal Psalmist saw this Life of Man,
How vain, how short, at its most lengthen'd Span.
Conscious in Whom the Human Trust should be,
“Truly my Hope,” he said, “is ev'n in Thee,”

And pray'd for its recover'd Strength, “before
He went from hence, here to be seen no more.”

V

The mystic Chapter is rehears'd wherein
Paul sings the Triumph over Death and Sin,—
The glorious Body, freed from earthy Leav'n,
Image and Likeness of the Lord from Heav'n;
For such th' abounding in His Work shall gain,—
“Labour,” we know, “that never is in vain.”

VI

Hence comes the sure and certain Hope, to rise
In Christ; tho' Man, as born of Woman, dies.
True Life, which Adam died to at his Fall,
And Christ, the Sinless Adam, can recall,
By a New, Heav'nly Birth from Him revives,
And breathes again God's Holy Breath of Lives.

VII

A Voice from Heav'n bade hearing John record:
“Blest are the dead, the dying in the Lord!”

In them the Pray'r which Man's Redeemer will'd
That Men should pray, is perfectly fulfill'd.
This perfect Sense the Words that we repeat
Require, to make the pray'd-for Good complete.

VIII

Thanks, then, are due for all the faithful dead,
Departed hence to be with Christ their Head,
And Pray'r unfainting for His: “Come, ye blest;
Come, ye true Children, enter into Rest;
Live in My Father's Kingdom and in Mine,
In Grace and Love and Fellowship Divine!”

VERSES WRITTEN UNDER A PRINT REPRESENTING THE SALUTATION OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN.

I

See represented here, in Light and Shade,
The Angel's Visit to the blessed Maid,—
To Mary, destin'd, when the Time should come,
To bear the Saviour in her virgin womb,—
Explaining to her the mysterious Plan
Of Man's Redemption,—His becoming Man.

II

When ev'ry previous Wonder had been done,
The Virgin then was to conceive a Son;
And, to prepare her for the grand Event,
From God His Father Gabriel was sent,
To hail the chosen Organ of His Birth,—
Of “God with us,” of Jesus upon Earth.

III

Unable to express celestial Things,
Imagination adds expanded Wings

To human Form exact and beauteous Face
Which Angels have, but with angelic Grace,
Free from all Grossness and Defect, nor seen
But with a pure chaste Eye, Divinely keen.

IV

Such Mary's was, whose Posture here design'd
The most profound Humility of Mind,
Modestly asking how the Thing could be,
And saying, when inform'd of God's Decree:
“Behold the Handmaid of the Lord! His Will
Let Him, according to thy Word, fulfill!”

V

What fair Instruction may the Scene impart
To them who look beyond the Painter's Art!
Who in th' angelic Message from above
See the Revealing of God's Gracious Love
To ev'ry Soul that yields itself to all
That pleases Him, whatever may befall!

VI

Whatever Circumstance of heav'nly Grace
Might be peculiar to the Virgin's Case,

That holy Thing that saves a Soul from Sin
Of God's good Spirit must be born within;
For all Salvation is, upon the whole,
The Birth of Jesus in the human Soul.

VERSES WRITTEN UNDER A PRINT REPRESENTING CHRIST IN THE MIDST OF THE DOCTORS.

I

Engag'd amidst the Doctors, here behold
In deep Discourse a Child of twelve Years old;
Who show'd, whatever Question they preferr'd,
A Wisdom That astonish'd all who heard,
And found in asking or in answ'ring Youth
Of Age so Tender such a Force of Truth!

II

Observe His Mild, but Penetrating Look;
Those bearded Sages poring o'er their Book;
That meek old Priest, with placid Face of Joy;
That pharisaic Frowner at the Boy;

That pensive Rabbi, seeming at a Stand;
That serious Matron, lifting up her Hand!

III

A Group of Heads, as painting Fancy taught,
Hints at the various Attitude of Thought
In diff'rent Hearers, all intent upon
The Wond'rous Graces That in Jesus shone;
Each Aspect witnessing the same Surprise,
From whence His Understanding should arise?

IV

We know, at present, what the learnèd Jew,
Disputing in the Temple, little knew:
That, thro' this Child, in every Answer made
God's Own Eternal Wisdom was display'd;
That their Messiah, then, the Truths instill'd,
Which, grown to Man, He perfectly fulfill'd.

V

We know that His Corporeal Presence then
On Earth, as Man, was requisite for Men;
That, by His Spirit, He is present still,
And always was, to Men of upright Will.
To saving Truth, whatever Doctors say,
His inward Guidance must assure the Way.

VI

Whether His Actions therefore be portray'd
In printed Letter or in figur'd Shade,

The Books, the Pictures that we read or see,
Should raise reflexion in some due Degree,
And serve as Memorandums to recall
The Teacher Jesus in the Midst of All.

HUMILITY.

Profound Humility! Of every grace
That virtue of a God made Man takes place,—
Wise as an old man, simple as a child,
Like a youth courageous, like a suckling mild;

Which is exalted by the deepest fall,
Seeks its own nothingness, and enjoys them all.
Fountain of every pure untainted joy,
Spring of perpetual sweets that never cloy!
True liberty of spirit fills the breast,
With all the riches of Heaven's Kingdom blest.

THE POOR IN SPIRIT.

He that [but] spoke it truly, brother John,
Possesses all beatitudes in one:
True poverty of spirit fills his breast,
With all the riches of Heaven's Kingdom blest.

LESLIE v. BOURIGNON.

True, Leslie was a great divine, but yet
I think he quite mistakes my friend's intent;
And, with submission to so great a name,
His conduct is exceedingly to blame.
What has she done to merit all this rage?
Why, you shall hear. First, here's the title-page
For which this book must be condemned at sight.
What is 't? “'Tis blasphemously called ‘The Light,’”

Says Leslie, “‘of the World.’” Now, cannot I
One jot of blasphemy herein descry;
But great divines can with their learned labours
See further into mill-stones than their neighbours.

PHEBE'S FAN.

I.

What worship is there in the bended knee,
If worldly thoughts transport the mind from Thee?
Will Heaven regard uplifted hands and eyes,
Whilst on the earth the grovelling spirit lies?
If on my person any stander-by
Should cast forgetfully his wandering eye,
Plant at that time such powerful charms therein,
As may convince the mortal for his sin,
That, by reproving looks to me unknown,
He quit my gestures and compose his own!

II.

What, though no sounds shall penetrate the ear!
To listening thought the Voice of Truth is clear.
What, though no object strike upon the sight,
Thy Secret Presence is an Inward Light;
The mind's devotion needs no outward screen:
The centre of [the] humble soul is Thine.
There may I worship, and there may'st Thou place
Thy Seat of Mercy and Thy Throne of Grace!
Yea fix, if Christ our Advocate appear,
The Dread Tribunal of Thy Justice there!
Let each vain thought, let each impure desire,
Meet in Thy Wrath with a consuming fire!
The mind, restored to everlasting youth,
Shall worship Thee in Spirit and in Truth.

TE DEUM.

I

O thou, Whose Powerful Word gave birth
To this vast frame of Heaven and earth;
Father of Angels and Mankind;
Thou Life of every living mind;

At Whose command we sprang from naught,
Conscious and capable of thought;
Just, Good and True in all Thy ways:
Let every creature give Thee praise!

II

Fix'd on Thy Everlasting Throne,
And Happy in Thyself Alone
In Pure Communicative Love,
Thy Spirit [operates] to [prove]
Thy [Mercy] Infinite in Own
Self-executed Orders shown;
And through the deep abyss of space
The beauteous universe takes place.

DENOMINATIONS.

Churchmen are orthodox, Dissenters pure,
But Quakers are God's people to be sure;
The Lutherans follow Evangelic Truth,
But all the Elect are Calvinists, forsooth;
The Baptists only have Regeneration,
While out of them there can be no Salvation.
We form a Church [compacted?] of the seven;—
“Lo, here is Christ! lo, here the way to Heaven!”
Thus do the sons of England, Rome, Geneva,
Adjure by Jesus like the sons of Sceva,—
Wanting the Love that should enforce the Call.
An evil spirit overcomes them all.

FALSE HAPPINESS.

That never can be called true happiness
Which fools admire and wicked men possess.

RESIGNATION.

Behold the secret of the Grace Divine
Involv'd in that mysterious word “Resign!”
In the full meaning of this single sound
Are all Religious duties to be found:
The several virtues which adorn the soul
Unite to form the one substantial whole.

GOD'S LOVE TO MAN.

What is more tender than a Mother's Love
To the sweet Infant fondling in her Arms?
What Arguments need her Compassion move
To hear its Cries, and help it in its Harms?
Now, if the tend'rest Mother were possest
Of all the Love within her single Breast
Of all the Mothers since the World began,—
'Tis nothing to the Love of God to Man!

THE ETERNAL PROMISE OF GOD.

Wholly and solely to rejoice in this:
That God for ever will be what He is!

AN HYMN TO JESUS,

From the French.

I

Come, Saviour Jesus, from above,
Assist me with Thy Heav'nly Grace;
Withdraw my Heart from worldly Love,
And for Thyself prepare the Place!

II

Lord, let Thy Sacred Presence fill
And set my longing Spirit free,
That pants to have no other Will,
But Night and Day to think on Thee!

III

Where'er Thou leadest, I'll pursue
Thro' all Retirements or Employs;

But to the World I'll bid adieu
And all its vain delusive Joys.

IV

That Way with humble Speed I'll walk
Wherein my Saviour's Footsteps shine;
Nor will I hear, nor will I talk
Of any other Love but Thine.

V

To Thee my longing Soul aspires;
To Thee I offer all my Vows:
Keep me from false and vain Desires,
My God, my Saviour, and my Spouse!

VI

Henceforth, let no profane Delight
Divide this consecrated Soul!
Possess it Thou Who hast the Right,
As Lord and Master of the Whole!

VII

Wealth, Honours, Pleasures, or what else
This short-enduring World can give,
Tempt as they will, my Heart repells,
To Thee alone resolv'd to live.

VIII

Thee one may love, and Thee alone,
With inward Peace and Holy Bliss;
And when Thou tak'st us for Thy Own,
Oh, what a Happiness is this!

IX

Nor Heav'n nor Earth do I desire,
Nor Mysteries to be reveal'd;
'Tis Love that sets my Heart on Fire;
Speak Thou the Word, and I am heal'd!

X

All other Graces I resign,
Pleas'd to receive, pleas'd to restore.
Grace is Thy Gift; it shall be mine
The Giver only to adore.

A FAREWELL TO THE WORLD,

From the French.

I

World, adieu, thou real Cheat!
Oft have Thy deceitful Charms
Fill'd my Heart with fond Conceit,
Foolish Hopes and false Alarms.
Now I feel as clear as Day,
How thy Follies pass away.

II

Vain thy entertaining Sights,
False thy Promises renew'd!
All the Pomp of thy Delights
Does but flatter and delude.
Thee I quit for Heav'n Above,
Object of the noblest Love.

III

Farewell, Honour's empty Pride!
Thy own nice, uncertain Gust,
If the least Mischance betide,
Lays thee lower than the Dust;
Worldly Honours end in Gall,
Rise to Day, To-morrow fall.

IV

Foolish Vanity, farewell!
More inconstant than the Wave;
Where thy soothing Fancies dwell,
Purest Tempers they deprave:
He to Whom I fly from thee,
Jesus Christ, shall set me free.

V

Never shall my wandering Mind
Follow after fleeting Toys;
Since in God alone I find
Solid and substantial Joys,—
Joys that, never overpast,
Thro' Eternity shall last.

VI

Lord, how happy is a Heart,
After Thee while it aspires!
True and Faithful as Thou art,
Thou shalt answer its Desires;
It shall see the glorious Scene
Of Thy Everlasting Reign.

AN HYMN, From the French.

I

How charming to be thus confin'd
Within This lovely Tow'r;
Where with a calm and quiet Mind
I pass the peaceful Hour!
Stronger than Chains of any Kind
Is Love's Enduring Pow'r.

II

These very Ills are my Delight;
My Pleasures rise from Pains;
The Punishments that most affright
Become my wish'd-for Gains;
Whatever Torments they excite,
Pure-sighing Love remains.

III

Pain is no Object of my Fear,
Tho' Help is not in View;
Sure as I am, from Evils here
That Blessings will ensue,
To Sov'reign Beauty it is clear
That Sov'reign Love is due.

IV

I suffer, but along with Smart
Is Grace and Virtue sent;
Presence of God, Who takes my Part,
So sweetens all Event.
He is the Patience of my Heart,
The Comfort and Content.

THE DESPONDING SOUL'S WISH.

I

My Spirit longeth for Thee
Within my troubled Breast;
Altho' I be unworthy
Of so Divine a Guest.

II

Of so Divine a Guest
Unworthy tho' I be,
Yet has my Heart no Rest,
Unless it come from Thee.

III

Unless it come from Thee,
In vain I look around;
In all that I can see,
No Rest is to be found.

IV

No Rest is to be found,
But in Thy Blessèd Love;
O let my Wish be crown'd,
And send It from Above!

THE ANSWER.

I

Cheer up, desponding Soul!
Thy Longing, pleas'd, I see;
'Tis Part of that Great Whole
Wherewith I long'd for thee.

II

Wherewith I long'd for thee,
And left My Father's Throne,
From Death to set thee free,
To claim thee for My Own.

III

To claim thee for My Own
I suffer'd on the Cross.
Oh! Were My Love but known,
No Soul could fear Its Loss.

IV

No Soul could fear Its Loss;
But, fill'd with Love Divine,
Would die on its own Cross,
And rise for ever Mine.

AN HYMN TO JESUS,

From the Latin of St. Bernard.

I

Jesu! The Soul that thinks on Thee,
How happy does it seem to be!
What Honey can such Sweets impart,
As does Thy Presence to the Heart!

II

No Sound can dwell upon the Tongue,
Nor Ears be ravish'd with a Song,
Nor Thought by pondering be won,
Like that of God's Belovèd Son.

III

Jesu! The Penitent's Retreat,
The wearied Pilgrim's Mercy-Seat:
If they that seek Thee are caress'd,
How are the Finders of Thee blest!

IV

Jesu! the Source of Life and Light,
That mak'st the Mind so blest and bright;
Fulness of Joy Thou dost inspire
Beyond the Stretch of all Desire.

V

This can no Tongue that ever spoke
Nor Hand express by figur'd Stroke;
It is Experience that must prove
The Pow'r of Jesus and His Love.

ARMELLE NICOLAS' ACCOUNT OF HERSELF.

From the French.

I

“To the God of my Love, in the Morning,” said she,
Like a Child to its Parent, when waking, I flee;
With a Longing to serve Him and please Him, I rise,
And before Him kneel down, as if seen by these Eyes;

I resign up myself to His Absolute Will,
Which I beg that in me He would always fulfil;
That the Pray'rs of the Day, by whomever preferr'd,
For the Good of each Soul may be also thus heard.

II

“If, oblig'd to attend on some household Affair,
I have scarce so much Time as to say the Lord's Pray'r,
This gives me no Trouble: my dutiful Part
Is Obedience to Him Whom I have at my Heart
As well at my Work as retiring to pray;
And His Love does not suffer in mine a Decay:
He has taught me Himself, that a Work which I do
For His Sake is a Pray'r very real and true.

III

“I dress in His Presence, and learn to confess
That His Provident Kindness supplies me with Dress.
In the midst of all outward Employment I find
A Conversing with Him of an intimate Kind.

How sweet is the Labour! His Loving Regard
So supporting one's Mind, that it thinks nothing hard;
While the Limbs are at Work, in the seeking to please
So Belov'd a Companion, the Mind is at Ease.

IV

“In His Presence I eat and I drink, and reflect
How Food of His Gift is the growing Effect;
How His Love to my Soul is so great and so good,
Just as if it were fed by His own Flesh and Blood.
What a Virtue this Feeder, His Meat, and His Drink
Has to kindle one's Heart, I must leave you to think.
He alone can express it; no Language of mine,
Were my Life spent in speaking, could ever define.

V

“When, perhaps, by hard Usage or Weariness prest,
I myself am too apt to be fretful at best,
Love shows me forthwith how I ought to take Heed
Not to nurse the least Anger by Word or by Deed;

And He sets such a Watch at the Door of my Lips,
That of hasty cross Words there is nothing that slips.
Such irregular Passions as seek to surprise,
Are crush'd and are conquer'd, as soon as they rise.

VI

“Or, if e'er I give Place to an Humour so bad,
My Mind has no Rest till Forgiveness be had;
I confess all my Faults, as if He had not known,
And my Peace is renew'd by a Goodness His Own
In a Manner so free as if, after my Sin,
More strongly confirm'd than before it had been.
By a Mercy so Tender my Heart is reclaim'd,
And the more to love Him by its Failing inflam'd.

VII

“Sometimes I perceive that He hideth His Face,
And I seem like a Person depriv'd of all Grace.
Then I say: ‘'Tis no Matter; altho' Thou conceal
Thyself as Thou pleasest, I'll keep to my Zeal;
I'll love Thee, and serve Thee, however this Rod
May be sent to chastise, for I know Thou art God.’

And with more Circumspection I stand upon Guard,
Till of such a Great Blessing no longer debarr'd.

VIII

“But a Suff'ring so deep having taught me to try
What I am in my Selfhood, I learn to rely
More firmly on Him Who was pleas'd to endure
The severest Extremes, to make way for our Cure.
To conform to His Pattern, as Love shall see fit,
My Faith in the Saviour resolves to submit;
For no more than my Self (if the Word may go free)
Can I live without Him, can He help loving me.

IX

“Well assur'd of His Goodness I pass the whole Day,
And my Work, hard or easy, is felt as a Play;
I am thankful in Feelings, but, Pleasure or Smart,
It is rather Himself that I love in my Heart.
When they urge me to Mirth, I think, ‘Oh! were it known
How I meet the Best Company when I'm alone!’
To my dear Fellow-creatures what ties me each Hour
Is the Love of my God, to the best of my Pow'r.

X

“At the Hour of the Night when I go to my Rest,
I repose on His Love, like a Child at the Breast;
And a sweet, peaceful Silence invites me to keep
Contémplating Him, to my dropping asleep.
Many Times a good Thought, by its gentle Delight,
Has withheld me from Sleep a good Part of the Night,
In adoring His Love That continues to share
To a poor, wretched Creature so Special a Care.

XI

“This, after my Heart was converted at last,
Is the Life I have led for these twenty Years past.
My Love has not chang'd, and my innermost Peace,
Tho' it ever seem'd full, has gone on to increase:
'Tis an Infinite Love that has fill'd me, and fed
My still rising Hunger to eat of Its Bread,—
So satisfied still, as if such an Excess
Could have Nothing more added than what I possess.”

REFLEXIONS ON THE FOREGOING ACCOUNT.

How full a Proof of Heav'ns All-present Aid
Was good Armelle, a simple Servant-maid!
A poor French Girl, by Parentage and Birth
Of low and mean Condition upon Earth;
By Education ignorant indeed:
She all her Life could neither write nor read.

But she had that which all the Force of Art
Could neither give nor take away,—an Heart,
An honest, humble, well-disposèd Will,
The true Capacity for higher Skill
Than what the World with all its learnèd Din
Could teach. She learn'd her Lesson from within,—
Plain, single Lesson of essential Kind:
The Love of God's Pure Presence in her Mind.
Her artless, innocent, attentive Thought
Was at the Source of all True Knowledge taught.
There she could read the Characters imprest
Upon the Mind of ev'ry human Breast,—
The native Laws prescrib'd to ev'ry Soul,
And Love, the One Fulfiller of the Whole.

This Holy Love to know and practise well
Became the sole Endeavour of Armelle.

Of outward Things the Management and Rule
She wisely took from this internal School.
In ev'ry Work well done by such a Hand,
The Work was servile, but the Thing was grand.
There was a Dignity in all she did,
Tho' from the World by meaner Labours hid,—
If mean below, not so esteem'd above,
Where all the Grand of Labour is the Love.
In vain to boast Magnificence of Scene;
It is all Meanness, if the Love be mean!

TO HIS WIFE.

I

Partner of all my joys and cares,
Whether in poverty or wealth,
For thee I put up all my pray'rs,
Well-heard if answer'd by thy health;

II

Long absence, cruel as it is,
Content still longer to endure

If aught conducive to thy bliss
The tedious torment could procure!

III

Joyous or grievous my employ,
Absence itself would give relief,
Could I but give thee all the joy,
And bear myself alone the grief.

IV

Lost in this place of grand resort,
Though crowds succeeding crowds I see,
Quite from the city to the Court
'Tis all a wilderness to me!

V

Amidst a world of gaudy scenes
Around me glittering I move;
I wander, heedless what it means,
Bent on the thoughts of her I love.

VI

Still I usurp that Sacred Sound,
Too often and too long profan'd;—
When shall I tread the happy ground
Where Love and Truth may be obtain'd?

VII

Let me and my belovèd spouse
With mutual ardour strive to quit

False, earthly, interested vows,
And Heav'n into our hearts admit!

VIII

There let th' endearing hope take place,
Though parted here, to meet above
In a perpetual chaste embrace,
United, Jesu, in Thy love!

AN HYMN ON SIMPLICITY,

From the German.

100

I

Jesu! Teach this Heart of mine
True Simplicity to find,—
Child-like, innocent, Divine,
Free from Guile of ev'ry Kind;
And since, when amongst us vouchsafing to live,
So pure an Example it pleas'd Thee to give;
O let me keep still the Bright Pattern in View,
And be, after Thy Likeness, right simple and true!

101

II

When I read, or when I hear
Truths that kindle good Desires;
How to act, and how to bear
What Heav'n-instructed Faith requires:
Let no subtle Fancies e'er lead me astray,
Or teach me to comment Thy Doctrines away;
No Reas'nings of selfish Corruption within,
Nor Sleights by which Satan deludes us to Sin.

III

Whilst I pray before Thy Face,
Thou Who art my Highest Good,
O confirm to me the Grace
Purchas'd by Thy Precious Blood;
That, with a true filial Affection of Heart,
I may feel what a Real Redeemer Thou art;
And, thro' Thy Atonement to Justice above,
Be receiv'd as a Child by the Father of Love!

IV

Give me, with a Child-like Mind
Simply to believe Thy Word,
And to do whate'er I find
Pleases best my Dearest Lord;
Resolving to practice Thy gracious Commands;
To resign myself wholly up into Thy Hands:
That, regarding Thee simply in all my Employ,
I may cry “Abba! Father!” with dutiful Joy!

102

V

Nor within me nor without
Let Hypocrisy reside;
But whate'er I go about,
Mere Simplicity be Guide!
Simplicity guide me in Word and in Will;
Let me live,—let me die,—in Simplicity still;
Of an Epitaph made me let this be the Whole:
“Here lies a true Child, that was simple of Soul!”

VI

Jesu! Now I fix my Heart,
Prince of Life and Source of Bliss,
Never from Thee to depart,
Till Thy Love shall grant me this!
Then, then, shall my Heart all its Faculties raise,
Both here and hereafter to sing to Thy Praise!
Oh joyful! My Saviour says “So let it be!”
Amen, to my Soul,—Hallelujah, to Thee!

A SIMPLE CONFESSION.

103

Dear Christian brother, I confess
I am a wretched sinner;
If you know more and I know less,
Instruct a young beginner!

AN ENCOURAGEMENT TO EARNEST AND IMPORTUNATE PRAYER.

“And he spake a Parable unto them, to this End, that Men always ought to pray, and not to faint.”—St. Luke, xviii. 1.

I

A blessèd Truth for Parable to paint,
That “Men should always pray, and never faint!”
Just the Reverse of this would Satan say,
That “Men should always faint, and never pray.”
He wants to drive poor Sinners to Despair,—
And Christ, to save them by prevailing Pray'r.

II

The Judge who fearèd neither God nor Man,
Despis'd the Widow when she first began

104

Her just Request; but she, continuing on
The same Petition, wearied him anon;
He could not bear to hear her praying still,
And did her Justice, tho' against his Will.

III

Can Perseverance force a Man unjust
To execute, however loth, his Trust?
And will not God, Whose Fatherly Delight
Is to save Souls, so precious in His Sight,
Hear his own Offspring's persevering Call,
And give the Blessing which He has for all?

IV

Yes, to be sure, He will; the lying “No”
Is a downright Temptation of the Foe,
Who first emboldens Sinners to presume,
As if a righteous Judgment had no Room;
And, having led them into grievous Faults,
With the Despair of Mercy then assaults.

V

Dear Soul, if thou hast listen'd to the Lies
Which, at the first, the Tempter would devise,
Let him not cheat thee with a second Snare,
And drag thee into Darkness by Despair;
Pray against all his Wiles; for God will hear,
And will avenge thee of him, never fear!

105

VI

He gives the Grace to sorrow for thy Sin,
The Sign of kindling Penitence within.
Let not the Smoke disturb thee; for, no doubt,
The Light and Flame will follow, and break out;
And Love arise to overcome Restraint:
That Thou may'st “always pray, and never faint!”

A SOLILOQUY, On reading the 5th and 8th Verses of the 37th Psalm.

“Leave off from wrath, and let go displeasure: fret not thyself, else shalt thou be moved to do evil.”—Psalm xxxvii. 8 (Prayer-book Version.)

I

In Psalm, this Evening order'd to be read,
“Fret not thyself,” the Royal Psalmist said.
His Reason why, succeeding Words instil:
“Or else,” says he, “'twill move thee to do ill.”
Now, tho' I know that Fretting does no Good,
Its evil Movement have I understood?

II

“Move to do Evil.”—Then, dear Soul of mine,
Stir it not up, if that be its Design!
Its being vain, is Cause enough to shun;
But, if indulg'd, some Evil must be done,
And thou, according to the holy King,
Must be the Doer of this evil Thing.

106

III

Men use the ill;—that Fault is theirs alone;
But if thou use thyself ill, that's thy own.
Meekness and Patience is much better Treasure:
Then, “leave off Wrath,” and “let go all Displeasure;”
Tho' thou art ever so ill-treated, yet
Remember David, and forbear to “fret!”

