AN Anatomy of Atheism: A POEM. By a Person of Quality. Jmprimatur, Geo. Royse. August 24. 1693. LONDON, Printed for Thomas Speed, at the Three Crowns, near the Royal Exchange in Cornhill; M DC XCIV. To the Honourable Sir GEORGE DARCY, Bar. Dear Sir, THE great desire I have to see you happy both here and hereafter engageth me to do all that is in my power for the promotion both of your Spiritual and Temporal Interest. It has pleased God to give you a fair Portion of Worldly Goods, and a very large share of Intellectual Endowments, whereby you are put into a Capacity of providing for yourself both in this World and that which is to come. Your only care therefore must be to employ these good Gifts of God to his Glory, and the Salvation of your own Immortal Soul. 'Tis Religion only, Dear Sir, which can carry you safe through this Valley of Tears, and can at last advance you into that place where all Tears shall be wiped from your Eyes. 'Tis this alone which will make you the love of Men and Angels, nay, and what is infinitely more valuable, of God himself. In fine, it is this alone which can make this present Lise easy and pleasant, and secure you from Eternal Misery in a Life after this. Let Religion therefore, Dear Sir, be your first and early care, that so you may be wise betimes, and avoid those Follies which too commonly attend the young Gentlemen of this Age. You are just now entering upon that vast Stage the World, you have Good and Evil set before you, and the Eyes of all Men are upon you to see what manner of Choice you will make. Your present and future Happiness is at stake, and therefore it highly concerns you to make such a Choice as you may never hereafter have cause to repent of. You have had the advantage of a Sober and Religious Education from your very Gradle, and the Examples of as good Parents as ever any Child was blest with. Your Deceased Father, whose Memory will live as long as Piety and Virtue are Sacred here on Earth, was an admirable Pattern of unblemished Goodness: And your Excellent Mother is still, God be thanked, a Living Pattern of all that is Virtuous and Praiseworthy. What then will you be able to say for yourself if you degenerate from such Worthy Progenitors? What Excuses will you be able to make even to this World if you deceive their expectations by becoming the Unworthy Son of Two such Incomparable Parents? But alas! There is still a Question which is infinitely more weighty, and that is, What will you be able to plead for yourself at the great Day of Judgement, if you have behaved yourself so wickedly here, that even your Father and Mother must rise up and condemn you? But I am persuaded better things of you, and cannot give myself leave to think you will ever be a Disgrace to your Worthy Family. You have hitherto given us great hopes of seeing your Father again alive in you. I beseech God of his Infinite Mercy to preserve you in all Virtue and Goodness, and to make you a Great and Glorious Instrument of doing good here on Earth. Having told you that Religion is the greatest wisdom, or, as the wise man speaks, the beginning of wisdom, I must now tell you that the beginning of all Religion is the acknowledgement of God, the owning of a Supreme Power who made us and every thing that has been made from the beginning of the World out of nothing. This great and fundamental Truth must be necessarily well established in us before we can come to any such thing as Religion. For as the Apostle tells us, He that cometh to God must believe that he is. You cannot therefore better employ your time than in reading such Treatises as serve to make out this weighty Truth. Such are the present Arch-Bishops Sermon concerning Atheism, Dr. Barrows Sermons on the first Article of the Creed, and Grotius de Veritate Christianae Religionis; any one of which Three will sufficiently satisfy any unprejudiced Man who has not made his reason a Slave to his passions. After having named these great Men, I know not how to advise you to read the following Poem of my own. I can only recommend it to your Reading when you are more inclined to read Verse than Prose. And I beg of you, if you find any thing in it that you think well said, not to attribute it to me but to those great Men whom I named but now, whose Works I have only transcribed to their Authors great disadvantage. If this small piece shall contribute any thing towards the confirming you in the belief of a Godhead, I shall think my time well spent in Writing it. If not, I shall however have this to comfort me, that I written it with a sincere design to do you good, and to perform the Office that I own to you of A most Faithful Friend and Obliged Humble Servant THE PREFACE. WHEN I wrote this Poem I designed to have put all the Articles of our Christian Faith into Verse, that so I might entice those Men to look upon a Book of Poetry, who have not fixedness and solidity enough to consider the many Excellent Treatises on this Subject in Prose. And therefore I did intend to make use of common