The grand Tryal or, Poetical Exercitations upon the book of Job. Wherein, Suitable to each Text of that sacred Book, a modest Explanation, and Continuation of the several Discourses contained in it, is attempted by William Clark |
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| I. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| II. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| III. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. | Cap. XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| IV. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| V. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
 | The grand Tryal |  |
Cap. XXVIII.
Thus then you see, how friendly I allow
What you assert, but I must tell you now,
That after all, 'tis my opinion still,
(Reason to th'contrair, as much as you will)
That though th'Almighty on the wicked sends
Those ills, I have related, yet, my friends,
We must not thence conclude at any rate,
That in his actings God is limitat,
To punish only such as plagues do merit,
For I do hold that as he is a Spirit,
Infinit, and incomprehensible,
So all his actings are unsearchable.
And therefore, of a truth, I see not well,
How we can longer on this subject dwell,
And dive into the knowledge of such things,
As far exceed all humane reasonings:
Or strive to comprehend, without offence,
The various windings of his Providence.
'Tis true, the wit of man, may safely pry
In things on Earth, and with security,
Unriddle all the mystick passages,
Which in the Book of Nature, do expresse
His Power, and Glory, and which he thought fit
T'abscond, that he might try his Creatures wit,
In finding of them out, 'tis true indeed,
A man with satisfaction may read
The works of God: as by his mighty hand,
Has writ them in the Caverns of the Land,
And bottom of the Seas: yea, we suppose,
One may all Natures Cabinet unclose,
By force of art: and happily find out
Each privat shuttle, whilst he looks about
For things conceal'd, nay, there he safely may
By his own art, discover every day
The greatnesse of his God: especially
When in Earths bowels, with an Artists eye
In search of Mines, and Minerals he doth pry.
Yes, in all these, 'tis lawful for a man
To try his wit, and labour what he can
To trace those By-roads of obscurity,
Which lead to th'Caverns, where Earths Treasures ly.
For our great God not only doth allow
Such curious searchings, but assists him too
In his endeavours, so as he doth find,
Besides great wealth, a mean t'enrich his mind,
By knowledge of those Mines, which certainly,
Fully compenses all his industry.
Whils't he admires to see in every Mine,
How much the glory of his God doth shine,
And, as he works, discovers more, and more,
His worth, and sees his power in every Ore.
What you assert, but I must tell you now,
That after all, 'tis my opinion still,
(Reason to th'contrair, as much as you will)
That though th'Almighty on the wicked sends
Those ills, I have related, yet, my friends,
We must not thence conclude at any rate,
That in his actings God is limitat,
To punish only such as plagues do merit,
For I do hold that as he is a Spirit,
Infinit, and incomprehensible,
So all his actings are unsearchable.
And therefore, of a truth, I see not well,
How we can longer on this subject dwell,
227
As far exceed all humane reasonings:
Or strive to comprehend, without offence,
The various windings of his Providence.
'Tis true, the wit of man, may safely pry
In things on Earth, and with security,
Unriddle all the mystick passages,
Which in the Book of Nature, do expresse
His Power, and Glory, and which he thought fit
T'abscond, that he might try his Creatures wit,
In finding of them out, 'tis true indeed,
A man with satisfaction may read
The works of God: as by his mighty hand,
Has writ them in the Caverns of the Land,
And bottom of the Seas: yea, we suppose,
One may all Natures Cabinet unclose,
By force of art: and happily find out
Each privat shuttle, whilst he looks about
For things conceal'd, nay, there he safely may
By his own art, discover every day
The greatnesse of his God: especially
When in Earths bowels, with an Artists eye
In search of Mines, and Minerals he doth pry.
Yes, in all these, 'tis lawful for a man
To try his wit, and labour what he can
To trace those By-roads of obscurity,
Which lead to th'Caverns, where Earths Treasures ly.
For our great God not only doth allow
Such curious searchings, but assists him too
In his endeavours, so as he doth find,
Besides great wealth, a mean t'enrich his mind,
By knowledge of those Mines, which certainly,
Fully compenses all his industry.
Whils't he admires to see in every Mine,
How much the glory of his God doth shine,
And, as he works, discovers more, and more,
His worth, and sees his power in every Ore.
For who'd not take delite to understand,
How in Earths womb that high and mighty hand
Which all things fram'd, has fram'd those Mettals too,
About which Artists keep so much ado.
Whilst some do think that in the first Creation,
All Stones, and Mettals, in the very fashion,
As now we see them, did exist compleat,
'Gainst which opinion, others do debate,
That they're not of Original Creation,
But are produc'd by daily Generation,
'Twixt sulphur, as they think, and Mercury,
Which in Earths hidden Veins do scattered ly:
Of which, that Male, and this, they Female call,
From whose congression, every Mineral
They say doth spring, and to conceal the same,
That fœtid spirit, this dry-water name.
Yet, though from this Congression they hold
All other Mettals flow, they say that Gold,
As a most perfect, pure, and solid Creature,
VVithout all mixtion, is produc'd by Nature,
Others again, who make it their profession,
To know such things, say from the same congression,
Gold doth proceed: for if the mixture be
In just proportions, and they both agree
In quantity, then by a temperat,
And soft Decoction, with a moderat heat,
I'th' bowels of clean earth, and there condens'd
VVith Moisture Radical, earth wash'd and cleans'd
From all corruption, they at length become
A fusile thing, and this is held by some
To be pure Gold; next when that mixture fails,
And Sulphure over Mercury prevails,
Then Silver is produc'd, which they esteem
As baser, and Gold's younger Brother name.
Then, when the substance of these is impure,
And they're not mix'd with æquilibrature,
Nor in earths bowels duely tempered,
They do become Tinn, Iron, Copper, Lead.
Against this too, there's others do debate,
And say all Minerals are procreat
From th'mixture of thin Earth, with whitest Water,
Which they affirm to be the only matter
Whence Mettals do proceed, and that 'tis so,
They prove, 'cause Mettals do like Water flow,
By strength of Fire: from whence they do assert,
As all things are reduc'd, by Rules of Art,
To their first Principles, so when we see
Those Mettals flow, their Matter sure must be
Some liquid thing: for so they say 'tis plain,
VVhen they by cold are soon condens'd again
As waters are. Others again assert,
And labour to make out, by Rules of Art,
That out of Earth, and VVater mix'd, adust,
And in Earth's Oven, bak'd into a Crust:
Springs Vitriol, which doth all Mettals breed,
From which, as their first Matter, they proceed.
Because all Mettals, when dissolv'd, appear
Like Vitriol: besides they say, 'tis clear,
That Oyl from Vitriol Sublimat is drawn,
By which all Mettals are reduc'd again
To their first Matter. Others there be yet,
VVho on this Subject eagerly debate,
That from earths intrails a dry breath ascends,
VVhich mix't with watry vapours upward tends,
And, as it meets with earth accomodate,
And by its matter become Sublimate,
Condens'd by cold, this, or that Mettal flows,
And it Gold, Silver, Lead, Iron, Copper grows.
And last of all, there's others that debate
That Mettals are all truly procreat
'Twixt th'elements, which do give both to all,
And those we name Bodies Celestial.
But whatsoever be their generation,
Sure 'tis a matter worth our admiration,
To think Earths bowels doth such things prepare
As frets us all to know what things they are.
Mystical creatures whose origination
In vain we search; and trace their procreation,
But by uncertain rules; for after all
We must acknowledge every Mineral
Is fram'd by th'hand of God; and seriously,
After all Arts, profound subtility,
What we suppose, their birth must be confess't
Are but sublime conjectures at the best.
How in Earths womb that high and mighty hand
Which all things fram'd, has fram'd those Mettals too,
About which Artists keep so much ado.
Whilst some do think that in the first Creation,
All Stones, and Mettals, in the very fashion,
As now we see them, did exist compleat,
'Gainst which opinion, others do debate,
That they're not of Original Creation,
But are produc'd by daily Generation,
'Twixt sulphur, as they think, and Mercury,
Which in Earths hidden Veins do scattered ly:
Of which, that Male, and this, they Female call,
From whose congression, every Mineral
They say doth spring, and to conceal the same,
That fœtid spirit, this dry-water name.
Yet, though from this Congression they hold
228
As a most perfect, pure, and solid Creature,
VVithout all mixtion, is produc'd by Nature,
Others again, who make it their profession,
To know such things, say from the same congression,
Gold doth proceed: for if the mixture be
In just proportions, and they both agree
In quantity, then by a temperat,
And soft Decoction, with a moderat heat,
I'th' bowels of clean earth, and there condens'd
VVith Moisture Radical, earth wash'd and cleans'd
From all corruption, they at length become
A fusile thing, and this is held by some
To be pure Gold; next when that mixture fails,
And Sulphure over Mercury prevails,
Then Silver is produc'd, which they esteem
As baser, and Gold's younger Brother name.
