I fhould be much for open war, O peers,
As not behind in hate; if what was urg'd
Main reason to perfuade immediate war,
Did not diffuade me moft, and seem to caft
Ominous conjecture on the whole fuccefs;
When he who moft excels in fact of arms,
In what he counfels, and in what excels,
Miftruftful, grounds his courage on despair,
And utter diffolution as the fcope
Of all his aim, after fome dire revenge.
First, what revenge? The tow'rs of heav'n are fill'd
With armed watch, that render all accefs
Impregnable: oft on the bord'ring deep
Incamp their legions; or, with obfcure wing,
Scout far and wide into the realm of night,
Scorning furprife. Or could we break our way
By force, and at our heels all hell should rife
With blackeft infurrection, to confound
Heav'n's pureft light; yet our great enemy,
All incorruptible, would on his throne
Sit unpolluted; and th' ethereal mould,
Incapable of ftain, would foon expel
Her mischief, and purge off the bafer fire,
Victorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hope
Is flat defpair: we muft exafperate
Th' almighty victor to spend all his rage,
And that must end us; that must be our cure,
To be no more.
Sad cure! for who would lofe,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Thofe thoughts that wander through eternity,
To perish rather, fwallowed up and loft
In the wide womb of uncreated night,
Devoid of fenfe and motion? And who knows,
Let this be good, whether our angry foe
Can give it, or will ever? how he can,
Is doubtful; that he never will, is fure.
Will he, fo wife, let loofe at once his ire,
Belike through impotence, or unaware,
To give his enemies their wifh, and end
Them in his anger, whom his anger faves
To punish endless? Wherefore cease we then?
Say they who counfet war; we are decreed,
Referv'd, and deftin'd to eternal wo;
Whatever doing, what can we fuffer more,
What can we fuffer worfe? Is this then worft,
Thus fitting, thus confulting, thus in arms?
What, when we fled amain, purfu'd and ftruck
With heav'n's afflicting thunder, and befought
The deep to fhelter us? this hell then feem'd
A refuge from those wounds or when we lay
Chain'd on the burning lake? that fure was worse.
What if the breath that kindled thofe grim fires,
Awak'd, fhould blow them into fev'nfold rage,
And plunge us in the flames? or, from above,
Should intermitted vengeance arm again
His red right hand to plague us! what if all
Her ftores were open'd, and this firmament
Of hell should spout her cataracts of fire,
Impendent horrors, threat'ning hideous fall
One day upon our heads; while we perhaps
Designing or exhorting glorious war,
Caught in a fiery tempeft fhall be hurl'd
Each on his rock transfix'd, the sport and prey
L. 176. Cataracs.] Ital. Span, Fr. Lat. from the Gr. i. e. fal-. ling down with force, rushing violently downwards; water-falls in rivers from high rocks, as thofe of the Danube and Nile, which make the inhabitants deaf for three leagues, through the hideous noife of their fall. Many fuch are in the great river Tornea in Lapland, and in most rivers that defcend from high rocky mountains; but the cataract of Niagara near New-York, in North America, is the greatest in the world, being heard above thirty miles off, for the fall of it is feveral hundred feet deep. Mr. Cockburn faw one in South America 600 feet high, and heard the noife of it two. days before they came too it, Journey, p. 224. Here the furces of hell fire let out upon the fallen angels.
Of wracking whirlwinds; or for ever funk
Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains;
There to converse with everlasting groans,
Unrefpited, unpitied, unrepriev'd,
Ages of hopeless end? this' would be worse.
War therefore, open or conceal'd, alike
My voice diffuades; for what can force or guile
With him, or who deceive his mind, whofe eye
Views all things at one view? he from heav'n's height All these our motions vain fees, and derides ;
Not more almighty to refift our might,
Than wife to fruftrate all our plots and wiles.
Shall we then live thus vile, the race of heaven
Thus trampled, thus expell'd, to fuffer here
Chains and these torments? Better thefe than worse,
By my advice; fince fate inevitable
Subdues us, and omnipotent decree,
The victor's will. To fuffer, as to do,
Our ftrength is equal, nor the law unjuft
That fo ordains: this was at first resolv'd,
If we were wise, against so great a foe
Contending, and fo doubtful what might fall..
