Of things above the world and under:
They search'd the hoary deep; they knew
The secret of the thunder;

"The pure white arrow of the light
They split into its colours seven;
They weighed the sun; they dwelt, like night,
Among the stars of heaven;

"They 've found out life and death,--the first
Is known but to the upper classes;
The second, pooh! 't is at the worst
A dissolution into gases.

"And vice and virtue are akin,
As black and white from Adam issue,--
One flesh, one blood, though sheeted in
A different coloured tissue.

"Their science groped from star to star;--
But then herself found nothing greater.
What wonder?--in a Leyden jar
They bottled the Creator.

"Fires fluttered on their lightning-rod;
They cleared the human mind from error;
They emptied heaven of its God,
And Tophet of its terror.

"Better the savage in his dance
Than these acute and syllogistic!
Better a reverent ignorance
Than knowledge atheistic!

"Have they dispelled one cloud that lowers
So darkly on the human creature?
They with their irreligious powers
Have subjugated nature.

"But, as a satyr wins the charms
Of maiden in a forest hearted,
He finds, when clasped within his arms,
The outraged soul departed."

When I had done reading these verses,
he clergyman glanced slyly along to see the effect of his shot. The
doctor drew two or three hurried whiffs, gave a huge grunt of scorn,
then, turning sharply, asked, "What is 'a reverent ignorance'? What is
'a knowledge atheistic'?" The clergyman, skewered by the sudden
question, wriggled a little, and then began to explain,--with no great
heart, however, for he had had his little joke out, and did not care to
carry it further. The doctor listened for a little, and then, laying
down his pipe, said, with some heat, "It won't do. 'Reverent
ignorance' and such trash is a mere jingle of words; _that_ you know as
well as I. You stumbled on these verses, and brought them up here to
throw them at me. They don't harm me in the least, I can assure you.
There is no use," continued the doctor, mollifying at the sight of his
friend's countenance, and seeing how the land lay,--"there is no use
speaking to our incurious, solitary friend here, who could bask
comfortably in sunshine for a century, without once inquiring whence
came the light and heat. But let me tell you," liftin