Then, when the substance of these is impure,
And they're not mix'd with æquilibrature,
Nor in earths bowels duely tempered,
They do become Tinn, Iron, Copper, Lead.
Against this too, there's others do debate,
And say all Minerals are procreat
From th'mixture of thin Earth, with whitest Water,
Which they affirm to be the only matter
Whence Mettals do proceed, and that 'tis so,
They prove, 'cause Mettals do like Water flow,
By strength of Fire: from whence they do assert,
As all things are reduc'd, by Rules of Art,
To their first Principles, so when we see
Those Mettals flow, their Matter sure must be
Some liquid thing: for so they say 'tis plain,
VVhen they by cold are soon condens'd again
As waters are. Others again assert,
And labour to make out, by Rules of Art,
That out of Earth, and VVater mix'd, adust,
And in Earth's Oven, bak'd into a Crust:
Springs Vitriol, which doth all Mettals breed,
From which, as their first Matter, they proceed.
Because all Mettals, when dissolv'd, appear
Like Vitriol: besides they say, 'tis clear,
That Oyl from Vitriol Sublimat is drawn,
By which all Mettals are reduc'd again
To their first Matter. Others there be yet,
VVho on this Subject eagerly debate,
That from earths intrails a dry breath ascends,
VVhich mix't with watry vapours upward tends,
And, as it meets with earth accomodate,
And by its matter become Sublimate,
Condens'd by cold, this, or that Mettal flows,
And it Gold, Silver, Lead, Iron, Copper grows.
And last of all, there's others that debate
That Mettals are all truly procreat
'Twixt th'elements, which do give both to all,
229
But whatsoever be their generation,
Sure 'tis a matter worth our admiration,
To think Earths bowels doth such things prepare
As frets us all to know what things they are.
Mystical creatures whose origination
In vain we search; and trace their procreation,
But by uncertain rules; for after all
We must acknowledge every Mineral
Is fram'd by th'hand of God; and seriously,
After all Arts, profound subtility,
What we suppose, their birth must be confess't
Are but sublime conjectures at the best.
Then to proceed to th'several species,
Of that so vagrant subterraneous race:
First let's observe what we in Silver see,
Which from Earths-center, branches like a Tree,
And its small roots so cunningly doth spread,
Some here, some there, on purpose scattered,
As though it fear'd to be discovered,
By th'Art of Miners, yet the Art of man
Finds out this Mineral do what it can
To hide it self in Natures most recluse,
And private Cells; and for a publick use
Brings it above Ground; where the silly Ore,
Which in Earths bowels signified no more
Then its own Sparr: and in no more esteem
Then Lead, or Copper, soon procures a name.
After it's washen, sifted, melted, cast
In massy Ingots, stamp'd, and coyn'd at last,
Above its fellow Minerals, and doth hold
In mens esteem the second place to Gold.
To Gold, why there too is a boasting Ore,
Though in its Veins it signifies no more
Then other Mettals, yellow Earth at best,
Meer coloured Dust, but once brought to the Test,
'Tis no more dust, 'tis no more simple Ore,
No more a heap of Sand, as't was before:
But now a most illustrious name it bears,
Beyond all Mettals, and indeed appears
To be the Worlds Idol.
Of that so vagrant subterraneous race:
First let's observe what we in Silver see,
Which from Earths-center, branches like a Tree,
And its small roots so cunningly doth spread,
Some here, some there, on purpose scattered,
As though it fear'd to be discovered,
By th'Art of Miners, yet the Art of man
Finds out this Mineral do what it can
To hide it self in Natures most recluse,
And private Cells; and for a publick use
Brings it above Ground; where the silly Ore,
Which in Earths bowels signified no more
Then its own Sparr: and in no more esteem
Then Lead, or Copper, soon procures a name.
After it's washen, sifted, melted, cast
In massy Ingots, stamp'd, and coyn'd at last,
Above its fellow Minerals, and doth hold
In mens esteem the second place to Gold.
To Gold, why there too is a boasting Ore,
Though in its Veins it signifies no more
Then other Mettals, yellow Earth at best,
Meer coloured Dust, but once brought to the Test,
'Tis no more dust, 'tis no more simple Ore,
No more a heap of Sand, as't was before:
But now a most illustrious name it bears,
Beyond all Mettals, and indeed appears
To be the Worlds Idol.
This, O this, Mettal! this dear Mineral!
This Earths Elixir! this fair all in all!
This princely Dust! what figures doth it make
Amongst poor Mortals! how oft doth it break
The bonds of Conscience, and Morality,
Th'interest of Blood, and common Honesty;
Makes wars and Tumults 'mongst the race of men,
And quickly reconciles them all again.
Tyes, and un-tyes, kills, wounds; and heals apace,
Leads men in favour, brings them in disgrace:
Sets up with this hand, and with that pulls down,
What 'ere it lists, from th'Budget to the Crown,
This is the Standart, which doth regulate
The actions of men; and sets a Rate,
On every Head, this puts a Valuation
On every Kingdom, State, and Corporation.
In short, this Gold makes such a mighty sound,
And keeps such Domineering, above ground,
As it gives Laws to all the World a-round.
For Gold, for Gold, alace all's bart'red now
For that proud Mettal; and with much adoe;
A few poor soules, who generouslie soare
Above the scent of that infecting Ore
Escape, which, were they catch'd, would soon be sold,
Amongst so many thousands too for Gold.
This Earths Elixir! this fair all in all!
This princely Dust! what figures doth it make
Amongst poor Mortals! how oft doth it break
The bonds of Conscience, and Morality,
Th'interest of Blood, and common Honesty;
Makes wars and Tumults 'mongst the race of men,
And quickly reconciles them all again.
Tyes, and un-tyes, kills, wounds; and heals apace,
Leads men in favour, brings them in disgrace:
Sets up with this hand, and with that pulls down,
What 'ere it lists, from th'Budget to the Crown,
This is the Standart, which doth regulate
230
On every Head, this puts a Valuation
On every Kingdom, State, and Corporation.
In short, this Gold makes such a mighty sound,
And keeps such Domineering, above ground,
As it gives Laws to all the World a-round.
For Gold, for Gold, alace all's bart'red now
For that proud Mettal; and with much adoe;
A few poor soules, who generouslie soare
Above the scent of that infecting Ore
Escape, which, were they catch'd, would soon be sold,
Amongst so many thousands too for Gold.
Yet that I may give this same Gold its due,
As't has its Vices, for its Virtues too
Are Eminent, which Artists do relate,
Who of the state of Minerals do treate.
'Tis prov'd by these, then in their Operations,
(Which surely are the best of Demonstrations)
That gold is such a Mettal, as the fire,
(In which all other Minerals expire,
At least much of their Weight and Substance lose
In every trial) though from Bellows nose,
Suppli'd with constant aid; yet after all
Can not subdue this solid Mineral;
Or make it quit the very smallest grain,
Of Weight, which in its Ore it did contain.
Next as a mark of its true purity,
We see it has this singular quality,
Above all other Mettals: that it never
Leaves any Tincture on the hand, however
It frequently be handled: then again
Sharp Juyces, which all other Mettals stain,
And by degrees corrodes: if Gold do ly
In such, it nothing of its quantity
Doth lose: nay, to the brim a Vessel fill
With Water, then but sink it in with skill,
A lump of Gold, yet th'water shall not spill,
Or in the least run over, by which sign
Artists find out, what Gold is purely fine.
For if but allay'd with the smallest Grain
Of other Mettals, 't will, run o're. Again
This Gold, though pure, and soft, yet 'tis not frail,
Nor can the Hammer in the least prevail
To break this Mettal: as 't would do a Stone,
In little pieces, no, for 't is well known,
By strength of hand, upon the Anvil beat,
In such thin Leaves it doth it self dilate,
As out of one Grain fifty Leaves, or moe
Have been beat out by th'hammer: whence we know
Of what pure Matter Gold consists. Again
This Mettal seems for ever to remain
In its perfection, for when eating Rust
Reduces other Minerals to Dust,
By length of wasting-time, on upright Gold,
What eats all other Mettals, takes no hold:
On Gold: no Rust, no Verdi-greese appears,
Though buried under ground a thousand years:
But after all, its Weight, and Quantitie,
Pure Substance, solid Grain, and Qualitie
Will be the same, as when at first prepar'd
By Artists hand. Then if we do regard
Its usefulnesse for Humane Life, no Mine
Produces such a Cordial Medicine,
As is this Gold: for being cold and dry,
It guards the heart by its Frigidity,
From all infecting Exhalations, hence
Princes not onlie for Magnificence,
But out of Cups of Gold for Health do drink,
As out of Wholesome Mettal, for some think
Gold for its drynesse powerfullie resists
All Putrid Humours.—
Then for Splenetick Vapors, Plates of Gold
Made often hot, i'th' fire, as often cool'd
In Earthen Vessels, full of purest Wine
Drunk up by such, whom that Disease doth pine,
Doth quicklie cure 'em: nay this Liquor too,
As most of our Physicians avow,
And some inform us by Experience,
Is a firm Antidote against Pestilence,
And these infected Cures. But what needs more,
'Twould take up too much time to reckon o're
Its numerous qualities: now let us see
What other Minerals in Earths Closet be,
As't has its Vices, for its Virtues too
Are Eminent, which Artists do relate,
Who of the state of Minerals do treate.
'Tis prov'd by these, then in their Operations,
(Which surely are the best of Demonstrations)
That gold is such a Mettal, as the fire,
(In which all other Minerals expire,
At least much of their Weight and Substance lose
In every trial) though from Bellows nose,
Suppli'd with constant aid; yet after all
Can not subdue this solid Mineral;
Or make it quit the very smallest grain,
Of Weight, which in its Ore it did contain.
Next as a mark of its true purity,
We see it has this singular quality,
Above all other Mettals: that it never
Leaves any Tincture on the hand, however
It frequently be handled: then again
Sharp Juyces, which all other Mettals stain,
And by degrees corrodes: if Gold do ly
In such, it nothing of its quantity
Doth lose: nay, to the brim a Vessel fill
With Water, then but sink it in with skill,
A lump of Gold, yet th'water shall not spill,
Or in the least run over, by which sign
Artists find out, what Gold is purely fine.
For if but allay'd with the smallest Grain
Of other Mettals, 't will, run o're. Again
This Gold, though pure, and soft, yet 'tis not frail,
Nor can the Hammer in the least prevail
To break this Mettal: as 't would do a Stone,
In little pieces, no, for 't is well known,
By strength of hand, upon the Anvil beat,
In such thin Leaves it doth it self dilate,
As out of one Grain fifty Leaves, or moe
Have been beat out by th'hammer: whence we know
Of what pure Matter Gold consists. Again
This Mettal seems for ever to remain
In its perfection, for when eating Rust
Reduces other Minerals to Dust,
By length of wasting-time, on upright Gold,
231
On Gold: no Rust, no Verdi-greese appears,
Though buried under ground a thousand years:
But after all, its Weight, and Quantitie,
Pure Substance, solid Grain, and Qualitie
Will be the same, as when at first prepar'd
By Artists hand. Then if we do regard
Its usefulnesse for Humane Life, no Mine
Produces such a Cordial Medicine,
As is this Gold: for being cold and dry,
It guards the heart by its Frigidity,
From all infecting Exhalations, hence
Princes not onlie for Magnificence,
But out of Cups of Gold for Health do drink,
As out of Wholesome Mettal, for some think
Gold for its drynesse powerfullie resists
All Putrid Humours.—
Then for Splenetick Vapors, Plates of Gold
Made often hot, i'th' fire, as often cool'd
In Earthen Vessels, full of purest Wine
Drunk up by such, whom that Disease doth pine,
Doth quicklie cure 'em: nay this Liquor too,
As most of our Physicians avow,
And some inform us by Experience,
Is a firm Antidote against Pestilence,
And these infected Cures. But what needs more,
'Twould take up too much time to reckon o're
Its numerous qualities: now let us see
What other Minerals in Earths Closet be,
Why there is Iron, a Mineral that's found
Not much below the Superfice o'th' ground,
By th'art of man, a rugged heavy stone,
Appearing of no value, but anon
Brought to the Mill, and Furnace, smelted, cast
In Barres: to th'fire, and Anvil brought at last,
Becomes so firm a Mettal, so entire,
And solid, as a man cannot desire
A thing more useful: for if he intend
In sweet Agriculture, his life to spend,
Without this Mettal he can nothing do,
He cannot cut down Woods, he cannot plough,
He cannot make the Earth that Grain afford,
Which feeds the stock of Mankind: in a word,
He who intends this honest life to lead,
Must by his Iron win his daily bread.
Or if in War he rather takes delight,
And hating Peace he doth incline to fight:
Why without this bold Mettal, in his hand,
Had as good stay at home, and plough the Land,
As go th'Camp: but with that furnished,
He soon gains reputation by the Blade.
Or if on th'other hand his inclination
Makes him in love, with Trade, and Navigation,
Without this Mettal, he's a fool that dares
To the uncertain Ocean trust his Wares.
By this the Boards are fix'd, which do compose
Th'adventuring thing, in which to Sea he goes.
By this, when Wind-swoln waves do proudly roar,
On every side, and threaten to devour
The trembling Oak, in which this man doth steer,
Even ready to expire for very fear,
When, in good earnest he doth now perceive
Th'insulting Billows offer him a Grave:
And views the Sealy Champions of the Seas,
Who wait on such occasions as these,
(As Birds of prey for Carrions at Land)
Assemble in great Troops on every hand,
To feed upon his flesh: by this I say
He doth procure a merciful delay
From gracious Providence.
On this to Hauser ty'd and then let drop
To the Seas bottom, under God, his hope
Alone depends; on this nail'd to the Ground
He safely rides, while Death doth him surround,
And Clouds of terror on all hands environ,
He owes his life to this small piece of Iron,
Which holds all sure: and when the Storm is gone,
With joy he weighs this useful thing anone;
Tyes it to his Ships-bow; then on his knees,
When he perceives a calmness in the Seas,
Thanks God for his delivery, and then
Hoises his Sails, and so to Sea again
Upon his lawful Trade.
Then if for Handy-crafts he do incline,
Without this Mettal, he who doth design
A Manufacture; labours but in vain;
For, without Iron, he never can obtain
What he intends; but by it easily
Can all the World with useful things supply.
Nay further, if perhaps a man inclines
To become rich by Minerals and Mines,
And th'other Ores, in Earths dark Kennels trace,
'Tis only Iron must do his business:
The Pick-ax, and the Shovel, without doubt,
Are th'only tools can find that treasure out.
In fine this Mettal, this same rugged stone;
Doth for so many uses serve, that none
O'th' other Mettals can with it compare,
And were this vulgar Mineral as rare
As Gold, and Silver, since so many call
For it to humane use; it would them all
Exceed in value, and be quickly able
T'attain the title of inestimable.
Not much below the Superfice o'th' ground,
By th'art of man, a rugged heavy stone,
Appearing of no value, but anon
Brought to the Mill, and Furnace, smelted, cast
In Barres: to th'fire, and Anvil brought at last,
Becomes so firm a Mettal, so entire,
And solid, as a man cannot desire
A thing more useful: for if he intend
In sweet Agriculture, his life to spend,
Without this Mettal he can nothing do,
He cannot cut down Woods, he cannot plough,
He cannot make the Earth that Grain afford,
Which feeds the stock of Mankind: in a word,
He who intends this honest life to lead,
Must by his Iron win his daily bread.
Or if in War he rather takes delight,
And hating Peace he doth incline to fight:
Why without this bold Mettal, in his hand,
Had as good stay at home, and plough the Land,
As go th'Camp: but with that furnished,
He soon gains reputation by the Blade.
Or if on th'other hand his inclination
Makes him in love, with Trade, and Navigation,
Without this Mettal, he's a fool that dares
232
By this the Boards are fix'd, which do compose
Th'adventuring thing, in which to Sea he goes.
By this, when Wind-swoln waves do proudly roar,
On every side, and threaten to devour
The trembling Oak, in which this man doth steer,
Even ready to expire for very fear,
When, in good earnest he doth now perceive
Th'insulting Billows offer him a Grave:
And views the Sealy Champions of the Seas,
Who wait on such occasions as these,
(As Birds of prey for Carrions at Land)
Assemble in great Troops on every hand,
To feed upon his flesh: by this I say
He doth procure a merciful delay
From gracious Providence.
On this to Hauser ty'd and then let drop
To the Seas bottom, under God, his hope
Alone depends; on this nail'd to the Ground
He safely rides, while Death doth him surround,
And Clouds of terror on all hands environ,
He owes his life to this small piece of Iron,
Which holds all sure: and when the Storm is gone,
With joy he weighs this useful thing anone;
Tyes it to his Ships-bow; then on his knees,
When he perceives a calmness in the Seas,
Thanks God for his delivery, and then
Hoises his Sails, and so to Sea again
Upon his lawful Trade.
Then if for Handy-crafts he do incline,
Without this Mettal, he who doth design
A Manufacture; labours but in vain;
For, without Iron, he never can obtain
What he intends; but by it easily
Can all the World with useful things supply.
Nay further, if perhaps a man inclines
To become rich by Minerals and Mines,
And th'other Ores, in Earths dark Kennels trace,
'Tis only Iron must do his business:
The Pick-ax, and the Shovel, without doubt,
Are th'only tools can find that treasure out.
