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The houses to their tops with black were spread, | The warlike wakes continued all the night,
And even the pavements were with mourning hid. And fun'ral games were play'd at new returning
The right fide of the pall old Egeus kept,
light.
And on the left the royal Thefeus wept;
Each bore a golden bowl of work divine,

Who naked wrestled best, befmear'd with oil, Or who with gauntlets gave or took the foil,

With honey fill'd, and milk, and mix'd with I will not tell you, nor would you attend;

ruddy wine.

Then Palamon, the kinfman of the flain,
And after him appear'd th' illuftrious train.
To grace the pomp, came Emily the bright,
With cover'd fire, the fun'ral pile to light.
With high devotion was the fervice made,
And all the rites of Pagan honour paid:
So lofty was the pile, a Parthian bow,
With vigour drawn, muft fend the fhaft below.
The bottom was full twenty fathom broad,
With crackling ftraw beneath in due proportion
ftrew'd.

The fabric fcem'd a wood of rifing green,
With fulphur and bitumen cast between,
To feed the flames: the trees were unctuous fir,
And mountain afh, the mother of the spear;

The beech, the fwimming alder, and the plane,
Hard box, and linden of a fofter grain,
And laurels, which the Gods for conqu'ring

chiefs ordain.

}

How they were rank'd fhall reft untold by me,
With nameless nymphs that liv'd in ev'ry tree :
Nor how the dryads, or the woodland train,
Ditherited, ran howling o'er the plain:
Nor how the birds to foreign feats repair'd,
Or beafts, that bolted out, and faw the foreft bar'd:
Nor how the ground, now clear'd, with ghaftly
fright,

Beheld the fudden fun, a stranger to the light.
The ftraw, as firft I faid, was laid below:
Of chips and fere-wood was the fecond row;
The third of greens, and timber newly fell'd;
The fourth high ftage the fragrant odours held,
And pearls, and precious ftones, and rich array;
In midft of which, embalm'd, the body lay.
The service fung, the maid with mourning eyes
The ftubble fir'd; the finould'ring dames arife:
This office done, the funk upon the ground;
But what the spoke, recover'd from her fwoon,
I want the wit in moving words to drefs;
But by themselves the tender fex may guess.
While the devouring fire was burning faft,
Rich jewels in the flame the wealthy caft;
And fome their fhields, and fome their lances
threw,

And gave their warrior's ghost a warrior's due.
Full bowls of wine, of honey, milk, and blood,
Were pour'd upon the pile of burning wood,
And hiffing flames receive, and, hungry, lick
the food.

Then thrice the mounted fquadrons ride around The fire, and Arcite's name they thrice refound; Hail, and farewel, they fhouted thrice amain; Thrice facing to the left, and thrice they turn'd again :

Still as they turn'd, they beat their clatt'ring fhields; The women mix their clics; and clamour fills the fields.

But briefly hate to my long ftory's end.

I pafs the reft; the year was fully mourn'd,
And Palamon long fince to Thebes return'd:
When, by the Grecians general consent,
At Athens Thefeus held his parliament:
Among the laws that pafs'd, it was decreed,
That conquer'd Thebes from bondage should be
freed;

Referving homage to th' Athenian throne,
To which the fov'reign fummon'd Palamon.
Unknowing of the caufe, he took his way,
Mournful in mind, and still in black array.

The monarch mounts the throne, and, plac'd
on high,
Commands into the court the beauteous Emily:
So call'd, fhe came; the fenate rose, and paid
Becoming rev'rence to the royal maid.

And first foft whispers through th` assembly went: With filent wonder then they watch'd th' event: All hufh'd, the king arofe with awful grace: Deep thought was in his breaft, and counsel in

his face.

At length he figh'd; and, having firft prepar'd Th' attentive audience, thus his will declar'd:

The Cause and fpring of motion, from above, Hung down on earth the golden chain of love: Great was th' effect, and high was his intent, When peace among the jarring feeds he fent. Fire, flood, and earth, and air, by this were bound, And Love, the common link, the new creation crown'd.

The chain ftill holds, for, though the forms decay,
Eternal matter never wears away:

The fame firft Mover certain bounds has plac'd,
How long those perishable forms fhall laft:
Nor can they laft beyond the time affign'd
By that all-fecing and all-making mind:
Shorten their hours they may; for will is free;
But never pass th' appointed deftiny.

