Too long, then lay'st thy scapes on names ador'd,
Apollo, Neptune, Jupiter, or Pan,
Satyr, or Faun, or Sylvan? But these haunts
Delight not all; among the sons of men,
How many have with a smile made small ac-
Of Beauty and her lures, easily scorn'd [count
All her assaults, on worthier things intent!
Remember that Pellean conqueror,
A youth, how all the beauties of the East
He slightly view'd, and slightly overpass'd;
How he, surnam'd of Africa, dismiss'd,
In his prime youth, the fair Iberian maid.
For Solomon, he liv'd at ease, and full

Of honour, wealth, high fare, aim'd not beyond
Higher design than to enjoy his state;
Thence to the bait of women lay expos'd:
But he, whom we attempt, is wiser far
Than Solomon, of more exalted mind,
Made and set wholly on the accomplishment
Of greatest things. What woman will you find,
Though of this age the wonder and the fame,
On whom his leisure will vouchsafe an eye
Of fond desire? Or should she, confident,
As sitting queen ador'd on Beauty's throne,
Descend with all her winning charms begirt
To enamour, as the zone of Venus once
Wrought that effect on Jove, so fables tell;
How would one look from his majestic brow,
Seated as on the top of Virtue's hill,
Discountenance her despis'd, and put to rout
All her array; her female pride deject,
Or turn to reverent awe! for Beauty stands
In the admiration only of weak minds
Led captive; cease to admire, and all her plumes
Fall flat, and shrink into a trivial toy,
At every sudden slighting quite abash'd.
Therefore with manlier objects we must try
His constancy; with such as have more show
Of worth, of honour, glory, and popular praise,
Rocks, whercon greatest men have oftest wreck'd;
Or that which only seems to satisfy
Lawful desires of nature, not beyond;
And now I know he hungers, where no food
Is to be found, in the wide wilderness:
The rest commit to me; I shall let pass
No advantage, and his strength as oft assay."
He ceas'd, and heard their grant in loud ac-
claim;

Then forthwith to him takes a chosen band
Of spirits, likest to himself in guile,
To be at hand, and at his beck appear,
If cause were to unfold some active scene
Of various persons, each to know his part:
Then to the desert takes with these his flight;
Where, still from shade to shade, the Son of God
After forty days fasting had remain'd,
Now hungering first, and to himself thus said.
"Where will this end? four times ten days
I've pass'd

Wandering this woody maze, and human food
Nor tasted, nor had appetite; that fast
To virtue I impute not, or count part
Of what I suffer here; if nature need not,
Or God support nature without repast
Though needing, what praise is it to endure?
But now I feel I hunger, which declares
Nature hath need of what she asks; yet God
Can satisfy that need some other way,
Though hunger still remain: so it remain

| Without this body's wasting, I content me,
And from the sting of famine fear no harm;
Nor mind it, fed with better thoughts, that feed
Me hungering more to do my Father's will."

It was the hour of night, when thus the Son Commun'd in silent walk, then laid him down Under the hospitable covert nigh

Of trees thick interwoven; there he slept,
And dream'd, as appetite is wont to dream,
Of meats and drinks, nature's refreshment sweet:
Him thought, he by the brook of Cherith stood,
And saw the ravens with their horny beaks
Food to Elijah bringing, even and morn,
Though ravenous, taught to abstain from what
they brought:

He saw the prophet also, how he fled
Into the desert, and how there he slept
Under a juniper; then how awak'd
He found his supper on the coals prepar'd,
And by the angel was bid rise and eat,
And eat the second time after repose,
The strength whereof suffic'd him forty days:
Sometimes that with Elijah he partook,
Or as a guest with Daniel at his pulse.
Thus wore out night; and now the herald lark
Left his ground-nest, high towering to descry
The Morn's approach, and greet her with his
song:

As lightly from his grassy couch up rose
Our Saviour, and found all was but a dream;
Fasting he went to sleep, and fasting wak'd.
Up to a hill anon his steps he rear'd,
From whose high top to ken the prospect round;
If cottage were in view, sheep-cote, or herd;
But cottage, herd, or sheep-cote, none he saw ;
Only in a bottom saw a pleasant grove,
With chant of tuneful birds resounding loud:
Thither he bent his way, determin'd there
To rest at noon, and enter'd soon the shade
High-roof'd, and walks beneath, and alleys
brown,

