!THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY,! ^ Princeton, N. J. ^ % t \$)/ js fly, _\Q/ .sXV jifWV sQs -sQ/ vfl/ vOy vOy vO/ vO.# vO/ vft- .n- 0nr r^ e + 7 ^> Q <*■* PR 3463 .G5 E6 1823 Gambold, John, 1711-1771. The works of the Rev. John Gambold, A.M \ * I . ’ 0 » mowt n y.u ivm u > . . . . ■: 0 ^ SELECT CHRISTIAN AUTHORS WITH INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS. t THE WORKS REV. JOHN GAMBOLD, A. M. LATE ONE OF THE BISHOPS OF THE UNITED BRETHREN. WITH AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAY, BY THOMAS ERSKINE, ESQ. ADVOCATE, AUTHOR OF Remarks on the Internal Evidence for the Truth of Revealed Religion. SECOND EDITION. GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR CHALMERS AND COLLINS; WAUGH AND INNES, EDINBURGH; R. M. TIMS, DUBLIN; AND G. AND W. B. WHITTAKER, LONDON. 1823 , . . * r ••. • * j . « . Jk Printed by W. Collins.& Co Glasgow. INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. It has Ion^ been received as a maxim amongst those o o who have studied politics, in connection with the philosophy of human nature, that the surest and shortest way of making men good subjects and good citizens, is to make them happy subjects and happy citizens. When we say that a man is happy as a subject, or as a citizen, or as a member of any society, we feel that we are just saying, in other w r ords, that he is attached to the government, or state, or society under, or in which he lives; and that he is, of course, disposed to fulfil the duties connected with these relations. It is a maxim founded on the in¬ stincts of man; and however it may be neglected in practice, it has too much obvious truth in it, to be often controverted in the abstract. Some speculative philanthropists have given this maxim a more splen¬ did and imposing form. They say, “ Surround a man with circumstances, and you make of him what you please; command his circumstances, and you command his character.” This proposition has not met with so favourable a reception as the other, although it is probably intended to convey precisely the same idea, namely, that a man’s character de- VI pends on, or is moulded by events and facts external to himself. Indeed, it is impossible to make a man happy in any relation, without commanding his cir¬ cumstances in some degree,—and so those, who ad¬ mit the first proposition, are bound in reason to admit the second. Perhaps the equivocal use of the word circumstances may have occasioned some part of the coldness with which it has been received. But, certainly, the chief part is to be ascribed to the un¬ masked openness with which it comes forward. It assumes a postulate which can never be granted, namely, that it is in the power of man to command circumstances to an indefinite extent. Men may flatter themselves that they can make each other happy, in general , but when they are brought to ; "particulars , they know and acknowledge that their power is very limited, that they cannot avert pain, or death, or remorse. We are in the habit of calling a man’s visible relations, and 1 especially his fortune, health, and family circle, exclusively his circumstances—and as we have many proofs that these circumstances, in their most prosperous state, cannot ensure happiness, we think ourselves entitled to deny it of all circumstances. But every thing which comes in contact with a man’s feeling or thought; every thing which occasions joy or sorrow, hope or fear, love or hate, may come properly under the denomination of circumstances. In truth, every feeling arises from some circumstance or cause in contact with us, and yet external to us,—and we know neither happiness nor misery except from cir¬ cumstances. It is no exaggeration then to say, that Vll if we could command the circumstances of a man we could also command his happiness and his character. But of whom can it be said, without exaggeration, that he really can command the circumstances of any sensitive, and intelligent, and immortal being? The relations of human existence are numerous, and to each of these relations belong its peculiar circum¬ stances. Men are fathers, brothers, husbands, sons, friends, masters, servants, rulers and subjects. They are connected by blood, by business, and by mutual interest—and there are many supposable circum¬ stances in these relations, capable of producing much joy or much sorrow. Who can command these cir¬ cumstances? Moreover, men are creatures account¬ able to their Creator. This is the grand and per¬ manent relation. All other relations cease with our life, and even with the lives of others. A man ceases to be a father, when he dies himself, or when all his children are dead,—he ceases to be a husband, when his wife is dead,—but he cannot cease to be a creature whilst his existence continues in any mode or form whatever. Who can command the circum¬ stances of this relation? Who is it that can sur¬ round the spirit of a man with the light of the di¬ vine countenance? and make this light an abiding and a continual circumstance, accompanying him through life, and bringing into near and distinct vision, the undisturbed, unfading, and increasing glories of eternity? Who is he that can remove from a mind convinced of its rebellion against God, and of the justice and awfulness of his displeasure— who can remove from such a mind, the fearful look- Vlll ing for of judgment ? Besides, this great relation is not only permanent, it is also the root, and the re¬ gulator of all the rest. Who placed us in these va¬ rious passing relations ? Our Creator. And our relation to him it is, which binds us to fulfil the du¬ ties of these relations faithfully. Of these inferior relations, some are more impor¬ tant to our happiness than others. Thus, a man’s peace is not so much destroyed by having a worthless servant, or by meeting with a reverse of fortune, as by having a wicked son, or a false friend. Whilst the circumstances belonging to the more important relations of life continue favourable, adverse ones in the less important, can be easily supported. But one unfavourable circumstance in the closer and nearer relations, will often cast its own dark shadow over a uniform prosperity in all the lower relations. We find that this is the case in the temporary rela¬ tions of this world, and it is so also in the first and highest relation. A man can generally escape from what is painful in this world’s relations. He can leave his country, and whatever it contains, if he does not like it; or if he cannot do this, he knows that a few years must free him from oppressive rule, from bad health, from unkind friends, and from all other evils peculiar to this life. The thought of a near deliverance is a powerful mitigator of affliction. There are many hours too, in which he may with¬ draw himself from his circumstances of sorrow, and then he may have some repose. But if the cir¬ cumstances of his chief relation, his state before God, be favourable; then, even in the midst of the IX most overwhelming of this world’s calamities, he is an enviable man; there may be, and will be, in spite of occasional eclipses, a deep substantial peace within him, the reflected image of the Sun of Righte¬ ousness,—-he does not look on passing events, as the channels of joy or sorrow, but as the indications of his gracious Father’s will, calling him to the exer ¬ cise of faith and love, those holy principles, in the perfection of which, consists the perfection of happi¬ ness—he hath a refuge which the world sees not, and into it he fleeth and is safe—he can even rejoice in tribulations, whilst he thinks of (( the man of sor¬ rows,” and of the exceeding and eternal weight of glory which is wrought out by these light afflictions which are but for a moment—he looks forward to the glorious morning of the eternal sabbath, and he feels that he is free and happy for ever. But if the circumstances of this highest relation be wrong, all is wrong. They may be wrong, and often are, without being felt to be so. There are many who have not set down their relation to God in the list of their relations, who have never re¬ garded his favour or displeasure, as circumstances of their condition, and who have never looked into eter¬ nity as their own vast, untried dwelling-place, des¬ tined to be either their heaven or their hell. And yet this is the chief relation, and these are the chief circumstances of their being. The very root of the moral existence of such persons is dead. Their circumstances are, in truth, most deplorable, and their insensibility to pain from them, arises from palsy, not from health. But in some, just so much A 3 X animation remains, that these mighty circumstances are felt to be unfavourable, and then they blacken existence and convert it into anguish. They poison every other relation, and paralyze action in every other duty. Escape is impracticable. The only remedy lies in having these circumstances altered. But who can command these circumstances? Can man command them? A man who is happy as a father, or a friend, or a citizen, will be found to fulfil the duties of those re¬ lations better than another equally conscientious, who is unhappy in these relations—because the one will act cheerfully and from the heart, whilst the other acts from the less lively principle of a sense of propriety. And where there is no conscientiousness on either side, the man who is happy in those rela¬ tions, will fulfil the duties arising out of them, natu¬ rally so to speak, whilst the unhappy man will as natu¬ rally neglect them. Happiness in one leading rela¬ tion, will often cast its own cheerful glow on the less pleasing circumstances of lower relations, and fill out the concomitant duties with its own life and vigour. Of what immense moment then must it be to have the circumstances of our highest relation, that in which we stand to our Creator, favourable and happy! This would be purifying the fountain, and all the streams would be pure. This would be heal¬ ing the root, and all the branches would bear good fruit. But we must again return to that most im¬ portant and critical interrogation, who can command these circumstances? Who can give a man happi¬ ness, in the full view of all his relations ? XI There is nothing absurd in saying, 6i Command the circumstances of a man, and you command his characterbut there is a strange absurdity in sup* posing, that any power short of omnipotence can command these circumstances; because, the chief of our relations is that in which we stand towards him who is omnipotent. God alone can command these circumstances: no one but God has authority to say that our offences and failures in that relation are for¬ given—that a full satisfaction has been made on our behalf, to the broken laws of the universal govern¬ ment—that the gates of the family of God are thrown open to us, and that we are invited every moment to speak to him as to a Father, and lean upon him, as on an almighty, and faithful, and tender friend—and that the unending duration to which we are advanc¬ ing, is safe and peaceful, full of bliss, and full of glory. The circumstances of that highest relation have been most particularly and fully made known to us in the Bible, that we might have happiness, even the joy of the Lord, which, if really attained by us, will supply strength for the cheerful, and affection¬ ate, and diligent performance of every duty, spring¬ ing from every relation in life, and will be our com¬ fort and hiding place, in every sorrow. It has often struck us, as a very remarkable fact, that principles, which are generally recognized as most reasonable and true, when applied to the af¬ fairs of this life, should be instantly rejected as un¬ reasonable and contemptible, when applied to the great concerns of eternity. We can easily suppose the smile of scorn with which a political philosopher Xil would look upon us, if in reply to his question, 5 ' ' /tfforvr'C. rii i • « * J , : Oh ’ ■■ , . •; : io ** . - , ■ . ■ v. . THE MARTYRDOM OF ST. IGNATIUS. ... \ , I i & M« § i W V . ...... * - - -i. 6 ; } r. [ - . - • ■. > PREFACE. Whether the reverend Author of the following piece ever intended it for publication is not known. So much is certain, that for some years before his decease he was not even possessed of a copy of it; and out of his peculiar modesty, and perhaps because he knew it was not perfect, according to the gene¬ rally received rules of the drama, and for some other reasons, he wished that it had not strayed, in manu¬ script, into the hands of some of his friends, who valued it highly, not only on account of their esteem for the Author, hut for its own excellence in point of sentiment. Those who had the happiness to be intimately acquainted with the author, knew that he was of a very studious turn of mind, and could not be satis¬ fied with the surface and appearance of things, but sought eagerly after useful and necessary truth, and was unwearied in his researches. This induced him not only to read with great attention the Holy Scrip¬ tures, but to study the fathers of the first centuries, believing that in them he should find the strongest features of the Christian religion, and the fullest 60 proofs of what was the doctrine, discipline, and tem¬ per of the Christian church, at and immediately after the times of the apostles. He was at a certain time so given up, if we may thus express it, to the company of the fathers, and so taken with their manners, that he unintentionally became in his way of thinking, speaking and acting, as though he had lived in the first or second century, and in the closest intimacy with Ignatius, Polycarp, and others. He had in his youth a great fondness for drama¬ tic pieces, both ancient and modern; and though we cannot find that he ever frequented the theatres any where, yet looking upon dramatic writings as a pleas¬ ing and impressive manner of conveying ideas and actions to others, we suppose he formed the plan of giving, if not to the public, yet to some of his friends, a representation of the state, principles, and practice of the Christians in the first and second century, in a dramatic composition. He certainly believed, that a piece, wherein the love of Christ, shed abroad in the heart by the Holy Ghost, is set forth as producing the most excellent principles in the human soul, devotion to God, love to our neighbours, humility, forbearance, aptness to forgive, yea, to love and bless even bitter, active, and powerful enemies, would be more suited and edify¬ ing to a Christian reader, than such as are too much in vogue to the reproach of Christianity; in which, lust, pride, and ambition, are called in to assist in the production of something, like virtue, but which cannot be worthy of that name, when proceeding from such vile and poisoned sources. 