_Charade_ (Vol. i., p. 10.).--The charade cited by QUÆSTOR is on my "Notes"
as the "Bishop of Salisbury's," and the following answer is said to be by a
clergyman:--
"Firm on the Rock of Christ, though lowly sprung,
The Church invokes the Spirit's fiery Tongue;
Those gracious breathings rouse but to controul
The Storm and Struggle in the Sinner's Soul.
Happy! ere long his carnal conflicts cease,
And the Storm sinks in faith and gentle peace--
Kings own its potent sway, and humbly bows
The gilded diadem upon their brows--
Its saving voice with Mercy speeds to all,
But ah! how few who quicken at the call--
Gentiles the favour'd 'little Flock' detest,
And Abraham's children spit upon their rest.
Once only since Creation's work, has night
Curtain'd with dark'ning Clouds its saving light,
What time the Ark majestically rode,
Unscath'd upon the desolating flood--
The Silver weigh'd for it, in all its strength
For scarce three pounds were counted, while its length
Traced in the Prophet's view with measur'd reed,
Squared just a mile, as Rabbins are agreed--
And now I feel entitled well to smile,
Since Christ's Church bears the Palm in all our Isle."
I waited some time to see if any solution would be given of the charade;
and I now send you the one in my possession, in default of a better.