So men opprefs'd, when weary of their breath,
Throw off the burden, and fuborn their death.
Then, fince thofe forms begin, and have their end,
On fome unalter'd caufe they fure depend:
Parts of the whole are we; but God the whole;
Who gives us life and animating foul:
For nature cannot from a part derive
That being, which the whole can only give:
He perfect, ftable; but imperfect we,
Subject to change, and diff'rent in degree;
Plants, beafts, and man; and, as our organs are,
We more or lefs of his perfection fhare.
But by a long defcent th' ethereal fire
Corrupts; and forms, the mortal part, expire:
As he withdraws his virtue, fo they pafs;
And the fame matter makes another mass.
This law th' Omnifcient Pow'r was pleas'd to give,
That ev'ry kind fhould by fucceffion live:
That individuals die his will ordains;
The propagated fpecies ftill remains.

The

The monarch oak, the patriarch of the trees,
Shoots ifing up, and spreads by flow degrees;
Three centuries he grows, and three he stays,
Supreme in ftate, and in three more decays;
So wears the paving pebble in the street,
And towns and tow'rs their fatal periods meet:
So rivers, rapid once, now naked lie,
Forfaken of their fprings, and leave their channels
So man, at first a drop, dilates with heat, [dry.
Then, form'd, the little heart begins to beat;
Secret he feeds unknowing in the cell;
At length, for hatching ripe, he breaks the fhell,
And struggles into breath, and cries for aid;
Then, helpless, in his mother's lap is laid.
He creeps, he walks, and, issuing into man,
Grudges their life from whence his own began:
Reckless of laws, affects to rule alone,
Anxious to reign, and reftlefs on the throne:
First vegetive, then feels, and reasons laft;
Rich of three fouls, and lives all three to waste.
Some thus; but thousands more in flow'r of age:
For few arrive to run the latter stage.
Sunk in the first, in battle fome are flain,
And others whelm'd beneath the ftormy main.
What makes all this, but Jupiter the king,
At whofe command we perifh and we spring?
Then 'tis our beft, fince thus ordain'd to die,
To make a virtue of neceflity.

}

Take what he gives, fince to rebel is vain;
The bad grows better, which we well fuftain;
And could we chufe the time, and chufe aright,
'Tis beft to die, our honour at the height.
When we have done our ancestors no fhame,
But ferv'd our friends, and well fecur'd our fame,
Then fhould we with our happy life to close,
And leave no more for fortune to difpofe:
So fhould we make our death a glad relief
From future shame, from fickness, and from grief:
Enjoying while we live the prefent hour,
And dying in our excellence and flow'r.
Then round our death-bed ev'ry friend should run,
And joyous of our conqueft early won:
While the malicious world with envious tears
Should grudge our happy end, and with it theirs.
Since then our Arcite is with honour dead,
Why should we mourn, that he fo foon is freed,
Or call untimely what the Gods decreed ?
With grief as just a friend may be deplor'd,
From a foul prifon to free air reftor'd.
Ought he to thank his kinfmen or his wife,
Could tears recal him into wretched life?
Their forrow hurts themselves; on him is loft;
And, worse than both, offends his happy ghoft.
What then remains, but, after past annoy,
To take the good viciffitude of joy?
To thank the gracious Gods for what they give,
Poffefs our fouls, and, while we live, to live?
Ordain we then two forrows to combine,
And in one point th' extremes of grief to join;
That thence refulting joy may be renew'd,
As jarring notes in harmony conclude.
Then I propofe that Palamon fhall be
In marriage join'd with beauteous Emily;
For which already I have gain'd th' affent
Of my free people in full parlament.

| Long love to her has borne the faithful knight,
And well deferv'd, had fortune done him right:
'Tis time to mend her fault; fince Emily
By Arcite's death from former vows is free:
If you, fair fifter, ratify th'accord,
And take him for your husband and your lord,
"Tis no difhonour to confer your grace
On one defcended from a royal race:
And were he lefs, yet years of fervice past
From grateful fouls exact reward at laft.
Pity is Heaven's and yours; nor can the find
A throne fo foft as in a woman's mind.
He faid; the blufh'd; and, as o'eraw'd by might,
Seem'd to give Thefeus what the gave the knight.
Then, turning to the Theban, thus he said;
Small arguments are needful to perfuade
Your temper to comply with my command;
And, fpeaking thus, he gave Emilia's hand.
Smil'd Venus, to behold her own true knight
Obtain the conqueft, tho' he loft the fight;
And bless'd with nuptial blifs the fweet labo-
rious night.

