veral members of them; at least all such as are received under that denomination. For example; there are fome of the church by law eftablished, who envy not liberty of confcience to diffenters; as being well fatisfied that, according to their own principles, they ought not to perfecute them. Yet thefe, by reafon of their fewness, I could not diftinguish from the numbers of the rest, with whom they are embodied in one common name. On the other fide, there are many of our fects, and more indeed than I could reasonably have hoped, who have withdrawn themselves from the communion of the Panther, and embraced this gracious indulgence of his majesty in point of toleration. But neither to the one nor the other of thefe is this fatire any way intended: it is aimed only at the refractory and difobedient on either fide. For those, who are come over to the royal party, are consequently supposed to be out of gun-fhot. Our physicians have observed, that, in procefs of time, fome diseases have abated of their virulence, and have in a manner worn out their malignity, fo as to be no longer mortal: and why may not I suppose the fame concerning fome of thofe, who have formerly been enemies to kingly government, as well as Catholic religion? I hope they have now another notion of both, as having found, by comfortable experience, that the doctrine of perfecution is far from being an article of our faith.

It is not for any private man to cenfure the proceedings of a foreign prince: but, without fufpicion of flattery, I may praise our own, who bas taken contrary measures, and those more fuitable to the fpirit of Chriftianity. Some of the diffenters in their addreffes to his majesty, have faid, "That he has reftored God to his empire over conscience." I confefs, I dare not ftretch the figure to fo great a boldness: but I may fafely fay, that conscience is the royalty and prerogative of every private man. He is abfolute in his own breaft, and accountable to no earthly power for that which paffes only betwixt God and him. Those who are driven into the fold are, generally speaking, rather made hypocrites than converts.

This indulgence being granted to all the fects, it ought in reafon to be expected, that they should both receive it, and receive it thankfully. For, at this time of day, to refuse the benefit, and adhere to those whom they have esteemed their perfecutors, what is it elfe, but publicly to own, that they fuffered not before for conscience-fake, but only out of pride and obftinacy, to feparate from a church for those impofitions, which they now judge may be lawfully obeyed? After they have fo long contended for their claffical ordination (not to speak of rites and ceremonies), will they at length fubmit to an epifcopal? If they can go fo far out of complaifance to their old enemies, methinks a little reafon fhould perfuade them to take another ftep, and fee whether that would lead them.

Of the receiving this toleration thankfully I fhall fay no more, than that they ought, and I

doubt not they will confider from what hand they received it. It is not from a Cyrus, a heathen prince, and a foreigner, but from a Christian king, their native fovereign; who expects a return in fpecie from them; that the kindness, which he has graciously fhewn them, may be retaliated on those of his own perfuafion.

As for the poem in general, I will only thus far fatisfy the reader, that it was neither impofed on me, nor fo much as the fubject given me by any man. It was written during the laft winter, and the beginning of this fpring; though with long interruptions of ill health and other hindrances. About a fortnight before I had finished it, his majesty's declaration for liberty of conscience came abroad: which if I had fo foon expected, I might have fpared myself the labour of writing many things which are contained in the third part of it. But I was always in hope, that the church of England might have been perfuaded to have taken off the penal laws and the test, which was one defign of the poem, when I proposed to myself the writing of it.

It is evident that fome part of it was only occafional, and not first intended: I mean that defence of myself, to which every honeft man is bound, when he is injuriously attacked in print: and I refer myself to the judgment of those, who have read the Answer to the defence of the late king's papers, and that of the dutchess (in which laft I was concerned) how charitably I have been reprefented there. I am now informed both of the author and supervisors of this pamphlet, and will reply, when I think he can affront me: for I am of Socrates's opinion, that all creatures cannot. In the mean time let him consider whether he deserved not a more fevere reprehenfion, than I gave him formerly, for using fo little refpect to the memory of thofe, whom he pretended to anfwer; and at his leisure, look out for some original treatise of humility, written by any Proteftant in English; I believe I may fay in any other tongue; for the magnified piece of Duncomb on that fubject, which either he muft mean, or none, and with which another of his fellows has upbraided me, was tranflated from the Spanish of Rodriguez; though with the omiffion of the feventeenth, the twenty-fourth, the twenty-fifth, and the laft chapter, which will be found in comparing of the books.