In fine this Mettal, this same rugged stone;
Doth for so many uses serve, that none
O'th' other Mettals can with it compare,
And were this vulgar Mineral as rare
As Gold, and Silver, since so many call
For it to humane use; it would them all
Exceed in value, and be quickly able
T'attain the title of inestimable.
The wit of man doth find out Copper too
By Art, and Labour, and with much ado,
Brings it to'th' Furnace, where it smelts it down
By a strong well fomented fire, and soon
Casts it in Plates; by Artists hand, annon
This Ore mix'd with th'Calaminary Stone,
And smelted down together in a Mass,
Becomes that compound Mettal we call Brass.
An useful Mettal, durable and fair,
And save with Gold, and Silver may compare
VVith all the other Ores, which in its Veins
Scaturient here and there the earth contains.
By Art, and Labour, and with much ado,
Brings it to'th' Furnace, where it smelts it down
By a strong well fomented fire, and soon
Casts it in Plates; by Artists hand, annon
233
And smelted down together in a Mass,
Becomes that compound Mettal we call Brass.
An useful Mettal, durable and fair,
And save with Gold, and Silver may compare
VVith all the other Ores, which in its Veins
Scaturient here and there the earth contains.
Now in all these a man may lawfully
Improve his art, and by his Industry
Unrip Earths VVomb, and openly reveal
VVhat Nature in the dark would fain conceal.
Yes by this art, and labour every day
To his dear Ore he may cut out his way,
Through horrid darkness, which by Candle light
He clears, and lays all open to the sight,
VVhat prudent nature from earths serous part
Had separate, and without help of Art,
Attracted to its Meseraick Veins,
And scattered here and there in lobs and grains;
But yet so cunningly, that after all
VVhat man on earth can pain and labour call,
'Tis so conceal'd, for all his art, no doubt,
He has enough adoe to find it out.
Their humane art, and wicked labour too,
Finds out those Stones, to which we do allow
No small esteem; nay in that value hold,
As some are hardly to be bought for Gold.
Improve his art, and by his Industry
Unrip Earths VVomb, and openly reveal
VVhat Nature in the dark would fain conceal.
Yes by this art, and labour every day
To his dear Ore he may cut out his way,
Through horrid darkness, which by Candle light
He clears, and lays all open to the sight,
VVhat prudent nature from earths serous part
Had separate, and without help of Art,
Attracted to its Meseraick Veins,
And scattered here and there in lobs and grains;
But yet so cunningly, that after all
VVhat man on earth can pain and labour call,
'Tis so conceal'd, for all his art, no doubt,
He has enough adoe to find it out.
Their humane art, and wicked labour too,
Finds out those Stones, to which we do allow
No small esteem; nay in that value hold,
As some are hardly to be bought for Gold.
In search of these then, and his darling Ores,
He ventures forward, and the earth so bores
On every side, where he perceives the Vein
But half-inch-thick, as with much toil and pain,
He digs a-round it, as much scantling waste,
As may afford him lodging on his breast,
Upon which creeping, with his Tools and Sticks
The Ore out of its Veins in Grains he picks,
Which put in little Bags, throne to his Breast,
A-crosse, the other to his Back ty'd fast,
At least now fourty fathoms under ground,
Whilst horrid damps his Senses so confound,
As he is almost stifled: yet at last
He climbs above ground: thinks all danger past
When he perceives the Sun so brightly shine,
To which he was a stranger in the Mine.
Yet many who below ground dig for Ore,
Choak'd with bad vapours, see that light no more.
He ventures forward, and the earth so bores
On every side, where he perceives the Vein
But half-inch-thick, as with much toil and pain,
He digs a-round it, as much scantling waste,
As may afford him lodging on his breast,
Upon which creeping, with his Tools and Sticks
The Ore out of its Veins in Grains he picks,
Which put in little Bags, throne to his Breast,
A-crosse, the other to his Back ty'd fast,
At least now fourty fathoms under ground,
Whilst horrid damps his Senses so confound,
As he is almost stifled: yet at last
He climbs above ground: thinks all danger past
When he perceives the Sun so brightly shine,
To which he was a stranger in the Mine.
Yet many who below ground dig for Ore,
Choak'd with bad vapours, see that light no more.
Nor meet they only with Malignant Air,
Who to these Mineral-regions repair:
But also whilst they labour under ground,
By Waters which from hidden Springs arround
Rush in upon the Mines, they're almost drown'd.
Yet doth the wit of man, with much adoe,
At length o'recome this great obstruction too,
By carrying on of Levells, in which all
The Neighbouring Springs, as in a Cistern fall,
And in that Trough are secretly convey'd,
And emptied at some petty Rivers side;
Whose twinkling Streams do trindle in a Line,
Parallell with the Basis of the Mine.
Or if this Mine they work in, deeper lies,
Than any part o'th' Neighbouring Superfice,
Then, in this Canal, safely carried
To the Shafts bottom, they're delivered,
In numerous Buckets, which do there attend,
And are let down in hundreds for that end:
And by these brought aloft, are emptied
In the next Ditch; and thence securely spread
Amongst the Neighbouring Fields.
Or if they do not by these Levels drain,
And fit for work this profitable Vein;
Then by the strength of Pumps, they suck up all
Those Waters which infest the Mineral,
And render it so easie by degrees,
As they dig out their precious Ore, with ease:
Who to these Mineral-regions repair:
But also whilst they labour under ground,
By Waters which from hidden Springs arround
Rush in upon the Mines, they're almost drown'd.
Yet doth the wit of man, with much adoe,
At length o'recome this great obstruction too,
By carrying on of Levells, in which all
The Neighbouring Springs, as in a Cistern fall,
234
And emptied at some petty Rivers side;
Whose twinkling Streams do trindle in a Line,
Parallell with the Basis of the Mine.
Or if this Mine they work in, deeper lies,
Than any part o'th' Neighbouring Superfice,
Then, in this Canal, safely carried
To the Shafts bottom, they're delivered,
In numerous Buckets, which do there attend,
And are let down in hundreds for that end:
And by these brought aloft, are emptied
In the next Ditch; and thence securely spread
Amongst the Neighbouring Fields.
Or if they do not by these Levels drain,
And fit for work this profitable Vein;
Then by the strength of Pumps, they suck up all
Those Waters which infest the Mineral,
And render it so easie by degrees,
As they dig out their precious Ore, with ease:
Nor are they only with infecting Air,
And Waters, sorely vex't who labour there;
But with Fire too: for though earth's Superfice
Affords us Bread at a convenient price,
Of wholesome labour, and contentedly
Returns the product of our industry:
As willing to be Plow'd and Furrowed,
Yet if in labour further we proceed,
And with presuming-tools, dare undertake
T'unrip her Belly, and with pleasure rake
Her very Bowels, to find out those Ores,
There kept by Nature in concealed Stores.
Then she grows angry, then she convocats
All aid she can, from her Confederats,
Bad Air, foul Water, and consuming Fire,
Which with her every minute do conspire,
T'undoe the Miners hope.
For sometimes, when she meets with Sulphur Veins,
(Which allay almost every Mine contains)
Some Sparks, that from their Lamps, or Candles fall,
Kindle that combustible Mineral,
Which flaming quickly, with a noisome smoak,
Doth often times the half-breath'd Miner choak:
But in a trice by Humane Industry,
This flame is quench'd, and Miners by and by
Do freely dig, and follow out the Vein,
How e're their angry Mother Earth complain.
And Waters, sorely vex't who labour there;
But with Fire too: for though earth's Superfice
Affords us Bread at a convenient price,
Of wholesome labour, and contentedly
Returns the product of our industry:
As willing to be Plow'd and Furrowed,
Yet if in labour further we proceed,
And with presuming-tools, dare undertake
T'unrip her Belly, and with pleasure rake
Her very Bowels, to find out those Ores,
There kept by Nature in concealed Stores.
Then she grows angry, then she convocats
All aid she can, from her Confederats,
Bad Air, foul Water, and consuming Fire,
Which with her every minute do conspire,
T'undoe the Miners hope.
For sometimes, when she meets with Sulphur Veins,
(Which allay almost every Mine contains)
Some Sparks, that from their Lamps, or Candles fall,
Kindle that combustible Mineral,
Which flaming quickly, with a noisome smoak,
Doth often times the half-breath'd Miner choak:
But in a trice by Humane Industry,
This flame is quench'd, and Miners by and by
Do freely dig, and follow out the Vein,
How e're their angry Mother Earth complain.
Their Mother Earth, who angry to the heart,
To see her self Piece-meal'd, by Miners Art
Doth spare no labour, but endeavours still
T'obstruct their works, (let them dig as they will)
For when she sees that neither Water, Fire,
Nor Air can stop their covetous desire,
With Stones and Dust she stops the passages,
And all the Avenues embarrasses,
Which to the so much long'd for Vein do lead;
Yet in his journey he doth still proceed.