61 Our author, in writing this tragedy, adhered to history, and has therefore attended Ignatius at An¬ tioch, and from thence to Rome, by the same road which he travelled. He has given him the same company which he then had; and has presented Ig¬ natius, Polycarp, and the bishops and deacons who attended at Smyrna to our view, in such a clear and lively manner, that we are brought into their com¬ pany, and hear them speak the sentiments written in the epistles of Ignatius and Polycarp, and see them act agreeable to the most authentic accounts which are handed down to us, of what passed at that time; and the whole performance is so adapted to the spi¬ rit of that period, that there is hardly any thing that can be called his but the dress. What Ignatius speaks to the Romans in the tra¬ gedy, is only a version of what he wrote to the Christians at Rome. The reasonings of the two philosophers for and against the Christian scheme may be difficult for some readers to understand, but bespeak the genius of the most candid and upright of that class of men in those later times. We wish that the philosophers of our day were always willing to discuss the essential tenets of Christianity with the same openness, and to re¬ ceive the force of truth, grounded upon experience: then would the supercilious sneer of contempt, and the prompt rejection of Christianity at the first men¬ tioning of it, give way to, at least, a mild and tolerant temper. • We do not present this to the public as a perfect dramatic performance; we are sensible it will not 62 bear, in all respects, to be examined by the strict rules of criticism. The author has not attended to unity of time and place; but for this he will not be blamed by the admirers of Shakespeare, or by those who have read the fine tragedies of Jephthah and of John Baptist, by Buchanan. He takes no pains to render the plot intricate, and then to unravel and wind it up, so as to leave the mind filled with amaze¬ ment at the event; but he follows history, without seeking to awaken the passions, or surprise by uncom¬ mon incidents; and yet it is to be hoped, that some will feel many passages and incidents powerfully and usefully. Had our author himself published it, we are persuaded he would have given it a finishing which it cannot get now. As this piece is therefore not presented to the public as a complete dramatic composition, it can af¬ ford no employment for critics in this point of view. And as to those who may be offended with the gen¬ eral scope of this performance, and the general ten¬ dency of the doctrines it enforces by no fictitious ex¬ amples, but with historical faithfulness, they must employ their critical abilities, not on the author, but on the fathers, and even on the apostles themselves; for we cannot help lamenting that the cross, or the power of the incarnation, sufferings, and death of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ was, is, and will be, alas! to many foolishness; but to others who are ' •> and shall be saved, the power of God and the wis¬ dom of God. The reason that this piece is now published is this: sundry copies of it have been procured by dif- 63 ferent persons, and some of them are very imperfect. Many, who have read it, have urged that it might be printed; and we were not without apprehensions that it would sooner or later be published from some imperfect or erroneous copy, or by some one who might mar by attempts to mend, and we have seen some such copies: therefore we rather choose to publish our author as we found him, with the hope that it will be of some use and a blessing to many, by their not only reading, but feeling something of the spirit of the first Christians. The operations and fruits of that Spirit that glorifies Jesus, must be the same in all periods of time to the end of the world. As many readers may be unacquainted with the life of Ignatius, we have given some account of this blessed martyr, from the best authorities; and also, of Polycarp, who is so often mentioned, and is a principal character in the tragedy. ' * * e 71 ' - - - >!ij Ct 'ii ' u. tif: , ,a - ■ »•; i 0- •. < ' • Dtu A ■ . '«t • ■ • :■ -• > t>*r:f• -..... ; \ : f - ' ' : :x. • - , . , ' j r '..r'. ■. : ■ j ... : it.: ■ - * i : • •. t. . , . * . _ ' ■ ' ; r-11 ‘ SOME ACCOUNT OF ST. IGNATIUS. From what parents Ignatius sprung, is not told us; nor is it certain where he was born, but this honour has been ascribed to Nora in Sardinia. There is a tradition that he was the little child whom our blessed Lord and Saviour set before the disciples, when he told them, that 66 Except they were converted, and became as little children, they should not enter into the kingdom of heaven.” But as the proofs handed down to us are not sufficient to authenticate this relation, we cannot deliver it as a fact; nor is it material to our purpose, as the inten¬ tion is only to give, from the best authorities, some account of what the grace of God made Ignatius to be as a Christian, a bishop, and a martyr. This appears certain, that he was contemporary and particularly acquainted with the apostles of our Lord, and received instructions from those first and inspired messengers of God our Saviour, and that he and Polycarp were more especially disciples of St. John. 66 Having approved himself as a Christian indeed, and as a devoted and anointed servant of our Lord Jesus Christ, he was, upon the decease of Euodius, chosen by the apostles bishop of Antioch, the me¬ tropolis of Syria, and was consecrated thereunto by them with imposition of hands. Thus he must have continued many (it is said forty) years in this important function; and we are told, by those who attended him to his martyrdom at Rome, and who gave an account of his death, that 66 he was a man in all things like unto the apos¬ tles;” so that he must have been, in all respects, a worthy and venerable bishop, approving himself in the sight of all men as a faithful steward over the household of God; and that he was, as is said of him, (< like a divine lamp illuminating the hearts of thp faithful by his exposition of the Holy Scrip¬ tures.” That he was clothed with humility, appears from all his epistles; for though so highly esteemed as a faithful shepherd and bishop, and on the way to re¬ ceive that which was, in those days, esteemed the highest possible honour that a human creature and an heir of grace could possess, the crown of martyr¬ dom; yet, in writing to the Romans, Smyrnseans, and others, concerning the church of Syria, he says of himself, £< I am even ashamed to be reckoned as one of them; for neither am I worthy, being the least among them, and as one born out of due sea¬ son. But through mercy I have obtained to be somebody, if I shall get to God.” That the love of God was shed abroad in his 67 heart by the Holy Ghost, is evident from all he has written. The work of redemption by the incarna¬ tion, life, suffering, and death of our Lord Jesus Christ, and his resurrection for our justification, be¬ ing deeply impressed on his heart by the Holy Ghost, made him a living witness of the power of the great salvation to all around him, and a constant inculcator of the redemption in Christ’s blood. We must not expect to find in those of his epis¬ tles which are extant, a regular system of divinity. He wrote letters to several churches, and to Poly¬ carp, when he was hurried to Rome under a guard of rude soldiers: we therefore find, that although the great and fundamental truths of the Gospel are asserted throughout his epistles, yet he only wrote about such cases as related to their and his own cir¬ cumstances at that time. As the spirit of Jesus infuses love, meekness, forbearance, and the most real concord and union, so he, as a disciple of St. John, who learned it on the breast of his gracious Master, earnestly exhorted the churches to remain in brotherly love and union of heart. Thus, in his epistle to the Magnesians, he writes, 66 I salute the churches: wishing in them an union both of the body and spirit of Jesus Christ, our eternal life.” Again, 66 I exhort you to do all things in a divine concord.—Let no one look upon his neighbour after the flesh ; but do you all mutu¬ ally love each other in Jesus Christ.” Again, 66 Be¬ ing come together in the same place, have one com¬ mon prayer; one supplication; one mind; one hope; in love, and in joy undefiled. There is one Lord 68 Jesus Christ, than whom nothing is better. Where¬ fore come ye all together as unto one temple of God; as to one altar, as to one Jesus Christ, who proceeded from one Father, and exists in one, and is returned to one.” The Trallians he exhorts to 66 love every one his brother with an unfeigned heart.” To the Philadelphians he writes, 66 Come altogether into one place with an undivided heart;” and he speaks out of the same spirit in all his epistles. As this was a subject which he urged agreeable to the mind of his Lord and Master, so he was fired with holy indignation against all those who sought to foment dissensions, by introducing doc¬ trines contrary to the mind of Christ. He tells the Ephesians, 66 There are some who carry about the name of Christ in deceitfulness, but do things un¬ worthy of God; these ye must flee, as ye would so many wild beasts: for they are ravening dogs, who bite secretly: against whom you must guard your¬ selves as men hardly to be cured. Wherefore let no one deceive, as indeed neither are ye deceived, being wholly the servants of God. For inasmuch as there is no contention among you, which can trouble you, ye must needs live according to God’s will.” To the Trallians he writes, (i Stop your ears, therefore, as often as any dne shall speak contrary to Jesus Christ, who was of the race of David, of the virgin Mary.” To the Philadelphians, 66 As becomes the children both of the light and of the truth, flee divisions and false doctrines: but where your shepherd is, there do ye, as sheep, follow after. For there are many wolves who seem worthy of 69 belief, that, with a false pleasure, lead captive those that run in the course of God; but in your concord they shall find no place. Be not deceived, brethren: if any one follows him that maketh a schism in the church, he shall not inherit the kingdom of God. If any walks after any other opinion, he agrees not with the passion of Christ. Love unity: flee divi¬ sions : be the followers of Christ as he was of the Father. Where there is division and wrath, God dwelleth not.” From hence, and many other passages in his epistles, it appears evident that there were in his days, as there had been even in the time of the apostles, men of corrupt minds, who sowed seeds of dissension among the children of God, and who turned the grace of God into licentiousness; and that he saw, beforehand, reason to caution the Christians against such who should arise, perverting the truth, or holding it in unrighteousness; touching whom, he tells the Trallians, 44 That such confound together the doctrine of Jesus Christ with their own poison, whilst they seem worthy of belief, as men give a deadly poison mixed with sweet wine, which he, who is ignorant of it, does, with the treacherous pleasure, sweetly drink in his own death.” He adds, 44 Wherefore guard yourselves against such persons; and that ye will do, if ye