by John Dryden
For sects that are extremes, abhor a middle way.
Like tricks of state, to stop a raging flood,
Or mollify a mad-brain’d Senate’s mood:
Of all expedients never one was good.
Well may they argue, (nor can you deny,) 275
If we must fix on church auctority,
Best on the best, the fountain, not the flood,
That must be better still, if this be good.
Shall she command who has herself rebell’d?
Is Antichrist by Antichrist expell’d? 280
Did we a lawfull tyranny displace,
To set aloft a bastard of the race?
Why all these wars to win the Book, if we
Must not interpret for our selves, but she?
Either be wholly slaves or wholly free. 285
For purging fires traditions must not fight;
But they must prove Episcopacy’s right:
Thus those led horses are from service freed;
You never mount ‘em but in time of need.
Like mercenary’s, hir’d for home defence, 290
They will not serve against their native Prince.
Against domestick foes of Hierarchy
These are drawn forth, to make fanaticks fly;
But, when they see their country-men at hand.
Marching against ‘em under church-command, 295
Streight they forsake their colours and disband.
Thus she, nor cou’d the Panther well enlarge;
With weak defence against so strong a charge;
But said, for what did Christ his Word provide,
If still his church must want a living guide? 300
And if all saving doctrines are not there,
Or sacred Pen-men could not make ‘em clear,
From after-ages we should hope in vain
For truths, which men inspir’d, cou’d not explain.
Before the Word was written, said the Hind, 305
Our Saviour preached his Faith to humane kind;
From his Apostles the first age receiv’d
Eternal truth, and what they taught, believ’d.
Thus by tradition faith was planted first;
Succeeding flocks succeeding Pastours nurs’d. 310
This was the way our wise Redeemer chose,
(Who sure could all things for the best dispose,)
To fence his fold from their encroaching foes.
He cou’d have writ himself, but well foresaw
Th’ event would be like that of Moyses law; 315
Some difference wou’d arise, some doubts remain,
Like those which yet the jarring Jews maintain.
No written laws can be so plain, so pure,
But wit may gloss and malice may obscure;
Not those indited by his first command, 320
A Prophet grav’d the text, an Angel held his hand.
Thus faith was e’er the written word appear’d,
And men believ’d, not what they read, but heard,
But since the Apostles cou’d not be confin’d
To these, or those, but severally design’d 325
Their large commission round the world to blow,
To spread their faith they spread their labours too.
Yet still their absent flock their pains did share;
They hearken’d still, for love produces care.
And as mistakes arose, or discords fell, 330
Or bold seducers taught ‘em to rebel,
As charity grew cold or faction hot,
Or long neglect their lessons had forgot,
For all their wants they wisely did provide,
And preaching by Epistles was supply’d: 335
So, great Physicians cannot all attend,
But some they visit and to some they send.
Yet all those letters were not writ to all,
Nor first intended, but occasional
Their absent sermons; nor if they contain 340
All needfull doctrines, are those doctrines plain.
Clearness by frequent preaching must be wrought;
They writ but seldom, but they daily taught.
And what one Saint has said of holy Paul,
He darkly writ, is true apply’d to all. 345
For this obscurity cou’d heav’n provide
More prudently than by a living guide,
As doubts arose, the difference to decide?
A guide was therefore needfull, therefore made;
And, if appointed, sure to be obey’d. 350
Thus, with due reverence to th’ Apostles writ,
By which my sons are taught, to which, submit,
I think, those truths their sacred works contain
The church alone can certainly explain;
That following ages, leaning on the past, 355
May rest upon the Primitive at last.
Nor would I thence the word no rule infer,
But none without the church interpreter;
Because, as I have urg’d before, ’tis mute,
And is it self the subject of dispute. 360
But what th’ Apostles their successors taught,
They to the next, from them to us is brought,
Th’ undoubted sense which is in Scripture sought.
From hence the Church is arm’d, when errours rise,
To stop their entrance, and prevent surprise; 365
And safe entrench’d within, her foes without defies.
By these all festring sores her counsels heal,
Which time or has discloas’d or shall reveal,
For discord cannot end without a last appeal.
Nor can a council national decide, 370
But with subordination to her Guide,
(I wish the cause were on that issue try’d.)
Much less the scripture; for suppose debate
Betwixt pretenders to a fair estate,
Bequeath’d by some Legator’s last intent; 375
(Such is our dying Saviour’s Testament:)
The will is prov’d, is open’d, and is read;
The doubtfull heirs their diff’ring titles plead:
All vouch the words their int’rest to maintain,
And each pretends by those his cause is plain. 380
Shall then the testament award the right?
