Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n
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A37276
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An anatomy of atheisme a poem / by a person of quality.
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Dawes, William, Sir, 1671-1724.
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1694
(1694)
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Wing D453; ESTC R16785
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11,428
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40
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I may perhaps be encourag'd to publish something else of the same Nature In the mean while till I see what Fortune it has Adieu AN Anatomy of Atheisme SInce some with bare-fac'd Impudence deny The Self-Existence of a Deity Who is and was from all Eternity Others more civilly a God dispute Till by disputing they themselves confute A Third sort own they do a God believe But at such random Rates and Methods live That by their Practice they a God defye And by their Actions give their Tongues the lye Since these I say so numerous are grown And fill the Court the Country and the Town My pious Muse inspir'd with Holy Rage These dreadful Monsters singly shall engage And as of old the little Son of Jesse A mighty Gyant did in fight suppress Strengthen'd by God whose Armour then he wore And whose just cause upon his Sword he bore So by the help of that Divinity Whom I assert they foolishly deny Their Errors I so fully shall refute That I shall leave them answerless and mute And first for him that rashly does disown The being of the bless't Eternal one Let him but tell me whence the World began Who made that Lovely Lordly Creature Man Let him around him gently cast his Eyes And guess who made the Earth the Seas and Skys If he be one of that misguided Tribe Which to blind chance does all these works ascribe Let him the beauty of a Plant survey The just vicissitudes of Night and Day The constant motions of the Moon and Sun Which in just order doe their Races run Let him consider his own wondrous make And for a time himself to pieces take Then see how ev'ry Fibre Vein and Nerve Does to it's proper ends and uses serve How all we eat and drink and take for food Dissolves to Chyle and mingles with the blood If all this Lesson still shall prove in vain And he his first dull Maxim will maintain That Atoms moving in a heedless dance Leap't into this Harmonious form by chance Then let him say a beauteous Edifice From Bricks and Stones will of it self arise That Letters in abagg together shook Will make an Uniform Ingenious Book Or that bare Brass and Steel will jump into a Clock The Works of Chance are of another kind And like their cause irregular and blind Without intention and without design And far from being beautiful or fine Since then the Workmanship we plainly see We must infer there must a Workman be Thus by the Art the Artist we descry And by the Creature find the Deity And since the World at first was made too fair Too Curious Excellent and Regular To be the Work of blind Contingency To what new Covert must the Atheist fly The World's Eternity he next must take For his last Refuge and his surest Stake And by denying that the World was made Or that by Art it was in Order laid He thinks to ward off the necessity Of introducing here a Deity Whose boundless pow'r and all-contriving thought This lovely Fabrick to perfection brought But here instead of wiping off the Score He 's plung'd in deeper than he was before For far from owning its Eternity Wee 'l show the World in its first infancy And as through various turns and windings led We trace the River to the Fountain-head So going backwards still from Man to Man Wee 'l find a time when we at first began Most People own it not Six Thousand year Since first this beauteous Fabrick did appear Aegyptian Priests held a much longer Date And reckon'd at a very diff'rent Rate But they alass were full of Forgeryes And fam'd for nought but Impudence and Lyes Chaldaeans too made their unjust account Beyond the number of our Cent'ries mount But told such gross Improbabilities That wisest Men them and their Cheats despise Moses alone the Sacred Truth did tell And the World's age with faithfulness reveal Believ'd by all but such as want of Sense Or obstinate and hard'ned Impudence Has blinded with so thick a mist of Night That they shall never more behold the light On his account however I rely As an Exact Impartial History Because Tradition does it's Faith assure And with one common voice proclaims it pure Here may each Man as in a Mirrour see His first Extraction and his Pedigree And find his wish'd for Genealogy Thus then we come to our Original And to the God and Father of us all But since the Atheist does this Book disown He must have other proof or he has none And though our reason makes it clear and plain This Book does nothing but the Truth contain Wrote by a Man whose just Integrity Forbids us to suspect he 'd write a lye Or tell those things with Confidence as true Which he perhaps might fancy never knew Yet against Moses he will still exclaim And call his Story a Phantastick Dream If then there was a World as some contend Which never did begin and ne're will end Let them the Records of this World unfold In which it's mighty actions are enroll'd And show before the time of our Creation One Kingdom Empire Common-wealth or Nation One Language Science Art or Mystery Whose first Original we can't descry But here the Atheist leaves us at a stand And bids us seek for an unheard of Land Without a Guide to tell the certain way And keep false lights from leading us astray Doubtless faith he there were in times of yor'e Of Histories and Records plenteous store But these to Earthquakes Floods and Deluges More frequent Fires and sad Contingencyes Became a dire inevitable prey And with their Author 's they were snatcht away Was there then ever such a Fire or Flood So swift and fierce as not to be withstood So gen'ral and so full of Cruelty As to leave none to write its History If so the World was to begin again And that 's the same as it had never been If not 't is strange Tradition should not tell Those Wonders which our Ancestours befell They who surviv'd these sad Catastrophe's Told them no doubt to their Posterities And thus the History at first begun Must through the Line of long Succession run Supposing then what Story did relate In careful Writing subject was to fate Oral Tradition sure could hardly fail Unless it had been stop't by Miracle Some glimm'rings sure we of this World should see Thro' the dark Vale of long Antiquity Some tidings of that World we needs must have Which fell almost at once into its Grave At least some Rite or Custom would remain To prove that Men have before Adam been Since all these things are wanting let 's conclude That Adam is our Sire and we his brood And on his Person we with ease shall see The plain Impressions of a Deity Besides as wise Lucretius well observes The Atheist to his own Conviction serves For all his Earthquakes Floods and Deluges Prove onely that
