Upon the Divine Attributes.

A Pindaric Essay.

Unity. Eternity.

I.

Whence sprung this glorious Frame, or when began
 Things to Exist, they could not always be? 
To what stupendous Energy
 Shall we ascribe the Origin of Man? 
That Cause, from whence all Beings else arose,
 Must Self-existent be alone,
 Intirely perfect, and but One:
 Nor Equal, nor Superior knows;
 Two firsts, in Reason, we can ne'er suppose. 
If that, in false Opinion, we allow,
 That once there absolutely Nothing was,
 Then Nothing could Be now:
 For by what Instrument, or how
 Shall Non-Existence to Existence pass? 
Thus Something must from Everlasting be,
 Or Matter, or a Deity. 
If Matter only uncreate we grant,
 We shall Volition, Wit, and Reason want;
 An Agent infinite, and Action free,
 Whence does Volition, whence does Reason flow? 
How came we to Reflect, Design, and Know? 
This from a nobler Nature springs,
 Distinct in Essence from Material Things;
 For Thoughtless Matter cannot Thought bestow. 
But if we own a God Supream,
 And all Perfection's possible in him:
 In him does boundless Excellence reside,
 Power to Create, and Providence to Guide. 
Unmade himself, could no Beginning have,
 But to all Substance prime Existence gave;
 Can, what he will Destroy, and what he pleases Save. 

Power.

II.

The undesigning Hand of giddy Chance,
 Could never fill with Globes of Light,
 So beautiful, and so amazing Bright,
 The lofty Concave of the vast Expanse;
 These could proceed from no less Power than Infinite. 
There's not one Atom of this wond'rous Frame,
 Nor Essence Intellectual, but took
 Existence, when the great Creator spoke,
 And from the common Womb of empty Nothing came. 
Let Substance be, He cry'd, and strait arose
 Angelick, and Corporeal too,
 All that Material Nature shows,
 And what does Things Invisible compose,
 At the same Instant sprung, and into Being flew. 
Mount to the Convex of the highest Sphere,
 Which draws a mighty Circle round
 Th' interior Orbs, as their capacious Bound,
 There Millions of new Miracles appear;
 There dwell the eldest Sons of Power Immense,
 Who first were to Perfection wrought,
 First to compleat Existence brought,
 To whom their Maker did dispense
 The largest Portions of created Excellence. 
Eternal now, not of Necessity,
 As if they could not cease to be,
 Or were from possible Destruction free. 
But on the Will of God depend,
 For that, which could begin, can end. 
Who, when the lower Worlds were made,
 Without the least Miscarriage, or Defect
 By the Almighty Architect,
 United Adoration paid,
 And with Exstatick Gratitude his Laws obey'd. 

III.

Philosophy of old, in vain essay'd
 To tell us, how this mighty Frame
 Into such beauteous Order came;
 But by false Reasonings, false Foundations laid,
 She labour'd hard, but still the more she wrought,
 The more was wilder'd in the Maze of Thought. 
Sometimes she fancy'd things to be
 Coeval with the Deity,
 And in the Form, which now they are
 From everlasting Ages were. 
Sometimes the casual Event
 Of Atoms floating in a space Immense,
 Void of all Wisdom, Rule, and Sense,
 But, by a lucky Accident,
 Tumbled into this Scheme of wond'rous Excellence. 
'Twas an establish'd Article of old
 Chief of the Philosophick Creed,
 And does in Natural Productions hold,
 That from meer Nothing, Nothing could proceed:
 Material Substance never could have rose,
 If some Existence had not been before,
 In Wisdom Infinite, Immense in Power,
 Whate'er is made, a Maker must suppose,
 As an Effect, a Cause, that could produce it shows. 
Nature and Art indeed have Bounds assign'd,
 And only Form to Things, not Being, give,
 That, from Omnipotence they must receive:
 But the Eternal Self-existent Mind,
 Can with a single Fiat cause to be
 All, that the wond'ring Eye surveys,
 And all, it cannot see. 
Nature may shape a beauteous Tree,
 And Art a noble Palace raise,
 But must not to Creative Power aspire;
 That, their great God alone can claim,
 As Pre-existing Substance doth require;
 So where they Nothing find, can Nothing Frame. 

Wisdom.

IV.

