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 T UPPER'S 
 
 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY, 
 
 COMPLETE. 
 

 
 ^ -^ 
 
 [THE ONLY PERFECT EDITION.] 
 
 Proverbial Philosophy: 
 
 IN FOUR SERIES, 
 
 NOW FIRST COMPLETE. 
 Encluliing ihc Jfifticth €iittiott oi the ttocr Jfirst <Smc0. 
 
 BY 
 
 MARTIN F. TUPPER, D.C.L., F.R.S. 
 
 ' Jamque opus exegi." 
 
 WARD, LOCK AND CO., 
 
 LONDON : WARWICK HOUSE, SALISBURY SQUARE, E.G. 
 NEW YORK: lo BOND STREET. 
 
 V ^
 
 
 ^
 
 -' / / 
 
 
 NOTICE 
 
 The reader who may wish to see how this book had begin- 
 ning, continuation, and as now conchision, is referred to the 
 second Essay in the last series, — " Of this book's story." 
 Concerning its merits or demerits, perhaps these have been 
 sufficiently discussed both by friends and by foes ; the 
 author having now for some five and thirty years run the 
 gauntlet of praise and censure with (he trusts) appropriate 
 equanimity. The book then may by this time be allowed 
 to speak for itself. As for the author, he would willingly 
 have been left unnoticed by way both of portraiture and of 
 ^j^nemoir, but as the publisher desires the twain, because the 
 public is supposed to require them, there is nothing for it 
 but humble acquiescence : so, a recent likeness is affixed 
 from a photograph ; while the following sketch (originally 
 published in the volume, " Representative Men ") probably 
 is enough by way of biography. — T. 
 
 ■4^ 
 
 62684.3
 
 w 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH, 
 
 BY THE EDITOR OF "REPRESENTATIVE MEN." 
 
 ^ 
 
 "Mr. Martin Farquhar Tupper, widely known as the 
 author of ' Proverbial Philosophy,' was born July 17, 1810, 
 at No. 20 Devonshire Place, in the parish of Marylebone. 
 He is the eldest son of a medical man, highly esteemed in 
 his day, the late Martin Tupper, Esq., F.R.S. ; to whom a 
 baronetcy was twice offered, — in the first instance by the 
 Earl of Liverpool, in the second, imder the administration 
 of the Duke of Wellington, This honour was proffered to 
 Mr. Tupper, not alone as a mark of distinction to himself, 
 but also to his elder brother Peter, who had, during the 
 Peninsular War, evinced great diplomatic ability, and to 
 whom the title had been first presented, but by whom it 
 had been declined, on account of his having no son. 
 
 " The family of Tupper (spelt Topper in Germany, and 
 Toupard in France and the Low Countries) is of ancient 
 and honourable standing, and was originally German. 
 During the Persecution of the Lutheran Protestants by the 
 Emperor Charles V., about the year 1548, the Toppers 
 were exiled from Hesse Cassel ; and Heinrich Topper, the 
 immediate ancestor of the ' Proverbial Philosopher,' settled.
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. ix 
 
 ill 1 55 1, in Guernsey, where he purchased an estate, and 
 where his descendants still rank as among the ' first fami- 
 lies ' of the island. Rodolph Topper, of German celebrity 
 as an author, is of the same staunch stock. 
 
 " Those learned in heraldry tell us that the ancient armo- 
 rial bearings of this family include the 'Three F^scallops 
 Gules,' dating from the Crusades. 
 
 " During the reign of William and Mary an ancestor of 
 Martin Farquhar Tupper received from the sovereign a 
 gold medal and chain, with the privilege descending to his 
 heirs of wearing them before the king, and of bearing them 
 on a canton in his coat of arms. John Tupper received this 
 mark of distinction in recognition of an act ^i important 
 service, rendered to the Crown at the risk of diinger to life 
 and limb. Recognizing the helpless condition of the 
 French fleet, John Tupper conveyed intelligence of it to 
 Admiral Russell, which led to the action and victory of La 
 Hogue. This fact is slightly referred to by Macaulay in 
 his ' History of England ; ' but no mention is made of John 
 Tupper, on his way to the Bi-itish admiral, passing in an 
 open boat through the midst of the French fleet, as it lay 
 enveloped in dense fog : he is alluded to only as ' a gentle- 
 man of Guernsey.' 
 
 "A branch of the Tupper family sailed tvith the ' Pilgrim 
 Fathers' to the United States, where many of its de- 
 scendants are still to be found. A Major John Tupper, an 
 ancestor of the subject of this memoir, commanded the 
 Marines at Bunker's Hill, after the death of Pitcairn, and 
 gained for the corps their crown and laurel, as recorded at 
 the Horse Guards. It is related that 'by a strange coinci- 
 dence there was in Washington's army another Major 
 Tupper (originally of the same expatriated stock), and it is 
 known to the family that when the cousins met in opposite 
 ranks, some courtesies generously proffered by the "rebel" 
 were indignantly refused by the royalist.' 

 
 'V- 
 
 -^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 X BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 
 
 " The future popular author received his early education at 
 the Charterhouse, during the period when the Rev. Dr. 
 Russell filled the important post of Head-Master. In due 
 course of time he was transferred to Christ Church, Oxford, 
 where he took his degree of B.A. in 1S32, of M.A. in 1835, 
 and of U.C.L. in 1847. At Christ Church, as a member of 
 the Aristotle class, he was a fellow-student of many distin- 
 guished men,— as the late Duke of Newcastle, the late 
 Marquis of Dalhousie, the late Earl of Elgin, the Right 
 Hon. W. E. Gladstone, and Professors Jelf, Hill, Doyle, 
 and Vaughan. 
 
 " Having taken his degree of M.A., as we have already 
 seen, Martin Tupper became a student at Lincoln's Inn, 
 and was called to the Bar in the Michaelmas Term, 1835. 
 He has, however, never practised as a barrister. About the 
 same period commenced Mr. Tupper's literary career. He 
 appears to have contributed to the periodicals of the day, 
 but his first important essay in literature was a small 
 volume entitled ' Sacra Poesis.' 
 
 "In 1837 appeared the first series of ' Proverbial Philo- 
 sophy,' composed in a lawyer's chambers in Old Square, 
 Lincoln's Inn, during part of the year previous. This work, 
 which has spread its author's name far and wide, met at 
 first with but moderate success in England, while in 
 America it was almost a failure. Within thirty years, 
 however, it has passed through forty large editions in 
 England, while nearly a million of copies have been 
 sold in America. The annual sale of some 5000 copies 
 still witnesses to its almost unexampled popularity. 
 
 "In 1835 Mr. Tupper was united in marriage with Isabella, 
 only daughter of A. W. Devis, Esq., by whom he has four 
 sons and three daughters. 
 
 " In 1845 Mr. Tupper was elected a Fellow of the Royal 
 Society. He has received the gold medal for science and 
 literature from the King of Prussia ; he has likewise been
 
 -^^ 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. xi 
 
 honoured by marks of distinction from other potentates ; 
 and he is a D.C.L. of Oxford. 
 
 " Mr. Tupper resides near Guildford, in the parish of 
 Albury, upon his own property, inherited from his mother, 
 a direct descendant of Colonel Harris, who, in 1648, gal- 
 lantly held Pomfret Castle for Charles I. against General 
 Lambert. 
 
 " In 1839 Mr. Tupper published * A Modern Pyramid to 
 commemorate a Septuagint of Worthies,' being sonnets and 
 essays on seventy famous men and women ; in 1841, 'An 
 Author's Mind,' containing skeletons of thirty unpublished 
 books; in 1844, 'The Crock of Gold,' 'The Twins,' and 
 ' Heart,' tales illustrative of social vices, and which passed 
 through numerous editions; in 1847, 'Probabilities, an Aid 
 to Faith,' giving a new view of Christian evidences ; ' A 
 Thousand Lines,' ' Hactenus,' ' Gcraldine,' ' Lyrics,' ' Bal- 
 lads for the Times,' ' Things to Come,' * A Dirge for Wel- 
 lington,' ' Church Ballads,' ' White Slavery Ballads,' 
 ' American Ballads,' ' Rifle Ballads,' ' King Alfred,' a pa- 
 triotic play ; ' King Alfred's Poems,' translated from the 
 Anglo-Saxon into corresponding English metres. In 1856, 
 ' Paterfamilias 's Diary of Everybody's Tour,' 'The Rides 
 and Reveries of .^ sop Smith,' and 'Stephan Langton,' a 
 biographical novel, which seeks, with much graphic paint- 
 ing, to delineate Old England in the time of King John. 
 He has also published ' Cithara, a collection of Lyrics ;' 
 'Three Hundred Sonnets,' 'A Prophetic Ode;' and a 
 multitude of fugitive pieces, both verse and prose, which 
 have been scattered through newspapers and magazines. 
 His most recent productions have been ' Raleigh,' a play ; 
 'A Creed, &c ; ' ' The Antiritualistic Directorium,' a satire ; 
 and ' The Third Series of Proverbial Philosophy ; ' the 
 whole work to be concluded by a fourth series, now under- 
 stood to be in preparation. There are several translations 
 of the two first series, as French, German, Swedish, (S:c.
 
 #•■ 
 
 J' 
 
 Kii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 
 
 "The writings of Mr. Tiipper, bearing the impress of an 
 impulsive enthusiastic nature, are, it is asserted, poured 
 forth with exceeding ease and rapidity, and partake much 
 of the character of improvisation. That Mr. Tupper's 
 sympathy is readily excited by the interests of the day, is 
 not alone evinced in his numerous writings, both in prose 
 and verse, but also by the acts of his life, as for instance 
 the encouragement given by him to Liberian colonization, 
 his bestowal of a gold medal for the encouragement of 
 African literature, his active exertions in the Rifle Corps 
 movement, and in the promotion of international kindli- 
 ness between England and America. 
 
 "A notice of the life and labours of Mr. Tupper would 
 scarcely be complete without some reference to the dis- 
 favour with which he has been almost universally treated 
 by the writers of the public press, to a degree indeed which 
 almost amounts to persecution. Whether Mr. Tupper's 
 works appeal invariably to the highest order of intellect, it 
 is unnecessary to inquire ; but assuredly some respect is 
 due to a writer who, in an age remarkable for intellectul 
 activity amongst all classes, has appealed so successfully 
 to the public mind, has provided it with innocent and 
 elevating pabiiluni, and has enjoyed so wide-spread — and 
 on that account it may be inferred — deserved popularity, a 
 popularity for which the author may at all events claim to 
 be but little indebted to contemporary criticism." 
 
 
 A
 
 ONT 
 
 NTS, 
 
 FIRST SERIES. 
 
 Prefatory 
 
 The Words of Wisdom 
 
 Of Truth in Things False 
 
 Of Anticipation 
 
 Of Hidden Uses 
 
 Of Compensation 
 
 Of Indirect Influences 
 
 Of Memory 
 
 The Dream of Ambition 
 
 Of Subjection 
 
 Of Rest . 
 
 Of Humility 
 
 Of Pride 
 
 Of Experience 
 
 Of Estimating Character 
 
 Of Hatred and Anger 
 
 Of Good in Things Evil 
 
 Of Prayer 
 
 The Lord's Prayer 
 
 Of Discretion . 
 
 Of Trifles 
 
 Of Recreation . 
 
 The Train of Religion 
 
 PAGE 
 I 
 2 
 
 4 
 7 
 
 17 
 
 21 
 
 24 
 26 
 
 35 
 37 
 41 
 
 42 
 
 44 
 
 52 
 
 53 
 
 58 
 6i 
 
 63 
 
 65 
 68 
 
 7*
 
 
 K\V 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 ^ 
 
 Of a Trinitv 
 
 Of Thinking 
 
 Of Speaking 
 
 Of Reading 
 
 Of Writing 
 
 Of Wealth 
 
 Of Invention 
 
 Of Ridicule » 
 
 Of Commendation 
 
 Of Self-acquaintance 
 
 Of Cruelty to Ama-als 
 
 Of Friendship . 
 
 Of Love . 
 
 Of Marriage 
 
 Of Education 
 
 Of Tolerance 
 
 Of Sorrow 
 
 Of Joy 
 
 SECOND SERIES. 
 
 Introdmctory 
 
 Of Cheerfulness 
 
 Of Yesterday 
 
 Of To-day 
 
 Of To-morrow 
 
 Of Authorsh:p 
 
 Of Mystery 
 
 Of Gifts 
 
 Of Beauty 
 
 Of Fame 
 
 Of Flattery 
 
 Of Neglect 
 
 Of Contentment 
 
 9f Life . 
 
 Of Death 
 
 Of Immortality 
 
 Of Ideas 
 
 Of Names 
 
 Of Things 
 
 ^
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 -<t> 
 
 Of Faith 
 Of Honesty 
 Of Society 
 Of Solitude 
 The End . 
 
 I'AGF, 
 240 
 247 
 252 
 
 262 
 
 7 HTRD SERIES 
 
 Treample . 
 
 Of Innocence and Gxjij.t 
 
 Of this World's Age . 
 
 Of Circumstance 
 
 Of the Starry Heavens 
 
 Of Probabilities 
 
 Of Scripture and Sciexce 
 
 Of Silence 
 
 Of Spiritual Presences 
 
 Of Time . 
 
 Of Little Providences 
 
 Of Success 
 
 Of the Smaller Morals 
 
 Of Rhyme and Rhythm 
 
 Of Zoilism 
 
 Of Creeds 
 
 Of the Future of Animals 
 
 Of Happiness Together or Alone 
 
 A National PIymn for Harvest 
 
 A National Dirge in Trouble 
 
 A National Psalm of Victory 
 
 The Seven Sayings 
 
 Final .... 
 
 267 
 270 
 274 
 277 
 280 
 2S6 
 289 
 292 
 
 295 
 301 
 
 304 
 307 
 309 
 312 
 
 3H 
 320 
 
 331 
 335 
 
 0:11 
 
 339 
 341 
 
 345 
 
 FOURTH AND FINAL SERIES. 
 
 Opening 
 
 Of this Book's Story 
 
 Of the Bible 
 
 Of Home . 
 
 Of Social Pride 
 
 347 
 
 349 
 
 355 
 361 
 
 367 
 
 -*^
 
 r 
 
 .itvi CONTENTS. 
 
 * 
 
 Of Change and Travel 
 
 
 Of LIVEL1HOOD3 . 
 
 
 376 
 
 Of Fourfold Differences 
 
 
 381 
 
 Of Curious Questions . 
 
 
 387 
 
 Of Man's Date upon Earth 
 
 
 395 
 
 Of Sleep . 
 
 *   
 
 401 
 
 Of Delay 
 
 
 403 
 
 Of Great and Small . 
 
 
 405 
 
 Of Selfishness . 
 
 
 408 
 
 Of Slander 
 
 
 411 
 
 Of Real and Ideal 
 
 
 415 
 
 Of Habit 
 
 
 418 
 
 Of Economy 
 
 
 419 
 
 Of Industry and Idleness 
 
 
 420 
 
 Of Representation 
 
 
 423 
 
 Of Life's Work 
 
 
 425 
 
 Of Life's Lessons 
 
 
 430 
 
 Of Life's End . 
 
 
 438 
 
 The Consummation 
 
 
 441 
 
 m-}y^^'^$:^\^ -:- 
 
 4U-
 
 ■^ 
 
 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 FIRST SERIES. 
 
 PREFATORY. 
 
 Thoughts, tliat have tarried in my mind, and peopled its inner 
 
 cliambers, 
 The sober children of reason, or desultory train of fancy ; 
 Clear-running wine of conviction, with the scum and the lees of 
 
 speculation ; 
 Corn from the sheaves of science, with stubble from mine own 
 
 gamer : 
 Searchings after Truth, that have tracked her secret lodes. 
 And come up again to the surface-world, with a knowledge 
 
 grounded deeper ; 
 Arguments of high scope, that have soared to the keystone of 
 
 heaven. 
 And thence have swooped to their certain mark, as the falcon to 
 
 its quarry ; 
 Tlie fruits I have gathered of prudence, the ripened harvest of my 
 
 musings, 
 These commend I unto thee, O docile scholar of Wisdom, 
 These I give to thy gentle heart, thou lover of the right. 
 
 What, though a guilty man renew that hallowed theme, 
 And strike with feebler hand the harp of Sirach's son ? 
 What, though a youthful tongue take up that ancient parable. 
 And utter faintly forth dark sayirigs as of old ? 
 
 ^ 1
 
 J THE WORDS OF WISDOM. 
 
 Sweet is the virgin honey, though the wild bee have stored it in a 
 
 reed, 
 And briglit the jewelled band, that circleth an Ethiop's arm ; 
 Pure are the grains of gold in the turbid stream of Ganges, 
 A.nd fair the living flowers, that spring from the dull cold sod. 
 Wherefore, thou gentle student, bend thine ear to my speech, 
 For I also am as thou art ; our hearts can commune together : 
 To meanest matters will I stoop, for mean is the lot of mortal ; 
 I will rise to noblest themes, for the soul hath an heritage of glor)- : 
 The passions of puny man ; the majestic characters of God ; 
 The feverish sliadows of time, and the mighty substance of 
 
 eternity. 
 
 Commend thy mind unto candour, and grudge not as though thou 
 
 hadst a teacher, 
 Nor scorn angelic Truth for the sake of her evil herald ; 
 Heed not him, but hear his words, and care not whence they 
 
 come ; 
 The viewless winds might whisper them, the billows roar them 
 
 forth. 
 The mean unconscious sedge sigh them in the ear of evening. 
 Or the mind of pride conceive, and the mouth of folly speak them. 
 Lo now, I stand not forth laying hold on spear and buckler, 
 I come a man of peace, to comfort, not to combat ; 
 With soft persuasive speech to charm thy patient ear. 
 Giving the hand of fellowship, acknowledging the heart of sym- 
 pathy : 
 Let us walk together as friends in the shaded paths of meditation, 
 Nor Judgment set his seal until he hath poised his balance ; 
 That the chastenings of mild reproof may meet unwitting error, 
 And Charity not be a stranger at the board that is spread for 
 brothers. 
 
 THE WORDS OF WISDOM. 
 
 Few and precious are the words which the lips of Wisdom utter : 
 To what shall their rarity be likened ? What price shall count 
 
 their worth ? 
 Perfect and much to be desired, and giving joy with riches. 
 No lovely thing on earth can picture all their beauty. 
 
 ■A
 
 THE WORDS OF WISDOM. 3 
 
 'I'hey be chance penrls, flung among the rocks by the sullen waters 
 
 of Oblivion, 
 Which Diligence loveth to gather, and hang around the neck of 
 
 Memory ; 
 They be white-winged seeds of happiness, wafted from the islands 
 
 of the blessed, 
 Which Thought carefully tendeth, in the kindly garden of the 
 
 heart ; 
 They be sproutings of an harvest for eternity, bursting through the 
 
 tilth of time, 
 Green promise of the golden wheat, that yieldeth angels' food ; 
 They be drops of the crystal dew, which the wings of seraphs 
 
 scatter, 
 When on some brighter sabbath, their plumes quiver most with 
 
 delight : 
 Such, and so precious, are the words which the lips of Wisdom 
 
 utter. 
 
 Yet more, for the half is not said, of their might, and dignity, and 
 value ; 
 
 For life-giving be they and glorious, redolent of sanctity and 
 heaven : 
 
 As the fumes of hallowed incense, that veil the throne of the Most 
 High ; 
 
 As the beaded bubbles that sparkle on the rim of the cup of im- 
 mortality ; 
 
 As wreaths of the rainbow spray, from the pure cataracts of truth : 
 
 Such, and so precious, are the words which the lips of Wisdom 
 utter. 
 
 Yet once again, loving student, suffer the praises of thy teacher : 
 For verily the sun of the mind, and the life of the heart is 
 
 Wisdom : 
 She is pure and full of light, crowning grey hairs with lustre. 
 And kindling the eye of youth with a fire not its own : 
 And her words, whereunto canst thou liken them ? for earth can- 
 not show their peers : 
 They be grains of the diamond sand, the radiant floor of heaven, 
 Rising in sunny dust behind the chariot of God ; 
 They be flashes of the day-spring from on high, shed from the 
 windows of the skies ; 
 ^ 
 
 ■^ 
 
 ■*
 
 t 
 
 -N^ 
 
 4- 
 
 4 OF TRUTH IN THINGS FALSE. 
 
 They be streams of living waters, fresh from the fountain of 
 
 Intelligence : 
 Such, and so precious, are the words which the lips of Wisdom 
 
 utter. 
 
 For these shall guide thee well, and guard thee on thy way ; 
 And, wanting all beside, with these shalt thou be rich : 
 Though all around be woe, these shall make thee happy ; 
 Though all within be pain, these shall bring thee health ; 
 Thy good shall grow into ripeness, thine evil wither and decay. 
 And Wisdom's words shall sweetly charm thy doubtful into 
 
 virtues : 
 Meanness shall then be frugal care ; where shame was, thou art 
 
 modest ; 
 Cowardice riseth into caution, rashness is sobered into courage ; 
 The wrathful spirit, rendering a reason, standeth justified in anger ; 
 The idle hand hath fair excuse, propping the thoughtful forehead. 
 Life shall have no labyrinth but thy steps can track it, 
 For thou hast a silken clue, to lead thee through the darkness : 
 The rampant Minotaur of ignorance shall perish at thy coming, 
 And thine enfranchised fellows hail thy white victorious sails. 
 Wherefore, friend and scholar, hear the words of Wisdom ; 
 Whether she speaketh to thy soul in the full chords of revelation ; 
 In the teaching earth, or air, or sea ; in the still melodies of 
 
 thought ; 
 Or, haply, in the humbler strains that would detain thee here. 
 
 OF TRUTH IN THINGS FALSE. 
 
 Error is a hardy plant ; it flourisheth in every soil ; 
 
 In ^the heart of .the wise and good, alike with the wicked and 
 
 foolish. 
 For there is no error so crooked, but it hath in it some lines of 
 
 truth: 
 Nor is any poison so deadly, that it serveth not some wholesome 
 
 use : 
 And the just man, enamoured of the right, is blinded by the 
 
 speciousness of wrong ; 
 And the prudent, perceiving an advantage, is content to overlook 
 
 the harm.
 
 OF TRUTH IN THINGS FALSE. 
 
 On all things created remaineth the half-effaced signature of God, 
 Somewhat of fair and good, though blotted by the finger of cor- 
 ruption : 
 And if error cometli in like a flood, it mixeth with streams of 
 
 truth ; 
 And the Adversary loveth to have it so, for thereby many are 
 
 decoyed. 
 Providence is dark in its permissions ; yet one day, when all is 
 
 known, 
 The universe of reason shall acknowledge how just and good were 
 
 they; 
 For the wise man leaneth on his wisdom, and the righteous 
 
 trusteth to his righteousness, 
 And those, who thirst for independence, are suffered to drink of 
 
 disappointment. 
 Wherefore ? — to prove and humble them : and to teach the ido- 
 
 lators of Truth, 
 That it is but the ladder untc .Him, on whom only they should 
 
 trust. 
 
 There is truth in the wildest scheme that imaginative heat hath 
 
 engendered. 
 And a man may gather somewhat from the crudest theories of 
 
 fancy : 
 The alchymist laboureth in folly, but catcheth chance gleams of 
 
 wisdom, 
 And findeth out many inventions, though his crucible breed not 
 
 gold; 
 The sinner, toying with witchcraft, thinketh to delude his fellows. 
 But there be very spirits of evil, and what if they come at his 
 
 bidding ? 
 He is a bold bad man who dareth to tamper with, the dead ; 
 For their whereabout lieth in a mystery — thai vestibule leading to 
 
 Eternity, 
 The waiting-room for unclad ghosts, before the presence-chamber 
 
 of their King. 
 Mind may act upon mind, though bodies be far divided ; 
 For the life is in the blood, but souls communicate unseen : 
 And the heat of an excited intellect, radiating to its fellows. 
 Doth kindle dry leaves afar off, v/hile the green wood around it is 
 
 unwarmed. 
 
 -4* 
 
 4^
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 6 OF TRUTH IN THINGS FALSE. 
 
 The dog may have a spirit, as well as his bnital master ; 
 
 A spirit to live in happiness : for why should he be robbed of his 
 
 existence ? 
 Hath he not a conscience of evil, a glimmer of moral sense, 
 Love and hatred, courage and fear, and visible shame and pride ? 
 There may be a future rest for the patient victims of the cruel ; 
 And a season allotted for their bliss, to compensate for unjust 
 
 suffering. 
 Spurn not at seeming error, but dig below its surface for the truth ; 
 And beware of seeming truths, that grow on the roots of error ; 
 For comely are the apples that spring from the Dead Sea's cursed 
 
 shore, 
 But within are they dust and ashes, and th« hand that plucked 
 
 them shall rue it. 
 
 A frequent similar effect argueth a constant cause : 
 Yet who hath counted the links that bind an omen to its issue? 
 Who hath expounded the law that rendereth calamities gregarious, 
 Pressing down with yet more woes the heavy-laden mouruor ? 
 Who knoweth wherefore a monsoon should swell the sails of the 
 
 prosperous, 
 Blithely speeding on their course tlie children of good luck? 
 Who hath companied a vision from the horn or ivory gate ? 
 Or met another's mind in his, and explained its presence ? 
 There is a secret somewhat in antipathies ; and love is more than 
 
 fancy ; 
 Yea, and a palpable notice warneth of an instant danger ; 
 For the soul hath its feelers, cobwebs floating on the wind, 
 That catch events in their approach with sure and apt presenti- 
 ment, 
 So that some halo of attraction heraldeth a coming friend, 
 Investing in his likeness the stranger that passed on before ; 
 And while the word is in thy mouth, behold thy word fulfilled, 
 And he of whom we spake can answer for himself. 
 O man, little nast thou learnt of truth in things most true, 
 How tlierefore shall thy blindness wot of truth in things most 
 
 false ? 
 Thou hast not yet perceived the causes of life or motion. 
 How then canst thou define the subtle sympathies of mind? 
 For the spirit, sharpest and strongest when disease hath rent the 
 body,
 
 OF ANTICIPA TION. ^ 
 
 Hath welcomed kindred spirits in niylitly visitations, 
 Or learnt from restless ghosts dark secrets of the living, 
 And helped slow justice to her prey by the dreadful teaching of a 
 drearn. 
 
 Verily, there is nothing so true, that the damps of error have not 
 
 warped it ; 
 Verily, there is nothing so false, that a sparkle of tnith is not in it. 
 For the enemy, the father of lies, the giant Upas of creation. 
 Whose deadly shade hath blasted this once green garden of the 
 
 Lord, 
 Can but pervert the good, but may not create the evil ". 
 He destroyeth, but cannot build ; for he is not antagonist deity : 
 Mighty is his stolen power, yet is he a creature and a subject ; 
 Not a maker of abstract wrong, but a spoiler of concrete right : 
 The fiend hath not a royal crown ; he is but a prowling robber, 
 Suffered, for some mysterious end, to haunt the King's highway ; 
 And the keen sword he beareth, once was a simple ploughshare ; 
 Yea, and his panoply of error is but a distortion of the truth : 
 The sickle that once reaped righteousness, beaten from its useful 
 
 curve, 
 With axe, and spike, and bar, headeth the marauder's halbert. 
 Seek not further, O man, to solve the dark riddle of sin ; 
 Suffice it, that thine own bad heart is to thee thine origin of evil. 
 
 ■4 
 
 OF ANTICIPATION. 
 
 Thou hast seen many sorrows, travel-stained pilgrim of the world, 
 But that which hath vexed thee most hath been the looking for 
 
 evil ; 
 And though calamities have crossed thee, and misery been heaped 
 
 on thy head. 
 Yet ills, that never happened, have chiefly made thee wretched. 
 The sting of pain and the edge of pleasure are blunted by long 
 
 expectation. 
 For the gall and the balm alike are diluted in the waters of 
 
 patience : 
 And often thou sippest sweetness, ere the cup is dashed from thy 
 
 lip; 
 , Or drainest the gall of fear, while evil is passing by thy dwelling 
 
 ^ : — i^k^
 
 ^ 
 
 8 OF ANTIC I PA TION. 
 
 A man too careful of danger livetli in continual torment, 
 
 But a cheerful expecter of the best hath a fountain of joy within 
 him : 
 
 Yea, though the breath of disappointment should chill the san- 
 guine heart, 
 
 Speedily gloweth it again, warmed by the live embers of hope ; 
 
 Though the black and heavy surge close above the head for a 
 moment, 
 
 Yet the happy buoyancy of Confidence riseth superior to Despair. 
 
 Verily, evils may be courted, may be wooed and won by distrust : 
 
 For the wise Physician of our weal loveth not an unbelieving 
 spirit ; 
 
 And to those giveth He good, who rely on His hand for good ; 
 
 And those leaveth He to evil, who fear, but trust Him not. 
 
 Ask for good, and hope it ; for the ocean of good is fathomless ; 
 
 Ask for good, and have it ; for thy Friend would see thee happy ; 
 
 But to the timid heart, to the child of unbelief and dread, 
 
 That leaneth on his own weak staff, and trusteth the sight of his 
 eyes, 
 
 The evil he feared shall come, for the soil is ready for the seed, 
 
 And suspicion hath coldly put aside the hand that was ready to 
 help him. 
 
 Therefore look up, sad spirit ; be strong, thou coward heart, 
 
 Or fear will make thee wretched, though evil follow not behind : 
 
 Cease to anticipate misfortune; there are still many chances of 
 escape ; 
 
 But if it come, be courageous : face it, and conquer thy cala- 
 mity. 
 
 There is not an enemy so stout, as to storm and take the fortress 
 of the mind, 
 
 Unless its infirmity turn traitor, and Fear unbar the gates. 
 
 The valiant standeth as a rock, and the billows break upon him ; 
 
 The timorous b % skiff unmoored, tost and mocked at by a ripple : 
 
 The valiant holdeth fast to good, till evil wrench it from him ; 
 
 The timorous casteth it aside, to meet the worst half way : 
 
 Yet oftentimes is evil bu' a braggart, that provoketh and will not 
 fight; 
 
 Or the feint of a subtle fencer, who measureth his thrust else 
 where : 
 
 Or perchance a blessing in a masque, sent to try thy trust. 
 
 The precious smiting of a friend, whose frowns are all in love .•
 
 OF HIDDEN USES 9 
 
 Often the storm threateneth, hut is driven to olhcr climes, 
 And the weak hath quailed in fear, while the firm hath been glad 
 in his confidence. 
 
 OF HIDDEN USES. 
 
 The sea-wort floating on the waves, or rolled up high along the 
 
 shore, 
 Ye counted useless and vile, heaping on it names of contempt: 
 Yet hath it gloriously triumphed, and man been humbled in his 
 
 ignorance, 
 For health is in the freshness of its savour, and it cumbereth the 
 
 beach with wealth ; 
 Comforting the tossings of pain with its violet tinctured essence, 
 And by its humbler ashes enriching many proud. 
 Be this, then, a lesson to thy soul, that thou reckon nothing 
 
 worthless. 
 Because thou heedest not its use. nor knowest the virtues thereof. 
 And herein, as thou walkest by the sea, shall weeds be a type and 
 
 an earnest 
 Of the stored and uncounted riches lying hid in all creatures of 
 
 God : 
 There be flowers making glad the desert, and roots fattening the 
 
 soil, 
 And jewels in the secret deep, scattered among groves of coral, 
 And comforts to crown all wishes, and aids unto every need, 
 Influences yet unthought, and virtues, and many inventions. 
 And uses above and around, which man hath not yet regarded. 
 Not long to charm away disease hath the crocus yielded up its 
 
 bulb. 
 Nor the willow lent its bark, nor the nightshade its vanquished 
 
 poison ; 
 Not long hath the twisted leaf, the fragrant gift of China, 
 Nor that nutritious root, the boon of far Peru, 
 Nor the many-coloured dahlia, nor the gorgeous flaunting cactus. 
 Nor the multitude of fruits and flowers ministered to life and 
 
 luxury : 
 Even so, there be virtues yet unknown in the wasted foliage of tlie 
 
 elm. 
 In the sun-dried harebell of the downs, and the hyacinth drinking 
 
 in the meadow, 
 1^-
 
 ^■ 
 
 ^ 
 
 lo OF HIDDEN USES. 
 
 In the sycamore's winged fruit, and the facet-cut cones of the 
 
 cedar ; 
 And the pansy and bright geranium live not alone for beauty, 
 Nor the waxen flower of the arbute, though it dieth in a day, 
 Nor the sculptured crest of the fir, imseen but by the stars ; 
 And the meanest weed of the garden serveth unto many uses, 
 The salt tamarisk, and juicy flag, the freckled orchis, and the 
 
 daisy. 
 The world may laugh at famine, when forest-trees yield bread. 
 When acorns give out fragrant drink, and the sap of the linden is 
 
 as fatness : 
 For every green Iierb, from the lotus to the darnel, 
 Is rich with delicate aids to help incurious man. 
 
 Still, Mind is up and stirring, and pryeth in the corners of con- 
 trivance. 
 Often from the dark recesses picking out bright seeds of truth : 
 Knowledge hath clipped the lightning's wings, and mewed it up 
 
 for a purpose, 
 Training to some domestic task the fiery bird of heaven ; 
 Tamed is the spirit of tlie storm, to slave in all peaceful arts, 
 To walk with husbandry and science ; to stand in the vanguard 
 
 against death : 
 And the chemist balanceth his elements with more than magic 
 
 skill. 
 Commanding stones that they be bread, and draining sweetness 
 
 out of wormwood. 
 Yet man, heedless of a God, countetli up vain reckonings. 
 Fearing to be jostled and starved out, by tlie too prolific increase 
 
 of his kind ; 
 And asketh, in unbelieving dread, for how few years to come 
 Will the black cellars of the world yield unto him fuel for his 
 
 winter. 
 Might not the wide waste sea be pent within narrower bounds ? 
 Might not the arm of diligence make the tangled wilderness a 
 
 garden? 
 And for aught thou canst tell, there may be a thousand methods 
 Of comforting thy limbs in warmth, thougli thou kindle not a 
 
 spark. 
 Fear not, son of man, for thyself nor thy seed : — with a multiluda 
 
 is plenty ; ,
 
 OF HIDDEN USES. n 
 
 God's blessing giveth increase, and with it larger than enough. 
 
 Search out the wisdom of nature, there is depth in all her doings ; 
 She seemeth prodigal of power, yet her rules are the maxims of 
 
 frugality : 
 The plant refresheth the air, and the earth filtereth the water, 
 And dews are sucked into the cloud, dropping fatness on the 
 
 world : 
 She hath, on a mighty scale, a general use for all tilings ; 
 Yet hath she specially for each its microscopic purpose : 
 There is use in the prisoned air, that swelleth the pods of tlie 
 
 laburnum; 
 Design in the venomed thorns, that sentinel the leaves of the 
 
 nettle ; 
 A final cause for the aromatic gum, that congealeth the moss 
 
 around a rose : 
 A reason for each blade of grass, that reareth its small spire. 
 How knoweth discontented man what a train of ills might 
 
 follow, 
 If the lowest menial of nature knew not her secret office, 
 If the thistle never sprang up to mock the loose husbandry of in- 
 dolence. 
 Or the pestilence never swept away an unknown curse from among 
 
 men? 
 Would ye crush the buzzing myriads that float on the breath of 
 
 evening ? 
 Would ye trample the creatures of God that people the rotting 
 
 frait ? 
 Would ye suffer no mildew forest to stain the unhealthy w all. 
 Nor a noisome savour to exhale from the pool tiiat breedeth 
 
 disease ? 
 Pain is useful unto man, for it teacheth him to guard his life. 
 And the fetid vapours of the fen warn him to fly from danger : 
 And the meditative mind, looking on, winneth good food for its 
 
 hunger, 
 Seeing the wholesome root bring forth a poisonous berry ; 
 For otherwhile falleth it out that truth, driven to extremities, 
 Yieldeth bitter folly as the spoilt fruit of wisdom. 
 O, blinded is thine eye, if it see not just aptitude in all tilings : 
 O, frozen is thy heart, if it glow not with gratitude for all 
 things ; 
 
 -^ 
 
 i
 
 ^- 
 
 1^ OF HIDDEN USES. 
 
 In the perfect circle of creation not an atom could be spared, 
 From earth's magnetic zone to the bindweed round a haw- 
 thorn. 
 
 The sage, and the beetle at his feet, hath each a ministration to 
 
 perform : 
 The briar and the palm have the wages of life, rendering secret 
 
 service. 
 Neither is it thus alone with the definite existences of matter ; 
 But motion and sound, circumstance and quality, yea, all things 
 
 have their office. 
 The zephyr playing with an aspen-leaf, — the earthquake that rend- 
 
 eth a continent ; 
 The moon-beam silvering a ruined arch, — the desert-wave dashing 
 
 up a pyramid ; 
 The thunder of jarring icebergs, — the stops of a shepherd's pipe ; 
 The howl of the tiger in the glen, — and the wood-dove calling to 
 
 her mate ; 
 The vulture's cruel rage, — the grace of the stately swan ; 
 The fierceness looking from the lynx's eye, and the dull stupor of 
 
 the sloth : 
 To these, and to all, is there added each its USE, though man con- 
 
 sidereth it lightly : 
 For Power hath ordained nothing which Economy saw not 
 
 needful. 
 
 All' things being are in concord with the ubiquity of God, 
 
 Neithei is there one thing overmuch, nor freed from honourable 
 
 servitude. 
 Were there not a need-be of wisdom, nothing would be as it is, 
 For essence without necessity argueth a moral weakness. 
 We look through a glass darkly, we catch but glimpses of truth ; 
 But, doubtless, the sailing of a cloud hath Providence to its pilot. 
 Doubtless, the root of an oak is gnarled for a special purpose. 
 The foreknown station of a rush is as fixed as the station of a king, 
 And chaff from the hand of the winnower, steered as the stars in 
 
 their courses. 
 Man liveth only in himself, but the Lord liveth in all things ; 
 And his pervading unity quickeneth tlie whole creation. 
 Man doeth one thing at once, nor can he think two thoughts 
 
 together ;
 
 OF compensation: 13 
 
 But God compasseth all things, mantling the globe like air : 
 And we render homage to his wisdom, seeing use in all his 
 
 creatures, 
 For, perchance, the universe would die, were not all things as 
 
 they are. 
 
 OF COMPENSATION. 
 
 Equal is the government of heaven in allotting pleasures among 
 
 men, 
 And just the everlasting law, that hath wedded happiness to 
 
 virtue : 
 For verily on all things else broodeth disappointment with care. 
 That childish man may be taught the shallowness of earthly en- 
 joyment. 
 Wherefore, ye that have enough, envy ye the rich man his 
 
 abundance ? 
 Wherefore, daughters of affluence, covet ye the cottager's content ? 
 Take the good with the evil, for ye all are pensioners of God, 
 And none may choose or refuse the cup His wisdom mixetlj. 
 The poor man rejoiceth at his toil, and his daily meat is sweet to 
 
 him : 
 Content with present good, he looketh not for evil to the future : 
 The rich man languisheth with sloth, and findeth pleasure in 
 
 nothing. 
 He locketh up care with his gold, and feareth the fickleness of 
 
 fortune. 
 Can a cup contain within itself the measure of a bucket ? 
 Or the straitened appetites of man drink more than their fill of 
 
 luxury ? 
 There is a limit to enjoyment, though the sources of wealth be 
 
 boundless : 
 And the choicest pleasures of life lie within the ring of moderation. 
 
 Also, though penury and pain be real and bitter evils, 
 
 I would reason with the poor afflicted, for he is not so wretched as 
 
 he seemeth. 
 What right hath an offender to complain, though others escape 
 punishment, 
 , If the stripes of earned misfortune overtake him in his sin? 
 ^ ^^ 
 
 T
 
 4- 
 
 ^ 
 
 14 • OF COMPEMSA TION. 
 
 Wherefore not emlure with resignation the evils thou canst not 
 
 avert ? 
 For the coward pain will flee, if thou meet him as a man : 
 Consider, whatever be thy fate, that it might and ought to have 
 
 been worse, 
 And that it lieth in thy hand to gather even blessing from afflic- 
 tions : 
 Bethink thee, wherefore M-ere they sent ? and hath not use blunted 
 
 their keenness ? 
 Need hope, and patience, and courage, be strangers to the meanest 
 
 hovel ? 
 Thou art in an evil case, it were cruel to deny to thee compassion. 
 But there is not unmitigated ill in the sharpest of this world's 
 
 sorrows : 
 I touch not the sore of thy guilt ; but of human griefs I counsel 
 
 thee, 
 Cast off the weakness of regret, and gird thee to redeem thy loss : 
 Thou hast gained, in the furnace of affliction, self knowledge, 
 
 patience, and humility. 
 And these be as precious ore, that waiteth the skill of the coiner : 
 Despise not the blessings of adversity, nor the gain thou hast 
 
 earned so hardly. 
 And now thou hast drained the bitter, take heed that thou lose not 
 
 the sweet. 
 
 Power is seldom innocent, and envy is the yoke-fellow of 
 
 eminence ; 
 And the rust of the miser's riches wasteth his soul as a canker. 
 The poor man counteth not the cost at which such wealth hath 
 
 been purchased ; 
 He would be on the mountain's top, without the toil and travail of 
 
 the climbing. 
 But equity demandeth recompense : for high-place, calumny and 
 
 care ; 
 For state, comfortless splendour eating out the heart of home ; 
 For warrior fame, dangers and death ; for a name among the 
 
 learned, a spirit overstrained ; 
 For honour of all kinds, the goad of ambition ; on every acquire- 
 ment, the tax of anxiety. 
 He that would change with another, must take the cup as it is 
 
 mixed : 
 
 -^
 
 OF COMPENSATION. 15 
 
 Poverty, with largeness of heart ; or a full purse, with a sordid 
 
 spirit ; 
 Wisdom, in an ailing body ; or a common mind, with health • 
 Godliness, with man's scorn ; or the welcome of the mighty, with 
 
 guilt : 
 Beauty, with a fickle heart ; or plainness of face, with affection. 
 For so hath Providence determined, that a man shall not easily 
 
 discover 
 Unmingled good or evil, to quicken his envy or abhorrence. 
 A bold man or a fool must he be, who would change his lot with 
 
 another ; 
 It were a fearful bargain, and mercy hath lovingly refused it : 
 For we know the worst of ourselves, but the secrets of another we 
 
 see not. 
 And better is certain bad, than the doubt and dread of worse. 
 
 Just, and strong, and opportune is the moral rule of God ; 
 
 Ripe in its times, firm in its judgments, equal in the measure of its 
 
 gifts : 
 Yet men, scanning the surface, count the wicked happy. 
 Nor heed the compensating peace, which gladdeneth the good in 
 
 his afflictions. 
 They see not the frightful dreams that crowd a bad man's pillow. 
 Like wreathed adders crawling round his midnight conscience ; 
 They hear not the terrible suggestions, that knock at the portal of 
 
 his will, 
 Provoking to wipe away from life the one weak witness of the 
 
 deed ; 
 They know not the torturing suspicions that sting his panting breast, 
 When the clear eye of penetration quietly readeth off the truth. 
 Likewise of the good what know they ? the memories bringing 
 
 pleasure. 
 Shrined in the heart of the benevolent, and glistening from his eye ; 
 The calm self-justifying reason that establisheth the upright in his 
 
 purpose ; 
 The warm and gushing bliss that floodeth all the thoughts of the 
 
 religious. 
 Many a beggar at the cross way, or grey-haired shepherd on the 
 
 plain, 
 Hath more of the end of all wealth, than hundreds who multiply 
 
 the means. 
 
 ^ 
 
 4
 
 ^' 
 
 1 6 OF compensation: 
 
 Moreover, a moral compensation reacheth to the secrecy of 
 thought ; 
 
 For if thou wilt think evil of thy neighbour, soon shall thou have 
 him for thy foe : 
 
 And yet he may know nothing of the cause that maketh thee dis- 
 tasteful to his soul, — 
 
 The cause of unkind suspicion, for which thou hast thy punish- 
 ment ; 
 
 And if thou think of him in charity, wishing or praying for his 
 weal, 
 
 lie shall not guess the secret charm that lureth his soul to love 
 thee. 
 
 For just is retributive ubiquity : Samson did sin with Dalilah, 
 
 And his eyes and captive strength were forfeit to the Philistine . 
 
 Jacob robbed his brother, and sorrow was his portion to the 
 grave : 
 
 David must fly before his foes, yea, though his guilt is covered : 
 
 And He, who, seeming old in youth, was marred for others' sin, 
 
 For every special crime must bear its special penalty : 
 
 By luxury, or rashness, or vice, the member that hath erred 
 suffereth, — 
 
 And therefore the Sacrifice for all was pained at every pore. 
 
 Alike to the slave and his oppressor cometh night with sweet 
 refreshment, 
 
 And half of the life of the most wretched is gladdened by the 
 soothings of sleep : 
 
 Pain addeth zest unto pleasure, and teacheth the luxury of health ; 
 
 There is a joy in sorrow, which none but a mourner can know : 
 
 Madness hath imaginary bli'^s, and most men have no more ; 
 
 Age hath its quiet calm, and youth enjoyeth not for haste : 
 
 Daily, in the midst of its beatitude, the righteous soul is vexed ; 
 
 And even the misery of guilt doth attain to the bliss of pardon. 
 
 Who, in the face of the bom-blind, ever looked on other than con- 
 tent? 
 
 And the deaf ear listeneth within to the silent music of the heart. 
 
 There is evil poured upon the earth from the overflowings of coi- 
 ruption, — 
 
 Sickness, and poverty, and pain, and guilt, and madness, and 
 sorrow ; 
 
 But, as the water from a fountain riseth and sinketh to its level.
 
 VF INDIRE CT I NFL UENCES. 1 7 
 
 Ceaselessly toileth justice to equalize the lots of men : 
 
 For, habit and hope and ignorance, and the being but one of a 
 
 multitude, 
 And strength of reason in the sage, and dulness of feeling in the 
 
 fool, 
 And the light elasticity of courage, and the calm resignation of 
 
 meekness. 
 And the stout endurance of decision, and the weak carelessness of 
 
 apathy, 
 And helps invisible but real, and ministerings not unfelt, 
 Angelic aid with worldly discomfiture, bodily loss with the soul's 
 
 gain, 
 Secret griefs, and silent joys, thorns in the flesh, and cordials for 
 
 the spirit, 
 ( — Short of the insuperable barrier dividing innocence from 
 
 guilt,—) 
 Go far to level all things, by the gracious rule of Compensation. 
 
 ^ 
 
 OF INDIRECT INFLUENCES. 
 
 Face thy foe in the field, and perchance thou wilt meet thy 
 
 master, 
 For the sword is chained to his wrist, and his armour buckled for 
 
 the battle ; 
 But find him when he looketh not for thee, aim between the joints 
 
 of his harness. 
 And the crest of his pride will be humbled, his cruelty will bite 
 
 the dust. 
 Beard not a lion in his den, but fashion the secret pitfall. 
 So shalt thou conquer the strong, thyself triumphing in weakness. 
 The hurricane rageth fiercely, and the promontory standetli in its 
 
 might. 
 Breasting the artillery of heaven, as darts glance from the croco- 
 dile : 
 But the small continual creeping of the silent footsteps of the sea 
 Mineth the wall of adamant, and stealthily compasseth its ruin. 
 The weakness of accident is strong, where the strength of design 
 
 is weak : 
 
 And a casual analogy convinceth, when a mind beareth not arcu- 
 
 ment. 
 
 B 

 
 ^ 
 
 15 UF INDIRECT INFLUENCES. 
 
 Will not a man listen ? be silent ; and prove thy maxim by 
 
 example : 
 Never fear, thou losest not thy hold, though thy mouth doth not 
 
 render a reason. 
 Contend not in wisdom with a fool, for thy sense maketh much of 
 
 his conceit ; 
 And some errors never would have thriven, had it not been for 
 
 learned refutation : 
 Yea, much evil hath been caused by an honest wrestler for truth. 
 And much of unconscious good, by the man that hated wisdom : 
 For the intellect judgeth closely, and if thou overstep thy argu- 
 ment, 
 Or seem not consistent with thyself, or fail in thy direct purpose. 
 The mind that \vent along with thee, shall stop and return without 
 
 thee. 
 And thou shalt have raised a foe, where thou mightest have 
 
 won a friend. 
 
 Hints, shrewdly strown, mightily disturb the spirit, 
 Where a bare-faced accusation would be too ridiculous for ca- 
 lumny : 
 The sly suggestion toucheth nerves, and nerves contract the fronds, 
 And the sensitive mimosa of affection trembleth to its root ; 
 And friendships, the growth of half a century, those oaks that 
 
 laugh at storms, 
 Have been cankered in a night by a worm, even as the prophet's 
 
 gourd. 
 Hast thou loved and not known jealousy ? for a sidelong look 
 Can please or pain thy heart more than the multitude of proofs : 
 Hast thou hated, and not learned that thy silent scorn 
 Doth deeper aggravate thy foe than loud-cursing malice? — 
 A wise man prevaileth in power, for he screeneth his battering 
 
 engine. 
 But a fool tilteth headlong, and his adversary is aware. 
 
 Behold those broken arches, that oriel all unglazed, 
 
 That crippled line of columns bleaching in the sun, 
 
 The delicate shaft stricken midway, and the flying buttress 
 
 Idly stretching forth to hold up tufted ivy : 
 
 Thinkest thou the thousand eyes that shine with rapture on a ruin, 
 
 Would have looked with half their wonder on the perfect pile ? 
 
 ■^
 
 OF INDIRECT INFLUENCES. 19 
 
 And wherefore not — but that light hints, suggesting unseen 
 
 beauties, 
 Fill the complacent gazer with self-grown conceits ? 
 And so, the rapid sketch winneth more praise to the painter, 
 Than the consummate work elaborated on his easel : 
 And so, the Helvetic lion caverned in the living rock 
 Hath more of majesty and force, than if upon a marble pedestai. 
 
 Tell me, daughter of taste, what hath charmed thine ear in 
 
 music 
 
 ■> 
 
 Is it the laboured theme, the curious fugue or cento, — 
 
 Nor rather the sparkles of intelligence flashing from some strange 
 
 note, 
 Or the soft melody of sounds far sweeter for simplicity ? 
 Tell me, thou son of science, what hath filled thy mind in reading? 
 Is it the volume of detail where all is orderly set down 
 And they that read may run, nor need to stop and think ; 
 The book carefully accurate, that counteth thee no better than a 
 
 fool. 
 Gorging the passive mind with annotated notes ; — 
 Nor rather the half-suggested thoughts, the riddles thou mayst 
 
 solve. 
 The fair ideas, coyly peeping like young loves out of roses. 
 The quaint arabesque conceptions, half cherub and half flower, 
 The light analogy, or deep allusion, trusted to thy learning. 
 The confidence implied in thy skill to unravel meaning mysteries ? 
 For ideas are ofttimes shy of the close furniture of words, 
 And thought, wherein only is power, may be best conveyed by a 
 
 suggestion : 
 The flash that lighteth up a valley, amid the dark midnight of a 
 
 storm, 
 Coineth the mind with that scene sharper than fifty summers. 
 
 A worldly man boasteth in his pride, that there is no power but of 
 
 money ; 
 And he judgeth the characters of men by the differing measures of 
 
 their means : 
 He stealeth all goodly names, as worth, and value, and substance. 
 Which be the ancient heritage of Virtue, but such an one ascribet) 
 
 unto Wealth : 
 He spurneth the needy sage, whose wL'^dom hath enriched nationr, 
 
 4
 
 : _-^ 
 
 20 OJ^ INDIRECT INFLUENCES. 
 
 And the sons of poverty and learning, without whom earth were a 
 
 desert : 
 Music, the soother of cares, the tuner of the dank discordant 
 
 heart-strings, 
 It is nought unto such an one but sounds, whereby some earn their 
 
 living : 
 The poem, and the picture, and the statue, to him seem idle 
 
 baubles. 
 Which wealth condescendeth to favour, to gain him the name of 
 
 patron. 
 Bui little wotteth he the might of the means his folly despiseth ; 
 He considereth not that these be the wires which move the puppets 
 
 of the world. 
 A sentence hath formed a character, and a character subdued a 
 
 kingdom ; 
 A picture hath ruined souls, or raised them to commerce with the 
 
 skies : 
 The pen hath shaken nations, and stablished the world in peace ; 
 And the whole full horn of plenty been filled from the vial of 
 
 science. 
 He regardeth man as sensual, the monarch of created matter. 
 And careth not aught for mind, that linketh him with spirits 
 
 unseen ; 
 He feedeth his carcase and is glaa, though his soul be faint and 
 
 famished, 
 And the dull brute power of the body bindeth him a captive to 
 
 himself. 
 
 Man liveth from hour to hour, and knoweth not what may 
 happen ; 
 
 Influences circle him on all sides, and yet must he answer for his 
 actions : 
 
 For the being that is master of himself, bendeth events to his will. 
 
 But a slave to selfish passion is the wavering creature of circum- 
 stance. 
 
 To this man temptation is a poison, to that man it addeth vigour ; 
 
 And each may render to himself influences good or evil. 
 
 As thou directest the power, harm or advantage will follow, 
 
 ^nd the torrent that swept the valley, may be led to turn a mill ; 
 
 The wild electric flash, that could have kindled comets, 
 A ^ May by the ductile wire give ease to an ailing child. ^ 
 
 •'? — ^
 
 OF MEMORY. 21 
 
 For outward matter or event fashion not the character within, 
 But each man, yielding or resisting, fashioneth his mind for 
 himself. 
 
 Some have said, What is in a name ? — most potent plastic 
 
 influence ; 
 A name is a word of character, and repetition stablisheth the fact : 
 A word of rebuke, or of honour, tending to obscurity or fame ; 
 And greatest is the power of a name, when its power is least 
 
 suspected. 
 A low name is a thorn in the side, that hindereth the footman in 
 
 his running ; 
 But a name of ancestral renown shall often put the racer to his 
 
 speed. 
 Few men have grown unto greatness whose names are allied to 
 
 ridicule. 
 And many would never have been profligate, but for the splendour 
 
 of a name. 
 A wise man scornetli nothing, be it never so small or homely, 
 For he knoweth not the secret laws that may bind it to great 
 
 eff'ects. 
 The world in its boyhood was credulous, and dreaded the vengeance 
 
 of the stars. 
 The world in its dotage is not wiser, fearing not the influence of 
 
 small things : 
 Planets govern not the soul, nor guide the destinies of man. 
 But trifles, lighter than straws, are levers in the building up of 
 
 character. 
 A man hath the tiller in his hand, and may steer against the 
 
 current, 
 Or may glide down idly with the stream, till his vessel founder in 
 
 the whirlpool. 
 
 
 OF MEMORY. 
 
 "Where art thou, storehouse of the mind, garner of facts and 
 
 fancies, — 
 In what strange firmament are laid the beams of thine airy 
 
 chambers ? 
 Or art thou that small cavern, the centre of the rolling brain, 
 
 +
 
 4- 
 
 22 OF MEMORY. 
 
 Where still one sandy morsel testifieth man's original ? 
 
 Or hast thou some grand globe, some common hall of intellect, 
 
 Some spacious market-place for thought, where all do bring their 
 
 wares, 
 And gladly rescued from the littleneiss, the narrow closet of a self, 
 The privileged soul hath large access, coming in the livery of 
 
 learning ? 
 Live we as isolated worlds, perfect in substance and spirit, 
 Each a sphere, with a special mind, prisoned in its shell of 
 
 matter? 
 Or rather, as converging radiations, parts of one majestic whole, 
 Beams of the Sun, streams from the River, branches of the mighty 
 
 Tree, 
 Some bearing fruit, some bearing leaves, and some diseased and 
 
 barren, — 
 Some for the feast, some for the floor, and some, — how many, — for 
 
 the fire? 
 Memory may be but a power of coming to the treasury of Fact, 
 A momentary self-desertion, an absence in spirit from the now, 
 An actual coursing hither and thither, by the mind, slipped from 
 
 its leash, 
 A life, as in the mystery of dreams, spent within the limits of a 
 
 moment. 
 
 A brutish man knoweth not this, neither can a fool comprehend it. 
 But there be secrets of the memory, deep, M-ondrous, and fearful. 
 Were I at Petra, could I not declare. My soul hath been here 
 
 before me ? 
 Am I strange to the columned halls, the calm dead grandeur of 
 
 Palmyra ? 
 Know I not thy mount, O Carmel ! Have I not voyaged on the 
 
 Danube, 
 Nor seen the glare of Arctic snows, — nor the black tents of the 
 
 Tartar ? 
 Is it then a dream, that I remember the faces of them of old, 
 While wandering in the grove with Plato, and listening to Zeno in 
 
 the porch ? 
 Paul have I seen, and Pythagoras, and the Stagyrite hath spoken 
 
 me friendly. 
 And His meek eye looked also upon me, standing with Peter in 
 
 the palace.
 
 OF MEMORY. 23 
 
 Athens and Rome, Persepolis and Sparta, am I not a freeman of 
 
 you all ? 
 And chiefly can my yearning heart forget thee, O Jerusalem ? — 
 For the strong magic of conception, mingled with the fumes of 
 
 memory, 
 Giveth me a life in all past time, yea, and addeth substance to the 
 
 future. 
 Be ye my judges, imaginative minds, full-fledged to soar into the 
 
 sun. 
 Whose grosser natural thoughts the chemistry of wisdom hath 
 
 sublimed, 
 Have ye not confessed to a feeling, a consciousness strange and 
 
 vague, 
 That ye have gone this way before, and walk again your daily life, 
 Tracking an old routine, and on some foreign strand, 
 Where bodily ye have never stood, finding your own footsteps? 
 Hath not at times some recent friend looked out an old familiar. 
 Some newest circumstance or place teemed as with ancient 
 
 memories ? 
 A startling sudden flash lighteth up all for an instant, 
 And then it is quenched, as in darkness, and leaveth the cold 
 
 spirit trembling. 
 
 Memory is not wisdom ; idiots can rote volumes : 
 
 Yet what is wisdom without memory ? a babe that is strangled in 
 
 its birth. 
 The path of the swallow in the air, the path of the dolphin in the 
 
 waters, 
 A cask running out, a bottomless chasm : such is wisdom without 
 
 memory. 
 There be many wise, who cannot store their knowledge ; 
 Yet from themselves are they satisfied, for the fountain is within : 
 There be many who store, but have no wisdom of their own, 
 Lumbering their armoury with weapons their muscles cannot lift : 
 There be many thieves and robbers, who glean and store 
 
 unlawfully. 
 Calling in to memory's help some cunningly devised Cabala : 
 But to feed the mind with fatness, to fill thy granary with corn, 
 Nor clog with chaff and straw the threshing-floor of reason. 
 Reap the ideas, and house them well ; but leave the words high 
 
 stubble : 
 
 ^ 
 
 #-
 
 ^ 
 
 24 TJIE DREAM OF AMBITION. 
 
 Strive to store up what was thought, despising what was said. 
 For the mind is a spirit, and drinketh in ideas, as flame melteth 
 
 into flame ; 
 But for words it must pack them as on floors, cumbrous and 
 
 perishable merchandize. 
 
 To be pained for a minute, to fear for an hour, to hope for a 
 
 week, — how long and weary ! 
 But to remember fourscore years, is to look back upon a day. 
 An avenue seemeth to lengthen in the eyes of the wayfaring man, 
 But let him turn, those stationed elms crowd up within a yard ; 
 Pace the lamp-lit streets of some sleeping city, 
 The multitude of cressets shall seem one, in the false picture of 
 
 perspective ; 
 Even so, in sweet treachery, dealeth the aged with himself. 
 He gazeth on the green hill-tops, while the marshes beneath are 
 
 hidden ; 
 And the partial telescope of memory pierceth the blank between, 
 To look with lingering love at the fair star of childhood. 
 Life is as the current spark on the miner's wheel of flints ; 
 Whiles it spinneth there is light ; stop it, all is darkness : 
 Life is as a morsel of frankincense burning in the hall of Eternity ; 
 It is gone, but its odorous cloud curleth to the lofty roof: 
 Life is as a lump of salt, melting in the temple-laver ; 
 It is gone, — yet its savour reacheth to the farthest atom : 
 Even so, for evil or for good, is life the criterion of a man, 
 For its memories of sanctity or sin pervade all the firmament of 
 
 being. 
 There is but the flitting moment, wherein to hope or to enjoy, 
 But in the calendar of memory, that moment is all time. 
 
 4- 
 
 THE DREAM OF AMBITION. 
 
 I LEFT the happy fields that smile around the village of Content, 
 And sought with wayward feet the torrid desert of Ambition. 
 Long time, parched and weary, I travelled that burning sand, 
 And the hooded basilisk and adder were strewed in my way for 
 
 palms ; 
 Black scorpions thronged me round, with sharp uplifted stings. 
 Seeming to mock me as I ran ; (then I guessed it was a dream, —
 
 THE DREAM OF AMBITION: 25 
 
 But life is oft so like a dream, we know not where we are.) 
 So I toiled on, doubting in myself, up a steep gravel cliff. 
 Whose yellow summit shot up far into the brazen sky ; 
 And quickly, I was wafted to the top, as upon unseen wings 
 Carrying me upward like a leaf : (then I thought it was a 
 
 dream, — 
 Yet life is oft so like a dream, we know not where we are.) 
 So I stood on the mountain, and behold ! before me a giant 
 
 pyramid, 
 And I clomb with eager haste its high and difficult steps ; 
 For I longed, like another Belus, to mount up, yea to heaven, 
 Nor sought I rest until my feet had spurned the crest of earth. 
 
 Then I sat on my granite throne under the burning sun. 
 
 And the world lay smiling beneath me, but I was wrapt in 
 
 flames ; 
 (And I hoped, in glimmering consciousness, that all this torture 
 
 was a dream, — 
 Yet life is oft so like a dream, we know not where we are.) 
 And anon, as I sat scorching, the pyramid shuddered to its root, 
 And I felt the quarried mass leap from its sand foundations : 
 Awhile it tottered and tilted, as raised by invisible levers, — 
 (And now my reason spake with me ; I knew it was a dream : 
 Yet I hushed that whisper into silence, for I hoped to learn of 
 
 wisdom, 
 By tracking up my truant thoughts, whereunto they might lead.) 
 And suddenly, as rolling upon wheels, adown the cliff it rushed. 
 And I thought, in my hot brain, of the Muscovites' icy slope ; 
 A thousand yards in a moment we ploughed the sandy seas, 
 And crushed those happy fields, and that smiling village, 
 And onward, as a living thing, still rushed my mighty throne. 
 Thundering along, and pounding, as it went, the millions in my 
 
 way : 
 Before me all was life, and joy, and full-blown summer, 
 Behind me death and woe, the desert and simoom. 
 Then I wept and shrieked aloud, for pity and for fear ; 
 But might not stop, for, comet-like, flew on the maddened mass 
 Over the crashing cities, and falling obelisks and towers. 
 And columns, razed as by a scythe, and high domes, shivered as 
 
 an egg-shell, 
 And deep embattled ranks, and women, crowded in the streets, 
 
 ^
 
 
 26 OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 And children, kneeling as for mercy, and all I had ever loved, 
 Yea, over all, mine awful throne rushed on with seeming 
 
 instinct, — 
 And over the crackling forests, and over the rugged beach. 
 And on with a terrible hiss through the foaming wild Atlantic 
 That roared around me as I sat, but could not quench my spirit, — 
 Still on, through startled solitudes we shattered the pavement of 
 
 the sea, 
 Down, down, to that central vault, the bolted doors of hell ; 
 And these, with horrid shock, my huge throne battered in, 
 And on to the deepest deep, where the fierce flames were hottest, 
 Blazing tenfold as conquering furiously the seas that rushed in with 
 
 me, — 
 And there I stopped : and a fearful voice shouted in mine ear, 
 "Behold the home of Discontent ; behold the rest of Ambition I" 
 
 ^ 
 
 OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 Law hath dominion over all things, over universal mind and 
 
 matter ; 
 For there are reciprocities of right, which no creature can gainsay. 
 Unto each was there added by its Maker in the perfect chain of 
 
 being. 
 Dependencies and sustentations, accidents, and qualities, and 
 
 powers : 
 And each must fly forward in the curve, unto which it was forced 
 
 from the beginning : 
 Each must attract and repel, or the monarchy of Order is no more. 
 Laws are essential emanations from the self-poised character of 
 
 God, 
 And they radiate from that sun to the circling edges of creation. 
 Verily, the mighty Lawgiver hath subjected Himself unto laws, 
 And God is the primal grand example of free unstrained obe- 
 dience ; 
 His perfection is limited by right, and cannot trespass into wrong, 
 Because He hath established Himself as the fountain of only good, 
 And in thus much is bounded, that the evil hath He left unto 
 
 another, 
 And that dark other hath usurped the evil which Omnipotence 
 
 laid down.
 
 OF SUBJECTION 27 
 
 Unto God there exist impossibilities : for the True One cannot 
 lie, 
 
 Nor the Wise One wander from the track which He hath deter- 
 mined for Himself: 
 
 For his will was purposed from eternity, strong in the love of 
 order ; 
 
 And that will altereth not, as the law of the Medes and Persians. 
 
 God is the origin of order, and the first exemplar of his precept ; 
 
 For there is subordination of his Essence, self-guided unto holi- 
 ness ; 
 
 And there is subordination of his Persons, in due procession of 
 dignity ; 
 
 For the Son, as a son, is subject ; and to him doth the Spirit 
 minister : 
 
 But these things be mysteries to man, he cannot reach nor fathom 
 them, 
 
 And ever must he speak in paradox, when labouring to expound 
 his God ; 
 
 For, behold, God is alone, mighty in unshackled freedom ; 
 
 And with those wondrous Persons abideth eternal equality. 
 
 So then, start ye from the fountain, and follow the river of exist- 
 ence ; 
 
 For its current is bounded throughout by the banks of just subor- 
 dination : 
 
 Thrones, and dominions, and powers, Archangels, Cherubim, and 
 Seraphim, 
 
 Angels, and flaming ministers, and breathing chariots and harps. 
 
 Foi there are degrees in heaven, and varied capabilities of bliss, 
 
 And steps in the ladder of Intelligence, and ranks in approaches to 
 Perfection : 
 
 Doubtless, reverence is given, as their due, to the masters in 
 wisdom ; 
 
 Doubtless, there are who serve ; or a throne would have small 
 glory. 
 
 Regard now the universe of matter, the substance of visible 
 creation. 
 
 Which of old with well-observing truth, the Greek hath sumamed 
 Order : 
 
 Where is there an atom out of place? or a particle that yieldeth 
 not obedience? 
 
 ^
 
 4- 
 
 2S OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 Where is there a fragment that is free ? or one thing the equal of 
 
 another ? — 
 The chain is unbroken down to man, and beyond him the link? 
 
 are perfect : 
 But he standeth solitary sin, a marvel of permitted chaos. 
 
 And shall this seeming error in the scale of due subordination 
 
 Be a spot of desert unreclaimed, in the midst of the vineyard of 
 
 the Lord ? 
 Shall his presumptuous pride snap the safe tether of connexion, 
 And his blind selfish folly refuse the burden of maintenance ? 
 O man, thou art a creature ; boast not thyself above the law : 
 Think not of thyself as free : thou art bound in the trammels of 
 
 dependence. 
 What is the sum of thy duty, but obedience to righteous rule, 
 To the great commanding oracle, uttered by delegated organs ? 
 Thou canst not render homage to abstract Omnipresent Power, 
 Save through the concrete symbol of visible ordained authority. 
 Those who obey not man, are oftenest found rebels against God ; 
 And seldom is the delegate so bold, as to order what he knoweth 
 
 to be wrong. 
 Yet mark me, proud gainsayer ! I say not, obey unto sin. 
 But, where the Principal is silent, take heed thou despise not the 
 
 Deputy ; 
 And He that loveth order, will bless thee for thy faith, 
 If thou recognize his sanction in the powers that fashion human 
 
 laws. 
 
 Thou, the vicegerent of the Lord, his high anointed image. 
 Towards whom a good man's loyalty floweth from the heart of his 
 
 religion. 
 Thou, whose deep responsibilities are fathomed by a nation's 
 
 prayers. 
 Whom wise men fear for while they love, and envy thee nothing 
 
 but thy virtues, 
 From thy dizzy pinnacle of greatness, remember thou also art a 
 
 subject, 
 And the throne of thine earthly glory is itself but the footstool of 
 
 thy God. 
 The homage thy kingdoms yield thee, regard thou as yielded unto 
 Him ;
 
 OF SUBJECTION. 29 
 
 And while girt with all the majesty of state, consider thee the 
 
 Lord's chief servant ; 
 So shalt thou prosper, and be strong, grafted on the strength of 
 
 Another ; 
 So shall thy virgin heart be happy, in being humble. 
 And thou shalt flourish as an oak, the monarch of thine island 
 
 forests, 
 Whose deep-dug roots are twisted around the stout ribs of the 
 
 globe. 
 That mocketh at the fury of the storm, and rejoiceth in summer 
 
 sunshine, 
 Glad in the smiles of heaven, and great in the stability of earth. 
 
 A ruler hath not power for himself, neither is his pomp for his 
 
 pride ; 
 But beneath the ermine of his office should he wear the rough hair- 
 cloth of humility. 
 Nevertheless, every way obey him, so thou break not a higher 
 
 commandment ; 
 For Nero was an evil king, yet Paul prescribeth subjection. 
 If the rulers of a nation be holy, the Lord hath blessed th.it 
 
 nation ; 
 If they be lewd and impious, chastisement hath come upon that 
 
 people : 
 For the bitterest scourge of a land is ungodliness in them that 
 
 govern it, 
 And the guilt of the sons of Josiah drove Israel weeping into 
 
 Babylon. 
 Yet be thou resolute against them, if they change the mandates of 
 
 thy God, 
 If they touch the ark of his covenant, wherein all his mercies are 
 
 enshrined : 
 Be resolute, but not rebellious ; lest ^hou be of the company of 
 
 Korah : 
 Set thy face against them as a flint : but be not numbered with 
 
 Abiram. 
 Daniel nobly disobeyed ; but not from a spirit of sedition , 
 And Azarias shouted from the furnace, — I will not bow down, O 
 
 KING. 
 
 If truth must be sacrificed to unity' then faithfulness were folly ; 
 If man must be obeyed before God, the martyrs have bled in vain : 
 
 ■^
 
 4*- 
 
 *• 
 
 3o OF SUBJECTICIJ. 
 
 Yet none of that blessed army reviled the ruler?; of the lanu, 
 They were loud and bold against the sin, but bent before the 
 
 ensign of authority. 
 H'onesty, scorning compromise, walketh most suitably with Re- 
 verence ; 
 Otherwise righteous daring may show but as obstinate rebellion : 
 Therefore, suffer not thy censure to lack the savour of courtesy. 
 And remember, the mortal sinneth, but the staff of his power is 
 ftam God. 
 
 Man, thou hast a social spirit, and art deeply indebted to thy kind : 
 Therefore cl^'m not all thy rights ; but yield, for thine own 
 
 advantagv. 
 Society is a chain of obligations, and its links must support each 
 
 other ; 
 The branch can not but wither, that is cut from the parent vine. 
 Wouldst thou be a dweller in the woods, and cast away the cords 
 
 that bind thee, 
 Seeking, in thy bitterness or pride, to be exiled from thy fellows? 
 Behold, the beasts shall hunt thee, weak, naked, houseless outcast, 
 Disease and Death shall track thee out, as bloodhounds in the 
 
 wilderness : 
 Better to be lowliest of thy kind, in the hated company of men, 
 Than to live a solitary wretch, dreading and wanting all things ; 
 Better to be chained to thy labour, in the dusky thoroughfares of 
 
 life, 
 Than to reign monarch of Sloth, in lonesome savage freedom. 
 
 Whence then cometh the doctrine, that all should be equal and 
 free ? — 
 
 It is the lie that crowded hell, when Seraphs flung away subjec- 
 tion. 
 
 No man is his neighbour's equal, for no two minds are similar, 
 
 And accidents, alike with qualities, have every shade but same- 
 ness : 
 
 The lightest atom of difference slmll destroy the nice balance of 
 equality. 
 
 And all things from without and from within, make one man to 
 differ from another. 
 
 We are equal and free ! was the watchword that spirited the 
 legions of satan ;
 
 OF SUBJECTION. 31 
 
 We are equal and free! is the double lie that cntrappcth to him 
 
 conscripts from earth : 
 The messengers of that dark despot will pander to thy license and 
 
 thy pride, 
 And draw thee from the crowd where thou art safe, to seize thee 
 
 in the solitary desert. 
 Woe unto him whose heart the syren song of Liberty hath 
 
 charmed : 
 Woe unto him whose mind is bewitched by her treacherous beauty ; 
 In mad zeal flingeth he away the fetters of duty and restraint, 
 And yieldeth up the holocaust of self to that fair Idol of the 
 
 Damned. 
 No man hath freedom in aught, save in that from which the 
 
 wicked would be hindered. 
 He is free toward God and good ; but to all else a bondman. 
 
 Thou art in a middle sphere, to render and receive honour ; 
 
 If thy king commandeth, obey; and stand not in the way with 
 
 rebels : 
 But if need be, lay thy hand upon thy sword, and fear not to 
 
 smite a traitor, 
 For the universe acquitteth thee with honour, fighting in defence 
 
 of thy king. 
 If a thief break thy dwelling, and thou take him, it were sin in 
 
 thee to let him go ; 
 Yea, though he pleadeth to thy mercy, thou canst not spare him 
 
 and be blameless : 
 For his guilt is not only against thee, it is not thy monies or thy 
 
 merchandize. 
 But he hath done damage to the Law, which duty constraineth 
 
 thee to sanction. 
 Feast not thine appetite of vengeance, remembering thou also art 
 
 a man, 
 But weep for the sad compulsion, in which the chain of I'rovidence 
 
 hath bound thee : 
 Mercy is not thine to give ; wilt thou steal another's privilege ? 
 Or send abroad, among thy neighbours, a felon whom impunity 
 
 hath hardened ? 
 Remember the Roman father, strong in his stem integrity. 
 And let not thy slothful self-indulgence make thee a conniver at 
 
 the crime.
 
 ^- 
 
 32 OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 Also, if the knife of the murderer be raised against thee or thine, 
 And through good providence and courage, thou slay him that 
 
 would have slain thee, 
 Thou losest not a tittle of thy rectitude, having executed sudden 
 
 justice ; 
 Still mayst thou walk among the blessed, though thy hands be 
 
 red with blood. 
 For thyself, thou art neither worse nor better; but thy fellows 
 
 should count thee their creditor : 
 Thou hast manfully protected the right, and the right is stronger 
 
 for thy deed. 
 Also, in the rescuing of innocence, fear not to smite the ravisher ; 
 What though he die at thy hand ? for a good name is better than 
 
 the life ; 
 And if rhineas had everlasting praise in the matter of Salu's 
 
 son, 
 With how much greater honour standeth such a rescuer acquitted? 
 Uphold the laws of thy country, and fear not to fight in their de- 
 fence ; 
 But first be convinced in thy mind ; for herein the doubter sinneth. 
 Above all things, look thou well around, if indeed stern duty 
 
 forceth thee 
 To draw the sword of justice, and stain it with the slaughter of 
 
 thy fellows. 
 
 She, that lieth in thy bosom, the tender wife of thy affections. 
 Must obey thee, and be subject, that evil drop not on thy dwelling. 
 The child that is used to constraint, feareth not more than he 
 
 loveth ; 
 But give thy son his Avay, he will hate thee and scorn thee together. 
 The master of a well-ordered home knoweth to be kind to his 
 
 servants ; 
 Yet he exacteth reverence, and each one feareth at his post. 
 There is nothing on earth so lowly, but duty giveth it importance ; 
 No station so degrading, but it is ennobled by obedience : 
 Yea, break stones upon the highway, acknowledging the Lord in 
 
 thy lot, 
 Happy shalt thou be, and honourable, more than many cliildren of 
 
 the mighty. 
 Thou that despisest t he outward forms, beware thou lose not the 
 
 inward spirit ;
 
 OF SUBJECTION. 33 
 
 For they are as words unto ideas, as symbols to things unseen. 
 Keep then the form that is good ; retain, and do reverence to 
 
 example; 
 And in all things observe subordination, for that is the whole duty 
 
 of man. 
 
 A horse knoweth his rider, be he confident or timid, 
 And the fierce spirit of Bucephalus stoopeth unto none but Alex- 
 ander; 
 The tigress, roused in the jungle by the prying spaniels of the fowler. 
 Will quail at the eye of man, so he assert his dignity ; 
 Nay, the very ships, those giant swans breasting the mighty waters, 
 Roll in the trough, or break the wave, to the pilot's fear or 
 
 courage : 
 How much more shall man, discerning the Fountain of authority, 
 Bow to superior commands, and make his own obeyed. 
 And yet, in travelling the world, hast thou not often known 
 A gallant host led on to ruin by a feeble Xerxes ? 
 Hast thou not often seen the wanton luxury of indolence 
 Sullying with its sleepy mist the tarnished crown of headship ? 
 Alas ! for a thousand fathers, whose indulgent sloth 
 Hath emptied the vial of confusion over a thousand homes : 
 Alas ! for the palaces and hovels, that might have been nurseries 
 
 for heaven, 
 By hot intestine broils blighted into schools for hell : 
 None knoweth his place, yet all refuse to serve, 
 None weareth the crown, yet all usurp the sceptre ; 
 And perchance some fiercer spirit, of natural nobility of mind, 
 That needed but the kindness of constraint to have grown up great 
 
 and good, 
 Now — the rich harvest of his heart choked by unweeded tares, — 
 All bold to dare and do, unchecked by wholesome fear, 
 A scoffer about bigotry and priestcraft, a rebel against government 
 
 and God, 
 And standard-bearer of the turbulent, leading on the sons of Belial, 
 Such an one is king of that small state, head tyrant of the thirty, 
 Brandishing the torch of discord in his village-home : 
 And the timid Eli of the house, yon humble parish-priest, 
 Liveth in shame and sorrow, fearing his own handywork •. 
 The mother, heartstricken years agone, hath dropped into an early 
 grave : 
 
 
 .Vf 
 
 *
 
 JtL 
 
 34 OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 The silent sisters long to leave a home they cannot love ; 
 The brothers, casting off restraint, follow their wayward wills ; 
 And the chance-guest, early departing, blesseth his kind stars, 
 That on his humbler home hath brooded no domestic curse ! 
 Yet is that curse the fruit ; wouldest thou the root of the evil ? 
 A kindness — most unkind, that hath always spared the rod ; 
 A weak and numbing indecision in the mind that should be master ; 
 A foolish love, pregnant of hate, that never frowned on sin ; 
 A moral cowardice of heart, that never dared command. 
 
 A kingdom is a nest of families, and a famiiy a small kingdom ; 
 And the government of whole or part differeth in nothing but 
 
 extent. 
 The house, where the master ruleth, is strong in united subjection, 
 And the only commandment with promise, being honoured, is a 
 
 blessing to that house : 
 But and if he yieldeth up the reins, it is weak in discordant 
 
 anarchy. 
 And the bonds of love and union melt away, as ropes of sand. 
 The realm, that is ruled with vigour, lacketh neither peace nor 
 
 glory, 
 It dreadeth not foes from without, nor the sons of riot from witiiin : 
 But the meanness of temporizing fear robbeth a kingdom of its 
 
 honour. 
 And the weakness of indulgent sloth ravageth its bowels with dis- 
 cord. 
 The best of human governments is the patriarchal rule ; 
 The authorized supremacy of one, the prescriptive subjection of 
 
 many : 
 Therefore, the children of the east have thriven from age to age. 
 Obeying, even as a god, the royal father of Cathay : 
 Therefore, to this our day, the Rechabite wanteth not a mr.n, 
 But they stand before the Lord, forsaking not the mandate of their 
 
 sire : 
 Therefore shall Magog among nations arise from his northern lair, 
 And rend, in the fury of his power, the insurgent world beneatli 
 
 him : 
 For the thunderbolt of concentrated strength can be hurled by the 
 
 will of one, 
 While the dissipated forces of many are harmless as summer 
 
 lifihtninc;. 
 
 ■IP-
 
 OF REST. 
 
 OF REST. 
 In tlie silent watches of the night, calm night that breedeth 
 
 thoughts, 
 When the task-weary mind disporteth in the careless play-hours of 
 
 sleep, 
 I dreamed ; and behold, a valley, green and sunny and well 
 
 watered. 
 And thousands moving across it, thousands and tens of thousands : 
 And though many seemed faint and toil-worn, and stumbled often, 
 
 and fell, 
 Yet moved they on unresting, as the ever-flowing cataract. 
 Then I noted adders in the grass, and pitfalls under the flowers, 
 And chasms yawned among the hills, and the ground was cracked 
 
 and slippery : 
 But Hope and her brother Fear suffered not a foot to linger ; 
 Bright phantoms of false joys beckoned alluringly forward. 
 While yelling grisly shapes of dread came hunting on behind : 
 And ceaselessly, like Lapland swarms, that miserable crowd sped 
 
 along 
 To the mist-involved banks of a dark and sullen river. 
 There saw I, midway in the water, standing a giant fisher, 
 And he held many lines in his hand, and they called him Iron 
 
 Destiny: 
 So I tracked those subtle chains, and each held one among the 
 
 multitude : 
 Then I understood what hindered, that they rested not in their path : 
 For the fisher had sport in his fishing, and drew in his lines con- 
 tinually, 
 And the new-bom babe, and the aged man, were dragged into that 
 
 dark river : 
 And he pulled all those myriads along, and none might rest by the 
 
 way, 
 Till many, for sheer weariness, were eager to plunge into the 
 
 drowning stream. 
 
 So I knew that valley was Life, and it sloped to the waters of 
 
 Death. 
 But far on the thither side spread out a calm and silent shore. 
 Where all was tranquil as a sieep, and the crowded strand was 
 
 quiei :
 
 y 
 
 6 OF J? EST. 
 
 ^ 
 
 And I saw there many I had known, but tlieir eyes glared chill- 
 ingly upon me, 
 
 As set in deepest slumber ; and they pressed their fingers to their 
 lips. 
 
 Then I knew that shore was the dwelling of Rest, where spirits 
 held their Sabbath, 
 
 And it seemed they would have told me mucli, but they might not 
 break that silence ; 
 
 For the law of their being was mystery : they glided on, hushing 
 as they went. 
 
 Yet further, under the sun, at the roots of purple mountains, 
 
 I noted a blaze of glory, as the night-fires on northern skies ; 
 
 And I heard the hum of joy, as it were a sea of melody ; 
 
 And far as the eye could reach, were millions of happy creatures 
 
 Basking in the golden light ; and I knew that land was Heaven. 
 
 Then the hill whereon I stood split asunder, and a crater yawned 
 at my feet, 
 
 Black and deep and dreadful, fenced round with ragged rocks ; 
 
 Dimly was the darkness lit up by spires of distant flame : 
 
 And I saw below a moving mass of life, like reptiles bred in cor- 
 ruption, 
 
 Where all was terrible unrest, shrieks and groans and thunder. 
 
 So I woke, and I thought upon my dream ; for it seemed of 
 
 wisdom's ministration. 
 What man is he that findeth rest, though he hunt for it year after 
 
 year ? 
 As a child he had not yet been wearied, and rnred not then to 
 
 court it ; 
 As a youth he loved not to be quiet, for excitement spurred him 
 
 into strife ; 
 As a man he tracketh rest in vain, toiling painfully to catch it, 
 But still is he pulled from the pursuit, by the strong compulsion of 
 
 his fate: 
 So he hopeth to have peace in old age, as he cannot rest in man- 
 hood, 
 But troubles thicken with his years, till Death hath dodged him to 
 
 the grave. 
 There remaineth a rest fo*- the snirit on the shadowy side of life ; 
 But unto this world's pilgrim no rest for the sole of his foot : 
 F.ver, from stage to stage, he travelleth wearily forward,
 
 OF HUMILITY. 37 
 
 And thougli he pluck fluw cis by llic w ay, he may not sleep among 
 the flowers. 
 
 Mind is the perpetual motion ; for it is a running stream 
 
 From an unfathomable source, the depth of the divine Intelli- 
 gence: 
 
 And though it be stopped in its flowing, yet hath it a current 
 within, 
 
 The surface may sleep unrufiled, but underneath are whirlpools of 
 contention. 
 
 Seekest thou rest, O mortal? — seek it no more on earth, 
 
 For destiny will not cease from dragging thee through the rough 
 wilderness of life ; 
 
 Seekest thou rest, O immortal ? — hope not to find it in Heaven, 
 
 For sloth yieldeth not happiness : -the bliss of a spirit is action. 
 
 Rest dwelleth only on an island in the midst of the ocean of 
 existence. 
 
 Where the world-weary soul for a while may fold its tired wings. 
 
 Until, after short sufficient slumber, it is quickened unto deathless 
 energy. 
 
 And speedeth in eagle flight to the Sun of unapproachable per- 
 fection. 
 
 OF HUMILITY. 
 
 Vice is grown aweary of her gawds, and donneth russet garments, 
 
 Loving for change to walk as a nun, beneath a modest veil : 
 
 For Pride hath noted how all admire the fairness of Humility, 
 
 And to clutch the praise he coveteth, is content to be drest in hair- 
 cloth ; 
 
 And wily Lust tempteth the young heart, that is proof against the 
 bravery of harlots. 
 
 With timid tears and retiring looks of an artful seeming maid ; 
 
 And indolent Apathy, sleepily ashamed of his dull lack-lustre 
 face. 
 
 Is glad of the livery of meekness, that charitable cloak and cowl ; 
 
 And Hatred hideth his demon frown beneath a gentle mask ; 
 
 And Slander, snake like, creepeth in the dust, thinking to escape 
 recrimination. 
 
 r.ut the world hath gained somewhat from its years, and is quick 
 to penetrate disguises,
 
 #■ 
 
 38 OF HUMILITY. 
 
 Neither in all these is it easily deceived, but rightly divideth the 
 true from the falsp 
 
 Vet there is a meanness of spirit, that is fair in the eyes of most men, 
 Yea, and seemeth fair unto itself, loving to be thought Humility. 
 Its choler is not roused by insolence, neither do injuries disturb it : 
 Honest indignation is strange unto its breast, and just reproof unto 
 
 its lip. 
 It shrinketh, looking fearfully on men, fawning at the feet of the 
 
 great ; 
 The breath of calumny is sweet unto its ear, and it courteth the 
 
 rod of persecution. 
 But what! art thou not a man, deputed chief of the creation? 
 Art thou not a soldier of the right, militant for God and good? 
 Shall virtue and truth be degraded, because thou art too base to 
 
 uphold them? 
 Or Goliath be bolder in blaspheming for want of a David in the 
 
 camp? 
 I say not, avenge injuries ; for the ministry of vengeance is not 
 
 thine : 
 But wherefore rebuke not a liar? wherefore do dishonour to thy- 
 self? 
 Wherefore let the evil triumph, when the just and the right are on 
 
 thy side? 
 Such Humility is abject, it lacketh the life of sensibility. 
 And that resignation is but mock, where the burden is not felt : 
 Suspect thyself and thy meekness : thou art mean and indifferent 
 
 to sin ; 
 And the heart that should grieve and forgive, is case-hardened and 
 
 forgetteth. 
 
 Humility mainly becometh the converse of man with his Maker, 
 But oftentimes it seemeth out of place in the intercourse of man 
 
 with man; 
 Yea, it is the cringer to his equal, that is chiefly seen bold to his 
 
 God, 
 While the martyr, whom a world cannot brow-beat, is humble as 
 
 a child before Him. 
 Render unto all men their due, but remember thou also art a man, 
 And cheat not thyself of the reverence which is owing to thy 
 
 reasonable being. 
 
 ^
 
 OF HUMILITY. 39 
 
 Be courteous, and listen, and learn : but teach and answer if thou 
 canst : 
 
 Serve thee of thy neighbour's wisdom, but be not enslaved as to a 
 master. 
 
 Where thou perceivest knowledge, bend the ear of attention and 
 respect ; 
 
 But yield not further to the teaching, than as thy mind is war- 
 ranted by reasons. 
 
 Better is an obstinate disputant, that yieldeth inch by inch, 
 
 Tlian the shallow traitor to himself, who surrendereth to lialf an 
 argument. 
 
 Modesty winneth good I'eport, but scorn cometh close upon ser- 
 vility; 
 
 Therefore, use meekness with discretion, casting not pearls before 
 swine. 
 
 For a fool will tread upon thy neck, if he seeth thee lying in the 
 dust ; 
 
 And there be companies and seasons where resolute bearing is but 
 duty. 
 
 If a good man discloseth his secret failings unto the view of the 
 profane. 
 
 What doeth he but harm unto his brother, confirming him in his 
 sin? 
 
 There is a concealment that is right, and an open-mouthed humi- 
 lity that erreth ; 
 
 There is a candour near akin to folly, and a meekness looking like 
 shame. 
 
 Masculine sentiments, vigorously holden, well become a man ; 
 
 But a weak mind hath a timorous grasp, and mistaketh it for ten- 
 derness of conscience. 
 
 Many are despised for their folly, who put it to the account of 
 their religion. 
 
 And because men treat them with contempt, they look to their 
 God for glory; 
 
 But contempt shall still be their reward, who betrayed their 
 Master unto ridicule. 
 
 Reflecting on Him in themselves, meanness and ignorance aud 
 cowardice. 
 
 A Christian hath a royal spirit, and need not be asnamed but unto 
 One: 
 
 -^
 
 
 h— ^ "^ 
 
 40 OF HUMILITY. 
 
 Among just men walketh he softly, but the voild should see him 
 
 as a champion : 
 His humbleness is far unlike the shame that covereth the profligate 
 
 and weak, 
 When the sober reproof of virtue hath touched tlieir tingling ears ; 
 It is born of love and wisdom, and is worthy of all honour, 
 And the sweet persuasion of its smile changeth contempt into 
 
 reverence. 
 
 A man of a haughty spirit is daily adding to his enemies. 
 
 He standeth as the Arab in the desert, and the hands of all men 
 
 are against him : 
 A man of a base mind daily sublracteth from his friends ; 
 For he holdeth himself so cheaply, that others learn to despise 
 
 him : 
 But where the meekness of self-knowledge veileth the front of self- 
 respect. 
 There look thou for the man, whom none can know but they will 
 
 honour. 
 Humility is the softening shadow before the stature of Excellence, 
 And lieth lowly on the ground, beloved and lovely as the violet : 
 Humility is the fair-haired maid, that calleth Worth her brother, 
 The gentle silent nurse, that fostereth infant virtues: 
 Humility bringeth no excuse ; she is welcome to God and man : 
 Her countenance is needful unto all, who would prosper in either 
 
 world : 
 And the mild light of her sweet face is mirrored in the eyes of her 
 
 companions, 
 And straightway stand they accepted, children of penitence and 
 
 love. 
 As when the blind man is nip'h unto a rose, its sweetness is the 
 
 herald of its beauty, 
 So when thou savourest humility, be sure thou art nigh unto merit. 
 A gift rejoiceth the covetous, and praise fatteneth the vain, 
 And the pride of man delighteth in the humble bearing of his 
 
 fellow ; 
 But to the tender benevolence of the unthanked Almoner of good, 
 Humility is queen among the graces, lor sne givetli Him occasion 
 
 to bestow.
 
 OF PRIDE. 41 
 
 O F P R I D E. 
 Deep is the sea, and deep is hell, but Pride mineth deeper; 
 It is coiled as a poisonous worm about the foundations of the soul. 
 If thou expose it in thy motives, and track it in thy springs of 
 
 thought, 
 Complacent in its own detection, it will seem indignant virtue; 
 Smoothly will it gratulate thy skill, O subtle anatomist of self. 
 And spurn at its very being, while it nestleth the deeper in thy 
 
 bosom. 
 Pride is a double traitor, and betrayeth itself to entrap thee, 
 Making thee vain of thy self-knowledge ; proud of thy discoveries 
 
 of pride. 
 Fruitlessly thou strainest for humility, by darkly diving into self; 
 Rather look away from innate evil, and gaze upon extraneous good : 
 For in sounding the deep things of the heart, thou shalt learn to be 
 
 vain of its capacities. 
 But in viewing the heights above thee, thou shalt be tauglit thy 
 
 littleness : 
 Could an emmet pry into itself, it might marvel at its own 
 
 anatomy. 
 But let it look on eagles, to discern how mean a thing it is. 
 And all things hang upon comparison ; to the greater, great is 
 
 small : 
 Neither is there anything so vile, but somewhat yet is viler : 
 On all sides is there an infinity: the culprit at the gallows hath his 
 
 worse, 
 And the virgin martyr at the stake need not look far for a better. 
 Tlierefore see thou that thine aim reacheth unto higher than 
 
 thyself : 
 Beware that the standard of thy soul wave from the loftiest battle- 
 ment : 
 For pride is a pestilent meteor, flitting on the marshes of corruption, 
 That will lure thee forward to thy death, if thou seek to track it to 
 
 its source: 
 Pride is a gloomy bow, arching the infernal firmament. 
 That will lead thee on, if thou wilt hunt it, even to tlie dwelling of 
 
 despair. 
 Deep calleth unto deep, and mountain overtoppeth mountain, 
 And still shalt thou fathom to no end the depth and the height of 
 
 pride :
 
 4- 
 
 42 OF EXPERIENCE. 
 
 For it is the vast ambition of the soul, warped to an idol object, 
 And nothing but a Deity in Self can quench its insatiable thirst. 
 
 Be aware of the smiling enemy, that openly sheatheth his weapon, 
 But mingleth poison in secret with the sacred salt of hospitality : 
 For pride will lie dormant in thy heart, to snatch its secret oppor- 
 tunity. 
 Watching, as a lion-ant, in the bottom of its toils. 
 Stay not to parley with thy foe, for his tongue is more potent than 
 
 his arm, 
 But be wiser, figliting against pride in the simple panoply of 
 
 prayer. 
 As one also of the poets hath said, let not the Proteus escape 
 
 thee ; 
 For he will blaze forth as fire, and quench himself in likeness of 
 
 water ; 
 He will fright thee as a roaring beast, or charm thee as a subtle 
 
 reptile. 
 Mark, amid all his transformations, the complicate deceitfulness of 
 
 pride. 
 And the more he striveth to elude thee, bind him the closer in thy 
 
 toils. 
 Prayer is the net that snareth him ; prayer is the fetter that holdeth 
 
 him: 
 Thou canst not nourish pride, while waiting as an almsman on thy 
 
 God, — 
 Waiting in sincerity and trust, or pride shall meet thee even there ; 
 Yea, from the palaces of Heaven, hath pride cast down his 
 
 millions. 
 Root up the mandrake from thy heart, though it cost thee blood 
 
 and groans. 
 Or the cherished garden of thy graces will fade and perish utterly. 
 
 OF EXPERIENCE. 
 
 I KNEW that age was enriched with the hard-earned wages of 
 knowledge, 
 
 A.nd I saw that hoary wisdom was bred in the school of disap- 
 pointment: 
 
 '^
 
 OF EXPERIENCE. 43 
 
 1 noted that the wisest of youth, though provident and cautious of 
 
 evil, 
 Yet sailed along unsteadily, as lacking some ballast of the mind : 
 And the cause seemed to lie in this, that while they considered 
 
 around them, 
 And warded off all dangers from without, they forgat their own 
 
 weakness within. 
 So steer they in self-confidence, until, from the multitude of perils, 
 They begin to be wary of themselves, and learn the first lesson of 
 
 Experience. 
 I knew that in the morning of life, before its wearisome journey, 
 The youthful soul doth expand, in the simple luxury of being ; 
 It hath not contracted its wishes, nor set a limit to its. hopes ; 
 The wing of fancy is unclipt, and sin hath not seared the feelings : 
 Each feature is stamped with immortality, for all its desires are 
 
 infinite, 
 And it seeketh an ocean of happiness, to fill the deep hollow 
 
 within. 
 But the old and the grave look on, pitying that generous youth, 
 For they also have tasted long ago the bitterness of hope destroyed 
 They pity him, and are sad, remembering the days that are past. 
 But they know he must taste for himself, or he will not give ear to 
 
 their wisdom. 
 For Experience hath another lesson, which a man will do well if 
 
 he learn. 
 By checking the flight of expectation, to cheat disappointment of 
 
 its pain. 
 
 Experience teacheth many things, and all men are his scholars : 
 Yet is he a strange tutor, unteaching that which he hath taught. 
 Youth is confident, manhood wary, and old age confident again: 
 Youth is kind, manhood cold, and age returneth unto kindness. 
 For youth suspecteth nought, till manhood, bitterly learned, 
 Mistrusteth all, overleaping the mark ; and age correcteth his 
 
 excess. 
 Suspicion is the scaffold unto faith, a temporary needful eyesore. 
 By which the strong man's dwelling is slowly builded up behind ; 
 But soon as the top-stone hath been set to the well-proved goodly 
 
 edifice, 
 The scaffold is torn down, and well-timed trust taketh its long 
 
 leave of suspicion. 
 
 -^ 
 
 +
 
 44 OF ESriMATlXG CHARACTER. 
 
 A thousand volumes in a thousand tongues enshrine the lessons of 
 
 Experience, 
 Yet a man shall read them all, and go forth none the wiser : 
 For self-love lendeth him a glass, to colour all he conneth, 
 Lest in the features of another he find his own complexion. 
 And we secretly judge of ourselves as differing greatly from all 
 
 men, 
 And love to challenge causes to show how we can master their 
 
 effects : 
 Pride is pampered in expecting that we need not fear a common 
 
 fate, 
 Or wrong-headed prejudice exulteth, in combating old experience; 
 Or perchance caprice and discontent are the spurs that goad us 
 
 into danger, , 
 
 Careless, and half in hope to find there an enemy to joust with. 
 Private experience is an unsafe teacher, for we rarely learn both 
 
 sides. 
 And from the gilt surface reckon not on steel beneath : 
 The torrid sons of Guinea think scorn of icy seas. 
 And the frostbitten Greenlander disbelieveth suns too hot. 
 But thou, student of Wisdom, feed on the marrow of the matter ; 
 If thou wilt suspect, let it be thyself; if thou wilt expect, let it not 
 
 be gladness. 
 
 #• 
 
 OF ESTIMATING CHARACTER. 
 
 Rashly, nor ofttimes truly, doth man pass judgment on his 
 brother ; 
 
 For he seeth not the springs of the heart, nor heareth the reasons 
 of the mind. 
 
 And the world is not wiser than of old, when justice was meted by 
 the sword, 
 
 When the spear avenged the wrong, and the lot decided the right. 
 
 When the -footsteps of blinded innocence were tracked by burning 
 ploughshares. 
 
 And the still condemning water delivered up the wizard to the 
 stake : 
 
 For we wait, like the sage of Salamis, to see what the end will be. 
 
 Fixing the right or the wrong, by the issues of failure or success. 
 
 Judge not of things by their events; neither of character by pro- 
 vidence ;
 
 OF ESTIMA TING CHAR A C TER. 45 
 
 And count not a man more evil, because lie Is more unfortunate : 
 For the blessings of a better covenant lie not in the sunshine of 
 
 prosperity, 
 But pain and chastisement the rather show the wise Father's love. 
 
 Jjehold that daughter of the world : she is full of gaiety and glad- 
 ness ; 
 Tlie diadem of rank is on her brow, uncounted wealth is in her 
 
 coffers : 
 She tricketh out her beauty like Jezebel, and is welcome in the 
 
 courts of kings ; . 
 She is queen of the fools of fashion, and ruleth the revels of 
 
 luxury : 
 And though she sitteth not as Tamar, nor standcth in the ways as 
 
 Rahab, 
 Yet in the secret of her chamber, she shrinketh not from dalliance 
 
 and guilt. 
 She careth not if there be a God, or a soul, or a time of re- 
 tribution. 
 Pleasure is the idol of her heart : she thirsteth for no purer 
 
 heaven. 
 And she laugheth with light good humour, and all men praise her 
 
 gentleness ; 
 They are glad in her lovely smile, and the river of her bounty 
 
 filleth them. 
 So she prospered in the world : the worship and desire of 
 
 thousands ; 
 And she died even as she had lived, careless and courteous and 
 
 liberal. 
 The grave swallowed up her pomp, the marble proclaimed her 
 
 virtues. 
 For men esteemed her excellent, and charities sounded forth her 
 
 praise ; 
 But elsewhere far other judgment setteth her — with infidels and 
 
 harlots ! 
 .She abused the trust of her splendour : and the wages of her sin 
 
 shall be hereafter. 
 
 Look again on this fair girl, the orphan of a village pastor 
 Who is dead, and hath left her his all. — his blessing and a name 
 unstained.
 
 — ^ 
 
 46 OF ESTIMATING CHARACTER. 
 
 And friends, with busy zeal, that their purses be not taxed, 
 
 Place the sad mourner in a home, poor substitute for that she hath 
 lost. 
 
 A stranger among strange faces she drinketh the wormwood of 
 dependence ; 
 
 She is marked as a child of want ; and the world hateth poverty 
 
 Prayer is not heard in that house ; the day she hath loved to 
 hallow 
 
 Is noted but by deeper dissipation, the riot of luxury and gaming : 
 
 And wantonness is in her master's eye, and she hath no where to 
 flee to ; 
 
 She is cared for by none upon earth, and her God seemeth to for- 
 sake her ; 
 
 Then cometh, in fair show, the promise and the feint of affec- 
 tion, 
 
 And her heart, long unused to kindness, remembereth her father, 
 and loveth. 
 
 And the villain hath wronged her trust, and mocked, and flung 
 her from him. 
 
 And men point at her and laugh : and women hate her as an out- 
 cast : 
 
 Rut elsewhere far other judgment seateth her — among the mar- 
 tyrs ! 
 
 And the Lord, who seemed to forsake, giveth double glory to the 
 fallen. 
 
 Once more, in the matter of wealth ; if thou throw thine all on a 
 
 chance, 
 Men will come around thee, and wait, and watch the turning of the 
 
 wheel : 
 And if, in the lottery of life, thou hast drawn a splendid prize, 
 What foresight hadst thou, and skill ! yea, what enterprize and 
 
 wisdom ! 
 But if it fall out against thee, and thou fail in thy perilous 
 
 endeavour, 
 Behold, the simple did sow, and hath reaped the right harvest of 
 
 his folly : 
 And the world will be gladly excused, nor will reach out a finger 
 
 to help ; 
 For why should this speculative dullard be a whirlpool to all 
 
 around him ? 
 
 N- 
 
 A
 
 OF ESTIMATING CHARACTER. An 
 
 Go lo, let him sink by himself: we knew what the end of it 
 
 would be :— 
 For tlie man hath missed his mark, raid his fellows look no 
 
 further. 
 
 Also, touching guilt and innocence : a rnan shall walk in his up- 
 rightness 
 Year after year without reproach, in charity and honesty with all : 
 But in one evil hour the enemy shall come in like a flood ; 
 Shall track him, and tempt him, and hem him,— till he knoweth 
 
 not whither to fly. 
 Perchance his famishing little ones shall scream in his ears for 
 
 bread. 
 And, maddened by that fierce cry, he rusheth as a thief upon the 
 
 world ; 
 The world that hath left him to starve, itself wallowing in 
 
 plenty, — 
 The world, that denieth him his rights,— he daringly robbeth it of 
 
 them. 
 I say not, sucli an one is innocent ; but, small is the measure of 
 
 his guilt 
 To that of his wealthy neighbour, who would not help him at his 
 
 need ; 
 To that of the selfish epicure, who turned away with coldness from 
 
 his tale ; 
 To that of unsufTering thousands, who look with complacence on 
 
 his fall. 
 
 Or perchance the continual dropping of the venomed words of 
 
 spite, 
 Insult and injury and scorn, hath galled and pierced his heart ; 
 Yet, with all long-suffering and meekness, he forgiveth unto 
 
 seventy times seven : 
 Till, in some weaker moment, tempted beyond endurance, 
 lie striketh, more in anger than in hate ; and, alas ! for his heavy 
 
 chance, 
 He hath smitten unto instant death his spiteful life-long enemy ! 
 And none was by to see it ; and all men knew of their contentions : 
 Fierce voices shout for his blood, and rude hands hurry him to 
 
 judgment ; 
 Then man's verdict cometh. — Murderer, with forethought malice : 
 
 -^
 
 ^ 
 
 48 OF ESTIMATING CHARACTER. 
 
 And his name is a note of execration ; his gnilt is too black for 
 
 devils : 
 But to the Righteous Judge, seem.eth he the suffering victim ; 
 For his anger was not unlawful, but became him as a Christian 
 
 and a man ; 
 And though his guilt was grievous when he Ftruck that heavy 
 
 bitter blow, 
 Yet light is the sin of the smiter, and verily kicketh the beam. 
 To the weight of that man's wickedness, whose slow relentless 
 
 hatred 
 Met him at every turn, with patient continuance in evil. 
 Doubtless, eternal wrath shall be heaped upon that spiteful enemy. 
 
 It is vain, it is vain, saith the preacher ; there be none but the 
 
 righteous and the wicked, 
 Base rebels, and staunch allies, the true knight, and the traitor : 
 And he beareth strong witness among men, There is no neutral 
 
 ground, 
 The broad highway and narrow path map out the whole domain ; 
 Sit here among the saints, these holy chosen few, 
 Or grovel there a wretch condemned, to die among the million. 
 And verilv for ultimate results, there be but good and bad ; 
 Heaven hath no dusky twilight ; hell is not gladdened with a 
 
 dawn ; 
 Yet looking round among his fellows, who can pass righteous 
 
 judgment, 
 Such an one is holy and accepted, and such an one reprobate and 
 
 doomed ? 
 Tliere is so much of good among the worst, so much of evil in the 
 
 best, 
 Such seeming partialities in providence, so many things to lessen 
 
 and expand. 
 Yea, and with all man's boast, so little real freedom of his 
 
 will,— 
 That, to look a little lower than the surface, garb or dialect or 
 
 fashion, 
 Thou shalt feebly pronounce for a saint, and faintly condemn for a 
 
 sinner. 
 Over many a good heart and true, fluttercth the Great King's 
 
 pennant ; 
 By many an iron hand, the pirate's black banner is unfurled :
 
 OF ESTIMA TING CHA RA CTER. 49 
 
 Lut there be many more besides, in the yaclit and the trader and 
 
 the fishing-boat, 
 In the feathered war canoe, and the quick mysterious gondola : 
 And the army of that Great King hath no stated uniform ; 
 Of mingled characters and kinds goeth forth the countless host ; 
 There is the turbaned Damascene, with his tattooed Zealand 
 
 brother, 
 There the slim bather in the Ganges, with the sturdy Russian 
 
 boor, 
 The sluggish inmate of a Polar cave, with the fire-souled daughtei 
 
 of Brazil, 
 The embruted slave from Cuba, and the Briton of gentle birth. 
 For all are His inheritance, of all He taketh tithe : 
 And the church. His mercy's ark, hath some of every sort. 
 Who art thou, O man, that art fixing the limits of the fold ? 
 Wherefore settest thou stakes to spread the tent of heaven ? 
 Lay not the plummet to the line : religion hath no landmarks : 
 No human keenness can discern the subtle shades of faith : 
 In some it is as earliest dawn, the scarce diluted darkness; 
 In some as dubious twilight, cold and grey and gloomy : 
 In some the ebon east is streaked with flaming gold : 
 In some the dayspring from on high breaketh in all its praise. 
 And who hath determined the when, separating light from dark- 
 ness ? 
 W'ho shall pluck from earliest dawn the promise of the day ? 
 Leave that care to the Husbandman, lest thou garner tares ; 
 Help thou the shepherd in his seeking, but to separate be his ; 
 For I have often seen the noble erring spirit 
 Wrecked on the shoals of passion, and numbered of the lost ; 
 Often the generous heart, lit by unhallowed fire, 
 Counted a brand among the burning, and left uncared-for, in his 
 
 sin : 
 Yet I waited a little year, and the mercy thou hadst forgotten 
 Hath purged that noble spirit, washing it in waters of repentance ; 
 That glowing generous heart, having burnt out all its dross, 
 Is as a golden censer, ready for the aloes and cassia : 
 While thou, hard-visaged man, unlovely in thy strictness. 
 Who turned from him thy sympathies with self-complacent pride, 
 How art thou shamed by him ! his heart is a spring of love. 
 While the dry well of thine affections is choked with secret mam- 
 mon, 
 
 D 
 
 ■^
 
 •*^ 
 
 OF ESTIMATING CHARACTER. 
 
 Sometimes at a glance thou judgest well ; years could add little to 
 
 tliy knowledge : 
 When charity gloweth on the cheek, or malice is lowering in the 
 
 eye, 
 When honesty's open brow, or the weasel-face of cunning is before 
 
 thee, 
 Or the loose lip of wantonness, or dear bright forehead of reflec- 
 tion. 
 But often, by shrewd scrutiny, thou judgest to the good man's 
 
 harm : 
 For it may be his hour of trial, or he slumbereth at his post, 
 Or he hath slain his foe, but not yet levelled the stronghold, 
 Or barely recovered of the wounds, that fleshed him in his fray 
 
 with passion. 
 Also, of the worst, through prejudice, thou loosely shalt think 
 
 well : 
 For none is altogether evil, and thou mayest catch hira at his 
 
 prayers : 
 There may be one small prize, though all beside be blanks ; 
 A silver thread of goodness in the black sergecloth of crime. 
 
 There is to whom all things are easy : his mind, as a master-key 
 Can open, with intuitive address, the treasuries of art and science : 
 There is to whom all things are hard ; but industry giveth him a 
 
 crow-bar, 
 To force, with groaning labour, the stubborn lock of learning : 
 And often, when thou lookest on an eye, dim in native dulness. 
 Little shalt thou wot of the wealth diligence hath gathered to its 
 
 gaze; 
 Often, the brow that should be bright with the dormant fire of 
 
 genius, 
 Within its ample halls, hath ignorance the tenant. 
 Yet are not the sons of men cast as in moulds by the lot ? 
 The like in frame and feature have much alike in spirit ; 
 Such a shape hath such a soul, so that a deep discerner 
 From his make will read the man, and err not far in judgment : 
 Yea, and it holdeth in the converse, that growing similarity of 
 
 mind 
 Findeth or maketh for itself an apposite dwelling in the body : 
 Accident may modify, circumstance may bevil, externals seem to 
 
 change it,
 
 OF ESTIMATING CHARACTER. 51 
 
 Eut still the primitive crystal is latent in its many variations : 
 For the map of the face, and the picture of the eye, are traced by 
 
 the pen of passion ; 
 And the mind fashioneth a tabernacle suitable for itself. 
 A mean spirit boweth down the back, and the bowing fostereth 
 
 meanness ; 
 A resolute purpose knitteth the knees, and the firm tread nourish- 
 
 eth decision ; 
 Love looketh softly from the eye, and kindleth love by looking j 
 Hate furroweth the brow, and a man may frown till he hateth. 
 For mind and body, spirit and matter, have reciprocities of 
 
 power, 
 And each keepeth up the strife ; a man's works make or mar him. 
 
 There be deeper things than these, lying in the twilight of truth ; 
 But few can discern them aright, from surrounding dimness of 
 
 error. 
 For perchance, if thou knewest the whole, and largely witli 
 
 comprehensive mind 
 Couldst read the history of character, the chequered story of a ! 
 
 life, 
 And into the great account, which summeth a mortal's destiny, 
 Wert to add the forces from without, dragging him this way and 
 
 that, 
 And the secret qualities within, grafted on the soul from the 
 
 womb, 
 And the might of other men's example, among whom his lot is 
 
 cast, 
 And the influence of want, or wealth, of kindness or harsh ill- 
 usage. 
 Of ignorance he cannot help, and knowledge found for him by 
 
 others, 
 And first impressions, hard to be effaced, and leadings to right or 
 
 to wrong, 
 And inheritance of likeness from a father, and natural human 
 
 frailty. 
 And the habit of health or disease, and prejudices poured into his 
 
 mind, 
 And the myriad little matters none but Omniscience can know. 
 And accidents that steer the thoughts, where none but Ubiquity 
 , ; can trace them ; —   ^ . 
 ^ _ . 
 
 ^ 
 
 +
 
 52 OF HATRED AXD AXGEK. 
 
 If thou couldst compass all these, and the consequents flowing 
 
 from them, 
 And the scope to which they tend, and the necessary fitness of all 
 
 things, 
 Then shouldst thou see as He seeth, who judgeth all men equal,— 
 Equal, touching innocence and guilt ; and different alone in this, 
 That one acknowledgelh his evil, and looketh to his God for 
 
 mercy ; 
 Another boasteth of his good, and calleth on his God for justice ; 
 So He, that sendeth none away, is largely munificent to prayer, 
 But, in the heart of presumption, sheatheth the sword of 
 
 vengeance. 
 
 OF HATRED AND ANGER. 
 
 Blunted unto goodness is the heart which anger never stirreth, 
 But that which hatred swelleth, is keen to carve out evil. 
 Anger is a noble infirmity, the generous failing of the j-ust, 
 The one degree that riseth above zeal, asserting the prerogatives of 
 
 virtue : 
 But hatred is a slow continuing crime, a fire in the bad man's 
 
 breast, 
 A dull and hungry flame, for ever craving insatiate. 
 Hatred would harm another ; anger would indulge itself : 
 Hatred is a simmering poison ; anger, the opening of a valve : 
 Hatred destroyeth as the upas-tree ; anger smiteth as a staff : 
 Platred is the atmosphere of hell ; but anger is known in heaven. 
 Is there not a righteous wrath, an anger just and holy, 
 When goodness is sitting in the dust, and wickedness enthroned 
 
 on Babel ? 
 Doth pity condemn guilt?— is justice not a feeling but a law 
 Appealing to the line and to the plummet, incognizant of moral 
 
 sense ? 
 Thou that condemnest anger, small is thy sympathy with angels, 
 Thou that hast accounted it for sin, cold is thy communion with 
 
 heaven. 
 
 Beware of the angry in his passion ; but fear not to approach him 
 
 afterward ; 
 For if thou acknowledge thine error, he himself will be sorry for 
 
 his wrath :
 
 OF GOOD IN THINGS EVIL. 53 
 
 Beware of the hater in his coohiess ; for he meditateth evil against 
 
 thee : 
 Commending the resources of his mind calmly to work thy ruin. - 
 Deceit and treachery skulk with hatred, but an honest spirit fllcth 
 
 with anger : 
 The one lieth secret, as a serpent ; the other chaseth, as a 
 
 leopard. 
 Speedily be reconciled in love, and receive the returning offender. 
 For wittingly prolonging anger, thou tamperest unconsciously willi 
 
 hatred. 
 Patience is power in a man, nerving him to rein his spirit : 
 Passion is as palsy to his arm, while it yelletli on tlie coursers to 
 
 their speed : 
 Patience keepeth counsel, and standeth in solid self-possession, 
 ?)Ut the weakness of sudden passion layelh bare the secrets of the 
 
 soul. 
 The sentiment of anger is not ill, when thou lookest on the 
 
 impudence of vice, 
 Or savourest the breath of calumny, or hast earned the hard wages 
 
 of injustice, 
 But see that thou curb it in expression, rendering the mildness of 
 
 rebuke. 
 So shalt thou stand without reproach, mailed in all the dignity of 
 
 virtue. 
 
 OF GOOD IN THINGS EVIL. 
 
 I HEARD the man of sin reproaching the goodness of Jehovah, 
 Wherefore, if he be Almighty Love, permitteth he misery and 
 
 pain? 
 I saw the child of hope vexed in'the labyrinth of doubt, 
 Wherefore, O holy One and just, is the horn of thy foul foe so high 
 
 exalted ? — 
 And, alas ! for this our groaning world, for that grief and guilt are 
 
 here ; 
 Alas ! for that Earth is the battle-field, where good must com.bat 
 
 with evil : 
 Angels look on and hold their breatli, burning to mingle in the 
 L, conflict, jh^ 
 
 ^ ^ -^
 
 ^ — . — ^ 
 
 54 OJ^ GOOD IN THINGS EVIL. 
 
 But the troops of the Captain of Salvation may be none but the 
 
 soldiers of the cross : 
 And that slender band must fight alone, and yet shall triumph 
 
 gloriously, 
 Enough shall they be for conquest, and the motto of their standard 
 
 is, Enough. 
 Thou art sad, O denizen of earth, for pains and diseases and death, 
 liut remember, thy hand hath earned them ; grudge not at the 
 
 wages of thy doings : 
 Thy guilt, and thy fathers' guilt, must bring many sorrows in their 
 
 company. 
 And if thou wilt drink sweet poison, doubtless it shall rot thee to 
 
 the core. 
 What art thou but the heritor of evil, with a right to nothing 
 
 good ? 
 The respite of an interval of ease were a boon which Justice might 
 
 deny thee : 
 Therefore lay thy hand upon thy mouth, O man much to be 
 
 forgiven. 
 And wait, thou child of hope, for time shall teach thee all things. 
 
 Yet hear, for my speech shall comfort thee : reverently, but with 
 
 boldness, 
 I would raise the sable curtain; that hideth the symmetry of 
 
 Providence. 
 Pain and sin are convicts, and toil in their fetters for good ; 
 The weapons of evil are turned against itself, fighting under better 
 
 banners : 
 The leech delighteth in stinging, and the wicked loveth to do 
 
 harm, 
 r.ut the wise Physician of the Universe useth that ill tendency for 
 
 health. 
 Verily, from others' griefs are gendered sympathy and kindness ; 
 Patience, humility, and faith, spring not seldom from thine own : 
 An enemy, humbled by his sorrows, cannot be far from thy 
 
 forgiveness, 
 A friend, who hath tasted of calamity, shall fan the dying incense 
 
 of thy love : 
 And for thyself, is it a small thing, so to learn thy frailty. 
 That from an aching bone thou savest the whole body? 
 \- The furnace of affliction may be fierce, but if it refineth thy soul, ^ 
 
 ^1^ -^^ ^
 
 -4> 
 
 OF coon LV THINGS EVIL. 55 
 
 The good of one meek thought shall outweigh years of torment. 
 Nevertlieless, wretched man, if thy bad heart be hardened in the 
 
 flame, 
 15eing earth-born, as of clay, and not of moulded wax. 
 Judge not the hand that smiteth, as if thou wert visited in wrath : 
 Reproach thyself, for He is Justice ; repent thee, for He is Mercy. 
 
 Cease, fond caviller at wisdom, to be satisfied that everything is 
 
 wrong : 
 Be sure there is good necessity, even for the flourishing of evil. 
 Would the eye delight in perpetual noon? or the ear in unqualified 
 
 harmonics ? 
 Hath winter's frost no welcome, contrasting sturdily with summer? 
 Couldst thou discern benevolence, if there were no sorrows to be 
 
 soothed ? 
 Or discover the resources of contrivance, if nothing stood opposed 
 
 to the means ? 
 What were power without an enemy? or mercy without an 
 
 object? 
 Or truth, where the false were impossible? or love, where love 
 
 were a debt ? 
 The characters of God were but idle, if all things around him were 
 
 perfection. 
 And virtues might slumber on like death, if they lacked tlie 
 
 opportunities of evil. 
 There is one all-perfect, and but one ; man dare not reason of His 
 
 essence : 
 But there must be deficiencies in heaven, to leave room for pro- 
 gression in bliss : 
 A realm of unqualified BEST were a stagnant pool of being, 
 And the circle of absolute perfection, the abstract cipher of indo- 
 lence. 
 Sin is an awful shadow, but it addeth new glories to the light ; 
 Sin is a black foil, but it setteth off the jewelry of heaven : 
 Sin is the traitor that hath dragged the majesty of mercy into 
 
 action ; 
 Sin is the whelming argument, to justify the attribute of vengeance. 
 It is a deep dark thought, and needeth to be diligently studied, 
 But perchance evil was essential, that God should be seen of his 
 
 creatures : 
 For where perfection is not, there lacketh possible good, 
 
 4
 
 ^ 
 
 56 OF GOOD LV TinXGS EVTL. 
 
 And the absence of better that might be, taketh from the praise of 
 
 it is well : 
 And creatures must be finite, and finite cannot be perfect : 
 Therefore, though in small degree, creation involveth evil, 
 lie chargeth his angels with folly, and the heavens are not clean 
 
 in His sight : 
 For every existence in the universe hath either imperfection or 
 
 Godhead : 
 And the light that blazeth but in One, must be softened with 
 
 shadow for the many. 
 There is then good in evil ; or none could have known his Maker ; 
 No spiritual intellect or essence could have gazed on his high per- 
 fections, 
 No angel harps could have tuned the wonders of his wisdom, 
 No ransomed souls have praised the glories of his mercy, 
 No howling fiends have shown the terrors of his justice, 
 But God would have dwelt alone, in the fearful solitude of holi- 
 ness. 
 
 Nevertheless, O sinner, harden not thine heart in evil ; 
 
 Nor plume thee in imaginary triumph, because thou art not value- 
 less as vile ; 
 
 Because thy dark abominations add lustre to the clarity of Light ; 
 
 Because a wonder-working alchemy draineth elixir out of poisons ; 
 
 Because the same fiery volcano that scorcheth and ravageth a 
 continent, 
 
 Ilath in the broad blue baj' cast up some petty island ; 
 
 Because to the full demonstration of the qualities and accidents of 
 good, 
 
 The swarthy legions of the Devil have toiled as unwitting pioneers. 
 
 For sin is still sin ; so hateful Love doth hate it ; 
 
 A blot on the glory of creation, which justice must wipe out. 
 
 .Sin is a loathsome leprosy, fretting the white robe of innocence ; 
 
 A rottenness, eating out the heart of the royal cedars of Lebanon ; 
 
 A pestilential blast, the terror of that holy pilgrimage ; 
 
 A rent in the sacred veil, whereby God left his temple. 
 
 Therefore, consider thyself, thou that dost not sorrow for thy guilt : 
 
 Fear evil, or face its enemy : dread sin, or dare justice. 
 
 Vea, saith the Spirit, and their works do follow them ; 
 ^ ITal)its, and thoughts, and deeds, are shadoM's and satellites of self . 
 
 ^^r — if
 
 OF GOOD IN THINGS EVII. 57 
 
 What ! shall th.e claimant to a throne stand forward Mith a rabble 
 
 rout, — 
 Meanness, impiety, and lust ; riot and indolence and vanity ? 
 Nay, man ! the train wherewith thou comcst attend whither tliou 
 
 shalt go ; 
 A throne for a king's son, but an inner dungeon for the felon. 
 For a man's works do follow him : bodily, standing in the judg- 
 ment. 
 Behold the false accuser, behold the slandered saint ; 
 The slave, and his bloody driver ; the poor and his generous 
 
 friend ; 
 The simple dupe, and the crafty knave : the murderer, and — his 
 
 victim ! 
 Yet all are in many characters ; the best stand guilty at the bar ; 
 And he that seemed the worst may have most of real excuse. 
 The talents imto which a man is born, be they few or many. 
 Are dropped into the balance of account, working unlooked-for 
 
 changes ; 
 And perchance the convict from the galleys may stand above the 
 
 hermit from his cell, 
 For that the obstacles in one outweigh the propensions in the 
 
 other. 
 There be, who have made themselves friends, yea, liy unrighteous 
 
 mammon, — 
 Friends, ready waiting as an escort to those everlasting habitations ; 
 Embodied in living witnesses, thronging to meet them in a cloud. 
 Charity, meekness and truth, zeal, sincerity and patience. 
 There be, who have made themselves foes, yea, by honest gain, 
 Foes, whose plaint must have its answer, before the bright portal 
 
 is unbarred : 
 Pride, and selfishness, and sloth, apathy, wrath and falsehood, 
 Bind to their everlasting toil many that must weary in Uie fires. 
 Love hath a power and a longing to save the gathered world, 
 And rescue universal man from the hunting hell-hounds of his 
 
 doings : 
 Yet few, here one and there one, scanty as the gleaning after 
 
 harvest, 
 Are glad of the robes of praise which Mercy would fling around 
 
 the naked ; 
 But wrapping closer to their skin the poisoned tunic of their works, 
 Thev stand in self-dependence, to perish in al)an(lonment of God. 
 
 ^ 
 
 -♦
 
 ^ 
 
 4i- 
 
 58 OF PRA YER. 
 
 OF PRAYER. 
 
 A WICKED man scovnetli prayer, in the shallow sophistry of 
 reason, 
 
 He derideth the silly hope that God can be moved by supplica- 
 tion : — 
 
 Can the unchangeable be changed, or waver in his purpose ? 
 
 Can the weakness of pity affect him? Should he turn at the 
 bidding of a man ? 
 
 Methought he ruled all things, and ye called his decrees immu- 
 table, 
 
 But if thus he listeneth to words, wherein is the firmness of his 
 will ?— 
 
 So I heard the speech of the wicked, and, lo, it was smoother than 
 oil ; 
 
 But I knew that his reasonings were false, for the promise of the 
 Scripture is true : 
 
 Yet was my soul in darkness, for his words were too hard for me ; 
 
 Till I turned to my God in prayer : for I know He heareth always. 
 
 Then I looked abroad on the earth, and, behold, the Lord was in 
 all things ; 
 
 Yet saw I not his hand in aught, but perceived that He worketh 
 by means ; 
 
 Yea, and the power of the mean proveth the wisdom that ordained 
 
 it, 
 Yea, and no act is useless, to the hurling of a stone through the 
 
 air. 
 So I turned my thoughts to supplication, and beheld the mercies 
 
 of Jehovah, 
 And I saw sound argument was still the faithful friend of godliness : 
 For as the rock of the affections is the solid approval of reason, 
 Even so the temple of Religion is founded on the basis of Phi- 
 losophy, 
 
 Scorner, thy thoughts are weak, they reach not the summit of the 
 
 matter ; 
 Go to, for the mouth of a child might show thee the mystery of 
 
 prayer : 
 Verily, there is no change in the counsels of the Mighty Ruler : 
 Verily, his purpose is strong, and rooted in the depths of necessity :
 
 OF PR A YER. t;9 
 
 But who hath sliown thee his purpose, who hath made known to 
 
 thee his will ? 
 When, O gainsayer 1 hast thou been schooled in the secrets of 
 
 wisdom ? 
 Fate is a creature of God, and all things move in their orbits, 
 And that which shall surely happen is known unto him from 
 
 eternity ; 
 But as, in the field of nature, he useth the sinews of the ox, 
 And commandeth diligence and toil, himself giving the increase ; 
 So, in the kingdom of his grace, granteth he omnipotence to 
 
 prayer, 
 For he knoweth what thou wilt ask, and what thou wilt ask aright. 
 No man can pray in faith, whose prayer is not grounded on a ' 
 
   promise : 
 Yet a good man commendeth all things to the righteous wisdom of 
 
 his God : 
 For those, who pray in faith, trust the immutable Jehovah, 
 And they, who ask blessings unpromised, lean on un covenanted 
 
 mercy. 
 
 I\Ian, regard thy prayers as a purpose of love to thy soul ; 
 
 Esteem the providence that led to them as an index of God's good 
 
 will ; 
 So shalt thou pray aright, and thy words shall meet with accept- 
 ance. 
 Also, in pleading for others, be thankful for the fulness of thy 
 
 prayer : 
 For if thou art ready to ask, the Lord is more ready to bestow. 
 The salt preserveth the sea, and the saints uphold the earth ; 
 Their prayers are the thousand pillars that prop the canopy of 
 
 nature. 
 Verily, an hour without prayer, from some terrestrial mind, 
 Were a curse in the calendar of time, a spot of the blackness of 
 
 darkness. 
 Perchance the terrible day, when the world must rock into ruins, 
 Will be one unwhitened by prayer, — shall He find faith on the 
 
 earth ? 
 For there is an economy of mercy, as of wisdom, and power, and 
 
 means ; 
 Neither is one blessing granted, unbesought from the treasury of 
 
 good : 
 
 ^
 
 6o OF PR A YER. 
 
 And the charitable heart of the Being, to depend upon whom is 
 
 happiness, 
 Never withlioldeth a bounty, so long as his subject prayeth ; 
 Yea, ask what thou wilt, to the second throne in heaven, 
 It is thine, for whom it was appointed ; there is no limit unto 
 
 prayer : 
 But and if thou cease to ask, tremble, thou self-suspended 
 
 creature, 
 For thy strength is cut off as was Samson's : and the hour of thy 
 
 doom is come. 
 
 Frail art thou, O man, as a bubble on the breaker, 
 
 Weak and governed by externals, like a poor bird caught in the 
 
 storm ; 
 Yet thy momentary breath can still the raging waters. 
 Thy hand can touch a lever that may move the world. 
 O Merciful, we strike eternal covenant with thee, 
 For man may take for his ally the King who ruleth kings : 
 How strong, yet how most weak, in utter poverty how rich, 
 What possible omnipotence to good is dormant in a man ! 
 Behold that fragile form of delicate transparent beauty. 
 Whose light-blue eye and hectic cheek are lit by the bale-fires of 
 
 decline, 
 All droopingly she lieth, as a dew-laden lily. 
 
 Her flaxen tresses, rashly luxuriant, dank with unhealthy moisture : 
 Hath not thy heart said of her, Alas ! poor child of weakness ? 
 Thou hast erred ; Goliath of Gath stood not in half her strength : 
 Terribly she fighteth in the van as the virgin daughter of Orleans. 
 She beareth the banner of heaven, her onset is the rushing cata- 
 ract. 
 Seraphim rally at her side, and the captain of that host is God, 
 And the serried ranks of evil are routed by the lightning of her 
 
 eye; 
 She is the King's remembrancer, and steward of many blessings, 
 Holding the buckler of security over her untliankful land : 
 For that weak fluttering heart is strong in faith assured. 
 Dependence is her might, and behold — she prayeth. 
 
 Angels are round the good man, to catch the incense of his 
 
 prayers. 
 And they fly to minister kindness to those for whom he pleadeth ; 
 
 ^
 
 THE LORD'S PKAYEK. 6i 
 
 Fcr the altar of liis heart is lighted, and burnetii before God con- 
 tinually, 
 And he breatheth, conscious of his joy, the native atmosphere of 
 
 heaven : 
 Yea, though poor, and contemned, and ignorant of this world's 
 
 wisdom, 
 111 can his fellows spare him, though they know ftot of his value. 
 Thousands bewail a hero, and a nation mourneth for its king, 
 But the whole universe lamenteth the loss of a man of prayer. 
 Verily, were it not for One, who sitteth on His rightful throne, 
 Crowned with a rainbow of emerald, the green memorial of earth, — 
 For one, a mediating man, that hath clad His Godhead with mor- 
 tality. 
 And oflfereth prayer without ceasing, the royal priest of Nature, 
 Matter and life and mind had sunk into dark annihilation, 
 And the lightning frown of Justice withered the world into 
 nothing. 
 
 Thus, O worshipper of reason, thou hast heard the sum of the 
 matter : 
 
 And woe to his liairy scalp that restraineth prayer before God. 
 
 Prayer is a creature's strength, his very breath and being ; 
 
 Prayer is the golden key that can open the wicket of Mercy j 
 
 Prayer is the magic sound that saith to Fate, so be it ; 
 
 Prayer is the slender nerve that moveth the muscles of Omnipo- 
 tence : 
 
 Wherefore, pray, O creature, for many and great are thy wants ; 
 
 Thy mind, thy conscience, and thy being, thy rights commend thee 
 unto prayer. 
 
 The cure of all cares, the grand panacea for all pains. 
 
 Doubt's destroyer, ruin's remedy, the antidote to all anxieties. 
 
 So then, God is true, and yet He hath not changed : 
 It is Pie that sendeth the petition, to answer it according to His 
 will. 
 
 THE LORD'S PRAYER. 
 
 Inquirest thou, O man, wherewithal may I come unto the Lord ? 
 And with what wonder-working sounds may I move the majesty 
 of heaven ?
 
 ^ 
 
 +• 
 
 62 THE LORUS PR A YER. 
 
 There is a model to thy hand ; upon that do thou frame thy sup- 
 plication ; 
 Wisdom hath measured its words ; and redemption urgeth thee to 
 
 use them. 
 Call thy God thy Father, and yet not thine alone, 
 For thou art but one of many, thy brotherhood is with all : 
 Remember his high estate, that he dwelleth King of Heaven ; 
 So shall thy thoughts be humbled, nor love be unmixed witii 
 
 reverence : 
 Be thy first petition unselfish, the honour of Him who made thee, 
 And that in the depths of thy heart his memory be shrined in 
 
 holiness : 
 Pray for that blessed time, when good shall triumph over evil, 
 And one universal temple echo the perfections of Jehovah : 
 Bend thou to his good will, and subserve his holy purposes. 
 Till in thee, and those around thee, grow a little heaven upon 
 
 earth : 
 Humbly, as a grateful almsman, beg thy bread of God, — 
 Bread for thy triple estate, for thou hast a trinity of nature : 
 Humility smootheth the way, and gratitude softeneth the heart. 
 Be then thy prayer for pardon mingled with the tear of penitence ; 
 Yea, and while, all unworthy, thou leanest on the hand that should 
 
 smite, 
 Thou canst not from thy fellows withhold thy less forgiveness ; 
 To thy Father thy weaknesses are known, and thou hast not hid 
 
 thy sin, 
 Therefore ask him, in all trust, to lead thee from the dangers of 
 
 temptation ; 
 While the last petition of the soul, that breathed on the confines of 
 
 prayer, 
 Is deliverance from sin and the evil one, the miseries of earth and 
 
 hell. 
 And wherefore, child of hope, should the rock of thy confidence be 
 
 sure ? 
 Thou knowest that God heareth, and promiseth an answer of 
 
 peace ; 
 Thou knowest that he is King, and none can stay his hand ; 
 Thou knowest his power to be boundless, for there is none other : 
 And to Him thou givest glory, as a creature of his workmanship 
 
 and favour, 
 For the never-ending term of thy saved and bright existence. 
 
 4
 
 OF DISCRETION. 6 
 
 o 
 
 OF DISCRETION. 
 For what then was I born? — to fill the circling year 
 With i^aily toil for daily bread, with sordid pains and pleasures ? — 
 To walk this chequered world, alternate light and darkness, 
 The day-dreams of deep thought followed by the night-dreams of 
 
 fancy ? — 
 To be one in a full procession ? — to dig my kindred clay ? — 
 To decorate the gallery of art ? — to clear a few acres of forest ? — 
 For more than these, my soul, thy God hath lent thee life. 
 Is then that noble end to feed this mind with knowledge. 
 To mix for mine own thirst the sparkling wine of wisdom, 
 To light with many lamps the caverns of my heart, 
 To reap, in the furrows of my brain, good harvest of right 
 
 reasons ? — 
 For more than these, my soul, thy God hath lent thee life. 
 Is it to grow stronger in self-government, to check the chafing will, 
 To curb with tightening rein the mettled steeds of passion, 
 To Avelcome with calm heart, far in the voiceless desert, 
 The gracious visitings of heaven that bless my single self? — 
 For more than these, my soul, thy God hath lent thee life. 
 To aim at thine own happiness, is an end idolatrous and evil \ 
 In earth, yea in heaven, if thou seek it for itself, seeking thou 
 
 shalt not find. 
 Happiness is a road-side flower, growing on the highway of Use- 
 fulness ; 
 Plucked, it shall wither in thy hand ; passed by, it is fragrance to 
 
 thy spirit : 
 Love not thine own soul, regard not thine own weal, 
 Trample the thyme beneath thy feet ; be useful, and be happy ! 
 Thus unto fair conclusions argueth generous youth, 
 And quickly he starteth on his course, knight-errant to do good. 
 His sword is edged with arguments, his vizor terrible with 
 
 censures j 
 He goeth full mailed in faith, and zeal is flaming at his heart. 
 Yet one thing he lacketh, the Mentor of the mind, 
 The quiet whisper of Discretion— Thy time is not yet come. 
 For he smiteth an oppressor ; and vengeance for that smiting 
 Is dealt in doubled stripes on the faint body of the victim : 
 He is glad to give and to distribute; and clamorous pauperism 
 
 fcasteth,
 
 64 OF DlSCRETIOy. 
 
 Wliile honest labour, pining, hidelh liis sliarp nb.s: 
 
 He challengeth to a fair field that subtle giant Infidelity, 
 
 And, worsted in the unequal fight, strengtheneth the liands of 
 
 error ; 
 He hasteth to teach and preach, as the war-horse rusheth to the 
 
 battle, 
 And to pave a way for truth, would break up the Ajjennines of 
 
 prejudice : 
 He wearieth by stale proofs, where none looked for a reason, 
 And to the listening ear will urge the false argument of feeling. 
 So hath it often been, that, judging by results, 
 The hottest friends of truth have done her deadliest wrong. 
 Alas ! for there are enemies without, glad enough to parley with a 
 
 traitor, 
 And a zealot will let down the drawbridge, to prove his own 
 
 prowess : 
 Vea, from within will he break away a breach in the citadel of 
 
 truth, 
 That he may fill the gap, for fame, with his own weak body. 
 
 Zeal without judgment is an evil, though it be zeal unto good ; 
 Touch not the ark with unclean hand, yea, though it' seem to 
 
 totter. 
 There are evil who work good, and there are good who work 
 
 evil, 
 And foolish backers of wisdom have brought on her many 
 
 reproaches. 
 Truth hath more than enough to combat in the minds of all men, 
 For the mist of sense is a thick veil, and sin hath warped their 
 
 wills ; 
 Yet doth an officious helper awkwardly prevent her victory, — 
 These thy wounded hands were smitten in the house of friends : — 
 To point out a meaning in her words, he will blot those words 
 
 with his finger ; 
 And winnow chaff into the eyes, before he hath wheat to show : 
 He will heap sturdy logs on a faint expiring fire. 
 And with a room in flames, will cast the casement open ; 
 By a shoulder to the wheel downhill harasseth the labouring 
 
 beast, 
 And where obstruction were needed, will harm Ly an ill-judged 
 
 thrusting-on.
 
 OF TRIFLES. 65 
 
 A vessel founderetli at sea, if a storm have unsliipped the rudder ; 
 
 And a mind with much sail shall require heavy ballast. 
 
 Take a lever by the middle, thou shalt seem to prove it powerless, 
 
 Argue for truth indiscreetly, tliou shalt toil for falsehood. 
 
 There is plenty of room for a peaceable man in the most thronged 
 
 assembly ; 
 But a quarrelsome spirit is straitened in the open field : 
 Many a teacher, lacking judgment, hindereth liis own lessons ; 
 And the savoury mess of pottage is spoiled by a bitter herb : 
 The garment woven of a piece is rashly torn by schism. 
 Because its unwise claimants will not cast lots for its possession. 
 
 Discretion guide thee on thy way, noble-minded youth, 
 Help thee to humour infirmities, to wink at innocent errors. 
 To take small count of forms, to bear with prejudice and fancy : 
 Discretion guard thine asking, discretion aid thine answer. 
 Teach thee that well-timed silence hath more eloquence than 
 
 speech, 
 Whisper thee, thou art Weakness, though thy cause be Strength, 
 And tell thee, the key-stone of an arch can be loosened with least 
 
 labour from within. 
 The snows of Hecla lie around its troubled smoking Geysers ; 
 Let the cool streams of prudence temper the hot spring of zeal : 
 So shalt thou gain thine honourable end, nor lose the midway 
 
 prize : 
 So shall thy life be useful, and thy young heart happy. 
 
 -f 
 
 OF TRIFLES. 
 
 Yet once more, saith the fool, yet once, and is it not a little 
 
 one? 
 Spare me this folly yet an hour, for what is one among so many ? 
 And he blindeth his conscience with lies, and stupifieth his heart 
 
 with doubts ; — 
 Whom shall I harm in this matter? and a little ill breedeth much 
 
 good ; 
 My thoughts, are they not mine own ? and they leave no mark 
 
 behind them ; 
 And if God so pardoneth crime, how should these petty sins affec 
 
 him? — 
 
 E 

 
 66 OF TRIFLES. 
 
 So he transgresseth yet again, and falleth by little and little, 
 
 Till the ground crumble beneath him, and he sinketh in the gulf 
 
 despairing. 
 For there is nothing in the earth so small that it may not produce 
 
 great things, 
 And no swerving from a right line, that may not lead eternally 
 
 astray. 
 A landmark tree was once a seed ; and the dust in the balance 
 
 maketh a difference ; 
 And the cairn is heaped high by each one flinging a pebble : 
 The dangerous bar in the harbour's mouth is only grains of sand ; 
 And the shoal that hath wrecked a navy is the work of a colony 
 
 of worms : 
 Yea, and a despicable gnat may madden the mighty elephant ; 
 And the living rock is worn by the diligent flow of the brook. 
 Little art thou, O man, and in trifles thou contendest with thine 
 
 equals, 
 For atoms must crowd upon atoms, ere crime groweth to be a 
 
 giant. 
 What, is thy servant a dog ? — not yet wilt thou grasp the dagger, 
 Not yet wilt thou laugh with the scoffers, not yet betray the 
 
 innocent ; 
 But, if thou nourish in thy heart the reveries of injury or passion, 
 And travel in mental heat the mazy labyrinths of guilt, 
 And then conceive it possible, and then reflect on it as done. 
 And use, by little and little, thyself to regard thyself a villain, 
 Not long will crime be absent from the voice that doth invoke him 
 
 to thy heart. 
 And bitterly wilt thou grieve, that the buds have ripened into 
 
 poison. 
 
 A spark is a molecule of matter, yet may it kindle the world : 
 Vast is the mighty ocean, but drops have made it vast. 
 Despise not thou a small thing, either for evil or for good ; 
 For a look may work thy ruin, or a word create thy wealtli : 
 The walking this way or that, the casual stopping or hastening. 
 Hath saved life, and destroyed it, hath cast down and built up 
 
 fortunes. 
 Commit thy trifles unto God, for to him is nothing trivial ; 
 And it is but the littleness of man that seeth no greatness in a 
 
 trifle. 
 
 '^
 
 OF TRIFLES. 67 
 
 All things are infinite in parts, and the moral is as the material, 
 Neither is anything vast, but it is compacted of atoms. 
 ' Thou art wise, and shalt find comfort, if thou study thy pleasure in 
 
 trifles, 
 For slender joys, often repeated, fall as sunshine on the heart : 
 Thou art wise, if thou beat off petty troubles, nor suffer their 
 
 stinging to fret thee ; 
 Thrust not thine hand among the thorns, but with a leathern 
 
 glove. 
 Regard nothing lightly which the wisdom of Providence hath 
 
 ordered ; 
 And therefore, consider all things that happen unto thee or unto 
 
 otiiers. 
 The warrior that stood against a host, may be pierced unto death 
 
 by a needle ; 
 And the saint that feareth not the fire, may perish the victim of a 
 
 thought : 
 A mote in the gunner's eye is as bad as a spike in the gun ; 
 And the cable of a furlong is lost through an ill-wrought inch. 
 The streams of small pleasures fill the lake of happiness ; 
 And the deepest wretchedness of life is continuance of petty pains. 
 A fool observeth nothing, and seemeth wise unto himself ; 
 A wise man heedeth all things, and in his own eyes is a fool : 
 He that wondereth at nothing hath no capabilities of bliss ; 
 But he that scrutinizeth trifles hath a store of pleasure to his hand. 
 If pestilence stalk through the land, ye say, This is God's doing ; 
 Is it not also his doing when an aphis creepeth on a rose-bud ? — 
 If an avalanche roll from its Alp, ye tremble at the will of Provi- 
 dence : 
 Is not that will concerned when the sear leaves fall from the 
 
 poplar ? — 
 A thing is great or little only to a mortal's tliinking, 
 But abstracted from the body, all things are alike important ; 
 The Ancient of Days noteth in his book the idle converse of a 
 
 creature, 
 And happy and wise is the man to whose thought existeth not a 
 
 trifle. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■#
 
 4- 
 
 68 OF RECREA TIOK 
 
 OF RECREATION. 
 To join advantage to amusement, to gather profit with pleasure, 
 Is the wise man's necessary aim, when he lieth in the s'hade of 
 
 recreation. 
 For he cannot fling aside his mind, nor bar up the floodgates of 
 
 his wisdom ; 
 Yea, though he strain after folly, his mental monitor shall check 
 
 him : 
 For knowledge and ignorance alike have laws essential to their 
 
 being,— 
 The sage studieth amusements, and the simple laugheth in his 
 
 studies. 
 Few, but full of understanding, are llie books of tlie library of 
 
 God, 
 And fitting for all seasons are the gain and the gladness they 
 
 bestow : 
 The volume of mystery and Grace, for tlie hour of deep com- 
 munings, 
 When the soul considereth intensely the startling marvel of itself: 
 The book of destiny and Providence, for the time of sober study. 
 When the mind gleaneth wisdom from the olive grove of history : 
 And the cheerful pages of Nature, to gladden the pleasant holiday, 
 When the task of duty is complete, and the heart swelleth high 
 
 with satisfaction. 
 The soul may not safely dwell too long with the deep things of 
 
 futurity; 
 The mind may not always be bent back, like the Parthian, strain- 
 ing at the past : 
 And, if thou art wearied with wrestling on the broad arena of 
 
 science, 
 Leave awhile thy friendly foe, half vanquished in the dust, 
 Refresh thy jaded limbs, return with vigour to the strife, — 
 Thou shalt easier find thyself his master, for the vacant interval of 
 
 leisure. 
 
 That which may profit and amuse is gathered from the volume of 
 
 creation, 
 For every chapter therein teemeth with the playfulness of wisdom. 
 The elements of all things are the same, though nature hath mixed 
 
 them with a difference, 
 ^
 
 OF RECREA TION. 69 
 
 And Learning delighteth to discover the affinity of seeming op- 
 
 posites : 
 So out of great things and small draweth he the secrets of the 
 
 universe, 
 And argueth the cycles of the stars, from a pebMe flung by a 
 
 child. 
 It is pleasant to note all plants, from the rush to the spreading 
 
 cedar, 
 From the giant king of palms, to the lichen that staineth its stem ; 
 To watch the workings of instinct, that grosser reason of brutes,— 
 The river-horse browsing in the jungle, the plover screaming on 
 
 the moor. 
 The cayman basking on a mud-bank, and the walrus anchored to 
 
 an iceberg, 
 The dog at his master's feet, and the milch-kine lowing in the 
 
 meadow ; 
 To trace the consummate skill that hath modelled the anatomy of 
 
 insects, 
 Small fowls that sun their wings on the petals of wild flowers ; 
 To learn a use in the beetle, and more than a beauty in the 
 
 butterfly ; 
 To recognize affections in a moth, and look with admiration on a 
 
 spider. 
 It is glorious to gaze upon the firmament, and see from far the man- 
 sions of the blest, 
 Each distant shining world, a kingdom for one of the redeemed ; 
 To read the antique history of earth, stamped upon those medals 
 
 in the rocks 
 Which Design hath rescued from decay, to tell of the green 
 
 infancy of time; 
 To gather from the unconsidered shingle mottled starlike agates. 
 Full of unstoried flowers in the bubbling bloom-chalcedony ; 
 Or gay and curious shells, fretted with microscopic carving. 
 Corallines, and fresh seaweeds, spreading forth their delicate 
 
 branches. 
 It is an admirable lore, to learn the cause in the change. 
 To study the chemistry of Nature, her grand but simple secrets, 
 To search out all her wonders, to track the resources of her skill, 
 To note her kind compensations, her unobtrusive excellence. 
 In all it is wise happiness to see the well-ordained laws of 
 
 Jehovah, 
 
 ■# 
 
 4
 
 * 
 
 ^ 
 
 70 OF RECREA TION. 
 
 The harmony that filleth all his mind, the justice that tcmpcreth 
 
 his bounty, 
 The wonderful all-prevalent analogy that testifieth one Creator, 
 The broad arrow of the Great King, carved on all the stores of his 
 
 arsenal. 
 But beware, O worshipper of God, thou forget not him in his 
 
 dealings, 
 Though the bright emanations of his power hide him in created 
 
 glory ; 
 For if, on the sea of knowledge, thou regardest not the pole-star of 
 
 religion, 
 Thy bark will miss her port, and run upon the sandbar of folly : 
 And if, enamoured of the means, thou considerest not the scope to 
 
 which they tend, 
 Wherein art thou wiser than the child, that is pleased with toys 
 
 and baubles ? 
 Verily, a trifling scholar, thou heedest but the letter of instruction: 
 For, as motive is spirit unto action, as memory endeareth place, 
 As the sun doth fertilize the earth, as affection quickeneth the 
 
 heart, 
 So is theremembrance of God in the varied wonders of creation. 
 
 Man hath found out inventions, to cheat him of the weariness of 
 
 life. 
 To help him to forget realities, and hide the misery of guilt. 
 For love of praise, and hope of gain, for passion and delusive hap- 
 piness. 
 He joineth the circle of folly, and heapeth on the fue of excite- 
 ment ; 
 Oftentimes sadly out of heart at the tiresome insipidity of pleasure. 
 Oftentimes labouring in vain, convinced of the palpable deceit : 
 Yet a man speaketh to his brother, in the voice of glad congratu- 
 lation. 
 And thinketh others happy, though he himself be wretched : 
 And hand joineth hand to help in the toil of amusement, 
 While the secret aching heart is vacant of all but disappointment. 
 The cheapest pleasures are the best ; and nothing is more costly 
 
 than sin ; 
 Yet we mortgage futurity, counting it but little loss : 
 Neither can a man delight in that which breedeth sorrow, 
 Yet do we hunt for joy even in the fires that consume it.
 
 THE TRAIN OF RELIGION. 71 
 
 \Vlio=^o would find gladness may meet her in the hovel of poverty, 
 
 Wliere benevolence hath scattered around the gleanings of the horn 
 of plenty ; 
 
 Whoso would sun himself in peace, may be seen of her in deeds of 
 mercy, 
 
 When the pale lean cheek of the destitute is wet with grateful 
 tears. 
 
 If the mind is wearied by study, or the body worn with sickness, 
 
 It is well to lie fallow for a while, in the vacancy of sheer amuse- 
 ment ; 
 
 But when thou prosperest in health, and thine intellect can soar 
 untired. 
 
 To seek uninstructive pleasure is to slumber on the couch of 
 indolence. 
 
 ■^ 
 
 THE TRAIN OF RELIGION. 
 
 Stay awhile, thou blessed band, be entreated, daughters of 
 
 heaven ! 
 While the chance-met scholar of Wisdom learneth your sacred 
 
 names: 
 He is resting a little from his toil, yet a little on the borders of 
 
 eartli, 
 And fain would he have you his friends, to bid him glad welcome 
 
 hereafter. 
 Who among the glorious art thou, that walkest a Goddess and a 
 
 Queen, ' 
 
 Thy crown of living stars, and a golden cross thy sceptre? n 
 
 Who among flowers of loveliness is she, thy seeming herald, 
 Yet she boasteth not thee nor herself, and her garments are plain 
 
 in their neatness? 
 Wherefore is there one among the train, whose eyes are red with 
 
 weeping. 
 Yet IS her open forehead beaming with the sun of ecstasy? 
 And who is that blood-stained warrior, with glory sitting on his 
 
 crest ? 
 And who that solemn sage, calm in majestic dignity? 
 Also, in the lengthening troop see I some clad in robes of triumph. 
 Whose fair and sunny faces I have known and loved on earth: 
 Welcome, ye glorified Loves, Graces, and Sciences, and Muses, 
 That, like sisters of charity, tended in this world's hospital; . 
 
 ^" ^ • -_.^i^
 
   H 
 
 72 TJ/£ TRAIN OF RELIGION. 
 
 Welcome, for verily I knew, ye could not but be children of the 
 
 light, 
 Though earth hath soiled your robes, and robbed you of half your 
 
 glory; 
 Welcome, chiefly welcome, for I find I have friends in heaven. 
 And some I might scarce have looked for, as thou, light-hearted 
 
 Mirth ; 
 Thou also, star-robed Urania ; and thou, with the curious glass. 
 That rejoicedst in tracking wisdom where the eye was too dull to 
 
 note it: 
 And art thou too among the blessed, mild much-injured Poetry ? 
 Who quickenest with light and beauty the leaden face of matter. 
 Who not unheard, though silent, fillest earth's gardens with 
 
 music, 
 And not unseen, though a spirit, dost look down upon us from the 
 
 stars, — 
 That hast been to me for oil and for wine, to cheer and uphold 
 
 my soul, 
 When wearied, battling with the surge, the stunning surge of life : 
 Of thee, for well have I loved thee, of thee may I ask in hope, 
 Who among the glorious is she, that walketh a Goddess and a 
 
 Queen ? 
 And who that fair-haired herald, and who that weeping saint ? 
 And who that mighty warrior, and who that solemn sage ? 
 
 Son, happy art thou that Wisdom hath led thee hitherward : 
 
 For otherwise never hadst thou known the joy-giving name of our 
 
 Queen. 
 Behold her, the life of men, the anchor of their shipwrecked 
 
 hopes : 
 Behold her, the shepherdess of souls, who bringeth back tlie 
 
 Avanderers to God. 
 And for that modest herald, she is named on earth Humility : 
 And hast thou not known, my son, the tearful face of Repentance ? 
 Faith is yon time-scarred hero, walking in the shade of his 
 
 laurels : 
 And Reason, the serious sage, who followeth the footsteps of 
 
 Faith : 
 And we, all we, are but handmaids, ministers of minor bliss, 
 Who rejoice to be counted servants in the train of a Queen so 
 
 glorious ; 
 
 \
 
 OF A TRINITY. 73 
 
 But for her name, son of man, it is strange to tlie language of 
 
 heaven, 
 For those who have never fallen need not and may not learn it : 
 Ligeance we swear to our God, and ligeance well have we kept ; 
 It is only the band of the redeemed who can tell thee the fulness 
 
 of that name : 
 Yet will I comfort thee, my son, for the love wherewith thou hast 
 
 loved me, 
 And thou shalt touch for thyself the golden sceptre of Religion. 
 
 So that blessed train passed by me ; but the vision was sealed 
 
 upon my soul ; 
 And its memory is shrined in fragrance, for the promise of the 
 
 Spirit was true : 
 I learn from the silent poem of all creation round me, 
 How beautiful their feet, who follow in that train. 
 
 
 OF A TRINITY. 
 
 Despise not, shrewd reckoner, the God of a good man's worship, 
 Neither let thy calculating folly gainsay the unity of three : 
 Nor scorn another's creed, although he cannot solve thy doubts ; 
 Reason is the follower of faith, where he may not be precursor : 
 It is written, and so we believe, waiting not for outward proof, 
 Inasmuch as mysteries inscrutable are the clear prerogatives of 
 
 Godhead. 
 Reason hath nothing positive, faith hath nothing doubtful ; 
 And the height of unbelieving wisdom is to question all things. 
 When there is marvel in a doctrine, faith is joyful and adoreth ; 
 But when all is clear, what place is left for faith ? 
 Tell me the sum of thy knowledge, — is it yet assured of anything? 
 Despise not what is wonderful, \\'hen all things are wonderful 
 
 around thee. 
 From the multitude of like effects, thou sayest, behold a law : 
 And the matter thou art bafifled in unmaking is to thy mind an 
 
 element : 
 Then look abroad, I pray thee, for analogy holdeth everywhere, 
 And the Maker hath stamped his name on every creature of his 
 
 hand : 
 
 4
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 74 OF A TRINITY. 
 
 I know not of a matter or a spirit, that is not three in one, 
 And truly should account it for a marvel, a coin without the 
 image of its Cresar. 
 
 Man talketh of himself as ignorant, but judgeth by himself as wise : 
 His own guess counteth he truth, but the notions of another are 
 
 his scorn. 
 But bear thou yet with a brother, whose thought may be less 
 
 subtle than thine own, 
 And suffer the passing speculation suggested by analogies to faith. 
 Like begetteth like, and the great sea of Existence 
 In each of its uncounted waves holdeth up a mirror to its Maker : 
 Like begetteth like, and the spreading tree of being 
 With each of its trefoil leaves pointeth at the trinity of God. 
 Let him whose eyes have been unfilmed, read this homily in all 
 
 things, 
 And thou, of duller sight, despise not him that readeth : 
 There be three grand principles ; life, generation, and obedience ; 
 Shadowing in every creature, the Spirit, and the Father, and the 
 
 Son : 
 There be three grand unities, variously mixed in trinities. 
 Three catholic divisors of the million sums of matter : 
 Yea, though science hath not seen it, climbing the ladder of 
 
 experiment. 
 Let faith, in the presence of her God, promulgate the mighty 
 
 truth ; 
 Of three sole elements all nature's works consist : 
 The pine, and the rock to which it clingeth, and the eagle sailing 
 
 around it : 
 The lion, and the northern whale, and the deeps wherein he 
 
 sporteth ; 
 The lizard sleeping in the sun ; the lightning flashing from a 
 
 cloud ; 
 The rose, and the ruby, and the pearl ; each one is made of three ; 
 And the three be the like ingredients, mingled in diverse mea- 
 sures. 
 Thyself hast within thyself body, and life, and mind : 
 Matter, and breath, and instinct, unite in all beasts of the field ; 
 Substance, coherence, and weight, fashion the fabrics of the earth ; 
 The will, the doing, and the deed, combine to frame a fact : 
 The stem, the leaf, and the flower ; beginning, middle, and end ;
 
 OF A TRINITY. 75 
 
 Cause, circumstance, consequent : and every three is one : 
 
 Yea, the very breath of man's life consisteth of a trinity of 
 
 vapours, 
 And the noonday light is a compound, the triune shadow of 
 
 Jehovah. 
 
 Shall all thinf^s else be in mystery, and God alone be understood ? 
 Shall finite fathom infinity, though it sound not the shallows of 
 
 creation ? 
 Shall a man comprehend his Maker, being yet a riddle to himself? 
 Or time teach the lesson that eternity cannot master ? 
 If God be nothing more than one, a child can compass the thought ; 
 But seraphs fail to unravel the wondrous unity of three. 
 One verily He is, for there can be but one who is all mighty ; 
 Yet the oracles of nature and religion proclaim Him three in one. 
 And where were the value to thy soul, O miserable denizen of 
 
 eartli. 
 Of the idle pageant of the cross, where hung no sacrifice for thee? 
 Where the worth to thine impotent heart, of that stirred Bethesda, 
 All numbed and palsied as it is, by the scoi-pion stings of sin ? 
 No, thy trinity of nature, enchained by treble death. 
 Helplessly craveth of its God, Himself for three salvations : 
 The soul to be reconciled in love, the mind to be glorified in light, 
 While this poor dying body leapeth into life. 
 And if indeed for us all the costly ransom hath been paid, 
 Bethink thee, could less than Deity have owned so vast a treasure? 
 Could a man contend with God, and stand against the bosses nf 
 
 His buckler, 
 Rendering the balance for guilt, atonement to the uttermost ? 
 Tliou art subtle to thine own thinking, but wisdom judgeth thee a 
 
 fool, 
 Resolving thou wilt not bow the knee to a Being thou canst not 
 
 comprehend : 
 The mind that could compass perfection were itself perfection's 
 
 equal ; 
 And reason refuseth its homage to a God who can be fully under- 
 stood. 
 
 Thou that despisest mystery, yet canst expound nothing. 
 Wherefore rejectest thou the fact tliat solveth the enigma of all 
 things ? 
 
 ■^
 
 76 OF THINKING. 
 
 Wherefore veilest thou thine eyes, lest the light of revelatitm s'un 
 
 them, 
 And puttest aside the key that would open the casket of trath ? 
 The mind and the nature of God are shadowed in all his works, 
 And none could have guessed of his essence, had He not uttered 
 
 it Himself. 
 Therefore, thou child of folly, that scornest the record of his 
 
 wisdom, 
 Learn from the consistencies of nature the needful miracle of God- 
 head : 
 Yea, let the heathen be thy teacher, who adoreth many gods, 
 For there is no wide-spread error that hath not trutli for its 
 
 beginning. 
 Be content ; thine eye cannot see all the sides of a cube at o^e 
 
 view. 
 Nor thy mind in the self-same moment follow two ideas : 
 There are now many marvels in thy creed, believing what thou 
 
 seest. 
 Then let not the conceit of intellect hinder thee from worshipping 
 
 mystery. 
 
 OF THINKING. 
 
 Reflection is a flower of the mind, giving out wholesome fra- 
 grance, 
 
 But reverie is the same flower, when rank and running to seed. 
 
 Better to read little with thought, than much with levity and quick- 
 ness ; 
 
 For mind is not as merchandize, which decreaseth in the using, 
 
 But liker to the passions of man, which rejoice and expand in ex- 
 ertion : 
 
 Yet live not wholly on thine own ideas, lest they lead thee astray; 
 
 For in spirit, as in substance, thou art a social creature ; 
 
 And if thou leanest on thyself, thou rejectest the guidance of thy 
 betters, 
 
 Yea, thou contemnest all men, — Am I not wiser than they? — 
 
 Foolish vanity hath blinded thee, and warped thy weak judgment; 
 
 For, though new ideas flow from new springs, and enrich the 
 treasury of knowledge, 
 
 Yet listen often, ere thou tliink much ; and look around thee ere 
 thou judgest.
 
 ^ 
 
 OF THINKING. 77 
 
 Memory, the daughter of Attention, is the teeming mother of 
 
 Wisdom, 
 And safer is he that storeth knowledge, than he that would make 
 
 it for himself. 
 
 Imagination is not thought, neither is fancy reflection : 
 
 Thought paceth like a hoary sage, but imagination hath wings as 
 
 an eagle ; 
 Reflection sternly considereth, nor is sparing to condemn evil, 
 But fancy lightly laugheth, in the sun-clad gardens of amusement. 
 For the shy game of the fowler the quickest shot is the surest : 
 But with slow care and measured aim the gunner pointeth his 
 
 cannon : 
 So for all less occasions, the surface-thought is best, 
 But to be master of the great take thou heavier metal. 
 It is a good thing, and a wholesome, to search out bosom sins, 
 But to be the hero of selfish imaginings, is the subtle poison oi 
 
 pride : 
 At night, in the stillness of thy chamber, guard and curb thy 
 
 thoughts, 
 And in recounting the doings of the day, beware that thou do it 
 
 with prayer. 
 Or thinking will be an idle pleasure, and retrospect yield no 
 
 fruit. 
 Steer the bark of thy mind from the syren isle of reverie, 
 And let a watchful spirit mingle with the glance of recollection : 
 Also, in examining thine heart, in sounding the fountain of thine 
 
 actions, 
 Be more careful of the evil than of the good ; and humble thyself 
 
 in thy sin. 
 
 The root of all wholesome thought is knowledge of thyself, 
 For thus only canst thou learn the character of God toward thee. 
 He made thee, and thou art ; he redeemed thee, and thou wilt be ; 
 Thou art evil, yet he loveth thee : thou sinnest, yet he pardoneth 
 
 thee. 
 Though thou canst not perceive him, yet is he in all his works, 
 Infinite in grand outline, infinite in minute perfection : 
 Nature is the chart of God, mapping out all his attributes ; 
 Art is the shadow of his wisdom, and copieth his resources. 
 Thou knowest the laws of matter to be emanations of his ^\■il], 
 
 ■^
 
 ^- 
 
 78 OF 'rniNKhXG. 
 
 And thy best reason for aught is this, — thou, Lord, wouldst have 
 
 it so. 
 Yea, what is any law but an absolute decree of God ? 
 Or the properties of matter and mind, but the arbitrary fiats of 
 
 Jehovah ? 
 He made and ordained necessity; he forged the chain of reason ; 
 And holdeth in his own right hand the first of the golden links. 
 A fool regardeth mind as the spiritual essence of matter, 
 And not rather matter as the gross accident of mind. 
 Can finite govern infinite, or a part exxeed the whole, 
 Or the wisdom of God sit down at the feet of innate necessity? 
 Necessity is a creature of his hand : for he can never change ; 
 And chance hath no existence where everything is needful. 
 
 Canst thou measure Omnipotence, canst thou conceive Ubiquity, 
 Which guideth the meanest reptile, and quickeneth the brightest 
 
 seraph, 
 Which steereth the particle of dust, and commandeth the path of 
 
 the comet ? 
 To Him all tilings are equal, for all things are necessary : 
 Tlie smith was weary at his forge, and welded the metal carelessly. 
 And the anchor breaketh in its bed ; and the vessel founderetli 
 
 with her crew : 
 A word of anger is muttered, engendering the midnight murder ; 
 The sun bursteth from a cloud, and maddeneth the toiling hus- 
 bandman : 
 Shall these things be, and God not know it? 
 Shall he know, and not be in them? shall he see, and not be 
 
 among them? 
 And how can they be otherwise than as he knoweth ? 
 Truly, the Lord is in all things ; verily, he worketh in all. 
 Think thus, and thy thoughts are firm, ascribing each circumstance 
 
 to Him; 
 Yet know surely, and believe the truth, that God willeth not evil ; 
 For adversities are blessings in disguise, and wickedness the Lord 
 
 abhorreth : 
 That he is in all things is an axiom, and that he is righteous in all; 
 Ascribe holiness to Him, while thou musest on the mystery of sin, 
 For infinite can grasp that, which finite cannot compass. 
 
 In works of art, think justly: what praise canst thou render unto man?
 
 OF THINKING. 79 
 
 I or he made not his own mind, nor is he the source of contrivance. 
 If a cunning workman make an engine that fashioneth curious 
 
 works, 
 Which hath the praise, the machine or its maker, — the engine, or 
 
 he that framed it ? 
 And could he frame it so subtly as to give it a will and freedom, 
 Endow it with complicated powers, and a glorious living soul, 
 Who, while he admireth the wondrous understanding creature, 
 Will not pay deeper homage to the Maker of master minds ? 
 Otherwise, thou art senseless as the pagan, that adoreth his own 
 
 handy-work ; 
 Yea, while thou boastest of thy wisdom, thy mind is as the mind 
 
 of the savage. 
 For he boweth down to his idols, and thou art a worshipper of 
 
 self. 
 Giving to the reasoning machine the credit due to its creator. 
 
 The key-stone of thy mind, to give thy thoughts solidity. 
 
 To bind them as in an arch, to fix them as the world in its sphere. 
 
 Is to learn from the book of the Lord, to drink from the well of 
 
 his wisdom. 
 Who can condense the sun, or analyse the fulness of the Bible, 
 So that its ideas be gathered, and the harvest of its wisdom be 
 
 brought in ? 
 That book is easy to the man who setteth his heart to understand 
 
 it, 
 But to the careless and profane it shall seem the foolishness of 
 
 God ; 
 And it is a delicate test to prove thy moral state ; 
 To the humble disciple it is bread, but a stone to the proud and 
 
 unbelieving : 
 A scorner shall find nothing but the husks, wherewith to feed his 
 
 hunger, 
 But for the soul of the simple, it is plenty of full-ripe wlieat. 
 The Scripture abideth the same, in the sober majesty of truth ; 
 And the differing aspects of its teaching proceed from diversity in 
 
 minds. 
 He that would learn to think may gain that knowledge there ; 
 For the living word, as an angel, standeth at the gate of wisdom, 
 And publisheth. This is the way, walk ye surely in it. 
 Religion taketh by the hand the humble pupil of repentance. 
 
 ■+
 
 4*- 
 
 So OF THINKING. 
 
 And teacheth him lessons of mystery, solving the questions of 
 
 doubt ;   
 She maketli man worthy of himself, of his high prerogative of 
 
 reason, 
 Threadeth all the labyrinths of thought, and leadeth him to his 
 
 God. 
 
 Come hither, child of meditation, upon whose high fair forehead 
 
 Glittereth the star of mind in its unearthly lustre : 
 
 Hast thou nought to tell us of thine airy joys,— 
 
 When, borne on sinewy pinions, strong as the western condor. 
 
 The soul, after soaring for a while round the cloud-capped Andes 
 
 of reflection, 
 Glad in its conscious immortality, leaveth o world behind, 
 To dare at one bold flight the broad Atlantic to another ? 
 Hast thou no secret pangs to whisper common men. 
 No dread of thine own energies, still active day and night, 
 Lest too ecstatic heat sublime thyself away, 
 Or vivid horrors, sharp and clear, madden thy tense fibres ? 
 In half-shaped visions of sleep hast thou not feared thy flittings. 
 Lest reason, like a raking hawk, return not to thy call : 
 Nor waked to work-day life with throbbing head and heart. 
 Nor welcomed early dawn to save thee from unrest ? 
 For the wearied spirit lieth as a fainting maiden. 
 Captive and borne away on the warrior's foam-covered steed, 
 And sinketh down wounded, as a gladiator on the sand, 
 While the keen faulchion of Intellect is cutting through the scab- 
 bard of the brain. 
 Imagination, like a shade wy giant looming on the twilight of the 
 
 Hartz, 
 .Shall overwhelm judgment with affright, and scare him from his 
 
 throne : 
 In a dream thou mayest be mad, and feel the fire within thee ; 
 In a dream thou mayest travel out of self, and see thee with the 
 
 eyes of another ; 
 Or sleep in thine own corpse : or wake as in many bodies ; 
 Or swell, as expanded to infinity ; or shrink, as imprisoned to a 
 
 point ; 
 Or among moss-grown ruins mayest wander with the sullen di* 
 
 embodied, 
 Apd gaze upon their glassy eyes until thy heart blood freeze. 
 
 ^W
 
 OF SPEAKING. 8\ 
 
 Alone must thou stand, O man ! alone at the bar of judgment ; 
 Alone must thou bear thy sentence, alone must thou answer for 
 
 thy deeds : 
 Therefore it is well thou retirest often to secresy and solitude, 
 To feel that thou art accountable separately from thy fellows : 
 For a crowd hideth truth from the eyes, society drowneth thought. 
 And being but one among many, stifleth the chidings of con- 
 science. 
 Solitude bringeth woe to the wicked, for his crimes are told out in 
 
 his ear ; 
 But addeth peace to the good, for the mercies of his God are 
 
 numbered. 
 Thou mayest know if it be well with a man, — loveth he gaiety or 
 
 solitude ? 
 For the troubled river rusheth to the sea, but the calm lake 
 
 slumbereth among the mountains. 
 How dear to the mind of the sage are the thoughts that are bred 
 
 in loneliness ; 
 For there is as it were music at his heart, and he talkcth within 
 
 him as with friends : 
 But guilt maddeneth the brain, and terror glareth in the eye. 
 Where, in his solitary cell, the malefactor wrestleth with remorse. 
 Give me but a lodge in the wilderness, drop me on an island in 
 
 the desert, 
 And thought shall yield me happiness, though I may not increase 
 
 it by imparting : 
 For the soul never slumbereth, but is as the eye of the Eternal, 
 And mind, the breath of God, knoweth not ideal vacuity. 
 At night, after weariness and watching, the body sinketh into sleep, 
 But the mental eye is awake, and thou reasonest in thy dreams : 
 In a dream thou mayest live a lifetime, and all be forgotten in the 
 
 morning ; 
 Even such is life, and so soon perisheth its memory. 
 
 OF SPEAKING. 
 
 Speech is the golden harvest that foUoweth the flowering of 
 
 thought ; 
 Yet oftentimes runneth it to husk, and the grains be withered and 
 
 scanty : 
 
 k 
 
 ^
 
 82 OF SPEAKING. 
 
 Speech is reason's brother, and a kingly prerogative of man, 
 That likeneth him to his Maker, who spake, and it was done : 
 Spirit may mingle with spirit, but sense requireth a symbol ; 
 And speech is the body of a thought, without which it were not 
 
 seen. 
 When thou walkest, musing with thyself, in the green aisles of the 
 
 forest. 
 Utter thy thinkings aloud, that they take a shape and being ; 
 For he that pondereth in silence crowdeth the store-house of his 
 
 mind, 
 And though he hath heaped great riches, yet he is hindered in the 
 
 using. 
 A man that speaketh too little, and thinketh much and deeply, 
 Corrodeth his own heart-strings, and keepeth back good from his 
 
 fellows : 
 A man that speaketh too much, and museth but little and lightly, 
 Wasteth his mind in words, and is counted a fool among men : 
 But thou, when thou hast thought, weave charily the web of 
 
 meditation. 
 And clothe the ideal spirit in the suitable garments of speech. 
 
 Uttered out of time, or concealed In its season, good savoureth of 
 
 evil ; 
 To be secret looketh like guilt, to speak out may breed contention : 
 Often have I known the honest heart, flaming with indignant 
 
 virtue. 
 Provoke unneeded \\ar by its rash ambassador the tongue : 
 Often have I seen the charitable man go so slily on his mission, 
 That those who met him in the twilight, took him for a skulking 
 
 thief : 
 I have heard the zealous youth telling out his holy secrets 
 Before a swinish throng, who mocked him as he spake ; 
 And I considered, his openness was hardening them that mocked, 
 Whereas a judicious keeping back might have won their sj-m- 
 
 pathy : 
 I have judged rashly and harshly the hand, liberal in the dark. 
 Because in the broad daylight, it hath holden it a virtue to be close ; 
 And the silent tongue have I condemned, because reserve hath 
 
 chained it. 
 That it hid, yea from a brother, the kindness it had done by com- 
 forting.
 
 OF SPEAKING. Z^ 
 
 No need to sound a trumpet, hut less to hush a footfall : 
 
 Do thou thy good openly, not as though the doing were a crime. 
 
 Secresy goeth cowled, and Honesty demandeth wherefore ? 
 
 P^or he judgeth, — ^judgeth he not well? — that nothing need be hid 
 
 but guilt. 
 Why should thy good be evil spoken of, through thine unrighteous 
 
 silence? 
 If thou art challenged, speak, and prove the good thou doest. 
 The free example of benevolence, unobtruded, yet unhidden, 
 Sounded in the ears of sloth. Go, and do thou likewise ; 
 And I wot the hypocrite's sin to be of darker dye. 
 Because the good man, fearing, thereby hideth his light : 
 But neither God nor man hath bid thee cloak thy good, 
 When a seasonable M-ord would set thee in thy sphere, that all 
 
 might see thy brightness. 
 Ascribe the honour to thy Lord, but be thou jealous of that 
 
 honour. 
 Nor think it light and worthless, because thou mayest not wear it 
 
 for thyself : 
 Remember, thy grand prerogative is free unshackled utterance, 
 And suffer not the flood-gates of secresy to lock the full river of 
 
 thy speech. 
 
 Come, I will show thee an affliction, unnumbered among this 
 
 world's sorrows, 
 Yet real and wearisome and constant, embittering the cup of life. 
 There be, who can think within themselves, and the fire burneth 
 
 at their heart. 
 And eloquence waiteth at their lips, yet they speak not with their 
 
 tongue : 
 There be, whom zeal quickeneth, or slander stirreth to reply. 
 Or need constraineth to ask, or pity sendeth as her messengers ; 
 But nervous dread and sensitive shame freeze the current of their 
 
 speech ; 
 The mouth is sealed as with lead, a cold weight presseth on the 
 
 heart, 
 The mocking promise of power is once more broken in perform- 
 ance. 
 And they stand impotent of words, travailing with unborn 
 
 thoughts : 
 Courage is cowed at the portal ; wisdom is widowed of utterance : 
 
 ^- 
 
 +
 
 ^ 
 
 04 OF SPEAKING. 
 
 He that went to comfort is pitied ; he that should rebuke, is 
 
 silent : 
 And fools who might listen and learn, stand by to look and 
 
 laugh ; 
 While friends, with kinder eyes, wound deeper by compassion : 
 And thought, finding not a vent, smouldereth, gnawing at the 
 
 heart, 
 And the man sinketh in his sphere, for lack of empty sounds. 
 There be many cares and sorrows thou hast not yet considered. 
 And well may thy soul rejoice in the fair privilege of speech ; 
 For at every turn to want a word, — thou canst not guess that 
 
 want ; 
 It is as lack of breath or bread : life hath no grief more galling. 
 
 Come, I will tell thee of a joy, which the parasites of pleasure 
 have not known, 
 
 Though earth and air and sea have gorged all the appetites of 
 sense. 
 
 Behold, what fire is in his eye, what fei-vour on his cheek ! 
 
 That glorious burst of winged words ! how bound they from his 
 tongue ! 
 
 Tlie full expression of the mighty thought, the strong triumpliant 
 argument. 
 
 The rush of native eloquence, resistless as Niagara, 
 
 The keen demand, the clear reply, the fine poetic image, 
 
 The nice analogy, the clenching fact, the metaphor bold and free. 
 
 The grasp of concentrated intellect wielding the omnipotence of 
 truth. 
 
 The grandeur of his speech in his majesty of mind ! 
 
 Champion of the right, — patriot, or priest, or pleader of the in- 
 nocent cause. 
 
 Upon whose lips the mystic bee hath dropped the honey of per- 
 suasion, 
 
 Whose heart and tongue have been touched, as of old by the live 
 coal from the altar. 
 
 How v/ide the spreading of thy peace, how deep the draught of 
 thy pleasures ! 
 
 To hold the multitude as one, breathing in measured cadence, 
 
 A thousand men with flashing eyes, waiting upon thy will ; 
 
 A thousand hearts kindled by thee with consecrated fire. 
 
 Ten flaming spirituaj hecatombs offered on the mount of God ••
 
 OF READING. 85 
 
 And now a pause, a thrilling pause,— they live but iu thy words,— 
 Thou hast broken the bounds of self, as the Nile at its rising, 
 Thou art expanded into them, one faith, one hope, one spirit. 
 They breathe but in thy breath, their minds are passive unto thine. 
 Thou turnest the key of their love, bending their affections to thy 
 
 purpose. 
 And all, in sympathy with thee, tremble with tumultuous 
 
 emotions : 
 Verily, O man, with truth for thy theme, eloquence shall throne 
 
 thee with archauirels. 
 
 ^ 
 
 OF READING. 
 
 One drachma for a good book, and a thousand talents for a true 
 
 friend ; — 
 So standeth the market, where scarce is ever costly : 
 Yea, were the diamonds of Golconda common as shingles on the 
 
 shore, 
 A ripe apple would ransom kings before a shining stone : 
 And so, were a wholesome book as rare as an honest friend, 
 To choose the book be mine : the friend let another take. 
 For altered looks and jealousies and fears have none entrance 
 
 there : 
 The silent volume listeneth well, and speaketh when thou listest : 
 It praiseth thy good without envy, it chideth thine evil without 
 
 malice. 
 It is to thee thy waiting slave, and thine unbending teacher. 
 Need to humour no caprice, need to bear with no infirmity ; 
 Thy sin, thy slander, or neglect, chilleth not, quencheth not, its 
 
 love : 
 Unalterably speaketh it the truth, warped nor by error nor 
 
 interest ; 
 For a good book is the best of friends, the same to-day and fur 
 
 ever. 
 
 To draw thee out of self, thy petty plans and cautions. 
 
 To teach thee what thou lackest, to tell thee how largely thou art 
 
 blest, 
 To lure thy thought from sorrow, to feed thy famished mind, 
 To graft another's wisdom on thee, pruning thine own folly,
 
 ^ 
 
 86 OF READING. 
 
 Choose discreetly, and well digest, the volume most suited to thy 
 case, 
 
 Touching not religion with levity, nor deep things when thou art 
 wearied. 
 
 Thy mind is freshened by morning air, grapple with science and 
 philosophy ; 
 
 Noon hath unnerved thy thoughts, dream for a wliile on fictions : 
 
 Grey evening sobereth thy spirit, walk thou then with worship- 
 pers : 
 
 But reason shall dig deepest in the night, and fancy fly most free. 
 
 O books, ye monuments of mind, concrete wisdom of the wisest ; 
 Sweet solaces of daily life ; proofs and results of immortality ; 
 Trees yielding all fruits, whose leaves are for the healing of the 
 
 nations ; 
 Groves of knowledge, where all may eat, nor fear a ilaming 
 
 sword : 
 Gentle comrades, kind advisers ; friends, comforts, treasures^'; 
 Helps, governments, diversities of tongues ; who can weigh your 
 
 worth ? — 
 To walk no longer with the just ; to be driven from the porch oi 
 
 science ; 
 To bid long adieu to those intimate ones, poets, philosophers, and 
 
 teachers ; 
 To see no record of the sympathies which bind thee in communion 
 
 with the good ; 
 To be thrust from the feet of Him who spake as never man spake ; 
 To have no avenue to heaven but the dim aisle of superstition ; 
 To live as an Esquimaux, in lethargy ; to die as the Mohawk, in 
 
 ignorance : 
 O what were life, but a blank? what were death, but a terror? 
 What were man, but a burden to himself? what were mind, but 
 
 misery ? 
 Yea, let another Omar burn the full library of knowledge. 
 And the broad world may perish in the flames, offered on tlie 
 
 ashes of its wisdom ! 
 
 ^
 
 OF WRITING. 87 
 
 OF WRITING. 
 The pen of a ready writer, whereunto shall it be likened? 
 Ask of the scholar, he shall know, — to the chains that bind a 
 
 Proteus : 
 Ask of the poet, he shall say, — to the sun, the lamp of heaven : 
 Ask of thy neighbour, he can answer, — to the friend that teiletii 
 
 my thought : 
 The merchant considereth it well, as a ship freighted with wares ; 
 The divine holdeth it a miracle, giving utterance to the dumb. 
 It fixeth, expoundeth, and disseminateth sentiment ; 
 Chaining up a thought, clearing it of mystery, and sending it 
 
 bright into the world. 
 To think rightly is of knowledge ; to speak fluently, is of nature ; 
 To read with pi'ofit, is of care ; but to write aptly, is of practice. 
 No talent among men hath more scholars, and fewer masters ; 
 For to write is to speak beyond hearing, and none stand by to 
 
 explain. 
 To be accurate, write ; to remember, write ; to know thine own 
 
 mind, write ; 
 And a written prayer is a prayer of faith : special, sure, and to be 
 
 answered. 
 Hast thou a thought upon thy brain, catch it while thou canst ; 
 Or other thoughts shall settle there, and this shall soon take wing : 
 Thine uncompounded. unity of soul, which arguetli and maketh it 
 
 immortal, 
 Yieldeth up its momentaiy self to every single thought ; 
 Therefore, to husband thine ideas, and give them stability and 
 
 substance. 
 Write often for ihy secret eye ; so shalt thou grow wiser. 
 The commonest mind is full of thoughts ; some worthy of the 
 
 rarest : 
 And could it see them fairly writ, would wonder at its wealth. 
 
 O precious compensation to the dumb, to write his wants and 
 
 wishes ; 
 O dear amends to the stammering tongue, to pen his burning 
 
 thoughts ! 
 To be of the college of Eloquence, through these silent symbols ; 
 To pour out all the flowing mind without the toil of speech ; 
 To show the babbling world how it might discourse more sweetly ;
 
 
 
 ■4 
 
 .^iy 
 
 6S 07'' WRITING. 
 
 To prove that merchandize of words bringeth no monopoly of 
 
 wisdom ; 
 To take sweet vengeance on a prating crew, for the tongue's 
 
 dishonour, 
 Uy the large triumph of the pen, the homage rendered to a 
 
 writing. 
 With such, that telegraph of mind is dearer than wealth or 
 
 wisdom. 
 Enabling to please without pain, to impart without humiliation. 
 
 Fair girl, whose eye hath caught the rustic penmanship of love, 
 Let thy bright brow and blushing cheek confess in this sweet 
 
 hour, — 
 Let thy full heart, poor guilty one, whom the scroll of pardon hath 
 
 just reached, — 
 Thy wet glad face, O mother, with news of a far-off child, — 
 Thy strong and manly delight, pilgrim of other shores, 
 When the dear voice of thy betrothed speaketh in the letter of 
 
 affection, — 
 Let the young poet, exulting in his lay, and hope (how false) of 
 
 fame, 
 While watching at deep midnight, he buildeth up the verse, — 
 Let the calm child of genius, whose name shall never die. 
 For that the transcript of his mind hath made his thoughts 
 
 immortal, — 
 Let these, let all, with no faint praise, with no light gratitude, 
 
 confess 
 The blessings poured upon the earth from the pen of a ready 
 
 writer. 
 
 Moreover, their preciousness in absence is proved l^y the desire of 
 
 their presence : 
 When the despairing lover waiteth day after day. 
 Looking for 9 word in reply, one word writ by that hand. 
 And cursing bitterly the morn ushered in by blank disappoint- 
 ment : 
 Or when the long-looked-for answer argueth a cooling friend. 
 And the mind is plied suspiciously with dark inexplicable doubts. 
 While thy wounded heart counteth its imaginary scars. 
 And thou art the innocent and injured, that friend the capricious 
 and in fault : 
 
 A
 
 OF WEALTH. bg 
 
 Or when the earnest petition, that craveth for thy needs, 
 Unheeded, yea, luiopened, tortureth with starving delay : 
 Or when the silence of a son, who would have written of his wel- 
 fare, 
 Racketh a father's bosom with sharp-cutting fears. 
 Yox a letter, timely writ, is a rivet to the chain of affection, 
 And a letter, untimely delayed, is as rust to the solder. 
 The pen, flowing with love, or dipped black in hate, 
 Or tipped with delicate courtesies, or harshly edged with censure. 
 Hath quickened more good than the sun, more evil than the 
 
 sword. 
 More joy than woman's smile, more woe than frowning fortune ; 
 And shouldst thou ask my judgment of that which hath most 
 
 profit in the world. 
 For answer take thou this. The prudent penning of a letter. 
 
 Thou hast not lost an hour, whereof there is a record ; 
 A written thought at midnight shall redeem the livelong day. 
 Idea is as a shadow that departeth, speech is fleeting as the wind, 
 Reading is an unremembered pastime ; but a writing is eternal : 
 For therein the dead heart liveth, the clay-cold tongue is eloquent, 
 And the quick eye of the reader is cleared by the reed of the 
 
 scribe. 
 As a fossil in the rock, or a coin in the mortar of a ruin, 
 So the symboUed thoughts tell of a departed soul : 
 The plastic hand hath its witness in a statue, and exactitude of 
 
 vision in a picture. 
 And so, the mind that was among us, in its writings is embalmed. 
 
 -4^ 
 
 I- 
 
 OF WEALTH. 
 
 Prodigality hath a sister Meanness, his fixed antagonist 
 
 heart-fellow 
 Who often outliveth the short career of the brother she despiseth .- 
 She hath lean lips and a sharp look, and her eyes are red and 
 
 hungry ; 
 But he sloucheth in his gait, and his mouth speaketh loosely and 
 
 maudlin. 
 Let a spendthrift grow to be old, he will set his heart on saving. 
 
 ■^
 
 qo OF WEALTH. 
 
 And labour to build up by penury that which extravagance r'nrew 
 
 down : 
 Even so, with most men, do riches earn themselves a double 
 
 curse ; 
 They are ill-got by tight dealing : they are ill-spent by loose 
 
 squandering. 
 Give me enough, saith Wisdom ; — for he feareth to ask for more ; 
 And that by the sweat of my brow, addeth stout-hearted Inde- 
 pendence : 
 Give me enough, and not less, for want is leagued with the 
 
 tempter ; 
 Poverty shall make u man desperate, and hurry him ruthless into 
 
 crime : 
 Give me enough, and not more, saving for the children of distress ; 
 Wealth ofttimes killeth, where want but hindereth the budding : 
 There is green glad summer near the pole, though brief and after 
 
 long winter, 
 But the burnt breasts of the torrid zone yield never kindly nourish- 
 ment. 
 Wouldst thou be poor, scatter to the rich, — and reap the tares of 
 
 ingratitude ; 
 Wouldst thou be rich, give unto the poor ;— thou shall have thine 
 
 own with usury : 
 For the secret hand of Providence prospereth the charitable all 
 
 ways, 
 Good luck shall he have in his pursuits, and his heart shall be glad 
 
 within him ; 
 Yet perchance he never shall perceive, that, even as to earthly 
 
 gains. 
 The cause of his weal, as of his joy, hath been small givings to the 
 
 poor. 
 
 In the plain of Benares is there found a root that fathereth a forest, 
 Where round the parent banian-tree drop its living scions ; 
 Thirstily they strain to the earth, like stalactites in a grotto, 
 And strike broad roots, and branch again, lengthening their cool 
 
 arcades : 
 And the dervish madly danceth there, and the faquir is torturing 
 
 his flesh, 
 And the calm brahmin worshippeth the sleek and pampered bull ; 
 At the base lean jackalk coil, while from above depending
 
 
 OF WEALTH. 91 
 
 With dull malignant stare watcheth the branch-like boa. 
 
 Even so, in man's heart is a sin that is the root of all evil ; 
 
 Whose fibres strangle the affections, whose branches overgrow the 
 mind : 
 
 And oftenest beneath its shadow thou shalt meet distorted piety,— 
 
 The clenched and rigid fist, with the eyes upturned to heaven, 
 
 Fanatic zeal with miserly severity, a mixture of gain with godli- 
 ness, 
 
 And him, against whom passion hath no power, kneeling to a 
 golden calf: 
 
 The hungry hounds of extortion are there, the bond, and the mort- 
 gage, and the writ, 
 
 While the appetite for gold, unslumbering, watcheth to glut its 
 maw : — 
 
 And the heart, so tenanted and shaded, is cold to all things else ; 
 
 It seeth not the sunshine of heaven, nor is warmed by the light of 
 charity. 
 
 For covetousness disbelieveth God, and laugheth at the rights of 
 
 men ; 
 Spurring unto theft and lying, and tempting to the poison and the 
 
 knife ; 
 It sundereth the bonds of love, and quickeneth the flames of hate ; 
 A curse that shall wither the brain, and case the heart A\ith iron. 
 Content is the true riches, for without it there is no satisfying. 
 But a ravenous all-devouring hunger gnaweth the vitals of the 
 
 soul. 
 The wise man knoweth where to stop, as he runneth in the race of 
 
 fortune, 
 For experience of old hath taught him, that happiness lingereth 
 
 midway ; 
 And many in hot pursuit have hasted to the goal of wealth, 
 But have lost, as they ran, those apples of gold, — the mind and 
 
 the power to enjoy it. 
 
 There is no greater evil among men than a testament framed with 
 
 injustice : 
 Where caprice hath guided the boon, or dishonesty refused \\ hat 
 
 was due. 
 Generous is the robber on the highway, in the open daring of his 
 
 guilt, 
 
 ^
 
 92 OF WEALTH. 
 
 To the secret coward, whose malice liveth and harmeth after him ; 
 Who smootlily sank into the tomb, with tlie smile of fraud upon 
 
 his face, 
 And the last black deed of his existence was injury without redress: 
 For deaf is the ear of the dead, and can hear no palliating reasons ; 
 The smiter is not among the living, and Right pleadeth but in 
 
 vain. 
 Yet shall the curse of the oppressed be as blight upon the grave of 
 
 the unjust ; 
 Yea, bitterly shall that hand-writing testify against him at the 
 
 judgment. 
 T saw the humble relation that tended the peevishness of wealth, 
 And ministered, with kind hand, to the wailings of disease and 
 
 discontent : 
 I noted how watchfulness and care were feeding on the marrow of 
 
 her youth, 
 How heavy was the yoke of dependence, loaded by petty tyranny ; 
 Yet I heard the frequent suggestion, — It can be but a little longer, 
 Patience and mute submission shall one day reap a rich reward. 
 So, tacitly enduring much, waited that humble fiiend, 
 Putting off the lover of her youth until the dawn of wealth : 
 And it came, that day of release, and the freed heart could not 
 
 sorrow, 
 P'or now were the years of promise to yield their golden harvest : 
 Hope, so long deferred, sickly sparkled in her eye. 
 The miserable past was forgotten, as she looked for the happier 
 
 future, 
 And she checked, as unworthy and ungrateful, the dark suspicious 
 
 thought 
 That perchance her right had been the safer, if not left alone with 
 
 honour : 
 But, alas, the sad knowledge soon came, that her stern task- 
 master's will 
 Hath rewarded her toil with a jibe, her patience with utter desti- 
 tution !— 
 Shall not the scourge of justice lash that cruel coward. 
 Who mingled the gall of ingratitude with the bitterness of dis- 
 appointment ? 
 Shall not the hate of men, and vengeance, fiercely pursuing. 
 Hunt down the wretched being that sinneth in his grave? 
 He fancied his idol self safe from the wrath of his fellows,
 
 OF WEALTH. 93 
 
 But Hades rose as he came in, to point at liim the finger of scorn ; 
 And again must he meet tliat orphan-maid to answer her face to face, 
 And her wrongs shall cling around his neck, to hinder him from 
 
 rising with the just : 
 For his last most solemn act hath linked his name willi liar, 
 And the crime of Ananias is branded on his brow ! 
 
 A good man commendeth his cause to the one great Patron of 
 innocence, 
 
 Convinced of justice at the last, and sure of good meanwhile. 
 
 He knoweth he hath a Guardian, wise and kind and strong, 
 
 And can thank Him for giving, or refusing, the trust or the curse 
 of riches : 
 
 His confidence standetli as a rock ; he dreadeth not malice nor 
 caprice, 
 
 Nor the whisperings of artful men, nor envious secret influence ; 
 
 He scorneth servile compromise, and the pliant mouthings of 
 deceit ; 
 
 He maketh not a show of love where he cannot concede esteem ; 
 
 He regardeth ill-got wealth, as the root most fruitful of wretched- 
 ness, 
 
 So he walketh in straight integrity, leaning on God and his right. 
 
 No gain, but by its price : labour, for the poor man's meal, 
 Ofttimes heart-sickening toil, to win him a morsel for his hunger : 
 Labour, for the chapman at his trade, a dull unvaried round, 
 Year after year, unto death ; yea, what a weariness is it ! 
 Labour, for the pale-faced scribe, drudging at his hated desk, 
 Who bartereth for needful pittance the untold gold of health ; 
 Labour, with fear, for the merchant, whose hopes are ventured on 
 
 the sea ; 
 Labour, with care, for the man of law, responsible in his gains ; 
 Labour, with envy and annoyance, where strangers will thee 
 
 wealth ; 
 Labour, with indolence and gloom, where wealth falleth from a 
 
 father ; 
 Labour unto all, whether aching thews, or aching head, or 
 
 spirit, — 
 The curse on the sons of men, in all their states, is labour. 
 Nevertheless, to the diligent, labour bringeth blessing : 
 The thought of duty sweeteneth toil, and travail is as pleasure ; 
 
 $■- 
 
 ■#
 
 ^ 
 
 54 OF INVENTION. 
 
 And time spent in doing hath a comfort that is not for the idle, 
 The hardship is transmuted into joy by the dear alchemy of 
 
 Mercy. 
 Labour is good for a man, bracing up his energies to conquest, 
 And without it life is dull, the man perceiving himself useless : 
 For wearily the body gi-oaneth, like a door on rusty hinges, 
 And the grasp of the mind is weakened, as the talons of a caged 
 
 vulture. 
 Wealth hath never given happiness, but often hastened misery : 
 Enough hath never caused misery, but often quickened happiness : 
 Enough is less than thy thought, O pampered creature of society, 
 And he that hath more than enough, is a thief of the rights of his 
 
 brother. 
 
 +■ 
 
 OF INVENTION. 
 
 Man is proud of his mind, boasting that it giveth him divinity, 
 
 Yet with all its powers can it originate nothing ; 
 
 For the great God into all his works hath largely poured out 
 
 Himself, 
 Saving one special property, the grand prerogative,— Creation. 
 To improve and expand is ours, as well as to limit and defeat ; 
 But to create a thought or a thing is hopeless and impossible. 
 Can a man make matter ? — and yet this would-be god 
 Thinketh to make mind, and form original idea : 
 The potter must have his clay, and the mason his quarry, 
 And mind must drain ideas from everything around it. 
 Doth the soil generate herbs, or the torrid air breed flies, 
 Or the water frame its monads, or the mist its swarming blight?— 
 Mediately, through thousand generations, having seed within 
 
 themselves, 
 All things, rare or gross, own one common Father. 
 Truly spake Wisdom, There is nothing new under the sun : 
 We only arrange and combine the ancient elements of all things. 
 Invention is activity of mind, as fire is air in motion ; 
 A sharpening of the spiritual sight, to discern hidden aptitudes : 
 From the basket and acanthus, is modelled the graceful capital ; 
 The shadowed profile on the wall helpeth the limner to his 
 
 likeness ; 
 The footmark?, stamped in clay, lead on the thoughts to printing ;
 
 OF INVENTION, 95 
 
 The strange skin garments cast upon the shore suggest another 
 
 hemisphere : 
 A falling apple taught the sage pervading gravitation ; 
 The Huron is certain of his prey, from tracks upon the grass ; 
 And shrewdness, guessing out the hint, followeth on the trail : 
 But the hint must be given, the trail must be there, or the keenest 
 
 sight is as blindness. 
 
 Behold the barren reef, which an earthquake hath just left dry ; 
 It hath no beauty to boast of, no harvest of fair fruits : 
 But soon the lichen fixeth there, and, dying, diggeth its own grave. 
 And softening suns and splitting frosts crumble the reluctant 
 
 surface ; 
 And cormorants roost there, and the snail addeth its slime, 
 And efts, with muddy feet, bring their welcome tribute ; 
 And the sea casteth out her dead, wrapped in a shroud of weeds ; 
 And orderly nature arrangeth again the disunited atoms ; 
 Anon, the cold smooth stone is warm with feathery grass, 
 And the light sporules of the fern are dropped by the passing 
 
 wind. 
 The wood-pigeon, on swift wing, leaveth its crop-full of grain, 
 The squirrel's jealous care planteth the fir-cone and the filbert : 
 Years pass, and the sterile rock is rank with tangled herbage ; 
 The wild-vine clingeth to the briar, and ivy runneth green among 
 
 the corn, 
 Lordly beeches are studded on the down, and willows crowd 
 
 arouiid the rivulet, 
 And the tall pine and hazel-thicket shade the rambling hunter. 
 Shall the rock boast of its fertility? shall it lift the head in 
 
 pride ? — 
 Shall the mind of man be vain of the harvest of its thoughts ? 
 The savage is that rock ; and a million chances from without. 
 By little and little acting on the mind, heap up the hotbed of 
 
 society ; 
 And the soul, fed and fattened on the thoughts and things around 
 
 it, 
 Groweth to perfection, full of fruit, the fruit of foreign seeds : 
 For we learn upon a hint, we find upon a clue. 
 We yield an hundred-fold ; but the great sower is Analogy. 
 There must be an acrid sloe before a luscious peach, 
 A boll of rotting flax before the bridal veil. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■^
 
 r 
 
 96 OF RIDICULE. 
 
 An egg before an eagle, a thought before a thing, 
 A spark struck into tinder to light the lamp of knowledge, 
 A slight suggestive nod to guide the watching mind, 
 A half-seen hand upon the wall, pointing to the balance of Com- 
 parison. 
 By culture man may do all things, short of the miracle, — Crea- 
 tion ; 
 Here is the limit of thy power, — here let thy pride be stayed : 
 The soil may be rich, and the mind may be active, but neither 
 
 yield unsown ; 
 The eye cannot make light, nor the mind make spirit : 
 Therefore it is wise in man to name all novelty invention ; 
 For it is to find out things that are, not to create the unexisting : 
 It is to cling to contiguities, to be keen in catching likeness, 
 And with energetic elasticity to leap the gulfs of contrast. 
 The globe knoweth not increase, either of matter or spirit ; 
 Atoms and thoughts are used again, mixing in varied combina- 
 tions ; 
 And though, by moulding them anew, thou makest them thine 
 
 own, 
 Yet have they served thousands, and all their merit is of God. 
 