the World corruptive is And since it is decay'd and wasts so fast This plainly shows it has not long to last Immortal things Immortal Beauty hold Unchang'd and sure of never growing old Whereas the World does almost ev'ry day Give us fresh Instances of it's decay Unhappy Naples more than half o'rethrown This dismal Truth unwillingly must own And Aetna's flames show by their constant rage The World is come into her latest Age. Nothing from ruine can her Fabrick save But nodding now she bends tow'rds her Eternal Grave Thus does the World most evidently prove The Being of that God who sits above For since from various reason's we infer The World's Nativity as plain and clear By reason cast the Atheists quit the Field And that the World is not Eternal yield If not Eternal then it once was made If made it certainly a Maker had Now all Men this must for an axiom take That nothing can it self produce or make For that this contradiction would implye At the same time to be and not to be Some outward cause we therefore must explore Either of Chance or an Eternal Pow'r The World 's too well proportion'd and design'd To be the Work of Chance ill-shap'd and blind God for her Maker she alone will own And throws her self at his Allmighty Throne Nor does the World and its harmonious frame The being of a God alone proclaim But Moses by his wonder-working Rod Gives us another proof there is a God And each effect surpassing Natures Laws Bids us look out for a superiour Cause In vain Philosophers their Wisdom try And stretch poor Nature to Extremity To make her solve each wond'rous Mystery To Nature's Master they must often go If of Effects they would the Causes know How strangely must the Atheist look to see The fire renounce its burning quality And things which nat'rally increase it's rage Clam its fierce scorchings and it's heat asswage Yet thus it 's Nature did the fire foregoe For Shadrach Meshach and Abednego In vain the Tyrant did their Ruine threat And sev'n times o're his stubborn Furnace heat Safe in the midst o' the flames the Brethren stood And cool as Summer Breezes from the Wood. What pow'r of Nature can transform a flood Of Chrystal Waters into Scarlet Blood Or make the Sea without its Motion stand And in a moment turn to Solid Land Yet thus in Antient Days did Moses show The pow'r of God above by Miracles below What strength of Art can quicken and restore A Man when dead to what he was before Infuse new Life into his Frozen Veins And a new Soul to his forsaken Brains Yet this did our all-pow'rful Master do Who rais'd from Death himself and others too Can Nature say awake ye Dead arise Shake off your Sleep lift up your drowsie Eyes I will again once more your Corps inspire Kindle your Breath with my enliv'ning fire And give your Soul back to it 's Antient Friend Your Soul which when I please I take or lend No she with Modesty withdraws her head And Challeng'es no pow'r to raise the dead But owns she has a Lord whose awful sway She must not cannot dares not disobey When he commands she leaves her wonted way He makes the Water Earth and Air and Fire When he sees fit against themselves conspire Makes Lyons though by Nature fierce and wild Fearful and gentle as a new-born-Child He makes the tender Lambs securely sleep Whilst hungry Tygers do the Sheep-folds keep Let him but speak and Nature stops her course Abates her pace and slackens all her force At his command the Sun and Moon stand still And give his Servants light their Foes to kill A word from him makes the Clouds cease to rain Another Word makes them distil again Tho' Nature saith our Noons are always bright Yet let him speak and there shall be no light But Day it self shall be transform'd to Night Thus does each Miracle in Letters plain And at a mighty distance to be seen Show the great name of Nature's Sacred Lord By us with Love and Reverence ador'd To him the Atheist must his Tribute give From whom alone he borrows leave to live His being sure he can no more deny Of which so many Wonders testifie The Miracles stand fix'd in History Stamp'd by Traditional Authority To which no Man of sense will give the lie The Credit of the World is much too strong To be beat down by any single Tongue The facts he therefore cannot well disown Unless he has resolv'd to Credit none But what he sees to believe nothing told Or think no Truth but what his Eyes behold If not the Facts we take our strength from thence And thus we argue for our Consequence If Works are done which Natures pow'r exceed We in some higher pow'r these wond'rous works must read The Gifts of Prophecy as plainly show There must be one to whom those Gifts we owe. Man's knowledge is too shallow to foresee What shall to Morrow or the next day be Much more to tell a Thousand years events Which all depend on future accidents And lay those things before us bright and clear And just as if they were already here Which shall not come to pass till the next Age Shifts Scenes and brings a new one on the Stage Yet thus of old did Abraham foretell That his poor Off-spring should in Aegypt dwell And for the space of many a tedious year The toilsome Yoak of cruel Pharaoh bear Exactly did the sad Event agree With what had been foretold in Prophecy Thus was Josiah's Birth and Reign of old Some hundred years before they came foretold And thus Isaiah told as he foresaw That Cyrus to the Persians should give Law That by his Mighty Arm the Jews should rise And tho' then Slaves subdue their Enemies And that the matter might be free from doubt By Name he mark'd this Glorious Monarch out Thus all the Prophets did praesig nifie The Blessed Jesus his Nativity And laid each Circumstance so nicely down That by the Character the God was known If all these Prophecies are not fulfill'd We are content with shame to quit the field But if they are as justly we believe The Atheist must be damn'd beyond reprieve For they who shut their Eyes and will not see The pow'r of an all-knowing Deity Who looks with ease into futurity No Mercy must expect or Pity pray When the Great God shall keep his Judgment-Day Man they confess is of too short a sight To fee things future sown in depth of Night Some nobler pow'r they then of course must grant Which does no measure of fore-knowledge want This pow'r is God whom rashaly they deny They know not upon what account or why But some perhaps will call for Instances Out of Prophance and Common Histories Tho' without reason they this favour ask Yet I most willingly accept the Task And here the Antient Oracles afford