“Such, as do build their faith upon The holy text of pike and gun; Decide all controversies By infallible artillery; And prove their doctrines orthodox By apostolic blows and knocks; Call fire and sword and desolation A godly, thorough reformation, Which always must be going on And still be doing--never done; As if Religion were intended For nothing else but to be mended. A sect whose chief devotion lies In odd, perverse antipathies, In falling out with that or this, And finding somewhat still amiss. That with more care keep holyday, The wrong--than others the right way; Compound for sins they are inclined to By damning those they have no mind to. The self same thing they will abhor One way, and long another--for: Quarrel with mince-pies and disparage Their best and dearest friend plum-porridge; Fat pig and goose itself oppose, And blaspheme custard thro’ the nose.” It is not worth while to tell the story of the poem--which, indeed, its author did not live to complete. Its fable was undoubtedly suggested by the far larger and worthier work of Cervantes; Hudibras and Ralpho standing in the place of the doughty Knight of La Mancha, and Sancho Panza; but there is a world between the two. _Hudibras_ had also the like honor of suggesting its scheme and measure and jingle to an early American poem--that of _McFingal_, by John Trumbull--in which our compatriot with less of wit and ribaldry, but equal smoothness, and rhythmic zest, did so catch the humor of the Butler work in many of his couplets that even now they pass muster as veritable parts of _Hudibras_.[78]