are not puffed up.” Of such deceivers he says, in his epistle to the Ephesians, 44 Those that corrupt families by adultery, shall not inherit the kingdom of God. If therefore they, who do this according to the flesh, have suffered death; how much more shall he die, 70 who by his wicked doctrine corrupts the faith of God, for which Christ was crucified ? He that is thus defiled shall depart into unquenchable fire, and so he that hearkens unto him.” He warns the Philadelphians against those who preach the Jewish law, and adds, “ For it is better to receive the doctrine of Christ from one that has been circumcised, than Judaism from one that has not. But if either the one or the other do not speak concerning Jesus Christ, they seem to me to be but as monuments and sepulchres of the dead, upon which are only written the names of men. Flee therefore the wicked arts and snares of the prince of this world, lest at any time being oppressed by his cunning, ye grow cold in your love.” It is evident that he had to combat against various kinds of corrupters of the word of life, and particu¬ larly also against those who opposed the ground of our salvation, the reality of the incarnation, suffer¬ ings, and death of God our Saviour. These held, that our blessed Lord did not take on him true flesh, nor suffered really, but only in appearance, and their principles led them to all looseness and libertinism. With a view to this horrible heresy, which, with many others, began to show their heads in the east, he writes to the Smyrnasans, (( I have observed that you are settled in an immoveable faith, as if you were nailed to the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, both in the flesh and in the spirit; and are confirmed in love through the blood of Christ; being fully per¬ suaded of those things which relate unto our Lord, who truly was of the race of David according to the 71 flesh, but the Son of God according to the will and power of God; truly born of the virgin and baptized of John, that so all righteousness might be fulfilled by him. He was also truly crucified by Pontius Pilate, and Herod the tetrarch, being nailed for us in the flesh; by the fruits of which we are, even by his most blessed passion, that he might set up a token for all ages through his resurrection, to all his holy and faithful servants, whether they be Jews or Gentiles, in one body of his church. cc Now all these things he suffered for us, that we might be saved. And he suffered truly, as he also truly raised up himself: and not as some unbe¬ lievers say, that he only seemed to suffer, they them¬ selves only seeming to be. And as they believe, so shall it happen unto them; when being divested of the body they shall become mere spirits. Though the church at Antioch, and throughout all Syria, certainly rejoiced at his being still left among them, as one who fed the church of God which he had purchased with his own blood; and he rejoiced greatly himself, when the persecution abated, at the tranquillity of his church; yet he was troubled as to himself, that he had not been thought worthy to suffer for his Lord, as though he had not attained to a true love of Christ, nor was come up to the pitch 77 of a perfect disciple. Continuing therefore some years longer with his church, as a faithful and ap¬ proved shepherd, he at length attained to the summit of his wishes. Trajan, in the nineteenth year of his empire, com¬ ing from his conquest of the Scythians and Dacians, and many other nations, looked upon it as needful to the rendering his dominion absolute and univer¬ sal, to subdue the spirit of the Christians, and oblige them “ to worship the devil, with all other nations.” The persecution was renewed; and fear came upon the Christians, as they must either sacrifice or die. On this account our valiant soldier of Jesus Christ, being in fear for the church of Antioch, and hoping thereby to avert the storm, was voluntarily brought before Trajan, who was then at Antioch in his way to Armenia and the Parthians, against whom he was hastening. Being come into the presence of Trajan, the em¬ peror said unto him, What a wicked wretch art thou, thus to endea¬ vour to transgress our commands, and to persuade others also to do the like, to their destruction ! Ignatius answered: No one ought to call Theo- phorus after such a manner: forasmuch as all wicked spirits are departed far from the servants of God. But if because I am a trouble to these evil spirits, you call me wicked, with reference to them, I con¬ fess the charge: For having within me Christ the heavenly King, I dissolve all the snares of those devils. Trajan replied: And who is Theophorus? 78 Ignatius. He who has Christ in his breast. Trajan. And do not we then seem to thee to have the gods within us, who fight for us against our enemies? Ignatius. You err in that you call the evil spirits of the heathen gods; for there is but one God, who made heaven and earth, and the sea, and all that are in them: and one Jesus Christ his only begotten Son; whose kingdom may I enjoy ! Trajan. His kingdom you say, who was cruci¬ fied under Pontius Pilate ? Ignatius. His, who crucified my sin, with the inventor of it, and has put all the deceit and malice of the devil under the feet of those who carry him in their heart. Trajan. Dost thou then carry him that was cru¬ cified within thee? Ignatius. I do; for it is written, C£ I will dwell in them and walk in them.” Then Trajan pronounced this sentence against him: 66 Forasmuch as Ignatius has confessed that he carried about within himself Him that was crucified, we command that he be carried bound by soldiers to Great Rome, there to be thrown to the beasts, for the entertainment of the people.” When the holy martyr heard this sentence, he cried out with joy, Messengers of the Churches. DAMAS, ) ROMAN CHRISTIANS. Two PHILOSOPHERS. CLAUDIUS, a Soldier. Other SOLDIERS. DIRCE, Deaconess of Antioch. CATECHUMENS. PENITENTS. } Deacons. E * * ,iM • J s • > l J lo ■ . . iy It 1 fe:' A'l\ ♦ ) r t j • . L , .1. . ,,v3 ■ . : t . ■:. >. . , B t • . «■•■, . 1.... ■. i . i- ... ■■) *: • • • - « -J- >■*. A * . Jt ( v.*.U ; ... . ' . . ■■ ' .. ■ . ~ .■ . . . ; ■■ . . . «. * , f »V *. J. - ‘ THE MARTYRDOM OF ST. IGNATIUS. Antioch. —An open place before Ignatius’ door. PHILO, AGATHOPUS. * % PHILO. Thou knowest, Agathopus, what threats of late Trajan has breath’d against the Christian name: Death is their doom, who shall refuse the woiship And rites appointed of the Gentile gods. Thus he pronounced when warm with Scythian con¬ quests. Impetuous still from that campaign, he’s now At Antioch. But ’tis casual impulse guides The mind of man: his new exploit of arms (For now he looks to Parthia) may take up His total fervour, nor permit to fall This nearest thunder hanging o’er our heads. By this, or some diviner bar, can God 100 Even yet between bis helpless servants stand And the black day ‘AGATHOPUS. -A glorious day, O Philo, When persecution low’rs! I call it sunshine, Which quickens the dull bosom of the church To bold productions, and a bloom of virtues. Yes, such a worthy juncture I much long for, When Christian zeal, benumbed and dead thro’ ease, Glows with young life, feels the more copious flow Of ghostly aids; and, as the dangers rise, Heightens its pulse, and fills up all its greatness. Then is the time of crowns; of grants profuse (Complete remission, open Paradise, With power to intercede for common souls,) To generous motives of intenser duty, Which, while the sufferer sees, serene and glad Pie thanks the impious hand that helped him forward. PHILO. Even there, methinks, there’s something to deject me. Must I obtain my glory by the guilt Of other men, of no less lovely make Original, and offspring of one God ! This thought may damp whom death itself invites: Besides, I wish not trials, since I know not Who then shall stand. AGATHOPUS. Whoever loves his Lord ! Whoever hath contemplated the cross, 101 And felt the death of Christ through all its meaning: Through all its benefits, through all its charms,— He, reconciled to pain, and far removed From this world’s foreign false felicities, Carries devoted blood, which, more than ready, Pants to be spilt upon its Master’s grave. The hypocrite will shrink: but highly welcome That edge of danger which pares off such members. PHILO. I think the love of Christ need not imply Such blunt importunate desire of death. AGATHOPUS. Recall the unworthy thought! and search thy heart, My Philo; for I fear these sober minds Have worldly lusts at bottom. Haply fame And popular favour make thy lot too sweet ? PHILO. I own ’tis sweet to love, and to be lov’d By all Christ’s people; it may richly comfort This mortal state; and could it rise so high, That, from this source, irregular attachment To life should spring, I’d argue back and say ’Twas not irregular, for here ’twas heaven. Fame, if it shone, my frailties keep me cool. AGATHOPUS. Does not the specious luxury detain thee Of worldly peace and soft unruffled ease ? 102 PHILO. No: I still see all my concerns below Hang by a dubious thread. Am I calPd forth To action or to suffering, I can meet From no enervate rest the stronger shakings Of this rough world. AGATHOPUS. Once more; perhaps the cause Is woman; powerful to bring back to earth Even towering souls, and kindle up afresh The light, the taste, the system of old nature. PHILO. In vain you seek the cause, my jealous friend, Why I love life. A thing you little guess How far I am from loving ! Who indeed Whose soul has any fire, can take delight In such a blind existence; which ties down These seraph minds t’attend a dull machine, To feed and doze, rejoice and fret the same With animals ? which now by sanguine hope, Ideas gay, illuminates all o’er The credulous heart; and then with strange surmise And grief mysterious so envelopes all, That wisdom doubts, though ’tis indeed one thing, Or to despise, or use, and balance both. I have so little footing in this life Firm to my thoughts, that it could not support me To live out one day more, did I not look To reasons in the depths of providence; 103 For I must own, Agathopus, I think, These things are not in vain: Our Maker’s hand Hath placed some virtue in this earthly process, To work us in the end surprising good. AGATHOPUS. O Philo, from the cross of Christ alone Derive thy good ! His church is a new world, Where all thy fate and all thy business lie. And since thou’rt cold about a speedy passage Into thy Master’s joy, I must at least Question thy Christian hope. Feel’st thou the pledge Of blessed resurrection ? Does thy heart Within thee leap to meet the last great scenes? PHILO. Though well persuaded that these sins of mine, Incumbrances so massy to the zeal Of a whole mortal life, will ne’er resist When the great Father shall one day shine forth, Restoring exiled man; yet scarce I dare Connect myself and glory in one thought: I do but cast me in the crowd of beings On God’s broad mercy, as a mighty tide Bearing its peevish offspring safe to harbour. AGATHOPUS. I understand thee, Philo, and mayest thou Now understand how far below the gospel Thy soul consents to dwell. The friends of Christ Don’t strive with sin, but trample under foot It’s poor exploded antiquated strength. 