XVIII.

The gloom that gathered o'er our Father's breast,
He strove with heavy effort to dispel;
"Elder!" he said, "thou art an honored guest;
To see our ancient friends should please us well;
Thy journey long must give the banquet zest

Come and partake our sylvan meal, and tell
The while what word or tidings thou mayst bear
From Plymouth's rulers and our brethren there."

XIX.

"Williams," he said, "I need no food of thine
The wilds I thread not without store my own;
But I would fain beneath that roof recline

To-night, and rest my limbs till morn be shown;
And there this eve some reasoning, I opine,
(For all may err,) a weighty theme upon,
May not be deemed amiss. Perchance a light
Will on thee break and set thy feet aright."

XX.

"Elder, whatever themes," our Founder said, "My scant attainments fit me to essay, Shall not avoidance have from any dread

That thy strict logic may my faults betray;

That all may err,' means that our friends have strayed, And not that we have wandered from the way;

It is a maxim to perversion grown,

And points to others' faults to hide our own.

XXI.

"But as my Plymouth visitor requests,

We'll seek that cottage; I have called it mine, These hands have built it; but all friendly guests May call it theirs, and, Elder, it is thine

While thou sojournest here. Whoever rests
Beneath its roof may not expect a fine,
A dungeon, scourge, or even banishment,
For heresy avowed, or doubted sentiment."

XXII.

They sought the cottage. Its apartments rude,
But still a shelter from the cold and heat,
A cheerful fire and fur-clad settles shewed,

And other comforts, simple, plain, and neat. The Elder paused, and all the mansion viewed, Then, with a long-drawn sigh, he took his seat, And briefly added "Thou hast labored, friend, Hard very hard! I hope for worthy end."

XXIII.

He paused again, then solemnly began
A sad relation of the Church's state;
O'er many a schism and false doctrine ran,
That had obtruded on its peace of late;
But most alarming was our Founder's plan,

To leave things sacred to the free debate;
To make faith bow to erring reason's shrine,
And mortal man a judge of creeds divine.

XXIV.

"This simple truth no Christian man denies,' He thus continued, "that the natural mind

Is prone to evil as the sparks to rise,

And to the good is obstinately blind;

Who then sees not, that looks with wisdom's eyes,
That God's elect should rule the human kind?

The good should govern, and the bad submit,
And saints alone are for dominion fit?"

XXV.

Our Founder answered, "Art thou from the pit?
Get thee behind me, if such thoughts be thine;
Did Christ his gospel to the world commit,
That his meek followers might in purple shine?
He spurned the foul temptation, it is writ,

And the Great Tempter felt his power divine;
Art thou far wiser than thy Master grown,

And spurn'st a heavenly for an earthly crown?"

XXVI.

"Nay nay, friend Williams!" the grave elder cried, "It is that crown of glory to secure

That the True Church should for her saints provide
The shield of law 'gainst heresy impure;

Quell every schism crush the towering pride
Of the dark Tempter, ere his reign is sure;
For many
finds he who are servants meet

To sow for him the tares among the wheat.

XXVII.

"Men ever busy, searching for the new,

Scanning our creed as if it doubtful were, These would we hold perforce our doctrines to, And the vain labor to convert them spare; God may in time their restless souls renew,

And give them of his grace a saving share; Meanwhile our Church their errors would restrain, And to her creed their wayward minds enchain."

XXVIII.

"A mortal thou! our Founder here replied, "Yet judge of conscience,

searcher of the heart

Thou, the elect? — but if it be denied,

How wilt thou prove it, or its proofs impart?

God gave to man that bright angelic guide,

A reasoning soul, his being's better part; — He gave her freedom; but thou wouldst confine And cramp her action to that creed of thine.

XXIX.

"Who binds the soul extends the reign of hell;
She's formed to err, but, erring, truth to find;
Pity her wanderings, but, O never quell

The bold aspirings of this angel blind!
God is her strength within, and bids her spell,
By outward promptings, the eternal Mind:
Long may she wander still in quest of light,
But day will dawn at last upon a polar night."

XXX.

"A dangerous tenet that!" the Elder said;
"A fallen angel doubtless she may be ;
If truth she find by natural reason's aid,
It ever leads her to some heresy ;
Indeed, the truth too often is betrayed

To minds ill-fitted for inquiry free;

From bad to worse, from worse to worst we go,
And end our being in eternal woe.

XXXI.

"Nature's own truths do oft the mind mislead;

From partial glimpses men will judge the whole ;

And it were better if our Church's creed

Were learning's object and its utmost goal; Reason would then no higher purpose need, Than, by it, point the yet erratic soul

To her high hope and everlasting rest!

Williams this heard, and spake with kindling breast:

XXXII.

"God gave man reason, that his soul might be
Free as his glance that spans the universe;
All things around him prompt inquiry free,
All do his reason to research coerce;

The Heavens, the Earth, the many breeding sea,
All have their shapes and qualities to nurse
The soul's aspirings, and, from blooming youth
To ripe old age, provoke the quest of truth.

XXXIII.

"Truth! I would know thee wert thou e'er so bad,
Bad as thy persecutors deem or fear,

Wert thou in more than Gorgon terrors clad,
Thy glance a death to every feeling dear;
Taught thou that God a demon's passions had,

That Earth is Hell, and that the damned dwell here,
And death the end of all; still would I know

The total Curse

the sum of being's woe.

XXXIV.

"Yet fear not this, for each new truth reveals Of God a nearer and a brighter view; Anticipation lags behind, and feels

How mean her thought at each discovery new; Her stars were stones fired in revolving wheels

Truth! thine are worlds self-moved the boundless through Who checks man's Reason in her heavenward flight, Would shroud, O God! thy glorious works in night!

XXXV.

"Whence didst thou learn that the Almighty's plan
Required thy wisdom to protect and save,

That, when he sent his Gospel down to man,
Thou to defend it must the soul enslave,