Noah\

;'-

>

NOAH'S ARK

A SATIRE.

DEDICATED TO THE READERS
OF THE
"TRACTS FOR THE TIMES."
BY A GRADUATE
OF THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD.

OXFORD :
PRINTED AND PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR
BY H. ALDEN, CORN-MARKET STREET.
MDCCCXLI.

n\^§5'^

Gentlemen,
You have endured, with surprising patience, a vast
quantity of tedious prose. I offer you a little rhyme by
way of variety. Truly, when we consider the many
pamphlets that are issuing from the press, it is curious
to observe how Interest has brought together so many
conflicting opinions in the one True Church. But
Interest is your only magic. Interest can make the lion
and the lamb lie down together.
Belonging to no religious party, yet having I trust
a deep reverence for religion, I am an unprejudiced and
impartial observer. I care little for sects or churches.
I like to examine the Scriptures for myself, and consult
my own free mind. But, I must own, the Catholic stands
on higher ground than the Puseyite, as the bold high
wayman seems more manly than the treacherous pick
pocket. I have not put my name to this satire, nor have
I taken much pains to polish the verse, my object being
neither to achieve fame, nor to produce faultless poetry,
but to promulgate free thoughts, and to aid the cause of
truth. Nevertheless, I am responsible for this pamphlet,
and should there be a cry of "Name, name!" I shall
not shrink from the avowal of its authorship.
I am, Gentlemen, Your obedient Servant,
The Author,

NOAH'S ARK.

A SATIRE.

In days gone by there liv'd two rival priests,
Alas for rivalry in priestly breasts !
Both were well skill'd admiring crowds to draw,
One self-commission'd, one ordain'd by law ;
For peace and love their voices loudly cried.
But their hearts burn'd with jealousy and pride ;
Each doom'd his brother to the penal fire,
As eager to anticipate Heaven's ire ; —
Yet were they soldiers in one common aim,
Their God, their master, and their creed the same ;
But each the other's wayward heart deplor'd.
And deem'd himself the image of his Lord.
Ah ! Christ's meek heart with holy love flow'd o'er,
Love was the livery His disciples wore ;
More modern saints exult in keen debate,
The first in zeal are fiercest in their hate ;
Polemics never did nor will agree,
All praise, but few can practise Charity.

6 noah's ark.
When God's dear Son descended from above,
Rejoicing angels sung the praise of Love;
By love, Messiah bore life's heavy load,
That earth might feel the image of its God ;
He wore the form of man, that man might see
The excellence of heavenly Charity ; —
He dar'd to taste life's bitter cup of grief,
And drain'd it to the dregs for our relief; —
Our woes, — our sins, — with deep compassion view'd,
And went about for ever doing good ; —
His was a love no time, no wrongs could quell,
Self-sacrificing — pure — invincible ; —
He pardon'd eager hate, and insult rude,
And e'en thy sharper sting, — Ingratitude ;
Still to the last, while on the cross He hung,
Angelic kindness linger'd on His tongue, —
Yet, — strange to think !— stern bigots, in His name,
Have given their brother to devouring flame ; —
Have read their Bibles wrong — yet dar'd condemn
All such as were too wise to agree with them.

Nor are they milder in our modern days,
Tho' no converting fires in Smithfield blaze ;
Hate, her dark hints — her falsehoods still can frame,
And stab men's peace by blasting their good name :
Thus, since our laws old priestly sports deny,
They glut their savage hearts with Calumny.

All who in Jesus would acceptance find.
Must strive to grow like Him in heart and mind ;
Not hate, — misrepresent, — and dogmatise,
But learn the spirit of self-sacrifice ;
Whate'er their Church, all bitterness must shun,
Rather than that 'twere better be of none : —

NOAH S ARK.

He seeks no pompous praise — they serve Him best
Who bear His moral image in their breast.

Many a fierce saint, by churchmen half ador'd,
Knew not, or scorn'd, the spirit of his Lord ;
So true it is, deny it those who can, —
A churchman may be no good Christian : —
'Twas Christ's command, His followers should be known
By their disinterested love alone ;
His weapons are not curses, fire, and steel,
But Mind to think, — and Charity to feel ;
He knew too well the warlike heart of man,
On quarrels, hate, and murders ever ran ;
He gave no sanction to the absurd pretence
Of priestcraft's arrogant intolerance ;
And order'd, to bid civil discord cease,
Not toleration, — but, fraternal peace.

But grant there were some show of argument
That churchmen should look coldly on dissent.
If Christians should delight in unity,
As branches issuing from one common tree,
How comes it that the Church itself displays
Doctrines so different to the sceptic's gaze ?

Priests may believe, at heart, whate'er they please,
If they observe all outward decencies.
Pent up to fatten in one common sty,
They wear the badge of tame Conformity ;
Dumb dogs they are— a sleek, yet hungry brood,
Content to wear the collar for their food :
But since no gyves that e'er were form'd can bind
That wondrous work of God— the subtle Mind,—

6 NOAH S ARK.
Each man believes his own free Thought alone,
And hugs a secret worship of his own.
Most court the Church — as eager for repose, —
Pleas'd with the peace and plenty she bestows.
Thus timid souls, long buffeted at sea,
To gain a port, have dar'd captivity ;
Thus when, commission'd by the King of kings,
The Deluge swept from earth all living things,
A favour'd few, by Noah taught to embark,
Enjoy'd one common shelter in the ark ;
There tigers, fierce of heart, seem'd half-reclaim'd,
And lick'd the master's hand by hunger tam'd ; —
While curs, grown lazy as too richly fed,
Scarce wagg'd their tails to thank him for his bread ;
Serpents that leer'd on him with treacherous eyes,
Had stung — but knew him able to chastise ;
There monkeys chatter'd, with unmeaning noise,
But knew their lord, and fear'd his awful voice ;
While fiercer beasts glared on their natural prey.
And lick'd their savage lips, but fear'd to slay;
Would growl indeed, but rais'd no serious strife.
For they lov'd shelter and the means of life : —
Thus Hunger tam'd all brutes of savage kind.
Thus sovereign Interest tames the human mind.
Our modern ark a stranger cargo takes —
Meek hypocrites, — tame bigots, — ^lazy rakes ; —
Sure such a strange ship's company is worse
Than serpents, dogs, or tigers, to coerce ; —
Hence beasts of savage natures grown more bold,
Will growl more fiercely than they dar'd of old ;
For Noah, tho' still just, was wise, and brave,
And drown'd offenders in the whelming wave.
Britannia governs with a milder sway.
So mild — her subjects murmur to obey ; —

NOAH S ARK.

Prelates and pamper'd priests her life-blood drain,
Yet loathe an easy mother's lenient reign ;
They like the wages of captivity,
Yet champ the bit, impatient to be free.

See, first, a priest, craz'd past all aid or hope ;
A thorough papist — had he but a pope; —
The tiger bigot, — reeking from the sty
Of a disloyal University ;
For priests are loyal only while they choose ,
And while the Sovereign echoes their own views ; —
He raves of Holy Church, — her power, — her worth,
As Laud or Dunstan were return'd to earth ;
'Twould tire a saint to sit and hear him praise
The dull traditions of old monkish days, —
But for the Bible — 'tis a slippery guide,
Who reads and thinks, shall perish in his pride !
For none should venture in that dangerous book,
Save thro' a parson's spectacles to look.
Reason ! 'tis but pre-eminence in woe ;
Was not bold Luther damn'd for 't long ago ?
Those great reformers all were in the wrong,
Oh how much better had they held their tongue ; —
Then realms, in blessed ignorance content,
Had still endur'd the churchman's government ;
His creed as truth conforming crowds had hail'd.
Anathemas have mov'd where prayers had fail'd ;
Then coward Fear, against all common sense,
Had pass'd on earth for soul-felt Penitence ;
He who with Vice had pleas'd a liquorish taste.
Had bought acquittal by a godly fast;
Gifts had gain'd pardons, — forms had prov'd our zeal; —
('Tis an unfashionable warmth to feel.)
Sceptics and heretics alone decry
The safety of baptismal mummery ;

10 noah's ARK.
They who can't change the heart, may bend the knee,
'Tis not so hard to play the pharisee.

The scarlet Lady, in rich pomp array 'd,
(For meek-ey'd Modesty ill suits her trade,)
Who braves without a blush each outrag'd eye,
At least is open in her enmity.
Well may she dogmatise with lusty zeal.
Who dares proclaim herself Infallible ;
Too haughty she to flatter or deceive
Men who thro' guilt, or ignorance, believe ;
She, still secure, thrives best in darkest times.
Drinks their hot tears, and fattens on their crimes ;
Her claims, her tenets, she disdains to hide,
For sure — Tradition's an unerring guide !
Her famous saints work miracles tho' dead,
And on their church undying lustre shed :
She accepts no half submission from her slaves,
But still with queenly arrogance behaves ;
She reigns- -of no absurdities asham'd,
And you must e'en believe them, — or be damn'd.
Such is the creed enforced by haughty Rorae,
But she's more honest than our popes at home.

These saints outrun all apostolic zeal.
And pant to use the fagot or the steel.
Is then God's Church committed to the rule
Of the hot firebrand — or the cheated fool ?
Or, still more vile, the specious hypocrite,
Who hoodwinks conscience, and appeals to might ?
Oh! was it thus Christ's followers work'd His will?
Did Paul imprison ? or did Peter kill ? —
Yet these, tho' caged, still growl with hideous cry,
And grind their frothy teeth at Heresy.

noah's ARK. 11
O strange ! that such mad " Teachers of the Times"
Should ask reproval, e'en from Satire's rhymes !
Strange that such Tracts from Oxford should proceed,
But far more strange if dupes are found to read.
What ! shall we bow us to the tyrant rod
Of men, who arrogate a power from God ?
Proud priests, — who, for a falling church, dare boast
Exclusive interest in the Holy Ghost ?
Not quite inspir'd, yet half infallible,
They claim the gates of heav'n, the keys of hell.
And doom to vengeance all who dare rebel.
Insane, or artful, they pretend to hold
Authority from martyr'd saints of old !
The Apostles ; — if such was indeed their will,
At least have chosen their successors ill ; —
The honest bigot's zeal let none revile —
But charity forbids us not to smile.

Next comes the old-fashioned Orthodox Divine,
Good at a foxchase, jovial o'er his wine ;
Keen as a greyhound, — if in quest of prey, —
Too indolent to labour — save for pay.
His sabbath-work achiev'd, his toils are o'er,
For who would wait for ever on the poor ?
Not that it matters, in a spiritual view, —
The spell to change the heart he never knew, —
His prosy sermons are sheer loss of time,
Mere moral lectures against glaring crime, —
Conversion, from the Cross alone can flow,
Such truths he never knew — nor car'd to know.
O far too fond of ease and pleasure he
To solve nice points in dry divinity ; —
No bookworm he from midnight studies wan,
But, if no scholar, — quite the gentleman ;

12

NOAHS ARK.

A good fat rosycheek'd and sober soul,
Whose heart yet opens o'er the flowing bowl,
With all his strength he clings to " Church and King,"
And deems the patriot's zeal a wicked thing ; —
He loathes all change, — with present goods content,
And still denounces mawkish sentiment ; —
Proud as a clerk, strict as a magistrate,
He views the rabble with distrust or hate ;
No tyrant he, nor capable of vice,
Save when inflamed by rage, or prejudice ;
He as the shepherd's dog must guard the sheep,
But better loves to eat, drink, hunt, or sleep;
Their woes, their wants, he shudders to behold.
His feelings, if not cruel, yet are cold ;
He pities — but he will not aid distress,
For his besetting sin, is — selfishness.

Last comes the smooth-tongu'd Evangelical,
A saint brimful of piety and gall, —
Flatter'd by friends, by foes too much decried.
Strange compound of humility and pride;
Dead to the world, yet to wealth's charms awake,
And subtle, if not treacherous, as the snake ;
Ordain'd in church theology to shine.
He gulps with ease the glorious Thirty-Nine ;
Next, tho' with qualms, he gorges rubrick law,
For, like the snake's, elastic is his maw ;
For trifling obstacles he scorns to swerve,
And meets objections with unflinching nerve ;
Truth's a fine thing — but who would be content
To wear the brand of infamous Dissent?
Well paid, and grossly prais'd, he curbs his zeal,
Nor quits the Church for the Conventicle ;
Pleas'd with its golden bars he loves his den,
(For saints, alas ! like sinners, are but men,)

noah's ARK. 13
The freedom from old Calvin glean'd can check,
But feels the collar press about his neck; —
Hence he proscribes offended liberty,
And taunts sincerer souls with heresy ;
Low vulgar sects he scornfully reviles,
And basks in wealthy ladies' gracious smiles ;
For this, when he baptizes infancy,
He boldly utters what he deems a lie ;
For this he paints low sinners' lost estate,
But still dilutes the gospel for the great ;
To wealthy saints, when dying, aid affords,
But claims, for Christ, some portion of their hoards ; —
His weapons are fear, praise, and flatteries,
And hints, and testamentary advice : —
Thus in old times, as monkish legends tell,
Priests pluck'd rich sinners from the deepest hell ;
For gifts to parsons are on heav'n bestow'd,
And churches built, — are charity to God.

Shame that the clergy in our wiser age
Should traffic in such barbarous cozenage ;
They but disgrace the cassock or the lawn,
Who stoop to cheat, to flatter, or to fawn.
O grant me patience ! patience I shall want
To achieve the portrait of this precious saint ; —
Who, wanting charity, yet makes pretence
To be a paragon of excellence ;
He names the unthinking clergy with a sneer,
Yet these, if careless, — are not insincere ;
Better to reason with an ignorant tongue
Than know what's right, and knowing cleave to wrong; —
Blame not slow dulness, dulness must be fed;
But let God's saints seek out more honest bread ;
Not hide the truth, lur'd by preferment's prize,
Nor own a ritual which their heart denies ; —

14

NOAH S ARK.

Blame the proud Church that hires a venal race,
Not the unletter'd clerk that fills the place ; —
'Twas his by birthright, Envy cease to rail,
Exact not martyrdom, for man is frail.
Tho' meaner birds fly low, let skylarks climb,
Superior light adds fearful weight to crime ;
God asks no talents where he hath not given,
'Tis wilful ignorance that angers Heav'n.
Do these succeed the Apostles of the Lord ?
Are these the Elect — the stewards of His word?
These — who can barter, with such slight disguise,
Church liberty, for leave to tyrannise ? —
These, who to Christ divided homage bring,
Yet meekly bend to minister or king ? —
They err who spurn His soul-subduing sway,
But they're more false who own, and disobey ;
Christ asks, not learning, — but a soul sincere,
That will not bend for favour, nor for fear.

Yet these pretend uncensur'd, or forgiven.
To climb by a few cant shibboleths to heav'n ;
Nay, worse, acceptance to the best refuse,
If they embrace not their peculiar views.
All save the elect are damn'd. By God's just ire
They share the vengeance of infernal fire ; —
Not on deep guilt alone these pangs shall seize,
Eternal pain admits of no degrees ;
Moral or vicious, all alike must fry : —
Is this religion ? — this, philosophy ? —
But this unpleasing portrait let me close,
I love not these imaginary woes.
The selfish heart, still proud, and prone to crave,
Would make distinctions, even in the grave ;
But they who doom unsparingly to hell,
At least should ransack their own bosoms well.

noah's ark. 15
Yet men live now as in the olden day,
Who come indeed to Christ, but turn away ;
Or, snared by riches, give him but a part, —
Divided rule, — with Mammon, in their heart.
For me, — I view things with impartial eyes ;
Free from all passion, fear, or prejudice.
A poor, blind, wayward heretic I am,
That cannot think it merciful to damn ;
Nor can I hold those priests of men the best.
Who gloat on torments with such soul-felt zest ;
Nor deem him saint thro' whose thin mask I see,
Avarice, — and pride, — and want of charity.
One word for Wesley's sleek society : —
Schismatics from the Church they scarce know why.
Too restless for the fold, — too tame for liberty,
These, having spurn'd the yoke their fathers wore,
Yet wait and loiter round the prison door.
Watchful on earth, — tho' heav'n's immediate heirs ; —
Lynx-ey'd, and anxious for life's pettiest cares ; —
Frugal, yet in all bargains ever keen ; —
In taking, greedy, — but in giving mean ; —
Made up of many passions strangely blent; —
Proud of their wealth, — asham'd of their dissent,
They blame Church tyranny, — it touches them, —
But with faint voice, reluctant to condemn,
For tho' themselves they hate prelatic sway,
They meekly wish all others to obey :
With far more worldliness than e'er found rest
In pious Wesley's charitable breast,
They crouch to power, as fearful to offend,
But act the drudge, or toady, — not the friend :
Like slaves, or cowards, they conceal their aim,
And their free thought in humble whispers claim ; —
Nay, league — and aid the foe to tyrannise,
And lick his feet for leave to apostatise.

16 noah's ark.
Not by such cheats is free Religion won,
She views with scorn each enervated son ;
Their minds are narrow'd to their own dull cause,
Such make no stand for liberty, or laws ; —
Self-interest only makes their choler rise,
'Tis theirs to feign, and fawn, and compromise ;
They will not cheer the oppressor on the pack,
But sneak, and pat the lion on his back ;
Mean were the Church, if such allies could please,
An open foe excelleth friends like these ;
Courage defies, — but will not cheat its prey, —
But they who stoop to flatter, — will betray.

Gladly from these unwelcome themes I turn.
To priests whose hearts with holier ardour burn ;
For some there are, nay some in every sect,
Whose charity demands the soul's respect ;
Men who the paths of duty still have trod.
And toil'd for sinners from a love to God.
Men, for whose censure I should deeply grieve.
Whose praise and love 'tis honour to receive ;
Yes, some there are, wise, honest, firm, and just,
In church, or chapel, faithful to their trust ;
Whose liberal hearts o'erflow with love to men.
Such priests were Wilson, Oberlin, and Penn.

These, loving Christ, seek not the world's applause,
And, lambs at heart, — are lions in His cause ;
These serve the Church for zeal, and not reward,
Ambitious of the favour of their Lord.
No sycophants are they, to observe the time.
They obey the laws, but will not flatter crime.
The sternest truths unflinching they declare,
Nor mince the gospel for the rich man's ear ;

noah's ark. 17
Beggars, or princes, are alike to them,
They dare not cry content, if Christ condemn.

Such priests as these long may the Church retain,
Who serve their God from duty, — not for gain ;
Who ask no gratitude, and know no guile,
And baffle eager Malice by a smile.
Such men are fearless, tho' they meekly bear,
And tho' conforming, free as mountain air :
They deem their Church religion's shield to be,
Her peaceful haven from a troubled sea ;
The rage of angry sects with fear have view'd,
And deem a state-religion greater good.
These upright men from me need no defence.
Earth hath no surer shield than innocence ;
Unmov'd they watch the shafts of satire fly.
And, self acquitted, fear no obloquy.
These, full of Christian brotherhood concede
To all alike free liberty of creed ;
Stray sheep they fail not to their fold to call,
But still respect, and love, and pray for all ;
Far from all taint of pride, or avarice,
Such priests were Barrow, Latimer, and Price ;
Love beams for ever from their noble brow,
Such Heber was — and such is Noel now.

Blest with such sons a Church takes firmer root.
The tree is prized that bears such goodly fruit;
True piety still pleases ev'ry eye,
And none pays homage more sincere than I ;
The Church hath sons, unwarp'd by private ends,
(Some such I'm proud to number as my friends,)
Whose virtuous breasts glow with a gen'rous flame,
God's glory and man's happiness their aim. c

20 noah's ark.
None unperverted sigh for golden ore,
Reformers in all ages have been poor ;
The holiest saints, while Christian truth was young,
Were meek at heart, but daring with their tongue ;
Let such proud prelates ask themselves if Paul
Proclaim'd his Saviour with a sleepy drawl ?

Not but that preachers may be over-warm, —
For zeal without discretion may do harm ;
There needs no eloquence the soul to thaw,
But feeling, temper'd by a reverend awe.
High genius (if a boon) to few is given,
But all who have learn'd may teach the road to heav'n;
The priest who raves with an intemp'rate zeal
Becomes the laughter of the infidel ;
Nay, seems to put religion's self to shame,
As too familiar with his Master's name.
Cool judgment still should rule ; all I would say
Is, they who call to prayer, themselves should pray ;
Should quail at no man's frown, in virtue bold,
And prize their Maker's favour more than gold.

Ah ! men should pause ere they presume to preach.
And strive to practise what their precepts teach;
Nature is frail, and still asserts her sway,
But he's half-sav'd who wishes to obey.
How dull, how pow'rless are all outward forms —
'Tis holy gratitude the heart that warms ;
God ne'er refus'd one soul-felt prayer to hear,
Deaf to the proud, He pardons the sincere.

My Muse selects the Church for chastisement,
Because more fear'd and favor'd than Dissent ; —

NOAH S ARK. 21
Not that her clergy more in duty fail
Than specious hypocrites without her pale ; —
Not that she takes a more intolerant course,
Or less appeals to right, or more to force.
Fanatics — could her powers devolve on them,
Might far exceed the oppressions they condemn ;
He's no true friend to hberty of creed
Who craves, — but is unwilhng to concede.
Let Reason's foes succumb to Rome at once,
If mind misleads, how happy is the dunce ; —
False bigots cry for anarchy aloud,
In hope to impose their fetters on the crowd : —
Thus in all ages charletans will sigh
For power to oppress — and call it liberty.

More of fierce sects or churchmen wouldst thou know.
To History's records for instruction go ; —
There learn to shudder at sectarian rage,
And ponder o'er each melancholy page.
All seem enthrall'd by one unvarying spell,
Each church believes itself infallible ;
Hence racks and chains, and heaven-avenging fire.
As tho' man's errors mov'd the Almighty's ire.
There seems a cloud of bigotry and fear,
A weight in all cathedral atmosphere ;
A man may be kind, just, and free from pride,
Nay, have a leaning to the liberal side,
But let some bishop once pronounce him priest,
And a new feeling animates his breast ;
'Tis true some rare exceptions may be found,
But these are scorn'd as feeble, or unsound ;
The genuine priest, of all persuasions, sighs
For pomp, and wealth, and power to tyrannise :
Men differ, — some are subtle, — some sincere, —
But every clergy loves to domineer ;

22 noah's ARK.
Hence all unite Heaven's vengeance to proclaim.
As God had made his creatures but to damn ;
Unjust to beings liable to err,
A stern and savage executioner ;
All, urg'd by zeal, or malice, seem to vie
In hbels upon Nature's Deity.
Our planet Earth is fair, — oh ! passing fair !
And glorious are the countless worlds in air !
The godhke sun imparts a cheering heat, —
The cooling waters gurgle at our feet, —
The graceful trees afford voluptuous shade,
And of their fruits are luscious banquets made ; —
The happy birds in ease and pleasure sing,
Dart over seas, and joy in endless spring ; —
All free creation teems with happiness, —
The aim of nature ever is to bless.
But ah ! vile man ! to scourge his brother lives,
And turns to pain the life Heaven's bounty gives.
Thus priests still gloat on fires where damn'd one's dwell,
And feed their hate with brain-born dreams of hell;
Alas ! by crippling freedom, mind, and worth.
They've manag'd to create a hell on earth ;
The rich profusion of the fairest lands,
Is blasted by their parricidal hands ;
No art could feign, no future world display,
Fiends, or more heartless, or more fierce than they.

lU-natur'd men, who love these monstrous themes,
Prove their dark wishes by their dismal dreams.
Oh! is it just to doom to endless flame,
Without distinction, all they can't reclaim ?
Must all, save Christians, share one common fate
With the bold villain, and loose reprobate ? —
Must sceptics, and all virtuous heathens, lie
Link'd with the meanest souls in infamy ? —

noah's ark. 23
Sinner and sage in one damnation pack'd ?
Is this the Eternal Ruler's righteous act ? —
Is this the doom reserv'd for erring man ? —
Is this the God of Mercy's gracious plan ? —
No ! 'tis the sland'rous tale bad priests impart.
Who judge their God from their own savage heart;
Who, blind as moles, proscribe superior sense,
And make a devil of Omnipotence.
Sorrow and sin are firmly link'd by Heaven,
None can be blest whose crimes are unforgiven ;
But 'tis paternal mercy to reprove,
And Heaven's worst anger may be meant in love ;
If pain, however sharp, the heart renew,
The sternest justice then is mercy too ;
Kind are the stripes that vanquish sin's control,
That moral plague, that ulcer of the soul :
Who would not bear awhile, at length to be
A sharer in a blest eternity ?
What men call wrath, in mercy may be sent,
For who shall say how spirits' may repent ?
But priests, in pompous ignorance sublime,
Are still the same in every place or time;
They preach as no new truths had been proclaim'd
Since first their creeds and articles were framed ;
Narrow in mind, they cling to musty rules,
As tho' philosophy were made for fools ; —
They groan and sigh, and shake the solemn head,
And think to scare free thought by vulgar dread;
But Science views them with a scornful eye,
And smiles, and bites her lip, — nor deigns reply.

There needs no priest to teach most men of sense
Belief in a directing Providence. —
By hard experience useful truths are won,
And life hath bitter lessons none may shun.

24

noahs ark.

We partly see how good from evil flows,
We feel how faith can mitigate our woes,
But who shall speak Redemption's vast extent,
Or grasp the soul's mysterious chastisement.
Priestcraft the bigot, — slave, — or fool, may bind.
The wise man's Church is his own honest mind ;
Unprejudiced, unshackled, and alone,
By patient study he makes truth his own ;
He soars aloft on tneditation's wings,
And deeply ponders upon sacred things ;
He sighs for heav'n, and takes the nearest road
But bears no meddler between him and God ;
Humble, not blind, he knows his fellow worm.
If not dishonest, is like him infirm ;
With deep sincerity his Bible reads.
And strives to follow where his conscience leads ; —
He errs indeed, — as frail, and form'd of clay,
But mourns for sin, and struggles to obey ;
Whate'er their views such Christians need not fear,
Provided that they be indeed sincere ;
God asks perfection in this world from none,
'Twas for lost sinners that He gave His Son;
He hates all pride, — He scorns all formal art, —
His sacrifice is still the contrite heart ;
The noblest church that ever graced the earth.
In the Creator's eye had little worth ;
He reads men's thoughts — the offerings He requires.
Are soul-felt thanks, — beneficent desires ; —
His temple is the heart, — let none despair,
Whate'er their creed— if Charity be there.

OXFORD : PRINIED BY H. ALDEN.

^'•^

^tV'