104 < They don’t rely on some benign event From the wide wheel of things, but pierce directly Where Jesus now admits them, and ordains Their thrones in bliss: Hence they in spirit stand, Free from all spot, amidst the train of heaven, And see God’s face, whose full and constant smile Doth so attend them through the wilds of life, That natural dejection, flitting fears And all vicissitude is swallowed up In one still dawn of that eternal day- But see the reverend bishop coming forth. Enter IGNATIUS. IGNATIUS. I hope, my sons, at this important season No idle talk employed you: Learn betimes With tender sense to bear the church’s burden. But I must praise the place where you have chose Your morning stand. From hence we look around And see so many roofs, where prayer incessant, With mighty thoughts of heart and fervent faith, Is offered up to heaven. Hear Thou, my Lord, Thy people’s voice, and give them peace this day ! AGATHOPUS. Our meditations, father, were the same With yours, about th’ impending persecution. IGNATIUS. And don’t you think it strange, Agathopus, 105 And Philo, ministers and witnesses Of the mere love, and innocent meek life Of Christians, that they should be hated thus ? AGATHOPUS. The laws of Christ condemn a vicious world. And gall it to revenge. o o IGNATIUS. Though that be true, Yet still our human foes are chiefly found Poor instruments t’exert a foreign malice, Whose depth and horror is beyond the heart Of silly flesh and blood. That ancient rival Of God’s dear Son pursues the potentate In us his subjects, and retains the nations With all the enchanting sweet and power of evil, To form his wretched pomp and fight his war. When heathen hosts attack’d of old the race Of chosen Israel, ’twas in truth a siege Sustain’d by Jesus in his little fort From the dark legions. Then the outstretched arm But now, the cross must conquer. Tell me therefore As in your ministries you have observed, How would my flock receive that bitter cup ? PHILO. Firm in the faith. AGATHOPUS. Ardent for martyrdom ! I yesterday conveyed to a poor man 106 His dole of public alms : 6i Give me,” said he, 66 But one day’s bread; I hope to want no more.” Husband, and wife, and other friends take leave Each time they’re call’d from one another’s sight, As not to meet till in the world of spirits. When at their work, 66 Fulfil your task,” they cry, “ Poor hands; this drudgery will soon be o’er !” At meals is Scripture read ! They seem to need No earthly food : Is resurrection named ! They loathe it. Children now intelligent Above their years, mark all their father says, Look in his face and cry, “ Shan’t we die too ?” The father in the slumbers of the night Sees a bright angel wave him to the tortures; He cries, 66 1 come!” And when he wakes, he finds His sp’rit half loosened from his mortal prison. The women now think of no ornaments But shackles: Every bosom, weak before, For the grand trial a big soul reserves. Already to the lot of martyrs raised All see each other. Ev’ry face more shining And more august each little threshold seems. IGNATIUS. I’m glad my people are so well prepared. But I’ve a secret hope, that providence Means not so much: the blow of persecution May light indeed, but yet stop short of them. Trajanus is accounted far from cruel. Most gentle in the gen’ral and humane: Perhaps it will content him to chastise Numbers in one. How joyfully should I 107 Buy the flock’s safety with my single danger ! But come, Agathopus, our holy books Must be hid somewhere, for they shall not die. [.Exeunt Ignat . and Agath. PHILO. Reversing thy proposal, O Ignatius, How many lives in Antioch would redeem Thy single breath ! But heaven’s great law, we own, Pleads on thy side: which loves to snatch away The tallest saint, and force his raw dependents. Forsaken branches, to strike root themselves. [Noise without. I know that noise; it is the Emperor’s chariot: He fails not daily on a plain hard by To exercise his soldiers. He went out This morning with the dawn. O let him teach Us to be wise, and wage a better warfare, With vigilance as earnest and unweary’d !— But how is this ? Here’s part of his retinue Bending this way. I’ll stand aside and watch them. Enter SOLDIERS. FIRST SOLDIER. What should these Christians be? Methinks for once I’d see what passes in their meeting. SECOND SOLDIER. Fool! Their meeting’s in the dark, where they commit Adultery, and quaff the blood of infants. 108 FIRST SOLDIER. I cannot think so: they are simple people, Given to fancies, but of no ill meaning. SECOND SOLDIER. Why then should our wise Emperor be so bent Against them ? As he drove through yonder gate, He cast his eye this way. fiC O here,” says he, “ In these black lanes and forlorn skirts of Antioch, The new sect chiefly dwell. In vain do we Give laws to nations, if the dregs of men May thus outbrave us. Though to-day we march Onwards to Parthia, I must crush this evil Before I stir.—Some of you instantly The Christian bishop seek, and bring him to us.” THIRD SOLDIER. But now ’tis time to ask which is his door: And see, here’s one can tell us: Friend, where lives Ignatius ? PHILO. There, the house is just before you. [Exeunt Soldiers . Good shepherd ! Soon his wish was heard. O Lord, Grant him thy strength, and guide what now ensues. [Exit. 109 A Room of State.—Trajan seated and attended — Ignatius brought in by the Soldiers. TRAJAN, IGNATIUS. TRAJAN. W hat art thou, wretch! pushed on by thy ill genius, Not only to oppose my will, nor own The gods of Rome, but other simple souls Inveigle to their ruin ? IGNATIUS. Noble Emperor, I bear (and not in vain, through grace divine) A name of better import than to be Or wretched or demoniac. No, the man Who is Theophorus can ne’er want joy; Is raised above the reach of misery, Is freed from demon’s power—nor only freed, But able to control and scourge the foe. As I with ease their every snare dissolve, Sustained by Christ the heavenly King. TRAJAN. Explain, What mean’st thou by the name Theophorus? IGNATIUS. ’Tis he, whose soul is ever full of God, ’Tis he, who carries Christ within his breast. 110 TRAJAN. And think’st thou that in us no gods reside, Enjoying as we do their aid in battle ? IGNATIUS. * 4. * » Whom you call gods, and misinformed adore, Are demons of the nations. One alone True God there is, who made the earth and sky, And all things in them : and one Jesus Christ, Son of his love, whose kingdom be my portion ! TRAJAN. Thou mean’st the same whom Pilate crucified ? IGNATIUS. ; Him I do mean who crucified my sin, Together with its author; and subdued The realm of darkness, (gladly I repeat What I on this occasion prove and feel) Under their feet who carry him in heart. TRAJAN. So then the Crucified lives yet in thee? IGNATIUS. He does; for thus the gracious promise runs, u In them I’ll walk, and in their hearts I’ll dwell. TRAJAN. Ihus, therefore, I conclude; since this fond man Affirms, with frantic phrase, that still in him Ill The Criminal lives, whom to the cross we doomed, Let him be carried to Imperial Rome, And, worried by wild beasts, divert the people. Ten of our soldiers guard him; and just now Put on his chains. We’ll haste to higher cares. From quelled opinions pass to conquer lands. They put on Ignatius ’ chains. [Exit Trajan. «* - • » ». i t IGNATIUS. Pursue thy glory, Trajan ; I of mine Am now possessed : thanks to my gracious Lord, That for his love and faith in his firm word, I’m bound in irons with the great St. Paul, Am called to sufferings, and can bless the call! The Christians'* place of religious assemblies . The People coming in at the lower end of the place. AGATHOPUS, PHILO. AGATHOPUS. How happy is our office, thus to stand And serve the brotherhood; despatch th* affairs, And by a nearer view admire the graces, Peculiar sentiments, and varied virtue Of thousand lovely souls all taught of God ! Nay, even so often to tell over names 112 And faces marked for glory, gives a pleasure, Like that wherewith the prophet’s angel once Shall pass along, sealing the sons of light. PHILO. I sadly mourn those few whose lapse and frailty Hath razed them from our list: but real seems Their penitence, though scarce fulfilled its period: Shall we propose them to the bishop’s mercy? AGATHOPUS. Yes, at this time, for persecution’s hour The canon supersedes. Now guilty souls, Released from other discipline, have leave To purge their sins in blood; and blushing bear The rank of faithful with them to the dead. Now also the young hearts of catechumens Should be admitted to the Christian voyage; Whose course, soon finish’d, may, perhaps, ne’er know That gradual conflux of temptation’s waves Wliich meets and shakes our common perseverance. But where is Dirce? We must speak with her. PHILO. Yonder she is. AGATHOPUS. Then beckon to her Philo. [Philo beckons , and Dirce comes up to them.'] My sister, this is the last time you’ll see Our gentle bishop; therefore now consider 113 Jf there be any soul under your hand That he may be of use to ? DIRCE. The good bishop Is useful like the day, a general guide And comfort to us in our several paths; But otherwise, there’s none within my charge Wants any more particular ray of light. AGATHOPUS. t •• - w - - J None prone to sadness, or perplexed with doubts ? DIRCE. That case I own is frequent in our sex, From tenderness of frame, and more sincere And close attention to religious cares. But all at present walk in such strong works, And fervent darings of exerted zeal, That there’s no room for scruples or for clouds To gather on the soul. Each softest mind Stands now above its usual lets and fears As in another region; and, collected Into itself, secure of Christ within, Darts with a bolder motion through this life, Nor needs the friend, and breaks through every foe. PHILO. This is a pastor’s joy, when his whole flock So full of Christ, use him for order’s sake As if they used him not. But what’s become Of the designed espousals of Maria, 114 For learning famed, and by Ignatius deemed Pattern of female virtues, with the brother Approv’d of by her ? DIRCE. At this awful time, When both so soon above mortality May be with Christ, they drop, with joint consent Such thoughts, though holy, nor unworthy those Who love the Lord no less, but at more distance Wait to put on the privilege of angels. Maria now breathes her devoted heart In prayer; is far superior to poor hopes From ought beneath the skies. Yet as she saw Worth in that brother, and the grace of Christ Brightening his soul, she does not still disdain The thought of meeting him among blest myriads With some peculiar and immortal friendship. AGATHOPUS. My Dirce, thou hast been for several years A faithful leader of the lambs of Christ; And many souls, by thy maternal voice, In the hard conflict and the wavering hour, Have took the courage to cast off this world: Thou mayest expect, if any female blood Is shed, it will be thine. DIRCE. Welcome the day! I think I have some blood about my heart, Though cold and withered in this outward frame, That would not shun to be poured out for Jesus. 115 PHILO. Behold the people in great numbers present. AGATHOPUS. I’ll speak to them.—My brethren and my sisters, To your respective places. You shall hear Once more the good Ignatius. With much pain He has the guard’s consent—O ! here he is. Enter IGNATIUS, guarded by the SOLDIERS. IGNATIUS. I thank you for your gentleness, my keepers! My speech is first to you, and if there’s here Any beside, a stranger to our faith. Here ’tis we meet; and you shall hear our doctrine, Which, as you truly say, is mostly taught In corners. But this secrecy, not guilt, But meekness that would not offend, persuades. Our holy purpose and our pure assembly Fears not the light, but asks a fuller light Than this weak world can see by. That great day Which is revealed in fire, and in the blaze Of highest truth and reason, shall approve What we poor worms have acted in this place, And angels, who are fixed attendants here, When they report in language of their world, The hymn, the prayer, the fellowship of saints, It sounds nor crime nor folly. True it is, We differ somewhat in our form of life 116 From other men : and singularity, If needless and fantastic, has no comfort When public hatred frowns. Nor would that scheme Deserve the stress of suffering zeal, whose worth Lay in fine notions; but could not relieve With real strength the labouring heart, nor alter, By operation deep, our wretched being. But if, by seal of God and true experience Of some few happy souls, a doctrine stands Commended, as the medicine of our nature, Which every seed of woe subdues within : Then, sure, amidst the anger of sick minds, Amidst all dangers of the friendly teacher, It must be taught. And such is our religion, Great in itself by solid gifts of grace; It’s lovely secret healthful to mankind. This we hold forth, couched under decent rites, Which, while you look upon as singular, Are used with social heart. For thus we think You now idolaters do darkly mean The God we serve, and will, with vast relentings, Discover him at last.