He breaks those Stones, and pounds them, sifts their dust,
In which to find some Saphires he doth trust.
Because such Stones are usually found
Wrap'd up amongst such baggage, under ground;
Or else to find there, some small scattered Grains
Of extravasat Gold, which it containes
Most usually, and of all his pains,
May pay the uncost. So then after all,
The art of man doth pierce this stony wall;
Beats down those rattling Barricades of dust,
And by main force himself doth further thrust,
Into Earths Inner-works, advances still,
Let the enraged thing do what it will,
T'obstruct his passage:) yet he still makes way,
Untill at length her hoord becomes his prey.
To see her self Piece-meal'd, by Miners Art
Doth spare no labour, but endeavours still
T'obstruct their works, (let them dig as they will)
For when she sees that neither Water, Fire,
Nor Air can stop their covetous desire,
With Stones and Dust she stops the passages,
And all the Avenues embarrasses,
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Yet in his journey he doth still proceed.
He breaks those Stones, and pounds them, sifts their dust,
In which to find some Saphires he doth trust.
Because such Stones are usually found
Wrap'd up amongst such baggage, under ground;
Or else to find there, some small scattered Grains
Of extravasat Gold, which it containes
Most usually, and of all his pains,
May pay the uncost. So then after all,
The art of man doth pierce this stony wall;
Beats down those rattling Barricades of dust,
And by main force himself doth further thrust,
Into Earths Inner-works, advances still,
Let the enraged thing do what it will,
T'obstruct his passage:) yet he still makes way,
Untill at length her hoord becomes his prey.
A way indeed he makes unknown to all,
Save those alone who hunt for Mineral.
No Birds of prey, whose sharp and piercing eyes,
Discover every privat hole, where lyes
The lesser timorous Bird, and lurks for fear
Of those voracious Tyrants of the Air,
Do know this way.—
Nay, even the Vulture, who hath sharpest eyes,
Of any ravenous murderer that flyes,
And for his prey doth ramble high, and low,
Through every way, yet this way cannot know.
Save those alone who hunt for Mineral.
No Birds of prey, whose sharp and piercing eyes,
Discover every privat hole, where lyes
The lesser timorous Bird, and lurks for fear
Of those voracious Tyrants of the Air,
Do know this way.—
Nay, even the Vulture, who hath sharpest eyes,
Of any ravenous murderer that flyes,
And for his prey doth ramble high, and low,
Through every way, yet this way cannot know.
To th'Lyon too, who for his prey doth range,
Both far, and near, the Miners way is strange;
For in that way such various windings are,
As no By-roads above ground can compare,
With its Mæanders, nor can we conceive,
How squib-like here, and there, the digging slave
Doth squirt himself into each hidden pore,
To find the seat of this same lurking Ore:
Were but the Lyon entred in this way
And there let loose a hunting of his prey,
For all his wit, he'd surely go astray.
Both far, and near, the Miners way is strange;
For in that way such various windings are,
As no By-roads above ground can compare,
With its Mæanders, nor can we conceive,
How squib-like here, and there, the digging slave
Doth squirt himself into each hidden pore,
To find the seat of this same lurking Ore:
Were but the Lyon entred in this way
And there let loose a hunting of his prey,
For all his wit, he'd surely go astray.
Yet the same way is so exactly known,
To him who digs for Minerals alone;
As they know all the turns, and windings there,
As well as these, who walks i'th' open Air,
Know all the high ways, on which men repair.
Nor will he quite this way, but still go on,
For all that either Water, Fire, or Stone,
Bad Air, or Dust can do: nay, further when
He meets with Rocks, he spairs no toil, or pain,
But through their hearts, with Pick axe cuts his way,
Though in the space of a long Summers day,
Scarce can he so much pick out of the Rocks,
After a many sad, and ponderous stroaks,
As but one little Hamper can contain,
Nor in his way to his beloved vein,
Can he advance but one poor foot of ground,
But is with Time obliged to compound,
For half a foot per diem; yet at length
He breaks this Rampart too, by art, and strength.
To him who digs for Minerals alone;
As they know all the turns, and windings there,
As well as these, who walks i'th' open Air,
Know all the high ways, on which men repair.
Nor will he quite this way, but still go on,
For all that either Water, Fire, or Stone,
Bad Air, or Dust can do: nay, further when
He meets with Rocks, he spairs no toil, or pain,
But through their hearts, with Pick axe cuts his way,
Though in the space of a long Summers day,
Scarce can he so much pick out of the Rocks,
After a many sad, and ponderous stroaks,
As but one little Hamper can contain,
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Can he advance but one poor foot of ground,
But is with Time obliged to compound,
For half a foot per diem; yet at length
He breaks this Rampart too, by art, and strength.
Then when the Earth perceives that nothing can
Withstand the restlesse endeavours of man.
That all her Fire-works, Water-works, and Air,
Stones, Rocks, and Flints, which posted every where,
Guard all the Passes, by which searching men
Can to her hidden Magazines attain;
Do serve for nothing, but that, maugre all,
She can do, he will have this Mineral:
She convocats at last her Arrierban,
Of evil Spirits, to confound this man:
These of a little bulk, but humane shape
Appear i'th' Vein, and sometimes seem to ape
The Miners labour, and indeed affright
The stoutest of those Diggers, with their sight,
At the first View, but seeing here, and there,
Those scattered Dæmons only sent to scar
His labour, he's at length familiar
VVith those poor harmlesse Devils, and nothing dreads
Those flying parties, but for all proceeds,
Upon his work, as if he did despise
The Earth, with this her last, and stale device.
For now he's Lord of his long look'd for Vein,
And his possession firmly will maintain,
'Gainst all her strength, and art, he's settled now
In that fair Province, which with much adoe,
And vast expence, has fairly purchased,
By length of time.—
And now the conquer'd, when she doth perceive,
All's lost, to save her life, becomes his slave:
At his command, she opens every where
Most patiently, and doth her Veins prepare
For th'Minors Launce, where e're he means to strick,
Tam'd by his Art, and of resistance sick.
Thus master of his wish, he first cuts out
The slender canals, through the Rocks about
The Mine, where he doth work, which may convey
The subterraneous waters quite away;
VVhich else would spoil his labour, and in these,
Sometimes his Ores too, he doth wash with ease,
VVhilst all Earths Treasure, every hour he sees.
Withstand the restlesse endeavours of man.
That all her Fire-works, Water-works, and Air,
Stones, Rocks, and Flints, which posted every where,
Guard all the Passes, by which searching men
Can to her hidden Magazines attain;
Do serve for nothing, but that, maugre all,
She can do, he will have this Mineral:
She convocats at last her Arrierban,
Of evil Spirits, to confound this man:
These of a little bulk, but humane shape
Appear i'th' Vein, and sometimes seem to ape
The Miners labour, and indeed affright
The stoutest of those Diggers, with their sight,
At the first View, but seeing here, and there,
Those scattered Dæmons only sent to scar
His labour, he's at length familiar
VVith those poor harmlesse Devils, and nothing dreads
Those flying parties, but for all proceeds,
Upon his work, as if he did despise
The Earth, with this her last, and stale device.
For now he's Lord of his long look'd for Vein,
And his possession firmly will maintain,
'Gainst all her strength, and art, he's settled now
In that fair Province, which with much adoe,
And vast expence, has fairly purchased,
By length of time.—
And now the conquer'd, when she doth perceive,
All's lost, to save her life, becomes his slave:
At his command, she opens every where
Most patiently, and doth her Veins prepare
For th'Minors Launce, where e're he means to strick,
Tam'd by his Art, and of resistance sick.
Thus master of his wish, he first cuts out
The slender canals, through the Rocks about
The Mine, where he doth work, which may convey
The subterraneous waters quite away;
VVhich else would spoil his labour, and in these,
Sometimes his Ores too, he doth wash with ease,
VVhilst all Earths Treasure, every hour he sees.
That done, and free from VVater, he goes on,
And from the Chinks of every Rock, and Stone,
VVhich seems to arch the Mine, with Iron Pinch,
He scrambles out his Ore.
Or if upon the sides of Rocks, the Veins
Of Mettals lye, with Hammer he takes pains
To beat it off, at last if none of these
Can bring it out, he doth his business,
By strength of Fire, and so by heat unlocks
These Treasures which ly hid in clifts of Rocks.
At length when he has found this precious Ore,
Before he doth proceed to work it more,
He of its finesse, and its purity,
Makes tryal in a little quantity,
When by excoction, finding it doth hold
With the true Standart, whether th'Ore be Gold,
Or it be Silver, Copper, Tinn, or Lead,
Then in his work, with joy he doth proceed.