Eros and Anteros on either fide,

One fir'd the bridegroom,and one warm'd the bride;
And long-attending Hymen from above
Shower'd on the bed the whole Idalian grove,
All of a tenor was their after-life,
No day difcolour'd with domestic strife;
No jealousy, but mutual truth believ'd,
Secure repofe, and kindnefs undeceiv'd.
Thus Heaven, beyond the compafs of his thought,
Sent him the bleffing he fo dearly bought.

So may the Queen of Love long duty blefs, And all true lovers find the fame fuccefs.

§ 29. Religio Laici.

DIM

DRYDEN.

AN EPISTLE.

IM as the borrow'd beams of moon and ftars To lonely, weary, wand'ring travellers, Is reafon to the foul: and as on high Those rolling fires discover but the sky, Not light us here; fo reafon's glimm'ring ray Was lent, not to affure our doubtful way, But guide us upward to a better day. And as thofe nightly tapers disappear When day's bright lord afcends our hemisphere; So pale grows reafon at religion's fight; So dies, and fo diffolves in fupernat ral light. Some few, whofe lamp fhone brighter, have been led From caufe to caufe, to nature's fecret head; And found that one firft principle must be: But what, or who, that univerfal He; Whether fome foul encompaffing this ball, Unmade, unmov'd; yet making, moving all; Or various atoms, interfering dance, Leap'd into form, the noble work of chance; Or this great all was from eternity; Not c'en the Stagirite himself could fee; And Epicurus guefs'd as well as he ; As blindly grop'd they for a future state; As rafhly judg'd of providence and fate : But leaft of all could their endeavours find What most concern'd the good of human kind:

U

For

For happiness was never to be found,
But vanish'd from them like enchanted ground.
One thought content the good to be enjoy'd:
This every little accident deftroy'd:
The wifer madmen did for virtue toil;
A thorny, or at best a barren foil:

In pleafure fome their glutton fouls would steep;
But found their line too fhort, the well too deep;
And leaky veffels which no blifs could keep.
Thus anxious thoughts in endless circles roll,
Without a centre where to fix the foul:
In this wild maze their vain endeavours end:
How can the lefs the greater comprehend?
Or finite reafon reach Infinity?

For what could fathom God were more than He.
The Deift thinks he ftands on firmer ground;
Cries suga, the mighty fecret's found:
God is that fpring of good; fupreme, and best;
We made to ferve, and in that fervice bleft.
If fo, fome rules of worship muft be given,
Distributed alike to all by Heaven:
Elfe God were partial, and to fome denied
The means his juftice fhould for all provide.
This gen'ral worship is to praife and pray;
One part to borrow bleffings, one to pay :
And when frail nature flides into offence,
The facrifice for crimes is penitence.
Yet, fince th'effects of providence, we find,
Are varioufly difpens'd to human kind;
That vice triumphs, and virtue fuffers here,
A brand that fov'reign juftice cannot bear;
Our reafon prompts us to a future ftate,
The laft appeal from fortune and from fate;
Where God's all-righteous ways will be declar'd;
The bad meet punithment, the good reward.

Thus man by his own ftrength to Heaven would
And would not be oblig'd to God for more. [foar;
Vain wretched creature! how art thou misled,
To think thy wit these godlike notions bred!
Thefe truths are not the product of thy mind,
But dropt from heaven, and of a nobler kind.
Reveal'd religion firft inform'd thy fight,
And reafon faw not till faith fprung the light.
Hence all thy nat'ral worship takes the fource;
'Tis revelation, what thou think 'ft difcourfe.
Elfe how com'ft thou to fee thefe truths fo clear,
Which fo obfcure to heathens did appear?
Not Plato thefe, nor Ariftotle found;
Nor he whofe wifdom oracles renown'd.
Haft thou a wit fo deep, or fo fublime,
Or canft thou lower dive, or higher climb ?
Canft thou by reafon more of godhead know
Than Plutarch, Seneca, or Cicero ?
Thofe giant wits in happier ages born,
When arms and arts did Greece and Rome adorn,
Knew no fuch fyftem; no fuch piles could raife
Of nat'ral worthip built on prayer and praife
To one fole God.

Nor did remorfe to expiate fin prefcribe;
But flew their fellow-creatures for a bribe:
The guiltlefs victim groan'd for their offence;
And cruelty and blood were penitence.
If fheep and oxen could at one for men,
Ah! at how cheap a rate the rich might fin!

