And much the good, 'tis urg'd, that heperform'd
By harsh correction of corrupted manners,
Which ne'er had yielded to a gentle rod!
Yet why this persecution for opinions--
For matters of mere faith? The moral rule
Admits, perchance, no difference of thought,
Of argument, or of authority:-

Not so the nice perplexing points of faith!—
Virtue and vice are still the same. But thou,

O gloomy, fretful, gall-o'erloaded heart,

Not so didst judge, or feel! Thou hadst no mercy
For
any course the subtle spirits took

Of the mysterious brain, except for that
To which thy mental travels led thyself:
The whip, the prison, e'en the torture, were

Too little for the punishment of him

Who differ'd from thee! Surely it is strange,

Beyond the comprehension of a mind
Candid and consciencious, that the heart
Nurs'd virtue in it which could thus decide!
But empire o'er the intellect of man,
Wide-spread, hast thou, O Calvin, since enjoy'd!
There was a tribe puissant, of thy doctrines
Sprung, that all Europe's politics have since
Infected, shaking civil institutions,

And making monarchs tremble on their thrones;
Vexing old England in a glorious reign
Most, and a firm heroic, able Princess,

Trying, entangling, damping, and o'erclouding.

Incessant were the complots of the cold

And subtle poison that they spread, and deep

And copious were the seeds of future war
Internal, and dissension, spreading hate
Thro social ties. The name of Puritan

To all is known; yet only to a few

The purposes, and means, and tricks, and weapons,
And guile, and concert in each seeming act
Of pure simplicity! O daring Knox,
O Whittingham and Coverdale, who, here
Finding asylum from the sanguine sceptre
Of bigot Mary, were this master's pupils,
Drinking the essences of mind and heart
From Calvin as your God, and hore in triumph
Those fruits to Albion's and to Scotia's shores.

Then through the Court that Tudor's Princess rul'd,
Faction among the nobles spread, and Discord
Threw out her snakes, that hiss'd and scatter'd venom!
Now through the Church th'insinuating drug
Bred a false zeal, and war polemic wak'd,
That wheresoe'er its head was bruis'd, but rose
Twofold, in places new!-Then government
Became a dangerous and a weary thing;

And Burleigh's brain and heart grew sick, and bent
Beneath the feebleness of age, and sunk
In sorrow to the grave; and Egerton
The Seals of Equity and Conscience held,
In vigorous manhood, by the aid of talents
Strong, clear, and active, but with difficulty.

And now the march of years, and sorrow's draught, Heavily on the bosom hanging, brought

THOMAS EGERTON

Baron of Mismere, Viswant Brackley Lord High Chanceller of England. A 1617. Ancestor of Jemima Egerton, mother of six Egerton Bydges Bar!