of nature herself. All these things he can perform by the assistance of reason.

By imagination, man seems to verge towards creative power. Aided by this, he can perform all the wonders of sculpture and painting. He can almost make the marble speak. He can almost make the brook murmer down the painted landscape. Often, on the pinions of imagination, he soars aloft where the eye has never travelled: where other stars glitter on the mantle of night, and a more effulgent sun lights up the blushes of morning. Flying from world to world, he gazes on all the glories of creation; or, lighting on the distant margin of the universe, darts the eye of fancy over the mighty void, where power creative never yet has energized; where existence still sleeps in the wide abyss of possibility.

By imagination he can travel back to the source of time; converse with the successive generations of men, and kindle into emulation while he surveys the monumental trophies of ancient art and glory. He can sail down the stream of time until he loses "sight of stars and sun, by wandering into those retired parts of eternity, when the heavens and the earth shall be no more."

To these unequivocal characteristics of greatness in man, let us adduce the testimony of nature herself. Surrounding creation subserves the wants and proclaims the dignity of man. For him day and night visit the world. For him the seasons walk their splendid round. For him the earth teems with riches, and the heavens smile with beneficence.

All creation is accurately adjusted to his capacity for bliss. He tastes the dainties of festivity, breathes the perfumes of morning, revels on the charms of melody, and regales his eye with all the painted beauties of vision. Whatever can please, whatever can charm, whatever can expand the soul with ecstasy of bliss, allures and solicits his attention. All things beautiful, all things grand, all things sublime, appear in native love liness, and proffer man the richest pleasures of fruition. INTERNAL

Salan.

INFERNAL CONFERENCE.

FR

RIENDS and confederates, welcome! for this proof

Of your affiance, thanks. On every call,

Whether we need your counsel or your arms,
Joyful I see your ready zeal displays
Virtues, which hell itself cannot corrupt.
mean not to declaim: the occasion told
Speaks its own import, and the time's dispatch
All waste of words forbids. God's Son on earth,
Christ, the reveal'd Messias, how t' oppose
Is now the question; by what force, or power;
(Temptations have been tried, I name not them ;)
Or dark conspiracy, we may pull down

This Sun of Righteousness from his bright sphere,
Declare, who can. I pause for a reply.

Baal. Why thus on me, as I were worthy; me,
Lost being like yourselves; as I alone
Could compass this high argument; on me,
Least in your sapient conclave; why you point
These scrutinizing looks, I muse; and, aw'd
By this your expectation, fain would shrink
From the great task to silence, had you not
O'er these poor faculties such full control,
As to put by all pleas, and call them forth
In heaven or earth, or hell's profound abyss,
Yours in all uses, present at all hours.
Our kingly chief hath told us we are met
To combat Christ on earth. Be't so! We yet
May try our fortune in another field;

Worse fortune than in heav'n befel our arms;
Worse downfall than to hell, we cannot prove.
But with the scene our action too must change :
How to what warfare? Circumvention, fraud,
Seduction; these are earthly weapons; these
As man to man opposes, so must we

To Christ incarnate. There be some, who cry,
$

Hence

Hence with such dastard arts! War, open war!
I honor with such bold counsellors, and yield
All that I can, my praise: till one be found,
One that may rival God's own Son in power,
And miracle to miracle oppose,

More than my praise I cannot; my assent

I will not give ; 'twere madness. And how war
With God? what arms may we employ 'gainst him,
Whose very prophets can call down heaven's fires
Upon our priests and altars? For myself,
What powers I had I shall not soon forget;
What I have left I know, and for your use
Shall husband as I may, not vainly risk
Where they must surely fail. The Jews pretend
That Christ colludes with Beelzebub; the Jews
As far mistake my nature as my name.
The fallacy, O peers, confutes itself,
Forg'd to disparage Christ, not honor me.
Oh! that I had his wonder-working powers;
I'm not that fool to turn them on myself:
No, my brave friends, I've yet too much to lose.
Therefore no more of Beelzebub and Christ;
No league, no compact can we hold together.
What then ensues? Despair? Perish the thought!
The brave renounce it, and the wise prevent ;
You are both wise and brave. Our leader says
Temptations have been tried, and tried in vain,
Himself the tempter. Who will tread that ground,
Where he was foil'd? For Adam a mere toy,
An apple serv'd; Christ is not brib'd by worlds :
So much the second Man exceeds the first
In strength and glory. But though Christ himself
Will not be tempted, those who hear him may :
Jews may be urg'd to envy, to revenge,

