I'll force you by right ratiocination
To leave your vitilitigation,
And make you keep to the' question close,
And argue dialectics.*
'The question then, to state it first,
Is, "Which is better or which worst,
Synods or Bears?" Bears I avow
To be the worst, and Synods thou;
But to make good th' assertion,
Thou say'st they're really all one.
If so, not worse; for if they're idem,
Why then tantundem dat tantidem.
For if they are the same, by course
Neither is better, neither worse.
But I deny they are the same,
More than a maggot and I am.
That both are animalia
I grant, but not rationalia:
For though they do agree in kind,
Specific difference we find ;
And can no more make Bears of these,
Than prove my horse is Socrates.
That Synods are Bear-gardens, too,
Thou dost affirm; but I say No:
And thus I prove it, in a word;
Whats'ever Assembly's not impow'r'd
To Censure, Curse, Absolve, and ordain,
Can be no Synod; but Bear-garden
Has no such pow'r; ergo, 'tis none,
And so thy sophistry's o'erthrown.
But yet we are beside the quest'on
Which thou didst raise the first contest on;
* According to the rules of logic.
For that was, "Whether Bears are better
Than Synod-men?" I say Negatur.
That Bears are beasts, and Synods men,
Is held by all: they're better then;
For Bears and Dogs on four legs go,
As beasts; but Synod-men on two.
'Tis true they all have teeth and nails;
But prove that Synod-men have tails;
Or that a rugged shaggy fur
Grows o'er the hyde of Presbyter;
Or that his snout and spacious ears
Do hold proportion with a Bear's.
A Bear's a savage beast, of all
Most ugly and unnatural;
Whelp'd without form, until the dam
Has lick'd it into shape and frame :
But all thy light can ne'er evict,
That ever Synod-man was lickt,
Or brought to any other fashion
Than his own will and inclination.
'But thou dost further yet in this
Oppugn thyself and sense; that is,
Thou wouldst have Presbyters to go
For Bears and Dogs, and Bear-wards too
A strange chimera of beasts and men,
Made up of pieces heterogene;
Such as in Nature never met
In eodem subjecto yet.
'Thy other arguments are all
Supposures hypothetical,
That do but beg; and we may choose
Either to grant them, or refuse.
Much thou hast said, which I know when
And where thou stol'st from other men,
(Whereby 'tis plain thy Light and Gifts
Are all but plagiary shifts)
And is the same that Ranter* said,
Who, arguing with me, broke my head,
And tore a handful of my beard;
The self-same cavils then I heard,
When being in hot dispute about
This controversy, we fell out:
And what thou know'st I answer'd then,
Will serve to answer thee again.'
Quoth Ralpho, 'Nothing but the' abuse
Of human learning you produce;
Learning, that cobweb of the brain,
Profane, erroneous, and vain;
A trade of knowledge as replete,
As others are with fraud and cheat;
An art to' incumber Gifts and wit,
And render both for nothing fit;
Makes Light unactive, dull and troubled,
Like little David in Saul's doublet:
A cheat that scholars put upon
Other men's reason and their own;
*The Ranters were a vile sect that sprung up in those times. Alexander Rose observes, That they held that God, devil, angels, heaven, and hell, &c. were fictions and fables: that Moses, John Baptist, and Christ, were impostors; and what Christ and the Apostles acquainted the world with, as to matter of religion, perished with them: that preaching and praying are useless, and that preaching is but public lying: that there is an end of all ministry and administrations, and people are to be taught immediately from God,' &c.
'Twas the opinion of those tinkers, tailors, &c. who governed Chelmsford at the beginning of the Rebellion, That learning had always been an enemy to the Gospel, and that it were a happy thing if there were no universities, and that all books were burnt except the Bible."
A fort of error, to ensconce
Absurdity and ignorance,
That renders all the avenues
To truth, impervious and abstruse,
By making plain things, in debate,
By art perplex'd and intricate :
For nothing goes for Sense or Light,
That will not with old rules jump right;
As if rules were not in the schools
Deriv'd from truth, but truth from rules.
This Pagan, Heathenish invention
Is good for nothing but contention :
For as in sword-and-buckler fight,
All blows do on the target light;
So when men argue, the great'st part
O' the contest falls on terms of art,
Until the fustian stuff be spent,
And then they fall to the' argument.'
Quoth Hudibras, Friend Ralph, thou hast
Outrun the constable at last :
For thou art fallen on a new
Dispute, as senseless as untrue,
But to the former opposite,
And contrary as black to white;
Mere disparata ;* that concerning
Presbytery; this, human learning;
Two things so averse, they never yet
But in thy rambling fancy met.
But I shall take a fit occasion
To' evince thee by' ratiocination,
Some other time, in place more proper
Than this we're in; therefore let's stop here,
And rest our wearied bones a while,
Already tir'd with other toil.
* Disparata.] Things separate and unlike.
The Knight, by damnable Magician,
Being cast illegally in prison,
Love brings his action on the case,
And lays it upon Hudibras.
How he receives the Lady's visit.
And cunningly solicits his suit,
Which she defers; yet, on parole,
Redeems him from the' inchanted hole.
to' observe Romantic method,
Let bloody steel a while be sheathed;
And all those harsh and rugged sounds
Of bastinados, cuts, and wounds,
Exchang'd to love's more gentle style,
To let our reader breathe a while:
In which, that we may be as brief as
Is possible, by way of preface,-
Is't not enough to make one strange,
That some men's fancies should ne'er change,
But make all people do and say
The same things still the self-same way?
Some writers make all ladies purloin'd,
And knights pursuing like a whirlwind:
Others make all their knights, in fits
Of jealousy, to lose their wits;
Till drawing blood o' th' dames, like witches,
They're forthwith cur'd of their capriches.
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