 #" 
 
 OF RIDICULE. 
 
 .Seams of thought for the sage's brow, and laughing lines for the 
 fool's face ; 
 
 For all things leave their track in the mind ; and the glass of the 
 mind is faithful. 
 
 Seest thou much mirth upon the cheek ? there is then little exer- 
 cise of virtue ; 
 
 For he that looketh on the world, cannot be glad and good : 
 
 Seest thou much gravity in the eye ? be not assured of finding 
 wisdom ; 
 
 For she hath too great praise, not to get many mimics. 
 
 There is a grave-faced folly; and verily, a laughter-loving 
 wisdom ; 
 
 And what, if surface-judges account it vain frivolity ? 
 
 Tliere is indeed an evil in excess, and a field may lie fallow too 
 long; 
 
 ■^
 
 i. — JL 
 
 OF RIDICULE. 97 *^ 
 
 Yet merriment is often as a fioth, that mantleth on the strong 
 
 mind : 
 And note tliou this for a verity, — tlie subtlest thinl<er when alone, 
 From ease of thoughts unbent, will laugh the loudest with hi< 
 
 fellows : 
 And well is the loveliness of wisdom mirrored in a cheerful coun^ 
 
 tenance, 
 Justly the deepest pools are proved by dimpling eddies ; 
 For that, a true philosophy commandeth an innocent life, 
 And the unguilty spirit is lighter than a linnet's heart : 
 Yea, there is no cosmetic like a holy conscience ; 
 The eye is bright with trust, the cheek bloomed over with affec 
 
 tion, 
 The brow unwrinkled by a care, and the lip triumphant in its 
 
 gladness. 
 
 And for yon grave-faced folly, need not far to look for her ; 
 
 How seriously on trifles dote those leaden eyes, 
 
 I low ruefully she sigheth after chances long gone liy, 
 
 n ow sulkily she moaneth over evils without cure ! 
 
 I have known a true-born mirth, the child of innocence anA 
 wisdom, 
 
 I have seen a base-born gravity, mingled of ignorance and guilt : 
 
 And again, a base-born mirth, springing out of carelessness and 
 folly, 
 
 And again, a true-born gravity, the product of reflection and right 
 fear. 
 
 The wounded partridge hideth in a furrow, and a stricken con- 
 science would be left alone ; 
 
 But when its breast is healed, it runneth gladly with its fellows : 
 
 Whereas the solitary heron, standing in the sedgy fen, 
 
 Holdeth aloof from the social world, intent on wiles and death. 
 
 Need but of light philosophy to dare the world's dread laugh ; 
 For a little mind courteth notoriety, to illustrate its puny self : 
 But the sneer of a man's own comrades trieth the muscles of 
 
 courage, 
 And to be derided in his home is as a viper in the nest : 
 The laugh of a hooting world hath in it a notion of sublimity, 
 But the tittering private circle stingeth as a hive of wasps. 
 Some have commended ridicule, counting it the test of truth, , 
 
 I.— 2 ^ 
 
 i
 
 9.S OF COMMENDATION. 
 
 ¥ 
 
 -A 
 
 But neither wittily nor wisely ; for truth must prove ridicule : 
 
 Otherwise a blunt bulrush is to pierce the proof armour of argu- 
 ment, 
 
 Because the stolidity of ignorance took it for a barbed shaft. 
 
 Softer is the hide of the rhinoceros, than the heart of deriding 
 unbelief. 
 
 And truth is idler there, than the Bushman's feathered reed : 
 
 A droll conceit parrieth a thrust, that should have hit the con- 
 science. 
 
 And the leering looks of humour tickle the childish mind ; 
 
 For that the matter of a man is mingled most with folly, 
 
 Neither can he long endure the searching gaze of wisdom. 
 
 It is pleasanter to see a laughing cheek than a serious forehead. 
 
 And there liveth not one among a thousand whose idol is not 
 pleasure. 
 
 Ridicule is a weak weapon, when levelled at a strong mind : 
 
 But common men are cowards, and dread an empty laugh. 
 
 Fear a nettle, and touch it tenderly, its poison shall burn thee to 
 the shoulder ; 
 
 But grasp it with a bold hand,— is it not a bundle of myrrh ? 
 
 Betray mean terror of ridicule, thou shalt find fools enough to 
 mock thee ; 
 
 But answer thou their laughter with contempt, and the scoffers 
 will lick thy feet. 
 
 OF COMMENDATION. 
 
 The praise of holy men is a promise of praise from their Master ; 
 
 A fore-running earnest of thy welcome,— Well done, faithful 
 servant ; 
 
 A rich preludious note, that droppeth softly on thine ear, 
 
 To tell thee the chords of thy heart are in tune with the choirs of 
 heaven. 
 
 Yet is it a dangerous hearing, for the sweetness may lull thee into 
 slumber, 
 
 And the cordial quaffed with thirst may generate the fumes of pre- 
 sumption. 
 
 So seek it not for itself, but taste, and go gladly on thy way, 
 
 For the mariner slacketh not his sail, though the sandal-groves of 
 Araby allure him ;
 
 OF COMMEND A TIOX. 99 
 
 And the fragrance of that incense would harm thee, as when, on a 
 summer evening, 
 
 The honied yellow flowers of the broom oppress thy charmed 
 sense : 
 
 And a man hath too much of praise, for he praiseth himself con- 
 tinually ; 
 
 Neither lacketh he at any lime self-commendation or excuse. 
 
 Praise a fool, and slay him ; for the canvas of his vanity is spread ; 
 His bark is shallow in the water, and a sudden gust shall sink it : 
 Praise a wise man, and speed him on his way ; for he carrieth the 
 
 ballast of humility, 
 And is glad when his course is cheered by the sympathy of brethren 
 
 ashore. 
 The praise of a good man is good, for he holdeth up the mirror of 
 
 Truth, 
 That virtue may see her own beauty, and delight in her own fair 
 
 face : 
 The praise of a bad man is evil, for he hideth the deformity of 
 
 Vice, 
 Casting the mantle of a queen around the limbs of a leper. 
 Praise is rebuke to the man whose conscience alloweth it not : 
 And where conscience feeleth it her due, no praise is better than a 
 
 little. 
 He that despiseth the outward appearance, despiseth the esteem 
 
 of his fellows ; 
 And he that overmuch regardeth it, shall earn only their con- 
 tempt : 
 The honest commendation of an equal no one can scorn, and be 
 
 blameless. 
 Yet even that fair fame no one can hunt for, and be honoured : 
 If it come, accept it and be thankful, and be thou humble in 
 
 accepting ; 
 If it tarry, be not thou cast down ; the bee can gather honey out 
 
 of rae ; 
 And is thine aim so low, that the breath of those around thee 
 Can speed thy feathered arrow, or retard its flight ? 
 The child shooteth at a butterfly, but the man's mark is an eagle ; 
 And while his fellows talk, he hath conquered in the clouds. 
 Ally thee to truth and godliness, and use the talents in thy 
 
 charge ; 
 
 ? — 
 
 -#• 
 
 4
 
 loo OF COMMEND A TION. 
 
 So shalt thou walk in peace, deserving, if not having. 
 
 Witli a friend, praise him when thou canst ; for many a friendsliip 
 
 hath decayed, 
 Like a plant in a crowded corner, for want of sunshine on its 
 
 leaves : 
 With another, praise him not often — otherwise he shall despise 
 
 thee ; 
 But be thou frugal in commending ; so will he gise honour to thy 
 
 judgment : 
 For thou that dost so zealously commend, art acknowledging thine 
 
 own inferiority, 
 And he, thou so highly hast exalted, shall proudly look down on 
 
 thy esteem. 
 
 Wilt thou that one remember a thing ?— praise him in the midst of 
 
 thy advice ; 
 Never yet forgat man the word whereby he hath been praised. 
 Better to be censured by a thousand fools, than approved but by 
 
 one man that is wise ; 
 For the pious are slower to help right, than the profane to hinder 
 
 it : 
 So, where the world rebuketh, there look thou for the excellent, 
 And be suspicious of the good, which wicked men can praise. 
 The captain bindeth his troop, not more by severity than kindness, 
 And justly, should recompense well-doing, as M'eil as be strict with 
 
 an offender : 
 The laurel is cheap to the giver, but precious in his sight who hath 
 
 won it, 
 And the heart of the soldier rejoiceth in the approving glance ot 
 
 his chief. 
 Timely-given praise is even better than the merited rebuke of 
 
 censure, 
 For the sun is more needful to the plant than the knife tliat cutteth 
 
 out a canker ; 
 Many a father hath erred, in that he hath withheld reproof, 
 But more have mostly sinned, in withholding praise where it was 
 
 due s 
 There be many such as Eli among men ; but these I'C more cul- 
 pable than Eli, 
 Who chill the fountain of exertion by the freezing looks of 
 
 indifference : 

 
   
 
 OF COMMEND A TION. lov 
 
 Ve call a man easy and good, yet he is as a two-cdgcd sword ; 
 lie icbuketh not vice, and it is strong ; he comforteth not virtue, 
 
 and it fainteth. 
 There is nothing more potent among men than a gift timely 
 
 bestowed ; 
 And a gift kept back where it was hoped, separateth chief friends : 
 For what is a gift but a symbol, givmg substance to praise and 
 
 esteem ? 
 And where is a sharper arrow than the sting of unmerited neglect? 
 
 Expect not praise from the mean, neither gratitude from the 
 
 selfish ; 
 And to keep the proud thy friend, see thou do him not a service : 
 For, behold, he will hate thee for his debt : thou hast humbled 
 
 him by giving ; | 
 
 And his stubbornness never shall acknowledge the good he hath 
 
 taken from thy hand : 
 Yea, rather will lie turn and be thy foe, lest thou gather from his 
 
 friendship \ 
 
 That he doth account thee creditor, and standeth in the second place. 
 Still, O kindly feeling heart, be not thou chilled by the thankless, 
 Neither let the breath of gratitude fan thee into momentary heat : 
 Do good for good's own sake, looking not to worthinesss nor love ; 
 Fling thy grain among the rocks, cast thy bread upon the waters, 
 His claim be strongest to thy help, who is thrown most helplessly 
 
 upon thee, — s 
 
 So shalt thou have a better praise, and reap a richer harvest of 
 
 reward. i 
 
 If a man hold fast to thy creed, ana fit his thinking to thy notions. 
 Thou shalt take him for a man right-minded, yea, and excuse his 
 
 evil : 
 But seest thou not, O bigot, that thy zeal is but a hunting after 
 
 praise, \ 
 
 And the full pleasure of a proselyte Heth in the flattering of self? 
 A man of many praises meeteth many welcomes. 
 
 But he, who blameth often, shall not keep a friend ; \ 
 
 The velvet-coated apricot is one thing, and the spiked horse-ches" 
 
 nut is another, 
 A handle of smooth amber is pleasanter than rough buck-horn. 
 Show me a popular man ; I can tell thee the secret of his pow»r ; 
 
 — - ^'-'"     - ■•■ —^
 
 I02 OF SELF-ACQUAINTANCE, 
 
 He hath soothed them with glozing words, hilling their ears with 
 
 flattery, 
 The smile of seeming approbation is ever the companion of his 
 
 presence, 
 And courteous looks, and warm regards, earn him all their hearts. 
 
 Nothing but may be better, and every better might be best ; 
 
 The blind may discern, and the simple prove, fault or want in all 
 
 things ; 
 And a little mind looketh on the lily with a microscopic eye, 
 Eager and glad to pry out specks on its robe of purity ; 
 But a great mind gazeth on the sun, glorying in his brightness, 
 And taking large knowledge of his good, in the broad prairie of 
 
 creation : 
 What, though he hatch basilisks? what, though spots are on the 
 
 sun ? 
 In fulness is his worth, in fulness be his praise ! 
 
 <k. 
 
 OF SELF-ACQUAINTANCE. 
 
 Knowledge holdeth by the hilt, and heweth out a road to 
 
 conquest ; 
 Ignorance graspeth tlie blade, and is wounded by its own good 
 
 sword : 
 Knowledge distilleth health from the virulence of opposite poisons ; 
 Ignorance mixeth wholesomes unto the breeding of disease : 
 Knowledge is leagued with the universe, and findeth a friend in all 
 
 things ; 
 But ignorance is everywhere a stranger ; unwelcome, ill at ease, 
 
 and out of place. 
 A man is helpless and unsafe up to the measure of his ignorance, 
 For he lacketh perception of the aptitudes commending such a 
 
 matter to his use ; 
 Clutching at the horn of danger, while he judgeth it the handle of 
 
 security. 
 Or casting his anchor so widely, that the granite reef is just within 
 
 the tether. 
 Untaught in science, he is but half alive, stupidly taking note oi 
 
 nothing, 
 Or listening with dull wonder to the crafty saws of an empiric : 
 
 4^
 
 k 
 
 OF SELF ACQUAINTANCE. 103 
 
 Simple in tlie world, he trustetli unto knaves ; and then to make 
 
 amends for folly, 
 Dealeth so shrewdly with the honest, they cannot but suspect him 
 
 for a Uiief : 
 With an unknown God, he maketh mock of reason, fathering con- 
 trivance on chance. 
 Or doting with superstitious dread on some crooked image of his 
 
 fancy : 
 But ignorant of Self, he is weakness at heart ; the keystone 
 
 cnmibleth into sand. 
 There is panic in the general's tent, the oak is hollow as hemlock ; 
 Though the warm sap creepeth up its bark, filling out the sheaf of 
 
 leaves. 
 Though knowledge of all things beside add proofs of seeming 
 
 vigour, 
 Though the master-mind of the royal sage feast on the mysteries of 
 
 wisdom, 
 Yet ignorance of self shall bow down the spirit of a Solomon to 
 
 idols ; 
 The storm of temptation, sweeping by, shall snap that oak like a 
 
 reed. 
 And the proud luxuriance of its tufted crown drag it the sooner to 
 
 the dust. 
 
 Youth, confident in self, tampereth with dangerous dalliance, 
 Till the vice his heart once hated hath locked him. in her foul em- 
 brace : 
 Manhood, through zeal of doing good, seeketh high place for its 
 
 occasions. 
 Unwitting that the bleak mountain air will nip the tender budding 
 
 of his motives : 
 Or painfully, for love of truth, he climbeth the ladder of science. 
 Till pride of intellect heating his heart, warpeth it aside to 
 
 delusion : 
 The maiden, to give shadow to her fairness, plaiteth her raven 
 
 hair. 
 Heedlessly weaving for her soul the silken net of vanity : 
 The grey-beard looketh on his gold, till he loveth its yellow smile, 
 Unconscious of the bright decoy which is luring his heart unto 
 
 avarice : 
 Wrath avoideth no quarrel, jealousy counteth its suspicions, 
 
 ^
 
 #■ 
 
 ^fe- 
 
 104 OF SELF-ACQUAINTANCE. 
 
 Pining envy gazeth still, and melancholy seel-ccth solitude, 
 
 The sensitive broodeth on his slights, the fearful poreth over 
 horrors, 
 
 The train of wantonness is fired, the nerves of indecision are 
 unstrung ; 
 
 Each special proneness unto harm is pampered by ignorant indul- 
 gence, 
 
 And the man, for want of warning, yieldeth to the apt temptation. 
 
 A smith at the loom, and a weaver at the forge, were but sorry 
 
 craftsmen ; 
 And a ship that saileth on every wind never shall reach her port : 
 Yet there be thousands among men who heed not the leaning of 
 
 their talents. 
 But cutting against the grain, toil on to no good end : 
 And the light of a thoughtful spirit is quenched beneath the bushel 
 
 of commerce, 
 While meaner plodding minds are driven up the mountain of 
 
 philosophy : 
 The cedar withereth on a wall, while the house-leek is fattening in 
 
 a hot-bed, 
 And the dock with its rank leaves hideth the sun from violets. 
 To everything a fitting place, a proper honourable use ; 
 The humblest measure of mind is bright in its humble sphere : 
 The glow-worm, creeping in the hedge, lighteth her evening 
 
 torch. 
 And her far-off mate, on gossamer sail, steereth his course by that 
 
 star : 
 Eut ignorance mocketh at proprieties, bringing out the glow-worm 
 
 at noon ; 
 And setteth the faults of mediocrity in the full blaze of wisdom. 
 Ravens croaking in darkness, and a sky-lark trilling to the sun. 
 The voice of a screech-owl from a ruin, and the blackbird's whistle 
 
 in a wood, 
 A cushion-footed camel for the sands, and a swift reindeer for the 
 
 snows, 
 A naked skin for Ethiopia, and rich soft furs for the Pole : 
 In all things is there a fitness : discord with discord hath its 
 
 music ; 
 And the harmony of nature is preserved by each one knowing his 
 
 place.
 
 ■^ 
 
 OF SELF-ACQUAINTANCE. 105 
 
 The blind at an easel, the palsied with a graver, the halt making 
 for the goal, 
 
 The deaf ear tuning psaltery, the stammerer discoursing elo- 
 quence, — 
 
 What wonder if all fail? the shaft flieth wide of the mark 
 
 Alike if itself be crooked, or tlic bow be strung awry ; 
 
 And the mind which were excellent in one way, but foolishly 
 toileth in another, 
 
 What is it but an ill-strung bow, and its aim a crooked arrow ? 
 
 By knowledge of self, thou provest thy powers : put not the racer 
 to the plough. 
 
 Nor goad the toilsome ox to wager his slowness with the fleet : 
 
 Consider thy failings, heed thy propensities, search out thy latent 
 virtues, 
 
 Analyze the doubtful, cultivate the good, and crush the head of 
 evil ; 
 
 So shalt thou catch with quick hand the golden ball of op- 
 portunity, 
 
 The warrior armed shall be ready for the fray, beside his bridled 
 steed ; 
 
 Thou shalt ward off special harms, and have the sway of circum- 
 stance, 
 
 And turn to thy special good the common current of events ; 
 
 Choosing from the wardrobe of the world, thou slialt suitably 
 clothe thy spirit, 
 
 Nor thrust the white hand of peace into the gauntlet of defiance : 
 
 The shepherd shall go with a staff, and conquer by sling and 
 stone ; 
 
 The soldier shall let alone the distaff, and the scribe lay down the 
 sword • 
 
 The man unlearned shall keep silence, and earn one attiibute of 
 wisdom, 
 
 The sage be sparing of his lessons before unhearing ears : 
 
 Calm shalt thou be, as a lion in repose, conscious of passive 
 strength, 
 
 And the shock that splitteth the globe, shall not unthrone thy 
 self-possession. 
 
 Acquaint thee with thyself, O man ! so shalt thou be humble : 
 The hard hot desert of thy heart shall blossom with tlie lily and 
 the rose ; 
 
 h — : '   ^t #- 
 
 i
 
 1 06 OF SELF- A CQ UAINTANCE, 
 
 The frozen cliffs of pride shall melt, as an iceberg in the tropics ; 
 The bitter fountains of self-seeking be sweeter than the waters of 
 
 the Nile. 
 But if thou lack that wisdom, — thy frail skiff is doomed, 
 On stronger eddy whirling to the dreadful gorge ; 
 Untaught in that grand lore, thou standest, cased in steel, 
 To dare with mocking unbelief the thunderbolts of heaven. 
 For look now around thee on the universe, behold how all things 
 
 serve thee ; 
 The teeming soil, and the buoyant sea, and undulating air, 
 Golden crops, and bloomy fruits, and flowers, and precious gems, 
 Choice perfumes and fair sights, soft touches and sweet music : 
 For thee, shoaling up the bay, crowd the finny nations, 
 For thee, the cattle on a thousand hills live, and labour, and die : 
 Light is thy daily slave, darkness inviteth thee to slumber ; 
 Thou art served by the hands of Beauty, and Sublimity kneeleth 
 
 at thy feet : 
 Arise, thou sovereign of creation, and behold thy glory ! 
 Yet more, thou hast a mind ; intellect wingeth thee to heaven, 
 Tendeth thy state on earth, and by it thou divest down to hell ; 
 Thou hast measured the belt of Saturn, thou hast weighed the 
 
 moons of Jupiter, 
 And seen, by reason's eye, the centre of thy globe ; 
 Subtly hast thou numbered by billions the leagues between sun 
 
 and sun. 
 And noted in thy book the coming of their shadows ; 
 With marvellous unerring truth, thou knowest to an inch and to an 
 
 instant, 
 The where and the when of the comet's path that shall seem tc 
 
 rush by at tliy command : 
 Arise, thou king of mind, and survey thy dignity ! 
 Yet more, — for once believe religion's flattering tale ; 
 Thou hast a soul, aye, and a God, — but be not therefore humbled ; 
 Thy Maker's self was glad to live and die — a man ; 
 The brightest jewel in his crown is voluntary manhood ; 
 By deep dishonour, and great price, bought he that en\'ied 
 
 freedom, 
 But thou wast born an heir of all, thy Master scarce could earn. 
 O climax unto pride, O triumph of humanity, 
 O triple crown upon thy brow, most high and mighty Self ! 
 Arise, thou Lord of all, thou greater than a God I —
 
 OF SELF-ACQUAINTANCE. 107 
 
 How saidst lliou, wretched being?— cast thy glance \\\1\\\\\ ; 
 
 Regard that painted sepulchre, the hovel of thy heart : 
 
 Ha ! with what fearful imagery swarmeth that small chamber ; 
 
 The horrid eye of murder, scowling in the dark, 
 
 The bony hand of avarice, filching from the poor. 
 
 The lurid fires of lust, the idiot face of folly, 
 
 The sickening deed of cruelty, the foul fierce orgies of the 
 
 drunken, 
 Weak contemptible vanity, stubborn stolid unbelief, 
 Envy's devilish sneer, and the vile features of ingratitude,— 
 Man, hast thou seen enough ? or are these full proof 
 That thou art a miracle of mercy, and all thy dignity is dross ? 
 
 Well said the wisdom of earth, O mortal, know thyself; 
 
 But better the wisdom of heaven, O man, learn thou thy God : 
 
 By knowledge of self thou art conusant of evil, and mailed in 
 panoply to meet it ; 
 
 By knowledge of God cometh knowledge of good, and universal 
 love is at thy heart. 
 
 Every creature knoweth its capacities, running in the road of in- 
 stinct, 
 
 And reason must not lag behind, but serve itself of all proprieties : 
 
 The swift to the race, and the strong to the burden, and the M-ise 
 for right direction ; 
 
 For self-knowledge filleth with acceptance its niche in the temple 
 of utility : 
 
 But vainly wilt thou look for that knowledge, till the clue of all 
 truth is in thy hand, 
 
 For the labyrinth of man's heart windeth in complicate deceivings : 
 
 Thou canst not sound its depths with the shallow plumb-line of 
 reason, 
 
 Till religion, the pilot of the soul, have lent thee her unfathom- 
 able coil : 
 
 Therefore, for this grand knowledge, and knowledge is the parent 
 of dominion. 
 
 Learn God, thou shalt know thyself; yea, and shalt have mastery 
 of all things. 
 
 -4» 
 
 I-
 
 IT , 
 
 ± 
 
 oS OF CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 
 
 OF CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. 
 Shame upon thee, savage Monarcli man, proud monopolist of 
 
 reason : 
 Shame upon Creation's lord, tlie fierce ensanguined despot : 
 What, man ! are tliere not enough, hunger, and diseaseSj and 
 
 fatigue, — 
 And yet must thy goad or tliy thong add another sorrow to 
 
 existence ? 
 Wliat ! art thou not content thy sin hath dragged down suffering 
 
 and death 
 On the poor dumb servants of thy comfort, and yet must thou 
 
 rack them witli thy spite ? 
 The prodigal heir of creation hath gambled away his all, —   
 Sliall he add torment to the bondage that is galling his forfeit 
 
 serfs ? 
 The leader in nature's prean himself hath marred her psalter}', 
 Shall he multiply the din of discord by overstraining all the 
 
 strings ? 
 The rebel hath fortified his strong-hold, shutting in his vassals 
 
 with him, — 
 Shall he aggravate the woes of the besieged by oppression from 
 
 within ? 
 Thou twice deformed image of thy Maker, thou hateful representa- 
 tive of Love, 
 For very shame be merciful, be kind unto the creatures thou hast 
 
 ruined ; 
 Earth and her million tribes are cursed for thy sake. 
 Earth and her million tribes still writhe beneath thy cruelty : 
 Liveth there but one among the million that shall not bear witness 
 
 against thee, 
 A pensioner of land or air or sea, that hath not whereof it will 
 
 accuse thee ? 
 From the elephant toiling at a launch, to the shrew-mouse in the 
 
 harvest-field, 
 From th.e whale which the harpooner hath stricken, to the 
 
 minnow caught upon a pin. 
 From tlie albatross wearied in its flight, to the wren in her covered 
 
 nest, 
 From the death-moth and lace-winged dragon-fly, to the lady-bird 
 
 and the gnat. 
 
 4'---
 
 OF CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. loq 
 
 The verdict of all things is unanimous, finding their master cruel : 
 The dog, thy humble friend, thy trusting, honest friend ; 
 The ass, thine uncomplaining slave, drudging from morn to even ; 
 The lamb, and the timorous hare, and the labouring ox at plough; 
 The speckled trout, basking in the shallow, and the partridge, 
 
 gleaning in the stubble. 
 And the stag at bay, and the \\ orm in thy path, and the wild bird 
 
 pining in captivity. 
 And all things that minister alike to thy life and thy comfort and 
 
 thy pride, 
 Testify with one sad voice that man is a cruel master. 
 
 Verily, they are all thine : freely mayst thou serve thee of them all: 
 They are thine by gift for thy needs, to be used in all gratitude 
 
 and kindness ; 
 Gratitude to their God and thine,— their Father and thy Father, 
 Kindness to them who toil for thee, and help thee with their all : 
 For meat, but not by wantonness of slaying : for burden, but 
 
 with limits of humanity ; 
 For luxury, but not through torture ; for draught, but according to 
 
 the strength : 
 For a dog cannot plead his own right, nor render a reason for 
 
 exemption. 
 Nor give a soft answer -into wrath, to turn aside the undeserved 
 
 lash ; 
 The galled ox cannot complain, nor supplicate a moment's 
 
 respite ; : 
 
 The spent horse hideth his distress, till he panteth out his spirit at 
 
 the goal ; 
 Also, in the winter of life, when worn by constant toil, 
 If ingratitude forget his services, he cannot bring them to remem- 
 brance ; 
 Behold, he is faint with hunger ; the big tear standeth in his eye ; 
 His skin is sore with stripes, and he tottereth beneath his burden ; 
 His limbs are stiff with age, hl'^ ^mews have lost their vigour. 
 And pain is stamped upon his face, while he wrestleth unequally 
 
 with toil ; 
 Vet once more mutely and meekly endureth he the crushing blow; 
 That struggle hath cracked his heart-strings,— the generous brute 
 
 is dead ! 
 Liveth there no advocate for him? no judge to avenge his wrongs ? 
 
 •^
 
 no OF FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 No voice that shall be heard in his defence ? no sentence to be 
 
 passed on his oppressor ? 
 Yea, the sad eye of the tortured pleadeth pathetically for him ; 
 Yea, all the justice in heaven is roused in indignation at his woes ; 
 Yea, all the pity upon earth shall call down a curse upon the 
 
 cruel ; 
 Yea, the burning malice of the wicked is their own exceeding 
 
 punishment. 
 The Angel of Mercy stoppeth not to comfort, but passeth by on 
 
 the other side. 
 And hath no tear to shed, when a cruel man is damned. • 
 
 OF FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 As frost to the bud, and blight to the blossom, even such is self- 
 interest to friendship : 
 For Confidence cannot dwell where Selfishness is porter at the 
 
 gate. 
 If thou see thy friend to be selfish, thou canst not be sure of his 
 
 honesty ; 
 And in seeking thine own weal, thou hast wronged the reliance of 
 
 thy friend. 
 Flattery hideth her varnished face M'hen friendship sitteth at his 
 
 board ; 
 And the door is shut upon suspicion, but candour is bid glad 
 
 welcome : 
 For friendship abhorreth doubt, its life is in mutual trust, 
 And perisheth, when artful praise proveth it is sought for a 
 
 purpose. 
 A man may be good to thee at times, and render thee mighty 
 
 service, 
 V^hom yet thy secret soul could not desire as a friend ; 
 J or the sum of life is in trifles, and though, in the weightier 
 
 masses, 
 A man refuse thee not his purse, nay his all in thine utmost need, 
 Yet if thou canst not feel that his character agreeth with thine 
 
 own, 
 1 hou never wilt call him friend, though thou render him a heartful 
 
 of gratitude. 
 VV A coarse man grindeth harshly the finer feelings of his brother ; 
 
 ^
 
 OF FRIENDSHIP. in 
 
 A common mind will soon depart from the dull companionship of 
 
 wisdom ; 
 A weak soul dareth not to follow in the track of vigour and 
 
 decision ; 
 And the worldly regardeth with scorn the seeming foolishness of 
 
 faith. 
 A mountain is made up of atoms, and friendship of little matters, 
 And if the atoms hold not together, tlie mountain is crumbled 
 
 into dust. 
 
 Come, I will show thee a friend ; I will paint one worthy of thy 
 
 trust : 
 Thine heart shall not weary of him : thou shalt not secretly 
 despise him. 
 
 Thou art long in learning him, in unravelling all his worth ; 
 
 And he dazzleth not thine eyes at first, to be darkened in thy 
 sight afterward. 
 
 But riseth from small beginnings, and reacheth the height of thine 
 esteem. 
 
 He remembereth that thou art only man ; he expecteth not great 
 things fronr thee ; 
 
 And his forbearance toward thee silently teacheth thee to be con- 
 siderate unto him. 
 
 He despiseth not courtesy of manner, nor neglecteth the decencies 
 of life ; 
 
 Nor mocketh the failings of others, nor is harsh in his censures 
 before thee : 
 
 For so, how couldst thou tell, if he talketh not of thee in 
 ridicule? 
 
 He withholdeth no secret from thee, and rejecteth not thine in 
 turn ; 
 
 He shareth his joys with thee, and is glad to bear part in thy 
 sorrows. 
 
 Yet one thing, he loveth thee too well to show thee the corrup- 
 tions of his heart : 
 
 For as an ill example strengtheneth the hands of the wicked, 
 
 So to put forward thy guilt, is a secret poison to thy friend : 
 
 For the evil in his nature is comforted, and he warreth more 
 weakly against it, 
 
 If he find that the friend whom he honoureth, is a man more sinful 
 than himself. 
 
 ■^
 
 112 OF FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 I hear the communing of friends ; ye speak out the fulness of 
 
 your souls, 
 And being but men, as men, ye own to all the sympathies of 
 
 manhood : 
 Confidence openeth the lips, indulgence beameth from the eye, 
 The tongue loveth not boasting, the heart is made glad wilh 
 
 kindness : 
 And one standeth not as on a hill, beckoning to the other to 
 
 follow. 
 But ye toil up hand in hand, and carry each other's burdens. 
 Ye commune of hopes and aspirations, the fervent breathings of 
 
 the heart, 
 Ye speak with pleasant interchange the treasured secrets of 
 
 affection, 
 Ye listen to the voice of complaint, and whisper the language of 
 
 comfort. 
 And as in a double solitude, ye think in each other's hearing. 
 
 Choose thy friend discreetly, and see thou consider his sta- 
 tion, 
 For the graduated scale of ranks accordeth with the ordinance of 
 
 heaven : 
 If a low companion ripen to a friend, in the full sunshine of thy 
 
 confidence, 
 Know, that for old age thou hast heaped up sorrow : 
 For thou sinkest to that level, and thy kin shall scorn thee. 
 Yea, and the menial thou hast pampered haply shall neglect thee 
 
 in thy death ; 
 And if thou reachest up to high estates, thinking to herd with 
 
 princes. 
 What art thou but a footstool, though so near a throne ? 
 O rush among the lilies, be taught thou art a weed, 
 O briar among the cedars, hot contempt shall burn thee. 
 But thou, friend and scholar, select from thine own caste. 
 And make not an intimate of one, thy servant or thy master ; 
 For only friendship among men is the true republic, 
 Where all have equality of service, and all have freedom of com- 
 mand. 
 And yet, if thou wilt take my judgment, be shy of too much 
 openness with any, 
 ■Af Lest thou repent hereafter, should he turn and rend thee : 
 
 ^ 
 
 4.
 
 OF FRIENDSHIP. 1 1 3 
 
 For many an apostate fiiend hath abused unguarded confidence. 
 And bent to selfish ends the secret of the soul. 
 
 Absence strengtheneth friendship, where the last recollections were 
 
 kindly ; 
 But it must be good wine at the last, or absence shall weaken it 
 
 daily. 
 A rare thing is faith, and friendship is a marvel among men, 
 Yet strange faces call they friends, and say they believe when they 
 
 doubt. 
 Those hours are not lost that are spent in cementing affection ; 
 For a friend is above gold, precious as the stores of the mind. 
 Be sparing of advice by words, but teach thy lesson by example : 
 For the vanity of man may be wounded, and retort unkindly upon 
 
 thee. 
 There be some that never had a friend, because they were gross 
 
 and selfish ; 
 Worldliness, and apathy, and pride, leave not many that are 
 
 worthy : 
 But one who meriteth esteem, need never lack a friend : 
 For as thistledown flieth abroad, and casteth its anchor in the soil 
 So philanthropy yearneth for a heart, where it may take root and 
 
 blossom. 
 
 Yet I hear the child of sensibility moaning at the wintry cold, 
 Wherein the mists of selfishness have wrapped the society of 
 
 men : 
 He grieveth, and hath deep reasons ; for falsehood hath wronged 
 
 his trust, 
 And the breaches in his bleeding heart have been filled with the 
 
 briars of suspicion. 
 For, alas, how few be friends, of whom charity hath hoped well ! 
 How few there be among men who forget themselves for other ! y 
 Each one seeketh his own, and looketh on his brethren as rivals, 
 Masking envy with friendship, to serve his secret ends ; 
 And the world, that corrupteth all good, hath wronged that sacred 
 
 name, 
 For it calleth any man friend, who is not known for an enemy ; 
 And such be as the flies of summer, while plenty sittelh at thy 
 
 board ; 
 But who can wonder at their flight from the cold denials of want? 
 
 H 

 
 
 1 14 OF LOVE. 
 
 Such be as vultures round a carcase assembled together for the 
 feast ; 
 
 But a sudden noise scareth them, and forthwith are they specks 
 among the clouds. 
 
 There be few, O child of sensibility, who deserve to have thy con- 
 fidence ; 
 
 Yet weep not, for there are some, and such some live for thee : 
 
 To them is the chilling world a drear and barren scene, 
 
 And gladly seek they such as thou art, for seldom find they the 
 occasion : 
 
 For, though no man excludeth himself from the high capability of 
 friendship, 
 
 Vet verily the man is a marvel whom truth can write a friend. 
 
 OF LOVE. 
 
 TiTERE is a fragrant blossom, that maketh glad the garden of the 
 
 heart ; 
 Its root lieth deep : it is delicate, yet lasting, as the lilac crocus of 
 
 autumn : 
 Loneliness and thought are the dews that water it morn and even ; 
 Memory and Absence cherish it, as the balmy breathings of the 
 
 south : 
 Its sun is the brightness of Affection, and it bloometh in the 
 
 borders of Hope ; 
 Its companions are gentle flowers, and the briar withereth liy its 
 
 side. 
 I saw it budding in beauty ; I felt the magic of its smile ; 
 The violet rejoiced beneath it, the rose stooped down and kissed 
 
 it; 
 
 And I thought some cherub had planted there a truant flower of 
 
 Eden, 
 As a bird bringeth foreign seeds, that they may flouris'a in a kindly 
 
 soil. 
 I saw and asked not its name ; I knew no language was so 
 
 wealthy, 
 Though every heart of every clime findeth its echo within. 
 And yet what shall I say? Is a sordid man capable of Love? 
 Hath a seducer known it? Can an adulterer perceive it? 
 Or he that seeketh strange women, can he feel its purity ? 
 
 ■# — A
 
 OF LOVE. 115 
 
 Or he lliat cliangcth often, can he know its truth? 
 
 Longing for anotlier's happiness, yet often destroying its own ; 
 
 Chaste, and looking up to God, as the fountain of tenderness and 
 
 joy ; 
 
 Quiet, yet flowing deep, as the Rhine among rivers ; 
 Lasting, and knowing not change — it walketh with Truth and 
 Sincerity. 
 
 Love : — what a volume in a word, an ocean in a tear, 
 A seventh heaven in a glance, a whirlwind in a sigh, 
 The lightning in a touch, a millenium in a moment, 
 "What concentrated joy or woe in blest or blighted love ! 
 For it is that native poetry springing up indigenous to Wind, 
 The heart's owai- country music thrilling all its chords, 
 The story without an end that angels throng to hear, 
 The word, the king of words, carved on Jehovah's heart ! 
 Go, call thou snake-eyed malice mere)', call envy honest praise, 
 Count selfish craft for wisdom, and coward treachery f(jr prudence, 
 Do homage to blaspheming unbelief as to bold and free philo- 
 sophy. 
 And estimate tlie recklessness of license as the right attribute of 
 
 liberty, — 
 But with the world, thou friend and scholar, stain not this pure 
 
 name ; 
 Nor suffer tlie majesty of Love to be likened to the meanness of 
 
 desire : 
 For love is no more such, than seraphs' hymns are discord. 
 And such is no more Love, than Etna's breath is summer. 
 
 Love is a sweet idolatry enslaving all the soul, 
 
 A mighty spiritual force, warring with the dullness of matter, 
 
 An angel-mind breathed into a mortal, though fallen yet how 
 
 beautiful ! 
 All the devotion of the heart in all its depth and grandeur. 
 Behold that pale geranium, pent within the cottage window ; 
 I low yearningly it stretchcth to the light its sickly long-stalked 
 
 leaves. 
 How it straineth upward to the sun, coveting his sweet influences. 
 How real a living sacrifice to the god of all its worship ! 
 Such is the soul that loveth ; and so the rose-tree of affection 
 Bendcth its every leaf to look on those dear eyes, 
 
 ■#
 
 ^ 
 
 /i6 OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 Its every blushing petal basketh in their light, 
 
 And all its gladness, all its life, is hanging on their love. 
 
 If the love of the heart is blighted, it buddeth not again : 
 If that pleasant song is forgotten, it is to be learnt no more : 
 Yet often will thought look back, and weep over early affection ; 
 And the dim notes of that pleasant song will be heard as a 
 
 reproachful spirit. 
 Moaning in ^olian strains over the desert of the heart, 
 Where the hot siroccos of the world have withered its one oasis. 
 
 ^ 
 
 OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 Seek a good wife of thy God, for she is the best gift of his provi- 
 dence ; 
 Yet ask not in bold confidence that which he hath not promised : 
 Thou knowest not his good will : — be thy prayer then submissive 
 
 thereunto ; 
 And leave thy petition to his mercy, assured that He will deal well 
 
 with thee. 
 If thou art to have a wife of thy ycath, she is now living on the 
 
 earth ; 
 Therefore think of her, and pray for her weal ; yea, though thou 
 
 hast not seen her. 
 They that love early become like-minded and the tempter toucheth 
 
 them not : 
 They grow up leaning on each other, as the olive and the vine. 
 Youth longeth for a kindred spirit, and yearneth for a heart that 
 
 can commune with his own ; 
 He meditateth night and day, doting on the image of his fancy. 
 Take heed that what charmeth thee is real, nor springeth of thine 
 
 own imagination ; 
 And suffer not trifles to win thy love ; for a wife is thine unto 
 
 death 
 The harp and the voice may thrill thee, — sound may enchant thine 
 
 ear, 
 But consider thou, the hand will wither, and the sweet notes turn 
 
 to discord :
 
 OF MARRIAGE. 117 
 
 The eye, so brilliant at even, may be red with sorrow in the 
 
 morning ; 
 And the sylph-like form of elegance must writhe in the crampings 
 
 of pain. 
 
 O happy lot, and hallowed, even as the joy of angels. 
 
 Where the golden chain of godliness is entwined with the roses of 
 
 love : 
 But beware, thou seem not to be holy, to win favour iu the eyes 
 
 of a creature, 
 For the guilt of the hypocrite is deadly, and winneth thee wrath 
 
 elsewhere. 
 The idol of thy heart is as thou, a probationary sojourner on 
 
 earth ; 
 Therefore be chary of her soul, for that is the jewel in her casket : 
 Let her be a child of God, that she bring with her a blessing to 
 
 thy house, — 
 A blessing above riches, and leading contentment in its train : 
 Let her be an heir of heaven ; so shall she help thee on ihy way : 
 For those who are one in faith, fight double-handed against evil. 
 Take heed lest she love thee before God ; that she be not an 
 
 idolater : 
 Yet see thou that she love thee well ; for her heart is the heart of 
 
 woman ; 
 And the triple nature of humanity must be bound by a triple 
 
 chain, 
 For soul and mind and body — godliness, esteem, and affection. 
 
 How beautiful is modesty ! it winneth upon all beholders : 
 
 But a word or a glance may destroy the pure love that should have 
 
 been for thee. 
 Affect not to despise beauty : no one is freed from its dominion ; 
 But regard it not a pearl of price : — it is fleeting as the bow in the 
 
 clouds. 
 If the character within be gentic, it often hath its index in the 
 
 countenance : 
 The soft smile of a loving face is better than splendour that fadeth 
 
 quickly. 
 When thou choosest a wife, think not only of thyself, 
 But of those God may give thee of her, that they reproach thee 
 
 not for their being : 
 
 ^
 
 ¥f^ 
 
 Ii8 OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 See that he hath givea her health, lest thou lose her early and 
 weep : 
 
 See that she springeth of a wholesome stock, that thy little ones 
 perish not before thee : 
 
 For many a fair skin hath covered a mining disease, 
 
 And many a laughing check been bright with the glare of mad- 
 ness. 
 
 Mark the converse of one thou lovest, that it be simple and 
 
 sincere ; 
 i For an artful or false woman shall set thy pillow with tliorns. 
 
 Observe her deportment with others, when she thinketh nut that 
 
 thou art nigh, 
 For with thee will the blushes of love conceal the true colour uf 
 
 her mind. 
 Hath she learning? it is good, so that modesty go with it : 
 Hath she wisdom ? it is precious, but beware that thou exceed ; 
 For woman must be subject, and the true mastery is of the mind. 
 Be joined to thine equal in rank, or the foot of pride will kick at 
 
 thee ; 
 And look not only for riches, lest thou be mated with misery : 
 Marry not without means ; for so shouldst thou tempt Providence ; 
 But wait not for more than enough ; for marriage is the duty of 
 
 most men : 
 Grievous indeed must be the burden that shall outweigh innocence 
 ' and health, 
 
 And a well-assorted marriage hath not many cares. 
 
 In the day of thy joy consider the poor : thou shalt reap a rich 
 
 harvest of blessing ; 
 For these be the pensioners of One who filleth thy cup with 
 
 pleasures : 
 In the day of thy joy be thankful : He hath well deserved thy 
 
 praise : 
 ]\Iean and selfish is the heart tliat seeketh Him only in sorrow. 
 For her sake wlio leaneth on thine arm, court not the notice of the 
 
 world, 
 And remember that sober privacy is comelier than public display. 
 If thou marriest, thou art allied unto strangers ; see they be not 
 
 such as shame thee : 
 If tliou marriest, thou leavest thine own; see that it be not done 
 
 ■nc^^p
 
 ^ ., , ^ _.. ,^!^ 
 
 OF MARRIAGE. iiq 
 
 Bride and bridegroom, pilgrims of life, henceforward to travel 
 
 together. 
 In this the beginning of your journey, neglect not the favour of 
 
 heaven : 
 Let the day of hopes fulfilled be blest by many prayers, 
 And at even-tide kneel ye together, that your joy be not un- 
 hallowed : 
 Angels that are round you will be glad, those loving ministers of 
 
 mercy. 
 And the richest blessings of your God shall be poured on his 
 
 favoured children. 
 Marriage is a figure and an earnest of holier things unseen, 
 And reverence well becometh the symbol of dignity and glory. 
 Keep thy heart pure, lest thou do dishonour to thy state ; 
 Selfishness is base and hateful ; but love considereth not itself 
 The wicked turneth good into evil, for his mind is warped within 
 
 him ; 
 But the heart of the righteous is chaste : his conscience casteth off 
 
 sin. 
 If thou wilt be loved, render implicit confidence ; 
 If thou wouldst not suspect, receive full confidence in turn : 
 For where trust is not reciprocal, the love that trusted withereth. 
 Hide not your grief nor your gladness; be open one with the 
 
 other ; | 
 
 Let bitterness be strange unto your tongues, but sympathy a 
 
 dweller in your hearts : 
 Imparting halveth the evils, while it doubleth the pleasures of life, 
 But sorrows breed and thicken in the gloomy bosom of Reserve. \ 
 
 Young wife, be not froward, nor forget that modesty becomclli 
 thee : 
 
 it 
 
 If it be discarded now, who will not hold it feigned before ? S 
 
 But be not as a timid girl, — there is honour due to thine estate ; 
 A matron's modesty is dignified : she blusheth not, neither is she 
 
 bold. 
 Be kind to the friends of thine husband, for the love they have to 
 
 him : 
 And gently bear with his infirmities : hast thou no need of his 
 
 forbearance ? 
 Be not always in each other's company ; it is often good to be !; 
 
 alone ; 
 
 fe 
 
 r
 
 j I20 OF EDUCATION. 
 
 And if there be too mucli sameness, ye cannot but grow weary of 
 
 each other : 
 Ye have each a soul to be nourished, and a mind to be taught in 
 
 wisdom, 
 Therefore, as accountable for time, help one another to improve it. 
 If ye feel love to decline, track out quickly tlie secret cause ; 
 Let it not rankle for a day, but confess and bewail it together : 
 \ Speedily seek to be reconciled, for love is the life of marriage ; 
 
 And be ye co-partners in triumph, conquering the peevishness of 
 
 \ self 
 
 \ 
 
 I I Let no one have thy confidence, O wife, saving thine husband : 
 Have not a friend more intimate, O husband, than thy wife. 
 In the joy of a well-ordered home be warned that this is not your 
 
 \ rest ; 
 
 \ For the substance to come may be forgotten in the present beauty 
 
 ':. of the shadow. 
 
 I If ye are blessed with children, ye have a fearful pleasure, 
 
 f A deeper care and a higher joy, and the range of your existence is 
 
 widened : 
 If God in wisdom refuse them, thank Him for an unknown mercy : 
 For how can ye tell if they might be a blessing or a curse ? 
 Yet ye may pray, like Hannah, simply dependent on his will : 
 
 5 Resignation sweeteneth the cup, but impatience dasheth it with 
 
 \ vinegar : 
 
 I Now this is the sum of the matter : — if ye will be happy in mar- 
 
 8 . riage, 
 
 Confide, love, and be patient : be faithful, firm, and holy. 
 
 OF EDUCATION. 
 
 A BABE in a house is a well-spring of pleasure, a messenger of 
 peace and love : 
 
 A resting place for innocence on earth; a link between angels and 
 men : 
 
 Yet is it a talent of trust, a loan to be rendered back with interest ; 
 
 A delight, but redolent of care ; honey-sweet, but lacking not the 
 bitter. 
 
 For character grovveth day by day, and all things aid it in un- 
 folding. 
 
 A
 
 OF ED UCA TION. 1 2 1 
 
 And the bent unto good or evil may be given in the hours of 
 
 infancy : 
 Scratch the green rind of a sapling, or wantonly twist it in the soil, 
 The scarred and crooked oak will tell of thee for centuries to 
 
 come ; 
 Even so mayst thou guide the mind to good, or lead it to the 
 
 marrings of evil, 
 For disposition is builded up by the fashioning of first impressions : 
 AVherefore, though the voice of Instruction waiteth for the ear of 
 
 reason, 
 Yet with his mother's milk the young child drinketh Education. 
 Patience is the first great lesson ; he may learn it at the breast : 
 And the habit of obedience and trust may be grafted on his mind 
 
 in the cradle : 
 Hold the little hands in prayer, teach the weak knees their 
 
 kneeling ; 
 Let him see thee speaking to thy God ; he will not forget it after- 
 ward : 
 When old and grey will he feelingly remember a mother's tender 
 
 piety, 
 And the touching recollection of her prayers shall arrest the strong 
 
 man in his sin. 
 
 Select not to nurse thy darling one that may taint his innocence, 
 For example is a constant monitor, and good seed will die among 
 
 the tares. 
 The arts of a strange servant have spoiled a gentle disposition : 
 Mother, let him learn of thy lips, and be nourished at thy breast. 
 Character is mainly moulded by the cast of the minds that sur- 
 round it : 
 Let then the playmates of thy little one be not other than thy 
 
 judgment shall approve : 
 For a child is in a new M'orld, and learneth somewhat every 
 
 moment, 
 His eye is quick to observe, his memory storeth in secret, 
 His ear is greedy of knowledge, and his mind is plastic as soft 
 
 wax. 
 Beware then that he heareth what is good, that he feedeth not on 
 
 evil maxims, 
 For the seeds of first instruction are dropt into the deepest 
 
 furrows. 
 
 ^
 
 V 
 
 1 22 OF EDUCA TION. 
 
 That which immemorial use hath sanctionetl, sccmclh to be riglit 
 
 and true ; 
 Therefore, let him never have to recollect the time when good 
 
 things were strangers to his thought. 
 Strive not to centre in thyself, fond mother, all his love ; 
 Nay, do not thou so selfishly, but enlarge his heart for others ; 
 Use him to sympathy betimes, that he learn to be sad with the 
 
 afflicted ; 
 And check not a child in his merriment, — should not his morning 
 
 be sunny ? 
 Give him not all his desire, so shalt thou strengthen him in 
 
 hope ; 
 Neither stop with indulgence the fountain of his tears, so shall he 
 
 fear thy firmness. 
 Above all things graft on him subjection, yea in the veriest trifle ; 
 Courtesy to all, reverence to some, and to thee unanswering 
 
 obedience. 
 
 Read thou first, and well approve, the books thou givest to thy 
 
 child ; 
 But remember the weakness of his thought, and that wisdom for 
 
 him must be diluted : 
 In the honied waters of infant tales, let him taste the strong wine 
 
 of truth : 
 Pathetic stories soften the heart ; but legends of terror breed mid- 
 night misery ; 
 Fairy fictions cram the mind with folly, and knowledge of evil 
 
 tempteth to like evil : 
 Be not loath to curb imagination, nor be fearful that truths will 
 
 depress it ; 
 And for evil, he will learn it soon enough ; be not thou the 
 
 devil's envoy. 
 Induce not precocity of intellect, for so shouldst thou nourish 
 
 vanity ; 
 Neither can a plant, forced in the hot-bed, stand against the frozen 
 
 breath of winter. 
 The mind is made wealthy by ideas, but the multitude of words is 
 
 a clogging weight : 
 Therefore be understood in thy teaching, and instruct to the 
 
 measure of capacity. 
 Analogy is milk for babes, but abstract truths are strong meat ; 
 
 -_„..._— —^
 
 CF ED UCA TION. 1 2 3 
 
 Precepts and rules are repulsive to a child, but happy illustration 
 winneth him : 
 
 In vain shalt thou preach of industry and prudence, till he learn of 
 the bee and the ant ; 
 
 Dimly will he think of his soul, till the acorn and the chrysalis 
 have taught him ; 
 
 lie will fear God in thunder, and worship his loveliness in flowers ; 
 
 And parables shall charm his heart, while doctrines seem dead 
 mystery ; 
 
 Faith shall he learn of the husbandman casting good corn into the 
 soil ; 
 
 And if thou train him to trust thee, he will not withhold his re- 
 liance from the Lord. 
 
 P'earest thou the dark, poor child ? I would not have thee left to 
 thy terrors ; 
 
 Darkness is the semblance of evil, and nature regardeth it with 
 dread : 
 
 Yet know thy father's God is with thee still, to guard thee ; 
 
 It is a simple lesson of dependence ; let thy tost mind anchor upon 
 Him. 
 
 Did a sudden noise affright thee ? lo, this or that hath caused it : 
 
 Things undefined are full of dread, and stagger stouter nerves. 
 
 The seeds of misery and madness have been sowed in the nights of 
 infancy ; 
 
 Therefore be careful that ghastly fears be not the night com- 
 panions of thy child. 
 
 Lo, thou art a land-mark on a hill ; thy little ones copy thee in all 
 
 things : 
 Let, then, thy religion be perfect : so shalt thou be honoured in 
 
 thy house. 
 Be instructed in all wisdom, and communicate that thou knowest. 
 Otherwise thy learning is hidden, and thus thou seemest unwise. 
 A sluggard hath no respect ; an epicure commandeth not 
 
 reverence ; 
 Meanness is always despicable, and folly provoketh contempt. 
 Those parents are best honoured whose characters best deserve it. 
 Show me a child undutiful, I shall know where to look for a foolisk 
 
 father : 
 Never hath a father done his duty, and lived to be despised of his 
 
 son.
 
 +- 
 
 124 OF ED UCA TIOjW 
 
 But how can that son reverence an example he dare not follow ? 
 Should he imitate thee in thine evil ? his scorn is thy rebuke. 
 Nay, but bring him up aright, in obedience to God and to thee ; 
 Begin betimes, lest thou fail of his fear ; and with judgment, that 
 
 thou lose not his love : 
 Herein use good discretion, and govern not all alike, 
 Yet, perhaps, the fault will be in thee, if kindness prove not all- 
 sufficient : 
 By kindness, the wolf and the zebra become docile as the spaniel 
 
 and the horse ; 
 The kite feedeth with the starling, under the law of kindness : 
 That law shall tame the fiercest, bring down the battlements ol 
 
 pride. 
 Cherish the weak, control the strong, and win the fearful spirit. 
 Be obeyed when thou commandest ; but command not often : 
 Let thy carriage be the gentleness of love, not the stern front of 
 
 tyranny. 
 Make not one child a warning to another ; but chide the offender 
 
 apart : 
 For self-conceit and wounded pride rankle like poisons in the soul. 
 A mild rebuke in the season of calmness, is better than a rod in 
 
 the heat of passion ; 
 Nevertheless, spare not, if thy word hath passed for punishment ; 
 Let not thy child see thee humbled, nor learn to think thee false ; 
 Suffer none to reprove thee before him, and reprove not thine own 
 
 purposes by change ; 
 Yet speedily turn thou again, and reward him where thou canst, 
 For kind encouragement in good cutteth at the roots of evil. 
 
 Drive not a timid infant from his home, in the early spring-time 
 
 of his life. 
 Commit not that treasure to an liireling, nor wrench the young 
 
 heart's fibres : 
 In his helplessness leave him not alone, a stranger among strange 
 
 children, 
 Where affection longeth for thy love, counting the dreary hours ; 
 Where religion is made a terror, and innocence weepeth unheard ; 
 Where oppression grindeth without remedy, and cruelty delighteth 
 
 in smiting. 
 Wherefore comply with an evil fashion ? Is it not to spare thee 
 
 trouble ?
 
 OF EDUCATION. 125 
 
 Can he gatlier no knowledge at thy mouth ? Wilt thou yield thine 
 
 honour to another? 
 What can he gain in learning, to equal what he loseth in 
 
 innocence ? 
 Alas ! for the price above gold, by which such learning cometh ! 
 For emulative pride and envy are the specious idols of the diligent, 
 Oaths and foul-mouthed sin burn in the language of the idle : 
 Bolder in that mimic world of boys stareth brazen-fronted vice. 
 Than thereafter in the haunts of men, where society doth shame 
 
 her into corners. 
 My soul, look well around thee, ere thou give thy timid infant unto 
 
 sorrows. 
 There be many that say. We were happiest in days long past, 
 When our deepest care was an ill-conned book. 
 And when we sported in that merry sunshine of our life, 
 Sadness a stranger to the heart, and cheerfulness its gay inhabitant. 
 True, ye are now less pure, and therefore ai-e more wretched : 
 But have ye quite forgotten how sorely ye travailed at your 
 
 tasks. 
 How childish griefs and disappointments bowed down the childish 
 
 mind ? 
 How sorrow sat upon your pillow, and terror hath waked you up 
 
 betimes. 
 Dreading the strict hand of justice, that, will not wait for a reason. 
 Or the whims of petty tyrants, children like yourselves, 
 Or the pestilent extract of evil poured into the ear of innocence ? 
 Behold the coral island, fresh from the floor of the Atlantic, 
 It is dinted by every ripple, and a soft wave can smooth its 
 
 surface ; 
 But soon its substance hardeneth in the winds and tropic sun, 
 And weakly the foaming billows break against its adamantine 
 
 wall : 
 Even thus, though sin and care dash upon the firmness of man- 
 hood, 
 The timid child is wasted most by his petty troubles ; 
 And seldom, when life is mature, and the strength proportioned to 
 
 the burden. 
 Will the feeling mind, that can remember, acknowledge to deeper 
 
 anguish. 
 Than when, as a stranger and a little one, the heart first ached 
 
 with anxiety,
 
 'i' 126 OF EDUCATION 
 
 I 
 
 And the sprouting buds of sensibility were braised by the harsh- 
 ness of a school. 
 
 My soul, look well around thee, ere thou give thine infant unto 
 sorrows. 
 
 Yet there be boisterous tempers, stout nerves, and stubborn hearts, 
 
 And there is a riper season, when the mind is well disciplined in 
 good. 
 
 And a time, when youth may be bettered by the wholesome 
 occasions of knowledge, 
 
 Which rarely will he meet with so well, as among the congregation 
 of his fellows. 
 
 Only for infancy, fond mother, rend not those first affections ; 
 
 Only for the sensitive and timorous, consign not thy darling unto 
 misery. 
 
 A man looketh on his little one, as a being of better hope ; 
 In himself ambition is dead, but it hath a resurrection in his son : 
 That vein is yet untried, — and who can tell if it be not golden? 
 While his, well-nigh worked out, never yielded aught but lead : 
 And thus is he hurt more sorely, if his wishes are defeated there, 
 He hath staked his all upon a throw, and lo ! the dice have foiled 
 
 him. 
 All ways, and at all times, men follow on in flocks. 
 And the rife epidemic of the day shall tincture the stream of edu- 
 cation. 
 Fashion is a foolish watcher posted at the tree of knowledge, 
 Who pluckelh its unripe fruit to pelt away the birds : 
 But, for its golden apples, — they dry upon the boughs. 
 And few have the courage or the wisdom to eat in spite of fashion : 
 One while, the fever is to learn, what none will be wiser for 
 
 knowing, 
 Exploded errors in extinct tongues, and occasions for their use are 
 
 small ; 
 And the bright morning of life, for years of misspent time, 
 Wasted in following sounds, hath tracked up little sense, 
 Till at noon a man is thrown upon the world, with a mind expert 
 
 in trifles. 
 Having yet everything to learn that can make him good or useful : 
 The curious spirit of youth is crammed with unwholesome 
 
 garbage, 
 While stai"ving for the mother's milk the breasts of nature yield ; 
 
 ^
 
 — ^1 
 
 OF EDUCATION. uj 'T 
 
 And high-coloured fables ol depravity hire with their classic 
 
 varnish, 
 While truth is holding out in vain her mirror much despised. 
 
 Of olden time, the fashion was for arms, to make an accomplished 
 slayer, 
 
 And set gregarious man a-tilting with his fellows ; 
 
 Thereafter, occult sciences, and mystic arts, and symbols, 
 
 How to exorcise a wizard, and how to lay a ghost ; 
 
 Anon, all for gallantry and presence, the minuet, the palfrey, and 
 the foil. 
 
 And the grand aim of education was to produce a coxcomb ; 
 
 Soon came scholastical dispute with hydra-headed argument, 
 
 And the true philosophy of mind confounded in a labyrintli of 
 words ; 
 
 Then the Pantheon, and its orgies, initiating docile childhood, 
 
 While diligent youth strove hard to render his all unto Caesar ; 
 
 And now is seen the passion for utility, when all things are ac- 
 counted by their price, 
 
 And the Avisdom of the wise is busied in hatching golde.-* 
 
 eggs- 
 Perchance, not many moons to come, and all will again be for 
 
 abstrusity, 
 Unravelling the figured veil that hideth Egypt's gods ; 
 Or in those strange Avatars seeking benignant Vishnu, 
 Kali, and Kamala the fair, and much invoked Ganesa. 
 
 The mines of knowledge are oft laid bare through the forked 
 
 hazelwand of chance. 
 And in a mountain of quartz we find a grain of gold. 
 Of a truth, it were well to know all things, and to learn them all 
 
 at once. 
 And what, though mortal insufficiency attain to small knowledge of 
 
 any? 
 Man loveth exclusions, delighting in the sterile trodden path, 
 While the broad green meadow is jewelled with wild flowers : 
 And whether it is better with the many to follow a beaten track. 
 Or bv eccentric wanderings to cull unheeded sweets ? 
 
 When his reason yieldeth fruit, make thy child thy friend ; 
 For a filial friend is a double gain, a diamond set in gold.
 
 128 OF EDUCATIOy. 
 
 As an infant, thy mandate was enough, but now let him see thy 
 
 reasons ; 
 Confide in him, but with discretion : and bend a willing ear to his 
 
 questions. 
 More to thee than to all beside, let him owe good counsel and 
 
 good guidance ; 
 Let him feel his pursuits have an interest, more to thee than to all 
 
 beside. 
 Watch his native capacities ; nourish that which suiteth him the 
 
 readiest ; 
 And cultivate early those good inclinations wherein thou fearest he 
 
 is most lacking : 
 Is he phlegmatic and desponding? let small successes comfort his 
 
 hope : 
 Is he obstinate and sanguine ? let petty crosses accustom him to 
 
 life: 
 Showeth he a sordid spirit? be quick, and teach him generosity : 
 Inclineth he to liberal excess ? prove to him how hard it is to earn. 
 Gather to thy hearth such friends as are worthy of honour and 
 
 attention ; 
 For the company a man chooseth is a visible index of his heart : 
 But let not the pastor whom thou hearest be too much a familiar 
 
 in thy house, 
 For thy children may see his infirmities, and learn to cavil at his 
 
 teaching. 
 It is well to take hold on occasions, and render indirect instruc- 
 tion ; 
 It is better to teach upon a system, and reap the wisdom of books : 
 The history of nations yieldeth grand outlines : of persons, minute 
 
 details : 
 Poetry is polish to the mind, and high abstractions cleanse it. 
 Consider the station of thy son, and breed him to his fortune with 
 
 judgment ; 
 The rich may profit in much which would bring small advantage 
 
 to the poor. 
 But with all tliy care for thy son. with all thy strivings for his wel- 
 fare, 
 Expect disappointment, and look for pain : for he is of an evil 
 
 stock, and will grieve thee.
 
 OF TOLERANCE. 129 
 
 OF TOLERANCE. 
 
 A WISE man in a crowded street winneth his way willi gentleness, 
 
 Nor rudely pushetli aside the stranger that standcth in his patii ; 
 
 He knoweth that blind hurry will but hinder, stirring up conten- 
 tion against him, 
 
 Vet holdeth he steadily right on, with his face to the scope of his 
 pursuit : 
 
 Even so, in the congress of opinions, the bustling highway of 
 intelligence, 
 
 Each man should ask of his neighbour, and yield to him again 
 concession. 
 
 Terms ill-defined, and forms misunderstood, and customs, where 
 their reasons are unknown, 
 
 Have stirred up many zealous souls to fight against imaginary 
 giants ; 
 
 But wisdom will hear the matter out, and often, by keenness of 
 perception, 
 
 Will find in strange disguise the precious truth he seeketh ; 
 
 So he leaveth unto prejudice or taste the garb and the manner of 
 her presence, 
 
 Content to see so nigh the mistress of his love. 
 
 There is no similitude in nature that ownetli not also to a 
 difference, 
 
 Yea, no two berries are alike, though twins upon one stem ; 
 
 No drop in the ocean, no peblale on the beach, no leaf in the 
 forest, hath its counterpart, 
 
 No mind in its dwelling of mortality, no spirit in the world un- 
 seen : 
 
 And therefore, since capacity and essence differ alike with accident, 
 
 None but a bigot partisan will hope for impossible unity. 
 
 "Wilt thou ensue peace, nor buffet with the waters of contention. 
 
 Wilt thou be counted wise and gain the love of men, 
 
 Let unobtruded error escape the frown of censure, 
 
 Nor lift the glass of truth alway before thy fellows : 
 
 I say not, compromise the right, I would not have thee coun- 
 tenance the wrong, 
 
 But hear with charitable heart the reasons of an honest judgment ; 
 
 For thou also hast erred, and knowest not when thou art most 
 right, 
 
 ■4*
 
 4- 
 
 no OF TOLERANCE. 
 
 Nor whether to-morrow's wisdom may not jMove thee simple to- 
 day : 
 
 Perchance thou art chiding in another what once thou wast thyself; 
 
 Perchance thou sharply reprovest what thou wilt be hereafter. 
 
 A man that can render a reason, is a man worthy of an answer ; 
 
 Uut he that argueth for victory, deserveth not the tenderness of 
 Truth. 
 
 Whiles a man liveth he may mend ; count not thy brother repro- 
 bate ; 
 When he is dead his chance is gone ; remember not his faults in 
 
 bitterness : 
 A man, till he dieth, is immortal in thy sight ; and then he is as 
 
 nothing ; 
 Make not the living thy foe, nor take weak vengeance of the dead : 
 For life is as a game of chess, where least causeth greatest, 
 And an ill move bringeth loss, and a pawn may ensure victory. 
 Dost thou suspect? seek out certainty : for now, by self-inflicted 
 
 pain, 
 Or ill-directed wrath, thou wrongest thyself or thy neighbour ; 
 Suspicion is an early lesson, taught in the school of experience, 
 Neither shalt thou easily unlearn it, though charity ply thee with 
 
 her preaching ; 
 Yet look thou well for reasons, or ever mistrust hath marred thee, 
 Or fear curdled thy blood, or jealousy goaded thee to madness ; 
 For a look, or a word, or an act, may be taken ■well or ill 
 As construed by the latitude of love, or the closeness of cold 
 suspicion. 
 