- SOLDIERS. Old man forbear ! You’ve liberty to speak, but not disparage The Emperor’s religion. IGNATIUS. Now to you, Beloved in Christ, I turn. I have asserted What you’ll attest, that as by proper laws 117 And many special customs, we are severed A chosen body from the world about us : So the distinction well is justified By inward graces and peculiar bliss Within this body felt. Are there not here Men who can say, in soberness and truth, That guilt is done away, and innocence Fearless and free restored within their breasts? That vice with dark inextricable bands No more detains, nor drives to acts of shame The blushing, reasoning, reluctant mind; That for the passions which by turns inspire The worthless life of nature, anger, sloth, And avarice, and pride, pure love prevails, Kindled by heaven, nor by a bad world quenched ? That they have inwardly exchanged their climate, And passed from death to life; so that their heart, Healed and exulting from its deep recess, Returns this answer: That the power of evil, The sting of pain, and terrors of the grave, Are now no more; or but at distance rage In faithless minds; while not a dart can reach Their citadel of peace in Jesus’ love? That they, in short, to God’s paternal face And firm affection can appeal and look, Nor earthly griefs dare intercept the prospect; But still to every want they feel as men, To every priestly charitable prayer They breathe as saints of God; his ear and power Are nigh: till thus, by constant use and proof Of aid celestial, heaven is more than earth i 118 Their home, the country of their heart and com¬ merce ? If thus it is, and has been felt amongst us, What can I say but this, Value and keep Your happiness in Christ! Weak are my words To teach whom he enlightens. Glad I am, However, that his love has fired my tongue To bear such witness to his grace and blood, As moved you oft to make a deeper search Into that mystery : till a glance from Him, Fraught with the thing itself, left you and me Happy and dumb before our bounteous Lord As I now am. O Jesus, thou art all! AGATHOPUS. Father, the penitents with tears beseech you To think of them before you go. IGNATIUS. Poor Men ! Let them draw near; declare the truth, my Sons. To leave the loving Saviour, is it not A bitter thing ? Is it not worse than death ? Have you enjoyed one easy hour by all That human wealth or wisdom could do for vou, J J While wretchedly by sin cut off from Him And from his people’s fellowship ? PENITENTS. O no ! Through deserts we have walked, and found no rest. 119 IGNATIUS. Then may you find it now ! May our good Lord Shine forth again with healing aspect on you ! Be as you were before with him and us ! Only remember, that the life of faith Loses in joy and lustre by each fall, Although the substance be retrieved. PENITENTS. Dear Saviour, Receive us to the meanest of thy mansions ! . PHILO. The catechumens too your pleasure wait. IGNATIUS. Come hither ye, whom from an evil world The name of Jesus draws ! you count him sweet, And great, and mighty, by that glimmering light Your novice minds have gained. You venerate That full acquaintance, and that vital union Whereby the faithful know him: And to this You now aspire. But can you then let go Your manly wisdom, and become as babes To learn new maxims, and the mind of Christ ? Can you forsake your former ease and sunshine T’ associate with a poor afflicted people, The scorn of all mankind ? Can you the weight Of your whole souls, with all your hopes of God, Rest on a long past action; and that such As your Lord’s mystic but opprobrious death; 120 % Or on events which visionary seem, A resurrection, and some second world? Can you such gratitude and sov’reign love Contract for One, who but with grace unseen Assists you inwardly; that for His sake You’ll crucify your flesh, curb your own will, And nothing but his servants be in life ? Dare you henceforward undertake these things ? CATECHUMENS. We have considered them, hnd by God’s help We dare. IGNATIUS. Then you shall soon, by sacred rites, Among us he admitted: and meanwhile, If dear and blessed you account this day, Sing your first praises to your Master’s honour. CATECHUMENS SING: O thou, who dost lead each ignorant lamb Of thy royal flock in Wisdom’s bright ways, Enable thy children, close knit in thy name, Thee, Christ, friend of weak ones, with pure hearts to praise Tliou art the great Word, and wisdom of God, The Saviour of souls; o’ercome by thy charms Even hearts cold and hopeless, deep sunk in sin’s flood, A taste of thy sweetness soon raises and warms. Be therefore our prince, our glory and guide; Thy steps are the path to virtue and bliss! Who drink of thy Spirit, and in thee confide, Their works are all comely, there’s nothing amiss. m Grant us in tliy word and grace so to grow, That more solid praise to thee we may sing ; In life and in doctrine incessantly show Our whole heart is justly given up to our King. To God’s holy Child, so strong to redeem, By us, who through grace, his likeness do bear, Be glory for ever, while rooted in Him, A people of prudence and peace we appear! AGATHOPUS. Now stand among the brethren, and partake What further shall he said. {Cat, and Pen. stand amoiig the Brethren. IGNATIUS. If any church Is more obliged than others to maintain The purity of faith, the flame of love, And search the perfect meaning of the gospel, ’Tis ours, where first began the name of Christians. That name is much adorned by due demeanour To those without; with meekness of strong minds, Bearing whate’er in blindness they shall do To grieve us; nor rejecting government, Or ought that’s wise or good in this world’s course; But above all, that blessed knot be kept Of peace and love within ourselves. ’Tis this Detains our Lord among us; who departs Soon, like the soul, from torn dissevered limbs. While this continues, Satan shall not find Room to infuse his mischief; nor shall I Be wanted; you will all support and build F 122 Each other up. Be jealous then that nought, Plenty, nor fame, nor gifts of grace, be sweet To any, but in common with his brethren. Christ in each other see and serve: nor let Suspicions or resentments rise betwixt you. But one word more: Sacred, you know, with us, Domestic order is and decency; Let those who should obey and learn, submit Most gladly so to do, their easier lot; Those who should teach and govern, as for Christ, Dispassionate and prudent, fill their place. Go thus through life, where poverty and toil / .< ; t In meanest occupation you must suffer, (And well you may with Christ within) if not The fiery trial. But our Lord will see, While you cleave to him, how to lead you on. In his great name I leave my blessing with you ! Philo, Agathopus, you’ll go with me. AGATHOPUS. We humbly thank you, father. PHILO. But you, brethren, Bear on your heart your pastor’s love, and strive, If in life’s easy common road you live, Yet still proportionably strong to feel The truths for which he goes his blood to spill! [ Exeunt . 123 Smyrna. —An outer Chamber in Polycarp's House . IGNATIUS guarded by SOLDIERS. IGNATIUS. This is the mansion of good Polycarp, Disciple with me once of blessed John; He’s indisposed, or he had run to meet me. Sweet interview I hope for, if these leopards Will but permit. Harsh have they been to me: Do thou, O Lord, return it on their heads In soft converting grace. I’ll speak to them. Did you observe, my friends, what past at sea ? FIRST SOLDIER. We are not senseless: yes, there was a storm Which lustily employed the skilful hands Of our brave sailors. IGNATiUS. But are you aware Of that good providence and power divine Which saved you in the roughest hour of danger, That now at ease you might admire his love ? SOLDIER. This is your way, ye moralizing sect! On every sight, or accident in life, You introduce your God, your mystery; As if all life were some religious thing. 124 Then you rip up our faults; yet can’t retain The air of masters long: for when we show Our just resentment, you, like silly slaves, Tamely digest both mockery and blows. IGNATIUS. May you in time know from what fund of soul All this proceeds; what energy within Makes us-— SOLDIER. Old man, we are not thy disciples, But keepers; save thy voice for them that seek it. IGNATIUS. Then my request will suit your inclinations. Shall I have leave, while we abide at Smyrna, T’ associate with a brother in this place ? SOLDIER. Yes, in our eye. But we shall cut you short Amidst your chat and solemn pageantry Of sighs, and prayers, and songs, and sentences, So tedious when you meet. For soon at Rome The sports come on, and we must bring the bishop Where a thronged audience will as usual wait His looks and gesture; likely now to yield Humane for once, some pleasure to mankind. Go to your friend and place us in some corner. 125 An inner Chamber.—Polycarp sitting at one end — Ignatius goes up to him—Soldiers retire to the other end of the room. IGNATIUS, POLYCARP. IGNATIUS. How is my friend? Feels he the mortal part Oppress the fervent soul ? POLYCARP. Not much, my brother, ’Tis but a slight disorder, and my Saviour Is doubly careful to support within My weary heart with pledges of his love. IGNATIUS. I little thought, dear Polycarp, again To see thy face. POLYCARP. Full many rounds indeed Have time, and human things, and human thoughts Gone through, since we before sat thus together. IGNATIUS. We then were younger, but not otherwise Much different: for the whirlpool of blind passion Was, from the first, no element of ours. 126 POLYCARP. Just as we launched into a dangerous world God sent us a good pilot. IGNATIUS. So he did. I often think, and shall to my last breath, Of the last hours we spent with that great man. POLYCARP. Is it partiality, or is it insight Into the system of a dear friend’s conduct, That makes each little thing, he says or does, Speak more to us, than others are aware of? But so it is. I see the holiness Of John, not only in his elevations That struck mankind, but even where he seemed T’ express the human and the frailer side. Thus in his playing, to unbend the mind With a tame partridge, there’s a tacit slur On mortal care, as if he said, 66 Be easy, Your projects and this play meet in a point.” So when old man, for lack of memory And matter, as it seemed, he oft repeated One lesson, ALL. All glory be to God and to the Lamb 1 POLYCARP. Yea, praise to Him accessible and mild, Who keeps no state with a returning child : But free ordaining him an heir to day Y Of all his wealth, accelerates the display. > Like the great ocean, when some dam gives way. j Let never narrow hearts the haste arraign Of Jesus to relieve a sinner’s pain: He knows what is in man, nor to his art Are chaos and creation far apart. There’s but a word between! Be that word given. The sinful soul shall be a saint of heaven: And with his Maker pitch his tent more sweet, More firm, with these dark clouds beneath his feet. The outer Chamber of Polycarp’s House . AGATHOPUS, PHILO. AGATHOPUS. The hour approaches, when the messengers Of Asia’s churches, who have been already Once with Ignatius, promised to return. 139 PHILO. They’ll be here soon: we’ll tarry to receive them. .A GATH OPUS. I never saw a sight more venerable, Or that gave higher thoughts of something real In Christian faith and love, than when choice men From different congregations of this province, Met all at Smyrna but to see our martyr. PHILO. Some of them please me much. AGATHOPUS. Yes, there’s Onesimus, Bishop of Ephesus, all over love And tenderness to souls. PHILO. None strikes me more Than the Magnesian chief, Damas, I think, A bishop in his youth. There’s a fine soul Within that man. AGATHOPUS. Not to forget the grave Polybius of Tralles, wise and plain. PHILO. Our different likings are not now so fierce. 140 AGATHOPUS. No, Philo, we are one ! I lay me under Thy spirit, like the ground thou tread’st upon And would give up whate’er I have to purchase One feature of the soul I so misjudged. PHILO. Honest Agathopus, still thou art fervent! There is no cause for that. Thou hast thy path, And that as much more excellent than mine As the bright sun excels the sickly moon. For all the strong in faith, who snatch the prime Of gospel grace, and it’s meridian fires, Are thine; while I th’ inglorious crowd befriend, Who creep benighted in the rear of hope. AGATHOPUS. Ay, Philo, you were always mild to sinners. I hardly ever saw one reconciled, But my heart blamed the condescending terms. But ’twas not so last night. Were I in glory, I could have plucked the crown from my own head To put it on the soldier’s. PHILO. Thou wast never Stained with foul crimes, Agathopus, but I Have been a deep offender, and can yearn Over a loathsome lazar like myself. I never told thee how I was converted: Cilicia was my native land. My father, Too fond and easy, put it in my power 141 To pamper every taste: he found his error: And scarce reproving me, he let me see He died for grief. This was reproof indeed To me who dearly loved him; and ne’er felt (That I must say) even in the life of sin, Harsh passions. Much I thought of leaving life, But left the place where I had killed a parent. After some wandering, I, in anguish still, Returned to Tarsus. The good bishop there Set forth the cleansing virtue of Christ’s blood; 1 went to hear him; for I was so dead To all this world, I now ne’er shunn’d reproach. Then first my soul conceived a glimmering hope; I saw a greater Father had been grieved, But well for me ! so great he could remit The complication of impieties. I was baptized, chose deacon, came to Antioch On business, where Ignatius asked to keep me. AGATHOPUS. Whate’er thou wast, O Philo, heretofore, I see thee now a saint, and born of God: Yea, since mine eyes are open, I discover Thy daily acts and spirit of thy life Have all the principles, though not the pomp Of high perfection and a light divine; And, like an expert swordsman, thou dost more By slow, and smooth, and unsuspected motions, Than I perhaps with all my brandishes. PHILO. I think not so, my friend! ’Tis men like you, 142 That must support Christianity. The reasons Of that admitted once, require thenceforth A constant ardour, an exerted soul Still on the wing with some ecstatic warmth. If e’er this fails, men of my turn, who now Make no unpleasing discord to the gospel, (For ’tis a discord) lost in stronger numbers Of you, who still bear up the genuine sound: If e’er I say, your brave and worthy voices Shall under ours subside, we shall invent Some foreign harmony, and cast off’ Christ’s. But I would hear what work of God has past Upon thy soul, Agathopus. AGATHOPUS. I was At Antioch born, and bred by Christian rules; And ne’er defiled with so much outward sin, As with due emphasis might show the need I had of Jesus, and endear his blood. Yet, by one comprehensive glance, did God Teach me the truth of things. I had one morning Kneeled down to prayer, my most delightful task: When all at once a crowd of horrid thoughts, Fraught with the images and rankest venom Of all the vices that ever man committed, Broke in upon my soul. I was amazed To see myself from every shape of good, Where I had built my rest, immensely back, As on some desert island thrown, where seemed No hopes of succour. But the Saviour came, And with his splendour brightened all the place. 