That open'd in the midst a woody scene;
Nature's own work it seem'd (Nature taught Art)
And, to a superstitious eye, the haunt

Of wood-gods and wood-nymphs: he view'd it
When suddenly a man before him stood; [round.
Not rustic as before, but seemlier clad,
As one in city, or court, or palace bred,.
And with fair, speech these words to him ad-
dress'd.

"With granted leave officious I return,
But much more wonder that the Son of God
In this wild solitude so long should bide,
Of all things destitute; and, well I know,
Not without hunger. Others of some note,
As story tells, have trod this wilderness;
The fugitive bond-woman, with her son
Out-cast Nebaioth, yet found here relief
By a providing angel; all the race
Of Israel here had famish'd, had not God [bold,
Rain'd from Heaven manna; and that prophet
Native of Thebez, wandering here was fed
Twice by a voice inviting him to eat:
Of thee these forty days none hath regard,
Forty and more deserted here indeed."

To whom thus Jesus." What conclud'st thou hence?

They all had need; I, as thou seest, have none."

"How hast thou hunger then?" Satar replied,

The wise man's cumbrance, if not snare; more
To slacken Virtue, and abate her edge, [apt
Than prompt her to do aught may merit praise.
What if with like aversion I reject
Riches and realms? yet not for that a crown,
Golden in show, is but a wreath of thorns,
Brings dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless
nights,

To him who wears the regal diadem,

When on his shoulders each man's burden lies;
For therein stands the office of a king,
His honour, virtue, merit, and chief praise,
That for the public all this weight he bears.
Yet he, who reigns within himself, and rules
Passions, desires, and fears, is more a king ;
Which every wise and virtuous man attains;
And who attains not, ill aspires to rule
Cities of men, or headstrong multitudes,
Subject himself to anarchy within,
Or lawless passions in him, which he serves.
But to guide nations in the way of truth
By saving doctrine, and from errour lead
To know, and knowing worship God aright,
Is yet more kingly; this attracts the soul,
Governs the inner man, the nobler part;
That other o'er the body only reigns,
And oft by force, which, to a generous mind,
So reigning, can be no sincere delight.
Besides, to give a kingdom hath been thought
Greater and nobler done, and to lay down
Far more magnanimous, than to assume.
Riches are needless then, both for themselves,
And for thy reason why they should be sought,
To gain a sceptre, oftest better miss'd."

PARADISE REGAINED.

BOOK III.

THE ARGUMENT.

Satan, in a speech of much flattering commendation, endeavours to awaken in Jesus a passion for glory, by particularising various instances of conquests achieved, and great actions performed, by persons at an early period of life. Our Lord replies, by showing the vanity of worldly fame, and the improper means by which it is generally attained; and contrasts with it the true glory of religious patience and virtuous wisdom, as exemplified in the character of Job. Satan justifies the love of glory from the example of God himself, who requires it from all his creatures. Jesus detects the fallacy of this argument, by showing that, as goodness is the true ground on which glory is due to the great Creator of all things, sinful man can have no right whatever to it.-Satan then urges our Lord respecting his claim to the throne of David; he tells him that the kingdom of Judea, being at that time a province of Rome, cannot be got possession of without much personal exertion on his part, and presses him to lose no time in beginning to reign. Jesus refers hit to the time allotted for this, as for all other things; and, after

intimating somewhat respecting his own pres vious sufferings, asks Satan, why he should be so solicitous for the exaltation of one, whose rising was destined to be his fall. Satan replies, that his own desperate state, by excluding all hope, leaves little room for fear; and that, as his own punishment was equally doomed, he is not interested in preventing the reign of one, from whose apparent benevolence he might rather hope for some interference in his favour.-Satan still pursues his former incitements; and, supposing that the seeming reluctance of Jesus to be thus advanced might arise from his being unacquainted with the world and its glories, conveys him to the summit of a high mountain, and from thence shows him most of the kingdoms of Asia, particularly pointing out to his notice some extraordinary military preparations of the Parthians to resist the incursions of the Scythians. He then informs our Lord, that he showed him this purposely that he might see how necessary military exertions are to retain the possession of kingdoms, as well as to subdue them at first, and advises him to consider how impossible it was to maintain Judea against two such powerful neighbours as the Romans and Parthians, and how necessary it would be to form an alliance with one or other of them. At the same time he recommends, and engages to secure to him, that of the Parthians; and tells him that by this means his power will be defended from any thing that Rome or Cæsar might attempt. against it, and that he will be able to extend his glory wide, and especially to accomplish, what was particularly necessary to make the throne of Judea really the throne of David, the deliverance and restoration of the ten tribes, still in a state of captivity. Jesus, having briefly noticed the vanity of military efforts and the weakness of the arm of flesh, says, that when the time comes for his ascending his allotted throne he shall not be slack: he remarks on Satan's extraordinary zeal for the deliverance of the Israelites, to whom he had always showed himself an enemy, and declares their servitude to be the consequence of their idolatry; but adds, that at a future time it may perhaps please God to recall them, and restore them to their liberty and native land.

So spake the Son of God; and Satan stood
A while, as mute, confounded what to say,
What to reply, confuted, and convinc'd
Of his weak arguing and fallacious drift;
At length, collecting all his serpent wiles,
With soothing words renew'd, him thus accosts.

"I see thou know'st what is of use to know,
What best to say canst say, to do canst do;
Thy actions to thy words accord, thy words
To thy large heart give utterance due, thy heart
Contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape.
Should kings and nations from thy mouth consult,
Thy counsel would be as the oracle
Urim and Thummim, those oraculous gems
On Aaron's breast; or tongue of seers old,
Infallible: or wert thou sought to deeds

That might require the array of war, thy skill
Of conduct would be such, that all the world
Could not sustain thy prowess, or subsist
In battle, though against thy few in arms.
These God-like virtues wherefore dost thou hide,
Affecting private life, or more obscure
In savage wilderness? wherefore deprive
All Earth her wonder at thy acts, thyself
The fame and glory, glory the reward
That sole excites to high attempts, the flame
Of most erected spirits, most temper'd pure
Ethereal, who all pleasures else despise,
All treasures and all gain esteem as dross,
And dignities and powers all but the highest?
Thy years are ripe, and over-ripe; the son
Of Macedonian Philip had ere these
Won Asia, and the throne of Cyrus held

At his dispose; young Scipio had brought down
The Carthaginian pride; young Pompey quell'd
The Pontic king, and in triumph had rode.
Yet years, and to ripe years judgment mature,
Quench not the thirst of glory, but augment.
Great Julius, whom now all the world admires,
The more he grew in years, the more inflain'd
With glory, wept that he had liv'd so long
Inglorious but thou yet art not too late."

To whom our Saviour calinly thus replied.
"Thou neither dost persuade me to seek wealth
For empire's sake, nor empire to affect
For glory's sake, by all thy argument.
For what is glory but the blaze of fame,
The people's praise, if always praise unmix'd?
And what the people but a herd confus'd,
A miscellaneous rabble, who extol

Things vulgar, and, well weigh'd, scarce worth the praise?

[what, They praise, and they admire, they know not And know not whom, but as one leads the other; And what delight to be by such extoll'd, To live upon their tongues, and be their talk, Of whom to be disprais'd were no small praise? His lot who dares be singularly good. The intelligent among them and the wise Are few, and glory scarce of few is rais'd. This is true glory and renown, when God, Looking on the Earth, with approbation marks The just man, and divulges him through Heaven To all his angels, who with true applause Recount his praises: thus he did to Job, When to extend his fame through Heaven and Earth,

As thou to thy reproach may'st well remember, He ask'd thee, Hast thou seen my servant

