The Poetical Works of John Dryden Volume I Part 27

Et vera incessa patuit Dea.

VIRG.

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 advertis.e.m.e.nt let him take beforehand, 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 On the other side, there are many of our sects, and more indeed than I could reasonably have hoped, who have withdrawn themselves from the communion of the Panther, and embraced this gracious indulgence of his Majesty in point of toleration.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.

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.

It is not for any private man to censure the proceedings of a foreign prince; 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 G.o.d to his empire over conscience." 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 pa.s.ses only betwixt G.o.d 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 cla.s.sical 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 would lead them.

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, but from a Christian king, their native sovereign; who expects a return in specie from them, that the kindness, which he has graciously shown 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 d.u.c.h.ess (in which last I was concerned), how charitably I have been represented there. I am now informed both of the author and supervisors of this pamphlet, and will reply, when I think he can affront me; for I am of Socrates's opinion, that all creatures cannot. In the mean time let him consider whether he deserved not a more 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 Duncomb 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.

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 princ.i.p.al 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. 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, 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 commonplaces 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.

PART I.

A milk-white Hind, immortal and unchanged, Fed on the lawns, and in the forest ranged; Without unspotted, innocent within, She fear'd no danger, for she knew no sin.

Yet had she oft been chased with horns and hounds, And Scythian shafts; and many winged wounds Aim'd at her heart; was often forced to fly, And doom'd to death, though fated not to die.

Not so her young; for their unequal line Was hero's make, half human, half divine. 10 Their earthly mould obnoxious was to fate, The immortal part a.s.sumed immortal state.

Of these a slaughter'd army lay in blood, 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 enjoy'd her pains. 20 With grief and gladness mix'd, the mother view'd Her martyr'd offspring, and their race renew'd; Their corpse to perish, but their kind to last, So much the deathless plant the dying fruit surpa.s.s'd.

Panting and pensive now she ranged alone, And wander'd in the kingdoms once her own, The common hunt, though from their rage restrain'd By sovereign power, her company disdain'd; Grinn'd as they pa.s.s'd, and with a glaring eye Gave gloomy signs of secret enmity. 30 'Tis true, she bounded by, and tripp'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 b.l.o.o.d.y Bear, an independent beast, Unlick'd to form, in groans her hate express'd.

Among the timorous kind the quaking Hare[94]

Profess'd neutrality, but would not swear.

Next her the buffoon Ape[95], as Atheists use, Mimick'd all sects, and had his own to choose: 40 Still when the Lion look'd, his knees he bent, And paid at church a courtier's compliment.

The bristled Baptist Boar, impure as he, But whiten'd with the foam of sanct.i.ty, With fat pollutions fill'd the sacred place, And mountains levell'd 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 betray'd, With broken tusks, and with a borrow'd name; 50 He shunn'd the vengeance, and conceal'd the shame: So lurk'd in sects unseen. With greater guile False Reynard[96] fed on consecrated spoil: The graceless beast by Athanasius first Was chased from Nice, then by Socinus nursed: His impious race their blasphemy renew'd, And nature's King through nature's optics view'd.

Reversed they view'd him lessen'd to their eye, Nor in an infant could a G.o.d descry: New swarming sects to this obliquely tend, 60 Hence they began, and here they all will end.

What weight of ancient witness can prevail, If private reason hold the public scale?

But, gracious G.o.d, 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 conceal'd, And search no farther than thyself reveal'd; But her alone for my director take, 70 Whom thou hast promised never to forsake!

My thoughtless youth was wing'd with vain desires; My manhood, long misled by wandering fires, Follow'd 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: What more could fright my faith, than Three in One?

Can I believe Eternal G.o.d could lie 80 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 show the sun his way; 90 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?

Impa.s.sable, 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 confess'd in open sight.

For since thus wondrously he pa.s.s'd, 'tis plain, 100 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, 110 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 G.o.dhead of the Eternal Son.

G.o.d thus a.s.serted, man is to believe Beyond what sense and reason can conceive, And for mysterious things of faith rely 120 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 play'd into another hand.

Why choose we, then, like bilanders,[97] to creep Along the coast, and land in view to keep, When safely we may launch into the deep? 130 In the same vessel which our Saviour bore, Himself the pilot, let us leave the sh.o.r.e, And with a better guide a better world explore.

Could he his G.o.dhead 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? 140 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 insurer of thy bliss; The bank above must fail before the venture miss.

But heaven and heaven-born faith are far from thee, 150 Thou first apostate[98] to divinity.

Unkennell'd range in thy Polonian plains; A fiercer foe the insatiate Wolf[99] remains.

Too boastful Britain, please thyself no more, That beasts of prey are banish'd from thy sh.o.r.e: 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 160 Appear with belly gaunt and famish'd face: Never was so deform'd a beast of grace.

His ragged tail betwixt his legs he wears, Close clapp'd for shame; but his rough crest he rears, And p.r.i.c.ks up his predestinating ears.

His wild disorder'd walk, his haggard eyes, Did all the b.e.s.t.i.a.l citizens surprise.

Though fear'd and hated, yet he ruled awhile, As captain or companion of the spoil.

Full many a year[100] his hateful head had been 170 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 Wickliff's brood no mark he brings, But his innate antipathy to kings.

These last deduce him from th' Helvetian kind, Who near the Leman lake his consort lined: That fiery Zuinglius first th' affection bred, 180 And meagre Calvin bless'd the nuptial bed.

In Israel some believe him whelp'd long since, When the proud Sanhedrim oppress'd 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 pa.s.s, And could not bear the burden of a cla.s.s.

The Fox and he came shuffled in the dark, 190 If ever they were stow'd in Noah's ark: Perhaps not made; for all their barking train The Dog (a common species) will contain.