Part III. 195

Notes on Part III. 240

Britannia Rediviva, a Poem on the Birth of the Prince, 283 Notes, 302

Prologues and Epilogues, 309

Mack-Flecknoe, a Satire against Thomas Shadwell, 425 Notes, 441

RELIGIO LAICI:

OR,

A LAYMAN'S FAITH.

AN EPISTLE.

_Ornari res ipsa negat; contenta doceri._

ARGUMENT.

TAKEN FROM THE AUTHOR'S MARGINAL NOTES.

Opinions of the several Sects of Philosophers concerning the _Summum bonum_.--System of Deism.--Of Revealed Religion.--Objection of the Deist.--Objection answered.--Digression to the Translator of Father Simon's Critical Edition of the Old Testament.--Of the Infallibility of Tradition in general.--Objection in behalf of Tradition, urged by Father Simon.--The Second Objection.--Answered.

RELIGIO LAICI.

The _Religio Laici_, according to Johnson, is almost the only work of Dryden which can be considered as a voluntary effusion. I do not see much ground for this assertion. Dryden was indeed obliged to write by the necessity of his circumstances; but the choice of the mode in which he was to labour was his own, as well in his Fables and other poems, as in that which follows. Nay, upon examination, the _Religio Laici_ appears, in a great measure, a controversial, and almost a political poem; and, being such, cannot be termed, with propriety, a voluntary effusion, any more than "The Medal," or "Absalom and Achitophel." It is evident, Dryden had his own times in consideration, and the effect which the poem was likely to produce upon them. Religious controversy had mingled deeply with the party politics of the reign of Charles II. Divided, as the nation was, into the three great sects of Churchmen, Papists, and Dissenters, their several creeds were examined by their antagonists with scrupulous malignity, and every hint extracted from them which could be turned to the disadvantage of those who professed them. To the Catholics, the dissenters objected their cruel intolerance and jesuitical practices; to the church of England, their servile dependence on the crown, and slavish doctrine of non-resistance. The Catholics, on the other hand, charged the reformed church of England with desertion from the original doctrines of Christianity, with denying the infallibility of general councils, and destroying the unity of the church; and against the fanatics, they objected their anti-monarchical tenets, the wild visions of their independent preachers, and their seditious cabals against the church and state. While the church of England was thus assailed by two foes, who did not at the same time spare each other, it probably occurred to Dryden, that he, who could explain her tenets by a plain and philosophical commentary, had a chance, not only of contributing to fix and regulate the faith of her professors, but of reconciling to her, as the middle course, the Catholics and the fanatics. The Duke of York and the Papists, on the one hand, were urging the king to the most desperate measures; on the other, the popular faction were just not in arms. The king, with the assistance and advice of Halifax, was trimming his course betwixt these outrageous and furious torrents. Whatever, therefore, at this important crisis, might act as a sedative on the inflamed spirits of all parties, and encourage them to abide with patience the events of futurity, was a main point in favour of the crown. A rational and philosophical view of the tenets of the national church, liberally expressed, and decorated with the ornaments of poetry, seemed calculated to produce this effect; and as I have no doubt, as well from the preface, as from passages in the poem, that Dryden had such a purpose in view, I have ventured to place the _Religio Laici_ among his historical and political poems.[1]

I would not, from what is above stated, be understood to mean, that Dryden wrote this poem merely with a view to politics, and that he was himself sceptical in the matters of which it treats.--On the contrary, I have no doubt, that it expresses, without disguise or reservation, what was then the author's serious and firm, though, as it unfortunately proved, not his unalterable religious opinion. The remarkable line in the "Hind and Panther," seems to refer to the state of his mind at this period; and this system of divinity was among the "new sparkles which his pride had struck forth," after he had abandoned the fanatical doctrines in which he was doubtless educated.[2] It is therefore probable, that, having formed for himself, on grounds which seemed to warrant it, a rational exposition of the national creed, he was willing to communicate it to the public at a period, when moderation of religious zeal was so essentially necessary to the repose of the nation.

Considered in this point of view, the _Religio Laici_ is one of the most admirable poems in the language. The argumentative part is conducted with singular skill, upon those topics which occasioned the principal animosity between the religious sects; and the deductions are drawn in favour of the church of England with so much apparent impartiality, that those who could not assent, had at least no title to be angry. The opinions of the various classes of free-thinkers are combated by an appeal to those feelings of the human mind, which always acknowledge an offended Deity, and to the various modes in which all ages and nations have shewn their sense of the necessity of an atonement by sacrifice and penance. Dryden, however, differs from most philosophers, who suppose this consciousness of guilt to be originally implanted in our bosoms: he, somewhat fantastically, argues, as if it were some remnants of the original faith revealed to Noah, and preserved by the posterity of Shem. The inadequacy of sacrifices and oblations, when compared with the crimes of those by whom they are made, and with the grandeur of the omnipotent Being, to whom they are offered, paves the way for the imputed righteousness of Jesus Christ, the fundamental doctrine of the Christian religion. The fitness of this vicarious sacrifice to accomplish the redemption of man, and vindicate the justice and mercy of God; the obvious impossibility that the writings, or authors, by which it has been conveyed to us, should be less than inspired; the progress of the Christian faith itself, though militating against the corrupt dispositions of humanity, and graced with none of those attractions by which Mahomet, and other false prophets, bribed their followers, are then successively urged as evidences of the Christian religion. The poet then recurs to an objection, at which he had hinted in his preface. If the Christian religion is necessary to salvation, why is it not extended to all nations of the earth? And suppose we grant that the circumstance of the revealed religion having been formerly preached and embraced in great part of the world where it is now unknown, shall be sufficient to subject those regions to be judged by its laws, what is to become of the generations who have lived before the coming of the Messiah? what of the inhabitants of those countries on which the beams of the gospel have never shone? To these doubts, I hope most Christians will think our author returns a liberal, and not a presumptuous answer, in supposing that the heathen will be judged according to the light which it has pleased God to afford them; and that, infinitely less fortunate than us in the extent of their spiritual knowledge, they will only be called upon to answer for their conformity with the dictates of their own conscience. The authority of St Athanasius our author here sets aside, either because in the ardour of his dispute with Arius he carried his doctrine too far, or because his creed only has reference to the decision of a doctrinal question in the Christian church; and the anathema annexed applies not to the heathen world, but to those, who, having heard the orthodox faith preached, have wilfully chosen the heresy. Dryden next takes under review the work of Father Simon; and, after an eulogy on the author and translator, pronounces, that the former was not a bigotted Catholic, since he did not hesitate to challenge some of the traditions of the church of Rome. To these traditions, these "brushwood helps," with which the Catholics endeavoured to fence the doctrines of their church, our author proceeds, and throws them aside as liable to error and corruption. The pretensions of the church of Rome, by her pope and general councils, infallibly to determine the authenticity of church tradition, is the next proposition. To this the poet answers, that if they possess infallibility at all, it ought to go the length of restoring the canon, or correcting the corrupt copies of scripture; a reply which seems to concede to the Romans; as, without denying the grounds of their claim, it only asserts, that it is not sufficiently extended. Upon, the ground, however, that the plea of infallibility, by which the poet is obviously somewhat embarrassed, must be dismissed, as proving too much, the holy scriptures are referred to as the sole rule of faith; admitting such explanations as the church of England has given to the contested doctrines of Christianity. The unlettered Christian, we are told, does well to pursue, in simplicity, his path to heaven; the learned divine is to study well the sacred scriptures, with such assistance as the most early traditions of the church, especially those which are written, may, in doubtful points, afford him. It is in this argument chiefly, that there may be traced a sort of vacillation and uncertainty in our author's opinion, boding what afterwards took place--his acquiescence in the church authority of Rome. Nevertheless, having vaguely pronounced, that some traditions are to be received, and others rejected, he gives his opinion against the Roman see, which dictated to the laity the explications of doctrine as adopted by the church, and prohibited them to form their own opinion upon the text, or even to peruse the sacred volume which contains it. This Dryden contrasts with the opposite evil, of vulgar enthusiasts debasing scripture by their own absurd commentaries, and dividing into as many sects, as there are wayward opinions formed upon speculative doctrine. He concludes, that both extremes are to be avoided; that saving faith does not depend on nice disquisitions; yet, if inquisitive minds are hurried into such, the scripture, and the commentary of the fathers, are their only safe guides:

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.

In considering Dryden's creed thus analyzed, I think it will appear, that the author, though still holding the doctrines of the church of England, had been biassed, in the course of his enquiry, by those of Rome. His wish for the possibility of an infallible guide,[3] expressed with almost indecent ardour, the difficulty, nay, it would seem, in his estimation, almost the impossibility, of discriminating between corrupted and authentic traditions, while the necessity of the latter to the interpretation of scripture is plainly admitted, appear, upon the whole, to have left the poet's mind in an unpleasing state of doubt, from which he rather escapes than is relieved. He who only acquiesces in the doctrines of his church, because the exercise of his private judgement may disturb the tranquillity of the state, can hardly be said to be in a state to give a reason for the faith that is in him.

The doctrine of the _Religio Laici_ is admirably adapted to the subject: though treating of the most abstruse doctrines of Christianity, it is as clear and perspicuous as the most humble prose, while it has all the elegance and effect which argument is capable of receiving from poetry. Johnson, usually sufficiently niggard of praise, has allowed, that this "is a composition of great excellence in its kind, in which the familiar is very properly diversified with the solemn, and the grave with the humorous; in which metre has neither weakened the force, nor clouded the perspicuity of argument; nor will it be easy to find another example, equally happy, of this middle kind of writing, which, though prosaic in some parts, rises to high poetry in others, and neither towers to the skies, nor creeps along the ground."[4] I cannot help remarking, that the style of the _Religio Laici_ has been imitated successfully by the late Mr Cowper in some of his pieces. Yet he has not been always able to maintain the resemblance, but often crawls where Dryden would have walked. The natural dignity of our author may be discovered in the lamest lines of the poem, whereas his imitator is often harsh and embarrassed. Both are occasionally prosaic; but in such passages Dryden's verse resembles good prose, and Cowper's that which is feeble and involved.

The name which Dryden has thought proper to affix to this declaration of his faith, seems to have been rather fashionable about that time. There is a treatise _de Religione Laici_, attached to the work of Lord Herbert of Cherburg, _De Veritate_, first published in 1633. But the most famous work, with a similar title, was the _Religio Medici_ of Thomas Browne, which was translated into Latin by Meryweather, and afterwards into French, Italian, Dutch, German, and most of the languages of Europe. In 1683, Charles Blount, of Staffordshire, son to Sir Henry Blount, published a short treatise, entitled, _Religio Laici_, which he inscribed to his "much honoured friend, John Dryden, Esq.;" whom he informed, in the epistle-dedicatory, "I have endeavoured that my discourse should only be a continuance of yours; and that, as you taught men how to believe, so I might instruct them how to live."[5]

It has been suggested, that the purpose of the _Religio Laici_ of Dryden was to bring the contending factions to sober and philosophical reflection on their differences in points of faith, and to abate, if possible, the acrimony with which they contended upon the most obscure subjects of polemical divinity. But to attempt, by an abstracted disquisition on the original cause of quarrel, to stop a controversy, in which all the angry passions had been roused, and which indeed was fast verging towards blows, is as vain an attempt, as it would be to turn the course of a river, swoln with a thousand tributary streams, by draining the original spring-head. From the cold reception of this poem, compared to those political and personal satires which preceded it, Dryden might learn the difference of interest, excited by productions which tended to fan party rage, and one which was designed to mitigate its ferocity. The _Religio Laici_, which first appeared in November 1682, neither attracted admiration nor censure; it was neither hailed by the acclamations of the one party, nor attacked by the indignant answers of the other. The public were, however, sufficiently interested in it to call for a renewal of the impression in the following year. This second edition, which had escaped even the researches of Mr Malone, is in the collection of my friend Mr Heber. It might probably have been again reprinted with advantage, but our author's change of faith must necessarily have rendered him unwilling to give a third edition. The same circumstance called the attention of his enemies towards this neglected poem, who, in many libels, upbraided him with the versatility of his religious opinions. The author of a pamphlet, called "The Revolter," was at the pains to print the tenets of the _Religio Laici_ concerning the Catholic controversy, in contrast with those which our author had adopted and expressed in the "Hind and Panther."[6] Another turned our author's own title against him, and published "_Religio Laici_, or a Layman's Faith touching the Supream and Infallible Guide of the Church, by J. R. a Convert of Mr Bayes. In Two Letters to a Friend in the Country. Licenced June the 1st, 1688." In both these pamphlets our author is treated with the grossest insolence and brutality.[7] Excepting these malignant criticisms, the _Religio Laici_ slept in obscurity after the second edition, and was not again published till after the author's death. Neither has it been since popular, although its pure spirit of Christianity should be acceptable to the religious, its moderation to the philosopher, and the excellence of the composition to all admirers of argumentative poetry.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: It was intimated by Dryden's enemies, that he chose this religious and grave subject with a view to smooth the way to his taking orders, and obtaining church preferment--See a quotation from the _Religio Laici_, by J. R. subjoined to these introductory remarks. But our author, in the preface to the "Fables," declares, that going into the church was never in his thoughts.]

[Footnote 2: The reader will find this opinion more fully expressed in the observations on Dryden's conversion to the Roman Catholic faith, given in the Life.]

[Footnote 3:

Such an omniscient church we wish indeed; 'Twere worth both Testaments, cast in the creed. ]

[Footnote 4: Johnson's Life of Dryden.]

[Footnote 5: Malone, Vol. III. p. 310.]

[Footnote 6: "The Revolter, a Tragi-Comedy, acted between the Hind and Panther and _Religio Laici_. London. 1687."]

[Footnote 7: As will appear from the following extracts:--"While he sat thus in his poetical throne, or rather acting upon the stage of fable and pagan mythology, and transfiguring into beasts almost all mankind, but Turks and infidels, that were out of his road, he never considered what a monster he was himself; a second Gorgon with three heads, for each of which he had a particular employment; with the one, to fawn upon the most infamous usurpers; with the other, at one time to lick the beneficent hands of his Protestant mother, and, bye and bye, to court the charity of his Catholic mamma; while, with the third, he barked and snarled, not only at his first deserted female parent, but also at all other differing sentiments and opinions, which his sovereign had so graciously and generously indulged."

But 'twas his wrath, because his native church Left his high expectations in the lurch.

* * * * *

He saw the play-wright laureate debauched By the times, vices which he himself reproached; And, by his grand reform stage-pit fools;, Judged his ability to manage souls. The comedy, to see him preach for aught, She knew might tragic prove to those he taught; By ill instructions to their loss beguiled, Or scorning precepts from a tongue defiled With stage obscenity---- For who could have refrained from sportive mirth, To hear the nation's poet, Bayes, hold forth? Or who would ever practice by the rule Of one they could not chuse but ridicule? The scandal was the greater, the more rare, An ordained play-wright in the house of prayer. While people only flock to hear him chime A rampant sermon forth in brilly rhime; Or else his gaping auditors he feasts With bold Isaiah's raptures, and Ezekiel's beasts. All this the church foresaw, nor could endure Polluted lips should handle things most pure.

_The Revolter_, p. 2.

But, to give the devil his due, I must needs own Mr Bayes has a most powerful and luxurious hand at satire, and may challenge all Christendom to match him; for indeed I never, in my slender province, met any that was worthy to compare to him, unless that unknown, but supposed worthy author, that writ to him upon his at last turning Roman Catholic; for Bayes, like the Vicar of Bray, in Henry VIII. Edward VI. Queen Mary, and Queen Elizabeth's times, was resolved to keep his place; (and the quoting an author to the purpose, is the same thing, the learned say, as if it was his own), and that will, I hope, excuse my putting them down here:--

"Thou mercenary renegade, thou slave, Thou ever changing still to be a knave; What sect, what error, wilt thou next disgrace? Thou art so _lude_, so scandalously base, That antichristian popery may be Ashamed of such a proselyte as thee; Not all thy rancour, or felonious spite, Which animates thy lumpish soul to write, Could ha' contrived a satire more severe, Or more _disgrace_ the cause thou wouldst prefer. Yet in thy favour, this must be confest, It suits with thy poetic genius best; There thou---- To truths disused, mayst entertain Thyself with stories, more fanciful and vain Than _e'er_ thy poetry could _ever_ fain; Or sing the lives of thy own fellow saints, 'Tis a large field, and thy assistance wants; Thence copy out new operas for the stage, And with their miracles direct the age. Such is thy faith, if faith thou hast indeed, For well we may suspect the poet's creed, Rebel to God, blasphemer o' the king, Oh tell whence could this strange compliance spring? So mayest thou prove to thy new gods as true, As thy old friend, the devil, has been to you. Yet conscience and religion's your pretence, But bread and drink the _methologick_ sense. Ah! how persuasive is the want of bread, Not reasons from strong box more strongly plead. A convert, thou! 'tis past all believing; 'Tis a damned scandal, of thy foes contriving; A jest of that malicious monstrous fame-- The honest layman's faith is still the same."

_Religio Laici, by J. R. a Convert of Mr Bayes._

In such coarse invective were Dryden's theological poems censured by persons, who, far from writing decent poetry, or even common sense, could neither spell, nor write tolerable grammar.]

THE

PREFACE.

A Poem, with so bold a title, and a name prefixed from which the handling of so serious a subject would not be expected, may reasonably oblige the author to say somewhat in defence, both of himself and of his undertaking. In the first place, if it be objected to me, that, being a layman, I ought not to have concerned myself with speculations, which belong to the profession of divinity; I could answer, that perhaps laymen, with equal advantages of parts and knowledge, are not the most incompetent judges of sacred things; but, in the due sense of my own weakness, and want of learning, I plead not this; I pretend not to make myself a judge of faith in others, but only to make a confession of my own. I lay no unhallowed hand upon the ark, but wait on it, with the reverence that becomes me, at a distance. In the next place, I will ingenuously confess, that the helps I have used in this small treatise, were many of them taken from the works of our own reverend divines of the church of England; so that the weapons with which I combat irreligion, are already consecrated; though I suppose they may be taken down as lawfully as the sword of Goliah was by David, when they are to be employed for the common cause against the enemies of piety. I intend not by this to entitle them to any of my errors, which yet I hope are only those of charity to mankind; and such as my own charity has caused me to commit, that of others may more easily excuse. Being naturally inclined to scepticism in philosophy, I have no reason to impose my opinions in a subject which is above it; but whatever they are, I submit them with all reverence to my mother church, accounting them no further mine, than as they are authorised, or at least uncondemned, by her. And, indeed, to secure myself on this side, I have used the necessary precaution of shewing this paper before it was published to a judicious and learned friend; a man indefatigably zealous in the service of the church and state, and whose writings have highly deserved of both. He was pleased to approve the body of the discourse, and I hope he is more my friend than to do it out of complaisance: It is true, he had too good a taste to like it all; and, amongst some other faults, recommended to my second view, what I have written, perhaps too boldly, on St Athanasius, which he advised me wholly to omit. I am sensible enough, that I had done more prudently to have followed his opinion; but then I could not have satisfied myself, that I had done honestly not to have written what was my own. It has always been my thought, that heathens, who never did, nor without miracle could, hear of the name of Christ, were yet in a possibility of salvation. Neither will it enter easily into my belief, that before the coming of our Saviour, the whole world, excepting only the Jewish nation, should lie under the inevitable necessity of everlasting punishment, for want of that revelation, which was confined to so small a spot of ground as that of Palestine. Among the sons of Noah, we read of one only who was accursed; and, if a blessing, in the ripeness of time, was reserved for Japhet, of whose progeny we are, it seems unaccountable to me, why so many generations of the same offspring, as preceded our Saviour in the flesh, should be all involved in one common condemnation, and yet that their posterity should be entitled to the hopes of salvation; as if a bill of exclusion had passed only on the fathers, which debarred not the sons from their succession: or, that so many ages had been delivered over to hell, and so many reserved for heaven, and that the devil had the first choice, and God the next. Truly I am apt to think, that the revealed religion, which was taught by Noah to all his sons, might continue for some ages in the whole posterity. That afterwards it was included wholly in the family of Shem, is manifest; but when the progenies of Cham and Japhet swarmed into colonies, and those colonies were subdivided into many others, in process of time their descendants lost, by little and little, the primitive and purer rites of divine worship, retaining only the notion of one deity; to which succeeding generations added others; for men took their degrees in those ages from conquerors to gods. Revelation being thus eclipsed to almost all mankind, the light of nature, as the next in dignity, was substituted; and that is it which St Paul concludes to be the rule of the heathens, and by which they are hereafter to be judged. If my supposition be true, then the consequence, which I have assumed in my poem, may be also true; namely, that Deism, or the principles of natural worship, are only faint remnants, or dying flames, of revealed religion, in the posterity of Noah; and that our modern philosophers, nay, and some of our philosophising divines, have too much exalted the faculties of our souls, when they have maintained, that, by their force, mankind has been able to find out, that there is one supreme agent, or intellectual being, which we call God; that praise and prayer are his due worship; and the rest of those deducements, which I am confident are the remote effects of revelation, and unattainable by our discourse, I mean as simply considered, and without the benefit of divine illumination. So that we have not lifted up ourselves to God, by the weak pinions of our reason, but he has been pleased to descend to us; and what Socrates said of him, what Plato writ, and the rest of the heathen philosophers of several nations, is all no more than the twilight of revelation, after the sun of it was set in the race of Noah. That there is something above us, some principle of motion, our reason can apprehend, though it cannot discover what it is by its own virtue: and, indeed, it is very improbable that we, who, by the strength of our faculties, cannot enter into the knowledge of any being, not so much as of our own, should be able to find out, by them, that supreme nature, which we cannot otherwise define, than by saying it is infinite; as if infinite were definable, or infinity a subject for our narrow understanding. They, who would prove religion by reason, do but weaken the cause which they endeavour to support: it is to take away the pillars from our faith, and to prop it only with a twig; it is to design a tower, like that of Babel, which, if it were possible, as it is not, to reach heaven, would come to nothing by the confusion of the workmen. For every man is building a several way; impotently conceited of his own model and his own materials, reason is always striving, and always at a loss; and of necessity it must so come to pass, while it is exercised about that which is not its proper object. Let us be content, at last, to know God by his own methods; at least, so much of him as he is pleased to reveal to us in the sacred Scriptures. To apprehend them to be the word of God is all our reason has to do; for all beyond it is the work of faith, which is the seal of heaven impressed upon our human understanding.

And now for what concerns the holy Bishop Athanasius, the preface of whose creed seems inconsistent with my opinion, which is, that heathens may possibly be saved. In the first place, I desire it may be considered, that it is the preface only, not the creed itself, which, till I am better informed, is of too hard a digestion for my charity.[8] It is not that I am ignorant, how many several texts of Scripture seemingly support that cause; but neither am I ignorant, how all those texts may receive a kinder, and more mollified interpretation. Every man, who is read in church history, knows that belief was drawn up after a long contestation with Arius, concerning the divinity of our blessed Saviour, and his being one substance with the Father; and that thus compiled, it was sent abroad among the Christian churches, as a kind of test, which, whosoever took, was looked on as an orthodox believer.[9] It is manifest from hence, that the heathen part of the empire was not concerned in it; for its business was not to distinguish betwixt Pagans and Christians, but betwixt heretics and true believers. This, well considered, takes off the heavy weight of censure, which I would willingly avoid from so venerable a man; for if this proportion, "whosoever will be saved," be restrained only to those to whom it was intended, and for whom it was composed, I mean the Christians; then the anathema reaches not the heathens, who had never heard of Christ, and were nothing interested in that dispute. After all, I am far from blaming even that prefatory addition to the creed, and as far from cavilling at the continuation of it in the liturgy of the church, where, on the days appointed, it is publicly read: for I suppose there is the same reason for it now, in opposition to the Socinians, as there was then against the Arians; the one being a heresy, which seems to have been refined out of the other; and with how much more plausibility of reason it combats our religion, with so much more caution it ought to be avoided: therefore, the prudence of our church is to be commended, which has interposed her authority for the recommendation of this creed. Yet to such as are grounded in the true belief, those explanatory creeds, the Nicene and this of Athanasius, might perhaps be spared; for what is supernatural will always be a mystery in spite of exposition; and, for my own part, the plain Apostles creed is most suitable to my weak understanding, as the simplest diet is the most easy of digestion.

I have dwelt longer on this subject than I intended, and longer than perhaps I ought; for, having laid down, as my foundation, that the Scripture is a rule; that in all things needful to salvation it is clear, sufficient, and ordained by God Almighty for that purpose; I have left myself no right to interpret obscure places, such as concern the possibility of eternal happiness to heathens; because whatsoever is obscure is concluded not necessary to be known.

But, by asserting the Scripture to be the canon of our faith, I have unavoidably created to myself two sorts of enemies; the papists, indeed, more directly, because they have kept the Scripture from us what they could, and have reserved to themselves a right of interpreting what they have delivered under the pretence of infallibility; and the fanatics, more collaterally, because they have assumed what amounts to an infallibility in the private spirit, and have distorted those texts of Scripture which are not necessary to salvation, to the damnable uses of sedition, disturbance, and destruction of the civil government. To begin with the papists, and to speak freely, I think them the less dangerous (at least in appearance) to our present state; for not only the penal laws are in force against them, and their number is contemptible, but also their peerage and commons are excluded from parliaments, and consequently those laws in no probability of being repealed. A general and uninterrupted plot of their clergy, ever since the Reformation, I suppose all protestants believe; for it is not reasonable to think, but that so many of their orders, as were outed from their fat possessions, would endeavour a re-entrance against those whom they account heretics.[10] As for the late design, Mr Coleman's letters, for aught I know, are the best evidence; and what they discover, without wire-drawing their sense, or malicious glosses, all men of reason conclude credible.[11] If there be any thing more than this required of me, I must believe it as well as I am able, in spite of the witnesses, and out of a decent conformity to the votes of parliament; for I suppose the fanatics will not allow the private spirit in this case. Here the infallibility is at least in one part of the government; and our understandings, as well as our wills, are represented. But, to return to the Roman Catholics, how can we be secure from the practice of jesuited papists in that religion? For not two or three of that order, as some of them would impose upon us, but almost the whole body of them, are of opinion, that their infallible master has a right over kings, not only in spirituals, but temporals. Not to name Mariana, Bellarmine, Emanuel Sa, Molina, Santarel, Simancha,[12] and at least twenty others of foreign countries, we can produce of our own nation, Campian, and Doleman or Parsons,[13] (besides many [who] are named whom I have not read,) who all of them attest this doctrine, that the pope can depose and give away the right of any sovereign prince, _si vel paulum deflexerit_, if he shall never so little warp; but if he once comes to be excommunicated, then the bond of obedience is taken off from subjects; and they may and ought to drive him, like another Nebuchadnezzar, _ex hominum Christianorum dominatu_, from exercising dominion over Christians; and to this they are bound by virtue of divine precept, and by all the ties of conscience, under no less penalty than damnation. If they answer me, (as a learned priest has lately written,) that this doctrine of the Jesuits is not _de fide_, and that consequently they are not obliged by it, they must pardon me, if I think they have said nothing to the purpose; for it is a maxim in their church, where points of faith are not decided, and that doctors are of contrary opinions, they may follow which part they please, but more safely the most received and most authorized. And their champion, Bellarmine, has told the world, in his Apology, that the king of England is a vassal to the pope, _ratione, directi dominii_,[14] and that he holds in villanage of his Roman landlord; which is no new claim put in for England: our chronicles are his authentic witnesses, that King John was deposed by the same plea, and Philip Augustus admitted tenant; and, which makes the more for Bellarmine, the French king was again ejected when our king submitted to the church, and the crown received under the sordid condition of a vassalage.

It is not sufficient for the more moderate and well-meaning papists, of which I doubt not there are many, to produce the evidences of their loyalty to the late king, and to declare their innocency in this plot. I will grant their behaviour in the first to have been as loyal and as brave as they desire; and will be willing to hold them excused as to the second, (I mean when it comes to my turn, and after my betters; for it is a madness to be sober alone, while the nation continues drunk:) but that saying of their father Cres.[15] is still running in my head,--that they may be dispensed with in their obedience to an heretic prince, while the necessity of the times shall oblige them to it; (for that, as another of them tells us, is only the effect of Christian prudence;) but when once they shall get power to shake him off, an heretic is no lawful king, and consequently to rise against him is no rebellion. I should be glad, therefore, that they would follow the advice which was charitably given them by a reverend prelate of our church, namely, that they would join in a public act of disowning and detesting those jesuitic principles, and subscribe to all doctrines which deny the pope's authority of deposing kings, and releasing subjects from their oath of allegiance; to which, I should think, they might easily be induced, if it be true, that this present pope has condemned the doctrine of king-killing; a thesis of the Jesuits, maintained, amongst others, _ex cathedra_, as they call it, or in open consistory.

Leaving them, therefore, in so fair a way, (if they please themselves,) of satisfying all reasonable men of their sincerity and good meaning to the government, I shall make bold to consider that other extreme of our religion, I mean the fanatics, or schismatics, of the English church. Since the Bible has been translated into our tongue, they have used it so, as if their business was not to be saved, but to be damned by its contents. If we consider only them, better had it been for the English nation, that it had still remained in the original Greek and Hebrew, or at least in the honest Latin of St Jerome, than that several texts in it should have been prevaricated to the destruction of that government, which put it into so ungrateful hands.

How many heresies the first translation of Tyndal[16] produced in few years, let my Lord Herbert's History of Henry the Eighth inform you; insomuch that, for the gross errors in it, and the great mischiefs it occasioned, a sentence passed on the first edition of the Bible, too shameful almost to be repeated.[17] After the short reign of Edward the Sixth, (who had continued to carry on the Reformation on other principles than it was begun,) every one knows, that not only the chief promoters of that work, but many others, whose consciences would not dispense with popery, were forced, for fear of persecution, to change climates; from whence returning at the beginning of Queen Elizabeth's reign, many of them, who had been in France, and at Geneva, brought back the rigid opinions and imperious discipline of Calvin, to graft upon our Reformation;[18] which, though they cunningly concealed at first, (as well knowing how nauseously that drug would go down in a lawful monarchy, which was prescribed for a rebellious commonwealth,) yet they always kept it in reserve; and were never wanting to themselves, either in court or parliament, when either they had any prospect of a numerous party of fanatic members in the one, or the encouragement of any favourite in the other, whose covetousness was gaping at the patrimony of the church. They who will consult the works of our venerable Hooker,[19] or the account of his life, or more particularly the letter written to him on this subject, by George Cranmer,[20] may see by what gradations they proceeded; from the dislike of cap and surplice, the very next step was admonitions to the parliament against the whole government ecclesiastical; then came out volumes in English and Latin in defence of their tenets; and immediately practices were set on foot to erect their discipline without authority. Those not succeeding, satire and railing was the next; and Martin Mar-prelate,[21] (the Marvel of those times,) was the first presbyterian scribbler, who sanctified libels and scurrility to the use of the good old cause: which was done, (says my author,) upon this account, that their serious treatises having been fully answered and refuted, they might compass by railing what they had lost by reasoning; and, when their cause was sunk in court and parliament, they might at least hedge in a stake amongst the rabble, for to their ignorance all things are wit which are abusive; but if church and state were made the theme, then the doctoral degree of wit was to be taken at Billingsgate; even the most saintlike of the party, though they durst not excuse this contempt and vilifying of the government, yet were pleased, and grinned at it with a pious smile, and called it a judgment of God against the hierarchy. Thus sectaries, we may see, were born with teeth, foul-mouthed, and scurrilous from their infancy; and if spiritual pride, venom, violence, contempt of superiors, and slander, had been the marks of orthodox belief, the presbytery, and the rest of our schismatics, which are their spawn, were always the most visible church in the Christian world.[22]

It is true, the government was too strong at that time for a rebellion; but, to shew what proficiency they had made in Calvin's school, even then their mouths watered at it; for two of their gifted brotherhood, Hacket and Coppinger, as the story tells us, got up in a pease-cart and harangued the people, to dispose them to an insurrection, and to establish their discipline by force;[23] so that, however it comes about, that now they celebrate Queen Elizabeth's birth-night, as that of their saint and patroness; yet then they were for doing the work of the Lord by arms against her;[24] and in all probability they wanted but a fanatic lord-mayor, and two sheriffs of their party, to have compassed it.[25]

Our venerable Hooker, after many admonitions which he had given them, towards the end of his preface, breaks out into this prophetic speech: "There is in every one of these considerations most just cause to fear, lest our hastiness to embrace a thing of so perilous consequence, (meaning the presbyterian discipline,) should cause posterity to feel those evils, which as yet are more easy for us to prevent, than they would be for them to remedy."

How fatally this Cassandra has foretold, we know too well by sad experience. The seeds were sown in the time of Queen Elizabeth; the bloody harvest ripened in the reign of King Charles the Martyr; and, because all the sheaves could not be carried off without shedding some of the loose grains, another crop is too like to follow; nay, I fear it is unavoidable, if the conventiclers be permitted still to scatter.

A man may be suffered to quote an adversary to our religion, when he speaks truth; and it is the observation of Maimbourg,[26] in his "History of Calvinism," that wherever that discipline was planted and embraced, rebellion, civil war, and misery, attended it. And how indeed should it happen otherwise? Reformation of church and state has always been the ground of our divisions in England. While we were papists, our Holy Father rid us, by pretending authority out of the Scriptures to depose princes; when we shook off his authority, the sectaries furnished themselves with the same weapons, and out of the same magazine, the Bible; so that the Scriptures, which are in themselves the greatest security of governors, as commanding express obedience to them, are now turned to their destruction; and never since the Reformation has there wanted a text of their interpreting to authorize a rebel. And it is to be noted by the way, that the doctrines of king-killing and deposing, which have been taken up only by the worst party of the Papists, the most frontless flatterers of the pope's authority, have been espoused, defended, and are still maintained, by the whole body of nonconformists and republicans. It is but dubbing themselves the people of God, which it is the interest of their preachers to tell them they are, and their own interest to believe, and after that, they cannot dip into the Bible, but one text or another will turn up for their purpose: if they are under persecution, as they call it, then that is a mark of their election; if they flourish, then God works miracles for their deliverance, and the saints are to possess the earth.

They may think themselves to be too roughly handled in this paper; but I, who know best how far I could have gone on this subject, must be bold to tell them, they are spared; though, at the same time, I am not ignorant, that they interpret the mildness of a writer to them, as they do the mercy of the government; in the one they think it fear, and conclude it weakness in the other. The best way for them to confute me is, as I before advised the Papists, to disclaim their principles, and renounce their practices. We shall all be glad to think them true Englishmen, when they obey the king; and true Protestants, when they conform to the church-discipline.

It remains that I acquaint the reader, that the verses were written for an ingenious young gentleman, my friend, upon his translation of "The Critical History of the Old Testament," composed by the learned father Simon:[27] the verses, therefore, are addressed to the translator of that work, and the style of them is, what it ought to be, epistolary.[28]

If any one be so lamentable a critic as to require the smoothness, the numbers, and the turn of heroic poetry in this poem, I must tell him, that if he has not read Horace, I have studied him, and hope the style of his epistles is not ill imitated here. The expressions of a poem, designed purely for instruction, ought to be plain and natural, and yet majestic; for here the poet is presumed to be a kind of lawgiver, and those three qualities, which I have named, are proper to the legislative style. The florid, elevated, and figurative way, is for the passions; for love and hatred, fear and anger, are begotten in the soul, by shewing their objects out of their true proportion, either greater than the life, or less; but instruction is to be given by shewing them what they naturally are. A man is to be cheated into passion, but to be reasoned into truth.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 8: "Whosoever will be saved, before all things it is necessary that he hold the Catholic faith.

"Which faith, except every one do keep whole and undefiled, without doubt he shall perish everlastingly.]

[Footnote 9: The controversy between Athanasius and Arius long divided the Christian church. The former was patriarch of Alexandria, and the latter bishop of Nicomedia, in Asia. The dispute regarded the godhead of the Trinity. The doctrine of Arius, that God the Son was not co-existent, consequently, not equal in dignity with God the Father, was condemned by the grand general council of Nice, and he was banished. But he was afterwards recalled by the emperor; and his heresy spread so widely, that almost all the Christian world were at one time Arians. As a test of the true orthodox doctrine, Athanasius composed the creed which goes by his name. Being written expressly for this purpose, and for the exclusive use of the Christian world, Dryden argues, with great apparent justice, that the anathema with which it is fenced, has no relation to the heathens, and that we cannot, with charity, or even logically, argue from thence concerning their state in the next world.]

[Footnote 10: "It is certain, that the restless and enterprising spirit of the Catholic church, particularly of the Jesuits, merits attention, and is, in some degree, dangerous to every other communion. Such zeal of proselytism actuates that sect, that its missionaries have penetrated into every nation of the globe, and, in one sense, there is a Popish-plot perpetually carrying on against all states, Protestant, Pagan, and Mahometan."--HUME, Vol. VII. p. 72.]

[Footnote 11: The unfortunate Edward Coleman was secretary to the Duke of York, and in high favour with his master. With the intriguing spirit of a courtier, and the zeal of a Catholic, he had long carried on a correspondence with Father La Chaise, confessor to the king of France, with the Pope's nuncio, and with other Catholics abroad, for the purpose, as he himself states it, of "the conversion of three kingdoms, and by that, perhaps, the utter subduing of a pestilent heresy, which has a long time domineered over a great part of the northern world." It would seem, from these letters, that it was the purpose of the Catholics, to begin by obtaining, if possible, a toleration, or exemption from the penal laws; and then, while strengthening themselves by new converts, to await the succession of James, or the open declaration of Charles in favour of their religion. From various points it appears, that Coleman was a better Catholic than an Englishman; and would not have hesitated to sacrifice the interests of his country to France, if, by so doing, he could have brought her faith nearer to Rome. There were also indications of both the king's and duke's accessibility to foreign influence, which were fraught with consequences highly dangerous to the country. But, while the Catholics were availing themselves of these unworthy dispositions in the royal brothers, it was quite absurd to suppose, that they should have forfeited every prospect of success, by assassinating these very persons, upon whose lives their whole plan depended, to place upon the throne the Prince of Orange, the head of the Protestant League. Yet, although not the least trace is to be found in Coleman's letters of the murders, invasions, fires, and massacres, which Oates and Bedloe bore witness to, the real and imaginary conspiracy were identified by the general prepossession of the nation; and Coleman, who undoubtedly deserved death for his unlawful and treasonable trafficking with foreign interests against the religion and liberty of his country, actually suffered for a plot which was totally chimerical.]

[Footnote 12: These are all Jesuits and controversial writers.

Mariana maintains, that it is well for princes to believe, that if they become oppressive to their people, they may be killed, not only lawfully, but most commendably.--_Institut._ pp. 61, 64. In the 6th chapter of the same work, he calls the murder of Henry III. of France by Jaques Clement, "_insignem animi confidentiam--facinus memorabile--cæso rege, ingens sibi nomen fecit_."

Bellarmine declares roundly, that all heretics are to be cut off, unless they are the stronger party, and then the Catholics must remain quiet, and wait a fitter time.--_De Laicis_, Liber III. cap. 22.

Simancha affirms, "_propter Hæresin Regis, non solum Rex regno privatur, et a communione fidelium diris proscriptionibus separatur; sed et ejus filii a regni successione pelluntur_." Suarez expressly says, "_Regem excommunicatum impune deponi vel occidi quibuscunque posse_."--Suarez in Reg. Mag. Brit. Lib. 6. cap 6. § 24.

These are sufficient examples of the doctrine laid down in the text, which, I believe, is now as much detested by Roman Catholics as by those of other religions.]

[Footnote 13: Edmund Campian, and Robert Parsons, English Jesuits, in the year 1580, obtained a bull from the Pope, declaring, that the previous bull of Pius V., deposing and excommunicating Queen Elizabeth, did forever bind the heretics, but not the Catholics, till a favourable opportunity should occur of putting it into execution. Thus armed, they came into England, their native country, for the express purpose of proclaiming the pope's right to dethrone monarchs, and that Queen Elizabeth's subjects were freed from their allegiance. Campian was hanged for preaching this doctrine, A. D. 1581. Parsons, finding England too hot for him, fled beyond seas, and settled at Rome. He published many works, both in English and Latin, against the church and state of England; one of which is, "A Conference about the next Succession of the Crown of England." printed in 1593, under the name of N. Doleman. The first part contains the doctrine concerning the right of the church to chastise kings, and proceed against them. This book the fanatics found so much to their purpose, that they reprinted it, to justify the murder of Charles I.--_Athenæ Oxon._ Vol. I. p. 358. Doleman, under whose name it was originally published, was a quiet secular priest, who abhorred such doctrines. Parsons, the real author, died at Rome in 1610.]

[Footnote 14: The _Dominium directum_ is the right of seignory competent to a feudal superior, in opposition to the _Dominium utile_, or actual possession of the lands which is held by the vassal.]

[Footnote 15: Hugh Paulin Cressy, better known by the name of Serenus Cressy, which he adopted upon entering into a religious state, was originally chaplain to the unfortunate Strafford, and afterwards to the gallant Falkland; but, having gone abroad after the civil wars, he became a convert to the Catholic faith, and a benedictine monk in the English college of Douay. After the Restoration, he returned to England, and was appointed chaplain to Queen Catherine. He was remarkable for regularity of life, unaffected piety, modest and mild behaviour. But in mystical doctrines, he was an enthusiast; and in religion, a zealot. He was the principal conductor of controversy on the part of the papists; and published many treatises against Stillingfleet, Pierce, Bagshaw, and other champions of the protestant faith. His chief work was the Church History of Brittany, from the beginning of Christianity to the Norman Conquest.--See _Athenæ; Oxon._ II. p. 528.]

[Footnote 16: The passage in Lord Herbert's history, referred to by Dryden, seems to be that which follows:

"For as the scriptures began then commonly to be read, so out of the literal sense thereof, the manner of those times was, promiscuously to draw arguments, for whatsoever in matter of state or otherwise was to be done. Insomuch, that the text which came nearest the point in question, was taken as a decision of the business; to the no little detriment of their affairs: The scriptures not pretending yet to give regular instructions in those points. But this is so much less strange, that the year preceding, the Scriptures (heretofore not permitted to the view of the people) were now translated in divers languages, and into English, by Tindal, Joy, and others, though, as not being warranted by the king's authority, they were publickly burnt, and a new and better translation promised to be set forth, and allowed to the people. It being not thought fit by our king, that under what pretence or difficulty soever, his subjects should be defrauded of that, wherein was to be found the word of God, and means of their salvation. Howbeit not a few inconveniences were observed to follow. For as the people did not sufficiently separate the more clear and necessary parts thereof, from the obscure and accessory; and as again taking the several authors to be equally inspired, they did equally apply themselves to all; they fell into many dangerous opinions: Little caring how they lived, so they understood well, bringing religion thus into much irresolution and controversie, while few men agreeing on the same interpretation of the harder places, vexed each others conscience, appropriating to themselves the gift of the spirit. Whereof the Roman church, (much perplext at first with these defections) did at last avail itself; as assuming alone the power of that decision, which yet was used more in favour of themselves, than such an analogy, as ought to be found in so perfect a book. So that few were satisfied therewith, but such as, renouncing their own judgment, and submitting to theirs, yielded themselves wholly to an implicit faith; in which, though they found an apparent ease, yet as, for justifying of themselves, the authority of their belief was derived more immediately from the church, than the scripture, not a few difficulties were introduced, concerning both: While the more speculative sort could not imagine, how to hold that as an infallible rule, which needed humane help to vindicate and support it; nevertheless, as by frequent reading of the scripture at this time, it generally appeared what the Roman church had added or altered in religion, so many recovered a just liberty, endeavouring together a reformation of the doctrine and manners of the clergy, which yet, through the obstinacy of some, succeeded worse, than so pious intentions deserved."]

[Footnote 17: William Tyndal, otherwise called Hitchens, was born on the borders of Wales, and educated at Oxford. He was one of the earliest Protestants, and so boldly maintained the doctrines of the Reformation, that he was obliged to leave England. He employed himself, while abroad, in executing a translation, first of the New Testament, and afterwards of the Pentateuch, with prologues to the different books. But as he was a zealous Lutheran, and as it had not pleased King Henry VIII. that his subjects should become Protestants, though they had ceased to be Papists, Tyndal's version of the New Testament was publickly burned, and prohibited by royal proclamation, as tending to disturb the brains of weak persons. This grossly indecorous expression was not altogether without foundation. A rule of faith, containing the most sublime doctrines both of faith and moral practice, and which had long been acknowledged the only guide to heaven, could not be exposed at once to the vulgar, who had been bred up in the grossest ignorance of its nature and contents, without dazzling and confounding them, as the beams of the sun suddenly let in upon the inmates of an obscure dungeon. It was not till the sacred Scriptures, with the expositions of judicious pastors, became a part of the regular education of the people, that their minds were duly prepared to make the proper use of that inestimable gift.

The fate of Tyndal was melancholy enough. By the influence of Henry, he was seized at Brussels; and, under pretence of his being a pragmatical incendiary, one of the first translators of the New Testament was strangled and burned, at Filford castle, about twenty miles from Antwerp, in 1536. His last words were, "Lord, open the king of England's eyes."]

[Footnote 18: Heylin says, the reformation would have rested with the first public liturgy, confirmed by act of parliament in the second and third years of Edward VI., "if Calvin's pragmatical spirit had not interposed. He first began to quarrel at some passages in this sacred liturgy, and afterwards never left soliciting the lord protector, and practising, by his agents, on the court, the country, and the universities, till he had laid the first foundation of the Zuinglian faction, who laboured nothing more than innovation both in doctrine and discipline."--_Ecclesia Restaurata._ Address to the Reader.]

[Footnote 19: The learned and judicious Richard Hooker, one of the most eminent divines of the church of England, wrote a treatise upon Ecclesiastical Policy, in which he vindicates that communion, both against the Puritans and Papists. It is in eight books; five were published during Hooker's lifetime, and the other three after his death. The last are supposed to be interpolated, as they bear some passages tending to impugn the doctrine of non-resistance, which at that time was a shibboleth of orthodoxy. Hooker died in 1600. His Life, to which Dryden refers, was written by the worthy Isaac Walton, better known as the author of the "Complete Angler;" a delightful work, where the innocent simplicity, unclouded cheerfulness, and real worth of the author, beam through every page. His Life of Hooker was published about 1662. See HAWKIN'S edition of the _Complete Angler_, Introduction, p. 19. _Athenæ Oxon._ Vol. I. p. 302.]

[Footnote 20: George Cranmer, whom Wood calls a gentleman of singular hopes, was grandson to Edmund Cranmer, arch-deacon of Canterbury, brother to Thomas the primate, who suffered martyrdom in the reign of Queen Mary. He was bred to state affairs under Secretary Davison; and after serving in various diplomatic capacities, became secretary to Lord Mountjoy, Lieutenant of Ireland. On the 13th November, 1600, Cranmer was slain in a skirmish at Carlingford between the English and the forces of Tyrone. Camden thus records his death: "_Cecidit tamen ex Anglis, præter alios, Cranmerus, Proregi ab epistolis, et ipsi eo nomine longe charissimus_." He wrote to Hooker, under whom he had studied, the letter mentioned in the text concerning the new church discipline, which is dated February 1598. It is inserted by Walton in his Life of Hooker. _Athenæ Oxon._ Vol. I. p. 306.]

[Footnote 21: John Penry, or Ap Henry, better known by the name of Martin Mar-prelate, or Mar-priest, as having been a plague to the bishops and clergy of his time. He was a native of Wales, and originally a sub-sizer of Peter-house, in Cambridge. Afterwards he obtained the degree of Master of Arts in Oxford, and, having taken orders, was for some time a regular clergyman. But being a person "full of Welch blood, of a hot and restless head," Anthony Wood tells us, he became a furious Anabaptist, and the most bitter enemy to the church of England that appeared in the long reign of Queen Elizabeth. He wrote a great number of _pestilent_ pamphlets, with burlesque titles; such as, "Oh, read over John Bridges, for it is a worthy work. Printed over sea, in Europe, within two furlongs of a bouncing Priest, at the cost of Martin Mar-prelate, gent." All his writings were filled with the most virulent invectives against the Episcopal church. At length, being apprehended, and tried for writing and publishing infamous books and libels against the established religion, he was condemned and executed at St Thomas a Watering, 29th May, 1593. Dryden compares him to Andrew Marvel, the well known opposer of the court, during the reign of Charles II.]

[Footnote 22: The court writers at this period were anxious to fix upon the presbyterians and the non-conformists in general, the anti-monarchical principles of the fanatics, who brought Charles I. to the scaffold. Their arguments may be seen at length in a book entitled, "Seditious Teachers, ungodly Preachers exemplified." These charges are carried too far; yet as the Episcopalians made church and king their watchword, the fanatics, on the contrary, in England, and the Huguenots in France, had a certain tendency to oppose monarchical government. One of their authors, as early as the reign of Queen Elizabeth, maintains, that if kings and princes refused to reform religion, the inferior magistrates or people, by direction of the ministry, might lawfully, and ought, if need required, even by force of arms, to reform it themselves.--_Whittingham's Preface to Goodman on Obedience to Superior Powers._]

[Footnote 23: The freaks of these unhappy enthusiasts may be seen in the histories of the time. Hacket, a man of some learning, had his brain turned by enthusiasm, and seduced Coppinger and Arthington, two fanatic preachers, by his example and exhortation, to sally forth into the streets of London, where he proclaimed himself to be the Messiah, and Coppinger and Arthington, his prophet of mercy, and his prophet of judgment. As they continued to utter the most horrible blasphemies, and to exhort the citizens to take arms, to further the reign of Hacket, who, they said, was come with his fan in his hand to purify the discipline of the church of England, they were seized and lodged in prison. Hacket was executed, though fitter for Bedlam, persisting to the last in the most insane blasphemy. The discipline of the prison restored Arthington to his senses, and he published a recantation, expressing great remorse for his errors. Coppinger starved himself to death in jail. This explosion of madness took place in 1591. Hacket is stated by Camden to have been a determined enemy to Queen Elizabeth, and to have stabbed her picture with his dagger.]

[Footnote 24: The birth-night of Queen Elizabeth was that which the Whigs chose to solemnize, by their grand pope-burnings and processions; considering her as the patron of the Protestant religion. Yet Queen Elizabeth was very severe against the Puritans, and passed several statutes against them.]

[Footnote 25: See the notes on "Absalom and Achitophel," Vol. IX. pages, 280, 404.]

[Footnote 26: Lewis Maimbourg, a secularized Jesuit, wrote a History of Calvinism, in which he charges upon the Huguenots the principal share of the guilt of the civil wars of France. He charges them particularly with the conspiracies of Amboise and Meaux against the crown; and alleges, it was their intention, by the assistance of England, and the Protestant states of Germany, with whom they corresponded, to establish a republic in France. His arguments are controverted in an "Apology for the Protestants of France, in six letters." London, 1683.]

[Footnote 27: Pere Richard Simon was an excellent Orientalist. He was an oratorian priest, and published, besides the work here mentioned, "A critical History of the New Testament," and a new Version of it, which was censured by Cardinal de Noailles, Archbishop of Paris, and opposed by Bossuet, the learned Bishop of Meaux. Pere Simon was an able biblical critic, an excellent scholar, and one of the most learned divines of his age.]

[Footnote 28: Derrick erroneously states this young gentleman to have been Hampden, son of the famous parliamentary leader, who was deeply engaged in the Rye-house Plot, and some years afterwards killed himself. Dryden was not likely, in the very hottest of his political controversy, to be on very intimate habits with a leader of the Whigs, much less to inscribe to him a poem, the preface of which, at least, is levelled against the most zealous of that party. Besides, the translation of Pere Simon's Critical History, which was published in 1682, bears to have been made by H. D. which initials can hardly stand for John Hampden. Mr Malone conjectures he may have been of the Digby family, or perhaps Mr Dodswell, who translated one of Plutarch's Lives, But it appears, from a poem addressed to the Translator by Duke, that his name was Henry Dickinson, probably a son of Edmund Dickinson, a physician, and author of the _Delphi Phenecizantes_, and other learned pieces. _Athenæ Oxon._ Vol. II. p. 946. There is another copy of verses, addressed to the Translator of the "Critical History" in Dryden's "Miscellanies." So that Dickinson's work seems to have attracted much notice at the time of its publication.]

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MR DRYDEN'S

RELIGIO LAICI.

Begone, you slaves, you idle vermin, go, Fly from the scourges, and your master know; Let free, impartial men from Dryden learn Mysterious secrets of high concern, And weighty truths, solid convincing sense, Explained by unaffected eloquence. What can you, Reverend Levi, here take ill? Men still had faults, and men will have them still; He that hath none, and lives as angels do, Must be an angel;--but what's that to you? While mighty Lewis finds the Pope too great, And dreads the yoke of his imposing seat, Our sects a more tyrannic power assume, And would for scorpions change the rods of Rome. That church detained the legacy divine; Fanatics cast the pearls of heaven to swine: What, then, have honest thinking men to do, But chuse a mean between the usurping two? Nor can the Egyptian patriarch blame a muse, Which for his firmness does his heat excuse; Whatever counsels have approved his creed, The preface, sure, was his own act and deed. Our church will have the preface read, you'll say:} 'Tis true, but so she will the Apocrypha; } And such as can believe them freely may. } But did that God, so little understood, Whose darling attribute is being good, From the dark womb of the rude chaos bring Such various creatures, and make man their king, Yet leave his favourite, man, his chiefest care, More wretched than the vilest insects are? O! how much happier and more safe are they, If helpless millions must be doom'd a prey To yelling furies, and for ever burn In that sad place, from whence is no return, For unbelief in one they never knew, Or for not doing what they could not do! The very fiends know for what crime they fell, And so do all their followers that rebell; If then a blind, well-meaning Indian stray, Shall the great gulph be shewed him for the way? For better ends our kind Redeemer died, Or the fallen angels' rooms will be but ill supplied. That Christ, who at the great deciding day, (For he declares what he resolves to say,) Will damn the goats for their ill-natured faults, And save the sheep for actions, not for thoughts, Hath too much mercy to send them to hell, For humble charity, and hoping well. To what stupidity are zealots grown, } Whose inhumanity, profusely shewn } In damning crowds of souls, may damn their own!} I'll err, at least, on the securer side, A convert free from malice and from pride.

ROSCOMMON.

TO

MR DRYDEN,

ON HIS POEM CALLED

RELIGIO LAICI.

Great is the task, and worthy such a muse, To do faith right, yet reason disabuse. How cheerfully the soul does take its flight On faith's strong wings, guided by reason's light? But reason does in vain her beams display, } Shewing to th' place, whence first she came, the way,} If Peter's heirs must still hold fast the key. } The house, which many mansions should contain, Formed by the great wise Architect in vain, Of disproportion justly we accuse, If the strait gate still entrance must refuse, The only free enriching port God made, } What shameful monopoly did invade? } One factious company engrossed the trade.} Thou to the distant shore hast safely sailed, Where the best pilots have so often failed. Freely we now may buy the pearl of price; } The happy land abounds with fragrant spice,} And nothing is forbidden there but vice. } Thou best Columbus to the unknown world! Mountains of doubt, that in thy way were hurled, Thy generous faith has bravely overcome, And made heaven truly our familiar home. Let crowds impossibilities receive; Who cannot think, ought not to disbelieve. Let them pay tithes, and hood-winked go to heaven; But sure the quaker could not be forgiven, Had not the clerk, who hates lay-policy, } Found out, to countervail the injury, } Swearing, a trade of which they are not free.} Too long has captive reason been enslaved, By visions scared, and airy phantasms braved, List'ning to each proud enthusiastic fool, Pretending conscience, but designing rule; Whilst law, form, interest, ignorance, design, Did in the holy cheat together join. Like vain astrologers, gazing on the skies, We fall, and did not dare to trust our eyes. 'Tis time at last to fix the trembling soul, And by thy compass to point out the pole; All men agree in what is to be done, And each man's heart his table is of stone, Where he the god-writ character may view; Were it as needful, faith had been so too. Oh, that our greatest fault were humble doubt, And that we were more just, though less devout! What reverence should we pay thy sacred rhymes, Who, in those factious too-believing times, Has taught us to obey, and to distrust; Yet, to ourselves, our king, and God, prove just. Thou want'st not praise from an insuring friend; The poor to thee on double interest lend. So strong thy reasons, and so clear thy sense, They bring, like day, their own bright evidence; Yet, whilst mysterious truths to light you bring,} And heavenly things in heavenly numbers sing, } The joyful younger choir may clap the wing. }

TO

MR DRYDEN,

ON

RELIGIO LAICI.

'Tis nobly done, a layman's creed profest, When all our faith of late hung on a priest; His doubtful words, like oracles received, And, when we could not understand, believed. Triumphant faith now takes a nobler course, Tis gentle, but resists intruding force. Weak reason may pretend an awful sway, And consistories charge her to obey; (Strange nonsense, to confine the sacred Dove,} And narrow rules prescribe how he shall love, } And how upon the barren waters move.) } But she rejects and scorns their proud pretence, And, whilst those grovling things depend on sense, She mounts on certain wings, and flies on high,} And looks upon a dazzling mystery, } With fixed, and steady, and an eagle's eye. } Great king of verse, that dost instruct and please, As Orpheus softened the rude savages; And gently freest us from a double care, The bold Socinian, and the papal chair: Thy judgment is correct, thy fancy young, Thy numbers, as thy generous faith, are strong: Whilst through dark prejudice they force their way, Our souls shake off the night, and view the day. We live secure from mad enthusiasts' rage, And fond tradition, now grown blind with age. Let factious and ambitious souls repine, } Thy reason's strong, and generous thy design;} And always to do well is only thine. }

THO. CREECH.

RELIGIO LAICI.

Dim as the borrowed beams of moon and stars To lonely, weary, wandering travellers, Is reason to the soul: and as, on high, Those rolling fires discover but the sky, Not light us here; so reason's glimmering ray} Was lent, not to assure our doubtful way, } But guide us upward to a better day. } And as those nightly tapers disappear, When day's bright lord ascends our hemisphere; So pale grows reason at religion's sight, So dies, and so dissolves in supernatural light. Some few, whose lamp shone brighter, have been led From cause to cause, to nature's sacred head, And found that one First Principle must be: But what, or who, that universal He; Whether some soul encompassing this ball, Unmade, unmoved; yet making, moving all; Or various atoms' interfering dance Leaped into form, the noble work of chance; Or this great All was from eternity,-- } Not even the Stagyrite himself could see,} And Epicurus guessed as well as he. } As blindly groped they for a future state, As rashly judged of providence and fate; But least of all could their endeavours find What most concerned the good of human kind; For happiness was never to be found, But vanished from them like enchanted ground.[29] One thought content the good to be enjoyed; This every little accident destroyed: The wiser madmen did for virtue toil, A thorny, or, at best, a barren soil: In pleasure some their glutton souls would steep; } But found their line too short, the well too deep,} And leaky vessels which no bliss could keep. } Thus anxious thoughts in endless circles roll, Without a centre where to fix the soul: In this wild maze their vain endeavours end:-- How can the less the greater comprehend? Or finite reason reach infinity? For what could fathom God were more than he. The Deist thinks he stands on firmer ground; Cries [Greek: eureka]! the mighty secret's found: God is that spring of good, supreme and best, We made to serve, and in that service blest; If so, some rules of worship must be given, Distributed alike to all by heaven; Else God were partial, and to some denied The means his justice should for all provide. This general worship is to praise and pray; One part to borrow blessings, one to pay; And when frail nature slides into offence, The sacrifice for crimes is penitence. Yet since the effects of providence, we find, Are variously dispensed to human kind; That vice triumphs, and virtue suffers here, A brand that sovereign justice cannot bear; Our reason prompts us to a future state, The last appeal from fortune and from fate, Where God's all righteous ways will be declared; The bad meet punishment, the good reward. Thus man by his own strength to heaven would soar, And would not be obliged to God for more. Vain wretched creature, how art thou misled, To think thy wit these god-like notions bred! These truths are not the product of thy mind, But dropt from heaven, and of a nobler kind. Revealed religion first informed thy sight, And reason saw not till faith sprung the light. Hence all thy natural worship takes the source; 'Tis revelation what thou think'st discourse. Else how com'st thou to see these truths so clear, Which so obscure to heathens did appear? Not Plato these, nor Aristotle found, Nor he whose wisdom oracles renowned. Hast thou a wit so deep, or so sublime, Or canst thou lower dive, or higher climb? Canst thou by reason more of godhead know Than Plutarch, Seneca, or Cicero? Those giant wits, in happier ages born, When arms and arts did Greece and Rome adorn, Knew no such system; no such piles could raise Of natural worship, built on prayer and praise To one sole God; Nor did remorse to expiate sin prescribe, But slew their fellow-creatures for a bribe: The guiltless victim groaned for their offence, And cruelty and blood was penitence. If sheep and oxen could atone for men, Ah! at how cheap a rate the rich might sin! And great oppressors might heaven's wrath beguile, By offering his own creatures for a spoil! Darest thou, poor worm, offend Infinity? And must the terms of peace be given by thee? Then thou art justice in the last appeal; Thy easy God instructs thee to rebel; And, like a king remote and weak, must take What satisfaction thou art pleased to make. But if there be a Power too just and strong, To wink at crimes, and bear unpunished wrong; Look humbly upward, see his will disclose The forfeit first, and then the fine impose; A mulct thy poverty could never pay, Had not Eternal Wisdom found the way, And with celestial wealth supplied thy store; His justice makes the fine, his mercy quits the score. See God descending in thy human frame; The offended suffering in the offender's name; All thy misdeeds to him imputed see, And all his righteousness devolved on thee. For, granting we have sinned, and that the offence Of man is made against Omnipotence, Some price that bears proportion must be paid. And infinite with infinite be weighed. See then the Deist lost: remorse for vice Not paid, or paid inadequate in price: What farther means can reason now direct, Or what relief from human wit expect? That shews us sick; and sadly are we sure Still to be sick, till heaven reveal the cure: If then heaven's will must needs be understood, Which must, if we want cure, and heaven be good, Let all records of will revealed be shown; With scripture all in equal balance thrown, And our one sacred Book will be that one. Proof needs not here; for, whether we compare That impious, idle, superstitious ware Of rites, lustrations, offerings, which before, In various ages, various countries bore, With christian faith and virtues, we shall find None answering the great ends of human kind, But this one rule of life; that shews us best How God may be appeased, and mortals blest. Whether from length of time its worth we draw, The word is scarce more ancient than the law: Heaven's early care prescribed for every age; First, in the soul, and after, in the page. Or, whether more abstractedly we look, Or on the writers, or the written book, Whence, but from heaven, could men unskilled in arts, In several ages born, in several parts, Weave such agreeing truths? or how, or why Should all conspire to cheat us with a lie? Unasked their pains, ungrateful their advice, Starving their gain, and martyrdom their price. If on the book itself we cast our view, Concurrent heathens prove the story true: The doctrine, miracles; which must convince, For heaven in them appeals to human sense; And, though they prove not, they confirm the cause, When what is taught agrees with nature's laws. Then for the style, majestic and divine, It speaks no less than God in every line; Commanding words, whose force is still the same As the first fiat that produced our frame. All faiths, beside, or did by arms ascend, Or sense indulged has made mankind their friend; This only doctrine does our lusts oppose, Unfed by nature's soil, in which it grows; Cross to our interests, curbing sense, and sin; Oppressed without, and undermined within, It thrives through pain; it's own tormentors tires, And with a stubborn patience still aspires. To what can reason such effects assign, Transcending nature, but to laws divine? Which in that sacred volume are contained, Sufficient, clear, and for that use ordained. But stay: the Deist here will urge anew, No supernatural worship can be true; Because a general law is that alone Which must to all, and every where, be known; A style so large as not this book can claim, Nor aught that bears revealed religion's name. 'Tis said, the sound of a Messiah's birth Is gone through all the habitable earth; But still that text must be confined alone To what was then inhabited, and known: And what provision could from thence accrue To Indian souls, and worlds discovered new? In other parts it helps, that, ages past, The scriptures there were known, and were embraced, Till sin spread once again the shades of night: What's that to these who never saw the light? Of all objections this indeed is chief, To startle reason, stagger frail belief: We grant, 'tis true, that heaven from human sense Has hid the secrets paths of providence; But boundless wisdom, boundless mercy, may Find even for those bewildered souls a way. If from his nature foes may pity claim, Much more may strangers, who ne'er heard his name; And, though no name be for salvation known, But that of his eternal sons[30] alone; Who knows how far transcending goodness can Extend the merits of that son to man? Who knows what reasons may his mercy lead, Or ignorance invincible may plead? Not only charity bids hope the best, But more the great apostle has exprest: That, if the Gentiles, whom no law inspired, By nature did what was by law required; 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 conscience be condemned or freed. Most righteous doom! because a rule revealed Is none to those from whom it was concealed. Then those, who followed reason's dictates right, Lived up, and lifted high their natural light, With Socrates may see their Maker's face, While thousand rubric-martyrs want a place. Nor does it baulk my charity, to find The Egyptian bishop of another mind; For, though his creed eternal truth contains, 'Tis hard for man to doom to endless pains All, who believed not all his zeal required; Unless he first could prove he was inspired. Then let us either think he meant to say, This faith, where published, was the only way; Or else conclude, that, Arius to confute, The good old man, too eager in dispute, Flew high; and, as his christian fury rose, Damned all for heretics who durst oppose. Thus far my charity this path has tried; A much unskilful, but well-meaning guide: Yet what they are, even these crude thoughts were bred By reading that which better thou hast read; Thy matchless author's work, which thou, my friend, By well translating better dost commend;[31] Those youthful hours which, of thy equals, most In toys have squandered, or in vice have lost, Those hours hast thou to nobler use employed, And the severe delights of truth enjoyed. Witness this weighty book, in which appears The crabbed toil of many thoughtful years, Spent by thy author, in the sifting care Of rabbins' old sophisticated ware From gold divine; which he who well can sort May afterwards make algebra a sport; A treasure which, if country-curates buy, They Junius and Tremellius may defy;[32] Save pains in various readings and translations, And without Hebrew make most learned quotations; A work so full with various learning fraught, So nicely pondered, yet so strongly wrought, As nature's height and art's last hand required; As much as man could compass, uninspired; Where we may see what errors have been made Both in the copiers' and translators' trade; How Jewish, Popish, interests have prevailed, And where infallibility has failed. For some, who have his secret meaning guessed, Have found our author not too much a priest; For fashion-sake he seems to have recourse To pope, and councils, and traditions' force; But he that old traditions' could subdue, Could not but find the weakness of the new: If scripture, though derived from heavenly birth, Has been but carelessly preserved on earth; If God's own people, who of God before Knew what we know, and had been promised more, In fuller terms, of heaven's assisting care, And who did neither time nor study spare To keep this book untainted, unperplext, Let in gross errors to corrupt the text, Omitted paragraphs, embroiled the sense, With vain traditions stopt the gaping fence, Which every common hand pulled up with ease,-- What safety from such brushwood-helps as these? If written words from time are not secure, How can we think have oral sounds endured? Which thus transmitted, if one mouth has failed, Immortal lies on ages are entailed; And that some such have been, is proved too plain, If we consider interest, church, and gain. O but, says one, tradition set side, Where can we hope for an unerring guide? For, since the original scripture has been lost, All copies disagreeing, maimed the most, Or Christian faith can have no certain ground, Or truth in church-tradition must be found. Such an omniscient church we wish indeed; 'Twere worth both Testaments, cast in the Creed: But if this mother be a guide so sure, As can all doubts resolve, all truth secure, Then her infallibility as well Where copies are corrupt or lame can tell; Restore lost canon with as little pains, As truly explicate what still remains; Which yet no council dare pretend to do, } Unless, like Esdras, they could write it new;} Strange confidence still to interpret true, } Yet not be sure that all they have explained, Is in the blest original contained. More safe, and much more modest 'tis, to say God would not leave mankind without a way; And that the scriptures, though not every where Free from corruption, or entire, or clear, Are uncorrupt, sufficient, 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 salvation must its doom receive, Not from what others, but what I believe. Must all tradition then be set aside? This to affirm were ignorance or pride. Are there not many points, some needful sure To saving faith, that scripture leaves obscure? Which every sect will wrest a several way, For what one sect interprets, all sects may; We hold, and say we prove from scripture plain,} That Christ is God; the bold Socinian } From the same scripture urges he's but man.[33] } Now what appeal can end the important suit? Both parts talk loudly, but the rule is mute. Shall I speak plain, and, in a nation free, Assume an honest layman's liberty? I think, according to my little skill, To my own mother-church submitting still, That many have been saved, and many may, Who never heard this question brought in play. The unlettered Christian, who believes in gross, Plods on to heaven, and ne'er is at a loss; For the strait gate would be made straiter yet, Were none admitted there but men of wit. The few by nature formed, with learning fraught, Born to instruct, as others to be taught, Must study well the sacred page; and see Which doctrine, this or that, does best agree With the whole tenor of the work divine, And plainliest points to heaven's revealed design; Which exposition flows from genuine sense, And which is forced by wit and eloquence. Not that tradition's parts are useless here, When general, old, disinterested, and clear; That ancient fathers thus expound the page, Gives truth the reverend majesty of age; Confirms its force by bideing every test; For best authorities, next rules, are best; And still the nearer to the spring we go, More limpid, more unsoiled, the waters flow. Thus, first, traditions were a proof alone; Could we be certain, such they were, so known; But since some flaws in long descent may be, They make not truth, but probability. Even Arius and Pelagius durst provoke To what the centuries preceding spoke:[34] Such difference is there in an oft-told tale; But truth by its own sinews will prevail. Tradition written, therefore, more commends Authority, than what from voice descends; And this, as perfect as its kind can be, Rolls down to us the sacred history; Which from the universal church received, Is tried, and, after, for itself believed. The partial Papists would infer from hence, Their church, in last resort, should judge the sense. But first they would assume, with wonderous 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 A right to 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 every man designed; The welcome news is in the letter found; The carrier's not commissioned 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, A gainful trade their clergy did advance; When want of learning kept the laymen low, And none but priests were authorized 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 parcelled out the Bible by retail; But still expounded what she sold or gave, To keep it in her power to damn and save. Scripture was scarce, and, as the market went, Poor laymen took salvation 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 false conveyances they made, The lawyer still was certain to be paid. In those dark times they learned their knack so well, That by long use they grew infallible. At last, a knowing age began to enquire If they the book, or that did them inspire; And, making narrower search, they found, though late, That what they thought the priest's, was their estate; Taught by the will produced, the written word, How long they had been cheated on record. Then every man, who saw the title fair, Claimed a child's part, and put in for a share; Consulted soberly his private good, And saved himself as cheap as e'er he could. 'Tis true, my friend,--and far be flattery hence,-- This good had full as bad a consequence; The book thus put in every vulgar hand, Which each presumed 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 galled, And he was gifted most, that loudest bawled; The spirit 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 still be itching to expound; Each was ambitious of the obscurest place, No measure ta'en from knowledge, all from grace. Study and pains were now no more their care; Texts were explained by fasting and by prayer: This was the fruit the private spirit brought, Occasioned by great zeal and little thought. While crowds unlearned, 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.[35] A thousand daily sects rise up and die; A thousand more the perished race supply; So all we make of heaven's discovered will, Is not to have it, or to use it ill. The danger's much the same; on several 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 power to know? 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 every man will make himself a creed, In doubtful questions 'tis the safest way To learn what unsuspected antients say; For 'tis not likely we should higher soar In search of heaven, than all the church before; Nor can we be deceived, 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 unpolished 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 serve.[36]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 29: The author applies the same simile to the use of rhyme in tragedy;

Passion's too fierce to be in fetters bound, And nature flies him like enchanted ground.

_Prologue to Aureng-Zebe._ ]

[Footnote 30: All the editions read _Sons_, which seems to make a double genitive, unless we construe the line to mean, "the name of his Eternal Son's salvation." I own I should have been glad to have found an authority for reading _Son_.]

[Footnote 31: Simon's Critical History of the Old Testament, translated by the young gentleman to whom the poem is addressed.--See Preface.]

[Footnote 32: Calvinistic divines, who made translations of the Scripture, with commentaries, on which Pere Simon makes learned criticisms.]

[Footnote 33: The Socinians, or followers of Lelius Socinius, denied the doctrine of the Trinity and of Redemption. The modern Unitarians have embraced some of the principles of this sect.]

[Footnote 34: The founders of two noted heresies, who, nevertheless, as the poet observes, ventured to appeal to the traditions of the church in support of their doctrines.]

[Footnote 35: Perhaps this idea is borrowed from "Hudibras:"

The learned write, an insect breeze Is but a mongrel prince of bees, That falls before a storm on cows, And stings the founders of his house, From whose corrupted flesh, that breed Of vermin did at first proceed. So, ere the storm of war broke out, Religion spawned a various rout Of petulant capricious sects, The maggots of corrupted texts, That first run all religion down, And after every swarm its own.

_Hudibras_, Part III. canto 2. ]

[Footnote 36: The famous Tom Brown is pleased to droll on this association of persons; being a part of the punishment which he says the laureat inflicted on Shadwell for presuming to dispute his theatrical infallibility. "But, gentlemen, when I had thus, in the plenitude of my power, issued out the above-mentioned decretal epistles, you cannot imagine what abundance of adversaries I created myself: some were for appealing to a free unbiassed synod of impartial authors; others were for suing out a _quo warranto_, to examine the validity of my charter. Not to mention those of higher quality, I was immediatly set upon by the fierce Elkanah, the Empress of Morocco's agent, who at that time commanded a party of Moorish horse, in order to raise the siege of Grenada; and a fat old gouty gentleman, commonly called the King of Basan, who had almost devoured the stage with free quarter for his men of wit and humourists. But I countermined all their designs against my crown and person in a moment; for I presently got the one to be dressed up in a sanbenit, under the unsanctified name of Doeg; the other I coupled myself with his namesake Tom Sternhold. Being thus degraded from their poetical functions, and become incapable of crowning princes, raising ghosts, and offering any more incense of flattery to the living and the dead, I delivered them over to the secular arm, to be chastised by the furious dapper-wits of the Inns of Court, and the young critics of the university. Furthermore, to prevent all infection of their errors, I directed my monitory letters to the Sieur Batterton, advising him to keep no correspondence, either directly or indirectly, with those aforesaid apostates from sense and reason; adding, that in case of neglect, I would certainly put the theatre under an interdict, send a troop of dragoons from Drury-Lane to demolish his garrison in Salisbury-court, and absolve all his subjects, even to the sub-deacons and acolythes of the stage, his trusty door-keepers and candle-lighters, from their oaths of fealty and allegiance." _Reasons for Mr Bayes' changing his Religion._]

THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS:

A

FUNERAL PINDARIC POEM,

SACRED TO THE

HAPPY MEMORY OF

KING CHARLES II.

_Fortunati ambo si quid mea carmina possunt, Nulla dies unquam memori vos eximet ævo!_

THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.

The death of Charles II. was sudden and unexpected. After he had apparently completely subdued the popular party, and was preparing, as has been confidently alleged, a similar conquest over the high-flying followers of the Duke of York, in the midst of his present triumph and future projects, he was, on the morning of the 2d February, 1684-5, seized with a sudden fit, which resembled an apoplexy. He was bled by one King, a chemist, who happened to be in waiting, and experienced a temporary relief. From the 2d till the 6th, he continued in a languishing state, the Duke of York being in constant attendance on his death-bed. On the forenoon of the 6th, Charles died, to the general grief of his subjects, by whom he was personally beloved, and who had reason to fear, that his worst public measures would be followed out with more rigour by his successor.

A numerous host of rhymers stepped forward with their condolences upon this event.[37] Among these, we find few eminent names besides that of Dryden. Otway, indeed, has left a poem on the subject, called "Windsor Castle;" and he began a pastoral, which, fortunately for his reputation, he left unfinished.[38] From the laureat a deeper tone of lamentation was due. But whether the sense of discharging a task, a sense so chilling always to poetical imagination, had fettered Dryden's powers, or from whatever other reason, his funeral pindaric has not been esteemed one of his happiest lyric effusions. It is devoid of any appearance of deep feeling on the part of the author himself. This is the more remarkable, as the manners of Charles were eminently calculated to attract affection, and Dryden had been admitted to a greater share of royal intercourse than is usually necessary to excite the personal attachment of a subject to a condescending monarch. But whether Dryden, as he is sometimes believed to have owned, was unapt to feel or express the more tender passions, or whether he saw the character of Charles so closely, as to discern the selfishness of his hollow courtesy, it is certain that the poet seems wonderfully little interested in the sorrowful theme. Even when he mentions his literary intercourse with the deceased monarch, he does not suppress a murmur, that he was niggard in rewarding the muses whom he loved; that

----little was their hire, and light their gain.

This absence of personal feeling on the part of the author, spreads a coldness over the whole elegy; which we regret the less, as the pensioned monarch ill deserved a deeper lamentation. It is chiefly owing to this want of sympathy, connected with an over indulgence in conceit, a fault which immediately flows from the other, being an effort of ingenuity to supply the want of passion, that the "Threnodia Augustalis" has been neglected. We have to lament some overstrained metaphors and similes. The sun went back _ten_ degrees in the dial of Ahaz; a miraculous sign that Hezekiah was to live; and this is compared to the _five_ days during which the disease of Charles gained ground, until it was obvious that he was to die. The prayers of the people carrying heaven by storm, and almost forcing heaven to revoke his decrees, is extravagant, not to say profane. Yet, with all its faults of coldness and conceit, this poem seems rather to have been under-rated. It appears to great advantage, when compared with others on the same subject. Otway, who affects a warmer display of passion, a particular in which Dryden is said to have acknowledged his superiority, has fallen into the opposite fault, of describing the death-bed rather of a tender husband or lover, attended by his wife or mistress, than that of a king waited on by his successor.[39] Dryden's picture of the duke's grief is much more appropriate and striking:

Horror in all his pomp was there, Mute and magnificent, without a tear.

The joy of the people upon the fallacious prospect of the king's recovery, is also a striking picture:

Men met each other with erected look; The steps were higher that they took; Friends to congratulate their friends made haste, And long inveterate foes saluted as they past.

There are many other fine passages in the "Threnodia;" though the general effect is less impressive than might have been expected. The description in the thirteenth stanza, for example, of the effects on poetry and literature produced by the Restoration, and that of the return of liberty,

Without whose charms even peace would be But a dull quiet slavery,

are both striking.--The character of Charles; his wit, parts, and powers of conversation; his gentle manners, and firmness of disposition, which, like a well-wrought blade, kept, even in yielding, the native toughness of the steel,--are all themes of panegyric, which, though perhaps exaggerated, are well-chosen, and exquisitely brought out. It is indeed a peculiar attribute of Dryden's praise, that it is always appropriate; while the gross adulation of his contemporaries gave indiscriminately the same broad features to all their subjects, and thereby very often converted their intended panegyric into satire, not the less bitter because undesigned. Dryden, for instance, in this whole poem has never once mentioned the queen; sensible that the gaiety of Charles' life, and his frequent amours, rendered her conjugal grief, which some of the elegiasts chose to describe in terms approaching to blasphemy, an apocryphal, as well as a delicate theme.[40] He knew, that praise, to do honour to the giver and receiver, must either have a real foundation in desert, or at least what, by the skilful management of the poet, may be easily represented as such.

Having discussed the melancholy part of his subject, the poet, according to the approved custom in such cases, finds cause for rejoicing in the succession of James, as he had mourned over the death of his predecessor. From his firmness of character, and supposed military talents, the poet prophesies a warlike and victorious reign: a sad instance how seldom the poetic and prophetic character, so often claimed, are united in the same individual! for James, as is well known, far from conquering foreign kingdoms, did not draw the sword even to defend his own. But very different events were expected, and augured, by the shoal of versifiers, who now rushed forwards to gratulate his accession.[41]

The pindaric measure, in which the "Threnodia Augustalis" is written, contains nothing pleasing to modern ears. The rhymes are occasionally so far disjoined, that, like a fashionable married couple, they have nothing of union but the name. The inequalities of the verse are also violent, and remind us of ascending a broken and unequal stair-case. But the age had been accustomed to this rythm, which, however improperly, was considered as a genuine imitation of the style of Pindar. It must also be owned, that wherever, for a little way, Dryden uses a more regular measure, he displays all his usual command of harmony. The thirteenth stanza, for example, is as happily distinguished by melody of rhyme, as we have already observed it is eminent in beauty of poetry.

The Latin title of this poem, like that of the _Religio Laici_, savours somewhat of affectation; and has been taxed by Johnson as not strictly classical, a more unpardonable fault.[42]

My learned friend, Dr Adam, has favoured me with the following defence of Dryden's phrase: "With respect to the title which that great poet gives to his elegy on the death of Charles, making allowance for the taste of the times and the licence of poets in framing names, I see no just foundation for Johnson's criticism on the epithet _Augustalis_. _Threnodia_ is a word purely Greek, used by no Latin author; and _Augustalis_ denotes, 'in honour of Augustus;' thus, _ludi Augustales_, games instituted in honour of Augustis, _Tac. An._ 1, 15 and 54; so _sacerdotes_ vel _sodales Augustales_, ib. and 2, 83. Hist. 2, 95. Now as _Augustus_ was a name given to the succeeding emperors, I see no reason, why _Augustalis_ may not be used to signify, 'in honour of any king.' Besides, the very word _Augustus_ denotes, 'venerable, august, royal:' and therefore _Threnodia Augustalis_ may properly be put for, 'An Elegy in honour of an august Prince."

The full title declared the poem to be written "by John Dryden, servant to his late majesty, and to the present king;" a style which our author did not generally assume, but which the occasion rendered peculiarly proper. The poem appears to have been popular, as it went through two editions in the course of 1685.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 37: The following Nœnia, among others, occur in Mr Luttrell's Collection:

"A Pindarick Ode, by Sir F. F. Knight of the Bath."

"A Pindarick Ode on the Death of our late Sovereign, with an ancient Prophecy on his present Majesty, by Afra Behn."

"A Poem, humbly dedicated to the Great Pattern of Piety and Virtue, Catherine, Queen Dowager, on the Death of her dear Lord and Husband, King Charles II. By the Same. (4th April, 1685.)"

"The Vision, a Pindarick Ode, by Edmund Arwaker, M. A."

"The Second Part of Ditto, on the Coronation of James and Mary." This author poured forth a similar effusion upon the death of Queen Mary.

"A Pindarick Ode on the Death of Charles II, by J. H."

"Ireland's Tears to the sacred Memory of our late Dread Sovereign, King Charles II., 11th April, 1685."

"_Pietas universitatis Oxoniensis in obitum augustissimi et desideratissimi Regis Caroli Secundi._"

Duke, and others, also invoked Melpomene on this mournful occasion: but, perhaps, the most remarkable of all these lamentations is, "The Quaker's Elegy on the Death of Charles, late King of England, written by W. P. a sincere lover of Charles and James; (31st March, 1685.)" "Tears wiped off, a Second Part, on the Coronation, (22d April.)" This curious dirge begins thus:

What wondrous change in waking do I find, For a strange something does my sense unbind; Truth has possessed my darkened soul all o'er With an unusual light, not known before; And doth inform me, that some star is gone, From whose kind influence we had life alone. No sooner had this stranger seized my soul, But Rachel knocked, to raise me from my bed, And, with a voice of sorrow, did condole The loss of Charles, whom she declared was dead; Charles dost thou mean we King of England call, That lived within the mansion of Whitehall? Yes--'tis too true, &c. ]

[Footnote 38: "Windsor Castle, in a monument to our late, sovereign, King Charles II.," contains some striking passages. But, for the tenuity of the pastoral, even the taste of the age can hardly excuse the author of "Venice Preserved." For example:

Ye tender lambs, stray not so fast away; To weep and mourn, let us together stay; O'er all the universe let it be spread, That now the shepherd of the flock is dead; The royal Pan, that shepherd of the sheep, He, who to leave his flock did dying weep, Is gone! Ah! gone, ne'er to return from death's eternal sleep. ]

[Footnote 39: We shall here insert the last meeting of the royal brothers, as described in "Windsor Castle," which the reader may contrast with the same theme in the "Threnodia:"

Here, painter, if thou can'st, thy art improve, And show the wonders of fraternal love; How mourning James by fading Charles did stand, The dying grasping the surviving hand; How round each others necks their arms they cast, Moaned, with endearing murmurings, and embraced; And of their parting pangs such marks did give, 'Twere hard to guess which yet could longest live. Both their sad tongues quite lost the power to speak, And their kind hearts seemed both prepared to break. ]

[Footnote 40: Perhaps the most extraordinary instance of flattery, wrought up to impiety, occurs in Mrs Behn's address to the queen on the death of her husband:

Methinks I see you like the queen of heaven, To whom all patience and all grace was given; When the great lord of life himself was laid Upon her lap, all wounded, pale, and dead; Transpierced with anguish, even to death transformed, So she bewailed her god, so sighed, so mourned, So his blest image in her heart remained, So his blest memory o'er her soul still reigned; She lived the sacred victim to deplore, And never knew, or wished a pleasure more. ]

[Footnote 41: These are even more numerous than the Elegiasts on Charles's death. In the Luttrell Collection there are the following rare pieces.

"_Panegyris Jacobi serenissimi, &c. regi ipso die inaugurationis._"

"A Poem on Do. by R. Philips."

"On Do. by a Young Gentleman."

"A Panegyrick on Do. by the Author of the Plea for Succession."

"A New Song on Do."

"A Poem on Do. by John Philips."

"A Poem upon the Coronation, by J. Baber, Esq."

"A Pindarique to their Sacred Majesties on their Coronation."

"A Poem on Do. by R. Mansell, Gent."

"A Panegyrick on Do. by Peter Ker;" with whose rapturous invitation to the ships to strand themselves for joy, we shall conclude the list:

Let subjects sing, bells ring, and cannons roar; And every ship come dancing to the shore. ]

[Footnote 42: Dryden, perhaps, recollected the poem of Fitzpayne Fisher on Cromwell's death, entitled, _Threnodia Triumphalis in obitum serenissimi Nostri Principis Olivari, Angliæ Scotiæ Hiberniœ cum dominationibus ubicunque jacentibus Nuperi protectoris, (Qui obiit. Septemb. 3tio.) Ubi stupendæ passim victoriæ, et incredibiles domi forasque successus, Heroico carmine, succinctim perstringuntur. Per Fitzpaynæum Piscatorem. Londini, 1658._]

THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.

I.

Thus long my grief has kept me dumb: Sure there's a lethargy in mighty woe, Tears stand congealed, and cannot flow; And the sad soul retires into her inmost room: Tears, for a stroke foreseen, afford relief; But, unprovided for a sudden blow, Like Niobe, we marble grow, And petrify with grief. Our British heaven was all serene, No threatening cloud was nigh, Not the least wrinkle to deform the sky; We lived as unconcerned and happily As the first age in nature's golden scene; Supine amidst our flowing store, We slept securely, and we dreamt of more; When suddenly the thunder-clap was heard, It took us, unprepared, and out of guard, Already lost before we feared. The amazing news of Charles at once were spread, At once the general voice declared, "Our gracious prince was dead." No sickness known before, no slow disease, To soften grief by just degrees; But, like an hurricane on Indian seas, The tempest rose; An unexpected burst of woes,[43] With scarce a breathing space betwixt, This now becalmed, and perishing the next. As if great Atlas from his height Should sink beneath his heavenly weight, And, with a mighty flaw, the flaming wall, As once it shall, Should gape immense, and, rushing down, o'erwhelm this nether ball; So swift and so surprising was our fear: Our Atlas fell indeed; but Hercules was near.[44]

II.

His pious brother, sure the best Who ever bore that name, Was newly risen from his rest, And, with a fervent flame, His usual morning vows had just addrest, For his dear sovereign's health; And hoped to have them heard, In long increase of years, In honour, fame, and wealth: Guiltless of greatness, thus he always prayed, Nor knew nor wished those vows he made, On his own head should be repaid. Soon as the ill-omen'd rumour reached his ear, (Ill news is winged with fate, and flies apace,) Who can describe the amazement of his face! Horror in all his pomp was there, Mute and magnificent, without a tear; And then the hero first was seen to fear. Half unarrayed he ran to his relief, So hasty and so artless was his grief: Approaching greatness met him with her charms Of power and future state; But looked so ghastly in a brother's fate, He shook her from his arms. Arrived within the mournful room, he saw A wild distraction, void of awe, And arbitrary grief unbounded by a law. God's image, God's anointed, lay Without motion, pulse, or breath, A senseless lump of sacred clay, An image now of death, Amidst his sad attendants' groans and cries, The lines of that adored forgiving face, Distorted from their native grace; An iron slumber sat on his majestic eyes. The pious duke--Forbear, audacious muse! No terms thy feeble art can use Are able to adorn so vast a woe: The grief of all the rest like subject-grief did show, His, like a sovereign's, did transcend; No wife, no brother, such a grief could know, Nor any name but friend.

III.

O wondrous changes of a fatal scene, Still varying to the last! Heaven, though its hard decree was past, Seemed pointing to a gracious turn again: And death's uplifted arm arrested in its haste. Heaven half repented of the doom, And almost grieved it had foreseen, What by foresight it willed eternally to come. Mercy above did hourly plead For her resemblance here below; And mild forgiveness intercede To stop the coming blow. New miracles approached the etherial throne, Such as his wonderous life had oft and lately known, And urged that still they might be shown. On earth his pious brother prayed and vowed, Renouncing greatness at so dear a rate, Himself defending what he could, From all the glories of his future fate. With him the innumerable crowd Of armed prayers Knocked at the gates of heaven, and knocked aloud; The first well-meaning rude petitioners.[45] All for his life assailed the throne, All would have bribed the skies by offering up their own. So great a throng, not heaven itself could bar; 'Twas almost borne by force, as in the giants' war. The prayers, at least, for his reprieve were heard; His death, like Hezekiah's, was deferred: Against the sun the shadow went; Five days, those five degrees, were lent, To form our patience, and prepare the event.[46] The second causes took the swift command, The medicinal head, the ready hand, All eager to perform their part;[47] All but eternal doom was conquered by their art: Once more the fleeting soul came back To inspire the mortal frame; And in the body took a doubtful stand, Doubtful and hovering, like expiring flame, That mounts and falls by turns, and trembles o'er the brand.

IV.

The joyful short-lived news soon spread around,[48] Took the same train, the same impetuous bound: The drooping town in smiles again was drest, Gladness in every face exprest, Their eyes before their tongues confest. Men met each other with erected look, The steps were higher that they took; Friends to congratulate their friends made haste, And long inveterate foes saluted as they past. Above the rest heroic James appeared, Exalted more, because he more had feared. His manly heart, whose noble pride Was still above Dissembled hate, or varnished love, Its more than common transport could not hide; But like an eagre[49] rode in triumph o'er the tide. Thus, in alternate course, The tyrant passions, hope and fear, Did in extremes appear, And flashed upon the soul with equal force. Thus, at half ebb, a rolling sea Returns, and wins upon the shore; The watery herd, affrighted at the roar, Rest on their fins awhile, and stay, Then backward take their wondering way: The prophet wonders more than they, At prodigies but rarely seen before, And cries,--a king must fall, or kingdoms change their sway. Such were our counter-tides at land, and so Presaging of the fatal blow, In their prodigious ebb and flow. The royal soul, that, like the labouring moon, By charms of art was hurried down, Forced with regret to leave her native sphere, Came but a while on liking[50] here: Soon weary of the painful strife, And made but faint essays of life: An evening light Soon shut in night; A strong distemper, and a weak relief, Short intervals of joy, and long returns of grief.

V.

The sons of art all med'cines tried, And every noble remedy applied; With emulation each essayed His utmost skill; nay, more, they prayed: Never was losing game with better conduct played. Death never won a stake with greater toil, Nor e'er was fate so near a foil: But, like a fortress on a rock, The impregnable disease their vain attempts did mock; They mined it near, they battered from afar With all the cannon of the medicinal war; No gentle means could be essayed, 'Twas beyond parley when the siege was laid. The extremest ways they first ordain, Prescribing such intolerable pain, As none but Cæsar could sustain: Undaunted Cæsar underwent The malice of their art, nor bent Beneath whate'er their pious rigour could invent. In five such days he suffered more Than any suffered in his reign before; More, infinitely more, than he, Against the worst of rebels could decree, A traitor, or twice pardoned enemy. Now art was tired without success, No racks could make the stubborn malady confess. The vain insurancers of life, And he who most performed, and promised less, Even Short[51] himself, forsook the unequal strife. Death and despair was in their looks, No longer they consult their memories or books; Like helpless friends, who view from shore The labouring ship, and hear the tempest roar; So stood they with their arms across, Not to assist, but to deplore The inevitable loss.

VI.

Death was denounced; that frightful sound Which even the best can hardly bear; He took the summons void of fear, And unconcernedly cast his eyes around, As if to find and dare the grisly challenger. What death could do he lately tried, When in four days he more than died. The same assurance all his words did grace; The same majestic mildness held its place; Nor lost the monarch in his dying face. Intrepid, pious, merciful, and brave, He looked as when he conquered and forgave.

VII.

As if some angel had been sent To lengthen out his government, And to foretel as many years again, As he had numbered in his happy reign; So cheerfully he took the doom Of his departing breath, Nor shrunk nor stept aside for death; But, with unaltered pace, kept on, Providing for events to come, When he resigned the throne. Still he maintained his kingly state, And grew familiar with his fate. Kind, good, and gracious, to the last, On all he loved before his dying beams he cast: Oh truly good, and truly great, For glorious as he rose, benignly so he set! All that on earth he held most dear, He recommended to his care, To whom both heaven The right had given, And his own love bequeathed supreme command:[52] He took and prest that ever-loyal hand, Which could, in peace, secure his reign; Which could, in wars, his power maintain; That hand on which no plighted vows were ever vain. Well, for so great a trust, he chose A prince, who never disobeyed; Not when the most severe commands were laid; Nor want, nor exile, with his duty weighed:[53] A prince on whom, if heaven its eyes could close, The welfare of the world it safely might repose.

VIII.

That king, who lived to God's own heart, Yet less serenely died than he; Charles left behind no harsh decree, For schoolmen, with laborious art, To save from cruelty:[54] Those, for whom love could no excuses frame, He graciously forgot to name. Thus far my muse, though rudely, has designed Some faint resemblance of his godlike mind; But neither pen nor pencil can express The parting brothers tenderness; Though that's a term too mean and low; The blest above a kinder word may know: But what they did, and what they said, The monarch who triumphant went, The militant who staid, Like painters, when their heightening arts are spent, I cast into a shade. That all-forgiving king, The type of him above, That inexhausted spring Of clemency and love, Himself to his next self accused, And asked that pardon which he ne'er refused; For faults not his, for guilt and crimes Of godless men, and of rebellious times; For an hard exile, kindly meant, When his ungrateful country sent Their best Camillus into banishment, And forced their sovereign's act, they could not his consent. Oh how much rather had that injured chief Repeated all his sufferings past, Than hear a pardon begged at last, Which, given, could give the dying no relief! He bent, he sunk beneath his grief; His dauntless heart would fain have held From weeping, but his eyes rebelled. Perhaps the godlike hero, in his breast, Disdained, or was ashamed to show, So weak, so womanish a woe, Which yet the brother and the friend so plenteously confest.

IX.

Amidst that silent shower, the royal mind An easy passage found, And left its sacred earth behind; Nor murmuring groan expressed, nor labouring sound, Nor any least tumultuous breath; Calm was his life, and quiet was his death. Soft as those gentle whispers were, In which the Almighty did appear; By the still voice the prophet knew him there. That peace which made thy prosperous reign to shine, That peace thou leav'st to thy imperial line, That peace, Oh happy shade, be ever thine!

X.

For all those joys thy restoration brought, For all the miracles it wrought, For all the healing balm thy mercy poured Into the nation's bleeding wound,[55] And care, that after kept it sound, For numerous blessings yearly showered, And property with plenty crowned; For freedom, still maintained alive, Freedom, which in no other land will thrive, Freedom, an English subject's sole prerogative, Without whose charms, even peace would be But a dull quiet slavery;-- For these, and more, accept our pious praise; 'Tis all the subsidy The present age can raise, The rest is charged on late posterity. Posterity is charged the more, Because the large abounding store To them, and to their heirs, is still entailed by thee. Succession of a long descent, Which chastely in the channels ran, And from our demi-gods began, Equal almost to time in its extent, Through hazards numberless and great, Thou hast derived this mighty blessing down, And fixed the fairest gem that decks the imperial crown: Not faction, when it shook thy regal seat, Not senates, insolently loud, Those echoes of a thoughtless crowd, Not foreign or domestic treachery, Could warp thy soul to their unjust decree. So much thy foes thy manly mind mistook, Who judged it by the mildness of thy look; Like a well-tempered sword, it bent at will, But kept the native toughness of the steel.

XI.

Be true, O Clio, to thy hero's name; But draw him strictly so, That all who view the piece may know, He needs no trappings of fictitious fame. The load's too weighty; thou may'st chuse Some parts of praise, and some refuse; Write, that his annals may be thought more lavish than the muse. In scanty truth thou hast confined The virtues of a royal mind, Forgiving, bounteous, humble, just, and kind: His conversation, wit, and parts, His knowledge in the noblest useful arts, Were such, dead authors could not give; But habitudes of those who live, Who, lighting him, did greater lights receive: He drained from all, and all they knew; His apprehension quick, his judgment true, That the most learned, with shame, confess His knowledge more, his reading only less.

XII.

Amidst the peaceful triumphs of his reign, What wonder, if the kindly beams he shed Revived the drooping arts again, If science raised her head, And soft humanity, that from rebellion fled. Our isle, indeed, too fruitful was before; But all uncultivated lay Out of the solar walk, and heaven's high way;[56] With rank Geneva weeds run o'er, And cockle, at the best, amidst the corn it bore: The royal husbandman appeared, And ploughed, and sowed, and tilled; The thorns he rooted out, the rubbish cleared, And blest the obedient field When strait a double harvest rose, Such as the swarthy Indian mows, Or happier climates near the Line, Or paradise manured, and drest by hands divine.

XIII.

As when the new-born phoenix takes his way, His rich paternal regions to survey, Of airy choristers a numerous train Attend his wonderous progress o'er the plain; So, rising from his father's urn, So glorious did our Charles return; The officious muses came along, A gay harmonious quire, like angels ever young; The muse, that mourns him now, his happy triumph sung.[57] Even they could thrive in his auspicious reign; And such a plenteous crop they bore Of purest and well-winnowed grain, As Britain never knew before. Though little was their hire, and light their gain, Yet somewhat to their share he threw; Fed from his hand, they sung and flew, Like birds of paradise, that lived on morning dew. Oh never let their lays his name forget! The pension of a prince's praise is great. Live then, thou great encourager of arts, Live ever in our thankful hearts; Live blest above, almost invoked below; Live and receive this pious vow, Our patron once, our guardian angel now! Thou Fabius of a sinking state, Who didst by wise delays divert our fate, When faction like a tempest rose, In death's most hideous form, Then art to rage thou didst oppose, To weather out the storm; Not quitting thy supreme command, Thou heldst the rudder with a steady hand, Till safely on the shore the bark did land; The bark, that all our blessings brought, Charged with thyself and James, a doubly-royal fraught.

XIV.

Oh frail estate of human things, And slippery hopes below! Now to our cost your emptiness we know; For 'tis a lesson dearly bought, Assurance here is never to be sought. The best, and best beloved of kings, And best deserving to be so, When scarce he had escaped the fatal blow Of faction and conspiracy, Death did his promised hopes destroy; He toiled, he gained, but lived not to enjoy. What mists of Providence are these Through which we cannot see! So saints, by supernatural power set free, Are left at last in martyrdom to die; Such is the end of oft repeated miracles.-- Forgive me, heaven, that impious thought, 'Twas grief for Charles, to madness wrought, That questioned thy supreme decree! Thou didst his gracious reign prolong, Even in thy saints and angels wrong, His fellow-citizens of immortality: For twelve long years of exile born, Twice twelve we numbered since his blest return: So strictly wer't thou just to pay, Even to the driblet of a day.[58] Yet still we murmur, and complain The quails and manna should no longer rain: Those miracles 'twas needless to renew; The chosen flock has now the promised land in view.

XV.

A warlike prince ascends the regal state, A prince long exercised by fate: Long may he keep, though he obtains it late! Heroes in heaven's peculiar mould are cast; They, and their poets, are not formed in haste; Man was the first in God's design, and man was made the last. False heroes, made by flattery so, Heaven can strike out, like sparkles, at a blow; But ere a prince is to perfection brought, He costs Omnipotence a second thought. With toil and sweat, With hardening cold, and forming heat, The Cyclops did their strokes repeat, Before the impenetrable shield was wrought. It looks as if the Maker would not own The noble work for his, Before 'twas tried and found a master-piece.

XVI.

View then a monarch ripened for a throne. Alcides thus his race began, O'er infancy he swiftly ran; The future God at first was more than man: Dangers and toils, and Juno's hate, Even o'er his cradle lay in wait, And there he grappled first with fate; In his young hands the hissing snakes he prest, So early was the Deity confest; Thus, by degrees, he rose to Jove's imperial seat; Thus difficulties prove a soul legitimately great. Like his, our hero's infancy was tried; Betimes the furies did their snakes provide, And to his infant arms oppose His father's rebels, and his brother's foes; The more opprest, the higher still he rose. Those were the preludes of his fate, That formed his manhood, to subdue The hydra of the many-headed hissing crew.

XVII.

As after Numa's peaceful reign, The martial Ancus[59] did the sceptre wield, Furbished the rusty sword again, Resumed the long-forgotten shield, And led the Latins to the dusty field; So James the drowsy genius wakes Of Britain long entranced in charms, Restiff and slumbering on its arms; 'Tis roused, and, with a new-strung nerve, the spear already shakes. No neighing of the warrior steeds, No drum, or louder trumpet, needs To inspire the coward, warm the cold; His voice, his sole appearance, makes them bold, Gaul and Batavia dread the impending blow; Too well the vigour of that arm they know; They lick the dust, and crouch beneath their fatal foe. Long may they fear this awful prince, And not provoke his lingering sword; Peace is their only sure defence, Their best security his word. In all the changes of his doubtful state, His truth, like heaven's, was kept inviolate; For him to promise is to make it fate. His valour can triumph o'er land and main; With broken oaths his fame he will not stain; With conquest basely bought, and with inglorious gain.

XVIII.

For once, O heaven, unfold thy adamantine book; And let his wondering senate see, If not thy firm immutable decree, At least the second page of strong contingency, Such as consists with wills, originally free. Let them with glad amazement look On what their happiness may be; Let them not still be obstinately blind, Still to divert the good thou hast designed, Or, with malignant penury, To starve the royal virtues of his mind. Faith is a Christian's and a subject's test; Oh give them to believe, and they are surely blest. They do; and with a distant view I see The amended vows of English loyalty; And all beyond that object, there appears The long retinue of a prosperous reign, A series of successful years, In orderly array, a martial, manly train.[60] Behold e'en the remoter shores, A conquering navy proudly spread; The British cannon formidably roars, While, starting from his oozy bed, The asserted Ocean rears his reverend head, To view and recognize his ancient lord again; And, with a willing hand, restores The fasces of the main.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 43: Note 1.]

[Footnote 44: Alluding to the fable of Hercules supporting the heavenly sphere when Atlas was fatigued.]

[Footnote 45: A very ill-timed sarcasm on those, who petitioned Charles to call his parliament. See p. 311.]

[Footnote 46: 2 Kings, chap. xx.]

[Footnote 47: Note II.]

[Footnote 48: Note III.]

[Footnote 49: An _eagre_ is a tide swelling above another tide, which I have myself observed in the river Trent.--DRYDEN. This species of combat between the current and the tide is well known on the Severn; and, so far back as the days of William of Malmesbury, was called the _Higre_. Unhappy is the vessel, says that ancient historian, on whom its force falls laterally. _De Gestis Pontificum_, Lib. IV.--Drayton describes the same river,

----With whose tumultuous waves, Shut up in narrower bounds, the Higre wildly raves, And frights the straggling flocks the neighbouring shores to fly. Afar as from the main it comes with hideous cry; And on the angry front the curled foam doth bring, The billows 'gainst the bank when fiercely it doth fling, Hurls up the scaly ooze, and makes the scaly brood Leap madding to the land affrighted from the flood; O'erturns the toiling barch whose steersman does not launch, And thrust the furrowing beak into her ravening paunch.

_Poly-Albion_, Song VII. ]

[Footnote 50: To engage upon _liking_, (an image rather too familiar for the occasion,) is to take a temporary trial of a service, or business, with licence to quit it at pleasure.]

[Footnote 51: Note IV.]

[Footnote 52: Note V.]

[Footnote 53: Alluding to the Duke's banishment to Flanders. See note on "Absalom and Achitophel," Vol. IX. p. 384.]

[Footnote 54: The testament of king David, by which he bequeathed to his son the charge of executing vengeance on those enemies whom he had spared during his life, has been much canvassed by divines. I indulge myself in a tribute to a most venerable character, when I state, that the most ingenious discourses I ever heard from the pulpit, were upon this and other parts of David's conduct, in a series of lectures by the late Reverend Dr John Erskine, one of the ministers of the Old Greyfriars church in Edinburgh.]

[Footnote 55: King Charles' first parliament, from passing the Act of Indemnity, and taking other measures to drown all angry recollection of the civil wars, was called the Healing Parliament.]

[Footnote 56: A similar line occurs in the _Annus Mirabilis_, St. 160:

Beyond the year, and out of heaven's high-way.

The expression is originally Virgil's:

_Extra anni, solisque vias_. ]

[Footnote 57: See the Astræa Redux. Note VI.]

[Footnote 58: Reckoning from the death of his father, Charles had reigned thirty-six years and eight days; and, counting from his restoration, twenty-four years, eight months, and nine days.]

[Footnote 59: Ancus Martius, who succeeded the peaceful Numa Pompilius as king of Rome.]

[Footnote 60: Note VII.]

NOTES

ON

THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS.

Note I.

_An unexpected burst of woes._--P. 62.

Charles II. enjoyed excellent health, and was particularly careful to preserve it by constant exercise. His danger, therefore, fell like a thunder-bolt on his people, whose hearts were gained by his easy manners and good humour, and who considered, that the worst apprehensions they had ever entertained during his reign, arose from the religion and disposition of his successor. The mingled passions of affection and fear produced a wonderful sensation on the nation. The people were so passionately concerned, that North says, and appeals to all who recollected the time for the truth of his averment, that it was rare to see a person walking the street with dry eyes. _Examen._ p. 647.

Note II.

_The second causes took the swift command, The medicinal head, the ready hand, All eager to perform their part._--P. 64.

If there is safety in the multitude of counsellors, Charles did not find it in the multitude of physicians. Nine were in attendance, all men of eminence; the presence of the least of whom, Le Sage would have said, was fully adequate to account for the subsequent catastrophe. They were Sir Thomas Millington, Sir Thomas Witherby, Sir Charles Scarborough, Sir Edmund King, Doctors Berwick, Charlton, Lower, Short, and Le Fevre. They signed a declaration, that the king had died of an apoplexy.

Note III.

_The joyful short-lived news soon spread around._--P. 65.

An article was published in the Gazette, on the third day of the king's illness, importing, "That his physicians now conceived him to be in a state of safety, and that in a few days he would be freed from his indisposition."[61] North tells us, however, on the authority of his brother, the Lord Keeper, that the only hope which the physicians afforded to the council, was an assurance, (joyfully communicated,) that the king was ill of a violent fever. The council seeing little consolation in these tidings, one of the medical gentlemen explained, by saying, that they now knew what they had to do, which was to administer the cortex. This was done while life lasted,[62] although some of the physicians seem to have deemed the prescription improper; in which case, Charles, after escaping the poniards and pistols of the Jesuits, may be said to have fallen a victim to their bark.

Note IV.

_And he who most performed, and promised less, Even Short himself, forsook the unequal strife._--P. 67.

Dr Thomas Short, an eminent physician, who came into the court practice when Dr Richard Lower, who formerly enjoyed it, embraced the political principles of the Whig party. Short, a Roman Catholic, and himself a Tory, was particularly acceptable to the Tories. To this circumstance he probably owes the compliment paid him by our author, and another from Lord Mulgrave to the same purpose. Otway reckons, among his selected friends,

Short, beyond what numbers can commend.[63]

Duke has also inscribed to him his translation of the eleventh Idyllium of Theocritus; beginning,

O Short! no herb nor salve was ever found, To ease a lover's heat, or heal his wound.

Dr Short, as one of the king's physicians, attended the death-bed of Charles, and subscribed the attestation, that he died of an apoplexy. Yet there has been ascribed to him an expression of dubious import, which caused much disquisition at the time; namely, that "the king had not fair play for his life." Burnet says plainly, that "Short suspected poison, and talked more freely of it than any Protestant durst venture to do at the time." He, adds, that "Short himself was taken suddenly ill, upon taking a large draught of wormwood wine, in the house of a Popish patient near the Tower; and while on his death-bed, he told Lower, and Millington, and other physicians, that he believed he himself was poisoned, for having spoken too freely of the king's death."[64] Mulgrave states the same report in these words, which, coming from a professed Tory, are entitled to the greater credit: "I am obliged to observe, that the most knowing and most deserving of all his physicians did not only believe him poisoned, but thought himself so too, not long after, for having declared his opinion a little too boldly."[65] North, in confutation of this report, has interpreted Short's expression, as meaning nothing more than that the king's malady was mistaken by his physicians, who, by their improper prescriptions, deprived nature of fair play;[66] and he appeals to all the eminent physicians who attended Dr Short in his last illness, whether he did not fall a victim to his own bold method, in using the cortex. Upon the whole, whatever opinion this individual physician may have adopted through mistake, or affectation of singularity, and whatever credit faction, or indeed popular prejudice in general, may have given to such rumours at the time, there appears no solid reason to believe that Charles died of poison. Both Burnet and Mulgrave say, that they never heard a hint that his brother was accessary to such a crime; and it is very unlikely that any zealous Catholic should have had either opportunity, or inclination, to hasten the reign of a prince of that religion, by the unsolicited service of poisoning his brother. The other physicians, several of whom, Lower, for example, were Whigs, as well as Protestants, gave no countenance to this rumour, which was circulated by a Catholic. And, as the symptoms of the king's disorder are decidedly apoplectic, the report may be added to those with which history abounds, and which are raised and believed only because an extraordinary end is thought most fit for the eminent and powerful.

Short, as we have incidentally noticed, survived his royal patient but a few months. He was succeeded in his practice by Ratcliffe, the famous Tory physician of Queen Anne's reign.

Note V.

_All that on earth he held most dear, He recommended to his care, To whom both heaven The right had given, And his own love bequeathed supreme command._--P. 69.

The historical accounts of the dying requests of Charles are contradictory and obscure. It seems certain, that he earnestly recommended his favourite mistress, the Duchess of Portsmouth, to the protection of his successor. He had always, he said, loved her, and he now loved her at the last. The Bishop of Bath presented to him his natural son, the Duke of Richmond; whom he blessed, and recommended, with his other children, to his successor's protection; adding, "Do not let poor Nelly[67] starve." He seems to have said nothing of the Duke of Monmouth, once so much beloved, and whom, shortly before, he entertained thoughts of recalling from banishment, and replacing in favour; perhaps he thought, any recommendation to James of a rival so hated would be ineffectual. Burnet says, he spoke not a word of the queen. Echard, on the contrary, affirms, that, at the exhortation of the Bishop of Bath, Charles sent for the queen, and asked and received her pardon for the injuries he had done her bed.[68] In Fountainhall's Manuscript, the queen is said to have sent a message, requesting his pardon if she had ever offended him: "Alas, poor lady!" replied the dying monarch, "she never offended me; I have too often injured her."[69] This account seems more probable than that of Echard; for so public a circumstance, as a personal visit from the queen to her husband's death-bed, could hardly have been disputed by contemporaries.

Note VI.

_The officious muses came along, A gay harmonious quire, like angels ever young; The muse, that mourns him now, his happy triumph sung._--P. 74.

In Dryden's Life, we had occasion to remark the effect of the Restoration upon literature. It was not certainly its least important benefit, that it opened our poet's own way to distinction; which is thus celebrated by Baber:

----till blest years brought Cæsar home again, Dryden to purpose never drew his pen. He, happy favourite of the tuneful nine! Came with an early offering to your shrine; Embalmed in deathless verse the monarch's fame; Verse, which shall keep it fresh in youthful prime, When Rustal's sacred gift must yield to time.

Note VII.

_Faith is a Christian's and a subject's test._--P. 78.

James, as well as his poet, was not slack in intimating to his subjects, that he expected them to possess a proper portion of this saving virtue. And, that they might not want an opportunity of exercising it, he was pleased, by his own royal proclamation, to continue the payment of the duties of the custom-house, which had been granted by parliament only during his brother's life.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 61: RALPH, Vol. I. p. 834.]

[Footnote 62: Life of Lord Keeper Guilford, p. 253.]

[Footnote 63: Epistle to Mr Duke.]

[Footnote 64: Burnet's History of his own Times. End of Book III.]

[Footnote 65: Character of Charles II., Sheffield Duke of Buckingham's Works, Vol. II. p. 65.]

[Footnote 66: One Dr Stokeham is said to have alleged, that the king's fit was epileptic, not apoplectic, and that bleeding was _ex diametro_ wrong.]

[Footnote 67: Nell Gwyn.]

[Footnote 68: Echard's History, p. 1046.]

[Footnote 69: Dalrymple's Memoirs, 8vo. vol. i. p. 66.]

THE

HIND AND THE PANTHER,

A POEM.

IN THREE PARTS.

----_Antiquam exquirite matrem_---- ----_Et vera incessu patuit Dea_. VIRG.

THE

HIND AND THE PANTHER.

In the Life of Dryden, there is an attempt to trace the progress and changes of those religious opinions, by which he was unfortunately conducted into the errors of Popery. With all the zeal of a now convert, he seems to have been impatient to invite others to follow his example, by detailing, in poetry, the arguments which had appeared to him unanswerable. "The Hind and the Panther" is the offspring of that rage for proselytism, which is a peculiar attribute of his new mother church. The author is anxious, in the preface, to represent this poem as a task which he had voluntarily undertaken, without receiving even the subject from any one. His assertion seems worthy of full credit; for, although it was the most earnest desire of James II. to employ every possible mode for the conversion of his subjects, there is room to believe, that, if the poem had been written under his direction, the tone adopted by Dryden towards the sectaries would have been much more mild. It is a well-known point of history, that, in order to procure as many friends as possible to the repeal of the test act and penal laws against the Catholics, James extended indulgence to the puritans and sectarian non-conformists, the ancient enemies of his person, his family, and monarchical establishments in general. Dryden obviously was not in this court secret; the purpose of which was to unite those congregations, whom he has described under the parable of bloody bears, boars, wolves, foxes, &c. in a common interest with the Hind, against the exclusive privileges of the Panther and her subjects. His work was written with the precisely opposite intention of recommending an union between the Catholics and the church of England; at least, of persuading the latter to throw down the barriers, by which the former were kept out of state employments. Such an union had at one time been deemed practicable; and, in 1685, pamphlets had been published, seriously exhorting the church of England to a league with the Catholics, in order to root out the sectaries as common enemies to both. The steady adherence of the church of England to Protestant principles, rendered all hopes of such an union abortive; and, while Dryden was composing his poem upon this deserted plan, James was taking different steps to accomplish the main purpose both of the poet and monarch.

The power of the crown to dispense, at pleasure, with the established laws of the kingdom, had been often asserted, and sometimes exercised, by former English monarchs. A king was entitled, the favourers of prerogative argued, to pardon the breach of a statute, when committed; why not, therefore, to suspend its effect by a dispensation _a priori_, or by a general suspension of the law? which was only doing in general, what he was confessedly empowered to do in particular cases. But a doctrine so pernicious to liberty was never allowed to take root in the constitution; and the confounding the prerogative of extending mercy to individual criminals, with that of annulling the laws under which they had been condemned, was a fallacy easily detected and refuted. Charles II. twice attempted to assert his supposed privilege of suspending the penal laws, by granting a general toleration; and he had, in both cases, been obliged to retract, by the remonstrances of Parliament.[70] But his successor, who conceived that his power was situated on a more firm basis, and who was naturally obstinate in his resolutions, was not swayed by this recollection. He took every opportunity to exercise the power of dispensing with the laws, requiring Catholics to take the test agreeable to act of Parliament. He asserted his right to do so in his speech to the Parliament, on 9th November, 1685; he despised the remonstrances of both Houses, upon so flagrant and open a violation of the law; and he endeavoured, by a packed bench, and a feigned action at law, to extort a judicial ratification of his dispensing power. At length, not contented with granting dispensations to individuals, the king resolved at once to suspend the operation of all penal statutes, which required conformity with the church of England, as well as of the test act.

On the 4th of April, 1687, came forth the memorable Declaration of Indulgence, in favour of all non-conformists of whatever persuasion; by which they were not only protected in the full exercise of their various forms of religion, but might, without conformity, be admitted to all offices in the state. With what consequences this act of absolute power was attended, the history of the Revolution makes us fully acquainted; for it is surely unnecessary to add, that the indulgence occasioned the petition and trial of the bishops, the most important incident in that momentous period.

About a fortnight after the publishing of this declaration of indulgence, our author's poem made its appearance; being licensed on the 11th April, 1687, and published a few days after. If it was undertaken without the knowledge of the court, it was calculated, on its appearance, to secure the royal countenance and approbation. Accordingly, as soon as it was published in England, a second edition was thrown off at a printing office in Holyroodhouse, Edinburgh, then maintained for the express purpose of disseminating such treatises as were best calculated to serve the Catholic cause.[71] If the Protestant dissenters ever cast their eyes upon profane poetry, "The Hind and the Panther" must have appeared to them a perilous commentary on the king's declaration; since it shows clearly, that the Catholic interest alone was what the Catholic king and poet had at heart, and that, however the former might now find himself obliged to court their favour, to strengthen his party against the established church, the deep remembrance of ancient feuds and injuries was still cherished, and the desire of vengeance on the fanatics neither sated nor subdued.

In composing this poem, it may be naturally presumed, that Dryden exerted his full powers. He was to justify, in the eyes of the world, a step which is always suspicious; and, by placing before the public the arguments by which he had been induced to change his religion, he was at once to exculpate himself, and induce others to follow his example. He chose, for the mode of conveying this instruction, that parabolical form of writing, which took its rise perhaps in the East, or rather which, in a greater or less degree, is common to all nations. An old author observes, that there is "no species of four-footed beasts, of birds, of fish, of insects, reptiles, or any other living things, whose nature is not found in man. How exactly agreeable to the fox are some men's tempers; whilst others are profest bears in human shape. Here you shall meet a crocodile, who seeks, with feigned tears, to entrap you to your ruin; there a serpent creeps, and winds himself into your affections, till, on a sudden, when warmed with favours, he will bite and sting you to death. Tygers, lions, leopards, panthers, wolves, and all the monstrous generations of Africa, may be seen masquerading in the forms of men; and 'tis not hard for an observing mind to see their natural complexions through the borrowed vizard."[72] Dryden conceived the idea, of extending to religious communities the supposed resemblance between man and the lower animals. Under the name of a "milk-white Hind, immortal and unchanged," he described the unity, simplicity, and innocence of the church, to which he had become a convert; and under that of a Panther, fierce and inexorable towards those of a different persuasion, he bodied forth the church of England, obstinate in defending its pale from encroachment, by the penal statutes and the test act.[73] There wanted not critics to tell him, that he had mistaken the character of either communion.[74] The inferior sects are described under the emblem of various animals, fierce and disgusting in proportion to their more remote affinity to the church of Rome. And in a dialogue between the two principal characters, the leading arguments of the controversy between the churches, at least what the poet chose to consider as such, are formally discussed.

But Dryden's plan is far from coming within the limits of a fable or parable, strictly so called; for it is strongly objected, that the poet has been unable to avoid confounding the real churches themselves with the Hind and the Panther, under which they are represented. "The hind," as Johnson observes, "at one time is afraid to drink at the common brook, because she may be worried; but, walking home with the panther, talks by the way of the Nicene fathers, and at last declares herself to be the Catholic church." And the same critic complains, "that the king is now Cæsar, and now the lion, and that the name Pan is given to the Supreme Being." "The Hind and Panther transversed, or the City and Country Mouse," which was written in ridicule of this poem, turns chiefly upon the incongruity of the emblems adopted by Dryden, and the inconsistencies into which his plan had led him.[75] This ridicule, and the criticism on which it is founded, seems, however, to be carried a little too far. If a fable, or parable, is to be entirely and exclusively limited to a detail which may suit the common actions and properties of the animals, or things introduced in it, we strike out from the class some which have always been held the most beautiful examples of that style of fiction. It is surely as easy to conceive a Hind and Panther discussing points of religion, as that the trees of the forest should assemble together to chuse a king, invite different trees to accept of that dignity, and, finally, make choice of a bramble. Yet no one ever hesitates to pronounce Jotham's Parable of the Trees one of the finest which ever was written. Or what shall we say of one of the most common among Æsop's apologues, which informs us in the outset, that the lion, the ox, the sheep, and the ass, went a hunting together, on condition of dividing equally whatever should be caught? Yet this and many other fables, in which the animals introduced act altogether contrary to their nature, are permitted to rank without censure in the class which they assume. Nay, it may be questioned whether the most proper fables are not those in which the animals are introduced as acting upon the principles of mankind. For instance, if an author be compared to a daw, it is no fable, but a simile; but if a tale be told of a daw who dressed himself in borrowed feathers, a thing naturally impossible, the simile becomes a proper fable. Perhaps, therefore, it is sufficient for the fabulist, if he can point out certain original and leading features of resemblance betwixt his emblems, and that which they are intended to represent, and he may be permitted to take considerable latitude in their farther approximation. It may be farther urged in Dryden's behalf, that the older poets whom he professed to imitate, Spenser, for example, in "Mother Hubbart's Tale," which he has actually quoted, and Chaucer, in that of the "Nun's Priest's tale" have stepped beyond the simplicity of the ancient fable, and introduced a species of mixed composition, between that and downright satire. The names and characters of beasts are only assumed in "Mother Hubbart's Tale," that the satirist might, under that slight cloak, say with safety what he durst not otherwise have ventured upon; and in the tale of Chaucer, the learned dialogue about dreams is only put into the mouths of a cock and hen, to render the ridicule of such disquisitions more poignant. Had Spenser been asked, why he described the court of the lion as exactly similar to that of a human prince, and introduced the fox as composing madrigals for the courtiers? he would have bidden the querist,

----Yield his sense was all too blunt and base, That n'ote without a hound fine footing trace.