“Commit thy way unto the Lord, and put thy trust in Him: and He shall bring it to pass.”—Ib., v. 5.

“Commit thy Way unto the Lord;”—resign
Thyself entirely to the Will Divine.
All real Good, all Remedy for Ill
Lies in conforming to His Blessèd Will.
By all Advice that Holy Books record,
Thou must “commit thy Way unto the Lord;

V

“And put thy Trust in Him;”—all other Trust,
Plac'd out of Him, is foolish and unjust.
His Loving-Kindness is the only Ground
Where Solid Peace and Comfort can be found.
What other Prospects either sink or swim,
Do thou stand Firm, “and put thy Trust in Him;

VI

“And He will bring thy Way to pass.”—The whole
Of all that thou can'st wish for to thy Soul,
He wills to give it, and thy seeking Mind
By Faith and Patience cannot fail to find.
To Him, whatever good Desire it has,
“Commit and trust, and He will bring to pass!”

107

AN EPISTLE FROM THE AUTHOR TO HIS SISTER,

With the foregoing Soliloquy included.

I

Dear Sister,
If Soliloquy conduce
(Meant, as the Name declares, for private Use)
To your Contentment,—if such Kind of Fruit
Pleases your Taste, you're very welcome to't;
Tho' pluck'd one Day in April from the Ground,
It keeps in Pickle all the Seasons round.

II

'Tis Summer now, and Autumn comes anon;
Winter succeeds, and Spring when that is gone.
But be it Winter, Summer, Autumn, Spring,
To nurture Fretting is a simple Thing;
A Weed so useless to the Use of Reason
Can absolutely never be in Season.

III

Without much Nursing that the Weed will grow,
I wish I had some Reason less to know;

108

Some less to see, how Folly, when it grew
In my own Ground, could cultivate it too,—
Could hedge it round, and cherish, and suppose
That, being mine, the Thistle was a Rose!

IV

You know the Saying, of I know not whom,
“Little Misfortunes serve till greater come;”
And Saying, somewhere met with, I recall,
That “'tis the greatest to have none at all.”
Rare Case, perhaps; they reach, we often see,
All Sorts of Persons,—Him, Her, You, or Me.

V

“This being, then,” Experience says, “the Case,
What Kind of Conduct must a Man embrace?”
My 'Pothecary, as you think, replies:
“Pray take 'em quietly, if you be wise!
Bitter they are, 'tis true, to Flesh and Blood;
But if they were not, they would do no Good.”

VI

One Time, when 'Pothecary Patience found
That his Persuasion got but little Ground,
He call'd in Doctor Gratitude, to try
If his Advice could make me to comply.
“I recommended Patience, Sir,” said he;
“Pray will you speak, for he regards not me.”

109

VII

“Patience! a Custard-Lid!” said Dr. Grat.;
“His Case wants, plainly, something more than that.
'Tis a good Recipe; but Cure is longer
Than it should be. We must have something stronger.
A creeping Pulse!—Bare Patience will not do;
To get him Strength, he must be thankful too.

VIII

“He must consider,”—and so on he went
To show Thanksgiving's marvellous Extent,
And what a true Catholicon it was;
And what great Cures it had but brought to pass;
And how best Fortunes, wanting it, were curst;
And how it turn'd to good the very worst.

IX

Oh! What a deal he said!—And, in the Light
Wherein he plac'd it, all was really right;
But like good Doctrine of some good Divine,
Which, while 'tis preach'd, is admirably fine,
When Doctor Gratitude had left the Spot,
All that he said was “charming,”—and forgot.

110

X

Your Doctor's Potion,—Patience and the Bark,—
May hit both mental and material Mark.
One serves to keep the Ague from the Mind,
As t'other does from its corporeal Rind.
There is, methinks, in their respective Growth,
A fair Analogy betwixt 'em both.

XI

For what the Bark is to the growing Tree,
To human Mind that Patience seems to be:
They hold the Principles of Growth together,
And blunt the Force of Accident and Weather;
Bar'd of its Bark, a Tree, we may compute,
Will not remain much longer on its Root.

XII

And Mind in Mortals that are wisely-will'd,
Will hardly bear to have its Patience peel'd.
Nothing, in fine, contributes more to Living,
Physic or Food, than Patience and Thanksgiving.
Patience defends us from all outward Hap;
Of inward Life Thanksgiving is the Sap.

PASCAL'S CHARACTER OF HIMSELF.

111

I

I love and honour a poor humble State,
Because my Saviour Jesus Christ was poor,
And Riches, too, that help us to abate
The Miseries which other Men endure.

II

I render back no Injuries again,
Because I wish the Doer's Case like mine,
In which nor Good nor Evil, as from Men,
Is minded much, but from an Hand Divine.

III

I aim sincerely to be just and true,
For my Good-will to all Mankind extends;

112

A Tenderness of Heart, I think, is due
Where stricter Ties unite me to my Friends.

IV

Whether in Conversation or alone,
Still to my Mind God's Presence I recall;
My Actions wait the Judgment of His Throne,
And 'tis to Him I consecrate them all.

V

These are my Thoughts, and briefly thus display'd;
I thank my Saviour for them ev'ry Day,
Who of a poor, weak, sinful Man has made
A Man exempt from Vice's evil Sway.

VI

Such is the Force of His Inspiring Grace,
For all my Good to That alone I owe;
Since, if my own corrupted Self I trace,
I'm Nothing else but Misery and Woe.

ST. CECILIA'S HYMN.

113

I

O born of a Virgin most lowly and meek,
Thou, sent of Thy Father lost Creatures to seek,
Vouchsafe, in the Manner that pleaseth Thee best,
To kindle Thy Love in my virginal Breast;
Let the Words of my Mouth and the Thoughts of my Heart
Obey the sweet Force which Thy Grace shall impart;
Whilst Angels assist me to offer my Vows
To the God of my Life, my Redeemer and Spouse!

II

My Life I esteem, O Creator Divine,
As a Loving Impression out-flowing from Thine,—
As an act of Thy Bounty that gives us a Part
Of the Light, Love and Glory Which Thou Thyself art.
May I always as little Thy Pleasure oppose,
As the pure simple Nature from whence I arose;
And by Thee and for Thee created, fulfil
In Thought, Word and Deed Thy adorable Will!

114

III

By this Blessèd Will, howsoever made known,
With a dutiful Joy will I govern my own;
And, deaf to all tempting Enchantments of Sin,
I will hearken to Thee, my Redeemer within.
Thy Words will I ponder by Night and by Day,
And the Light of Thy Gospel shall mark out my Way;
Till at length I arrive at the Honour I claim,
To live like a Virgin baptis'd in Thy Name.

A LETTER TO A LADY,

OCCASIONED BY HER DESIRING THE AUTHOR TO REVISE AND POLISH THE POEMS OF BISHOP KEN.

117

I

Your Book again, with Thanks!—Of worthy Men
One of the worthiest was Bishop Ken.
Without Offence to Authors,—far above
Ten Men of Learning is one Man of Love.

118

How many Bishops and Divines renown'd,
Time after Time, the Catechism expound,—
And which of all so help it to impart
Th' essential Doctrine, Purity of Heart?

II

His Choice of Poetry, when civil Rage
O'erturn'd a Throne the last revolving Age;
When Churches felt, as well as States, the Shock
That drove the pious Pastor from his Flock,—
His Choice of Subjects, not of Party-kind,
But simply fit for ev'ry Christian Mind,—
Are Proofs of gen'rous Virtue and sublime,
And high Encomiums on the Force of Rime.

III

His Rimes,—if those of Dryden or of Pope
Excel on Subjects of a diff'rent Scope,
It is because they only chose the Mould
Where Ore shone brightest, whether Lead or Gold.

119

He, less concern'd for superficial Glare,
Made Weight and Worth his more especial Care;
They took the Tinsel of the fabl'd Nine,
He the substantial Metal from the Mine.

IV

His Phrase (sometimes same sentence may be pass'd
On theirs) might have more artificial Cast;
But, in the main, his Pieces, as they stand,
Could scarce be alter'd by a second Hand.
Patchwork Improvements, in the modern Style,
Bestow'd upon some venerable Pile,
Do but deface it. Poems to revise
That Ken has writ, another Ken must rise.

V

The Dedication, where the Case is shown
Of a Greek Saint of old, so like his own,—

120

The Preface, Introduction, and the View
To Jesus,—Point which all his Works pursue,—

121

Arise to Mind, and tempt to try the Case
Of representing the imperfect Trace;
To make, as Memory can best recall
Its leading Thoughts, one Preface out of all.

VI

Imagine, then, the good old Man reclin'd
On Couch or Chair, and musing in his Mind,
How to adjust the Prefatory Hint
To all the Lines that he gave Leave to print;
Thinking on Gregory, whose former Fate
Bore such Resemblance to his own of late;
Thinking on Jesus and, oppress'd with Pain,
Inditing thus th' apologising Strain:

VII

“In all my Pains I court the Sacred Muse;
Verse is the only Laudanum I use,—

122

Verse, and the Name of Jesus in the Line,
The Christian's universal Anodyne.
To hymn His saving Love to all Mankind
Softens my Grief, and recreates my Mind.
Thy Glory, Jesu, while my Songs intend,
May Thy good Spirit bless them to that End!

VIII

“Like destin'd Jonah, cast into the Deep
To save the Vessel from the stormy Sweep,
And wafted providentially to Shore,
I risk the boist'rous Element no more.
But whilst alone I tread the distant Strand,
Safe o'er the Waves that all may come to Land

123

Whom once I call'd Companions on the Sea,
I pray to Jesus, Whom the Winds obey.

IX

“Thus Nazianzen Gregory of old,
Whom Faction drove from his belovèd Fold,
Could will a Jonah's Lot,—to be cast o'er,
If his dismission might the Calm restore.
However short of this illustrious Saint,
Yet I can find, from Virtues that I want,
A Cause to pray that reigning Feuds may cease,
To hope in Jesus for a calming Peace.

X

“The Saint, expell'd by a tumultuous Rage,
Cheer'd with Diviner Songs his drooping Age;
With Will resign'd in his retir'd Abode
On Christian Themes compos'd the various Ode.
Thus, to my Closet prompted to retire,
Nothing on this Side Heav'n do I require,
Employ'd in Hymns, tho' with unequal Skill,
To consecrate to Jesus all my Will.

XI

“With Pain and Sickness when the Saint was griev'd,
His anxious Mind a Sacred Song reliev'd;
Oft, when oppress'd, the Subject which he sang,
Mix'd with Devotion, sweeten'd ev'ry Pang.
So, being banish'd by unruly Heat,
With Hymns I seek to solace my Retreat.
Be my Confinement ever so extreme,
The Love of Jesus is a Special Theme.

124

XII

“When the Apostate Julian decreed
That Pagan Poets Christians should not read,
The Saint, who knew the subtle Edict's Cause,
Made Verse to triumph o'er the Tyrant's Laws.
May I, while Poetry is unrestrain'd,
Tho' more in these than pagan Times profan'd,
Show that what real Charms it has belong
To Jesus, Founder of the Christian Song!

XIII

“When Gregory was forc'd to leave his Flock,
He chose in Verse the Gospel to unlock,

125

That flowing Numbers might th' Attention gain,
So long forbidden to his preaching Strain.
My Care for them whom I was forc'd to leave,
Taught and untaught what Doctrine to receive,
Would hint in Rimes to all whom they shall reach,
What Jesus only in themselves can teach.

XIV

“For sake of Peace did Gregory withdraw,
And wish'd more Leaders to observe that Law
By which Resigners of Dominion here
Purchase much greater in the Heav'nly Sphere.
In Hopes of Peace, more joyfully I shook
Preferment off than e'er I undertook;
For all the Flock, and banish'd Head beside,
My Comfort is that Jesus can provide.

XV

“When worldly Politics and Lust of Rule

126

Prevail'd against him in a Christian School,
The Saint retir'd, and labour'd to disperse
Ungrateful Discord by harmonious Verse.
Sharing his Fate, I share in his Desire
Of Discord drown'd and of an hymning Lyre,
To tune the Hopes of Peace and in the Name
Of Jesus, rightly hop'd for, to proclaim.

XVI

“This Prince of Peace, This Origin Divine,
Vouchsafe to aid the well-intended Line,—
To teach the Reader's Heart and by His Grace
Make these poor Labours useful in their Place!
O might they raise in any single Soul
One Spark of Love, one Glimpse of the great Whole,
That will possess it when by Thee possest,
Jesus, th' Eternal Song of all the blest!”

A HINT TO CHRISTIAN POETS.

127

I

Where now the Jove, the Phœbus, and the Nine,
Invok'd in Aid of Greek, and Roman Line;
The Verse-inspiring Oracle and Stream,
Delphos and Helicon, and every Theme
Of charming Fictions, which the Poets sung,
To shew the Beauties of a reigning Tongue?

II

The Wars of Gods and Goddesses and Men
Employ'd an Homer's and a Virgil's Pen;
An Epicurus taught that with this Ball
The Gods at Ease had no Concern at all;
And a Lucretius follow'd, to rehearse
His Greek Impieties in Latin Verse.

III

Such were the Bibles of the Pagan Age,
Sung at the Feast and acted on the Stage,—
Transform'd to pompous or to luscious Ode,
As Bacchus, Mars, or Venus was the Mode,—

128

Dumb Deities, at Wit's profuse Expense
Worshipp'd with Sounds that echoed to no Sense.

IV

The Christian Bard has, from a real Spring
Of Inspiration, other Themes to sing:
No vain Philosophy, no fabled Rime,
But Sacred Story, simple and sublime,
By holy Prophets told, to whom belong
The Subjects worthy of the Pow'rs of Song.

V

Shun then, ye born with Talents that may grace
The most important Truths, their hapless Case!
From ranting, high, theatrical Bombast
To low Sing-song of meretricious Cast,
Shun ev'ry Step by which a Pagan Muse
Could lead her Clients to the Stage or Stews!

VI

Let no Examples tempt you to profane
The Gift, abhorrent of all hurtful Strain;
Contemn the vicious, tho' prevailing, Fame
That gains by prostituting Verse a Name;
Take the forbearing Hint, and all the rest
Will rise spontaneous in your purer Breast!

129

ON THE DISPOSITION OF MIND

REQUISITE FOR THE RIGHT USE AND UNDERSTANDING OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURES.

I

To hear the Words of Scripture or to read
With good Effect, requires a threefold Heed;
If incomplete, it only can produce
Hearings and Readings of no sort of Use.

II

The first, Intention;—or, a fix'd Design
To learn the Truth concerning Things Divine.
If previous Disposition be not good,
How shall a serious Point be understood?

III

The next, Attention;—not the outward Part,
But the fair List'ning of an honest Heart.
Sound may, and Figure, strike the Ear and Eye,
But Sense and Meaning to the Mind apply.

IV

The last, Retention;—or, the keeping pure
From hurtful Mixtures what is clear and sure.
In vain the Purpose and the Pains have been
To gain a Good, if not secur'd within.

V

Without Intention, Truth no more can stay
Than Seed can grow upon a public Way;

130

The more it is affecting, plain and grand,
The less will heedless Persons understand.

VI

Without Attention, 'twill have no more Fruit
Than Seed on stony Ground, for want of Root,
That makes a Show with hasty Shoots awhile,
And then betrays the Barrenness of Soil.

VII

Without Retention, all is lost at last,
Like Seed among the Thorns and Briars cast.
So worldly Cares and worldly Riches both
May mix with Truth, and choke it in its Growth.

VIII

As Ground produces goodly Crops of Corn,
If good and free from Footstep, Stone or Thorn,
That of good Hearts has Properties as plain
To seek the Truth, receive it and retain.

ON THE SAME SUBJECT,

In a Letter to Mr. Ponthieu.

131

We ought to read, my worthy Friend Ponthieu,
All holy Scriptures with a Scripture-View.
Writ for our Learning, as their Aim and Scope
Is Patience, Comfort and the blessèd Hope
Of everlasting Life, a Reader's Aim,
To understand them right, should be the same.

The Prosecution of this happier Quest
If Doubts and Difficulties shall molest,
And huge Debates on Passages obscure
Be suffer'd to eclipse the plain and sure:
The more he reads, the more this rambling Art
Will fill his Head, but never touch his Heart;
With controversial Circumstances fill,
On which the Learnèd have employ'd their Skill
With such Success, that scarce the plainest Text
Can be produc'd, but what they have perplext
In such a Manner that, while all assign
To Scripture-Page Authority Divine,
The Compliment is rather paid for Sake
Of such Constructions as they please to make.

Down from the Pope to the obscurest Sect,
Too many Proofs are seen of this Effect,—
Of making one same Scripture a Retreat
For ev'ry Party's opposite Conceit.
Profaner Wits, observing this, mistook,
And laid the Fault upon the Bible-Book,—
Taking the same Variety of Ways,
By fancied Meanings for its ancient Phrase,

132

To cry it down, as Sects were wont to use
To cry it up for their peculiar Views.

As this Excess from Age to Age has grown
To such a monstrous Height within our own,
What a sincere, impartial, honest Mind
In Search of Truth does it require to find!
What calm Attention, what unfeign'd Desire
To hear its Voice does Truth itself require!
In Scripture Phrase, what an “unceasing Pray'r”
Should for its sacred Influence prepare!
Because, whatever Comments we recall,
The Disposition of the Mind is all.

'Tis in this Point, undoubtedly the main,
That Sacred Books do differ from profane.
They do not ask so much for letter'd Skill
To understand them, as for simple Will.
For as a single or clear-sighted Eye
Admits the Light like an unclouded Sky,
So is the Truth, by Scripture-Phrase design'd,
Received into a well-disposèd Mind
By the same Spirit, ready to admit
The written Word, as they possess'd who writ,—
Who writ, if Christians do not vainly boast,
By Inspiration of the Holy Ghost.

In Books so writ this great Advantage lies,
That the First Author of them never dies,
But is still present to instruct, and show
To them who seek Him what they need to know,—
Still by His chosen Servants to unfold,
As He sees fit, the Mysteries of old;

133

To re-confirm what any Sacred Pen
Has writ, by Proof within the Hearts of Men.

This is the true and solid Reason why
No Difficulties, now objected, lie
Against the Volumes writ so long ago,
And in a Language that few People know,—
Subject as Books to Errors and Mistakes
Which oft transcribing or translating makes;
While Manners, Customs, Usages or Phrase,
Well-known of old, but not so in our Days,
For many obvious Reasons must elude
The utmost Force of criticising Feud.
Still, all Editions verbally contain
The simple necessary Truths and plain
Of Gospel-Doctrine; and the Spirit's Aid,
Which is the chief, is not at all decay'd.

Nor can it hurt a Reader to suspend
His Judgment, where he does not comprehend
A darker Text; however it appear,
He knows it cannot contradict a clear.
So that with all the Helps of ev'ry Kind
The shortest and the surest is to mind,
When read or heard, and inwardly digest
The plainest Texts as Rules to all the rest;
To pray for that Good Spirit, which Alone
Can make Its former Inspirations known,—
The Promis'd Comforter, th' Unerring Guide,
Who by Christ's Word was always to abide
Within His Church, not only in the past,
But in all Ages, while the World should last,—

134

A Church distinguish'd in the Sacred Code
By His Perpetual Guidance and Abode.

Such is the Teacher Whom our Saviour chose,
And writ no Books, as human Learning knows,—
Loth as it is, of later Years, to preach
That by This Teacher He will always teach;
Bless all the Means of Learning, or the Want,
To them who after His Instructions pant.
Of reading Helps, what holy Men express'd,
When mov'd to write, are certainly the best;
But for the real, understanding Part
The Book of Books is ev'ry Man's own Heart.

ON THE CONVERSION OF ST. PAUL.

136

I

In Paul's Conversion we discern the Case
Of human Talents wanting Heav'nly Grace.
What Persecutions, till he saw the Light,
Against the Christian Church did he excite!
By his own Reason led into Mistake,
Amongst the Flock what Havoc did he make;
Within himself when verily he thought,
That all the while he did but what he ought!

II

His Use of Reason cannot be denied,
Nor legal Zeal, nor moral Life beside,—
Blameless as any Jew or Greek could claim
Who show'd Aversion to the Christian Name.
His Fund of Learning some are pleas'd to add;
And yet, with all th' Endowments which he had,
From Place to Place with eager Steps he trod,
To persecute the real Church of God.

137

III

When to Damascus for the like Intent
With the High Priest's Authority he went,
Struck to the Ground by a Diviner Ray
The “reas'ning, legal, moral Zealot” lay;
To the plain Question put by Jesus, “Why
Persecute Me?” had only to reply,
“What shall I do?”—His Reason and his Wrath
Were both convinc'd, and he embrac'd the Faith.

IV

His outward lost, his inward Sight renew'd,
Truth in its native Evidence he view'd.
With three Days Fast he nourish'd his Concern;
And, a new Conduct well prepar'd to learn,
Good Ananias, whom he came to bind,
Was sent to cure and to baptise the Blind.
A destin'd Martyr to his Jewish Zeal
Of Christian Faith confers the sacred Seal.

V

Of nobler Use his Reason, while it stood
Without a Conference with Flesh and Blood,
Still and submissive; when within begun
The Father's Revelation of the Son;

138

Whom, till the Holy Spirit rise to show,
No Pow'r of Thought can ever come to know.
The Saving Mystery, obscur'd by Sin,
Itself must manifest Itself within.

VI

Thus, taught of God, Paul saw the Truth appear
To his enlighten'd Understanding clear.
The Pow'r of Christ Himself, and nothing less
Could move Its Persecutor to profess;
He learn'd and told It from the Real Ground,
And prov'd to all the Christian World around,
That true Religion had its true Foundation
Not in Man's Reason, but God's Revelation.

AN EPISTLE TO A GENTLEMAN OF THE TEMPLE,

Occasioned by two Treatises, wherein the Fall of Man is differently Represented; viz. (1) Mr. Law's Spirit of Prayer; (2) The Bishop of London's Appendix: showing that, according to the plainest Sense of Scripture, the Nature of the Fall is greatly mistaken in the latter.

144

Sir, upon casting an attentive Look
Over your Friend the learned Sherlock's Book,
One Thing occurs about the Fall of Man,
That does not suit with the Mosaic Plan,
Nor give us fairly, in its full Extent,
The Scripture Doctrine of that dire Event.

When tempted Adam, yielding to Deceit,
Presum'd of the forbidden Tree to eat,
The Bishop tells us, that “he did not die.”
Pray, will you ask him, Sir, the Reason why?
Why he would contradict the sacred Text,
Where Death to Sin so surely is annext?

145

“The Day thou eatest,” are the Words, you know;
And yet, by his Account, it was not so;
Death did not follow, tho' it surely would.—
How will he make this hardy Comment good?

“Sentence,” says he, “was respited.” But, pray,
Where does the Scripture such a Saying say?
What Word that means to “respite” or “revoke”
Appears in all that God or Moses spoke?

It will be said, perhaps, that it appears,
That Adam liv'd above Nine-hundred Years
After his Fall.—True; but what Life was that?
The very Death, Sir, which his Fall begat.
The Life that Adam was created in
Was lost the Day, the Instant, of his Sin.
Just as the rebel Angels, when they fell,
Were dead to Heav'n, altho' alive to Hell:

146

So Man, no longer breathing heav'nly Breath,
Fell to this Life, and died the Scripture Death.

While in the State of Innocence he stood,
He was all living, beautiful, and good;
But when he fed on the forbidden Fruit,
Whereof Corruption was the latent Root,
He died to Paradise and, by a Birth
That should not have been rais'd, he liv'd to Earth;
Fell into bestial Flesh and Blood and Bones
Amongst the Thorns and Briars, Rocks and Stones.
That which had cloth'd him, when a Child of Light,
With all its Lustre was extinguish'd quite;
Naked, asham'd, confounded and amaz'd,
With other Eyes on other Scenes he gaz'd,
All Sensibility of heav'nly Bliss
Departing from him;—what a Death was This!

His Soul, indeed, as an immortal Fire
Could never die, could never not desire;
But, Sir, he had what glorious Angels claim,—
An Heav'nly Spirit, and an Heav'nly Frame;
Form'd in the Likeness of the Sacred Three,
He stood immortal, powerful, and free;

147

Image of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
The destin'd Sire of a new Heav'nly Host;
Partner of Their Communicated Breath,
A living Soul, unsubjected to Death.
Since, then, he fell from this sublime Estate,
Could less than Death have been his real Fate?
No; as in Life he chose not to abide,
It must be said, that Adam surely died.

Say that he died not, as it was foretold,
But when Nine hundred Years and Thirty old,—
And then, if Death be Sentence for a Fall,
How proves the Bishop that he died at all?
For if the Death he talks of be this last,
How does that answer to the Sentence pass'd?
Was his Departure from this World the Time
That our First Father suffer'd for his Crime?
One rather should believe, or hope at least,
That (so be it!) his Sufferings then ceas'd;
And that the Life, which had been lost at first,
Was then regain'd and he no longer curst.

If on the Bishop's Scutcheon, when he dies,
(Long be the Time deferr'd!) the mourning Eyes

148

Should read “Mors Vitæ Janua,” in Paint,
What must they think him,—Sinner, then, or Saint?
Must not these Words direct them to suppose
An End of all a Christian Bishop's Woes,
Who, like to Adam, Father of Mankind,
Has pass'd his Time of Penitence enjoin'd;
Who, like to Christ, the Second Adam too,
Had always had Redemption in his View;
Had taught himself and others to revive
From “dead in Adam” to “in Christ alive;”
Had been as true a Shepherd to his Flock,
As the poor Hind that really wears a Frock;
So trod this earthly Passage that, in Sum,
“Death” was to him “the Gate of Life” become?

