THE TRUE EFFIGIES OF THE Monster of Malmesbury: OR, THOMAS HOBBES IN HIS PROPER COLOURS.

LONDON, Printed in the Year, 1680.

TO THE READER.

I Desire thou shouldst understand that the Author of the following Verses against Mr. Hobbes, a­bout Twenty Years since conceived that Indig­nation against him, and that Hatred of his Illogical and Atheistical Genius which he has here Exprest, and that he Avers that it is both the Effect of the DARKNESSE of this Mans Heart, and the Cause of the Encrease of it, that he holds that there cannot be an Idea of an Infinite Being. I cannot think of any o­ther of his wicked Conceits, but what has been a­bundantly [Page] confuted by one or other of his Learned Adversaries; but I have not observed that this hath been taken notice of by any one except Des Cartes; wherefore I shall desire the Ingenious Reader to be­stow his utmost Intention on these Words, which the Author of these Verses delivered in a Discourse to a great Auditory about seven years since: But my hardest Task is yet behind, viz. to Prove, as to a stubborn Atheist, that there is a GOD. Many men declare that they have in their minds the Idea or No­tion of GOD, that is to say, of a Being Absolutely Infinite: I say many men declare that they have the Idea of this Being, therefore certainly there is such a Being. How, may some say? This is a fine Argument indeed; It is so, because Many Men think it is so. Why may not that which you call an Idea of GOD, be nothing else but a meer Conceit or Figment of the Mind. To this we answer, that we undertake to Demonstrate that it is not a meer Conceit, &c. which we apprehend under these Terms, A Being Absolutely Infinite. If it were a meer Conceit, an Ens Rationis, or Empty Notion, then this Proposition would be True: Some meer Conceit or Figment of the Mind is That which the Mind may Apprehend under these Terms, A Being, &c. But that we Prove to be False, thus; That which 'tis possible for the Mind to compre­hend, [Page] and to know for certain that 'tis nothing else but what it works or frames to it self, is not That which the Mind may Apprehend under these Terms, A Being Absolutely Infinite:

Every meer Conceit, Ens Rationis, or Figment of the Mind is that which 'tis possible for the Mind to comprehend, &c. therefore No meer Conceit, &c. is That which the Mind may Apprehend under these Terms, A Being Absolutely Infinite. By these Words 'tis possible for the Mind to comprehend, I mean, As to the Utmost Extent of its Natural Capacity: not but that it may be Impossible for the Mind by reason of some Accidental Defect to Comprehend its own Opera­tion: Absolutely Infinite plainly implies All Ex­cellency and Perfection that we can Understand, and That which Infinitely Transcends our Under­standing. We know nothing more cettainly than this, that Our Holy One is Incomprehensible: [...], sayes that Incomparable Divine St. Gregory Nazianzen,

And now I shall demonstrate to All Christians that there is an Idea, or Notion of God in the Minds of All men: And by this it will appear that 'tis very Indiscreet (not to say Wicked) for any Christian to slight this Argument for the Conviction of the Mad­ness of Atheism. I do not wonder to see it slighted by that Monster, the Father of the Leviathan, or by his [Page] Friend Gassendus, who has such Abominable Gross Conceits of the Deity, that 'twould look like a kind of Prophaneness to mention them in English before such a Promiscuous Auditory. But this I shall say in scorn of those Ugly things which this New Philoso­pher, and New Divine has written in opposition to Des Cartes; that it is not strange that he who writes the Life of Gassendus, sayes of Hobbes, that he was Gas­sendo charissimus, But let these men, and the Admi­rers of their rare Metaphysicks Prate what they please, we know & are assur'd that these words were dicta­ted to St. Paul by the Holy Ghost, Rom. 1.15. Which shew the work of the Law written in their hearts. He speaks of the Gentiles, which have not the Law, that is, (says the truly Learned, and Pious Doctor Hammond) which have not that Revelation of Gods Will and Law which the Iews had. By the work of the Law we understand That which the Law Requires to be done, which our Sa­viour reduces to these Two Heads, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, &c. And thy Neighbour as thy self. What can be more evident than this, that in the work of the Law written in the Hearts of Men there is implied an Idea, or Notion of God? sith the Principal work of the Law is, To Love God, which Pythago­ras, and his Followers declare to be Written in their Hearts by that celebrated Saying of theirs [...], Follow God. What a shame is it for any Christian not [Page] to Reflect upon the Brightness of his own Soul, Il­lustrated by this Splendid Notion of the Deity, so as to despise All the Glories of this perishing World! But, alas, the Perverseness of our Wills averts our Un­derstanding from reflecting on its own Light. Shine upon us, we beseech thee, O Father of Lights, in the Face of JESUS CHRIST, the Brightness of thy Glory, that in thy Light we may see Light.

