The Fortunes of Faith or, Church and State. A Poem by Thomas Hornblower Gill |
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| I. |
| II. | BOOK II. |
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| IV. |
 | The Fortunes of Faith |  |
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BOOK II.
ARGUMENT.
The labours of Prometheus compared with the early deeds of the Christian Church, his captivity and sufferings with her subjection to worldly power and its evil consequences, his struggle with pain, and his deliverance from bondage with the resistance offered by the spirit of Christianity to the evil influences of the world, and its final victory over them. The manner in which the State seduced the Church—the manifold evils resulting thence—the degradation of her ministers—their servility towards the prince—their dissensions with each other—the interference of the prince in settling theological discussions, and arranging articles of faith—the invention of creeds—the beginning of persecutions —the good example of St. Ambrose and St. Chrysostom insufficient to stay the general degeneracy—the monks, the worship of images, and the sale of relics, strengthen priestcraft. The degraded state of the church at the appearance of Mohammed—the probable intent and destiny of Mohammedanism. The power of the Popes, illustrated by the submission of the Emperor Henry IV;—the way in which the Roman Church availed herself of her sainted dead—the instance of Becket—the great era of Papal supremacy and corruption—the extermination of the Albigenses—the establishment of the Inquisition—Wickliff, the persecution of his followers—the martyrdom of John Huss and Jerome of Prague—the war with the Hussites—the revival of ancient learning, and the invention of printing, instrumental in urging the march of Truth.
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“Wolves shall succeed to teachers, grievous wolves—
Who all the sacred mysteries of heaven
To their own vile advantages shall turn,
Of ?ucre, and ambition, and the truth
With superstitions and traditions taint,
Left only in those written records pure;
Then shall they seek to avail themselves of names,
Places, and titles, and with these to join
Secular power, though feigning still to act
By spiritual, to themselves appropriating
The spirit of God, promised alike and given
To all believers, and from that pretence
Spiritual laws by carnal power shall force
On every conscience.”—
Par. Lost, b. 12, v. 508—20.
Who all the sacred mysteries of heaven
To their own vile advantages shall turn,
Of ?ucre, and ambition, and the truth
With superstitions and traditions taint,
Left only in those written records pure;
Then shall they seek to avail themselves of names,
Places, and titles, and with these to join
Secular power, though feigning still to act
By spiritual, to themselves appropriating
The spirit of God, promised alike and given
To all believers, and from that pretence
Spiritual laws by carnal power shall force
On every conscience.”—
Par. Lost, b. 12, v. 508—20.
The fire-Purloiner, who awoke mankind,
And bold in mercy lighted up the mind,
Provoked the jealous gods to work his woe,
And fell their victim, yet survived their foe.
Slave of the fetter, tenant of the steep,
Denied the bliss of death, the balm of sleep,
He bore the pangs their growing hate increased,
Nor grudged the vulture its diurnal feast.
And ages saw the direful strife renewed,
Jove unappeased—Prometheus unsubdued!
The vulture sternly constant to his prey,
Prolonged the pang in impotence to slay.
Strong in the iron-will that warred with fate,
True to the love that woke Almighty hate,
The Titan triumphed in the bright offence,
Nor sued for grace, nor stooped to penitence,
Nor mourned his mercy in despairing mood,
Nor cursed the past, irresolute in good;
With tyrant might that tortured heart still strove,
Still wildly beat in brave disdain of Jove,
Sublimely soared above the wish to die,
And nobly wore its immortality.
And bold in mercy lighted up the mind,
Provoked the jealous gods to work his woe,
And fell their victim, yet survived their foe.
Slave of the fetter, tenant of the steep,
Denied the bliss of death, the balm of sleep,
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Nor grudged the vulture its diurnal feast.
And ages saw the direful strife renewed,
Jove unappeased—Prometheus unsubdued!
The vulture sternly constant to his prey,
Prolonged the pang in impotence to slay.
Strong in the iron-will that warred with fate,
True to the love that woke Almighty hate,
The Titan triumphed in the bright offence,
Nor sued for grace, nor stooped to penitence,
Nor mourned his mercy in despairing mood,
Nor cursed the past, irresolute in good;
With tyrant might that tortured heart still strove,
Still wildly beat in brave disdain of Jove,
Sublimely soared above the wish to die,
And nobly wore its immortality.
But wrath can blast, and woe endure too long,
A hero gloried to redress the wrong.
Love hailed his advent, Pity urged his tread;
Fate winged the shaft indignant Mercy sped;
The vulture dropped, the captive burst his chain;
Heaven claimed her banished son, Prometheus smiled again!
A hero gloried to redress the wrong.
Love hailed his advent, Pity urged his tread;
Fate winged the shaft indignant Mercy sped;
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Heaven claimed her banished son, Prometheus smiled again!
Dread fate! Love's gracious bidding to fulfil,
And win the awful meed of endless ill;
Cling to that Love unconquered through the doom,
And dare the death-pang, yet defy the tomb.
But say, can aught that Truth's stern records show,
Match the grand horror of imagined woe?
Yes! Earth has smiled in evil joy to see
A deadlier strife—a longer agony.
Sublimer Mercy triumph but to mourn,
And fiercer Wrath inflict a like return!
And win the awful meed of endless ill;
Cling to that Love unconquered through the doom,
And dare the death-pang, yet defy the tomb.
But say, can aught that Truth's stern records show,
Match the grand horror of imagined woe?
Yes! Earth has smiled in evil joy to see
A deadlier strife—a longer agony.
Sublimer Mercy triumph but to mourn,
And fiercer Wrath inflict a like return!
Death's sable pall o'er trembling nature hung,
Heaven stooped to earth—the Church of God upsprung!
Love yoked her being to this fading sphere,
Gave her an end, a hope, a triumph here;
She won the world in potency of grace,
Life in her smile, and bliss in her embrace,
Dispensed no niggard joy, no stinted love,
But led the universal march above.
Heaven stooped to earth—the Church of God upsprung!
Love yoked her being to this fading sphere,
Gave her an end, a hope, a triumph here;
She won the world in potency of grace,
Life in her smile, and bliss in her embrace,
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But led the universal march above.
Heaven hailed the bloodless triumph half achieved,
Man dared to hope, but stricken Evil grieved,
Bewailed the darkness rent, the fetter riven,
And Earth ennobled by the sway of Heaven;
Nor boldly faced the chosen of the sky,
But wooed the victor to captivity,
Her chain a sceptre, and a throne her rock;
Doomed her to trial worse than tempest's shock,
Matured the work of woe with ruthless art,
And loosed a vulture band upon that heart;
Each lawless impulse, each unhallowed lust,
That yoke their slaves in servitude to dust—
The roving horde of passions, boldly gross,
Swift, savage, strong, impatient, ravenous;
Foul, shameless gluttons, that all good devour,
And feel it famine to forbear an hour,
Came fiercely hungry at the infernal call,
Thronged in dread revel round their fettered thrall,
Rejoiced to clutch the long-forbidden prey,
And wrung their nurture from her agony.
Man dared to hope, but stricken Evil grieved,
Bewailed the darkness rent, the fetter riven,
And Earth ennobled by the sway of Heaven;
Nor boldly faced the chosen of the sky,
But wooed the victor to captivity,
Her chain a sceptre, and a throne her rock;
Doomed her to trial worse than tempest's shock,
Matured the work of woe with ruthless art,
And loosed a vulture band upon that heart;
Each lawless impulse, each unhallowed lust,
That yoke their slaves in servitude to dust—
The roving horde of passions, boldly gross,
Swift, savage, strong, impatient, ravenous;
Foul, shameless gluttons, that all good devour,
And feel it famine to forbear an hour,
Came fiercely hungry at the infernal call,
Thronged in dread revel round their fettered thrall,
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And wrung their nurture from her agony.
Age sped the march of age, the feast still lures;
The vulture passions prey, the Church endures;
Yes! they could blast her in their foul embrace,
Stay the strong current of spontaneous grace.
And rive her heart in endless lust of food,
Yet armed with deathless strength the Victim stood;
She bore the stamp of God, she breathed of heaven,
To quell that breath no potency was given;
Hell worked his will, the enduring Love still glowed;
The life drops streamed, but still their fountain flowed.
The vulture passions prey, the Church endures;
Yes! they could blast her in their foul embrace,
Stay the strong current of spontaneous grace.
And rive her heart in endless lust of food,
Yet armed with deathless strength the Victim stood;
She bore the stamp of God, she breathed of heaven,
To quell that breath no potency was given;
Hell worked his will, the enduring Love still glowed;
The life drops streamed, but still their fountain flowed.
But say, shall rampant Ill securely dare,
And trampled Mercy breathe a bootless prayer?
Oh no! her voice is raised, her arm is bared,
The vengeance ripe, the crowning joy prepared!
Her mighty minister, the Book of Life,
In re-awakened strength shall court the strife!
Grace claim her final triumph from the Word;
The gospel arrows smite the vulture horde;
Heaven's thunders ring upon the yielding chain;
Love wake his poeans o'er the closing pain;
The rescued Church surpass her deeds of old,
Enclose the willing world within her fold,
From lowly bonds to raptured conquest rise,
And blend her deathless being with the skies!
And trampled Mercy breathe a bootless prayer?
Oh no! her voice is raised, her arm is bared,
The vengeance ripe, the crowning joy prepared!
Her mighty minister, the Book of Life,
In re-awakened strength shall court the strife!
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The gospel arrows smite the vulture horde;
Heaven's thunders ring upon the yielding chain;
Love wake his poeans o'er the closing pain;
The rescued Church surpass her deeds of old,
Enclose the willing world within her fold,
From lowly bonds to raptured conquest rise,
And blend her deathless being with the skies!
But cease, fond Muse, on distant bliss to dream,
That casts forbidden brightness o'er my theme;
The Child of Heaven has stooped to league with dust!
The Minister of Love betrayed her trust:
Has won the prize her earthward gaze revealed,
And reaped the fruit that sin's full harvests yield!
Truth, lift thy trumpet! sound a warning blast!
Restore the awful presence of the Past!
Expose the blighting of the gospel fruit,
Lay bare the woe of ages to its root,
Bid Evil triumph in her holy nurse,
And track through tears and blood, the speeding curse!
That casts forbidden brightness o'er my theme;
The Child of Heaven has stooped to league with dust!
The Minister of Love betrayed her trust:
Has won the prize her earthward gaze revealed,
And reaped the fruit that sin's full harvests yield!
Truth, lift thy trumpet! sound a warning blast!
Restore the awful presence of the Past!
Expose the blighting of the gospel fruit,
Lay bare the woe of ages to its root,
Bid Evil triumph in her holy nurse,
And track through tears and blood, the speeding curse!
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The world gave way, its sceptred terrors failed,
Its mighty foe,—the woe-nursed Church prevailed.
Oh! had the careless Victor read aright
The terms her triumph won from mortal might,
Unveiled their sense, and weighed their little worth,
Her star-like lustre had not paled on earth;
Her strength had scorned the durance of a throne,
Nor angel guides, nor martyr guardians flown;
Nor Glory stung, nor Victory undone:
The field was nobly fought, but dearly won.
True; Wisdom bade the useless warfare cease,
And Hope and Mercy blessed the mutual peace;
The Church should thus have mingled with the World,
Nor Heaven and Earth in jarring league been hurled:
A distant smile been all that Kings could win,
And parted sway have spared the common sin.
Its mighty foe,—the woe-nursed Church prevailed.
Oh! had the careless Victor read aright
The terms her triumph won from mortal might,
Unveiled their sense, and weighed their little worth,
Her star-like lustre had not paled on earth;
Her strength had scorned the durance of a throne,
Nor angel guides, nor martyr guardians flown;
Nor Glory stung, nor Victory undone:
The field was nobly fought, but dearly won.
True; Wisdom bade the useless warfare cease,
And Hope and Mercy blessed the mutual peace;
The Church should thus have mingled with the World,
Nor Heaven and Earth in jarring league been hurled:
A distant smile been all that Kings could win,
And parted sway have spared the common sin.
But 'twas not thus the fires of strife should die,
Imperial Might disdained the holy tie;
Clay-kindled Faith and sway-cemented Love,
A faster bond, a stronger fetter wove,
In earthly service tasked the strength of Heaven,
And lured to sin where Death in vain had driven.
Earth's despots sued the Champion of the skies,
Preferred a vassal prayer in vanquished guise,
Resigned the sword that struck but could not harm,
Assumed the winning smile, the potent charm,
Implored such grace as sentenced felons crave,
And wept repentance o'er each martyr's grave,
Described in contrite Grief's persuasive tone,
The luring splendours of an earthly throne,
Essayed the arts that wither while they win,
And urged in Virtue's garb the suit of Sin.
Imperial Might disdained the holy tie;
Clay-kindled Faith and sway-cemented Love,
A faster bond, a stronger fetter wove,
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And lured to sin where Death in vain had driven.
Earth's despots sued the Champion of the skies,
Preferred a vassal prayer in vanquished guise,
Resigned the sword that struck but could not harm,
Assumed the winning smile, the potent charm,
Implored such grace as sentenced felons crave,
And wept repentance o'er each martyr's grave,
Described in contrite Grief's persuasive tone,
The luring splendours of an earthly throne,
Essayed the arts that wither while they win,
And urged in Virtue's garb the suit of Sin.
The prayer was humbly made, nor nobly spurned,
No glance of scorn, no words of wrath returned;
The Victor bade her pardoned suppliant rise,
And smiled acceptance of the worthless prize:
The sceptred impotence, the courtly show,
Seemed full requital for her glorious woe;
And mitred worldlings blessed the martyr's doom,
Since Kings revered each shade, and decked each tomb.
The sceptre dropped pollution on the cross,
The Church resigned the gold to seize the dross.
No longer saints may watch, or Heaven defend,
Earth brought her strength, and princes called her friend.
For Dust and Sin she dared the wrongful deed,
From Dust and Sin she won the tainted meed.
See rampant Crime a gospel sanction claim,
And call on Heaven to bless each deed of shame!
Within the shrine Ambition spread its feast;
Gain win a faithful vassal in the priest;
Fanatic Gloom obscure the light of faith,
And bigot Fury aim the dart of death;
Frenzy exult in self-inflicted pain,
Deal the red lash and drag the clanking chain.
No glance of scorn, no words of wrath returned;
The Victor bade her pardoned suppliant rise,
And smiled acceptance of the worthless prize:
The sceptred impotence, the courtly show,
Seemed full requital for her glorious woe;
And mitred worldlings blessed the martyr's doom,
Since Kings revered each shade, and decked each tomb.
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The Church resigned the gold to seize the dross.
No longer saints may watch, or Heaven defend,
Earth brought her strength, and princes called her friend.
For Dust and Sin she dared the wrongful deed,
From Dust and Sin she won the tainted meed.
See rampant Crime a gospel sanction claim,
And call on Heaven to bless each deed of shame!
Within the shrine Ambition spread its feast;
Gain win a faithful vassal in the priest;
Fanatic Gloom obscure the light of faith,
And bigot Fury aim the dart of death;
Frenzy exult in self-inflicted pain,
Deal the red lash and drag the clanking chain.
The guides who shewed the infant Church her path,
Nor knew the world save in its scorn and wrath;
Who swayed their flock in amplitude of love,
And asked no guerdon save the bliss above;
Who urged the Truth to victor strife with Pain,
And heavenward-speeding led the martyr train,
On world-untainted faith their empire built,
And left their heirs the grandeur and the guilt.
But these disdainful of the glory known,
The sinless sway, the unpolluted throne,
Forsook the martyr's charge, the Saviour's care
To gaze on sceptred joys and claim a share;
Found Faith the fairer for a king's embrace,
And tainted courts the favourite soil of grace,
Invested Heaven with Earth's ungenial mould,
Stamped might on right, and sanctity on gold,
For royal vices kept a sightless eye,
Excused the lust, nor shunned the revelry,
Smiled foul approval of the bigot's joy,
Nor stayed the tyrant's impulse to destroy,
Lived in his smile and withered at his frown,
Defiled the Cross, to consecrate the Crown.
Conformed their conscience to a monarch's nod,
And served the creature, to forget the God;
Or, far from courtier sin and palace broil,
With fiercer effort grasped an equal spoil.
Lo! saintly rivals claimed the people's voice;
Arms tried the cause and ratified the choice;
Ambitious fear approved what force had done;
The pastor bruised the flock his sword had won.
Nor knew the world save in its scorn and wrath;
Who swayed their flock in amplitude of love,
And asked no guerdon save the bliss above;
Who urged the Truth to victor strife with Pain,
And heavenward-speeding led the martyr train,
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And left their heirs the grandeur and the guilt.
But these disdainful of the glory known,
The sinless sway, the unpolluted throne,
Forsook the martyr's charge, the Saviour's care
To gaze on sceptred joys and claim a share;
Found Faith the fairer for a king's embrace,
And tainted courts the favourite soil of grace,
Invested Heaven with Earth's ungenial mould,
Stamped might on right, and sanctity on gold,
For royal vices kept a sightless eye,
Excused the lust, nor shunned the revelry,
Smiled foul approval of the bigot's joy,
Nor stayed the tyrant's impulse to destroy,
Lived in his smile and withered at his frown,
Defiled the Cross, to consecrate the Crown.
Conformed their conscience to a monarch's nod,
And served the creature, to forget the God;
Or, far from courtier sin and palace broil,
With fiercer effort grasped an equal spoil.
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Arms tried the cause and ratified the choice;
Ambitious fear approved what force had done;
The pastor bruised the flock his sword had won.
The factions in the realms of Faith and Thought,
That lightly took up arms, yet fiercely fought;
That wooed the brightness of one common blaze,
But caught its splendour in contending rays;
That searched the stores Heaven's oracles dispense,
Yet only read to find a jarring sense,
No longer tried their strength in learned strife,
Nor looked for conquest to the Book of Life,
But prayed the judgment of a mortal lord,
And left the final sentence to the sword.
That lightly took up arms, yet fiercely fought;
That wooed the brightness of one common blaze,
But caught its splendour in contending rays;
That searched the stores Heaven's oracles dispense,
Yet only read to find a jarring sense,
No longer tried their strength in learned strife,
Nor looked for conquest to the Book of Life,
But prayed the judgment of a mortal lord,
And left the final sentence to the sword.
Then priestly daring soared to higher sin;
Each jarring faction, as it chanced to win,
Strong in the monarch's aid, the courtier's smile,
Assumed the lordly tone, the tyrant-style;
Forbade devotion save in strains it taught,
Prescribed the form of faith, the flow of thought,
Exhausted guilt its despot sway to speed,
And hailed its monster offspring in the Creed,
'Gainst fancied Error dealt a stern award,
From earth's enjoyments, Heaven's salvation barred,
With impious hand the damning sentence writ,
For future sin the bigot beacon lit,
Assumed a foul monopoly of light,
And won submission from congenial Night.
Each jarring faction, as it chanced to win,
Strong in the monarch's aid, the courtier's smile,
Assumed the lordly tone, the tyrant-style;
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Prescribed the form of faith, the flow of thought,
Exhausted guilt its despot sway to speed,
And hailed its monster offspring in the Creed,
'Gainst fancied Error dealt a stern award,
From earth's enjoyments, Heaven's salvation barred,
With impious hand the damning sentence writ,
For future sin the bigot beacon lit,
Assumed a foul monopoly of light,
And won submission from congenial Night.
Nor priests pursued the work of shame alone;
Faith took her varying fashion from the throne;
Imperial Pride its sacred skill would prove,
And match its wisdom with the light above;
Bade creed on creed the wildered world invade,
Enforced each rule that fickle fancy made,
Proposed the mitre as Submission's meed,
And doomed the Faith that would not bend to bleed:
Nor lured to sin, nor doomed to woe, in vain;
Few bore the loss, but many sought the gain;
Earth yearnings nursed the fear that Love could brave,
And saintly Champion sunk to palace slave.
Faith took her varying fashion from the throne;
Imperial Pride its sacred skill would prove,
And match its wisdom with the light above;
Bade creed on creed the wildered world invade,
Enforced each rule that fickle fancy made,
Proposed the mitre as Submission's meed,
And doomed the Faith that would not bend to bleed:
Nor lured to sin, nor doomed to woe, in vain;
Few bore the loss, but many sought the gain;
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And saintly Champion sunk to palace slave.
As martyrs set their stedfast gaze on high,
Achieved their work with earth-averted eye,
Invoked the words of doom, the death of shame,
And hailed the bliss that beckoned through the flame;
So mitred throngs as stedfastly looked down,
Felt equal ardour for a fading crown,
Laid hold on power though sin might be the price,
And deemed the palace bondage Paradise.
Achieved their work with earth-averted eye,
Invoked the words of doom, the death of shame,
And hailed the bliss that beckoned through the flame;
So mitred throngs as stedfastly looked down,
Felt equal ardour for a fading crown,
Laid hold on power though sin might be the price,
And deemed the palace bondage Paradise.
The plague spot spread, but some repelled the taint,
Nor show of sanctity made every saint;
Grace still delayed, in sorrow to depart,
And virtue lingered in a prelate's heart,—
Upraised her voice against the rash award,
That gave an erring city to the sword,
Disdained the sovereign in the man of blood,
Imperial prayers, repentant tears withstood,
To sceptred guilt no courtly balm applied,
The kiss of peace, the cup of grace denied,
Appalled the conscience, woke its keenest sense,
Nor took regret in place of penitence,
Bade public Shame its chastening presence lend,
And in the penitent embraced the friend;
Nor made Chrysostom less divinely strong,
Stood forth in eloquent disdain of wrong,
From sceptred vices dared to rend the screen,
Brave a base court and brand a guilty queen;
Awoke imperial dread in exiled gloom,
And dealt triumphant vengeance from the tomb.
Nor show of sanctity made every saint;
Grace still delayed, in sorrow to depart,
And virtue lingered in a prelate's heart,—
Upraised her voice against the rash award,
That gave an erring city to the sword,
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Imperial prayers, repentant tears withstood,
To sceptred guilt no courtly balm applied,
The kiss of peace, the cup of grace denied,
Appalled the conscience, woke its keenest sense,
Nor took regret in place of penitence,
Bade public Shame its chastening presence lend,
And in the penitent embraced the friend;
Nor made Chrysostom less divinely strong,
Stood forth in eloquent disdain of wrong,
From sceptred vices dared to rend the screen,
Brave a base court and brand a guilty queen;
Awoke imperial dread in exiled gloom,
And dealt triumphant vengeance from the tomb.
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But oh! no single arm, no partial light,
Had power to stay the fall, to scare the night;
The recreant Church enjoyed the chains she wore,
And loved her worldly sway, and treasured store.
To spread that potency, to swell that hoard,
She bade perverted Faith her aid afford;
Each pious deed became a foul abuse,
Each holy feeling served for damning use.
Had power to stay the fall, to scare the night;
The recreant Church enjoyed the chains she wore,
And loved her worldly sway, and treasured store.
To spread that potency, to swell that hoard,
She bade perverted Faith her aid afford;
Each pious deed became a foul abuse,
Each holy feeling served for damning use.
The saintly men who spurned the thought of fame,
And mourned such service as the world could claim;
Who shunned each spot where mortals might intrude,
Nor sought salvation save in solitude,
And yet attracted to the desert cell
The worldly gaze they gloried to repel:
Soon craved the homage that they once had spurned,
To sovereign sway their lonely leisure turned,
Invoked auxiliar potency from pain,
Employed fast, penance, vigil, scourge and chain,
Sustained the Church, partook her guilty toil,
And claimed an equal interest in the spoil.
And mourned such service as the world could claim;
Who shunned each spot where mortals might intrude,
Nor sought salvation save in solitude,
And yet attracted to the desert cell
The worldly gaze they gloried to repel:
Soon craved the homage that they once had spurned,
To sovereign sway their lonely leisure turned,
Invoked auxiliar potency from pain,
Employed fast, penance, vigil, scourge and chain,
Sustained the Church, partook her guilty toil,
And claimed an equal interest in the spoil.
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Above the spot where martyred dust was laid,
And grateful tears a sinless homage paid,
Inventive Priestcraft traced a bold design,
Sustained her grandeur on the rising shrine,
Enclosed a fancied image of the dead,
Around the fane a suppliant people led,
Taught Idol Prayer its impious voice to lift,
Required the praise, nor oft excused the gift;
Where Gratitude once loved, she now adored,
And gave the dead what living they abhorred.
And grateful tears a sinless homage paid,
Inventive Priestcraft traced a bold design,
Sustained her grandeur on the rising shrine,
Enclosed a fancied image of the dead,
Around the fane a suppliant people led,
Taught Idol Prayer its impious voice to lift,
Required the praise, nor oft excused the gift;
Where Gratitude once loved, she now adored,
And gave the dead what living they abhorred.
Faith lent full credence to each fraudful tale;
Deluded thousands thronged the relic sale;
Bold Priestcraft triumphed in the impious trade,
Enhanced the price that reckless Folly paid,
Caught in her waiting arms the golden shower,
And moved at will a master-spring of power.
Deluded thousands thronged the relic sale;
Bold Priestcraft triumphed in the impious trade,
Enhanced the price that reckless Folly paid,
Caught in her waiting arms the golden shower,
And moved at will a master-spring of power.
Each added gain the bigot march impelled,
Augmented sway the jealous rancour swelled,
Fanatic Hate assumed a darker hue,
Exile and fetters palled; She smote and slew!
'Twas thus that Priestcraft played her guilty game,
Her end, her arms, her triumph were the same,
Robed in the purple of a Roman lord
Or tried in conflict with a savage horde.
Sway bred corruption in her every part,
Truth mourned the gainful fraud, the relic mart;
Mourned Scripture veiled, Idolatry restored,
And Conscience taught submission by the sword.
Augmented sway the jealous rancour swelled,
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Exile and fetters palled; She smote and slew!
'Twas thus that Priestcraft played her guilty game,
Her end, her arms, her triumph were the same,
Robed in the purple of a Roman lord
Or tried in conflict with a savage horde.
Sway bred corruption in her every part,
Truth mourned the gainful fraud, the relic mart;
Mourned Scripture veiled, Idolatry restored,
And Conscience taught submission by the sword.
But rebel Faith had sinned too deep for grace;
No sorrow could redeem, no time efface;
Indignant Justice gazed with lowering eye,
The scourge was raised, a fierce inflicter nigh!
No sorrow could redeem, no time efface;
Indignant Justice gazed with lowering eye,
The scourge was raised, a fierce inflicter nigh!
Sublime Imposture wore a prophet's name,
O'er Arab wastes in guise of conquest came,
On idol impotence devoutly trod,
Bound warring tribes in homage to one God;
Awoke the hero in the robber horde,
And gave the Sacred Book, and girded on the sword!
Yes, War must make the Imposter known to man;
From tribe to tribe the kindling summons ran;
The Desert heard, and sent her children forth,
With steed and scimeter to win the earth!
Young, fiery Zeal was there to guide each blow,
To mock the ordered ranks, the steel-clad foe.
To smile on daring that declined no deed,
And urge their victor course to lightning speed;
No stay! no bound! they won the Sacred Soil,
Scarce paused to seize, and share the Syrian spoil,
From mystic Nile to headlong Indus rushed,
Scourged Roman pride, and Persian glory crushed,
Confounded Hun and Goth with equal ease,
Spurned the Atlantic wave, and scaled the Pyrénees!
O'er Arab wastes in guise of conquest came,
42
Bound warring tribes in homage to one God;
Awoke the hero in the robber horde,
And gave the Sacred Book, and girded on the sword!
