DIM as the borrow'd beams of moon and stars
To lonely, weary, wandering travellers,
Is reafon to the foul: and as on high,
Thofe rolling fires discover but the sky,

Not light us here; fo reafon's glimmering 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 hemifphere;
So pale grows reafon at religion's fight;

So dies, and fo diffolves in fupernatural light. [led
Some few, whofe lamp fhone brighter, have been
From caufe to caufe, to nature's fecret head;
And found that one first principle must be :
But what, or who, that univerfal He;
Whether fome foul incompaffing 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 ev'n the Stagirite himself could fee;
And Epicurus guefs'd as well as he :
As blindly grop'd they for a future ftate;
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 :
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 destroy'd :

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 pnza, the mighty fecret's found :
God is that fpring of good; fupreme, and best;
We made to ferve, and in that service bleft,
If fo, fome rules of worship must be given,
Diftributed alike to all by heaven :
Elfe God were partial, and to fome deny'd
The means his juftice fhould for all provide.
This general worship is to praise 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 the effects of providence, we find,
Are variously difpens'd to human kind;
That vice triumphs, and virtue fuffers here,
A brand that fovereign juftice cannot bear;
Our reafon prompts us to a future ftate:
The laft appeal from fortune and from fate:

Of all objections this indeed is chief To ftartle reafon, ftagger frail belief.

As nature's height and art's last hand requir'd: As much as man could compafs, uninfpir'd.

Has hid the fecret paths of providence :
But boundless wifdom, boundless mercy, may
Find ev'n for those bewilder'd fouls, 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
Erend 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 apostle has expreft:

* That if the Gentiles, whom no law infpir'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 shall plead;
And by their confcience be condemn'd or freed."
Mel righteous doom! becaufe a rule revear'd
Is none to thofe from whom it was conceal'd.
Then those who follow 'd reafon's dictates right;
Liv'd up, and lif ed hign their natural 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 doem 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 publish'd, was the only way;
Or elle conclude that, Arius to confute,
The good old man, too eager in difpute,
Flew high; and as his christian fury role,
Damn'd all for heretics who durft oppose.
Thus far my charity this path has try'd;
A much unskilful, but well-meaning guide: [bred
Yet what they are, ev'n these crude thoughts were
By reading that which better thou haft read.
Thy matchless author's work; which thou, my
friend,

By well tranflating better doft commend:

Thofe youthful hours which, of thy equals moft
In toys have fquander'd, or in vice have loft,
Thole hours halt thou to nobler ufe employ'd;
And the fevere delights of truth enjoy'd.
Witness this weighty book, in which appears
The crabbed toil of many thoughtful years,
Spent by my author, in the fifting care
Of rabbins old fophifticated ware

From gold divine; which he who well can fort
May afterwards make algebra afport.
A treasure, which if country curates buy,
They Junius and Tremellius may defy:

Save pains in various readings, and tranflations;
And without Hebrew make most learn'd quota→

tions.

A work to full with various learning fraught, o picely ponder'd, yet fo irongly wrought,

Both in the copyers and tranflators trade :
How Jewish, Popish, interests have prevail'd,
And where infallibility has fail'd.

For fome, who have his fecret meaning guess'd,
Have found our author not too much a pricit:
For fashion-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, though 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'

more,

In fuller terms, of heaven's affifting care,
And who did neither time nor study spare
To keep this book untainted, unperplext,
Let in grofs errors to corrupt the text,
Omitted paragraphs, embroil'd the sense,
With vain traditions stopt the gaping fence,
Which every common hand pull'd up with ease:
What fafety from fuch brushwood-helps as these?
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 intail'd;

And that fome fuch have been, is prov'd too plan;
If we confider intereft, church, and gain.

O but, fays one, tradition fet afide,
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 an omnifcient church we wish 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 fecure,
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 ftill 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, though not every where
Free from corruption, or intire, or clear,
Are uncorrupt, iufficient, clear, intire,
In all things which our needful faith require.
If others in the fame glafs better fee,
'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 set aside ?
'This to affirm, were ignorance or pride.
Are there not many points, fome needful fure
To faving faith, that fcripture leaves obscure i

Which every feet will wreft a several 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 many have been fav'd, and many may,
Who never heard this question brought in play.
Th' unletter'd Chriftian, who believes in grofs,
Plods on to heaven; and ne'er is at a lofs:
For the ftreight-gate would be made ftreighter yet,
Were none admitted there but men of wit.
The few by nature form'd, with learning fraught,
Born to inftruct, as others to be taught,
Muft study well the facred page; and fee
Which doctrine, this, or that, does beft agrée
With the whole tenor of the work divine:

And plainlieft 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 general, old, difinterested, clear:
That ancient Fathers thus expound the page,
Gives truth the reverend majefty of age:
Confirms its force by bideing every teft;
For beft authorities, next rules, are best.
And still the nearer to the spring we go
More limpid, more unfoil'd, the waters flow.
Thus firft traditions were a proof alone;
Could we be certain fuch they were, so known:
But fince fome flaws in long defcent may be,
They make not truth, but probability.
Ev'n Arius and Pelagius durft provoke
To what the centuries preceding spoke.
Such difference 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 history:
Which, from the univerfal church receiv'd,
Is try'd, and after, for itself believ'd.

The partial Papifts would infer from hence
Their church, in laft refort, fhould judge the fenfe.
But first they would affume with wonderous art,
Themselves 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 every 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 small knowledge was, in them di
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 she sold or gave;
To keep it in her power to damn and fave:
Scripture was scarce, 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 ha
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 use they grew infallible :
At laft a knowing age began t'inquire
If they the bock, or that did them inspire:
And making narrower search they found, thoug
late,

[wel

That what they thought the priest's, was the eftate:

Taught by the will produc'd, the written word,
How long they had been cheated on record.
Then every 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 flattery hence
This good had full as bad a confequence :
The book thus put in every vulgar hand,
Which each prefum'd he best 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 loudest baul'd:
The fpirit gave the doctoral degree:
And every member of a company
Was of his trade, and of the Bible free.
Plain truths enough for needful use they found;
But men would ftill be itching to expound :
Each was ambitious of th' obfcureft place,
No measure ta'en from knowledge, all from grad
Study and pains were now no more their care;
Texts were explain'd by fafting and by prayer:
This was the fruit the private fpirit brought;
Occafion'd by great zeal and little thought.
While crouds unlearn'd, with rude devotion warn
About the facred viands buz and swarm.
The fly-blown text creates a crawling brood;
And turns to maggots what was meant for food.
A thousand daily fects rife up and die:
A thousand more the perifh'd race fupply:
So all we make of heaven's discover'd will,
Is not to have it, or to ufe it ill.
The danger's much the fame; on feveral shelve
If others wreck us, or we wreck ourselves.

What then remains, but, waving each extren
The tides of ignorance and pride to ftem?
Neither fo rich a treasure to forego;
Nor proudly feek beyond our power to know:
Faith is not built on difquifitions vain;

The things we muft believe are few and plain: