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.