and obvious Arguments, thereby to make each Article as clear and plain as possibly I could. But considering with myself that this would be a work of time, and would require great Learning and Industry I began to despair of ever compassing it, and therefore resolved to let this Poem come out into the World by its self, and try its fortune. I think I need not make any Apology for printing a Discourse on this Subject. For if ever any thing of this Nature was necessary, it is certainly so now, When Men are arrived to that pitch of Impudence and Profaneness, that they think it a piece of Wit to deny the Being of a God, and to laugh at that which they cannot argue against: Or at least, when Men live at such a Licentious rate, that we may easily see they are like the Psalmists Fool, and say in their hearts, There is no God. I am therefore well satisfied that I made choice of a very good Subject, I only wish the Poem may be found worthy of it, and strong enough to defend so Important a Truth. Many Reasons I have for the publishing of it, which I think it may not be improper here to mention. The first is this, that there are many Copies of it gone abroad which are in danger of being sent to the Press uncorrected. The second is, because I know nothing of this Nature extant in our English Tongue, I mean no particular Poem purposely wrote on this Subject. My last and main Reason is, because some judicious Men have thought it not altogether unfit to do some good in the World. If it be well accepted of, and has its designed effect I may perhaps be encouraged to publish something else of the same Nature. In the mean while, till I see what Fortune it has. Adieu. AN Anatomy of Atheism. SInce some with barefaced Impudence deny The Self-Existence of a Deity Who is and was from all Eternity; Three sorts of Atheists Others more civilly a God dispute Till by disputing they themselves confute; A Third sort own they do a God believe, But at such random Rates and Methods live, That by their Practice they a God defy And by their Actions give their Tongues the lie. Since these, I say, so numerous are grown And fill the Court, the Country, and the Town, My pious Muse inspired with Holy Rage These dreadful Monsters singly shall engage, And, as of old the little Son of Jesse A mighty Giant did in fight suppress, Strengthened by God whose Armour then he wore, And whose just cause upon his Sword he bore, So, by the help of that Divinity Whom I assert, they foolishly deny, Their Errors I so fully shall refute That I shall leave them answerless and mute. The fust sort confused. The frame of the world, proof of a God. And, first, for him that rashly does disown The being of the blessed Eternal one, Let him but tell me whence the World began, Who made that Lovely, Lordly Creature Man, Let him around him gently cast his Eyes, And guess who made the Earth, the Seas, and Skies. The world not made by chance. If he be one of that misguided Tribe Which to blind chance does all these works ascribe, Let him the beauty of a Plant survey, The just vicissitudes of Night and Day, The constant motions of the Moon and Sun Which in just order do their Races run, Let him consider his own wondrous make And, for a time, himself to pieces take, Then see how every Fiber, Vein and Nerve Does to its proper ends and uses serve, How all we eat, and drink, and take for food Dissolves to Chyle and mingles with the blood. If all this Lesson still shall prove in vain, And he his first dull Maxim will maintain, That Atoms moving in a heedless dance Leapt into this Harmonious form by chance, Then let him say a beauteous Edifice From Bricks and Stones will of itself arise, That Letters in abagg together shaken Will make an Uniform, Ingenious Book, Or that bare Brass and Steel will jump into a Clock. The Works of Chance are of another kind, And like their cause irregular and blind, Without intention and without design, And far from being beautiful or fine. Since then the Workmanship we plainly see, We must infer there must a Workman be, Thus by the Art the Artist we descry, And by the Creature find the Deity. And since the World at first was made too fair, Too Curious, Excellent and Regular To be the Work of blind Contingency, To what new Covert must the Atheist fly? The World not eternal. The World's Eternity he next must take For his last Refuge and his surest Stake, And by denying that the World was made, Or that by Art it was in Order laid, He thinks to ward off the necessity Of introducing here a Deity, Whose boundless power and all-contriving thought This lovely Fabric to perfection brought. But here, instead of wiping off the Score, He's plunged in deeper than he was before; For, far from owning its Eternity, we'll show the World in its first infancy, And as through various turns and windings led We trace the River to the Fountainhead, So going backwards still from Man to Man, we'll find a time when we at first began. Vide Bishop Pearson on the Creed, page 58, 59 Most People own it not Six Thousand year Since