Although, the fubtler all things are,
They're but to nothing the more near;
And, the less weight they can sustain,
The more he still lays on in vain,
And hangs his foul upon as nice
And fubtle curiofities,
As one of that vast multitude
That on a needle's point have stood;
Weighs right and wrong, and true and false,
Upon as nice and subtle scales,
As thofe that turn upon a plane
With th' hundredth part of half a grain,
And ftill the fubtler they move,
The fooner false and useless prove.
So man, that thinks to force and strain,
Beyond its natural fphere, his brain,
In vain torments it on the rack,
And, for improving, fets it back;
Is ignorant of his own extent,
And that to which his aims are bent;
Is loft in both, and breaks his blade
Upon the anvil where 'twas made:
For, as abortions cost more pain
Than vigorous births, fo all the vain
And weak productions of man's wit,
That aim at purposes unfit,
Require more drudgery, and worse,
Than those of ftrong and lively force.
LICENTIOUS AGE OF CHARLES II.
IS a ftrange age we've liv'd in, and a lewd,
As e'er the fun in all his travels view'd;
An age as vile as ever Justice urg'd,
Like a fantastic letcher, to be fcourg'd;
Nor has it fcap'd, and yet has only learn'd,
The more 'tis plagued, to be the lefs concern'd.
Twice have we seen two dreadful judgments rage,
Enough to fright the stubborn'st-hearted age;
The one to mow vast crowds of people down,
The other (as then needlefs) half the Town;
And two as mighty miracles restore
What both had ruin'd and deftroy'd before;
In all as unconcern'd as if they 'ad been
But paftimes for diverfion to be feen,
As the preceding fatire was upon mankind in general, with fome allufion to that age in which it was wrote, this is particularly leveled at the licentious and debauched times of Charles II. humorously contrafted with the Puritanical ones which went before; and is a fresh proof of the Author's impartiality, and that he was not, as is generally, but falfely, imagined, a bigot to the Cavalier party.
Or, like the plagues of Egypt, meant a curse,
Not to reclaim us, but to make us worse.
Twice have men turn'd the World (that filly blockhead)
The wrong fide outward, like a juggler's pocket,
Shook out hypocrify as fast and loose
As e'er the devil could teach, or finners ufe,
And on the other fide at once put in
As impotent iniquity and fin.
As fculls that have been crack'd are often found
Upon the wrong fide to receive the wound;
And like tobacco-pipes at one end hit,
To break at th' other ftill that 's opposite ;
So men, who one extravagance would fhun,
Into the contrary extreme have run;
And all the difference is, that, as the first
Provokes the other freak to prove the worst,
So, in return, that ftrives to render lefs
The laft delufion, with its own excefs,
And, like two unskill'd gamefters, ufe one way,
With bungling t' help out one another's play.
For those who heretofore fought private holes,
Securely in the dark to damn their fouls,
Wore vizards of hypocrify, to steal
And flink away in masquerade to hell,
Now bring their crimes into the open fun,
For all mankind to gaze their worst upon,
As eagles try their young against his rays,
prove if they 're of generous breed or bafe;
Call heaven and earth to witnefs how they 've aim'd,
With all their utmost vigour, to be damn'd, ·
And by their own examples, in the view
Of all the world, striv'd to damn others too;
On all occafions fought to be as civil
As poffible they could t' his grace the Devil,
To give him no unneceffary trouble,
Nor in fmall matters ufe a friend fo noble,
But with their conftant practice done their best
T'improve and propagate his interest:
For men have now made vice fo great an art,
The matter of fact 's become the flighteft part;
And the debauched' actions they can do,
Mere trifles to the circumftance and show.
For 'tis not what they do that 's now the fin,
But what they lewdly' affect and glory in,
As if prepofteroufly they would profefs
A forc'd hypocrify of wickedness,
And affectation, that makes good things bad,
Muft make affected fhaine accurs'd and mad;
For vices for themfelves may find excufe,
But never for their compliment and shews;
That if there ever were a mystery
Of moral fecular iniquity,
And that the churches may not lose their due
By being incroach'd upon, 'tis now, and new:
For men are now as fcrupulous and nice,
And tender-confcienc'd of low paltry vice;
Difdain as proudly to be thought to have
To do in any mischief but the brave;
As the moft fcrupulous zealot of late times
T' appear in any but the horrid'st crimes;
Have as precife and ftrict punctilios
Now to appear, as then to make no shows,
And fteer the world, by disagreeing force
Of different customs, 'gainst her natural course:
So powerful's ill example to encroach,
And Nature, spite of all her laws, debauch,
Example, that imperious dictator
Of all that's good or bad to human nature,
By which the world 's corrupted and reclaim'd,
Hopes to be fav'd and ftudies to be damn'd;
That reconciles all contrarieties,
Makes wisdom foolishness, and folly wife,
Imposes on divinity, and fets
Her feal alike on truths and counterfeits
Alters all characters of virtue' and vice,
And paffes one for th' other in disguise;
Makes all things, as it pleafes, understood,
The good receiv'd for bad, and bad for good;
That flyly counter-changes wrong and right,
Like white in fields of black, and black in white;
As if the laws of Nature had been made
Of purpose only to be disobey'd;
Or man had loft his mighty interest,
By having been diftinguifh'd from a beast;
And had no other way but fin and vice,
To be restor'd again to Paradise.
How copious is our language lately grown, To make blafpheming wit, and a jargon !
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