And great oppreffors might Heaven's wrath beguile, By off ring his own creatures for a spoil!

Dar'ft thou, poor worm, offend Infinity? And must the terms of peace be given by thee? Then thou art Juftice in the laft appeal; Thy eafy God instructs thee to rebel; And like a king, remote and weak, must take What fatisfaction thou art pleas'd to make.

But if there be a pow'r too just and strong To wink at crimes, and bear unpunish'd wrong, Look humbly upward, fee his will disclose The forfeit first, and then the fine impofe; A mulet thy poverty could never pay, Had not eternal wifdom found the way, And with celestial wealth fupplied thy store; His juftice makes the fine, his mercy quits the fcore. See God defcending in thy human frame; Th' offended fuffering in th' offender's name; All thy mifdeeds to him imputed fee, And all his righteousness devolv'd on thee.

For, granting we have finn'd,and that th' offence Of man is made against Omnipotence, Some price that bears proportion must be paid; And infinite with infinite be weigh'd. See then the Deift loft; remorfe for vice, Not paid; or, paid, inadequate in price: What farther means can reafon now direct, Or what relief from human wit expect? That thews us fick; and fadly are we fure Still to be fick, till Heaven reveal the cure: If then Heaven's will muft needs be understood, Which muft, if we want cure,and Heaven be good, Let all records of will reveal'd be fhewn; With fcripture all in equal balance thrown, And our one facred book will be that one.

Proof needs not here; for whether we compare
That impious, idle, fuperftitious ware
Of rites, luftrations, off'rings, which before,
In various ages, various countries bore,
With chriftian faith and virtues, we fhall find
None anfw'ring the great ends of human kind,
But this one rule of life, that fhews us best
How God may be appeas'd, and mortals bleft.
Whether from length of time its worth we draw,
The word is fcarce more ancient than the law;
Heaven's carly care prefcrib'd for ev'ry age;
Firft in the foul, and after in the page.
Or whether more abftractedly we look,
Or on the writers, or the written book,
Whence, but from Heaven, could men unskill'd
in arts,

In fev'ral ages born, in fev'ral parts,
Weave fuch agreeing truths or how, or why,
Should all confpire to cheat us with a lye ?
Unafk'd their pains, ungrateful their advice,
Starving their gain, and martyrdom their price.
If on the book itself we caft our view,
Concurrent heathens prove the story true;
The doctrine, miracles; which must convince,
For heaven in them appeals to human fense;
And tho they prove not, they confirm the cause,
When what is taught agrees with nature's laws."
Then for the ftyle, majeftic and divine,
It fpeaks no less than God in ev'ry line;

Command'ng

Commanding words; whofe force is ftill the fame
As the first fat that produc'd our frame.
All faiths befide or did by arms afcend,
Or fenfe indulg'd has made mankind their friend;
This only doctrine does our lufts oppose,
Unfed by nature's foil, in which it grows;
Crofs to our int'refts, curbing sense and fin;
Opprefs'd without, and undermin'd within,
It thrives thro' pain; its own tormentors tires;
And with a stubborn patience still afpires.
To what can reason fuch effects affign
Tranfcending nature, but to laws divine;
Which in that facred volume are contain❜d;
Sufficient, clear, and for that use ordain'd?

But ftay: the Deift here will urge anew,
No fupernat❜ral worship can be true;
Because a gen'ral law is that alone
Which must to all, and ev'ry where, be known:
A ftyle fo large as not this book can claim,
Nor aught that bears reveal'd religion's name.
'Tis faid, the found of a Meffiah's birth
Is gone thro' all the habitable earth;
But ftill that text must be confin'd alone
To what was then inhabited and known:
And what provifion could from thence accrue
To Indian fouls, and worlds difícover'd new?
In other parts it helps, that ages past,
The fcriptures there were known, and were em-
brac'd,