143 Redeemed 1 was from real sin; and felt Both those quick terrors, and that great deliverance In comfort as intense, which lie beneath A gospel we so indolent enjoy. PHILO. Blest must you be, and always nigh to Christ, While you preserved this light. AGATHOPUS. All souls must do so. Our freshest memory still must hold before us The wonder and true joy of that first hour, When fear and sin, to hope and innocence, By clear, by firm, though sudden steps were changed, So shall we ever praise the power of Christ, Which grants this leave and mystic privilege To us, so rotten in ourselves, to stand Free now from every spot of human follies- There’s some one coming in. PHILO. ’Tis only Claudius. Poor soul! he hangs upon us, and can scarce Bear to be stationed with his brutish fellows. Enter CLAUDIUS the Soldier. CLAUDIUS. My dearest brethren ! how shall I express What our good Lord does for me ! night and day 144 I find him with me, and He shows me still Fresh wonders ! What a thing is Jesus’ love ! Soft is my heart as infant’s flesh; yet able Like adamant or steel, to stand the shock Of death and hell, and cut its way through all. There’s something in me, moment after moment, Spreading and rising like a tree of life: I follow it, and scarce feel the ground I tread on. I’m wholly Christ’s! But how can I be his, O tell me, in a soldier’s rough profession ? Must I kill men ? PHILO. You mean, must you not love them ? Yet you’re a member of this world, whose process Involves even us in many things.-But see, The deputies are coming. CLAUDIUS. I’ll retire. {Exit Claudius. Enter ONESIMUS, POLYBIUS, DAMAS, with other Messengers of the Churches . ONESIMUS. Again we come to wait on good Ignatius. Is he at leisure ? PHILO. I’ll go in and see. {Exit Philo. 145 AGATHOPUS. Then he is talked of in your several countries. ONESIMUS. .• ... We all admire so bright a character. AGATHOPUS. What if, like us, you ever at his side Had seen his life and conduct ? DAMAS, ♦ / . ; ... ... ■ i. 1 ' * - ' * • ' • You were happy. We come from far, and don’t repent the labour, But once to taste the graces of his spirit. . \ . . . V X • •' - AGATHOPUS. He was a man so pure in private life, So all-devoted to the things above, So mere a servant both of Christ and men ; You’d say he acted without spark of nature, Save that each motion flowed with ease and beauty. Then such a pastor was he, so intent To guard from errors and build up in Christ (In wisdom, innocence, and unity) Each simple soul; so gentle too therein, No heart but blest itself it had a father. How would bemoan when any persecution Threatened the flock ! and (which in him was great) Rejoice at its removal; though thereby Debarred himself from all his wish on earth. He’d say, when fell Domitian’s rage gave o’er, G 146 44 Now I shall never be a true disciple, And die for Christ !” POLYBIUS. Glad would I hear more of him, Pattern of bishops ! But lo, Philo comes. Re-enter PHILO. PHILO. Ignatius, honoured Elders, now attends you. The Inner Chamber . IGNATIUS and POLY CARP —Enter to them ONESIMUS, POLYBIUS, DAMAS, —PHILO and AGATHOPUS. ONESIMUS. We told you in the morning, blessed man, What sorrow and what warmth your holy bonds Spread through the churches. They could do no less Than send us to salute you; and to knit, By all th’ advantage of this dread occasion, Our common love; and enter as we can Into the hope and might of Jesus with you. IGNATIUS. To love me they did well: for much I want 147 The kind assistance of each Christian soul. I hope all give it me. Pray for me, brethren ! POLYBIUS. We do. DAMAS. May nothing, when the time shall come Blemish thy combat ! IGNATIUS. Ay, that prayer was right For I have weakness still, and ghostly foes Which fight against me and my resolution. Heaven knows, I am a sinner ! and deserve To die more deaths than one on that account. What favour then, O Lord, that wretched flesh Shall honour thee, while sinking to its dust! ONESIMUS. We wait upon you now, to know your will And orders to the churches: since to-morrow You sail to Rome; and we, alas ! return, Not worthy yet of chains, to our own flocks. IGNATIUS. See, I have writ some hasty letters for you To carry back. And give my humble thanks To every congregation. [Servant appears at the door POLYCARP. Who is there ? 148 Letters from Antioch for you, Ignatius. \_Ignatius reads letters . IGNATIUS. Dirce is dead, Agathopus ! I find, One of the heathens passing in the tumult, When we went off, struck her as’t were in sport, And her glad soul took flight. The news that follows I can’t conceal from you, my reverend brethren: All things at Antioch, by our Saviour’s care, Are quiet now again : so tell the churches. Were it not well if each would send some brother To greet my flock upon the mercy shown them? But still poor orphans, there’s no bishop chosen: Think of them Polycarp. POLYCARP. Your care, as pastor, Shall leave its due impression on my breast. For that be easy. And since now are met Such distant bishops, presbyters, and deacons, Well representing th’ universal church, Let me suggest employment for this evening. IGNATIUS. What is it ? POLYCARP. You, Ignatius, as our Lord Will give you light, shall hint some general cautions Tending to keep the church through every age 149 From such corruptions as may hurt the plan, Or cloud the purity it yet retains. n IGNATIUS. ■) With all my heart. Thou friend of souls direct us ! And ever guide all those on whom the charge, The sacred charge of thy great mystery (God in the flesh, saving by precious faith Poor sinners) shall devolve in future times! Long have I feared, there is a depth of Satan, Which, from pretences fair, and warm pursuit Of real parts, but not the proper centre Of truth and holiness, will circumvent The church at last. Strange the extremes would seem, To which this well-poised soundness of our system By partial aggravations may be wrought: But worse, if possible, and more deplored That infidel indifference which succeeds them. For when so oft bewildered and deceived, A general fastidious indolence Fixes the mind, ’tis hard to move it more. I calculate the fates of Christian faith By dispositions in the make of men. Three sorts I have observed. For some there are Severe and solemn, like the Pharisees, Allured by pomp and form. Some are again Of fine and tender mould, and urge the path Like Essenes,* of a rapturous devotion. * There were three chief sects of the Jews: the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes. Of the two first, frequent mention is made in the gospels. The last made less noise, and seemed, at 150 And lastly, some (well turned for human life, But the most fatal, when their day shall come, To our religion) sit like Sadducees, Cool moderators of their brethren’s fires; Their mark and inspiration common sense. The first and last of these, as with the Jews, May, in their turn, command the public stream. The third have some eruptions more retired. ONESIMUS. Be pleased to show by what unhappy steps Each of these spirits may deface the gospel. IGNATIUS. First, let me mention what is the great centre And heart of it: which while it moves within, And actuates, whatever outward frame Of man’s ideas, still there is one life, Rich life wide ranging through varieties. For have not we, even now, those several tastes Amongst us? Yet hereby all sanctified. Your conscious souls prevent me while I point The anchor of your calling. ’Tis a faith Depending only on the blood of Christ, And nothing of our own, from first to last. the time of our Lord’s walking on earth, not to be so numerous, though they increased considerably afterwards. They maintained the resurrection of the body against the Sadducees; they were very devout and abstemious, but avoided the ostentation of the Pharisees; they did not swear, they excommunicated those who did not walk orderly, and they were much given to fasting and contemplation. 151 This keeps us now in great simplicity: For happy here, we lay no eager weight On other things, but use them in their place. Posterity, I fear, will fail here soon, For thus, in nakedness of faith to hang, Amidst whate’er we do, or know, or have, On foreign aid and merit; nor permit Nature to say, she’s owner of one thing: This is an edge so fine, ’t will turn and warp; The more, because a raw and novice world Will not be tender of it; having still So many other plausible resorts, That court the fancy, and are Christian too: As influx of the Spirit, ceremonies, And morals (to who list to see no more) Of Christian law. Each several taste now lapsed, Of course pursues, adorns some one of these. The soft, contemplative, and Essene genius Both makes the noblest choice, and does least harm. DAMAS. I long to hear you paint the cause of that. IGNATIUS. What ghostly energy and mystic life Do we now feel within ! We have this jewel; Yet on its radiance do not choose to gaze Directly, but with humble hand hold fast The casket where it lies, Faith in Christ’s blood. But as the knowledge of that tenure fails, Each warm devotionist will strive to fix The now departing Shekinah by nice 152 Though impotent descriptions; will reduce All to a science, and to each attainment Prescribe a way of art and false ambition. See you how this may be ? DAMAS. I see too plain The Spirit’s self on Jesus may be made T’ encroach. IGNATIUS. But this is light to what ensues. We highly value now our solemn rites, Symbols of love, and our Lord’s protection: And much we press obedience to the pastor. But O, what I foresee may flow from this In a dark age; when interest on one hand, And on the other childishness of thought And Pagan gloom, for superstition ripe, Will by our use confirm that iron yoke ! The clergy will be lords, and endless forms Hide from the church her Saviour’s face. POLYBIUS. Alas, That ordinances in his name begun Should cease to preach Him only to poor souls ! IGNATIUS. «. < « « r ' ’ *• ' The worst is yet to come. When Christian faith Has worn all weaknesses of the human spirit, And been derided through them, ’twill be deemed 153 Expedient to appoint a jealous guardian, The fire and wild luxuriance to correct Of this strange principle. Low, and more low, By treacherous praise of its own moral precepts, Shall it be brought in all it will persuade Of work from its diviner plan and power, Beyond the measures of mere human life. Till by degrees bold reason recommends Her own unmingled system, nature’s light, And will not suffer on that scheme to hang (Though long but tolerated, like the laws Of conquered countries) the bare name of Jesus. As he had died in vain, with great applause The world rolls back to what it was before. ONESIMUS. O Adam ! Adam ! We no more blame thee: We too have tasted Paradise, and fell, Looked over Jesus to know good and evil. IGNATIUS. I see, my brethren, the last scene I’ve drawn Too much affects you; it drinks up your spirits What shall I say ? ’t won’t be till distant ages. ONESIMUS. Our love extends to all: that’s no relief. IGNATIUS. Why then I have (if I must bring it forth) What will, I’m sure, the present grief expel, G 3 1 54 * Though not as I would wish. Look nearer home: Are Smyrna, Ephesus, Magnesia dear t’ you r ONESIMUS. Dearer than life. IGNATIUS. Then long before this plague Shall overspread the earth, all these your churches Shall lose their Christian glory, scarce retain Savour of Christ, or symbol of their hope, Ravaged and trodden down by infidels. POLYBIUS. Nay then we’re silent! Judgments are to come, And foul apostacies. Let us make haste To die, my brethren, lest the gospel lamp Go out before us. DAMAS. No, recall that word, Howe’er distress or error may deform The spouse of Christ, his love will ever last. And when these storms are o’er, and man’s each passion Hath had its day, its swing and penitence In holy things; then purest light again, The sweet recovered infancy of faith, Shall bless the earth, and introduce that kingdom, Wh ere Christ the King of Peace shall stand con¬ fessed, Admired in all his saints and all his works. 155 POLYCARP. This is the sum, my brethren ! Christ is All: If e’er we lean to other things we fall. Spirit, and rites, and reason too are good, If planted, and if glorying in his blood. Faith is so simple, whence all good doth spring, Mankind can’t think it is so great a thing: Still o’er this pearl steps their ambitious pride Pursuing gladly any form beside. Yet, O good Saviour ! narrow as it is, And delicate, and prone for man to miss, Ne’er be the way shut up to this our bliss ! No, everlasting be thy gospel, Lord, And through all time its saving power adored ! Rome, just without the City.