First his rude Ore, as drawen out of the Vein,
Before the name of Mettal it obtain,
He in a close, and solid Mortar throws.
Which (quickly broken, by redoubled blows,
From Iron Pestles, which by Water-mills
Made turn by Canals from the Neighbouring Hills,
Are mov'd, to serve the purpose,) he takes out,
Then in some Pool, that's digg'd out there about,
For that same end, he carefully doth wash't,
Sifts it when dry, then pounds it, and at last,
He puts this Earth, now become fusible,
Within the belly of a Crucible,
Which in the Furnace, almost vitrifi'd,
Appears excandent upon every side,
Where quickly it dissolves, and Liquifyes,
Then in large Iron Spoons;—
He takes his Mettal out, and in a Mould,
He pours it, then his silver and his Gold
In little Barrs, and Ingots, soon are cast,
In Plates his Copper, Lead in Pigs at last,
All weigh'd, and stamp'd, entred, and registrate,
In Books, by these he reckons his Estate.
Then next, because he doth perceive one Vein,
Two different Mettals often do contain:
(For naturally with all Silver Ore,
And Copper, Grains of Gold, some lesse, some more,
Are alwayes mix'd, with Silver too some Lead,
And Iron with Copper i'th' same Vein do breed:
In Lead, and Iron, some Silver too is found,
As from the Veins he draws them under ground)
He quickly finds a way to separate,
The mixed Mettals, at an easie rate.
By Aqua Fortis Gold from Silver Ore,
To which i'th' Vein, 'twas marryed before,
Is soon divorc'd; and other Mettals are
By Allum and Nitre, separate with care.
And from the Chinks of every Rock, and Stone,
VVhich seems to arch the Mine, with Iron Pinch,
He scrambles out his Ore.
Or if upon the sides of Rocks, the Veins
Of Mettals lye, with Hammer he takes pains
To beat it off, at last if none of these
Can bring it out, he doth his business,
By strength of Fire, and so by heat unlocks
237
At length when he has found this precious Ore,
Before he doth proceed to work it more,
He of its finesse, and its purity,
Makes tryal in a little quantity,
When by excoction, finding it doth hold
With the true Standart, whether th'Ore be Gold,
Or it be Silver, Copper, Tinn, or Lead,
Then in his work, with joy he doth proceed.
First his rude Ore, as drawen out of the Vein,
Before the name of Mettal it obtain,
He in a close, and solid Mortar throws.
Which (quickly broken, by redoubled blows,
From Iron Pestles, which by Water-mills
Made turn by Canals from the Neighbouring Hills,
Are mov'd, to serve the purpose,) he takes out,
Then in some Pool, that's digg'd out there about,
For that same end, he carefully doth wash't,
Sifts it when dry, then pounds it, and at last,
He puts this Earth, now become fusible,
Within the belly of a Crucible,
Which in the Furnace, almost vitrifi'd,
Appears excandent upon every side,
Where quickly it dissolves, and Liquifyes,
Then in large Iron Spoons;—
He takes his Mettal out, and in a Mould,
He pours it, then his silver and his Gold
In little Barrs, and Ingots, soon are cast,
In Plates his Copper, Lead in Pigs at last,
All weigh'd, and stamp'd, entred, and registrate,
In Books, by these he reckons his Estate.
Then next, because he doth perceive one Vein,
Two different Mettals often do contain:
(For naturally with all Silver Ore,
And Copper, Grains of Gold, some lesse, some more,
Are alwayes mix'd, with Silver too some Lead,
And Iron with Copper i'th' same Vein do breed:
In Lead, and Iron, some Silver too is found,
As from the Veins he draws them under ground)
He quickly finds a way to separate,
The mixed Mettals, at an easie rate.
By Aqua Fortis Gold from Silver Ore,
To which i'th' Vein, 'twas marryed before,
Is soon divorc'd; and other Mettals are
By Allum and Nitre, separate with care.
But lastly, when he has all separat,
One would suppose he'd Nature imitat,
When mixing all those Mettals once again,
Some in the same proportion with the Vein,
Others in such proportions, great and small,
As for his ends are fit, which he doth call
Temperatures out of these mixtures too,
(He's so acquainted with all Mettals now)
He frames new Mettals: as when by his art,
To four of Gold, of silver a fifth part
He adds, he quickly a new Mettal frames,
Out of that Masse, which he Electrum names:
With many others, such as those we call
Bell-mettal, Soldure, Pot-mettal; and all,
That are not Mettals i'th' Original.
One would suppose he'd Nature imitat,
When mixing all those Mettals once again,
Some in the same proportion with the Vein,
Others in such proportions, great and small,
As for his ends are fit, which he doth call
Temperatures out of these mixtures too,
(He's so acquainted with all Mettals now)
He frames new Mettals: as when by his art,
238
He adds, he quickly a new Mettal frames,
Out of that Masse, which he Electrum names:
With many others, such as those we call
Bell-mettal, Soldure, Pot-mettal; and all,
That are not Mettals i'th' Original.
But what needs more, I think by what I've said,
Any impartial man I may perswade,
That God is great above what we can reach
By art, which even those Minerals do teach,
Suppose all th' Works of his Omnipotence,
Could not afford another evidence
Of his great Worth, and Glory:
Yet man may bring those hidden things to light,
Though one should think they to perpetual night
Were by his Divine Ordinance confin'd,
Yet he may bring them out, and please his mind,
As with the Search, before they can be found,
So with the enjoyment of 'em above ground.
Any impartial man I may perswade,
That God is great above what we can reach
By art, which even those Minerals do teach,
Suppose all th' Works of his Omnipotence,
Could not afford another evidence
Of his great Worth, and Glory:
Yet man may bring those hidden things to light,
Though one should think they to perpetual night
Were by his Divine Ordinance confin'd,
Yet he may bring them out, and please his mind,
As with the Search, before they can be found,
So with the enjoyment of 'em above ground.
But, O, should man employ his wit, and art
In searching after things, which for his heart
He cannot find; as if he'd run the Scent,
And trace the steps of Heavens Government,
Or study to find out the reason why,
This, or that good man, lives in misery,
Whilst sinners revel in prosperity.
Should he attempt by the same rules to know
The things above, as he doth these below,
Should he his Reason couple with his Sense,
And go a hunting after Providence,
And proudly think, when he has found it out,
From it he'll have intelligence no doubt,
Of all Gods Cabin-thoughts, and thence may know,
The reasons of his actings here below.
Should he thus use his wit, thus entertain
His mind, thus foolishly torment his brain,
In studying to find out his policy,
By which this universal Monarchy
Is govern'd, by which all Gods actings are
Amongst us, mortals, brought upon the square.
Why, this same study were not only vain,
Foolish, presumptous, full of uselesse pain,
But shrewdly sinful, and unlawful too,
For such high knowledge, God will not allow
To mortal race.—
Nor will he let them know at any rate,
What is not fit, should be communicat
To humane wit, because he wisely knows,
If we did know such hidden things, as those,
And what to each man were predestinat,
(Which must be sent upon him soon, or late)
'T would certainly cause so much pride, and fear,
As what betwixt presumption, and despair,
The world would split in two, and men should know
Too much to damn them all, if things were so.
In searching after things, which for his heart
He cannot find; as if he'd run the Scent,
And trace the steps of Heavens Government,
Or study to find out the reason why,
This, or that good man, lives in misery,
Whilst sinners revel in prosperity.
Should he attempt by the same rules to know
The things above, as he doth these below,
Should he his Reason couple with his Sense,
And go a hunting after Providence,
And proudly think, when he has found it out,
From it he'll have intelligence no doubt,
Of all Gods Cabin-thoughts, and thence may know,
The reasons of his actings here below.
Should he thus use his wit, thus entertain
His mind, thus foolishly torment his brain,
In studying to find out his policy,
By which this universal Monarchy
Is govern'd, by which all Gods actings are
Amongst us, mortals, brought upon the square.
Why, this same study were not only vain,
Foolish, presumptous, full of uselesse pain,
But shrewdly sinful, and unlawful too,
For such high knowledge, God will not allow
To mortal race.—
Nor will he let them know at any rate,
What is not fit, should be communicat
To humane wit, because he wisely knows,
If we did know such hidden things, as those,
And what to each man were predestinat,
(Which must be sent upon him soon, or late)
'T would certainly cause so much pride, and fear,
As what betwixt presumption, and despair,
The world would split in two, and men should know
239
To th'case, my friends, then why should you debate
On things above your reach! why should you state
The Question in the works of Providence,
To which, we cannot sure, without offence,
Prescribe those Rules, by which our actings here
Are rul'd, from whence it plainly doth appear
There is a Wisdome, which we cannot reach,
A Divine Knowledge, which no Art can teach,
A Wisdome to our God peculiar,
With which no Earthly Wisdome can compare.