And if the question had been put to the bard of Woodstock, why, he made his cock an astrologer, and his hen a physician, he would have answered, that his satire might become more ludicrous, by putting these grave speeches into the mouths of such animals. Dryden seems to have proposed as his model this looser kind of parable; giving his personages, indeed, the names of the Hind and Panther, but reserving to himself the privilege of making the supposed animals use the language and arguments of the communities they were intended to represent. I must own, however, that this licence appears less pardonable in the First Part, where he professes to use the majestic turn of heroic poetry, than in those which are dedicated to argument and satire.

Dryden has, in this very poem, given us two examples of the more pure and correct species of fable. These, which he terms in the preface Episodes, are the tale of the Swallows seduced to defer their emigration, and that of the Pigeons, who chose a Buzzard for their king.[78] It is remarkable, that, as the former is by much the most complete story, so, although put in the mouth of a representative of the heretical church, it proved eventually to contain a truth sorrowful to our author, and those of the Roman Catholic persuasion: For, while the Buzzard's elevation (Bishop Burnet by name) was not attended with any peculiar evil consequences to the church of England, the short gleam of Popish prosperity was soon overcast, and the priests and their proselytes plunged in reality into all the distress of the swallows in the Panther's fable.

In conformity to our author's plan, announced in the preface, the fable is divided into Three Parts. The First is dedicated to the general description and character of the religious sects, particularly the churches of Rome and of England. And here Dryden has used the more elevated strain of heroic poetry. In the Second, the general arguments of the controversy between the two churches are agitated, for which purpose a less magnificent style of language is adopted. In the Third and last Part, from discussing the disputed points of theology, the Hind and Panther descend to consider the particulars in which their temporal interests were judged at this period to interfere with each other. And here Dryden has lowered the tone of his verse to that of common conversation. We must admit, with Johnson, that these distinctions of style are not always accurately adhered to. The First Part has familiar lines; as, for instance, the four with which it concludes:

Considering her a civil well-bred beast, And more a gentlewoman than the rest, After some common talk, what rumours ran, The lady of the spotted muff began.

Some passages are not only mean in expression, but border on profaneness; as,

The smith divine, as with a careless beat, Struck out the mute creation at a heat; But when at last arrived to human race, The Godhead took a deep considering space.

On the other hand, the Third Part has passages in a higher tone of poetry; particularly the whole character of James in the fable of the Pigeons and the Buzzard: but it is enough to fulfil the author's promise in the preface, that the parts do each in general preserve a peculiar character and style, though occasionally sliding into that of the others.

It is a main defect of the plan just detailed, that it necessarily limited the interest of the poem to that crisis of politics when it was published. A work, which the author announces as calculated to attract the favour of friends, and to animate the malevolence of enemies, is now read with cold indifference. He launched forth into a tide of controversy, which, however furious at the time, has long subsided, leaving his poem a disregarded wreck, stranded upon the shores which the surges once occupied.

Setting aside this original defect, the First and Last Parts of the poem, in particular, abound with passages of excellent poetry. In the former, it is worthy attention, with what ease and command of his language and subject Dryden passes from his sublime description of the immortal Hind, to brand and stigmatise the sectaries by whom she was hated and persecuted; a rare union of dignity preserved in satire, and of satire engrafted upon heroic poetry. The reader cannot, at the same time, fail to observe the felicity with which the poet has assigned prototypes to the dissenting churches, agreeing in character with that which he meant to fix upon their several congregations. The Bear, unlicked to forms, is the emblem of the Independents, who disclaimed them;[79] the Wolf, which hunts in herds, to the classes and synods of the Presbyterian church; the Hare, to the peaceful Quakers; the wild Boar, to the fierce and savage Anabaptists, who ravaged Germany, the native country of that animal. With similar felicity, the "bird, who warned St Peter of his fall," is, from that circumstance, and his nocturnal vigils, afterwards assigned as the representative of the Catholic clergy. Above all, the attention is arrested by the pointed description of those dark and sullen enthusiasts, who, scarcely agreeing among themselves upon any peculiar points of doctrine, rested their claim to superior sanctity upon abominating and contemning those usual forms of reverence, by which men, in all countries since the beginning of the world, have agreed to distinguish public worship from ordinary or temporal employments. The whole of this First Part of the poem abounds with excellent poetry, rising above the tone of ordinary satire, and yet possessing all its poignancy. The difference, to those against whom it is directed, is like that of being blasted by a thunder-bolt, instead of being branded with a red-hot iron.

The First Part of "The Hind and Panther," although chiefly dedicated to general characters, contains some reasoning on the grand controversy, similar to that which occupies the Second. The author displays, with the utmost art and energy of argumentative poetry, the reasons by which he was himself guided in adopting the Roman Catholic faith. He is led into this discussion, by mentioning the heretical doctrine of the Unitarians; and insists, that the Protestant churches, which have consented to postpone human reason to faith, by acquiescing in the orthodox doctrine of the Trinity, are not entitled to appeal to the authority which they have waived, for arguments against the mystery of the real presence in the eucharist. This was a favourite mode of reasoning of the Catholics at the time, as may be seen from the numerous treatises which they sent forth upon the controversy. It is undoubtedly very fit to impose on the vulgar, but completely overshoots the mark at which it aims. For, if our yielding humble belief to one abstruse doctrine of divinity be sufficient to debar the exercise of our reason respecting another, it is obvious, that, by the same reason, the appeal to our understanding must be altogether laid aside in matters of doubtful orthodoxy. The Protestant divines, therefore, took a distinction; and, while they admitted they were obliged to surrender their human judgment in matters of divine revelation which were above their reason, they asserted the power of appealing to its guidance in those things of a finite nature which depend on the evidence of sense, and the consequent privileges of rejecting any doctrine, which, being within the sphere of human comprehension, is nevertheless repugnant to the understanding: therefore, while they received the doctrine of the Trinity as an infinite mystery, far above their reason, they contended against that of transubstantiation as capable of being tried by human faculties, and as contradicted by an appeal to them. In a subsequent passage, the author taxes the church of England with an attempt to reconcile contradictions, by admitting the real presence in the eucharist, and yet denying actual transubstantiation. Dryden boldly appeals to the positive words of scripture, and sums his doctrine thus:

The literal sense is hard to flesh and blood, But nonsense never can be understood.

Granting, however, the obscurity or mystery of the one doctrine, it is a hard choice to be obliged to adopt, in its room, that which asserts an acknowledged impossibility.

In the Second Part, another point of the controversy is agitated; the infallibility, namely, which is claimed by the Roman church. The author appears here to have hampered himself in the toils of his own argument in a former poem. He had asserted in the "Religio Laici," that the Scriptures contained all things necessary for salvation; while he yet admitted, that those, whose bent inclined them to the study of polemical divinity, were to be guided by the expositions of the fathers, and the earlier, especially the written, traditions of the Church. There is, as has been noticed in the remarks on "Religio Laici," a certain vacillation in our author's arguments concerning tradition, while yet a Protestant, which prepares us for his finally reposing his doubts in the bosom of that church, which pretends to be the sole depositary of the earlier doctrines of Christianity, and claims a right to ascertain all doubts in point of faith, by the same mode, and with the same unerring certainty, as the original church in the days of the apostles and fathers. These doubts, with which Dryden seems to have been deeply impressed while within the pale of the Church of England, he now objects to her as inconsistencies, and accuses her of having recourse to tradition, or discarding it, as suited the argument which, for the time, she had in agitation. It is unnecessary here to trace the various grounds on which reformed churches prove, that the chain of apostolical tradition has been broken and shivered; and that the church, claiming the proud title of Infallible, has repeatedly sanctioned heresy and error. Neither is it necessary to shew, how the Church of England stops short in her reception of traditions, adopting only those of the primitive church. Something on these points may be found in the notes. I may remark, that Dryden is of the Gallican or _low_ Church of Rome, if I may so speak, and rests the infallibility which he claims for her in the Pope and Council of the Church, and not in the Vicar of Christ alone. In point of literary interest, this Second Part is certainly beneath the other two. It furnishes, however, an excellent specimen of poetical ratiocination upon a most unpromising subject.

The Third Part refers entirely to the politics of the day; and the poet has endeavoured, by a number of arguments, to remove the deep jealousy and apprehensions which the king's religion, and his zeal for proselytism, had awakened in the Church of England. He does not even spare to allege a recent adoption of presbyterian doctrines, as the reason for her unwonted resistance to the royal will; and all the vigour of his satire is pointed against the latitudinarian clergy, or, as they were finally called, the Low Church Party, who now began to assert, what James at length found a melancholy truth, that the doctrine of passive obedience and non-resistance was not peremptorily binding, when the church herself was endangered by the measures of the monarch. Stillingfleet, the personal antagonist of our author, in the controversy concerning the Duchess of York's posthumous declaration of faith, is personally and ferociously attacked. The poem concludes with a fable delivered by each of the disputants, of which the moral applies to the project and hopes of her rival. We have already said, that which is told by the Panther, as it is most spirited and pointed, proved, to the great regret of the author, most strictly prophetic. It is remarkable for containing a beautiful character of King James, as the other exhibits a satirical portrait of the historian Burnet, with whom the court party in general, and Dryden personally, was then at enmity.

The verse in which these doctrines, polemical and political, are delivered, is among the finest specimens of the English heroic stanza. The introductory verses, in particular, are lofty and dignified in the highest degree; as are those, in which the splendour and majesty of the Church of Rome are set forth, in all the glowing colours of rich imagery and magnificent language. But the same praise extends to the versification of the whole poem. It never falls, never becomes rugged; rises with the dignified strain of the poetry; sinks into quaint familiarity, where sarcasm and humour are employed; and winds through all the mazes of theological argument, without becoming either obscure or prosaic. The arguments are in general advanced with an air of conviction and candour, which, in those days, must have required the protestant reader to be on his guard in the perusal, and which seems completely to ascertain the sincerity of the author in his new religious creed.

This controversial poem, containing a bold defiance to all who opposed the king's measures or faith, had no sooner appeared, than our author became a more general object of attack than he had been even on the publication of "Absalom and Achitophel." Indeed, his enemies were now far more numerous, including most of his former friends, the _Tories_ of the high church, excepting a very few who remained attached to James, and saw, with anxiety, his destruction precipitated by the measures he was adopting.

Montague and Prior were among the first to assail our author, in the parody, of which we have just given a large specimen. It must have been published before the 24th October 1687, for it is referred to in "The Laureat," another libel against Dryden, inscribed by Mr Luttrel with that date. This assault affected him the more, as coming from persons with whom he had lived on habits of civility. He is even said to have shed tears upon this occasion; a report probably exaggerated, but which serves to shew, that he was sensible he had exposed himself to the most unexpected assailants, by the unpopularity of the cause which he had espoused. Some further particulars respecting this controversy are mentioned in Dryden's Life. Another poet, or parodier, published "The Revolter, a tragi-comedy," in which he brings the doctrines of the "Religio Laici," and of the "Hind and Panther," in battle array against each other, and rails at the author of both with the most unbounded scurrility.[80]

Not only new enemies arose against him, but the hostility of former and deceased foes seemed to experience a sort of resurrection. Four Letters, by Matthew Clifford of the Charter-House, containing notes upon Dryden's poems and plays, were now either published for the first time, or raked up from the obscurity of a dead-born edition, to fill up the cry of criticism against him on all sides. They are coarse and virulent to the last degree, and so far served the purpose of the publishers; but, as they had no reference to "The Hind and Panther," that defect was removed by a supplementary Letter from the facetious Tom Brown, an author, whose sole wish was to attain the reputation of a successful buffoon, and who, like the jesters of old, having once made himself thoroughly absurd and ridiculous, gained a sort of privilege to make others feel his grotesque raillery.[81] Besides the reflections contained in this letter, Brown also published "The New Converts exposed, or Reasons for Mr Bayes changing his Religion," in two parts; the first of which appeared in 1688, and the second in 1690. From a passage in the preface to the first part, which may serve as a sample of Tom's buffoonery, we learn, Dryden publicly complained, that, although he had put his name to "The Hind and Panther," those who criticized or replied to that poem had not imitated his example.[82]

Another of these witty varlets published, in 1688, "Religio Laici, or a Layman's Faith, touching the Supreme Head and Infallible Guide of the Church, in two letters, &c. by J. R. a convert of Mr Bayes," licensed June the 1st, 1688. From this pamphlet we have given some extracts in the introductory remarks to "Religio Laici," pp. 9, 10.

There were, besides, many libels of the most personal kind poured forth against Dryden by the poets who supplied the usual demand of the hawkers. One of the most virulent contains a singular exhibition of rage and impotence. It professes to contain a review of our poet's life and literary labours, and calls itself "The Laureat." This, as containing some curious particulars, is given below.[83]

The cry against our author being thus general, we may reasonably suppose, that he would have taken some opportunity to exercise his powers of retort upon those who were most active or most considerable among the aggressors, and that Montague and Prior stood a fair chance of being coupled up with Doeg and Og, his former antagonists. But, if Dryden entertained any intention of retaliation, the Revolution, which crushed his rising prospects, took away both the opportunity and inclination. From that period, the fame of "The Hind and Panther" gradually diminished, as the controversy between Protestant and Papist gave way to that between Whig and Tory. Within a few years after the first publication of the poem, Swift ranks it among the compositions of Grubstreet; ironically terms it, "the master-piece of a famous author, now living, intended as a complete abstract of sixteen thousand schoolmen, from Scotus to Bellarmine;" and immediately subjoins, "Tommy Potts, supposed by the same hand, by way of Supplement to the former."[84] With such acrimony do men of genius treat the productions of each other; and so certain it is, that, to enjoy permanent reputation, an author must chuse a theme of permanent interest.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 70: In the years 1662 and 1674. See Vol. IX, p. 448.]

[Footnote 71: Our author was not the only poet who hailed this dawn of toleration; for there is in Luttrell's Collection, "A Congratulatory Poem, dedicated to his Majesty, on the late gracious Declaration (9th June, 1687); by a Person of Quality."]

[Footnote 72: Turkish Spy, Vol. viii. p. 19.]

[Footnote 73: Perhaps the poet recollected the attributes ascribed to the panther by one of the fathers: "_Pantheræ, ut Divus Basilius ait, cum immani sint ac crudeli odio in homines a natura incensæ, in hominum simulacra furibundæ irruunt, nec aliter hominum effigiem, quam homines ipsos dilacerant._"--GRANATEUS _Concion. de Tempore_, Tom. i. p. 492.]

[Footnote 74: "Only by the way, before we bring D. against D. to the stake, I would fain know how Mr Bayes, that so well understood the nature of beasts, came to pitch upon the Hind and the Panther, to signify the church of Rome and the church of England? Doubtless his reply will be, because the hind is a creature harmless and innocent; the panther mischievous and inexorable. Let all this be granted; what is this to the author's absurdity in the choice of his beasts? For the scene of the persecution is Europe, a part of the world which never bred panthers since the creation of the universe. On the other side, grant his allusion passable, and then he stigmatizes the church of England to be the most cruel and most voracious creature that ranges all the Lybian deserts;--a character, which shows him to have a strange mist before his eyes when he reads ecclesiastical history. And then, says he,

The panther, sure the noblest next the hind, And fairest creature of the spotted kind.

Which is another blunder, _cujus contrarium verum est_: For if beauty, strength, and courage, advance the value of the several parts of the creation, without question the panther is far to be preferred before the hind, a poor, silly, timorous, ill-shaped, bobtailed creature, of which a score will hardly purchase the skin of a true panther. Had he looked a little farther, Ludolphus would have furnished him with a zebra, the most beautiful of all the four-footed creatures in the world, to have coped with his panther for spots, and with his hind for gentleness and mildness; of which one was sold singly to the Turkish governor of Suaquena for 2000 Venetian ducats. There had been a beast for him, as pat as a pudding for a friar's mouth. But to couple the hind and the panther was just like _sic magna parvis componere_; and, therefore, he had better have put his hind in a good pasty, or reserved her for some more proper allusion; for this, though his nimble beast have four feet, will by no means run _quatuor pedibus_, though she had a whole kennel of hounds at her heels."--_The Revolter, a Tragi-comedy._]

[Footnote 75: The following justification of their plan is taken from the preface, which is believed to have been entirely the composition of Montague.

"The favourers of 'The Hind and Panther' will be apt to say in its defence, that the best things are capable of being turned to ridicule; that Homer has been burlesqued, and Virgil travestied, without suffering any thing in their reputation from that buffoonery; and that, in like manner,'The Hind and the Panther' may be an exact poem, though it is the subject of our raillery: But there is this difference, that those authors are wrested from their true sense, and this naturally falls into ridicule; there is nothing represented here as monstrous and unnatural, which is not equally so in the original.--First, as to the general design; Is it not as easy to imagine two mice bilking coachmen, and supping at the Devil, as to suppose a hind entertaining the panther at a hermit's cell, discussing the greatest mysteries of religion, and telling you her son Rodriguez writ very good Spanish? What can be more improbable and contradictory to the rules and examples of all fables, and to the very design and use of them? They were first begun, and raised to the highest perfection, in the eastern countries, where they wrote in signs, and spoke in parables, and delivered the most useful precepts in delightful stories; which, for their aptness, were entertaining to the most judicious, and led the vulgar into understanding by surprizing them with their novelty, and fixing their attention. All their fables carry a double meaning; the story is one and entire; the characters the same throughout, not broken or changed, and always conformable to the nature of the creatures they introduce. They never tell you, that the dog, which snapt at a shadow, lost his troop of horse; that would be unintelligible; a piece of flesh is proper for him to drop, and the reader will apply it to mankind: They would not say, that the daw, who was so proud of her borrowed plumes, looked very ridiculous, when Rodriguez came and took away all the book but the 17th, 24th, and 25th chapters, which she stole from him. But this is his new way of telling a story, and confounding the moral and the fable together.

Before the word was written, said the hind, Our Saviour preached the faith to all mankind.

What relation has the hind to our Saviour? or what notion have we of a panther's bible? If you say he means the church, how does the church feed on lawns, or range in the forest? Let it be always a church, or always the cloven-footed beast, for we cannot bear his shifting the scene every line. If it is absurd in comedies to make a peasant talk in the strain of a hero, or a country wench use the language of the court, how monstrous is it to make a priest of a hind, and a parson of a panther? To bring them in disputing with all the formalities and terms of the school? Though as to the arguments themselves, those we confess are suited to the capacity of the beasts; and if we would suppose a hind expressing herself about these matters, she would talk at that rate."

The reader may be curious to see a specimen of the manner in which these two applauded wits encountered Dryden's controversial poem, with such eminent success, that a contemporary author has said, "that 'The City and Country Mouse' ruined the reputation of the divine, as the 'Rehearsal' ruined the reputation of the poet."[76] The plan is a dialogue between Bayes, and Smith, and Johnson, his old friends in the "Rehearsal;" the poet recites to them a new work, in which the Popish and English churches are represented as the city and country mouse, the former spotted, the latter milk-white. The following is a specimen both of the poetry and dialogue:

"_Bayes. Reads._ With these allurements, Spotted did invite, From hermit's cell, the female proselyte. Oh, with what ease we follow such a guide, Where souls are starved, and senses gratified!

"Now, would not you think she's going? but, egad, you're mistaken; you shall hear a long argument about infallibility before she stir yet:

But here the White, by observation wise, Who long on heaven had fixed her prying eyes, With thoughtful countenance, and grave remark, Said, "Or my judgment fails me, or 'tis dark; Lest, therefore, we should stray, and not go right, Through the brown horror of the starless night, Hast thou Infallibility, that wight?" Sternly the savage grinned, and thus replied, "That mice may err, was never yet denied." "That I deny," said the immortal dame, "There is a guide,--Gad, I've forgot his name,-- Who lives in Heaven or Rome, the Lord knows where; Had we but him, sweet-heart, we could not err.-- But hark ye, sister, this is but a whim, For still we want a guide to find out him."

"Here, you see, I don't trouble myself to keep on the narration, but write White speaks, or Dapple speaks, by the side. But when I get any noble thought, which I envy a mouse should say, I clap it down in my own person, with a _poeta loquitur_; which, take notice, is a surer sign of a fine thing in my writings, than a hand in the margent anywhere else.--Well now, says White,

What need we find him? we have certain proof That he is somewhere, dame, and that's enough; For if there is a guide that knows the way, Although we know not him, we cannot stray.

"That's true, egad: Well said, White.--You see her adversary has nothing to say for herself; and, therefore, to confirm the victory, she shall make a simile.

_Smith._ Why, then, I find similes are as good after victory, as after a surprize.

_Bayes_. Every jot, egad; or rather better. Well, she can do it two ways; either about emission or reception of light, or else about Epsom waters: But I think the last is most familiar; therefore speak, my pretty one. [_Reads._]

As though 'tis controverted in the school, If waters pass by urine, or by stool; Shall we, who are philosophers, thence gather, From this dissention, that they work by neither?

"And, egad, she's in the right on't; but, mind now, she comes upon her scoop. [_Reads._]

All this I did, your arguments to try.

"And, egad, if they had been never so good, this next line confutes 'em. [_Reads._]

Hear, and be dumb, thou wretch! that guide am I.

"There's a surprize for you now!--How sneakingly t'other looks?--Was not that pretty now, to make her ask for a guide first, and tell her she was one? Who could have thought that this little mouse had the Pope, and a whole general council, in her belly?--Now Dapple had nothing to say to this; and, therefore, you'll see she grows peevish. [_Reads._]

Come leave your cracking tricks; and, as they say,} Use not that barber that trims time, delay;-- } Which, egad, is new, and my own.-- } I've eyes as well as you to find the way."-- } Then on they jogged; and, since an hour of talk Might cut a banter on the tedious walk, "As I remember," said the sober Mouse, "I've heard much talk of the Wit's Coffee-house." "Thither," says Brindle, "thou shalt go, and see Priests sipping coffee, sparks and poets tea, Here, rugged frieze; there, quality well drest; These, baffling the Grand Seigneur; those, the Test; And here shrewd guesses made, and reasons given, That human laws were never made in heaven. But, above all, what shall oblige thy sight, And fill thy eye-balls with a vast delight, Is the poetic Judge of sacred wit,[77] Who does i'the darkness of glory sit. And as the moon, who first receives the light With which she makes these nether regions bright, So does he shine, reflecting from afar The rays he borrowed from a better star; For rules, which from Corneille and Rapin flow, Admired by all the scribbling herd below, From French tradition while he does dispense, } Unerring truths, 'tis schism,--a damned offence,--} To question his, or trust your private sense. }

"Ha! is not that right, Mr Johnson?--Gad forgive me, he is fast asleep! Oh the damned stupidity of this age! Asleep!--Well, sir, since you're so drowsy, your humble servant.

_John._ Nay, pray, Mr Bayes! Faith, I heard you all the while.--The white mouse----

_Bayes._ The white mouse! Ay, ay, I thought how you heard me. Your servant, sir, your servant.

_John._ Nay, dear Bayes: Faith, I beg thy pardon, I was up late last night. Prithee, lend me a little snuff, and go on.

_Bayes._ Go on! Pox, I don't know where I was.--Well, I'll begin. Here, mind, now they are both come to town. [_Reads._]

But now at Piccadilly they arrive, And, taking coach, t'wards Temple-Bar they drive; But, at St Clement's church, eat out the back, And, slipping through the palsgrave, bilked poor hack.

"There's the _utile_ which ought to be in all poetry. Many a young Templar will save his shilling by this stratagem of my mice.

_Smith._ Why, will any young Templar eat out the back of a coach?

_Bayes._ No, egad! But you'll grant, it is mighty natural for a mouse."--_Hind and Panther Transversed._

Such was the wit, which, bolstered up by the applause of party, was deemed an unanswerable ridicule of Dryden's favourite poem.]

[Footnote 76: Preface to the Second Part of "The Reasons of Mr Bayes changing his Religion."]

[Footnote 77: i.e. _Dryden himself_.]

[Footnote 78: I know not, however, but a critic might here also point out an example of that discrepancy, which is censured by Johnson, and ridiculed by Prior. The cause of dissatisfaction in the pigeon-house is, that the proprietor chuses rather to feed upon the flesh of his domestic poultry, than upon theirs; no very rational cause of mutiny on the part of the doves.]

[Footnote 79: Butler, however, assigns the Bear-Garden as a type of my Mother Kirk; and the resemblance is thus proved by Ralpho:

Synods are mystical bear-gardens, Where elders, deputies, church-wardens, And other members of the court, Manage the Babylonish sport; For prolocutor, scribe, and bear-ward, Do differ only in a mere word; Both are but several synagogues Of carnal men, and bears, and dogs; Both antichristian assemblies, To mischief bent as far's in them lies; Both slave and toil with fierce contests, The one with men, the other beasts: The difference is, the one fights with The tongue, the other with the teeth; And that they bait but bears in this, In t'other souls and consciences.