Yes, War must make the Imposter known to man;
From tribe to tribe the kindling summons ran;
The Desert heard, and sent her children forth,
With steed and scimeter to win the earth!
Young, fiery Zeal was there to guide each blow,
To mock the ordered ranks, the steel-clad foe.
To smile on daring that declined no deed,
And urge their victor course to lightning speed;
No stay! no bound! they won the Sacred Soil,
Scarce paused to seize, and share the Syrian spoil,
From mystic Nile to headlong Indus rushed,
Scourged Roman pride, and Persian glory crushed,
Confounded Hun and Goth with equal ease,
Spurned the Atlantic wave, and scaled the Pyrénees!
False guide! mysterious minister of Heaven!
Thy conquering arm, thy lengthened rule were given
To hold o'er priestly Sin a constant rod,
And bring the Church through suffering back to God.
But now when time has marked the foul revolt,
And rebel Faith begun to mourn her fault,
A deadly sleep on prostrate Islam lies;
No more the war-cry speeds, the warrior dies!
No countless throngs the circling impulse own
To press their lips upon the kiss-worn stone,
Nor fondly court the travel and the toil,
To touch the shrine that robbers dared despoil!
And oh! when Faith her last vile bond shall burst,
By power unharmed, by grandeur unaccursed,
Rent from its sphere, the Moslem star shall pale;
The bold deceit, the baleful splendour fail;
The Cross reconquer what the Crescent won,
And peace repair the wrong that war has done;
The Gospel sun regain its native sky,
And re-assume meridian potency!
Thy conquering arm, thy lengthened rule were given
43
And bring the Church through suffering back to God.
But now when time has marked the foul revolt,
And rebel Faith begun to mourn her fault,
A deadly sleep on prostrate Islam lies;
No more the war-cry speeds, the warrior dies!
No countless throngs the circling impulse own
To press their lips upon the kiss-worn stone,
Nor fondly court the travel and the toil,
To touch the shrine that robbers dared despoil!
And oh! when Faith her last vile bond shall burst,
By power unharmed, by grandeur unaccursed,
Rent from its sphere, the Moslem star shall pale;
The bold deceit, the baleful splendour fail;
The Cross reconquer what the Crescent won,
And peace repair the wrong that war has done;
The Gospel sun regain its native sky,
And re-assume meridian potency!
44
The stricken Church, of half her empire reft,
Clung to the sway her Moslem victor left,
Called Rome to struggle and prevail anew,
And all the deeds she did of old out do.
There dwelt the living Light, the breathing Soul,
The centre spring that moved the mighty whole,
There in throned pomp the Sovereign Pontiff swayed,
With skilful hand the mystic engine played!
Embraced the world within his eagle glance,
Invoked each aid, improved each favouring chance,
Intent on power the awful sentence spoke,
That doomed a people to the tyrant's yoke,
Or smiled on Freedom with approving eye
And lent her cause auxiliar sanctity!
His vassal priests denied the nuptial tie,
Lived but to work his will and share his joy;
Triumphant union knit the daring band,
And reckless Faith obeyed each foul command,
Clung to the sway her Moslem victor left,
Called Rome to struggle and prevail anew,
And all the deeds she did of old out do.
There dwelt the living Light, the breathing Soul,
The centre spring that moved the mighty whole,
There in throned pomp the Sovereign Pontiff swayed,
With skilful hand the mystic engine played!
Embraced the world within his eagle glance,
Invoked each aid, improved each favouring chance,
Intent on power the awful sentence spoke,
That doomed a people to the tyrant's yoke,
Or smiled on Freedom with approving eye
And lent her cause auxiliar sanctity!
His vassal priests denied the nuptial tie,
Lived but to work his will and share his joy;
45
And reckless Faith obeyed each foul command,
And now the Church with matchless might endowed,
Dealt fiercely with the strong, abashed the proud,
Blasted their being, trampled o'er their graves,
Sceptres her play-things! potentates her slaves!
Securely bold, she sped the stern decree
That fixed the faith, that doomed the heresy,
That set on subject thrones a changing price
And grafted holiness on gainful vice.
Dealt fiercely with the strong, abashed the proud,
Blasted their being, trampled o'er their graves,
Sceptres her play-things! potentates her slaves!
Securely bold, she sped the stern decree
That fixed the faith, that doomed the heresy,
That set on subject thrones a changing price
And grafted holiness on gainful vice.
Behold the naked emperor doomed to wait,
In freezing anguish at the pontiff's gate!
No couch but such as mother Earth may spare,
No social solace save the menial's stare!
From outward shame, from starving want released,
In kneeling guise behold him sue the priest!
Endure the harsh rebuke, the haughty frown,
Resign his sovereignty, but keep his crown,
Win from the Church a serpent-like embrace,
And part insulted with her tardy grace!
In freezing anguish at the pontiff's gate!
No couch but such as mother Earth may spare,
No social solace save the menial's stare!
From outward shame, from starving want released,
In kneeling guise behold him sue the priest!
Endure the harsh rebuke, the haughty frown,
Resign his sovereignty, but keep his crown,
46
And part insulted with her tardy grace!
In walks of state, in palaces of pride,
She reigns the Omnipotent, the Glorified!
And yet she will not rest her pinions here,
Nor bound her empire to this lower sphere.
Oh no! in sterner guise she speaks to men;
Her dread dominion mocks at mortal ken;
With victor tread she cleaves the dark unknown,
And sways and triumphs on a viewless throne;
Her quenchless torch is lit 'mid funeral gloom;
Her iron sceptre rests upon the tomb;
Sepulchral Night withdraws its veil for her,
And Death attends, obsequious Minister,
Waits but her word to strike the destined prey,
His breath her life, his gain her victory!
Ask you the secret of her mystic sway?
Go read it graven on her sainted clay!
The pomp that blazes round her living head,
But speaks the glory of her mighty Dead.
Say, lacks she strength? the Dead who cannot die,
The men who gave their brief mortality
To toil and sin, that she might bear the rod,
And vex the nations in the name of God,
Still love and watch, and labour in the grave,
And bare their shrunken arms to strike and save!
She calls—her summons rends the hovering cloud,
Warms the dull ashes, stirs the crumbling shroud!
Earth yields her captives, Death foregoes his boast!
They start to life a grim, resistless host!
Their chainless spirits walk the trembling world,
March with the sign of war and woe unfurled,
Breathe in each frailer child of dust and death
Impatient zeal and blind, adoring faith,
Hurl their collected terrors on the foes
Who spurn the yoke the Church would fain impose,
With arms that flee the hand and mock the eye,
Spoil the vain show of earthly potency,
From Court and Camp reluctant homage wring,
Disarm the Warrior and uncrown the King!
She reigns the Omnipotent, the Glorified!
And yet she will not rest her pinions here,
Nor bound her empire to this lower sphere.