No, that’s the Hungary for which they fight;
The field of battel, subject of debate;
The thing contended for, the fair estate.
The sense is intricate, ’tis onely clear 385
What vowels and what consonants are there.
Therefore ’tis plain, its meaning must be try’d
Before some judge appointed to decide.
Suppose, (the fair Apostate said,) I grant,
The faithfull flock some living guide should want, 390
Your arguments an endless chase persue:
Produce this vaunted Leader to our view,
This mighty Moyses of the chosen crew.
The Dame, who saw her fainting foe retir’d,
With force renew’d, to victory aspired; 395
(And looking upward to her kindred sky,
As once our Saviour own’d his Deity,
Pronounc’d his words — she whom ye seek am I.)
Nor less amazed this voice the Panther heard
Than were those Jews to hear a god declar’d. 400
Then thus the matron modestly renew’d;
Let all your prophets and their sects be view’d,
And see to which of ‘em your selves think fit
The conduct of your conscience to submit:
Each Proselyte would vote his Doctor best, 405
With absolute exclusion to the rest:
Thus wou’d your Polish Diet disagree,
And end, as it began, in Anarchy;
Your self the fairest for election stand,
Because you seem crown-gen’ral of the land; 410
But soon against your superstitious lawn
Some Presbyterian Sabre wou’d be drawn:
In your establish’d laws of sov’raignty
The rest some fundamental flaw wou’d see,
And call Rebellion gospel-liberty. 415
To church-decrees your articles require
Submission modify’d, if not entire;
Homage deny’d, to censures you proceed;
But when Curtana will not doe the deed,
You lay that pointless clergy-weapon by, 420
And to the laws, your sword of justice fly.
Now this your sects the more unkindly take,
(Those prying varlets hit the blots you make)
Because some ancient friends of yours declare,
Your onely rule of faith the Scriptures are, 425
Interpreted, by men of judgment sound,
Which ev’ry sect will for themselves expound:
Nor think less rev’rence to their doctours due
For sound interpretation, than to you.
If then, by able heads, are understood 430
Your brother prophets, who reform’d abroad;
Those able heads expound a wiser way,
That their own sheep their shepherd shou’d obey.
But if you mean your selves are onely sound,
That doctrine turns the reformation round, 435
And all the rest are false reformers found.
Because in sundry Points you stand alone,
Not in Communion join’d with any one;
And therefore must be all the Church, or none.
Then, till you have agreed whose judge is best, 440
Against this forc’d submission they protest:
While sound and sound a different sense explains,
Both play at hard-head till they break their brains:
And from their Chairs each other’s force defy,
While unregarded thunders vainly fly. 445
I pass the rest, because your Church alone
Of all Usurpers best cou’d fill the Throne.
But neither you, nor any sect beside
For this high office can be qualify’d
With necessary Gifts requir’d in such a Guide. 450
For that which must direct the whole must be
Bound in one Bond of Faith and Unity:
But all your sev’ral Churches disagree.
The Consubstantiating Church and Priest
Refuse Communion to the Calvinist; 455
The French reform’d, from Preaching you restrain,
Because you judge their Ordination vain;
And so they judge of yours, but Donors must ordain.
In short, in Doctrine, or in Discipline
Not one reform’d, can with another join: 460
But all from each, as from Damnation fly;
No Union they pretend, but in Non-Popery.
Nor, should their Members in a Synod meet,
Cou’d any Church presume to mount the Seat
Above the rest, their discords to decide; 465
None wou’d obey, but each would be the Guide:
And face to face dissensions would encrease;
For only distance now preserves the Peace.
All in their Turns accusers and accus’d,
Babel was never half so much confus’d. 470
What one can plead, the rest can plead as well;
For amongst equals lies no last appeal,
And all confess themselves are fallible.
Now, since you grant some necessary Guide,
All who can err are justly laid aside: 475
Because a trust so sacred to confer
Shows want of such a sure Interpreter,
And how can he be needful who can err?
Then granting that unerring guide we want,
That such there is you stand obliged to grant: 480
Our Saviour else were wanting to supply
Our needs and obviate that Necessity.
It then remains that Church can only be
The guide which owns unfailing certainty;
Or else you slip your hold, and change your side, 485
Relapsing from a necessary Guide.
But this annex’d Condition of the Crown,
Immunity from Errours, you disown,
Here then you shrink, and lay your weak pretensions down.
For petty Royalties you raise debate; 490
But this unfailing Universal State
You shun: nor dare succeed to such a glorious weight.
And for that cause those Promises detest
With which our Saviour did his Church invest:
But strive t’ evade, and fear to find ‘em true, 495
As conscious they were never meant to you:
All which the mother church asserts her own,
And with unrivall’d claim ascends the throne.