A knowledge which to know our fond desire
On no account should foolishly aspire.
Then O where is this wisdome to be found,
This heavenly knowledge, which doth quite confound,
And with one simple dash oblit'rat all
That which we vainly understanding call.
Where is it pray! whence is it to be had!
On what Coast do we for this wisdome Trade!
This wisdome! O this wisdome! this divine
And God-like knowledge! from what secret Mine
Is it extracted! in what hidden Pore,
In Heav'ns, or Earth, doth this Seraphick Ore
Branch out its Veins! this wisdome mystical!
This Art of Arts! this supernatural
And un-born knowledge! whither shall we run
To find this wisdome! shall we with the Sun
Take Journey, and view all the World about
with searching eye, to find this wisdome out!
Or shall we, on the wings of contemplation,
Fly upward in some pious meditation,
In search of what on earth we cannot find,
And reach that thing by labour of the mind.
That hands cannot perform! a thing in vain
Our curious reason studies to attain!
A thing our Faith, which Reason doth transcend,
On this side time, can hardly comprehend.
On things above your reach! why should you state
The Question in the works of Providence,
To which, we cannot sure, without offence,
Prescribe those Rules, by which our actings here
Are rul'd, from whence it plainly doth appear
There is a Wisdome, which we cannot reach,
A Divine Knowledge, which no Art can teach,
A Wisdome to our God peculiar,
With which no Earthly Wisdome can compare.
A knowledge which to know our fond desire
On no account should foolishly aspire.
Then O where is this wisdome to be found,
This heavenly knowledge, which doth quite confound,
And with one simple dash oblit'rat all
That which we vainly understanding call.
Where is it pray! whence is it to be had!
On what Coast do we for this wisdome Trade!
This wisdome! O this wisdome! this divine
And God-like knowledge! from what secret Mine
Is it extracted! in what hidden Pore,
In Heav'ns, or Earth, doth this Seraphick Ore
Branch out its Veins! this wisdome mystical!
This Art of Arts! this supernatural
And un-born knowledge! whither shall we run
To find this wisdome! shall we with the Sun
Take Journey, and view all the World about
with searching eye, to find this wisdome out!
Or shall we, on the wings of contemplation,
Fly upward in some pious meditation,
In search of what on earth we cannot find,
And reach that thing by labour of the mind.
That hands cannot perform! a thing in vain
Our curious reason studies to attain!
A thing our Faith, which Reason doth transcend,
On this side time, can hardly comprehend.
For what it is no mortal man can know,
Or where 'tis to be found, 'tis hidden so
By him who all things fram'd: we cann't conceive
What thing it is, but only must believe,
This divine wisdome is not to be found
By Art of man: 'tis not a thing the ground,
The Seas, or Air afford: 'tis not a thing
To which we can attain by reasoning.
Or where 'tis to be found, 'tis hidden so
By him who all things fram'd: we cann't conceive
What thing it is, but only must believe,
This divine wisdome is not to be found
By Art of man: 'tis not a thing the ground,
The Seas, or Air afford: 'tis not a thing
To which we can attain by reasoning.
No, 'tis a thing, of which we neither know
Its beeing, nor its value: for although
We search, with Reasons Taper in our hand,
The darkest Creviss, both in Sea and Land,
To find it out, our toil is all in vain,
For to its knowledge we can ne're attain:
But after that, by strength of contemplation,
We think of it to learn some information,
We're forc'd at length to rest in admiration.
Its beeing, nor its value: for although
We search, with Reasons Taper in our hand,
The darkest Creviss, both in Sea and Land,
To find it out, our toil is all in vain,
For to its knowledge we can ne're attain:
But after that, by strength of contemplation,
We think of it to learn some information,
We're forc'd at length to rest in admiration.
240
In admiration! yes contentedly
We must admire, what all our industry,
Our wit, art, thinking, cannot comprehend,
A wisdome that all value doth transcend.
'Tis not in Commerce, 'tis inestimable,
'Tis not by Gold, or Silver purchasable.
We must admire, what all our industry,
Our wit, art, thinking, cannot comprehend,
A wisdome that all value doth transcend.
'Tis not in Commerce, 'tis inestimable,
'Tis not by Gold, or Silver purchasable.
No, no, this thing cannot be bought, or sold
At any rate: not Tunns of Ophir Gold,
Not Cargoes of that precious Mineral,
Not heaps of Stones, and Jewels, which by all
Are valued at the highest estimation,
Can for this knowledge make a valuation.
At any rate: not Tunns of Ophir Gold,
Not Cargoes of that precious Mineral,
Not heaps of Stones, and Jewels, which by all
Are valued at the highest estimation,
Can for this knowledge make a valuation.
Not finest Gold, nor Chrystal of the Rock,
O'th' purest hue, can make a bartring Stock
For such a rich Commodity, not all
What Merchants here inestimable call,
Can make provisions suitable to buy
Such an inestimable Commodity.
O'th' purest hue, can make a bartring Stock
For such a rich Commodity, not all
What Merchants here inestimable call,
Can make provisions suitable to buy
Such an inestimable Commodity.
Talk not of Coral, 'tis a mean Sea-weed,
Nor Pearl, which with us filly Oysters breed;
No, nor of Rubies, though their Crimson Dye
Appears most rich and glorious to the eye:
Nor of their beauty cut in Faucet tell,
For this high wisdome doth them all excell.
Nor Pearl, which with us filly Oysters breed;
No, nor of Rubies, though their Crimson Dye
Appears most rich and glorious to the eye:
Nor of their beauty cut in Faucet tell,
For this high wisdome doth them all excell.
Your Æthiopian Topaz bright and fair,
Highly esteem'd, because it is so rare,
With this in value never can compare
The finest Gold, which we poor Mortals hugg,
Compar'd with this is but a very Drugg.
Highly esteem'd, because it is so rare,
With this in value never can compare
The finest Gold, which we poor Mortals hugg,
Compar'd with this is but a very Drugg.
From whence this wisdome then! from whence, from whence
This sacred wit! this high intelligence,
Which doth all humane knowledge far exceed,
Whence doth it spring, in what place doth it breed!
This sacred wit! this high intelligence,
Which doth all humane knowledge far exceed,
Whence doth it spring, in what place doth it breed!
Where doth it breed, pray! where is't to be found,
In Fire or Air, above, or under ground!
What shall we do then, shall we yet enquire
What thing it is? or our invention tyre,
In finding out its place, which yet no eye,
Ev'n the most piercing ever did espy.
A thing which still the more we strive to know,
The less we in its knowledge forward go:
A thing, as not conspicuous to our eyes,
So far exceeding the abilities
Of our created Souls, to comprehend
A thing in search whereof there is no end.
In Fire or Air, above, or under ground!
What shall we do then, shall we yet enquire
What thing it is? or our invention tyre,
In finding out its place, which yet no eye,
Ev'n the most piercing ever did espy.
A thing which still the more we strive to know,
The less we in its knowledge forward go:
A thing, as not conspicuous to our eyes,
So far exceeding the abilities
Of our created Souls, to comprehend
A thing in search whereof there is no end.
'Tis true, we may, by long experience,
Attain some knowledge of its excellence:
We may indeed by daily observations
Upon Gods great, and various dispensations,
Attain some random-notions of the thing,
Especially, when by canvassing
Th'affairs o'th' world, and viewing carefully,
VVith serious eyes, the instability
Of humane state: we see what shines to day
Most brightly, and is gloriously gay,
To morrow is obscur'd: what now is high
Beat down annon, in lowest dust doth ly;
Thence in some measure, we may learn to know
What is this Wisdom.
For when we do observe, how Providence
'Mongst mortal things doth make no difference,
But sometimes here, and sometimes there lets fall
Blessings or Plagues, without regard at all
To this mans well improven Piety,
Or 't'others gross habitual villany;
Yes, when we see how all our art, and care,
In guarding of our Souls by daily prayer,
In thinking, speaking, doing what is good,
(Though of our claim to Heaven we are not proud)
Nay even our pure, and Dove-like innocence
Can not prevent a blow, when Providence
Thinks fit t'afflict us; and on th'other hand,
How wanton sinners do securely stand
Rooted in their Possessions; and appear
As safe from danger as they are from fear.
Then sure in some proportion, we may guess
What is this Wisdom by such acts as these.
Attain some knowledge of its excellence:
We may indeed by daily observations
Upon Gods great, and various dispensations,
Attain some random-notions of the thing,
Especially, when by canvassing
Th'affairs o'th' world, and viewing carefully,
VVith serious eyes, the instability
Of humane state: we see what shines to day
241
To morrow is obscur'd: what now is high
Beat down annon, in lowest dust doth ly;
Thence in some measure, we may learn to know
What is this Wisdom.