Gate of what Life? Undoubtedly the same
That Adam fell from, when he first became
A Creature of this World; when first he fell,—
Thanks to Divine Fore-goodness!—not to Hell,
But to this Earth,—this State of Time and Place,
Where, dead by Nature, Man revives by Grace;
Where, tho' his outward System must decay,
His inward ripens to eternal Day,—
Puts off th' old Adam, and puts on the New,—
And, having found the First sad Sentence true,
Now finds the Truth of what the Second said:
“The Woman's Seed shall bruise the Serpent's Head.”

149

Again;—to urge the Instance that I gave,
Attend we this good Bishop to his Grave!
The Priest comes forth to meet the sable Hearse,
And then repeats the well-appointed Verse,
—Verse, one would think, that might decide the Strife—
“I am the Resurrection and the Life.”

What “Life” is That Which Jesus is, and gives,
In and by Which the true Believer lives?
That of this World? Then, were it most absurd
To a dead Bishop to apply the Word!
'Tis that which human Nature had before;
Which, being Christ's, Christ only can restore.
What Meaning is there touching the Deceas'd,
Now from the Burden of the Flesh releas'd,
But that his Soul is going to be clad
With heav'nly Flesh and Blood, which Adam had,
Before he enter'd into that which Paul
“Body of Death” might very justly call?
A Flesh and Blood, that, as he hints elsewhere,
“Not born from Heav'n can never enter there;”—
Mass of this World, whose Kingdom Christ disclaim'd,
The Life whereof is but a Life so-nam'd,—
A Life of Animal and Insect Breath,
That in a Man is rightly styl'd a Death.

150

Thus, Sir, throughout the Burial Office run,
You'll find that it proceeds as it begun.
Read any Office,—Baptism, if you will,—
From first to last, you'll find the Reason still
Why any or why all of them are read,—
Reason of all that's either sung, or said,—
Is by this one great solemn Truth explain'd
Of “Life in Adam lost, in Christ regain'd;”—
Lost at the Fall,—not at the End of Years
That Adam labour'd in this Vale of Tears,
When Death thro' Christ was happy, 'tis presum'd,
And vanquish'd that to which he first was doom'd;—

Doom'd,—not by any Act of Wrath in God,—
A Point wherein the Bishop seems to nod.
No Death of pure, of tainted Life no Pain
Did His Severe Inflicting Will ordain.
He is all Glory, Goodness, Light, and Love,—
Life that from Him no Creature can remove;
But from itself it may, as Adam did,
If it will choose what Light and Love forbid.
Truly fore-warn'd of what would truly be,
His Life was poison'd by the mortal Tree:
He ate—he fell—he died:—'tis all the same,—
One Loss of Life under a triple Name.

151

No Test was made by positive Command,
Merely to try if he would fall or stand,
Like that, the serpentine Satanic Snare,
Of which the Man was bidden to beware.
“Eat not thereof, or thou wilt surely die,”
Was spoken to prevent, and not to try;
To guard the Man against his subtle Foe,
Who sought to teach him what 'twas Death to know;—

Death to his pristine Spirit-life Divine,
And Separation from its Sacred Shrine,—
The Pure, Unmix'd, Incorruptible Throne,
Wherein God's Image first Embodied shone.
Tho' form'd to rule the new-created Scene,
Built from the Chaos of a former Reign,
To bring the Wonders of this World to View,
And ancient Glories to an Orb renew,
He also had, as being to command,
See and be seen in this new-formèd Land,—

152

This intermediate temporary Life,
Where only Good and Evil are at Strife,—
Outward, corporeal Form, whereby he saw
And heard and spoke and gave to all Things Law,
They none to him. His far superior Mind
Was, as he pleas'd, united or disjoin'd,—
So far united that all Good was gain'd;
So far disjoin'd that Evil was restrain'd.
It could not reach him, for before his Fall
Nothing could hurt this human Lord of All,—
No more than Satan or the Serpent could,
If in his First Creation he had stood.

Such was his blest Estate, wherein is found
Of Adam's happy Ignorance the Ground.
His outward Body and each outward Thing,
From whence alone both Good and Ill could spring,
Could not affect, while he was free from Sin,
The Life of the celestial Man within.
Glorious Condition! Which, howe'er, implied,
That Man, at first plac'd in it, must be tried
Not from God's Will or arbitrary Voice;—
His Trial follow'd from his Pow'r of Choice.
God will'd him That, himself was to re-will,

153

And the divine Intentions to fulfil,—
To use his outward Body as a Means
Whereby to raise in Time and Place the Scenes
That should restore the once angelic Orb,
And all its Evil introduc'd absorb;—

Evil, that prior to the Fall of Man
From him, whose Name in Heav'n is lost, began.
Moses has plainly hinted at the Fiend,
Whose Malice in a borrow'd Shape was screen'd;
Who, under Reason's plausible Disguise,
Taught our First Parents to be worldly-wise.
Succeeding Lights have risen up to show
Of God and Man more openly the Foe.

He, once a thron'd Archangel, had the Sway
Far as this Orb of our created Day;
Where, then, no Sun was wanted to give Light,
No Moon to cheer yet undiscover'd Night.
Immensely luminous his total Sphere,
All Glory, Beauty, Brightness, ev'rywhere,—

154

Ocean of Bliss, a limpid crystal Sea,
Whose Height and Depth its Angels might survey,
Call forth its Wonders, and enjoy the Trance
Of Joys perpetual thro' its whole Expanse.
Ravishing Forms, arising without End,
Would in Obedience to their Wills ascend,
Change, and unfold fresh Glories to their View,
And tune the Hallelujah Song anew.

If, when we cast a thoughtful, thankful Eye
Towards the Beauties of an Ev'ning Sky,
Calm we admire thro' the ethereal Field
The various Scenes that even Clouds can yield,—
What huge Delight must Nature's Fund afford,
Where all the rich Realities are stor'd
Which God produces from its vast Abyss
To His own Glory and His Creatures' Bliss!

His Glory, first, all Nature must display;
Else how to Bliss could Creatures know the Way?
Order thro' all Eternity requires
That to His Will they subject their Desires;
That, with all Meekness, the created Mind
Be to the Fountain of its Life resign'd;
Think, speak, and act, in all things for His Sake.
This is the true Perfection of its Make.

Both Men and Angels must have Wills their own,
Or God and Nature were to them unknown.
'Tis their Capacity of Life and Joy
Which none but they can ruin or destroy.
God in Himself was, is and will be Good,

155

And all around pour forth th' enriching Flood.
From Him—'tis Nature's and Religion's Creed,—
Nothing but Good can possibly proceed.
That Creature only, whose recipient Will
Shuts itself up within itself, is ill:
Good cannot dwell in such an harden'd Clay,
But stagnates and evaporates away.

Thus, when the Regent of th' angelic Host
That fell, began within himself to boast;
Began, endow'd with his Creator's Pow'rs
That nothing could resist, to call them Ours;
To spread thro' his wide Ranks the impious Term,
And they, their Leader's Doctrine to confirm,—
Then Self, then Evil, then apostate War
Rag'd thro' their Hierarchy wide and far;
Kindled to burn what they esteem'd a Rod,
The Meekness and Subjection to a God.
Resolv'd to pay no hymning Homage more,
Nor in an Orbit of their own adore,
All Right of Heav'n's Eternal King abjur'd,
They thought One Region to themselves secur'd,—

156

One out of Three, where Majesty Divine
Shone in Its Glorious Outbirth Unitrine;
Shone, and will shine eternally, altho'
Angels or Men the Shining Bliss forego.

Straight, with this proud Imagination fir'd,
To Self-Dominion strongly they aspir'd;
Bent all their Wills, irrevocably bent,
To bring about their devilish Intent.
How ought we Mortals to beware of Pride,
That such great Angels could so far misguide!
No sooner was this horrible Attempt
From all Obedience to remain exempt
Put forth to Act, but instantly thereon
Heav'n in the Swiftness of a Thought was gone.
From Love's beatifying Pow'r estrang'd,
They found their Life, their Bliss, their Glory chang'd;
That State wherein they were resolv'd to dwell,
Sprung from their Lusting and became their Hell.

Thinking to rise above the God of All
The Wretches fell with an eternal Fall
In Depths of Slavery without a Shelf;—

157

There is no Stop in self-tormenting Self.
Just as a Wheel, that's running down a Hill
Which has no Bottom, must keep running still,
So down their own Proclivity to wrong,
Urg'd by impetuous Pride, they whirl along;
Their own dark, fiery working Spirits tend
Further from God and further to descend.

He made no Hell to place His Angels in;
They stirr'd the Fire that burnt them by their Sin,
The Bounds of Nature and of Order broke,
And all the Wrath that follow'd them awoke.
Their own disorder'd Raging was their Pain;
Their own unbending, harden'd Strength their Chain;
Renouncing God with their eternal Might,
They sunk their Legions into endless Night.

Meanwhile, the glorious Kingdom where they dwelt
Th' Effect of their rebellious Workings felt;
Its clear Materiality and pure
Could not the Force of raging Fiends endure;
Its Elements, all Heav'nly in their Kind,
In one harmonious System when combin'd,
Were now disclos'd, divided and opaque;
Their glassy Sea became a stormy Lake;

158

The Height and Depth of their angelic World
Was nought but Ruins upon Ruins hurl'd.
Chaos arose, and with its gloomy Sweep
Of dark'ning Horrors overspread the Deep;
All was Confusion, Order all defac'd,
Tohu and Bohu, the deformèd Waste.

Till the Almighty's Gracious Fiat came
And stopp'd the Spreading of the hellish Flame;
Put to each fighting Principle the Bar,
And calm'd by just Degrees th' intestine War.
Light at His Word th' abating Tempest cheer'd;
Earth, Sea and Land, Sun, Moon and Stars appear'd;
Creatures of ev'ry Kind and Food for each,
And various Beauties clos'd the various Breach.
Nature's Six Properties had each their Day,
Lost Heav'n, as far as might be, to display,

159

And in the Sev'nth, or Body of them all,
To rest from, what they yet must prove, a Fall.

For had not this disorder'd Chaos been,
Had not these Angels caus'd it by their Sin,—
Nor had compacted Earth, nor Rock, nor Stone,
Nor gross Materiality been known.
All that in Fire or Water, Earth or Air,
May now their noxious Qualities declare,
Is as unknown in Heav'n as Sin or Crime,
And only lasts for purifying Time,—
Till the Great End, for which we all came here,
Till God's Restoring Goodness, shall appear.
Then, as the rebel Creatures' false Desire
Awak'd in Nature the chaotic Fire,
So, when Redeeming Love has found a Race
Of Creatures worthy of the Heav'nly Place,
Then shall another Fire enkindled rise,
And purge from Ill these temporary Skies,—
Purge from the World its Deadness and its Dross,
And of lost Heav'n recover all the Loss.

Why look we, then, with such a longing Eye
On what this World can give us or deny,—

160

Of Man and Angel fall'n the sad Remains?
It has its Pleasures, but it has its Pains.
It has what speaks it, would we but attend,
Not our design'd Felicity,—an End.
Sons of Eternity, tho' born on Earth,
There is within us a Celestial Birth,—
A Life that waits the Efforts of our Mind,
To raise itself within this outward Rind.
This Husk of ours, this stately stalking Clod,
Is not the Body that we have from God.
Of Good and Evil 'tis the mortal Crust;
Fruit of Adamical and Eval Lust;
By which the Man, when heav'nly Life was ceas'd,
Became an helpless, naked, biped Beast,
Forc'd on a cursèd Earth to sweat and toil,
To Brute a native, him a foreign Soil;
And, after all his Years employ'd to know
The Satisfaction of a Life so low,—
Nine-hundred, or Nine-hundred-thousand,—past,
Another Death to come and Hell at last,—
But for that new, mysterious Birth of Life,
That promis'd Seed to Adam and his Wife,

161

That quick'ning Spirit to a poor dead Soul,—
Not Part of Scripture Doctrine, but the Whole;
Which Writers, figuring away, have left
A mere dead Letter, of all Sense bereft,—
But for that only Help of Man forlorn,
The Incarnation of the Virgin-born.

This Serpent-Bruiser, Son of God and Man,
Who from the first His saving Work began,
Revers'd, in full Maturity of Time,
In His Own sacred Person, Adam's Crime;
Brought human Nature from its deadly Fall,
And made Salvation possible for All.

Without acknowledging that Adam died,
Scripture throughout is, in Effect, denied;
All the whole Process of Redeeming Love,
Of Life, of Light and Spirit from above,
Loses by Learning's piteous Pretence
Of Modes and Metaphors its real Sense;
All the glad Tidings in the Gospel found
Are sunk in empty and unmeaning Sound.

If by the First Man's Sin we understand
Only some Breach of absolute Command
Half-punish'd, half-remitted by a Grace
Like that which takes in human Acts a Place,—
The more we write, the more we still expose
The Christian Doctrine to its reas'ning Foes.
But, once convinc'd that Adam by his Crime
Fell from eternal Life to that of Time;

162

Stood on the Brink of Death eternal too,
Unless created unto Life anew,—
Then, ev'ry Reason teaches us to see
How all the Truths of Sacred Writ agree;
How Life restor'd arises from the Grave;
How Man could perish, and how Christ could save.

Man perish'd by the deadly Food he took,
And needs must lose the Life that he forsook,
Not unadvis'd. The Moment he inclin'd
To this inferior Life his nobler Mind,
God kindly warn'd him to continue fed
With Food of Paradise, with Angels' Bread;
To shun the Tree, the Knowledge, whose sad Leav'n
Would quench in him the Light and Life of Heav'n;
Strip him of that angelical Array
Which thro' his outward Body spread the Day;
Kept it from ev'ry Curse of Sin and Shame,
From all those Evils that had yet no Name,—
That prov'd—alas!—when he would not refrain,
The Loss of Adam's proper Life too plain.
Who can suppose that God would e'er forbid
To eat what would not hurt him if he did;
Fright His lov'd Creature by a false Alarm;
Or make what in itself was harmless, Harm?

O how much better he from whom I draw,
Tho' deep, yet clear, the System,—Master Law!

163

“Master” I call him; not that I incline
To pin my Faith on any One Divine;
But, Man or Woman, whosoe'er it be,
That speaks true Doctrine, is a Pope to me.
Where Truth alone is Interest and Aim,
Who would regard a Person or a Name;
Or, in the Search of it impartial, scoff
Or scorn the meanest Instrument thereof?

164

Pardon me, Sir, for having dar'd to dwell
Upon a Truth already told so well;
Since diff'rent Ways of telling may excite
In diff'rent Minds Attention to what's right,
And Men (I measure by Myself) sometimes,
Averse to Reas'ning, may be taught by Rimes,—
If, where One fails, they will not take Offence,
Nor quarrel with the Words, but seek the Sense.

“Life,” “Death,” and such-like Words, in Scripture found,
Have certainly an higher, deeper Ground,
Than that of this poor perishable Ball,
Whereon Men doat as if it were their All,—
As if they were like Warburtonion Jews,
Or Christians nam'd, but still no higher Views;
As if their Years had never taught them Sense
Beyond, “It is all one a Hundred hence!”

'Twas of such Worldlings that our Saviour said
To one of his Disciples, “Let the Dead

165

Bury their Dead,—but do thou follow Me!”
It makes no more Distinction, Sir, you see,
But that with Ref'rence to a Life so brute
The speaking Carcases interr'd the mute.

Life, to conclude, was lost in Adam's Fall,
Which Christ, our Resurrection, will recall;
And, as Death came into the World by Sin,
Where One begun the Other must begin.
Why will the learned Sages use their Art,
From Scripture Truth so widely to depart?
But above all, a Bishop, grave and wise,
Why will he shut against plain Text his Eyes,—
Not see that Heav'ns Prediction never lied;
That Adam fell by eating, sinn'd, and died
A real Death, as much as Loss of Sight
Is Death to ev'ry Circumstance of Light?
Tho' a blind Man may feel his Way and grope,
Or for recover'd Eyes be made to hope,
We might as well set Glasses on his Nose,
And Sight from common Helps of Sight suppose,
As say, when Adam's Heav'nly Life was kill'd,
That Sentence was not instantly fulfill'd!

Persuade your Mitred Friend, then, if you can,
To re-consider, Sir, the Fall of Man;
To see and own the Depth of it: because.
Till that is done, we may as well pick Straws,
As talk of what and who the Serpent was
That brought the Fall, not understood, to pass.

166

One Thing he was, Sir, be what else he will,—
A Critic that employ'd his fatal Skill
To cavil upon Words, and take away
The Sense of that which was as plain as Day.
And thus the World at present by his Wiles,
Tho' not in outward Shape, he still beguiles,
Seeking to turn, by Comments low and lax,
The Word of God into a Nose of Wax;
To take away the Marrow and the Pith
Of all that Scripture can present us with.
May Heav'n deliver from his winding Tours
The Bishop, and us all! I am, Sir,
Yours.

A PRAYER, FROM MR. LAW'S SPIRIT OF PRAYER.

167

O heav'nly Father! Gracious God above!
Thou Boundless Depth of Never-ceasing Love!
Save me from Self, and cause me to depart
From sinful Works of a long-harden'd Heart;
From all my Great Corruptions set me free;
Give me an Ear to hear, an Eye to see,
An Heart and Spirit to believe, and find
Thy Love in Christ, the Saviour of Mankind!

Made for Thyself, O God, and to display
Thy Goodness in me, manifest, I pray,
By Grace adapted to each wanting Hour
Thy Holy Nature's Life-conferring Pow'r;
Give me the Faith, the Hunger and the Thirst
After the Life breath'd forth from Thee at first,—
Birth of Thy Holy Jesus in my Soul,
That I may turn thro' Life's succeeding Whole
From ev'ry outward Work or inward Thought
Which is not Thee, or in Thy Spirit wrought!

ENTHUSIASM;

A Poetical Essay. In a Letter to a Friend in Town.

Ει γαρ το ειναι θειος εστιν η θεια γενησις, ου μη ποτε τι γνοιη των θεοπαραδοτων ουτε μεν ενεργησειεν, ο μηδε το υπαρχειν ενθεως εχηκως. —S. Dionys. Areop. de Eccles. Hier., cap. 2.

179

“Fly from Enthusiasm! It is the Pest,
Bane, Poison, Frenzy, Fury,—and the rest.”
This is the Cry that oft, when Truth appears,
Forbids Attention to our list'ning Ears;
Checks our first Entrance on the main Concern,
And, stunn'd with Clamour, we forbear to learn;
Mechanically catch the common Cant,
And fly from what we almost know we want,—
A deeper Sense of something that should set
The Heart at Rest, that never has done yet;
Some simpler Secret that, yet unreveal'd,
Amidst contending Systems lies conceal'd.

A Book, perhaps, beyond the vulgar Page,
Removes at once the Lumber of an Age;
Truth is presented; strikes upon our Eyes;
We feel Conviction, and we fear Surprise;
We gaze, admire, dispute, and then the Bawl:
“Fly from Enthusiasm!” That answers all.
Now, if my Friend has Patience to enquire,
Let us a while from noisy Scenes retire;
Let us examine Sense as well as Sound,
And search the Truth, the Nature and the Ground.

180

'Tis Will, Imagination and Desire
Of thinking Life that constitute the Fire,—
The Force, by which the strong Volitions drive,
And form the Scenes to which we are alive.
What tho', unsprouted into outward Shape,
The Points of Thought our grosser Sight escape,
Nor bulky Forms in prominent Array
Their secret cogitative Cause betray?
Once fix the Will, and Nature must begin
T' unfold its active Rudiments within;
Mind governs Matter, and it must obey;
To all its opening Forms Desire is Key;
Nor Mind nor Matter's Properties are lost,—
As that shall mould, this must appear emboss'd.
Imagination, trifling as it seems,
Big with Effects, its own Creation, teems.
We think our Wishes and Desires a Play,
And sport important Faculties away.
Edg'd are the Tools with which we trifle thus,
And carve our deep Realities for us.
Intention, roving into Nature's Field,
Dwells in that System which it means to build,

181

Itself the Centre of its wish'd-for Plan;
For where the Heart of Man is, there is Man.

Ev'ry created, understanding Mind
Moves as its own Self-bias is inclin'd.
From God's free Spirit breathèd forth to be,
It must of all Necessity be free;
Must have the Pow'r to kindle and inflame
The Subject-matter of its mental Aim.
Whether it bend the voluntary View
Realities, or Fictions, to pursue,—
Whether it raise its Nature or degrade,
To Truth substantial or to phantom Shade,—
Falsehood or Truth accordingly obtains;
That only which it wills to gain, it gains,—
Good, if the Good be vigorously sought,
And Ill, if that be first resolv'd in Thought.
All is one Good, that nothing can remove,
While held in Union, Harmony, and Love.
But when a selfish, separating Pride
Will break all Bounds, and Good from Good divide,
'Tis then extinguish'd, like a distant Spark,
And Pride self-doom'd into its joyless Dark.
The miscreant Desire turns Good to Ill
In its own Origin, the evil Will;—
A Fact, that fills all Histories of old,
That glares in Proof, while conscious we behold
The Bliss, bespoken by our Maker's Voice,
Fixt or perverted by a Man's own Choice.

Now, when the Mind determines thus its Force,
The Man becomes Enthusiast of course.
“What is Enthusiasm?” What can it be
But Thought enkindled to an high Degree,
That may, whatever be its ruling Turn,—
Right or not right,—with equal Ardour burn?

182

It must be therefore various in its Kind,
As objects vary that engage the Mind.
When to Religion we confine the Word,
What Use of Language can be more absurd?
'Tis just as true, that many Words beside,
As “Love” or “Zeal,” are only thus applied.
To ev'ry Kind of Life they all belong;
Men may be eager, tho' their Views be wrong.
And hence the Reason why the greatest Foes
To true religious Earnestness are those
Who fire their Wits upon a diff'rent Theme,
Deep in some false enthusiastic Scheme.

One Man politely, seiz'd with classic Rage,
Dotes on old Rome and its Augustan Age,—
On those great Souls who then, or then-abouts,
Made in their State such Riots and such Routs.
He fancies all magnificent and grand
Under this Mistress of the World's Command.
Scarce can his Breast the sad Reverse abide:
The Dame despoil'd of all her glorious Pride;
Time, and old Goth, advancing to consume
Immortal Gods and once eternal Rome;
When the plain Gospel spread its artless Ray,
And rude uncultur'd Fishermen had Sway,

183

Who spar'd no Idol, tho' divinely carv'd,
Tho' Art, and Muse, and Shrine-Engraver starv'd;
Who sav'd poor Wretches, and destroy'd, alas!
The vital Marble and the breathing Brass.
Where does all Sense to him and Reason shine?
Behold, in Tully's Rhetoric divine!
“Tully?” Enough; high o'er the Alps he's gone,
To tread the Ground that Tully trod upon;
Haply, to find his Statue or his Bust,
Or Medal green'd with Ciceronian Rust;
Perchance, the Rostrum,—yea, the very Wood
Whereon this elevated Genius stood,
When forth on Catiline, as erst he spoke,
The Thunder of “Quousque tandem” broke.

Well may this Grand Enthusiast deride
The Dulness of a Pilgrim's humbler Pride,
Who paces to behold that Part of Earth
Which to the Saviour of the World gave Birth;
To see the Sepulchre from whence He rose,
Or view the Rocks that rended at His Woes;
Whom Pagan Reliques have no Force to charm,
Yet ev'n a modern Crucifix can warm,—
The Sacred Signal who intent upon,
Thinks on the Sacrifice That hung thereon.

184

Another's heated Brain is painted o'er
With ancient Hieroglyphic Marks of yore;
He old Egyptian Mummies can explain,
And raise 'em up almost to Life again;
Can into deep antique Recesses pry,
And tell of all the Wherefore and the Why;
How this Philosopher and that has thought,
Believ'd one Thing, and quite another taught;
Can Rules of Grecian Sages long forgot
Clear up, as if they liv'd upon the Spot.

185

What Bounds to Nostrum?—Moses and the Jews
Observ'd this learnèd Legislator's Views,
While Israel's Leader purposely conceal'd
Truths, which his whole Economy reveal'd;
No Heav'n disclos'd, but Canaan's fertile Stage,
And no For-ever, but a good old Age;
Whilst the well-untaught People, kept in Awe
By meanless Types and unexplainèd Law,
Pray'd to their local God to grant a while
The Future State of Corn and Wine and Oil;

186

Till, by a late Captivity set free,
Their destin'd Error they began to see,
Dropt the Mosaic Scheme, to teach their Youth
Dramatic Job and Babylonish Truth.

To soar aloft on Obeliskal Clouds;
To dig down deep into the Dark—for Shrouds;
To vex old Matters chronicled in Greek,
While those of his own Parish are to seek,—
What can come forth from such an antic Taste,
But a Clarissimus Enthusiast,
Fraught with Discoveries, so quaint, so new,
So deep, so smart, so Ipse-dixit true?
See Arts and Empires, Ages, Books and Men,
Rising and falling, as he points the Pen;
See Frauds and Forgeries, if aught surpass

187

Of nobler Stretch the Limits of his Class,
Nor found within that Summary of Laws,—
Conjecture, tinsell'd with its own Applause!

Where Erudition so unblest prevails,
Saints and their Lives are legendary Tales;
Christians a brainsick, visionary Crew,
That read the Bible with a Bible-View,
And thro' the Letter humbly hope to trace
The living Word, the Spirit, and the Grace.

It matters not, whatever be the State
That full-bent Will and strong Desires create.
Where'er they fall, where'er they love to dwell,
They kindle there their Heaven or their Hell.
The chosen Scene surrounds them as their own;
All else is dead, insipid or unknown.
However poor and empty be the Sphere,
'Tis All, if Inclination centre there.

