—
First of the Church, from whose enslaving power
He was deliver’d, and he bless’d the hour;
“Bishops and deans, and prebendaries all,”
He said, “were cattle fatt’ning in the stall;
Slothful and pursy, insolent and mean,
Were every bishop, prebendary, dean,
And wealthy rector:  curates, poorly paid,
Were only dull;—­he would not them upbraid.” 
   From priests he turn’d to canons, creeds, and prayers,
Rubrics and rules, and all our Church affairs;
Churches themselves, desk, pulpit, altar, all
The Justice reverenced—­and pronounced their fall. 
   Then from religion Hammond turn’d his view
To give our Rulers the correction due;
Not one wise action had these triflers plann’d;
There was, it seem’d, no wisdom in the land,
Save in this patriot tribe, who meet at times
To show the statesman’s errors and his crimes. 
   Now here was Justice Bolt compell’d to sit,
To hear the deist’s scorn, the rebel’s wit;
The fact mis-stated, the envenom’d lie,
And, staring spell-bound, made not one reply. 
   Then were our Laws abused—­and with the laws,
All who prepare, defend, or judge a cause: 
“We have no lawyer whom a man can trust,”
Proceeded Hammond—­“if the laws were just;
But they are evil; ’tis the savage state
Is only good, and ours sophisticate! 
See! the free creatures in their woods and plains,
Where without laws each happy monarch reigns,
King of himself—­while we a number dread,
By slaves commanded and by dunces led: 
Oh, let the name with either state agree —
Savage our own we’ll name, and civil theirs shall be.” 
   The silent Justice still astonish’d sat,
And wonder’d much whom he was gazing at;
Twice he essay’d to speak—­but in a cough,
The faint, indignant, dying speech went off: 
“But who is this?” thought he—­“a demon vile,
With wicked meaning and a vulgar style: 
Hammond they call him:  they can give the name
Of man to devils.—­Why am I so tame? 
Why crush I not the viper?”—­Fear replied,
Watch him awhile, and let his strength be tried: 
He will be foil’d, if man; but if his aid
Be from beneath, ’tis well to be afraid.” 
   “We are call’d free!” said Hammond—­“doleful times,
When rulers add their insult to their crimes;
For should our scorn expose each powerful vice,
It would be libel, and we pay the price.” 
   Thus with licentious words the man went on,
Proving that liberty of speech was gone;
That all were slaves—­nor had we better chance
For better times, than as allies to France. 
   Loud groan’d the Stranger—­Why, he must relate,
And own’d, “In sorrow for his country’s fate;”
“Nay, she were safe,” the ready man replied,
“Might patriots rule her, and could reasoners guide;
When all to vote, to speak, to teach, are free,
Whate’er their creeds or their opinions be;
When books of statutes are consumed in flames,