Here I shall mind you of those Two Sacred Arguments to Demonstrate the Deity, which the Psalmist uses in Ps. 19. to wit, the Light of the Visible World, and the Purity of the Law of GOD, that Spiritual Light that proceeds from the Sun of Righteousness, the Sun of the Invisible world, Psal. 19.1, 2, 3, &c. The Apostle sayes expresly, Rom. 1.20. The Invisible things of him from the Creation of the World are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his Eternal Power and Godhead. And as for the Law of God, the Holy Scriptures, whosoever reads them with All Diligence, and compares what he Reads with what he Sees in the World, and what he often Feels in his own Soul, he will certainly cry out with the Blessed Psalmist, Verily there is a Reward for the Righteous; verily he is a God that Judgeth in the Earth.

And now I shall mention another of Mr. Hobbes's wicked Conceits, that thou maist more clearly per­ceive the Iustice of that vehement Indignation I have against him. In his late Pamphlet entiuled An Histori­cal [Page] Narrative concerning Heresie, p. 11. He shews that he would fain have this Doctrine go for a piece of POPERY, viz. That a mans Will and Purpose to commit Sin, does not proceed from God, but origi­nally from himself or from the Devil. Unhappy man, who endeavours so plainly and openly to stain the Glory of the HOLY ONE! and to Recon­cile us to Sin, the Only Absolute EVIL! For he can ne­ver Rationally conclude that Sin deserves our utmost Hatred, who has a Conceit that it Proceeds from GOD. The Spring and Original of all Sin is SELF-WILL, Sin being an Aversion from GOD, whilst the Will of the Creature Affects It self, and not the Will of the Creator, as the Prime Motive in its Tendency or Inclination. Mr. Hobbes may call this Non-sense, or what he pleases; but he shall quickly Know that 'tis a Truth of the greatest Importance. I grant that He has a very Elegant Style both in English and La­tine, Prose and Verse: But his Leviathan, and other Books of his are so full of Madness and Folly, that 'tis impossible they should be so Taking as they are, but that the Practices of so Many even of them that have Named the Name of CHRIST, are so Agreeable to His Notions. But the time draws on apace when He & his Followers shall Know that the LORD our God will not be Mocked, and that he will Hear the Voice of his Church, crying unto him, Arise, O God, plead thine own Cause, remember how the Foolish man Reproacheth thee daily.

Mr. COWLEY's VERSES In PRAISE of MR. HOBBES, OPPOS'D;

By a Lover of Truth and Virtue.

Idcirco Virtus medio jacet obruta coeno:
Nequitiae classes candida vela ferunt.
[...]
[...]
[...]
[...]
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Sint nunquam mihi tales
Mores Iupiter Pater: sed viis
Simplicibus vitae insistam—
Laudans Laudanda, Vituperiumque
Inspergen; Improbis.
PIND. NEM. ODE VIII.

LONDON, Printed in the Year, 1680.

[...]
[...]

