Well now, there’s one great form of Christian faith
I happened to be born in—­which to teach
Was given me as I grew up, on all hands,
As best and readiest means of living by;
The same on examination being proved
The most pronounced moreover, fixed, precise
And absolute form of faith in the whole world—­
Accordingly, most potent of all forms
For working on the world.  Observe, my friend! 
Such as you know me, I am free to say, 310
In these hard latter days which hamper one,
Myself—­by no immoderate exercise
Of intellect and learning, but the tact
To let external forces work for me,
—­Bid the street’s stones be bread and they are bread;
Bid Peter’s creed, or rather, Hildebrand’s,
Exalt me o’er my fellows in the world
And make my life an ease and joy and pride;
It does so—­which for me ’s a great point gained,
Who have a soul and body that exact 320
A comfortable care in many ways. 
There’s power in me and will to dominate
Which I must exercise, they hurt me else: 
In many ways I need mankind’s respect,
Obedience, and the love that’s born of fear: 
While at the same time, there’s a taste I have,
A toy of soul, a titillating thing,
Refuses to digest these dainties crude. 
The naked life is gross till clothed upon: 
I must take what men offer, with a grace 330
As though I would not, could I help it, take
An uniform I wear though over-rich—­
Something imposed on me, no choice of mine;
No fancy-dress worn for pure fancy’s sake
And despicable therefore! now folk kneel
And kiss my hand—­of course the Church’s hand. 
Thus I am made, thus life is best for me,
And thus that it should be I have procured;
And thus it could not be another way,
I venture to imagine.

You’ll reply, 340
So far my choice, no doubt, is a success;
But were I made of better elements,
With nobler instincts, purer tastes, like you,
I hardly would account the thing success
Though it did all for me I say.

But, friend,
We speak of what is; not of what might be,
And how ’twere better if ’twere otherwise. 
I am the man you see here plain enough: 
Grant I’m a beast, why, beasts must lead beasts’ lives! 
Suppose I own at once to tail and claws; 350
The tailless man exceeds me:  but being tailed
I’ll lash out lion fashion, and leave apes
To dock their stump and dress their haunches up. 
My business is not to remake myself,
But make the absolute best of what God made. 
Or—­our first simile—­though you prove me doomed
To a viler berth still, to the steerage-hole,
The sheep-pen or the pig-stye, I should strive
To make what use of each were possible;
And as this cabin gets upholstery, 360
That hutch should rustle with sufficient straw.