I laugh, when those who at the spear are bold
And vent'rous, if that fail them, fhrink, and fear, 205
What yet they know must follow, to endure
Exile, or ignominy', or bonds, or pain,
The fentence of their conqu'ror: this is now
Our doom; which if we can fuftain and bear,
Our fupreme foe in time may much remit
His anger; and perhaps thus far remov❜d,,
Not mind us not offending, fatisfy'd
With what is punish'd: whence thefe raging fires:
Will flacken, if his breath flir not their flames.
Our purer effence then will overcome
Their noxious vapour; or inur'd, not feel;
Or chang'd at length, and to the place conform'd.
In temper, and in nature, will receive
Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain;
This horror will grow mild, this darkness light ;. 220
Befides what hope the never-ending flight
Of future days may bring, what chance, what change:
Worth waiting; fince our prefent lot appears
For happy, though but ill; for ill, not worst;
If we procure not to ourselves more wo.
Thus Belial with words cloth'd in reafon's garb
Counsell'd ignoble eafe, and peaceful floth,
Not peace: : and after him thus Mammon spake::
Either to difinthrone the King of heaven.
We war, if war be beft, or to regain
Our own right loft: him to unthrone we then
May hope, when everlafting Fate fhall yield
To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the ftrife:
The former vain to hope, argues as vain
The latter for what place can be for us
Within heav'n's bound, unless heav'n's Lord fupreme
We overpow'r? Suppofe he fhould relent,
And publish grace to all, on promife made
Of new fubjection; with what eyes could we
Stand in his prefence humble, and receive
Strict laws impos'd, to celebrate his throne
With warbled hymns, and to his godhead fing
Forc'd Halleluiahs; while he lordly fits.
Our envied fov'reign, and his altar breathes
Ambrofial odours and ambrofial flowers,
Our fervile offerings? This must be our task
In heaven, this our delight; how wearifome
L. 243. Halleluiahs,] from Hallelujah, Heb. i. c. Praife ye the Lord. Songs of praife to God; rather an invitation to do fo. This word is much ufed in the Pfalms, and other books of the Old and New Teftament, in the Jewith, Grecian, and other liturgies. It is the inceffant exercife of angels of the prefence, and will be that of all the redeemed for ever and ever in heaven. See Rev. xix. 1. The Greeks write it Allelujah..
Eternity fo spent in worship paid
To whom we hate! Let us not then pursue,
By force impoffible, by leave obtain❜d,
Unacceptable, though in heav'n, our ftate
Of fplendid vaffalage; but rather seek
Our own good from ourselves, and from our own
Live to ourselves, though in this vast recefs,
Free, and to none accountable, preferring
Hard liberty before the easy yoke
Of fervile pomp. Our greatnefs will appear
Then moft confpicuous, when great things of fmall,
Ufeful of hurtful, profpe'rous of adverfe
We can create; and in what place foe'er
Thrive under ev'il, and work eafe out of pain,
Through labour and endurance. This deep world
Of darknefs do we dread? How oft amidft
Thick clouds and dark doth heav'n's all ruling Sire
Choose to refide, his glory unobfcur❜d,
And with the majesty of darkness round
Covers his throne; from whence deep thunders roar
Muft'ring their rage, and heav'n refembles hell?
As he our darknefs, cannot we his light
Imitate when we please? This defert foil
Wants not her hidden luftre, gems and gold:
Nor want we kill or art, from whence to raife
Magnificence; and what can heav'n show more?
Our torments also may in length of time
Become our elements; thefe piercing fires
As foft as now severe, our temper chang'd
Into their temper; which muft needs remove
The fenfible of pain. All things invite
To peaceful counfels, and the fettled ftate
Of order, how in safety best we may
Compofe our prefent evils, with regard
Of what we are, and where; difmiffing quite
All thoughts of war. Ye have what I advise.
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