THE DESIGN OF Part of the BOOK OF Ecclesiastes: OR, The Unreasonableness of men's restless Contentions for the present Enjoyments, REPRESENTED IN AN ENGLISH POEM.  
LONDON: Printed for james Knapton, at the Crown in St. Paul's Churchyard. 1691.   

TO THE READER.  
THE following Poem is not the effect of any extraordinary skill, which I pretend to in Poetry; but was first begun merely as the exercise and diversion of a few hours, that I was not capable of spending better. For though (as you will imagine) I had never made Poetry my business, nor ever intended to try whether I had any Genius that way; yet I had in course (as others do) read some of the Latin and Greek Authors, had now and then admired the performances of the chief of our own Countrymen too, had learned in some measure how to form Ideas of things in my mind, and got some rude and more general conceptions of the nature of Poesy; which was enough for my purpose, who propounded but to fill up some odd unserviceable vacancies in my time, and by being employed about a proper subject to deceive them more insensibly.  
But I was not long permitted thus quietly to entertain myself, the same causes, that disabled me for better things, increasing upon me and disabling me for this too. So, in short, the few indigested materials, which I had collected among my own thoughts in order to a Poem, were thrown by and forgotten. In this state of neglect they lay for some years; till lately, tumbling over some other trifles, I found them in the heap, and could not let them pass, inconsiderable as they were, without reflecting upon those circumstances, which put me upon this Essay. At last, being once engaged in meditation and led by it from one thing to another, I concluded to go on with what I had begun, and after my manner to finish it. This I have done, and (which is more) for some reason or other (forgive me, Reader,) have made it public too.  
And here though I do not discover the reason that hath induced me to publish it; yet if any one shall ever give himself the trouble to guests at it, I will direct his conjecture a little, by telling him, what are not the reasons. In the first place, it is not Interest. For as it is addressed to no great Name, which I might possibly hope to oblige by it; so neither is it calculated to gratify any particular humour, that I know of. Nor, again, is it Ostentation. For, if that had prevailed in me, I should either have accomplished myself better for such a work; or have attempted something, that I was already better, though never so little better, prepared for; or rather, I should have remained altogether silent, by which Fools are often taken to be wise, and I perhaps might have gained the reputation of knowing myself. Nor, in the third place, was it the importunity of Friends. For upon supposition that I have any, and that I have showed it them, it might be demanded, what made me publish it so far as that; and then, if they did give me a compliment, it would be but a rude return, for their civility to make them sharers in my faults.  
But to come at length to the thing itself, that is published, I hope it will be found what the Title-page [filled with no promises of mighty matters] does declare, viz. The representation of the design of part of the Book of Ecclesiastes, or the Unreasonableness of Men's restless contentions for the present enjoyments, in an English Poem. And in order to this give me leave to explain this Inscription of it.  
I. It is the representation of Solomon's design. A Translation turns the Words and Idioms of one Language into those of another. A Paraphrase exhibits the thoughts and meaning of an Author, either in the same or any other Language, by making just such additions to the Text, or alterations in it, as are necessary to that end. But this Poem, though it follows the method of Solomon's, insists upon his Topics, and speaks too in his Person, yet does not precisely confine itself either to his words or thoughts; but taking the main proposition, or argument, or the like, included in any verse or paragraph, makes bold to represent it after its own manner, frequently inserts what seems conveniently to introduce or illustrate or prove it, and sometimes on the other side omits things of less importance to it.  
II. It represents the design but of part of the book of Ecclesiastes. This book I take to be a collection of thoughts concerning Happiness, in which the Penman shows sometimes by what it is attainable, and sometimes by what it is not. In the negative part of it he taxes nothing more than the eager designs and immoderate labours of Mankind, which they undertake only for the sake of secular advantages. Therefore having just mentioned the general vanity of the World, he immediately infers the unreasonableness of this humane Drudgery for the things of it, and of expecting Happiness from them. But lest this unreasonableness should not be evident enough from a bare single assertion of vanity in sublunary things, he enumerates some particular Vanities and Evils, that affect these worldly labours; proving, that men get by them, either nothing, or but that which is transient and unsatisfactory. This he does, as occasion serves, through the whole Treatise, but the principal place, where he insists longest upon it, and in the most uninterrupted series, is from the beginning to chap. 4. v. 7. and this is that part, which I have endeavoured to give the drift and intention of. Indeed he hath not quite left the subject in the following Paragraph, but because he there applies himself to a particular sort of men, that have no Son nor Brother, and because I had occasion too to touch upon the like case before, therefore I have followed him no further.  
III. It represents Solomon's design in an English Poem. Here having given it a name according to those notions I have of Poetry, it may not be improper to let you know, what they are. For however imperfect or false they are, they may still discover what I intended by this appellation.  
History I suppose is addressed to the Understanding or Apprehension: and its Excellencies are, the truth of the Relations; a natural and clear disposition of things, showing their mutual connections and dependencies; and an apt and lively expression, that leaves sufficient Images of them upon the Reader's mind. Oratory directs itself not only to the Understanding, but also to the judgement, or some Passion apt to lead the Person, in whom it is raised, into assent: and its Virtues are therefore, close and conclusive Arguments; a powerful application to the Love or Hatred, Fear or Hope, Compassion or Severity of the Auditory; a method unforced, and easy to be comprehended; language, that is strong or taking; and a period agreeable to the matter, and falling gratefully upon the ear. But now Poetry penetrates through all these to the Admiration also; not only informs, or persuades, but exceedingly and above all delights us too; entertains our Fancy, and curdles our Blood. Here then every thing is more exalted; if the argument be Historical, it is not told directly, but with contrivance and unexpected surprises (— Per ambages, deorúmque ministeria, & fabulosum sententiarum tormentum praecipitandus est liber spiritus, ut potius furentis animi vaticinatio adpareat, quam religiosae orationis sub testibus fides, 
satire.  says Pet. Arbiter): when the World is to be convinced of the worth of any Person or thing, it is either insinuated with more art, or displayed in more lofty strains: when any Affection is to be moved or allayed, it is handled with more exactness: in fine, the subjects and the topics insisted upon in pursuit of them, are both more select; the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 of manners, and circumstances of things are delineated more fully and visibly; figures are more frequent and bold; and the words are so placed, as not only to sound well, but Musically. This I take to be the general notion of Poetry, by which it is differenced from the other ways of writing or speaking. But, after all, it must be noted, that when this general account of Poetry is applied to particular Poems, it rises or falls, is more or less conspicuous according to their several natures, which to be sure are not all of the same elevation.  
The principal kinds of Poems are, either those that tend to the advancement of Virtue: as, the Epic Poem, which sets before us the achievements of those, that have been famous and Heroic, as patterns for others in their circumstances: Tragedy, which teaches us not to over-value or rely upon temporal advantages, by the falls of those who have had the most of them; to be tenderhearted, by using to pity their misfortunes; to be courageous, by looking at their patience; and to be humble, by observing what the greatest of men may come to: Ode, that excites our devotion, by singing the attributes of the Deity; or a laudable emulation, by celebrating the praises of some Worthy: Eclogue, which commends to us the innocence of rural life: and Elegy, that continues a pious remembrance of the deceased Friends of our Country, of Learning, or ourselves: Or those, on the contrary, that tend to depress and discredit Vice: as Comedy, which presents to view the faults of common Conversation: and satire, which by its arguments exposes, not so much men, as their unreasonableness and enormities.  
This last is that, which we are now concerned in. I might therefore take this opportunity to tell a long story about that ancient Poem among the Greeks, which they called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; how it was an appendage to Tragedy, 
Hor. de Art Poet. v. 220.  and in a manner coeval to it; and how, as that was invented in honour to Bacchus, so this seems to be in honour to those Satyrs, who were accounted his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and Companions. 
AEl. Hist. var. l. 3. c. 40.  Or I might enter into a dispute about the Latin satire before Livius Andronicus' time: whether it was transplanted from Greece, 
Poet. l. 1. c. 12.  as Scaliger thinks, or sprung up again at Rome of its own accord, as it had done there before, 
De Sat. Hor. l. 1. Sat. 10. v. 66.  according to Casaubon and the Romans themselves. But neither of these are at all like that satire, which hath obtained for eighteen hundred years. 
Quint. l. 10. c. 1.  The Grecian satire was Dramatic, as appears not only from what is said before, but also from Euripedes' Cyclops still extant; whereas the more modern satire is Diegematic. And the old Latin satire, though it might be something better than the first Fescennine Poetry, yet consisted mostly in some incondit effusions of Ribaldry, and a little petulancy of Wit: But the latter, however preserved from the superstition of too critical Rules, is nevertheless become a just Poem, 
Hor. l. 1. Sat. 10. v. 67.  far more regular and polished, and should be more modest and virtuous. To this may be added, that the Primitive satire of the Romans was joined with Music and Dancing, and a great deal of gesticulation; and therefore when it had given occasion to Livius Andronicus to introduce elaborate Plays, 
Liv. l. 7. Hor. l. 2. Sat. 1. v. 62.  it was swallowed up in them, or at least annexed to them under the name of Exodium. So that the satire, which after this Ennius and others, but especially Lucilius, began to write, was new and quite of another nature.  
What this nature is, it is now time to inquire. Some place it in Mirth and Drollery; others in Severity or Acrimony. Those propose Horace for a pattern; and these contend, that juvenal is for them. But, if I may be admitted to deliver my own opinion freely, I think neither of them are right. For the first, though it may be of use in satire, yet continued through the whole work is Buffoonish, and belongs rather to the Exodium of an Atellan Fable, or at best to Old Comedy. And the other, though it hath a place too in satire, yet constantly and rigidly prosecuted is the property of an jambic or Invective Poem. Beside, though Horace hath a very familiar and pleasing Air, yet his discourses are for the most part argumentative and true, and consequently different from that which they call, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that minds jest more than truth, and considers men rather as risible than rational. He must be a man of a pleasant conceit, that can be provoked to laugh by his Arguments against Covetousness, 
L. 1. S. 1. L ● 2. S. 2. & alibi.  Luxury, etc. though these (which ought to be noted) do admit of laughter much more naturally than many other subjects. What can be more grave than that reasoning against Intemperance? 

L. 2. S. 2. — Vides, ut pallidus omnis  
Caenâ desurgat dubiâ? Quin corpus onustum  
Hesternis vitiis animum quoque praegravat unà,  
Atque affigit humo divinae particulam aurae.  Or that answer to him, who to defend this Rioting and Luxury, pleaded the largeness of his Estate, and how well it would bear it? 
— Ergo  
Quod superat, non est melius, quo insumere possis?  
Cur eget indignus quisquam, te divite? Quare  
Temple ruunt antiqua Deûm? Cur, improbe, carae  
Non aliquid patriae tanto emetiris acervo?  And so, on the other side, though juvenal does indeed write generally with more concern and awfulness than Horace, as indeed his subjects most commonly require, yet he is not so hot and violent, as some would make him. Methinks he looks a little like Horace, where he argues against them, that boast of their Family, but do nothing worthy of it: 

S. 8. v. 30. — Quis enim generosum dixerit hunc, qui  
Indignus g●nere, & praeclaro nomine tantùm  
Insignis? Nanum cujusdam Atlanta vocamus, etc.  And presently after: 
Vos humiles, inquis, vulgi pars ultima nostri, 
V. 44●   
Quorum nemo queat patriam monstrare parentis;  
Ast ego Cecropides. Vivas, & originis hujus  
Gaudia longa feras: tamen imâ plebe Quiritem  
Facundum invenies: solet hic defendere causas  
Nobilis indocti, etc.  Nay, sometimes he abates so much of his seriousness, as to be even merry; as, where the Man desires the sportula for his absent Wife, 
S. 1. v. 123. S. 2. v. 36. S. 3. v. 100  pretending her to be in the Litter with him; where Laronia takes up the Philosopher; where he describes the humour of the Greeks; 
V. 203.  the account of Codrus' furniture; all that story of the Fish, the Council called upon it, 
S. 4.  the blind Senators speech and wonderment, etc. The truth is, neither drolling nor inveighing; nay more, neither pleasantness nor gravity of reprehension (which yet are more properly found in the forementioned Authors) do express the nature of satire. They are but modes of it, and to be used as occasion requires, sometimes the one, and sometimes the other. For the Satirist, having variety of matters to treat of, cannot accommodate one sort of satire to them all, but must make the complexion of it differing according to the quality of his subject. But to give my thoughts, such as they are, concerning the nature of satire, and dispatch what I have to say upon it at once; 

1. As to the matter of satire, I suppose it should consist of Arguments against something, that is vicious or unreasonable. I know Lucilius brought in an evil allay to that perfection, which he first gave this latter satire, by levelling it at Persons rather than Things; but in this he must therefore be followed sparingly and with more caution than either he himself, or perhaps Horace, Persius, or juvenal have used. For a Poet in justice (and, I think, he that pretends to discourage Vice, should not himself give an example of so great a one as Injustice) hath no more power over a Man's Name, than over his Life or Estate. Besides, since Persons are made the subject of satire only as vicious or unreasonable, if the fault can be abstracted from the Person, and that destroyed without hurting this, as it will be more artificial, so will it be more effectual. For these reasons Varro and other considerable men, by a contrary extreme, totally disclaimed these Personal reflections of Lucilius. For to be impartial, it must be confessed, there are cases, when particular Men may be mentioned; as, when a Man's wickedness is so open and understood, that such liberty begets no new infamy to him; or so very enormous, that he is become as it were an Outlaw to Virtue and Society, and every Man's prey. For in such instances the Poet questionless is permitted the prudent use of a common privilege. Therefore I do not say, Lucilius is absolutely not to be imitated in this; but, that he is not to be imitated commonly, or without caution and tenderness.  
2. As to the manner of delivering these Arguments, sometimes they ought to be framed by way of slight and derision; as, when the thing satyrized hath something in its nature or circumstances so ridiculous, that it admits not serious treatment; or so mean and base, that it deserves it not. 
L. 1. S. 3. S. 7. S. 8. S. 9 L. 2. S. 3.  The unequal strains of Tigellius, in Horace; the contrast between Rupilius and Persius; the wooden Priapus and the Witches; the importunity of the Fop; the management of Damasippus, and his turning Philosopher; Catius' Kitchin-learning; 
S. 4. S. 8.  Nasidienus' vanity and sordidness, etc. are things below all arguments, but the bare exposing of them; and since they are ridiculous in themselves, the representation of them must be merry.  
3. Some crimes ought not to be meddled with, but seriously; as, when they are so great, of so deep a die, of such large extent, or dangerous consequence; that it would be trifling and levity to pretend to ridicule them, or correct them in that way, which is fitted rather for peccadilloes and the fopperies of Mankind; nay, and he might seem to be in a disposition to commit the same, who could be merry under the sense of them: or, when they are but the effects of ignorance or infirmity, especially if invincible; and scarce deserve so much, as to be played with and derided. The former sort should be handled with gravity and good earnest, if not detestation or indignation; the other with compassion and pity. juvenal could not writ●● 〈◊〉 properly against the Degeneracy of the later Rom●●s, than by showing them, how unlike this made ●●em, and detestable to their virtuous Ancestors in the other World: 
— Curius quid sentit, 
S. 2. v. 153.  & ambo  
Scipiadae? quid Fabricius, manesque Camilli?  
Quid Cremerae legio, & Cannis consumpta juventus,  
Tota bellorum animae? quoties hinc talis ad illos  
Umbra venit, etc.  Nor against that Cheating, which escapes external Courts, better than by an argument taken from the more certain tortures of Conscience: 

S. 13. v. 192. — Curio tamen hos tu  
Evasisse putes, quos diri conscia facti  
Mens habet attonitos, & surdo verbere caedit,  
Occultum quatiente animo tortore flagellum? etc.  Nor against that excessive Fear of death, which frights Men into the commission of evil, than by considering the religious ends of life: 

S. 8. v. 79.  Esto bonus miles, tutor bonus, arbiter idem  
Integer, ambiguae siquando citabere testis  
Incertaeque rei. Phalaris licèt imperet, ut sis  
Falsus, & admoto dictet perjuria tauro,  
Summum crede nefas animam praeferre pudori,  
Et propter vitam vivendi perdere causas.  He could not well tax Sodomy and such abominable filthiness in Philosophers and Teachers of Morality, Cruelty and Iniquity in Magistrates, Impiety in Priests, and the like, without detestation: 

S. 2. v. 1.  Ultra Sauromatas fugere hinc libet & glacialem  
Oceanum, quoties aliquid de moribus audent,  
Qui Curios simulant, & Bacchanalia vivunt, etc.  Nor the dispoiling an Orphan of his subsistence, and even forcing him to prostitute himself for bread, without indignation: 
Quid referam, quantâ siccum jecur ardeat irâ,  
Cum populum gregibus comitum premat hic spoliator  
Pupilli prostantis?  Neither, in the last place, could Persius without some kind of commiseration blame the error of those, who thought the Gods were plea●ed with Gold; because being ignorant of the Nature of God, they took their measures from that sense of things, which they had themselves; and concluded the Gods delighted in it, because they did: 
O curvae in terras animae, & caelestium inanes! 
S. 2. v. 61.   
Quid juvat hoc, templis nostros immittere mores,  
Et bona diis ex hac sceleratâ ducere pulpâ?  Or of that Youngman, who neglected his opportunities of Learning, through a no-perception of the excellencies and happiness of it: 
O miser, inque dies ultramiser, 
S. 3. v. 15●  huccine rerum  
Venimus?   
4. Many things may be treated either seriously or ridiculously; as the Poet's judgement or inclination shall determine him. Horace gravely reprimands Tullius' Ambition: 
Invidia accrevit, privato quae minor esset. 
L. 1. S. 6, v. 26.   But juvenal makes sport with Hannibal's: 
Expende Hannibalem, 
S. 10. v. 145.  quot libras in duce summo  
Invenies?  Nay, the Satirist in many things hath not only liberty to be either jocose or austere, but even to be either gay or sorrowful. Heraclitus bewept the same things that Democritus derided. And Lactantius writes of the consecration of some Heroes among the Heathen, 
De fall. Rel. l. 1. c. 18.  Equidem stature non possum dolen dumne potius an ridendum putem, cum videam & graves & doctos & (ut sibi videntur) sapientes viros in tam miserandis errorum fluctibus volutari, etc.  
5. Which way ever things are handled, whether gravely or merrily, the arguments ought to be apposite and pat: and if besides the reasonableness of them they contain something, that is uncommon or moderately daring, some peculiar turn or unusual thought, to take the Reader as well as convince him, they are better still. That in juvenal against the Prayers, which were made so earnestly for a long old age, is close enough: 
Sed quam continuis & quantis longa senectus  

S. 10. v. 190.  Plena malis? Deformem & tetrum ante omnia vultum  
Dissimilemque sui, deformem pro cute pellem,  
Pendentesque genas, and tales aspice rugas,  
Qualeis, umbri●eros ubi pandit Tabracha saltus  
In vetula scalpit jam mater s●nia buccâ, etc.  But that in Horace against being born Noble and Great is surprising: for he turns those very things into arguments against it, which are the advantages and pleasures, that other People desire it for. If this had been my case, says he, I must then have pursued my opportunities of enlarging my Estate; must have been taken up with visits; could have moved no whither without State and Attendance, etc. 