To murder: a rebellious race of old!
Wist ye not what a train this preacher hath,
What followers, what disciples? These are men,
Mere men, frail sons of Adam, born in sin.
Here is our hope. I leave it to your thoughts.

Moloch.

Moloch. My thoughts it seems are known before I

speak;

War, open war is all my note.

I rise

face;

To thank the prophet, who thus reads my heart,
Where honesty should wear it, in my
That face from danger I did never hide;
How then from him? Nor am I by his praise
More honor'd than by his dissenting voice;
For whilst he counsels circumvention, fraud,
Seduction, (if my memory wrong his words
I yeld it to correction) we stand off,

Wide as the poles apart. Much I had hop'd
When the great tempter fail'd, and in your ears
Sung his own honor's dirge, we had heard the last
Of plots and mean temptations; mean I call them,
For great names cannot sanctify mean deeds.
Satan himself knows I oppos'd th' attempt,
Appeal'd, protested; my thrice honor'd chief
Knows it full well, and blushes for th' event.
And are we now caballing how t' outwit
A few poor harmless fishermen; for such
Are Christ's disciples; how to gull and cheat
Their simple hearts of honesty? Oh peers,
For shame, if not for pity, leave them that,
That beggar's virtue. And is this the theme,
The mighty theme, which now employs the thoughts
Of
your immortal synod? Shame, Oh shame!
Princes, dominions, arch-angelic thrones,

Imperial lords! These were your titles once;
By these names ye were known above the stars;
Shame not your ancient dignities, nor sink
Beneath the vilest of the sons of men,
Whisperers, informers, spies. If Christ be God,
Fight, as becometh you to fight, with God:
If man, and sure his birth bespeaks no more,*
Why all this preparation, this consult,
These mighty machinations and cabals?
Off with your foe at once; dismiss him hence
Where all his brother prophets have been sent;

Where

Where his precursor John is gone before;
Whose voice still echoes through this wilderness,
"Repent ye, for God's kingdom is at hand!
Prepare ye the Lord's way!" It is prepar'd;
It leads to death; it marshals him the road
To that oblivious bourne, whence none return.
Herod yet lives; another royal feast,
Another wanton dance, and he, for whom
So many innocents were slain, shall fall.
Once vanquish'd, are we therefore to despair?
In heav'n, unequal battle ye provok'd;

Though vast our host, the million was with God.
On earth, inquire of all the nations round

Whom they will serve; with one voice they reply,
We are their Gods; they feed us with their blood,
Their sons and daughters they make pass through fire
To do us grace: if their own flesh they give,
Shall they withhold to sacrifice a foe?

Twelve tribes were all Jehovah had on earth,
And ten are lost; of this small remnant, few

And wrecthed are the friends that league with Heav'n.
And where is now Christ's promis'd reign on earth?
When God's own servants rise against his Son,
And those, to whom the promises were giv❜n,
Revolt from their Messias, can we wish
Greater revenge? What need have we to tempt
Those, who have hearts rebellious as our own,
As prompt to malice, no less prone to vex
God's righteous Spirit? And let come what may,
It comes not to our loss, rather our gain.
Let God arise to vengeance; let him pour
Destruction on his temple, whose proud height
Our chief can witness, measur'd by his fall:
Let him not leave one stone upon another,
As his rash Son hath menac'd; let his wrath
Through all the inhospitable earth disperse
His scatter'd tribes; such ever be the fate
Of all his worshippers! may scorn, contempt,
Derision be their lot, and may their God