Cities of men, or head-strong multitudes.
Subject himself to Anarchy within,

Or lawless Paffions in him which he ferves.
But to guide Nations in the way of truth
By faving Doctrine, and from error 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 gen'rous mind
So reigning can be no fincere delight.
Besides to give a Kingdom hath been thought
Greater and nobler done, and to lay down
Far more magnanimous, than to affume.
Riches are needless then, both for themselves,
And for thy reason why they should be fought,
To gain a Scepter, ofteft better miss'd

The End of the Second Book.

Para

Paradife Regain'd.

BOOK III

So fpake the Son of God, and Satan flood

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 foothing words renew'd, him thus accosts.
I fee thou know'ft what is of use to know,
What best to say canst say, to do canft 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 confult,

Thy

Thy Counsel would be as the Oracle
Urim and Thummim, thofe oraculous gems
On Aaron's breast: or tongue of Seers old
Infallible; or wert thou fought to deeds
That might require th'array of war, thy skill
Of conduct would be fuch, that all the world
Could not fuftain thy Prowess, or subsist

In battel, though against thy few in arms.

These God-like Virtues wherefore doft thou hide?
Affecting private life, or more obfcure

In favage Wilderness, wherefore deprive
All Earth her wonder at thy acts, thy felf
The fame and glory, glory the reward
That fole excites to high attempts, the flame
Of most erected Spirits, most temper'd pure
Etherial, who all pleasures elfe despise,
All treasures and all gain esteem as drofs,
And dignities and pow'rs all but the highest?
Thy years are ripe, and over-ripe, the son
Of Macedonian Philip had e'er these
Won Afia and the Throne of Cyrus held
At his dispose, young Scipio had brought down
The Carthaginian pride, young Pompey quell'd'

The

The Pontic King, and in triumph had rode.
Yet years, and to ripe years judgment mature,
Quench not the thirft of glory, but augment.
Great Julius, whom now all the world admires,
The more he grew in years, the more inflam'd
With glory, wept that he had liv'd so long
Inglorious: But thou yet art not too late.

To whom our Saviour calmly thus reply'd.
Thou neither dost persuade me to seek wealth
For Empire's fake, nor Empire to affect
For glory's fake by all thy argument.
For what is glory but the blaze of fame,
The peoples praise, if always praise unmixt?
And what the people but a herd confus'd,

[praifes

A miscellaneous rabble, who extol
Things vulgar, and well weigh'd, fcarce worth the
They praise and they admire they know not what;
And know not whom, but as one leads the other;
And what delight to be by fuch extoll❜d,
To live upon their tongues and be their talk,
Of whom to be defpis'd were no small praise?
His lot who dares be fingularly good.

Th'intelligent among them and the wise

Arc

Are few, and glory fcarce of few is rais'd.
This is true glory and renown, when God
Looking on th' Earth, with approbation marks
The just man, and divulges him through Heav'n
To all his Angels, who with true applause
Recount his praises, thus he did to Job,
When to extend his fame, through Heav'n and Earth,
As thou to thy reproach may'st well remember,
He ask'd thee, haft thou seen my fervant Job?
Famous he was in Heav'n, on Earth lefs known;
Where glory is false glory, attributed

To things not glorious, men not worthy of fame.
They err who count it glorious to fubdue

By Conqueft far and wide, to over-run

Large Countries, and in field great Battels win, Great Cities by affault: what do thefe Worthies, But rob and spoil, burn, flaughter, and enslave Peaceable Nations, neighbouring, or remote,

Made Captive, yet deferving freedom more

Than those their Conquerors, who leave behind Nothing but ruin wherefoe'er they rove,

And all the flourishing works of peace destroy, Then fwell with pride, and must be titled Gods,