L. 1: S. 6. v. 100 — Mihi continuo major quaerenda foret res:  
Atque salutandi plures: ducendus & unus  
Et comes alter, uti ne solus rúsve peregr●ve  
Exirem: plures calones atque caballi  
Pascendi: ducenda petorita: nunc mihi curto  
Ire licet mulo, vel, si libet, usque Tarentum,  
Mantica cui lumbos onere ulceret atque eques armos.  But it is folly to pick particular instances of this kind out of Horace; since he abounds with them every where. For his thoughts are generally rational, and yet modified with a sort of newness and delicacy almost proper to himself. And in this it is [not raillery and merriment] that he excels juvenal and all the World beside.  
6. The arguments must be intelligible; else the end of satire is defeated. To this purpose they should all look the same way, and be directed to the proof of some one thing, without that intermixture and confusion of subjects, which so much displeases Scaliger in Horace's third satire of the first Book, 
Poet. l. 6, c. 7.  and does indeed not so much benefit or delight the Reader, as lose and perplex him. They should also be free from such needless ostentation of learning, as renders them obscure, and is commonly said to be Persius' fault.  
7. In reproving some Vices a special care must be taken not to expose them too nakedly or particularly: I mean such, as either natural Modesty restrains those, that have not extinguished it, from talking of; or such, as are either altogether, or in any part, to many unknown. Without this care the Satirist may set his Readers a pattern of such wickedness, as otherwise they had not thought of; or at least familiarize obscenity and roguery to them, and so dispose them for that, which he writes against. Against this rule Petronius Arbiter, and juvenal in many places have sinned beyond all pardon.    
Lastly, As to the character and style of satire, it is bold and free above all other; sometimes it is so great, that nothing can be more; sometimes again as low; and sometimes equable and middle to these; it takes allusions, figures, language and the like; sometimes from things of the highest nature o● esteem; and sometimes from those of the vilest; it accommodates itself to the matter and design in hand, when they require it; and when they do not, to the Genius of the Poet, or his present disposition. From this freedom of style it proceeds, that majesty prevails in juvenal, and easiness in Horace; and yet notwithstanding this that the former hath some mean strokes, and the other some that are magnific; as might easily be showed by particular examples, if there was any occasion.  
But notwithstanding this vast liberty of style, which may be used in satire without the imputation of a crime, I take it to be a greater degree of excellence to make it as agreeable to the general notion of Poetry, as the sense and design will permit.  
To apply all this to our purpose; I call the following lines a Poem, not only because I intended them to be something above downright Prose, but more particularly because I design them for a satire, containing arguments against Men's slavish toils in pursuit merely of the things of this World. Tho in this it may be I have not exactly observed my own rules; because I was confined in the main not only to Solomon's topics, but also to a serious way of representing them, lest I should be said to play with Scripture.  
But, after all, whether I have hit the right Idea of Poetry, and particularly of satire; or whether these Papers do at all answer that Idea, I am not very solicitous. For supposing, that my account is not a true one, or not tolerably copied, and so by consequence that, which I have called a Poem, no such thing; the Critics in Poetry may then indeed blame me for misapplying and profaning a word, but the thing itself, what other denomination soever it must bear, will by this means be out of their jurisdiction, which is no contemptible amends.  
However before it be degraded for this, or suffer upon any other account, permit me to pre-occupy some of those Objections, which upon the whole I fancy are most likely to be made against it; as, 1. That I have altered the nature of some words by making them proper, when they are really appellative and common. Thus when Solomon says, he observed from his window a young Man void of understanding, 
Prov. ch. 7.  how he met the strange Woman, etc. I have turned the word, which in the Original signifies young Man, into a Proper Name, and so call him Naar. Of this sort too is Mocher, Iccar, etc. 2. That some things do not consist with the truth of Chronology; as, where the name Parush is made in allusion to the Pharisees, who were later than all the Prophets; and where I use Teveth for the name of a month, which was not known among the jews till the Babylonish Captivity. 3. That other things do not agree with the History of the jews; as Statues mentioned among Solomon's curiosities; and elsewhere imprisonment for debt; which seem neither of them to be used by that People. 4. That I have alluded to events, which I own not then come to pass; as the slaying Baal's Prophets, and destruction of jerusalem. 5. That many descriptions of things are tedious, especially one or two of War; and that these, beside their disproportioned length, imply too much horror and dislike of it. 6. That I have misrepresented the sense of the Text in many places, or at least am singular. Lastly, That the verse, but especially the Rhimes, are weak, if not blundered.  
My answer to the first of these is, That I am excusable in taking this liberty, because the feigning of Names is common among Poets; because perhaps the generality of Names in their first originals were but appellative; but chiefly because having not History enough before Solomon's days to furnish me with instances for my purpose, I was in a manner forced upon this shift.  
To the second, That, as to Parush, though there was no Sect of Pharisees form in Solomon's time, yet in all places and ages, there have been canting Pharisaical Knaves, who in compliance with their designs, must keep themselves distinguished and separated [〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉] from others; 
Clau. Script. p. 27.  and Hit inger tells us out of two good Authors, Scaliger and L'Empereur, that some have been called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, who were not of the Sect of the Pharisees: wherefore I take the Name not from the Sect, but from the common signification of that word. As to Teveth, that it might be known among the jews before the Captivity, though there was no occasion for the mentioning of it before that time: that probably it was known, because they had names for other months, as Abib, Zif, Ethanim, Bul, etc. and it is very unnatural to have names for some, 
Ex. 13. 4. 1 K. 6. 1. 8. 2. 6. 38.  and not for all: that however, granting it to be a Chaldee word, Hebrew and Chaldee are but different dialects of the same Language, between which there hath always been a familiar communication: that the more modern jews do not only frequently draw Chaldee words into their Rabbinical writings, but Grotius tells us, 
In Synop. Critic.  that even in this Ecclesiastes there are multa vocabula quae non alibi quam in Daniele, Esdra, & Chaldaeis interpretibus reperias: and that therefore if the word be not so old among the jews as Solomon, yet the jews, and particularly the Author of this book, have authorized this way of borrowing from the Chaldeans.  
To the third, That, as to Statues, 
David. b. 1. n. 20.  Mr. Cowley asserts the civil use of them among the elder jews; though the rigour of the later would not accept of their liberty in this case. And as to imprisonment for debt, our Saviour mentions it, Mat. 5. 25, 26. & 18. 30. upon the first of which places Grotius observes, 
In Synop. Critic.  Hinc apparet, apud judaeos, itidem ut apud Graecos Romanosque solitos fuisse in carcerem conjici, qui se aere alieno non exsolvebant.  
To the fourth, That Solomon being a Prophet, and the things mentioned in the Objection great enough to be worthy the notice of a Prophetic Spirit, it can be no extraordinary fault to make him hint them to the World beforehand.  
To the fifth, That, as to the general part of the charge, perhaps the whole Poem may be too long, unless it were better. But as to that particular of War, I thought it was necessary in consideration of Solomon's character, to make him represent it as his great aversion; nay, so great, that when he happened to meet with the subject any where, he should scarce be able to contain himself: for his Name, his Wealth, his Enjoyments, his Studies, his Wisdom, all speak him a more than ordinary friend to Peace.  
To the sixth, That if I am now and then driven upon a singular interpretation to make the Text coherent, it is no great wonder; since it seems to be almost an 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, containing (as Aben Ezra says) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and therefore of a very difficult connection; 
In Comment.  and since most Interpreters are singular upon this book. However, to show how unwilling I am to be thought guilty of perverting the sense of the holy Writings, I have annexed a Paraphrase and a few Notes, which together, by the Paratheses added to the Text in the former, and by the accounts of more material or controverted words in the latter, may serve to show, that my way of understanding this part of Ecclesiastes, which is the ground of the subsequent Poem, is neither very inconsistent nor unreasonable.  
To the last, That I take not any Rhimes, much less my own, to be worth either defending or excusing. For as I confess myself awkward at making them, so am I ignorant of their excellence, when they are made: and as they gave me more trouble, than all the rest, so have they done me that other mischief of cramping my Thoughts, and in great measure spoiling the Verse; though, as it luckily falls out, a naughty Verse is a less fault in satire than in any thing else. Had I been hardy enough like some others (which too late I wish) to have broken a barbarous custom, and freed myself from the troublesome and modern bondage of Rhyming (as Milton calls it) the Business, 
Pref. to Par. lost.  which now immediately follows, had been something better than it is.  
I reckon up these as the most obvious, not as the only Objections, that can be made; for I doubt not, but either affection to the World, which is here accused of Vanity, or disaffection to him, that represents the accusation, will soon find out more. But since it cannot be expected, that I should divine or speak particularly to them; in general, Reader, I beg your pardon, if I have obtruded any thing upon you offensive to your taste and better judgement. This I hope the rather to obtain, because as I was never troublesome to the World by my Poetry before, so in probability never shall be again.  W. W.  

THE DESIGN OF Part of the BOOK OF Ecclesiastes: OR, The Unreasonableness of Men's restless Contentions for the present Enjoyments, Represented.  

THE Words, Satyric Words, that once did flow 
The Inscription of the book of Ecclesiastes applied to this first part of it, ch. 1. v. 1.   
From th'uncorrupted Pen of Shelomoh,  
True Son of him, who first from some aged Beech,  
The Echo of the Bethlehem Groves did teach  
To answer, as he played his rural themes,  
The bleating Ewes [his care] or wanton Lambs;  
But soon (so did he ripen and aspire)  
O'regrew the Pipe to touch the nobler Lyre,  
Composed such lofty Odes and mighty Lays,  
As all the other Poets ne'er could raise,  
And merited a double Diadem,  
At once Prince both of Israel and them.  
For following him Koheleth learned to sing,  
Thus to decry, and yet charm every thing.   


The general Vanity of Worldly things propounded, ch. 1. v. 2.  UNHAPPY thought! How like a Bubble's all  
This frothy globe of World, this empty ball!  
For look how wide's the view of Heaven's eye,  
Or compass of its spangled tapestry;  
How wide the outmost superfice of Place,  
That coops us in Imaginary space:  
So large is VANITY's deceitful face.  
When Nature in her swadling-cloaths was laid,  
And God th' almighty Parent pleased surveyed,  
The newborn limbs his plastic Spirit had made,  
He then pronounced all good, 'tis true: but how?  
'Twas in the way, that we describe 'em now.  
To every thing some end does appertain  
(Not Vanity itself was made in vain:)  
That's good, which truly does this end attain.  
Good then the World may properly be said;  
Because it answers th'ends for which 'twas made.  
But if th' eternal Cause at first designed  
By vanity of things these ends to find;  
Then vanity and goodness may be joined.  
What, though the World a set of wonders is,  
In shape exact, and undefined in size,  
In which a thousand stamps and marks proclaim  
Th' Artificer's uncontroverted name;  
Tho 'tis with pleasing Landscape overspread;  
Tho 'tis with stately Lodgings furnished;  
though't does some, some good Company afford  
(For but a little does deserve that word);  
though't does delicious viands too supply,  
And every Sense has something to enjoy?  
For God with purposed kindness for our good  
'Mong all these pleasure's Vanity has strowed;  
Such circumstances, as their sweets allay,  
Or make their fading colours soon decay:  
Lest Cully Man should be provoked to love  
The things below, deserting those above.  

The restless Labours, with which Mankind nevertheless pursues them, ch. 1. v. 3.  WHAT latent cause and powerful deceit  
Makes him his Maker's caution then defeat,  
Crowding his life with troublesome affairs,  
More than his wants require, or duty bears?  
Whence comes his unaccountable expense  
Of spirits [the Ministers of life and sense,]  
Of strength, and days consumed with all the pains  
Desire exacts, or patience sustains?  
Nay more, why does he break his inward peace,  
And give his moving thoughts no truce for ease,  
Levying a Ho●t of projects what to do,  
Which way with speed his profit to pursue;  
While several Parties of divided cares  
Inflame his head with their intestine wars,  
Besiege the calmer regions of the brain,  
And fright the poor Inhabitant within,  
Where it on its Conation does reign?  
Here Mocher bustles in a thronged shop,  
That swallows all his hours to feed his hope;  
And pants, by business elbowed every way,  
Within the narrow limits of the day.  
There sails a Tyrian by some distant star,  
Bolder than fits of men in deep despair:  
Tho winds dissuade aloud, though gulfs do aim  
With their wide gaping mouths to do the same;  
Yet on he drives to gain his foreign shore,  
Lusting to ravish thence its secret store,  
It's very bowels modified in Oar.  
While Iccar keeps within his native sphere,  
Always at home, yet too a Traveller:  
For daily traping o'er his spacious fields  
He views their state, and what each of them yields;  
O'erlooks his flocks; o'erlooks his Men, that Blow,  
Or [his own emblem] corn and ●odder mow;  
While sweat, the curse, that vanquished all our Race,  
In pearly drops does triumph on his face.  
And when the Sun hath left mount Gilead,  
And sinking turns on us the Earth's broad shade;  
He late returns th' arrears of rest to take,  
Which with himself he ticked ere Morning broke.  
But oh that here the catalogue might close!  
For still worse ends men to themselves propose;  
And still worse roads to reach their goals they choose.  
Methinks I see the crafty Gilonite,  
Broke from the cords of duty and of right,  
Within his Study [forge of treasons] sit,  
And scratching prompt his head and stir his Wit,  
Seeking through policy and State essays  
Himself, though by his Master's fall, to raise.  
While Absalon (what pitied should be he!)  
The fairest Youth e'er blotted Family,  
A more compendious Rebel strives to be;  
Through David's and his Father's breast would boar  
A purple passage to the Sovereign power.  
The Arab there by robbery and stealth,  
Drudges to find a nearer cut to wealth;  
With danger makes the Traveller to stand,  
Rides hard all day, and lodges on the sand.  
Here subtler Parush archly does contrive,  
By whine and grave hypocrisy to thrive.  
And as the Bulls all o'er the Pastures rove  
To vent that excrement their lust does move;  
So Naar proles about, and wakes all night  
To serve the self same bestial appetite:  
Till with his life the bliss perhaps he buys,  
Or spilt at once in fight for the prize,  
Or slowly melted by a hot disease  
(A noble end! The Phoenix thus expires  
Near Heliopol, and boldly brood's on fires.)  
But Rehab-nephesh, in another chase  
And love engaged, for Honour's false embrace,  
Descends to woo the senseless populace;  
Or lists himself to all the feats of War,  
Fate's laborious Executioner.  
Here he in tedious marches spends the day;  
The night in watching hardly wears away;  
Or else the grizly images of Death  
In dreams disturb that little sleep he hath.  
And when the ruffled Colours angry meet,  
And hacking steel in clashes speaks a fight;  
When Death unmanacled does domineer,  
Howe'er things go, the greatest Conqueror;  
When Souls in scarlet vehicles do fly  
Up toward the Mansions of eternity,  
And with their numbers almost cloud the sky:  
The doughty Hero shows himself all brave,  
And struts upon the margin of the grave.  
Through hills of carcases and lakes of blood,  
He seeks his Mistress and admired Good;  
To lengthen whose dear life he welcomes death,  
And kind at last bequeathes her his own breath.  
These and a thousand thousand more such ways,  
We fool's our several Vanities do trace,  
And heavily life short allotment pass.  
For shadows we our solid good betray;  
While time, that ne'er looks backward, sherks away.  
For though one might expect, that all these throws  
And travel mighty births must needs produce;  
Yet from the labouring mountains comes a Mouse.  
For either they their wished for issue miss,  
Or else th'acquest but small, or transient is.  
TRANSIENT it is, cause man himself is so, 
The Unreasonableness of these Labours proved, I. From the shortness of Man's life, who cannot long enjoy the product of them, ch. 1. v. 4. to 8.   
Only a short Probationer below;  
And when his tryal's o'er, than he must go.  
Tho Ophir were by one alone possessed,  
Or Mammon all engrossed into his chest:  
Tho he the centre of delights might be  
Drawn in from all the World's periphery:  
Tho he had fitted out, and fledged his name  
With all the never-moulting plumes of fame:  
Tho all authority and power met  
To make him only, eminently great:  
Yet when he's pressed that unknown Cape to make  
Beyond the grave [a voyage all must take;]  
Then all these things, though with his toil obtained,  
He must put off upon the living Strand,  
And but a naked Ghost the Bark conscend;  
As naked as a virgin Soul does lie,  
Not dressed nor wedded to a Body yet,  
(They say) in some close room, which we forget,  
And darker chamber of Philosophy.  
If bulky Empire's bow to rigid fate,  
Grow up, decay, and die, and after that  
Their Giant limbs and State are lost: much less  
May we escape, that are their particles.  
Men a successive circling motion have:  
These come into the Seats, which others leave,  
When they in course or complaisance give way,  
Revolving back into their former clay:  
Thus Stars through heaven's mighty whirlpool roll,  
And follow one another round the Pole.  
The Sun i'th' morning brings us day and heat;  
And then the bashful sparks they soon retreat:  
Again he leaves us, and his death the night  
Becomes the resurrection of their light.  
Thus Winds perform their circuits through the air,  
Which them from point to point does onward bear;  
Till having wandered all the Compass o'er,  
They just return, where they set out before.  
Thus Waters from the great Abyss derive,  
Nor of its standard fullness it deprive.  
For though they slily steal away and creep  
To springs through Nature's hidden conduit-pipes;  
Not long they keep concealed, but must appear  
To pay their tribute to some Current near●  
Or tho invited by the courteous Sun  
To visit his superior region,  
They rise in breathing vapours, as they go  
Seeming to quit th'inferior kin below;  
Not long they stay sublime to revel there,  
And take their rambles o'er the Atmosphere:  
For overloaded it does quickly bend,  
And they thrown down in broken drops descend:  
The shower then to brooks or rivers falls,  
By soaking pores o'th'Earth or troughs of Vales.  
And these uniting streams draw down again  
To muster all their Forces in the Main.  

II From the unsatisfactoriness of those things, that are the objects of them, ch. 1. v. 8. to 12.  BUT grant a lasting attribute to man,  
Which yet he never had, nor ever can:  
Grant it were long, ere he did thus rebound  
Downward, reciprocating to the ground:  
Grant, he alive, his Grandson's Heir more scores  
Of years could count, than all the Patriarches hours:  
Nay, grant his life-time were indefinite,  
No death, nor any glimpse of death in sight  
With ghastly shape the mortal to affright:  
Yet still, even then, we hardly could descry  
The smallest pay of true felicity,  
Fit to reward the Gainer's industry.  
These present things for all that tawdry dress,  
With which our forward Senses they entice,  
Are but illusion, not realities.  
What ever smiling charms they seem to wear,  
At our approach the Phantoms disappear;  
And when we'd clasp the joy, there's nothing there.  
But then howe'er they otherwise may please,  
They cannot pair with thinking Substances.  
This World does in its narrow ring contain  
Nothing can fill the roomy Soul of Man.  
Can any objects fill the eye or ear?  
They but digest the entering light or air;  
And then for other objects they prepare.  
Material joys much less can fill the Mind:  
For still there's something, something still behind.  
And yet what is there more for us to try,  
Untried by avarice or luxury,  
Which often choosed provoke our just despair  
Of finding any thing, that's worth much care?  
For men have long observed and used all means,  
That showed themselves with any fair pretence;  
Balking no opportunity they met  
Pimping to their insatiate appetite:  
But still whatever methods they go through,  
No holding●satisfaction does accrue.  
Always unfixt from this to that they move  
By turns the matter of their hate and love.  
What they but now admired, again they flight,  
And so it sleeps in long oblivion's night.  

III From Solomon's own more general testimony concerning the things, that are pursued in them, ch. 1. v. 12. to ch. 2.  I WHO this pungent doctrine now propose  
So painful to our Mammonists and Beau's,  
And which but few think orthodox and sound  
(The Many seldom in the right are found),  
Like some defeated Lover, do not write  
To gratify revenge and please my spite,  
Calling the World and pleasure Vanity,  
Because they've been unkind and strange to me.  
No, I more of its favours have received,  
Than e'er, when I had leave to ask, I craved,  
Or Envy would hereafter have believed.  
Witness thou Sun, who often seest me shine  
With rays not much inferior to thine!  
Witness thou Porch of judgement, which dost hear  
The awful sentences I utter there!  
Witness ye massy Pillars that support  
The roof and thwarting cedars o'er that Court!  
Witness that Throne, which Elephants clubbed to make  
And couchant Lions bear upon their back!  
Witness ye Seed of Abraham, that stand  
Beneath the shadow of my sceptered hand!  
Witness thou India's Golden Chersonese,  
Whose mountains my repeated Fleets made less!  
Witness my Knowledge that best boon from God,  
Which more than all lifts me above the Crowd:  
My knowledge, more than through all ages past  
The Arabs or Chaldaeans have professed:  
Greater than that, which [wondrous too] did grace  
The four famed Poets of good Zerah's race:  
So great, astonished Princes from afar,  
Their Legates sent to pay their homage here,  
To th'intellectual Worlds great Emperor!  
And as no sullen mood or prejudice  
From disobliging usage does arise:  
So neither want of diligence to see,  
Or power to judge veils any thing from me.  
Nought I assert, but what I've fully known;  
I, who am grey in long experience grown.  
For being with wealth sufficient qualified,  
And with a piercing judgement filled beside  
[ere since in Giboon waked I saw methought  
A brighter morn within than that without,  
A light which through my closed eyelids came●  
When Truth rose on me in a midnight-dream]  
I set myself to search the Univ●rse,  
But first to see what censure that which nearest  
Does lie, this little portion of it, bearse  
And, after all, the entertainments here  
Are poor and thin, mere dieting on Air,  
Which wise Purveyors will not fetch too far.  
There's no expedient; no, no remedy:  
Crooked and strait shall in one thought agree  
Sooner than they cease to be Vanity.  
Amazed indeed and struck myself with this,  
A while I stood arrested with surprise.  
But when the melancholy bonds were broke,  
I thus within myself reflecting spoke.  
See, I am now advanced to great estate●  
Which was the white my aims all pointed at.  
Both riches, grandeur, pleasures, and renown,  
With their united lustre gild my Crown,  
Which proudly thus embellished does outshine  
The humble glories of old Heber's Line,  
And like a lamp shall light my name and me,  
Through all the dusky Ages yet to be.  
But yet what profit do I reap by this?  
Only a larger crop of Vanities.  
For all these blazes but beguile the eye;  
While underneath the dazzling shin● does lie  
A sooty crust of foul deformity.  
Knowledge, though best companion here indeed,  
Itself does something of vexation breed.  
To know brings with it an alloy of pain,  
Confused thoughts, a hot and aching brain,  
Many doubts to be resolved and knots untied,  
Many sly errors hard to be denied,  
Much curiousness scarce to be satisfied.  
Beside there's nauseous work, that does in●est  
A Scholar's life, and ever moves his breast.  
For Logic first and Rhetoric must teach  
Many useless rules for Reason and for Speech:  
And when that's o'er, still he's obliged to read  
The excrements of every loser Head;  
When motions of State shall squirt 'em out,  
Or needless Controversies set a foot.  
He must not always look for honest sense  
In books; but crambe's, lies, impertinence,  
No exercise of Parts, but patience.  
Thus Learning's sowered [too sweet for us, if not!]  
And poison's made of life's best antidote.  