 Better is the wrong with sincerity, rather than the right with false- 
 hood : 
 
 And a prudent man will not lay siege to the strong hold of igno- 
 rant bigotry. 
 
 To unsettle a weak mind were an easy inglorious triumph, 
 
 And a strong cause taketh little count of the ^^■orthless suffrage of 
 a fool : 
 
 Lightly he held to the wrong, loosely will he cling to the right ; 
 
 Weakness is the essence of his mind, and the reed cannot yield an 
 acorn. 
 
 Dogged obstinacy is oftentimes the buttress that proppeth an un- 
 stable spirit.
 
 GF TOLERAXCE. 
 
 T7^ 
 
 But a candid man blusheth not to own, he is wiser to-day than 
 yesterday. 
 
 A man of a little wisdom is a sage among fools ; 
 
 But himself is chief among the fools, if he look for admiration from 
 them. 
 
 A heresy is an evil thing, for its shame is its pride : 
 
 Its necessary difference of error is the character it most esteemeth : 
 
 Give a man all things short of liberty, thou shall have no thanks,. 
 
 And little wilt thou speed wiih thine opponent, by proving points 
 he will concede. 
 
 The tost sand darkeneth the waves ; and clear had been the pages 
 of truth, 
 
 Had not the glosses of men obscured the simplicity of faith. 
 
 In all things consider thine own ignorance, and gladly lake occa 
 sion to be taught ; 
 
 But suffer not excess of liberality to neutralize thy menial indepen- 
 dence. 
 
 The faults and follies of most men make their deaths a gain : 
 But thou also art a man, full of faults and follies : 
 Therefore sorrow for the dead, or none shall weep for thee. 
 For the measure of charily thou dealest, shall be poured into thine 
 
 own bosom. 
 That which vexelh thee now, provoking thee to hate thy brother, 
 Bear with it ; the annoyance passeth, and may not return for e\er : 
 The same combinations and results which aggravate thy soul to-day, 
 May not meet again for centuries in the kaleidoscope of circum- 
 stance ; 
 For men and matters change, new elements mixing in continually, 
 And, as with chemical magic, the sour is transmuted into sweet- 
 ness : 
 A little explained, a little endured, a little passed over as a foible, 
 And lo, the jagged atoms fit like smooth mosaic. 
 Thou canst not shape another's mind lo suit thine own body. 
 Think not, then, to be furnishing his brain with thy special 
 notions. 
 
 Charity walketh with a high step, and stumbleth not at a tritle : 
 Charily hath keen eyes, but the lashes half conceal them : 
 Charily is praised of all, and fear not thou that praise, 
 God will not love thee less, because men love thee more.
 
 ^ 
 
 132 OF SORROW. 
 
 OF SORROW. 
 
 I SAID, I will seek out Sorrow, and minister the balm uf pity, 
 
 So I sought her in the house of mourning ; but peace followed in 
 
 her train. 
 Then I marked her brooding silently in the gloomy cavern of 
 
 Regret ; 
 But a sunbeam of heavenly hope gleamed on her folded wing. 
 So I turned to the cabin of the poor, where famine dwelt with 
 
 disease : 
 But the bed of the sick was smoothed, and the ploughman whistled 
 
 at his labour. 
 So I stopt, and mused within myself, to remember where sorrow 
 
 dwelt, 
 For I sought to see her alone, uncomfortcd, uncompanioned. 
 I went to the prison, but penitence was there, and promise of 
 
 better times ; 
 I listened at the madman's cell, but it echoed with deluded 
 
 laughter. 
 Then I turned me to the rich and noble ; I noted the sons of 
 
 fashion : 
 A smile was on the languid cheek, that had no commerce with the 
 
 heart ; 
 Unhallowed thoughts, like fires, gleamed from the window of the 
 
 eye, 
 And sorrow lived with those whose pleasures add unto their sins. 
 
 His infancy wanted not guilt ; his life was continued evil : 
 
 He drew in pride with his mother's milk, and a father's lips taught 
 
 him cursing, 
 I marked him as the wayward boy ; I traced the dissolute youth ; 
 I saw him betray the innocent, and sacrifice affection to his lust ; 
 I saw him the companion of knaves, and a squanderer of ill-got 
 
 gain: 
 1 heard him curse his own misery, while he hugged the chains 
 
 that galled him : 
 For well had experience declared the bitterness of guilty pleasure, 
 But habit, with its iron net, involved him in its folds. 
 Behind him loured the thunder-storm, which the caldron of his 
 
 wickedness had brewed ;
 
 ■# 
 
 OFJOY. 133 
 
 Before him was the smooth steep cliff, wliose ba'^e is ruin and de- 
 spair. 
 
 So he rushed madly on, and tried to forget his being : 
 
 The noisy revel and the low debauch, and fierce excitement of 
 play, 
 
 With dreary interchange of palling pleasures filled the dull round 
 of existence : 
 
 Memory was to him as a foe, so he flew for false solace to the 
 wine-cup, 
 
 And stunned his enemy at even ; but she rent him as a giant in the 
 morning. 
 
 j 
 
 I turned aside to weep ; I lost him a little while: > 
 
 I looked, and years had past ; he was hoar with the winter of his 
 
 age. « 
 
 And what was now his hope ? where was the balm for his sadness? 
 Tlie memory of the past was guilt : the feeling of the present, 
 
 remorse. 
 Then he set his affections on gold, he worshipped the shrine of j 
 
 Mammon, ; 
 
 And to lay richer gifts before his idol, he starved his own bowels ; 
 So, the youth spent in profligacy ended in the gripings of want :   
 
 The miser grudged himself husks to take deeper vengeance of the 
 
 prodigal. : 
 
 And I said, this is sorrow, but pity cannot reach it ; \ 
 
 This is to be wretched indeed, to be guilty without repentance. ! 
 
 OF JOY. 
 
 My soul was sickened within me, so I sought the dwelling place 
 
 of Joy : 
 And I met it not in laughter ; I found it not in wealth or power ; 
 But I saw it in the pleasant home, where religion smiled upon 
 
 content, 
 And the satisfied ambition of the heart rejoiced in the favour of its 
 
 God. 
 Behold the happy man, his face is rayed with pleasure, 
 His thoughts are of calm delight, and none can know his blessed- 
 , ness : 
 ^- — ^ 
 
 4
 
 ^ 
 
 T34 OF JOY. 
 
 I have watched him from his infancy, and seen him in the grasp of 
 
 death, 
 Vet, never have I noted on his brow the cloud of desponding 
 
 sorrow. 
 He hath knelt beside his cradle ; his mother's hymn lulled him to 
 
 sleep : 
 In childhood he hath loved holiness, and drank from that fountain- 
 head of peace. 
 Wisdom took him for her scholar, guiding his steps in purity : 
 lie lived unpolluted by the world ; and his young heart hated 
 
 sin. 
 lUit he owned not the spurious religion engendered of faction and 
 
 moroseness, 
 Neither were the sproutings of his soui seared by the brand of 
 
 superstition. 
 His love is pure and single, sincere, and knoweth not change ; 
 For his manhood hath been blest witli the pleasant choice of his 
 
 youth : 
 ])chold his one beloved, she leaneth on his arm. 
 And he looketh on the years that are past, to review the dawn of 
 
 her affection. 
 Memory is sweet unto him, as a perfect landscape to the sight ; 
 I'.ach object is lovely in itself, but the whole is the harmony of 
 
 nature. 
 Behold his little ones around him, they bask in the warmth of his 
 
 smile ; 
 And infant innocence and joy lighten their happy faces ; 
 lie is holy, and they honour him : he is loving, and they love 
 
 him : 
 He is consistent, and they esteem him : he is firm, and they fe.^r 
 
 him. 
 His friends are the excellent among men ; and the bands of their 
 
 friendship are strong ; 
 His house is the palace of peace : for the Prince of I^eace is there. 
 As the wearied man to his couch, as the thoughtful man to his 
 
 musings, 
 Even so, from llie bustle of life, he goeth to his well-ordered 
 
 home : 
 And though he often sin, he returneth with weeping eyes : 
 I'or he feeleth the mercies of forgiveness, and glowcth with wainier 
 
 gratitude. 
 
 I . il l . L. I II .   II <
 
 "^ 
 
 OF JOY. 135 
 
 Thus did he walk in happine.s<;, and sqrrow was a stranger to his 
 soul ; 
 
 The light of affection sunned his heart, the tear of the grateful be- 
 dewed his feet, 
 
 lie put his hand with constancy to good, and angels knew him as 
 a brother, 
 
 And the busy satellites of evil trembled as at God's ally: 
 
 He used his wealth as a wise steward, making him friends for 
 futurity : 
 
 He bent his learning to religion, and religion was with him at the 
 last : 
 
 For I saw him after many days, when the time of his release was 
 come, 
 
 And I longed for a congregated world, to behold that dying saint. 
 
 As the aloe is green and well-liking, till the last best summer of 
 its age. 
 
 And then hangeth out its golden bells, to mingle glory with cor- 
 ruption ; 
 
 As a meteor travelleth in splendour, but bursteth in dazzling light ; 
 
 Such was the end of the righteous ; his death was the sun at its 
 setting. 
 
 Look on this picture of joy, and remember that portrait of sorroM": 
 Behold the beauty of holiness, behold the deformity of sin ! 
 How long, ye sons of men, will ye scorn the words of wisdom? 
 How long will ye hunt for happiness in the caverns that breed 
 
 despair? 
 Will ye comfort yourselves in misery, by denying the existence of 
 
 delight, 
 And from experience in woe, will ye reason that none arc happy? 
 Joy is not in your path, for it loveth not that l)leak broad road, 
 But its flowers are hung upon the hedges that line a narrower way : 
 And there the faint travellers of earth may wander and gather for 
 
 themselves. 
 To soothe their wounded hearts with balm from the amaranths of 
 
 heaven. 
 
 GEfl AOaA. 
 
 ■^^^iM^m^
 
 ^ 
 
 
 SECOND SERIES. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 Come again, and greet me as a friend, fellow-pilgrim upon life's 
 highway, 
 
 Leave awhile the hot and dusty road, to loiter in the greenwood 
 of Reflection. 
 
 Come unto my cool dim grotto, that is watered by the rivulet of 
 truth, 
 
 And over whose time-stained rock climb the fairy flowers of con- 
 tent. 
 
 Here, upon this mossy bank of leisure fling thy load of cares, 
 
 Taste my simple store, and rest one soothing hour. 
 
 4" 
 
 Behold, I would count thee for a brother, and commune with thy 
 
 charitable soul ; 
 Though wrapt within the mantle of a prophet, I stand mine own 
 
 weak scholar. 
 Heed no disciple for a teacher, if knowledge be not found upon 
 
 his tongue ; 
 For vanity and folly were the lessons these lips untaught could 
 
 give : 
 The precious staple of my merchandise cometh from a better 
 
 country, 
 The harvest of my reaping sprang of foreign seed
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 And this poor pensioner of Mercy, should he boast of merit? 
 The grafted stock, — should that be proud of apples not its own? 
 Into the bubbling brook I dip my hermit shell ; 
 Man receiveth as a cup, but Wisdom is the river. 
 
 Moreover, for this fillagree of fancy, this Oriental garnish of simi- 
 litude, 
 
 Alas, the world is old, — and all things old within it : 
 
 I walk a trodden path, I love the good old way ; 
 
 Prophets, and priests, and kings have tuned the harp I faintly 
 touch. 
 
 Truth, in a garment of the past, is my choice and simple theme ; 
 
 No truth is new to-day : and the mantle was another's. 
 
 Still, there is an insect swarm, the buzzing cloud of imagery, 
 Mote-like steaming on my sight, and thronging my reluctant mind ; 
 The memories of studious culling, and multiplied analogies of 
 
 nature, 
 Fresh feelings unrepressed, welling from the heart spontaneous, 
 Facts, and comparisons, and meditative atoms, gathered on the 
 
 heap of combination, 
 Mingle in the fashion of my speech with gossamer dreams of 
 
 Reverie. 
 I need not beat the underwood for game ; my pheasants flock upon 
 
 the lawn, 
 And gamboling hares disport fearless in my dewy field ; 
 I roam no heath-empurpled hills, wearily watching for a covey, 
 But thoughts fly swift to my decoy, eager to be caught ; 
 I sit no quiet angler, lingering patiently for sport, 
 But spread my nets for a draught, and take the glittering shoal ; 
 I chase no solitary stag, tracking it with breathles ; toil, 
 But hunt with Aureng-zebe, and spear surrounded thousands. 
 
 What then,— count ye this a boast?— sweet charity, think it other; 
 For the dog-fish and poisonous ray are captured in the mullcl- 
 
 haul : 
 The crane and the kite are of my thoughts, alike with the partridge 
 
 and the quail. 
 And unclean meats as of the clean hang upon my Seric shambles. 
 — How saith he? shall a man deceive, dressing up his jackal as a 
 
 lion ?
 
 138 OF CHEERFULNESS. 
 
 Or colour in staid hues of fact the changing vest of falsehood ? — 
 Brother, unwittingly he may ; doulDtless, unwillingly he doth : 
 For men are full of fault, and how should he be righteous' 
 Carefully my garden hath been weeded, yet shall it be foul with 
 
 thistle; 
 My grapery is diligently thinned, and yet many berries will be sour : 
 From my nets have I flung the bad away, to my small skill and 
 
 caution 
 Yet may some slimy snake have counted for an eel. 
 The rudder of Man's best hope cannot always steer himself from 
 
 error : 
 The arrow of Man's straightest aim flieth short of truth. 
 Thus, the confession of sincerity visit not as if it were presumption : 
 Nor own me for a leader, where thy reason is not guide. 
 
 4 
 
 OF CHEERFULNESS. 
 
 Take courage, prisoner of time, for there be many comforts, 
 Cease thy labour in the pit, and bask awhile with truants in the sun 
 Ee cheerful, man of care, for great is the multitude of chances. 
 Burst thy fetters of anxiety, and walk among the citizens of ease : 
 Wherefore dost thou doubt ? if present good is round thee, 
 It may be well to look for change, but to trust in a continuance is 
 
 better ; 
 Whilst, at the crisis of adversity, to hope for some amends were 
 
 wisdom. 
 And cheerfully to bear thy cross in patient strength is duty : 
 I speak of common troubles, and the petty plagues of life. 
 The phantom-spies of Unbelief, that lurk about his outposts : 
 Sharp suspicion, dull distrust, and sullen stern moroseness 
 Are captains in that locust swarm to lead the cloudy host. 
 Thou hast need of fortitude and faith, for the adversaries come on 
 
 thickly. 
 And he that fled hath added wings to his pursuing foes ; 
 Fight them, and the cravens flee; thy boldness is their panic ; 
 Fear them, and thy treacherous heart hath lent the ranks a legion: 
 Among their shouts of victory resoundeth the wail of Heraclitus, 
 Wliile Democrite, confident and cheerful, hath plucked up the 
 
 standard of their camp.
 
 ¥ # 
 
 ^ OF CHEERFULNESS, 139 ^ 
 
 Not few nor light are the burdens of life ; then load it not with 
 heaviness of spirit ; 
 
 Sicknesses, and penury, and travail, — there be real ills enow : 
 
 We are wandering benighted, with a waning moon ; plunge not 
 rashly into jungles, 
 
 Where cold and poisonous damps will quench the torch of hope : 
 
 The tide is strong against us ; good oarsmen, pull or perish, — 
 
 If your arms be slack for fear, ye shall not stem the torrent. 
 
 A wise traveller goeth on cheerily, through fair weather or foul ; 
 
 He knoweth that his journey must be sped, so he carrieth his sun- 
 shine with him. 
 
 Calamities come not as a curse, — nor prosperity for other than a 
 trial ; 
 
 Struggle, — thou art better for the strife, and the very energy shall 
 hearten thee. 
 
 Good is taught in a Spartan school, — hard lessons and a rough 
 discipline, 
 
 But evil Cometh idly of itself, in the luxuiy of Capuan holidays ; 
 
 And wisdom will go bravely forth to meet the chastening scourge, 
 
 Enduring with a thankful heart that punishment of I.ove. 
 
 There be three cliief rivers of despondency ; sin, sorrow, fear ; 
 Sin is the deepest, sorrow hath its shallows, and fear is a noisy 
 
 rapid : 
 But even to the darkest holes in guilt's profoundest river 
 Hope can pierce with quickening ray, and all those depths are 
 
 lightened ; 
 So long as there is mercy in a God, hope is the privilege of 
 
 creatures, 
 And so soon as there is penitence in creatures, that hope is exalted 
 
 into duty. 
 Verily, consider this for courage ; that the fearful and the un- 
 believing 
 Are classed with idolaters and liars, because tliey trusted not in 
 
 God: 
 For it is none other than selfish sin, a hard and proud ingratitude. 
 Where seeming repentance is herald of despair, instead of hope's 
 
 forerunner. 
 
 Moreover, in thy day of grief, — for friends, or fame, or fortune. 
 Well I wot the heart shall ache, and mind be numbed in torpor ; 
 
 ¥
 
 ^" 
 
 140 OF CHEERFULNESS. 
 
 Let nature weep ; leave her alone ; the freshet of her sorrow mu=;t 
 
 run off ; 
 And sooner will the lake be clear, relieved of turbid flooding?. 
 Yet see that her license hath a limit ; with the novelty her agony 
 
 is over ; 
 Hasten in that earliest calm, to tie her in the leash with Reason. 
 For regrets are an enervating folly, and the season for energy is 
 
 come, 
 Yea rather, that the future may repair with diligence the ruins of 
 
 the past. 
 
 Again, for empty fears, the harassings of possible calamity ; 
 Pray, and thou shalt prosper ; trust in God, and tread them 
 
 down. 
 Yield to the phantasy, — thou sinnest ; resist it. He will aid thee : 
 Out of Him there is no help, nor any sober courage. 
 Feeble is the comfort of the faithless, a man without a God ; 
 Who dare counsel such an one to fling away his fears? 
 Fear is the heritage of him, a portion wise and merciful. 
 To drive the trembler into safety, if haply he may turn and flee : 
 Nevertheless, let him reckon an he will, that all he counteth 
 
 casual 
 May as well be for him as against him ; dice have many sides : 
 And, even as in ailments of the body, diseases follow closely upon 
 
 dreads, 
 So, with infirmities of mind, is fear the pallid harbinger of fiilure. 
 It were wise to walk undaunted even in an accidental chaos, 
 For the brave man is at peace, and free to get the mastery of cir- 
 cumstance. 
 The stoutest armour of defence is that which is worn witliin tlie 
 
 bosom, 
 And the weapon that no enemy can parry, is a bold and cheerful 
 
 spirit : 
 Catapults in old war worked like Titans, crushing foes \\\\\\ rocks ; 
 So doth a strong-springed heart throw back every load on its 
 
 assailants. 
 
 T went heavily for cares, and fell into the trance of sorrow ; 
 And behold, a vision in my trance, and my ministering angel 
 brought it. 
 JL Tlicre stood a mountain huge and steep, the awful Rock of Ages ;
 
 OF CHEERFULNESS. 141 
 
 The sun upon its summit, and storms midway, and deep raviiies at 
 
 foot. 
 And, as I looked, a dense l)lack cloud, suddenly dropping from the 
 
 thunder, 
 Filled, like a cataract with yeasty foam, a narrow smiling valley : 
 Close and hard that vaporous mass seemed to press the ground, 
 And lamentable sounds came up, as of some that were smothering 
 
 beneath. 
 Then, as I walked upon the mountain, clear in summer's noon, 
 For charity I called aloud, IIo ! climb up hither to the sunshine. 
 And even like a stream of light my voice had pierced the mist ; 
 I saw below two families of men, and knew their names of old : 
 Courage, struggling through the darkness, stout of heart and glad- 
 some, 
 Ran up the shining ladder which the voice of hope had made ; 
 And tripping lightly by his side, a sweet-eyed lielpmate with him, 
 I looked upon her face to welcome pleasant Cheerfulness ; 
 And a babe was cradled in her bosom, a laughing little prattler. 
 The child of Cheerfulness and Courage, — could his name be other 
 
 than Success? 
 So, from his happy wife, when they both stood beside me on the 
 
 mountain. 
 The fond father took that babe, and set him on his shoulder in the 
 
 sunshine. 
 
 Again I peered into the valley, for I heard a gasping moan, 
 
 A desolate weak cry, as muffled in the vapours. 
 
 So down that crystal shaft into the poisonous mine 
 
 I sped for charity to seek and save, — and those I souglit tied from 
 
 me. 
 At length, I spied, far distant, a trembling withered dwarf 
 Who crouched beneath the cloak of a tall and spectral mourner : 
 Then I knew Cowardice and Gloom, and followed them on in 
 
 darkness 
 Guided by their rustling robes and moans and muffled cries. 
 Until in a suffocating pit the wretched pair had perished, — 
 And lo, their whitening bones were shaping out an epitaph of 
 
 Failure. 
 
 So I saw that despondency was death, and Hung my burdens from 
 me. 
 
 ■■^
 
 142 OF YESTERDAY. 
 
 And, lightened by that effort, I was raised above tlic world; 
 Yea, in the strangeness of my vision, I seemed to soar on wings, 
 And the names they called my wings were Cheerfulness and 
 Wisdom. 
 
 A 
 
 OF YESTERDAY. 
 
 Speak, poor almsman of to-day, whom none can assure of a to- 
 morrow, 
 Tell out, with honest heart, the price thou settest upon yesterday. 
 Is it then a writing in the dust, traced by the finger of idleness, 
 Which Industry, clean housewife, can wipe a\\ay for ever ? 
 Is it as a furrow on the sand, fashioned Ijy the toying waves, 
 Quickly to be trampled then again by the feet of the returning 
 
 tide? 
 Is it as the pale blue smoke, rising from a peasant's hovel. 
 That melted into limpid air, before it topped tlie larches ? 
 Is it but a vision, unstable and unreal, which \\ ise men soon for- 
 get ? 
 Is it as the stranger of a night, — gone, we heed not whither? 
 Alas ! thou foolish heart, M'hose thoughts are but as these, 
 Alas ! deluded soul, that hopeth thus of Yesterday. 
 
 For, behold,— those temples of Ellora, the Brahmin's rock-built 
 
 shrine. 
 
 Behold — yon granite cliff, which the North Sea buffeteth in vain, — 
 
 That stout old forest fir, — these waking verities of life, 
 
 This guest abiding ever, not strange, nor a servant, but a son, — 
 
 Such, O man, are vanity and dreams, transient as a rainbow on the 
 cloud. 
 
 Weighed against that solid fact, thine ill-remembered Yesterday. 
 
 Come, let me show thee an ensample, where Nature shall instruct 
 
 us ; 
 Luxuriantly the arguments for truth spring native in her gardens. 
 Seek we yonder woodman of the plain ; he is measuring his axe to 
 
 the elm, 
 And anon the sturdy strokes ring upon the wintry air : 
 Eagerly the village school-boys cluster on the tightened rope. 
 Shouting, and bending to the pull, or lifted from the ground 
 
 ela:5tic ; 
 
 A
 
 OF y£::iTERDAy. I43 
 
 The huge tree bowelh like Sisera, boweth to its foes willi faiiU- 
 
 iiess, — 
 Its sinews crack,— ckep groans declare the reeling anguish uf 
 
 Goliath, 
 The wedge is driven home, — and the saw is at its heart, — and lo, 
 
 with solemn slowness. 
 The shuddering monarch riseth from his throne,— toppled w itli a 
 
 crash, — and is fallen ! 
 
 Now, shall the mangled stump teach proud man a lesson : 
 Now, can we from that elm-tree's sap distil the wine of Trulh. 
 Heed ye those hundred rings, concentric from the core, 
 Eddying in various waves to the red-bark's shore-like rim ? 
 These be the gatherings of yesterdays, present all to-day, 
 This is the tree's judgment, self-history that cannot be gainsaid : 
 Seven years agone there was a drought,— and the seventh ring is 
 
 narrowed ; 
 The fifth from hence was half a deluge,— the fifth is cellular and 
 
 broad : 
 Thus, Man, thou art a result, the growth of many yesterdays, 
 That stamp thy secret soul with marks of weal or woe : 
 Thou art an almanack of self, the living record of thy deeds ; 
 Spirit hath its scars as well as body, sore and aching in their 
 
 season : 
 Here is a knot,— it was a crime ; there is a canker,— selfishness ; 
 Lo, here, the heart-wood rotten, lo, there, perchance, the sap-woud 
 
 sound. 
 Nature teacheth not in vain ; thy works are in thee, of thee ; 
 Some present evil bent hath grown of older errors : 
 And what if thou be walking now uprightly? Sal\c not thy wounds 
 
 with poison, 
 As if a petty goodness of to-day hath blotted out the sin of yester- 
 day : 
 It is well, thou hast life and light ; and the Hewer showeth mercy. 
 Dressing the root, pruning the branch, and looking for thy tardy 
 
 fruits \ 
 But, even here as thou standest, cheerful belike and careless, 
 The stains of ancient evil are upon thee, the record of thy wrong 
 
 is in thee : 
 For, a curse of many yesterdays is thine, many yesterdays of sin, 
 That, haply little heeded nowi shall blast tliy many morrows. 
 
 # 
 
 T 
 
 4
 
 ^ 
 
 144 C/-' YESTEKDAY. 
 
 Shall then a man reck nothing, but hurl mad defiance at his Judge, 
 Knowing that less than an Omnipotent cannot make the has been, 
 
 not been ? 
 He ought, — so Satan spake ; he must, — so Atheism urgeth ; 
 He may, — it was the libertine's thought ; he doth, — the bad world 
 
 said it. 
 Eut thou of humbler heart, thou student wiser for simplicity, 
 While Nature wanieth thee betimes, heed the loving counsel of 
 
 Religion. 
 True, this change is good, and penitence most precious ; 
 But trust not thou thy change, nor rest upon repentance ; 
 For all we are corrupted at the core, smooth as surface seemeth ; 
 What health can bloom in a beautiful skin, when rottenness hath 
 
 fed upon the bones ? 
 And guilt is parcel of us all : not thou, sweet nursling of affection, 
 Art sjDOtless, though so passing fair, — nor thou, mild patriarch of 
 
 virtue. 
 
 Behold then the better Tree of Life, free unto us all for grafting. 
 Cut thee from the hollow root of self, to be budded on a richer 
 
 Vine. 
 Be desperate, O man, as of evil, so of good ; tear that tunic from 
 
 thee ; 
 The past can never be retrieved, be the present what it may. 
 Vain is the penance and the scourge, vain the fast and vigil : 
 The fencer's cautious skill to-day, can this erase his scars ? 
 It is Man's to famish as a faquir, it is Man's to die a devotee. 
 Light is the torture and the toil, balanced with the wages of 
 
 Eternity : 
 But, it is God's to yearn in love, on the humblest, the poorest, and 
 
 the worst. 
 For he giveth freely, as a king, asking only thanks for mercy. 
 Look upon this noble-hearted Substitute ; seeing thy woes, he 
 
 pitied thee. 
 Bowed beneath the mountain of thy sin, and perished — but for 
 
 Godhead ; ^ 
 
 There stood the Atlas in his power, and Prometheus in his love is 
 
 there, 
 Emptying on wretched men the blessings earned from heaven : 
 Put them not away, hide them in thy heart, poor and penitent 
 
 receiver,
 
 OF TO-DA Y. 145 
 
 Be gratitude thy counsellor to good, and wholesome fear unto 
 
 obedience ; 
 Remember, the pruning-knife is keen, cutting cankers even from 
 
 the vine ; 
 Rememljer, twelve were chosen, and one among them liveth — in 
 
 perdition. 
 
 Yea, — for standing unatoned, the soul is a bison on the prairie, 
 Hunted by those trooping wolves, the many sinful yesterdays : 
 And it speedeth a terrified Deucalion, flinging back the pebble in 
 
 his flight. 
 The pebble that must add one more to those pursuing ghosts. 
 O man, there is a storm behind should drive thy bark to haven ; 
 The foe, the foe is on thy track, patient, certain, and avenging ; 
 Day by day, solemnly, and silently, followeth the fearful past, — 
 His step is lame, but sure; for he catcheth the present in eternity : 
 And how to escape that foe, the present-past in future ? 
 How to avert that fate, living consequence of causes unexistent ? — 
 Boldly we must overleap his birth, and date above his memories, 
 Grafted on the living Tree, that was before a yesterday : 
 No refuge of a younger birth than one that saw creation 
 Can hide the child of time from still condemning yesterday : 
 There, is the Sanctuary-city, mocking at the v.'rath of thine 
 
 Avenger, 
 Close at hand, with the wicket on the latch ; haste for thy life, 
 
 poor hunted one ! 
 The gladiator, Guilt, fighteth as of old, armed with net and 
 
 dagger ; 
 Snaring in the mesh of yesterdays, stabbing with the poignard of 
 
 to-day : 
 Fly, thy sword is broken at the hilt ; fly, thy shield is shivered ; 
 Leap the barriers, and baffle him : the arena of the past is his. 
 The bounds of Guilt are the cycles of Time : thou must be safe 
 
 within Eternity ; 
 The arms of God alone shall rescue thee from Yesterday. 
 
 OF TO-DAY. 
 
 Now, is the constant syllable ticking from the clock of time. 
 
 Now, is the watchword of the wise. Now, is on the banner of the 
 
 prudent. 
 
 K 
 
 ■^ 
 
 A 
 
 #
 
 #■ 
 
 146 OF TO- DA y. 
 
 Cherish thy to-day and prize it well, or ever it be gulphed into the 
 
 past ; 
 Husband it, for who can promise, if it shall have a morrow ? 
 Toehold, thou art, — it is enough ; that present care be thine ; 
 Leave thou the past to thy Redeemer, entrust the future to thy 
 
 Friend ; 
 But for to-day, child of man, tend thou charily the minutes, 
 The harvest of thy yesterday, the seed-corn of thy morrow. 
 
 Last night died its day ; and the deeds thereof were judged : 
 Thou didst lay thee down as in a shroud, in darkness and death- 
 like slumber : 
 But at the trumpet of this morn, waking the world to resurrection, 
 Thou didst arise, like others, to live a new day's life : 
 Fear, lest folly give thee cause to mourn its passing presence, 
 Fear, that to-moiTow's sigh be not, would God it had not dawned ! 
 
 For, To-day the lists are set, and thou must bear thee bravely. 
 
 Tilting for honour, duty, life, or death without reproach : 
 
 To-day, is the trial of thy fortitude, O dauntless Mandan chief ; 
 
 To-day, is thy watch, O sentinel ; to-day, thy reprieve, O cap- 
 tive : 
 
 What more? to-day is the golden chance wherewith to snatch 
 fruition, — 
 
 Be glad, grateful, temperate : there are asps among the figs. 
 
 For the potter's clay is in thy hands, — to mould it or to mar it at 
 thy will, 
 
 Or idly to leave it in the sun, an uncouth lump to harden, 
 
 bright presence of To-day, let me wrestle with thee, gracious 
 
 angel, 
 
 1 will not let thee go, except thou bless me ; bless me, then, To- 
 
 day : 
 
 sweet garden of To-day, let me gather of thee, precious Eden ; 
 
 1 have stolen bitter knowledge, give me fruits of life To-day : 
 
 true temple of To-day, let me worship in thee, glorious Zion : 
 
 1 find none other place nor time, than where I am To-day : 
 
 living rescue of To-day, let me run into thee, ark of refuge : 
 
 1 see none other hope nor chance, but standeth in To-day : 
 
 rich banquet of To-day, let me feast upon thee, saving manna ; 
 
 1 have none other food nor store, but daily bread To-day ! 
 
 -^
 
 OF TO-DA y. 147 
 
 Behold, thou ait pilot of the ship, ami owner of that ficightal 
 
 galleon, 
 Competent, with all thy weakness, to steer into safety or be lost : 
 Compass and chart are in thy hand : roadstead and rocks thou 
 
 knowest ; 
 Thou art warned of reefs and shallows ; thou beholdest the harbour 
 
 and its lights. 
 What ? shall thy wantonness or sloth drive the gallant vessel on 
 
 the breakers ? 
 What ? sliall the helmsman's hand wear upon the black lee shore ? 
 Vain is that excuse ; thou canst escape : thy mind is responsible 
 
 for wrong : 
 Vain that murmur ; thou mayst live : thy soul is debtor for the 
 
 right. 
 To-day, in the voyage of thy life down the dark tide of time. 
 Stand boldly to thy tiller, guide thee by the pole-star, and be safe; 
 To-day, passing near the sunken rocks, the quicksands and whirl- 
 pools of probation, 
 Leave awhile the rudder to swing round, give the wind its heading, 
 
 and be wrecked. 
 
 The crisis of man's destiny is Now, a still recurring danger ; 
 Wlio can tell the trials and temptations coming with the coming 
 
 hour ? 
 Thou standest a target-like Sebastian, and the arrows whistle near 
 
 thee ; 
 Who knoweth when he may be hit ? for great is the company of 
 
 archers. 
 Each breath is burdened with a bidding, and every minute hath its 
 
 mission ; 
 For spirits, good and bad, cluster on the thickly-peopled air : 
 Sin may blast thee, grace may bless thee, good or ill this hour : 
 Chance, and change, and doubt, and fear, are parasites of all. 
 A man's life is a tower, with a staircase of many steps. 
 That, as he toileth upward, crumble successively behind him • 
 No going back ; the past is an abyss ; no stopping, for the present 
 
 perisheth ; 
 But ever hasting on, precarious on the foothold of To-day ; 
 Our cares are all To-day ; our joys are all To-day ; 
 A.nd in one little word, our life, what is it, but — To-day?
 
 148 OF TO-MORROW. 
 
 OF TO-MORROW. 
 There is a floating island, forward, on the stream of time. 
 Buoyant with fermenting air, and borne along the rapids ; 
 And on that island is a siren, singing sweetly as she goeth, 
 Her eyes are bright with invitation, and allurement lurketh in her 
 
 cheeks ; 
 Many lovers, vainly pursuing, follow her beckoning finger. 
 Many lovers seek her still, even to the cataract of death. 
 To-morrow is that island, a vain and foolish heritage, 
 And, laughing with seductive lips, Delusion hideth there. 
 Often, the precious present is wasted in visions of the future, 
 And coy To-morrow cometh not with prophecies fulfilled. 
 
 There is a fairy skiff, plying on the sea of life. 
 
 And charitably toiling still to save the shipwrecked crews j 
 
 Within, kindly patient, sitteth a gentle mariner. 
 
 Piloting, through surf and strait, the fragile barks of men : 
 
 How cheering is her voice, how skilfully she guideth. 
 
 How nobly leading onward yet, defying even death ! 
 
 To-morrow is that skiff, a wise and welcome rescue, 
 
 And, full of gladdening words and looks, that mariner is Hope. 
 
 Often, the painful present is comforted by flattering the future. 
 
 And kind To-morrow beareth half the burdens of To-day. 
 
 To-morrow, whispereth weakness : and To-mon'ow findeth him 
 
 the weaker ; 
 To-morrow, promiseth conscience, and behold, no to-day for a 
 
 fulfilment. 
 O name of happy omen unto youth, O bitter word of terror to the 
 
 dotard, 
 Goal of folly's lazy wish, and soitow's ever-coming friend. 
 Fraud's loophole, — caution's hint, — and trap to catch the 
 } honest, — 
 
 Thou wealth to many poor, disgrace to many noble. 
 
 Thou hope and fear, thou weal and woe, thou remedy, thou ruin. 
 
 How thickly swarms of thought are clustering round To-morrow. 
 
 The hive of memory increaseth, to every day its cell ; 
 
 There is the labour stored, the honey or corruption ; 
 
 Each morn the bees fly forth, to fill the growing comb, 
 
 And levy golden tribute of the uncomplaining flowers : m 
 
 ^, ^ ^
 
 ¥■ 
 
 OF TO-MORROW. 149 
 
 To-morrow is their care ; they toil for rest to-morrow ; 
 But man deferreth duty's task, and loveth ease to-day. 
 
 To-morrow is that lamp upon the marsh, which a traveller never 
 
 reacheth ; 
 To-morrow, the rainbow's cup, coveted prize of ignorance ; 
 To-morrow, tlie shifting anchorage, dangerous trust of mariners ; 
 To-morrow, the wrecker's beacon, wily snare of the destroyer. 
 Reconcile convictions with delay, and To-morrow is a fatal lie ; 
 Frighten resolutions into action. To-morrow is a wholesome truth ; 
 I must, for I fear To-morrow ; this is the Cassava's food ; 
 Why should I? let me trust To-morrow, — this is the Cassava's 
 
 poison. 
 
 Lo, it is the even of To-day, — a day so lately a To-morrow ; 
 Where are those high resolves, those hopes of yesternight ? 
 
 faint fond heart, still shall thy whisper be. To-morrow, 
 
 And must the growing avalanche of sin roll down that easy slope ? 
 
 Alas, it is ponderous, and moving on in might, that a Sisyphus 
 may not stop it ; 
 
 But haste thee with the lever of a prayer, and stem its strength To- 
 day : 
 
 For its race may speedily be run, and this poor hut, thyself, 
 
 Be whelmed in death and suffocating guilt, that dreary Alpine 
 snow-wreath. 
 
 Pensioner of life, be wise, and heed a brother's counsel ; 
 
 1 also am a beadsman, with scrip and staff as thou : 
 
 Wouldest thou be bold against the past, and all its evil memories, 
 
 Wouldest thou be safe amid the present, its dangers and tempta- 
 tions, 
 
 Wouldest thou be hopeful of the future, vague though it be and 
 endless ? 
 
 Haste thee, repent, believe, obey ! thou standest in the courage of 
 a legion. 
 
 Commend the Past to God, with all its irrevocable harm. 
 
 Humbly, but in cheerful trust, and banish vain regrets ; 
 
 Come to him, continually come, casting all the Present at his feet. 
 
 Boldly, but in prayerful love, and fling off selfish cares ; 
 
 Commit the Future to his will, the viewless fated future ; 
 
 Zealously go forward with integrity, av.d God will bless thy failli.
 
 *^ 150 OF AUTHORSIIir. ^ 
 
 For that, feeble as thou art, there is with thee a mighty Conqueror, 
 Thy friend, the same for ever, yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow ; 
 That friend, changeless as eternity, himself shall make thee friends 
 Of those thy foes transformed, yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow. 
 
 OF AUTHORSHIP. 
 
 Great is the dignity of Authorship : I magnify mine office ; 
 Albeit in much feebleness I hold it thus unworthily. 
 For it is to be one of a noble band, the welfare of the world, 
 Whose haunt is on the lips of men, whose dwelling in their hearts. 
 Who are precious in the retrospect of Memory, and walk among 
 
 the visions of Hope, 
 Who commune with the good for everlasting, and call the wisest, 
 
 brother, 
 Whose voice hath burst the Silence, and whose light is flung upon 
 
 the Darkness, 
 — Flashing jewels on a robe of black, and harmony bounding out 
 
 of chaos, — 
 W'ho gladden empires with their wisdom, and bless to the farthest 
 
 generation. 
 Doers of illimitable good, gainers of inestimable glory ! — 
 We speak but of the Magnates, we heed none humbler than the 
 
 highest, 
 We take no count of sorry scribes, nor waste one thought upon the 
 
 groundlings ; 
 Our eyes are lifted from the multitude, groping in the dark with 
 
 candles, 
 To gaze upon that firmament of praise, the constellated lamps of 
 
 learning. 
 Everduring witnesses of mind, undisputed evidence of Power, 
 Goodly volumes, living stones, build up their author's temple : 
 Though of low estate, his rank is above princes, — though needy he 
 
 hath worship of the rich, 
 When Genius unfurleth on the winds his banner as a mighty 
 
 leader. 
 Just in purpose, and self-possessed in soul, lord of many talents, 
 The mental Croesus goeth forth, rejoicing in his wealth ; 
 Keen and clear perception gloweth on his forehead like a sunbeam, 
 He readeth men at a glance, and mists roll away before him;
 
 ^ OF AUTHOKSHir. iqi ^ 
 
 The wise have set him as tlieir captain, the foolish arc rebuked at 
 
 his presence, 
 The excellent bless him with their prayers, and the wicked praise 
 
 him by their curses ; 
 His voice, mighty in operation, stirreth up the world as a trumpet. 
 And kings account it honour to be numbered of his friends. 
 
 Rare is the worthiness of Authorship : I justify mine office : 
 
 Albeit fancies weak as mine credit not the calling. 
 
 For it addeth immortality to dying facts, that are ready to vanisli 
 
 away. 
 Embalming as in amber the poor insects of an hour ; 
 Shedding upon stocks and stones the tender light of interest, 
 And illumining dark places of the earth, with radiance of classic 
 
 lustre. 
 It hath power to make past things present, and availcth for the 
 
 present in the future, 
 Delivering thoughts, and words, and deeds, from the outer dark- 
 ness of oblivion. 
 Where are the sages and the heroes, giants of old time ? — 
 "Where are the mighty kings, that reigned before Agamemnon ? — 
 Alas, they lie unwept, unhonoured, hidden in the midnight ; 
 Alas, for they died unchronicled : their memorial perished with 
 
 them. 
 Where are the nobles of Nineveh, and mitred rulers of Babylon? 
 Where are the lords of Edom, and the royal pontiffs of The- 
 
 bais ? 
 The golden Satrap, and the Tetrarch, — the Hun, and the Druid, 
 
 and the Celt ? 
 The merchant princes of Phoenicia, and the minds that fashioned 
 
 Elephanta ? 
 Alas, for the poet hath forgotten them ; and lo ! they are out- 
 casts of Memory ; 
 Alas, that they are withered leaves, sapless and fallen from the 
 
 chaplet of fame. 
 Speak, Etruria, whose bones be these, cntombetl with costly 
 
 care, — 
 Tell out, Herculaneum, the titles that have sounded in those thy 
 
 palaces, — 
 Lycian Xanthus, thy citadels are mute, and the honour of theif 
 
 architects hath died ; 
 
 V
 
 ^■ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
 152 OF AUTHORSHIP. 
 
 Copan and Palenque, dreamy ruins in the West, the forest hath 
 
 swallowed up your sculptures ; 
 Syracuse, — how silent of the past ! — Carthage, thou art blotted 
 
 from remembrance, — 
 Egypt, wondrous shores, ye are buried in the sand-hills of forget- 
 
 fulness ! 
 Alas, — for in your glorious youth, Time himself was young, 
 And none durst wrestle with that Angel, iron-sinewed bridegroom 
 
 of Space ; 
 So he flew by, strong upon the wing, nor dropped one failing 
 
 feather, 
 Wherewith some hoary scribe might register your honour and 
 
 renown. 
 Beyond the broad Atlantic, in the regions of the setting sun, 
 Ask of the plume-crowned Incas, that ruled in old Peru, — 
 Ask of grand Caciques, and priests of the pyramids in Mexico, — 
 Ask of a thousand painted tribes, high nobility of Nature, 
 Who, once, could roam their own Elysian plains, free, generous, 
 
 and happy. 
 Who now, degraded and in exile, having sold their fatherland for 
 
 nought. 
 Sink and are extinguished in the western seas, even as the sun they 
 
 follow, — 
 Where is the record of their deeds, their prowess worthy of 
 
 Achilles, 
 Nestor's wisdom, the chivalry of Manlius, the native eloquence of 
 
 Cicero, 
 The skill of Xenophon, the spirit of Alcibiades, the firmness of a 
 
 Maccabrean mother, 
 Brotherly love that Antigone might envy, the honour and the forti- 
 tude of Regulus ? 
 Alas, their glory and their praise have vanished like a summer 
 
 cloud ; 
 Alas ! that they are dead indeed ; they are not written down in 
 
 the Book of tlic living. 
 
 High is the privilege of Authorship : I purify mine office ; 
 
 Albeit earthly stains pollute it in my hands. 
 
 For it is to the world a teacher and a guide. Mentor of that gay 
 
 Telemachus ; 
 Warning, comforting, and helping, — a lover and friend of Man. 
 
 — ^
 
 OF A UTHORSIIIP. 1 53 
 
 Heaven's almoner, Earth's health, patient minister of goodness, 
 With kind and zealous pen, the wise religious blesseth : 
 Nature's worshipper, and neophyte of grace, rich in tender sym- 
 pathies. 
 With kindled soul and flashing eye, the poet poureth out his 
 
 heartful : 
 Priest of truth, champion of innocence, warder of the gates of 
 
 praise, 
 Carefully with dfting search laboureth the pale historian : 
 Error's enemy, and acolyte of science, firm in sober argument, 
 The calm philosopher marshalleth his facts, noting on his page 
 
 their principles. 
 These pour mercies upon men ; and others, little less in honour. 
 By cheerful wit and graphic tale refreshening the harassed spirit. 
 But, there be other some beside, buyers and sellers in the temple. 
 Who shame their high vocation, greedy of inglorious gain ; 
 There be, who fabricating books, heed of them meanly as of mer- 
 chandise ; 
 And seek nor use, nor truth, nor fame, but sell their minds for 
 
 lucre : 
 O false brethren ! ye wot indeed the labour, but are witless of the 
 
 love ; 
 O lying prophets, chilled in soul, unquickened by the life of in- 
 spiration ! — 
 And there be, who, frivolous and vain, seek to make others 
 
 foolish. 
 Snaring Youth by loose sweet Song, and Age by selfish maxim : 
 Cleverly heartless, and wittily profane, they swell the river of 
 
 corruption : 
 Brilliant satellites of sin, — my soul, be not found among their 
 
 company. 
 And there be, who, haters of religion, toil to prove it priestcraft. 
 Owning none other aim nor hope, but to confound the good : 
 Woe unto them ! for their works shall live ; yea, to their utter 
 
 condemnation : 
 Woe ! for their own handwriting shall testify against them for ever. 
 
 Pure is the happiness of Authorship : I glorify mine office ; 
 Albeit lightly having sipped the cup of its lower pleasures. 
 For it is to feel with a father's heart, when he yearneth on the 
 child of his affections ; 
 
 ^
 
 ^ 
 
 1 54 OF A UTHORSHIP. 
 
 To rejoice in a man's own miniature world, gladdened by its rare 
 arrangement. 
 
 The poem, is it not a fabric of mind ? we love what we create : 
 
 That choice and musical order,— how pleasant is the toil of com- 
 position ! 
 
 Yea, when the volume of the universe was blazoned out in beauty 
 by its Author, 
 
 God was glad, and blessed his work ; for it was very good. 
 
 And shall not the image of his Maker be happy in his own mind's 
 doing, 
 
 Looking on the structure he hath reared, gratefully with sweet 
 complacence ? 
 
 Shall not the Minerva of his brain, panoplied and perfect in pro- 
 portions, 
 
 Gladden the soul and give light unto the eyes, of him the travail- 
 ing parent ? 
 
 Go to the sculptor, and ask him of his dreams, — wherefore are his 
 nights so moonlit? 
 
 Angel faces, and beautiful shapes, fascinate the pale Pygmalion : 
 
 Go to the painter, and trace his reveries, — wherefore are his days 
 so sunny ? 
 
 Choice design and skilful colouring charm the flitting hours of 
 Parrhasius : 
 
 Even so, walking in his buoyancy, intoxicate with fairy fancies, 
 
 The young enthusiast of authorship goeth on his way rejoicing : 
 
 Behold, — he is gallantly attended ; legions of thrilling thoughts 
 
 Throng about the standard of his mind, and call his Will their 
 captain ; 
 
 Behold, — his court is as a monarch's j ideas, and grand imagina- 
 tions 
 
 Swell, with gorgeous cavalcade, the splendour of his Spiritual 
 State ; 
 
 Behold,— he is delicately served : for oftentimes, in solitary calm- 
 ness, 
 
 Some mental fair Egeria smileth on her Numa's worship ; 
 
 Beliokl, — he is happy ; there is gladness in his eye, and his heart 
 is a sealed fountain. 
 
 Bounding secretly with joys unseen, and keeping down its ecstasy 
 of pleasure ! 
 
 Yea : how dignified, and worthy, full of privilege and happiness,
 
 OF A UTHORSHIP. i 5 5 
 
 Standcln in majestic independence the self-ennobled Autlinr ! 
 P'or God hath blessed him with a mind, and cherished it in tender- 
 ness and purity, 
 Hath taught it in the whisperings of wisdom, and added all the 
 
 riches of content : 
 Therefore, leaning on his God, a pensioner for soul and body, 
 His spirit is the subject of none other, calling no man Master, 
 Tlis hopes are mighty and eternal, scorning small ambitions : 
 He hideth from the pettmess of praise, and pitieth the feebleness 
 
 of envy. 
 If he meet honours, well ; it may be his humility to take them : 
 If he be rebuked, better ; his veriest enemy shall teach him. 
 For the master-mind hath a birthright of eminence ; his cradle is 
 
 an eagle's eyrie : 
 Need but to wait till his wings are grown, and Genius soareth to 
 
 the sun : 
 To creeping things upon the mountain leaveth he the gradual ascent, 
 Resting his swiftness on the summit only for a higher flight. 
 Glad in clear good-conscience, lightly doth he look for commenda- 
 tion ; 
 What, if the prophet lacketh honour ? for he can spare that praise : 
 The honest giant careth not to be patted on the back by pigmies ; 
 Flatter greatness, he brooketh it good-humouredly : blame him,— 
 
 thou tiltest at a pyramid : 
 Yet, just censure of the good never can he hear without contrition ; 
 Neither would lie miss one wise man's praise, for scarce is that 
 
 jewel and costly : 
 Only for the herd of common minds, and the vulgar trumpetings 
 
 of fame. 
 If aught he heedeth in the matter, his honour is sought in their 
 
 neglect : 
 Slender is the marvel, and little is the glory, when round' his lus- 
 cious fruits 
 The worm and the wasp and the multitude of flies are gathered as 
 
 to banquet ; 
 Fashion's freak, and the critical sting, and the flood of flatteries he 
 
 scorneth ; 
 Cheerfully asking of the crowd the favour to forget him : 
 The while his blooming fmits ripen in richer fragrance, 
 A feast for the few,— and the many yet unborn,— who still shall 
 love their savour. 
 
 w
 
 ^- 
 
 156 OF MYSTERY. 
 
 So then, humbly with his God, and proudly independent of his 
 
 fellows, 
 Walketh, in pleasures multitudinous, the man ennobled by his 
 
 pen : 
 He hath built up, glorious architect, a monument more durable 
 
 than brass ; 
 His children's children shall talk of him in love, and teach their 
 
 sons his honour : 
 His dignity hath set him among princes, the universe is debtor to 
 
 his worth, 
 His privilege is blessing for ever, his happiness shineth now. 
 For he standeth of that grand Election, each man one among a 
 
 thousand, 
 Whose sound is gone out into all lands, and their words to the end 
 
 of the world ! 
 
 ^ 
 
 OF MYSTERY. 
 
 All things being are in mystery ; wc expound mysteries by mys- 
 teries ; 
 
 And yet the secret of them all is one in simple grandeur : 
 
 All Intricate, yet each path plain, to those who know the way ; 
 
 All unapproachable, yet easy of access, to them that hold the key : 
 
 We walk among labyrinths of wonder, but thread the mazes with a 
 clue ; 
 
 Wc sail in chartless seas, but behold ! the pole-star is above us. 
 
 For, counting down from God's good will, thou meltest every 
 riddle into Him, 
 
 The axiom of reason is an undiscovered God, and all things live in 
 Ills ubiquity : 
 
 There is only one great secret ; but that one hideth everywhere. 
 
 How should the infinite be understood in Time, when it stretcheth 
 on ungrasped for ever ? 
 
 Can a halting CEdipus of earth guess that enigma of the universe ? 
 
 Not one : the sword of faith must cut the Gordian knot of nature. 
 
 God, pervading all, is in all things the mystery of each ; 
 The wherefore of its character and essence, the fountain of its vir- 
 tues and its beauties. 
 The child asketh of its mother, — Wherefore is the violet so sweet.'
 
 OF MYSTERY. 157 
 
 The mother atiswereth her babe, — Darling, God hath ■willed it. 
 And sages, diving into science, liave but a profundity of words, 
 They track for some few links the circling chain of consequence, 
 And then, after doubts and disputations, are left where they began, 
 At the bald conclusion of a clown, things are because they are. 
 Wherefore are the meadows green, is it not to gratify the eye ? 
 But why should greenness charm the eye ? such is God's good 
 
 will. 
 Wherefore is the ear attuned to a pleasure in musical sounds, 
 And who set a number to those sounds, and fixed the laws of har- 
 mony ? 
 Who taught the bird to build its nest, or lent the shrub its life, 
 Or poised in the balances of order the power to attract and to 
 
 repel ? 
 Who continueth the worlds, and the sea, and the heart, in motion? 
 Who commanded gravitation to tie down all upon its sphere ? — 
 For even as a limestone cliff is an aggregate of countless shells. 
 One riddle concrete of many, a mystery compact of mysteries. 
 So God, cloudcapped in immensity, standeth the cohesion of all 
 
 things, 
 And secrets, sublimely indistinct, permeate that Universe, Him- 
 self: 
 As is the whole, so are the parts, whether they be mighty or 
 
 minute, 
 The sun is not more unexplained than the tissue of an emmet's 
 wing. 
 
 Thus then, omnipresent Deity worketh his unbiassed mind, 
 
 A mind, one in moral, but infinitely multiplied in means : 
 
 And the uniform prudence of his will cometh to be counted law. 
 
 Till mutable man fancieth volition stirring in the potter's clay : 
 
 God, a wise father, showeth not his reasons to his babes ; 
 
 But willeth in secresy and goodness : for causes generate dispute : 
 
 Then we, his darkling children, watch that invariable purpose. 
 
 And invest the passive creature with its Maker's energy and skill. 
 
 Therefore, they of old time stopped short of God in idols. 
 
 Therefore, in these latter days, we heed not the Jehovah in his 
 
 works. 
 Mystery is God's great name ; He is the mystery of goodness : 
 Some other, from the hierarclis of heaven, usurped llic mystery of 
 
 sin. 
 
 ■+
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 15S OF MYSTERY. 
 
 God is the King, yea, even of himself ; he crowned himself with 
 
 holiness ; 
 The burning circlet of iniquity another found and wore. 
 God is separate, even from his attributes ; but he willed eternally 
 
 the good ; 
 Therefore freely, though imchangeably, is wise, righteous, and 
 
 loving : 
 But ambition, open unto angels, saw the evil, flung aside from the 
 
 beginning, 
 It was Lucifer that saw, and nothing loathed those black unclaimed 
 
 regalia, 
 So he coveted and stole, to be counted for a king, antagonist of 
 
 God, 
 But when he touched the leprous robes, behold, a cheated traitor. 
 
 For self-existence, charactered with love, with power, wisdom, and 
 
 ubiquity, 
 Could not dwell alone, but willed and worked creation : 
 Thus, in continual exhalation, darkening the void with matter, 
 .Sprang from prolific Deity the creatures of his skill : 
 And beings living on his breath, Mxre needfully less perfect than 
 
 himself, 
 Therefore less capable of bliss, whereat His benevolence was 
 
 bounded ; 
 So to make the capability expand, intensely progressive to eternity. 
 He suffered darkness to illustrate the light, and pain to heighten 
 
 pleasure : 
 To heap up happiness on souls he loved, allowed he sin and 
 
 sorrow. 
 And then to guilt and grief and shame, he brought unbidden am- 
 nesty : 
 Sinless, none had been redeemed, nor wrapt again in God : 
 Sorrowless, no conflict had been known, and Heaven had been 
 
 mulcted of its comfort : 
 Yea, with evil unexhibited, probationary toils unfelt. 
 Men had not appreciated good, nor angels valued their securityo 
 Herein, to reason's eye, is revealed the mystery of goodness 
 Blessing, through permitted woe, and teaching by the mystery of 
 
 sin. 
 
 O Christian, whose chastened curiosity loveth things mysterious,
 
 OF MYSTERY. 159 
 
 Accounting them shadows and eclipses of Him the one great light, 
 Look now, satisfied with faith, on minds that judge by sense. 
 And, dull from contemplating matter, take small heed of spirit. 
 Toiling feebly upward, their argument tracketh from below, 
 They catch the latest consequent, and prove the nearest cause : 
 What is this ? that a seed produced a seed, and so for a thousand 
 
 seasons ; 
 Ascend a thousand steps, thy ladder leaveth thee in air : 
 Thou canst not climb to God, and short of Him is nothing ; 
 There is no cause for auglit we see, but in his present will. 
 Begin from the Maker, thou carriest down his attributes to reptiles, 
 The sharded beetle and the lizard live and move in Him : 
 Begin from the creature, corruption and infirmity mar thy foolish 
 
 toil. 
 Heap Ossa on Olympus, how much art thou nearer to the stars? 
 It is easy running from a mountain's top down to the valleys at its 
 
 foot. 
 But difficult and steep the laborious ascent, and feebly shalt thou 
 
 reach it ; 
 Yet man, beginning from himself, that first deluding mystery, 
 Hopeth from the pit of lies to struggle up to truth ; 
 So, taxing knowledge to its strength, he pusheth one step further, 
 And fancieth complacently that much is done by reaching a remote 
 
 effect : 
 Then he maketh answer to himself, as a silly nurse to her little 
 
 one, 
 Evading, in a mist of words, hard things he cannot solve ; 
 Till, like an ostrich in the desert, he burieth his head in atoms, 
 Thinking that, if he is blind, no sun can shine in heaven. 
 
 Thei-efore cometh it to pass, that an atheist is ever the most 
 credulous, 
 
 .Snatching at any foolish cause, that may dispel his doubts ; 
 
 And, even as it were for ridicule, a spectacle to men and angels. 
 
 The captious and cautious unbeliever is of all men weakest to 
 believe : 
 
 Cut from the anchorage of God, his bark is a plaything of the 
 billows ; 
 
 The compass of his principle is broken, the rudder of his faith un- 
 shipped : 
 
 Chance and Fate, in a stultified antagonism, govern all for him ; 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^
 
 #- 
 
 i6o OF MYSTERY. 
 
 Truth sprang from the conflict of falsities, and the multitude of 
 
 accidents hath bred design ! 
 Where is the imposture so gross, that shall not entrap his curiosity ? 
 What superstition is so abject, that it doth not blanch his cheek ? 
 Wliereof can he be sure, with whom Chaos is substitute for Order? 
 How should his silly structure stand, a pyramid built upon its 
 
 apex ? — 
 Yea, I have seen grey-headed men, the bastard slips of science. 
 Go for light to glow-worms, while they scorn the sun at noon : 
 Men, who fear no God, trembling at a gipsy's curse. 
 Men, who jest at revelation, clinging to a madman's prophecy ! 
 
 There is a pleasing dread in the fashion of all mysteries, 
 
 Por hope is mixed therein and fear ; who shall divine their issues? 
 
 Even the orphan, wandering by night, lost on dreary moors, 
 
 Is sensible of some vague bliss amidst his shapeless terrors ; 
 
 The buoyancy of instant expectation, spurring on the mind to 
 
 venture, 
 Overbeareth, in its energy, the cramp and the chill of apprehen- 
 sion. 
 There is a solitary pride, when the heart, in new importance, 
 Writeth gladly on its archives, the secrets none other men have 
 
 seen : 
 And there is a caged terror, evermore wrestling with the mind. 
 When crime hath whispered his confession, and the secrets are 
 
 written there in blood : 
 The village maiden is elated at a tenderly confided tale : 
 The bandit's wife with sickening fear guessed the premeditated 
 
 murder : 
 The sage, with triumph on his brow, hideth up his deep discovery ; 
 The idlest clown shall delve all day, to find a hidden treasure. 
 
 For mystery is man's life ; we wake to the whisperings of novelty : 
 And what, though we lie down disappointed ? M-e sleep, to wake 
 
 in hope. 
 The letter, or the news, the chances and the changes, matters that 
 
 may happen. 
 Sweeten or embitter daily life with the honey-gall of mystery. 
 For we walk blindfold, — and a minute may be much, — a step may 
 
 reach the precipice ; 
 What earthly loss, what heavenly gain, may not this day produce?
 
 ■^ 
 
 ^ OF MYSTERY. i6i 
 
 Levelled of Alps and Andes, witliout its valleys and ravines, 
 
 How dull the face of earth, unfeatured of both beauty and sub- 
 limity : 
 
 And so, shorn of mystery, beggared in its hopes and fears. 
 
 How flat the prospect of existence, mapped by intuitive fore- 
 knowledge. 
 
 Praise God, creatures of earth, for the mercies linked with secresy, 
 
 That spices of uncertainty enrich the cup of life ; 
 
 Praise God, his hosts on high, for the mysteries that make all joy; 
 
 ^Vhat were intelligence, with nothing more to learn, or heaven, in 
 eternity of sameness ? 
 
 To number every mystery were to sum the sum of all things ; 
 None can exhaust a theme, whereof God is example and similitude : 
 Nevertheless, take a garland from the garden, a handful from the 
 
 harvest. 
 Some scattered drops of spray from the ceaseless mighty cataract : 
 Whence are we, — whither do we tend, — how do we feel, and 
 
 reason ? 
 How strange a thing is man, a spirit saturating clay ! 
 When doth soul make embryos immortal, — how do they rank 
 
 hereafter, — 
 And "will the unconscious idiot be quenched in death as nothing ? 
 In essence immaterial, are these minds, as it were, thinking 
 
 machines ? 
 For, to understand may but rightly be to use a mechanism all 
 
 possess, 
 So that in reading or hearing of anothei-, a man shall seem unto 
 
 himself 
 To be recollecting images or arguments, native and congenial to 
 
 his mind : 
 And yet, what shall we say, — who can arede the riddle ? 
 The brain may be clockwork, and mind its spring, mechanism 
 
 quickened by a spirit. 
 
 Who so shrewd as rightly to divide life, instinct, reason ; 
 
 Trees, zoophytes, creatures of the plain, and savage men among 
 
 them ? 
 Hath the mimosa instinct, — or the scallop more than life, — 
 Or the dog less than reason, — or the brute-man more than instinct ? 
 What is the cause of health, — and the gendering of disease? 
 
 H ^ '- ^
 
 i 
 
 -WH- 
 
 162 OF MYSTERY. 
 
 Why should arsenic kill, and whence is the potency of antidotes? 
 
 Behold, a morsel, — eat and die : the term of thy probation is ex- 
 pired : 
 
 Behold, a potion, — drink and be alive ; the limit of thy trial is en- 
 larged. 
 
 Who can expound beauty? or explain the character of nations? 
 
 Who will furnish a cause for the epidemic force of fashion ? 
 
 Is there a moral magnetism living in the light of example ? 
 
 Is practice electricity ? — Yet all these are but names. 
 
 Doth normal Art imprison, in its works, spirit translated into sub- 
 stance. 
 
 So that the statue, the picture, or the poem, are crystals of the 
 mind ? 
 
 And doth Philosophy with sublimating skill shred away the 
 matter, 
 
 Till rarefied intelligence exudeth even out of stocks and stones ? 
 
 O mysteries, ye all are one, the mind of an inexplicable Architect 
 Dwelleth alike in each, quickening and moving in them all. 
 Fields, and forests, and cities of men, their woes and wealth and 
 
 works. 
 And customs, and contrivances of life, with all we see and know. 
 For a little way, a little while, ye hang dependent on each other. 
 But all are held in one right-hand, and by his will ye are. 
 Here is answer unto mystery, an unintelligible God, 
 This is the end and the beginning, it is reason that He be not 
 
 understood. 
 Therefore it were probable and just, even to a man's weak thinking, 
 To have one for God who always may be learnt, yet never fully 
 
 known : 
 That He, from whom all mysteries spring, in whom they all con- 
 verge, 
 Throned in his sublimity beyond the grovellings of lower intellect. 
 Should claim to be truer than man's truest, the boasted certainty 
 
 of numbers, 
 Should baffle his ai'ithmetic, confound his demonstrations, and 
 
 paralyse the might of his necessity, 
 Standing supreme as the mystery of mysteries, everywhere, yet 
 
 impersonate. 
 Essential one in three, essential three in one ! 

 
 OF GIFTS. 163 
 
 OF GIFTS. 
 
 I HAD a seeming friend ; — I gave him gifts, and he was gone ; 
 
 I had an open enemy ; — I gave him gifts, and won him : 
 
 Common friendship standeth on equahties, and cannot bear a debt ; 
 
 But the very heart of hate melteth at a good man's love : 
 
 Go to, then, thou that sayest, — I will give and rivet the links : 
 
 For pride shall kick at obligation, and push the giver from him. 
 
 The covetous spirit may rejoice, revelling in thy largess, 
 
 But chilling selfishness will mutter, — I must give again : 
 
 Tlie vain heart may be glad, in tliis new proof of man's esteem, 
 
 But the same idolatry of self abhorreth thoughts of thanking. 
 
 Nevertheless, give ; for it shall be a discriminating test 
 Separating honesty from falsehood, weeding insincerity from 
 
 friendship. 
 Give, it is like God ; thou weariest the bad with benefits • 
 Give, it is like God ; thou gladdenest the good by gratitude. 
 Give to thy near of kin, for providence hath stationed thee his 
 
 helper : 
 Yet see that he claim not as his right, thy freewill offering of 
 
 duty. 
 Give to the young, they love it ; neither hath the poison of sus- 
 picion 
 Spoilt the flavour of their thanks, to look for latent motives. 
 Give to merit, largely give ; his conscious heart will bless tliee : 
 It is not flattery, but love, — the sympathy of men his brethren. 
 Give, for encouragement in good ; the weak desponding mind 
 Hath many foes, and much to do, and leaneth on its friends. 
 Yet heed thou wisely these ; give seldom to thy better ; 
 For such obtrusive boon shall savour of presumption ; 
 Or, if his courteous bearing greet thy proffered kindness, 
 Shall not thine independent honesty be vexed at the semblance of 
 
 a bribe ? 
 Moreover, heed thou this ; give to thine equal charily, 
 The occasion fair and fitting, the gift well chosen and desired : 
 Hath he been prosperous and blest ? a flower may show thy glad- 
 ness ; 
 Is he in need ? with liberal love, tender him the well filled purse : 
 Disease shall welcome friendly care in grapes and precious un- 
 guents ; 
 
 ^ 
 
 4-
 
 ^ 
 
 4^ 
 
 164 OF GIFTS. 
 
 And where a darling child hath died, give praise, and hope, and 
 
 sympathy. 
 Yet once more, heed thou this ; give to the poor discreetly, 
 N"or suffer idle sloth to lean upon thy charitable arm : 
 To diligence give, as to an equal, on just and fit occasion ; 
 Or he bartereth his hard-earned self-reliance for the casual lottery 
 
 of gifts. 
 The timely loan hath added nerve, where easy liberality would 
 
 palsy ; 
 Work and wages make a light heart ; but the mendicant asked 
 
 with a heavy spirit. 
 A man's own self-respect is worth unto him more than money, 
 And evil is the charity that humbleth, and maketh man less 
 
 happy. 
 