He would have infinuated to the world, that her late highnefs died not a Roman Catholic. He declares himself to be now fatisfied to the contrary, in which he has given up the cause for matter of fact was the principal debate betwixt us. In the mean time, he would dispute the motives of her change; how prepofterously, let all men judge, when he feemed to deny the fubject of the controverfy, the change itself. And because I would not take up this ridiculous challenge, he tells the world I cannot argue: but he may as well inter, that a Catholic cannot faft, becaufe he will not take up the cudgels against Mrs. James, to confute the Proteftant religion. I have but one word more to say concerning

the poem as fuch, and abstracted from the matters, either religious or civil, which are handled | in it. The first part, consisting most in general characters and narration, I have endeavoured to raife, and give it the majestic turn of heroic pocfy. The second being matter of difpute, and chiefly concerning church authority, I was obliged to make as plain and perfpicuous as poffibly I could; yet not wholly neglecting the numbers, though I had not frequent occafions for the magnificence of verfe. The third, which has more of the nature of domestic conversation, is, or ought to be, more free and familiar than the two former.

There are in it two episodes or fables, which are interwoven with the main defign; so that they are properly parts of it, though they are also diftinct ftories of themselves. In both of these I have made ufe of the common-places of fatire, whether true or false, which are urged by the members of the one church against the other: at which I hope no reader of either party will be fcandalized, because they are not of my invention, but as old, to my knowledge, as the times of Boccace and Chaucer on the one fide, and as those of the Reformation on the other.

A MILK-WHITE Hind, immortal and unchang'd,
Fed on the lawns, and in the forest rang'd;
Without unfpotted, innocent within,
She fear'd no danger, for the knew no fin.

Yet had the oft been chac'd with horns and hounds,

And Scythian fhafts; and many winged wounds
Aim'd at her heart; was often forc'd to fly,
And doom'd to death though fated not to die.
Not fo her young; for their unequal line
Was hero's make, half human, half divine.
Their earthly mold obnoxious was to fate,
Th' immortal part affum'd immortal state.
Of thefe a flaughter'd army lay in blood,
Extended o'er the Caledonian wood,

Their native walk; whofe vocal blood arose,
And cry'd for pardon on their prejur'd foes.
Their fate was fruitful, and the fanguine feed,
Endu'd with fouls, increas'd the sacred breed.
So captive Ifrael multiply'd in chains,
A numerous exile, and enjoy'd her pains.
With grief and gladness mix'd the mother view'd
Her martyr'd offspring, and their race renew'd;
Their corps to perifh, but their kind to laft,
So much the deathlefs plant the dying fruit
furpass'd.

Panting and penfive now fhe rang'd alone,
And wander'd in the kingdoms, once her own.
The common hunt, though from their rage re-
ftrain'd

By fovereign power her company disdain'd;

Grinn'd as they pass'd, and with a glaring eye
Gave gloomy figns of fecret enmity.
'Tis true, the bounded by, and trip'd fo light,
They had not time to take a steady fight.
For truth has fuch a face and fuch a mien,
As to be lov'd needs only to be seen.

The bloody bear, an independent beast,
Unlick'd to form, in groans her hate expreft.
Among the timorous kind the quaking hare
Profefs'd neutrality, but would not swear,
Next her the buffoon ape, as atheists use,
Mimick'd all fects, and had his own to choose :
Still when the lion look'd, his knees he bent,
And paid at church a courtier's compliment.
The bristled baptist boar, impure as he,
But whiten'd with the foam of fanctity,
With fat pollutions fill'd the facred place,
And mountains level'd in his furious race:
So first rebellion founded was in grace.
But fince the mighty ravage, which he made
In German foreft, had his guilt betray'd,
With broken tusks, and with a borrow'd name,
He fhun'd the vengeance, and conceal'd the
fhame;

So lurk'd in fects unfeen. With greater guile
Falfe Reynard fed on confecrated spoil:
The graceless beast by Athanafius first
Was chac'd from Nice, then by Socinus nurs'd:
His impious race their blafphemy renew'd,
And nature's king through nature's optics
view'd.

Revers'd they view'd him leffen'd to their eye,
Nor in an infant could a God defcry.
New swarming fects to this obliquely tend,
Hence they began, and here they all will end.
What weight of antient witness can prevail,
If private reafon hold the public fcale?
But, gracious God, how well doft thou provide
For erring judgments an unerring guide!
Thy throne is darkness in th' abyfs of light,
A blaze of glory that forbids the fight.
O teach me to believe thee thus conceal'd,
And search no farther than thyself reveal'd;
But her alone for my director take,
Whom thou haft promis'd never to forfake!
My thoughtless youth was wing'd with vain defires,
My manhood, long misled by wandering fires,
Follow'd falfe lights; and, when their glimpfe
was gone,

My pride ftruck out new fparkles of her own.
Such was I, fuch by nature ftill I am;

Be thine the glory, and be mine the shame.
Good life be now my talk: my doubts are done :
What more could fright my faith, than three in
one?