Till fin fpread once again the shades of night;
What's that to these, who never faw the light?
Of all objections this indeed is chief
To startle reason, stagger frail belief:
We grant, 'tis true, that Heaven from human fenfe
Has hid the fecret paths of providence ;
But boundless wisdom, boundless mercy, may
Find, ev'n for those bewilder'd souls, a way;
If from his nature foes may pity claim, [name.
Much more may ftrangers who ne'er heard his
And though no name be for falvation known,
But that of his eternal Son's alone;
Who knows how far tranfcending goodness can
Extend the merits of that Son to man?
Who knows what reafons may his mercy lead;
Or ignorance invincible may plead?
Not only charity bids hope the best,
But more the great apoftle has exprefs'd:
"That if the Gentiles, whom no law inspir'd,
By nature did what was by law requir'd,
They, who the written rule had never known,
Were to themselves both rule and law alone :
To nature's plain indictment they fhall plead;
And by their confcience be condemn'd or freed."
Moft righteous doom! because a rule reveal'd
Is none to thofe from whom it was conceal'd.
Then those who follow'd reason's dictates right
Liv'd up, and lifted high their natʼral light;
With Socrates may fee their Maker's face,
While thousand rubric-martyrs want a place.
Nor does it baulk my charity, to find
Th' Egyptian bishop of another mind;
For though his creed eternal truth contains,
'Tis hard for man to doom to endless pains
All who believ'd not all his zeal requir'd;
Unless he first could prove he was infpir'd.

Then let us either think he meant to say
This faith, where publifh'd, was the only way;
Or else conclude that, Arius to confute,
The good old man, too cager in difpute,
Flew high; and as his chriftian fury rofe,
Damn'd all for heretics who durft oppose.

Thus far my charity this path has tried;
A much unskilful, but well-meaning guide:
Yet what they are, e'en thefe crude thoughts were
By reading that which better thou haft read. [bred,
Thy matchlefs author's work; which thou, my
By well tranflating better doft commend; [friend,
Those youthful hours which of thy equals moft
In toys have fquander'd, or in vice have loft;
Thofe hours haft thou to nobler ufe employ'd,
And the fevere delights of truth enjoy'd.
Witnefs this weighty book, in which appears
The crabbed toil of many thoughtful years,
Spent by thy author, in the fifting care
Of rabbins old fophisticated ware

From gold divine; which he who well can fort
May afterwards make algebra a sport.
A treasure, which if country-curates buy,
They Junius and Tremellius may defy;
Save pains in various readings and translations;
And without Hebrew make most learn'd quo-
tations.

A work fo full with various learning fraught,
So nicely ponder'd, yet fo ftrongly wrought,
As nature's height and art's laft hand requir'd,
As much as man could compass, uninfpir'd:
Where we may fee what errors have been made
Both in the copyer's and tranflator's trade;
How Jewish, Popifh, int'refts have prevail'd,
And where infallibility has fail'd.

For fome, who have his fecret meaning guefs'd,
Have found our author not too much a priest:
For fashion's fake he feems to have recourse
To pope, and councils, and tradition's force:
But he that old traditions could fubdue,
Could not but find the weakness of the new:
If fcripture, tho' deriv'd from heavenly birth,
Has been but carelessly preferv'd on earth;
If God's own people, who of God before
Knew what we know, and had been promis'd
In fuller terms of heaven's aflifting care, [more,
And who did neither time nor ftudy fpare
To keep this book untainted, unperplex'd,
Let in grofs errors to corrupt the text,
Omitted paragraphs, embroil'd the fenfe,
With vain traditions stopt the gaping fence,
Which ev'ry common hand pull'd up with eafe,
What fafety from fuch brufhwood-helps as thefe?
If written words from time are not fecur'd,
How can we think have oral founds endur'd?
Which thus tranfmitted, if one mouth has fail'd,
Immortal lyes on ages are entail'd:

And that fome fuch have been, is prov'd too plain,
If we confider int'reft, church, and gain.

O but, fays one, tradition set aside,
Where can we hope for an unerring guide?
For fince th' original fcripture has been loft,
All copies difagreeing, maim'd the most,
Or chriftian faith can have no certain ground,
Or truth in church-tradition must be found.

Such

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Such an omniscient church we with indeed;
'Twere worth both Teftaments caft in the creed:
But if this mother be a guide fo fure,
As can all doubts refolve, all truth secure,
Then her infallibility, as well

Where copies are corrupt or lame, can tell;
Reftore loft canon with as little pains.
As truly explicate what ftill remains :
Which yet no council dare pretend to do;
Unless, like Efdras, they could write it new:
Strange confidence still to interpret true,
Yet not be fure that all they have explain'd
Is in the bleft original contain'd.