188

Its own Enthusiasts each System knows,
Down to lac'd Fops and Powder-sprinkled Beaux.
Great Wits, affecting what they call “to think,”
That deep-immers'd in Speculation sink,
Are great Enthusiasts, howe'er refin'd,
Whose Brain-bred Notions so inflame the Mind
That during the Continuance of its Heat
The Summum Bonum is its own Conceit.
Critics, with all their Learning recondite;
Poets, that sev'rally be-musèd write;
The Virtuosos, whether great or small;
The Connoisseurs, that know the Worth of all;
Philosophers, that dictate Sentiments,
And Politicians wiser than Events,—
Such, and such-like, come under the same Law,
Altho' their Heat be from a Flame of Straw,—
Altho' in one Absurdity they chime:
To make religious Entheasm a Crime.

Endless to say how many of their Trade

189

Ambition, Pride and Self-conceit have made.
If one the chief of such a num'rous Name,
Let the great Scholar justify his Claim!
Self-love, in short, wherever it is found,
Tends to its own enthusiastic Ground.
With the same Force that Goodness mounts above,
Sinks, by its own enormous Weight, Self-love.
By this the wav'ring Libertine is prest,
And the rank Atheist totally possest.
Atheists are dark Enthusiasts indeed,
Whose Fire enkindles like the smoking Weed;
Lightless and dull the clouded Fancy burns,
Wild Hopes and Fears still flashing out by Turns.
Averse to Heav'n, amid the horrid Gleam
They quest Annihilation's monst'rous Theme,
On gloomy Depths of Nothingness to pore,
Till All be none, and Being be no more.

The sprightlier Infidel, as yet more gay,
Fires off the next Idéas in his Way,—
The dry Fag-ends of ev'ry obvious Doubt,
And puffs and blows for fear they should go out.

190

Boldly resolv'd, against Conviction steel'd
Nor inward Truth nor outward Fact to yield,—
Urg'd with a thousand Proofs, he stands unmov'd,
Fast by himself, and scorns to be out-prov'd.
To his own Reason loudly he appeals,—
No Saint more zealous for what God reveals!

Think not that you are no Enthusiast, then!
All Men are such, as sure as they are Men.
The Thing itself is not at all to blame;
'Tis in each State of human Life the same,
The fiery Bent, the driving of the Will,
That gives the Prevalence to Good or Ill.
You need not go to Cloisters or to Cells,
Monks or Field-Preachers, to see where it dwells.
It dwells alike in Balls and Masquerades;
Courts, Camps, and 'Changes it alike pervades.
There be Enthusiasts who love to sit
In Coffee-houses, and cant out their Wit.

191

The first in most Assemblies would you see,
Mark out the first Haranguer, and that's He!
Nay, 'tis what silent Meetings cannot hide;
It may be notic'd by its mere Outside.
Beaux and Coquettes would quit the magic Dress,
Did not this mutual Instinct both possess.
The Mercer, Tailor, Bookseller, grows rich,
Because fine Clothes, fine Writings can bewitch.
A Cicero, a Shaftesbury, a Bayle,—
How quick would they diminish in their Sale!
Four-Fifths of all their Beauties who would heed,
Had they not keen Enthusiasts to read?

That which concerns us, therefore, is to see
What Species of Enthusiasts we be;
On what Materials the fiery Source
Of thinking Life shall execute its Force:
Whether a Man shall stir up Love or Hate
From the mix'd Medium of this present State;
Shall choose with upright Heart and Mind to rise,
And reconnoitre Heav'n's primeval Skies,
Or down to Lust and Rapine to descend,
Brute for a Time and Demon at its End.
“Neither, perhaps,” the wary Sceptics cry,—
And wait till Nature's River shall run dry;
With sage Reserve not passing o'er to Good,

192

Of Time, lost Time, are borne along the Flood,—
Content to think such thoughtless Thinking right,
And common Sense enthusiastic Flight.

“Fly from Enthusiasm?” Yes, fly from Air,
And breathe it more intensely for your Care!
Learn that, whatever Phantoms you embrace,
Your own essential Property takes Place;
Bend all your Wits against it,—'tis in vain:
It must exist, or sacred or profane.
For Flesh or Spirit, Wisdom from above
Or from this World an Anger or a Love,
Must have its Fire within the human Soul.
'Tis ours to spread the Circle or control,—
In Clouds of sensual Appetites to smoke,
While smoth'ring Lusts the rising Conscience choke;
Or from ideal Glimmerings to raise,
Showy and faint, a superficial Blaze,
Where subtle Reasons with their lambent Flames,
Untouch'd the Things, creep round and round the Names;—
Or, with a true celestial Ardour fir'd,
Such as at first created Man inspir'd,
To will, and to persist to will, the Light,
The Love, the Joy, that makes an Angel bright,—
That makes a Man in Sight of God to shine
With all the Lustre of a Life Divine.

193

When true Religion kindles up the Fire,
Who can condemn the vigorous Desire
That burns to reach the End for which 'twas giv'n,—
To shine and sparkle in its native Heav'n?
What else was our Creating Father's View;
His Image lost why sought He to renew?
Why all the Scenes of Love that Christians know,
But to attract us from this poor Below,—
To save us from the fatal Choice of Ill
And bless the free co-operating Will?

Blame not Enthusiasm, if rightly bent,—
Or blame of Saints the holiest Intent,
The strong Persuasion, the confirm'd Belief,
Of all the Comforts of a Soul the Chief,
That God's Continual Will and Work to save,
Teach and inspire, attend us to the Grave;
That they who in His Faith and Love abide,
Find in His Spirit an Immediate Guide.
This is no more a Fancy or a Whim,
Than that “we live, and move, and are in Him.”
Let Nature, or let Scripture, be the Ground,—
Here is the Seat of true Religion found.

194

An Earthly Life, as Life itself explains,
The Air and Spirit of this World maintains;
As plainly does an Heav'nly Life declare
An Heav'nly Spirit and an Holy Air.

What Truth more plainly does the Gospel teach,
What Doctrine all its Missionaries preach,
Than this: that ev'ry good Desire and Thought
Is in us by the Holy Spirit wrought?
For this, the working Faith prepares the Mind,
Hope is expectant, Charity resign'd;
From this Blest Guide the Moment we depart,
What is there left to sanctify the Heart?
“Reason and Morals?”—And where live they most?
In Christian Comfort, or in Stoic Boast?
Reason may paint unpractis'd Truth exact,
And Morals rigidly maintain—no Fact;
This is the Pow'r that raises them to Worth,
That calls their rip'ning Excellences forth.
“Not ask for this?”—May Heav'n forbid the vain,
The sad Repose! What Virtue can remain?
What Virtue wanting, if within the Breast
This Faith, productive of all Virtue, rest:
That God is always present to impart
His Light and Spirit to the willing Heart?

195

He who can say, “My willing Heart began
To learn this Lesson,” may be christen'd Man;—
Before a Son of Elements and Earth,
But now a Creature of another Birth,
Whose true regenerated Soul revives,
And Life from Him That ever lives derives.
Freed by compendious Faith from all the Pangs
Of long-fetch'd Motives and perplex'd Harangues,
One Word of Promise stedfastly embrac'd,
His Heart is fix'd, its whole Dependence plac'd;
The Hope is rais'd, that cannot but succeed,
And found Infallibility indeed.
Then flows the Love that no Distinction knows
Of System, Sect or Party, Friends or Foes,
Nor loves by halves; but, faithful to its Call,
Stretches its whole Benevolence to All,—
It's universal Wish th' Angelic Scene:
That God within the Heart of Man may reign,
The True Beginning to the Final Whole
Of Heav'n and Heav'nly Life within the Soul.

This Faith and this Dependence once destroy'd,
Man is made helpless, and the Gospel void.
He that is taught to seek elsewhere for Aid,
Be who he will the Teacher, is betray'd;

196

Be what it will the System, he's enslav'd:
Man by Man's Maker only can be sav'd.
In this One Fountain of all Help to trust,
What is more easy, natural, and just?
Talk what we will of Morals, and of Bliss,
Our Safety has no other Source but this.
Led by this Faith, when Man forsakes his Sin,
The Gate stands open to his God within:
There, in the Temple of his Soul, is found
Of inward central Life the Holy Ground,—
The Sacred Scene of Piety and Peace,
Where new-born Christians feel the Life's Increase,
Blessing and blest, revive to pristine Youth,
And worship God “in Spirit and in Truth.”

Had not the Soul this Origin, this Root,
What else were Man but a two-handed Brute,—
What but a Devil, had he not possest
The Seed of Heav'n, replanted in his Breast,—
The Spark of Potency, the Ray of Light,
His Call, his Help, his Fitness to excite
The Strength and Vigour of Celestial Air,
Faith, and the Breath of living Christians, Pray'r;—
Not the Lip-Service, nor the mouthing Waste
Of heartless Words without an inward Taste,
But the true Kindling of desirous Love,
That draws the Willing Graces from above,—

197

The Thirst of Good that naturally pants
After that Light and Spirit which it wants,
In Whose blest Union quickly coincide
To ask and have, to want and be supplied?
Then does the faithful Suppliant discern
More of True Good, more of True Nature learn
Than from a thousand Volumes on the Shelf
In one meek Intercourse with Truth Itself.

All that the Gospel ever could ordain,
All that the Church's daily Rites maintain,
Is to keep up, to strengthen and employ
This lively Faith, this Principle of Joy,—
This Hope and this Possession of the End
Which all her pious Institutes intend,
Fram'd to convey, when freed from wordy Strife,
The Truth and Spirit of an inward Life,
Wherein th' Eternal Parent of all Good
By His own Influence is understood;
That Man may learn infallibly aright,
Blest in His Presence, seeing in His Light,
To gain the Habit of a Godlike Mind,
To seek His Holy Spirit,—and to find.

In this Enthusiasm, advanc'd thus high,
'Tis a true Christian Wish to live and die.

198

THE FORCE OF TRUTH.

O force of Truth, beyond suppression great
By human wit, skill, cunning or deceit,—
Let men attack her in what shape they please,
She by herself defends herself with ease!

REMARKS ON DR. MIDDLETON'S EXAMINATION OF THE LORD BISHOP OF LONDON'S DISCOURSES CONCERNING THE USE AND INTENT OF PROPHECY.

201

This Passage, Sir, which has engag'd of late
So many Writers in such high Debate
About the Nature of Prophetic Light,

202

Has not, I think, been understood aright;
Nor does the Critic Middleton's new Tract
Relate the Meaning fairly or the Fact.

Peter, you know, Sir, by his own Account
Was with our Saviour in the holy Mount;
Where he and two Apostles more beheld
The Shechinah, or Glory that excell'd;
Saw that Divine Appearance of our Lord
Which Three of the Evangelists record,
His Face a Sun, and Light His Whole Array,—
Prophetic Glimpse of that Eternal Day
Wherein, the Glance of Sun and Moon supprest,
God shall Himself enlighten all the blest;
Shall from His Temple, from the Sacred Shrine
Shine forth of human Majesty Divine.
To this Grand Vision, which the chosen Three
Were call'd before they tasted Death to see,
Was added Proof to the astonish'd Ear,
That made Presential Deity appear;
And by a Voice from God the Father's Throne
His Well-beloved Son was then made known.

Now, search of Mysteries the whole Abyss,
What more entire Conviction, Sir, than this?
Of human Reason search the wide Pretence,
What more miraculous and plain to Sense?

203

But Reason oft interprets past Event
Just as the human Heart and Will is bent.
The Doctor, whom his own Productions call
No hearty Friend to Miracles at all,
Disguises this, to bring his Point about,
As if both Sight and Hearing left a Doubt,—
Left some Perplexity on Peter's Mind,
Quite against all that he himself defin'd:
“This wond'rous Apparition, Sir, might leave
“Something too hard precisely to conceive,
“And Circumstances raise within his Soul
“Suspense about the Nature of the whole.”

What Kind of saunt'ring Spirit could suggest
Such groundless Cavil to a Christian Breast?

204

What Christian Priest, at least, would choose to paint
His Saviour's Glory in a Light so faint?—
But, let this suit the Priesthood, if you will;—
Pray, what Foundation for his critic Skill,
For Peter's doubting what he saw and heard,
For Scruples first imagin'd, then inferr'd?

The Reason here assign'd is “Fear and Dread,
“So great that Peter knew not what he said;
“He, and his Partners in the Vision too,
“Fell on their Faces at Its Awful View,
“Nor durst look up, till Jesus at the last
“Came to and rais'd them, when 'twas overpast.”

O vain Suggestion! Could they see and hear
Without an Adoration, without Fear?
If they were struck with more than mortal Awe,
Their very Fear was Proof of what they saw;
For Strength to see and Weakness to sustain
Made both alike the Heav'nly Vision plain;
Nor has he once attempted to devise
What else should strike them with so great Surprise.

If, overcome with reverential Dread,
Th' amaz'd Apostle wist not what he said,
Unbiass'd Reason would itself confess
A Greater Light, diminishing its less.
Thus, in the Sacred Books if we recall
The first recorded Presence since the Fall,
Themselves from God when our first Parents hid,

205

It might be said they wist not what they did.
Yet were they taught their comfortable Creed,
The Promise of the Woman's Conqu'ring Seed;
As here th' Apostles were empower'd to see
That Jesus, God's Belovèd Son, was He.

If, when God spake, each fell upon his Face,
How oft, in ancient Times, was this the Case!
What Prophet, Sir, to whom He spake of Yore,
His Voice or Vision unsupported bore?
Moses himself, when unawares he trod
On holy Ground and heard the Voice of God,
Tho' turn'd aside on purpose to enquire
What kept the Bush unburnt amidst the Fire,
Stopp'd in his Search by the Divine Rebuke,
Straight “hid his Face,” and was “afraid to look.”

Abram, the covenanted Sire of all
Who in his Faith upon the Lord should call,
When he receiv'd the Seal of it, the Sign
Of Circumcision, from the Voice Divine,
Fell on his Face;—and must we then conceit
His Proofs, that God talk'd with him, incomplete?

Read how Isaiah thought himself undone,
When he had seen God's Glory in his Son,

206

Until the Seraph with a living Coal
From off the Altar purg'd the Prophet's Soul.
Read how Ezechiel too with like Surprise,
When Heav'n was open'd to his wond'ring Eyes,
Fell on his Face at the same Glorious Sight,
Till by God's Spirit made to stand upright.
Thus, Daniel prostrate; thus, the great Divine
Who saw th' Apocalyptic Scenes;—in fine,
Thus human Strength alone could never stand,
When God appear'd, unaided by His Hand.
To urge a Reason then from Fear, to doubt
The glorious Fact that could not be without,
Only befits a feeble, faithless Mind,
To heav'nly Voice and Vision deaf and blind.

The learnèd Prelate, against whose Discourse
This Gentleman has aim'd his present Force,
Thought it absurd in any one to make
St. Peter for his own Conviction's Sake
Say that old Prophecies should be preferr'd
To God's Immediate Voice which he had heard.
Such a Comparison, he thought, became
No sober Man, much less the Saint, to frame;

207

Concluding it impossible, from hence,
That this could ever be St. Peter's Sense.

Tho' “'tis not only possible,” it seems,
“But weak, moreover,” as the Doctor deems,
“To doubt it,—a Comparison so just
“Peter not only might have made, but must.”—
And then he cites rabbinical Remarks,
To prove the Parodox from learned Clerks.
Not that he minds what any of them writes,
But most despises whom he chiefly cites.
Lightfoot's Authority,—to instance one,—
Is first, and last, and most insisted on;

“The Soundness of whose Faith,” he interjects,
“And Erudition Nobody suspects.”
Or, if the Reader wants a full Display
Of these Endowments:“Lightfoot shows the Way

208

“How, by assuming Liberty to take
“For granted straight what Premises we make,
“Whatever Notions or Opinions tend
“To favour that which we would recommend
“We may demonstrate by such Arts as these
“A Doctrine true, Divine, or what we please.”

This, Sir, is his Description of sound Faith;
Let us now see what Argument it hath.
This trusty Evidence, amongst the rest,
Is call'd to prove a Voice from Heav'n a Jest,
The Jews' Bath-Kol a cunning acted Part,
A Fable, Phantasy or Magic Art,
Voice of the Devil or of Dev'lish Elves,
To cheat the People and promote themselves.
And hence th' Apostle, is the Inf'rence drawn,
“That claims the special Notice of the Lawn,”
That comes to clear this famous Prelate's Sight,
With Reason good preferr'd prophetic Light.

209

So, introduce an Hebrew, foreign Term,
Take all for true that quoted Lines affirm,
And then assume that the Apostle too
Just thought and argued as these Critics do,—
And we may prove, from Peter's own Design,
That God the Father's Voice was not Divine!

But should the Prelate think it mere Grimace
To talk of Fable in St. Peter's Case,
Whose Words exclude it and expressly speak
Of Heav'nly Truth,—how frivolous and weak
In his more sober and sedate Esteem
Must all this Patchwork Erudition seem!
How will a Christian Bishop, too, conceive
Of what the Doctor's Margins interweave
Touching that Scripture, where our Saviour pray'd,
And Heav'n the glorifying Answer made?
While from his Note, Sir, nothing can be learn'd
But casual Thunder or Bath-Kol concern'd.

Will he not ask:“Is it this Author's Aim
Under his Bath-Kol Figments to disclaim
All Faith in Voices of an heav'nly Kind?
Is that the Purpose of his doubting Mind?

210

You see, th' Apostle is extremely clear
That such a Voice himself did really hear;
He also had such wondrous Proofs beside,
That Voice concurrent cannot be denied.
And, when our Lord had been baptis'd, there came
A Voice from Heav'n in Words the very same.
Here, in his answer'd Prayer,—tho' by Mistake
Some said “it thunder'd,” some “an Angel spake,”—
We have His own Authority Divine:
“This Voice,” said He, “came for your Sakes, not Mine.”

Would not the Bishop rightly thus oppose
Plain Scripture Facts to Learning's empty Shows?
What signifies it then upon the whole
How poor blind Jews have talk'd about Bath-Kol;
What jarring Critics of a later Day
Or Lightfoot, here thrice ridicul'd, may say,
Or Middleton himself, whose pious Care
For giftless Churches prompts him to compare
Voices from Heav'n in his assuming Page
To Miracles beyond th' Apostles Age,
Taking for granted without more ado
His wild Hypothesis about them too.

Prodigious Effort! See obstructed quite
The Gospel Promise and the Christian Right;

211

Cut off at once miraculous Supply;
All Healing ceases, when Apostles die;
No Tongue inspir'd, no Demon dispossest,—
With them the working Spirit went to rest;
Forgot the Prophecies that Christ had made,
And left Believers without signal Aid.
Altho' no Limit in what Scripture saith
Be put to Miracles but want of Faith;
Altho', without one, foolish to pretend
To know their Nature or to fix their End:
Yet, if a daring Genius advertise
That all but Scripture Miracles are Lies,
What Crowds embrace the new Belief and Hope!
It suits their Taste,—and saves them from the Pope.
Others contend that wond'rous Gifts survive
The first three Centuries, or four, or five.

212

Then, Sir, they close their jealous, partial View
And grudge Diviner Influence Its Due;
Take diff'rent Stations in the Doctor's Track,
Blaming and backing his more close Attack:
All Miracles beyond his earlier Fence
Are Want of Honesty or Want of Sense;
All Faith in Bishops, Confessors and Saints
Who witness Facts, a Christian Priest recants:
They must,—he says they must,—be Fables all
That pass the Bounds of his gigantic Wall.

Such strange Delusion if a Man embrace,
Without some Voice, some Miracle of Grace,
It is in vain to Reas'ners of the Cast
To urge the Evidence of Ages past.
With Minds resolv'd to disbelieve or doubt
Small is the Force of History throughout.
Freedom of Thought exerted and of Will,
To claim the Privilege of judging ill,
Prophets, Apostles, Martyrs cannot move,
Nor Holy Church throughout the World disprove.

But, to return.—How does his first Assault
On Miracles defend a second Fault;
Or Rabbis, or rabbinical Divines,
Help Lightfoot's Comment or his own Designs?
Lightfoot, without detracting from his Skill,
Wrote in this Instance with a careless Quill;
Such Inf'rence else had never been annext.

213

He must have seen that the Apostle's Text
Could not with Reason either good or great
Compare the Prophets with a dev'lish Cheat.
This learnèd Writer, Sir, did not attend
To Peter's Meaning, or not apprehend;
Or, if Excuse may for his Haste atone,
He did not well, perhaps, express his own.

Since by his present Citer here you see
How quite forgetful learnèd Men may be;
For, after all the Scraps he had amass'd
And this triumphant Inference at last,
“The Text,” he says, “had in St. Peter's Views
“No Ref'rence to himself, but to the Jews;”—
Not, in his Haste, aware that what he said
Knock'd all the Bath-Kol Pedantry o' th' Head;
That what he thought his borrow'd Pages won,
His own gave up, as soon as he had done.
For, if St. Peter's Words do not imply

214

What he himself was most persuaded by,
But only show what Arguments were fit
For their Attention, Sir, to whom he writ,—
The Bishop's Reas'ning, which he strives to cloud,
Is not unanswer'd only, but allow'd;
The very Thing pretended to be shown
Is by his own Confession overthrown.

Do but observe the Point in Question, Sir,
On which the Doctor makes this learned Stir:
How he, who talks of “its perpetual Change
“By others,” takes the Liberty to range.
When a Comparison was judg'd absurd,
“Peter could make no other,” was the Word;
Then, by a Contradiction plain and flat,
“Peter's Comparison could not be that;”
And then, again: “supposing that it could;”—
Thus he attempts to make the Matter good.

“Let Peter be himself assur'd,” says he,
“As fully as 'twas possible to be
“Of ev'ry Circumstance that pass'd, he might
“Have still preferr'd the old prophetic Light.
“This was a standing Evidence, and lay
“Open to cool, delib'rate Reason's Sway,—
“A firmer Argument that brought along

215

“Conviction, Sir, more permanent and strong
“To Men of sober Senses and sedate,
“Than could the Vision which his Words relate.”
Set the perplext Equivocation by
That's here involv'd, how easy the Reply
To Reasons void, if we distinguish right
Betwixt a real and reported Sight!
For be the Proof that Prophecies procure
More, to the Jews, comparatively sure,
As oft the Text is commented upon
(Thro' a Mistake, as will appear anon),—
Yet his Conviction vácates the Pretence
Of Reason, Argument, and sober Sense;
Because the Prophets, here to be compar'd
As Evidences of what God declar'd,
Could but originally hear and see,
And be as fully satisfied as he.

The Use of Reason has, I apprehend,
When full Assurance is attain'd, an End.
When we are certain that we see and hear,
And ev'ry Circumstance is plain and clear,
What can Examination teach or learn?
By what Criterion, Sir, shall we discern,
When Reason comes to be so deadly cool,
The sage Deliberator from the Fool?

216

Conceive St. Peter, if you can, entic'd—
Eye-Witness of the Majesty of Christ;
Of what the Father in the Mount had done
By showing forth the Glory of the Son,—
To disbelieve his Senses, and to pore
Some ancient standing Evidences o'er;
To see if that which, on the holy Spot,
He saw and heard, was seen and heard, or not:—
Would such a cool deliberating Plan
Have made him pass for a more sober Man?
If so, then Middleton has hit the White;
Sherlock, if not, is thus far in the right,
And well may say that no Man in his Wits
Could be attack'd by such cold reas'ning Fits.

But thus the frigid Argument is brought,
Why Peter might in full-persuaded Thought
Prefer Predictions in the ancient Law
To what himself most surely heard and saw:
“For, after all the full convincing Scene

217

“Which he had witness'd, how did he demean?—
“With Faith infirm, he shamefully denied
“His Master, seen so Greatly Glorified.”

Yes, so he did; and gave an humbling Stroke
To human Confidence in Reason's Cloak,—
Enough to lay all Syllogising Trust
In bare Conclusions only in the Dust;
An ample Proof that in a trying Hour
Ev'n Demonstration loses all its Pow'r;
That without Grace and God's Assisting Hand
In Time of Need no Evidence can stand.

Suppose a Person of the clearest Head,
In Logic Arts well grounded and well read,—
If, with a selfish Love to Truth alone,
He arm himself with Weapons all his own,
When a Temptation comes, alas! how soon
The valiant Reas'ner turns a mere Poltroon!

Peter, tho' void of Learning and of Art,
Had a courageous, had an honest Heart;
Had natural Abilities beyond
All those of which the Critics are so fond;
Had hidden Qualities beyond their Ken:
They fish for Words; he was to fish for Men.
His Faith in outward Evidence was such
That Peter trusted to himself too much.
When his Denial plainly was foretold,
What should have humbled made him grow more bold:

218

“Tho' all should be offended, yet not I!
“Not Death itself shall tempt me to deny!”

We see in him, Sir, what the utmost Height
Of boasted Reason, Evidence and Light,
Of Courage, Honesty and even Love
Could do without Assistance from Above.
It could to humbler Thoughts resist the Call;
It proudly could prefer itself to all;
It could, in short, upon Conclusions true
Do all that Numbers upon false ones do,—
Rest on itself, be confident and bounce;
And, when the Call to Suff'ring came,—renounce.

As human Resolution, Courage, Skill.
Conviction, Evidence, or what you will,
Can in their Nature only reach so far
As Things are subject to an human Bar,—
All these, tho' actuating Peter's Zeal,
To Christian Doctrine could not set the Seal.
God-like Humility, the Sacred Root
Whence ev'ry Virtue branches into Fruit,
Lays the Foundation of the Christian Life,
As Reason governs that of human Strife.
And I appeal, Sir, setting Grace aside,
How oft is human Reason human Pride,

219

Human Desire of Victory or Fame
A Babel tow'ring to procure a Name,
A Self-assurance, an untutor'd Boast,
That can but form Intention, at the most;
Which, tho' directed right, must humbly ask
Divine Assistance to perform its Task!

This Peter fail'd in, and a Servant-maid
Made him, with all his bold Resolves, afraid;
With all his sure Convictions, he began
To curse and swear, and “did not know the Man.”
Till, for a Lesson wond'rously addrest
To sink full deep into his humble Breast,
The Cock pronounc'd by an awakening Crow
Peter the Man whom Peter “did not know.”

