ON A HYPOCRITICAL NONCONFORMIST. 267

ON A HYPOCRITICAL NONCONFORMIST.

A PINDARIC ODE.

I.

THERE's nothing so absurd, or vain,

Or barbarous, or inhumane,

But if it lay the least pretence

To piety and godliness,

Or tender-hearted conscience,
And zeal for gospel-truths profess,

Does sacred instantly commence,

And all that dare but question it are strait
Pronounc'd th' uncircumcis'd and reprobate :
As malefactors that escape and fly

Into a sanctuary for defence,

Must not be brought to justice thence,

Although their crimes be ne'er so great and high;

And he that dares presume to do 't

Is sentenc'd and deliver'd up

To Satan that engag'd him to 't,
For vent'ring wickedly to put a stop
To his immunities and free affairs,

Or meddle saucily with theirs,

That are employ'd by him, while he and they
Proceed in a religious and a holy way.

II.

And as the Pagans heretofore

Did their own handyworks adore,

And made their stone and timber deities,
Their temples, and their altars, of one piece;
The same outgoings seem t' inspire

Our modern self-will'd Edifier,

That out of things as far from sense, and more,
Contrives new light and revelation,
The creatures of th' imagination,
To worship and fall down before;
Of which his crack'd delusions draw
As monstrous images and rude
As ever Pagan, to believe in, hew'd,
Or madmen in a vision saw;
Mistakes the feeble impotence,
And vain delusions of his mind,
For spiritual gifts and offerings
Which Heaven, to present him, brings;

And still, the further 'tis from sense,

Believes it is the more refin'd,

And ought to be receiv'd with greater reverence.

III.

But as all tricks, whose principles

Are false, prove false in all things else,
The dull and heavy hypocrite

Is but in pension with his conscience,
That pays him for maintaining it
With zealous rage and impudence,
And as the one grows obstinate,
So does the other rich and fat;
Disposes of his gifts and dispensations
Like spiritual foundations,

Endow'd to pious uses, and design'd

To entertain the weak, the lame, and blind;
But still diverts them to as bad, or worse,
Than others are by unjust governors:
For, like our modern publicans,

He still puts out all dues

He owes to Heaven to the dev❜l to use,

And makes his godly interest great gains
Takes all the Brethren (to recruit
The spirit in him) contribute,

And, to repair and edify his spent

And broken-winded outward man, present
For painful holding-forth against the government.

IV.

The subtle spider never spins,

But on dark days, his slimy gins;

Nor does our engineer much care to plant

His spiritual machines

Unless among the weak and ignorant,
Th' inconstant, credulous, and light,
The vain, the factious, and the slight,
That in their zeal are most extravagant;
For trouts are tickled best in muddy water;
And still, the muddier he finds their brains,
The more he 's sought and follow'd after,
And greater ministrations gains;
For talking idly is admir'd,

And speaking nonsense held inspir'd ;
And still the flatter and more dull

His gifts appear, is held more powerful;

For blocks are better cleft with wedges
Than tools of sharp and subtle edges;
And dullest nonsense has been found

By some to be the solid'st and the most profound.

V.

A great Apostle once was said

With too much learning to be mad;

But our great Saint becomes distract,

And only with too little crackt;

Cries moral truths and human learning down,

And will endure no reason but his own:

For 'tis a drudgery and task

Not for a Saint, but Pagan oracle,

To answer all men can object or ask;
But to be found impregnable,

And with a sturdy forehead to hold out,
In spite of shame or reason resolute,
Is braver than to argue and confute :
As he that can draw blood, they say,
From witches, takes their magic pow'r away,
So he that draws blood int' a Brother's face,
Takes all his gifts away, and light, and grace:
For while he holds that nothing is so damn'd
And shameful as to be asham'd,

He never can b' attack'd,

But will come off; for Confidence, well back'd
Among the weak and prepossess'd,

Has often Truth, with all her kingly pow'r, ofpress'd.

VI.

It is the nature of late zeal,

"Twill not be subject, nor rebel,

Nor left at large, nor be restrain'd,

But where there's something to be gain'd;

And that b'ing once reveal'd, defies
The law, with all its penalties,
And is convinc'd no pale

O' th' church can be so sacred as a jail:
For as the Indians' prisons are their mines,
So he has found are all restraints

To thriving and free-conscienc'd Saints;
For the same thing enriches that confines;
And like to Lully, when he was in hold,
He turns his baser metals into gold,
Receives returning and retiring fees
For holding-forth, and holding of his peace,
And takes a pension to be advocate

And standing counsel 'gainst the church and state

For gall'd and tender consciences:

Commits himself to prison to trepan,

Draw in, and spirit all he can;

For birds in cages have a call,

To draw the wildest into nets,

More prevalent and natural

Than all our artificial pipes and counterfeits.

VII.

His slipp'ry conscience has more tricks

Than all the juggling empirics,

All ev'ry one another contradicts;