IV IV. From Solomon's experience, and a closer examinaion, of some particulars, that are most admired and laboured for, ch. 2.  BUT hold, though Knowledge and the Fiary scenes  
Of Students watching in their lonesome dens,  
Some Worldling cries, have many real frights  
Immixed with their fantastical delights;  
Tho other better things than these there be,  
That bilk our wishes quite or in degree:  
Yet though your rule in many things be true,  
It has its many just exceptions too.  
For there are, which too generally you blame●  
Some things adapted to our carnal frame,  
That can an equal recompense bestow  
For all the pressing toils we undergo.  
Such are the pleasures, which our Bodies crave,  
The proper guerdon labouring Bodies have.  
For sure God did not Bodies just create  
To serve a Soul, a thought, we know not what.  
To what poor end was he at this expense  
Of making Objects fitted to our Sense,  
If we mayn't use the means to make them meet,  
And two such Friends as those must never greet?  
Why were we not all Soul, and sent to dwell  
With meager Spirits and Forms intangible?  
But hold again. This common plea I know;  
And have examined, whether it be so,  
Not only by a slight or general view,  
But by particular induction too,  
Expecting once to find as much as you.  
My first essay was Mirth and gay efforts  
Procured by jolly Company and sports. 
As, 1. Mirth, v. 1, 2.   
For this I saw all men are apt t' admire:  
This is the business of each well-spleened Quire.  
When they in friendly Feasts or Clubs combine;  
This is their first, this is their last design:  
Nor do they budge, or sneakingly retire,  
Till dying Laugh with fainting jaws expire.  
But would you learn more perfectly this trade  
Of Mirth, its cause, intrigues, and how 'tis made,  
From what was then observed and seen by me?  
A short Apprenticeship may make you free.  
First labour by discourse to win applause;  
And therefore rote it o'er at every house:  
'twill make you ready. But especially  
Take care among your Common Places be  
Of tuant stories a large treasury.  
Be they or true or false, the thing's all one,  
So they are stinged with some sharp jest or pun.  
A skilful touch o'th' Mimic too does well,  
If jaunting hands and writhe features tell  
Their share of all. And if complete you'd be,  
To these add confidence and drollery.  
(For as for News, what's done at Babylon,  
In Egypt, Persia, or here in Town,  
That's dry, and chiefly fits a Prophet's Son.)  
If these Arts fail, than you must ●all to Play  
To pass your time [and money both] away.  
Or 'twill be necessary complaisance,  
Among the Female kind, to sing, or dance.  
If sing; then choose a Song of Love does treat:  
For that a secret pleasure does beget.  
If dance; when Music vibrates on the strings,  
And general Tarantulism begins,  
Be sure you gently squeeze your Lady's hand,  
And tell her silent what she'll understand.  
'Tis ten to one but she returns a smile;  
And that's the happiness, for which you toil.  
These are the ways of Merriment; which tried,  
judgement was easy: Vanity! I cried.  
When th'awful Word hereafter ●●all demand,  
How well employed we such an hour did spend;  
'Twill be a acquaint response to say, I played  
A game or two at Bowls with neighbour Gad;  
Or heard our Isaac gibe or tell a tale;  
Or led up Madam Cos●i at a Ball.  
Beside there's something in this frolic strain  
Seems mad, or antic, to a thinking Man:  
To see Folks move, as if some Magic skill  
Would neither let 'em go, nor hold 'em still;  
Or valiant Knight of Israel's ancient blood,  
Poorly pursue a trundling piece of wood;  
Or some great Company on purpose met,  
As't were for business, in a circle sit,  
And please themselves, confusedly to declaim  
Of what's not true, or not belongs to them;  
Or else contend for mastery in droll,  
At which one wound Scold would beat 'em all.  
And what's the end? To laugh; and that's no more  
But one dull repetition o'er and o'er,  
In which there's no great matter to be seen:  
For as some laugh, just so do others grin.  
Suppose i'th' article of rising Mirth,  
A shade disrobed of prejudice and earth,  
Or Angel, in a suit of crystal gear  
Should come unseen, unheard, to see and hear  
The various tricks and many humours there.  
Mean while some deal their jests and ●ree discourse,  
And some propped Noddles are but Auditors.  
At last the intermitted laugh breaks out  
Much like that noise, when Pageants born about  
Provoke the ovant Mobile to shout.  
And then what odd, deformed, peculiar ways  
Men have to spoil the muscles of a Face!  
What motley peals, how dissonant and loud,  
Astonish all the wondering Neighbourhood!  
If passion e'er assaults a Spirit's breast,  
I dare divine this would disturb his rest,  
So different from the Music of the Blessed.  
He his Ethereal substance would contract,  
And shrugging thus within himself reflect.  
Sure life's a dream, in which imagined sight  
Does show these men wild Draughts of false delight,  
But not one glance of death; else they'd prepare  
For that new life, when they must wake elsewhere●  
Not waste this time, but use it, e'er't be gone;  
And catch the dropping sands, before they're run.  
Thus all in haste the tired Ghost would fly  
The loathed confines of Mortality,  
And bear deep signs of anger up on high.  

●. Wine, v. 3.  This pleasure answering not the vogueed had won,  
To th' Vine I made my application,  
Noting according to my first intent  
The true effects of this experiment.  
Oft I had heard the qualities of Wine  
Described in Dithyrambics as divine:  
Howed bears up men in soaring ecstasies,  
Winged with the vapours from their glasses rise:  
Makes Beggars rich, and Subjects great as Kings  
[Pleasing, though but imaginary things]:  
To trembling Cowards valour does impart,  
And like some Waters petrify the heart:  
Gives what more sparing Nature does deny,  
And others plod for, Art and Poetry  
(Poor Nature dares not always spend so high):  
No heats, no thoughts like those this liquid fire,  
In noble Breasts does kindle and inspire;  
Thoughts, that remain behind, when we are gone,  
And make us live to be for ever known●  
What is it, that the mighty Vine can't do?  
'Tis both the Tree of life and knowledge too.  
Thus filled with glozing hopes of something more,  
Than in that fiddling Mirth I found before;  
And fond deeming I had hit the joy,  
Which could reward Men's labours and employ;  
A remedy at least for all their grief,  
Wherewith to cure the malady of life;  
Much satisfaction sliding to my heart  
Doubled th' exulting pulses of that part,  
Which with a secret tickle rolled from thence,  
And hasted through the gratulating veins,  
(So was I moved) with their more rapid streams  
To tell the outworks and more distant limbs.  
I thirsted for a taste of that new bliss,  
The bare conceit of which could do all this.  
With speed I got those Liquors, that abroad  
Were celebrated most for choice and good.  
And Vineyards of my own beside I nursed,  
So rich, their breasts pressed did almost burst.  
Such were the clusters Baalhamon bred;  
And those adorned mount Carmel's fertile head:  
Mount Carmel, which with pride looks down upon  
The sober element of weak Kishon;  
Carmel, whose sides Bel's Prophets not so red  
Shall die, as have the Grapes, that for me bled.  
So with their racy juice I crowned my bowl,  
And in that bath I washed, I drowned my Soul.  
Not the scorched Mower all dissolved in sweat,  
And then drunk up with sucking Sun and heat,  
More greedily does snatch the welcome pot,  
His now transpired Spirits to recruit,  
When he from Gibeah's Meadows comes, than I  
Diving to find that Pearl, Felicity.  
How weak and credulous a thing is Man,  
Obnoxious to every small trepan,  
That seems to whisper pleasure in his ear,  
Tho not the least ingredient of't be there!  
For all the great Encomiums of Wine  
(Tho none I'm sure deserved 'em more than mine)  
Are only rants of Men in drunken fits,  
And empty visions of enchanted Wits;  
Which they themselves next morning must deny,  
When sleep unspells the charming fallacy,  
And clears the mists, that on their judgements lie:  
When the suggesting active Spirits flown,  
And all the fair Ideas dead and gone,  
Only the ashes of departed Sin,  
To be lamented o'er, remain within,  
And Thoughts, that stalk about them, though unseen.  
Briefly (for though my Post did not permit,  
That Fuddling or the base effects of it  
Should touch me, as they use [too oft] to do  
The meaner Members of some tippled Crew;  
Yet what I felt not, came within my view)  
Let them, who've seen the Pagan Priests outdone,  
Or raving Bedlams in a Summer Moon:  
Them, who have spewed, till Eyes with tears infused  
Wept as it were to find themselves abused:  
Them, who with frequent falls and nastiness  
Have reeled home loathsome Spectacles of vice:  
Them, whose light Pockets and dishonest scars  
Have of their fault been dear Remembrancers:  
Or them, whose tumid face and shooting head  
Have once confined 'em to a fulsome bed:  
Let them, experienced Persons, if they please,  
Or can, be Advocates for Drunkenness;  
Which for my part I must profess I hate  
More than recoiling stomach does its meat,  
Or eager Lovers an unthought defeat,  
Or oft-crowned Valour to be overcome,  
Or crowding Nature does a Vacuum.  