first this beauteous Fabric did appear; Egyptian Priests held a much longer Date, And reckoned at a very different Rate, But they alas! were full of Forgeryes, And famed for nought but Impudence and Lies; Vide the same place. Chaldaeans too made their unjust account Beyond the number of our Cent'ries mount, But told such gross Improbabilities, That wisest Men them and their Cheats despise. Moses alone the Sacred Truth did tell, And the World's age with faithfulness reveal, Believed by all but such as want of Sense, Or obstinate and hardened Impudence Has blinded with so thick a mist of Night, That they shall never more behold the light. On his account, however I rely, As an Exact, Impartial History, Because Tradition does its Faith assure And with one common voice proclaims it pure. Here may each Man, as in a Mirror, see His first Extraction, and his Pedigree, And find his wished for Genealogy. Thus than we come to our Original, And to the God and Father of us all. But, since the Atheist does this Book disown, He must have other proof, or he has none. And though our reason makes it clear and plain This Book does nothing but the Truth contain, Wrote by a Man, whose just Integrity Forbids us to suspect he'd write a lie, Or tell those things, with Confidence, as true Which he perhaps might fancy, never knew, Yet against Moses he will still exclaim And call his Story a Fantastic Dream. If then there was a World, as some contend, Which never did begin, and ne'er will end, Let them the Records of this World unfold, In which its mighty actions are enroled, And show, before the time of our Creation, One Kingdom, Empire, Commonwealth or Nation, One Language, Science, Art or Mystery, Whose first Original we can't descry. But here the Atheist leaves us at a stand, And bids us seek for an unheard of Land, Without a Guide to tell the certain way, And keep false lights from leading us astray. Doubtless, faith he, there were in times of yor'e Of Histories and Records plenteous store, But these to Earthquakes, Floods, and Deluges More frequent Fires, and sad Contingencyes, Became a dire inevitable prey, And with their Author's they were snatched away. Was there then ever such a Fire or Flood, So swift and fierce as not to be withstood? So gen'ral, and so full of Cruelty As to leave none to write its History, If so, the World was to begin again, And that's the same as it had never been; If not, 'tis strange Tradition should not tell Those Wonders which our Ancestors befell. They who survived these sad Catastrophe's Told them, no doubt, to their Posterities, And thus the History at first begun Must through the Line of long Succession run. Supposing then what Story did relate In careful Writing, subject was to fate, Oral Tradition sure could hardly fail Unless it had been stopped by Miracle, Some glimm'rings sure we of this World should see Through the dark Vale of long Antiquity, Some tidings of that World we needs must have Which fell almost at once into its Grave, At least some Rite or Custom would remain To prove that Men have before Adam been, Since all these things are wanting, let's conclude That Adam is our Sire, and we his brood. And on his Person we with ease shall see The plain Impressions of a Deity. Vide l. 5. De rerum naturâ. Besides, as wise Lucretius well observes, The Atheist to his own Conviction serves, For all his Earthquakes, Floods, and Deluges Prove only that the World corruptive is, And since it is decayed, and wastes so fast, This plainly shows it has not long to last. Immortal things Immortal Beauty hold, Unchanged, and sure of never growing old, Whereas the World does almost every day Give us fresh Instances of its decay, Unhappy Naples more than half o'erthrown This dismal Truth unwillingly must own. And Aetna's flames show by their constant rage The World is come into her latest Age. Nothing from ruin can her Fabric save, But nodding now she bends towards her Eternal Grave Thus does the World most evidently prove The Being of that God who sits above. For since from various reason's we infer The World's Nativity as plain and clear, By reason cast the Atheists quit the Field, And that the World is not Eternal yield. If not Eternal, than it once was made, If made, it certainly a Maker had. Now all Men this must for an axiom take That nothing can itself produce or make, For that this contradiction would imply At the same time to be and not to be. Some outward cause we therefore must explore, Either of Chance, or an Eternal Power. The World's too well proportioned and designed To be the Work of Chance, ill-shaped, and blind. God for her Maker she alone will own And throws herself at his Almighty Throne. Miracles another proof of a God. Nor does the World and its harmonious frame The being of a God alone proclaim, But Moses by his wonder-working Rod Gives us another proof there is a God, And each effect surpassing Nature's Laws Bids us look out for a superior Cause; In vain Philosophers their Wisdom try, And stretch poor Nature to Extremity, To