 There are who sow liberalities, to reap the like again ; 
 
 But men accept his boon, scorning the shallow usurer : 
 
 I have known many such a fisherman lose his golden baits ; 
 
 And oftentimes the tame decoy escapeth with the flock. 
 
 Yea, there are who give unto the poor, to gain large intere.:it of 
 
 God, — 
 Fool, — to think His wealth is money, and not mind : 
 And haply after thine alms, thy calculated givings, 
 The hurricane shall blast thy crops, and sink the homeward ship : 
 Then shall thy worldly soul murmur that the balances were false. 
 Thy trader's mind shall think of God, — He stood not to his bar- 
 
 Give, saith the preacher, be large in liberality, yield to the holy 
 impulse, 
 
 Tarry not for cold consideration, but cheerfully and freely scatter. 
 
 So, for complacency of conscience, in a gush of counterfeited 
 charity. 
 
 He that hath not wherewith to be just, selfishly presumeth to be 
 generous : 
 
 The debtor, and the rich by wrong, are known among the band of 
 the benevolent ; 
 
 And men extol the noble hearts, who rob that tliey may give. 
 
 Receivers are but little prone to challenge rights of giving, 
 
 Nor stop to test, for conscience' sake, the righteousness of mam- 
 mon : 
 
 -4
 
 OF GIFTS, 163 
 
 And the zealot in a cause is a receiver, at tlic liand which liettereth 
 his cause ; 
 
 And thus an unsiispected bribe shall blind the good man's judg- 
 ment : 
 
 It is easy to excuse greatness, and the rich are readily forgiven : 
 
 "What, if his gains were evil, sanctified by using them aright ? 
 
 O slxillow flatterer, self-interest is thy thought. 
 
 Hopeless of partaking in the like, thou too wouldest scorn the giver. 
 
 Money hath its value ; and the scatterer thereof his thanks : 
 Few men, drinking at a rivulet, stop to consider its source. 
 The hand that closeth on an aim, be it for necessities or zeal, 
 Hath small scruple whence it came : Vespasian rejoiceth in his 
 
 tribute. 
 Therefore have colleges and hospitals risen upon orphans' wrongs, 
 Chapels and cathedrals have thriven on the welcome wages of 
 
 iniquity, 
 Ard fraud, in evil compensation, hath salved his guilty conscience, 
 Not by restoring to the cheated, but by ostentatious giving to the 
 
 grateful. 
 
 So, those who reap rejoice ; and reaping, bless the sower : 
 
 No one is eager to discover, where discovery tendeth unto loss : 
 
 Vet, if knowledge of a theft made gainers thereby guilty, 
 
 Can he be altogether innocent, who never asked the honesty of 
 
 gain ? 
 Therefore, O preacher, zealous for charity, temper thy warm ap- 
 peal,— 
 Warning the debtor and unjustly rich, they may not dare to give : 
 To do good is a privilege and guerdon : how shouldest thou re- 
 joice 
 If ill-got gifts of presumptuous fraud be offered on the altar? 
 The question is not of degrees ; unhallowed alms are evil ; 
 Discourage and reject alike the obolus, or talent, of iniquity. 
 
 Yet more, be careful that, unworthily, thou gain not an advantage 
 
 over weakness, 
 Unstable souls, fervent and profuse, fluttered by the feeling of the 
 
 moment ; 
 For eloquence swayeth to its \\\\\ the feeble and the conscious of 
 
 defect : 
 
 ■^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■4
 
 i66 OF GIFTS. 
 
 Rashly give they, and afterward are sad, — a gift that doubly erred. 
 It was the world liness of priestcraft that accounted almsgiving foi 
 
 charity ; 
 And many a father's penitence hath steeped his son in penury ; 
 Yet, considered he liglitly the guilt of a death-bed selfislmess 
 That strove to take with him, for gain, the gold no longer his ; 
 So he died in a false peace, and dying robbed his kindred : 
 The cunning friar at his side having cheated both the living and 
 
 the dead. 
 
 Charity sitteth on a fair hill-top; blessing far and near, 
 
 But her garments drop ambrosia, chiefly, on the violets around 
 her : 
 
 She gladdeneth indeed the maplike scene, stretching to the verge 
 of the horizon, 
 
 For her angel face is lustrous and beloved, even as the moon in 
 heaven : 
 
 Eut the light of that beatific vision gloweth in serener concen- 
 tration 
 
 Tlie nearer to her heart, and nearer to her home, — that hill-top 
 where she sitteth : 
 
 Therefore is she kind imto her kin, yearning in affection on her 
 neighbours. 
 
 Giving gifts to those around, who know and love her well. 
 
 But the counterfeit of charity, an hypocrite of earth, not a grace of 
 heaven, 
 
 Seeketh not to bless at home, for her nearer aspect is ill-favoured : 
 
 Therefore hideth she for shame, counting that pride humility. 
 
 And none of those around her heartli are gladdened by her gifts : 
 
 Rather, with an overreaching zeal, flingeth she her bounty to the 
 stranger, 
 
 And scattered prodigalities abroad compensate for meanness in her 
 home : 
 
 For benefits showered on the distant shine in unmixed beauty. 
 
 So that even she may reap their undiscerning praise : 
 
 Therefore native want hath pined, where foreign need was fat- 
 tened : 
 
 Woman been crushed by the tyrannous hand that upheld the flag 
 of liberality ; 
 
 Poverty been prisoned up and starved, by hearts that are maudlin 
 upon crime ;
 
 OF BEAUTY. 167 
 
 And freeborn babes been manacled by men, who liberate the 
 sturdy slave. 
 
 Policy counselleth a gift, given Svisely and in season, 
 
 And policy afterwards approveth it, for great is the influence of 
 gifts. 
 
 The lover, unsmiled upon before, is welcome for his jewelled 
 bauble ; 
 
 Tlie righteous cause without a fee, must yield to boimteous guilt : 
 
 How fair is a man in thine esteem, whose just discrimination 
 seeketh thee, 
 
 And so, discerning merit, honoureth it with gifts ! 
 
 Yea, let the cause appear sufficient, and the motive clear and un- 
 suspicious. 
 
 As given unto one who cannot help, or proving honest thanks, 
 
 There liveth not one among a million, who is proof against the 
 charm of liberality, 
 
 And flattery, that boon of praise, hath power witli the wisest. 
 
 Man is of three natures, craving all for charity : 
 
 It is not enough to give him meats, withholding other comfort ; 
 
 For the mind starveth, and the soul is scorned, and so the human 
 
 animal 
 Eateth his unsatisfying pittance, a thankless, heartless pauper : 
 Yet would he bless thee and be grateful, didst thou feed his spirit. 
 And teach him that thine almsgivings are charities, are loves : 
 — I saw a beggar in the street, and another beggar pitied him ; 
 Sympathy sank into his soul, and the pitied one felt happier : 
 Anon passed by a cavalcade, children of wealth and gaiety ; 
 They laughed and looked upon the beggar, and the gallants flung 
 
 him gold ; 
 He, poor spirit-humbled wretch, gathered up their givings with a 
 
 curse, 
 .\nd went— to share it with his brother, the beggar who had 
 
 pitied him ! 
 
 ¥ 
 
 OF BEAUTY. 
 
 Thou mightier than Manoah's son, whence is thy great strength, 
 And wherein the secret of thy craft, O charmer charming wisely?— 
 
 ■^
 
 #■ 
 
 - 1 68 OF BEAUTY. 
 
 ^ox tliou art strong in weakness, and in artlessness well-skilled, 
 Constant in the multitudes of cliange, and simple amidst intricate 
 
 complexity. 
 Folly's shallow lip can ask the deepest question, 
 And many wise in many words should answer, what is beauty ? — 
 Who shall separate the hues that flicker on a dying dolphin, 
 Or analyse the jewelled lights that deck the peacock's train, 
 Or shrewdly mix upon a pallette the tints of an iridescent spar. 
 Or set in rank the wandering shades about a watered silk? 
 
 For beauty is intangible, vague, ill to be defined ; 
 She hath the coat of a chameleon, changing while we watch it. 
 .Strangely woven is the web, disorderly yet harmonious, 
 A glistering robe of mingled mesh, that may not be unravelled. 
 It is shot with heaven's blue, the soul of summer skies, 
 And twisted strings of light, tlie mind of noonday suns, 
 And ruddy gleams of life, that roll along the veins ; 
 A coat of many colours, running curiously together. 
 There is threefold beauty for man ; twofold beauty for the animal ; 
 And the beauty of inanimates is single : body, temper, spirit. 
 Multiplied in endless combination, issue the changeable results ; 
 Each class verging on the other twain, with imperceptible grada- 
 tion ; 
 And every individual in each having his propriety of difference, 
 So that the meanest of creation bringeth in a tribute of the beau- 
 tiful 
 Yea, from the worst in favour shineth out n fitness of design. 
 The patent mark of beauty, its Maker's name imprest. 
 For the great Creator's seal is set to all his works ; 
 Its quarterings are Attributes of praise, and all the shield is beauty : 
 So, that heraldic blazon is Creation's common signet ; 
 And the universal family of life goeth in the colours of its Lord : 
 But each one, as a several son, shall bear those arms with a dif- 
 ference ; 
 Beauty, various in phase, and similar in seeming oppositions. 
 The coins of old Rome were struck with a diversity for each, 
 2arely two be found alike, in every Caesar's image : 
 So, note thou the seals, ranged round the charters of the Uni- 
 verse, 
 Tlie finger of God is the stamp upon them all, but each hath its 
 separate variety.
 
 OF BEAUTY. 169 
 
 Beauty, theme of innocence, how may guilt discourse thee? 
 
 Let lioly angels sing tliy praise, for man hath marred thy visage. 
 
 Still the maimed torso of a Theseus can gladden taste with its pro- 
 portions ; 
 
 Though sin hath shattered every limb, how comely are the frag- 
 ments ! 
 
 And music leaveth on the ear a memory of sweet sounds , 
 
 And broken arches charm the sight with hints of fair completeness. 
 
 So, while humbled at the ruin, be thou grateful for the relics ; 
 
 Go forth, and look on all around with kind uncaptious eye : 
 
 Freely let us wander through these unfrequented ways, 
 
 And talk of glorious beauty filling all the world. 
 
 For beauty hideth everywhere, that Reason's child may seek her, 
 And having found the gem of price, may set it in God's crown. 
 Beauty nestleth in the rosebud, or walketh the firmament with 
 
 planets. 
 She is heard in the beetle's evening hymn, and shouteth in the 
 
 matins of the sun ; 
 The cheek of the peach is glowing with her smile, her splendour 
 
 blazeth in the lightning. 
 She is the dryad of the woods, the naiad of the streams ; 
 Her golden hair hath tapestried tlie silkworm's silent chamber. 
 And to her measured harmonies the wild waves beat in time ; 
 With tinkling feet at eventide she danceth in the meadow, 
 Or, like a Titan, lieth stretched athwart the ridgy Alps ; 
 She is rising, in her veil of mist, a Venus from the waters, — 
 Men gaze upon the loveliness, — and lo, it is beautiful exceedingly ; 
 She, with the might of a Briareus, is dragging down the clouds 
 
 upon the mountain, — - 
 Men look upon the grandeur, — and lo, it is excellent in glory. 
 For I judge that beauty and sublimity be but the lesser and the 
 
 great, 
 Sublime as magnified to giants, and beautiful, diminished into 
 
 fairies. 
 It were a false fancy to solve all beauty by desire. 
 It were a lowering thought to expound sublimity by dread. 
 Cowardly men with trembling hearts have feared the furious storm. 
 Nor felt its thrilling beauty ; but is it then not beautiful ? 
 And careless men, at summer's eve, have loved tlie dimpled 
 
 waves ; 
 
 ■^ 
 
 4
 
 ^ 
 
 4- 
 
 170 OF BEAUTY, 
 
 O that smile upon the seas, — hath it no sublimity? 
 Dost thou nothing know of this, — to be awed at woman's beauty? 
 Nor, with exhilarated heart, to hail the crashing thunder ? 
 Thou hast much to learn, that never found a fearfulness in flowers ; 
 Thou hast missed of joy, that never basked in beauties of the 
 terrible. 
 
 Show me an enthusiast in aught ; he hath noted one thing 
 
 narrowly, 
 And lo, his keenness hath detected the one dear hiding-place of 
 
 beauty : 
 Then he boasteth, simple soul, flattered by discovery, 
 Fancying that no science else can show so fair and precious : 
 He hath found a ray of light, and cherisheth the treasure in his 
 
 closet. 
 Mocking at those larger minds, that bathe in floods of noon ; 
 Lo, what a jewel hath he gotten, — this is the monopolist of 
 
 beauty, — 
 And lightly heeding all beside, he poured his yearnings thither- 
 ward : 
 Be it for love, or for learning, habit, art, or nature, 
 Exclusive thought is all the cause of this particular zeal. 
 But the like intensity of fitness, kind and skilful beauty, 
 So pleasant to his mind in one thing, filleth all beside : 
 From the waking minute of a chrysalis, to the perfect cycle of 
 
 chronology. 
 From the centipede's jointed armour, to the mammoth's fossil ribs, 
 From the kingfisher's shrill note, to the cataract's thundering bass. 
 From the greensward's grateful hues, to tlie fascinating eye of 
 
 woman. 
 Beauty, various in all things, setteth up her home in each, 
 Shedding graciously around an omnipresent smile. 
 
 There is beauty in the rolling clouds, and placid shingle beach. 
 In feathery snows, and whistling winds, and dun electric skies ; 
 There is beauty in the rounded woods, dank with heavy foliage, 
 In laughing fields, and dinted hills, the valley and its lake ; 
 There is beauty in the gullies, beauty on the cliffs, beauty in sun 
 
 and shade. 
 In rocks and rivers, seas and plains,— the earth is drowned in 
 
 beautv.
 
 ^ 
 
 OF BEAUTY. 171 
 
 Bcnuty coiletli with the wntersnake, and is cradled in the shrew- 
 mouse's nest, 
 
 Slie flitteth out with evening bats, and the soft mole hid her in 
 his tunnel ; 
 
 The limpet is encamped upon the shore, and beauty not a stranger 
 to his tent ; 
 
 The silvery dace and golden carp thread the rushes with her : 
 
 She saileth into clouds with an eagle, she fluttereth into tulips 
 with a humming bird ; 
 
 The pasturing kine are of her company, and she prowleth \\\i\\ tlie 
 leopard in his jungle. 
 
 Moreover, for the reasonable world, its words, and acts, and 
 
 speculation. 
 For frail and fallen manhood, in his every work and way, 
 Beauty, wrecked and stricken, lingereth still among us, 
 And morsels of that shattered sun are dropt upon tire darkness. 
 Yea, with savages and boors, the mean, the cruel, and besotted. 
 Ever, in extenuating grace hide some relics of the beautiful. 
 Gleams of kindness, deeds of courage, patience, justice, generosity. 
 Truth welcomed, knowledge prized, rebukes taken with contrition, 
 All, in various measure, have been blest with some of these, 
 And never yet hath lived the man, utterly beggared of the beauti- 
 ful. 
 
 Beauty is as crystal in the torchlight, sparkling on the poet's page ; 
 Virgin honey of Hymettus, distilled from the lips of tlie orator ; 
 A savour of sweet spikenard, anointing the hands of liberality ; 
 A feast of angel's food set upon the tables of religion. 
 She is seen in the tear of sorrow, and heard in the exuba-ance of 
 
 mirth ; 
 She goeth out early with the huntsman, and watcheth at the pillow 
 
 of disease. 
 Science in his secret laws hath found out latent beauty. 
 Sphere and square, and cone and curve, are fashioned by her rules : 
 Mechanism met her in his forces, fancy caught her in its flittings. 
 Day is lightened by her eyes, and her eyelids close upon the night. 
 
 Beauty is dependence in the babe, a toothless tender nurseli^-ig ; 
 Beauty is boldness in the boy, a curly rosy truant ; 
 Beauty is modesty and grace in fair retiring girlliood,
 
 '^• 
 
 ^ 
 
 1 72 OF BEA UTY. 
 
 Beauty is openness and strength 111 pure highmindecl youth ; 
 Man, the noble and intelligent, gladdeneth earth in beauty, 
 And woman's beauty sunneth him, as with a smile from heaven. 
 
 There is none enchantment against beauty. Magician for all time, 
 Whose potent spells of sympathy have charmed the passive world ; 
 Verily, she reigneth a Semiramis ; there is no might against her ; 
 The lords of every land are harnessed to her triumph. 
 Beauty is conqueror of all, nor ever yet was found among the 
 
 nations 
 That iron-moulded mind, full proof against her power. 
 Beauty, like a summer's day, subdueth by sweet influences ; 
 Who can wrestle against Sleep? — yet is that giant, very gentleness, 
 
 Ajax may rout a phalanx, but beauty shall enslave him single- 
 handed ; 
 
 Pericles ruled Athens, yet is he the servant of Aspasia : 
 
 Light were the labour, and oftentold the tale, to count the vic- 
 tories of beauty, — 
 
 Helen, and Judith, and Omphale, and Thais, many a trophied 
 name. 
 
 At a glance the misanthrope was softened, and repented of his 
 vows, 
 
 When beauty asked, he gave, and banned her — with a blessing ; 
 
 The cold ascetic loved the smile that lit his dismal cell, 
 
 And kindly stayed her step, and wept when she departed : 
 
 The bigot abbess felt her heart gush with a mother's feeling, 
 
 When looking on some lovely face beneatli the cloister's shade ; 
 
 Usury freed her v/ithout ransom ; the buccaneer was gentle in her 
 presence ; 
 
 Madness kissed her on the cheek, and Idiotcy brightened at Iicr 
 coming : 
 
 Yea, the very cattle in the field, and hungry prov lers of the forest 
 
 With fawning homage greeted her, as beauty glided by. 
 
 A welcome guest unbidden, slie is dear to every heartli ; 
 
 A glad spontaneous growth of friends is springing round her rest : 
 
 Learning sitteth at her feet, and Idleness laboureth to please her ; 
 
 Folly hath flung aside his bells, and leaden Dullness gloweth ; 
 
 Prudence is rash in her defence ; Frugality fiUeth her with riches ; 
 
 Despair came to her for counsel ; and Bereavement was glad when 
 she consoled ;
 
 OF BEAUTY. 173 
 
 Justice puttetli up his sword at the tear of supplicating 1 )eauty, 
 And Mercy, with indulijent liaste, hath pardoned beauty's s'in. 
 
 For beauty is the substitute for all things, satisfying every absence, 
 
 The rich delirious cup to make all else forgotten : 
 
 She also is the zest unto all things, enhancing every presence, 
 
 The rare and precious ambergris, to quicken each perfume. 
 
 O beauty, thou art eloquent ; yea, though slow of tongue, 
 
 Thy breast, fair Phryne, pleaded well before the dazzled judge : 
 
 O beauty, thou art wise ; yea, though teaching falsely, 
 
 Sages listen, sweet Corinna, to commend thy lips ; 
 
 O beauty, thou art ruler ; yea, though lowly as a slave, 
 
 Myrrha, that imperial brow is monarch of thy lord ; 
 
 O beauty, thou art winner ; yea, though halting in the race, 
 
 Hippodame, Camilla, Atalanta, — in gracefulness ye fascinate your 
 
 umpires ; 
 O beauty, thou art rich ; yea, though clad in russet. 
 Attains cannot boast his gold against the wealth of beauty ; 
 O beauty, thou art noble ; yea, though Esther be an exile. 
 Set her up on high, ye kings, and bow belbre the majesty of 
 
 beauty ! 
 
 Friend and scholar, who; in charity, hast walked with me thus 
 
 far, 
 We have wandered in a wilderness of sweets, tracking beauty's 
 
 footsteps . 
 And ever as we rambled on among the tangled thicket, 
 Many a startled thought hath tempted further roaming : 
 Passion, sympathetic influence, might of imaginary haloes, — 
 Many the like would lure aside, to hunt their w^ayward themes. 
 And, look you, — from his ferny bed in yonder hazel coppice, 
 A dappled hart hath flung aside the boughs and broke away ; 
 He is fleet and capricious as the zephyr, and with exulting bounds 
 Hieth down a turfy lane between the sounding woods ; 
 His neck is garlanded with flowers, his antlers hung with cliaplets. 
 And rainbow-coloured ribbons stream adown his mottled flanks : 
 Should M'e follow ? — foolish hunters, thus to chase afoot, — 
 Who can track the airy speed and doubling wiles of Taste ? 
 
 For the estimates of human beauty, dependent upon time and 
 clime,
 
 ^ 
 
 174 OF BEAUTY. 
 
 Manifold and changeable, are multiplied the more by strange gre- 
 garious fashion : 
 
 And notable ensamples in the great turn to epidemics in the lower. 
 
 So that a nation's taste shall vary with its rulers. 
 
 Stern Egypt, humbled to the Greek, fancied softer idols, 
 
 Greece, the Roman province, nigh forgat her classic sculpture, 
 
 Rome, crushed beneath the Goth, loved his barbarian habits, 
 
 And Alaric, w^ith his ruffian horde, is tamed by silken Rome. 
 
 Columbia's flattened head, and China's crumpled feet, — 
 
 The civilized tapering waist, — and the pendulous ears of the 
 savage, — 
 
 The swollen throat among the mountains, and an ebon skin 
 beneath the tropics, — 
 
 These shall all be reckoned beauty : and for weighty cause. 
 
 First, for the latter: Providence in mercy tempereth taste by cir- 
 cumstance, 
 
 So that Nature's must shall hit her creature's liking ; 
 
 Second, for the middle : though the foolishness of vanity seek to 
 mar proportion, 
 
 Still, defects in those we love shall soon be counted praise ; 
 
 Third, for the first ; a chief, and a princess, maimed or distorted 
 from the cradle. 
 
 Shall coax the flattery of slaves to imitatfe the great in their defor- 
 mity : 
 
 Hence groweth habit : and habits make a taste, 
 
 And so shall servile zeal deface the types of beauty. 
 
 Whiles Alexander conquered, crookedness was comely : 
 
 And followers learn to praise the scars upon their leader's brow. 
 
 Youth hath sought to flatter age by mimicking grey hairs ; 
 
 Age plastereth her wrinkles, and is painted in the ruddiness of 
 Youth. 
 
 Fashion, the parasite of Rank, apeth faults and failings. 
 
 Until the general Taste depraved hath warped its sense of beauty. 
 
 Each man hath a measure for himself, yet all shall coincide in 
 
 much ; 
 A perfect form of human grace would captivate the world : 
 Be it manhood's lustre, or the loveliness of woman, all would own 
 
 its beauty. 
 The Caffre and Circassian, Russians and Hindoos, the Briton, tlie 
 
 Turk, and Japanese.
 
 OF BEAUTY. Ml 
 
 Not all alike, nor all at once, but each in proportion to intelligence, 
 His purer state in morals, and a lesser grade in guilt : 
 For the high standard of the beautiful is fixed in Reason's forum. 
 And sins, and customs, and caprice, have failed to break it down : 
 And reason's standard for the creature pointelh three perfections, 
 Frame, knowledge, and the feeling heart, well and kindly 
 
 mingled : 
 A fair dwelling, furnished wisely, with a gentle tenant in it, 
 This is the glory of humanity : thou hast seen it seldom. 
 
 There is a beauty for the body ; the superficial polish of a statue. 
 The symmetry of form and feature delicately carved and painted. 
 How bright in early bloom the Georgian sitteth at her lattice, 
 How softened off in graceful curves her young and gentle shape : 
 Those dark eyes, lit by curiosity, flash beneath the lashes, 
 And still her velvet cheek is dimpled with a smile. 
 Dost thou count her beautiful ? — even as a mere fair figure, 
 A plastic image, little more, — the outer garb of woman : 
 Yea,— and thus far it is well ; but Reason's hopes are higher, — 
 Can he sate his soul on a scantling third of beauty ? 
 
 Yet is this the pleasing trickery, that cheateth half the world, 
 Nature's wise deceit to make up waste in life ; 
 And few be they that rest uncaught, for many a twig is limed ; 
 Where is the wise among a million, that took not form for beauty? 
 But watch it well : for vanity and sin, malice, hate, suspicion. 
 Louring as clouds upon the countenance, will disenchant its 
 
 charms. 
 The needful complexity of beauty claimeth mind and soul, 
 Though many coins of foul alloy pass current for the true : 
 And albeit fairness in the creature shall often co-exist with excel- 
 lence. 
 Yet hath many an angel shape been tenanted by fiends. 
 A man, spiritually keen, shall detect in surface beauty 
 Those marring specks of evil which the sensual cannot see ; 
 Therefore is he proof against a face, unlovely to his likings, 
 And common minds shall scorn the taste, that shrunk from sin's 
 
 distortion. 
 There is a beauty of the reason ; grandly independent of externals, 
 It looketh from the M'indows of the house, shining in the man 
 t*iumpiiant. 
 
 ^ 
 
 4-
 
 'H 
 
 76 
 
 OF BEAUTY. 
 
 I have seen the broad blank face of some misshapen dwarf 
 
 Lit on a sudden as with glory, the brilliant light of mind : 
 
 Who then imagined him deformed ? intelligence is blazing on his 
 forehead, 
 
 There is empire in his eye, and sweetness on his lip, and his browii 
 cheek glittereth with beauty : 
 
 And I have known some Nireus of the camp, a varnished paragon 
 of chamberers, 
 
 Fine, elegant, and shapely, moulded as the master-piece of Phi- 
 dias, — 
 
 Such an one, with intellects abased, have I noted crouching to the 
 dwarf. 
 
 Whilst his lovers scorn the fool, whose beauty hath departed ! 
 
 And there is a beauty of the spirit ; mind in its perfect flowering, 
 Fragrant, expanded into soul, full of love and blessed. 
 I Go to some squalid couch, some famishing death-bed of the poor ; 
 He is shrunken, cadaverous, diseased ; — there is here no beauty of 
 
 the body : 
 Never hath he fed on knowledge, nor drank at the streams of 
 
 science, 
 He is of the common herd, illiterate ; — There is here no beauty of 
 
 the reason : 
 But lo ! his filming eye is bright with love from heaven, 
 In every look it beameth praise, as worshipping wiih seraphs ; 
 What honeycomb is hived upon his lips, eloquent of gratitude and 
 
 prayer, — 
 What triumph shrined serene upon that clammy brow. 
 What glory flickering transparent under those thin cheeks, — 
 What beauty in his face ! — Is it not the face of an angel ? 
 
 Now, of these three, infinitely mingled and combined, 
 
 Consisteth human beauty, in all the marvels of its mightiness : 
 
 And forth from human beauty springeth the intensity of Love ; 
 
 Feeling, thought, desire, the three deep fountains of affection. 
 
 Son of Adam, or daughter of Eve, art thou trapped by nature, 
 
 And is thy young eye dazzled with the pleasant form of beauty ? 
 
 This is but a lower love ; still it hath its honour ; 
 
 What God hath made and meant to charm, let not man despise. 
 
 Nevertheless, as reason's child, look thou wisely farther, 
 
 For age, disease, and care, and sin, shall tarnish all the surface :
 
 OF BEAUTY. 177 
 
 Reach a loftier love : be lured by the comeliness of mind, — 
 Gentle, kind, and calm, or lustrous in the livery of knowledge : 
 And more, there is a higher grade ; force the mind to its perfec- 
 tion, — 
 Win those golden trophies of consummate love : 
 Add unto riches of the reason, and a beauty moulded to thy liking, 
 The precious things of nobler grace that well adorn a soul ; 
 Thus, be thou owner of a treasure, great in earth and heaven, 
 Beauty, wisdom, goodness, in a creature like its God. 
 
 So then, draw we to an end ; with feeble step and faltering, 
 I follow Beauty through the universe, and find her home Ubiquity: 
 In all that God hath made, in all that man hath marred, 
 Lingereth beauty, or its wreck, a broken mould and castings. 
 And now, having wandered long time, freely and with desultory 
 
 feet, 
 To gather in the garden of the world a few fair sample flowers, 
 With patient scrutinizing care let us cull the conclusion of their 
 
 essence, 
 And answer to the riddle of Zorob.ihel, Whence the might of 
 
 beauty ? 
 
 Ugliness is native unto nothing, but an attribute of concrete evil ; 
 
 In everything created, at its worst, lurk the dregs of loveliness ; 
 
 We be fallen into utter depths, yet once we stood sublime, 
 
 For man was made in perfect praise, his Maker's comely image : 
 
 And so his new-born ill is spiced with older good. 
 
 He carrieth with him, yea to crime, the withered limbs of beauty. 
 
 Passions may be crooked generosities ; the robber stealeth for his 
 
 children ; 
 Murder was avenger of the innocent, or wiped out shame with 
 
 blood. 
 Many virtues, weighted by excess, sink among the vices ; 
 Many vices, amicably buoyed, float among the virtues. 
 For, albeit sin is hate, a foul and bitter turpitude. 
 As hurling back against the Giver all his gifts with insult, 
 Still when concrete in the sinner, it will seem to partake of his 
 
 attractions, 
 And in seductive masquerade shall cloak its leprous skin ; 
 His broken lights of beauty shall illumine its utter black, 
 And those refracted rays glitter on the hunch of its deformity.
 
 178 OF BEAUTY. 
 
 Verily the fancy may be false, yet hath it met me in my musings, 
 (As expounding the pleasantness of pleasure, but no ways extenu- 
 ating licence,) 
 That even those yearnings after beauty, in wayward wanton youth, 
 When, guileless of ulterior end, it craveth but to look upon the 
 
 lovely, 
 Seem like struggles of the soul, dimly remembering pre-existence, 
 And feeling in its blindness for a long-lost god, to satisfy its 
 
 longing ; 
 As if the sucking babe, tenderly mindful of his mother. 
 Should pull a dragon's dugs, and drain the teats of poison. 
 Our primal source was beauty, and we pant for it ever and again ; 
 But sin hath stopped the way with thorns ; we turn aside, wander, 
 and are lost. 
 
 God, the undiluted good, is root and stock of beauty. 
 And every child of reason drew his essence from that stem. 
 Therefore, it is of intuition, an innate hankering for home, 
 A sweet returning to the well, from which our spirit flowed, 
 That we, unconscious of a cause, should bask these darkened souls 
 In some poor relics of the light that blazed in primal beauty ; 
 And, even like as exiles of idolatry, should quaff from the cisterns 
 
 of creation 
 Stagnant draughts, for those fresh springs tliat rise in the Creator. 
 
 Only, being burdened with the body, spiritual appetite is warped. 
 And sensual man, with taste corrupted, drinketh of pollutions : 
 Impulse is left, but indiscriminate ; his hunger feasteth upon carrion ; 
 His natural love of beauty doateth over beauty in decay : 
 He still thirsteth for the beautiful ; but his delicate ideal hath 
 
 grown gross. 
 And the very sense of thirst hath been fevered from affection into 
 
 passion. 
 He remembereth the blessedness of light, but it is with an old 
 
 man's memory, 
 A blind old man from infancy, that once hath seen the sun, 
 Whom long experience of night hath darkened in his cradle recol- 
 lections. 
 Until his brightest thought of noon is but a shade of black. 
 
 This then is thy charm, O beauty all pervading ; 
 
 -A
 
 OF FAI\rE. 179 
 
 And this thy wondrous strength, O beauty, conqueror of all : 
 The outline of our shadowy best, tlie pure and comely creature, 
 That winneth on the conscience with a saddening admiration : 
 And some untutored thirst for God, the root of every pleasure. 
 Native to creatures, yea in ruin, and dating from the birthday of 
 
 the soul. 
 For God sealeth up the sum, confirmed exemplar of proportions, 
 Rich in love, full of wisdom, and perfect in the plenitude of 
 
 Beautv. 
 
 OF FAME. 
 
 Elow the trumpet, spread the wing, fling thy scroll upon the sky. 
 Rouse the slumbering world, O Fame, and fill the sphere wilh 
 
 echo ! 
 — Beneath thy blast they wake, and murmurs come hoarsely on 
 
 the wind, 
 And flashing eyes and bristling hands proclaim they hear thy 
 
 message : 
 Rolling and surging as a sea, that upturned flood of faces 
 Ilasteneth with its million tongues to spread the wondrous tale ; 
 The hum of added voices groweth to the roaring of a cataract, 
 And rapidly from wave to wave is tossed that exaggerated story, 
 Until those stunning clamours, gradually diluted in the distance, 
 Sink ashamed, and shrink afraid of noise, and die away. 
 Then brooding Silence, forth from his hollow caverns. 
 Cloaked and cowled, and gliding along, a cold and stealthy 
 
 sliadow. 
 Once more is mingled with the multitude, whispering as he 
 
 walketh. 
 And hushing all their eager ears, to hear some newer Fame. 
 
 So all is still again ; but nothing of the past hath been forgotten ; 
 A stirring recollection of the trumpet ringeth in the hearts of men : 
 And each one, either envious or admiring, hath wished the chance 
 
 were his 
 To fill as thus the startled world with fame, or fear, or wonder. 
 This lit thy torch of sacrilege, Ephesian Eratostratus, 
 This dug thy living grave, Pythagoras, the traveller from Hades ; 
 For this, dived Empedocles into Etna's fiery wliirlpool ; 
 
 +
 
 ■*- 
 
 ^ 
 
 1 80 OF FAME. 
 
 For this conquerors, regicides, and rebels, have dared their perilous 
 crimes. 
 
 In all men, from the monarch to the menial, lurketh lust of fame ; 
 
 The savage and the sage alike regard their labours proudly : 
 
 Yea, in death, the glazing eye is illumined by the hope of reputa- 
 tion. 
 
 And the stricken warrior is glad, that his wounds are salved with 
 glory. 
 
 For fame is a sweet self-homage, an offering grateful to the idol, 
 A spiritual nectar for the spiritual thirst, a mental food for mind, 
 A pregnant evidence to all of an after immaterial existence, 
 A proof that soul is scatheless, when its dwelling is dissolved. 
 And the manifold pleasures of fame are sought by the guilty and 
 
 the good : 
 Pleasures, various in kind, and spiced to every palate : 
 The thoughtful loveth fame as an earnest of better immortality. 
 The industrious and deserving, as a symbol of just appreciation. 
 The selfish, as a promise of advancement, at least to a man's own 
 
 kin. 
 And common minds, as a flattering fact that men have been told of 
 
 their existence. 
 
 There is a blameless love of fame, springing from desire of justice. 
 When a man hath featly won and fairly claimed his honours : 
 And then fame cometh as encouragement to the inward conscious- 
 ness of merit, 
 Gladdening by the kindliness and thanks, wherewithal his labours 
 
 are rewarded : 
 But there is a sordid imitation, a feverish thirst for notoriety, 
 Waiting upon vanity and sloth, and utterly regardless of deserving: 
 And then fame cometh as a curse ; the fire-damp is gathered in the 
 
 mine : 
 The soul is swelled with poisonous air, and a spark of temptation 
 shall explode it. 
 
 Idle causes, noised awhile, shall yield most active consequents. 
 And therefore it were ill upon occasion to scorn the voice of 
 
 rumour. 
 Ye have seen the chemist in his art mingle invisible gases ; 
 And lo, the product is a substance, a heavy dark precipitate :
 
 OF FAME. i8l 
 
 Even so fame, hurtling on tlic quiet with many meeting tongues, 
 Can out of nothing bring forth fruits, and blossom on a nourish- 
 ment of air : 
 For many have earned honour, and thereby rank and riches, 
 From false and fleeting tales, some casual mere mistake ; 
 And many have been wrecked upon disgrace, and have struggled 
 
 with poverty and scorn, 
 From envious hints and ill reports, the slanders cast on innocence. 
 Whom may not scandal hit ? those shafts are shot at a venture : 
 Who standeth not in danger of suspicion ? that net hath caught the 
 
 noblest. 
 Caesar's wife was spotless, but a martyr to false fame ; 
 And Rumour, in temporary things, is gigantic as a ruin or a 
 
 remedy : 
 Many poor and many rich have testified its popular omnipotence, 
 And many a panic-stricken army hath perished with the host of 
 the Assyrians. 
 
 Nevertheless, if opportunity be nought, let a man bide his time ; 
 
 So the matter be not merchandize nor conquest, fear thou less for 
 character. 
 
 If a liar accuseth thee of evil, be not swift to answer : 
 
 Yea, rather give him licence for awhile ; it shall help thine honour 
 afterward : 
 
 Never yet was calumny engendered, but good men speedily dis- 
 cerned it. 
 
 And innocence hath burst from its injustice, as the green world 
 rolling out of Chaos. 
 
 What, though still the wicked scoff, — this also turneth to his 
 praise ; 
 
 Did ye never hear that censure of the bad is buttress to a good 
 man's glory? 
 
 What, if the ignorant still hold out, obstinate in unkind judg- 
 ment, — 
 
 Ignorance and calumny are paired ; we affirm by two negations : 
 
 Let them stand round about, pushing at the column in a circle. 
 
 For all their toil and wasted strength, the foolish do but prop it. 
 
 And note thou this ; in the secret of their hearts, they feel the 
 taunt is false. 
 
 And cannot help but reverence the courage, that walketh amid 
 calumnies unanswering : 
 
 -^ 
 
 ■^
 
 ^ 
 
 1 5^2 OF FAME. 
 
 lie standeth as a gallant chief, unheeding shot or shell ; 
 He trusted in God liis Judge : neither arrows nor the pestilence 
 shall harm him. 
 
 A high heart is a sacrifice to heaven ; should it stoop among the 
 
 creepers in the dust, 
 To tell them that what God approved, is worthy of their praise? 
 Never shall it heed the thought ; but flaming on in triumph to the 
 
 skies, 
 And quite forgetting fame, shall find it added as a trophy. 
 A great mind is an altar on a hill : should the priest descend from 
 
 his altitude, 
 To canvass offerings and worship from dwellers on the plain ? 
 Rather, with majestic perseverance will he minister in solitary 
 
 grandeur. 
 Confident the time will come, when pilgrims shall be flocking to 
 
 the shrine. 
 For fame is the birthright of genius ; and he recketh not how long 
 
 it be delayed ; 
 The heir need not hasten to his heritage, when he knoweth that his 
 
 tenure is eternal. 
 The careless poet of Avon, was he troubled for his fame, 
 Or the deep-mouthed chronicler of Paradise, heeded he the suffrage 
 
 of his equals? 
 Mffionides took no thought, committing all his honours to the 
 
 future, 
 And Flaccus, standing on his watch-tower, spied the praise of ages. 
 
 Smoking fla.x will breed a flame, and tlie flame may illuminate a 
 world ; 
 
 Where is he who scorned that smoke as foul and murky vapour ? 
 
 The village stream swelled to a river, and the river was a king- 
 dom's wealth, 
 
 Where is he who boasted he could step across that stream ? 
 
 Such are the beginnings of the famous : little in the judgment of 
 their peers, 
 
 The juster verdict of posterity shall fix them in the orbits of the 
 Great. 
 
 Therefore dull Zoilus, clamouring ascendant of the hour, 
 
 Will soon be fain to hide his hate, and bury up his bitterness for 
 shame :
 
 ^ ..^ .. __ 
 
 ^ OF FAJME. 183 
 
 Therefore mocking Momus, offended at the steps of Beauty, 
 Shall win the prize of his presumption, and be hooted from his 
 
 throne among the stars. 
 For, as the shadow of a mountain lengtheneth before the setting 
 
 sun, 
 Until that screening Alp have darkened all the canton, — 
 So, Fame groweth to its great ones ; their images loom larger in 
 
 departing ; 
 But the shadow of mind is light, and earth is filled with its glory. 
 
 And thou, student of the truth, commended to the praise of God, 
 Wouldst thou find applause with men ? — seek it not, nor shun it. 
 Ancient fame is roofed in cedar, and her walls arc marble ; 
 Modern fame lodgeth in a hut, a slight and temporary dwelling : 
 Lay not up the treasures of thy soul within so damp a chamber, 
 For the moth of detraction shall fret thy robe, and drop its eggs 
 
 upon thy motive : 
 Or the rust of disheartening reserve shall spoil the lustre of thy 
 
 gold. 
 Until its burnished beauty shall be dim as tarnished brass ; 
 Or thieves, breaking through to steal, shall claim thy jewelled 
 
 thoughts, 
 And turn to charge the theft on thee, a pilferer from them ! 
 
 There is a magnanimity in recklessness of fame, so fame be well 
 
 deserving. 
 That rusheth on in fearless might, the conscious sense of merit : 
 And there is a littleness in jealousy of fame, looking as aAvare of 
 
 weakness, 
 That creepeth cautiously along, afraid that its title will be 
 
 challenged. 
 The wild boar, full of beechmast, flingeth him down among the 
 
 brambles : | 
 
 Secure in bristly strength, without a watch, he sleepeth : 5 
 
 But the hare, afraid to feed, croucheth in his own soft form ; \ 
 
 Wakefully with timid eyes, and quivering ears, he listeneth. | 
 
 Even so, a giant's might is bound up in the soul of Genius, ;! 
 
 His neck is strong with confidence, and he goeth tusked with 
 
 power : 
 Sturdily he roameth in the forest, or sunneth him in feu and field. 
 And scaretli from his marshy lair a host of fearful foes.
 
 4*- 
 
 4- 
 
 l84 OJ^ FAME. 
 
 But there is a mimic Talent, whose safety lieth in its quickness, 
 A timorous thing of doubling guile, that scarce can face a friend : 
 This one is captious of reproof, provident to snatch occasion, 
 Greedy of applause, and vexed to lose one tittle of the glory, 
 lie is a poor warder of his fame, who is ever on the watch to keep 
 
 it spotless ; 
 Such care argueth debility, a garrison relying on its sentinel 
 Passive strength shall scorn excuses, patiently waiting a reaction, 
 lie wotteth well that truth is great, and must prevail at last : 
 But fretful weakness hasteth to explain, anxiously dreading preju- 
 dice. 
 And ignorant that perishable falsehood dieth as a branch cut off. 
 
 Purity of motive and nobility of mind shall rarely condescend 
 To prove its rights, and prate of wrongs, or evidence its wortli to 
 
 others ; 
 And it shall be small care to the high and happy conscience 
 What jealous friends, or envious foes, or common fools may judge. 
 Should the lion turn and rend every snarling jackal, 
 Or an eagle be stopt in his career to punish the petulance of spar- 
 rows ? 
 Should the palm tree bend his crown to chide the briar at his feet. 
 Nor kindly help its climbing, if it hope, and be ambitious ? 
 Should the nightingale account it worth her pains to vindicate her 
 
 music, 
 Before some sorry finches, that affect to judge of song? 
 No : many an injustice, many a sneer, and slur, 
 Is passed aside witli noble scorn by lovers of true fame : 
 For well they wot that glory shall be tinctured good or evil, 
 By the character of those who give it, as wine is flavoured by the 
 
 wine-skin : 
 So that worthy fame floweth only from a worthy fountain, 
 But from an ill-conditioned troop the best report is worthless. 
 And if the sensibility of genius count his injuries in secret, 
 Wisely will he hide the pains a hardened herd would mock : 
 For the great mind well may be sad to note such littleness in 
 
 brethren, 
 The while he is comforted and happy in the firmest assurance of 
 desert. 
 
 Cease awhile, gentle scholar ;— seek other thoughts and themes ;
 
 OF FAME. 185 
 
 Or dazzling Fame with wildfire light will lure us on for ever. 
 For look, all subjects of the mind may range beneath his banner, 
 And time would fail and patience droop, to count that numerous 
 
 host. 
 The mine is deep, and branching wide,— and who can work it 
 
 out? 
 Years of thought would leave untold the boundless topic, Fame. 
 Every matter in the universe is linked in suchwise unto others. 
 That a deep full treatise upon one thing might reach to the history 
 
 of all things : 
 And before some single thesis had been followed out in all its 
 
 branches. 
 The wandei-ing thinker would be lost in the pathless forest of 
 
 existence. 
 What were the matter or the spirit, that hath no part in Fame ? 
 Where were the fact irrelevant, or the fancy out of place? 
 For the handling of that mighty theme should stretch from past 
 
 to future, 
 Catching up the present on its way, as a traveller burdened with 
 
 time ; 
 All manner of men, their deeds, hopes, fortunes, and ambitions, 
 All manner of events and things, climate, circumstance, and 
 
 custom. 
 Wealth and war, fear and hope, contentment, jealousy, devotion, 
 Skill and learning, truth, falsehood, knowledge of things gone and 
 
 things to come, 
 Pride and praise, honour and dishonour, warnings, ensamples, 
 
 emulations. 
 The excellent in virtues, and the reprobate in vice, with the cloud 
 
 of indifferent spectators, — 
 Wave on wave with flooding force throng the shoals of thought. 
 Filling that immeasurable theme, the height and depth of Fame. 
 With soul unsatisfied and mind dismayed, my feet have touched 
 
 the threshold. 
 Fain to pour these flowers and fruits an offering on that altar : 
 Lo, how vast the temple, — there are clouds within the dome ! 
 Yet might the huge expanse be filled, with volumes writ on Fame. 
 
 ■# 
 
 ■^
 
 iS6 OF FLATTERY. 
 
 OF FLATTERY. 
 
 4 
 
 Music is commended of the deaf : — but is that praise despised ? 
 
 I trow not : with flattered soul the musician heard him gladly. 
 
 Beauty is commended of the blind :— but is that compliment mis- 
 liking ? 
 
 I trow not : thougli false and insincere, woman listened greedily. 
 
 Vacant Folly talketh high of Learning's deepest reason : 
 
 Is she hated for her hollowness ? — learning held her wiser for the 
 nonce. 
 
 The worldly and the sensual, to gain some end, did homage to 
 religion : 
 
 And the good man gave thanks as for a convert, where others 
 saw the hypocrite. 
 
 Yet none of these were cheated at the heart, nor steadily believed 
 
 those flatteries ; 
 They feared the core was rotten, while they hoped the skin was 
 
 sound : 
 But the fruits have so sweet fragrance, and are verily so pleasant 
 
 to the eyes. 
 It were an ungracious disenchantment to fmd them apples of 
 
 Sodom. 
 So they laboured to think all honest, winking hard with both their 
 
 eyes ; 
 And hushed up every whisper that could prove that praise absurd : 
 They willingly regard not the infirmities that make such worship 
 
 vain, 
 And palliate to their own fond hearts the faults they will not see. 
 For the idol rejoiceth in his incense, and loveth not to shame his 
 
 suppliants. 
 Should he seek to find them false, his honours die with theirs : 
 An offering is welcome for its own sake, set aside the giver, 
 And praise is precious to a man, though uttered by the parrot or 
 
 the mocking-bird. 
 
 The world is full of fools ; and sycophancy livetli on the foolish : 
 So he groweth great and rich, that fawning supple parasite. 
 Sometimes he boweth like a reed, cringing to the pompousness 
 of pride,
 
 OF FLATTERY. 187 
 
 Sometimes he strutteth as a gallant, pampering the fickleness of 
 
 vanity : 
 I have known him listen with tlie humblCj enacting silent niar- 
 
 veller, 
 To hear some purse-proud dunce expound his poverty of mind ; 
 I have heard him wrangle with the obstinate, vowing that he will 
 
 not be convinced. 
 When some weak youth hath wisely feared the chance of ill 
 
 success : 
 Now, he will barely be a winner, — to magnify thy triumphs after- 
 ward ; 
 Now, he will hardly be a loser, — but cannot cease to wonder at thy 
 
 skill : 
 He laudeth his own worth, that the leader may have glory in his 
 
 follower ; 
 He meekly confesseth his umvorthiness, that the leader may have 
 
 glory in himself. 
 Many wiles hath he, and many modes of catching, 
 But every trap is selfishness, and every bait is praise. 
 
 Come, I would forewarn thee and forearm thee ; for keen are 
 
 the weapons of his warfare ; 
 And, while my soul hath scorned him, I have watched his skill 
 
 from far. 
 His thoughts are full of guile, deceitfully combining contrarieties, 
 And when he doeth battle in a man, he is leagued with traitorous 
 
 Self-love. 
 Strange things have I noted, and opposite to common fancy ; 
 We leave the open surface, and would plumb the secret depths. 
 For he will magnify a lover, even to disparaging his mistress ; 
 So much wisdom, goodness, grace, — and all to be enslaved ? 
 Till the Narcissus, self-enamoured, whelmed in floods of flattery, 
 Is cheated from the constancy and fervency of love by friendship's 
 
 subtle praise. 
 Moreover, he will glorify a parent, even to the censure of his 
 
 child, — 
 O degenerate scion, of a stock so excellent and noble ! 
 Scant will he be in well earned praise of a son before his father ; 
 And rarely commendeth to a mother her daughter's budding beauty: 
 Yet shall he extol the daughter to her father, and be warm about 
 
 the son before his mother ; 
 
 ■^ 
 
 "^
 
 #■ 
 
 -^ 
 
 1 88 OF FLATTERY. 
 
 Knowing that self-love entereth not, to resist applause with 
 
 jealousies. 
 Wisely is he sparing of hyperbole where vehemence of praise 
 
 would humble, 
 For many a father liketh ill to be counted second to his son : 
 And shrewdly the flatterer hath reckoned on a self still lurking in 
 
 the mother,   
 When his tongue was slow to speak of graces in the daughter. 
 But if he descend a generation, to the grandsire his talk is of the 
 
 grandson, 
 Because in such high praise he hideth the honours of the son ; 
 And the daughter of a daughter may well exceed, in beauty, love, 
 
 and learning. 
 For unconsciously old age perceived — she cannot be my rival. 
 These are of the deep things of flattery : and many a shallow syco- 
 phant 
 I lath marvelled ill that praise of children seldom won their 
 
 parents. 
 This therefore note, unto detection : flattery can sneer as well as 
 
 smile J 
 And a master in the craft wotteth well, that his oblique thrust is 
 
 surest. 
 
 Flattery sticketh like a burr, holding to the soil with anchors, 
 A vital, natural, subtle seed, everywhere hardy and indigenous. 
 Go to the storehouse of thy memory, and take what is readiest to 
 
 thy hand, — 
 The noble deed, the clever phrase, for which thy pride was 
 
 flattered : 
 Oh, it hath been dwelt upon in solitude, and comforted thy heart 
 
 in crowds. 
 It hath made thee walk as in a dream, and lifted up the head 
 
 above thy fellows ; 
 It hath compensated months of gloom, that minute of sweet sun- 
 shine, 
 Drying up the pools of apathy, and kindling the fire of ambition : 
 Yea, the flavour of that spice, mingled in the cup of life. 
 Shall linger even to the dregs, and still be tasted with a welcome ; 
 The dame shall tell her gi-andchild of her coy and courted youth, 
 And the greybeard prateth of a stranger, who praised his task at I 
 
 ^ ^±^ __ ^
 
 OF FLATTERY. 
 
 ib'9 
 
 Ofltimes to the sluggard and the dull, flattery hath done good 
 
 service, 
 Quickening the mind to emulation, and encouraging the heart tliat 
 
 failed. 
 Even so, a stimulating poison, wisely tendered by the leech, 
 Shall speed the pulse, and rally life, and cheat astonished death. 
 For, as a timid swimmer ventureth afloat with bladders, 
 Until self-confidence and growth of skill have made him spurn 
 
 their aid. 
 Thus commendation may be prudent where a child hath ill de- 
 served it ; 
 But praise unmerited is flattery, and the cure will bring its cares : 
 For thy son may find thee out, and thou shalt rue the remedy : 
 Yea, rather, where thou canst not praise, be honest in rebuke. 
 
 I have seen the objects of a flatterer mirrored clearly on the surface. 
 Where self-love scattereth praise, to gather praise again. 
 This is a commodity of merchandize, words put out at interest : 
 A scheme for canvassing opinions, and tinging them all with par- 
 tiality. 
 He is but a harmless fool ; humour him with pitiful good-nature : 
 If a poetaster quote thy song, be thou tender to his poem : 
 Did the painter praise thy sketch ? be kind, commend his picture ; 
 He looketh for a like return ; then thank him with thy praise. 
 In these small things with these small minds count thou the syco- 
 phant a courtier. 
 And pay back, as blindly as ye may, the too transparent honour. 
 
 Also, where the flattery is delicate, coming unobtrusive and in 
 
 season, 
 Though tliou be suspicious of its truth, be generous at least to its 
 
 gentility : 
 The skilful thief of Lacedsemon had praise before his judges, 
 And many caitiffs win applause for genius in their callings. 
 Moreover, his meaning may be kind, — and thou art a debtor to his 
 
 tongue ; 
 Hasten well to pay the debt, with charity and shrewdness. 
 He must not think thee caught, nor feel himself discovered, 
 Nor find thine answering compliment as hollow as his own. 
 Though he be a smiling enemy, let him heed thee as the fearless 
 
 and the friendly ; 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■4
 
 #- 
 
 I90 OF FLATTERY. 
 
 A searching look, a poignant word, may prove thou art aware : 
 Still, with compassion to the frail, though keen to see his soul. 
 Let him not fear for thy discretion: see thou keep his secret, and 
 thine owti. 
 
 However, where the flattery is gross, a falsehood clear and ful- 
 some, 
 Crush the venomous toad, and spare not for a jewel in his head. 
 Tell the presumptuous in flattery, that or ever he bespatter thee 
 
 with praise. 
 It might be well to stop and ask how little it were worth : 
 Thou hast not solicited his suffrage, — let him not force thee to 
 
 refuse it ; 
 Look to it, man, thy fence is foiled, — and thus we spoil the plot. 
 Self-knowledge goeth armed, girt with many weapons. 
 And carrieth whips for flattery, to lash it like a slave : 
 But the dunce in that great science goeth as a greedy tunny, 
 To gorge both bait and hook, unheeding all but appetite : 
 He smelleth praise and swalloweth, — yea, though it be palpable 
 
 and plain, 
 Say unto him, Folly, thou art Wisdom, — he will bless thee for thy 
 lie. 
 
 Flatterer, thou shalt rue thy trade, though it have many present 
 
 gains ; 
 Those varnished wares may sell apace, yet shall they spoil thy 
 
 credit. 
 Thine is the intoxicating cup, which whoso drinketh it shall 
 
 nauseate : 
 Thine is trickery and cheating ; but deception never pleased for 
 
 long. 
 And though while fresh thy fragrance seemed even as the dews of 
 
 charity, 
 Yet afterwards it fouled thy censer, as with savour of stale smoke. 
 For the great mind detected thee at once, answering thine empti- 
 ness with pity, 
 He saw thy self-interested zeal, and was not cozened by vain-glory ; 
 And the little mind is bloated with the praise, scorning him who 
 
 gave it, 
 A fool shall turn to be thy tyrant, an thou hast dubbed him great : 
 And the medium mind of common men, loving first thy music.
 
 
 OF FLATTERY. tgi 
 
 After, wlien the harmonies are done, shall feel small comfort in 
 
 their echoes : 
 For either he shall know thee false, conscious of contrary deserv- 
 
 ings, 
 And, hating thee for falsehood, soon will scorn himself for trutli 
 Or, if in aught to toilsome merit honest praise be due, 
 Though for a season, belike, his weakness hath been raptured at 
 
 thy witching, 
 Shall he not speedily perceive, to the vexing of his disappointed 
 
 spirit, 
 That thine exaggerative tongue hath robbed him of fair fame? 
 Thou hast paid in forger's coins, and he had earned true money : 
 For the substance of just praise, thou hast put him off with shadows 
 
 of the sycophant : 
 Thou art all things to all men, for ends false and selfish, 
 Therefore shalt be nothing unto any one, when those thiiie ends 
 
 are seen. 
 
 Turn aside, young scholar, turn from the song of Flattery ! 
 She hath the Siren's musical voice, to ravish and betray. 
 Her tongue droppeth honey, but it is the honey of Anticyra ; 
 Her face is a mask of fascination, but there hideth deformity 
 
 behind ; 
 Her coming is the presence of a queen, heralded by courtesy and 
 
 beauty, 
 Eut, going away, her train is held by the hideous dwarf, Disgust. 
 
 Know thyself, thine evil as thy good, and flattery shall not harm 
 
 thee : 
 Yea, her speech shall be a warning, a humbling and a guide. 
 For wherein thou lackest most, there chiefly will the sycophant 
 
 commend thee, 
 And then most warmly will congratulate, when a man hath least 
 
 deserved. 
 Behold, she is doubly a traitor ; and will underrate her victim's 
 
 best. 
 That, to the comforting of conscience, she may plead his worse for 
 
 better. 
 
 Therefore, is she dangerous, — as every lie is dangerous : 
 Believe her tales, and perish : if thou act upon such counsel. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■#■
 
 192 OF FLATTERY. 
 
 Her aims are thine not thee, thy wealth and not thy welfare, 
 Tliy suffrage not thy safety, thine aid and not thine honour. 
 IMoreover, with those aims insured, ceaseth all her glozing ; 
 She hath used thee as a handle, — but her hand was wise to turn it : 
 Thus will she glorify her skill, that it deftly caught thy kindness, 
 Thus will she scorn thy kindness, so pliable and easy to her 
 
 skill. 
 And then, the flatterer will turn to be thy foe, the bitterest and 
 
 hottest. 
 Because he oweth thee much hate to pay off many humblings. 
 Tiiinkest thou now that he is high, he loveth the remembrance of 
 
 his lowliness, 
 The servile manner, the dependent smile, the conscience self- 
 abased ? 
 No, this hour is his own, and the flatterer will be found a busy 
 
 mocker ; 
 He that hath salved thee with his tongue, shall now gnash upon 
 
 thee with his teeth : 
 Yea, he will be leader in the laugli, — silly one, to listen to thy 
 
 loss. 
 We scarce had hoped to lime and take another of the fools of 
 
 flattery. 
 
 At the last ; have charity, young scholar, — yea, to the sycophant 
 
 convicted ; 
 Be not a Brutus to thyself, nor stern in thine own cause. 
 Pardon exaggerated praise ; for there is a natural impulse. 
 Spurring on the nobler mind, to colour facts by feelings : 
 Take an indulgent view of each man's interest in self, 
 Be large and liberal in excuses ; is not that infirmity thine own ? 
 Search thy soul and be humble ,■ and mercy abideth with humility ; 
 So that, yea, the insincere may find thee pitiful, and love thee. 
 Mildly put aside, without rudeness of repulse, the pampering hand 
 
 of flattery, 
 For courtesy and kindness have gone beneath its guise, and ill 
 
 shouldst thou rebuke them. 
 
 Thou art incapable of theft : but flowers in the garden of a friend 
 Are thine to pluck with confidence, and it were unfriendliness to 
 
 liesitate : 
 Thou abhorrest flattery : but a generous excess in praise
 
 OF NEGLECT. 193 
 
 Is thine to yield with honest heart, and false were the charity to 
 
 doubt it : 
 The difference lieth in thine aim ; kindliness and good are of 
 
 charity, 
 But selfish, harmful, vile, and bad, is Flattery's evil end. 
 
 ■^ 
 
 OF NEGLECT. 
 
 Generous and righteous is thy grief, slighted child of sensibility ^ 
 For kindliness enkindleth love, but the waters of indifference 
 
 quench it ; 
 Thy soul is athirst for sympathy, and hungereth to find affection, 
 The tender scions of thy heart yearn for the sunshine of good feel- 
 ing ; 
 And it is an evil thing and bitter, when the cheerful face of 
 
 Charity, 
 Going forth gaily in the morning to woo the world with smiles, 
 Is met by those wayfaring men ^^■ith coldness, suspicion, and re- 
 pulse, 
 And turneth into hard dead stone at the Gorgon visage of Neglect. 
 
 brother, warm and young, covetous of others' favour, 
 
 1 see thee checked and chilled, sorrowing for censure or forgetful- I 
 
 ness : ; 
 
 Let coarse and common minds despise — that wounding of thy ^ 
 
 vanity, | 
 
 Alas, I note a sorer cause, the blighting of thy love ; 
 Let the callous sensual deride thee, — disappointed of thy praise, 
 Alas, thou hast a juster grief, defrauded of their kindness : 
 It is a theme for tears to feel the soft heart hardening, 
 The frozen breath of apathy sealing up the fountain of affection ; 
 It is a pang, keen only to the best, to be injured well-deserving, 
 And slumbering Neglect is injury, — Could ye not watch one hour? 
 When God himself complained, it was that none regarded, 
 And indifference bowed to the rebuke. Thou gavest Me no kiss 
 
 when I came in. 
 
 Moreover, praise is good ; honour is a treasure to be hoarded ; 
 
 A good man's praise foreshadoweth God's, and in His smile is 
 
 heaven : 
 But men walk on in hardihood, steeling their sinfulness to censure, 
 
 N
 
 ^ 
 
 4- 
 
 194 OF NEGLECT. 
 
 And when rebuke is ridiculed, the love of praise were an infirmity ; 
 The judge thou heedest not in fear, cannot have deep homage of 
 
 thy hope, 
 And who then is the wise of this world, that will own he trembleth 
 
 at his fellows ? 
 Calm, careless, and insensible, he mocketh blame or calumny. 
 Neither should his dignity be humbled to some pittance of their 
 
 praise : 
 The rather, let false pride affect to trample on the treasure 
 Which evermore in secret strength unconquered Nature prizeth ; 
 Rather, shall he stifle now the rising bliss of triumph, 
 Lest after, in the world's Neglect, he must acknowledge bitterness. 
 
 For lo, that world is wide, a huge and crowded continent, 
 
 Its brazen sun is mammon, and its iron soil is care : 
 
 A world full of men, where each man clingeth to his idol ; 
 
 A world full of men, where each man cherisheth his sorrow ; 
 
 A world fall of men, multitude shoaling upon multitude ; 
 
 A surging sea, where every wave is burdened with an argosy of 
 
 self; 
 A boundless beach, where every stone is a separate microscopic 
 
 world : 
 A forest of innumerable trees, where every root is independent. 
 
 What then is the marvel or the shame, if units be lost among the 
 
 million ? 
 Canst thou reasonably murmur, if a a leaf drop off unnoticed ? 
 Wondrous in architectui-e, intricate and beautiful, delicately tinged 
 
 and scented, 
 Exquisite of feeling and mysterious in life, none cared for its 
 
 growth, or its decay. 
 None? yea, — no one of its fellows, — nor cedar, palm, nor 
 
 bramble, — 
 None ? its twinborn brother scarcely missed it from the spray : 
 None? — if none indeed, then man's neglect were bitterness ; 
 And Life a land without a sun, a globe without a God ! 
 Yea, flowers in the desert, there be that love your beauty ; 
 Yea, jewels in the sea, there be that prize your brightness ; 
 Children of unmerited oblivion, there be that watch and woo you, 
 And many tend your sweets, with gentle ministering care : 
 Thronging spirits of the happy, and the everpresent Good One
 
 OF NEGLECT. 195 
 
 learning seek those precious things, man hath not heart to love. 
 Gems of the humblest or the highest, pure and patient in their 
 
 kind, 
 The souls unhardened by ill usage, and uncorrupt by luxury. 
 
 And ye, poor desolates unsunned, toilers in the dark damp mine, 
 
 Wearied daughters of oppression, crushed beneath the car of ava- 
 rice, 
 
 There be that count your tears, — He hath numbered the hairs of 
 thy head, — • 
 
 There be that can forgive your ill, with kind considerate pity : 
 
 Count ye this for comfort. Justice hath her balances, 
 
 And yet another world can compensate for all : 
 
 The daily martyrdom of patience shall not be wanting of reward ; 
 
 Duty is a prickly shrub, but its flower will be happiness and glory. 
 
 Ye too, the friendless, yet dependent, that find nor home nor lover, 
 Sad imprisoned hearts, captive to the net of circumstance, — 
 And ye, too harshly judged, noljle unappreciated intellects. 
 Who, capable of highest, lowlier fix your just ambition in con- 
 tent, — 
 And chiefest, ye, famished infants of the poor, toiling for your 
 
 parents' bread, 
 Tired, and sore, and uncomforted the while, for want of love and 
 
 learning, 
 Who struggle with the pitiless machine in dull continuous conflict. 
 Tasked by iron men, who care for nothing but your labour, — 
 Be ye long-suffering and courageous : abide the will of Heaven ; 
 God is on your side ; all things are tenderly remembered : 
 His servants here shall help you ; and where those fail you through 
 
 Neglect, 
 His kingdom still hath time and space for ample discriminative 
 
 Justice : 
 Yea, though utterly on this bad earth ye lose both right and 
 
 mercy. 
 The tears that we forgat to note, our God shall wipe away. 
 
 Nevertheless, kind spirit, susceptible and guileless. 
 Meek uncherished dove, in a carrion flock of fowls, 
 Sensitive mimosa, shrinking from the winds that help to root 
 the fir, 
 ^ 
 
 ■# 
 
 •4>
 
 U' 
 
 "^ 
 
 196 OF NEGLECT. 
 
 Fragile nautilus, shipwrecked in the gale whereat the conch is 
 glad, 
 
 Thy sharp peculiar grief is uncomforted by hope of compensation, 
 For it is a delicate and spiritual wound, which the probe of pity 
 
 bruiseth : 
 Yet hear how many thoughts extenuate its pain ; 
 Even while a kindred heart can sorrow for its presence. 
 For the sting of neglect is in this,— that such as we are all, 
 
 forget us. 
 That men and women, kith and kin, so lightly heed of other : 
 Sympathy is lacking from the guilty such as we, even M'here angels 
 
 minister, 
 And souls of fine accord must prize a fellow-sinner's love ; 
 For the worst love those who love them, and the best claim heart 
 
 for heart, 
 And it is a holy thirst to long for love's requital : 
 Hard it will be, hard and sad, to love and be unloved ; 
 And many a thorn is thrust into the side of him that is forgotten. 
 The oppressive silence of reserve, the frost of failing friendship, 
 Affection blighted hy repulse, or chilled by shallow courtesy, 
 The unaided struggle, the unconsidered grief, the unesteemed self- 
 sacrifice, 
 The gift, dear evidence of kindness, long due, but never offered, 
 The glance estranged, the letter flung aside, the greeting ill re- 
 ceived, 
 The services of unobtrusive care unthanked, perchance unheeded. 
 These things, which hard men mock at, rend the feelings of the 
 tender. 
 