—The City Walls and Gate lying before , and some old Ruins on one hand . TWO PHILOSOPHERS. FIRST PHILOSOPHER. You seem to like this place, as if one step Was precious from the follies of the town: But you look musing. Pray what was the object ? SECOND PHILOSOPHER. Why truly, the poor Christians. For it seems 156 This day, this Thirteenth of the Spectacles, Some noted priest of theirs, a prisoner brought In the last ship, shall be exposed to beasts. FIRST PHILOSOPHER. And are those silly wretches worth a thought ? SECOND PHILOSOPHER. Perhaps worth several, brother. For you know We who seek truth must not be prejudiced. FIRST PHILOSOPHLR. I don’t myself believe the monstrous stories Reported of them; but I think them persons Soft and precipitate to each new whim, And not much us’d to reasoning. SECOND PHILOSOPHER. Be it so. But whence then comes their constancy in suffering, Their more than Roman fortitude of spirit? FIRST PHILOSOPHER. From great enthusiastic warmth. SECOND PHILOSOPHER. , •: • Well said! And will enthusiasm then (with all The decencies of life and civil duty Preserved) make men so generous and heroic ? For whether they be reasoners or no, I’ll give a reason why their sect should stand. 157 FIRST PHILOSOPHER. One would not call in madness to support Even virtue’s self ! Enthusiasm’s no less. SECOND PHILOSOPHER. Here we recur to the first doubt: which was, Whether for those particular opinions, Which thus inspire and heat them, they can show Rational grounds? If so, it is not madness. Man’s scrutiny absolves them, if their lines And general motives, which sustain all round Their faith and conduct, be but rightly drawn : Whate’er within this circle lies of bold, Or fervent, or ecstatic, is referred To impulse of the deity they worship. But ’tis a quality in the whole nature, And separate from the tenet of enthusiasm, Yet I consider. FIRST PHILOSOPHER. What is that ? SECOND PHILOSOPHER. ’Tis joy, The spring of hearty, strong, and graceful actions, What makes all worth, all elegance of wit, Yea all benevolence, but this one feeling, Or from good blood, from sense or ornament, Or casual good humour? Hence in vain Do we philosophers erect such minds, Which can admit none of these genial charms: 158 They sink again. For we infuse but reason : Not glowing health, nor fibres turned to honour; Nor, like the Christian priests, can we convey, A foreign joy more elevating yet, Enthusiasm. FIRST PHILOSOPHER. What you say is just: but still I’d not work up a rapture like those priests, By doctrines so irrational and weak. This joy is not a bad engine of virtue, Had it a good foundation. SECOND PHILOSOPHER. Stop and think ! Is it the movement, which perhaps alone Can raise a lively and ingenuous flow Of virtue, the free blossom of such minds As are already happy; and hath God Left no room, think you, or foundation for it ? FIRST PHILOSOPHER. Yes, you have shown ’tis wove with our complexion. SECOND PHILOSOPHER. That’s not enough; if we such virtue mean, (As sure we do who hold the soul immortal) As looks beyond the use and present lustre Of human life; and hath its great affair With the Divinity, his grace or frown. Here by analogy the rule’s the same; Joy precedes virtue: but it must be joy Upon this state, and in this line of things: 159 The votary must behold his God propitious, Himself admitted as an humble friend : Easy of heart, and confident henceforth; Then will he rise to the great character, By excellence of soul, that ne’er appeared Before this Entheon’s interview with heaven. FIRST PHILOSOPHER. You’ve got into the centre of their first And most obnoxious doctrine (for the other Of some good spirit or divine afflatus Upon the mind may fairly be allowed.) To every proselyte at first admission Full innocence they lend; whate’er his crimes Before have been, he’s white, and free, and just, And equalled with the veterans of virtue, First wears the laurel, then begins the fight. Make this consistent, and I’ll ask no more. SECOND PHILOSOPHER. I think I can. For let us now suppose, He that rejoices, is by force of that Dispos’d for good; and he, who by some glance From the mild deity, triumphs in his love, Moves then to higher good; displays at once, However abject or perverse before, Relenting gratitude and holy worth: If so, one may with virtue be endowed At once. FIRST PHILOSOPHER. But this is rarely seen. 160 SECOND PHILOSOPHER. ' ’Tis true, Yet the objection does not drive me back From wbat benign effects I said would follow On joy divine : but urge me to inquire Why this kind glance is not bestowed on all ? FIRST PHILOSOPHER. That I can tell. Because mankind are under The power of vice. SECOND PHILOSOPHER. That cannot be; for this Is what destroys that power which never melts But at this fire. FIRST PHILOSOPHER. Yet may not ranker vice, Foul with its brutish habits, be in nature A bar to th’ operation? SECOND PHILOSOPHER. Not at all. This joy, if given, does there the very same As in clear minds, it meets the ingenuous springs Of our great soul concealed beneath the rubbish. FIRST PHILOSOPHER. But , tis not given, yourself then tell us why. SECOND PHILOSOPHER. God is a governor; and acts indeed 161 By rules political, and not as we Would trace him still with geometric scale, By mere connections and capacities In physical existence. Hence pure guilt, Debt, and affront, and breach of covenant, Ideas strange to us ! tie up the hand That might, if simple nature were considered, At any moment work all virtues in us. FIRST PHILOSOPHER. If guilt’s the obstacle, then its removal May well be sudden, and all good flow in. The Christians do indeed employ their care On guilt itself; so taught by old tradition Descending from the Jews. And now methinks I can see farther in their scheme. If God Acts as you represent him, and withholds His cheering presence from the human mind On motives politic; then on the like He may restore it. Guilt’s political; Derived external merit is no more. Yet this I thought ridiculous indeed, That they account themselves beloved of God For what another did. SECOND PHILOSOPHER. ’Twas, I suppose. Their Founder. FIRST PHILOSOPHER. Yes. 162 SECOND PHILOSOPHER. Why this is (as you say) Good in the use and equity of state, That to a corporation from its head Merit should pass, and dignity dilated Clothe every branch with honours of the root. And truly, I’ve long looked on this expedient As the most fit and delicately suited To give at once both room for God to bless Nor yet make man or petulant or proud. The late dark sky and images of guilt Keep their reality: but only serve T’ illustrate present safety : as we see The broken weapons, hideous to behold, Brighten and triumph o’er some barbarous land. Man now is happy; but ’tis plain by whom ! Not by himself; the Patron stands before To face the Godhead, and obtain its gifts: He at a distance terminates his care And glad though feeble service pays this Friend, His own, his softer and compendious God. What a sweet passion to this Benefactor; What plain infantile gaiety of heart, And yet what outward greatness of deportment: In short, what a new set of sentiments Would burst from the recesses of the soul, Which would believe itself divine and happy, Through the whole length of ages, and all this By the mere love and wonderful achievement Of One who left such merits once, and still affords His virtual presence to his friends ! 163 All this I do, I must imagine—though I’ll speak no more, lest you should think me Christian. FIRST PHILOSOPHER. Whoe’er thinks me not much their enemy Henceforward, shall not put me to the blush. As for their meetings and their private rules, They’re a society, and so must have them. SECOND PHILOSOPHER. Enough ! Here comes the martyr, we’ll retire. FIRST PHILOSOPHER. We are not worthy now, good man, to stay And join thy train; another time we may. {Exeunt, Enter Ignatius guarded by Soldiers—several Roman Christians accompany him—Agathopus and Philo following after, IGNATIUS, ROMAN CHRISTIANS, &c. IGNATIUS. ’Twas very kind, my brethren, that you came So far to meet us. Had I been permitted, In honour of the steps of holy Paul, I from Puteoli on foot had travelled. 164 Thus far ’tis well ! This is imperial Rome; And I a bishop from the distant East, Now see the countries of the setting sun: I too am come to set ! but rise again In Jesus Christ. ROMAN CHRISTIANS. Are you resolved to die ? We could perhaps induce the people yet Not to require you for their savage sports. IGNATIUS. O don’t attempt it! Ne’er shall I again Have such a gale to waft me to my God. Were I like Paul and Peter, a freed man In Christ, and perfect, to make no such motion, I would command you. I am yet a slave: But do entreat you not to hinder me, For by this death I shall obtain my freedom. ROMAN CHRISTIANS. Are there no motives to persuade your life ? IGNATIUS. No, I have nothing more to do on earth. My loves and my desires are crucified; There’s not a spark of fire or warmth within me To things below: but that same living water Promised by Jesus hath extinguished all. It springs to life eternal in my heart, And calls me onward only to the Father. Tedious to me is corruptible food, 165 And every joy of life. The bread of God I hunger for, the flesh of Jesus Christ: His blood I’d drink; that is, I would be made Immortal with him in the state of love. I do not wish to be one moment longer This man, this dark and miserable being: And though I’m yet alive (you see I am Because I speak) my heart is all on death. ROMAN CHRISTIANS. But ’tis a cruel death that they intend you. IGNATIUS. Let fire, and cross, and troops of ravenous beasts Let tearing, grinding of this total frame, Let every art of pain the devil owns, Come on me, so I but enjoy my Jesus. I am God’s wheat, the lion’s jaw must bruise it. So shall I make clean bread fit to present In God’s high sanctuary. ROMAN CHRISTIANS. But cannot you, O reverend father, be a friend of Christ, And yet continue here? IGNATIUS. O no, I cannot, I can’t be true to the great mystery, The life of faith, while in the world I’m seen. Nothing that can be seen is fully right: And only then I am a good disciple 166 When even my body (though but in the paunch Of a brute beast, and by a change of forms) Is yet withdrawn from this bad world’s inspection. There has one object been disclosed on earth That might commend the place; but now ’tis gone Jesus is with the Father, and demands His members to be there. Him do I seek Who died, who rose for us. In gaining him, I shall be rich enough. Pardon me, brethren ! You must not stand between me and my life, Nor weigh me down when I ascend to God. No, let me now pass upwards to partake Unsullied light, and be what he would have me. No, let me now the passion imitate Of Christ my God. Do any of you feel Him in your heart ? Then you can sympathize. You know my straits, what sacred ties I’m under. ROMAN CHRISTIANS. We’ll not resist you more: God’s will be done. \ IGNATIUS. Pray tell me, keepers, There on our left hand, That mossy fragment of a wall, what is it ? SOLDIER. ’Tis an old burying-place now laid aside. IGNATIUS. Laid aside, said you ? So shall all this world Be soon. Good soldiers, let me lean against it One moment. Brethren, shan’t we pray together? [Ignatius kneeling by the old wall. 167 IGNATIUS. Thanks to thy love, almighty Son of God, Which, o’er the steps of all my life extending, Gave me to know thy name and saving might: And now to taste the bliss of dying for thee. Grant to the churches rest and mutual love, And holy gifts, and lively confidence In thee. Bring on the blessed end of all things. {The brethren whisper and stand up. What is’t, my friends ? ROMAN CHRISTIANS. The sports are just concluding, And you in haste are sent for. IGNATIUS. I am ready, Come soldiers, come Agathopus and Philo ! you, Some of you, friends, keep praying in this place. [.Exeunt Ignat. Sold. Philo and Agath. to the Am¬ phitheatre. Manent some Roman Christians. FIRST ROMAN CHRISTIAN. Who can help praying now ? My very soul Is on the stretch, and busy with her God, About some big request I cannot utter, Nor comprehend. SECOND ROMAN CHRISTIAN. The time of great affliction, Or great suspense is sacred, and exceeds The common bounds of thinking. 168 FIRST ROMAN CHRISTIAN. And of power, For sure, ’till now, I never felt such strength And energy of spirit: flesh and the world No more retard me, than if not in being. I would do something ! Would do any thing ! For some eternal nerves are waked within me, Some strange alacrity, which, if it lasted, Would be the body’s death, and shake it off* Without or puny sickness or a groan. SECOND ROMAN CHRISTIAN. But stop, my brother, let us now be faithful To the good martyr’s orders, and pray for him. FIRST ROMAN CHRISTIAN. I pray too much for words. I pray for all things, All time and all eternity at once, What would you more ? SECOND ROMAN CHRISTIAN. Only to recollect And stand in awful silence here awhile Before our heavenly Master, doing no more But this, to have Ignatius on our heart. FIRST ROMAN CHRISTIAN. Content. THIRD AND FOURTH ROMAN CHRISTIANS. O Lord, be present with thy servants. {They pray some time silently. 