3. Magnificence and Wealth in Buildings, Gardens, Fountains and Pools, Servants, cattle, Money, and Music, v. 4. to ch: 3.  As when the Sun's enlarged from some thick Cloud,  
Which it before in sable plaights did shroud,  
He darts his radiant shafts the fiercer round,  
And with his glittering arms gilds all the ground:  
Just so when time my Reason did restore,  
Which grossest fogs of Wine had covered o'er,  
Methought it seemed more glorious to appear,  
With an effulgence far more bright and clear;  
'Cause 'twas more valuable than before,  
And more informed; and never on that score  
To be obscured and overclouded more.  
Thus I became more soberly inclined,  
Something more harmless, if I could, to find;  
Some innocenter Delicate for sense  
(For truest delights consist in innocence.)  
The likeliest thing, that did itself suggest,  
Was Buildings, such as might my fancy feast,  
And fitly entertain a royal Guest.  
Therefore lest clumsy work or long delay,  
Should palls or wear my appetite away,  
Of Servants larger numbers I employed,  
Than all the costly Kings on Earth beside.  
Have you observing seen th' industrious Bees  
Perform their constant round of Offices?  
Some straggle all the fields and gardens o'er,  
Plundering the wealth of every richer Flower:  
Others already filled with spoils abroad,  
Till their silk wings crack almost with the load,  
By wondrous skill the easiest journey choose,  
To reach their common home and Rendezvous:  
Others by Companies relieving these,  
March out to all the fragrant Provinces:  
Others are watchful Guards to drive away  
Their Dronish enemies and Bees of prey:  
While others pitch and curiously contrive,  
Their tents in hexagons spread through the hive.  
Thus now engaged and moved by our Command,  
Builders and Workmen swarmed about the land.  
Some indigested rude materials sought,  
Which others with Sidonian axes cut,  
Or with their Saws, or Plains, or Chisels wrought.  
Full thirty thousand, a List fit for war,  
Under the faithful Adonirams care,  
Beside good Hirams Forces joined to that,  
Did whole Libanian woods depopulate.  
And thrice as many to be added yet  
Such mighty Stones did from the Quarries get,  
As might be owned their Children without shame  
By those big-bellyed Mountains, whence they came;  
While other seven Myriads did convey  
The monstrous burdens home.  
Nor wanted Metals: For a numerous Fleet  
Brought hither these beyond all count or weight.  
At last all touched by Hurams dextrous tools,  
Or those at least that copied from his rules,  
Such Structures to their just completion brought,  
Not working Melancholy e'er framed a Plot  
More noble at th' expense of very thought.  
Their arduous ridges reared themselves so high  
o'er rooms of state and vast capacity,  
I'th' Sky they seemed to fix their proud abode,  
Where twinkling Vanes new Constellations showed.  
Now, Babel, cease to tell thy Walls; and cea●e,  
Memphis, to vaunt thy barbarous Miracles.  
Beside that Temple, which I first did raise  
For God's own Name and residence a place:  
Where every roof, and wall, and post, and door  
Was clad with bright Parvaim's purest Oar,  
And graved with curious figures, flowers, and trees,  
'Mong which thick flew Seraphic Images:  
Where two large Cherubs shaded with their wings  
The seat and archives of the King of Kings:  
Where broidered Tissue made the mystic fence:  
Where golden Altar breathed up frankincense:  
Where golden tables, golden vessels were  
(Gold was the only metal durst come there;  
And when it came, seemed too to blush for fear):  
Where, answering to this inward glorious side,  
Without stood molten Pillars, whose tall heads  
With nets, and chain-work wreaths were covered:  
Without the Holocausts our faults did bear  
Upon an Altar twenty cubits square  
(It need be strong, when such a weight is there):  
Without in brazen banks fresh waves did play;  
Fresh, though they were enclosed in a Sea:  
Without courts, porches, lodgings did abound,  
Which Parian walls in order compassed round.  
Beside all this.— And yet from this  
My other unnamed fabrics you may guests,  
What cost and skill required to finish them;  
Such as the towers of our jerusalem,  
Millo, Megiddo, Tadmor, Baalath,  
And many more the stumbling-stones of faith,  
So numerous and great: But chiefly those  
I founded for my own immediate use,  
My Palace, and my forest Summer-house.  
But feeble language labours more t' express,  
Than I did to effect, their sumptuousness.  
For marble there, there cedar, there gold shone,  
Confounding rays with paint, and precious stone,  
Whose lambent flames and everwaking light,  
Kindled that middle darkness of the Night,  
Which with its revolution checkers time  
In every other meaner place and climb.  
Nor was the matter only rare, but Art,  
Which God in hidden manner did impart  
To make me great by things as yet unknown,  
Prevented Ages late perfection.  
For many things I had carved with such care,  
Tho done of old, they seemed reacted there:  
And Worthies looked with such vivacity,  
As if, risen from the Dead, they came to see  
Themselves excelled, and to admire me:  
Me, whose own Statue too was there, so true,  
That puzzled, which was I, myself scarce known.  
With these I neither should omit, nor can,  
The House I made for my Egyptian,  
Beyond the Pyramids, that she had seen,  
Worthy my royal Bride and Israel's Queen.  
For state and softness tempered did conspire  
To give the work a character like her.  
And as a fit appendage to all this,  
Gardens I made, that equalled Paradise.  
Like it the chosen plat of peerless soil  
Was stored with all delights, was Eden all,  
With all the prime of Vegetables filled,  
That sweetly on their great Spectator smiled.  
No Serpent, no Forbidden fruit was there;  
But all was innocent as well as fair.  
The well-placed trees in decent order grew,  
With equal prospects every way quite through.  
Among them those, which Nature made to bear  
The Orange, Cherry, Apple, Plumb, or Pear,  
(Beside Pomegranates, Olives, Dates, and Nuts,  
And all our other kinds of Eastern fruits)  
Their several sorts of dangling pendants wore,  
Not at their ears, but proudly decked all o'er.  
And those she made with different intent  
Only for shelter and for ornament,  
That Sun, which gives them life, from us to fence,  
The Limbs, the Planetrees, or Idean Pines,  
Let down a spreading canopy of shade,  
Through which no prying ray could me invade.  
(So when some furious Father aims his power,  
Burning with wrath, at his inferior;  
His eldest, tallest Son does interpose,  
And kindly intercepts his Parent's blows)  
For in the walks, that underneath these lay,  
I oft deceived the hottest gleam of day:  
While all their leaves inspired with the wind,  
And trembling with the motion left behind,  
In rustling consorts joined: and as they played,  
Themselves danced to the Music which they made.  
At a due distance from this Guard of trees  
Grew tender flowers by their Families:  
The Sharon Rose, that kindly left its home  
For Court, where modest blushes rarer come;  
The Crown Imperial, fitter for the place,  
As both its name declare and stately grace;  
Tulips, and Lilies, rivals of my pride  
Blanched with the purest light; and scores beside:  
Which keeping each their proper area  
A regular Scene of colours did display;  
So many, that the Rainbow not more ways  
On mortal eyes reflects the Solar rays;  
Nor more variety of tincture dies  
The fringed curtains of the morning Skies,  
Not yet quite drawn to let the Racer rise.  
No Sense had reason to complain: For there  
They all had proper matter to admire.  
The Thyme, the jasmine, and the Tuberose,  
With aromatic odours summed my nose;  
And many more, that breathed their unseen spice  
And (which are truest) natural essences.  
And here too braided on the walls did grow  
Peaches and other trees, whose every bough  
So pleasant seemed and pressed beneath their weight,  
At once they begged and tempted me to eat.  
Nay, th' Understanding here might find repast,  
And Spirit exercise it's subtle taste,  
Seeing the natures of the flowers and trees,  
And all their several pretty qualities:  
How these by kindly heat conceived of seeds  
The Earth with her nutricious virtue feeds;  
Till grown too big to stay within her womb,  
By gentle force they strive to get more room:  
How then being born they more and more appear,  
And all the Winter's victory repair:  
How all the parts, with which they are supplied,  
Are into sundry figures modified  
By different bores of narrow passages  
And veins, through which they circulate and rise;  
Or else made in such shape, that they may pass  
Only the pores led to their proper place:  
How they toiled not their diet to prepare,  
But trusted Heaven to be their Caterer.  
What e'er he gave, content they died, or throve  
Instructing us our seasons to improve,  
And, as they did, to point at what's above.  
Pity, as I looked on, methought it was,  
Such beauty e'er should fade like common grass:  
Pity the envious wind should blow upon,  
Or ruffle this their peaceful region:  
Or any scorching Dog-star squint in there,  
Or Teveth hide the glory of the year.  
I therefore did what in my power lay,  
Desirous to reprieve 'em from decay;  
But chiefly Fountains raised, that in the heat  
With cordial water might them recreate,  
Which duly fell in artificial showers  
Upon th' adjacent beds and knots of flowers;  
Because from them some pleasure does accrue  
Almost peculiar to us Great ones too.  
And then remembering with delight I'd seen  
Rivers in even Meads divide the green,  
And as they flowed along between the banks,  
Indent their sinuous sides,  
I also caused clear Channels to be made,  
Through which the fluent Element conveyed  
Seemed in continued streams, like Time, to run,  
And with unheeded pace still slided on.  
Pools too I made to open their spacious eyes,  
Which, as they looked undazled at the Skies,  
Did in their crystal humour represent  
Another World, another Firmament.  
In them another Sun there seemed to dive  
Unquenched, and with the hostile Waters strive;  
And other Clouds there seemed to float like these  
Upon the bounds of the Antipodes.  
So like's this World to a deceit of sight,  
That with an empty show does seers cheat.  
Had I, poor helpless I, been left alone,  
Like Adam once just made, both all and one,  
My Eden to observe myself and dress;  
This had substracted from my happiness.  
I then in vain had cursed the stubborn Spade,  
And mourned the crooked furrows it had made  
Within the bending of my callous hand,  
Not so much Lord, as Servant of my land.  
But Providence, to which so much I owed,  
Which had such kindnesses on me bestowed,  
And seemed full as ambitious to give,  
As I its gifts was ready to receive,  
Broke not its golden thread of love off here,  
Which always compassed me and every where.  
Beside those Workmen and Artificers  
Th' accounts above imperfectly rehearse,  
Servants I had; some Officers, that knew  
In course what 'twas their duty bid 'em do;  
And some, that waited, till with bended knee  
They took the honour of commands from me;  
So many, 'twould be doubly vain to guests  
Blindly a number, that was numberless;  
Or dare those mighty multitudes report,  
That filled the Trains retaining to my Court.  
For me both Sexes emulously strove  
In work all day, and joined at night in love.  
Whole Families of Slaves were born to me:  
Their Souls were almost my propriety.  
Add here the warlike Cherethean Band,  
And Pelethites, the flower of all the Land,  
That round me Guards and Sentinels did stand.  
Add here those Governors dispersed about,  
Where I their several Borders did allot,  
That constantly maintained my dubious board's  
With what their fruitful Districts did afford.  
Add here my Princes too, whose names remain  
In those amazing Annals of our reign,  
Where faithful Nathan and the other Seers,  
Annex us to the Story of past years.  
And since the lower Class of Beasts was made  
For our use too, all sorts of these I had.  
What Dear my Chases, Purlieus, Parks did keep,  
Witness the herds o'er Bether's lawns do skip.  
Both Sheep and Goats my crowded folds did fill,  
Or hung upon the pitch of supine hills.  
And Droves, whole Droves of true Bashanic breed,  
That served my pleasure too as well as need,  
O'erspread, as they led out their several Clans,  
With sleek pied colours all the champain Plains.  
There Bulls and Oxen in their Majesty,  
Methought made up an awful Spectacle;  
Which I before those cruel sports prefer,  
When beasts in Cirques do one another tear.  
How gravely paced the pursy Beeus were wont,  
To shake the curls upon a surly front!  
Upon what rocky well-built sculls they bore  
Crescent-like Arms, with which their ●oes they gore!  
But when they mutual threats and anger spoke,  
What Thunder rend the air, what streams of smoke!  
But sure the Horse among all Sensitives,  
Most pleasure to his Tyrant Master gives.  
When in his tinsel furniture he's dressed,  
How proud he looks! He vaunts his haughty crest,  
And champs his bit, to show how he disdains  
The short confinement of the silly reins.  
And when he's loosed upon his utmost pace,  
He then as fleet as Thought devours the race.  
Again when drawn into the martial Field,  
He's fierce to fight and ignorant to yield.  
He snuffs, and smells the Battle from afar,  
And miserable throngs of impious War;  
joyful to hear the croaking Trumpets sound  
From a firm bank of adverse Shields rebound;  
Neither affected with his Rider's fear,  
Nor with the pushing point of Pike or Spear.  
He strongly paws and prances o'er the Dale,  
That parts the Armies, Death's small interval,  
Longing that while the opposite Troops to meet,  
And trample arms and banners under feet.  
That nothing of magnificence or state  
Might absent be (for I aimed but at that),  
With these I peopled Towns, the best that were  
In all Mizraim's Stables or elsewhere.  
But Money, that's the Master-nerve of all●  
For want of which the stoutest Empires fall:  
And Crowns are worth, if that don't hold 'em up,  
Barely their value in a Goldsmith's shop.  
For though our Subjects talk● yet surely more  
Our currant images than us adore.  
This is the Idol of the World below,  
To which all hearts in general do how,  
Which Satan-like defies its Maker too.  
This then, which is so highly magnified,  
Must have its due regard, at least be tried,  
To see what virtues heaps of riches hide.  
In Maps where Eziongeher's showed to be  
Upon the coral lips of the Red Sea,  
A Navy I rigged out, which sailing from that Bay.  
Upon the Deep's soft lap did cleave their way  
With diving keels to Ophir [now first known],  
Where many a clod's a good Estate alone.  
Hence they successful brought in full-fraught Pines,  
The ●illage got from whole impoverished Mines:  
So great, as they in triumph homeward rode,  
The yielding Plain bowed with the mighty load,  
And in an arch inversed on either side  
Raised up itself to look into their pride.  
Scanty Arithmetic could scarce contain  
Their sums of Gold in Numbers longest chain.  
To these were added all the choicest things,  
That make peculiar treasures unto Kings.  
For them I did not only fetch, but they  
Brought from all differing times and lengths of Day,  
Upon the Earth's broad face were well laid out,  
If every Present but one Proverb bought.  
But in particular I can't omit  
(Her faithful Love to me does merit it.  
The hardest heart, the arrantest flint that is,  
Admits such strong impressions as these)  
The bounty of the wise Sabean Queen,  
Which had itself a fair possession been:  
Beside those Stones, to me more precious fa●  
Than others are, because bestowed by her;  
Beside those Gums, born on her happy Sands,  
Perfumed too by her only sweeter hands  
(For sweeter they than freshest morns in May,  
Or quintessence of her Panchaia);  
Metal so radiant, none was e'er so fine,  
But that, which with her borrowed beams did shine,  
Worn by herself, when (doleful word!) she gave  
Her last kind visit, and so took her leave.  
But though this chink of Money seems to be  
To most the most delightful harmony:  
Methought it rather grated on my ears,  
And with discordant and untuneful jars,  
As 'twas turned o'er, awakened sleeping cares.  
To temper and abate this harshness then  
With so●ter sounds of Instrumentts and Men,  
Mu●ic desired to be admitted in;  
Music, that came adorned with mighty names,  
And kindred to celestial Anthems claims.  
This made our good jessides send his Prayers,  
In airs and gales of Music to the Spheres  
And Seats above; while all the listening Choir  
Struck with his Lyric numbers wished him there;  
There, where he was e'er this by sympathy:  
For Minds are joined, that in one thought agree.  
And true, though why force should in Measures lie  
Not scouting Reason plainly can descry,  
We know it does, and that great strength they have:  
Within ourselves their conquests we perceive.  
Therefore such voices I procured, as did  
Even Chenaniah's famous School exceed:  
Women, whose accents were more taking shrill,  
Than from the Poplars breathes the Philomela:  
And Men, whose Bases were so plump and deep,  
They might contend with largest Organ-pipe.  
And these their several parts so well did bear,  
They summoned all my Soul into my ear;  
I had no sense, no thought, but what was there.  
To such a pitch had time improved this skill,  
As 'twere against I came, my joys to fill.  
For first Men knew no Songs, no Tunes or Notes,  
But what were hit by chance in artless throats:  
But what those Chanters wildly did express,  
Art by degrees taught to adorn and dress.  
Nor stopped she soon: For not contented here,  
Nature's assistant only to appear,  
She further set herself t' invent and frame  
What Nature never did design nor aim;  
As crooked Cornets, Trumpets strait and long,  
That were all throat, and spoke without a tongue,  
The Cymbal, Viol., Lute, and royal Lyre,  
Organ, which is itself a kind of Choir,  
And many more, all which to name would be  
As hard as reckon Sound's variety.  
And with these too, the noblest ere were formed,  
My state was still increased, my passions charmed;  
While they, as if they kn●w the Audience,  
Addressed themselves in their best eloquence,  
In words so smooth, not Fame's own flatteries  
Were half so powerful or apt to please.  
Thus I was great: and sure if Happiness  
Could be attained by that, I had no less;  
Enthroned, where gaping Princes gazed at me,  
On top of Grandeur's highest pinnacle;  
Dissolved in pleasures flowing every way;  
Exhausting Ages triumphs every day;  
Wealthy and rich to that immense degree,  
That all the World feared a Monopoly:  
Poor Israel ne'er saw the like before,  
Amazed at this great novelty the more.  
Not Saul, though he were God's own Successor,  
Nor our famed Father e'er obtained one hour  
Like my whole life.  
They were in troubled Seas of warfare tossed,  
With poverty and adverse fortunes crossed:  
But I in Haltionian calm have reigned,  
And all the depths of peace and plenty drained.  
Thus lofty Pines among the bushes grow;  
Thus I looked down upon the World below,  
Upon puissant Thrones and Princes too;  
Greater than any King preceded me,  
Or those, that follow after, e'er shall be.  
Whatever greedy Appetite could crave,  
My tender heart consented still and gave;  
Till last reviewing all I'd undergone,  
I gladly saw the work, long work, was done.  
And this in troth the greatest pleasure was,  
This the chief meed of many tedious days.  
So when some Mathematic problem's solved,  
Clear of those doubts, in which it was involved;  
The Scholar smiles to see his Axioms lie  
In gradual method and dependency,  
And lead to some insipid verity.  
But then this truth (here lies the difference)  
Detected ushers many consequents,  
And small to great discoveries does tend:  
Whereas my labours in themselves did end.  
Pity the quiet joys of Privacy  
To men so unperceived and private be!  
With it more sound fruitions sometimes dwell  
Than with the glossy Crown of Israel:  
The solid trophies of a vanquished mind,  
In narrow wishes pleasures unconfined:  
A little well-built house, retired shade  
And walk, a cleanly spring by Nature made:  
A few staunch Friends, that seasonably resort,  
Without the clog and bustle of a Court:  
And to support the comfort of all that  
A moderate, independent, clear estate,  
From tempting want or superfluity,  
From Rich men's scorn, and Poor men's envy free.  
Whose fortune's blessed with this, more happy is  
Than I with all these huge magnific toys;  
Which having perfected, no good I know  
Resulting, but to say, 'Twas I did so;  
Or stare at what is done, which soon will cloy●  
And all Spectators do as well as I.  
But when a stricter scrutiny I made,  
And all my works with nearer eye surveyed,  
They scarce afforded me this tiny joy,  
And poor proportion of felicity:  
They rather seemed to own their vanity.  
For 'tis nought else but Vanity and Pride  
Makes men the bounds of decency exceed,  
Above what Nature and their Stations need.  
Beside (though fatal late experience  
Is th' only argument that will convince)  
How many chances hover over them,  
That giddy stand upon this steep extreme;  
If one of which should beat them from on high,  
They fall the deeper into misery?  
How many darts of malice must they shock,  
With which the fairest marks are soon struck?  
How manifold's their business and their care?  
Too sure more than their privileges are.  
True, I had Slaves to execute commands:  
But then this was but working with their hands.  
The plot and management of all was mine:  
From me came every action and design.  
And thus my Servants, they served me alone;  
But I was Servant to them every one.  
Power's but Slavery in another name:  
For bate that thin disguise, 'tis much the same.  
Therefore when every course of pleasure r●n,  
And all its little wagers often won,  
At last I turned and looking backward viewed  
That useful Wisdom, with which God endued  
Me setting out; I saw that never spends  
Itself on these, but on important ends:  
Wisdom, true highborn Wisdom, which outvies  
The folly, that with doting Worldlings is,  
As far as Day adult in fullgrown height  
Its funeral and mournful Pall of night.  
For as when Night has put out humane eyes,  
And Form and Colour in it buried lies;  
At every obvious rotten post men stay  
To fumble and inquire out their way,  
Embracing with an undiscerning arm  
What e'er is next, though't be to their own harm.  
So they, whose groping Understanding's blind,  
When ignorance folds up the mu●●led Mind,  
Lay hold on present things, and them they love,  
Not kenning what's more distant and above.  
But that choice blessing, Wisdom, is a ray  
Shot from the Father of eternal day;  
And they, whose humble Souls are cleared with this,  
From far see glimmerings of a greater bliss,  
And all the useless Pomps of Earth despise.  
They know Death comes, though with a tacit pace,  
And every part of Time, as it does pass,  
Is one step more to th' period of their race;  
Where they and Fools laid down together have  
Their final sleep in one cold Inn, the Grave.  
From this none can pretend immunity;  
But there all ashes undistinguished lie.  
Therefore they argue thus; Why am I wise?  
Why feel I in me reasoning faculties?  
Not for the sake of sensual Vanities.  
For every Fool has Sense as well as I,  
And may those objects of't as long enjoy,  
Since he as long may live, as late may die.  
But what I've done may make me live in Story,  
And give what Fools can't have, immortal glory.  
A poor reward! In ancient Authors read  
To be in dust and mould twice buried!  
To furnish themes for Boys, discourse for Fops,  
Paper for Bog, or lumber for the Shops!  
But granting this some happiness to be,  
Yet still more bad than good fill History.  
And History itself in little space  
Perhaps expires, and then it wants (alas!)  
Another History to tell it was.  
Or if some lucky Author chance to bear  
The teeth and rage of many an unborn year,  
(Suppose the last in all Time's Calendar);  
Yet through mistaking ignorance or spite,  
Few can or will interpret him aright,  
(For some can read as foul as most indite)  
Or if his meaning well expressed be known,  
As clear as plainest Demonstration;  
'Tis odds the Reader will not think it true:  
The Man writ as Historians use to do,  
To serve his, or some Faction's interest,  
Or over-credulous loyalty at best.  
Thus late Posterity know us no more,  
Or little more than we knew them before.  
Now all my Works appeared more and more vai●●  
And all my studied wonders turned to pain.  
Now I grew faint and weary of the light  
Offensive to my weak and tired sight,  
And sated with th'unsavoury breath I drew,  
When out, scarce worth the drawing in a new.  
I longed those better buildings to espy,  
Not made with hands, that rise beyond the Sky,  
Far off, above th'approach of Vanity.  
But here a thought returned. When I am dead,  
My Greatness in two yards of Coffin hid,  
Then, than the Ages coming after me,  
Some worse effects of what I've done may see:  
When some loof Unthrift, or close whining Heir,  
Shall drop into my workmanship and care,  
Not through the merit of his chosen worth,  
But labour of that womb, which brought him forth:  
When he shall swell with over-big conceit  
Of that estate, for which he never sweat;  
Shall feed his idle and inglorious ease,  
His brutal lust, or pining avarice  
With riches, that I foolishly made his;  
And so, when I am gone, shall bring me in  
An Accessary to the vilest sin.  
Indeed there are, whose honest prudent ways  
Deserve a Censurer's whole stock of praise,  
All whose advantages of wealth or power,  
Tend to achieve what they were given for.  
But in a line of Heirs 'twas never known●  
This character should suit with every one:  
That every Son should be a miracle  
As 'twere derived down ex traduce;  
Or by a new example, Wit and Sense,  
Should still run parallel with Inheritance.  
Compare the shoals of Fools and Debauchees,  
With those are truly virtuous and wise;  
You'll scarce find one of these for many a score:  
Nay, I'm afraid the disproportion's more.  
Can any think, that their Succession then  
Should be distinguished from the rest of men?  
If each third Century produce an Heir  
Neither debauched, nor fool, nor knave, 'tis fair,  
And more, all men considered, than their share.  
Thus men their buildings, treasures, lands dilate,  
And needless honours still accumulate,  
To make some undeserving things be great.  
What real profit then, what true delights,  
Reward their toilsome days and restless nights?  
More solid good I'm sure by much accrues  
From the free, comfortable, moderate use,  
Of what men's cares as moderate produce.  
But this a Virtue is, which God more rare  
Himself does wisely sprinkle here and there.  
The man, whom his Omniscience does try,  
And then bear witness to his piety;  
That happy man, that Favourite it is,  
That he enriches and adorns with this:  
When Votaries of worldly pleasure moil,  
And mortify themselves with work a while,  
On Earth to get a fancied Heaven at last,  
A Heaven that's never found or quickly passed;  
And Misers on the contrary proceed,  
Prompted by bottomless desire, not need,  
Nor even pleasure, still to heap up more,  
And by a monstrous Paradox the sto●e  
To think or fear less than it was before;  
Nay, though perhaps they've neither Brother, Son,  
Nor any Kin, to throw their bags upon,  
When they themselves are quite worn out and done.  
And so a servile life they undergo,  
Thiefs to themselves, Slaves to they know not who  
For when, like Asses, they have born the weight,  
But never understood the use of it,  
They leave it to the man, whom God thinks fit.  