Can I believe eternal God could lie
Difguis'd in mortal mold and infancy?
That the great Maker of the world could die?
And after that trust my imperfect sense,
Which calls in question his omnipotence?
Can I my reason to my faith compel?
And fhall my fight, and touch, and taste, rebel?
Superior faculties are set aside;

Shall their fubfervient organs be my guide?
Then let the moon ufurp the rule of day,
And winking tapers fhew the fun his way;
For what my fenfes can themselves perceive,
I need no revelation to believe.

Can they who fay the hoft fhould be defcry'd
By fenfe, define a body glorify'd?
Impaffable and penetrating parts?
Let them declare by what mysterious arts
He shot that body through th' oppofing might
Of bolts and bars impervious to the light,
And ftood before his train confefs'd in open
fight.

For fince thus wondrously he pass'd, 'tis plain,
One fingle place two bodies did contain.
And fure the fame omnipotence as well
Can make one body in more.places dwell.
Let reafon then at her own quarry fly,
But how can finite grafp infinity?

'Tis urg'd again, that faith did firft commence
By miracles, which are appeals to sense,
And thence concluded, that our fenfe must be
The motive ftill of credibility.

For latter ages muft on former wait,
And what began belief must propagate.

But winnow well this thought, and you shall
find

'Tis light as chaff that flies before the wind.
Were all thofe wonders wrought by power divine,
As means or ends of fome more deep defign?
Moft fure as means, whofe end was this alone,
To prove the Godhead of th' eternal Son.

God thus afferted, man is to believe
Beyond what fenfe and reafon can conceive,
And for myfterious things of faith rely
On the proponent, heaven's authority.
If then our faith we for our guide admit,
Vain is the farther search of human wit,
As when the building gains a furer stay,
We take th' unufeful fcaffolding away.
Reafon by fenfe no more can understand;
The game is play'd into another hand.
Why choose we then like bilanders to creep
Along the coaft, and land in view to keep,
When fafely we may launch into the deep?
In the fame veffel which our Saviour bore,
Himself the pilot, let us leave the shore,
And with a better guide a better world explore.
Could he his Godhead veil with flesh and blood,
And not veil these again to be our food?
His grace in both is equal in extent,
The first affords us life, the fecond nourishment.
And if he can, why all this frantic pain
To conftrue what his cleareft words contain,
And make a riddle what he made fo plain?
To take up half on trust, and half to try,
Name it not faith, but bungling bigotry.
Both knave and fool the merchant we may call,"
To pay great fumis, and to compound the fmall: (
For who would break with heaven, and would (
not break for all?

Reft then, my foul, from endless anguish freed:
Nor fciences thy guide, nor fenfe thy creed.
Faith is the best enfurer of thy bliss:

The bank above must fail before the venture mifs. But heaven and heaven-born faith are far from thee,

Thou first apoftate to divinity.

Unkennel'd range in thy Polonian plains:
A fiercer foe the infatiate wolf remains.
Too boaftful Britain, please thyself no more,
That beafts of prey are banish'd from thy fhore,
The bear, the boar, and every favage name,
Wild in effect, though in appearance tame,
Lay wafte thy woods, deftroy thy blissful bower,
And, muzzled though they feem, the mutes de-

vour.

More haughty than the reft, the wolfish race
Appear with belly gaunt, and famifh'd face:
Never was fo deform'd a beast of grace.
His ragged tail betwixt his legs he wears,
Clofe clap'd for fhame; but his rough creft he

rears,

And pricks up his predeftinating ears.
His wild diforder'd walk, his haggard eyes,
Did all the beftial citizens furprize.
Though fear'd and hated, yet he rul'd a while,
As captain or companion of the spoil.
Full many a year his hateful head had been
For tribute paid, nor fince in Cambria seen :
The last of all the litter fcap'd by chance,
And from Geneva first infested France.
Some authors thus his pedigree will trace,
But others write him of an upstart race;
Because of Wickliff's brood no mark he brings.
But his innate antipathy to kings