make her solve each wondrous Mystery; To Nature's Master they must often go If of Effects they would the Causes know. How strangely must the Atheist look to see The fire renounce its burning quality? And things which naturally increase its rage Clam its fierce scorchings and its heat assuage. See Dan. chap. 3. Yet thus it's Nature did the fire forego, For Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, In vain the Tyrant did their Ruin threat, And seven times o'er his stubborn Furnace heat, Safe in the midst o'the flames the Brethren stood, And cool as Summer Breezes from the Wood See Exod. chap. 7. What power of Nature can transform a flood Of Crystal Waters into Scarlet Blood? See Exod. ch. 14. Or make the Sea without its Motion stand And in a moment turn to Solid Land? Yet thus in Ancient Days did Moses show The power of God above by Miracles below. What strength of Art can quicken and restore A Man when dead to what he was before? Infuse new Life into his Frozen Veins And a new Soul to his forsaken Brains? Yet this did our all-powerful Master do, Who raised from Death himself and others too. Can Nature say, awake ye Dead, arise, Shake off your Sleep, lift up your drowsy Eyes? I will again once more your Corpse inspire, Kindle your Breath with my enlivening fire, And give your Soul back to it's Ancient Friend, Your Soul, which when I please I take or lend; No, she with Modesty withdraws her head, And Challeng'es no power to raise the dead; But owns she has a Lord whose awful sway She must not, cannot, dares not disobey, When he commands she leaves her wont way. He makes the Water, Earth, and Air, and Fire, When he sees fit, against themselves conspire. See Dan. ch. 6. Makes Lions, though by Nature fierce and wild, Fearful and gentle as a new-born-Child, He makes the tender Lambs securely sleep, Whilst hungry Tigers do the Sheepfolds keep. Let him but speak, and Nature stops her course, Abates her pace, and slackens all her force. See Joshua ch. 10. At his command the Sun and Moon stand still, And give his Servants light their Foes to kill. See 1 Kings ch. 18. A word from him makes the Clouds cease to rain, Another Word makes them distil again. As in our Saviour's Passion. Tho' Nature saith our Noons are always bright Yet let him speak, and there shall be no light, But Day itself shall be transformed to Night. Thus does each Miracle in Letters plain And at a mighty distance to be seen, Show the great name of Nature's Sacred Lord By us with Love and Reverence adored. To him the Atheist must his Tribute give From whom alone he borrows leave to live. His being sure he can no more deny Of which so many Wonders testify. The Miracles stand fixed in History, Stamped by Traditional Authority, To which no Man of sense will give the lie. The Credit of the World is much too strong To be beat down by any single Tongue. The facts he therefore cannot well disown, Unless he has resolved to Credit none But what he sees, to believe nothing told, Or think no Truth but what his Eyes behold. If not the Facts, we take our strength from thence And thus we argue for our Consequence. If Works are done which Natures power exceed We in some higher power these wondrous works must read Gifts of Prophecy another proof of a God. The Gifts of Prophecy as plainly show There must be one to whom those Gifts we owe. Man's knowledge is too shallow to foresee What shall to Morrow or the next day be, Much more to tell a Thousand years' events Which all depend on future accidents, And lay those things before us, bright and clear, And just as if they were already here, Which shall not come to pass, till the next Age Shifts Scenes, and brings a new one on the Stage. See Gen 15. 13. Yet thus of old did Abraham foretell That his poor Offspring should in Egypt dwell, And for the space of many a tedious year The toilsome Yoke of cruel Pharaoh bear. Exactly did the sad Event agree With what had been foretold in Prophecy. 1 Kings 13. 2. Thus was Josiah's Birth and Reign of old Some hundred years before they came foretold. Isaiah 44. 45. And thus Isaiah told, as he foresaw, That Cyrus to the Persians should give Law, That by his Mighty Arm the Jews should rise, And, tho' then Slaves, subdue their Enemies. And, that the matter might be free from doubt By Name he marked this Glorious Monarch out. Thus all the Prophets did praesig nifie The Blessed Jesus his Nativity, And laid each Circumstance so nicely down, That by the Character the God was known. If all these Prophecies are not fulfilled We are content with shame to quit the field, But if they are, as justly we believe, The Atheist must be damned beyond reprieve, For they who shut their Eyes, and will not see The power of an all-knowing Deity Who looks with ease into futurity, No Mercy must expect, or Pity pray When the Great God shall keep his Judgment-Day. Man they confess is of too short a sight To fee things future, sown in depth of Night. Some nobler power they then of course must grant Which does no measure of foreknowledge want. This power is God; whom rashaly they deny, They know not upon what account, or why. But some perhaps will call for Instances Out of Prophance and Common Histories; Tho' without reason they this favour ask, Yet I most willingly accept the Task. And here the Ancient Oracles afford A Thousand Prophecy's which word for word Exactly were accomplished and revealed So clearly that they must not be concealed. Some were indeed told in a doubtful way But other's clear as Sunshine at Midday, Such was that Prophecy which did declare Vide Herod l. 1. Vide Herod l. 7. That Cyrus should the Lydians beat in War, Such that which told it should the fortune be Of Xerxes' Navy to be beat at Sea When all things promised the quite contrary. Before the Bar then let the Atheist kneel, And take Conviction from his own appeal. No more Evasions can he hope to find, But he must see, or must confess he's blind. For, as when Light won't enter through the Eyes We straight conclude the Organ's are amiss, So, if our Atheist still will persevere, And neither Truth nor solid Reason hear, We must conclude his Soul so full of sin That she can't let her proper object in. Once more I'll try if like a senseless Rock Fixed, and unmoved he'll stand another shock, Universal consent our last proof of a God. I'll ply him but with one more Argument, From Universal Judgement and Consent, And if this fails to work upon his Soul It is because his faculties are foul. Let us survey the Universe around, And search each Nook where Men are to be found. No Nation shall we meet in all our Tour That does not some Divinity adore. Of this Divinity, which all believe, Too few there are that do aright conceive. Yet with one voice they all agree in this God is, altho' they know not what he is. Some attribute a Godhead to the Sun, Others with equal Honours crown the Moon, Some to a Monkey with Devotion bow, Others Religiously adore a Cow, And by their misplaced Zeal show they agree I'th' gen'ral Notion of a Deity. Great part o'th' World believes more Gods than one But no part ever yet professed that there were none. See then our Atheists all the World oppose, And, like Drawcansir, make all Men his Foes, See with what Sawey Pride he does pretend His wiser Father's Notions to amend, Huffs Plutarch, Plato, Pliny, Seneca, And bids even Cicero himself give way, Tells all the World they follow a false light And he alone of all Mankind is right. Thus, like a Madman who when all alone Thinks himself King, and every Chair a Throne, Drunk with Conceit and foolish Impudence He prides himself in his abounding Sense. But soon this Pride would to the Ground be brought If he'd allow himself a moment's thought. For let him but consider well within From whence this gen'ral Notion did begin, Who was its Author, from what hint it came And our conceited Bully will grow tame. This Notion than was either first embraced Because by Nature on our hearts impressed, Or else because a Natural Tendency Persuades us to believe a Deity, So that whenever any Man we hear The Being of an alwise God aver, This Truth with as much eagerness we own, As soon as first discovered and made known, As do the Eyes, whose Organs are aright, Suck in the beams of the clear shining light. Or, Thirdly, we from Reason's Sacred Law This inference most evidently draw, And, with St. Paul, from things Created prove The Being of that God who sits above. Or, lastly, this was from Tradition brought And by our Fathers to their Children taught. If, in our search, we shall by Nature find This principle engrafted on the mind, It's truth of Consequence we must allow, For Nature's Principles are always true, Her steady light can never go astray But leads us to one right and constant way. Or if the Soul is by its Nature bend, At the first sight, to give its free assent To this assertion, that a God must be And has been always from Eternity, The selfsame evidence will still remain To make the matter beyond Question plain. Man's Soul is framed by Natural Appetite, In Truth and Reason's Dictates to delight. If then our Souls unpraejudiced and free Do of themselves to this great Truth agree, With reason argue and confess we must Their Judgements equal, and their Verdicts just. But if our Reason does this Truth evince, The Atheist never more must make pretence Even to the lowest pitch of common sense. Men's Company he must of course forsake And senseless Brutes for his dear Comrades take. If from Tradition we this Truth received, Which all our wisest Ancestors believed, Into the same Dispute again we fall About its rise and first Original. How came it first to him who did begin To broach it to the World, and let it in. Nothing but an all-powr'ful, ruling hand men's Hearts and Mouths can equally command. To Adam first God did himself unfold, He to his Children all his knowledge told Thus Faith by reason strengthened does obtain And through the World without resistance Reign. See then a Cloud of Witnesses appear! For the whole World bears Testimony here. See how all Nations in