But how, Sir, did his coward Speech betray
Doubt of his Maker's Glorious Display?
By what Account in Hist'ry are we taught
That e'er it came into its frighted Thought?
Or, since 'tis certain that he did deny,
What Prophecy did he “prefer” thereby?
'Tis, then, a cold Absurdity to draw
From Peter's Weakness this pretended Flaw;
To hint Delusion in the God-like Sight,
Because the Man was put into a Fright.

220

If from Distrust of Evidence his Fears,
From whence his bitter penitential Tears?
Whence was it that the Holy Pris'ner shook
The Soul of Peter, with One Gracious Look?
No Glory then to credit or distrust;
And yet th' Apostle's Penitence was just,
And he himself but Proof, upon the whole,
That Grace alone can fortify a Soul.

'Tis urg'd that “on the other Hand we find,
“With Faith confirm'd and with enlighten'd Mind
“After the Mission of the Holy Ghost,
“That Argument which he applied the most
“Was what he calls” (for so the Doctor too
Takes here a vulgar Error to be true),
“This “more sure Word of Prophecy,” the chief
“Of all his Motives to enforce Belief;
“From whence he prov'd that Jesus was of old
“Describ'd by all the Prophets, and foretold.”

Peter's Condition, Sir, is that of all
Who from the Heart obey the Christian Call.
They by Experience have the triple Sight
Of Weakness, Penitence, and heav'nly Light.
While others wrangle about outward Show,
Nature and Grace and Miracle, they know.

221

Tho' not inspir'd like Peter and th' Eleven,
Or struck like walking Paul by Voice from Heav'n,
They meet, what others foolishly evade,
The real Mission of celestial Aid;
Of which, howe'er the Tokens are perceiv'd,
No faithful Soul can ever be bereav'd.

What does the Share of it that Peter had
To all the Doctor's forc'd Refinements add?
Might not the Bishop justly give him back
Some Compliments bestow'd in his Attack?
Such as the “nothing but an empty Strain
“Of Rhet'ric, insignificant, and vain;”—
The “choosing not to see, of any Theme,”
“More than may suit his pre-adopted Scheme;—
The “passing over what he should confute,
With Matters foreign to the main Dispute;”—
And such-like Flow'rs, upon his Pages thrown,
That full as well become the Doctor's own.

222

For has the Bishop in his Book denied
That Prophecy was properly applied?
No; but that Peter did a Thing so odd
As to prefer it to the Voice of God.
This was the Point requir'd to be explain'd
In Contradiction to what he maintain'd;
That which the Doctor undertook to clear,
And make the Pref'rence of the Saint appear.
But while we look'd what Reasons he would bring
For so incomprehensible a Thing
As common Sense must reckon an Appeal
From what th' Almighty should Himself reveal,—
Shifting the Circumstances, Time and Place,
In short the Question, to another Case,
He tell us, not of Prophecy preferr'd
To Voice from Heav'n, which he had just averr'd,
But, how the Saint applied in his Discourse
Prophetic Words to give the Gospel Force;
How Peter argued from them, he relates,
And proves full well—what Nobody debates.

How gravely, Sir, from Fallacy so crude,
He prompts th' amusèd Reader to conclude

223

“That any Man, especially a Jew,
(As Peter was) might think the Pref'rence due;
And what himself had heard th' Almighty speak
Might be esteemed comparatively weak!”

Under the Millstone oft the struggling Page
Bestirs itself, but cannot disengage.
“At all Events resolving to confute,”
(To use his Logic) “or at least dispute,
“Its Author shows great Spirit and great Art,
“And well performs the contradicting Part.”
But in his subsequent Remarks we find
How lamely Confutation limps behind.

Fully resolv'd, and singly, to maintain
A Paradox so quite against the Grain,
The learnèd Antithaumatist must choose
“Not to instruct his Reader, but amuse;”
Whene'er he touches a prophetic Clause,
“Not to illústrate, but perplex the Cause;”
To speak some Truth that shows the favour'd Side,
And that which gives the whole Connexion hide.

224

Why else a total Silence on the Head
Of Miracles in what St. Peter said?
How could recited Prophecies alone
Prove to the Jews that Jesus was foreshown,
Had not there been that other previous Proof
To ev'ry thoughtful Jew in His Behoof;
Had not such wond'rous Facts struck up the Light,
That show'd their Application to be right?

Trace the Quotations, Sir, that Peter made,
“And see their Force impartially display'd;
“See what Solution stated Fact supplies
“Without contriv'd Evasion or Disguise!”

The first Occasion which th' Apostle took
To cite a Passage from a Prophet's Book,
Was at that public, wonderful Event,
Upon the Blessèd Spirit's first Descent.
The faithful Flock that met with one Accord
To wait the Gifts of their Ascended Lord,
Soon as the Tokens of His Presence came,
The Sound Celestial and the Sacred Flame,
Began to speak, with holy Ardour fir'd,
In various Hymns by Heav'n Itself inspir'd.
This joyful Voice of a Diviner Laud
Was spread thro' all Jerusalem abroad;
And pious Jews from ev'ry distant Clime,
Residing there that providential Time,

225

Devout Epitome of all Mankind,
Were drawn to witness that which God design'd.
His Wondrous Works as Galileans sung,
All understood the Spirit-utter'd Tongue;
Of Language, then, was no Confusion known:
Each heard this one, and heard it as his own.
God gave the Word Himself, and all the good
Shar'd in the promis'd Gift, and understood;
Tho' then astonish'd at the wond'rous Theme,
Prepar'd to spread it to the World's Extreme.

Others, insensible of Grace Divine,
Mock'd at its Influence, and talk'd of Wine:
Themselves intoxicated with that Pride
By which the deaf in Spirit still deride.
'Twas then that Peter, standing up to show
Th' absurd Reproach, gave all of them to know
That what these Mockers call'd a drunken Fit
Was God's Performance of what Joel writ
Of Days then dawning, when He would impart
His Gospel Gifts to ev'ry faithful Heart;
Pour out His Heav'nly Spirit, and refresh
Not single Nations only, but “all Flesh;”
All should partake that would of richer Grace,
Now fully purchas'd for the human Race.

226

For this was what St. Peter then, inspir'd,
Went on to show, and Argument requir'd.
The Jews all knew, Messiah was to come;
That this of all Prediction gave the Sum;—
The Question was, if it had been fulfill'd
In Jesus, Whom their wicked Hands had kill'd?

Now, to prove this, th' Apostle first applies
The Miracles perform'd before their Eyes;
God's Approbation of Him, he defines,
Was manifest by Wonders and by Signs
Done in the midst of them.—See here the Ground
Prepar'd, before he offer'd to expound
By Arguments of such immediate Force,
So plain, so striking, that they must, of Course,
Make secondly to such as should take Heed,
The Word of Prophecy more sure indeed.

And then he shews how the prophetic Word
With its exact Accomplishment concurr'd:
“What David had prophetically said
Jesus fulfill'd in rising from the Dead;
Whereof we all are Witnesses.”—Here lay
The strength of all that any Words could say;
When Numbers present could the Fact attest,
Thousands of Souls th' Accomplish'd Word confess'd,
That This was He, the Lord, the Holy One,
Whom David fix'd his Heart and Hopes upon,
And so describ'd as only could agree
To Him Whose “Flesh should no Corruption see.”
His Resurrection, you perceive, it was
That show'd the Prophet's Word now come to pass;

227

That made th' Apostle's Intimation clear:
“He shed forth this which we now see and hear.”

Again; when Peter had restor'd the lame
To perfect Soundness in our Saviour's Name,
He told the wond'ring Throng that they had slain
The Prince of Life Whom God had rais'd again.
“Whereof we are the Witnesses,” says he;
Then shows how all the Prophecies agree:
“All have successively foretold these Days,
And mark'd the Prophet whom the Lord should raise.”

So, when the Priests and Sadducees, aggriev'd
That such increasing Multitudes believ'd,
Ask'd by what Pow'r he acted, Peter said:
“By that of Jesus, risen from the Dead;
By Him this healing Miracle is wrought;”
Then quotes:“The Stone which ye have set at naught,
On this, rejected by the Builders' Hands,
As a sure Basis all Salvation stands.”
No Priest was then so impotently skill'd
As to suggest the Passage unfulfill'd;
All by the wond'rous Cure were overcome;
The living Proof was there, and struck them dumb.

In vain a Council then, as well as now,
To silence Miracles or disavow:

228

Peter and John could neither be deterr'd;
They needs must speak what they had seen and heard.
Nor Charge, nor Chains, nor meditated Death
Could stop to God's Commands th' obedient Breath;
His final Argument still Peter brings:
“We are His Witnesses of all these Things.”

This, you may read, Sir, was the real Path
That Peter trod in his confirmèd Faith;
That all the Preachers of the Gospel trod,
When they explain'd the Oracles of God;
Preach'd what themselves, without a learnèd Strife,
Saw, heard, and handled of the Word of Life,
When in their Days so mightily it grew,
And wrought such Proofs that Prophecy was true:
Which, tho' it pointed to the future Scene
And oft prefigur'd the Messiah's Reign,
Yet gave a Light comparatively dim,
That ow'd its Shining Certainty to Him.

Thus, Sir,—to come directly to the Text
With which the Critics are so much perplex'd;
Whereof the real Meaning, fairly trac'd,
Lay heaps of Paper printed on it waste,—
Had they adverted that St. Peter still
From what he saw upon the Holy Hill
Argues Apostles not to have surmis'd,
Or follow'd Fables cunningly devis'd,
But to have witness'd only what they knew
From their own Sight and Hearing to be true,

229

And to have justly gatherèd from thence
A sure Completion of prophetic Sense;
To which the Jews did rightly to attend,
Till they themselves should see it in the End;—
Had they consider'd this, they would have found
Of all their wide Perplexities the Ground;
Have soon perceiv'd that in the various Brawl
A wrong Translation was the Cause of all.

Peter makes no Comparison between
Prophetic Word and what himself had seen,
As if he thought the Vision in the Mount
Less sure to him upon his own Account.
This is a Stretch by which the Doctor meant
“Of public Patience, sure, to try th' Extent;”
Or (still to copy so polite a Clown)
“To try how far his Nonsense would go down.
“To say the Truth, his Pages indevout
“Have furnish'd Matter of Offence throughout;
“But here, from knowing what the World would bear,
“Grown without Ceremony quite severe,”
He would oblige his Readers to admit
A thing that shocks or plain or critic Wit,—

230

That dark old Prophecy, in Peter's Choice,
Was held more sure than God's Immediate Voice.
They must admit, or else they must be weak,
Something more sure than Truth Itself could speak!

Nor does St. Peter, as the learnèd gloze,
Speaking to Jewish Converts here suppose
That they would think comparative Distrust
Of an Apostle's own Experience just.
No true Construction of the Text can guide
To such Suspicion, Sir, on either Side.

His Words import directly, if you seek
Their genuine meaning of the vulgate Greek
And mind the previously related Scene,—
His Words, I say, most evidently mean:
“We saw the Glory, heard the Voice, and thus
Have the prophetic Word made sure to us;
Which ye do well to follow as a Spark
That spreads a Ray through Places that are dark;
Till ye with us enjoy the perfect Light
And want no Prophecies to set you right.”

An English Reader may be led, indeed,
To think that, as th' Apostle's Words proceed
With “we have also,” it was something more,
Some surer Proof than what had gone before.
But “also,” tho' without Italics read,
Is an Addition to what Peter said.

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It only shows how our Translation fail'd
And made the Blunder that has since prevail'd;
Which, tho' sufficiently provok'd to mend,
The learned still choose rather to defend.

A Writer,—whose freethinking Schemes incite
The Bishop and the Doctor both to write;
Who had, it seems in Prophecies a Rule
First to extol, and then to ridicule,—
Took, Sir, his Stand on this corrupted Place,
From whence he both might heighten and disgrace.
One Point the vulgar Error gain'd alone;
While for the other he employ'd his own.
Ingenious Authors answer'd him apace,
But got no Triumph in this knotty Place.
Good Sense oblig'd them wholly to reject
St. Peter's Pref'rence in his own Respect;
Collins himself th' Absurdity forbore;
That Height was left for Middleton to soar.
But still some other they suppos'd there was,—
Something that Prophecy must needs surpass.
What it was not, they easily could see;
But what it was, scarce two of them agree.
Intent some kind of Pref'rence to provide,
Which “also” plainly and “more sure” implied,
All by an Error, which the simple Thought
Of const'ring right had rectified, were caught.

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In this Mistake the Bishop too has shar'd,
Asserting Prophecy indeed compar'd
And by St. Peter to the Voice preferr'd
Which he himself upon the Mount had heard.
“Yet not,” says he, “as that Freethinker meant;
The Words relate but to that One Event
That stands upon prophetical Record,
To wit, the Glorious Coming of our Lord.”

But, one or all, to make a surer Word
Than Heav'nly Demonstration is absurd
And glaring in the Instance that he chose,
Because that Coming, as the Context shows,
Was of “such Majesty” as Peter knew
That Christ was really cloth'd with in his View,
And therefore could not possibly say “We
Have also something surer than to see:
We were Eye-Witnesses of what we preach,
Yet think more certain what the Prophets teach.”

He contradicts, in splitting on the Shelf
Of our Translation, Peter and himself:

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The Saint,—by such Restriction of his own
As was by him unthought of and unknown;
Himself,—who says that Peter in this Place,
Admitting Gospel Truth to be the Case,
Far from preferring the Prophetic Test,
Has manifestly said 'twas not the best.

And of all Gospel Truths that you can name
This “Glorious Coming” is the one great Aim,
The Sum and Substance with Respect to Man
Of Heav'nly Purpose since the World began.
Divine Intention could no more have been
For Christ to suffer, than for Man to sin;
Tho', since that fatal Accident befell,
Incarnate Love would save him from a Hell;
Whereas His “Glorious Reign” amongst Mankind
Might from their first Existence be design'd,
And, since his Suff'ring, Saving Advent past,
What Sense of Justice can deny the last?
“His Reigning Glory,” were the Prophets dumb,
All Things in Nature cry aloud, “will come.”

Besides, what better does the Text afford,
To any tolerable Sense restor'd,—

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Compare, prefer, or construe how you will,—
Than that Divine Appearance on the Hill;
That ascertaining in a Heav'nly Light
Our Saviour's Glory by a present Sight;
That Record which the Father thereupon
Gave of His Son to Peter, James and John,
So full of Proofs that, let what will be chief,
Doubt is too near akin to Disbelief?

The Doctor says, “'tis surely no Offence
“To true Religion or to common Sense,
“To think that, tracing Circumstances out,
“Perplext Apostles might be left in Doubt.”
Yet may a serious Reader think it is
From one plain Circumstance, and that is this:—
When they descended from the Sacred Place
After partaking of this Heav'nly Grace,
Our Saviour charg'd them that they should not tell
To any Man the Vision that befell,
Till He Himself was risen from the Dead.
The Vision, then,—if He knew what He said,—
Was true and real; while, if you complete
The Doctor's Hints of possible Deceit,
To give his rash Reflexions any Force,
Our Lord Himself must be deceiv'd, or worse.
Such Things would follow;—but the horrid Train
Is too offensive even to explain.

In fine, these Comments which the Learnèd make
On Peter's Words, are owing to Mistake;

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Those which the Doctor has been pleas'd to frame
Upon his whole Behaviour, are the same.
Nor is more Learning needful in the Case
Than to consult the untranslated Place.
The Phrase, you'll see, asserts what I assert,
And leaves no Critic Room to controvert.
Grotius, whose Paraphrase the Doctor quotes,
Gives it this Meaning in his learnèd Notes:
“The Word of Prophecy we all allow
To be of great Authority, but now
With us much greater, who have seen th' Event
So aptly correspond with its Intent.”
This paves the Way to a becoming Sense
And overthrows our Author's vain Pretence:
“Vain Art and Pains employ'd upon the Theme,
“To dress up an imaginary Scheme:
“Of which, the whole New Testament around,
“Nor Foot nor Footstep, Sir, is to be found.”

Tradition—tho' of Apostolic Kind,
Such as was Enoch's Prophecy—you find
Contemptuously call'd “I know not what,”
Tho' by St. Jude so plainly pointed at.

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Because, if Jude's Authority be good,
Prophets existed long before the Flood;
That glorious Advent, set so oft in View,
Both in the ancient Scriptures and the new,
Of Him Who first was promis'd at the Fall,
Hope of all Ages, was foretold in all.
If Enoch and if Noah preach'd away,
Was Adam, think ye, silent in his Day?
Had he no Loss to tell his Children then,
No Saving Righteousness to preach to Men?
Did God ordain two Saviours, in the Case
Of ante- and of post-diluvian Race?
Let oral mention or let written fail:
If good,—that is, if christian—Sense prevail,
It never can permit us to reject
Consistency of Truth for their Defect.
One God, One Saviour and One Spirit still
Recurs, let Bookworms reason as they will.
Whatever saves a Man from being curst,
What Man can say, God hid it from the first?
Or, if he does, and talks as if he knew,
Will want of Writings prove that he says true?
With or without them Fancy can take aim;
If wanting, triumph, or, if not, disclaim;—

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Let them abound, no Miracles make out;
Let them be silent, make Apostles doubt.

The two main Pillars of his whole Discourse
Whereon the Doctor seems to rest its Force,
And begs the Reader, Sir, to recollect
In his Conclusion, are to this Effect:
“That Gospel Proofs on Prophecies relied,
“Singly and independently applied;
“And that the first, from whom its Preachers draw
“Their Proof of Christ, is Moses in the Law.”
Both which St. Peter's Evidence, again,
Shows to be Slips of his too hasty Pen.
For when th' Apostle at the Temple Gate
Restor'd the Cripple to a perfect State,
And took Occasion from the healèd Lame
To preach the Gospel in our Saviour's Name,
Thus he bespake the People that stood by:
“God by the Mouth”—(observe the Sacred Tie!)—
“Of all His Prophets hath foreshown His Son,
Jesus, by Whom this Miracle is done.”

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Which of them singly then did Peter cite,
What Independency, where all unite;
Where all predicted, as one Spirit bid,
That “Christ should suffer,” as He really did;—

“And enter into Glory;”—for that next
The Preacher speaks to in the following Text:
Where, in his Exhortation to repent,
“Jesus,” he tells them, “shall again be sent;
Heav'ns must receive Mankind's Appointed Head,
Till Time hath done whatever God hath said
By all His Prophets since the World began;—”
For so the Sense, without curtailing, ran?
Of which the Doctor quoting but a Part,
Has yet dissolv'd the Charm of all his Art;
Since all the Prophets—let the World begin
With Moses, if he will,—are taken in
And, join'd together, must, whate'er he thinks,
Produce a Chain, however few the Links.

'Tis true, he afterwards begins to quote;
And, first, “the Prophet of whom Moses wrote;”
Adding, that “all who in Succession came
Had likewise spoken of the very same.”
“The same;”—see how prophetic Words conspire,—
God's Own, predicted to the Jewish Sire;

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“And in thy Seed,” so Peter's Words attest,
“Shall all the Kindreds of the Earth be blest.”
Proofs of our Saviour Christ you see him draw
From in, from after, from before the Law.

What can be said in Answer, Sir, to this?
The Fact is plain, tho' Peter judg'd amiss;
For, “such defect,” he scruples not to own,
“Collins against th' Evangelist has shown:
“The very Gospels have some Proofs assign'd
Of loose, precarious, and uncertain Kind.”
This Unbeliever,—in the shocking Terms,
In which his Cause a Clergyman confirms,—
“Has Arguments unanswerably strong
“To prove their Manner of applying wrong;
“Altho', whatever Difficulties lie
“Against the Way wherein they shall apply,
“It is the best which, of all other Ways,
“The Case affords;”—so runs his rev'rend Phrase!
So Deist and Divine, but both in vain,
Seek to unfasten the prophetic Chain!

Should the New Testament be treated so
By one whose Character we did not know,
Might not the Language miss its aim'd Effect,
And rather tempt the Reader to suspect

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That some presumptuous Mocker and self-will'd
Had Enoch's, Jude's, and Peter's Words fulfill'd?

To clear a tortur'd Passage from abuse
This good Effect may possibly produce:
That when a Writer of the modern Mode
Shall cast Reflexions on the Sacred Code,
Men will not merely upon sudden Trust
In bold Assertions take them to be just;
Since it may be that he has only made
Of great Mistakes a critical Parade;
Has only spoken Evil of those Things
Of which he does not really know the Springs;
Has met with Matters high above his reach,
And, scorning to be taught, presum'd to teach,
Raising about them an affected Cry,
That ends in nothing but a “Who but I?”

“Bare Prophecy,” the Doctor has profess'd,
“Admits Completion only for its Test;
“Th' Event foretold by it must also be
“What human Prudence never could foresee,
“Nor human Power produce; or else no Sign
“Could thence appear of Agency Divine.”

Prophecy, then, as his Descriptions own,
Can be made sure by Miracles alone:

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It is what he himself is pleas'd to call,
While unfulfill'd, no Evidence at all.
How is it, then, in his repeated Term
Of “standing Evidence” more sure and Firm?
How is this consonant to “standing” still
As none at all, till Miracles fulfil?
If it has none till they are overpast,
Is not the Evidence from them at last?
From them prophetic Word, before obscure,
Becomes an Evidence confirm'd and sure;
Its Truth is first demónstrated, and then
Reflects its Light on Miracles again.

A hungry Question, therefore, to enquire,
Of two great Proofs that actually conspire
Which is the best; when, with united Light,
They both produce an Evidence so bright.
But the Freethinker, “with a crafty View,”
(If what his learn'd Assistant says be true)
“Had rais'd prophetic Credit to Excess,
“In order more securely to depress;
“And for this Cause his Lordship undertook
“To write, it seems, at all Events, a Book.”

This being, then, the Motive which he had,
A Reader asks “What is there in it bad?”

242

With what Decorum does a Priest accuse
A Bishop writing against “crafty” Views,—
Views of an Enemy to Gospel Truth?
Is the defending of him less uncouth?
Does such Defence, with such a Rudeness writ,
The Priest, the Bishop or the Cause befit,—
So interlarded with that loose Reproach
Which want of Argument is wont to broach;
So deeply ting'd the Ciceronian Style
With, what the Critics commonly call Bile,
That they, who thought it worth their while to seek
The Author's Motive, judg'd it to be Pique.

Soon as you enter on the Work, you see
An instant Sample what the whole will be.
First, “being jealous of the Bishop's Views,
“His Book for Years he dar'd not to peruse,
“Afraid to trust so eminent a Guide,
“For fear his Judgment should be warp'd aside;”
Tho' quite secure;—“for he had ever found
“Authority to be a treach'rous Ground;
“And even this—this capital Affair,”
That was to lead his Judgment to a Snare,
“He found—and just as he expected too,

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Who fear'd before a Bias from his View,”—
When graciously inclin'd to see it since,—
“Quite of a Kind that never can convince;”
Which, to be sure, afforded Reason good
To write a Book against it, lest it should.

Had any other Author, less polite,
With vulgar Phrase attempted thus to write,
And thus begun so fine a Scheme to spin,
“The Reas'ners of this World had broken in,
“Rudely unravell'd all his fine-spun Scheme,”
And sent him forth to seek another Theme.

How suited this to any good Design
That should engage a Christian, a Divine!
But what are Names, if “not a single one
Be worth Regard, for sixteen Ages gone;”
If “to enquire what any of them say
Be,” as he thinks, “but wasting Time away;”—
Himself excepted in the modest Creed,
Unless he writes for Nobody to read?

Sure, of all treach'rous Guides, the greatest Cheat
Is that of wild, unchristian Self-conceit!
Possess'd by this domestic, inbred Pride,
The wise Freethinkers scorn the Name of Guide.

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Their own Sufficiency with Eyes their own
Clearly beheld, they trust to that alone,
Resolv'd no other Maxims to imbibe
Than what their Reason and their Sense prescribe,—
That is, Themselves; for what a Man calls his
In such a Case is really what he is;
Choose how refin'd an Egotist may be,
His Reason, Judgment, Mind, and Sense is he.
In such Confinement if he sits enthrall'd,—
No Matter by what Title he is call'd,—
Blind as a Sadducee to Heav'nly Light,
He will believe his own Conceptions right;
No Prophecy to him can seem more sure,
Nor Miracle attested work his Cure.
That of Conversion from his own dark Mind
Must first convince him that he once was blind;
Then may he see with salutary Grief
The dire Effects of wretched Unbelief.
Looser and looser from all sacred Ties,
To what strange Heights a self-taught Sophist flies!

Friendship to Doctor Middleton sincere
Must, if exerted, wish him to forbear
A Kind of writing on the Christian Cause,
That gains him no desirable Applause;
That, whether meant or not, may unawares
Involve a Reader in freethinking Snares,—
Involve himself. If frequent the Relapse,
A Teacher of Divinity, perhaps,

245

May run the Risk of being quite bereft,
Of having nothing but the Habit left.

May that which teaches rightly to divide
The Word of Truth, be his petition'd Guide;
Or, if resolv'd at present to pursue
At future Leisure a mistaken Clue,
May future Leisure—an uncertain Date,—
If granted, find him in a better State!

PETER'S DENIAL OF HIS MASTER.

I

“Tho' all forsake Thee, Master, yet not I;
I'll go to Prison with Thee, or to die,”
Said Peter;—yet how soon did he deny!

II

A striking Proof, that even to good-Will
The Help of Grace is necessary still
To save a Soul from falling into Ill.

III

His Master told him how the Case would be;
But Peter could not see himself, not he!
Till Grace withdrew, that he might come to see.

246

IV

Peter, so valiant on a selfish Plan,
Quite frighted by a Servant-maid, began
To curse and swear, and “did not know the Man!”

V

'Twas thus that “Satan sifted him like Wheat,”
And made him think his Courage was so great;
While Jesus pray'd that he might see the Cheat.

VI

High-minded in himself, he fell,—how low,
The Cock instructed him, foretold to crow:
His real Self then Peter came to know.

