To whom the Fiend with fear abasht reply'd. Be not fo fore offended, Son of God; Though Sons of God both Angels are and Men, If I to try.whether in higher fort
Than these thou bear'ft that title, have propos'd What both from men and Angels I receive, Tetrarchs of fire, air, flood, and on the earth Nations befides from all the quarter'd winds, God of this world invok'd and world beneath; Who then thou art whose coming is foretold To me fo fatal, me it most concerns.
The tryal hath indamag'd thee no way, Rather more honour left and more esteem; Me naught advantag'd, miffing what I aim'd. Therefore let pafs, as they are tranfitory, The Kingdoms of this world; I fhall no more Advise thee, gain them as thou canst, or not. And thou thy felf seem'st otherwise inclin❜d Than to a worldly Crown, addicted more To contemplation and profound dispute, As by that early action may be judg'd, When flipping from thy Mother's eye thou went'ft Alone into the Temple, there was found
Among the gravest Rabbies disputant
On points and questions fitting Mofes Chair, Teaching not taught, the childhood fhews the ma As morning fhews the day. Be famous then By wisdom, as thy Empire must extend, So let extend thy mind o'er all the world, In knowledge, all things in it comprehend: All knowledge is not couch'd in Mofes Law, The Pentateuch or what the Prophets wrote, The Gentiles alfo know, and write, and teach To admiration, led by Nature's light;
And with the Gentiles much thou must converfe, Ruling them by persuasion as thou mean'st, Without their learning how wilt thou with them, Or they with thee hold converfation meet? How wilt thou reason with them, how refute Their Idolifms, Traditions, Paradoxes?
Error by his own arms is best evinc'd.
Look once more c'er we leave this fpecular Mount Weftward, much nearer by Southweft, behold Where on th' Egean fhore a City stands Built nobly, pure the air, and light the foil, Athens the eye of Greece, Mother of Arts
And Eloquence, native to famous wits Or hospitable, in her sweet recefs,
City or Suburban, ftudious walks and fhades; See there the Olive Grove of Academe,
Plato's retirement, where the Attick Bird
Trills her thick-warbl'd notes the fummer long, There flow'ry hill Hymettus with the found Of Bees industrious murmur oft invites
To ftudious mufing; there Iliffus rolls
His whifp'ring ftream; within the walls then view The Schools of ancient Sages; his who bred Great Alexander to fubdue the World,
Lyceum there, and painted Stoa next:
There thou shalt hear and learn the fecret pow'r Of harmony in tones and numbers hit
By voice or hand, and various-meafur'd verfe, Eolian charms and Dorian Lyric Odes, And his who gave them breath, but higher fung, Blind Melefigenes thence Homer call'd,
Whofe Poem Phœbus challeng'd for his own. Thence what the lofty grave Tragoedians taught In Chorus or Iambick, teachers best
Of moral prudence, with delight receiv'd
In brief fententious precepts while they treat
Of fate and chance, and change in human life; High actions, and high paffions best defcribing: Thence to the famous Orators repair,
Those ancient, whofe refiftlefs eloquence Wielded at will that fierce Democratie, Shook th' Arsenal and fulmin'd over Greece; To Macedon, and Artaxerxes Throne; To fage Philofophy next lend thine ear, From Heav'n defcended to the low-rooft houfe Of Socrates, fee there his Tenement,
Whom well infpir'd the Oracle pronounc'd Wifeft of men; from whofe mouth iffu'd forth Mellifluous ftreams that water'd all the Schools Of Academics old and new, with those Sirnam'd Peripateticks, and the Sect Epicurean, and the Stoic fevere;
These here revolve, or, as thou lik'ft, at home, Till time mature thee to a Kingdom's weight, These rules will render thee a King compleat Within thy self, much more with Empire join'd. To whom our Saviour fagely thus reply'd. Think not, but that I know these things, or think
I know them not; not therefore am I short Of knowing what I aught; he who receives Light from above, from the fountain of light, No other doctrine needs, though granted true;
But these are falfe, or little elfe but dreams,"
Conjectures, fancies, built on nothing firm. The first and wifeft of them all profefs'd To know this only, that he nothing knew; The next to fabling fell and smooth conceits, A third fort doubted all things, though plain sense; Others in virtue plac'd felicity,
But virtue join'd with riches and long life, In corporal pleasure he, and careless ease, The Stoic last in Philofophic pride,
By him call'd virtue; and his virtuous man, Wife, perfect in himself, and all poffeffing Equal to God, oft fhames not to prefer, As fearing God nor man, contemning all Wealth, pleasure, pain or torment, death and life, Which when he lifts, he leaves, or boafts he can, For all his tedious talk is but vain boast,
Or fubtle shifts conviction to evade.
Alas what can they teach, and not mifs-lead;
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