So when of old th’ Almighty Father sate
In Council, to redeem our ruin’d state, 500
Millions of millions, at a distance round,
Silent the sacred Consistory crown’d,
To hear what mercy mixt with Justice cou’d propound.
All prompt with eager pity, to fulfil
The full extent of their Creatour’s will: 505
But when the stern conditions were declar’d,
A mournful whisper through the host was heard,
And the whole hierarchy, with heads hung down,
Submissively declin’d the pondrous proffer’d crown.
Then, not till then, th’ eternal Son from high 510
Rose in the strength of all the Deity;
Stood forth t’ accept the terms, and underwent
A weight which all the frame of heav’n had bent,
Nor he Himself cou’d bear, but as omnipotent.
Now, to remove the least remaining doubt, 515
That even the blear-ey’d sects may find her out,
Behold what heavenly rays adorn her brows,
What from his Wardrobe her belov’d allows
To deck the wedding-day of his unspotted spouse.
Behold what marks of Majesty she brings; 520
Richer than antient heirs of Eastern kings:
Her right hand holds the sceptre and the keys,
To show whom she commands, and who obeys:
With these to bind or set the sinner free,
With that t’ assert spiritual Royalty. 525
One in herself, not rent by Schism, but sound,
Entire, one solid shining Diamond,
Not Sparkles shattered into Sects like you,
One is the Church, and must be to be true:
One central principle of unity. 530
As undivided, so from errours free,
As one in faith, so one in sanctity.
Thus she, and none but she, th’ insulting Rage
Of Hereticks oppos’d from Age to Age:
Still when the Giant-brood invades her Throne, 535
She stoops from Heav’n and meets ‘em half way down,
And with paternal Thunder vindicates her Crown.
But like Egyptian Sorcerers you stand,
And vainly lift aloft your Magick Wand
To sweep away the Swarms of Vermin from the Land. 540
You cou’d like them, with like infernal Force
Produce the Plague, but not arrest the Course.
But when the Boils and Botches, with disgrace
And publick Scandal sat upon the Face,
Themselves attack’d, the Magi strove no more, 545
They saw God’s Finger, and their Fate deplore;
Themselves they cou’d not Cure of the dishonest sore.
Thus one, thus pure, behold her largely spread
Like the fair Ocean from her Mother-Bed;
From East to West triumphantly she rides, 550
All Shoars are water’d by her wealthy Tides.
The Gospel-sou
nd, diffus’d from Pole to Pole,
Where winds can carry and where waves can roll.
The self same doctrin of the Sacred Page
Convey’d to ev’ry clime, in ev’ry age. 555
Here let my sorrow give my satyr place,
To raise new blushes on my British race;
Our sayling Ships like common shoars we use,
And through our distant Colonies diffuse
The draughts of Dungeons and the stench of stews, 560
Whom, when their home-bred honesty is lost,
We disembogue on some far Indian coast;
Thieves Pandars, Palliards, sins of ev’ry sort;
Those are the manufactures we export;
And these the Missioners our zeal has made: 565
For, with my Countrey’s pardon be it said,
Religion is the least of all our trade.
Yet some improve their traffick more than we,
For they on gain, their only God, rely:
And set a publick price on piety. 570
Industrious of the needle and the chart,
They run full sail to their Japponian Mart;
Prevention fear, and prodigal of fame
Sell all of Christian to the very name;
Nor leave enough of that to hide their naked shame. 575
Thus of three marks, which in the Creed we view,
Not one of all can be apply’d to you:
Much less the fourth; in vain alas you seek
Th’ ambitious title of Apostolick:
God-like descent! ’tis well your bloud can be 580
Prov’d noble in the third or fourth degree:
For all of ancient that you had before,
(I mean what is not borrow’d from our store)
Was Errour fulminated o’er and o’er.
Old Heresies condemned in ages past, 585
By care and time recover’d from the blast.
’Tis said with ease, but never can be prov’d,
The church her old foundations has remov’d,
And built new doctrines on unstable sands:
Judge that, ye winds and rains; you prov’d her, yet she stands. 590
Those ancient doctrines charg’d on her for new,
Shew when, and how, and from what hands they grew.
We claim no pow’r, when Heresies grow bold,
To coin new faith, but still declare the old.
How else cou’d that obscene disease be purg’d 595
When controverted texts are vainly urg’d?
To prove tradition new, there’s somewhat more
Requir’d, than saying, ’twas not us’d before.
Those monumental arms are never stirr’d,
Till Schism or Heresie call down Goliah’s sword. 600
Thus, what you call corruptions, are in truth,
The first plantations of the gospel’s youth,
Old standard faith: but cast your eyes again,