VII

He that “would die with Him, tho' all forsook,”
Dissolv'd in Tears, when Jesus gave a Look,
And learn'd Humility by Love's Rebuke.

VIII

Lesson for us is plain from Peter's Case,
That real Virtue is the Work of Grace,
And of its Height Humility the Base.

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FAMILIAR EPISTLES TO A FRIEND,

UPON A SERMON ENTITLED THE OFFICE AND OPERATIONS OF THE HOLY SPIRIT, BY THE REV. MR. WARBURTON.

249

LETTER I.

A strange Discourse in all impartial Views
This which you lent me, Doctor, to peruse.
Had you not ask'd, a Subject of this Sort
Might of itself a few Remarks extort,
To show how much a very learnèd Man
Has been mistaken in his preaching Plan.

Preaching—a Talent of the Gospel Kind,—
By “preaching Peace through Jesus Christ” defin'd,
Should, one would think, in order to increase
The Gospel Good, confine itself to Peace;

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Exert its milder Influence, and draw
The list'ning Crowds to Love's united Law.
For, should the greatest Orator extend
The Pow'rs of Sound to any other End,
Regard to healing Sentiments postpone,
And battle all that differ from his own:
Tho' he could boast of Conquest, yet how far
From “Peace through Jesus” through himself is War;
How widely wanders from the true Design
Of preaching Christ the bellicose Divine!

If amongst them who all profess Belief
In the same Gospel such a warlike Chief
Should in the Pulpit labour to erect
His glaring Trophies over ev'ry Sect
That does not just fall in with his Conceit,
And raise new Flourish upon each Defeat,—
As if, by dint of his haranguing Strain,
So many Foes had happily been slain:
Tho' it were sure that what he said was right,
Is he more likely, think you, to invite,
To win th' erroneous over to his Mind,
By Eloquence of such an hostile Kind,
Or to disgrace, by Arts so strongly weak,
The very Truths that he may chance to speak?

Like Thoughts to these would naturally rise
Out of your own occasional Surprise,
When, purchasing the Book, you dipt into't
And saw the Preacher's Manner of Dispute:

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How, Man by Man, and Sect by Sect display'd,
He pass'd along from Preaching to Parade;
Confuting all that came within his Way,
Tho' too far off to hear what he should say.
Reason, methinks, why Candour would not choose,
Where no Defence could follow, to accuse;
Where gen'rous Triumph no Attacks can yield
To the unquestion'd Master of the Field,
Where Names, tho' injur'd without Reason why,
Absent or present, can make no Reply
To the most false or disingenuous Hint,
Till Time, perchance, produces it in Print;
When, we may take for granted, it is clad
In its best Fashion, tho' it be but bad!

This one Discourse is printed, we are told,
The Main of sev'ral Sermons to unfold.
For one grand Subject all of them were meant,—
The Holy Spirit, Whom the Father sent;
Th' Indwelling Comforter, th' Instructing Guide;
“Who was,” Christ said, “for ever to abide
With and in His Disciples here below,”
And teach them all that they should want to know.

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A glorious Theme,—a comfortable one
For Preachers to exert themselves upon,
First taught themselves, and fitted to impart
God's Truth and Comfort to an honest Heart!
Some such at least imagine to have been
Amongst the Flock that came to Lincoln's Inn,
With a sincere Desire to hear and learn
That which became a Christian's chief Concern;
Pleas'd with the Preacher's Text, with Hopes that he
Might prove an Instrument in some Degree
Of their Perception of an holy Aid,
Fruit of that Promise which the Saviour made;
Might help them more and more to understand
How near true Help and Comfort is at Hand;
How soon the Spirit moves upon the Mind,
When it is rightly humbled and resign'd:
With what a Love to ev'ry Fellow-soul
One Member of the Church regards the Whole;
Looks upon all Mankind as Friends, or shares
To heartiest Enemies his heartier Pray'rs.

I might go on; but you, I know, will grant,
Such is the Temper that we really want;
And such, if Preachers ever preach indeed,
If Pastors of a Flock will really feed,
They will endeavour solely to excite,
And move divided Christians to unite,

253

If not in outward Forms that but supply
A loftier Babel without inward Tie,
Yet in a common Friendliness of Will,
That wishes well to ev'ry Creature still;
That makes the Centre of Religion's Plan
A God-like Love embracing ev'ry Man.

LETTER II.

No Office seems more sacred and august
Than that of Preachers who fulfil their Trust,
Working with God, and helping Men to find
The Prince of Life, the Saviour of Mankind,
Who “came Himself a Preacher from on high
Of Peace to all, the distant and the nigh.”

So said the Saint, whose preaching was the same
To Jew, to Greek,—Salvation thro' His Name,—
Who taught thro' Him to preach immortal Life,
Avoiding Questions that engender Strife;
Patient, and meek, and gentle unto all,
Instructing ev'n Opposers without Gall,
If peradventure God might give them Grace
The Truth, when kindly offer'd, to embrace.

If these Conditions Preaching may demand,
What must we think of the Discourse in Hand?
Which, when we read, is apter to suggest
A diff'rent Temper in the Preacher's Breast;
A Text perverted from its native Scope,

254

A Disappointment of all hearing Hope?
Here is a long Dispute, in his first Head,
About what Doctor Middleton had said;
That “when the Gift of Tongues was first bestow'd,
“'Twas but an instantaneous Sign that show'd
“The Gospel's chosen Minister; and then,
“That Purpose signified, it ceas'd again;
“So was its Type, the fiery Tongue, a Flash
“Of Light'ning quickly vanish'd,”—and such Trash;
To which a Minister, who knew the Press,
Ill chose the Time when preaching to digress;
To take a Text affording thro' the Whole
Such grounds of Comfort to a christian Soul,
And then neglect, to preach a poor Debate
That could but shine at pamphleteering Rate;
That from the Pulpit must disgust the Pew
Of sager Bench, and sober Students too.

You may, hereafter, if you choose it, see
How they mistook, both Middleton and he,

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The Gift of Tongues; how little quite throughout
They knew, tho' learnèd, what they were about.
In present Lines, I shall but just relate
One Instance of the not uncommon Fate
Of learnèd Men who, in deep Points exact,
Forget sometimes the most apparent Fact.

Th' Apostles, gifted by the Holy Ghost,
Began to speak with Tongues at Pentecost;
“But did not,” so the Preacher says, “begin
To speak, before the Multitude came in.”
He urges roundly how in this Respect
“The learned Middleton did not reflect,
“That in a private Room they all were set,
“And Tongues not spoken till the People met.”

Now, if you read the Pentecostal Facts,
As you will find them written in the Acts.
From his Reflexion tho' the Point lay hid,
The Text affirms expressly that they did.

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No Learning wanted to determine this;
'Tis what a reading Child could never miss.
This very Gift, it is exceeding clear,
Was that which brought the Multitude to hear:
“Speaking with Tongues” foregoing Words proclaim,
The next, “when this was nois'd abroad, they came.”

Scarce to be thought that, studying the Case,
With formal Purpose to explain a Place,
A Man so learnèd and acute could make,
Could preach, could publish, such a flat Mistake.
But 'tis the Fate of great and eager Wits
To trust their Memory too much by Fits.

To prove that Middleton's Dispute was wrong
Takes up the Pages, for a Sermon, long.
Soon after this you'll see another start,
To fill his First Division's Second Part.
For, having touch'd upon the Names of all
The Gifts enumerated by Saint Paul,
Then, in what Sense the Scripture was inspir'd,
Higher or lower, comes to be enquir'd.
The high he calls “organical;” the low
“Partial and true,” as he proceeds to show.

257

This is the Summary of what is said
Touching the Holy Ghost in his first Head,
As “Guide to Truth” and aiding to excite,
To clear, to give the Understanding Light.
What makes it Sermon is the Text prefixt,
Tho' scarce a Word of it is intermixt;—
Consistently enough, for it has none
Which suit the Topics that he dwells upon,—
Topics without a Dignity to grace
Text, Office, Audience, Person, Time, or Place!

But, were this all, and did not what he spake
Lead by Degrees to serious Mistake,
Taking a Text for Form's Sake, to prepare

258

The Church to hear some Shop-renown'd Affair—
Too oft the Turn of the polite Divine!—
Would hardly merit your Regard or mine.
But, Sir, it is not only misapplied,
This glorious Text, but in effect denied
Or misconceiv'd; and therefore, cutting short
At present Errors of less fatal Sort,
Let us pursue this Subject in the next,
And from the Sermon vindicate the Text.

LETTER III.

You wonder'd much why any Man of Parts
Would use in Preaching low, invective Arts;
By which the vain Disputings that infest
The Christian World have seldom been supprest,
But often heighten'd, and that use destroy'd
For which fine Talents ought to be employ'd.

If one can judge from reading this Divine,—
Whose Parts and Talents would be really fine,
If juster Notions of the Heav'nly Grace
Taught but the earthly not to quit their Place,—
If one can judge, I say, from stated Laws
In his Discourses what should be the Cause
Of such Perversion of a lively Wit
In erudite Possessors, this is it:

They think that now Religion's sole Defence
Is Learning, History and critic Sense;

259

That with Apostles as a needful Guide
The Holy Spirit did indeed abide;
But, having díctated to them a Rule
Of Faith and Manners for the Christian School,
Immediate Revelation ceas'd, and Men
Must now be taught by apostolic Pen;
Canon of Scripture is complete, and they
May read, and know what Doctrine to obey.
To look for Inspiration is absurd;
The Spirit's Aid is in the written Word:
They who pretend to His Immediate Call,
From Pope to Quaker, are Fanatics all.

Thus, having prov'd at large to Christians met
What no one Christian ever doubted yet,
That the New Testament was really writ
By Inspiration, which they all admit,
He then subjoins that “this inspir'd Recórd
“Fulfill'd the Promise of our Blessed Lord;”—
Fulfill'd it “eminently,” is the Phrase;—
“For tho' the Faithful, in succeeding Days
“Occasionally find in ev'ry Place
“The Spirit's ordinary Help, and Grace,
“His Light Supreme, His constant, fixt Abode,
“Is in the Scriptures of this Sacred Code.

This was the Sense, not easy to explore,
When, reck'ning up the Spirit's Fruits before,

260

“Scripture,” said he (which this Account explains)
“Does not record them only, but contains,”—
“CONTAINS,” in Capitals: as if he took
The Scripture to be something more than Book,—
Something alive, wherein the Spirit dwelt,
That did not only tell His Fruits, but felt.
“The sure Deposit of the Spirit's Fruits
“In Holy Scripture,” he elsewhere computes,
“Fulfill'd the Saviour's Promise in a Sense
“Very sublime.”—So it should seem from hence,
That “eminently,” and “sublimely,” thus
The Holy Spirit should abide with Us.

If I mistake him, or misrepresent,
You'll shew me where, for 'tis not with Intent.
I want, if possible, to understand
A Sentence coming from so fam'd a Hand.
Tho' plain the Words, 'tis difficult to solve
What christian Sense he meant them to involve;
In ev'ry Way that Words and Sense agree,
'Tis perfect Bibliolatry to me.

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No Image-Worship can be more absurd
Than idolising thus the written Word,
Which they who wrote intended to excite
Attention to our Lord's Predicted Light,—
To that same Spirit, leading human Thought,
By Which themselves, and all the good were taught
Preaching that Word, which a Diviner Art,
Which God Himself had written on the Heart.

How can the best of Books,—for 'tis confest
That of all Books the Bible is the best,—
Do any more than give us an Account
Of what was said, for Instance, on the Mount;
Of what was done, for Instance, on the Cross,
In order to retrieve the human Loss?
What more than tell us of the Spirit's Aid,
Far as His Fruits by Words can be display'd?
But Words are only the recording Part;
The Things contain'd must needs be in the Heart.
Spirit of God no more in Books demands
To dwell Himself, than “Temples made with Hands.”

“Fruits of the Spirit,” as St. Paul defin'd,
“Are Love, Joy, Peace,”—the Blessings of the Mind,
The Proofs of His “Abiding.”—Who can brook

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A meek, a gentle, good, long-suff'ing Book;
Or let true Faith and Temperance be sunk
To Faith in Writings, that are never drunk?
In fine, whatever Pen and Ink presents
Can but contain historical Contents;
Nor can the Fruits of Spirit be in Print
In any Sense, but as recorded in't.

Plain as this is, and strange, as you may think,
The learnèd Worship paid to Pen and Ink,
It is the main Hypothesis, you'll find,
On which are built Discourses of this Kind;
Which yet can give us for a Scripture Clue
What contradicts its very Letter too,
As this has done—be shown, as we go on,
By these important Verses of St. John!

LETTER IV.

The Gospel's simpler Language being writ,
Not for the Sake of Learning or of Wit,
But to instruct the pious and the meek,—
When its Intent mere Critics come to seek,
We find on plain intelligible Text
The variorum Comments most perplext.

Such is the Text before us, and so plain
The Saviour's Promise which the Words contain,
That Men for modern Erudition's Sake
Must read and study to acquire Mistake;
Must first observe the Notions that prevail
Amongst the famous in their Church's Pale,—

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Firm in the Prejudice, that all is right
Which Books or Persons most in Vogue recite;
Then seek to find how Scripture coincides
With each Decision of their knowing Guides.

Without some such Preparatives as these,
How could the forc'd Interpretation please
That makes a Sacred Promise to bestow
Perpetual Aid exhausted long ago,
In one short Age? For God's Abiding Guide
Withdrew, it seems, when the Apostles died,
And left poor Millions ever since to seek
How dissonant Divines had construed Greek.

In graver Writers one has often read
What in Excuse of Book-worship is said:
“It is not Ink and Letter that we own
“To be Divine, but Scripture's Sense alone;
“We have the Rule which the Apostles made,
“And no Occasion for immediate Aid.”—
Suppose, for once, the gross Delusion true,—
What must a plain and honest Christian do?
The Spirit's Aid how far must he extend,
To bring his Saviour's Promise to an End?
This he perceives Discourse to dwell upon,
And yet “for ever to abide” has none.
He for the Sake of Safety would be glad
To have that Spirit which Apostles had;
Not one of them has writ but says, “he may;”
That “tis the Bliss for which he ought to pray:”
That “God will grant it him,” his Saviour said,

264

“Sooner than Parents give their Children Bread.”
If reading Scripture can improve a Soul,
This is the Sum and Substance of the whole,
And gives it Value of such high Degree.
For, tho' as Sacred as a Book can be,
'Tis only so, because it best revives
Thought of that Good which animated Lives;
Because its Authors were inspir'd to write,
And saw the Truth in Its own Heav'nly Light;
Because it sends us to that Promis'd Source
Of Light and Truth, Which govern'd their Discourse,
The Holy Spirit's Ever-present Aid,
“With us, and in us”—so the Saviour pray'd—
That, when He left the World, the Holy Ghost
Might dwell with Christians, as an Inward Host;
That Teaching, Truth, and Comfort in the Breast
Might be secur'd by this Abiding Guest.

“Yes; with Apostles.”—Sunk by such a Thought
Th' inestimable Treasure down to Naught!
An History of Sunshine may as soon
Make a blind Man to see the shining Noon,
As Writings only without inward Light
Can bring the World's Redemption into Sight.
Jesus, the Christ, the very Book has shown,
Without the Holy Spirit none can own;—
In Words, they may; but, what is plainly meant,
They cannot give a real Heart-Consent.

265

What Friend to Scripture, then, Sir, can displace
This Inward Witness of Redeeming Grace,
And rest the Gospel on such outward View,
As any Turk may rest his Koran too?
Nay, he can own a written Word or Work
That Christians do, and yet continue Turk.

Why do the Christian Disputants so fill
The World with Books of a polemic Skill,
When 'tis the Sacred, and acknowledg'd one
That all their jarring Systems build upon,—
But that the Spirit does not rule their Wit,
By Which at first the Sacred one was writ,
Of Whose Support great Scholars stand in need
As much as they who never learnt to read?
Unhappy they, but for that Living Guide,
Whom God Himself has promis'd to provide,—
A Guide, to quote the blessèd Text again,
“For ever to abide” with Christian Men!

Fond of its Books, poor Learning is afraid
And higher Guidance labours to evade.
Books have the Spirit in Supreme Display;
Men but in lower, ordinary Way!

266

This strange Account of Men and Books is true,
It seems, “according to the Promise” too!

Such wild Conceits all Men have too much Wit,
Or learnèd or unlearnèd, to admit;
But, when some Interest or Custom rules
And chains obsequious Wills to diff'rent Schools,
The wisest then, Sir, will relinquish Thought,
And speak like Parrots just as they are taught.—
What this should be, what spends in vain the Fire
Of brisker Tempers, let us next enquire.

LETTER V.

When Christians first receiv'd the joyful News,
“Messiah come,” unmixt with worldly Views;
When the whole Church with Heav'nly Grace was blest,
And from the Spirit Comforter possess'd
One Heart, one Mind, one View to common Good:
Then was the real Gospel understood.

“Then was the Time,”—to cite what you will find
The Preacher noting—“when the World combin'd

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“Its Pow'rs against it, but could not destroy;
“When holy Martyrs with enraptur'd Joy
“Encounter'd Death, enabled to sustain
“Its utmost Terror and its utmost Pain.
“At such a Juncture Heav'n's uncommon Aid
“Shone forth, to help Humanity display'd.

“But now”—his Reason for abated Grace
Diff'rence of primitive and present Case,—
“Now, Ease and Honour” (mind the Maxim, Friend!)
“On the Profession of the Faith attend.
“At first establish'd by Diviner Means,
“On human Testimony now it leans;
“Supports itself, as other Facts must do
“That rest on human Testimony too;
“Sufficient Strength is the Conviction there,
“To make the present Christian persevere.

Here lies the Secret that may soon unfold
Why modern Christians fall so short of old;
Why they appear to have such diff'rent Looks,
The Men of Spirit and the Men of Books.
When Racks and Gibbets, Torment and Distress
Attended them who ventur'd to confess,
They had, indeed, a fixt and firm Belief,
To die for One Who suffer'd like a Thief;
Stretch'd on the Wheel, or burning in the Flame,
To preach a Crucified Redeemer's Name.
Courage like this compendious Proof supplied
Of Heav'ns true Kingdom, into which they died.
Thus was the Wisdom of the World struck dumb,
And all the Pow'rs of Darkness overcome;

268

Gospel prevail'd by its internal Light,
And gave the Subject for the Pen to write.

But when the World with a more fatal Plan
To flatter what it could not force began;
When “Ease” and “Honour,” as the Preacher saith,
Attended the Profession of the Faith:
Then wrought its Mischief in the too secure
The secret Poison, slower, but more sure.
Commodious Maxims then began to spread,
And set up Learning in the Spirit's Stead;
The Life diminish'd, as the Books increas'd,
Till Men found out that Miracles were ceas'd;
That, with respect to Succours more sublime,
The Gospel Promise was but for a Time;
That Inspiration amongst Men of Sense
Was all a mere fanatical Pretence,—
And divers like Discoveries, that grant
To “Ease” and “Honour” just what Faith they want;—

Faith to profess that wond'rous Things of old
Did really happen, as the Books have told;
But with a Caution, never to allow
The Possibility of happ'ning now:
For, as the World went on, it might affect
An honourable Ease in some respect,
To own celestial Comfort still inspir'd,
And suff'ring Courage as at first requir'd,—
Quite proper then, but equally unfit,
When once the sacred Canon had been writ.
For upon that (is gravely here averr'd)
Part of the Spirit's Office was transferr'd;
Books once compos'd, th' Illuminating Part

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He ceas'd Himself, and left to human Art
To find within His Scriptural Abode
Th' Enlight'ning Grace that Presence once bestow'd.

These Suppositions if a Man suppose,
You see th' immediate Consequence that flows:
That Men and Churches afterwards attack'd
Are pre-demolish'd by asserted Fact;
Which, once advanc'd, may with the greatest Ease
Condemn whatever Christians he shall please;
Owing to his Forbearance in some Shape,
If aught th' extensive Havoc shall escape.

With such a Fund of Learning, and a Skill
To make it serve what Argument he will;
With choice of Words for any chosen Theme;
With an Alertness rulingly supreme,—
What, Sir, can single Persons or a Sect,
When he is pleas'd to preach at 'em, expect?

Just what they meet with in the present Case:
All the dogmatic Censure and Disgrace
That a commanding Genius can exert,
When it becomes religiously alert,—
With narrow Proofs, and Consequences wide,
Sets all Opponents of its Rote aside;
The Papists first, and then th' inferior Fry,
Fanatics, vanquish'd with a “Who but I?”

270

These are the modish Epithets that strike
At true Religion and at false alike;
Of these Reproaches Infidels are full,
Their Use in others verging down to dull.—
How one, who is no Infidel, applies
The hackney'd Terms, may next salute your Eyes.

LETTER VI.

By “Reformation from the Church of Rome”
We mean, “from Faults and Errors,” I presume.
Against her Truths to prosecute a War
Is protestant Aversion push'd too far;
In them, should “Ease” and “Honour” not attend
The fair Profession, one should be her Friend.

She thinks that Christ has given to His Bride,
His Holy Church, an Ever-present Guide;
By Whose Divine Assistance she has thought
That Miracles sometimes were really wrought;
That by the Virtue which His Gifts inspire
Great Saints and Martyrs have adorn'd her Quire.
Now, say the worst that ever can be said
Of that Corruption which might overspread
This Church in gen'ral; cast at her the Stone
They who possess Perfection in their own;—
Yet, were instructive Volumes to enlarge
On bright Exceptions to the gen'ral Charge.

271

They that love Truth, wherever it is found,
Would joy to see it ev'n in romish Ground;
Where, if Corruption grew to such a Size,
The more illustrious must Examples rise
Of Life and Manners;—these, you will agree,
Are true Reformers, wheresoe'er they be.

Of all the Churches, justly loth to claim
Exclusive Title to a Sacred Name,
What one, I ask, has ever yet denied
The Inspiration of the Promis'd Guide?
Our own—to which the Def'rence that is due
Forbids no just Respect for others too—
Believes, asserts, that what Reform she made
Was not without the Holy Spirit's Aid.
If to expect His Gifs, however great,
Be popish and fanatical Deceit,
She in her Offices of ev'ry Kind
Has also been fanatically blind.
What Form of her composing can we trace
Without a Pray'r for His Unstinted Grace?
Taught by the Sacred Volumes to infer
A Saviour's Promise reaching down to her,
Greatly she values the recording Books;
But for fulfilling in herself she looks.

That she may always think aright and act
By God's Good Spirit, is her pray'd-for Fact,—

272

Without His Grace confessing, as she ought,
Her Inability of Act or Thought.
Nor does she fear fanatical Pretence,
When asking Aid in a sublimer Sense.
Where she records amongst the martyr'd Host
A “Stephen, fillèd with the Holy Ghost,”
She prays for that same Plenitude of Aid
By which the Martyr for his Murd'rers pray'd;
That she like him, in what she undergoes,
May love and bless her persecuting Foes.

Did but one Spark of so Supreme a Grace
Burn in the Breast, when Preaching is the Case,
How would a Priest, unpersecuted, dare
To treat, when mounted on a sacred Chair,
A Church of Christ, or any single Soul
By Will enlisted on the Christian Roll,
With such a prompt and contumelious Ire
As Love nor Blessing ever could inspire?

Altho' untouch'd with a Celestial Flame,
How could an English Priest mistake his Aim,—
So far forget the Maxims that appear
Throughout his Church's Liturgy so clear;
Wherein the Spirit's ever Constant Aid
Without a feign'd Distinction is display'd,—
Without a rash attempting to explain
By Limitations foolish and profane
When, and to whom, to what Degree and End,

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God's Graces, Gifts and Pow'rs were to extend,—
So far withdrawn that Christians must allow
Of nothing “extra-ordinary” now,—
The vain Distinction which the World has found,
To fix an unintelligible Bound
To Gospel Promise,—equally Sublime,
Nor limited by any other Time
Than that, when Want of Faith, when earthly Will,
Shall hinder Heav'ns Intentions to fulfil?

If, not confining any promis'd Pow'rs,
The Romish Church be faulty, what is ours?
Does our own Church in her ordaining Day,
Does any consecrating Bishop say,
When on the future Priest his Hand is laid:
“Receive the Spirit's ordinary Aid?”
Do awful Words, “Receive the Holy Ghost!”
Imply that He abides in Books the most,—
Books, which the Spirit Who first rul'd the Hand,
They say themselves, must teach to understand?

His Inspiration, without Limits too,
All Churches own, whatever Preachers do;
Not even Miracles, tho' set aside
In private Books, has any Church denied.—
How weak the Proofs which this Discourse has brought
To justify the fashionable Thought,
That Gospel Promises of any Kind
By Spirit or by Scripture are confin'd
To apostolic or to later Times,
May be the Subject of succeeding Rimes.

274

A STRICTURE ON THE REV. MR. WARBURTON'S DOCTRINE OF GRACE.

276

I

Writing or Scripture, Sacred or profane,
Can only render History more plain
Of what was done or said by God or Man,
Since the Creation of the World began.
Tho' ev'ry Word in Sacred Page be true,
To give Account is all that it can do.

II

Now an Account of Things, as done or said,
Is not a living Letter, but a dead,—
A Picture only, which may represent,
But cannot give us, what is really meant.
He that has got a Map into his Hand
May use the Name, but knows it is not Land.

III

So, in the Bible when we come to look,
(That is, by way of Eminence, The Book)
We must not fancy that it can bestow
The Things themselves which we desire to know.

277

It can but yield, however true and plain,
Verbal Directions how we may obtain.

IV

Tho' a Prescription be directly sure
Upon the Patient's taking it to cure,
No one imagines that the worded Bill
Becomes itself the Remedy for Ill.
The Med'cines taken, as the Bill directs,
Procure the salutiferous Effects.

V

Who, then, can place in any written Code
The Holy Ghost's, the Comforter's, Abode?
“Constant Abode,—supreme Illumination,”—
What Copy can be This, or what Translation?
The Spirit's Dwelling, by th' attesting Pen
Of all th' inspir'd, is in the Hearts of Men.

