As I remember, faid the fober Hind,

Thofe toils were for your own dear self defign'd,
As well as me; and with the felf-fame throw,
To catch the quarry and the vermin too,
Forgive the fland'rous tongues that call'd you fo.
Howe'er you take it now, the common cry
Then ran you
down for your rank loyalty.
Befides, in Popery they thought you nurft,
As evil tongues will ever fpeak the worst,
Because fome forms, and ceremonies fome
You kept, and stood in the main question dumb.
Dumb you were born indeed; but thinking long
The teft it seems at last has loos'd your tongue.
And to explain what forefathers meant,
your

By real prefence in the facrament,

After long fencing pufli'd against a wall,

Your falvo comes, that he's not there at all:

There chang'd your faith, and what may change
may fall.

Who can believe what varies every day,
Nor ever was, nor will be at a stay?

Tortures may force the tongue untruths to
tell,

And I ne'er own'd myself infallible,

Reply'd the Panther: grant fuch presence were,
Yet in your fenfe I never own'd it there.

A real virtue we by faith receive,

And that we in the facrament believe.

Then faid the Hind, as you the matter state,
Not only Jesuits can equivocate;

For real, as you now the word expound,
From folid fubftance dwindles to a found.
Methinks an Æfop's fable you repeat ;

You know who took the shadow for the meat :
Your church's fubftance thus you change at will,
And yet retain your former figure ftill.

I freely grant you spoke to fave your life;
For then you lay beneath the butcher's knife.
Long time you fought, redoubled battery bore,
But, after all, against yourself you swore;
Your former felf: for every hour your form
Is chopp'd and chang'd, like winds before a storm.
Thus fear and intereft will prevail with some;
For all have not the gift of martyrdom.

The Panther grin'd at this, and thus reply'd ;
That men may err was never yet deny'd.
But, if that common principle be true,
The cannon, dame, is levell'd full at you.
But, fhunning long difputes, I fain would fee
That wond'rous wight Infallibility,

Is he from heaven, this mighty champion, come: Or lodg'd below in fubterranean Rome?

First, feat him fomewhere, and derive his race, Or elfe conclude that nothing has no place.

Suppofe, tho I difown it, faid the Hind,
The certain manfion were not yet affign'd:
The doubtful refidence no proof can bring
Against the plain existence of the thing.
Because philofophers may disagree,

If fight be emiffion or reception be,
Shall it be thence inferr'd, I do not fee?
But you require an answer pofitive,

Which yet, when I demand, you dare not give;
For fallacies in univerfals live.

I then affirm that this unfailing guide

In

pope and general councils muft refide;

Both lawful, both combin'd: what one decrees
By numerous votes, the other ratifies :
On this undoubted fenfe the church relies.
'Tis true, fome doctors in a scantier space,

I mean, in each apart, contract the place.

1

Some, who to greater length extend the line,
The church's after-acceptation join.
This last circumference appears too wide;
The church diffus'd is by the council ty'd ;

As members, by their representatives
Oblig'd to laws, which prince and fenate gives.
Thus fome contract, and fome enlarge the fpace:
In pope and council who denies the place,
Affifted from above with God's unfailing grace?
Those canons all the needful points contain ;
Their sense so obvious, and their words so plain,
That no difputes about the doubtful text

Have hitherto the laboring world perplex'd.

If

any fhould in after-times appear,

New councils must be call'd, to make the mean

ing clear :

Because in them the power fupreme refides;
And all the promises are to the guides.

This may be taught with found and fafe defence:
But mark how fandy is your own pretence,
Who, fetting councils, pope and church aside,
Are every man his own prefuming guide.
The facred books, you fay, are full and plain,
And every needful point of truth contain :
All who can read interpreters may
Thus, tho your several churches disagree,
every faint has to himself alone
The fecret of this philofophic stone:

Yet

be:

These principles your jarring fects unite, When differing doctors and disciples fight. Tho Luther, Zuinglius, Calvin, holy chiefs, Have made a battle royal of beliefs ;

Or like wild horfes feveral ways have whirl'd The tortur'd text about the christian world; Each Jehu lafhing on with furious force, That Turk or Jew could not have us'd it worse No matter what diffenfion leaders make, Where ev'ry private man may fave a stake; Rul'd by the fcripture and his own advice, Each has a blind bye-path to Paradise ; Where driving in a circle flow or fast, Oppofing fects are fure to meet at last. A wond'rous charity you have in store For all reform'd to pafs the narrow door: So much, that Mahomet had fcarcely more. For he, kind prophet, was for damning none; But Chrift and Mofes were to fave their own; Himself was to fecure his chofen race, Tho reafon good for Turks to take the place, And he allow'd to be the better man, In virtue of his holier Alcoran.

True, faid the Panther, I fhall ne'er deny My brethren may be fav'd as well as I: