Then fwell with Pride, and must be titled Gods,
Great Benefactors of mankind, Deliverers,
Worship'd with Temple, Prieft and Sacrifice;
One is the Son of Jove, of Mars the other,
Till Conqu'ror Death difcover them fcarce men; 85
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 ftill
Him whom thy wrongs with Saintly patience born, Made famous in a land and times obfcure;
Who names not now with honour patient Job? 95 Poor Socrates (who next more memorable?)
By what he taught and fuffer'd for so doing,
For truth's fake fuffering death unjust, lives now
Equal in fame to proudeft Conquerors.
Yet if for fame and glory aught be done,
Aught fuffer'd; if young African for fame
His wafted Country freed from Punic rage,
The deed becomes unprais'd, the man at leaft,
And lofes, though but verbal, his reward.
Shall I feek glory then, as vain Men seek
Oft not deferv'd? I feek not mine, but his
Who fent me, and thereby witness whence I am.
To whom the Tempter murm'ring thus reply'd:
Think not fo flight of glory, therein leaft
Refembling thy great Father: he feeks glory, 110
And for his glory all things made, all things
Orders and governs, not content in Heav'n
By all his Angels glorify'd, requires
Glory from men, from all men, good or bad,
Wife or unwife, no difference, no exemption; 115
Above all Sacrifice, or hallow'd gift,
Glory he requires, and glory he receives
Promifcuous 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 reply'd : And reafon, fince his word all things produc'd, Though chiefly not for glory as prime end, But to fhew forth his goodness, and impart His good communicable t' ev'ry foul Freely; of whom what could he less expect Than glory and benediction, that is, thanks, The slightest, easiest, readiest recompence From them who could return him nothing else, And not returning that would likeliest render 130 Contempt instead, dishonour, obloquy?
Hard recompence, unfutable return
For fo much good, so much beneficence.
But why should man seek glory? who of his own
Hath nothing, and to whom nothing belongs 135
But condemnation, ignominy, and shame?
Who for fo many benefits receiv'd,
Turn'd recreant to God, ingrate and false,
And fo of all true good himself despoil'd;
Yet, facrilegious, to himself would take
That which to God alone of right belongs :
Yet fo much bounty is in God, fuch grace,
That who advance his glory, not their own,
Them he himself to glory will advance.
So fpake the Son of God: and here again
Satan had not to answer, but ftood ftruck
With guilt of his own fin; for he himself
Infatiable of glory had lost all:
Yet of another Plea bethought him foon.
Of glory, as thou wilt, faid he, fo deem, Worth or not worth the seeking, let it pass : But to a Kingdom thou art born, ordain'd To fit upon thy Father David's Throne; By Mother's fide thy Father; though thy right Be now in pow'rful hands, that will not part 155 Eafily from poffeffion won with arms. Judea now and all the promis'd land, Reduc'd a Province under Roman yoke, Obeys Tiberius; nor is always rul'd
With temp'rate fway; oft have they violated 160
The Temple, oft the Law with foul affronts,
Abominations rather, as did once
Antiochus: and think'st thou to regain
Thy right by fitting ftill, or thus retiring?
So did not Machabæus: he indeed
Retir'd unto the Defart, but with arms;
And o'er a mighty King so oft prevail'd,
That by ftrong hand his Family obtain'd,
Tho' Priefts, the Crown, and David's Throne ufurp'd,
With Modin and her fuburbs once content.
If Kingdom move thee not, let move thee Zeal
And Duty; Zeal and Duty are not flow,
But on Occafion's forelock watchful wait:
They themselves rather are occafion beft;
Zeal of thy Father's houfe, Duty to free
Thy Country from her Heathen fervitude;
So fhalt thou beft fulfil, beft verifie
The Prophets old, who fung thy endless reign,
The happier reign the fooner it begins :
Reign then; what canft thou better do the while?
To whom our Saviour answer thus return'd.
All things are beft 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, fo when begin
The Father in his Purpose hath decreed,
He in whose hand all times and feafons roll.
What if he hath decreed that I fhall firft
Be try'd in humble state, and things adverse,
By tribulations, injuries, infults,
Contempts, and fcorns, and fnares, and violence,
Suffering, abftaining, quietly expecting,
Without diftruft or doubt, that he may know
What I can fuffer, how obey? Who best
Can fuffer, beft can do; best reign, who firft 195
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 inquifition?
Know'st thou not that my rifing is thy fall,
And my promotion will be thy destruction ?
To whom the Tempter inly rack'd reply'd:
Let that come when it comes; all hope is loft
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 worft; worit is my Port,
My harbour and my ultimate repofe,
The end I would attain, my final good.
My error was my error, and my crime
My crime: whatever, for it self condemn'd,
And will alike be punish'd; whether thou
Reign or reign not; though to that gentle brow
Willingly I could fly, and hope thy reign,
From that placid afpect and meek regard,
Rather than aggravate my evil state,
Would ftand between me and thy Father's ire,
(Whofe ire I dread more than the Fire of Hell) zzo
A shelter, and a kind of fhading cool
Interpofition, as a fummer's cloud.
If I then to the worst that can be hafte,
Why move thy feet fo flow to what is best,
Happiest both to thyfelf and all the world, 225
That thou who worthieft art should't be their King?
Perhaps thou linger'ft, in deep thoughts detain'd
Of th' enterprize fo hazardous and high:
No wonder; for though in thee be united
What of perfection can in man be found,
Or human nature can receive, confider,
Thy life hath yet been private, most part spent
At home, scarce view'd the Galilean Towns,
And once a-year Jerufalem, few days
Short fojourn; and what thence could't thou obferve?
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