Thanksgiving is to him a sacrifice.
But as for sinners, they shall be destroyed
From off the earth--their places shall be void.
Let all his works praise him with one accord!
Oh praise the Lord, my soul! Praise ye the Lord!

His Hundred and Forty-ninth Psalm is likewise good; but I have given
enough of Lord Bacon's verse, and proceed to call up one who was a poet
indeed, although little known as such, being a Roman Catholic, a Jesuit
even, and therefore, in Elizabeth's reign, a traitor, and subject to the
penalties according. Robert Southwell, "thirteen times most cruelly
tortured," could "not be induced to confess anything, not even the colour
of the horse whereon on a certain day he rode, lest from such indication
his adversaries might conjecture in what house, or in company of what
Catholics, he that day was." I quote these words of Lord Burleigh, lest
any of my readers, discovering weakness in his verse, should attribute
weakness to the man himself.

It was no doubt on political grounds that these tortures, and the death
that followed them, were inflicted. But it was for the truth _as he saw
it_, that is, for the sake of duty, that Southwell thus endured. We must
not impute all the evils of a system to every individual who holds by it.
It may be found that a man has, for the sole sake of self-abnegation,
yielded homage, where, if his object had been personal aggrandizement, he
might have wielded authority. Southwell, if that which comes from within
a man may be taken as the test of his character, was a devout and humble
Christian. In the choir of our singers we only ask: "Dost thou lift up
thine heart?" Southwell's song answers for him: "I lift it up unto the
Lord."