169 SECOND ROMAN CHRISTIAN. Now I am forced myself to break the silence. Did you perceive that breath of purer air Which spread a sweet simplicity and calm Over our soul? Indeed the Lord is with us! I fancy this mild signal showed the moment When great Ignatius mounted to the skies. ’Tis so; for see, the deacon comes to tell us. Enter PHILO. PHILO. Christians rejoice ! Your brother is at rest, Safe in the arms of Christ, above the toils And hazards of an earthly pilgrimage. ROMAN CHRISTIANS. The manner of his martyrdom we long To hear. PHILO. ’Twas quickly o’er. Two hungry lions, Kept for him, were let loose with a loud shout, And mingled horror of some softer hearts Through the whole amphitheatre. He first Looked up to heaven, and then let gently fall His eyes to earth, as one whose suit was heard, Nor needed that he should solicit more. And so it was even to a circumstance. He always wished there might, if possible, H 170 Be no remains of his, which we survivors Might stoop to gather, or regard as martyrs. And very few are left (Agathopus And Claudius glean what is) he has his grave Completely in the beasts, the place which he With such particular pleasure destined for it: I saw this pleasure in his looks; and ’twas The last I saw of him: for while he stood As one that would have stroked the grisly brutes, They seized upon him, and devoured him up. Enter AGATHOPUS and CLAUDIUS. ROMAN CHRISTIANS. And did he leave us then no dying words ? PHILO. He scarce had time to speak, yet said something, A word or two, but I could not hear what. AGATHOPUS. I’ll tell you, brethren, what Ignatius said: What his death preaches to you.—Let your life Be hid with Christ. Choke not by worldly care, Or earthly joy, that emanation fair Of Christ’s own mind, the new implanted seed Of Christian holiness: but ever feed And more expand it by the works of love, And following your good instincts from above. For not in vain, or with some low design Were you ingrafted into Christ your vine : 171 But you with him, in whom your whole trust lies, Shall to divine inheritances rise; Stand with Ignatius on that better shore, As dear to Christ as he that went before ! PHILO. Here we disperse. Agathopus and 1 Return to Antioch. Where are you, Claudius, Ordered to be. CLAUDIUS. At Rome. PLILO. Then here you see The brethren you must join with. [Roman Christians giving him the hand. ROMAN CHRISTIANS. Take the pledge Of dearest love and fellowship immortal. CLAUDIUS. My first instructors, by whose friendly voice I learnt to trust in Jesus ! Must I part With you ? AGATHOPUS. Yes, Claudius, and ’tis no great thing. We with these friends must part; both with Ignatius. They ere their thirsty souls had time to know And knit with his; we after a strict union 172 Of many years. With our exterior state ’Tis thus. But Christ within is ever sure, The same in youth and age, at Rome or Antioch. One source of joy to each believing breast, Where we all drink, and live, and meet at last. POEMS AND HYMNS. *■ POEMS AND HYMNS. RELIGIOUS DISCOURSE. To speak for God, to sound religion’s praise, Of sacred passions the wise warmth to raise: T’ infuse the contrite wish to conquest nigh, And point the steps mysterious as they lie; To seize the wretch in full career of lust, And sooth the silent sorrows of the just: Who would not bless for this the gift of speech, And in that tongue’s beneficence be rich ? But who must talk? Not the mere modern sage Who suits the softened gospel to the age: Who ne’er to raise degenerate practice strives, But brings the precept down to Christian lives. Not he, who maxims from cold reading took, And never saw himself but through a book: Not he, who hasty in the mom of grace, Soon sinks extinguished as a comet’s blaze: Not he, who strains in scripture-phrase t’ abound, Deaf to the sense, who stuns us with the sound: But he, who silence loves, and never dealt In the false commerce of a truth unfelt. 176 Guilty you speak, if subtle from within Blows on your words the self-admiring sin: If unresolved to choose the better part, Your forward tongue belies your languid heart: But then speak safely, when your peaceful mind Above self-seeking blest, on God reclined, Feels him at once suggest unlaboured sense. And ope a sluice of sweet benevolence. Some high behests of heaven you then fulfil, Sprung from his light your words, and issuing his will. Nor yet expect so mystically long, Till certain inspiration loose your tongue: Express the precept runs, ce Do good to all Nor adds, ec Whene’er you find an inward call.” ’Tis God commands-: no farther motive seek, Speak or without, or with reluctance speak: To love’s habitual sense by acts aspire, And kindle, till you catch the gospel-fire. Discoveries immature of truth decline, Nor prostitute the gospel-pearl to swine. Beware, too rashly how you speak the whole, The vileness, or the treasures of your soul. If spurned by some, where weak on earth you lie If judged a cheat or dreamer, where you fly; Here the sublimer strain, th’ exerted air Forego; you’re at the bar, not in the chair. To the pert reasoner if you speak at all, Speak what within his cognizance may fall: 177 Expose not truths divine to reason’s rack, Give him his own beloved ideas back, Your notions till they look like his dilute; Blind he must be—but safe him from dispute ! But when we’re turned of reason’s noontide glare, And things begin to show us what they are, More free to such your true conceptions tell; Yet graft them on the arts where they excel. If sprightly sentiments detain their taste; If paths of various learning they have traced ; If their cool judgment longs, yet fears to fix: Fire, erudition, hesitation mix. All rules are dead; ’tis from the heart you draw The living lustre, and unerring law. A state of thinking in your manner show, Nor fiercely soaring, nor supinely low: Others their lightness and each inward fault Quench in the stillness of your deeper thought. Let all your gestures fixed attention draw, And wide around infuse infectious awe; Present with God by recollection seem, Yet present, by your cheerfulness, with them. Without elation Christian glories paint, Nor by fond amorous phrase assume the saint. Greet not frail men with compliments untrue; With smiles to peace confirmed and conquests due There are who watch t’ adore the dawn of grace, And pamper the young proselyte with praise: Kind, humble souls ! They with a right good-will Admire his progress—till he stands stock still. 178 Speak but to thirsty minds of things divine, Who strong for thought, are free in yours to join. The busy from his channel parts with pain, The languid loathes an elevated strain: With these you aim but at good-natured chat, Where all except the love, is low and flat. Not one address will different tempers fit, The grave and gay, the heavy and the wit. Wits will sift you ; and most conviction find Where least ’tis urged, and seems the least designed. Slow minds are merely passive ; and forget Truths not inculcated: to these repeat, Avow your counsel, nor abstain from heat, Lila } Some gentle souls to gay indifference true, Nor hope, nor fear, nor think the more for you : Let love turn babbler here, and caution sleep, Blush not for shallow speech, nor muse for deep; These to your humour, not your sense attend, ’Tis not the advice that sways them, but the friend. Others have large recesses in their breast: With pensive process all they hear digest; Here well-weighed words with wary foresight sow, For all you say will sink, and every seed will grow. At first acquaintance press each truth severe, Stir the whole odium of your character: Let harshest doctrines all your words engross, And nature bleeding on the daily cross. 179 Then to yourself th’ ascetic rule enjoin, To others stoop, surprisingly benign; Pitying, if from themselves with pain they part, If stubborn nature long holds out the heart. Their outworks now are gained; forbear to press: The more you urge them, you prevail the less; Let speech lay by its roughness to oblige, Your speaking life will carry on the siege : By your example struck, to God they strive To live, no longer to themselves alive. To positive adepts insidious yield, T’ ensure the conquest, seem to quit the field : Large in your grants; be their opinion shown : Approve, amend—and wind it to your own. Couch in your hints, if more resigned they hear, Both what they will be soon, and what they are: Pleasing these words now to the conscious breast, Th’ anticipating voice hereafter blest. In souls just waked the paths of light to choose, Convictions keen, and zeal of prayer infuse. Let them love rules; till freed from passion’s reign Till blameless moral rectitude they gain. But lest reformed from each extremer ill, They should but civilize old nature still, The loftier charms and energy display Of virtue modell’d by the Godhead’s ray; The lineaments divine, Perfection’s plan, And all the grandeur of the heavenly Man. 180 Commences thus the agonizing strife Previous to nature’s death, and second life: Struck by their own inclement piercing eye, Their feeble virtue’s blush, subside, and die: They view the scheme that mimic nature made, A fancied goddess, and religion’s shade; With angry scorn they now reject the whole, Unchanged their heart, undeified their soul; Till indignation sleeps away to faith. And God’s own power and peace take root in sacred wrath. Aim less to teach than love. The work begun In words, is crown’d by artless warmth alone. Love to your friend a second office owes, Yourself and him before heaven’s footstool throws: You place his form as suppliant by your side, (An helpless worm, for whom the Saviour died) Into his soul call down th’ ethereal beam, And longing ask to spend, and to be spent for him. ON THE DEATH OF THE REV. MR. CENNICK. Thou generous soul ! to me thy path shines bright: Happy thy choice, and exquisitely right! Blameless in all that constitutes a man, Or man can e’er demand, admire or scan, Thy keener eye yet higher fountains viewed. Whence a divine immortal rectitude, Must clothe the best, as worst, thro’ Jesus’ blood. 181 I’ve seen the warmth, wherewith to reptiles vain God’s counsel thou, undaunted, didst maintain; How, next, the mourners thou could’st gird with power In thy great Master’s name, so that one hour Hid former gloom and guilt in heavenly joy devour: How, lastly, to that heart, whose godlike zeal Met the rough steel to work this general weal, Thy heart with private gratitude did burn, With tears of love filled up its votive urn; Best, sweetest monument, which man’s spirit here, ’Midst deeds more echoed, can in silence rear. My breast with pain do these reflections fill, Barely not censuring the all-wise will: Why from our streets did such a torch retire, When reigning night insults all sacred fire, Deems it long buried as in Erro’s days, And stalks securely Pagan, o’er the place ! Ah ! my heart bleeds—my God has lost a friend! (We Christians teach, our God could condescend To lose, yea, suffer for a time, and die : Friendless, unheeded, walks poor Jesus by.) Sinners have lost one too, who very low, Armed with the gospel promises, could go; Yet the most hopeless souls to comfort raised. Who with renewed hearts their Saviour praised. What shall I say ? I’m loser too and lame— Wanting the helper, I’ll enshrine the name ! ’Twill raise my ardour, and direct my aim. 182 TO A FRIEND IN LOVE. Accept, dear youth, a sympathizing lay, The only tribute pitying love can pay: Though vain the hope thine anguish to assuage, Charm down desire, or calm fierce passion’s rage : Yet still permit me in thy griefs to grieve, Relief to offer, if I can’t relieve; Near thy sick couch with fond concern t’ attend, And reach out cordials to my dying friend. Poor hapless youth ! what words can ease thy pain; When reason pleads, and wisdom cries in vain ! Can feeble verse impetuous nature guide, Or stem the force of blind affection’s tide ? If reason checks, or duty disallows, 44 Reason, you cry, and duty are my foes: Religion’s dictates ineffectual prove, And God himself’s impertinence in Love.” What art thou, love ? Thou strange mysteriou ill, Whom none aright can know, though all can feel. From careless sloth thy dull existence flows, And feeds the fountain whence itself arose : Silent its waves with baleful influence roll, Damp the young mind, and sink th’ aspiring soul, Poison its virtues, all its powers restrain, And blast the promise of the future man. 183 To tliee, curst fiend, the captive wretch consigned “ His passions rampant, and his reason blind,” Reason, heaven’s great vicegerent, dares disown, And place a foolish idol in its throne : Or wildly raise his frantic raptures higher, And pour out blasphemies at thy desire. At thy desire he bids a creature shine, He decks a worm with attributes divine; Her’s to angelic beauties dares prefer,