VI

Were Books his constant Residence indeed,
What must the Millions do who cannot read?
When they who can so vary in their Sense,
What must distinguish true from false Pretence?
If they must follow where the learnèd guide,
What diff'rent Spirits in one Book abide!

278

VII

Genius for Parodox, however bright,
Cannot well justify this Oversight.
Better to own the Truth, for the Truth's Sake,
Than to persist in such a gross Mistake!
Books are but Books: th' illuminating Part
Depends on God's good Spirit in the Heart.

VIII

“The Comforter,” Christ said, “will come again,
Abide with, dwell in”—not your Books, but—“you.”
Just as absurd an Ink-and-Paper Throne
For God's Abode as one of Wood and Stone!
If to adore an Image be Idolatry,
To deify a Book is Bibliolatry.

AN ANSWER TO SOME ENQUIRIES

CONCERNING THE AUTHOR'S OPINION OF A SERMON PREACHED AT --- UPON THE OPERATION OF THE HOLY SPIRIT.

279

I

“Say to the Sermon?”—Why, you all were by,
And heard its whole Contents, as well as I.
Without discussing what the Preacher said,
I'll tell you, Sirs, what came into my Head.

II

While he went on, and learnèdly perplext
The genuine Meaning of his chosen Text,
I cast my Eyes above him, and explor'd
The Dove-like Form upon the Sounding-board.

III

That Bird, thought I, was put there as a Sign
What Kind of Spirit guides a good Divine,
Such as at first taught Preachers to impart
That pure and simple Gospel to the Heart;—

IV

A perfect, plain, intelligible Rule,
Without the dark Distinctions of the School
That, with a nice, sophistical Disguise,
Hide the clear Precepts from the People's Eyes.

280

V

Whatever Doctrine in one Age was true
Must needs be so in all succeeding too;
Tho' Circumstance may change, its inward Aim
Thro' ev'ry outward State is still the same.

VI

No thinking Christian can be pleas'd to hear
Men who pretend to make the Scripture clear,
With low Remarks upon the Letter play,
And take the Spirit of it quite away.

VII

Be Time, or Place, or Person, or what will,
Urg'd in Support of such a wretched Skill,
It all amounts but to a vain Pretence,
That robs the Gospel of its real Sense.

VIII

Taught by the Saviour and by holy Men,
'Tis now the very same that it was then,
Not to be alter'd by unhallow'd Pains.
The World may vary, but the Truth remains.

IX

In consecrated Phrases one would think
That Priests and Pulpits were not made to sink.
Profaner Wits can do it that Disgrace;—
What need of holy Orders in the Case?

281

X

The modish, critical Haranguer heard
May be admir'd,—may be perhaps preferr'd,—
Who sinks the Dictates of the Sacred Page
Down to the Maxims of the present Age.

XI

But o'er his sounding Canopy why bring
The Harmless Dove to spread Its Hov'ring Wing?
How in the Church by such a Shape exprest
Fulness of Brain and Emptiness of Breast!

XII

Of Heads so fatten'd and of Hearts so starv'd
A different Emblem'should, methinks, be carv'd:
The Owl of Athens, and not Sion's Dove,—
The Bird of Learning, not the Bird of Love.

ON PREACHING;

An Epigram.

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The specious Sermons of a learnèd Man
Are little else but Flashes in the Pan;
The mere Haranguing upon what they call
“Morality” is Powder without Ball;
But He who preaches with a Christian Grace
Fires at our Vices, and the Shot takes Place.

FOUR EPISTLES TO THE REV. MR. L---, LATE VICAR OF BOWDON, UPON THE MIRACLE AT THE FEAST OF PENTECOST.

284

EPISTLE I.

Baguley, August 12, 1756.

I

Our Folks gone a-visiting, Reverend Sir,
Having left me at home here, less able to stir,
I am thinking on Matters that lovingly pass'd
Where the Squire of the House and I visited last,—
At the Vicar's of Bowdon, old Friend of us two
And a lover of Learning fair, honest and true;
Especially such as shall make to appear
Any Passage of Scripture more easy and clear.

II

The Scripture was writ, and is oft understood,
By Persons unlearnèd, but pious and good,
Who have much better Helps than mere Learning can yield,
Which may yet be of use in its own proper Field;—
If it be but to mend its own Faults in a Brother,
And correct in one Man the Mistakes of another;
Or to combat our Scruples and fix a true Thought,
When the Head shall confirm what the Heart has been taught.

III

One Thing, I remember, that fell in our Way,
Was the speaking in Tongues on the Pentecost Day;

285

Which our Friend the Divine had conceiv'd in a Light
That, however so thought, does not seem to be right.
All the Comments, 'tis true, that one ever has met,
Concur with his Notions about it; but yet
The Mistake is so plain that I wish by some Means
To obtain his Review of those wonderful Scenes.

IV

It is not my Thought; for I first was appris'd
Of the Thing by a Jacob, too greatly despis'd;
Dipping into whose Writings, which little I knew,
Some Expression like this was presented to View:

286

“All Languages spoken by Peter in one;”—
A Truth which the Moment I enter'd upon,
All the Force of Simplicity, Fitness and Fact
Extorted assent that I could not retract.

V

If the honest old Vicar, our visited Friend,
To St. Luke's own Account will be pleas'd to attend,
I cannot but think that the current Conceit
Will yield to Solution so clear and complete
Of a Number of difficult Points, that arise
Upon viewing the Text with unprejudic'd Eyes;—
If “Speakers” were more than Apostles, and “spoken”
But to one in fifteen was a sensible Token.

VI

For the Names to that Number, if rightly I count
By a Baguley Bible, of Nations amount;
Who all understood what a Peter or John,
Or whoever he will, was discoursing upon,—
And to all at one Time; for how plain to be seen
That Persons nor Place could admit of fifteen;
When Parthians, and Medes, Elamítes, and the rest,
Must be too intermix'd to be singly address'd!

VII

“Are not these,” said the Men, the devout of each Land,
“Galileans that speak, whom we all understand?—”

287

As much as to say,—“By what wonderful Pow'rs
Does the Tongue Galilean become, to us, ours?”
While the good were so justly astonish'd, the bad,
Whose Hearts were unopen'd, cried out, “They are mad.”
Unaccountable Charge, if we do not recall
That in one single Tongue the Apostles speak all!

VIII

For separate Speakers and Tongues, it is clear,
Good and bad without Madness might equally hear;
And surprise in the bad would be equally keen,
How illiterate Men could speak all the fifteen.
But the Miracle, wrought in the simplest of Ways,
In both good and bad well accounts for Amaze.
One was sensibly touch'd with a Gift so Divine;
One stupidly rais'd the Reproach of “new Wine.”

IX

When St. Peter stood up, and to all the whole Throng
Show'd the Truth in a Sermon so good and so long,
But to one fifteenth Part was it only then shown,—
To the worst, the Jerusalem Scoffers alone;
Whilst all the good Strangers, not knowing one Word,
Stood unedified by?—This is greatly absurd.
God pour'd out his Spirit—that answers all Mock,—
And spake by St. Peter to all his whole Flock.

288

X

The vulgar Objection which commenting Strain
Has made to a Thing so exceedingly plain,
Is: “The Miracle then would not be in the Speaker,
It would be in the Hearers.”—Now, what can be weaker?
For the Gift in this case had a twofold Respect,
And must needs be, in both to produce its Effect,—
To account for the Fact, which the Comments forgot,
Why the pious could hear what the Mockers could not.

XI

It is nowhere affirm'd that th' Apostles acquir'd
Any Tongue but their own, tho' Divinely inspir'd.
St. Peter, St. John are soon mention'd again,
And describ'd as unlearnèd and ignorant Men.—
But enough,—or too much! For the Shortness of Time
Gives a hint to set Bounds to th' Extension of Rime.
Our Friend will acknowledge, tho' hasty the Letter,
This Question's Solution,—or give us a better.

XII

So I shall not here touch upon Hebrew and Greek;
Where a Rabbi so able, if minded to seek,

289

May observe other Points in which Learning, that makes
Many Things clear enough, has occasion'd Mistakes.
Whether this be one Instance, I only desire
That a suitable Leisure may prompt to enquire;
For to me it appears, that the Miracle done
Was all by one Language, as clear as the Sun.

EPISTLE II.

November 30, 1756.

I

Many Thanks have been order'd this Day to attend
The Receipt of your Letter, Dear Vicar and Friend;
Which at first, being left to your Leisure to frame,
Was sure to be welcome, whenever it came.
The Point which the Muse had a Mind to propose
In her free-spoken Rimes, you have handled in Prose.
All fair on both Sides; because, say it or sing,
Truth alone in the Case is the principal Thing.

II

But I cannot but marvel, that much better Sight
Than my own should not see so Meridian a Light
As that of the speaking at Pentecost Time
By the Spirit of God to the good of each Clime
In one single Tongue, by that Spirit inspir'd,
Whose Assistance did all that could then be requir'd;

290

Whose Power, it is certain, could make itself known,
By a Number of Tongues or by one Tongue alone.

III

So needless the Many, so simple the One,
That I wonder what Judgment can hesitate on,
Or a learnèd Enquiry that finds, if it seek,
That the Tongue might be one in Construction of Greek;
Which, as Comma takes Place, as old Gregory said,—
Nazianzen I think—either way may be read.
“They speak in our Tongues;” or, as Crystalline clear
The Fact is to my Understanding, “We hear.”

IV

I sent you some Reasons from Baguley why
The Tongue was but one, which you choose to pass by,
And to comment St. Luke in a many-tongu'd Way
That darkens the Light which I took to be Day.
And Day it is still; for Account that you give
“So plain and so obvious” is Water in Sieve;
Which seems to be something at first-looking View,
But by Holes “plain and obvious” it quickly runs through.

V

“The Tongues which appear'd, and which sat upon each,
“All cloven and fiery,” you argue, “may teach,

291

“And by Notice symbolical make it discern'd,
“That they spake in such Tongues as they never had learn'd.”
Need I tell an Hebræan, that “Tongue” is the same
In Relation to Fire, as the English Word “Flame
Which appears to be cloven;” and Proof that is spun
From the Tongues or the Flames—has too much of the Pun?

VI

When you ask, “Pray, what Reason can else be assign'd
“For Tongues?” I ask you, “Pray, what Reason for Wind?”
Not to shun a fair Question; but “Tongue” being “Flame”
May have answer'd already your questioning Aim.
I think that an Air, that a Flame from Above,
Both is and betokens the Life and the Love;—
Which if Christians were blest with, one Language would do,
And, their whole Body fill'd with, there could not be two.

VII

But let them be Symbols, the Tongues, if you will,
Of the Grace which the Spirit was pleas'd to instil,—
His Gift is as Good, if, in speaking their own,
Men made the same Truth in all Languages known.
This Effect you will grant the Good Gift to intend.
Now, supposing two Ways of atttaining one End,
Is that Explication less likely or just,
Which takes the more simple, more plainly august?

292

VIII

Your Account is quite new in one Thing that I meet,
That is, “That the Speakers went into the Street,
Or went out of the House to the Multitude met.”
For of this going-out I have never read yet;
Or, if ever I did, have forgotten the Book,
And can find nothing said in th' Account of St. Luke
But what should imply both profane and devout
Coming into the House, and not them to go out.

IX

May one ask what Authority, then, you have got
For the Scene and Succession which here you allot
To the speaking Disciples, in Number fifteen,
By an Order well-fancied, but not to be seen
In the Acts or elsewhere the New Testament through;
Nor—what I shall just give a Hint of to you,—
Will you find an Apostle, not even a Paul,
In a Tongue not his own ever preaching at all.

293

X

I agree, that “the Mockers who mock'd with the Throng
Knew only their vulgar, Jerusalem Tongue.”
But when you say, further, what cannot but strike,
“That the Nations, too, all understood it alike,”—
Your order'd Confusion of speaking a Store
To a Crowd out of Doors is more puzzling and more.
In the midst of such Darkness if you can see Light,
You need not complain of the Want of Eye-sight.

XI

Thus, my dear old Acquaintance, I run thro' your Plan,
And defend my Conviction as well as I can.
As to what a Bengelius or Wesley may raise
From twelve hundred and sixty prophetical Days,—

294

As the Book is not here, if it otherwise could,
My Skill in the German can do you no good;
But the Part that you mention, my Author foretells
Will be put in our Tongue by a Doctor at Wells.

XII

So writes younger Wesley, who call'd here and din'd;
And to him I subscrib'd for it;—tho', in my Mind,
What Prophets have written, it's Learning in vain
Without some prophetical Gift to explain.
Nay, in Points that are clear, beyond any fair Doubt,
It is fifteen to one that the Learnèd are out.
This Ratio, I find, in one Instance is true;
Excuse the Presumption!—
Dear Vicar, Adieu!

EPISTLE III.

I

I hope that the Vicar will pardon the Haste,
With which an Occasion once more is embrac'd
Of getting some Knowledge in Points that I seek
From one so well vers'd both in Hebrew and Greek,
In a Question of Fact where a friendly Pursuit
Has the Truth for its Object, and not the Dispute,—
Which, tho' Haste should encroach upon metrical Leisure,
Will be sure, if it rise, to be kept within Measure.

295

II

It would save much voluminous Labour sometimes,
If Disputes were tied down to dispassionate Rimes,
As well as to Reasons.—But, not to digress,
Having weigh'd his Responses both larger and less,
I resume the same Subject, same Freedom of Pen,
To entreat for some small Satisfaction again
In Relation to Points which, appearing absurd,
Have extorted poetical Favour the third.

III

Three Things are laid down in Prose Favour the last,
And Regard to his Thoughts would have none of them pass'd.
To his first it was paid, to his future shall be;
But let “Veritas magis amica” be free!—
First, “manage the Comma,” says he, “how you will;
“Speak or Hear, the same Sense will result from it still.”

296

Yes, the Sense of the Context, “λαλουντων αυτων;”
“While they speak in their Tongue, we all hear in our own.”

IV

“The Hebrew word ‘
,’ or ‘Tongue,’ says he next,
“Whene'er it is us'd by itself in a Text,
Never signifies ‘Fire,’ never signifies ‘Flame;’”
And believing it true, I say also the same.
But in joint “
,” “Tongue of Fire,” or “a Blaze,”
Foreign Languages claim no Symbolical Phrase.
Tho' “Tongue” may occasion Mistake to befall,
It has here no Relation to Language at all.

V

“Short Issue,” he thinks, “the Dispute will admit,”
And desires me to answer this Query, to Wit:
“Were the ‘Tongues,’—the ‘new Tongues,’ which a Promise was made
That Disciples should speak, as St. Mark has display'd,—

297

New Languages such as have never been got
By learning before-hand to speak them, or not?”
To which for the present, till Somebody show
That it must have this Meaning, my Answer is: “No.”

VI

Now, this, if he can, I could wish he would do,
And prove the Construction “new Languages” true
In the Sense that he means; for, when all understood
One Person who spake, it was really as good
As if Numbers had spoken, or Promisèd Grace
Were interpreted “Languages” here in this Place.
The Effect was the same, and may answer the Pith
Of all that his Second has favour'd me with.

VII

Still difficult, then, if we carefully sift,
Is the Vulgar Account of the Pentecost Gift,
Which the Learnèd advance, and establish thereon
What the Vicar has built his Idéas upon,
With Additions thereto which, as far as I see,
Not one of the Learnèd has added but he.
For Example, if some, very few, I presume,
Have describ'd the Disciples as quitting the Room.

VIII

But let them be many;—what Reason, what Trace
Do we find of their leaving the sanctified Place?

298

Of a Wind from above did they fear at the Shake,
And the House, thro' a Doubt of its falling, forsake?
Or did they go forth to the gathering Quire,
Lest the many bright Flames should have set it on Fire?
If a Thought could have enter'd of going away,
What Circumstance was not strong Motive to stay?

IX

Then again: “that the Foreigners, all of them, knew
The Language then us'd at Jerusalem too.”—
For the Miracle's Sake one would here have demurr'd,
Which is render'd so needless, improper, absurd,
That Jerusalem Mockers would really have had
A Pretence to allege that the pious were mad.
For of speaking strange Tongues what accountable Aim,
Or of hearing fifteen, when they all knew the same?

X

Add to this: the Disciples, the Hundred-and-twenty,
Spake amongst one another strange Tongues in like Plenty;—
“One by one,” says the Vicar, who very well saw
What Confusion would rise without some such a Law
As the Text has no Hint of; which says, “they began
To speak by the Spirit,” not “Man after Man.”
Could Time have suffic'd for so doing, yet why
Speak the Tongues of such Men as were none of them by?

XI

The Vicar saw, too, that this could not attract
Any Multitude thither, supposing it Fact;

299

And so he conceiv'd that “a Rumour was spread
By the Men of the House,”—of whom nothing is said.
Now, when Men of his Learning are forc'd to find out
Such unchronicl'd Salvos to dissipate Doubt,
One is apt to infer a well-grounded Suspense,
And the more to look out for more natural Sense.

XII

I wish my old Friend would consider the Case,
And how ill it consists with Effusion of Grace
To speak Parthian, and Median, and so of the Rest,
To none but themselves, being present, address'd!
Unless he can grant, on revolving the Point,
That indeed there is something not rightly in Joint,
Or solve one's Objections, or show one the Way
How to clear up the Matter,—what can a Man say?

EPISTLE IV.

I

I have, with Attention, dear Vicar, repass'd
Your obliging Reply to the Lines in my last;

300

Am sorry 'tis final; yet cannot but say
That your Patience to hear me has gone a great Way,
And extinguish'd all Right to require any more,
If I “put you to prove ‘Two and Two to make Four;’”—
Very difficult Task, as one cannot deny,
When there's Nothing more plain to demónstrate it by!

II

But if “Two and Two, Four,” I am thinking, has claim
To self-evident Truth, has this Comment the same:
“The New Tongues which are mention'd in Promising Page
Are the Old ones, subsisting for many an Age?”
Is it really as plain, as that Four is twice Two,
That in no other Sense they could ever be “new”
But as new to the Speaker, John, Peter, or Paul,
While the Tongues in themselves had no Newness at all?

III

Were this a true Thesis and right to maintain,
Yet “Two Halves are one Whole” is, however, more plain,
Till the Proof, which is wanted, shall make it appear
How the two Propositions are equally clear.

301

“This Proof may be had from the Chapter,” you say,
“Which relates what was done on the Pentecost Day,—
The best of all Proofs.”—But, to do the fair Thing,
Give me Leave to examine what Reasons you bring!

IV

“That ‘γλωσσαι’ is ‘Languages’ oft, if you seek
“In the Septuagint or the New Testament Greek,
“Acknowledge you must.”—Yes; 'tis really the Case.—
“‘Ταις ημετεραις γλωσσαις’ in this very Place
“Must mean, ‘in our Languages.’ Sense, you must own,
“Is the same as in ‘τη διαλεκτω ημων,’—
“‘In our Languages,’ or ‘in our Dialect.’”—Yes,
“Two and Two making Four” is not plainer than this.

V

But how it flows hence, that in cited St. Mark
It has no other Meaning, I'm quite in the dark.
Few Words of a Language are always confin'd
To a Meaning precisely of just the same Kind.
For the Roots of the Hebrew in Hutchinson's School,
I remember, they had such a Kind of a Rule;

302

But the Reach of its Proof has been out of my Pow'r,
Tho' I've talk'd with their Master full many an Hour.

VI

I believe that by Grace, which the Spirit instill'd,
“They shall speak with New Tongues” was exactly fulfill'd
In our Saviour's Disciples; that, Grace being got,
They did so “speak in Tongues,” as before they could not.
With respect to good Strangers partaking of Grace,
For “speak with new Tongues” “with new Languages” place,
And the Promise fulfill'd we may very well call
By one Spirit-form'd Tongue which instructed them all.

VII

If the bold Alexandrian Stroke of a “No”
Had been “Yes,” in my Last—and it would have been so,
If the Facts had requir'd it,—what could it have shown,
Tho' the Text had this Meaning, if not this alone?
For how do all Languages, spoken in One,
Disagree with the Promise insisted upon?
I allow it fulfill'd; let the Vicar allow
The Fulfilling, itself, to determine the How.

303

VIII

God's Wonderful Works when Disciples display'd,
And spake by the Spirit's Omnipotent Aid,
Ev'ry one understood in a Language his own
“Loquentibus illis,”—“λαλουντων αυτων,”—
“While they spake,”—at the first; for good Greek and good Sense
Forbid us to form an unwritten Pretence
For dividing of Tongues, when the Spirit's Descent
Gave at once both to speak and to know what was meant.

IX

But thus to interpret, it seems, you forbid
By placing the Stop as old Gregory did,
Who thought as you think; tho' you bring, I agree,
At least a more plausible Reason than he,
From a Passage that suits with your Meaning alone:
Acts the 10th, “for they heard”—“ηκουον γαρ αυτων
Λαλουντων,” “them speaking,”—and “γλωσσαις”—“in Tongues;”
Where, indeed, to that Greek that Construction belongs.

X

By transposing two Words the grammatical Lot
Shows when they are absolute, when they are not.
But be it “them speaking,” as you would collect,
“In our Languages” still it will never affect

304

The Force of those Reasons, from which 'tis inferr'd
That at once they were spoken, at once they were heard;
Nor of those which deny that “Tongues,” quatenus “new,”
Mean always precisely what “Languages” do.

XI

That Evidence, Vicar, which here you have brought,
Cross-examin'd, will certainly favour this Thought.
For Cornelius converted, and Company too,
Without Intervention of Languages new,—
How can any one think, but from Prejudice bred,
Tho' honest, from what he has often heard said,
That then they were all on a sudden inspir'd
To speak with strange Tongues, when no Reason requir'd?

XII

But now, being got to the End of a Tether
Prescrib'd to your Trouble, I leave to you whether
“Tongues” anywhere else in the Sense you assert
Were spoken to Purpose, that is, to convert,—
Or whether your Patience can bear to excuse
A Reply to your Hints on the Sense that I choose?
In the mean Time I thank you for Favours in Hand
And, speaking or silent, am
Yours to Command.

305

A LETTER TO A FRIEND,

UPON THE MEANING OF ST. PAUL'S EXPRESSION OF “SPEAKING WITH TONGUES,”

[_]

1st Corinthians, ch. xiv.

If you remember, Rev'rend Sir, the Talk
That pass'd betwixt us in the Garden Walk,
The “Gift of Tongues” was mention'd; when I thought
That Notion wrong which learnèd Men had taught,

306

And that this Gift was not at all concern'd
With that of speaking Languages unlearn'd.

St. Paul, I said, in his Corinthian Charge,
Had treated on the Subject more at large;
From whose Account one plainly might deduce
The genuine Gift, its Nature and its Use;
And make appear from Passages enow
The vulgar Notion not to be the true;
But that to “speak in Tongues,” or “speak in Tongue,”
Was meant of Hymns which the Corinthians sung.
This is the “Gift” which the Apostle paints,
And lays its Practice under due Restraints.

You know the Chapter.—First, then, let us see
How “Tongues” do there with “Languages” agree;
Then, how with “Hymns;” and let which better suits
Th' Apostle's Context regulate Disputes.

First: “he that speaketh in a Tongue”—“unknown,”
Translators add for Reasons of their own—
“Speaketh to God, and speaketh not to Men;”—
Peculiar Tokens of an Hymn! Again:
“For no Man understandeth him.” From hence
'Tis plain that “Languages” was not the Sense.
Would he rise up who had them at Command,
To speak in one that none could understand?

307

What can be more unlikely to suppose?
Yet thus the learned Commentators glose,
As their Mistake about the Gift implied
The Christians guilty of this awkward Pride!
Such Fact they make no Scruple to advance,
As would appear absurd in a Romance.
One in his softer, one his harsher, Terms,
The same miraculous Disgrace affirms;
All from the Difficulty try some Shape,
Whilst there is no escaping, to escape.

Whereas to “Hymns” all Phrases correspond.
Of them Corinthian Converts were too fond;
And Paul, who will'd them really to rejoice,
But more with Heart affected than with Voice,
Authority with Reason mix'd employs,
Not to repress, but regulate their Joys.
The Benefit of Hymns he understood;
But, most intent upon the Church's Good,
The “Gift prophetic” more expedient found,—
That is, to preach the Gospel, or expound—
Than to sing Hymns. “The Prophet speaks,” says Paul,
“To Men; instructs, exhorts and comforts all.”

“Speaking in Tongue,” or Hymning (to proceed),
“May edify the Singer's Self indeed;

308

But Prophecy, the Church;” a private Soul
Should always yield the Pref'rence to the Whole.
Consistent all, if “Hymning” he explains;
If “Languages unknown,” what Sense remains?
Would Paul affirm, that speaking might do good
In foreign Languages, not understood,
To a Man's Self? Would he so gently treat
Such a suppos'd enormous Self-conceit?
Would he vouchsafe to pay, the Chapter thro',
Respect to “Tongues,” if taken in this View?
Would he allow, nay choose it?—For that next
Is said of Tongues in the succeeding Text.

“I will you all to speak with Tongues.” To sing
Makes this a plain, intelligible Thing.
The other Meaning which they spread about,
No Commentators have, or can make out.
That he should will them all to sing was just,
And properly to use the Gift, or Trust;
For his Intention was not to reduce
Singing itself, but its improper Use.
It was the good Apostle's great Concern
To preach the Gospel so that most might learn;
This was the Gift in which he rather will'd
Such as had been converted to be skill'd.
“Speaking in Tongue” was good; but this, he knew,
Was the more useful Talent of the two;
“Greater its Owner,” but with an “Except,”

309

That shows the Justice for an Hymner kept,
The Matter sung who if he could express
To edify the Hearers, was not less;
“Interpretation” render'd them alike.
But does not this absurd Supposal strike,
That in plain Speaking on some Christian Head
One should interpret what himself had said;
First, use a Language to the Church unknown,
Then, in another, for his Fault atone?
What Reason possible can be assign'd,
Why the known Tongue should be at first declin'd?
This Difficulty, and so all the rest,
The Nature of an Hymn explains the best.