Oh no! in sterner guise she speaks to men;
Her dread dominion mocks at mortal ken;
With victor tread she cleaves the dark unknown,
And sways and triumphs on a viewless throne;
Her quenchless torch is lit 'mid funeral gloom;
Her iron sceptre rests upon the tomb;
Sepulchral Night withdraws its veil for her,
And Death attends, obsequious Minister,
Waits but her word to strike the destined prey,
His breath her life, his gain her victory!
Ask you the secret of her mystic sway?
Go read it graven on her sainted clay!
The pomp that blazes round her living head,
But speaks the glory of her mighty Dead.
47
The men who gave their brief mortality
To toil and sin, that she might bear the rod,
And vex the nations in the name of God,
Still love and watch, and labour in the grave,
And bare their shrunken arms to strike and save!
She calls—her summons rends the hovering cloud,
Warms the dull ashes, stirs the crumbling shroud!
Earth yields her captives, Death foregoes his boast!
They start to life a grim, resistless host!
Their chainless spirits walk the trembling world,
March with the sign of war and woe unfurled,
Breathe in each frailer child of dust and death
Impatient zeal and blind, adoring faith,
Hurl their collected terrors on the foes
Who spurn the yoke the Church would fain impose,
With arms that flee the hand and mock the eye,
Spoil the vain show of earthly potency,
From Court and Camp reluctant homage wring,
Disarm the Warrior and uncrown the King!
48
Is this Poetic Truth? Does Fancy fly
Presumptuous o'er the realms of History?
No! let her solemn voice pursue the strain,
Recal the murdered priest, the crimsoned fane,
The spot where oft he prayed, where last he stood,
The altar hallowed by his costly blood,
The form that rots, the fame that ripens there,
The immortal dust, the imperial sepulchre!
Behold! a crownless monarch bows his head,
And bends his knee before the mighty dead;
Oh! could the gazing multitudes forget
That trembling wretch was once Plantagenet!
The Lord of many realms! the Man of might!
Fortune's spoiled child! Love's foremost favourite!
The subtle Statesman! the heroic Chief!
How tamed by fear, how stupified by grief!
No struggling hope, no stern resolve is there,
Nor majesty in woe, nor grandeur in despair!
Fast by the tomb he waits the sable throng,
Charged to exact due vengeance for the wrong;
In stern impatience to fulfil their trust,
They give the word; he grovels in the dust!
A dreadful pause.—and lo! the lash descends!
No single stroke that lordly body rends;
The bloody scourge is passed from hand to hand!
The glorious vengeance circles round the band!
Strange chance! the Saxon strikes, the Norman bleeds,
The wrong is well avenged, the righteous penance speeds!
Presumptuous o'er the realms of History?
No! let her solemn voice pursue the strain,
Recal the murdered priest, the crimsoned fane,
The spot where oft he prayed, where last he stood,
The altar hallowed by his costly blood,
The form that rots, the fame that ripens there,
The immortal dust, the imperial sepulchre!
Behold! a crownless monarch bows his head,
And bends his knee before the mighty dead;
Oh! could the gazing multitudes forget
That trembling wretch was once Plantagenet!
The Lord of many realms! the Man of might!
Fortune's spoiled child! Love's foremost favourite!
The subtle Statesman! the heroic Chief!
How tamed by fear, how stupified by grief!
No struggling hope, no stern resolve is there,
Nor majesty in woe, nor grandeur in despair!
Fast by the tomb he waits the sable throng,
Charged to exact due vengeance for the wrong;
49
They give the word; he grovels in the dust!
A dreadful pause.—and lo! the lash descends!
No single stroke that lordly body rends;
The bloody scourge is passed from hand to hand!
The glorious vengeance circles round the band!
Strange chance! the Saxon strikes, the Norman bleeds,
The wrong is well avenged, the righteous penance speeds!
And see him now, the meet submission made,
Beg peace and pardon of the awful shade,
Adore the dust of him he loathed and feared,
And kiss the tomb his quenchless hate had reared,
Pass the lone night on solemn watch intent,
And bless the hands that dealt his chastisement!
Beg peace and pardon of the awful shade,
Adore the dust of him he loathed and feared,
And kiss the tomb his quenchless hate had reared,
Pass the lone night on solemn watch intent,
And bless the hands that dealt his chastisement!
Tremendous Shade! O say, did Heaven allow,
No prophet-fire within thy soul to glow?
No raptured trance thy lofty lot unfold?
The needy fugitive enshrined in gold!
The outcast welcomed to his glorious rest!
The traitor sanctified among the blest!
Thy name a fiery bolt, a vengeful rod!
Thy sepulchre the temple of a God,
Where Faith has kindled, trembling Guilt adored,
And fondly deemed its forfeit heaven restored!
Where Pain has wept, and sought celestial balm,
And kneeling Grief enjoyed a fancied calm!
Where royal gifts have veiled each dark offence,
Ensured the pardon, sealed the penitence,
And humbler Woe preferred a meek complaint
In fond reliance on the pitying saint.
The throned Oppressor worships at thy grave,
Reveres thee stern to whelm, and strong to save,
Falls o'er thy tomb a wretch whom worlds abhor,
And lifts his head, a king! a conqueror!
No prophet-fire within thy soul to glow?
No raptured trance thy lofty lot unfold?
The needy fugitive enshrined in gold!
50
The traitor sanctified among the blest!
Thy name a fiery bolt, a vengeful rod!
Thy sepulchre the temple of a God,
Where Faith has kindled, trembling Guilt adored,
And fondly deemed its forfeit heaven restored!
Where Pain has wept, and sought celestial balm,
And kneeling Grief enjoyed a fancied calm!
Where royal gifts have veiled each dark offence,
Ensured the pardon, sealed the penitence,
And humbler Woe preferred a meek complaint
In fond reliance on the pitying saint.
The throned Oppressor worships at thy grave,
Reveres thee stern to whelm, and strong to save,
Falls o'er thy tomb a wretch whom worlds abhor,
And lifts his head, a king! a conqueror!
51
Had Heaven been graciously remiss for thee,
Left unsecured the gate of Destiny,
Allowed thy entrance, nor disdained to show
The endless triumph through the transient woe,
That sight had charmed, the suffering been forgot,
And life contemned that barred thee such a lot;
Each dark assassin seemed to work thy weal;
Rest, vengeance, glory hung upon the steel;
The death-film gathered o'er thy raptured eye,
And resignation brightened into joy!
Left unsecured the gate of Destiny,
Allowed thy entrance, nor disdained to show
The endless triumph through the transient woe,
That sight had charmed, the suffering been forgot,
And life contemned that barred thee such a lot;
Each dark assassin seemed to work thy weal;
Rest, vengeance, glory hung upon the steel;
The death-film gathered o'er thy raptured eye,
And resignation brightened into joy!
And She, for whom her champion feared no foe,
For whom his life was linked to want and woe,
For whom his soul disdained the sceptred yoke,
Scorned the dark threat, and braved the mortal stroke,
Say, did the Church applaud in dull amaze,
Nor share the homage, nor partake the blaze?