Hudibras denies the resemblance, and answers by an appeal to the senses:

For bears and dogs on four legs go As beasts, but synod-men have two; 'Tis true, they all have teeth and nails, But prove that synod-men have tails; Or that a rugged shaggy fur Grows o'er the hide of presbyter; Or that his snout and spacious ears Do hold proportion with a bear's. A bear's a savage beast, of all Most ugly and unnatural; Whelped without form, until the dam Has licked it into shape and frame; But all thy light can ne'er evict, That ever synod-man was lickt, Or brought to any other fashion, Than his own will and inclination.

_Hudibras_, Part 1. Canto 3. ]

[Footnote 80: "In short, the whole poem, if it may deserve that name, is a piece of deformed, arrogant nonsense, and self-contradiction, drest up in fine language, like an ugly brazen-faced whore, peeping through the costly trappings of a _point de Venise cornet_. I call it nonsense, because unseasonable; and arrogant, because impertinent: For could Mr Bayes have so little wit, to think himself a sufficient champion to decide the high mysteries of faith and transubstantiation, and the nice disputes concerning traditions and infallibility, in a discourse between "The Hind and the Panther," which, undetermined hitherto, have exercised all the learning in the world? Or, could he think the grand arcana of divinity a subject fit to be handled in flourishing rhyme, by the author of "The Duke of Guise," or "The Conquest of Peru," or "The Spanish Friar:" Doubts which Mr Bayes is no more able to unfold, than Saffold to resolve a question in astrology. And all this only as a tale to usher in his beloved character, and to shew the excellency of his wit in abusing honest men. If these were his thoughts, as we cannot rationally otherwise believe, seeing that no man of understanding will undertake an enterprise, wherein he does not think himself to have some advantage of his predecessors; then does this romance, I say, of The Panther and the Hind, fall under the most fatal censure of unseasonable folly and saucy impertinence. Nor can I think, that the more solid, prudent, and learned persons of the Roman Church, con him any thanks for laying the prophane fingers of a turn-coat upon the altar of their sacred debates."--_The Revolter_, a tragi-comedy, acted between The Hind and Panther and Religio Laici, &c. 1687.]

[Footnote 81: The following is the commencement of his "Reflections on the Hind and Panther," in a letter to a friend, 1687:

"The present you have made me of "The Hind and Panther," is variously talked of here in the country. Some wonder what kind of champion the Roman Catholics have now gotten; for they have had divers ways of representing themselves; but this of rhyming us to death, is altogether new and unheard of, before Mr Bayes set about it; and, indeed, he hath done it in the sparkishest poem that ever was seen. 'Tis true, he hath written a great many things; but he never had such pure swiftness of thought, as in this composition, nor such fiery flights of fancy. Such hath always been his dramatical and scenical way of scribbling, that there was no post nor pillar in the town exempt from the pasting up of the titles of his plays; insomuch, that the footboys, for want of skill in reading, do now (as we hear) often bring away, by mistake, the title of a new book against the Church of England, instead of taking down the play for the afternoon. Yet, if he did it well or handsomely, he might deserve some pardon; but, alas! how ridiculously doth he appear in print for any religion, who hath made it his business to laugh at all! How can he stand up for any mode of worship, who hath been accustomed to bite, and spit his venom against the very name thereof?

"Wherefore, I cannot but wish our adversaries joy on their new-converted hero, Mr Bayes; whose principle it is to fight single with whole armies; and this one quality he prefers before all the moral virtues put together. The Roman Catholics may talk what they will, of their Bellarmine and Perrone, their Hector and Achilles, and I know not who; but I desire them all, to shew one such champion for the cause, as this Drawcansir: For he is the man that kills whole nations at once; who, as he never wrote any thing, that any one can imagine has ever been the practice of the world, so, in his late endeavours to pen controversy, you shall hardly find one word to the purpose. He is that accomplished person, who loves reasoning so much in verse, and hath got a knack of writing it smoothly. The subject (he treats of in this poem) did, in his opinion, require more than ordinary spirit and flame; therefore, he supposed it to be too great for prose; for he is too proud to creep servilely after sense; so that, in his verse, he soars high above the reach of it. To do this, there is no need of brain, 'tis but scanning right; the labour is in the finger, not in the head.

"However, if Mr Bayes would be pleased to abate a little of the exuberancy of his fancy and wit; to dispense with his ornaments and superfluencies of invention and satire, a man might consider, whether he should submit to his argument; but take away the railing, and no argument remains; so that one may beat the bush a whole day, and, after so much labour, only spring a butterfly, or start a hedge-hog.

"For all this, is it not great pity to see a man, in the flower of his romantic conceptions, in the full vigour of his studies on love and honour, to fall into such a distraction, as to walk through the thorns and briars of controversy, unless his confessor hath commanded it, as a penance for some past sins? that a man, who hath read Don Quixote for the greatest part of his life, should pretend to interpret the Bible, or trace the footsteps of tradition, even in the darkest ages?"--_Four Letters_, &c.]

[Footnote 82: "To draw now to an end, Mr Bayes, I hear, has lately complained, at Willis' Coffeehouse, of the ill usage he has met in the world; that whereas he had the generosity and assurance to set his own name to his late piece of polemic poetry, yet others, who have pretended to answer him, wanted the breeding and civility to do the like: Now, because I would not willingly disoblige a person of Mr Bayes's character, I do here fairly, and before all the world, assure him that my name is Dudly Tomkinson, and that I live within two miles of St Michael's Mount, in Cornwall, and have, in my time, been both constable, church-warden, and overseer of the parish; by the same token, that the little gallery next the belfry, the new motto about the pulpit, the king's arms, the ten commandments, and the great sun-dial in the church-yard, will transmit my name to all posterity. Furthermore, (if it will do him any good at all) I can make a pretty shift to read without spectacles; wear my own hair, which is somewhat inclining to red; have a large mole on my left cheek; am mightily troubled with corns; and, what is peculiar to my constitution, after half-a-dozen bottles of claret, which I generally carry home every night from the tavern, I never fail of a stool or two next morning; besides, use to smoke a pipe every day after dinner, and afterwards steal a nap for an hour or two in the old wicker-chair near the oven; take gentle purgatives spring and fall; and it has been my custom, any time these sixteen years, (as all the parish can testify) to ride in Gambadoes. Nay, to win the heart of him for ever, I invite him here, before the courteous reader, to a country regale, (provided he will before hand promise not to debauch my wife,) where he shall have sugar to his roast beef, and vinegar to his butter; and lastly, to make him amends for the tediousness of the journey, a parcel of relics to carry home with him, which I believe can scarce be matched in the whole Christian world; but, because I have no great fancy that way, I don't care if I part with them to so worthy a person; they are as followeth:

"St Gregory's Ritual, bound up in the same calve's-skin that the old gentleman, in St Luke, roasted at the return of his prodigal son.

"The quadrant that a Philistine tailor took the height of Goliah by, when he made him his last suit of clothes; for the giant being a man of extraordinary dimensions, it was impossible to do this in any other way than your designers use when they take the height of a country-steeple," &c. &c.--_Reasons for Mr Bayes changing his Religion._ See Preface.]

[Footnote 83: THE LAUREAT.

_Jack Squab's history, in a little drawn, Down to his evening from his morning dawn._

(Bought by Mr Luttrel, 24th October, 1687.)

Appear, thou mighty bard, to open view; Which yet, we must confess, you need not do. The labour to expose thee we may save; Thou standst upon thy own records a knave, Condemned to live in thy apostate rhymes, The curse of ours, and scoff of future times. Still tacking round with every turn of state, } Reverse to Shaftesbury, thy cursed fate } Is always, at a change, to come too late. } To keep his plots from coxcombs, was his care; His villainy was masked, and thine is bare. Wise men alone could guess at his design, } And could but guess, the threads were spun so fine; } But every purblind fool may see through thine. } Had Dick still kept the regal diadem, Thou hadst been poet laureat still to him, And, long ere now, in lofty verse proclaimed His high extraction, among princes famed; Diffused his glorious deed from pole to pole, Where winds can carry, or where waves can roll: Nay, had our Charles, by heaven's severe decree, Been found and murdered in the royal tree, Even thou hadst praised the fact; his father slain, Thou callest but gently breathing of a vein. Impious and villainous, to bless the blow } That laid at once three lofty nations low, } And gave the royal cause a fatal overthrow! } Scandal to all religions, new and old; } Scandal to them, where pardon's bought and sold, } And mortgaged happiness redeemed for gold. } Tell me, for 'tis a truth you must allow, Who ever changed more in one moon than thou? Even thy own Zimri was more stedfast known, He had but one religion, or had none. What sect of Christians is't thou hast not known, And at one time or other made thy own? A bristled baptist bred, and then thy strain Immaculate was far from sinful stain; No songs, in those blest times, thou didst produce, To brand and shame good manners out of use; The ladies had not then one b---- bob, Nor thou the courtly name of Poet Squab. Next, thy dull muse, an independant jade, On sacred tyranny fine stanzas made; Praised Noll, who even to both extremes did run, To kill the father and dethrone the son. When Charles came in, thou didst a convert grow, More by thy interest, than thy nature so; Under his 'livening beams thy laurels spread; } He first did place that wreath about thy head, } Kindly relieved thy wants, and gave thee bread. } Here 'twas thou mad'st thy bells of fancy chime, And choked the town with suffocating rhyme; Till heroes, formed by thy creating pen, Were grown as cheap and dull as other men. Flushed with success, full gallery and pit, Thou bravest all mankind with want of wit; Nay, in short time wer't grown so proud a ninny, As scarce to allow that Ben himself had any; But when the men of sense thy error saw, They checked thy muse, and kept the termagant in awe. To satire next thy talent was addrest, Fell foul on all, thy friends among the rest: Those who the oft'nest did thy wants supply, Abused, traduced, without a reason why; Nay, even thy royal patron was not spared, But an obscene, a santring wretch declared. Thy loyal libel we can still produce; Beyond example, and beyond excuse. O strange return to a forgiving king! But the warmed viper wears the greatest sting. Thy pension lost, and justly without doubt; When servants snarl, we ought to kick 'em out; They that disdain their benefactor's bread, No longer ought by bounty to be fed. That lost, the visor changed, you turn about, And straight a true blue Protestant crept out. The "Friar" now was writ; and some will say, They smell a mal-content through all the play. The Papist too was damned, unfit for trust, } Called treacherous, shameless, profligate, unjust; } And kingly power thought arbitrary lust. } This lasted till thou didst thy pension gain, And that changed both thy morals and thy strain. If to write contradictions nonsense be, Who has more nonsense in their works than thee? We'll mention but thy Layman's Faith and Hind: Who'll think both these, such clashing do we find, Could be the product of one single mind! Here thou wouldst charitable fain appear, Find fault that Athanasius was severe; Thy pity straight to cruelty is raised, And even the pious inquisition praised, And recommended to the present reign, "O happy countries, Italy and Spain!" Have we not cause, in thine own words, to say, } Let none believe what varies every day, } That never was, nor will be, at a stay? } Once heathens might be saved, you did allow, But not, it seems, we greater heathens now. The loyal church, that buoys the kingly line, Damned with a breath, but 'tis such a breath as thine. What credit to thy party can it be, To have gained so lewd a profligate as he, Strayed from our fold, makes us to laugh, not weep; We have but lost what was disgrace to keep. By them mistrusted, and to us a scorn; For 'tis but weakness at the best to turn. True, hadst thou left us in the former reign, } Y'had proved it was not wholly done for gain; } Now the meridian sun is not so plain. } Gold is thy god; for a substantial sum, } Thou to the Turk wouldst run away from Rome, } And sing his holy expedition against Christendom. } But, to conclude; blush with a lasting red, If thou'rt not moved by what's already said, To see thy boars, bears, buzzards, wolves, and owls, And all thy other beasts and other fowls, Routed by two poor mice (unequal fight!); But easy 'tis to conquer in the right. See, there a youth, (a shame to thy gray hairs) Make a mere dunce of all thy threescore years. What in that tedious poem hast thou done, But crammed all Esop's fables into one? But why do I the precious minutes spend On him, that would much rather hang than mend? No, wretch, continue still just as thou art, Thou'rt now in this last scene that crowns thy part. To purchase favour veer with every gale, } And against interest never cease to rail, } Though thou'rt the only proof how interest can prevail. } ]

FOOTNOTE:

[Footnote 84: "Tale of a Tub," first part. "Tommy Potts" is a silly popular ballad, for which see Ritson's "Ancient Songs."]

THE

PREFACE.

The nation is in too high a ferment, for me to expect either fair war, or even so much as fair quarter, from a reader of the opposite party. All men are engaged either on this side or that; and though conscience is the common word which is given by both, yet if a writer fall among enemies, and cannot give the marks of _their_ conscience, he is knocked down before the reasons of his own are heard. A preface, therefore, which is but a bespeaking of favour, is altogether useless. What I desire the reader should know concerning me, he will find in the body of the poem, if he have but the patience to peruse it. Only this advertisement let him take before-hand, which relates to the merits of the cause.

No general characters of parties (call them either sects or churches) can be so fully and exactly drawn, as to comprehend all the several members of them; at least all such as are received under that denomination. For example; there are some of the church by law established, who envy not liberty of conscience to dissenters; as being well satisfied that, according to their own principles, they ought not to persecute them. Yet these, by reason of their fewness, I could not distinguish from the numbers of the rest, with whom they are embodied in one common name. On the other side, there are many of our sects, 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 these is this satire any way intended: it is aimed only at the refractory and disobedient on either side. For those, who are come over to the royal party, are consequently supposed to be out of gun-shot.[85] Our physicians have observed, that, in process of time, some diseases have abated of their virulence, and have in a manner worn out their malignity, so as to be no longer mortal; and why may not I suppose the same concerning some of those, 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 persecution is far from being an article of our faith.[86]

It is not for any private man to censure the proceedings of a foreign prince:[87] but, without suspicion of flattery, I may praise our own, who has taken contrary measures, and those more suitable to the spirit of Christianity. Some of the dissenters, in their addresses to his majesty, have said, "That he has restored God to his empire over conscience."[88] I confess, I dare not stretch the figure to so great a boldness: but I may safely say, that conscience is the royalty and prerogative of every private man. He is absolute in his own breast, and accountable to no earthly power for that which passes 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 sects, it ought in reason 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 persecutors, what is it else but publicly to own, that they suffered not before for conscience-sake, but only out of pride and obstinacy, to separate from a church for those impositions, which they now judge may be lawfully obeyed? After they have so long contended for their classical ordination (not to speak of rites and ceremonies) will they at length submit to an episcopal? If they can go so far, out of complaisance to their old enemies, methinks a little reason should persuade them to take another step, and see whither that will lead them.[89]

Of the receiving this toleration thankfully, I shall say no more, than that they ought, and I doubt not they will consider from what hand they received it. It is not from a Cyrus, a heathen prince, and a foreigner,[90] but from a christian king, their native sovereign; who expects a return in specie from them, that the kindness, which he has graciously shewn them, may be retaliated on those of his own persuasion.

As for the poem in general, I will only thus far satisfy the reader, that it was neither imposed on me, nor so much as the subject given me by any man. It was written during the last winter, and the beginning of this spring; 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 so soon expected, I might have spared myself the labour of writing many things which are contained in the third part of it. But I was always in some hope, that the church of England might have been persuaded to have taken off the penal laws and the test, which was one design of the poem, when I proposed to myself the writing of it.

It is evident that some part of it was only occasional, and not first intended: I mean that defence of myself, to which every honest 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 duchess, (in which last I was concerned) how charitably I have been represented there.[91] 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 severe reprehension than I gave him formerly, for using so little respect to the memory of those, whom he pretended to answer; and, at his leisure, look out for some original treatise of humility, written by any Protestant in English; (I believe I may say in any other tongue:) for the magnified piece of Duncombe on that subject, which either he must mean, or none, and with which another of his fellows has upbraided me, was translated from the Spanish of Rodriguez; though with the omission of the seventeenth, the twenty-fourth, the twenty-fifth, and the last chapter, which will be found in comparing of the books.[92]

He would have insinuated to the world, that her late Highness died not a Roman Catholic. He declares himself to be now satisfied 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 preposterously, let all men judge, when he seemed to deny the subject of the controversy, the change itself.[93] And because I would not take up this ridiculous challenge, he tells the world I cannot argue: but he may as well infer, that a Catholic cannot fast, because he will not take up the cudgels against Mrs James,[94] to confute the Protestant religion.

I have but one word more to say concerning the poem as such, and abstracting 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 raise, and give it the majestic turn of heroic poesy. The Second, being matter of dispute, and chiefly concerning church authority, I was obliged to make as plain and perspicuous as possibly I could; yet not wholly neglecting the numbers, though I had not frequent occasions for the magnificence of verse. 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 design; so that they are properly parts of it, though they are also distinct stories of themselves. In both of these I have made use of the common-places of satire, 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 scandalized, because they are not of my invention, but as old, to my knowledge, as the times of Boccace and Chaucer on the one side, and as those of the Reformation on the other.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 85: The tumultuary joy of the sectaries, upon their first view of this triumph over the church of England, led them into all the extravagancies of loyalty, which used to be practised by their ancient enemies the Tories. Addresses teeming with affection, and foaming with bombast, were poured in upon King James from all corners of his dominions; Presbyterians, Anabaptists, Quakers, Sectaries of all sorts and persuasions, strove to be foremost in the race of gratitude. And when similar addresses came in from corporations, who had been formerly anxious to shew their loyalty on the subject of the Rye-house plot, the king's accession, and other occasions of triumph to the Tories, the tone of these bodies also was wonderfully changed; and, instead of raving against excluders, rebels, regicides, republicans, and fanatics, whose hellish contrivances endeavoured to destroy the safety of the kingdom, and the life of the king, these same gentlemen mention the Sectaries as their brethren and fellow-subjects, to whom the king, their common father, had been justly, liberally, royally pleased to grant freedom of conscience, for which the addressers offer their hearty and unfeigned thanks. These were the two classes of persons, whom Dryden, as they had closed with the measures of government, declares to be exempted from his satire. Those, therefore, against whom it is avowedly directed, are first, the Church of England, whose adherents saw her destruction aimed at through the pretence of toleration. 2dly, Those Sectaries, who distrusted the boon which the king presented, and feared that the consequences of this immediate indulgence at the hands of an ancient enemy, would be purchased by future persecution. These formed a body, small at first, but whose numbers daily increased.

Among the numerous addresses which were presented to the court on this occasion, there are two somewhat remarkable from the quality and condition of the persons in whose name they are offered. The one is from the persons engaged in the schemes of Shaftesbury and Monmouth, and who set out by acknowledging their lives and fortunes forfeited to King James; a singular instance of convicts offering their sentiments upon state affairs. The other is from no less a corporation than the company of London Cooks, which respectable persons declare their approbation of the indulgence, upon a principle recognized in their profession, "the difference of _men's gusto_, in religion, as in eatables;" and assure his majesty, that his declaration "somewhat resembles the Almighty's manna, which suited every man's palate." _History of Addresses_, pp. 106, 132.]

[Footnote 86: Most readers will, I think, acknowledge with me, the extreme awkwardness with which Dryden apologizes, for hoping well of those Sectaries, against whom he had so often discharged the utmost severity of his pen. Yet there is much real truth in the observation, though the compliment to the new allies of the Catholics is but a cold one. Many sects have distinguished themselves by faction, fanaticism, and furious excess at their rise, which, when their spirits have ceased to be agitated by novelty, and exasperated by persecution, have subsided into quiet orderly classes of citizens, only remarkable for some peculiarities of speculative doctrine.]

[Footnote 87: Alluding to the persecution of the Huguenots in France, after the recall of the edict of Nantes.]

[Footnote 88: This phrase occurs in the address of the Ministers of the Gospel in and about the city of London, commonly called Presbyterians: "Your majesty's princely wisdom," say these reverend sycophants, "now rescues us from our long sufferings, and by the same royal act restores God to the empire over conscience." This it is to be too eloquent; when people set no bounds to their rhetoric, it betrays them often into nonsense, and not seldom into blasphemy.--_History of Addresses_, p. 107.]

[Footnote 89: A gentle insinuation, that, if the sectaries could renounce the ordination by presbyteries or classes, in favour of the church of England, it would require but a step or two farther to bring them to a conformity with that of Rome.]

[Footnote 90: Who freed the Jews from their bondage, and gave them permission to rebuild their city and temple.--See the _Book of Esdras_.]

[Footnote 91: In his ardour for extending the Catholic religion, James II. had directed copies of the papers found in his brother's strongbox in favour of that communion, with the copy of a paper by his first duchess, giving the reasons for her conversion to that faith, to be printed, and circulated through the kingdom. These papers were answered by the learned Stillingfleet, then Dean of St Paul's. A Defence of the Papers was published "by command," of which it appears, from the passage in the text, that our author wrote the third part, which applies to the Duchess of York's paper. Stillingfleet published a vindication of his answer, in which he attacks our author with some severity. A full account of the controversy will be found attached to Dryden's part of the Defence, among his prose works.]

[Footnote 92: In the controversy between Dryden and Stillingfleet, the former had concluded his Defence of the Duchess of York's paper, by alleging, that "among all the volumes of divinity written by the Protestants, there is not one original treatise, at least that I have seen or heard of, which has handled distinctly, and by itself, the Christian virtue of humility." This Stillingfleet, in his reply, calls a "bare-faced assertion of a thing known to be false;" for, "with-in a few years, besides what has been printed formerly, such a book hath been published in London." Dryden, in the text, replies to this allegation, that Duncombe's treatise, which he supposes to be meant, is a translation from the Spanish of Rodriguez, therefore, not originally a Protestant work. Montague, in the preface to "The Hind and Panther Transversed" alleges, that Dryden has mistaken the name of the author of the treatise alluded to; which was not, he asserts, Duncombe, but Allen. See the matter more fully canvassed in a note on the original passage, in "The Duchess of York's Paper Defended."]

[Footnote 93: Dryden is not quite candid in his statement. In Stillingfleet's answer to the Duchess's paper, it is indeed called, the "paper _said_ to be written by a great lady;" but there is not another word upon the authority, which, indeed, considering it was published under the king's immediate inspection, could not be very decorously disputed. Dryden seizes upon this phrase in his defence, and, coupling with it some expressions of the Bishop of Winchester, he argues that it was the intention of these sons of the church of England, to give the lie to their sovereign. In this vindication of the answer, Stillingfleet thus expresses himself: "As to the main design of the third paper, I declared, that I considered it, as it was supposed to contain the reasons and motives of the conversion of so great a lady to the church of Rome.

"But this gentleman has now eased me of the necessity of farther considering it on that account. For he declares, that none of those motives or reasons are to be found in the paper of her highness. Which he repeats several times. 'She writ this paper, not as to the reasons she had herself for changing, &c.' 'As for her reasons, they were only betwixt God and her own soul, and the priest with whom she spoke at last.'

"And so my work is at an end as to her paper. For I never intended to ransack the private papers or secret narratives of great persons; and I do not in the least question the relation now given from so great authority, as that he mentions of the passages concerning her; and therefore I have nothing more to say as to what relates to the person of the duchess."

It is obvious that Dryden, probably finding the divine too hard for him on the controversial part of the subject, affects to consider the dispute as entirely limited to the authenticity of the paper, which it cannot be supposed Stillingfleet ever seriously intended to impeach.]

[Footnote 94: Eleanor James, a lady who was at this period pleased to stand up as a champion for the test, against the repeal which James had so deeply at heart. This female theologian is mentioned in the "Remarks from the country, upon the two Letters, relating to the convocation, and alterations in the liturgy." "It is a thousand pities, so instructive and so eloquent papers should ever fall under such an imputation, (of being too forward, and solemn impertinence,) and be ranked among the scribblings of Eleanor James, with this only advantage of having better language, whereas the woman counsellor is judged to have the better meaning." Although Mrs James's lucubrations were thus vilipended by the male disputants, one of her own sex thought it necessary to enter the lists in opposition to her. _See Elizabeth Rone's short Answer to Eleanor James's Long Preamble, or Vindication of the New Test_:

The book called Mistress James's Vindication, Does seem to me but her great indignation; Against the Romans and dissenters too, She for the church of England makes adoe; Calling her Christ's spouse, but she's mistaken, Christ's spouse is she that is by her forsaken.

Mrs James's work was entitled, "A Vindication of the Church of England, in answer to a pamphlet, entitled, a New Test of the Church of England's Loyalty." She was herself the wife of a printer, who left many books to the library of Sion college. Mrs James's picture is preserved in the library, in the full dress of a citizen's wife of that period. She survived her husband many years, and carried on the printing business on her own account.--MALONE, Vol. III. p. 539.]

