University of Virginia Library

PARADOX.

That Ambition, or the Desire of Rule and Superiority, is a Virtue.

This is a Truth so certain, and so clear,
That to the first-born Man it did appear.
Did not the mighty Heir, the noble Cain,
By the fresh Laws of Nature taught, disdain
That, tho a Brother, any one should be
A greater Favorite to God than he?
He struck him down; And so, said he, so fell
The Sheep, which thou didst sacrifice so well.
Since all the fullest Sheaves that I could bring,
Since all were blasted in the Offering;
Lest God should my next Victim too despise,
The acceptable Priest I'll sacrifice.
Hence Coward Fears: for the first Blood so spilt,
As a Reward, he the first City built.
'Twas a Beginning generous and high,
Fit for a Grand-Child of the Deity.
So well advanc'd, 'twas pity there he stay'd;
One step of Glory more he should have made,
And to the utmost bounds of Greatness gone;
Had Adam too been kill'd he might have reign'd alone.
One Brother's Death what do I mean to name?
A small Oblation to Revenge and Fame:
The mighty-soul'd Abimelech, to shew
What for high Place a higher Spirit can do,
Almost a Hecatomb of Brothers slew.
And seventy times in nearest Blood he dy'd
(To make it hold) his Royal Purple Pride.
Why do I name the Lordly Creature Man?
The weak, the mild, the coward Woman can,
When to a Crown she cuts her sacred way,
All that oppose with Manlike Courage slay.
So Athaliah, when she saw her Son,
And with his Life her dearer Greatness gone,
With a Majestick Fury slaughter'd all,
Whom high Birth might to high Pretences call.
Since he was dead, who all her Power sustain'd,
Resolv'd to reign alone: Resolv'd and reign'd.
In vain her Sex, in vain the Laws withstood,
In vain the sacred Plea of David's Blood.
A noble and a bold Contention she
(One Woman) undertook with Destiny:
She to pluck down, Destiny to uphold
(Oblig'd by holy Oracles of old)
The great Jessæan Race on Judah's Throne,
Till 'twas at last an equal Wager grown,
Scarce Fate, with much ado, the better got by one.
Tell me not she her self at last was slain;
Did she not first seven Years, a Life-time reign?
Seven Royal Years to a publick Spirit will seem
More than the private Life of a Methusalem.
'Tis God-like to be great; and as they say,
A thousand Years to God are but a Day:
So to a Man, when once a Crown he wears,
The Coronation Day's more than a thousand Years.