“Now, should I come amongst you,” says the Saint,
“Speaking with Tongues”—should only come to chant—
“What shall it profit you, except I preach,—
Some Revelation, Knowledge, Doctrine teach?”
And here the vulgar Meaning of the Word
For Apostolic Use is too absurd;
He scarce would “if” the speaking in a Tongue
Unknown to Christians whom he came among;
Nor would a Question find with him a Place
About their Profit in so gross a Case.

310

He plainly hints a Coming, not design'd
To please their Ear, but to instruct their Mind,—
The real Profit which he pointed at;
And Hymns themselves were useless without that.

That such a Speaking, as is mentioned here,
Was musical, is evidently clear
From the Allusion which he then propounds,
To “Pipe,” and “Harp,” and instrumental Sounds;
Which none can urge with Reason to belong
So properly to Language as to Song.
Tho' it may serve for both in some respect,
Yet here one sees to which it must direct:
“If Pipe or Harp be indistinctly heard,
No Tune or Meaning can be thence inferr'd;
If an uncertain Sound the Trumpet yield,
How shall a Man make ready for the Field?”

Thus of dead Instruments.—Of them that live,
“So ye,” th' Apostle adds, “except ye give
Words by the Tongue, that Men can apprehend,
Ye speak, but as to Hearers to no End;
And”—what with hymning Posture seems to square—
“Will be like Men who speak into the Air.

“So ye,” to show how Tune and Song agree,
“Except ye utter with the Tongue,” says he,

311

“Words that are easy to be understood,”—
Which in a foreign Tongue they never could,—
“How shall the Thing be known to any one
That ye have spoken”—that is, sung—“upon?”
And—what with hymning Posture seems to square—
He adds, “for ye shall speak into the Air.”

“Except ye utter with the Tongue”—“unknown”
Translators here thought fit to let alone;
“Unknown, and easy too to understand,”
That could not be: “unknown” they must disband.
It was enough to show them their Mistake,
To see what Incoherence it would make;
Yet they, not minding, just as they think fit,
Sometimes insert it, and sometimes omit.
But if the Epithet at first be right,
Why is it kept so often out of Sight?
Do not Omissions carry all along
Tacit Confession of its being wrong,—
Tacit Confession, which is open Proof
How little can be said in its Behoof?

“They who shall speak in Tongue, and they who hear,
Unless the Meaning of the Voice be clear,”—
The Sense not being “within mutual Reach,”—
“Will be,” says Paul, “Barbarians each to each,”—
Or “Foreigners;”—“and, therefore,” is his Drift,

312

“With all your Fondness for the speaking Gift,
Have the whole Church's Benefit in View;
Let him who speaks in Tongue interpret too!”

Can such Concession, such Allowance made
Suit with that insupportable Parade
And Show of Gift which Commentators vent,
Giving a Meaning that could scarce be meant?
While Zeal for Hymns, a natural Effect
In Novices, tho' wanting to be check'd,
Accounts for checking, for allowing Phrase,
For ev'ry Motive that St. Paul displays,—
His placid Reas'ning and his mild Rebuke,
For which no Insolence of Gift could look?
No Insolence, I say, of such a Kind
As Commentators rashly have assign'd
To the first Christians; which the latter now,
Suppose it offer'd, never would allow.

“For if I pray in Tongue,” St. Paul pursues,
“My Spirit prayeth; but no Fruit accrues
To them who do not understand my Pray'rs.”—
And what the Remedy which he prepares?
Why, it is this: “I will so”—sing or—“pray,
That all may understand what I shall say.”
Plain the two Phrases in the Verse proclaim,

313

That “praying” here and “singing” is the same;
That some Corinthians so display'd their Art
That none but they themselves could bear a Part.
Hence “to interpret Hymns” his Words ordain,
Or else “to sing intelligibly plain;”—

Praying, or praising. “For,” says he again,
“How shall unlearned Persons say ‘Amen’
To thy Thanksgiving, if, when thou shalt bless,
They understand not what thy Words express?
Thou verily hast given Thanks, and well;
But this, unedified, they cannot tell.”
The common Benefit is still his Aim,—
True, real Glory of the Christian Name.

In Languages unknown was Pray'r and Praise
Perform'd by Christians in th' Apostles Days?
Was that a Time, or was the Church a Place,
For gifted Ostentation to disgrace?

[_]

[Cætera desunt.]

A DIALOGUE BETWEEN RUSTICUS, THEOPHILUS AND ACADEMICUS,

ON THE NATURE, POWER AND USE OF HUMAN LEARNING IN MATTERS OF RELIGION.

[_]

(From Mr. Law's Way to Divine Knowledge.)

316

Rusticus.

Yes, Academicus, you love to hear
The Words of Jacob Behmen made so clear;

317

But the Truth is, the fundamental Good
At which he aims you have not understood.
Content with such good Notions as befit
Your learnèd Reason and your searching Wit
To make a Talk about, you gather still
More ample Matter for your Hear-say Skill.
You know yourself as well as I, that this
Is all your Joy in him; and hence it is
That you are so impatient, ev'ry Day,
For more and more of what his Pages say,—
So vex'd and puzzled, if you cannot find
Their Meaning open'd to your eager Mind,
Nor add new Notions and a stronger Force,
To heighten still your Talent of Discourse.

With all your Value for his Books, as yet
This Disposition makes you to forget
How oft they tell you, and how well they show,
That this inordinate Desire to know,—
This heaping up of Notions, one by one,
For subtle Fancy to descant upon,
While Babel, as you think, is overthrown,—
Is building up a new one of your own.

318

Your Babylonish Reason is the Pow'r
That seeks Materials to erect its Tow'r;
The very Scriptures under such a Guide
Will only nourish your high-soaring Pride;
Nor will you penetrate with all your Art
Of Jacob's Writings the substantial Part.

The Works of Behmen would you understand?
Then, where he stood, see also that you stand!
Begin where he began; direct your Thought
To seek the Blessing only that he sought,—
The Heart of God; that by a right true Faith
He might be sav'd from Sin and Satan's Wrath.
While thus the humble Seeker stood resign'd,
The Light of God broke in upon his Mind;
But you, devoted to the Pow'r alone
Of speculative Reason, all your own,
Would reach his Ladder's Top at once, nor try
The Pains of rising Step by Step so high.—
But on this Subject, by your Looks, I see
You'd rather hear Theophilus than me.

Theophilus.
Why, really, Academicus, the Main
Of all that Rusticus, so bluntly plain,
Has here been saying, tho' it seem so hard,
Hints Truth enough to put you on your Guard.

319

Much in the same Mistake your Mind has been,
That many of my learnèd Friends are in;
Who, tho' Admirers to a great Degree,
Of Truths in Jacob Behmen which they see,
Yet of all People have the least Pretence
To real Benefit receiv'd from thence.
Train'd up in Controversy and Dispute,
Accustom'd to maintain or to refute
All Propositions only by the Light
Of their own Reason judging what is right,
They take this Guide in Truths of ev'ry Kind,
Both where it sees and where it must be blind;
So that in Regions where a Light Divine
Demonstrates Truth, and Reason cannot shine,
The real Good is hidden from their View,
And some such System rises up in Lieu,
As Birth or Education, Mode or Place,
In Course of Life has led them to embrace.
Thus with the learned Papist in his Creed
The learned Protestant is not agreed;—
Not that to either Truth and Light have taught
To entertain so opposite a Thought;
But Education's contrary Supplies

320

Have giv'n them protestant, and popish Eyes;
And, Reason being the accustom'd Light
Of both the Parties and of either Sight,
Decisions protestant, and popish too,
Can find it Work enough and Tools enow
To shape Opinions of a diff'rent Growth;
Whilst Learning is an open Field to both,
And of its Harvest the inur'd to reap
With greater Skill can show the greater Heap.

Academicus.
So, then, I must, as I perceive by you,
Renounce my Learning, and my Reason too,
If I would gain the necessary Lights
To understand what Jacob Behmen writes.
I cannot yield as yet to such Advice,
Nor make the Purchase at so dear a Price.
I hope the Study of the Scripture Text
Will do for me, and leave me unperplext
With his deep Matters.—Little did I know
That Learning had in you so great a Foe.

Theophilus.

Be not uneasy; Learning has in me
No Foe at all, not in the least Degree,—

321

No more than has the Science or the Skill
To build an House to dwell in or a Mill
For grinding Corn. I think an useful Art
Of human Things the noblest, for my Part.
Knowledge of Books or Languages, or aught
That any Person has been duly taught,
I would not ask him to renounce, or say
They might not all be useful in their Way;
I would not blame, within its proper Place,
The Art of throwing Silk, or making Lace,
Or any Art confin'd to its own Sphere:
But then, the Measure of its Use is there.
Some we call liberal, and some we call
Mechanic; now, the Circle of them all,
Does that show forth in its most perfect Plan
The natural Abilities of Man,—

322

The Pow'rs and Faculties of human Mind,
Whether the Man be well or ill inclin'd?
The most unjust and wicked Debauchee,
Regarding neither God nor Man, may be
In any one or more of all the Train
Of greater Skill than others can obtain.

But now, Redemption of the human Race
By Christ, with all its Mysteries of Grace,
Is in itself, as it has always been,
Of quite another Nature, nor akin
To Art or Science, which for worldly Views
The natural or outward Man can use.
It is an inward Fitness to revive
That heav'nly Nature which was once alive
In Paradise,—that blissful Life within
The human Creature which was lost by Sin.
It breathes a Spark of Life, to re-create
The poor fall'n Man in his first happy State;
By which, awaken'd into new Desires,
After his native Country he enquires;
How he may rise above this earthly Den,
And get into his Father's House again.

This is Redemption, or the Life Divine,

323

Off'ring itself, on one Hand, with Design
That inward Man who lost It to restore
To all the Bliss which he was in before;
And on the other, 'tis the Man's Desire,
Will, Faith and Hope, which earnestly aspire
After that Life,—the Hunger, Thirst and Call
To be deliver'd by It from the Fall.

Now whether Man in this awaken'd Strife
Breathe forth his Longings after this good Life
In Hebrew, Greek, or any English Sound,
Or none at all but silent Sigh profound,
Can be of no Significancy; he
That knows but one, or uses all the three,
Neither to him more distant or more near
Will this redeeming Life of God appear.
Can you conceive it more to shine upon
Men of more Languages, than Men of one?
He who can make a Grammar for High Dutch,

324

Or Welsh, or Greek, can you suppose, as such,
In Faith and Hope and Goodness will excel
A Man that scarce his Mother Tongue can spell?
If this Supposal, then, be too absurd,
No Hurt is done, no Enmity incurr'd,
To Learning, Science, Reason, critic Wit,
By giving them the Places which they fit
Amongst the Ornaments of Life below,
Which the most profligate as well may know,—
One of the most abandon'd vicious Will,
As one who, fearing God, escheweth Ill.

Therefore, no Truths concerning this Divine
And Heav'nly Life can come within the Line
Of all this Learning, as exalted far
Above the Pow'r of Trial at its Bar;
Where both the Jury and the Judges too
Are born with Eyes incapable to view.
Living and moving in this World's Demesne,
They have their Being in another Scene,
The Life Divine no abler to descry
Than into Heav'n can look an Eagle's Eye.

If you, well-read in ancient Books, my Friend,
To publish Homer's Iliad should intend
Or Cæsar's Commentaries, and make out
Some Things more plain,—you have the Skill no doubt,

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As well provided for the Work, perhaps,
As one to make his Baskets, one his Traps.
But if you think that Skill in ancient Greek
And Latin helps you of itself to seek,
Find and explain the Spirit and the Sense
Of what Christ said, it is a vain Pretence
And quite unnatural,—of equal Kind
With the Endeavour of a Man born blind,
Who talks about exhibiting the Sight
Of diff'rent Colours, beautifully bright.

Doctrines wherein Redemption is concern'd,
No more belong to Men as being learn'd,
Than Colours do to him who never saw
The Light that gives to all of them the Law.
From like unnatural Attempt proceeds
That huge Variety of Sects and Creeds,
Which from the same true Scripture can deduce
What serves each diff'rent Error for its Use:
Papist or Protestant, Socinian Class
Or Arian, can as easily amass
The Texts of Scripture and by Reason's Ray,
One as another, urge the endless Fray;

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Retort Absurdities, whenever prest;
Prove its own System, and confute the rest:
Just as blind Men in their Disputes can do
Each others' Notions of red, green, or blue.

The Light of the celestial inward Man
That died in Paradise, when Sin began,
Is Jesus Christ; and, consequently, Men
By Him alone can rise to Life again:
He in the Heart of Man must sow the Seed
That can awaken Heav'nly Life indeed;
Nothing but this can possibly admit
Return of Life, or in the least be fit
Or capable, or sensible of Pow'r
From Jesus Christ in His redeeming Hour.
The Light and Life which He intends to raise,
Have no Dependence upon Word and Phrase.
Life in itself, be it of Heav'n or Earth,
Must have its whole Procession from a Birth.
Would it not sound absurdly in your Mind,
That, if a Man be naturally blind,
Care must be had to teach him Grammar well,
Or in the Art of Logic to excel;
That he will best obtain, when this is done,

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Knowledge of Light and Colours from the Sun?
Yet not one Jot is it the less absurd
To think that Skill in Greek or Hebrew Word,
Of Man's Redemption can explain the Whole,
Or let the Light of God into his Soul.

This Matter, Academicus, if you
Can set in a more proper Light,—pray do!

A CONTRAST BETWEEN HUMAN REASON AND DIVINE ILLUMINATION,

EXEMPLIFIED IN THREE DIFFERENT CHARACTERS.

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I

An humble Christian, to whose inward Sight
God shows the Truth, and then inspires to write,
Because of deeper Certainties declar'd
Than what the Mind perceives when unprepar'd,—
From them who measure all on which he treats
By the fix'd Standard of their own Conceits,
Meets with Contempt; and very few will own
The real Truths, which he has really shown.—

II

A sharp Philosopher, who thinks to find
By his own Reason, his own Strength of Mind,
Sublimer Things, that lie so far beyond
The Scenes to which such Forces correspond,—
From them who love to speculate like him,
And think all Light but that of Reason dim,
Meets with Admirers; tho' he reasons wrong
And draws the Dupes, if plausible, along.—

III

Now, tho' a Searcher should no more despise
The use of Reason than he should of Eyes;
Yet, if there be a still superior Light
Than Faculty of Reason has or Sight,—
Which all Religion seems to pre-suppose
That God on such as rightly seek bestows,—
In higher Matters how should he decide
Who takes his Reason only for his Guide?

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IV

Such Words as Nature, Reason, Common Sense,
Furnish all Writers with one same Pretence;
Altho' in many an acknowledg'd Case
They must fall short without Superior Grace;
So that in Things of more momentous kind
Nature itself directs us not to mind,—
If Sacred Truth be heartily desir'd,—
The greatest Reas'ners, but the most inspir'd.

V

Whence comes the Value for the Scripture Page,
So justly due, so paid thro' ev'ry Age;—
Not writ by Men of Learning and of Parts,
But honest, humble and enlighten'd Hearts,
Who, when they reason'd, reason'd very well;
But how enabl'd, let their Writings tell?
Not one of all, but who ascribes the Force
Of Truth discover'd to an Higher Source!

VI

Take these three Men, so diff'rent in their Way,
For Instance, Behmen, Bolingbroke and Hay.
They all philosophise on Sacred Themes
And build on Reason, the two last, their Schemes.
The first affirms, that his Principia flow
From what God's Spirit gave him Pow'r to know,—
As much a promis'd as a certain Guide,
With Christ's Disciples ever to abide.

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VII

If Bolingbrokian Reason must prevail,
All Inspiration is an idle Tale;
Writers by that, from Moses down to Paul,
I spare to mention how he treats them all.
Now, if he err'd, whence did that Error spring?
His Reason told him there was no such Thing,—
Foundress, in her philosophising Cast,
Of all his first Philosophy, and last.

VIII

Hay, better taught, and more ingenuous Spark,
Gropes with his Reason betwixt Light and Dark;
Now, gentle Glimmerings of Truth displays;
Now, lost in Fancy's intricater Maze,
A motley Mixture of such Things has got,
As Reason could discover, and could not;
Which all the Builders on its boasted Plan
Prove to be just as manifold as Man.

IX

This Behmen knew, and in his humble Way
Became enlighten'd by a steadier Ray;
First, taught himself by what he heard and saw,
Of Grace and Nature he explain'd the Law.
That Sacred Spirit from which both arose,

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Taught him of both the Secrets to disclose
To them, who, using Eyes and Reason too,
Were fit for Truth in a Diviner View.

X

He does not write from Reason, nor appeals,
Of course, to what that Faculty reveals.
Yet, if the common Privilege be mine,
Reason may see that Something more Divine
Lies hid in what the Books of Behmen teach,
Tho' it surpass its apprehensive Reach;
May see from what it really apprehends
That all mere Reas'ners Behmen far transcends.

XI

Fond of his Reason as a Man may be,
He should confess its limited Degree,
And by its fair Direction seek to find
A surer Guide to Things of deeper Kind.
The most sharp-sighted seek for other Men
Who may have seen what lies beyond their Ken;
And in religious Matters most Appeals
Are made by Men to that which God reveals.

XII

How is it possible to judge aright
Of Heav'nly Things but by an Heav'nly Light,—
Contemn'd by Bolingbroke, by Hay confess'd,
By Behmen, possibly at least, possess'd?
Truly inspir'd, as pious Minds have thought,
Jacob was known to live as he had taught,

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And at his last departing Moment cried,
“Now I go hence to Paradise,”—and died.

SOCRATES' REPLY CONCERNING HERACLITUS' WRITINGS.

334

I

When Socrates had read, as Authors note,
A certain Book that Heraclitus wrote.
Deep in its Matter and obscure beside,
Ask'd his Opinion of it, he replied:

335

“All that I understand is good and true,
And what I don't is, I believe, so too.”

II

Thus answer'd Socrates, whom Greece confess'd
The wisest of her Sages and the best,
By Justice mov'd and Candour of a Piece
With that Philosopher's Repute in Greece,—
Worthy of Imitation, to be sure,
When a good Writer is sometimes obscure.

III

All the haranguing, therefore, on the Theme
Of deep Obscurity in Jacob Behme
Is but itself obscure; for he might see
Further, 'tis possible, than you or me.
Meanwhile, the Goodness of his plainer Page
Demands the Answer of the Grecian Sage.

IV

The “Stuff and Nonsense, Labyrinth and Maze,
Madness, Enthusiasm,” and such-like Phrase,
Its quick Bestowers are oblig'd to own,
Ought not to move us by its eager Tone
More than they ought in Reason to be mov'd,
Should we so paint a Work which they approv'd.

V

He whom the fair Socratical Remark
Describes, was call'd “σκοτεινος,” or “the dark.”
Yet his wise Reader from the Good in View
Thought that his darker Passages were true;
He would not judge of what as yet lay hid,
By what he did not see, but what he did.

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VI

The Books of Behme, as none are tied to read,
To blame unread they have as little need;
As they who read them most, the most commend,
Others at least may venture to suspend,
Or think with ref'rence to such Books as these
Of Heraclitus and of Socrates.

THOUGHTS UPON HUMAN REASON,

OCCASIONED BY READING SOME EXTRAVAGANT DECLAMATIONS IN ITS FAVOUR.

337

I

Yes, I have read them;—but I cannot find
Much Depth of Sense in Writers of this Kind.
They all retail, as they proceed along,
Or superficial Sentiments or wrong;
Of “Reason! Reason!” they repeat the Cries,
And “Reason's Use,”—which Nobody denies.

II

All Sharers in it follow, I suppose,
Each one his Reason, as he does his Nose,
When he intends to reach a certain Spot,
Whether he finds the Road to it, or not.
With equal Sense a Postulatum begs
The Use of Reason, as the Use of Legs.

III

Full well these rational Adepts declaim
On Points at which their Reason can take Aim;
But when they talk beyond them, what Mistakes
Of various Kind their various Reason makes!
All are for one same Rule, and in its Use
All singly clear and mutually abstruse.

IV

What plainer Demonstration can be had,
That their original Pretence is bad
Who say, their own or human Reason's Light
Must needs direct them to determine right?
What greater Proof of a superior Skill
Needful to Reas'ners, reason how they will?

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V

Sense to discern and Reason to compare
Are Gifts that merit our improving Care,
But want an Inward Light, when all is done,
As Seeds and Plants do that of outward Sun.
Main Help neglected, tasteless Fruits arise,
And Wisdom grows insipid in the Wise.

VI

Tho' all these Reason-Worshippers profess
To guard against fanatical Excess,
“Enthusiastic Heat”—their fav'rite Theme—
Draws their Attention to the cold Extreme;
Their Fears of torrid Fervors freeze a Soul;
To shun the Zone they send it to the Pole.

VII

The very Sound of rational and plain
Contents, where Sense is neither of the twain,
A World of Readers, whose polite Concern
Is to be learnèd without Pains to learn.
To please their Palates with a modish Treat,
Cheap is the Cost, and here is the Receipt:

VIII

“Let Reason, first, Imagination, Passions
“Be clean drest-up in pretty-worded Fashions;
“Then let Imagination, Passions, Reason
“Change Places round at each commodious Season;
“Till Reason, Passions and Imagination
“Have prov'd the Point by their complete Rotation.”

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ON FAITH, REASON, AND SIGHT,

CONSIDERED AS THE THREE DISTINCT MEDIUMS OF HUMAN PERCEPTION.

I

There is a threefold correspondent Light
That shines to Faith, to Reason, and to Sight.
The first, Eternal,—bringing into View
Celestial Objects, if the Faith be true;
The next, Internal,—which the reas'ning Mind
Consults in Truths of an ideal Kind;
The third, External,—and perceiv'd thereby
All outward Objects that affect the Eye.

II

Each Light is good within its destin'd Sphere;
Nor with each other do they interfere.
Faith does not reason, Reason does not see,
Nor Sight extend beyond a fixt Degree;
Yet Faith in Light of a superior Kind
Cannot be call'd irrational or blind;
Because an Higher Certainty display'd
Includes the Force of all inferior Aid.

III

As Body, Soul and Spirit make a Man,
Each has the Help of its appointed Plan;
Sight, Hearing, Smell, and Taste and feeling Sense
What the corporeal Nature wants, dispense;

340

Thinking, Comparing, Judging, and the whole
Of reasoning Faculties, assist the Soul;
Faith, and whatever else may be exprest
By Grace Celestial, makes the Spirit blest.

IV

To heal Defect, or to avoid Excess,
The Greater Light should still correct the less,
And form within the right obedient Will
A seeing, reas'ning and believing Skill;
While Body moves as outward Sense directs,
And Soul perceives what Reason's Light reflects,
And Spirit, fill'd with Lustre from Above,
Obeys by Faith and operates by Love.

V

A sober Person, tho' his Eyes are good,
Slights not the Truths by Reason understood
Nor just Conclusions, under the Pretence
Of Contradiction to his seeing Sense.
Knowing the Limits too that Reason hath,
He does not seek to quench the Light of Faith;
But rationally grants that It may teach
What human Stretch of Reason cannot reach.

VI

As Sight to Reason in the Things that lie
Beyond the Ken of the corporeal Eye
Unhurt, uninjur'd, yields itself of course,
So well-taught Reason owns a Higher Force.
By Faith enlighten'd, it enjoys a Rest
In clearer Light to find its own supprest,—
Suff'ring no more, for want of its Display,
Than Moon and Stars in full meridian Day.

341

VII

To make the reas'ning Faculty of Man
Do more or less to help him than it can,
Is equally absurd; but worse to slight
Or want the Benefits of Faith than Sight.
If he who sees no outward Light be blind,
How dismal dark must be the faithless Mind!
The one is only natural Defect;
The other wilful, obstinate Neglect;—

VIII

Pretence of Reason. For it is Pretence
Foolish and fatal in the saddest Sense;
For Reason cannot alter what is true,
Or any more prevent, than Eyes can do.
Both by the Limits which they feel proclaim
The real Want of a Celestial Flame;—
How is it possible to see, in fine,
The Things of God without a Light Divine?

VERSES DESIGNED FOR AN INFIRMARY.

I

Dear loving Sirs, behold, as ye pass by,
The poor sick People with a pitying Eye!
Let Pains, and Wounds, and Suff'rings of each Kind,
Raise up a just Compassion in your Mind;

342

Indulge a gen'rous Grief at such a Sight,
And then bestow your Talent or your Mite!

II

Thus to bestow is really to obtain
The surest Blessing upon honest Gain;
To help th' afflicted in so great a Need
By your Supplies is to be rich indeed:
The Good, the Pleasure, the Reward of Wealth
Is to procure your Fellow-creatures Health.

III

In other Cases Men may form a Doubt,
Whether their Alms be properly laid out;
But in the Objects here before your Eyes
No such Distrust can possibly arise;
Too plain the Miseries, which well may melt
An Heart sincerely wishing them unfelt.

IV

The Wise consider this terrestrial Ball
As Heav'n's design'd Infirmary for all.
Here came the Great Physician of the Soul,
To heal Man's Nature, and to make him whole,—
Still by His Spirit present with all those
Who lend an Aid to lessen human Woes.

V

A Godlike Work! Who forwards it is sure
That ev'ry Step advances his own Cure;

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Without Benevolence the View to Self
Makes worldly Riches an unrighteous Pelf;
While, blest thro' Life, the Giver for his Love
Dies, to receive its huge Reward above.

VI

To them who tread the certain Path to Bliss,
That leads thro' Scenes of Charity like this,
Think what the Saviour of the World will say:
“Ye blessèd of My Father, come your Way;
“'Twas done to Me, if done to the distrest:
“Come, ye true Friends, and be for ever blest!”