For when we do observe, how Providence
'Mongst mortal things doth make no difference,
But sometimes here, and sometimes there lets fall
Blessings or Plagues, without regard at all
To this mans well improven Piety,
Or 't'others gross habitual villany;
Yes, when we see how all our art, and care,
In guarding of our Souls by daily prayer,
In thinking, speaking, doing what is good,
(Though of our claim to Heaven we are not proud)
Nay even our pure, and Dove-like innocence
Can not prevent a blow, when Providence
Thinks fit t'afflict us; and on th'other hand,
How wanton sinners do securely stand
Rooted in their Possessions; and appear
As safe from danger as they are from fear.
Then sure in some proportion, we may guess
What is this Wisdom by such acts as these.
For God, with good intention, beats his own,
That he from thence may make their virtue known,
Which in the Sun-shine of Prosperity,
Even in the best of men, but soberly
Makes an appearance, like a Candles-light,
Which only shines i'th' dark or in the Night.
And for those others, who their God do hate,
And yet their Bread, in peace, and plenty eat.
Nay to our outward senses do appear
Not ordinarly to their Maker dear:
Why if wee look aright upon their case,
We'll find God only suffers such as these,
To live in plenty, 'cause he doth not care
What becomes of 'em, and doth only spare
Those slaughter-fed, Bread-eaters; for some space,
That they their little, short liv'd Happiness,
(All they desire) may peaceably possess.
But, of destruction certain, they at last,
When all their days of jollity are past
Perceive there is a Divine Wisdom too,
As well as Earthly, which they never knew
Till now, and find that by its ordinance,
Hell, and Damnation's their Inheritance.
That he from thence may make their virtue known,
Which in the Sun-shine of Prosperity,
Even in the best of men, but soberly
Makes an appearance, like a Candles-light,
Which only shines i'th' dark or in the Night.
And for those others, who their God do hate,
And yet their Bread, in peace, and plenty eat.
Nay to our outward senses do appear
Not ordinarly to their Maker dear:
Why if wee look aright upon their case,
We'll find God only suffers such as these,
To live in plenty, 'cause he doth not care
What becomes of 'em, and doth only spare
Those slaughter-fed, Bread-eaters; for some space,
That they their little, short liv'd Happiness,
(All they desire) may peaceably possess.
But, of destruction certain, they at last,
When all their days of jollity are past
Perceive there is a Divine Wisdom too,
As well as Earthly, which they never knew
Till now, and find that by its ordinance,
Hell, and Damnation's their Inheritance.
But O to our great God, to him alone
This Divine Wisdom is exactly known.
To him, to him, it is appropriat,
And no man with him can participat,
In that high Knowledge: for by that alone,
He gives directions from his lofty Throne
For th'Government o'th' World: for well he knows,
He knows exactly what we but suppose,
Or faintlie guess: although indeed we find
No little satisfaction to our mind,
When having in our recess, meditat,
By what strange means, what hidden Rules of state;
This World is govern'd, whilst by what we here
Observe in earthlie courts; these do appear
To counter-act all wise proceedings there.
When we, I say, with contemplations eyes,
Have view'd at random, what beyond the skies,
Is the procedure in the Government,
Of this vast Fabrick: and how evident
In it that Divine Wisdom doth appear,
Which is not to be learn'd or valued here,
Then finding how our curious Thoughts have reacht
Their ne plus ultra,—
From Heavens high Court we modestlie retire,
And with great pleasure do these things admire,
We cannot learn, since to our God alone
The Government o'th' world is only known.
This Divine Wisdom is exactly known.
To him, to him, it is appropriat,
And no man with him can participat,
In that high Knowledge: for by that alone,
He gives directions from his lofty Throne
For th'Government o'th' World: for well he knows,
He knows exactly what we but suppose,
242
No little satisfaction to our mind,
When having in our recess, meditat,
By what strange means, what hidden Rules of state;
This World is govern'd, whilst by what we here
Observe in earthlie courts; these do appear
To counter-act all wise proceedings there.
When we, I say, with contemplations eyes,
Have view'd at random, what beyond the skies,
Is the procedure in the Government,
Of this vast Fabrick: and how evident
In it that Divine Wisdom doth appear,
Which is not to be learn'd or valued here,
Then finding how our curious Thoughts have reacht
Their ne plus ultra,—
From Heavens high Court we modestlie retire,
And with great pleasure do these things admire,
We cannot learn, since to our God alone
The Government o'th' world is only known.
For who can manage this vast Government,
But he alone, who is Omniscient?
Who everie moment views, with searching eye,
All that lies under Heavens Canopie.
Who onlie knows, who onlie understands
How this great bodie, which his mightie hands
Have fram'd, and moulded must be governed,
Who by his wisdom has so ordered,
And all affaires dispos'd so prudentlie,
As far exceeds all Human Policie.
But he alone, who is Omniscient?
Who everie moment views, with searching eye,
All that lies under Heavens Canopie.
Who onlie knows, who onlie understands
How this great bodie, which his mightie hands
Have fram'd, and moulded must be governed,
Who by his wisdom has so ordered,
And all affaires dispos'd so prudentlie,
As far exceeds all Human Policie.
For not one puff of wind i'th' air doth blow,
Nor from the clouds do anie waters flow,
Without his special Tolerance, for when
Nor from the clouds do anie waters flow,
Without his special Tolerance, for when
By his Decree some quantitie of rain
Is on the earth let out, or when from high,
Out of his Cage swift Lightning is let flie:
Is on the earth let out, or when from high,
Out of his Cage swift Lightning is let flie:
When all these for their sudden march are clear,
Ere they dare move, before him they appear,
Where, with a serious, and perpending eye,
He takes review of them, and carefullie,
These fierce Invaders strength doth estimat,
And sees it onlie be proportionat,
For his Design, whether for Punishment,
A second Deluge lies in his intent,
Or that he means by lightning to destroy
Men, Beasts, and Fruits o'th' earth, and thence annoy
Some sinning Nations, whose lewd practices
Have call'd to Heavens for such returns as these,
That they may not be able to offend
The passive World, more than he doth intend.
From whence, my friends, 'tis plain, and evident,
That the eternal solid Government
Of all things which his mighty hands have made
Is by this Divine Wisdom managed.
Ere they dare move, before him they appear,
Where, with a serious, and perpending eye,
He takes review of them, and carefullie,
These fierce Invaders strength doth estimat,
And sees it onlie be proportionat,
For his Design, whether for Punishment,
A second Deluge lies in his intent,
Or that he means by lightning to destroy
Men, Beasts, and Fruits o'th' earth, and thence annoy
Some sinning Nations, whose lewd practices
Have call'd to Heavens for such returns as these,
That they may not be able to offend
The passive World, more than he doth intend.
From whence, my friends, 'tis plain, and evident,
That the eternal solid Government
Of all things which his mighty hands have made
Is by this Divine Wisdom managed.
243
Then to conclude, my friends, from henceforth pray
Let us forbear, let us forbear, I say,
To argue on the Rules of Providence,
For sure we cannot well, without offence,
Make enquiry in things, which certainlie
The King of Heavens, from all Eternitie,
Resolv'd should from his Creature be conceal'd
And to himself belong.—
No more debating then, but let us here
Content our selves with things that do appear
Obvious to our reason: and enquire
No further in Gods secrets, but admire
His Government o'th' world: for after all,
To know this thing we Divine Wisdom call
Is not our business; but if we would learn
To know what our Salvation doth concern.
Of all that Knowledge here's th'abreviat,
Let us fear God, all sinful courses hate,
Our Neighbours love, to each his right allow,
And in this world we have no more adoe.
This, this is all the Knowledge; this is that
We ought to study, without more debate,
For this alone, for this we should implore,
For who endeavours to know any more
Will find i'th' end he spends his time in vain,
In searching what he never can obtain,
But this by prayer may be purchased,
Whilst that to Mortals is prohibited.
Let us forbear, let us forbear, I say,
To argue on the Rules of Providence,
For sure we cannot well, without offence,
Make enquiry in things, which certainlie
The King of Heavens, from all Eternitie,
Resolv'd should from his Creature be conceal'd
And to himself belong.—
No more debating then, but let us here
Content our selves with things that do appear
Obvious to our reason: and enquire
No further in Gods secrets, but admire
His Government o'th' world: for after all,
To know this thing we Divine Wisdom call
Is not our business; but if we would learn
To know what our Salvation doth concern.
Of all that Knowledge here's th'abreviat,
Let us fear God, all sinful courses hate,
Our Neighbours love, to each his right allow,
And in this world we have no more adoe.
This, this is all the Knowledge; this is that
We ought to study, without more debate,
For this alone, for this we should implore,
For who endeavours to know any more
Will find i'th' end he spends his time in vain,
In searching what he never can obtain,
But this by prayer may be purchased,
Whilst that to Mortals is prohibited.
| The grand Tryal | |