Job?' Famous he was in Heaven, on Earth less known; Where glory is false glory, attributed To things not glorious, men not worthy of fame. They err, who count it glorious to subdue By conquest far and wide, to over-run Large countries, and in field great battles win, Great cities by assault: what do these worthies, But rob and spoil, burn, slaughter, and enslave Peaceable nations, neighbouring, or remote,, Made captive, yet deserving freedom more Then those their conquerors, who leave behind Nothing but ruin wheresoe'er they rove, And all the flourishing works of peace destroy; Then swell with pride, and must be titled Gods, Great Benefactors of mankind, Deliverers,

Worshipt with temple, priest, and sacrifice?
One is the son of Jove, of Mars the other;
Till conqueror Death discover them scarce men,
Rolling in brutish vices, and deform❜d,
Violent or shameful death their due reward.
But if there be in glory aught of good,
It may by means far different be attain'd,
Without ambition, war, or violence;
By deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent,
By patience, temperance: I mention still
Him, whom thy wrongs, with saintly patience
borne,

Made famous in a land and times obscure;
Who names not now with honour patient Job?
Poor Socrates, (who next more memorable ?)
By what he taught, and suffer'd for so doing,
For truth's sake suffering death, unjust, lives

am."

Equal in fame to proudest conquerors. Yet if for fame and glory aught be done, Aught suffer'd; if young African for fame His wasted country freed from Punic rage; The deed becomes unprais'd, the man at least, And loses, though but verbal, his reward. Shall I seek glory then, as vain men seek, Oft not deserv'd? I seek not mine, but his Who sent me; and thereby witness whence I {plied. To whom the tempter murmuring thus re"Think not so slight of glory; therein least Resembling thy great Father: he seeks glory, And for his glory all things made, all things Orders and governs; nor content in Heaven By all his angels glorified, requires Glory from men, from all men, good or bad, Wise or unwise, no difference, no exemption; Above all sacrifice, or hallow'd gift, Glory he requires, and glory he receives, Promiscuous from all nations, Jew or Greek, Or barbarous, nor exception hath declar'd; From us, his foes pronounc'd, glory he exacts." To whom our Saviour fervently replied. "And reason; since his word all things produc'd Though chiefly not for glory as prime end, But to show forth his goodness, and impart His good communicable to every soul Freely; of whom what could he less expect Than glory and benediction, that is, thanks, The slightest, easiest, readiest recompense From them who could return him nothing else, And, not returning that, would likeliest render Contempt instead, dishonour, obloquy? Hard recompense, unsuitable return For so much good, so much beneficence! But why should man seek glory, who of his own Hath nothing, and to whom nothing belongs, But condemnation, ignominy, and shame? Who for so many benefits receiv'd, Turn'd recreant to God, ingrate and false, And so of all true good himself despoil'd; Yet, sacrilegious, to himself would take That which to God alone of right belongs: Yet so much bounty is in God, such grace, That who advance his glory, not their own, Them he himself to glory will advance."

So spake the Son of God; and here again Satan had not to answer, but stood struck With guilt of his own sin; for he himself, Insatiable of glory, had lost all ;

Yet of another plea bethought him soon.
"Of glory, as thou wilt," said he, “so deem;
Worth or not worth the seeking, let it pass.
But to a kingdom thou art born, ordain'd
To sit upon thy father David's throne,
By mother's side thy father; though thy right
Be now in powerful hands, that will not part
Easily from possession won with arms:
Judæa now and all the Promis'd Land,
Reduc'd a province under Roman yoke,
Obeys Tiberius; nor is always rul'd

With temperate sway; oft have they violated
The temple, oft the law, with foul affronts,
Abominations rather, as did once
Antiochus and think'st thou to regain
Thy right, by sitting still, or thus retiring?
So did not Maccabeus: he indeed
Retir'd unto the desert, but with arms;
And o'er a mighty king so oft prevail'd,
That by strong hand his family obtain❜d,
Though priests, the erown, and David's throne
usurp'd,

With Modin and her suburbs once content.

