'Be that my task' (replies a gloomy clerk, Sworn foe to mystery, yet divinely dark; 460 Whose pious hope aspires to see the day When moral evidence[429] shall quite decay, And damns implicit faith, and holy lies, Prompt to impose, and fond to dogmatise:) 'Let others creep by timid steps and slow, On plain experience lay foundations low, By common sense to common knowledge bred, And last, to Nature's cause through Nature led: All-seeing in thy mists, we want no guide, Mother of arrogance, and source of pride! 470 We nobly take the high priori road,[430] And reason downward, till we doubt of God: Make Nature still[431] encroach upon his plan; And shove him off as far as e'er we can: Thrust some mechanic cause into his place; Or bind in matter, or diffuse in space.[432] Or, at one bound o'erleaping all his laws, Make God man's image, man the final cause, Find virtue local, all relation scorn, See all in self, and but for self be born: 480 Of nought so certain as our reason still, Of nought so doubtful as of soul and will. O! hide the God still more! and make us see, Such as Lucretius drew, a God like thee: Wrapt up in self, a God without a thought, Regardless of our merit or default. Or that bright image[433] to our fancy draw, Which Theocles[434] in raptured vision saw, While through poetic scenes the genius roves, Or wanders wild in academic groves; 490 That Nature our society adores,[435] Where Tindal dictates, and Silenus[436] snores.' Roused at his name, up rose the bousy sire, And shook from out his pipe the seeds of fire; Then snapt his box, and stroked his belly down: Rosy and reverend, though without a gown. Bland and familiar to the throne he came, Led up the youth, and call'd the goddess dame. Then thus: 'From priestcraft happily set free, Lo! every finish'd son returns to thee: 500 First, slave to words,[437] then vassal to a name, Then dupe to party; child and man the same; Bounded by nature, narrow'd still by art, A trifling head, and a contracted heart; Thus bred, thus taught, how many have I seen, Smiling on all, and smiled on by a queen?[438] Mark'd out for honours, honour'd for their birth, To thee the most rebellious things on earth: Now to thy gentle shadow all are shrunk, All melted down in pension or in punk! 510 So K----, so B---- sneak'd into the grave, A monarch's half, and half a harlot's slave. Poor W----,[439] nipp'd in folly's broadest bloom, Who praises now? his chaplain on his tomb. Then take them all, oh, take them to thy breast! Thy Magus, goddess! shall perform the rest.'