So fpake the Son of God, and Satan flood
A while as mute confounded what to say, What to reply, confuted and convinc'd Of his weak arguing, and fallacious drift; At length collecting all his serpent wiles, With foothing words renew'd, him thus accosts. I fee thou know'ft what is of use to know, What best to say canft say, to do canst do; Thy actions to thy words accord, thy words
To thy large heart give utterance due, thy heart 10 Contains of good, wife, juft, the perfect shape. Should kings and nations from thy mouth consult, Thy counsel would be as the oracle
Urim and Thummim, thofe oraculous gems On Aaron's breast; or tongue of feers old Infallible: or wert thou fought to deeds That might require th' array of war, thy skill Of conduct would be fuch, that all the world
Could not sustain thy prowess, or subsist
In battel, though against thy few in arms. These God-like virtues wherefore dost thou hide, Affecting private life, or more obfcure
In savage wilderness? wherefore deprive All earth her wonder at thy acts, thyself The fame and glory, glory the reward That fole excites to high attempts, the flame Of moft erected fpi'rits, most temper'd pure Ethereal, who all pleasures else despise, All treasures and all gain esteem as dross, And dignities and pow'rs all but the higheft? Thy years are ripe, and over-ripe; the fon Of Macedonian Philip had ere these
Won Asia, and the throne of Cyrus held
At his dispose; young Scipio had brought down The Carthaginian pride; young Pompey quell'd 35 The Pontic king, and in triumph had rode. Yet years, and to ripe years judgment mature, Quench not the thirst of glory, but augment. Great Julius, whom now all the world admires, The more he grew in years, the more inflam'd With glory, wept that he had liv'd so long Inglorious: but thou yet art not too late.
To whom our Saviour calmly thus reply'd. Thou neither doft perfuade me to seek wealth For empire's fake, nor empire to affect For glory's fake by all thy argument.
For what is glory but the blaze of fame,
The peoples praise, if always praise unmix'd? And what the people but a herd confus'd, A miscellaneous rabble, who extol
Things vulgar, and well weigh'd, fcarce worth the They praise, and they admire they know not what, And know not whom, but as one leads the other; And what delight to be by such extoll❜d,
To live upon their tongues and be their talk,
Of whom to be difprais'd were no small praise?
His lot who dares be fingularly good.
Th' intelligent among them and the wife
Are few, and glory scarce of few is rais'd.
This is true glory and renown, when God
Looking on th' earth, with approbation marks The just man, and divulges him through Heaven To all his Angels, who with true applause Recount his praises: thus he did to Job, When to extend his fame through Heav'n and Earth, As thou to thy reproach may'st well remember, 66 He afk'd thee, Haft thou seen my fervant Job? Famous he was in Heav'n, on Earth lefs known; Where glory is false glory, attributed
To things not glorious, men not worthy' of fame. 70 They err who count it glorious to fubdue By conqueft far and wide, to over-run Large countries, and in field great battels win, Great cities by affault: what do thefe worthies,
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