full Consort crowd And with one voice cry out A God aloud. Before these let the Atheist show his head, And hear his dismal Accusation read, His fatal Crime is of the deepest dye 'Tis Treason 'gainst the highest Majesty. His Lord and Maker he denies to own And rudely kicks against his Sovereign's Throne, Through all the bonds of right and nature breaks, Nay, his own reason and himself forsakes. Puffed up with Pride and Saucy Impudence He denies things most evident to Sense. And, as old Zeno motion did dispute And by his walking did himself confute, So he, although he every where descries Things made, a Maker foolishly denies. The Accusation read, the Tryal's done His guilt's as plain as is the Noonday Sun. There's not one Man in Court but 's heard to Cry The Treason's clear, oh let the Traitor die! To Sentence than we justly may proceed, And make the obstinate Rebellious bleed. In lakes of brimstone must our Atheist dwell Plunged to the bottom of the hottest Hell, Where no Day enters, where no Sun appears, And the sad place with its bright presence cheers, There he to all Eternity must lie In pangs of Death, but yet must never die, Doomed by that power, whom he too late will know To never-ceasing pains and Everlasting woe. The Second sort of Atheists confuted Nor will their guilt or punishment be less Who Sceptics in the case themselves profess, Who think the Case some scruples may admit And so suspend their Faith and Thoughts of it. We have no medium left for doubting fools, No Castles in the Air for faithless Souls. Wing'd with belief of a Divinity Our happy Souls shall to his Mansion fly But Disbelief, and Scepticism is so, Will Soul and Body into Ruin throw. Besides in doubtful cases we deride That Man who will not choose the surest side, Prudence commands us with a cautious care Against the worst can happen to prepare And names those Men alone discreet and wise Who choose their Road where certain safety lies. For once then, let the case for doubtful go Whether there be a Deity or no, Till after Death the point must needs remain Unsolved, and Death alone can make it plain. A wise Man therefore would believe it here That after Death he may no Danger fear. Our Faith is purchased at no mighty cost, And we shall sleep securely if 'tis lost. But if the sad event shall prove a God Then will the Disbeliever feel his rod. Why then will Men their wisdom thus betray And by their folly cast themselves away? In things of lesser moment and concern They can with ease the safest way discern, But when th' Immortal Soul is made the stake With what contentedness the Fools mistake? If we on Roads of War and Danger go, And are not sure but we may meet our Foe, Wisely we arm against the worst event, Lest made his Slaves we should too late repent, This differs from our case in Terms and Name, But in reality is just the same. Belief of God our Souls securely arms, And makes them proof against all future harms. But if unarmed we venture to appear, And find a God, 'twill cost us very dear. Darkness and Horror, Pain and Misery Will be our doom to all Eternity. Belief like Weapons we about us bear To guard ourselves from danger and from fear. Thus armed we hope to find a God at last, After a life in peace and quiet past, If we succeed, as there's no doubt we shall, We save our Ruin and Eternal fall, If not the worst event that we can have Is to lie senseless in the silent Grave. The Third sort of Atheists confuted For the third sort, who by their lives dethrone That God, whom they for fashion's sake will own, These do more mischief in the World than those Who do with open force a God oppose. 'Tis much the better, and the wiser way To disallow a God, than disobey, Better to own no Lord, than this our Lord betray. Some Men with fatal prejudices blind Seek for a Deity they cannot find; And this is some, though but a bad excuse, And no way fit for Men of sense to use. But they, who in their sinful courses live And yet protest they do a God believe, Speak contradictions, and must either think That God will at their sin and lewdness wink, (Which plainly shows their thoughts are much amiss And that they had as good not own God is) Or else they only play the Hypocrite And only say they do believe aright, But in their hearts they saucily defy The Power and Justice of a Deity. Of all the three, then, our last spark is worst, And consequently will be most accursed, For him the flames of Hell, if it can be, Shall still be raised to a more quick degree, As a reward for his Hypocrisy. Thus have the Atheists been distinctly tried, The first for rashness, Impudence and Pride, For his abuse of Nature's Sacred Laws, And holding off when Reason proved the Cause. The second for his want of Wit to choose The safest way, the dangerous refuse. The Third, for his profane Hypocrisy And boldly telling a Religious lie. The Trial done, I have no more to say, Their next Appeal is on the Judgment-Day, When to their shame God will his power exert, And in their ruin will himself assert. Glory be to God.