And this, as perfect as its kind can be,
Rolls down to us the sacred history;
Which, from the universal church receiv'd,
Is try'd; and, after, for itself believ'd.
The partial Papists would infer from hence
Their church, in last resort, should judge the sense,
But first they would assume, with wond'rous art,
Themselves to be the whole, who are but part
Of that vast frame, the church: yet grant they were
The handers-down; can they from thence infer 361
A right t' interpret? or would* they alone,
Who brought the present, claim it for their own?
The Book's a common largess to mankind;
Not more for them than ev'ry man design'd;
The welcome news is in the letter found;
The carrier 's not commission'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 rust and ignorance, 370 A gainful trade their clergy did advance; When want of learning kept the layman low, And none but priests were authoris'd to know; When what small knowledge was, in them did dwell, And he a god, who could but read and spell. Then Mother-church did mightily prevail; She parcell'd out the Bible by retail; But still expounded what she sold, or gave; To keep it in her pow'r, to damn, and save.
The Editor would read, should.
Scripture was scarce; and, as the market went, 380
Poor laymen took salvation on content,
As needy men take money, good, or bad;
God's word they had not, but the priests' they had.
Yet, whate'er false conveyances they made,
The lawyer still was certain to be paid.
In those dark times, they learn'd their knack so well,
That by long use they grew infallible.
At last, a knowing age began t' inquire
If they the Book, or that did them inspire; 389
And, making narrower search, they found, tho' late,
That what they thought the priests' was their estate;
Taught by the will produc'd (the written word)
How long they had been cheated on record.
Then ev'ry man, who saw the title fair,
Claim'd a child's part, and put in for a share;
Consulted soberly his private good,
And sav'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 consequence:
The Book thus put in ev'ry vulgar hand,
Which each presum'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 fists was gall'd,
And he was gifted most that loudest bawl'd :
The Spirit gave the doctoral degree;
And ev'ry member of a company
Was of his trade, and of his bible free.
Plain truths enough for needful use they found,
But men would still be itching to expound: 410
Each was ambitious of th' obscurest place;
No measure ta'en from knowledge, all from grace.
Study and pains were now no more their care:
Texts were explain'd by fasting and by pray'r:
This was the fruit the private spirit brought,
Occasion'd by great zeal and little thought.
While crowds unlearn'd, with rude devotion warm,
About the sacred viands buz and swarm ;
The fly-blown text creates a crawling brood,
And turns to maggots what was meant for food. 420
A thousand daily sects rise up and die;
A thousand more the perish'd race supply:
So all we make of Heav'n's discover'd will
Is not to have it, or to use it ill.
The danger's much the same, on sev'ral shelves,
If others wreck us, or we wreck ourselves.
What then remains, but, waving each extreme,
The tides of ignorance and pride to stem ?
Neither so rich a treasure to forego,
Nor proudly seek beyond our pow'r to know. 430
Faith is not built on disquisitions vain :
The things we must believe are few and plain:
But since men will believe more than they need,
And ev'ry man will make himself a creed,
In doubtful questions 'tis the safest way
To learn what unsuspected Ancients say;
For 'tis not likely we should higher soar
In search of heav'n, than all the church before:
Nor can we be deceiv'd, unless we see
The Scripture and the Fathers disagree.
If, after all, they stand suspected still,
(For no man's faith depends upon his will)
Tis some relief, that points not clearly known
Without much hazard, may be let alone.
And, after hearing what our church can say,
If still our reason runs another way,
That private reason 'tis more just to curb,
Than by disputes the public peace disturb:
For points obscure are of small use to learn:
But common quiet is mankind's concern.
Thus have I made my own opinions clear, Yet neither praise expect, nor censure fear; And this unpolish'd, rugged verse I chose, As fittest for discourse, and nearest prose; For while from sacred truth I do not swerve, Tom Sternhold's, or Tom Shadwell's rhymes will
CREATOR Spirit! by whose aid
The world's foundations first were laid,
Come visit ev'ry pious mind;
Come pour thy joys on human kind;
From sin and sorrow set us free,
And make thy temples worthy thee.
O source of uncreated light!
The Father's promis'd Paraclete;
Thrice Holy Fount! thrice Holy Fire,
Our hearts with heav'nly love inspire;
Come, and thy sacred unction bring,
To sanctify us while we sing.
Plenteous of grace, descend from high,
Rich in thy sev❜nfold energy!
Thou strength of his almighty hand,
Whose pow'r does heav'n and earth command:
Proceeding Spirit, our defence,
Who dost the gift of tongues dispense,
And crown'st thy gift with eloquence!
Refine and purge our earthly parts;
But, oh! inflame and fire our hearts!
Our frailties help, our vice control,
Submit the senses to the soul;
And when rebellious they are grown,
Then lay thy hand, and hold them down.
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