 For the delicate tissue of a spiritual mind is torn by those sharp 
 
 barbs ; 
 The coldness of a trusted friend, a plenitude ending in vacuity. 
 Is as if the stable worid had burst a hollow bubble 
 
 But consider, child of sensibility ; the lot of men is labour, 
 Labour for the mouth, or labour in the spirit, labour stern and 
 
 individual. 
 Woridly cares and woridly hopes exact the thoughts of all. 
 And there is a necessary selfishness, rooted in each mortal breast. 
 The plans of prudence, or the whisperings of pride, or all-absorb- 
 ing reveries of love. 
 Ambition, grief, or fear, or joy, set each man for himself;
 
 OF NEGLECT. 197 
 
 Therefore, the centre of a circle, whereunto all the universe con- 
 
 vergeth, 
 Is seen in fallen solitude, the naked selfish heart : 
 Stripped of conventional deceptions, untrammelled from the 
 
 harness of society, 
 We all may read one little word engraved on all we do ; 
 Other men, what are they unto us? the age, the mass, the mil- 
 lion, — 
 We segregate, distinct from generalities, that isolated particle, a 
 
 self: 
 It is the very law of our life, a law for soul and body, 
 An earthly law for earthly men, toiling in responsible probation. 
 For each is the all unto himself, disguise it as we may, 
 Each infinite, each most precious ; yet even as a nothing to his 
 
 neighbour. 
 O consider, we be crowding up an avenue, trapped in the decoy uf 
 
 time. 
 Behind us the irrevocable past, before us the illimitable future : 
 What wonder is there, if the traveller, wayworn, hopeful, fearful. 
 Burdened himself, so lightly heed the burden of his brother ? 
 How shouldst thou marvel and be sad, that the pilgrims trouble 
 
 not to learn thee, 
 When each hath to master for himself the lessons of life and 
 
 immortality ? 
 
 Moreover, what art thou, — so vainly impatient of Neglect, 
 Where then is thy worthiness, that so thou claimest honour ? 
 Let the true judgment of humility reckon up thine ill deserts. 
 How little is there to be loved, how much to stir up scorn ! 
 The double heart, the bitter tongue, the rash and erring spirit. 
 Be these, ye purest among men, your passports unto favour? 
 It is mercy in the Merciful, and justice in the Just, to be jealous of 
 
 his creature's love, 
 But how should evil or dupljcity arrogate affection to itself? 
 Where love is happiness and duty, to be jealous of that love is 
 
 godlike, 
 But who can reverence the guilty ? who findeth pleasure in the mean? 
 Check the presumption of thy hopes : thankfully take refuge in 
 
 obscurity 
 Or, if thou claimest merit, thy :in shall be proclaimed upon the 
 
 housetops. 
 
 ■^
 
 ^ 
 
 198 OF NEGLECT. 
 
 Yet again : consider them of old, the good, the great, the learned, 
 
 Who have blessed the world by wisdom, and glorified their God 
 by purity. 
 
 Did those speed in favour ? were they the loved and the admired ? 
 
 Was every prophet had in honour? and every deserving one 
 remembered to his praise ? 
 
 What shall I say of yonder band, a glorious cloud of witnesses. 
 
 The scorned, defamed, insulted, — but the excellent of earth? 
 
 It were weariness to count up noble names, neglected in their lives, 
 
 Whom none esteemed, nor cared to love, till death had sealed 
 them his. 
 
 For good men are the health of the world, valued only when it 
 perisheth, 
 
 Like water, light, and air, all precious in their absence. 
 
 Who hath considered the blessing of his breath, till the poison of 
 an asthma struck him ? 
 
 Who hath regarded the just pulses of his heart, till spasm or par- 
 alysis have stopped them ? 
 
 Even thus, an unobserved routine of daily grace and wisdom, 
 
 When no more here, had worship of a world, whose penitence 
 atoned for its neglect : 
 
 And living genius is seen among infirmities, wherefrom the com- 
 moner are free ; 
 
 And other rival men of mind crowd this arena of contention ; 
 
 And there be many cares ; and a man knoweth little of his brother ; 
 
 Feebly we appreciate a motive, and slowly keep pace with a 
 feeling : 
 
 And social difference is much ; and experience teacheth sadly, 
 
 How great the treachery of friends, how dangerous the courtesy of 
 enemies. 
 
 So, the sum of all these things operateth largely upon all men. 
 
 Hedging us about with thorns, to cramp our yearrimg sympathies. 
 
 And we grow materialized in mind, forgetting what we see not. 
 
 But, immersed in perceptions of the present, keep things absent 
 out of thought : 
 
 Thus, where ingratitude, and guilt, and labour, and selfishness 
 would harden, 
 
 Humbly will the good man bow. unmurmuring, to Neglect. 
 
 Yet once more, griever at Neglect, hear me to thy comfort, or 
 
 rebuke :
 
 OF NEGLECT. 
 
 I9y 
 
 For, after all thy just complaint, the world is full of love. 
 O heart of childhood, tender, trusting, and affectionate, 
 O youth, warm youth, full of generous attentions, 
 O woman, self-forgetting M'oman, poetry of human life, 
 And not less thou, O man, so often the disinterested brother. 
 Many a smile of love, many a tear of pity. 
 Many a word of comfort, many a deed of magnanimity, 
 Many a stream of milk and honey pour ye freely on the eaith. 
 And many a rosebud of love rejoiceth in the dew of your affec- 
 tion. 
 Neglect ? O liberal world, for thine are many prizes : 
 Neglect ? O charitable world, where thousands feed on bounty ; 
 Neglect ? O just world, for thy judgments err not often ; 
 Neglect ? O libel on a world where half that world is woman ! 
 Where is the afflicted, whose voice, once heard, stirreth not a host 
 
 of comforters ? 
 Where is the sick untended, or in prison, and they visited him 
 
 not? 
 The hungry is fed, and the thirsty satisfied, till ability set limits to 
 
 the will. 
 And those who did it unto them, have done it unto God ! 
 For human benevolence is large, though many matters dwarf it. 
 Prudence, ignorance, imposture, and the straitenings of circum- 
 stance and time. 
 And if to the body, so to the mind, the most of men are generous ; 
 Their estimate, who know us best, is seldom seen to err ; 
 Be sure the fault is thine, as pride, or shallowness, or vanity. 
 If all around thee, good and bad, neglect thy seeming merit : 
 No man yet deserved, who found not some to love him ; 
 And he, that never kept a friend, need only blame himself : 
 Many for unworthiness will droop and die, but all are not un- 
 worthy ; 
 It must indeed be cold clay soil, that killeth every seed. 
 Therefore, examine thy state, O self-accounted martyr of Neglect, 
 It may be, thy merit is a cubit, and thy measure thereof a furlong ; 
 But grant it greater than thy thoughts, and grant that men thy 
 
 fellows 
 For pleasure, business, or Interest, misuse, forget, neglect thee, — 
 Still be thou conqueror in this, the consciousness of high deser^■- 
 
 ings ; 
 Let it suffice thee to be worthy ; faint not thou for praise j 
 
 !■ 
 
 -^^
 
 
 200 OF CONTENTMENT. 
 
 For that thou art, be grateful ; go humbly even in thy confidence ; 
 And set thy foot upon the neck of an enemy so harmless as 
 Neglect. 
 
 OF CONTENTMENT. 
 
 Godliness with Contentment, — these be the pillars of felicity, 
 Jachin, wherewithal it is established, and Boaz, in the which is 
 
 strength : 
 And upon their capitals is lily-work, the lotus fruit and flower, 
 Those fair and fragrant types of holiness, innocence, and beauty ; 
 Great gain pertaineth to the pillars, nets and chains of wreathen 
 
 gold, 
 And they stand up straight in the temple porch, the house where 
 
 Glory dwelleth. 
 
 The body craveth meats, and the spirit is athirst for pcacefulness, 
 He that hath these, hath enough ; for all beyond is vanity. 
 Surfeit vaulteth over pleasure, to light upon the hither side of 
 
 pain ; 
 And great store is great care, the rather if it mightily increaseth. 
 Albeit too little is a trouble, yet too much shall swell into an evil. 
 If wisdom stand not nigh to moderate the wishes : 
 For covetousness never had enough, but moaneth at its wants for 
 
 ever. 
 And rich men have commonly more need to be taught content- 
 ment than the poor. 
 That hungry chasm in their market-place gapeth still unsatisfied, 
 Yea, fling in all the wealth of Rome, — it asketh higher victims ; 
 So, when the miser's gold cannot fill the measure of his lust, 
 Curtius must leap into the pit, and avarice shall close upon his 
 life. 
 
 Behold Independence in his rags, all too easily contented. 
 Careful for nothing, thankful for much, and uncomplaining in his 
 
 poverty : 
 Such an one have I somewhiles seen earn his crust with gladness ; 
 He is a gatherer of simples, culling wild herbs upon the hills ; 
 And now, as he sitteth on the beach, with his motherless child 
 
 beside him, 
 
 -¥
 
 OF CONTENTMENT. 201 
 
 To rest them in the cheerful sun, and sort their mints and hore- 
 
 hound, — 
 Tell me, can ye find upon his forehead the cloud of covetous 
 
 anxiety, 
 Or note the dull unkindled eyes of sated sons of pleasure ? — 
 For there is more joy of life with that poor picker of the ditches, 
 Than among the multitude of wealthy who wed their gains to dis- 
 content. 
 
 I have seen many rich, burdened with the fear of poverty, 
 
 I have seen many poor, buoyed with all the carelessness of wealth : 
 
 For the rich had the spirit of a pauper, and the moneyless a liberal 
 heart ; 
 
 The first enjoyeth not for having, and the latter hath nothing but 
 enjoyment. 
 
 None is poor but the mean in mind, the timorous, the weak, and 
 unbelieving ; 
 
 None is wealthy but the affluent in soul, who is satisfied and 
 floweth over. 
 
 The poor-rich is attenuate for fears, the rich-poor is fattened upon 
 hopes ; 
 
 Cheerfulness is one man's welcome, and the other warneth from 
 him by his gloom. 
 
 Many poor have the pleasures of the rich, even in their o\\n pos- 
 sessions ; 
 
 And many rich miss the poor man's comforts, and yet feel all his 
 cares. 
 
 Liberty is affluence, and the Helots of anxiety never can be counted 
 wealthy ; 
 
 But he that is disenthralled from fear, goeth for the time a king; 
 
 He is royal, great, and opulent, living free of fortune. 
 
 And looking on the world as owner of its good, the Maker's child 
 and heir : 
 
 Whereas, the covetous is slavish, a very Midas in his avarice. 
 
 Full of dismal dreams, and starved amongst his treasures : 
 
 The ceaseless spur of discontent goaded him with instant appre- 
 hension. 
 
 And his thirst for gold could never be quenched, for he drank with 
 the throat of Crassus. 
 
 Vanity, and dreary disappointment, care, and weariness, and envy ; 
 
 ■4 

 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 4^ 
 
 202 OF CONTENTMENT. 
 
 Vanity is graven upon all things ; wisely spake the preacher. 
 
 For ambition is a burning mountain, thrown up amid the turbid 
 
 sea, 
 A Stromboli in sullen pride above the hissing waves ; 
 And the statesman climbing there, forgetful of his patriot intentions, 
 Shall hate the strife of each rough step, or ever he hath toiled 
 
 midway : 
 And every truant from his home, the happy home of duty, 
 Shall live to loathe his eminence of cares, that seething smoke and 
 
 lava. 
 Contentment is the temperate repast, flowing with milk and honey: 
 Ambition is the drunken orgy, fed by liquid flames : 
 A black and bitter frown is stamped upon the forehead of Ambi- 
 tion, 
 But fair Contentment's angel-face is rayed with winning smiles. 
 
 There was in Tyre a merchant, the favourite child of fortune, 
 An opulent man with many ships, to trade in many climes ; 
 And he rose up early to his merchandize, after feverish dreaming, 
 And lay down late to his hot unrest, overwhelmed with calculated 
 
 cares : 
 So, day by day, and month by month, and year by year, he gained ; 
 And grew grey, and waxed great ; for money brought him all things. 
 All things ? — verily, not all ; the kernel of the nut is lacking, — 
 His mind was a stranger to content, and as for Peace, he knew her not : 
 Luxuries palled upon his palate, and his eyes were satiate with 
 
 purple ; 
 He could coin much gold, but buy no happiness with it. 
 And on a day, a day of dread, in the heat of inordinate ambition, 
 When he threw with a gambler's hand, to lose or to double his 
 
 possessions, 
 The chance hit him, — he had speculated ill, — and men began to 
 
 whisper; — 
 Those he trusted, failed ; and their usuries had bribed him deeply ; 
 One ship foundered out at sea, — and another met the pirate, — 
 And so, with broken fortunes, men discreetly shunned him. 
 He was a stricken stag, and went to hide away in solitude, 
 And there in humility, he thought, — he resolved, and promptly 
 
 acted : 
 From the wreck of all his splendours, from the dregs of the goblet 
 
 of affluence.
 
 OF CONTENTMENT. 203 
 
 He saved with management a morsel and a drop, for his daily cup 
 
 and platter : 
 And lo, that little was enough, and in enough was competence ; 
 His cares were gone,- — he slept by night, and lived at peace by 
 
 day; 
 Cured of his guilty selfishness, — money's love, envy, competition, — 
 He lived to be thankful in a cottage that he had lost a palace : 
 For he found in his abasement, what he vainly had sought in high 
 
 estate, 
 Both mind and body well at ease, though robed in the russet of 
 
 the lowly. 
 
 Once more, a certain priest, happy in his high vocation. 
 
 With faith, and hope, and charity, well served his village altar ; 
 
 As men count riches, he was poor ; but great were his treasures in 
 
 heaven, 
 And great his joys on earth, for God's sake doing good : 
 He had few cares and many consolations, one of the welcome 
 
 everywhere ; 
 The labourer accounted him his friend, and magnates did him 
 
 honour at their table : 
 With a large heart and little means he still made many grateful. 
 And felt as the centre of a circle, of comfort, calmness, and 
 
 content. 
 But, on a weaker sabbath, — for he preached both well and wisely, — 
 Some casual hearer loudly praised his great neglected talents : 
 Why should he be buried in obscurity, and throw these pearls to 
 
 swine? 
 Could he not still be doing good, — the whilst he pushed his for- 
 tunes ? 
 Then came temptation, even on the spark of discontent ; 
 The neighbouring town had a pulpit to be filled ; hotly did he 
 
 canvass, and won it : 
 Now was he popular and courted, and listened to the spell of 
 
 admiration, 
 And toiled to please the taste, rather than to pierce the conscience. 
 Greedily he sought, and seeking found, the patronizing notice o\ 
 
 the great ; 
 He thirsted for emoluments and honours, and counted rich men 
 
 happy ; 
 So he flattered, so he preached ; and gold and fame flowed in ;
 
 204 OF LIFE. 
 
 They flowed in, — he was reaping his reward, and felt himself a 
 fool. 
 
 Alas, what a shadow was he following, — how precious v/as the 
 substance he had left ! 
 
 Man for God, gold for good, this was his miserable bargain. 
 
 The village church, its humble flock, and humbler parish priest, 
 
 Zeal, devotion, and approving heaven, — his books, and simple life. 
 
 His little farm and flower-beds, — his recreative rambles with a 
 friend, 
 
 And haply, at eventide, the leaping trouts, to help their humble 
 fare. 
 
 All these wretchedly exchanged for what the world called fortune, 
 
 With the harrowing conscience of a state relapsed to vain ambi- 
 tions. 
 
 Then, — for God was gracious to his soul, — his better thoughts 
 returned. 
 
 And better aims with better thoughts, his holy walk of old. 
 
 Sickened of style, and ostentation, and the dissipative fashions of 
 society, 
 
 He deserted from the ranks of Mammon, and renewed his allegiance 
 to God : 
 
 For he found that the praises of men, and all that gold can give. 
 
 Are not worthy to be named, against godliness and calm content- 
 ment. 
 
 ^ 
 
 OF LIFE. 
 
 A CHILD was playing in a garden, a merry little child, 
 Bounding with triumphant health, and full of happy fancies ; 
 His kite was floating in the sunshine, — but he tied the string to a 
 
 twig 
 And ran among the roses to catch a new-born butterfly ; 
 His horn-book lay upon a bank, but the pretty truant hid it. 
 Buried up in gathered grass, and moss, and sweet wild-thyme ; 
 He launched a paper boat upon the fountain, then wayward turned 
 
 aside, 
 To twine some fragrant jessamines about the dripping marble : 
 So, in various pastime shadowing the schemes of manhood, 
 That curly-headed boy consumed the golden hours : 
 And I blessed his glowing face, envying the merry little child,
 
 OF LIFE. 205 
 
 As he shouted with the ecstasy of being, clapping his hands for 
 
 joyfulness : 
 For I said, Surely, O Life, thy name is happiness and hope, 
 Thy days are bright, thy flowers are sweet, and pleasure the con- 
 dition of thy gift. 
 
 A youth was walking in the moonlight, walking not alone, 
 
 For a fair and gentle maid leant on his trembling arm : 
 
 Their whispering was still of beauty, and the light of love was in 
 
 their eyes. 
 Their twin young hearts had not a thought unvowed to love and 
 
 beauty : 
 The stars and the sleeping world, and the guardian eye of God, 
 The murmur of the distant waterfall, and nightingales warbling in 
 
 the thicket, 
 Sweet speech of years to come, and promises of fondest hope. 
 And more, a present gladness in each other's trust, 
 All these fed their souls with the hidden manna of affection, 
 While their faces shone beatified in the radiance of reflected Eden : 
 I gazed on that fond youth, and coveted his heart. 
 Attuned to holiest symphonies, with music in its strings : 
 For I said, Surely, O Life, thy name is love and beauty, 
 Thy joys are full, thy looks most fair, thy feelings pure and 
 
 sensitive. 
 
 A man sat beside his merchandize, a careworn altered man, 
 His waking hope, his nightly fear, were money, and its losses : 
 Rarely was the laugli upon his cheek, except in bitter scorn. 
 For his foolishness of heart, and the lie of its romance, counting 
 
 Love a treasure. 
 His talk is of stern Reality, chilling unimaginative facts, 
 The dull material accidents of this sensual body ; 
 Lucreless honour M'ere contemptible, impoverished affection but a 
 
 pauper's riches. 
 Duty, struggling unrewarded, the bargain of a cheated fool ; 
 The market value of a fancy must be measured by the gain it 
 
 bringeth. 
 No man is fed or clothed by fame, or love, or duty : — 
 So toiled he day by day, that cold and joyless man ; 
 I gazed upon his haggard face, and sorrowed for the change : 
 For I said. Surely, O Life, thy name is care and weariness, 
 
 -#■ 
 
 ^
 
 ^ 
 
 206 OF LIFE. 
 
 Thy soil is parched, thy winds are fierce, and the suns above thee 
 hardening. 
 
 A withered elder lay upon his bed, a desolate man and feeble : 
 His thoughts were of the past, the early past, the byegone days of 
 
 youth : 
 Bitterly repented he the years stolen by the god of this world, 
 Remembering the maiden of his love, and the heart-stricken wife 
 
 of his selfishness. 
 For the sunshiny morning of life came again to him a vivid truth. 
 But the years of toil as a long dim dream, a clouded blighted noon : 
 He saw the nutting schoolboy, but forgat the speculative mer- 
 chant ; 
 The callous calculating husband was shamed by the generous lover : 
 He knew that the weeds of worldliness, and the smoky breath of 
 
 Mammon 
 Had 'choked and killed those tender shoots, his yearnings after 
 
 honour and affection ; 
 So was he sick at heart, and my pity strove to cheer him. 
 But a deep and dismal gulph lay between comfort and his soul. 
 Then I said, Surely, O Life, thy name is vanity and sorrow, 
 Thy storms at noon are many, and thine eventide is clouded by 
 remorse. 
 
 Now, when I thought upon these things, my heart was grieved 
 
 within me : 
 I wept, with bitterness of speech, and these were the words of my 
 
 complaining : 
 " Wherefore then must happiness and love wither into care and 
 
 vanity, — • 
 Wherefore is the bud so beautiful, but flower and fruit so 
 
 blighted ? 
 Hard is the lot of man ; to be lured by the meteor of romance, 
 Only to be snared, and to sink, in the turbid mudpool of reality." 
 
 Suddenly, a light, — and a rushing presence, — and a consciousness 
 
 of Something near me, — 
 ] trembled, and listened, and prayed : then I knew tlie Angel of 
 
 Life: 
 Vague, and dimly visible, mine eye could not behold him, 
 As, calmly unimpassioned, he looked upon an erring creature ;
 
 OF LIFE. 207 
 
 Unseen, my spirit apprehended him ; though he spake not, yet I 
 
 heard : 
 For a sympathetic communing with Him flashed upon my mind 
 
 electric. 
 
 Pensioner of God, be grateful ; the gift of Life is good : 
 
 The life of heart, and life of soul, mingled with life for the body. 
 
 Gladness and beauty are its just inheritance, — the beauty thou hast 
 counted for romance : 
 
 And guardian spirits weep that selfishness and sorrow should de- 
 stroy it. 
 
 Thou hast seen the natural blessing marred into a curse by man ; 
 
 Come then, in favour will I show thee the proper excellence of 
 life; 
 
 Keep thou purity, and watch against suspicion, — love shall never 
 perish ; 
 
 Guard thine innocency spotless, and the buoyancy of childhood shall 
 remain. 
 
 Sweet ideals feed the soul, thoughts of loveliness delight it, 
 
 The chivalrous affection of uncalculating youth lacketh not honour- 
 able wisdom. 
 
 Charge not folly on invisibles, that render thee happier and purer. 
 
 The fair frail visions of Romance have a use beyond the maxims of 
 the Real. 
 
 Behold a patriarch of years, who leaneth on the staff of religion ; 
 His heart is fresh, quick to feel, a bursting fount of generosity : 
 He, playful in his wisdom, is gladdened in his children's gladness. 
 He, pure in his experience, loveth in his son's first love : 
 Lofty aspirations, deep affections, holy hopes are his delight ; 
 His abhorrence is to strip from Life its charitable garment of Idea. 
 The cold and callous sneerer, who heedeth of the merely practical, 
 And mocketh at good uses in imaginary things, that man is his 
 
 scorn : 
 The hard unsympathizing modern, filled with facts and figures, 
 Cautious, and coarse, and materialized in mind, that man is his 
 
 pity. 
 Passionate thirsl for gain never hath burnt within his bosom, 
 The leading chains of that dull lust have not bound him prisoner : 
 The shrewd world laughed at him for honesty, the vain world 
 
 mouthed at him for honour. 
 
 ■^ 
 
 f 
 
 •MM-
 
 4^ 
 
 2oS OF LIFE. 
 
 The false world hated him for truth, the cold world despised him 
 
 for affection : 
 Still, he kept his treasure, the warm and noble heart, 
 And in that happy wise old man survive the child and lover. 
 For human Life is as Chian wine, flavoured unto him who drinketh it, 
 Delicate fragrance comforting the soul, as needful substance for the 
 
 body : 
 Therefore, see thou art pure and guileless ; so shall thy Realities of 
 
 Life 
 Be sweetened and tempered, and gladdened by tlie wholesome 
 
 spirit of Romance. 
 
 Dost thou live, man, dost thou live, — or only breathe and labour? 
 
 Art thou free, or enslaved to a routine, the daily machinery of 
 habit ? 
 
 For one man is quickened into Life, where thousands exist as in 
 a torpor, 
 
 Feeding, toiling, sleeping, an insensate weary round : 
 
 The plough, or the ledger, or the trade, with animal cares and in- 
 dolence, 
 
 Make the mass of vital years a heavy lump unleavened. 
 
 Drowsily lie down in thy dulness, fettered with the irons of circum- 
 stance, 
 
 Thou wilt not wake to think and feel a minute in a month. 
 
 The epitome of common life is seen in the common epitaph. 
 
 Born on such a day, and dead on such another, with an interval of 
 threescore years. 
 
 For time hath been wasted on the senses, to the hourly diminishing 
 of spirit : 
 
 Lean is the soul and pineth, in the midst of abundance for the body : 
 
 He forgat the worlds to whicli he tended, and a creature's true 
 nobility. 
 
 Nor wished that hope and wholesome fear should stir him from his 
 hardened satisfaction. 
 
 And this is death in life ; to be sunk beneath the waters of the 
 Actual, 
 
 Without one feebly-struggling sense of an airier spiritual realm : 
 
 Affection, fancy, feeling — dead ; imagination, conscience, faith. 
 
 All wilfully expunged, till they leave the man mere carcase. 
 
 See thou livest, whiles thou art : for heart must live, and soul. 
 
 But care and sloth and sin and self, combine to kill that life.
 
 OF DEATH. 209 
 
 A man will grow to an automaton, an appendage to the counter or 
 
 the desk, 
 If mind and spirit be not roused, to raise the plodding groveller : 
 Then praise God for sabbaths, for books, and dreams and pains. 
 For the recreative face of nature, and the kindling charities of home ; 
 And remember, thou that labourest, — thy leisure is not loss, 
 If it help to expose and undermine that solid falsehood, the 
 
 Material. 
 
 Life is a strange avenue of various trees and flowers ; 
 
 Lightsome at commencement, but darkening to its end in a distant 
 
 massy portal. 
 It beginneth as a little path, edged with the violet and primrose, 
 A little path of lawny grass and soft to tiny feet : 
 Soon, spring thistles in the way, those early griefs of school. 
 And fruit-trees ranged on either hand show holiday delights : 
 Anon, the rose and the mimosa hint at sensitive affection. 
 And vipers hide among the grass, and briars are woven in the 
 
 hedges : 
 Shortly, staked along in order, stand the tender saplings, 
 While hollow hemlock and tall ferns fill the frequent interval : 
 So advancing, quaintly mixed, majestic line the way 
 Sturdy oaks, and vigorous elms, the beech and forest-pine : 
 And here the road is rough with rocks, wide, and scant of herbage. 
 The sun is hot in heaven, and the ground is cleft and parched : 
 And many-times a hollow trunk, decayed, or lightning-scathed. 
 Or in its deadly solitude, the melancholy upas ; 
 But soon, with closer ranks, are set the sentinel trees. 
 And darker shadows hover amongst Autumn's mellow tints ; 
 Ever and anon, a holly, — junipers, and cypresses, and yews ; 
 The soil is damp ; the air is chill ; night cometh on apace : 
 Speed to the portal, traveller, — lo, there is a moon, 
 With smiling light to guide thee safely through the dreadful shade: 
 Hark, — that hollow knock, — behold, the warder openeth. 
 The gate is gaping, and for thee ; — those are the jaws of Death ! 
 
 ^ 
 
 OF DEATH. 
 
 Keep silence, daughter of frivolity,— for Death is in that chamber , 
 
 Startle not with echoing sound the strangely solemn peace. 
 
 o
 
 ^ 
 
 2 IP OF DEATH. 
 
 Death is here in spirit, watcher of a marble corpse, — 
 
 That eye is fixed, that heart is still, — how dreadful in its stillness ! 
 
 Death, new tenant of the house, pervadeth all the fabric ; 
 
 He waiteth at the head, and he standeth at the feet, and hideth in 
 
 the caverns of the breast : 
 Death, subtle leech, hath anatomized soul from body, 
 Dissecting well in every nerve its spirit from its substance : 
 Death, rigid lord, hath claimed the heriot clay. 
 While joyously the youthful soul hath gone to take his heritage : 
 Death, cold usurer, hath seized his bonded debtor ; 
 Death, savage despot, hath caught his forfeit serf ; 
 Death, blind foe, wreaketh petty vengeance on the flesh ; 
 Death, fell cannibal, gloateth on his victim, 
 And carrieth it with him to the grave, that dismal banquet-hall, 
 Where in foul state the Royal Goul holdeth secret orgies. 
 
 liide it up, hide it up, draw the decent curtain : 
 
 Hence ! curious fool, and pry not on corruption : 
 
 For the fearful mysteries of change are being there enacted. 
 
 And many actors play their part on that small stage, the tomb. 
 
 Leave the clay, that leprous thing, touch not the fleshly garment : 
 
 Dust to dust, it mingleth well among the sacred soil : 
 
 It is scattered by the winds, it is wafted by the waves, it mixeth 
 
 with herbs and cattle. 
 But God hath watched those morsels, and hath guided them in 
 
 care ; 
 Each waiting soul must claim his own, when the archangel 
 
 soundeth. 
 And all the fields, and all the hills, shall move a mass of life ; 
 Bodies numberless crowding on the land, and covering the trampled 
 
 sea, 
 Darkening the air precipitate, and gathered scatheless from the 
 
 fire ; 
 The Himalayan peaks shall yield their charge, and the desolate 
 
 steppes of Siberia, 
 The Maelstrom disengulph its spoil, and the iceberg manumit its 
 
 captive : 
 All shall teem with life, the converging fragments of humanity 
 Till every conscious essence greet his individual frame ; 
 For in some dignified similitude, alike, yet different in glory, 
 This body shall be shaped anew, fit dwelling for the soul : 
 
 A
 
 OF DEATH. 211 
 
 The hovel hath grown to a palace, the bulb hath burst into the 
 
 flower, 
 Matter hath put on incorruption, and is at peace with spirit. 
 
 Amen, — and so it shall be : — but now, the scene is drear, — 
 Yea, though promises and hope strive to cheat its sadness ; 
 Full of grief, though faith herself is strong to speed the soul. 
 For the partner of its toil is left behind to endure an ordeal of 
 
 change, 
 Dear partner, dear and frail, my loved though humble home, — 
 Should I cast thee off without a pang, as a garment flung aside ? 
 Many years, for joy and sorrow, have I dwelt in thee. 
 How shall I be reckless of thy weal, nor hope for thy perfection ? — 
 Tliis also. He that lent thee for my uses in mortality. 
 Shall well fulfil with boundless praise on that returning day : 
 Behold, thou shalt be glorified : thou, mine abject friend, 
 And should I meanly scorn thy state, until it rise to greatness ? 
 Far be it, O my soul, from thine expectant essence. 
 To be heedless, if indignity or folly desecrate those thine ashes : 
 Keep them safe with careful love ; and let the mound be holy ; 
 And, thou that passest by, revere the waiting dead. 
 
 Naples sitteth by the sea, keystone of an arch of azure. 
 
 Crowned by consenting nations peerless queen of gaiety : 
 
 She laugheth at the wrath of Ocean, she mocketh the fury of 
 
 Vesuvius, 
 She spurneth disease and misery and famine, that crowd her sunny 
 
 streets : 
 The giddy dance, the merry song, the festal glad procession, 
 The noonday slumber and the midnight serenade, — all these make 
 
 up her Life : 
 Her Life? — and what her Death? — look we to the end of life, — 
 Solon, and Tellus the Athenian, wisely have ye pointed to the 
 
 grave. 
 For behold yon dreary precinct, — those hundreds of stone wells, 
 A pit for a day, a pit for a day, — a pit to be sealed for a year : 
 And in the gloom of night, they raise the year-closed lid, — 
 Look in, — for gnawing lime hath half consumed the carcases ; 
 Thus they hurl the daily dead into that horrible pit, 
 The dead that only died this day, — as unconsidered offal .' 
 There, a starlc white heap, unwept, unloved, uncarcd for, 
 
 
 — +
 
 
 212 OF DEATH. 
 
 Old men and maidens, young men and infants, mingle in hideous 
 
 corruption ; 
 Fling in the gnawing lime, — seal up the charnel for a year ; 
 For lo, a morrow's dawn hath tinged the mountain summit. 
 O fair false city, thou gay and gilded harlot, 
 Woe, for thy wanton heart, woe, for thy wicked hardness : 
 Woe unto thee, that the lightsomeness of Life, beneath Italian suns, 
 Should meet the solemnity of Death, in a sepulchre so foul and 
 
 fearful. 
 
 For that, even to the best, the wise and pure and pious, 
 
 Death, repulsive king, thine iron rule is terrible : 
 
 Yea, and even at the best, in company of buried kindred, 
 
 With hallowing rites, and friendly tears, and the dear old 
 
 country church. 
 Death, cold and lonely, thy frigid face is hateful, 
 The bravest look on thee with dread, the humblest curse thy 
 
 coming. 
 Still, ye unwise among mankind, your foolishness hath added fears ; 
 The crowded cemetery, the catacomb of bones, the pestilential 
 
 vault. 
 With fancy's gliding ghost at eve, her moans and flaky footfalls, 
 And the gibbering train of terror to fright your coward hearts. 
 We speak not here of sin, nor the phantoms of a bloody conscience, 
 Nor of solaces, and merciful pardon : we heed but the inevitable 
 
 grave. 
 The grave, the wage of guilt, that due return to dust, 
 The grave, the goal of earth, and starting-post for Heaven. 
 
 Plant it with laurels, sprinkle it with lilies, set it upon yonder 
 
 dewy hill, 
 Midst holy prayers, and generous grief, and consecrating blessings ; 
 Let Sophocles sleep among his ivy, green perennial garlands, 
 Let olives shade their Virgil, and roses bloom above Corinne ; 
 To his foster-mother, Ocean, entrust the mariner in hope , 
 The warrior's spirit, let it rise on high from the flaming fragrant 
 
 pyre : 
 But heap not coffins and corruption to infect the mass of living. 
 Nor steal from odious realities the charitable poetry of Death. 
 It IS wise to gild uncomeliness, it is wise to mask necessity. 
 It is wise from cheerful sights and sounds to draw their gentle uses :
 
 ^ 
 
 OF DEATH. 213 '^ 
 
 Hide the facts, the bitter facts, the foul and fearful facts, 
 
 Tend the body well in hope, ^his were praise and wisdom : 
 
 But to plunge in gloom the parting soul, that hath loved its clav 
 
 tenement so long, 
 This were vanity and folly, the counsel of moroseness and de- 
 spair. 
 Not thus, the Scythian of old time M'elcomed Death with songs ; 
 Not thus, the shrewd Egyptian decorated Death with braveries ; 
 Not thus, on his funeral tower sleepeth the sun-worshipping Parsee ; 
 Not thus, the Moslem saint lieth in his arabesque mausoleum ; 
 Not thus, the wild red Indian, hunter of the far Missouri, 
 In flowering trees hath nested up his forest-loving ancestry ; 
 Not thus, the Switzer mountaineer scattereth ribboned garlands 
 About the rustic cross that halloweth the bed of his beloved ; 
 Not thus, the village maiden wisheth she may die in spring. 
 With store of violets and cowslips to be sprinkled on her snow 
 
 white shroud ; 
 Not thus, the dying poet asketh a cheerful grave, — 
 Lay him in the sunshine, friends, nor sorrow that a Christian hath 
 departed ! 
 
 Yea ; it is the poetry of Death, an Orpheus gladdening Hades, 
 
 To care with mindful love for all so dear — and dead ; 
 
 To think of them in hope, to look for them in joy, and — but for its 
 
 simple vanity — 
 To pray with all tlie earnestness of nature for souls who cannot 
 
 change. 
 For the tree is felled, and boughed, and bare, and the Measurer 
 
 standeth with his line ; 
 The chance is gone for ever, and is past the reach of prayer : 
 For men and angels, good and ill, have rendered all their %vitness ; 
 The trial is over, the jury are gone in, and none can now be heard ; 
 Well are they agreed upon the verdict, just, and fixt, and final, 
 And the sentence showeth clear, before the Judge hath spoken : 
 Now, — while resting matter is at peace within the tomb. 
 The conscious spirit watcheth in unspeakable suspense ; 
 Racked with a fearful looking-forward, or blissfully feeding on the 
 
 foretaste. 
 Waiting souls in eager expectation pass the solemn interval : 
 They slumber not at death, but awaken, quickened to the terrors 
 
 of the judgment ;
 
 214 OF DEATH. 
 
 They lie not insensate among darkness, but exult, looking forward 
 
 to the light : 
 Idiotcy, brightening on the instant, when that veil is torn, 
 Is grateful that his torpor here hath left him as an innocent : 
 The young child, stricken as he played, and guileless babes unborn, 
 Freed from fetters of the flesh, burst into mind immediate : 
 Madness judgeth wisely and the visions of the lunatic are gone. 
 And each hasteneth to praise the mercy that made him irresponsible. 
 For the soul is one, though manifold in act, working the machinery 
 
 of brain, 
 Reason, fancy, conscience, passion, are but varying phases ; 
 If, in God's wise purpose, the machine were shattered or confused. 
 Still is soul the same, though it exhibit with a difference : 
 Therefore, dissipate the brain, and set its inmate free, 
 Behold, the maniacs and embryos stand in their place intelligent. 
 That solvent eateth away all dross, leaving the gold intact : 
 Matter lingereth in the retort, spirit hath flown to the receiver. 
 And lo, that recipient of the spirits, it is some aerial world, 
 An oasis midway on the desert space, separating earth from heaven, 
 A prison house for essences incorporate, a limbus vague and wide, 
 Tartarus for evil, and Paradise for good, that intermediate Hades. 
 
 O Death, what art thou ? a Lawgiver that never altereth. 
 
 Fixing the consummating seal, whereby the deeds of life become 
 
 established : 
 O Death, what art thou ? a stern and silent usher, 
 Leading to the judgment for Eternity, after the trial scene of Time : 
 O Death, what art thou? the Husbandman, that reapeth always, 
 Out of season, as in season, with a sickle in his hand : 
 O Death, what art thou? the shadow unto every substance. 
 In the bower as in the battle, haunting night and day : 
 O Death, what art thou ? Nurse of dreamless slumbers 
 Freshening the fevered flesh to a wakefulness eternal : 
 O Death, what art thou ? strange and solemn Alchymist, 
 Elaborating life's elixir from these clayey crucibles : 
 O Death, what art thou ? Antitype of Nature's marvels. 
 The seed and dormant chrysalis bursting into energy and glory. 
 Thou calm safe anchorage for the shattered hulls of men, — 
 Thou spot of gelid shade, after the hot-breathed desert, — 
 Thou silent waiting-hall, where Adam meeteth with his children, — 
 How full of dread, how full of hope, loometh inevitable Death :
 
 OF IMMOR TALITY. 2 1 ; 
 
 Of dread, for all have sinned ; of hope, for One hath saved : 
 The dread is drowned in joy, the hope is filled with immortalit)- ! 
 — Pass along, pilgrim of life, go to thy grave unfearing. 
 The terrors are but shadows now, that haunt the vale of Death. 
 
 OF IMMORTALITY. 
 
 Gird up thy mind to contemplation, trembling inhabitant of earth ; 
 Tenant of a hovel for a day,— thou art heir of the universe for ever ! 
 For, neither congealing of the grave, nor gulphing waters of the 
 
 firmament. 
 Nor expansive airs of heaven, nor dissipative fires of Gehenna, 
 Nor rust of rest, nor wear, nor waste, nor loss, nor chance, nor 
 
 change, 
 Shall avail to quench or overwhelm the spark of soul within thee ! 
 
 Thou art an imperishable leaf on the evergreen bay-tree of 
 Existence ; 
 
 A word from wisdom's mouth, that cannot be unspoken ; 
 
 A ray of Love's own light ; a drop in Mercy's sea ; 
 
 A creature, marvellous and fearful, begotten by the fiat of Omni- 
 potence. 
 
 I, that speak in weakness, and ye, that hear in charity. 
 
 Shall not cease to live and feel, though flesh must see corruption ; 
 
 For the prison-gates of matter shall be broken, and the shackled 
 soul go free, 
 
 Free, for good or ill, to satisfy its appetence for ever : 
 
 For ever, — dreadful doom, to be hurried on eternally to evil,^ 
 
 For ever, — happy fate, to ripen into perfectness — for ever ! 
 
 And is there a thought within thy heart, O slave of sin and fear, 
 
 A black and harmful hope, that erring spirit dieth? 
 
 That primal disobedience hath ensured the death of soul, 
 
 And separate evil sealed it thine — thy curse. Annihilation? 
 
 Heed thou this ; there is a Sacrifice ; the Maker is Redeemer of his 
 
 creature ; 
 Freely unto each, universally to all, is restored the privilege of 
 
 essence : 
 Whether unto grace or guilt, all must live through Him, 
 Live in vital joy, or live in dying vroe :
 
 4^- 
 
 216 OF IMMORTALITY. 
 
 Death in Adam, Life in Christ : the curse hung upon the cross : 
 Who art thou that heedest of redemption, as narrower than the 
 
 fall? 
 All were dead, — He died for all ; that living, they might love ; 
 If living souls withhold their love, — still. He hath died for them. 
 Eve stole the knowledge ; Christ gave the life : 
 Knowledge and life are the perquisites of soul, the privilege of 
 
 Man : 
 Mercy stepped between and stayed the double theft ; 
 God gave ; and giving, bought ; and buying, asketh love : 
 And in such asking rendereth bliss, to all that hear and answer, 
 For love with life is heaven ; and life unloving, hell. 
 
 Creature of God, his will is for thy weal, eternally progressing ; 
 Fear not to trust a Maker's love, nor a Saviour's ransom : 
 He drank for all, — for thee, and me, — the poison of our deeds ; 
 We shall not die, but live, — and, of his grace, we love. 
 For, in the mysteries of Mercy, the One fore-knowing Spirit 
 Outstrippeth reason's halting choice, and winneth men to Him : 
 Who shall sound the depths ? who shall reach the heights ? 
 Freedom, in the gyves of fate ; and sovereignty, reconciled with 
 justice. 
 
 If then, as annihilate by sin, the soul was ever forfeit, 
 
 Godhead paid the mighty price, the pledge hath been redeemed : 
 
 He from the waters of Oblivion raised the drowning race. 
 
 Lifting them even to Himself, the baseless Rock of Ages. 
 
 None can escape from Adam's guilt, or second Adam's guerdon : 
 
 Sin and death are thine ; thine also is interminable being : 
 
 Let it be even as thou wilt, still are we ransomed from nonentity, 
 
 The worlds of bliss and woe are peopled with immortals : 
 
 And ruin is thy blame ; for thou, the worst, art free 
 
 To take from Heaven the grace of love, as the gift of life : 
 
 Yet is not remedy thy praise ; for thou, the best, art bound 
 
 In self, and sin, and darkling sloth, until He break the chain : 
 
 None can tell, without a struggle, if that chain be broken ; 
 
 Strive to-day, — one effort more may prove that thou art free ! 
 
 Here is faith and prayer, here is the Grace and the Atonement, 
 
 Here is the creature feeling for its God, and the prodigal returning 
 
 to his Father, 
 r.iit, behold, His reasonable children, standing in just probation,
 
 OF IMMOR TAUT Y. 217 
 
 With ears to hear, neglect ; with eyes to see, refuse : 
 
 They will not have the blessing with the life, the blessing that 
 
 enricheth immortality ; 
 And look for pleasures out of God, for heaven in life alone ; 
 So, they snatcli that awful prize, existence void of love, 
 And in their darkening exile make a needful hell of self. 
 
 Therefore fear, thou sinner, lest the huge blessing. Immortality, 
 Be blighted in thine evil to a curse, — it were better he had not 
 
 been born ; 
 Therefore hope, thou saint, for the gift of Immortality is free ; 
 Take and live, and live in lo^•c ; fear not, thou art redeemed ! 
 The happy life, that height of hope, the knowledge of all good. 
 This is the blessing on obedience, obedience the child of faith ; 
 The miserable life, that depth of all despair, the knowledge of all 
 
 evil. 
 This is the curse upon impenitence, impenitence that sprung of 
 
 unbelief. 
 God, from a beautiful necessity, is Love in all He doeth, 
 Love, a brilliant fire, to gladden or consume : 
 The wicked work theirwoe by looking upon love, and hating it : 
 The righteous find their joys in yearning on its loveliness for ever. 
 
 Who shall imagine Immortality, or picture its illimitable prospect ? 
 
 How feebly can a faltering tongue express the vast idea ! 
 
 For consider the primaeval woods that bristle over broad Australia, 
 
 And count their autumn leaves, millions multiplied by millions ; 
 
 Thence look up to a moonless sky from a sleeping isle of the 
 .^goean. 
 
 And add to these leaves yon starry host, sparkling on the mid- 
 night numberless ; 
 
 Thence traverse an Arabia, some continent of eddying sand, 
 
 Gather each grain, let none escape, add them to the leaves and to 
 the stars ; 
 
 Afterward gaze upon the sea, the thousand leagues of an Atlantic, 
 
 Take drop by drop, and add their sum, to the grains, and leaves, 
 and stars ; 
 
 The drops of ocean, the desert sands, the leaves, and stars innu- 
 merable, 
 
 (Albeit, in that multitude of multitudes, each small unit were an 
 age.)
 
 ^^ 
 
 2i8 OF IMMORTALITY. 
 
 All might reckon for an instant, a transient flash of Time, 
 Compared with this intolerable blaze, the measureless Enduring of 
 eternity ! 
 
 O grandest gift of the Creator, — O largess worthy of a God, — 
 Who shall grasp that thrilling thought, life and joy for ever ? 
 For the sun in heaven's heaven is Love that cannot change, 
 And the shining of that sun is life, to all beneath its beams : 
 Who shall arrest it in the firmament, — or drag it from its sphere ? 
 Or bid its beauty smile no more, but be extinct for ever ? 
 Yea, where God hath given, none shall take away, 
 Nor build up limits to his love, nor bid his bounty cease ; 
 Wide, as space is peopled, endless as the empire of heaven, 
 The river of the water of life floweth on in majesty for ever ! 
 
 Why should it seem a thing impossible to thee, O man of many 
 doubts, 
 
 That God shall wake the dead, and give this mortal immortality? 
 
 Is it that such riches are unsearchable, the bounty too profuse ? 
 
 And yet, what gift, to cease or change, is worthy of the King 
 Almighty ! 
 
 For remember the moment thou art not, thou mightest as well not 
 have been ; 
 
 A millennium and an hour are equal in the gulph of that desolate 
 abyss, annihilation : 
 
 If Adam had existed till to-day, and to-day had perished utterly. 
 
 What were his gain in length of a life, that hath passed away for 
 ever? 
 
 No tribute of thanks can exhale from the empty censer of non- 
 entity : 
 
 The Giver, with his gift reclaimed, is mulcted of all praise. 
 
 Tell me, ye that strive in vain to cramp and dwarf the soul, 
 Wherefore should it cease to be, and when shall essence die? 
 It is, — and therefore shall be, — till just obstacle opposeth : 
 Show no cause for change, and reason leaneth to continuance. 
 The body verily shall change ; this curious house we live in 
 Never had continuing stay, but changeth every instant : 
 But the spiritual tenant of the house abideth in unalterable con- 
 sciousness. 
 He may fly to many lands, but cannot flee himself. 
 
 ^
 
 h ^ — ^ 
 
 r OF IMMORTALIT\!. 219 T 
 
 The soil wherein ye drop the seed, by suns or rains may vary ; 
 But the seed is the same ; and soul is the seed ; and flesh but its 
 anchorage to earth. 
 
 Tlie machine may be broken, and rust corrode the springs : but 
 
 can rust feed on motion ? 
 Worms may batten on the brain : but can worms gnaw the mind ? 
 Dynamics are, and dwell apart, though matter be not made ; 
 Spirit is, and can be separate, though a body were not : 
 Power is one, be it lever, screw, or wedge ; but it needeth these 
 
 for illustration : 
 Mind is one, be it casual or ideal ; but it is shown in these. 
 The creature is constructed individual, for trial of his reasonable 
 
 will, 
 Clay and soul, commingled wisely, mingled not confused : 
 As power is not in the spring, till somewhat give it action. 
 So, until spirit be infused, the organism lieth inergetic. 
 
 Or shalt thou say that mind is the delicate offspring of matter, 
 The bright consummate flower that must perish with its leaf? 
 Go to : doth weight breed lightness? is freedom the atmosphere 
 
 of prisons ? 
 When did the body elevate, expand, and bud the mind ? 
 Lo, a red hot cinder flung from the furnaces of ^tna, — 
 There is fire in that ash ; but did the pumice make it ? 
 Nay, cold clod, never canst thou generate a flame. 
 Nay, most exquisite machinery, never-more elaborate a mind ; 
 Rather do ye battle and contend, opposite the one to the other ; 
 Till God shall stop the strife, and call the body colleague. 
 
 Garment of flesh, and art thou then a vest, so tinged with subtle 
 
 poison, 
 (Maddening tunic of the centaur,) as to kill the soul ? 
 Not so : fruit of disobedience, rot in dissolution, as thou must, — 
 The seed is in the core, its germ is safe, and life is in that germ : 
 Moreover, Marah shall be sweetened ; and a Good Physician 
 Yet shall heal those gangrene wounds, the spotted plague of sin ; 
 lie, through worldly trials, and the separative cleansing of the 
 
 grave, 
 Shall change its corruptible to glory, and wash that garment 
 
 white.
 
 4* 
 
 220 OF IMMORTALITY. 
 
 Still, is the whisper in thy heart, that oftenest the bed of death 
 
 Seemeth but a sluggish ebb, of sinking soul and body? 
 
 Mind dwelling, long-time, sensual in the chambers of the flesh. 
 
 May slumber on in conscious sloth, and wilfully be dulled : 
 
 But is it therefore nigh to dissolution, even as the body of this 
 
 death ? 
 Ask the stricken conscience, gasping out its terrors ; 
 Ask the dying miser, loth to leave his gold ; 
 Ask the widowed poor, confiding her fatherless to strangers ; 
 Ask the martyr -maid, a broken reed so strong, 
 That weak and tortured frame, with triumph on its brow ! — 
 O thou gainsayer, the finger of disease may seem to reach the 
 
 soul. 
 But it is a spiritual touch, sympathy with that which aileth : 
 Pain or fear may dislocate and shatter this delicate machinery of 
 
 nerves ; 
 But madness proveth mind : the fault is in the engine, not the 
 
 impetus : 
 Dissipate the mists of matter, lo, the soul is clear : 
 Timour's cage bowed it in the dust ; but now it goeth forth a 
 
 freedman. 
 
 Yet more, there is reason in moralities, that the soul must live ; 
 
 If God be king in heaven, or have care for earth. 
 
 Can wickedness have triumphed with impunity, or virtue toiled 
 unseen ? 
 
 Shall cruelty torture unavenged, and the innocent complain un- 
 heard ? 
 
 Is there no recompense for woe, — must there be no other world for 
 justice, — 
 
 No hope in setting suns of good, nor terror for the evil at its 
 zenith ? 
 
 How shall ye make answer unto this ; a just God prospering 
 iniquity. 
 
 Wisdom encouraging the foolish, and Goodness abetting the de- 
 praved ! 
 
 Vet again ; mine erring brother, pardon this abundance of my 
 
 speech. 
 Yield me thy candour and thy charity, listening with a welcome : 
 5 For, even now, a thousand thoughts are trooping to my theme ;
 
 OF IMMORTALITY. 221 
 
 O mighty theme, O feeble thoughts ! Alas ! who is sufficient ? 
 Judge not so high a cause by these poor words alone, 
 For lo, the advocate hath little skill : pardon, and pass on. 
 Certify thyself with surer proofs ; fledge thine own mind for 
 
 flight ; 
 Think, and pray ; those better proofs shall follow on with holy 
 
 aspiration. 
 Yet in my humbler grade to help thy weal and comfort, 
 Thy weal for this and higher worlds, and comfort in thy sickness, 
 Suffer the multitude of fancies, walking with me still in love ; 
 But tread in fear, it is holy ground,— remember, Immortality ! 
 
 Wilt thou argue from infirmities, thine abject evil state, 
 
 As how should stricken wretched man indeed exist for ever : 
 
 The brutal and besotted, the savage and the slave, the sucking 
 
 infant and the idiot, 
 The mass of mean and common minds, and all to be immortal? — 
 Consider every beginning, how small it is and feeble : 
 Ganges, and the rolling Mississippi sprung of brooks among the 
 
 mountains ; 
 The yew-tree of a thousand years was once a little seed ; 
 And Nero's marble Rome, a shepherd's mudbuilt hovel : 
 A speck is on the tropic sky, and it groweth to the terrible 
 
 tornado ; 
 An apple, all too fair to see, destroyed a world of souls : 
 A tender babe is born, — it is Attila, scourge of the nations ! 
 A seeming malefactor dieth, — it is Jesus, the Saviour of men ! 
 
 And hive not in thy thoughts the vain and wordy notion 
 
 That nothing which was born in Time can tire out the footsteps of 
 Infinity : 
 
 Reckon up a sum in numbers ; where .shall progression stop ? 
 
 The starting-post is definite and fixed, but what is the goal of 
 numeration ? 
 
 So, begin upon a moment, and when shall being end ? 
 
 Souls emanate from God, to travel with Him equally for ever. 
 
 Moreover, thou that objectest the unenterable circle of eternity. 
 
 That none but He from everlasting can endure, as to a future ever- 
 lasting. 
 
 Consider, may it be impossible that creatures were counted in their 
 Maker, 
 
 ^
 
 ^ 
 
 222 OF IMMORTALITY. 
 
 And so, that the confines of Eternity are filled by God alone ? 
 Trust not thy soul upon a fancy : who would freight a bubble with 
 
 a diamond, 
 A.nd launch that priceless gem on the boiling rapids of a cataract ? 
 
 If then we perish not at death, but walk in spirit through the dark- 
 ness, 
 Waiting for a mansion incorruptible, whereof this body is the seed, 
 Tell me, when shall be the period ? time and its ordeals are done : 
 The storms are passed, the night is at end, behold the Sabbath 
 
 jnorning. 
 Is death to be conqueror again, and claim once more the victory, — 
 Can the enemy's corpse awaken into life, and bruise tlie Cham- 
 pion's head? 
 Evil, terrible ensample, that foil to the attributes of Good, 
 Is banished to its own black world, weeded out of earth and 
 
 heaven : 
 Shall that great gulf be passed, and sin be sown again ? — 
 We know but this, the book of truth proclaimeth gladly. Never ! 
 
 There remaineth the will of our God : when He repenteth of his 
 creature. 
 
 Made by self-suggested mercy, ransomed by self-sacrificing jus- 
 tice, — 
 
 When Truth, that swore unto his neighbour, disappointeth him, and 
 cleaveth to a lie, — 
 
 When the counsels of Wisdom are confounded, and Love warreth 
 with itself, — 
 
 When the Unchangeable is changed, and the arm of Omnipotence 
 is broken, — 
 
 Then, — thy quenchless soul shall have reached the goal of its 
 existence. 
 
 But it seemeth to thy notions of the merciful and just, a false and 
 
 fearful thing. 
 To lay such a burden upon time, that eternity be built on its 
 
 foundation : 
 As if so casual good or ill should colour all the future, 
 And the vanity of accident, or sternness of necessity, save or wreck 
 
 a soul. 
 Were it casual, vain, or stern, this might pass for truth : 
 
 A
 
 OF IMMORTALITY. 223 
 
 But all things are marshalled by Design, and carefully tended by 
 
 Benevolence. 
 O man, thy Judge is righteous, — noting, remembering, and weig'n- 
 
 inrr   
 
 Want, ignorance, diversities of state, are cast into the balance of 
 advantage : 
 
 The poisonous example of a parent asketh for allowance in the child ; 
 
 Care, diseases, toils, and frailties, — all things are considered. 
 
 And again, a mysterious Omniscience knoweth the spirits that are 
 His, 
 
 While the delicate tissues of Event are woven by the fingers of 
 Ubiquity. 
 
 Should Providence be taken by surprise from the possible imping- 
 ing of an accident, 
 
 One fortuitous grain might dislocate the banded universe : 
 
 The merest seeming trifle is ordered as the morning liglit ; 
 
 And He, that rideth on the hurricane, is pilot of the bubble on 
 the breaker. 
 
 Once more, consider Matter, how small a thing is father to the 
 
 greatest ; 
 Thou that lightly hast regarded the results of so-called accident. 
 A blade of grass took fire in the sun, — and the prairies are burnt 
 
 to the horizon : 
 A grain of sand may blind the eye, and madden the brain to 
 
 murder : 
 A careful fly deposited its egg in the swelling bud of an acorn, — 
 The sapling grew, — cankrous and gnarled, — it is yonder hollow 
 
 oak : 
 A child touched a spring, and the spring closed a valve, and the 
 
 labouring engine burst, — 
 A thousand lives were in that ship, — wrecked by an infant's finger ! 
 Shall nature preach in vain? thy casualty, guided in its orbit, 
 Though less than a mote upon the sunbeam, saileth in a fleet of 
 
 worlds ; 
 That trivial cause, watered and observed of the Husbandman day 
 
 by day, 
 In calm undeviating strength doth work its large effect. 
 Thus, in the pettiness of life note thou seeds of grandeur. 
 And watch the hour-glass of Time with the eyes of an heir ot 
 
 Immortality. 
 
 ^
 
 ^ 
 
 T 
 
 224 OF IMMORTALITY. 
 
 There still be clouds of witnesses, — if thou art not weary of my 
 
 speech, — 
 Flocks of thoughts adding lustre to the light, and pointing on to 
 
 Life. 
 For reflect how Truth and Goodness, well and wisely put, 
 Commend themselves to every mind with wondrous intuition : 
 What is this ? the recognition of a standard, unwritten, natural, 
 
 uniform ; 
 Telling of one common source, the root of Good and True. 
 And if thus present soul can trace descent from Deity, 
 Being, as it standeth, individual, a separate reasonable thing, 
 What should hinder that its hope may not trace gladly forward, 
 And, in astounding parallel, like Enoch walk with God ? 
 Yea, the genealogy of soul, that vivifying breath of a Creator, 
 Breath, no transient air, but essence, energy, and reason. 
 Is looming on the past, and shadowing the future, sublimely as 
 
 Melchisedek of old, 
 Having not beginning, nor end of days, but present in the majesty 
 
 of Peace ! 
 
 O false scholar, credulous in vanities and only sceptical of truth. 
 Wherefore toil to cheat thy soul of its birthright. Immortality ? 
 Is it for thy guilt ? He pardoneth : Is it for thy frailty ? He will 
 
 help : 
 Though thou fearest. He is love ; and Mercy shall be deeper than 
 
 Despair : 
 Even for thy full-blown pride, is it much to be receiver of a God ? 
 And lo, thy rights, He made thee ; thy claims, He hath redeemed. 
 Hath the fair aspect of affection no beauty that thou shouldst 
 
 desire it ? 
 And are those sorrows nothing, to thee that passest by ? 
 For it is Fact, immutable, that God hath dwelt in Man: 
 With gentle generous love ennobling while He bought us. 
 What, though thou art false, ignorant, weak and daring, — 
 Can the sun be quenched in heaven — or only Belisarius be blind? 
 
 But, even stooping to thy folly, grant all these hopes are vain ; 
 Stultify reason, wrestle against conscience, and wither up the heart : 
 Where is thy vast advantage i*— I have all that thou hast. 
 The buoyancy of life as strong, and term of days no shorter ; 
 My cup is full with gladness, my griefs are not more galling ;
 
 OF IMMORTALITY. zz^ 
 
 And thus, we walk together, even to the gates of death : 
 There, (if not also on my journey, blessing every step, 
 Gladdening with light, and quickening with love, and killing all 
 
 my cares,) 
 There, — whde thou art quailing, or sullenly expecting to be 
 
 nothing, — 
 There, — is found my gain ; I triumph where thou tremblest. 
 Grant all my solace is a lie, yet it is a fountain of delight, 
 A spice in every pleasure, and a balm for every pain : 
 O precious wise delusion, scattering both misery and sin, — 
 
 vile and silly truth, depraving while it curseth ! 
 
 Darkling child of knowledge, commune with Socrates and Cicero, 
 They had no prejudice of birth, no dull parental warpings ; 
 See, those lustrous minds anticipate the dawning day, — 
 Whilst thou, poor mole, art burrowing back to darkness from the 
 light. 
 
 1 will not urge a revelation, mercies, miracles, and martyrs. 
 But, after twice a thousand years, go, learn thou of the pagan ; 
 
 It were happier and wiser even among fools, to cling to the shadow 
 
 of a hope, 
 Than, in the company of sages, to win the substance of despair ; 
 But here, the sages hope ; despair is with the fools. 
 The base bad hearts, the stolid heads, the sensual and the selfish. 
 
 And wilt thou, sorry scorner, mock the phrase, despair ? 
 
 Despair for those who die and live, — for me, I live and die : 
 
 What have I to do with dread?— my taper must go out ; — 
 
 I nurse no silly hopes, and therefore feel no fears : 
 
 I am hastening to an End. — O false and feeble answer : 
 
 For hope is in thee still, and fear, a racking deep anxiety. 
 
 Erring brother, listen : and take thine answer from the ancients : 
 
 Consider every end, that it is but the end of a beginning : 
 
 All things work in circles ; weariness induceth unto rest, 
 
 Rest invigorateth labour, and labour causeth weariness : 
 
 W^ar produceth peace, and peace is wanton unto war : 
 
 Light dieth into darkness, and night dawneth into day : 
 
 The rotting jungle reeds scatter fertility around ; 
 
 The buffalo's dead carcass hath quickened life in millions : 
 
 The end of toil is gain, the end of gain is pleasure. 
 
 Pleasure tendeth unto waste, and waste commandeth toil. 
 
 4-
 
 ^ 
 
 226 OF IMMOR TA LI TV. 
 
 So, is death an end, — but it breedeth an infinite beginning ; 
 
 Limits are for time, and death killed time ; Eternity's beginning is 
 for ever. 
 
 Ambition, hath it any goal indeed ? is not all fruition, disappoint- 
 ment ? 
 
 A step upon the ladder, and another, and another, — we start from 
 every end ? 
 
 Look to the eras of mortality ; babe, student, man. 
 
 The husband, the father, the death-bed of a saint,— and is it then 
 an end ? 
 
 That common climax, Death, shall it lead to nothing ? 
 
 How strong a root of causes flowering a consequence of vapour : 
 
 That solid chain of facts, is it to be snapped for ever ? 
 
 How stout a show of figures, weakly summing to nonentity. 
 
 Or haply. Death, in the doublings of thy thought, shall seem con- 
 tinuous ending ; 
 A dull eternal slumber, not an end abrupt. 
 
 most futile chrysalis, wherefore dost thou sleep ? 
 Dreamless, unconscious, never to awake, — what object in such 
 
 slumber ? 
 If thou art still to live, it may as well be wakefully as sleeping : 
 How grovelling must that spirit be, to need eternal sleep ! 
 Or was indeed the toil of life so heavy and so long. 
 That nevermore can rest refresh thine overburdened soul ?— 
 Sleep is a recreance to body, but when was mind asleep ? 
 Even in a swoon it dreametli, though all be forgotten afterward : 
 The muscles seek relaxing, and the irritable nerves ask peace ; 
 But life is a constant force, spirit an unquietable impetus : 
 The eye may wear out as a telescope, and the brain work slow as 
 
 a machine, 
 But soul, unwearied, and for ever, is capable of effort unimpaired. 
 
 1 live, move, am conscious : what shall bar my being ? 
 Where is the rude hand, to rend this tissue of existence ? 
 Not thine, shadowy Death, what art thou but a phantom ? 
 Not thine, foul Corruption, what art thou but a fear? 
 
 For death is merely absent life, as darkness absent light ; 
 
 Not even a suspension, for the life hath sailed away, steering gladly 
 
 somewhere. 
 And corruption, closely noted, is but a dissolving of the parts,
 
 OF IMMORTALITY. 227 
 
 The parts remain, and notliing lost, to build a better whole. 
 
 Moreover, mind is unity, however versatile and rapid ; 
 
 Tliou canst not entertain two coincident ideas, although they 
 
 quickly follow : 
 And Unity hath no parts, so that there is nothing to dissolve : 
 The element is still unchanged in every searching solvent. 
 Who then shall bid me be annulled ? — He that gave me being ? 
 Amen, if God so will ; I know that will is love : 
 But love hath promised life, and therefore I shall live ; 
 So long as he is God, I shall be his Creature ! 
 
 And here, shrewd reasoner, so eager to prove that thou must perish, 
 I note a sneer upon thy lip, and ridicule is haply on thy tongue : 
 How, said he, — creature of a God, and are not all his creatures, — 
 The lion, and the gnat, — yea, the mushroom, and the crystal^ — • 
 
 have all these a soul ? 
 Thy fancies tend to prove too much, and overshoot the mark : 
 If I die not with brutes, then brutes must live with me? — 
 I dare not tell thee that they will, for the word is not in my com- 
 mission ; 
 But of the twain it is the likelier ; continuance is the chance : 
 INIen, dying in their sins, are likened unto beasts that perish ; 
 They ai-e dark, animal, insensate, but have they not a lurking soul? 
 The spirit of a man goeth upward, reasonable, apprehending God ; 
 The spirit of a beast goeth downward, sensual, doting on the crea- 
 ture : 
 Who told thee they die at dissolution? — boldly think it out, — 
 The multitude of flies, and the multitude of herbs, the world wilh 
 
 all its beings : 
 Is Infinity too narrow. Omnipotence too weak, and Love so anx- 
 ious to destroy, 
 Doth Wisdom change its plan, and a Maker cancel his created ? 
 God's will may compass all things, to fashion and to nullify at 
 
 pleasure : 
 Yet are there many thoughts of hope, that all which are shall live. 
 True, there is no conscience in the brute, beyond some educated 
 
 habit, 
 They lay them down without a fear, and wake without a hope : 
 Hunger and pain is of the animal : but when did they reckon or 
 
 compare ? 
 They live, idealess, in instinct ; and while they breathe they gain : 
 
 4
 
 ^- 
 
 -^- 
 
 228 OF IMMORTALITY. 
 
 The master is an idol to his dog, who cannot rise beyond him ; 
 
 And void of capability for God, there would seem small cause for 
 an infinity. 
 
 Therefore, caviller, my poor thoughts dare not grant they live : 
 
 But is it not a great thing to assume their annihilation — and thine 
 own ? 
 
 Would it be much if a speck on space, this globe with all its mil- 
 lions, 
 
 Verily, after its pollution, were suffered to exist in purity? 
 
 Or much, if guiltless creatures, that were cruelly entreated uuon 
 earth, 
 
 Found some commensurate reward in lower joys hereafter 7" 
 
 Or much, if a Creator, prodigal of life, and filled with the profun- 
 dity of love. 
 
