Gazette Of The United States And Daily Evening Advertiser

One good Samaritan has more true grace
Than all the hypocrites of Adam's race.

Absalom Aimwell, Esq.

Hadst thou, my friend, but common sense to scan
The age of reason and the rights of man:
Hadst thou Religion! thou would'st not deny
That right to others thou dost prize so high
A right to think, on matters in debate,
As Reason doth, or Revelation may, dictate.
Art thou a Christian, Pagan, Greek, or Jew,
Is thy religion that alone that's true?
Who knows what ought, or ought not, to be done!
If God knows best, then man should hold his tongue.
Of various hue, behold the beast and bird;
Of various phiz, see man, creation's lord;
In various dress the blooming fields appear;
The seasons vary through the circling year;
Nature delights to charm a thousand ways,
And Nature's God delights in various praise.
Sayest thou "'tis wrong" what God ordains to be?
Order Him then to alter his decree!
Say rather Heaven is pleased with all these forms,
And cease to quarrel with thy fellow worms.
God made the waters free for all to drink,
God made the mind of man as free to think.
Hast thou religion! shew it by good works,
And not by cursing all the Jews and Turks.
Art thou more favoured than the Indian race?
Hast thou more virtue, honesty, and grace?
'Tis well—thank Heaven which thus has favoured thee;
Then tell thy slave "taste thou sweet Liberty."
Where persecution lifts her hated rod,
Religion takes not up her blest abode.
She's not in forms, that reason disapproves;
Nor in the frozen heart that never loves.
In mirth she's not, for mirth too soon will cloy,
And gloomy sadness yields no heavenly joy.
Where art thou found—ay, in what lonely cell,
Or in what sumptuous palace dost thou dwell?
Art thou in churches most affected plain,
Or pompous temples built to please the vain?
Art thou with tyrants eager to destroy?
Can proud ambition give thy votaries joy?
Art thou reserved to grace a chosen band,
Chosen of God to persecute the land!
Or rather, dost thou not thy influence shed
Wide as the sun's refulgent beams are spread.
Round the whole world, in various forms we see,
Men of all nations rise to cherish thee.
Would'st thou, vain christian, true religion know,
Thou must be taught to feel another's woe.
"To help the stranger in his lone distress,
"Aid the widow and the fatherless
One good Samaritan has more true grace
Than all the hypocrites of Adam's race.
The prayers of him who doth his neighbour wrong,
Are more unrighteous than the harlot's song.
Sweet charity within thy heart must reign,
Or thy religion is but poor and vain.
Who then can say where pure religion dwells!
Is it in temples, palaces, or cells?
I tell thee, friend, thou may'st the Goddess scan,
Within the bosom of an HONEST MAN.