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And for that cause those promises detest,
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; As undivided, so from errors free; As one in faith, so one in sanctity. Thus she, and none but she, the insulting rage Of heretics opposed from age to age; Still when the giant-brood invades her throne, She stoops from heaven, and meets them half way
down, And with paternal thunder vindicates her crown. But like Egyptian sorcerers you stand, And vainly lift aloft your magic wand, To sweep away the swarms of vermin from the land; You could, like them, with like infernal force, Produce the plague, but not arrest the course. But when the boils and blotches, with disgrace And public scandal. sat upon the face, Themselves attacked, the Magi strove no more, They saw God's finger, and their fate deplore; Themselves they could not cure of the dishonest
Thus one, thus pure, behold her largely spread,
* The magicians imitated Moses in producing the frogs which infested Egypt; but they could not relieve from that, or any of the other plagues. By that of boils and blains they were afflicted themselves, hike the other Egyptians. “And the magicians could not stand before Moses because of the boils, for the boils were upon the magicians, and upon all the Egyptians.” Exod. 11.
The gospel-sound, diffused from pole to pole, Where winds can carry, and where waves can roll, The self-same doctrine of the sacred page Conveyed to every clime, in every age.
Here let my sorrow give my satire place, To raise new blushes on my British race. Our sailing ships like common-sewers we use, And through our distant colonies diffuse The draught of dungeons, and the stench of stews; Whom, when their home-bred honesty is lost, We disembogue on some far Indian coast, Thieves, pandars, palliards, * sins of every sort; Those are the manufactures we export, And these the missioners our zeal has made; For, with my country's pardon, be it said, Religion is the least of all our trade.
Yet some improve their traffic more than we; For they on gain, their only god, rely, And set a public price on piety: Industrious of the needle and the chart, They run full sail to their Japonian mart; Preventing fear, and, prodigal of fame, Sell all of Christian to the very name, f Nor leave enough of that to hide their naked
shame. Thus, of three marks, which in the creed we view, Not one of all can be applied to you ; Much less the fourth. In vain, alas! you seek The ambitious title of apostolic: God-like descent! 'tis well your blood can be Proved noble in the third or fourth degree; For all of ancient that you had before, I mean what is not borrowed from our store, Was error fulminated o'er and o'er;
+ Note X.
I Note XI.
Old heresies condemned in ages past,
Tis said with ease, but never can be proved,
yet she stands. Those ancient doctrines charged on her for new, Show, when, and how, and from what hands they
Thus, what you call corruptions, are, in truth,
Despair at our foundations then to strike,
you can prove your faith apostolic;
* Alluding to the doctrines of Wiccliff and the Lollards, condemned as heresies in their own times, but revived by the reformers.
A limpid stream drawn from the native source;
brace! Not more did Joseph o'er his brethren weep, Nor less himself could from discovery keep,
* About seven hundred years elapsed between the departure of the church of Rome from the simplicity of the primitive Christians, and the dawn of the Retormation.