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"Consult the native Dictates of thy Soul; / And if thou there discern the Maker's Hand, / Confess his Care, resign to his Command."

— Tollet, Elizabeth (1694-1754)

Author

Against Chance and Fate.

Date

1724, 1756

Metaphor

"Consult the native Dictates of thy Soul; / And if thou there discern the Maker's Hand, / Confess his Care, resign to his Command."

Metaphor in Context

Tis not wild Chance, or arbitrary Fate,
Fond Man! that guides thy fluctuating State:
Poor Reason yields in vain her feeble Aid,
Alike by each fantastick Scheme betray'd.
Cou'd wand'ring Atoms, in their casual Fall,
Compose the Fabric of this wond'rous Ball:
Are Modes of Matter capable of Thought,
With Act reflex, and clear Ideas fraught?
Then well may Chance in endless Mazes run,
And rule the System which it first begun.
But see! the Earth with useful Plenty bless'd,
The Plants of vegetable Life possess'd;
Observe by Beasts, in ev'ry Species, shown
A dubious Reason which we blush to own:
Then thou, whose boasted Power can all controul,
Consult the native Dictates of thy Soul;
And if thou there discern the Maker's Hand,
Confess his Care, resign to his Command,
Others, as vain, to human Acts apply
A fatal Series and Necessity:
And think that Choice, which we imagine free,
Was predetermin'd by severe Decree.
Why then must Man, of Liberty debarr'd,
Or suffer Punishment, or meet Reward?
Whence springs the Difference of Good and Ill,
Our Deed constrain'd, and over-rul'd our Will?
Must we the Guilt of fancy'd Freedom bear?
Why is our blinded Reason forc'd to err?
Does this consist with Rules by Justice taught,
That Pow'r shou'd punish which compell'd the Fault?
Thus vainly in the jangling Schools engage
Fond Epicurus and the Cyprian Sage:
'Till Heav'n the interposing Curtain draws,
A World created, and superior Cause
Now stand reveal'd; and in his Works is shown,
Who long was sought in vain, a God unknown.
From whence this consequential System flows,
The whole subsisting by his sole Dispose:
That his eternal Wisdom does dispense
The various Bounties of his Providence.
To thee, O Man! a reas'ning Soul is giv'n,
Form'd to be happy, capable of Heav'n;
Thy Act is free, and unconstrain'd thy Will,
In Good instructed, and forewarn'd of Ill:
And hence that Punishment, deserv'd and due,
To those who know the Good, the Worst pursue.
Perplex'd and weary'd in the tedious Chace,
Reason thus far a Providence may trace:
Here she must rest; nor can her dazzled Sight
Pierce the bright Regions of eternal Light.
How does it mock her Labour to explain
How we from Adam's Crime derive a Stain?
How can her Force a proper Victim show
Our Guilt to expiate, and avert our Woe?
How in one Person, tho' not mix'd, are join'd
The human Nature and eternal Mind?
How he who was e're Time in Time had Birth,
Uncircumscrib'd by Heav'n inhabits Earth?
Whose sacred Blood, by impious Fury spilt,
Man's greatest Crime, atones Man's greatest Guilt.
Canst thou, who hast with Subtilty defin'd
The closest Operations of the Mind,
Canst thou, I say, with like Discernment trace
Th' effective Influence of celestial Grace?
Can'st thou distinguish, with acutest Skill,
How the bless'd Spirit leads thy proper Will?
Then, feeble Reason! thy Pursuit must cease:
Implore the God of Knowledge, Truth and Peace,
To teach that Rebel Folly we call Wit,
That 'tis her noblest Conquest to submit.
Vain Man, whom Pride and Obstinacy sway,
Persists disputing when he should obey;
To Terms of Honour giv'n he scorns to yield;
And strives, tho' vanquish'd, to maintain the Field.
Here end thy Search; and fix thy lasting Trust
On the most wise, most pow'rful, and most just.