To Mr. HOBBES

(1)
VAst Bodies of Philosophy
I oft have seen, and read,
But all are Bodies dead,
Or Bodies by Art fashioned:
I never yet the Living Soul could see
But in thy Books, and thee.
'Tis only God can know
Whether the fair Idea thou dost show,
Agree entirely with his own, or no.
This I dare boldly tell,
'Tis so like Truth 'twill serve our turn as well.
Iust as in * Nature thy Proportions be,
As full of Concord their Varietie;
As firm the parts upon their Center rest,
And all so Solid are, that they at least
As much as Nature, Emptiness detest.
(2)
What Bodies of Philosophie
You oft have seen, and read,
I wish you had but mentioned,
Wee'd judge if they're alive, or dead:
We cannot judge before we Trye.
The Morals of the Stagirite
Are Stars which to th' Dark World gave Light,
But Hobbes by his would turn our Day to Night.
Great Zenophon, and Plato, who relate,
How Socrates embrac'd his Fate,
And all the Brave Socratick Race,
Whose Monuments Time can't deface,
Shall live, when Hobbes shall have his Doom,
So Lie as dead, as doth TOM THUMB:
Good Men his Knavery spie:
His Books contain some Truths, and many a Lie,
Some Truths well known, but strange Impiety.
* Stay! stay! where now fond Lad!
Thy Wit thus strain'd, Thou'rt ten times worse than Mad.
What's Nature but the Ordinary way
Wherein our Good Creator doth display
His Power, and Wisdom in the things he made
For his own Goodness sake? Man's not a Shade,
But utter Darkness, whilst he acts alone,
Whilst his works are not natures; but his own:
What! Hobbes, and Nature thus to parallel!
What's this but to confront Bright Heaven with Hell!
So doth the Poets wit suit with his Theme:
He that will Hobbes Applaud must first Blaspheme.
(2)
Long did the mighty Stagirite retain
The universal Intellectual Reign,
Saw his own Countrys short-liv'd Leopard slain;
The stronger Roman Eagle did out-fly,
Oftner renew'd his Age, and saw that Dye.
Mecha it self in spight of Mahomet possest,
And chas'd by a wild Deluge from the East,
His Monarchy new planted in the West.
But as in time each great Imperial Race
Degenerates, and gives some new one place:
So did this Noble Empire wast,
Sunk by degrees from Glories past,
And in the School-mens hands perisht quite at last.
Then nought, but words it grew,
And those all Barbarous too.
It perisht, and it vanisht, there,
The Life and Soul breath'd out, became but empty Air.
(2)
The Empire of the Stagarites sublime and piercing wit,
(Tho th'Empire both of Greece, and Rome
Time did long since or'ecome)
Shall ne're decay, but men shall still to its vast Power submit;
For All well-order'd thoughts must go
Within the Compass of those Rules, which his great Art did shew.
Our HARVEY, whose bright Fame
So Dazel'd Envies Eye, that she
[Page 6]could never see
The least Pretence to lessen his Great Name,
Even He commends the Stagirite
To all Posterity,
As one that had a Clear Insight
Into the Secret ways of Natures Majesty.
'Tis true he fail'd in that he did not see
That things Successive could not be
From all Eternitie:
But yet he saw
That this is Natures Law,
That all things must depend on him alone,
Who gives to all things Motion, though himself has none,
Who Is, and Was, and Ever shall Be ONE
In all Simplicitie,
From Composition, and from Alteration free:
To whom may all true Praise be given
In Earth, as 'tis in Heaven.
(3)
The Fields which answered well the Antients Plow,
Spent and out-worn return no Harvest now,
In Barren Age wild, and unglorious lie
And boast of past Fertilitie,
The poor relief of present Poverty.
Food, and Fruit we now must want,
Unless New Lands we plant.
We break up Tombs with Sacrilegious hands;
Old Rubbish we remove,
To walk in Ruines like vain Ghosts we love,
And with fond Divining Wands
We search among the Dead,
[Page 7]For Treasures Buried,
Whilst still the liberal Earth does hold
So many Virgin Mines of undiscovered Gold.
(3)
That in this Age Men don't their Thoughts confine
Within the Line
Of what Judicious Aristotle said;
Nor are his Works so commented,
As they were in those Days;
They don't hereby detract from his Great Praise.
Sith they walk in those ways,
To which his mighty Genius led.
His Commendation was not this, that he
Did shew the Truth of this, or that Particularitie;
But that he shew'd the way to clear our Thought,
That every Man might find that Truth, which should by him be sought.
(4)
The Baltic, Euxin, and the Caspian,
And slender limb'd Mediterranean
Seem Narrow Creeks to Thee, and only fit
For the poor wretched Fisher-Boats of Wit:
Thy Nobler Vessel the vast Ocean tries,
And nothing sees but Seas and Skies,
Till unknown Regions it descries.
Thou great Columbus of the Golden Lands of New Philoso­phies,
Thy Task was harder much than his;
For thy learn'd America is
[Page 8]Not only found out first by thee,
And rudely left to future Industry;
But thy Eloquence, and thy Wit
Has planted, peopled, built, and civilized it.
(4)
'Tis true, thy New Philosopher has left the Caspian,
The Baltic, Euxin, Mediterranean;
The Narrow ways to all that Veritie
Which Mortals can descrie;
He Sails i'th' Ocean of the most Profound Impiety;
And from the Coasts of Hell
He brings those Wares, which he shall never sell
To any, but those dark'ned Souls, which lie, where Adam fell.
The Power of Earthly Princes he doth foolishly pretend
By his fictitious Loyalty t' extend
To larger measures; gives to Kings what's due to God alone:
Thus what he seems to make more great, he really makes none:
For sure on Earth there is No Monarchy,
If it consist in ABSOLUTE Sovereignty.
The King of Kings commands us to obey our King,
By chearful Doing, or by quiet Suffering:
He that the Power of Kings would have much higher to arise,
His King Dishonours, and his GOD he doth Despise:
Such Folk dwell in those Colonies,
Which Hobbes has planted in his Lands of New Philosophies.
[Page 3]I little thought before,
(Nor being my own self so poor,
Could comprehend so vast a store)
That all the Wardrobe of rich Eloquence,
Could have afforded half enuff
Of bright, of new, and lasting Stuff,
To cloath the mighty limbs of thy Gigantick Sense,
Thy solid Reason like the Shield from Heaven,
To the Trojan Heroe given,
Too strong to take a mark from any mortal Dart,
Yet shines with Gold, and Gems in every part,
And wonders on it grav'd by the learned hand of Art;
A Shield that gives delight
Even to the Enemies sight,
Then when they're sure to lose the Combat by't.
(5)
His Monstrous Thoughts may well be call'd Gigantick Sense,
To Heaven they fain would offer violence,
Like those Giants of old
Of which the Poets told.
Even like Goliath they Defie
The Armies of the Living God, and like him too they Die.
The Man with his Gigantick Sense, his mighty Spear and Shield
Comes forth into the Field;
And for some time he Boasted there
As if he had no Cause to Fear.
His Captive-Darkned Soul cann't see,
What 'tis to have our Souls set free
From the Black Chains of dire NECESSITIE;
This and a Thousand Errors more
He strives to Land upon our Shoar.
[Page 4]But then the Mighty BRAMHAL comes, and takes his Arms away,
Shews that this Painted Shield's not fit for Fight, but Play,
Strikes down the Monster, doth to All his Ugly Shape display.
Then in another Field he's met by th' Mighty WARD;
And here 'twas plainly seen, that he could neither guard
Himself from being Wounded, or give Wounds;
Down strait he falls, his Armour on him sounds,
What e're his Followers say, he never Rose again:
His Ghost is heard to Rave sometimes, but then Bold TOM was slain.
(6)
Nor can the Snow, which now cold Age does shed
Upon thy reverend Head,
Quench or allay the noble Fires within,
But all which thou hast bin,
And all that Youth can be, thou'rt yet,
So fully still dost Thou
Enjoy the Manhood, and the Bloom of Wit,
And all the Natural Heat, but not the Feaver too.
So Contraries on AEtna's Top conspire
Her hoary Frosts, and by them breaks out Fire.
A secure peace the faithful Neighbours keep,
Th [...] emboldned Snow next to the Flame does sleep.
And if we weigh like Thee,
Nature, and Causes we shall see,
That thus it needs must be;
To things Immortal, Time can do no wrong,
And that which never is to Dye, for ever must be Young,
[Page 5]TOM's grown Another Man, and now himself betakes
To Poetry, and Sonnets makes
Of Gods, and Goddesses, and such like things:
He's now the Eccho of what HOMER Sings.
If Versifying be a Sign of Youth,
The Man of Politicks is youthful still:
He does not here Pretend to shew the Truth,
On which Pretence how much Ink did he spill!
O that he had spent all the Time
In hard Translations, and in Rhyme,
Which he spent in Opposing Truths, by which to Heaven we climb.
No wonder, that Old Age, & Youth, AEtnean Cold, & Heat
Should Meet in Him, in whom long since such Contradictions Met.
I wish he may not Die too soon after so long a Life,
That he no longer would maintain his cursed Strife
'Gainst That, which would make him repent of all's Im­pieties:
Least his Long Life bring him i'th' End to th' WORM that Never Dies.
FINIS.

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