* V. From the changeableness and uncertain revolution of Times and Seasons (some of which are here particularised); from whence it comes to pass, that Men are neither sure of obtaining what they desire, nor, of enjoying long what they obtain by their irregular labours, ch● 3. v. 1. to 16.  BUT if obdurate tempers don't believe  
The small content their Labours products give,  
Th' uncertainty of them they must: For this  
The whole Material system testifies.  
See, its Orbs move, and all things else in them;  
And every hour brings a peculiar Scheme.  
See, how the flitting Seasons, and each age  
Of things, stay but to measure out their stage,  
Down which [a prone descent] they headlong 〈◊〉,  
And yield their room to that, which next thrusts o●  
In short, Time's a continued flight of Nows,  
Where one succeeds still as the former goes;  
And which, as't flies, fans forward other things  
By the wide agitation of its wings,  
Bringing to them their turns to be and cease,  
As Nature works, or Providence decrees.  
And now Great Ghost, from whom good thoughts proceed  
By ways unknown as thou from the Godhead,  
Enlarge my narrow faculties, while they  
Collect some of this World's Phaenomena,  
And how they change their aspects every day.  
Say how both Life, and Gardens, Palaces,  
And Mirth, and Love, Prosperity, and Peace,  
Have proper times, in which they only can  
Give welcome answers to the suit of Man:  
And when they do, those times are quickly gone●  
And then again his work is all undone.  
That so his Labours either not succeed,  
Or shortly lose the Offspring, which they breed.  
As there's a time prefixed for man to come  
From Nature's silent shop of life, the Womb:  
A time, in which his tender body grows,  
And fits him for the business he shall choose●  
So there's an Ep●cha to follow that,  
From which another being he must date  
In that remoter World, where once penned in  
No Passenger ere yet returned again.  
Poor Man declares, when first he does appear,  
How short his Part is in this Theatre;  
Blushes, and with his yet unpractised breath●  
Whimpers the Tragic Prologue to his death.  
As there's a season calls to plant or sow;  
A space, in which the Vegetables do  
Cover the wrinkles of the Spade or Blow:  
So they too, leaving us, e'er long begin  
To die, or are plucked up, as well as Men.  
(For there's a time, when Violence or Chance,  
The horror of our mortal change enhance;  
When slower Nature hasty they prevent,  
And pluck us up with Sword or Accident:  
As well as one more merciful, when these  
Do rather fright than hurt the men they seize;  
When Death can't draw his sting, but civilly  
Just licks the trembling prey and passes by).  
There is a time, which ruins do deface  
With nodding Towers, crashing Palaces;  
When age has gnawed their cankered cramps, or war,  
Or hurricane the Piles does over-bear:  
As well as one that gives us leave to raise  
In them our present safety, future praise.  
As there's a time, when Trouble's pressures squeeze  
Grief's watery Symbols from men's briny eyes,  
Until the emptied glands deny supplies;  
When gloomy Heaven veils its countenance  
In pitchy mists, without the least kind glance;  
When faithless Friends no longer deign to know  
Their Mates obscured in night, or changed with woe;  
But darkness having swallowed up their Sun,  
They're left all melancholy, all alone  
To those fierce Spectres vex Affliction:  
So true, there is a revolution still,  
When Heaven does refresh 'em with a smile;  
When it returns and vigorously displays  
The long (oh long it seems!) eclipsed rays;  
With these dries off their cheeks the blubbering tears,  
With these dispels their many cares and fears:  
And then they laugh, and sing, and dance a while,  
Till some new cross the gaiety does spoil.  
Now precious Stones are fetched from far, & join  
To make us burly Princes proudly shine,  
Or some Court Lady, wanting helps, look fine.  
And now again by ignorance or vice  
They're thrown away like Stones of common price.  
Now free admittance to the rites of Love  
Lets Man his pleasure legally improve,  
And all that mingled Sexes does surprise  
Just entered in the Marriage mysteries.  
And now again Embraces are denied,  
And he or wants, or not enjoys a Bride:  
As when [at least] a competent Demain,  
Or in the lieu of that some honest Gain  
Is lacking to support a double life,  
And all the charges married with a Wife;  
When sickness does divide the Genial bed;  
Or age has quenched the fires of youth, and spread  
The ashes o'er the Old man's hoary head.  
Now there's a gracious turn and lucky hit  
(For 'tis no more; though folks misconstrue it  
For forecast, cunning management, or wit),  
When all things in a gush of fortune flow,  
And riches tumble in, men know not how:  
When whatsoever Rumb they chance to steer,  
The Ocean's smooth to them, the Heaven's clear.  
But then another time reverses this,  
Full of ill tidings, losses, miseries.  
For their gilt Vessel, though built strong and great,  
A stronger tempest often does beset:  
And then the sullied calm does disappear,  
And clouds contra●t the circle of the Air;  
The feathering Sea predicts a shipwreck nigh,  
And sporting Dolphins show themselves hard by;  
While on a sudden comes the envious blast,  
And muttering anger rives the lofty Mast:  
At last the Cargo lifted overboard,  
The surges cast ashore it's naked Lord.  
Now Mourning does invade, and clothes are rend,  
As'twere to give the sobbing tumour vent:  
When Death arrests Relation or Friend,  
And leaves us but imperfect men behind.  
Again we cast our jetty weeds, and all  
Remains are buried of a Funeral.  
And then new friendships we contract apace,  
And Wives and Children fill the empty space,  
Affording Death more opportunities,  
Still to repeat our sorrowful disguise.  
Tho our Creator has conferred on Man  
An art to speak as no more Livings can  
(For Beasts, dumb Linguists, by some ruder note,  
A general passion only cipher out:  
While men have words, or later made, or ours,  
Their thoughts articulate Ambassadors,  
Which their intentions to each other show,  
And carry all Expresses to and fro);  
Yet still he may not use it when he please,  
But other things command the tongue, that's his.  
Now must the nimble member breathless lie,  
And motionless, in inactivity,  
Not daring to interpret or reveal,  
What 'tis the Mind is doing in its cell:  
Althoed perhaps is weaving something there  
Better than all the Fustian it may hear.  
A few stiff forms with frontless pride set off  
Shall give the better Scholar a rebuff.  
Or some ill-willer watching for a word,  
Which he perfidious Villain would distort  
To some bad use, and to the Speaker's hurt,  
Restrains the tongue; while he sits fretting by  
For want of colour how to make a lie.  
Or else th' Authority some have or take,  
Permits the passive Subject not to speak:  
For though their reasonings, emptiness and froth,  
Would turn a Soul, that knows the gust of Truth;  
Yet peace be sure, there's no expedient,  
Only to bite your lips and be content,  
Unless you'll be so base to compliment.  
But now the Prisoner's bonds are loosed;  
And now speak you not only may, but must:  
Because unseasonable Silence is  
(Tho it may be your temper and your choice)  
Sometimes as faulty as ungoverned noise.  
For if I speaking my own good promote,  
I'm false to self, if I forbear to do't.  
Or if the Social laws require't of me,  
I'm forced to tune my tongue to Company.  
But thy praise chiefly shall my words rehearse,  
Who on the selvage of the Universe,  
Great God, dost sit; who fill'st the Land and Air,  
And all the race thy fruitful Word did bear;  
The whole Creation's everlasting theme,  
The Song of Saints and warbling Seraphim.  
Be pleased t' accept my meaner service here,  
Till in that Court and Consort I appear,  
Then these Poetic First-Fruits I'll throw down  
An humble Offering before thy throne,  
And spend the coming long Eternity  
In Heavenly Hymns, and riper Poetry.  
Even Love, which like some universal life  
Cements the World's more solid limbs so fast,  
That they in stable wedlock piece and last,  
And keeps the loser elements from strife,  
Itself can't always last, but has its fate,  
And sinks into the Grave of Friendship, Hate.  
Man's such a complicated humourist,  
Made up of passion, pleasure, interest,  
So different in kind or in degree,  
'Tis difficult to define Humanity.  
This makes the yoke unequally to press  
Friends necks, one drawing that way, t'other this.  
The knot, which interest and pleasure tied,  
Pleasure and interest again divide.  
Nay, they, whom equal Sympathy did bind,  
And Sex persuades still to continue kind,  
Turn Renegades to love, and change their mind.  
For Lust (if that alone the marriage knit  
Without some nobler thought to second it)  
Strangely its object fairest represents  
To them, that stand remotest off from thence:  
But if the distant prospect be pursued,  
It lessens, till it does the sight elude.  
And then the recreant Couple soon forget  
The Lovers once familiar Alphabet,  
The Cant of sighs and tears, of wounds and darts,  
The strength of vows, and interchange of hearts.  
The overgrown bodies of whole Polities,  
That stretch themselves o'er many Provinces,  
Are not exempted from such turns as these.  
Tho they their tumid parts with labour draw,  
Upon the gouty legs of State and Law:  
Yet in their mutual leagues they run, they fly,  
Through all the doublings of inconstancy.  
The men, that lately on their Frontiers met,  
And joyed each other civilly to greet,  
Distributed their wishes and their prayers,  
And cursed the very notion of Wars;  
While Peace her influence divides, and pours  
On both her blessings and her battening showers;  
The Vineyards flourish, and the Figtrees hit,  
While under them the Owners safely sit;  
The field its full return of harvest bears,  
Nor any ravaging destroyer fears;  
The flocks not killed nor driven by the Foe,  
In their full numbers to Beth-eked go;  
The thriving Arts and Sciences increase,  
And every School enjoys a learned ease;  
These in a pet abjure their happiness.  
Some petty cause has blowed the sleeping coal,  
Which now begins to burn without control;  
Ambition to be filled, a Mistress gained,  
Or needy General to be maintained.  
For this two infested Kingdoms must engage;  
And clangent Trumpets public ills presage,  
With their hoarse cadences and trembling note  
Soliciting for Soldiers rowed about.  
Men from their Callings and their business fly,  
Not pitying a helpless Family,  
Their childless Parents, their own little Brood,  
Or Wives that now commence their Widowhood.  
In Companies and Troops they march all day,  
Loaded with Arms and hopes of some small Pay.  
At night supped with a Snapsack's stint of bread,  
What lately was their board, becomes their bed;  
And when they rising their fatigue renew,  
They leave the measures of their graves in dew.  
Nay [worse than this] all bars are now broke down:  
No Law nor no Religion is known,  
But Irresistibility alone;  
No future life, no God, no sacred Word;  
But good and bad decided by the Sword.  
The sins, that used to dread a witness by,  
In darkness screened themselves from humane eye,  
And skulked to hide their own deformity,  
Now making open entries domineer,  
Not painted with the signs of shame or fear.  
Undauntedly men bid a long Adieu  
To all the Legends of the Priestly crew●  
No little nook or dark retreat is free  
From plunder, violence, and cruelty.  
What all their lives poor Labourers have done,  
In one sad hour is snatched away and gone,  
Nor footstep left of many a tedious Sun.  
War robs of all at once, nor even spares  
The last reserve of their declining years:  
Their dewy sweat now ends in showering tears.  
Virgins are raped, their Lovers looking on,  
And scarce survive to know they are undone.  
The Ploughman falls by some unheeded blow,  
His trembling fingers beckening to his Blow,  
To stay and see its parting Master go.  
His Nose (poor man!) makes furrows in that place,  
Where last the Coulter and the Share did graze.  
Babes from the breast are torn, nay from the womb,  
And Life in posse killed, a life to come.  
The mitred Priest before the Altar dies  
[The Sacrificer made a Sacrifice],  
Invoking Heaven with his dying cries.  
The strokes the while within the Chancel sound,  
And hideous Echoes from the Vault rebound.  
Should this jerusalem (as much I dread)  
Be by the impious Casdim conquered;  
Rubbish and mangled corpses must deface  
The beauteous mansions of this sacred place.  
The Temple, nor its holiest part would be  
A refuge from the common misery;  
Although it Heaven itself does typify.  
It's matchless gold, though by the weight it seem  
Loath to remove from thence; and every Gem,  
Tho dazzling too the Robbers eyes, must go  
To grace the Triumphs of a foreign Foe.  
The Vessels stained with Heathen healths and blood  
Must serve a Babylonish King or God.  
The Corban made for God's emerit Poor  
(For that's one reason of this hallowed store)  
Must pay a barbarous Host for making more.  
Nothing so precious or divine dwells there,  
Which daring Sacrilege would deign to spare;  
No, not the Records of their Saviour.  
But last, as 'twere to expiate this theft,  
'Twould make a Holocaust of all was left.  
These are those mighty Actions, whose praise  
Empties the Panegyrist's Common-place!  
But now what pen can suitably repeat  
The horror of two Armies, when they meet?  
When once the sad Alarm does signify  
To Death and them a doubtful battle nigh;  
The jaws of Hades and the Grave beneath  
Dilated send up steams of poisoned breath.  
The Country raised are gadding out to hear,  
What Omens tell whose overthrow is near.  
The Soldier stuned with sad surprising news  
Hardly his broken faculties can use.  
He catches at the arms, that next him lie;  
Or seeks the Sword that hangs upon his thigh.  
Concern and headlong tumult undermine  
The formal Military discipline.  
Thus they, who huff the gentle Sons of peace,  
Whose innocence their only armour is,  
Betray that prowess and redoubted might,  
Which swaggers when there is no Opposite,  
Or only such as ne'er pretend to fight.  
The Bravo now could wish the battle won;  
Tho all his unjust plunder too was gone.  
He dreads that righteous Plain, in which he sees  
Th'impendent vengeance of his wickedness,  
The strength of Poor men's tears and Widows cries  
And their once fruitless importunities.  
But now necessity does bid him rouse,  
And fear itself makes him courageous.  
'Tis this supports the honour of the Day,  
Teaching the flinching Soldiery to stay:  
'Tis this with force persuades 'em to come on;  
'Tis this brings up the formed Battalions.  
And now two Woods, whose metal trunks [compact  
In lines, that cross each other ●o exact,  
They make from any side transparent Glades]  
Cacuminate in Pikes;  
Two such great moving Woods divide the Field;  
Only a few kind turfs some respite yield.  
A thousand rambling Spirits possess that room,  
Expecting ever when their Fellows come.  
The fatal Angel hovers o'er each Host,  
Devoting those this Victory must cost.  
The tingling Pole with shouts and hallows rings;  
And flying Ensigns beat their flapping wings.  
Men fire their rage, and throw about their eyes,  
Which scatter sparks and angry particles.  
Here the bend arm exalts as massy blade,  
And tries its blows before the Onset made.  
There barbed darts ranged ready for the Fight  
Appear like naked teeth prepared to bite.  
To fence off these two walls of serred Shields  
Expose their boasted Charges and their Fields,  
Purchased by some forgotten Ancestor,  
Or't may be chance, or money, and no more,  
But soon with some rude pelt to be erased,  
Or with the Bearer overwhelmed and lost.  
For not these Orbs, though sevenfold, can bear  
The force and inundation of War;  
When once the Signal given has drawn the sluice  
To all the cataracts of death let loose:  
Death, that employs all hands, intends all nerves,  
Doubling life's motions;  
As 'twere their end the sooner to acquire,  
That in their utmost point they might expire.  
While he all o'er the field makes his Parade,  
In his triumphant gastliness arrayed.  
All wan, with hanging chin, and sinking eyes,  
Swift in a Mourning Chariot he hies  
About, his bearded weapon brandishing,  
Fitly resembling the old Serpent's sting.  
No Ethiopian reeds are half so keen,  
Nor mortal a whole Parthian Magazine.  
Round him lie naked sculls, and mouldering boness  
By which his Cannibal repast he owns.  
Behind he wears his Arms, A naked pair  
Eating the fruit, which they were bid forbear;  
An Adder by, that does himself sustain  
Upon his scaly folds and circled train.  
Round all a sullen haze is circumfused,  
Condensed of gasps, which dying lips produced.  
In this he slides insensibly along,  
Unseen to all the busied fight throng.  
Where e'er a wound gapes wide enough to bear  
The bigness of his shaft, he steeps it there.  
The present venom soon infects the whole,  
Moved by the blood, and chases thence the Soul;  
Which being turned out of its ruined house  
Straightway to reckon with its Landlord goes.  
Thus thousands have, and still more thousands must  
Leave strength and beauty prostrate in the dust:  
While others envy their felicity,  
From all their misery and pain set free;  
When they among the Carnage grovelling lie,  
Almost the pity of their Enemy,  
Sighing away their breath by slow degrees,  
And wishing every foot their brains might squeeze,  
Or some kind stab imprisoned life release.  
As when our Fathers left the slavish Kill  
And sable Tyrant of the banks of Nile;  
The Crimson Sea more kind than he was found,  
Transmitting all our Armies on the ground.  
But when the cursed Legions followed them,  
The billows soon returned, and closed the stream.  
Some floated then alone at distant space,  
Like Beauty-spots upon a ruddy face;  
But more in heaps might for a Mask be ta'en,  
Or smoky Island peering through the Main.  
Some with their armour plumb the Deep  
[As men go to their beds, before they sleep]:  
Some with the muddyed waves dispute their lot,  
Swimming with Horse or shipwrecked Chariot.  
Just so the cruddled gore sucks in or rolls  
Of separated Minds the mammocked spoits,  
A prey for Dogs, and quarry for the Fowls.  
They fall not single but born down by scores,  
While all the Welkin with the fragour roars;  
As when the conflict of two tilting Clouds  
The kindled air with thunderclaps explodes:  
Or so, as when the crashing shelves of snow  
Or flakes of ice from Ararat's high brow  
Do make the Valleys b●llow all belowt  
Whilst dread the quaking Stranger's fancy fills,  
Fearing the tumbling ruins of the hills.  
Victory this time her ruddled Scales does poise,  
Which with a doubtful beam by turns do rise,  
Till added moments fix down that or this.  
The shock of Battle then no more remains,  
Diffused all o'er the Mountains and the Plains.  
Which way the disarrayed Army takes,  
The murdering Victors follow at their backs;  
Who now more fierce than in Battalia  
Treble the numbers they before did slay:  
Beside the many Wretches, which in crowds  
Are thrust on precipices and on floods,  
Or forced to starve in avious brakes or woods,  
Or else compelled to yield, when they are ●a'n,  
Their caitiff necks to an insulting chain.  
The mighty sums of War, that sweeps more men,  
Than Sea or Pestilence, than Love or Wine!  
And after all this vast expense of blood,  
And many images of God destroyed;  
After Exchequers drained, and money fails,  
That might have built a thousand Hospitals;  
At length the shattered Regiments return  
Their wounds, their rags, their sins, their dead to mourn.  
For what is't now men forfeit their repose,  
When all the world is always changing thus?  
In such an Olio of things as this  
They, when they choose, themselves can hardly please.  
But when they once have fixed their rolling eyes,  
And say, in such a Dish their pleasure lies;  
There's the reward, for which they slave and strive,  
And 'tis for that they chiefly care to live:  
Yet they the proper Season for't must wait;  
And that perhaps ne'er comes, or else too late  
(For every Season bears not every thing,  
No more than Autumn fruits adorn the Spring).  
But if it does, it makes but little stay;  
Next Course of time served up takes it away.  
For if you point at pleasures, that require  
To be enjoyed by Youth or Age entire;  
That age is gone, ere you effect your thought,  
Or else more years soon after push it out.  
If those things take you, that suppose a Peace;  
Or War prevents, or close may follow these,  
And you of all your purposes disseise.  
But if you such a sanguine Creature are,  
To place your main delight in acts of War;  
Some milder Being keeps the Nations tied,  
Or makes 'em their contentions to remit,  
When Death has crammed your mouth with blood and loam,  
Or else returned again disabled home,  
Perhaps you've satisfied your longing mind,  
And left some fragments of your limbs behind.  
In short, if Pelf amassed, if Land, or House,  
Be th'end, to which your labours you dispose;  
Only some friendly opportunities  
Give the Adventurer so great a Prize,  
Without which nothing else but Blanks will rise.  
But grant you draw with skill, or hit by chance;  
Another chance may rob you of your gains;  
Or strike yourself, and render you unfit  
To taste the grateful relish of that hit;  
Or else, Relations dead, debauched, undone,  
Embitter Plenty by compassion;  
With many more Et caetera's of ills,  
The least of which all your enjoyments spills.  
Which having well considered, I adore  
The care of all the World's great Governor,  
Who so conducts his Government, that we  
Through force might to the true Asylum flee.  
For as the golden chain of Providence,  
That links together various events  
With various contrivance● forward tends  
To reach God's own inscrutinable ends:  
So does it guide Observers, that attend,  
Up to that Heaven, from whence it does descend.  
Here all things altering and unfaithful are;  
All methods dark and intricate appear●  
This raises our research to that degree,  
That from its soaring pinions we can see  
A World beyond this World's convexity;  
Where Happiness is ever sure and true,  
And fully proved, presenting to the view  
The books of Providence and Nature too;  
Those books, which so perplexing to us now  
There puny Saints unriddle and read through.  
To that most fortunate and blessed Clime  
Convoy me, Lord, in thy appointed time.  
And e'er that great advancement comes, do thou  
Kindly vouchsafe this Earnest ere I go●  
That I with prudence and content may pass  
The unknown tale of my remaining days,  
Not too much fretted with that Vanity,  
From which but few things in this world are free●  
And this my grateful Verse shall ever own  
Thy gift and thy beneficence alone.  
For well I am assured, that thy Decree  
Can never warp or be repealed for me●  
But still those Laws, which former Ages swayed,  
By this and those to come must be obeyed;  
Those Laws, which in th' ethereal Arches kept  
On Adamantine plates are graved;  
Which Nature and Mankind are governed by,  
The constant rules of their inconstancy.  
BUT as I turn the Pencil of my eye 
VI VI From the unequal administration of justice, by which Men are many times wrongfully disseized of what they get, and sometimes lose their lives beside, ch. 3. v. 16. to ch. 4.   
From Fate and Nature to Society,  
What terrifying stories does't portray  
Upon the table of the Retina!  
Men scrape up riches with disease and pain,  
Pleasures and honours hurry to attain;  
When some pretended Law or unjust Suit  
Recalls them all; it may be life to boot.  
And then [too late] they wish, they had bestowed  
Their time and strength on some more certain good.  
When Man began to multiply his race,  
And propagated life did still increase,  
The shooting bran●●es intermixed did twist,  
And so confounded humane interest.  
Each ●ought his own, even with another's wrong,  
though't were the aged Stock, from whence he sprung.  
Like hungry Tigers wrestling for their prey  
The stoutest bore the bloody pledge away.  
So cruel Man, so brutish did he seem,  
The Woods had lost their ●erity in him.  
Then God exerting favour to Mankind  
Them from themselves intended to defend  
(Lest they should fall, as Heathen Poets feign  
Of our Phenician Neighbours crop of men),  
Cleared up their reasons, taught'em to relent,  
And wisely to submit to Government;  
Where Liberty being circumscribed by rules,  
The Weak might live with Strong, with Knaves poor Fools.  
But yet both Ethnic Courts, and even thine,  
False Israel, pervert the great design:  
And what a hedge to justice Heaven meant,  
Is made a Blind to catch the innocent.  
justice! A reverend and awful sound,  
But the true substance no where to be found;  
A barren theme for mooting Colleges  
To laugh at, when their disputations cease.  
And if the Prophet's Schools themselves transgress  
Their own so celebrated principles;  
What may we think of Civil Sanhedrims,  
Where Lucre umpires quarrels, judges crimes?  
Trust but a Present to bespeak your Cause,  
T' engage the Old man's sight, and hide the Laws,  
The Nasi or the Abbethdin will bow,  
And promise to forswear himself for you.  
A Treat tacked to a plausible address,  
The interest of beloved Friend or Vice,  
A Great man's favour, that implicit Bribe,  
A State intrigue, or noisy Baalrib,  
(Beside what Spite, or Ignorance have done,  
Or Criticism, or Belial's perjured Sons)  
How many right Proprieters have cast?  
How many Names smote with a sudden blast?  
How many lives, which justice ought to save,  
Doomed to a Gibbet and ignoble Grave,  
Woose Souls under Heaven's Saphire altar lie,  
And now for vengeance to th' Almighty cry?  
No matter what or where your Trial is,  
Whether it be in Palestine or Greece:  
The Urn's a Lottery, and 'tis a Bet,  
Whether the Tau's or Theta's will exceed.  
Such are the Tenors, that men labour for,  
Which got expose them but to lose the more.  
Here turn, my Pen, to meditate upon  
A not impertinent Digression.  
Sure there's another Life: for else, if not,  
How vastly miserable is their lot,  
Who through unjust awards are damned to die,  
Or pine away in shame and poverty?  
Or how can God his Attributes acquit,  
Or show his Love and justice infinite  
And equal to that Might, (for so't must be,  
To make a balance in the Deity)  
Which first gave birth to Adam's family;  
Unless a future State shall equalise  
The differing inequalities of this;  
When the Messiah from the Clouds shall break  
The Sun of righteousness, and undertake  
To audit and adjust those vast Accounts,  
To which the reckoning of the World amounts?  
Mean time that such unreasonable Powers,  
Who judge with partiality and force,  
Might understand how near they are allied  
To Wolves and all the ravening Class beside!  
True, some things all men help to constitute  
Common to them and to the thoughtless Brute.  
Both draw the same aereal blasts, which blow  
The same dark flame within their veins does flow.  
Both to the Earth return, and both from thence  
Do their obscure originals commence.  
As some of Assurs Monarches may have sprung  
(When this is true, why should I hold my tongue?)  
From what was once but bare Plebeian dung;  
Although by Matter's restless circling on  
The Ordure rose from Close-stool to a Throne:  
So now where sleep the royal Careasses,  
The very Dogs lift up the leg and piss.  
Therefore what specifies the different kind,  
Makes Man no Beast, is his immortal Mind.  
The brutish Soul, but sensual, ne'er survives  
The breaking of that body, where it lives:  
But when the Hull's absorbed, in which it plies,  
It sinks, and true Companion with it dies.  
Not so the Soul of Man, whose better make  
Does longer life and nobler Kin bespeak:  
Whose Understanding with a piercing sight  
Looks through the World, and peeps at Infinite:  
Whose Will through no necessity does act,  
But all free its own desires does direct  
To this or that, or any newfound Tract.  
For thus it is distinguished from that Cell,  
Dull cell, in which it sojourns for a while:  
And when the doors are opened, to God it flies,  
And emulateth Angels in its rise.  
So Fire, when grosser parts with weight fall down,  
Scarce stops below the Concave of the Moon.  
But how can these unequal judges own  
This, though apparent, wide distinction,  
Who by their arbitrary carriage seem  
To think all judgement terminates in them?  
The Lion dies not thinking of his prey,  
Nor any account to come; just so do they.  
So like they make themselves to Savages;  
And while they would be more than Men, are less.  
Nay, they are fallen below the pitch of Beast,  
Who dare be such under that specious vest,  
The robe of God's authority impressed.  
AS when some weary Traveller has passed 
VII From that great Oppression practised in the world, by which men are often despoiled of their gains, and reduced to misery after all their labours, ch. 4. v. 1. to 4.   
The difficulties of a dismal Waste;  
And now expecting a more pleasant course,  
He finds his way degenerate to worse;  
Sees craggy rocks and mountains hang before,  
Or hears unbridled rivers fiercely roar,  
While hasty Night spreads from the Western shore.  
So after many tedious journeys made,  
Where men with others Lives and Fortune's trade,  
(Nor could my Rule correct what there was bad)  
I hoped some smother progress to have had.  
But all in vain; such griefs did me dismay,  
And damped the comfort of this next survey,  
Which to make better (as I use to do  
Sometimes) I went about incognito.  
I saw a sort of melancholy Folks,  
Lurking in covert holes or lonesome walks,  
Whose tattered coats and lowering countenance  
Showed them in some afflictive circumstance;  
So afraid of humane face or two-legged tread,  
They started, when the leaves but whispered.  
At length my method led me to a place,  
To which more privilege appendent was,  
Either by custom or by strength maintained,  
Where such as they a short Protection gained.  
Here one less coy asked me, What sly intent  
Brought me to trouble their retirement?  
No ill attempt upon you, I replied,  
But merely Curiosity's my guide,  
A large desire of knowing what is done  
'Mong all the gilded objects of the Sun,  
Which now for several years has tolled me on  
Through many a mournful observation,  
And prompts me further to request of you  
A true account of this confounding show.  
He then composed into a pleasing air,  
Which told what once his charms and graces were,  
Thus gave his words the wing:  
We once were Men, and free as others are  
To choose our conversation any where;  
When yet we had no urging cause to shun  
The barbarous Bailiff or the instant Dun.  
But as when Summer days and warmth decay,  
The Summer birds grow silent and give way;  
In airy troops they call their fellows forth  
Fearing the pointed Armies of the North,  
Then post themselves in rocks and hollow trees,  
Where they endure the Winter's siege and miss  
The ravage of their freezing enemies:  
So we, when troubles thickened in our Sphere,  
Thought it our wisest method to retire;  
Some to avoid th' inhuman Fiends, that hale  
Reluctant Captives to a noisome jail;  
Some to decline their clamorous Creditors,  
That still block up or batter at their doors●  
All this we undergo, and more than this,  
For little peccadilloes, or what's less,  
For none; even more than Rhetoric can express.  
The eloquence of Misery appears  
Most, when it speaks by silence and by tears.  
But is it lawful then, said I, to know  
To what first cause these grievances you owe?  
I done't, returned the Man, impute this ill  
To cruelty in God or in his Will.  
For when he made the aged Void to teem,  
And out of Nothing all these Somethings came;  
Lest clashing they should spoil their happiness,  
On them peculiar Laws he did impress,  
The lasting marks of their Creator's care,  
Which they enacted on their bosoms bear.  
To Man Reason's this Law, a certain Clue  
This Labyrinth of things to lead him through;  
Which lost or not observed, he quickly errs,  
And hurts himself or Fellow-Passengers.  
Hence springs our woe, oppressed by those are great●  
But void of Reason (too sure! we suffer by't).  
Here's one, though of no finer matter made,  
Nor better Pedigree traced to the head;  
Yet scorns his Brother, an ignoble Swain,  
And swells himself for being Gentleman.  
He thinks he rivals him, and perks too high;  
He'll teach him Manners and his Family:  
Tho Guards of Angels at that very time  
Perhaps may condescend to wait on him.  
Another has observed some petty slight;  
The Clown's Devoirs were not shaped out right.  
This mighty wrong the Courtier does resent,  
Sure to revenge the want of Compliment.  
The Tradesman thinks his profit is too small,  
If, others not suppressed, he gets not all.  
The Magistrate hates to be cramped with Laws,  
Or wear such Mittens on his greedy claws.  
Therefore (for few transcribe from Solomon)  
Pretending Public good, when 'tis his own,  
He taxes people out of all they have  
Their threatened Properties forsooth to save.  
But if that fails, yet he has other ways:  
A Plot's the Statesman's well-known Common-place●  
A Plot, of which the Father called knows least;  
But yet which seldom dies, if neatly dressed.  
For when't has tasted air, it lives and thrives,  
And deals in Mercenary Narratives:  
Till the poor Innocent in this surprise  
Is almost made a spotless Sacrifice:  
And though he escapes, 'tis with expense and late,  
Glad to be bantered out of his Estate.  
By such oppressive means as these undone  
We're forced to tick for bread, then forced to run:  
While others caught from some old Prison grate  
Are angling for their livings with a Hat;  
Or by a tedious Servitude the debt  
Work out, which this Oppression did beget,  
Their Family perhaps and tender Sons  
Sold too, inheriting their Father's wrongs.  
But what torments us more than being undone,  
Is (oh!) our ruined reputation,  
That heap of scandals and pretended lies,  
Which the Oppressor's chiefest engine is,  
And top of all our weighty miseries.  
But there's no help: For strength & power are there,  
While to our shrieks and plaints men deafer are  
Than raging Sea to swearing Mariner.  
Such is the end of all our mighty pains;  
This all, that of our labours now remains!  
He ended here, and made me praise the dead  
From all their potent Circumventors freed.  
But happier they, who never were, to live  
And see these evils, which us Being's grief,  
But can't affect their quiet Negative.  
If when so many Arguments conspire 
VIII From that Envy, which [in the last place] most surely attends men's successful labours, and those effects of them, which are least obnoxious to the forementioned vanities and dangers, ch. 4. v. 4, 5, 6.   
To moderate Men's labours and desire,  
There's any need of one more in the rear:  
Suppose you're prosperous, and have that luck  
T'evade th' Oppressor's gripe, and Tyrant's stroke;  
Yet what another Monster you provoke?  
The Envious man; than whom no Feature worse  
Sin e'er brought forth, or Satan took to nurse.  
If but a word drops in another's praise,  
What stupifying vapours does it raise  
In him? But if he sees his Flock increase,  
Free from the Pastor's fear, Wolves and Disease:  
Or sees the evening breeze slide o'er his grain,  
And make dry waves upon the bearded plain;  
While well-filled ears, their gratitude to show,  
Before the Fanner of the Country bow:  
This jars upon his Soul, which in a fit  
Draws in itself, and shivers at the sight.  
As when some hated Object strikes the eye,  
And entering works by strong Antipathy,  
The writhe fibres all the Stomach strain,  
And every cell conceives a qualmy pain:  
So is he moved. His Countenance grows glum,  
Or else with quick returns does go and come.  
His eyes look glazed and narrow all the while,  
Seeming important mischief to foretell.  
The Hag, that has drunk poison at a pap,  
And dandled many an Imp upon her lap,  
Can't look more venomed malice into those,  
That she bewitches, than his lids disclose.  
And though the listless Lubber yawning stands  
Within his bosom folding up his hands,  
Nor stirs his present blessings to improve,  
But pines because more fall not from above;  
As if ill-nature were the proper means  
Appointed to derive us gifts from thence,  
And make us Darlings of God's Providence:  
Yet to fulfil his rancour and his spite  
His mind is brisk, his heavy limbs are light.  
He plots to pull that jutting fortune down,  
Which hangs above the level of his own.  
So vicious is his nature, that if God  
In golden showers should descend to load  
And stud with lightning Ingots all his grounds,  
Comprising Havilah within their Mounds;  
Beside conferring pleasures and renown  
Answerable to that other mighty boon:  
Yet still he'd envy Monarches and their Power,  
And be no more contented than before.  
And were he so advanced, and set alone  
A formal thing upon a lofty throne,  
Put into cumbering furs and useless gems,  
Wrapped up in purple, pressed with diadems,  
Gazed at, like Comets in the Country Towns,  
When all the Greene's are filled with whispering Clowns●  
Yet still he'd envy on, and if he has  
Sense to conceive Superior Essences,  
He'd envy those Angelic hosts above,  
That now on Heaven's glassy champain move.  
And could he but be changed to one of them,  
And yet the canker of his mortal frame  
With that ethereal nature be the same;  
He'd scorn Creation and its upstart brood  
To envy what's eternal, even God.  
He'd envy that tremendous Shechinah,  
Which no pretending mortal can display;  
That glorious Throne of purest Diamond,  
Which glomerated Clouds and Fires surround;  
That Canopy, that covers it, of rays  
And Rainbows interweaved a thousand ways;  
Those fulgid Ministers of Heaven's Court,  
That to th'Almighty's service do resort;  
Those warlike millions of winged Bands  
Drawn up, where Michael's flaming Banner stands;  
Those Trumpets, and those Songs, that celebrate  
The Triumphs of their King and all his State.  
In short, how e'er preferred, his Envy yet,  
The eyesore only changed, would be as great.  
Far better is that Cottager's poor case,  
Who from his smothering Hive thrusts out his face  
Through some kind cranny, which his walls afford  
Made of the same frail matter with their Lord,  
To ease and cleanse his lungs, with sweeter air,  
Of that collected smoke they sucked in there,  
And spies six dappled Steeds of some great Peer  
Scarce governed by the brawny Charioteer;  
Views the proud Chariot drawn in State about,  
Proud of its gaudy ornaments without,  
But prouder of those glistering Sparks within,  
Which there, like Stars, through Glasses must be seen;  
Marks the per● Footmen hanging on the Rails,  
And all the waiting, cringing Animals;  
And then can pull his head into his clay,  
Nor grudge at all the Pomp, that passed that way.  
So void of reason, void of happiness  
Is Envy, the old Snake's especial Vice.  
And yet 'tis propagated every where;  
No Country from the ugly Spawn is clear.  
From th' utmost Southern point our Fleet descried  
To Tyre's last Colony o'th' other side,  
Where e'er you choose your dwelling, more or les●  
It will attend your fortune and success.  
Your squinting Neighbours they'll be strange & shie●  
And then pretend forsooth, that you are high.  
If e'er they can, they'll lessen your Estate,  
Your pleasure's quash, your worth depreciate.  
The last ne'er fails: for certainly your Name  
For uncommitted crimes must bear the blame.  
Some odious pranks are whispered up and down,  
For which you're often tried by every one  
O'th' Gossipping and drinking Gangs in town.  
These mischiefs do prosperity attend;  
And thus at best Men's worldly labours end.  
Hence therefore may I neither be remiss,  
To lo●e my life in lounging idleness;  
Nor lay out all my time, my strength, and care,  
Merely for what's but vanity and air:  
But may the ends that I propound, be good,  
By Heaven commanded, or at least allowed,  
And with a fitting industry pursued.  
For then though Worldly ills should obviate,  
Or overtake me here; not stirred for that,  
With comfort I may wait the Setting Sun  
And surer wages of my Days-work done●    

