Shall I speak plain, and in a nation free Assume an honest layman's liberty? I think, according to my little skill, To my own Mother Church submitting still, That many have been saved, and many may, 320 Who never heard this question brought in play. Th' unletter'd Christian, who believes in gross, Plods on to heaven, and ne'er is at a loss; For the strait gate would be made straiter yet, Were none admitted there but men of wit. The few by nature form'd, with learning fraught, Born to instruct, as others to be taught, Must study well the sacred page; and see Which doctrine, this or that, does best agree With the whole tenor of the work divine: 330 And plainliest points to Heaven's reveal'd design: Which exposition flows from genuine sense; And which is forced by wit and eloquence. Not that tradition's parts are useless here, When general, old, disinteress'd, and clear: That ancient Fathers thus expound the page, Gives Truth the reverend majesty of age: Confirms its force, by biding every test; For best authority's next rules are best. And still the nearer to the spring we go, 340 More limpid, more unsoil'd, the waters flow. Thus first traditions were a proof alone, Could we be certain such they were, so known: But since some flaws in long descent may be, They make not truth but probability. Even Arius and Pelagius durst provoke To what the centuries preceding spoke. Such difference is there in an oft-told tale: But Truth by its own sinews will prevail. Tradition written, therefore, more commends 350 Authority, than what from voice descends: And this, as perfect as its kind can be, Rolls down to us the sacred history: Which from the Universal Church received, Is tried, and after for itself believed. The partial Papists would infer from hence, Their Church, in last resort, should judge the sense. But first they would assume, with wondrous art, Themselves to be the whole, who are but part, Of that vast frame the Church; yet grant they were 360 The handers down, can they from thence infer A right to interpret? or would they alone Who brought the present, claim it for their own? The Book's a common largess to mankind; Not more for them than every man design'd: The welcome news is in the letter found; The carrier's not commissioned to expound; It speaks itself, and what it does contain In all things needful to be known is plain.