Matter produc'd had still a Chaos been,
 For Jarring Elements engag'd,
 Eternal Battles would have wag'd,
 And fill'd with endless Horror the tumultuous Scene;
 If Wisdom Infinite, for less
 Could not the vast prodigious Embrio wield,
 Or Strength compleat to labouring Nature yield,
 Had not with actual Address
 Compos'd the bellowing Hurry, and establish'd Peace. 
Whate'er this visible Creation shows
 That's lovely, uniform, and bright. 
That gilds the Morning, or adorns the Night,
 To her its Eminence and Beauty owes. 
By her all Creatures have their Ends assign'd,
 Proportion'd to their Nature, and their Kind;
 To which they steadily advance,
 Mov'd by right-Reason's high Command,
 Or guided by the secret Hand
 Of real Instinct, not imaginary Chance. 
Nothing, but Men, reject her sacred Rules,
 Who from the End of their Creation fly,
 And deviate into Misery;
 As if the liberty to act like Fools
 Were the chief Cause, that Heaven made 'em free. 

Providence.

V.

Bold is the Wretch, and blasphemous the Man,
 Who, Finite, will attempt to Scan
 The Works of Him that's infinitely Wise,
 And those he cannot Comprehend, denies;
 As if a space Immense were measurable by a Span. 
Thus the proud Sceptick will not own
 That Providence the World directs,
 Or its Affair inspects,
 But leaves it to it self alone. 
How does it with Almighty Grandeur suit,
 To be concern'd with our Impertinence;
 Or interpose his Power for the Defence
 Of a poor Mortal, or a senseless Brute? 
Villains could never so successful prove,
 And unmolested in those Pleasures live,
 Which Honour, Ease, and Affluence give:
 While such as Heaven adore, and Virtue love,
 And most the care of Providence deserve,
 Oppress'd with Pain, and Ignominy starve. 
What Reason can the wisest show,
 Why Murder does unpunish'd go? 
If the most High, that's Just and Good,
 Intends and governs all below;
 And yet regards not the loud Cries of guiltless Blood. 
But shall we things unsearchable deny,
 Because our Reason cannot tell us why
 They are allow'd or acted by the Deity? 
'Tis equally above the reach of Thought
 To comprehend, how Matter should be brought
 From Nothing, as Existent be
 From all Eternity. 
And yet that Matter is, we feel and see,
 Nor is it easier to define
 What Ligatures the Soul and Body join:
 Or how the Mem'ry does th' Impression take
 Of Things, and to the Mind restores 'em back. 

VI.

Did not th' Almighty, with immediate Care,
 Direct and govern this capacious All,
 How soon would things into Confusion fall;
 Earthquakes the trembling Ground would tear,
 And blazing Comets rule the troubled Air. 
Wide Inundations with resistless force
 The lower Provinces o'erflow,
 In spight of all that Human Strength could do,
 To stop a raging Sea's impetuous Course:
 Murder and Rapine ev'ry place would fill,
 And sinking Virtue stoop to prosp'rous Ill.
 Devouring Pestilences rave,
 And all that part of Nature which has Breath,
 Deliver to the Tyranny of Death,
 And hurry to the Dungeons of the Grave,
 If watchful Providence were not concern'd to save. 
Let the brave Soldier speak, who oft has been
 In dreadful Sieges, and fierce Battles seen;
 How he's preserv'd, when Bombs, and Bullets fly
 So thick, that scarce one Inch of Air is free;
 And tho' he does ten Thousand see
 Fall at his Feet, and in a Moment die,
 Unhurt retreats, or gains unhurt the Victory. 
Let the poor Ship-wreck'd Sailor show,
 To what invisible protecting Power
 He did his Life and Safety owe,
 When the loud Storm his well-built Vessel tore,
 And half a shatter'd Plank convey'd him to the Shore. 
Nay, let th' ungrateful Sceptick tell us, how
 His tender Infancy protection found,
 And helpless Childhood was with safety crown'd,
 If he'll no Providence allow? 
When he had nothing but his Nurse's Arms
 To guard him from innumerable fatal Harms. 
From Childhood, how to Youth he ran
 Securely, and from thence to Man? 
How in the Strength and Vigour of his Years,
 The feeble Bark of Life he saves,
 Amidst the Fury of tempestuous Waves,
 From all the Dangers he foresees, or fears;
 Yet ev'ry Hour 'twixt Scylla and Charibdis steers;
 If Providence, which can the Seas command,
 Held not the Rudder with a steady Hand? 