A PARAPHRASE ON Part of the BOOK OF Ecclesiastes, Expressing the Sense of it, and how it is the Ground of the foregoing POEM. With some few NOTES.  

CHAP. I.  
1. THE [1 Satyrical] Words of ² Koheleth [or ² Solomon], the Son [3 and true Successor in Poetry] of [4 that] David, [who was] ⁴ King in jerusalem.  
2. O ⁵ vanity of vanities! (saith Koheleth) O ⁵ vanity of vanities! All [that this World contains] is [but] ⁵ vanity [5 lying and deceitful, making great promises of true Happiness, but in reality being ⁵ empty and fleeting as a vapour.]  
3. What ⁶ profit [then] hath Man of all his [7 eager, ⁷ boundless] ⁷ labour, ⁷ which he taketh ● merely for these present things] under the Sun [without any great regard to those of the future World]?  
4. [For, in the first place, he is not capable of enjoying long these fruits of his labours; since still in course] one Generation ⁸ returns [to the Earth], and another cometh [into their room]; [nay,] and the Earth [it self] abides [but] for a [certain, tho] ⁹ unknown time.  
5. [And least Mankind should forget this return to the ground, from whence they originally came, the like return to the place of setting out is exemplified and to be seen in other things.] The Sun also ariseth, and the Sun goeth down, and hasteth to the place where he arose.  
6. The 10 Wind [too] 10 goeth toward the South, and turneth about unto the North: it whirleth about continually, and the Wind returneth again according to its circuits.  
7. [And so again] all the Rivers run into the Sea, [and] yet the Sea is not full: [for it refunds them, either through subterraneous veins and springs, or by the mediation of vapours and clouds, to channels again. And thus] unto the place from whence the Rivers come, thither they return again.  
8. [But granting Man were longer-lived, than indeed he is; yet still, in the second place, there is but little Satisfaction to be had from those worldly enjoyments he so much contends for. For] all things are full of 11 labour[ing and 11 weakness, and altogether 11 unable to perform those promises of felicity, which they make him. This is so true, that] manasses cannot utter [or sufficiently express] it: the Eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the Ear filled with hearing, [nor can any of our other Faculties acquiesce in what they meet with here as fully adequate to their desires and capacity.]  
9 [This is the more evident, because there scarce remains any thing more to be tried in hopes of Satisfaction, than what the World hath had experience of already.] The thing that hath been, is [the same with] that which shall be: and that which is done, is [as much as] that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the Sun.  
10. [If any man questions this, let him think, whether he can find any considerable instance to the contrary.] Is there any thing, whereof it may be said, see, this is new? [No: whatever enjoyment is mentioned, material to our Satisfaction,] it hath been already of old time, which was before us.  
11. [Indeed because Mankind hath hitherto been disappointed in all the experiments made; therefore they are in great measure apt to be forgotten again, and] there is [little or] no remembrance of [those] former things; neither [for the same reason] shall there be any remembrance of [many] things that are to come, with those that shall come after [them. But then this is no argument, that they never were: it only proves, (as I said) that men were disappointed upon their trial of them, and found nothing that merited a Testimony to be left upon record].  
12. [12 Thirdly, What I say upon this Subject deserves the more credit, because] I Koheleth was [that] King over Israel in jerusalem [s● justly famed for Greatness and Knowledge, conferred by the Divine bounty in an extraordinary manner upon me, above all Mankind].  
13. [Nor had I these advantages of knowing the truth of this matter only; but I added industry and observation also,] and I gave my heart to seek and search out by [my] knowledge concerning all things, that are done under Heaven ([for] this sore travel hath God given to the Sons of Man, to be 1● exercised [or 13 humbled] with it, [viz. that they cannot know things by intuition, as purer Being's do, but must find them out, the best of them all, by indagation and study]).  
14. [And now] I have seen [and considered] all the works [of men] that are done [and terminate in things] under the Sun; [my judgement is against them,] and [I must say] behold all is Vanity and 14 vexation of Spirit.  
15. [There's no help in this case: for] that which is oblique, [and leads us beside the ends, that we aim at,] cannot be rectified: and that which is defective [in those ends, which we do obtain, is so much, that it] cannot be numbered.  
16. [I confess, at first I was something surprised at this myself, and] I communed with mine own heart, saying, Lo, I am come to great estate, and [that it might sit the more usefully and becomingly upon me] have gotten more Knowledge than all they that have been before me in jerusalem: yea, my heart hath had great experience in Understanding and Knowledge.  
17. [For improvement in this hath been in great measure my business, ever since God upon my petition qualified me with judgement and other faculties capable of it;] and I gave my heart to understand [what is properly called] Knowledge, [nay,] and to know [all that too, which usurps the same name, but is in truth rather] Madness and Folly. [And now is all this nothing? But here, alas,] I perceived, that [not only] this [unnecessary Greatness (though I had Understanding to govern it and make the best of it) was Vanity; but even that Knowledge itself] also is [tinctured with it, and often begets] vexation of Spirit.  
18. For in much ●● Knowledge is much disturbance of mind [not only at the vulgar follies of Mankind, but even at the nauseous formalities and false reasonings of those, that pretend to advance Learning]: and he that increaseth Knowledge, increaseth [a] sorrow [- full prospect].   

CHAP. II.  
1. [Fourthly, Lest those that have fixed their thoughts upon the enjoyments of this life, should not be content with so general a Testimony, I made a particular scrutiny into the principal of them. And first I made experiment of that kind of enjoyment, which consists in jollity:] I said in my heart, Go to now, I will prove thee with Mirth; therefore enjoy what is ⁶ proper [to that end]. And [when I had done so,] behold, this also was Vanity.  
2. I said of Laughter [and the ludicrous way of creating it, jesting, dancing, sporting, etc.] It is [but a transcript of the wry faces, freakish talk, and antic gesticulations of] mad [folk's]: and of Mirth, What [great matter] doth it [tend to? What enchantment is it, that makes men throw away their time and opportunities of better things upon such extravagance]?  
3. [Then, being thus disappointed of true happiness here,] I sought in mine heart to give myself unto 27 Wine, [and 27 drunkenness, so much in fashion], (18 and my heart led me according to [its] knowledge [and sagacity the most advantageous way to it,]) and to lay hold on folly [(for so I must now call it)], till I might see whether this was that Good for the Sons of Men, which they should do under the Heaven all the days of their life. [But here I met with a much greater disappointment still; instead of pleasure misery, so great and confounding, that I hate to think or say any more of it, but withal so visible, that I need not.].  
4. [Therefore in the next place, to mention but one particular more, but that of a large extent and much juster pretensions to Happiness, I made ● large trial of Magnificence, and State, and Riches, etc. For] I made me great Works: I builded me Houses: I planted me Vineyards, [which indeed I ought to have mentioned before; because they supplied me in the experiment of Wine]:  
5. I made me Gardens and Orchards; and I planted trees in them of all kind of fruits:  
6. I made me Pools [and other conveniences] of water, to [better my prospect, and increase my state, as well as to] water therewith the Wood, that bringeth forth trees, [and the Flowers, etc.]:  
7. I got me Servants and Maidens, and had Servants born in my house● also I had great possessions of great and small cattle, above all that were in jerusalem before me:  
8. I gathered me also Silver and Gold, and the peculiar treasure of Kings and of the Provinces● I got me Men-singers, and Women-singers, and the delights of the Sons of Men, as 19 Musical Instruments, and that of all sorts.  
9 So I was great, and increased more than all that were before me in jerusalem ([for beside other advantages, which I had above them, I had this] also, [that] my Knowledge 20 assisted me):  
10. And whatsoever mine eyes desired I kept not ●tom them; I withheld not mine heart from any joy. [At last I had some pleasure indeed to see all my projects effected:] for my heart rejoiced in [the finishing of] all my labour, [as is usual for men to do in the most useless, insipid things]: but this [alas] was my portion [the poor reward] of all my labour.  
11. Then [I began to consider further, and] I looked on all the Works, that my hands had wrought; and on all the labour, that I had laboured to do: and behold all was Vanity and vexation of Spirit [bringing cares upon me, and exposing me to envy and danger]; and there was no [true] profit under the Sun [in these superfluous in●tances of Greatness, the mere effects of pride, or luxury, or curiosity at best].  
12. And [moreover when] I turned myself to behold Wisdom [and useful Knowledge], and [to compare it with the] Madness and Folly [of the World] (for [who can do this better than I? Or] what can the man do that cometh after the King? [Nothing, but] that which hath been already done):  
13. Then I saw [quickly] that Wisdom excelleth Folly, as far as Light excelleth Darkness.  
14. [For] the Wise man's eyes are in his head, [he sees before him into the distant future State, and accordingly propounds such ends, as are conducive to his happiness in it;] but the Fool [and only he] walketh in darkness, [and as it were groping out his way lays hold of these things, that are next him. This is the true difference between them; for as to other things, and particularly their death, their circumstances are much the same;] and I myself perceived, that one event happeneth to them all.  
15. And [therefore with good reason] I [put this Question to myself, and] said in my heart, As it happeneth to the Fool, so it happeneth even to me; and why was I then more wise? [It cannot be upon the score of these present objects of Sense, which the Fool is capable of enjoying as long as I. So that] then I [concluded and] said [again] in my heart, That this [violent pursuit after Wealth and Pleasure] is even Vanity, [and either the effect of Foolishness, or an abuse of Knowledge, which is given for greater purposes].  
16. [If it be said, that these great Works, which I have made, and that Grandeur I have brought myself to, will immortalize my Name in History, and make me famous for Wisdom and Contrivance, and by that sufficiently recompense me for all my pains and care; upon examination I fear it will be found otherwise.] For there is no remembrance of the Wise [propagated] 21 to [future] unknown age's more than of the Fool; seeing that which now is, in the days to come shall be forgotten; [either for want, or by the death, or through the unfaithfulness of History:] and [therefore now] how dieth the wise man? as the Fool: [he hath no pre-eminence over him in this neither.]  
17. Therefore I [even] hated life, because the work that is wrought under the Sun, is grievous unto me: for all is Vanity and vexation of Spirit.  
18. Yea, [for a greater reason still] I hated all my labour, which I had taken under the Sun; because I should leave it unto the man, that shall be after me.  
19 And who knoweth, whether he shall be a wise man or a fool? [A fool most probably; since the number of such exceeds the contrary. However in a succession of Heirs it must pass through the hands of many. Therefore whether my circumstances and the Fool's, as to the forementioned instances of present Sense and future Name be different, or no;] yet shall he [succeed me and] have rule over all my labour, wherein I have laboured, and wherein I have showed myself wise [in respect of things] under the Sun, This is also [a] Vanity, [which affects these products of worldly labours].  
20. Therefore I went about to cause my heart to despair of all the labour, which I took under the Sun.  
21. For there is a man, whose labour is [done] with understanding, and knowledge, and 22 success; yet to a man, that hath not laboured therein, shall he leave it for his portion. This [I say] also is vanity and a great evil [indeed].  
22. [But it is the greater, because there is nothing to balance all these evils and disappointments.] For what hath Man of all his [excessive] labour, and of the vexation of his heart, wherein he hath laboured [for a fancied Felicity] under the Sun?  
23. [Instead of acquiring any great matters, he loseth that good, which he might enjoy here:] for all his days are sorrows, and his business grief; yea, his heart taketh not rest in the night. This is even [a double] vanity.  
24. 23 Is it not [more] convenient for a man, that he should [moderately] eat and drink, and that he should make his Soul enjoy [some] good, [so much as is truly so,] in his [regular and reasonable] labour? [But] this also I [considered, and] saw, that it was from the hand of God.  
25. For who can eat, or who can hasten hereunto 24 without him?  
26. For [it is] he giveth to a man that is good in his sight, [true] wisdom, and knowledge, and joy: but to the sinner he giveth travel, to gather, and to heap up, that he may give to him that is good before God. [In short] this [whole experiment] is also [(for I must repeat it)] Vanity and vexation of Spirit.   

