VI. Till then, by Nature crown'd, each patriarch sat, King, priest, and parent of his growing state; On him, their second Providence, they hung, Their law his eye, their oracle his tongue. He from the wondering furrow call'd the food, Taught to command the fire, control the flood, 220 Draw forth the monsters of the abyss profound, Or fetch the aërial eagle to the ground. Till drooping, sickening, dying they began Whom they revered as god to mourn as man: Then, looking up from sire to sire, explored One great first Father, and that first adored. Or plain tradition that this All begun, Convey'd unbroken faith from sire to son; The worker from the work distinct was known, And simple reason never sought but one: 230 Ere wit oblique had broke that steady light, Man, like his Maker, saw that all was right; To virtue, in the paths of pleasure, trod, And own'd a Father when he own'd a God. Love all the faith, and all the allegiance then; For nature knew no right divine in men, No ill could fear in God; and understood A sovereign Being, but a sovereign good. True faith, true policy, united ran, That was but love of God, and this of Man. 240 Who first taught souls enslaved, and realms undone, The enormous faith of many made for one; That proud exception to all Nature's laws, To invert the world, and counterwork its cause? Force first made conquest, and that conquest, law; 'Till Superstition taught the tyrant awe, Then shared the tyranny, then lent it aid, And gods of conquerors, slaves of subjects made: She, midst the lightning's blaze, and thunder's sound, When rock'd the mountains, and when groan'd the ground, 250 She taught the weak to bend, the proud to pray, To Power unseen, and mightier far than they: She, from the rending earth and bursting skies, Saw gods descend, and fiends infernal rise: Here fix'd the dreadful, there the blest abodes; Fear made her devils, and weak hope her gods; Gods partial, changeful, passionate, unjust, Whose attributes were rage, revenge, or lust; Such as the souls of cowards might conceive, And, form'd like tyrants, tyrants would believe. 260 Zeal then, not charity, became the guide; And hell was built on spite, and heaven on pride. Then sacred seem'd the ethereal vault no more; Altars grew marble then, and reek'd with gore: Then first the Flamen tasted living food; Next his grim idol smear'd with human blood; With Heaven's own thunders shook the world below, And play'd the god an engine on his foe.