Omnipresence.

VII.

'Tis happy for the Sons of Men, that He,
 Who all Existence out of nothing made,
 Supports his Creatures by immediate Aid;
 But then this All-intending Deity
 Must Omnipresent be. 
For how shall we, by Demonstration, show
 The Godhead is this Moment here,
 If he's not present ev'ry where;
 And always so? 
What's not perceptable by Sense, may be
 Ten thousand Miles remote from me,
 Unless his Nature is from Limitation free. 
In vain we for Protection pray;
 For Benefits receiv'd high Altars raise,
 And offer up our Hymns and Praise;
 In vain his Anger dread, or Laws obey. 
An absent God from Ruin can defend
 No more, than can an absent Friend;
 No more is capable to know
 How gratefully we make returns,
 When the loud Musick sounds, and Victim burns,
 Than a poor Indian Slave of Mexico. 
If so, 'tis equally in vain,
 The Prosp'rous sings, and Wretched mourns;
 He cannot hear the Praise, or mitigate the Pain. 
But by what Being is confin'd
 The God-head we adore? 
He must have equal, or superior Power:
 If equal only, they each other bind;
 So neither's God if we define him right,
 For neither's Infinite:
 But if the other have superior Might,
 Then him, we worship, can't pretend to be
 Omnipotent, and free
 From all Restraint, and so no Deity. 
If God is limited in Space, his View,
 His Knowledge, Power, and Wisdom is so too:
 Unless we'll own that these Perfections are
 At all times present ev'ry where;
 Yet he himself not actually there. 
Which to suppose, this strange Conclusion brings,
 His Essence, and his Attributes are diff'rent things. 

Immutability.

VIII.

As the Supream Omniscient Mind
 Is by no Boundaries confin'd,
 So Reason must acknowledge him to be
 From possible Mutation free;
 For what He is, he was from all Eternity. 
Change, whether the Effect of Force, or Will,
 Must argue Imperfection still. 
But Imperfection in a Deity
 That's absolutely perfect, cannot be:
 Who can compel, without his own consent,
 A God to Change, that is Omnipotent? 
And ev'ry Alteration without Force,
 Is for the better, or the worse:
 He that is infinitely Wise,
 To alter for the worse will never chuse,
 That, a Depravity of Nature shews;
 And he, in whom all true Perfection lies,
 Cannot by Change to greater Excellencies rise. 
If God be mutable; which way, or how
 Shall we demonstrate, that will please him now,
 Which did a thousand Years ago? 
And 'tis impossible to know
 What he forbids, or what he will allow. 
Murder, Inchantment, Lust, and Perjury,
 Did in the foremost Rank of Vices stand,
 Prohibited by an express Command;
 But whether such they still remain to be,
 No Argument will positively prove,
 Without immediate Notice from above;
 If the Almighty Legislator can
 Be chang'd, like his inconstant Subject, Man
 Uncertain thus what to perform, or shun,
 We all intolerable Hazards run,
 When an eternal Stake is to be lost, or won. 

Justice.

IX.

Rejoice, ye Sons of Piety, and sing
 Loud Hallelujahs to his glorious Name,
 Who was, and will for ever be the same:
 Your grateful Incense to his Temples bring,
 That from the smoaking Altars may arise
 Clouds of Perfumes to the imperial Skies. 
His Promises stand firm to you,
 And endless Joys will be bestow'd,
 As sure, as that there is a God,
 On all who Virtue chuse, and righteous Paths pursue. 
Nor should we more his Menaces distrust,
 For while he is a Deity, he must
 (As infinitely good) be infinitely just. 
But does it with a gracious Godhead suit,
 Whose Mercy is his Darling Attribute,
 To punish Crimes, that temporary be,
 And those but trivial Offences too,
 Mere slips of human Nature, small and few,
 With everlasting Misery? 
This shocks the Mind, with deep Reflections fraught,
 And Reason bends beneath the pond'rous Thought. 
Crimes take their estimate from Guilt, and grow
 More heinous still, the more they do incense
 That God, to whom all Creatures owe
 Profoundest Reverence. 
Tho' as to that degree, they raise
 The Anger of the Merciful most High,
 We have no standard to discern it by,
 But the Infliction, he, on the Offender lays. 
So that if endless Punishment on all
 Our unrepented Sins must fall,
 None, not the least, can be accounted small. 
That God, is in Perfection just, must be
 Allow'd by all, that own a Deity:
 If so, from Equity he cannot swerve,
 Nor punish Sinners, more than they deserve. 
His Will reveal'd, is both express and clear,
 "Ye Cursed of my Father, go
"To everlasting Woe;
 If Everlasting means Eternal here,
 Duration absolutely without end,
 Against which Sense some zealously contend,
 That when apply'd to Pains, it only means,
 They shall ten Thousand Ages last,
 Ten Thousand more, perhaps, when they are past. 
But not Eternal in a Literal Sense;
 Yet own the Pleasures of the Just remain,
 So long as there's a God exists to Reign. 
Tho' none can give a solid Reason, why
 The Word Eternity,
 To Heav'n and Hell indifferently join'd,
 Should carry Senses of a different kind;
 And 'tis a sad Experiment to try. 