No! she defied his foes, and wore his plume,
Wielded at will the terrors of his tomb,
Strong in his strength, confounded human force,
And strode to conquest o'er her Martyr's corpse!
For whom his life was linked to want and woe,
For whom his soul disdained the sceptred yoke,
Scorned the dark threat, and braved the mortal stroke,
Say, did the Church applaud in dull amaze,
Nor share the homage, nor partake the blaze?
No! she defied his foes, and wore his plume,
Wielded at will the terrors of his tomb,
Strong in his strength, confounded human force,
And strode to conquest o'er her Martyr's corpse!
52
Then came her height of sin, her palmy hour,
Her noon of pride, her surfeit-draught of power
Then fierce Ambition aimed at double rule;
'Twas not enough that kings should play the tool,
Divide their sovereignty, forget their pride,
And kneel and tremble round their sacred guide!
No! she must wield their sword and shame their state,
Chief among kings and Tyrant of the great!
Claimed as her own, their realms, and treasured store,
Exacted tribute for the crowns they wore;
Or, sterner proof of mastery to impart,
Assumed a right to wrong each kingly heart,
Raised her rude hand to burst Earth's holiest tie,
Waged war with Love, and won the victory!
Her noon of pride, her surfeit-draught of power
Then fierce Ambition aimed at double rule;
'Twas not enough that kings should play the tool,
Divide their sovereignty, forget their pride,
And kneel and tremble round their sacred guide!
No! she must wield their sword and shame their state,
Chief among kings and Tyrant of the great!
Claimed as her own, their realms, and treasured store,
Exacted tribute for the crowns they wore;
Or, sterner proof of mastery to impart,
Assumed a right to wrong each kingly heart,
Raised her rude hand to burst Earth's holiest tie,
Waged war with Love, and won the victory!
No dizzy height of power she dared not reach,
No foul abuse of faith she feared to preach;
To track each step and scrutinize each deed,
Mark woe on woe and crime on crime succeed,
Were task too long to suit the impatient Muse,
The ear would tire, and jealous Truth excuse.
To riestly rule the State-bred curse fast clung;
High o'er her march a blood-red banner hung;
Did Reason stir, or purer Faith oppose,
The sword was drawn, the fiery pile uprose;
If Man careered in Truth's forbidden field,
And read the Word that selfish fear concealed,
Pale Priestcraft rose to arms, nor smote a few;
The vengeance spread, the sacred carnage grew!
Blind Ignorance prolonged the monster-reign,
And gave to sway-nursed Vice a deeper stain.
No foul abuse of faith she feared to preach;
To track each step and scrutinize each deed,
Mark woe on woe and crime on crime succeed,
53
The ear would tire, and jealous Truth excuse.
To riestly rule the State-bred curse fast clung;
High o'er her march a blood-red banner hung;
Did Reason stir, or purer Faith oppose,
The sword was drawn, the fiery pile uprose;
If Man careered in Truth's forbidden field,
And read the Word that selfish fear concealed,
Pale Priestcraft rose to arms, nor smote a few;
The vengeance spread, the sacred carnage grew!
Blind Ignorance prolonged the monster-reign,
And gave to sway-nursed Vice a deeper stain.
All Europe wakened at the bigot cry,
Assumed the cross in hate of heresy,
And poured from every realm a warrior-swarm,
To blast the land that Light presumed to warm.
Oh! mark the thrilling horror of that tone,
“Slay, slay them all! the Lord shall know his own.”
The willing swords that surely sped the doom,
The fiery waste, the universal tomb!
Nor here expend the tear, nor waste the curse;
Reserve indignant grief for deeds still worse!
Perverted Zeal invoked a new ally,
And dared the crowning guilt, the grand enormity!
The dread Tribunal rose, and Truth was mute—
Adulterous Church and State, behold your foulest fruit!
True; kindred Night and bigot Wrath stood forth
To speed the throes and hail the monster-birth;
But oh! had Faith in single strength remained,
Nor earthly might enforced what priests ordained,
No Soul-Inquisitors had toiled so well
In love of Heaven to do the work of Hell,
Wrought their fell will where none could bar the doom,
Bestowed the lingering death, or living tomb,
Fed on the captive tear, the rack-wrung cry,
And drunk from woe infernal ecstasy!
Assumed the cross in hate of heresy,
And poured from every realm a warrior-swarm,
To blast the land that Light presumed to warm.
Oh! mark the thrilling horror of that tone,
“Slay, slay them all! the Lord shall know his own.”
54
The fiery waste, the universal tomb!
Nor here expend the tear, nor waste the curse;
Reserve indignant grief for deeds still worse!
Perverted Zeal invoked a new ally,
And dared the crowning guilt, the grand enormity!
The dread Tribunal rose, and Truth was mute—
Adulterous Church and State, behold your foulest fruit!
True; kindred Night and bigot Wrath stood forth
To speed the throes and hail the monster-birth;
But oh! had Faith in single strength remained,
Nor earthly might enforced what priests ordained,
No Soul-Inquisitors had toiled so well
In love of Heaven to do the work of Hell,
Wrought their fell will where none could bar the doom,
Bestowed the lingering death, or living tomb,
55
And drunk from woe infernal ecstasy!
The engine worked; affrighted Truth seemed crushed,
Her light obscured, her warning trumpet hushed,
But still the light in scattered rays would break;
In trembling tones the voice of Mercy speak;
Men hailed that voice and gathered round that light,
Though priests stood near with state-forged swords to smite!
Truth stole a march on bigot Power and Pride,
And champions grew and martyrs multiplied!
Her light obscured, her warning trumpet hushed,
But still the light in scattered rays would break;
In trembling tones the voice of Mercy speak;
Men hailed that voice and gathered round that light,
Though priests stood near with state-forged swords to smite!
Truth stole a march on bigot Power and Pride,
And champions grew and martyrs multiplied!
Chief of the band and foremost of the search,
A son of England braved the angry church,
With mitred enmity our Wickliffe strove,
And rent from truth the veil that Priestcraft wove;
Power threw her shield before his reverend head,
And Vengeance stayed to light upon the dead!
But ah! no kindred grace his followers spared;
Priests aimed the sword that vassal princes bared;
The Serf and Noble equally withstood;
One cause conjoined their hearts, one stake allied their blood!
A son of England braved the angry church,
With mitred enmity our Wickliffe strove,
And rent from truth the veil that Priestcraft wove;
Power threw her shield before his reverend head,
And Vengeance stayed to light upon the dead!
But ah! no kindred grace his followers spared;
Priests aimed the sword that vassal princes bared;
56
One cause conjoined their hearts, one stake allied their blood!
The faith they loved, the martyred pangs they bore,
In blended glory graced a foreign shore;
Two Men of God stood forth, nor spoke in vain;
Bohemia gathered round the mighty Twain!
Assembled prelates trembled in their state,
In fear of heresy suppressed their hate,
Lured with feigned love the noble pair to die,
And sanctified imperial perjury;
Nor deemed their work completed in the deed!
The pastors slain, they doomed the flock to bleed.
That doom was soon reversed, their champions bled;
Hosts fell before the band that Zisca led,
Chosen of freedom, glorified of war!
The sightless guide, the lifeless conqueror!
Yet priestly fraud regained what force had lost;
Unhallowed Discord vexed the victor host;
Faith madly drew a suicidal sword,
And cursed the yoke her bootless strife restored.
In blended glory graced a foreign shore;
Two Men of God stood forth, nor spoke in vain;
Bohemia gathered round the mighty Twain!
Assembled prelates trembled in their state,
In fear of heresy suppressed their hate,
Lured with feigned love the noble pair to die,
And sanctified imperial perjury;
Nor deemed their work completed in the deed!
The pastors slain, they doomed the flock to bleed.
That doom was soon reversed, their champions bled;
Hosts fell before the band that Zisca led,
Chosen of freedom, glorified of war!
The sightless guide, the lifeless conqueror!
Yet priestly fraud regained what force had lost;
Unhallowed Discord vexed the victor host;
57
And cursed the yoke her bootless strife restored.
But Truth the warrior's arm could well forego,
In holier panoply she met the foe;
Mind lent each subtle aid, each deep resource,
And shamed the brutal impotence of force.
The olden Wisdom that unheeded slept,
While the last Cæsars to their ruin crept,
Woke as the Moslem scaled the imperial wall,
And winged its flight where waiting votaries call,
Gave Thought a second life, a noble aim,
And sped the truths that Time would soon proclaim.
In holier panoply she met the foe;
Mind lent each subtle aid, each deep resource,
And shamed the brutal impotence of force.
The olden Wisdom that unheeded slept,
While the last Cæsars to their ruin crept,
Woke as the Moslem scaled the imperial wall,
And winged its flight where waiting votaries call,
Gave Thought a second life, a noble aim,
And sped the truths that Time would soon proclaim.
While Italy her youthful zeal expressed
In bursting homage to her glorious guest,
Teutonic skill the master-marvel wrought,
Supremely magnified Creative Thought,
To draw its chariot winged coursers lent,
And made its mighty arm omnipotent!
As the red beacon shot from Ida's height,
Blazed as it flew and woke contagious light,
Sprang with mysterious bound from steep to steep,
Swept in far-streaming splendour o'er the deep,
Announced the fall of Troy to raptured Greece,
Proclaimed the triumph and assured the peace:
So travelled Thought; so blazed its winged car,
In strength a sun, in speed a shooting star,
Shone o'er the city, vivified the field,
O'er mountain-bound, o'er ocean-barrier wheeled,
From pole to pole in lightning-guise was whirled,
Woke slumbering soul, illumed a darkened world!
In bursting homage to her glorious guest,
Teutonic skill the master-marvel wrought,
Supremely magnified Creative Thought,
58
And made its mighty arm omnipotent!
As the red beacon shot from Ida's height,
Blazed as it flew and woke contagious light,
Sprang with mysterious bound from steep to steep,
Swept in far-streaming splendour o'er the deep,
Announced the fall of Troy to raptured Greece,
Proclaimed the triumph and assured the peace:
So travelled Thought; so blazed its winged car,
In strength a sun, in speed a shooting star,
Shone o'er the city, vivified the field,
O'er mountain-bound, o'er ocean-barrier wheeled,
From pole to pole in lightning-guise was whirled,
Woke slumbering soul, illumed a darkened world!
Yes! Truth might speak the words that could not die,
Nor Genius doubt its immortality,
Both bravely soar on Heaven-aspiring wing,
And mock the pointless shaft of priest and king!
Nor Genius doubt its immortality,
Both bravely soar on Heaven-aspiring wing,
And mock the pointless shaft of priest and king!
The inhabitants of Thessalonica having slain some imperial officers in a tumult, the Emperor Theodosius without inquiring into the circumstances, gave orders for a general massacre. On the execution of these orders Ambrose accusing the Emperor, excluded him from the Church and refused him a share in the communion—(ακοινωνητον εποιησε) and he (the Emperor) publicly confessed his sin in the Church.—Sozomen. Eccl History, lib. 7, cap. 25.
Gibbon (cap. 32) has fairly told the chequered story of St. Chrysostom his sudden elevation to the bishopric of Constantinople, his strong denunciation of vice, his opposition to the profligate court of the Emperor Arcadius, his disputes with the licentious Empress Eudoxia, his deposition and forcible removal from Constantinople, the tumultuous rising of the people, and the speedy and triumphant return of their pastor, his final banishment his courage and endurance in exile, the cruel treatment that accelerated his death, (A. D. 407,) and the public homage paid to his memory by Theodosius Il., who strove to expiate the evil deeds of his parents, Arcadius and Eudoxia, by heading the adoring procession, which conducted the remains of the persecuted saint to a magnificent sepulchre in Constantinople.
The Emperor, or rather usurper Maximus, was (in the words of Gibbon, cap. 27.) the first among the Christian princes who shed the blood of his Christian subjects on account of their religious opinions! Priscilian, bishop of Avila, in Spain, who held Gnostic sentiments, was with six of his followers executed at Treves, by the sentence of the Prœtorian prœfect, (A. D. 385.)
Every pilgrim to the Kaaba or Temple at Mecca is bound to kiss the celebrated black stone, which is said to have dropped from heaven at the Creation.
Mecca was plundered by the Wahabees, A.D. 1802, Medina with Mohammed's tomb shared the same fate in the following year.
“From the fifth to the thirteenth century there was not a single conquest that was not profitable to the court of Rome, as well as to those who had effected it by the lance and the sword.” Thierry's History of the Norman Conquest. (Translation.) For the justice of this remark, we will only appeal to the conquests of the Normans in the two Sicilies, England and Ireland.
Witness the alliance of Pope Alexander III. with the league of Lombard Cities, in their struggle with Frederick Barbarossa, and the countenance afforded by Innocent III. to the Barons of England, in their contest with John.
At this time Henry was at war with his son, his barons, and the king of France, abhorred by his subjects, forsaken by his friends. At the news of his humiliation all England rose in his favour, and gave him a complete victory over his enemies. It was reported that on the day of penance, William king of Scotland was taken prisoner by his lieutenant in Northumberland.
“The marriages of kings were sanctified or reprobated, their issue legitimated or bastardized, and the succession to their thrones established or rendered precarious, according to the humour or interest of the reigning pontiff.”—Black's Com., Book 3, c. 7.
The terrible events of the crusades against the Albigenses, are finely related by Sismondi, Hist. des Fran. tom. 6, part 3, cap. 23, et seq.
“Cædite! nam novit Dominus, qui sunt ejus;” the answer returned by Arnold Amalric, legate of the Pope, to the Crosses, who on the capture of Beziers, A.D. 1209, asked him how they could distinguish the true believers from the heretics. His mandate was literally fulfilled, not a soul was left alive in Beziers, seven thousand corpses lay in one church. The whole number of the slain is computed by some at fifteen thousand, by some at sixty thousand. The town was then burned. Sismondi. Hist. des Fran. tom. 6, part 3, cap. 24.
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