CHAP. III.  
1. [A fifth argument against men's toiling so intensely for the things of this world is the uncertainty of them. For] to every thing there is [but] a 25 Season, and [but] a 26 time to every purpose under the Heaven, [wherein they can be either obtained, or kept. So that men either get nothing by such labours, or but that which is liable to be taken away again in a little space].  
2. [For which way ever we turn our eyes, the revolution of contrary Seasons is visible. There is] a time to be born, and [soon after] a [nother] time to die: a time to plant, and a [nother] time to pluck up that which is planted:  
3. A time for killing [and mortality], and [not always] a time for ●ealing [the wounds of Sword or Accident]: a time to break down, and [not always] a time to build up:  
4. A time to weep, and [not always] a time to laugh; [or (which is the same)] a time to mourn [under the sense of affliction], and [not always] a time to dance:  
5. A time [for foolish or vicious folks] to throw away 27 precious stones, and [not always] a time to gather [these] stones together: a time to embrace, and a [nother] time to refrain from embracing:  
6. A time to get, and a [nother] time to lose [again]; [and so] a time [much of the same nature] to keep, and a [nother] time [when men are forced] to cast away, [and part with what they have]:  
7. A time to 28 rend [clothes for the death of Relations or Friends], and a [nother] time to sew [them up, till some fresh occasion tears the seam again]: a time to keep silence, and [not always] a time to speak, [however your industry or your judgement have qualified you for it].  
8. A time to love, and a [nother] time to hate: a time of war, and [not always] a time of peace.  
9 What profit [then, at lest what lasting profit] hath he that worketh, in that wherein he laboureth?  
10. [For] I have seen the travel, which God hath given to the Sons of Men, to be exercised in it:  
11. [And I believe,] he hath made every thing beautiful in his time [; and that this variety of Seasons and events makes an admirable Scheme of Providence]: [but then] he hath also 29 given them an 29 unknown continuance [and unknown vicissitudes], so that no man can find out the work that God hath made, from the beginning to the end [; no man can comprehend the method of Providence at present, or know either when the successful season for labours will come, or when it is come, how long it will stay and permit him to enjoy the fruits of them].  
12. [Therefore] I am sensible there is no good in them, but [when they agree with the measures of our duty (for such labours will be recompensed hereafter, however they speed here), and tend to enable a man] to be cheerful [in God's service] ● and to do good in his life:  
13. And also that [to this end] every man [according to his condition] should eat and drink [with discretion so much as is sufficient for this purpose], and enjoy good, [that is, what is proper for him, content at least] in all his labour. [For] this is the gift of God.  
14. [And] I know, [as I said before,] that whatsoever God doth, it is for an unknown time: nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it [; the Seasons cannot be lengthened, or shortened, or any way accommodated to our design, but just as he pleases]. And this God doth, that men should fear before him, [and by promoting his glory strive to attain to that better State, where the History of the World will be exposed to view, and all its intricate varieties explained].  
15. [This is that, which he doth, and always hath aimed at:] that which hath been, is now; and that which is to be, hath already been; and God [still] seeketh the [same] 3● thing pursued.  
16. But moreover [beside the changeable nature of things, in the sixth place, there is such an unequal administration of justice; that a man can scarce be secure of any external possession, nor even of his life itself: which is no inconsiderable objection against those labours, which are leveled only at such things, as are to be enjoyed in this life, and may by this injustice one time or other be ravished from the Owner. For] I have seen under the Sun the place of judgement, that wickedness is there; and the place of righteousness, that iniquity is there.  
17. [Upon which I immediately fell into such meditation as this:] I said in mine heart; [Surely] God will judge the righteous and the wicked: for 31 than will be a time for every purpose and for every work [to be examined over again, to the punishment of evil Magistrates, and the recompense of those that have suffered under them; without which the Divine justice itself can scarce be impartial and perfect].  
18. I said [also] in mine heart concerning the estate of the Sons of men [; Oh], that God would manifest to them, and that they might see, that they themselves are [like] beasts!  
19 For that which befalleth the Sons of men [in general], befalleth beasts, even one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath: so that a man hath no pre-eminence [in this] above a beast: for all is vanity.  
20. All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all return to the dust [again].  
21. [But wicked judges more especially resemble beasts; they are beasts even in that, which chiefly differences the two Species. For] who [among them] knoweth [or considereth] the Spirit of Man, that goeth upward, and the Spirit of the Beast, that goeth downward to the Earth? [They act not, as if their Souls were immortal, or as if they expected any judgement after their own.]  
22. Wherefore I perceive that there is nothing better than that a man should [propound good ends to himself, and then] rejoice in [the integrity of his designs, and in the lawful fruition of that issue of] his works, [which God gives them, whatever it is, without eagerness and solicitude for more]; for that is his portion [here, and a portion that must be taken now or not at all too] ● for who shall bring him [back after death] to see what shall be after him, [or give him any more opportunities]?   

CHAP. IU.  
1. So [leaving this argument] I returned and considered [another, being the seventh against men's indefatigable moiling for the things of this World, taken from] all [those other] Oppressions that are done under the Sun, and [proceed not only from perverted justice in the place of judgement, but from the pride, covetousness, ill-nature, or revenge of those in general, that have power, subtlety, or wealth enough to circumvent and crush their Neighbours. This is a grievous evil indeed, oft bereaves men of all their dearly earned gains, and at last leaves them in a forlorn condition, as I myself with a great deal of horror observed. For] behold, the tears of such as were oppressed, and they had no [t so much as a] Comforter: and [the reason was,] on the side of their Oppressors there was power, and [therefore] they had no [one durst be their] Comforter.  
2. Wherefore I praised the Dead, which are already dead, more than the Living which are yet alive.  
3. Yea, better is he than both they, which hath not yet been, who hath not seen the evil work that is done under the Sun.  
4. Again, [in the last place,] I considered all travel and [even] every ●2 right [and 32 successful] work, [which as far as is possible, escapes the forementioned disappointments and chances;] that for this a man is envied of his Neighbour, [and thereby is forced to conflict with many contumelies and disturbances]. This is also Vanity and vexation of Spirit.  
5. [This is true, though it be unreasonable; though] the [envious] Fool [perhaps] foldeth his hands together, and eateth his own flesh, [pining away for what he has not, but not stirring to obtain that which he so much admires and therefore envies in others]:  
6. [And tho, to allow him his idleness, what he already hath, even] a handful is better with quietness [of mind], than both the hands full with the 33 labour and vexation of [his] Spirit [: I say, notwithstanding this, envy is the fate of the best of Worldly labours].    