Goodness.

X.

But if there be one Attribute Divine,
 With greater Lustre than the rest can shine,
 'Tis Goodness, which we ev'ry Moment see
 The God-head exercise with such Delight,
 It seems, it only seems, to be
 The best belov'd Perfection of the Deity,
 And more than Infinite. 
Without that, he could never prove
 A proper Object of our Praise or Love. 
Were he not good, he'd be no more concern'd
 To hear the Wretched in Affliction cry,
 Or see the Guiltless for the Guilty die,
 Than Nero, when the flaming City burn'd,
 And weeping Romans o'er its Ruins mourn'd. 
Eternal Justice then would be
 But everlasting Cruelty:
 Power unrestrain'd, Almighty Violence,
 And Wisdom unconfin'd, but Craft immense. 
'Tis Goodness constitutes Him that He is,
 And those
 Who will deny him this,
 A God without a Deity suppose. 
When the lewd Atheist blasphemously swears
 By his tremendous Name,
 There is no God, but all's a Sham;
 Insipid Tattle, Praise and Prayers:
 Virtue, pretence; and all the sacred Rules
 Religion teaches, Tricks to cully Fools;
 Justice would strike th' audacious Villain dead,
 But Mercy boundless saves his guilty Head;
 Gives him Protection, and allows him Bread. 
Does not the Sinner, whom no Danger awes,
 Without Restraint his Infamy pursue,
 Rejoice, and glory in it too;
 Laugh at the Power Divine, and ridicule his Laws:
 Labour in Vice, his Rivals to excel,
 That when he's dead, they may their Pupils tell
 How wittily the Fool was damn'd, how hard he fell. 
Yet this vile Wretch in safety lives,
 Blessings in common with the best receives,
 Tho' he is proud t' affront the God those Blessings gives,
 The chearful Sun his Influence sheds on all,
 Has no respect to good or ill;
 And fruitful Showers without distinction fall,
 Which Fields with Corn, with Grass the Pastures fill,
 The bounteous Hand of Heaven bestows
 Success and Honour many times on those
 Who scorn his Favourites, and caress his Foes. 

XI.

To this good God, whom my advent'rous Pen
 Has dar'd to celebrate
 In lofty Pindar's Strain;
 Tho' with unequal strength to bear the weight
 Of such a pond'rous Theme, so infinitely great:
 To this good God, Celestial Spirits pay,
 With Exstacy divine, incessant Praise,
 While on the Glories of his Face they gaze,
 In the bright Regions of eternal Day. 
To him each rational Existence here,
 Whose Breast one spark of Gratitude contains,
 In whom there are the least remains
 Of Piety or Fear,
 His Tribute brings of joyful Sacrifice,
 For Pardon prays, and for Protection flies,
 Nay, the inanimate Creation give,
 By prompt Obedience to his Word,
 Instinctive Honour to their Lord;
 And shame the thinking World, who in Rebellion live. 
With Heaven and Earth then, O my Soul, unite,
 And the great God of both, adore, and bless,
 Who gives thee Competence, Content and Peace,
 The only Fountains of sincere Delight. 
That from the transitory Joys below,
 Thou, by a happy Exit, may'st remove
 To those ineffable, above:
 Which from the Vision of the Godhead flow,
 And neither End, Decrease, nor Interruption know.