THE

HIND AND THE PANTHER.

A milk-white Hind,[95] immortal and unchanged, Fed on the lawns, and in the forest ranged; Without unspotted, innocent within, She feared no danger, for she knew no sin. Yet had she oft been chased with horns and hounds, And Scythian shafts; and many winged wounds Aimed at her heart; was often forced to fly, And doomed to death, though fated not to die.[96] Not so her young; for their unequal line Was hero's make, half human, half divine. Their earthly mould obnoxious was to fate, The immortal part assumed immortal state. Of these a slaughtered army lay in blood,[97] Extended o'er the Caledonian wood, Their native walk; whose vocal blood arose, And cried for pardon on their perjured foes. Their fate was fruitful, and the sanguine seed, Endued with souls, increased the sacred breed. So captive Israel multiplied in chains, A numerous exile, and enjoyed her pains. With grief and gladness mixed, the mother viewed Her martyr'd offspring, and their race renewed; Their corps to perish, but their kind to last, So much the deathless plant the dying fruit surpassed. Panting and pensive now she ranged alone, And wandered in the kingdoms, once her own. The common hunt, though from their rage restrained By sovereign power, her company disdained, Grinned as they passed, and with a glaring eye Gave gloomy signs of secret enmity 'Tis true, she bounded by, and trip'd so light, They had not time to take a steady sight; For truth has such a face and such a mien, As to be loved needs only to be seen. The bloody Bear, an independent beast, Unlicked to form, in groans her hate exprest.[98] Among the timorous kind, the quaking Hare Professed neutrality, but would not swear.[99] Next her the buffoon Ape, as atheists use, Mimicked all sects, and had his own to chuse; Still when the Lion looked, his knees he bent, And paid at church a courtier's compliment.[100] The bristled baptist Boar, impure as he,[101] But whitened with the foam of sanctity, With fat pollutions filled the sacred place,} And mountains levelled in his furious race; } So first rebellion founded was in grace. } But since the mighty ravage, which he made In German forests, had his guilt betrayed, With broken tusks, and with a borrowed name, He shunned the vengeance, and concealed the shame; So lurked in sects unseen. With greater guile False Reynard fed on consecrated spoil;[102] The graceless beast by Athanasius first Was chased from Nice, then by Socinus nursed; His impious race their blasphemy renewed, And nature's king through nature's optics viewed. Reversed, they viewed him lessened to their eye, Nor in an infant could a God descry; New swarming sects to this obliquely tend, Hence they began, and here they all will end. What weight of antient witness can prevail, If private reason hold the public scale? But, gracious God, how well dost thou provide For erring judgments an unerring guide! Thy throne is darkness in the abyss of light, A blaze of glory that forbids the sight. O teach me to believe thee, thus concealed, And search no farther than thyself revealed; But her alone for my director take, Whom thou hast promised never to forsake! My thoughtless youth was winged with vain desires; My manhood, long misled by wandering fires, Followed false lights; and, when their glimpse was gone, My pride struck out new sparkles of her own. Such was I, such by nature still I am; Be thine the glory, and be mine the shame! Good life be now my task; my doubts are done;[103] What more could fright my faith, than three in one? Can I believe eternal God could lie } Disguised in mortal mould, 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 shall my sight, and touch, and taste rebel? Superior faculties are set aside; Shall their subservient organs be my guide? Then let the moon usurp the rule of day, And winking tapers shew the sun his way; For what my senses can themselves perceive, I need no revelation to believe. Can they, who say the host should be descried By sense, define a body glorified? Impassable, and penetrating parts? Let them declare by what mysterious arts He shot that body through the opposing might, } Of bolts and bars impervious to the light, } And stood before his train confessed in open sight.[104]} For since thus wondrously he passed, 'tis plain, One single place two bodies did contain; And sure the same Omnipotence as well Can make one body in more places dwell. Let reason then at her own quarry fly, But how can finite grasp infinity? 'Tis urged again, that faith did first commence By miracles, which are appeals to sense, And thence concluded, that our sense must be The motive still of credibility; For latter ages must 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 those wonders wrought by power divine, As means or ends of some more deep design? Most sure as means, whose end was this alone, To prove the Godhead of the Eternal Son. God thus asserted, man is to believe Beyond what sense and reason can conceive, And, for mysterious 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 surer stay, We take the unuseful scaffolding away. Reason by sense no more can understand; The game is played into another hand. Why chuse we then like bilanders[105] to creep} Along the coast, and land in view to keep, } When safely we may launch into the deep? } In the same vessel, 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 second nourishment. And if he can, why all this frantic pain, } To construe what his clearest words contain,} And make a riddle what he made so 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 sums, and to compound the small; } For who would break with heaven, and would not break for all?} Rest then, my soul, from endless anguish freed; Nor sciences thy guide, nor sense thy creed. Faith is the best ensurer of thy bliss; The bank above must fail, before the venture miss. But heaven and heaven-born faith are far from thee, Thou first apostate to divinity. Unkennelled range in thy Polonian plains; A fiercer foe the insatiate Wolf remains. Too boastful Britain, please thyself no more, That beasts of prey are banished from thy shore; The bear, the boar, and every savage name, Wild in effect, though in appearance tame, Lay waste thy woods, destroy thy blissful bower, And, muzzled though they seem, the mutes devour. More haughty than the rest, the wolfish race} Appears with belly gaunt, and famished face;} Never was so deformed a beast of grace. } His ragged tail betwixt his legs he wears, } Close clap'd for shame; but his rough crest he rears,} And pricks up his predestinating ears.[106] } His wild disordered walk, his hagard eyes, Did all the bestial citizens surprise. Though feared and hated, yet he ruled a while, As captain or companion of the spoil. Full many a year his hateful head had been For tribute paid, nor since in Cambria seen; The last of all the litter 'scaped 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 Wickliffe's brood no mark he brings, But his innate antipathy to kings. These last deduce him from the Helvetian kind, Who near the Leman-lake his consort lined; That fiery Zuinglius first the affection bred, And meagre Calvin blest the nuptial bed. In Israel some believe him whelped long since, When the proud sanhedrim oppressed the prince; Or, since he will be Jew, derive him higher, When Corah with his brethren did conspire From Moses' hand the sovereign sway to wrest, And Aaron of his ephod to divest; 'Till opening earth made way for all to pass, And could not bear the burden of a class.[107] The Fox and he came shuffled in the dark, If ever they were stowed in Noah's ark; Perhaps not made; for all their barking train The dog (a common species) will contain; And some wild curs, who from their masters ran,} Abhorring the supremacy of man, } In woods and caves the rebel-race began. } O happy pair, how well have you increased! What ills in church and state have you redressed! With teeth untried, and rudiments of claws, Your first essay was on your native laws; Those having torn with ease, and trampled down,} Your fangs you fastened on the mitred crown, } And freed from God and monarchy your town. } What though your native kennel still be small, Bounded betwixt a puddle and a wall;[108] Yet your victorious colonies are sent Where the north ocean girds the continent. Quickened with fire below, your monsters breed In fenny Holland, and in fruitful Tweed; And, like the first, the last affects to be Drawn to the dregs of a democracy. As, where in fields the fairy rounds are seen, A rank sour herbage rises on the green; So, springing where those midnight elves advance, Rebellion prints the footsteps of the dance. Such are their doctrines, such contempt they show} To heaven above, and to their prince below, } As none but traitors and blasphemers know. } God like the tyrant of the skies is placed, And kings, like slaves, beneath the crowd debased. So fulsome is their food, that flocks refuse To bite, and only dogs for physic use. As, where the lightning runs along the ground, No husbandry can heal the blasting wound; Nor bladed grass, nor bearded corn succeeds, But scales of scurf and putrefaction breeds; Such wars, such waste, such fiery tracks of dearth Their zeal has left, and such a teemless earth. But, as the poisons of the deadliest kind Are to their own unhappy coasts confined; As only Indian shades of sight deprive, And magic plants will but in Colchos thrive; So presbytery and pestilential zeal Can only flourish in a commonweal. From Celtic woods is chased the wolfish crew;[109] But ah! some pity e'en to brutes is due; Their native walks, methinks, they might enjoy, Curbed of their native malice to destroy. Of all the tyrannies on human-kind, The worst is that which persecutes the mind. Let us but weigh at what offence we strike; 'Tis but because we cannot think alike. In punishing of this, we overthrow The laws of nations and of nature too. Beasts are the subjects of tyrannic sway, Where still the stronger on the weaker prey; Man only of a softer mould is made, Not for his fellows' ruin, but their aid; Created kind, beneficent and free, The noble image of the Deity. One portion of informing fire was given To brutes, the inferior family of heaven. The smith divine, as with a careless beat, Struck out the mute creation at a heat; But, when arrived at last to human race, The Godhead took a deep considering space; And, to distinguish man from all the rest, Unlocked the sacred treasures of his breast; And mercy mixt with reason did impart, One to his head, the other to his heart; Reason to rule, but mercy to forgive; The first is law, the last prerogative. And like his mind his outward form appeared, } When, issuing naked to the wondering herd, } He charmed their eyes; and, for they loved, they feared } Not armed with horns of arbitrary might, } Or claws to seize their furry spoils in fight, } Or with increase of feet to o'ertake them in their flight; } Of easy shape, and pliant every way, } Confessing still the softness of his clay, } And kind as kings upon their coronation day;[110]} With open hands, and with extended space Of arms, to satisfy a large embrace. Thus kneaded up with milk, the new-made man His kingdom o'er his kindred world began; Till knowledge misapplied, misunderstood, And pride of empire, soured his balmy blood. Then, first rebelling, his own stamp he coins; The murderer Cain was latent in his loins; And blood began its first and loudest cry, For differing worship of the Deity. Thus persecution rose, and farther space Produced the mighty hunter[111] of his race. Not so the blessed Pan[112] his flock increased, Content to fold them from the famished beast: Mild were his laws; the sheep and harmless hind Were never of the persecuting kind. Such pity now the pious pastor shows, } Such mercy from the British Lion flows,[113] } That both provide protection from their foes. } Oh happy regions, Italy and Spain, Which never did those monsters entertain! The Wolf, the Bear, the Boar, can there advance No native claim of just inheritance; And self-preserving laws, severe in show, May guard their fences from the invading foe. Where birth has placed them, let them safely share The common benefit of vital air; Themselves unharmful, let them live unharmed, Their jaws disabled, and their claws disarmed; Here, only in nocturnal howlings bold, They dare not seize the Hind, nor leap the fold. More powerful, and as vigilant as they, The Lion awfully forbids the prey. Their rage repressed, though pinched with famine sore, } They stand aloof, and tremble at his roar; } Much is their hunger, but their fear is more. } These are the chief; to number o'er the rest, And stand, like Adam, naming every beast, Were weary work; nor will the muse describe A slimy-born and sun-begotten tribe; Who, far from steeples and their sacred sound, In fields their sullen conventicles found.[114] These gross, half-animated, lumps I leave; Nor can I think what thoughts they can conceive. But if they think at all, 'tis sure no higher Than matter, put in motion, may aspire; Souls that can scarce ferment their mass of clay; } So drossy, so divisible are they, } As would but serve pure bodies for allay; } Such souls as shards produce, such beetle things As only buz to heaven with evening wings; Strike in the dark, offending but by chance, Such are the blindfold blows of ignorance. They know not beings, and but hate a name; To them the Hind and Panther are the same. The Panther, sure the noblest, next the Hind, And fairest creature of the spotted kind; Oh, could her in-born stains be washed away, She were too good to be a beast of prey! How can I praise, or blame, and not offend, Or how divide the frailty from the friend? Her faults and virtues lie so mixed, that she Nor wholly stands condemned, nor wholly free. Then, like her injured Lion, let me speak; He cannot bend her, and he would not break. Unkind already, and estranged in part, The Wolf begins to share her wandering heart. Though unpolluted yet with actual ill, She half commits who sins but in her will. If, as our dreaming platonists report, There could be spirits of a middle sort, Too black for heaven, and yet too white for hell, Who just dropt half-way down, nor lower fell;[115] So poised, so gently she descends from high, It seems a soft dismission from the sky. Her house not ancient, whatsoe'er pretence Her clergy-heralds make in her defence; A second century not half-way run, Since the new honours of her blood begun. A lion, old, obscene, and furious made By lust, compressed her mother in a shade; Then, by a left-hand marriage, weds the dame, Covering adultery with a specious name;[116] So schism begot; and sacrilege and she, A well matched pair, got graceless heresy. God's and kings' rebels have the same good cause, To trample down divine and human laws; Both would be called reformers, and their hate Alike destructive both to church and state. The fruit proclaims the plant; a lawless prince } By luxury reformed incontinence; } By ruins, charity; by riots, abstinence. } Confessions, fasts, and penance set aside, } Oh with what ease we follow such a guide, } Where souls are starved, and senses gratified! } Where marriage-pleasures midnight prayer supply, } And mattin bells, a melancholy cry, } Are tuned to merrier notes, Increase and multiply.[117] } Religion shews a rosy-coloured face; } Not hattered[118] out with drudging works of grace; } A down-hill reformation rolls apace. } What flesh and blood would crowd the narrow gate, } Or, till they waste their pampered paunches, wait? } All would be happy at the cheapest rate. } Though our lean faith these rigid laws has given, The full-fed Musselman goes fat to heaven; For his Arabian prophet with delights Of sense allured his eastern proselytes. The jolly Luther, reading him, began To interpret scriptures by his alcoran; To grub the thorns beneath our tender feet, And make the paths of paradise more sweet, Bethought him of a wife, ere half way gone, For 'twas uneasy travelling alone; And, in this masquerade of mirth and love, Mistook the bliss of heaven for Bacchanals above. Sure he presumed of praise, who came to stock The etherial pastures with so fair a flock, Burnished, and battening on their food, to show Their diligence of careful herds below.[119] Our Panther, though like these she changed her head, Yet, as the mistress of a monarch's bed,[120] Her front erect with majesty she bore, The crosier wielded, and the mitre wore. Her upper part of decent discipline Shewed affectation of an ancient line; And fathers, councils, church and churches head, Were on her reverend phylacteries[121] read. But what disgraced and disavowed the rest, Was Calvin's brand, that stigmatized the beast. Thus, like a creature of a double kind, In her own labyrinth she lives confined; To foreign lands no sound of her is come, Humbly content to be despised at home. Such is her faith, where good cannot be had, At least she leaves the refuse of the bad: Nice in her choice of ill, though not of best, And least deformed, because reformed the least. In doubtful points betwixt her differing friends, Where one for substance, one for sign contends, Their contradicting terms she strives to join;[122] Sign shall be substance, substance shall be sign. A real presence all her sons allow, } And yet 'tis flat idolatry to bow, } Because the god-head's there they know not how.} Her novices are taught, that bread and wine} Are but the visible and outward sign, } Received by those who in communion join; } But the inward grace, or the thing signified, His blood and body, who to save us died,[123] The faithful this thing signified receive: What is't those faithful then partake or leave? For, what is signified and understood, Is, by her own confession, flesh and blood. Then, by the same acknowledgment, we know They take the sign, and take the substance too. The literal sense is hard to flesh and blood, But nonsense never can be understood. Her wild belief on every wave is tost; But sure no church can better morals boast. True to her king her principles are found; Oh that her practice were but half so sound![124] Stedfast in various turns of state she stood, And sealed her vowed affection with her blood:[125] Nor will I meanly tax her constancy, } That interest or obligement made the tye,} Bound to the fate of murdered monarchy. } Before the sounding axe so falls the vine, Whose tender branches round the poplar twine. She chose her ruin, and resigned her life, In death undaunted as an Indian wife: A rare example! but some souls we see Grow hard, and stiffen with adversity: Yet these by fortune's favours are undone; } Resolved,[126] into a baser form they run, } And bore the wind, but cannot bear the sun.} Let this be nature's frailty, or her fate, Or Isgrim's counsel, her new-chosen mate,[127] Still she's the fairest of the fallen crew; No mother more indulgent, but the true. Fierce to her foes, yet fears her force to try, Because she wants innate authority; For how can she constrain them to obey, Who has herself cast off the lawful sway? Rebellion equals all, and those, who toil In common theft, will share the common spoil. Let her produce the title and the right, Against her old superiors first to fight; If she reform by text, even that's as plain For her own rebels to reform again. As long as words a different sense will bear, And each may be his own interpreter, Our airy faith will no foundation find, The word's a weathercock for every wind: The bear, the fox, the wolf, by turns prevail; The most in power supplies the present gale. The wretched Panther cries aloud for aid To church and councils, whom she first betrayed; No help from fathers or tradition's train: Those ancient guides she taught us to disdain, And by that scripture, which she once abused To reformation, stands herself accused.[128] What bills for breach of laws can she prefer, Expounding which she owns herself may err? And, after all her winding ways are tried, } If doubts arise, she slips herself aside, } And leaves the private conscience for the guide.} If, then, that conscience set the offender free, It bars her claim to church authority. How can she censure, or what crime pretend, But scripture may be construed to defend? Even those, whom for rebellion she transmits To civil power, her doctrine first acquits; Because no disobedience can ensue, Where no submission to a judge is due; Each judging for himself by her consent, Whom, thus absolved, she sends to punishment. Suppose the magistrate revenge her cause, 'Tis only for transgressing human laws. How answering to its end a church is made, Whose power is but to counsel and persuade? O solid rock, on which secure she stands! Eternal house, not built with mortal hands! O sure defence against the infernal gate, A patent during pleasure of the state! Thus is the Panther neither loved nor feared, A mere mock queen of a divided herd; Whom soon by lawful power she might controul, Herself a part submitted to the whole. Then, as the moon who first receives the light By which she makes our nether regions bright, So might she shine, reflecting from afar The rays she borrowed from a better star; Big with the beams which from her mother flow, And reigning o'er the rising tides below:[129] Now, mixing with a savage crowd, she goes, And meanly flatters her inveterate foes; Ruled while she rules, and losing every hour Her wretched remnants of precarious power. One evening, while the cooler shade she sought, Revolving many a melancholy thought, Alone she walked, and looked around in vain, With rueful visage, for her vanished train: None of her sylvan subjects made their court; Levées and couchées passed without resort. So hardly can usurpers manage well Those, whom they first instructed to rebel: More liberty begets desire of more; The hunger still increases with the store. Without respect, they brushed along the wood, } Each in his clan, and, filled with loathsome food,} Asked no permission to the neighbouring flood. } The Panther, full of inward discontent, Since they would go, before them wisely went; Supplying want of power by drinking first, As if she gave them leave to quench their thirst. Among the rest, the Hind, with fearful face, Beheld from far the common watering place, Nor durst approach; till with an awful roar The sovereign Lion bade her fear no more.[130] Encouraged thus, she brought her younglings nigh, Watching the motions of her patron's eye, And drank a sober draught; the rest, amazed, Stood mutely still, and on the stranger gazed; Surveyed her part by part, and sought to find} The ten-horned monster in the harmless Hind, } Such as the Wolf and Panther had designed.[131]} They thought at first they dreamed; for 'twas offence With them, to question certitude of sense, Their guide in faith: but nearer when they drew,} And had the faultless object full in view, } Lord, how they all admired her heavenly hue! } Some, who, before, her fellowship disdained, } Scarce, and but scarce, from in-born rage restrained,} Now frisked about her, and old kindred feigned. } Whether for love or interest, every sect Of all the savage nation shewed respect. The viceroy Panther could not awe the herd; The more the company, the less they feared. The surly Wolf with secret envy burst, } Yet could not howl; (the Hind had seen him first;)[132]} But what he durst not speak, the Panther durst. } For when the herd, sufficed, did late repair To ferny heaths, and to their forest lair, She made a mannerly excuse to stay, Proffering the Hind to wait her half the way; That, since the sky was clear, an hour of talk Might help her to beguile the tedious walk. With much good-will the motion was embraced, To chat a while on their adventures passed; Nor had the grateful Hind so soon forgot Her friend and fellow-sufferer in the plot.[133] Yet wondering how of late she grew estranged, Her forehead cloudy, and her countenance changed, She thought this hour the occasion would present, To learn her secret cause of discontent; Which well she hoped, might be with ease redressed,} Considering her a well-bred civil beast, } And more a gentlewoman than the rest. } After some common talk what rumours ran, The lady of the spotted muff began.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 95: The Roman Catholic church.]

[Footnote 96: Note I.]

[Footnote 97: The Roman Catholic priests executed in England, at different times since the Reformation, and regarded as martyrs and saints by those of their communion.]

[Footnote 98: The Independents. See Note II.]

[Footnote 99: The Quakers. See Note III.]

[Footnote 100: Free-thinkers. See Note IV.]

[Footnote 101: Anabaptists. See Note V.]

[Footnote 102: Unitarians. See Note VI.]

[Footnote 103: See Introductory remarks.]

[Footnote 104: Note VII.]

[Footnote 105: _Quasi_ By-land-er, an old word for a boat, used in coast navigation.]

[Footnote 106: Note VIII.]

[Footnote 107: Alluding to the classical ordination, which the Presbyterian church has adopted, instead of that by Bishops.]

[Footnote 108: Geneva, the cradle of Calvinism. The territories of the little republic, _dum Troja fuit_, were bounded by its ramparts and lake.]

[Footnote 109: Alluding to the recall of the Edict of Nantz, and persecution of the Huguenots. See Note IX.]

[Footnote 110: Which is usually distinguished by an act of grace, or general pardon.]

[Footnote 111: Nimrod.]

[Footnote 112: Jesus Christ.]

[Footnote 113: King James II.]

[Footnote 114: Note X.]

[Footnote 115: Our author recollected his own Philidel in "King Arthur:"

An airy shape, the tenderest of my kind, The last seduced and least deformed of hell; Half-white, and shuffled in the crowd I fell, Desirous to repent and loath to sin, Awkward in mischief, piteous of mankind; My name is Philidel, my lot in air, Where, next beneath the moon, and nearest heaven, I soar, I have a glimpse to be received.

Vol. VIII. p. 135. ]

[Footnote 116: Henry the Eighth's passion for Anna Bullen led the way to the Reformation.]

[Footnote 117: The marriage of the clergy, licensed by the Reformation.]

[Footnote 118: Worn out, or become hagard.]

[Footnote 119: A Popish advocate, in the controversy with Tennison, tells us exultingly, "That Martin Luther himself, Dr T's excellent instrument, after he had eat a feasting supper, and drank _lutheranice_, as the German proverb has it, was called into another world at two o'clock in the night, February 18, 1546." This was one of the reasons why his adversaries alleged, that Martin Luther set sail for hell in the manner described by Sterne, in his tale from Slawkenbergius.]

[Footnote 120: The king being owned the head of the church of England, contrary to the doctrine of the other reformed churches.]

[Footnote 121: Phylacteries are little scrolls of parchment worn by the Jews on their foreheads and wrists, inscribed with sentences from the law. They are supposed, as is expressed by the phrase in the original, to have the virtue of preserving the wearer from danger and evil.]

[Footnote 122: The Lutherans adopt the doctrine of consubstantiation; that is to say, they believe, that, though the elements are not changed into the body and blood of Christ by consecration, which is the Roman faith, yet the participants, at the moment of communicating, do actually receive the real body and blood. The Calvinists utterly deny the real presence in the eucharist, and affirm, that the words of Christ were only symbolical. The church of England announces a doctrine somewhat between these. See Note XI.]

[Footnote 123: Note XI.]

[Footnote 124: Note XII.]

[Footnote 125: Alluding to the fate of the church and monarchy of England, which fell together in the great rebellion. See Note XI.]

[Footnote 126: _Resolved_, i.e. dissolved.]

[Footnote 127: The Wolf, or Presbytery.--See note XIII.]

[Footnote 128: Note XIV.]

[Footnote 129: That is, if the church of England would be reconciled to Rome, she should be gratified with a delegated portion of innate authority over the rival sectaries; instead of being obliged to depend upon the civil power for protection.]

[Footnote 130: Alluding to the exercise of the dispensing power, and the Declaration of Indulgence.]

[Footnote 131: The ten-horned monster, in the Revelations, was usually explained by the reformers as typical of the church of Rome.]

[Footnote 132: There was a classical superstition, that, if a wolf saw a man before he saw the wolf, the person lost his voice:

----_voxque Mærin Jam fugit ipsa: lupi Mærin videre priores._

Dryden has adopted, in the text, the converse of this superstitious belief.]

[Footnote 133: Although the Roman Catholic plot was made the pretence of persecuting the Papists in the first instance, yet the high-flying party of the Church of England were also levelled at, and accused of being Tantivies, Papists in masquerade, &c. &c.]

NOTES

ON

THE HIND AND THE PANTHER.