NOTES On the foregoing PARAPHRASE.  
1. R. jarchi upon this place says, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 generally signifies words of reproof, that is, of the nature of a satire. But whether this be true or no; the matter of this book, and especially of that part which I am concerned in, will admit the Epithet.  
2. Tho both the Seventy and our English Version take 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for an Appellative name, and render it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or, of the Preacher; yet I do not believe this to be a true account of the word. First, because 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 does not signify, to preach, but, to assemble a Congregation together, etc. Secondly, it is a thing I suppose not practised, in the Title of a book to express the Author, not by his name, but by some attribute or property; unless it be in a buffoonish way, or when an Author desires to be concealed. Thirdly, if ever in other cases it is or may be used, yet certainly the attribute or quality substituted into the room of the Author's proper name ought to be the most eminent one belonging to him, and so peculiar to him too, as in this case to distinguish him at least from the other Writers of the Bible. But if this rule be observed, Solomon can by no means be here called the Preacher. For in the History of him he is celebrated for his wealth, his knowledge, his Proverbs, etc. but scarce for his Preaching. Or however, granting that he may in some sense be called a Preacher, this cannot distinguish him from many of the other Prophets, who preached more properly and frequently, than he did; it being the very business they were sent for, to admonish the people, either of their duty, or the punishments due to their disobedience. Fourthly, if it be a Common word, it must be a Participle, and agree with some Substantive. This they say is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or some such thing understood: and so the sentence filled up runs thus, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Now what a monstrous arbitrary Ellipsis is this? No common mode of speaking, no scope of an Author, no necessity of the sentence determine these to be the words suppressed, any more than many others, that might be inserted. 'Tis true Vatablus pretends custom for the understanding of these words: and to this purpose he says, that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is understood in that phrase 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Dan. 9 23. and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in that, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 2 Sam. 13. 39 But to this I answer, that more liberty may be taken in the body of a History, where the series of the Story will assist the Reader, than in the Title of a book, which is connected to nothing, and aught to be the plainest thing imaginable. Beside if 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 be understood in one place and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in another, this is no authority for making both these words and one more to be understood all in one place. But further, what if neither 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 nor 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 be understood at all in the forementioned Texts? I am apt to believe they are not. For as to the first quotation [Dan. 9 23.], it is common in all Languages to use the Abstract for the Concrete. And therefore Daniel is called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the Delight, for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, delighted in: just as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is put for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 jer. 50. 31. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Pro. 13. 6. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Cant. 1. 4. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in the same book, ch. 2. v. 7. & ch. 3. v. 5. that is in short, just as Titus is called by Suetonius Amor ac deliciae generis humani. As to the other [2 Sam. 13. 39], 1. If the Verb be taken transitively, as the nature of the Conjugation Piel requires; then 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, David's Wife, or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Absalom's Mother, must be implied in the Feminine Gender here; and the sense will be, And she, David's Wife, the Mother of Absalon, by her frequent importunities made David long to go forth to Absalon. Kim●hi says, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that this was A. ben Ezra's opinion. And the truth is, this mode of expressing a Wife or Mother by a Feminine Verb without putting down either of those words themselves, is neither unusual nor unnatural. Numb. 26. 59 it is said, And the name of Amrams Wife was jochebed, the Daughter of Levi, whom she bore [〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉] to Levi in Egypt, i. e. whom Levi's Wife, Iochebed's Mother bare. For who else should bear her; though nothing be said of Levi's Wife or Iochebed's Mother before? And 1 Kings 1. 6. And he also was a very goodly man: and she bore [〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉] him after Absalon, i. e. his Mother, one of David's Wives bore him. So here, And she made King David long to go forth unto Absalon, etc. i. e. she who might be supposed to have the most interest in David and concern for Absalon, as being Wife to the one and Mother to the other. 2. If the Verb be taken intransitively according to the opinion of some (though by the way the Masorethical Note on this place does not at all confirm it, as is pretended. For it only says, that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is found but twice, and in different significations: and I think to cease, as it denotes, Gen. 24. 19 and to make to long, are significations different enough. But granting that the Verb be taken intransitively) then there is an Enallage of the Gender indeed, but nothing understood; and so the words will be construed thus, And King David [not, the Soul of King David] longed to go forth to Absalon, etc. The reason of this perhaps may be to denote the effeminate tenderness of David's heart, that was quickly moved: just as on the contrary the Masculine Verb joined to a Nominative of the Feminine Gender in that judg. 21.21. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, may imply an immodesty or boldness in the Daughters of Shiloh above their Sex, who durst come out to dance so publicly, etc. in that Esth. 1. 20. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 may signify, that respect and submission to a Husband is the most heroical Virtue in Womankind: and in that 2 Kings 3. 26. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 may denote the Manhood used in War. But whether this reason hold or no, it is most certain that this kind of Enallage is common: as is plain particularly from this book of Ecclessiastes, ch. 7. v. 8. ch. 8. v. 11. ch. 10. v. 15. ch. 12. v. 4. etc. So that in short, Vatablus' quotations not at all invalidating what I have said, I take 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for one of Solomon's Proper Names, of the same form with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Ezr. 2. 55, 57 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 2 Chron. 7. 8. I know there lies an Objection against this opinion too, viz. that ch. 7. v. 27. of this book it is joined with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a Verb of the Feminine Gender. But to this I reply, 1. That this is but a single instance: for in all other places it hath a Masculine Syntax. Now should an opinion be built upon this one place, or on all the rest? 2. We have seen above, that the Enallage of the Gender of a Verb is no very strange thing. 3. It is most probable, that the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is misplaced, and that it should be not 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. For though Proper Names do not so generally admit of this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; yet sometimes they do: as 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 2 Sam. 24. 16. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 josh. 1. 12. etc. And thus it is ch. 12. v. 8. of this book, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. I must add here, that though 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is not well translated, the Preacher; yet I have retained, Ecclesiastes, as the name of this book, because it is best known by it.  
3. I here suppose this Title to be prefixed not by Solomon himself, but by Ezra and his Assistants, who not only collected the History of the Patriarchal and jewish Churches, and methodised the Prophecies and other Holy Writings of the Old Testament; but also gave the books, which constitute that Canon of Scripture, their several Titles. So that it is as much, as if it it had been said, These are Words, which we Ezra and the rest of the Great Synagogue have found to be Koheleth's the Son of David, etc. and therefore have put them into the Holy Canon. For this reason, it coming from another's and not from Solomon's own hand, I have represented it to his praise and advantage.  
4. These words, King in jerusalem, in strictness perhaps aught to be referred to Koheleth or Solomon; yet they may too be allowed to relate to the next preceding word, i. e. David, for these reasons. First, because David was the first that entirely conquered jerusalem, and made it the Seat of his Kingdom, and therefore seems most properly to claim this Title. Secondly, because Solomon was born to David ● when he was King in jerusalem; and therefore this may be added to distinguish him from those Sons, that were born to David, when he was only King in Hebron. Thiraly, because whatever is to be said of Solomon as King in jerusalem may be more pertinently brought in at v. 12. of this Chapter: and therefore since David's memory may be a little more emphatically celebrated here without wrong to his Son, it can be no great fault to do it.  
5. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 seems sometimes to imply a notion of Lying or Deceitfulness; and so it is used as synonomous to 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, a Lie; as, Ps. 62. 9 and Prov. 31. 30. Sometimes again it seems to import want either of Solidity or Duration, that is, something of the nature of a Vapour. Thus the Psalmist speaking of Man's days and his age, says, He is altogether 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or Vanity, Psal. 39 5. which St. james expresses by saying, Our life is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, jam. 4. 14. And that phrase 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in Prov. 21. 6. is a vapour driven to and fro, an empty design that wicked men practise upon one another. And so also 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in Chaldee and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in Syriack signify a Vapour or Breath. I have taken in both these thoughts, which together perhaps give the full signification of the word, and are very proper here: for Worldly things are deceitful, because (though they appear taking) they are neither substantial nor durable.  
6. The Verb, from whence 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is derived, in those Conjugations, in which it is used in the B●ble, is, to leave or be lef●; and thence it comes to be, to abound; and thence again it rises higher, and signifies to excel in general, etc. and from any of these 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 may receive a not impertinent interpretation. But among the Syrians we find 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in the Conjugation Peal, denoting, to gain or obtain; as, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Mark 8. 36. and methinks this lets us the most directly into a true signification of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which the English Version turns well by the word, profit.  
7. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is not always labour in an illimited sense; but very often only labour, that is culpable. So it is used twice in Hab. 1. for v. 3. it is joined with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; and v. 13. it is what God cannot look upon. And so it must be used here. For there is a labour, which is not only lawful, but our duty, and (howe'er it succeeds here) certainly profitable too: as, when men in sincerity propound good ends to their labours, the manifestation of God's glory, the improvement of their own Souls by virtue and knowledge, or the obtaining such circumstances as may enable them to serve God cheerfully, to provide conveniently for their Families, decently to discharge that share of public business which belongs to their Station, and upon occasion readily to relieve those that want: and when these ends are prosecuted with resignation to God and dependence upon him for success, with such strict justice as shall in no regard trespass upon any other man, and with such moderation as consists with that duty we owe to ourselves too. The labour therefore intended here must be the labour of them, that propound wrong ends, the humouring their covetous inclination, or procuring an opportunity to gratify their lust, or luxury, or pride, or levity, or the like; and then prosecute these ends by virtue of their own strength or policy without any sense of God or his Providence, not distinguishing between Right and Wrong, nor sparing perhaps themselves in some instances much more than their Neighbours. In short, it is the labour of one that is merely a Creature of this World, and looks no further. For this produces no true profit or advantage.  
8. I have rendered 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, returns, not, goes, as in the English. First because the Hebrews having no Compound Verbs, the Simple stand for the Compound too, when their Construction or the circumstances of the Sentence require. So that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is not only, ivit, but, adivit, abivit, exivit, praeivit, rediit, etc. And thus it signifies to return in that, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Deut. 16. 7. Secondly, though it be common I suppose in all Languages to say men that are dead, are gone; because the phrase is intelligible enough without adding any more; yet in truth it is a defective saying; since of necessity some place must be understood, to which they go. This defect we cannot better fill up than by observing Solomon's own mode of speaking, ch. 3. v. 20. where he says, All go unto one place; i. e. the Dust or the Earth. Now, as he says there, since all are of the dust, all return to the dust; their going is properly a returning. Thirdly, without this sense of the word the following Similes of the Sun, and the Wind, and the Rivers, returning to the same place again, are not very proper.  
9 After all the various accounts of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, it in truth signifies a duration or time, whose length is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or hid from us, of which we know, either not the beginning, or not the end, or perhaps neither. Thus, with respect to time past, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 job 22. 15. is that way, which wicked men have trodden time out of mind: and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is the Landmark, that hath stood for immemorial time. With respect to future time, many of the jewish Statutes are called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 because they were to continue to that unknown period, when Christ should abolish them: Samuel was brought to the House of the Lord to abide there 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, for that unknown time he was to live, 1 Sam. 1. 22. and Ex. 21. 6. the Servant there was to serve his Master 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, i. e. till his Master should please to manumit him, or it may be till his Master died, or till he died himself, or till the next jubilee, if that came first; which was an unknown term of Servitude. And with respect to both, Abraham calls God 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Gen. 21.33. A God, of whose beginning or end he knew nothing; which, though in strictness it does not express eternity, yet might serve for it in those simple and less Philosophical ages; or however in Abraham's judgement was enough to distinguish him from the false Gods; from that host of them in the Heavens, the Sun, Moon, and Stars, of whose Creation Abraham could not be ignorant; and from those Idols, whose beginning was known, or at least whose end might by an easy experiment. This signification of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 I have pitched upon, First, because this place requires it. For it is not true, that the Earth abideth to Eternity. Secondly, because (as appears from the foregoing instances) it may easily be accommodated to all other places, where this word is used. Thirdly, because it removes that insufferable uncertainty of signification, which Lexicographers have put upon 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, making it sometimes to denote infinite duration, and sometimes the quite contrary, that which is not infinite; sometimes eternity, and sometimes again no more than the span of human life. For at this rate, if one and the same word may signify two contraries, Language serves not to inform, but to amuse or seduce us. Fourthly, because it flows naturally from the Root, which signifies, to hide.  
10. There are not a few, that make 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in the front of this Verse, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that follows presently after, to agree with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in the former Verse: and then the sense is, That the Sun goes to the Southern Tropic, and returns to the Northern. But the other opinion, which makes those words to agree with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, is much to be preferred. First, because in the preceding Verse he hath completely said as much of the Sun, as he had occasion for. Secondly, because 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in the middle of this Verse seem only to be a repetition of that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in the beginning, to denote the restlessness and inconstancy of the motion of the Wind: and yet they evidently agree with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
11. This word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in those two or three other places, where it occurs, signifies weary or tired out: but here by a Metonymy it must signify that quality, which is the effect of weariness, i. e. weak and unable to do those things for us, which men expect from them, deficient and not capable of satisfying us, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as Aben Ezra explains it. For, first, this interpretation is most agreeable to the design of the place; and is perhaps more properly premised to the instances following, [The Eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the Ear filled with hearing] than any other that can be named. Secondly, as to our English Version particularly, which renders the word, full of labour, that signification is no where to be found. Thirdly, neither in this place is it true. For all things are not full of labour: there are such things as idleness, and luxury, and pleasure, which tho men may labour to obtain, yet are not called labour themselves; though the means in the way to them may be full of labour, yet they are not said to be so. But these and all other Worldly things may be said to be impotent and unable to give the satisfaction looked for.  
12. It must be noted here, that many do make Solomon from this place to the end of the first half of the Book, to dispute in order against four things, that principally put in their claim to Blessedness and the title of Chief good, viz. Knowledge, Pleasure, Power, and Riches; and tell us, that from this 12th Verse to the end of this Chapter, is the Section leveled against the first of these, and that therefore it relates all of it and only to Knowledge. But from these men I crave leave to descent; First, because this method I am almost confident cannot be made out without a great deal of force to the Text. Secondly, I cannot imagine Solomon intended directly to dispute against Knowledge; unless I could be persuaded too, that by having too much of it he was grown mad (as was once fancied of St. Paul). For this is our chief fence and remedy against the Vanities of this World: this both teaches us how to obtain the felicities of that to come, and makes us more capable recipients of them: and this is that, which Solomon himself elsewhere so highly magnifies, which he bids us incline our ear to, apply our heart to, cry after, lift up our voice for, seek as silver, and search for as hid treasure, etc. Thirdly, he speaks plainly of all things done under the Sun; that he had sought and searched into them; and that he had found them all to be Vanity. I take this Section therefore to be a general Testimony of Solomon's concerning Worldly acquests, which he premises here to a more particular one that follows in the next Chapter, and in which he is so universal and earnest, that he is ready indeed to fall upon Knowledge itself, telling us, that even it can hardly be excepted, but has a tincture of Vanity too, since it is often not only prostituted to evil and Worldly ends, but even the best of it attended with some trouble and disappointments: but I cannot think he designed to make Knowledge the direct object of any part of his satire.  
13. I have put down two significations of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, not knowing indeed which to prefer. For, first, both have good reasons on their side. The first, to be exercised with it, is abetted by several Versions and Commentators, particularly Rashi, who expounds it by, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; by its relation to the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in the same sentence; and by the use of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 among the Syrians, who it is likely had it from the Hebrews. And therefore it is remarkable, that as the Septuagint turns 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 here by 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; so Luk. 10.40. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is turned by the Syriac Testament, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. The other signification also, to be humbled with it, has the Suffrages of many, and (which is more,) the use of the word in Scripture I believe for it too. Thus I doubt not but that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in Host 5. 5. ought to be translated, And the pride of Israel shall be humbled before him, i. e. in the presence of that Lord, whom they in the former Verse did not know or had rejected. For not only the most Translations understand it so; but the scope of the place requires this sense. Secondly, both have the same tendency. For they that interpret the word of being exercised and employed, yet mean such business as is attended with much trouble, which to be sure must tend to deject and humble folks.  
14. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 hath four several accounts to be given of it. First, some make 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the same with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and so interpret it thoughtfulness of Spirit; which perhaps is that, which the Seventy call 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that carefulness of Soul, when men beforehand choose and consult about their affairs. Secondly, some again deduce it from 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and translate it, breaking of Spirit; as the Author of the Targum does, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Thirdly, others derive its signification from 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and construe it, eating or preying upon the Spirit, The Syriac 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and our English, vexation of Spirit seem to include all these. Fourthly, but there, are others that alter the signification of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, taking it to denote, the wind or air; and so make the sense, feeding upon air. And the truth is, this is very natural and most certainly a jewish phrase. Host 12. 1. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Ephraim feedeth on wind, and followeth after the East-wind. But because none of these are very distant from the design of the Author, I have kept to the English Version in the Paraphrase; and in the Poem, where I had occasion to touch upon these words at all, I have taken that sense of them, which first came to my thoughts.  
15. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is sometimes Wisdom, i. e. Knowledge 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and properly so called: But here it should rather be turned, Knowledge in general. First, because v. 13, 17. it seems to be Speculation about the natures of things and opinions of Mankind. Secondly, because both here and v. 16. it is used as Synonomous to 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which is Knowledge in general. Thirdly, because it is false, that in much Wisdom or Prudence there is much grief. No man ever receives grief or trouble by the wise choice of good ends, and proper means leading to them. But of Knowledge not thus limited it is true, that there is a great deal of trouble both in getting and keeping it; although it be true also, that men may be sufficiently recompensed for this trouble by the advantages, which their intellectual faculties and their Virtue are capable of receiving from this attainment.  
16. This is a common signification of the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; as, for instance, in that trite phrase, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Do what seemeth good or proper in your eyes.  
17. This place must be understood of drunkenness; First, because the expression imports as much. For according to the true Grammatical construction of it, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is, to extend my flesh with wine; by which no moderate quantity can be meant. Secondly, otherwise this had been no new Experiment. For without doubt this great King of Israel had tasted a glass of Wine with moderation often enough before this.  
18. This Parenthesis 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Rabbi S. jarchi expounds thus, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 though my body was extended with wine, yet my mind as it were rolled itself about, i. e. exercised it s●lf in wisdom, etc. And this exposition I suppose may proceed from the more modern acceptation of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, to accustom or use one's self to any thing. But no such signification of the word appears to have been known in the Scripture times. Our English Translation is a kin to this; if not something worse. For how 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 comes to signify, acquainting; or how Solomon could be said to get acquaintance with wisdom (by which I suppose is meant improving himself in it), when he was given up to drinking and excess; are things not easy to be comprehended. Aben Ezra says, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is the Participle of a Transitive Verb, whose Accusative is wanting, but is thus to be supplied by the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and my heart conducted its words with wisdom. But this is a precarious Ellipsis, and not pertinent neither. The Chaldee and Greek render it, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, seeming to understand 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and to make the sense, and my heart led me in knowledge, or, according to knowledge. This sense is indeed plain, and agreeable both to the business in hand, and the general use of the word in the Bible. But I must add, that there is no necessity to understand this 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 neither. For 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 often involves its own Accusative case by reflecting a reciprocal signification upon the Person it agrees with: as, 2 Kings 9 20. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, he drives himself, or comes on furiously: and so here, my heart 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, led itself, or led me, i. e. went on according to knowledge, etc. For whether 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 respects 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 all together, or the Affix of the first Person only; the difference is not considerable.  
19 What 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 means is a Riddle not to be unfolded by any mortal Oedipus. Interpretations are so various, and all of them so wild and extravagant; that for want of a better, I have kept to the English Translation.  
20. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signifies, he was on my side, i. e. he assisted me: as we say in English, he was for me, or, he stood to me; or as in Latin, pro me stetit. The Verb indeed is often omitted; as, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Ps. 118. 6. but Dan. 11. 17. we find both 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 expressed, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. The phrase was perhaps originally Military, and taken from the Wars; but metaphorically it may be applied to any thing else; as particularly here to Solomon's Knowledge, which assisted him in his pursuit after pleasures, in these words, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. And therefore the Targum paraphrases them thus, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: and the Seventy render them, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, that is, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the simple Verb being put for the Compound after the Hebrew manner, which the Hellenistical Dialect is very well known to imitate.  
21. See Note 9  
22. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signifies, to go on directly towards the end propounded, to prosper, or succeed; as ch. 11. v. 6. of this Book, In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand: for thou knowest not whether 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 shall prosper, etc. Hence 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is prosperity, or success; and should be so translated here, ch. 4. v. 4. and ch. 5. v. 10; which are the only places, in which it is to be found.  
23. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 understood as a Proposition is, quite contrary to our Version, It is not good for a man, that he should eat, etc. But if it be understood as a Question, it is, Is it not good for a man that he should eat, etc. And thus our Translators took it, notwithstanding the Erotematic 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 be wanting (which sometimes happens); and from thence proceeded to make it a more vehement Affirmation, There is nothing better for a man than that he should eat, etc. I think this is too much; and that the Interrogation had better been retained. But I only mention this to observe the partiality of them, who swallow this Translation easily; but abominate the same, or less liberty in that Version of the Psalms in our Liturgy, Ps. 105. 28. and therefore I omit all the other many Criticisms, that relate to this Text.  
24. I beg liberty here to read 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, not 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as in the ordinary Copies. First, because the sense can no other way be made so coherent and proper. Secondly, because I perceive the Seventy read it so, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; Other Translations also follow the same reading. But if any one, that allows this reading, should yet demand further, how 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 comes to signify without him; I answer, that indeed I do not remember I ever met with this phrase in any other place of the Bible; that therefore it admits of nothing but conjecture; but that the sense I have put upon it is most probable, since it suits best both with the design of this place, and with the use of the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in other. For it signifies generally, abroad, or, at a distance; as, Deut. 23. 12. Thou shalt have a place also 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, abroad with respect to the Camp, or, out of the Camp, whither thou shalt go forth 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 abroad, to some distance, etc. And so here, Who can eat, or who can hasten hereunto 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as it were abroad from him, or at a distance from him, that is (as it seems to me), without him.  
25. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is no where else to be found among the Holy Writings, but the Books of the Captivity (as they are called); and there it most plainly signifies an appointed or determined time. Now there being no authority nor necessity to alter its signification, the meaning of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 will be, That God hath appointed to all kind of events certain times or seasons, out of which no human industry by itself can produce those events, and beyond which it cannot make them last. This he hath done either by the established nature of things, which makes them incapable of being but under suitable circumstances and respects to other things; or by those particular and direct decrees which have marked out the revolutions of Churches and Kingdoms (as appears from the Prophecies relating to many of them), and even the more general strokes of particular men's lives, the time and place of their living [Acts 17. 26.] their condition whether to honour or dishonour [Rom. 9 21.] etc. This is a strong argument against the excessive labours of Worldly men; since they are neither certain of having success, nor of enjoying long that which they have. But (which ought to be observed) this is no argument against regular and laudable industry: because God being with the pious Labourers, he will either direct them to hit upon the right seasons; or it may be overrule for their sake the course of things; or at least, if their prosperity interferes with any of his decrees (as we know it very often hath), he will abundantly recompense in a better World their sufferings and want of success in this.  
26. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is commonly rendered tempus opportunum, idoneum, or the like; but seems to have something more of the signification of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in it, and to denote often not so much opportunity of time, as the limitation of it to such and such purposes and events. Thus 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 jer. 15. 11. are, not a time opportune or convenient for evil and affliction (for no men ever expressed themselves so, as if they thought any time opportune or convenient for affliction), but the time when God had determined to bring evil and affliction upon the jews. This part of the verse therefore is but a repetition of the former: and each of them confirms the sense of the other.  
27. I take 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 here for Precious Stones; First, because 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is used in this sense Exod. 28. 11. where 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is an Engraver of Precious Stone, not a Carver of Stone in general. Secondly, Because if the word be understood of Common Stone, this thought will be much the same with that in the later part of the third verse before.  
28. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, i. e. to rend clothes, as particularly upon the death of Relations and Friends. For otherwise the instance seems too trivial.  
29. This saying 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 has perplexed Interpreters with as little reason, as success. For take the words, as they lie, in their common acceptation, and they make an elegant proper sense,— he hath given, or, placed a hidden duration in the midst of them, or in them, i. e. every thing mentioned in the sentence before. Thus all know 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is used: thus I have showed already [Note 9] 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is generally to be understood: thus according to the Hebrew idiom 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is frequently taken: and thus the Plural Affix joined to it by a Synthesis common to all Languages may relate to that Collective Noun 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in the former part of the Verse. In short, as Ps. 4. 7. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, is, thou hast placed joy in my heart, or in the midst of me, or in me, i. e. thou hast given me joy, or thou hast made me to rejoice; so, he hath placed a hidden duration in the heart of them, or in them, is natuaally and plainly, he hath given them an unknown duration, or, he hath made them to endure for unknown periods.  
30. Commentators generally apply 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to Time, which they understand here. But then they divide about it again; some making it to signify the present, some the past, and some the future time. To me it seems better to understand it of none of these, but of that thing or end, which is pursued by God in these vicissitudes, Is. 51. 1. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 are they that pursue after righteousness, and make that the end of their designs: so here 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is the thing which is aimed at.  
31. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signifies, then, as well as, there: and so here it denotes that time, when God shall judge the righteous and the wicked; as it is said just before he will. Aben Ezra tells us also, that in the other signification, there, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 this word points out to us the future State, without relating to any thing; as, in that of job, Naked shall I return thither [〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉] to that place, of which all men know without saying any more.  
32. See Note 22.  
33. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is a Generical word, and yet sometimes stands for some particular sort of labour. It is both good and bad labour; and yet Ch. 1. v. 3. it is only that which is bad (see Note 7.) So again I suppose it is the labour both of body and mind; and yet here it relates only to the mind. For in the Verse before the Envious Fool is said to fold up his hands; and therefore it cannot be understood of his bodily labour, but of the labouring and vexation of a Spirit disturbed with envy.  
FINIS.   

ERRATA  
THE Reader is desired to excuse some small Errors of the Press, such as these:  
1. The omission of a Quotation or two in the Margin of the Epistle to the Reader. For p. 10. over against l. 15. should be, Ibid. and p. 14. over against l. 24. should be, juu. S. 1. v. 45, etc.  
2. The mispelling or altering of a few Words: as, p. 15. l. 27. Stature, for, Statuere: p. 16. l. 15. and, for, et: p. 23. v. 4. Echo, for, Echo: p. 51. v. 4. more, for, hence: p. 57 v. 19 leaves, for, leaves: p. 60. v. 2. led, for, lead: p. 98. v. 9 as, for, a: p. 110. v. 1. Woose, for, Whose: p. 144. l. 28. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, for, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, etc.  
3. Mistakes in the distinction of Sentences, or their members, especially by inserting Commas where there ought to be none; Small letters often put for Capital, and vice versa; sometimes too it may be Roman Characters, where Italian might be expected, or Italian, where Roman; Notes of abbreviation generally omitted in the Hebrew; and such other little things, which either are of no moment, or easily corrected.   


A Catalogue of BOOKS lately Printed for james Knapton, at the Crown in St. Paul's Churchyard. 1691.  
THE Essays or Counsels, Civil and Moral, of Sir Francis Bacon, Lord Verulam, Viscount St. Alban. With a Table of the Colours of Good and Evil. Whereunto is added the Wisdom of the Ancients. Enlarged by the Honourable Author himself; and now more exactly Published.  
Directions to a Holy Life, in 3 parts: 1. The Benefit of being truly Religious: 2. The Necessity of good Works: 3. The Exercise of the Love of God. By the late Reverend Mellew Scrivener, Vicar of Ha●elingfield, in Cambridgshire. The Second Edition.  
Guide to Eternity, extracted out of the Writing of the Holy Fathers, and Ancient Philosopher's. Written originally in Latin by john Bona, and now done into English by Sir Roger L'Estrange. The Third Edition.  
The second part of the Weeks Preparation to the Sacrament, consisting of Soliloquies, Prayers, Hymns, Ejaculations, Thanksgivings, and Examination for Sunday Evening after the Celebration of the Holy Communion; together with directions to lead a Holy Life.  
An Earnest Invitation to the Sacrament of the Lords Supper, by joseph Glanvill, Chaplain in ordinary to His Majesty. The Sixth Edition, with additional Prayers.  
A Choice Collection of Poems, written by the Eminent Wits of the Age. Printed in Octavo.  
A Congratulatory Poem on the Arrival of the P. of Orange.  
A Congratulatory Poem to Queen Mary, on her Arrival in England.  
An Ode on the King's Birth.  
An Ode on the Queen's Birth.  
An Ode on the King's return from Ireland.  
All Written by Tho. Shadwell, Poet Laureate.  
Quadriennium jacobi: or, the History of the Reign of K. james II. from his first coming to the Crown to his Desertion. The Second Edition.  
The Governor of Cyprus: or, the Loves of Virotto and Dorothea. A Novel, in Twelves.  
The Wanton Friar: or, the Irish Amour. A Novel, in two Parts, in Twelves.  
The History of the Inquisition as it is Exercised at Goa. Written in French by the Ingenious Monsieur Dellon, who laboured five years under those severities, with an Account of his Deliverance. Translated into English. Quarto.  
Some Observations concerning Regulating Elections for Parliament.  
Their Highness' the P. and P. of Orange opinion about a General Liberty of Conscience; being a Collection of four select Papers. Viz. 1. Mijn Heer Fagels first Letter to Mr. Stewart. 2. Reflections on Monsieur Fagel's second Letter. 3. Fagel's second Letter to Mr. Stewart.  
4. Some Extracts out of Mr. Stewarts Letter, which were Communicated to Mijn Heer Fagel; together with some Reference to Mr. Stewarts Letter. Quarto.   

PLAYS.  
Fortune-Hunters, a Comedy; written by Captain Carlisle.  
Widow Ranter.  
Forced Marriage.  
Sir Patient Fancy.  
Feigned Courtesans; or a Night Intrigue. All four written by Mrs. Behne.  
English Friar, by Mr. Crown, Author of Sir Courtly Nice.  
Female Prelate; or Pope joan, by E. Settle.  
Mr. Anthony; written by the E. of Orrery, Author of Henry V. and Mustapha.  
Devil of a Wife; written by Mr. jevon.  
Deluge; or, the Destruction of the World, an Opera.  
Don Carlos; a Tragedy.  
Friendship in fashion; a Comedy.  
Titus and Berenice, a Tragedy, with a Farce, called the Cheats of Scapin: All three written by Mr. Tho. Otway.  
Spanish Friar; written by Mr. Dryden.  
Circe; by Charles D' Avanant, L.L.D.  
Anthony and Cleopatra, by Sir Ch. Sidley.  
Lucius junius, Brutus, by Mr. Lee.  
The Siege of Babylon, by Samuel Pordage, Esq  
Sicilian Usurper, a Tragedy, with a Prefatory Epistle in vindication of the Author, occasioned by the Prohibition of the Play on the Stage.  
Cytherea, or the Enamouring Girl, by Mr. I. Smith.  
The English Monarch, an Heroic Tragedy, by Tho. Rymer, Esq  
All Mr. Dryden's Works, bound in 3 Vol. Quarto.  
All Mr. Shadwell's Plays, being bound up in one Vol. Quarto, and contain these underwritten: 

Sullen Lovers.  
Royal Shepherdess.  
Humourist.  
Vertuoso.  
Psyche.  
Libertine.  
Epsom Wells.  
Timon of Athens.  
Miser.  
True Widow.  
Lancashire Witches.  
Woman Captain.  
Squire of Alsatia.  
Bury Fair.  
Amorous Bigot.  
The Scowrers.     
FINIS.