More fafe, and much more modeft 'tis, to fay
God would not leave mankind without a way:
And that the fcriptures, tho' not every where
Free from corruption, or entire, or clear,
Are uncorrupt, fufficient, clear, entire,
In all things which our needful faith require.
If others in the same glass better see,
Tis for themselves they look, but not for me:
For my falvation must its doom receive,
Not from what others, but what I believe.
Muft all tradition then be fet afide?
This to affirm, were ignorance or pride.
Are there not many points, fome needful fure
To faving faith, that fcripture leaves obfcure?
Which ev'ry feet will wreft a fev'ral way;
For what one fect interprets, all fects may:
We hold, and fay we prove from fcripture plain,
That Chrift is God; the bold Socinian
From the fame fcripture urges he's but man.
Now what appeal can end th' important suit ?
Both parts talk loudly, but the rule is mute.

Shall I fpeak plain, and in a nation free
Affume an honeft layman's liberty?
I think, according to my little fkill,
To my own mother-church fubmitting still,
That inany have been fav'd, and many may,
Who never heard this queftion brought in play.
Th' unletter'd Chriftian, who believes in grofs,
Plods on to heaven, and ne'er is at a lofs:
For the ftraight gate would be made ftraighter
yet,

Were none admitted there but men of wit.
The few by natureform'd, with learning fraught,
Bon to inftruct, as others to be taught,
Muft ftudy well the facred page; and fee
Which doctrine, this or that, does beft agree
With the whole tenor of the work divine,
And plainliett points to Heaven's reveal'd defign:
Which expofition flows from genuine sense,
And which is forc'd by wit and eloquence.
Not that tradition's parts are useless here;
When gen'ral, old, difinterefted, and clear:
That ancient fathers thus expound the page,
Gives truth the reverend majefty of age:
Confirms its force by biding ev'ry test;
For beft authorities next rules are beft.
And ftill the nearer to the fpring we go,
More limpid, more unioil'd, the waters flow.
Thus firft traditions were a proof alone;
Could we be certain, fuch they were, fo known;
But fince fome flaws in long defcent may be,
They make not truth, but probability.

E'en Arius and Pelagius durft provoke
To what the centuries preceding fpoke.
Such diffrence is there in an oft-told tale:
But truth by its own finews will prevail.
Tradition written therefore more commends
Authority, than what from voice defcends:
And this, as perfect as its kind can be,
Rolls down to us the facred hiftory:
Which, from the universal church receiv'd,
Is tried, and after for itself believ'd.

The partial Papists would infer from hence
Their church, in laft refort, fhould judge the fenfe.
But first they would affume with wondrous art
Themfelves to be the whole, who are but part
Of that vaft frame the church; yet grant they were
The handers-down, can they from thence infer
A right t' interpret or would they alone,
Who brought the prefent, claim it for their own?
The book's a common largefs to mankind;
Not more for them than ev'ry man defign'd:
The welcome news is in the letter found;
The carrier's not commiffion'd to expound.
It speaks itself, and what it does contain
In all things needful to be known is plain.

In times o'ergrown with ruft and ignorance, A gainful trade their clergy did advance; When want of learning kept the laymen low, And none but priests were authoriz’d to know : When what fmall knowledge was in them did dwell;

And he a god who could but read and spell;
Then mother church did mightily prevail;
She parcel'd out the Bible by retail:
But ftill expounded what the fold or gave,
To keep it in her power to damn and save.
Scripture was fearce, and, as the market went,
Poor laymen took falvation on content;
As needy men take money good or bad:
God's word they had not, but the priest's they had.
Yet whate'er falfe conveyances they made,
The lawyer ftill was certain to be paid.
In those dark times they learn'd their knack f●
That by long ufe they grew infallible. [well,
At laft a knowing age began t'enquire
If they the book, or that did them infpire:

| And making narrower search they found, tho' late, That what they thought the pricft's was their

eftate:

Taught by the will produc'd, the written word,
How long they had been cheated on record.
Then ev'ry man who faw the title fair,
Claim'd a child's part, and put in for a share:
Confulted foberly his private good,
And fav'd himself as cheap as e'er he could.

'Tis true, my friend, and far be flatt'ry hence,
This good had full as bad a confequence:
The book thus put in ev'ry vulgar hand,
Which each prefum'd he beft could understand,
The common rule was made the common prey,
And at the mercy of the rabble lay.
The tender page with horny fifts was gall'd;
And he was gifted moft that loudeft bawl'd:
The fpirit gave the doctoral degree;
And ev'ry member of a company
Was of his trade and of the Bible free.

Plain

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