If kingdom move thee not, let move thee zeal
And duty; and zeal and duty are not slow,
But on occasion's forelock watchful wait:
They themselves rather are occasion best;
Zeal of thy father's house, duty to free
Thy country from ber heathen servitude.
So shalt thou bese fulfil, best verify
The prophets old, who sung thy endless reign;
The happier reign, the sooner it begins :
Reign then; what canst thou better do
while?"

the

To whom our Saviour answer thus return'd. "All things are best fulfill'd in their due time; And time there is for all things, Truth hath said. If of my reign prophetic writ hath told, That it shall never end, so, when begin, The Father in his purpose hath decreed ; He in whose hand all times and seasons roll. What if he hath decreed that I shall first Be tried in humble state, and things adverse, By tribulations, injuries, insults, Cntempts, and scorns, and snares, and violence, Suffering, abstaining, quietly expecting, Without distrust or doubt, that he may know What I can suffer, how obey? Who best Can suffer, best can do; best reign, who first Well hath obey'd; just trial, ere I merit My exaltation without change or end. But what concerns it thee, when I begin My everlasting kingdom? Why art thou Solicitous? What moves thy inquisition? Know'st thou not that my rising is thy fall, And my promotion will be thy destruction?"

To whom the tempter, inly rack'd, replied. "Let that come when it comes; all hope is lost Of my reception into grace: what worse? For where no hope is left, is left no fear: If there be worse, the expectation more Of worse torments me than the feeling can. I would be at the worst: worst is my port, My harbour, and my ultimate repose; The end I would attain, my final good. My errour was my errour, and my crime My crime; whatever, for itself condemn'd; And will alike be punish'd, whether thou Reign, or reign not; though to that gentle brow

Willingly could I fly, and nope thy reign,
From that placid aspéct and meek regard,
Rather than aggravate my evil state,
Would stand between me and thy Father's ire,
(Whose ire I dread more than the fire of Hell,)
A shelter, and a kind of shading cool
Interposition, as a summer's cloud.

If I then to the worst that can be haste,
Why move thy feet so slow to what is best,
Happiest, both to thyself and all the world,
That thou, who worthiest art, should'st be their
king?

Perhaps thou linger'st, in deep thoughts detain'd
Of the enterprise so hazardous and high;
No wonder; for, though in thee be united
What of perfection can in man be found,
Or human nature can receive, consider,
Thy life hath yet been private, most part spent
At home, scarce view'd the Galilean towns,
And once a year Jerusalem, few days' [observe?
Short sojourn; and what thence could'st thou
The world thou hadst not seen, much less her
glory,

Empires, and monarchs, and their radiant courts,
Best school of best experience, quickest insight
In all things that to greatest actions lead.
The wisest, unexperienc'd, will be ever
Timorous and loth; with novice modesty,
(As he who, seeking asses, found a kingdom,)
Irresolute, unhardy, unadventurous:

But I will bring thee where thou soon' shalt quit
Those rudiments, and see before thine eyes
The monarchies of the Earth, their pomp and
Sufficient introduction to inform

[state;

Thee, of thyself so apt, in regal arts,
And regal mysteries; that thou may'st know
How their best opposition to withstand, "

With that, (such power was given him then,) he took

The Son of God up to a mountain high.
It was a mountain at whose verdant feet
A spacious plain, outstretch'd in circuit wide,
Lay pleasant; from his side two rivers flow'd,
The one winding, the other straight, and left

between

Fair champaign wita less rivers interven❜d,
Then meeting join'd their tribute to the sea:
Fertile of corn the glebe, of oil, and wine;
With herds the pastures throng'd, with flocks
the hills;
[seem
Huge cities and high-tower'd, that well might
The seats of mightiest monarchs; and so large
The prospect was, that here and there was

room

For barren desert, fountainless and dry.
To this high mountain top the tempter brought
Our Saviour, and new train of words began.

"Well have we speeded, and o'er hill and

dale,

Forest and field and flood, temples and towers,
Cut shorter many a league; here thou behold'st
Assyria, and her empire's ancient bounds,
Araxes and the Caspian lake; thence on
As far as Indus east, Euphrates west,
And oft beyond: to south the Persian bay,
And, inaccessible, the Arabian drought:
Here Nineveh, of length within her wall
Several days journey, built by Ninus old,
Of that first golden monarchy the seat,