 Rejoice in all creatures of his skill, and lead them to perfection in 
 their kind ? 
 
 O man, there are many marvels ; yet life is more a mystery than 
 death : 
 
 For death may be some stagnant life, — but life is present God ! 
 
 Many are the lurking holes of evil ; who shall search them out ? 
 
 Who so skilled to cut away the cancer with its fibres ? 
 
 For wily minds with sinuous ease escape from lie to lie ; 
 
 And cowards driven from the trench steal back to hide again. 
 
 Vain were the battle, if a warrior, having slain his foes, 
 
 Shall turn and find them vital still, unharmed, yea, unashamed : 
 
 For Error, dark magician, daily cast out killed, 
 
 Quickeneth animate anew beneath the midnight moon : 
 
 Once and again, once and again, hath reason answered wisely ; 
 
 But not the less with brazen front doth folly urge her questions. 
 
 It were but unprofitable toil, a stand-up fight with unbelief : 
 
 When was there candour in a caviller, and who can satisfy the 
 
 faithless ? 
 Too long, O truant from the fold, have I tracked thy devious 
 
 paths ; 
 Too long, treacherous deserter, fought thee as a noble foeman : 
 Haply, my small art, and an arm too weakly for its weapon, 
 Hath failed to pierce thine iron coat, and reach thy stricken soul : 
 Haply, the fervour of my speech, and too patient sifting of thy 
 
 fancies, 
 Shall tend to make thee prize them more, as worthier and wiser : 
 
 ^
 
 OF IMMORTALITY, 229 
 
 Go to : be mine the gain : we measure swords no more ; 
 Go, — and a word go with thee, — Man, thou art ImnKirtal ! 
 
 Cliild of hght, and student in the truth, too long liave I forgotten 
 
 thee : 
 Lo, after parley with an alien, let me hold sweet converse with a 
 
 brother. 
 Glorious hopes, and ineffable imaginings, crowd our lioly theme ; 
 Fear hath been slaughtered on the portal, and Doubt driven back 
 
 to darkness : 
 For Christ hath died, and we in Him ; by faitli His All is ours ; 
 Cross and crown, and love, and life ; and we shall reign in Him ! 
 Yea, there is a fitness and a beauty in ascribing immortality to 
 
 mind, 
 That its energies and lofty aspirations may have scope for inde- 
 finite expansion : 
 To learn all things is privilege of reason, and that with a growing 
 
 capability, 
 But in this age of toil and time we scarce attain to alphabets : 
 How hardly in the midst of our hurry, and jostled by the cares of 
 
 life, 
 Shall a man turn and stop to consider mighty secrets ; 
 With barely hours, and barely powers, to fill up daily duties, 
 How small the glimpse of knowledge, his wondering eye can 
 
 catch : 
 And knowledge is a noting of the order wherein God's attributes 
 
 evolve. 
 Therefore worthy of the creature, worthy of an angel's seeking : 
 Yea, and human knowledge, meagre though the harvest, 
 Hath its roots, both deep and strong ; but the plants are exotic to 
 
 the climate : 
 All we seem to know demand a longer learning, 
 History and science, and prophecy and art, are workings all of 
 
 God: 
 And there are galaxies of globes, millions of unimagined beings, 
 Other senses, wondrous sounds, and thoughts of thrilling fire, 
 Powers of strange might, quickening unknown elements, 
 And attributes and energies of God which man may never guess. 
 
 Not in vain, O brother, hath soul the spurs of enterprise, 
 
 Nor aimlessly pantclh for adventure, waiting at the cave of mystery :
 
 ^■ 
 
 + 
 
 230 OF IMMORTALITY. 
 
 Not in vain the cup of curiosity, sweet and riclily spiced, 
 
 Is ruby to tlie siglit, and ambrosia to tlie taste, and redolent wi^h 
 
 all fragrance : 
 Thou shalt drink, and deeply, filling the mind with marvels ; 
 Thou shalt watch no more, lingering, disappointed of thy hope ; 
 Thou shalt roam where road is none, a traveller untrammelled; 
 Speeding at a wish, emancipate, to where the stars are suns ! 
 
 Count, count your hopes, heirs of immortality and love ; 
 
 And hear my kindred faith, and tui'n again to bless me : 
 
 For lo, my trust is strong to dwell in many worlds, 
 
 And cull of many brethren there, sweet knowledge ever new : 
 
 I yearn for realms where fancy shall be filled, and the ecstacies of 
 
 freedom shall be felt, 
 And the soul reign gloriously, risen to its royal destinies : 
 I look to recognise again, through the beautiful mask of their per- 
 fection. 
 The dear familiar faces I have somewhile loved on earth : 
 I long to talk with grateful tongue of storms and perils past, 
 And praise the mighty Pilot that hath steered us through tlip 
 
 rapids : 
 He shall be the focus of it all, the very heart of gladness, — 
 My soul is athirst for God, the God who dwelt in Man ! 
 Prophet, priest, and king, the sacrifice, the substitute, the S?.viour, 
 Rapture of the blessed in the hunted One of earth, the Pardoner 
 
 in the victim : 
 How many centuries of joy concentrate in that theme, 
 How often a Methuselah might count his thousand years and leave 
 
 it unexhausted ! 
 And lo, the heavenly Jerusalem, with all its gates one pearl, 
 That pearl of countless price, the door by which we entered, — 
 Come, tread the golden streets, and join that glorious throng. 
 The happy ones of heaven and earth, ten thousand times ten thou- 
 sand ; 
 Hark, they sing that song, — and cast their crowns before him ; 
 Their souls alight with love, — Glory, and Praise, and Immor- 
 tality !— 
 Veil thine eyes : no son of time may see that holy vision, 
 And even tlie seraph at thy side hath covered his face Avith wings. 
 
 Doth he not speak parables ? — each one goeth on his way,
 
 ¥ 
 
 OF IDEAS. 231 
 
 Ve thc>t hear, and I that counsel, go on our ways forgetful. 
 
 For the terrible realities whereto we tend, are hidden from our 
 
 eyes ; 
 We know, but heed them not, and walk as if the temporal were all 
 
 things. 
 Vanities, buzzing on the ear, till its drowsy chambers, 
 Slow to dread those coming fears, the thunder and the trumpet ; 
 Motes, steaming on the sight, dim our purblind eyes, 
 Dark to see the ponderous orb of nearing Immortality : 
 Hemmed in by hostile foes, the trifler is busied on an epigram ; 
 The dull ox, driven to slaughter, careth but for pasture by the 
 
 way. 
 Alas, that the precious things of truth, and the everlasting hills. 
 The mighty hopes we spake of, and the consciousness we feel, — 
 Alas, that all the future, and its adamantine facts. 
 Clouded by the present with intoxicating fumes, — 
 Should seem even to us, the great expectant heirs, 
 To us, the responsible and free, fearful sons of reason, 
 Only as a lovely song, sweet sounds of solemn music^ 
 A pleasant voice, and nothing more, — doth he not speak parables? 
 
 Look to thy soul, O man, for none can be surety for his brother : 
 Behold, for heaven — or for hell, — thou canst not escape from Im- 
 mortality ! 
 
 k 
 
 OF IDEAS. 
 
 Mind is like a volatile essence, flitting hither and thither, 
 A solitary sentinel of the fortress body, to show himself every- 
 where by turns : 
 Mind is indivisible and instant, with neither parts nor organs. 
 That it doeth, it doth quickly, but the whole mind doth it : 
 An active versatile agent, untiring in the principle of energy, 
 Nor space, nor time, nor rest, nor toil, can affect the tenant of the 
 
 brain. 
 His dwelling may verily be shattered, and the furniture thereof be 
 
 disarranged. 
 But the particle of Deity in man slumbereth not, neither can be 
 
 wearied : 
 However swift to change, even as the field of a kaleidoscope,
 
 ^ ^ 
 
 ^ 232 OF IDEAS. ^ 
 
 It taketh in but one idea at once, moulded for the moment to i;s 
 likeness : 
 
 Mind is as the quicksilver, which; poured from vessel to vessel, 
 
 Instantly seizeth on a shape, and as instantly again discardeth it ; 
 
 For it is an apprehensive power, closing on the properties of Matter, 
 
 Expanding to enwrap a world, collapsing to prison up an atom. 
 
 As, by night, thine irritable eyes may have seen strange changing 
 figures. 
 
 Now a wheel, now suddenly a point, a line, a curve, a zigzag, 
 
 A maze ever altering, as the dance of gnats upon a sunbeam. 
 
 Swift, intricate, neither to be prophesied, nor to be remembered in 
 succession. 
 
 So, the mind of a man, single, and perpetually moving, 
 
 Flickereth about from thought to thought, changed with each idea ; 
 
 For the passing second metamorphosed to the image of that within 
 its ken. 
 
 And throwing i].s immediate perceptions into each cause of contem- 
 plation. 
 
 It shall regard a tree ; and unconsciously, in separate review. 
 
 Embrace its colour, shape, and use, whole and individual conceptions ; 
 
 It shall read or hear of crime, and cast itself into the commission ; 
 
 It shall note a generous deed, and glow for a moment as the doer ; 
 
 It shall imagine pride or pleasure, treading on the edges of tempta- 
 tion ; 
 
 Or heed of God and of his Christ, and grow transformed to glory. 
 
 Wherefore, it is wise and well to guide the mind aright. 
 
 That its aptness may be sensitive to good, and shrink Mitli 
 
 antipathy from evil : 
 For use will mould and mark it, or nonusage dull and blunt it ; — • 
 So to talk of spirit by analogy with substance ; 
 And analogy is a truer guide, than many teachers tell of. 
 Similitudes are scattered' round, to help us, not to hurt us ; 
 Moses, in his every type, and the Greater than Tyloses, in his parables. 
 Preach, in terms that all may learn, the philosophic lessons of 
 
 analogy ; 
 And here, in a topic immaterial, the likeness of analogy is just ; 
 By habits, knit the nerves of mind, and train the gladiator shrewdly : 
 For thought shall strengthen thinking, and imagery speed ima- 
 gination. 
 Until thy .spiritual inmate shall have swelled to the giant of Otranto.
 
 k 
 
 OF IDEAS. 233 
 
 Nevertheless, heed well, that this Athlete, growing in thy brain, 
 
 T3e a wholesome Genius, not a cursed Afrite : 
 
 And see thou discipline his strength, and point his aim discreetly ; 
 
 Feed him on humility and holy things, weaned from covetous desires ; 
 
 Hour by hour and day by day, ply him with ideas of excellence, 
 
 Dragging forth the evil but to loathe, as a Spartan's drunken Helot: 
 
 And win, by gradual allurements, the still expanding soul, 
 
 To rise from a contemplated universe, even to the Hand that made it. 
 
 A comrnon mind perceiveth not beyond his eyes and ears : 
 The palings of the park of sense enthral this captured roebuck : 
 And still, though fettered in the flesh, he doth not feel his chains. 
 Externals are the world to him, and circumstance his atmosphere. 
 Therefore tangible pleasures are enough for the animal-man ; 
 He is swift to speak and slow to think, dreading his own dim con- 
 science ; 
 And solitude is terrible, and exile worse than death, 
 He cannot dwell apart, nor breathe at a distance from the crowd. 
 But minds of nobler stamp, and chiefest the mint-marked of heaven. 
 Walk independent, by themselves, freely manumitted of externals : 
 They carry viands with them, and need no refreshment by the way, 
 Nor drink of other wells than their own inner fountain. 
 Strange shall it seem how little such a man will lean upon the 
 
 accidents of life, 
 He is winged and needeth not a staff ; if it break, — he shall not fall : 
 And lightly perchance doth he remember the stale trivialities 
 
 around him, 
 He liveth in the realm of thought, beyond the world of things ; 
 These are but transient Matter, and himself enduring Spirit : 
 And worldliness will laugh to scorn that sublimated wisdom. 
 His eyes may open on a prison-cell, but the bare walls glow with 
 
 imagery ; 
 His ears may be filled with execrations, but are listening to the 
 
 music of sweet thoughts ; 
 He may dwell in a hovel witli a hero's heart, and canopy his 
 
 penury with peace, 
 For mind is a kingdom to the man, who gathereth his pleasure 
 
 from Ideas. 
 
 ^ +
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 234 OF NAMES. 
 
 OF NAMES. 
 
 Adam gave the name, when the Lord had made his creature, 
 For God led them in review, to see what man would call them. 
 As they struck his senses, he proclaimed their sounds, 
 A name for the distinguishing of each, a numeral by which it 
 
 should be known : 
 He specified the partridge by her cry, and the forest prowler by 
 
 his roaring, 
 The tree by its use, and the flower by its beauty, and everything 
 
 according: to its truth. 
 
 £5 
 
 There is an arbitrary name ; whereunto the idea attacheth ; 
 
 And there is a reasonable name, linking its fitness to idea : 
 
 Yet shall these twain run in parallel courses. 
 
 Neither shalt thou readily discern the habit from the nature. 
 
 For mind is apt and quick to wed ideas and names together, 
 
 Nor stoppeth its perception to be curious of priorities ; 
 
 And there is but little m the sound, as some have vainly fancied, 
 
 The same tone in different tongues shall be suitable to oppo.='>e 
 
 ideas : 
 Yea, take an ensample in thine own ; consider similar words : 
 How various and contrary the thoughts those kindred names 
 
 produce : 
 A house shall seem a fitting word to call a roomy dwelling, 
 Yet there is a like propriety in the small smooth sound, a mouse : 
 Mountain, as if of a necessity, is a word both mighty and majestic. — 
 What heed ye then of Fountain ? — flowing silver in the sun. 
 
 Many a fair flower is burdened with preposterous appellatives, 
 Which the wiser simplicity of nistics entitled by its beauties ; 
 And often the conceit of science, loving to be thought cosmopolite, 
 Shall mingle names of every clime, alike obscure to each. 
 There is wisdom in calling a thing fitly ; name should note par- 
 ticulars, 
 Through a character obvious to all men, and worthy of their instant 
 
 acceptation. 
 The herbalist had a simple cause for every word upon his catalogue, 
 But now the mouth of Botany is filled with empty sound ; 
 And many a peasant hath an answer on his tongue, concerning 
 some vexed flower,
 
 OF NAMES. 23s 
 
 Shrewder than the centipede phrase, wherewitlial philosophers 
 invest it. 
 
 For that, the foolishness of pride, and flatteries of cringing homage, 
 Strew with chaff the threshing-floors of science ; names perplex 
 
 them all : 
 The entomologist, who hath pried upon an insect, straightway shall 
 
 endow it with his name ; 
 It had many qualities and marks of note, — but in chief, a vain 
 
 observer : 
 The geographer shall journey to the pole, through biting frost and 
 
 desolation. 
 And, for some simple patron's sake, shall name that land the happy : 
 The fossilist hath found a bone, the rib of some huge lizard, 
 And forthwith standeth to it sponsor, to tack himself on reptile 
 
 immortalities: 
 The sportsman, hunting at the Cape, found some strange-horned 
 
 antelope, 
 The spots are new, the fame is cheap, and so his name is added. 
 Thus, obscurities encumber knowledge, even by the vanity of men, 
 Who play into each other's hand the game of giving names. 
 
 Various are the names of men, and drawn from different wells ; 
 Aspects of body, or characters of mind, the creature's first idea : 
 And som.e have sprung of trades, and some of dignities or office ; 
 Other some added to a father's, and yet more growing from a place : 
 Animal creation, with sciences, and things, — their composites, and 
 
 near associations. 
 Contributed their symbollings of old, wherewith to title men : 
 And heraldry set upon its cresture the figured attributes as ensigns 
 By which, as by a name concrete, its bearer should be known. 
 
 Egypt opened on the theme, dressing up her gods in qualities ; 
 Horns of power, feathers of the swift, mitres of catholic dominion. 
 The sovereign asp, the circle everlasting, the crook and thong of 
 
 justice, 
 By many mystic shapes and sounds displayed the idol's name. 
 Thereafter, high-plumed warriors, the chieftains of Etruria and 
 
 Troy, 
 And Xerxes, urging on his millions to the tomb of pride, Ther- 
 
 mopylre. 
 
 -^
 
 ^■ 
 
 4k- 
 
 235 OF NAMES. 
 
 And Hiero with his bounding ships, all figured at the prow, 
 And Rome's Praetorian standards, piled with strange devices, 
 And stout crusaders pressing to the battle, locked in sable mail ; 
 These all in their speaking symbols, earned, or wore, a name. 
 Eve, the mother of all living, and Abraham, father of a multitude, 
 Jacob, the supplanter, and David, the beloved, and all the worthies 
 
 of old time, 
 Noah, who came for consolation, and Benoni, son of sorrow. 
 Kings and prophets, children of the East, owned each his title of 
 
 significance. 
 
 There be names of high descent, and thereby storied honours ; 
 
 Names of fair renown, and therein characters of merit : 
 
 But to lend the lowborn noble names, is to shed upon them ridicule 
 
 and evil ; 
 Yea, many weeds run rank in pride, if men have dubbed them 
 
 cedars : 
 And to herald common mediocrity with the noisy notes of fame, 
 Tendeth to its deeper scorn ; as if it were to call the mole a mam- 
 moth. 
 Yet shall ye find the trader's babe dignified with sounding titles. 
 And little hath the father guessed the harm he did his child : 
 For either they may breed him discontent, a peevish repining at 
 
 his station. 
 Or point the finger of despite at the mule in the trappings of an 
 
 elephant : 
 And it is a kind of theft to filch appellations from the famous, 
 A soiling of the shrines of praise with folly's vulgar herd. 
 Prudence hath often gone ashamed for the name they added to his 
 
 father's. 
 If minds of mark and great achievements bore it well before : 
 For he walketh as the jay in the fable, though not by his own folly, 
 Another's fault hath compassed his misfortune, making him a 
 
 martyr to his name. 
 
 Who would call the tench a whale, or style a torch, Orion ? 
 Yet many a silly parent hath dealt likewise with his nurseling. 
 Give thy child a fit distinguishment, making him sole tenant of a 
 
 name. 
 For it were a sore hindrance to hold it in common with a huhdred : 
 In the Babel of confused identities fame is little feasible,
 
 OF NAMES. zn 
 
 The felon shall detract from tlie philanthropist, and the sage share 
 
 honours with the simple ; 
 Still, in thy title of distinguishment, fall not mto arrogant assumption, 
 Steering from caprice and affectations ; and for all thou doest, 
 
 have a reason. 
 lie that is ambitious for his son, should give him untried names, 
 For those that have served other men, haply may injure by their 
 
 evils ; 
 Or otherwise may hinder by their glories ; therefore, set him by 
 
 himself, 
 To win for his individual name some clear specific praise. 
 There were nine Homers, all goodly sons of song, but where is 
 
 any record of the eight ? 
 One grew to fame, an Aaron's rod, and swallowed up his brethren : 
 Who knoweth? more distinctly titled, those dead eight had lived ; 
 But the censers were ranged ia a circle to mingle their sweets 
 
 without a difference. 
 
 Art thou named of a common crowd, and sensible of high as- 
 pirings ? 
 It is hard for thee to rise, — yet strive: thou mayest be among them 
 
 a Musffius. 
 Art thou named of a family, the same in successive generations ? 
 It is open to thee still to eai-n for epithets, such an one, the good 
 
 or great. 
 Art thou named foolishly ? show that thou art wiser than thy 
 
 fathers, 
 Live to shame their vanity or sin by dutiful devotion to thy sphere. 
 Art thou named discreetly? It is well, the course is free : 
 No competitor shall claim thy colours, neither fix his faults upon 
 
 thee : 
 Hasten to the goal of fame between the posts of duty, 
 And win a blessing from the world, that men may love thy name : 
 Yea, that the unction of its praise, in fragrance well deserving. 
 May float adown the stream of time, like ambergris at sea ; 
 So thy sons may tell their sons, and those may teach their children, 
 He died in goodness, as he lived ; — and left us his good name. 
 • And more than these : there is a roll whereon thy name is written ; 
 See that, on the Book of Doom, that name is fixed in light : 
 Then, safe within a better home, where time and its titles are not 
 found. 
 
 ■#
 
 I 
 
 •3^ 
 
 4- 
 
 238 OF THINGS. 
 
 God will give thee his new Name, and write it on thy heart : 
 A Name, better than of sons, a Name dearer than of daughters, 
 A Name of union, peace, and praise, as numbered in thy God. 
 
 OF THINGS. 
 
 Abstracted from all substance, and flying with the feathered 
 
 flock of thoughts, 
 The idea of a thing hath the nature of its Soul, a separate seeming 
 
 essence : 
 Intimately linked to the idea, suggesting many qualities, 
 The name of a thing hath the nature of its Mind, an intellectual 
 
 recorder : 
 And the matter of a thing, concrete, is a Body to the perfect crea- 
 ture, 
 Compacted three in one, as all things else within the universe. 
 Nothing canst thou add to them, and nothing take away, for all 
 
 have these proportions, 
 The thought, the word, the form, combining in the Thing : 
 All separate, yet harmonizing well, and mingled each with other, 
 One whole in several parts, yet each part spreading to a whole : 
 The idea is a whole ; and the meaning phrase that spake idea, a 
 
 whole ; 
 And the matter, as ye see it, is a whole ; the mystery of true tri- 
 
 unity : 
 Yea, there is even a deeper mystery, — which none, I wot, can 
 
 fathom, 
 Matter, different from properties whereby the solid substance is 
 
 described ; 
 For, size and weight, cohesion and the like, live distinct from 
 
 matter. 
 Vet who can imagine matter, unendowed with size and weight ? 
 As in the spiritual, so in the material, man must rest with patience. 
 And wait for other eyes wherewith to read the books of God. 
 
 Men have talked learnedly of atoms, as if matter could be ever 
 
 indivisible \ 
 They talk, but ill are skilled to teach, and darken truth by fancies: 
 An atom by our grosser sense was never yet conceived, 
 And nothing can be thought so small, as not to be divided :
 
 OF THTNGS. 239 
 
 For an atom runneth to infinity, and never shall be caught in space, 
 
 \ncl a molecule is no more indivisible than Saturn's belted orb. 
 
 Things intangible, multiplied by multitudes, never will amass to 
 substance, 
 
 Neither can a thing which may be touched, be made of impalpable 
 proportions ; 
 
 The sum of indivisibles must need be indivisible, as adding many 
 nothings, 
 
 And the building up of atoms into matter is but a silly sophism ; 
 
 Luci"etius, and keen Anaximander, and many that have follo\\'cd 
 in their thoughts, 
 
 (For error hath a long black shadow, dimming light for ages,) 
 
 In the foolishness of men without a God fancied to fashion Matter 
 
 Of intangibles, and therefore uncohering, indivisibles, and there- 
 fore Spirit. 
 
 Things breed thoughts ; therefore at Thebes and Heliopolis, 
 In hieroglyphic sculptures are the priestly secrets written ; 
 Things breed thoughts ; therefore was the Athens of idolatry 
 Set with carved images, frequent as the trees of Academus : 
 Things breed thoughts ; therefore the Brahmin and the Burman 
 With mythologic shapes adorn their coarse pantheon : 
 Things breed thoughts ; therefore the statue and the picture, 
 Relics, rosaries, and miracles in act, quicken the Papist in his 
 
 worship : 
 Things breed thoughts ; therefore the lovers at their parting. 
 Interchanged with tearful smiles the dear reminding tokens : 
 Things breed thoughts ; therefore when the clansman met his foe, 
 The blood-stained claymore in his hand revived the memories of 
 
 vengeance. 
 
 Things teach with double force ; through the animal eye, and 
 
 through the mind, 
 And the eye catcheth in an instant, what the ear shall not learn 
 
 within an hour. 
 Thence is the potency of travel, the precious might of its advantages 
 To compensate its dissipative harm, its toil and cost and danger. 
 Ulysses, wandering to many shores, lived in many cities. 
 And thereby learnt the minds of men, and stored his own more 
 
 richly : 
 Herodotus, the accurate and kindly, spake of that he saw, 
 
 +
 
 240 OF FAITH. 
 
 And reaped his knowledire on the spot, in fertile fields of Egypt : 
 
 Lycurgus culled from every clime the golden fruits of justice ; 
 
 And Plato roamed through foreign lands, to feed on truth in all. 
 
 For travel, conv rsant with Things, bringeth them in contact with 
 the mind ; 
 
 We breathe the wholesome atmosphere about ungarbled truth : 
 
 Pictures of fact are painted on the eye, to decorate the house of 
 mtellect. 
 
 Rather than visions of fancy, filling all the chambers with a vapour. 
 
 For, in Ideas, the great mind will exaggerate, and the lesser ex- 
 tenuate truth ; 
 
 But in Things the one is chastened, and the other quickened, to 
 equality : 
 
 And in Names, — though a property be told, rather than some 
 arbitrary accident, 
 
 Still shall the thought be vague or false, if none have seen the 
 Thing : 
 
 For in Things the property with accident standeth in a mass con- 
 crete, 
 . These cannot cheat the sense, nor elude the vigilance of spirit. 
 
 Travel is a ceaseless fount of sm^face education, 
 
 But its wisdom will be simply superficial, if thou add not thoughts 
 to things : 
 
 Yet, aided by the varnish of society, things may serve for thoughts. 
 
 Till many dullards that have seen the woxXA shall pass for scholars : 
 
 Because one single glance will conquer all descriptions, 
 
 Phough graphic, these left some unsaid, though true, these tended 
 to some error ; 
 
 And the most witless eye that saw, had a juster notion of its object, 
 
 Than the shrewdest mind that heard and shaped its gathered 
 thoughts of Things. 
 
 #■ 
 
 OF FAITH. 
 
 CoNFiDEN'CE was bearer of the palm ; for it looked like conviction 
 
 of desert : 
 And where the strong is well assured, the weaker soon allow it. 
 Majesty and Beauty are commingled, in moving with immutable 
 
 decision. 
 And well may charm the toward hearts that turn and hide for fear. 
 
 -^
 
 OF FA /TIL 241 
 
 ■^ 
 
 Faitb, firmness, confidence, consistency, — Uiese are well aHIed; \ 
 
 Yea, let a man pte.s.s on in aught, he shall not lack of lioiiour : 
 
 For such an one seemeth as superior to the native instability ol , 
 
 creatures ; f 
 
 That he doeth, he doeth as a god, and men will mnrvel at his 
 
 courage. j 
 
 Even in crimes, a partial praise cannot be denied to daring, « 
 
 A.nd many fearless chiefs have won the friendship of a foe. 
 
 . i 
 
 (,'onfidence is conqueror of men ; victorious both over them and m 
 
 them ; 
 The iron will of one stout heart shall make a thousand quail : 
 A feeble dwarf, dauntlessly resolved, will turn the tide of battle, 
 And rally to a nrbler stiife the giants that had fled ; 
 T!ie tenderest child, unconscious of a fear, will shame the mm to 
 
 danger. 
 And when he dared it, danger died, and faith had vanquished fear. 
 Boldness is akin to power : yea, because ignorance is weakness. 
 Knowledge with unshrinking might will nerve the vigorous hand ; 
 Boldness hath a startling strength ; the mouse may fright a Ton, 
 And oftentimes the horned herd is scared by some brave cur. 
 Courage hath analogy with faith, for it standeth both in anima\ 
 
 and moral ; 
 The true is mindful of a God, the false is stout in self: 
 But true or false, the twain are faith ; and faith worketh winders ; 
 Never was a marvel done upon the earth, but it had sprung of faith.; 
 Nothing noble, generous, or great, but faith was the root of the 
 
 achievement ; { 
 
 Nothing comely, nothing famous, but its praise is faith. | 
 
 Leonidas fought in human faith, as Joshua in divine : 
 
 Xenophon trusted to his skill, and the sons of Mattathias to their \ 
 
 \ 
 cause : » 
 
 In failh Columbus found a path across those untried waters; \ 
 
 The heroines of Arc and Saragossa fought in earthly faith : 
 
 Tell was strong, and Alfred great, and Luther wise, by faith : 
 
 Margaret by faith was valiant for her son, and Wallace mighty for 
 
 his people : 
 Faith in his reason made Socrates sublime, as faith in his science, 
 
 Galileo ; 
 Ambassadors in faith are bold, and unreproved lor boldness : 
 Faith urged Fabius to delays, and sent forth Hannibal to Canna^   
 Q 
 
 +
 
 \f 
 
 24i OF FAITH, 
 
 C:«sar at the Rubicon, Miltiades at Marathon ; both were sped !:■>• 
 
 faith. 
 I set not all in equal spheres : I number not the martyr with the 
 
 patriot ; 
 I class not the hero with his horse, because the twain have courage \ 
 But only for ensample and instruction, that all things stand by faith ; 
 Albeit faith of divers kinds, and varying in degree. 
 There is a faith towards men, and there is a faith towards God ; 
 The latter is the gold and the former is the brass ; but both are 
 
 sturdy metal : 
 .\nd the brass mingled with the gold floweth into rich Corinthian ; 
 A substance bright and hard and keen, to point Achilles' spear : 
 So shalt thou stop tlie way against the foes that hem thee \ 
 Trust in God to strengthen man ;— be bold, for He doth help. 
 
 Yet more ; for confidence in man, even to the worst and meanest, 
 Hath power to overcome his ill, by charitable good. 
 Fling thine unreserving trust even on the conscience of a culprit. 
 Soon wilt thou shame him by thy faith, and he will rnelt and mend : 
 The nest of thieves will harm thee not, if thou dost bear thee 
 
 boldly ; 
 Boldly, yea and kindly, as relying on their honour : 
 For the hand so stout against aggression, is quite disarm.cd by 
 
 charity ; 
 And that warm sun will thaw the heart case-hardened by long frost. 
 Treat men gently, trust them strongly, if thou wish their weal ; 
 Or cautious doubt and bitter thoughts will tempt the best to foil 
 
 thee. 
 Believe the well in sanguine hope, and thou shalt reap the better ; 
 But if thou deal with men so ill, thy dealings make them worse. 
 Despair not of some gleams of good still lingering in the darkest. 
 And among veterans in crime, plead thou as with their children : 
 So, astonied at humanities, the bad heart long estranged, 
 Shall even weep to feel himself so little woith thy love ; 
 In wholesome sorrow will he bless thee ; yea, and in that spirit 
 
 may repent ; 
 Thus wilt thou gain a soul, In mercy given to thy fai.'li.. 
 
 Look aside to lack of faith, the mass of ills it bringeth : 
 All things treacherous, base, and vile, dissolving the brotherhood 
 of men
 
 OF FAITH. 243 
 
 Bonds break ; the cement liath lost its hold ; and each is separate 
 
 from other ; 
 That which should be neighbourly and good, is cankered into 
 
 bitterness and evil. 
 O thou serpent, fell Suspicion, coiling coldly round the heart, — 
 O thou asp of subtle Jealousy, stinging hotly to the soul, — 
 O distrust, reserve, and doubt, — what reptile shapes are here, 
 Poisoning the garden of a world with death among its flowers ! 
 No need of many words, the tale is easy to be told ; 
 A point will touch the truth, a line suggest the picture. 
 For if, in thine own home, a cautious man and captious, 
 Thou hintest at suspicion of a servantj thou soon wilt make a 
 
 thief; 
 Or if, too keen in care, thou dost evidently disbelieve thy child, 
 Thoa hast injured the texture of his honour, and smoothed to him 
 
 the way of lying ; 
 Or if thoa observest upon friends, as seeking thee selfishly for 
 
 interest, 
 Thou hast hurt their kindliness to thee, and shalt be paid witli 
 
 scorn : 
 Or if, C silly ones of Marriage, your foul and foolish thoughts, 
 Harshly misinterpreting in each the levity of innocence for sin, 
 Shall pour upon the lap of home pain where once was pleasure, 
 And mix contentions in the cup, that mantled once with comforts, 
 Bitterly and justly shall ye rue the punishment due to unbelief; 
 Ye trust not each the other, nor the mutual vows of God ; 
 Take heed, for the pit may now be near, a pit of your own 
 
 digging,— 
 Faith abused tempteth unto crime, and doubt may make its 
 
 monster, 
 
 Man verily is vile, but more in capability than action ; 
 
 His sinfulness is deep, but his transgressions may be few, even 
 
 from the absence of temptation : 
 He is hanging in a gulph midway, but the air is breathable about 
 
 him : 
 Thrust him not from that slight hold, to peiish in the vapours 
 
 underneath. 
 For, God pleadeth with the deaf, as having ears to hear, 
 Christ speaketh to the dead, as those that are capable of living ; 
 And an evil teacher is that man, a tempter to much sin. 
 
 
 ^
 
 OF FAITH. 
 
 H 
 
 ^ 
 
 \Vlio looketh on his hearers with distrust, and hath no confidence 
 
 in brethren. 
 All may mend ; and sympathies are healing : and reason hath its 
 
 influence with the worst ; 
 And in those worst is ample hope, if only thou hast charity, and 
 
 faith. 
 
 Somewhiles have T watclied a man exchanging the sobriety of 
 
 faith, 
 Old lamps for new, — even for fanatical excitements. 
 He gained surface, but lost solidity ; heat, in lieu of health ; 
 And still with swelling words and thoughts he scorned his ancient 
 
 coldness : 
 But, his strength was shorn as Samson's ; he walked he knew noi 
 
 whither ; 
 Doubt was on his daily path ; and duties showed not certain. 
 Until, in an hour of enthusiasm, stung with secret fears, 
 He pinned the safety of his soul on some false prophet's sleeve : 
 And then, that sure word failed ; and with it, failed his faith ; 
 It failed, and fell ; O deep and dreadful was his fall in faith ! 
 He could not stop, with reason's rein, his coursers on the slope, 
 And so they dashed him down the cliff of hardened unbelief. 
 With overreaching grasp he had strained for visionary treasures, 
 But a fiend had cheated his presumption, and hurled him (o 
 
 despair. 
 So he lay in his blood, the victim of a credulous false faith. 
 And many nights, and night-like days, he dwelt in outer darkness. 
 But, within a while, his variable mind caught a new impression, 
 A new impression of the good old stamp, that sealed him when a 
 
 child : 
 He was softened, and abjured his infidelity ; he was wiser^ and 
 
 despised his credulity ; 
 And turned again to simple faith more simply tlian before. 
 Experience had declared too well his mind was built of water, 
 And so, renouncing strength in self, he fixed his faith in God. 
 
 It is not for me to stipulate for creeds ; Bible, Church, and Reason, 
 
 These three shall lead the mind, if any can, to truth. 
 
 But I must stipulate for faith ; both God and man demand it : 
 
 Trust is great in either world, if any would be well. 
 
 Verily, the sceptical propensity is an universal foe ;
 
 OF FAITH. 245 
 
 Sneering Pyn-ho never found, nor cared to fmd, a friend : 
 
 How couid lie trust anotlier? and himself, whom would he not 
 
 deceive ? 
 His proper gains were all his aim, and interests clash with kind- 
 ness. 
 So, the Bedouin goeth armed, an enemy to all, 
 Ihe spear is stuck beside his couch, the dagger hid beneath his 
 
 pillow. 
 For society, void of mutual trust, of credit, and of faith. 
 Would fall asunder as a waterspout, snapped from the cloud's 
 
 attraction. 
 P'aith may rise into miracles of might, as some few wise have 
 
 shown : 
 Faith may sink into credulities of weakness, as the mass of fools 
 
 have witnessed. 
 Therefore, in the first, saints and martyrs have fulfilled their 
 
 mission, 
 Conquering dangers, courting deaths, and triumphing in all. 
 Therefore, in the last, the magician and the witch, victims of their 
 
 own delusion. 
 Have gained the bitter wages of impracticable sins : 
 They believed in allegiance with Satan ; they worked in that 
 
 belief, 
 And thereby earned the loss and harm of guilt that might not be. 
 For, faith hath two hands ; with the one it addcth virtue to indif- 
 
 ferents ; 
 Vea, it sanctified a Judith and a Jael, for what otherwise were 
 
 treachery and murder : 
 With the other hand it heapeth crime even on impossibles or 
 
 simples, 
 And many a wizard well deserved the faggot foi his faith : 
 He trusted in his intercourse with evil, he sac.'ificed heartily to 
 
 fiends. 
 He withei-ed up with curses to the limit of his wnl, and was vile, 
 
 because he thought himself a villain. 
 
 A great mind is ready to believe, for he hungereth to feed on facts, 
 And the gnawing stomach of his ignorance craveth unceasing to be 
 
 filled : 
 A little mind is boastful and incredulous, for he fancieth all know- 
 ledge is his own, 
 
 ^
 
 ^ 
 
 246 OF FAITH. 
 
 So will he cavil at a truth ; how should it l)e true, and he nul 
 
 know it ? — 
 There is an easy scheme, to solve all riddles by the sensual. 
 And thus, despising mysteries, to feel the more sufficient : 
 For it comforteth the foul hard lieart, to reject the pure unseen, 
 And relieveth the dull soft head, to hinder one from gazing upon 
 
 vacancy. 
 True wisdom, labouring to expound, heareth others readily ; 
 False wisdom, sturdy to deny, closeth up her mind to argument. 
 The sum of certainties is found so small, their field so wide an 
 
 universe. 
 That many things may truly be, which man liath not conceived : 
 The characters revealed of God are a strong mind's sole assurance 
 That any strangeness may not stand a sober theme for faith : 
 Ignorance being light denied, this ought to show the stronger in 
 
 its view, 
 But ignorance is commonly a double negative, both of light and 
 
 morals : 
 So, adding vanity to blindness, for ease, it taketh refuge in a doui)l. 
 And aching soon with ceaseless doubt, it finisheth the strife by 
 
 misbelieving. 
 
 Faith, by its very nature, shall embrace both credence and obedience-, 
 
 Yea, the word for both is one, and cannot be divided. 
 
 For, work void of faith, wherein can it be counted for a duty ; 
 
 And faith not seen in work, — whereby can the doctrine be dis- 
 covered ? 
 
 Faith in religion is an instrument ; a handle, and the hand to turn it : 
 
 Less a condition than a mean, and more an operation than a virtue. 
 
 A moral sickness, like to sin, must have a moral cure ; 
 
 And faith alone can heal the mind, whose malady is sense. 
 
 Ye are told of God's deep love : they that believe will love him : 
 
 They that love him, will obey : and obedience hath its blessing. 
 
 Ye are taught of the soul's great price ; they that believe -will 
 prize it. 
 
 And, prizing soul, will cherish well the hopes that make it happy. 
 
 Effects spring from feelings ; and feelings grow of faith : 
 
 If a man conceive himself insulted, will not his anger smite? 
 
 Thus, let a soul believe his state, his danger, destiny, redemption. 
 
 Will he not feel eager to be safe, like him that kept the prison at 
 rhilippi ?
 
 OF HONES Tl. 247 
 
 A mother had an only son, and sent him out to sea : 
 
 She was a widow, and in penury ; and he must seek his fortunes. 
 
 How often in the wintry nights, when waves and winds were 
 
 howhng, 
 Iler heart was torn with sickening dread, and bled to see her boy. 
 And on one sunny morn, M-hen all around was comfort, 
 News came, that weeks agone, the vessel had been wrecked ; 
 Yea, wrecked, and he was dead ! they had seen him perish in hisagony : 
 Oh then, what agony was like to her's, — for she believed the tale. 
 She was bowed and broken down with sorrow, and uncomforted in 
 
 prayer ; 
 l\Iany niglits she mourned, and pined, and had no hope but death. 
 But on a day, while sorely she was weeping, a stranger broke upon 
 
 her loneliness, 
 He had news to tell, that weather-beaten man, and must not be 
 
 denied : 
 And what were the wonder-working words that made this mourner 
 
 joyous, 
 That swept her heaviness away, and filled her world with praise ? 
 Her son was saved,— is alive, — is near I — O did she stop to question ? 
 No, rushing in the force of faith, she met him at the door ! 
 
 -^ 
 
 ¥ 
 
 OF HONESTY. 
 
 All is vanity which is not honesty ; — thus is it graven on the tomb : 
 And there is no wisdom but in piety ; — so the dead man preacheth : 
 For, in a simple village church, among those classic shades 
 Which sylvan Evelyn loved to rear, (his praise, and my delight,) 
 These, the words of truth, are writ upon his sepulchre, 
 Who learnt much lore, and knew all trees, from the cedar to the 
 
 hyssop on the wall ; 
 A just conjunction, godliness and honesty ; ministering to I)oth 
 
 worlds, 
 Well wed, and ill to be divided, a pair that God hath joined together. 
 I touch not now the vulgar thought, as of tricks and cheateries in 
 
 trade ; 
 I speak of honest purpose, character, speech and action. 
 For an honest man hath special need of charity, and prudence. 
 Of a deep and humbling self-acquaintance, and of blessed commerce 
 
 with his God,
 
 248 OF HONESTY. 
 
 So that the kecnneises of truth may be freed from asperities of 
 
 censure, 
 And the just but vacillating mind be not made the penduhmi of 
 
 arguments : 
 P'or a false reason, shrewdly put, can often not be answered on the 
 
 instant. 
 And prudence looketh unto faith, content to wait solutions ; 
 Yea, it looketh, yea, it waiteth, still holding honesty in leash, 
 Lest, as a hot young hound, it track not game, but vermin. 
 Many a man of honest heart, but ignorant of self and God, 
 Hath followed the marsh-fires of pestilence, esteeming them the 
 
 lights of truth ; 
 He heard a cause, which he had not skill to solve, — and so received 
 
 it gladly ; 
 And that cause brought its consequence, harm to an unstable soul. 
 Prudence, for a man's own sake, never should be separate from 
 
 honesty ; 
 And charity, for other's good and his, must still be joined there- 
 with : 
 for the harshly chiding tongue hath neither pleasuring nor profit, 
 And the cold unsympathizing heart never gained a good. 
 Sin is a sore, and folly is a fever ; touch them tenderly for healing ; 
 The bad chirurgeon's awkward knife harmeth, spite of honesty. 
 Still, a rough diamond is better than the polished paste, — 
 That courteous flattering fool, who spake of vice as virtue : 
 And honesty, even by itself, though making many adversaries 
 Whom prudence might have set aside, or charity have softened, 
 Evermore will prosper at the last, and gain a man great honour 
 By giving others many goods, to his own cost and hindrance. 
 
 Freedom is father of the honest, and sturdy Independence is his 
 brother ; 
 
 These three, with heai and hand, dwell together in unity. 
 
 The blunt yeoman, stout and true, will speak unto princes un- 
 abashed : 
 
 His mind is loyal, just and free, a crystal in its plain integrity ; 
 
 ^Vhat should make such ar one ashamed ? where courtiers kneel, 
 he standeth ; — 
 
 I will indeed bow before the king, but knees were kmi for God. 
 
 And many, such there be, of a high and noble conscience. 
 
 Honourable, generout, and kind, though blest with little light :
 
 OF HONESTY. 249 
 
 What should he barter for his Freedom ? some petty gain of gold ? 
 Free of speech, and free in act, magnates honour him for boldness : 
 Long may he flourish in his peace, and a stalwarth race around him, 
 Rooted in the soil like oaks, and hardy as the pine upon the moun- 
 tains ! 
 
 Vet, there be others, that will truckle to a lie, selling honesty for 
 
 interest ; 
 And do they gain? — they gain but loss ; a little casli, with scorn. 
 Behold, the sorrowful change wrought upon a fallen nature : 
 He hath lost his own esteem, and other men's respect , 
 For the buoyancy of upright faith, he is clothed in the heaviness of 
 
 cringing ; 
 For plain truth where none could err, he hath chosen tortuous 
 
 paths ; 
 In lieu of his majesty of countenance — the timorous glances of 
 
 servility ; 
 Instead of Freedom's honest pride, — the spirit of a slave. 
 
 Nevertheless, there is something to be pleaded, even for a necessary 
 
 guile. 
 Whilst the world, and all that is therein, lieth deep in evil. 
 Who can be altogether honest, — a champion never out of mail, 
 Ready to break a lance for truth with every crowding error ? 
 Who can be altogether honest, — dragging out the secresies of life. 
 And risking to be lashed and loathed for each unkind disclosure ? 
 Who can be altogether honest, — living in perpetual contentions, 
 And prying out the petty cheats that swell the social scheme ? 
 For he must speak his instant mind, — a mind corrupt and sinful, 
 Exhibiting to other men's disgust its undisguised deformities : 
 He must utter all the hatred of his heart, and add to it the venom 
 
 of his tongue ; 
 Shall he feel, and hide his feelings? that were the meanness of a 
 
 hypocrite. — 
 Still, O man, such hypocrisy is better, than this bold honesty to sin ; 
 Kill the feeling, or conceal it : let shame at least do the work of 
 
 charity. 
 
 O charity, thou livest not in warnings, meddling among men, 
 Rebuking every foolish word, aud censuring small sins ; 
 This is not thy secret, — rather wilt thou hide their multitude, 
 
 •A
 
 ^- 
 
 250 OF HONESTY. 
 
 And silence the condemning tongue, and vveailson-ie exhortation. 
 But for thee, tliy strength and zeal shine in encouragement to good, 
 Lifting up the lantern of ensample, that wanderers may find the 
 
 way ; 
 That lantern is not lit to gaze on all the hatefulness of evil, 
 But set on high for life and light, the loveliness of good. 
 The hard censorious mind sitteth as a keen anatomist 
 Tracking up the fibres in corruption, and prying on a fearful corpse : 
 But the charitable soul is a young lover, enamoured little wisely, 
 That saw no fault in her he loved, and sought to see one less ; 
 So, in his kind and genial light, she grew more worthy of his love ; 
 ■\Von to good by gentle suns, and not by frowning tempest. 
 
 Verily infirm thyself, — be slow to chide a brother's imperfections ; 
 For many times the decent veil must hang on faults of nature : 
 And the rude hands, that rend it offend against the modesty of right, 
 While seeming zeal, mth its effort to do good, is only feigned self- 
 praise : 
 Often will the meannesses of life, hidden away in corners, 
 Prove wisdom ; and the generous is glad to leave them unregarded 
 
 in the shade. 
 The follies none are found to praise, let them die unblamed ; 
 Thine honest strife will only tend to make some think them wise : 
 And small conventional deceits, let them live uncensured : 
 Or, if thou war with pigmies, thou shalt haply help the cranes. 
 Where to be blind was safety, Ovid had been wise for winking : 
 And when a tell-tale might do harm, be sure it is prudent to be 
 
 dumb ; 
 That which is just and fit is often found combating with honesty ; 
 In the cause of good, be wise ; and in a case indifferent, keep 
 silence. 
 
 Let honesty's unblushing face be shaded by the mantle of humility, 
 So shall it shine a lamp of love, and not the torch of strife : 
 Otherwise the lantern of Diogenes, presumptuously thrust before 
 
 the face, 
 If it never find an honest man, shall often make an angered. 
 Let honesty be companied by charity of heart, lest it walk unwel- 
 come ; 
 Or the mouthing cen^;or of others and himself, soon shall sink to 
 scorn :
 
 OF HOXESTY. 251 
 
 Let honesty be added unto innocence of life : then a man may 
 
 only be its martyr ; 
 But if openness of speech be found with secresy of guilt, the martyr 
 
 will be seen a malefactor. 
 
 There is a cunning scheme, to put on surface bluntness, 
 
 And cover still deep water, with the clamorous ripples of a shallow. 
 
 For a man, to gain his selfish ends, will make a stalking-horse of 
 
 honesty ; 
 And hide his poaching limbs behind, that he may cheat the 
 
 quicker. 
 Such an one is loud and ostentatious, full of oaths for argument, 
 Boastful of honour and sincerity, and not to be put down by facts : 
 He is obstinate, and showeth it for firmness ; he is rude, display- 
 ing it for truth ; 
 And glorieth in doggedness of temper, as if it were uncompro- 
 mising justice. 
 Be aware of such a man ; his braM'ling covereth designs ; 
 This specious show of honesty cometh as the herald of a thief : 
 His feint is made with awkward clashing on the buckler's boss, 
 But meanwhile doth his secret skill ensure its fatal aim. 
 This is the hypocrite of honesty ; ye may know him by an over- 
 acted part ; 
 Taking pains to turn and twist, where other men walk straight ; 
 Or walking straight, he will not step aside to let another pass, 
 But roughly pusheth on, provoking opposition on the way ; 
 He is full of disquietude for calmness, full of intriguing for simplicity, 
 Valorous with those who cannot fight, and humble to the brave : 
 Where brotherly advice were good, this man rudely blameth, 
 And on some small occasion, flattereth with coarse praise. 
 The craven in a lion's skin hath conquered by his character for 
 
 courage ; 
 Sheep's clothing helped the wolf, till he slew by his character for 
 kindness. 
 
 For honesty hath many gains, and well the wise have known 
 This will prosper at the end, and fill their house with gold. 
 The phosphorus of cheatery will fade, and all its profits perisli. 
 While honesty with growing light endureth as the moon. 
 Yea, it would be wise in a world of thieves, where cheating were 
 a virtue. 
 
 ■^
 
 252 OF SOCIETY. 
 
 To dare the vice of honesty, if any would be rich : 
 For that which by the laws of God is heightened into duty, 
 Ever, m the practice of a man, will be seen both policy and privi- 
 lege. 
 Thank God, ye toilers for your bread, in that, daily labouring, 
 He hath suffered the bubbles of self-interest to float upon the 
 
 stream of duty : 
 For honesty, of evei^ kind, approved by God and man, 
 Of wealth and better weal is found the richest cornucopia. 
 Tempered by humbleness and charity, honesty of speech hatli 
 
 honour ; 
 And mingled well with prudence, honesty of purpose hath its 
 
 praise : 
 Trust payeth homage unto truth, rewarding honesty of action : 
 And all men love to lean on him, who never failed nor fainted. 
 Freedom gloweth in his eyes, and Nobleness of nature at his heart. 
 And Independence took a crown and fixed it on his head ; 
 So, he stood in his integrity, just and firm of purpose, 
 Aiding many, fearing none, a spectacle to angels and to men ; 
 Yea, — when the shattered globe shall rock in the throes of dissolu- 
 tion. 
 Still, will he stand in his integrity, sublime — an honest man. 
 
 *" 
 
 OF SOCIETY. 
 
 Better is the mass of men, Suspicion, than thy fears. 
 
 Kinder than thy thoughts, O chilling heart of Prudence, 
 
 Purer than thy judgments, ascetic tongue of Censure, 
 
 In all things worthier to love, if not also wiser to esteem ; 
 
 Yea, let the moralist condemn, there be large extenuations of his 
 
 verdict. 
 Let the misanthrope shun men and abjure, the most are rather 
 
 loveable than hateful. 
 Ilow many pleasant faces shed their light on every side, 
 II ow many angels unawares have crossed thy casual way ! 
 How often, in thy journeyings, hast thou made thee instant friends, 
 Found, to be loved a little while, and lost, to meet no more ; 
 Friends of happy reminiscence, although so transient in their con- 
 verse. 

 
 -^ 
 
 OF SOCIETY. 
 
 253 
 
 Liberal, cheerful, and sincere, a crowd of kindly traits. 
 I have sped by land and sea, and mingled with much people, 
 But never yet could find a spot, unsunned by human kindness j 
 Some more, and some less, — but truly all can claim a little ; 
 And a man may travel through the world, and sow it thick with 
 friendships. 
 
 There be indeed, to say it in all sorrow, bad apostate souls, 
 Deserted of their ministering angels, and given up to liberty of 
 
 sin, — 
 And other some, the miserly and mean, -whose eyes are keen and 
 
 greedy, 
 With stony hearts, and iron fists, to filch and scrape and clutch, — 
 And others yet again, the coarse in mind, selfish, sensual, brutish. 
 Seeming as incapable of softer thoughts, and dead to better 
 
 deeds, — 
 Such, no lover of the good, no follower of the generous and gentle, 
 Can nearer grow to love, than may consist with pity. 
 Few verily are these among the mass, and cast in fouler moulds. 
 Few and poor in friends, and well deserving of their poverty : 
 Yet, or ever thou hast harshly judged, and linked their presence to 
 
 disgust. 
 Consider well the thousand things that made them all they are. 
 Thou hast not thought upon the causes, ranged in consecutive ne- 
 cessity. 
 Which tended long to these effects, with sure constraining power : 
 For each of those unlovely ones, if thou couldst hear his story, 
 Hath much to urge of just excuse, at least as men count justice : 
 Foolish education, thwarted opportunities, natural propensities 
 
 unchecked, — 
 Thus were they discouraged from all good, and pampered in their 
 
 evil ; 
 And, if thou ^^■ilt apprehend them well, tenderly looking on temp- 
 tations. 
 Bearing the base indulgently, and liberally dealing with the fro- 
 
 ward, 
 Thou shalt discern a few fair fruits even upon trees so withered, 
 Thou shalt understand how some may praise, and some be found 
 to love them. 
 
 Nevertheless for these, mv counsel is. Avoid them if thou canst ; 
 
 1;.
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 254 OF SOCIETY. 
 
 For the finer edges of thy virtues will be dulled by attrition with 
 
 their vice. 
 And there is an enemy within thee ; either to palliate their sin, 
 Until, for surface-sweetness, thou too art drawn adown the vortex ; 
 Or, even unto fatal pride, to glorify thy purity by contrast, 
 Until the publican and harlot stand nearer heaven than the Phari- 
 see : 
 Or daily strife against their ill, in subtleness may irritate thy soul. 
 And in that struggle thou shalt fail, even through infirmity of 
 
 goodness ; 
 Or, callous by continuance of injuries, thou wilt cease to pardon. 
 Cease to feel, and cease to care, a cold case-hardened man. 
 Beware of their example, — and thine own ; beware the hazards of 
 
 the battle ; 
 But chiefly be thou ware of this, an unforgiving spirit. 
 Many are the dangers and temptations compassing a bad .•nan's 
 
 presence ; 
 The upas hath a poisonous shade, and who would slumber there? 
 Wherefore, avoid them if thou canst ; only, under providence and 
 
 duty, 
 If thy lot be cast with Kedar, patiently and silently live to their 
 
 rebuke. 
 
 How beautiful thy feet, and full of grace thy coming, 
 O better kind companion, that art well for either world ! 
 There is an atmosphere of happiness floating round that man, 
 I.ove is throned upon his heart, and light is found within his 
 
 dwelling : 
 His eyes are rayed with peacefulness, and wisdom waiteth on his 
 
 tongue ; 
 Seek him out, cherish him well, walking in the halo of his in- 
 fluence : 
 For he shall be fragrance to thy soul, as a garden of sweet lilies, 
 Hedged and apart from the outer world, an island of the blest 
 among the seas. 
 
 There is an outer world, and there is an inner centre ; 
 And many varying rings concentric round the self: 
 For, first, about a man, — after his communion with heaven, — 
 Is found the helpmate even as himself, the wife of his vows and 
 his affections :
 
 OF SOCFETY. 255 
 
 See then that ye love in faith, scorning petty jealousies, 
 
 For Satan spoileth too much love, by souring it with doubts ; 
 
 See that intimacy die not to indifference, nor anxiety sink into 
 
 moroseness 
 And tend ye well the mutual minds bound in a copartnership for 
 
 life. 
 
 Next of those concentric circles, radiating \videly in circumference. 
 Wheel in wheel, and world in world, — come the band of children : 
 A tender nest of soft young hearts, each to be separately studied, 
 A curious eager flock of minds, to be severally tamed and tutored. 
 And a man, blest with these, hath made his own society. 
 He is independent of the world, hanging on his friends more 
 
 loosely : 
 For the little faces round his hearth are friends enow for him, 
 If he seek others, it is for sake of these, and less for his own plea- 
 sure. 
 What companionship so sweet, yea, who can teach so well 
 As these pure budding intellects, and bright unsullied hearts? 
 ^Vhat voice so musical as theirs, what visions of elegance so comely, 
 What thoughts and hopes and holy prayers, can others cause like 
 
 these ? 
 If ye count society for pastime, — what happier recreation than a 
 
 nurseling. 
 Its winning ways, its prattling tongue, its innocence and mirth ? 
 If ye count society for good, — how fair a field is here, 
 To guide these souls to God, and multiply thyself for heaven ! 
 
 And this sweet social commerce with thy children groweth as their 
 
 growtli, 
 Unless thou fail of duty, or have weaned them by thine absence. 
 Keep them near thee, rear them well, guide, correct, instruct them ; 
 And be the playmate of their games, the judge in their com- 
 plainings. 
 So shall the maiden and the youth love thee as their sympathizing 
 
 friend, 
 And bring their joys to share with thee, their sorrows for consoling : 
 Yea, their inmost hopes shall yearn to thee for counsel, 
 They will not hide their very loves, if thou hast won their trust : 
 But, even as man and woman, shall they gladly seek tlieir father, 
 Feeling yet as children feel, though void of fear in honour : 
 
 •^
 
 i>L 
 
 256 OF SOCIETY. 
 
 And thou slialt 1)C a Nestor in the camp, the just and good oid 
 man, 
 
 Hearty still, though full of years, and held the friend of all ; 
 
 No secret shall be kept from thee ; for if ill, thy wisdom may re- 
 pair it ; 
 
 If well, thy praise is precious : and they would not miss that prize. 
 
 O the blessing of a home, where old and young mix kindly, 
 
 The young unawed, the old unchilled, in unreserved communion I 
 
 that refuge from the world, when a stricken son or daughter 
 M^y seek, with confidence of love, a father's hearth and heart ; 
 Sure of a welcome, though others cast them out ; of kindness, 
 
 though men scorn them ; 
 And finding there the last to blame, the earliest to commend. 
 Come unto me, my son, if sin shall have tempted thee astray, 
 
 1 will not chide thee like the rest, but help thee to return ; 
 Come unto me, my son, if men rebuke and mock thee, 
 There always shall be one to bless, — for I am on thy side ! 
 
 Alas, — and bitter is their loss, the parents, and the children. 
 Who, loving up and down the world, have missed each other's 
 
 friendship. 
 Haply, it had grown of careless life, for years go swiftly by ; 
 Or sprang of too much carefulness, that drank up all the streams : 
 Haply, sullen disappointment came and quenched the fire ; 
 Haply, sternness, or misrule, crushed or warped the feelings. 
 Then, ill-combined in tempers, they learnt not each the other ; 
 The growing child grew out of love, and drew the breath of fear ; 
 The youth, ill-trained, renounced his fears, and made a league with. 
 
 'cunning ; 
 And so those hardened men were foes, that should have been chief 
 
 friends. 
 Where was the cause, the mutual cause ? O hunt it out to kill it : 
 And what the cure, the simple cure? — A mutual flash of love. 
 For dull estrangement's daily air froze up those early sympathies 
 By cold continuance in apathy, or cutting winds of censure ; 
 It was a slow process, which any fleeting hour could have melted ; 
 But every hour duly came, and passed without the sun. 
 Caution, care, and dry distrust, obscured each other's minds, 
 Till both those gardens, rich to yield, were rank with many weeds : 
 And doubt, a hidden worm, gnawed at the root of their Society, 
 They lacked of mutual confidence, and lived in mutual dread. 
 
 ^
 
 OF socinrY. 257 -T 
 
 Judge mc, many fathers ; and hearken to my counsel, many sons ; 
 
 I come with good in either hand, to reconcile contentions ; 
 
 For better friends can no man have, than those whom God hath 
 given, 
 
 And he that hath despised the gift, thought ill of that he knew not. 
 
 Be ye wiser, — (I speak unto the sons.) — and win paternal friend- 
 ships, 
 
 Cultivate their kindness, seek them out with honour, and be the 
 screening Japheth to tlieir failings : 
 
 And be ye wiser, — (I speak unto the fathers,) — gain those filial 
 comrades, 
 
 Cherish their reasonable converse, and look not with coldness on 
 your children. 
 
 For the friendship of a child is the brightest gem set upon the 
 circlet of Society, 
 
 A jewel worth a world of pains — a jewel seldom seen. 
 
 The third cycle on the waters, another of those rings upon the 
 
 onyx, 
 A further definite broad zone, holdeth kith and kin : 
 A motley band of many tribes, and under various banners ; 
 The intimate and strangers, the known and loved, or only seen for 
 
 loathing : 
 Some, dear for their deserts, shall honour and have honour of 
 
 relationship, 
 Some, despising duties, will add to it both burden and disgrace. 
 A man's nearest kin are oftentimes far other than his dearest, 
 Yet in the season of affliction those will haste to help him. 
 For, note thou this, the Providence of God hath bound up families 
 
 together, 
 To mutual aid and patient trial ; yea, those ties are strong. 
 Friends are ever dearer in thy wealth, but relations to be trusted in 
 
 thy need, 
 For these are God's appointed way, and those the choice of man : 
 There is lower warmth in kin, but smaller truth in friends. 
 The latter show more surface, and the first have more of depth. 
 Relations rally to the rescue, even in estrangement and neglect, 
 Where friends will have fled at thy defeat, even after promises and 
 
 kindness 
 For friends come and go, the whim that bound may loose them, 
 But none can dissever a relationship, and Fate hath tied the knot. 
 
 V.
 
 25? OF SOCIETY. 
 
 -H 
 
 Wide, and edged with sliadowy bounds, a distant boulevard to the 
 
 city, 
 The common crowd of social life is buzzing round about : 
 That is as the outer court, with all defences levelled, 
 Ranged around a man's own fortress, and his father's house. 
 For many friends go in and out, and praise thee, finding pasture, 
 And some are honey-comb to-day, who tui-n to gall to-morrow ; 
 And many a garrulous acquaintance with his frequent visit 
 Will spend his leisure to thy cost, selling dullness dearly : 
 For the idle call is a heavy tax, where time is counted gold, 
 And even in the day of relaxation, haply he may spare his pre- 
 sence, — 
 He found himself alone, and came to talk,— till they that hear are 
 
 tired ; 
 Let the man bethink him of an errand, that his face be not unwel- 
 come. 
 
 But many friends there be, both well and wisely greeted, 
 
 Gladly are they hailed upon the hills, and are chidden that they 
 
 come so seldom. 
 Of such are the early recollections, school friendships that have 
 
 thriven to grey hairs, 
 And veteran men are young once more, and talk of boyish pranks ; 
 And such, yet older on the list, are those who loved thy father. 
 Thy father's friend, and thine, who tendereth thee tried love : 
 Such also, many gentle hearts, whom thou hast known too lately, 
 Hastening now to learn their worth, and chary of those minutes ; 
 And such, thy faithful pastor, coming to thy home with peace ; — 
 Greet the good man heartily, — and bid thy children bless him ! 
 
 Many thoughts, many thoughts, — who can catch them all? 
 
 The best are ever swiftest winged, the duller lag behind ; 
 
 For, behold, in these vast themes, my mind is as a forest of the 
 
 West, 
 And flocking pigeons come in clouds, and bend the groaning 
 
 branches ; 
 Here for a rest, then off and away, — they have sped to other 
 
 climes, 
 And leave me to my peace once more, a holiday from thoughts. 
 I dare not lure them back, for the mighty subject of Society 
 Would tempt to many an hackneyed note in many a weary key : 
 
 •^
 
 OF SOLITUDE. 259 
 
 Sage warnings, stout achicc, experiences ever to be learned, 
 
 The foolish floatiness of vanity, and solemn trumperies of pride, — 
 
 Economy, the poor man's mint, — extravagance, the rich man's 
 
 pitfall, 
 Harmful copings with the better, and empty-headed apings of tlie 
 
 worse, 
 Circumstance and custom, sympathies, antipathies, diverse kinds 
 
 of conversation. 
 Vapid pleasures, the weariness of gaiety, the strife and bustle of 
 
 the world, 
 Home comforts, the miseries of style, the cobweb lines of etiquette. 
 The hollowness of courtesies, and substance of deceits, — idleness, 
 
 business, and pastime, — 
 The multitude of matters to be done, the when, and where, and 
 
 how, 
 And varying shades of character, to do, undo, or miss them, — 
 All these, and many more alike, thick converging fancies, 
 Flit in throngs about my theme, as honey-bees at even to their 
 
 hive. 
 Find an end, or make one : these seeds are dragon's teeth : 
 Sown thoughts grow to things, and fill that field, the world : 
 Many wise have gone before, and used the sickle well ; 
 Who can find a corner now, where none hath bound the sheaves? 
 So, other some may reap : I do but glean and gather : 
 My sorry handful hath been culled after the ripe harvest of 
 
 Society. 
 
 •w 
 
 OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 Who hath known his brother, — or found him in his freedom un- 
 
 restrained ? 
 Even he, whose hidden glance hath watched his deepest Solitude. 
 For we walk the world in domino, putting on characters and 
 
 habits, 
 And wear a social Janus mask, while others stand around : 
 I speak not of the hypocrite, nor dream of meant deceptions, 
 But of that quick unconscious change, whereof the best know most. 
 For mind hath its influence on mind ; and no man is free but when 
 
 alone ; 
 Yea, let a dog be watching thee, its eye will tend to thy restraint.
 
 26o OF SOLITUDE. 
 
 Self-possession cannot be so perfect, with another intellect beside 
 
 thee, 
 It is not as a natural result, but rather the educated produce. 
 The presence of a second spirit must control thine own, 
 And throw it off its equipoise of peace, to balance Ijy an effort. 
 The common minds of common men know of this but little ; 
 What then ? they know nothing of themselves : I speak to those 
 
 who know. 
 The consciousness that some are hearing, cometh as a care, 
 The sense that some are watching near, bindeth thee to caution ; 
 And the tree of tender nerves shrinketh as a touched mimosa, 
 Drooping like a plant in drought, with half its strength decayed. 
 There are antipathies warning from the many, and sympathies 
 
 drawing to the few. 
 But merchant-minds have crushed the first, and cannot feel the 
 
 latter : 
 Whereas to the quickened apprehension of a keen and spiritual 
 
 intellect. 
 Antipathies are galling, and sympathies oppress, and solitude is 
 
 quiet. 
 
 He that dwelleth mainly by himself, heedeth most of others, 
 
 But they that live in crowds, think chiefly of themselves. 
 
 There is indeed a selfish seeming, where the anchorite liveth alone. 
 
 But probe his thoughts, — they travel far, dreaming for ever of the 
 world : 
 
 And there is an apparent generosity, when a man mixeth freely 
 with his fellows ; 
 
 But prove his mind, by day and night, his thoughts are all of self: 
 
 The world, melting him to pleasures, or relentlessly provoking 
 him to toil. 
 
 Is full of anxious rivals, each with a difference of interest ; 
 
 So must he plan and practise for himself, even as his own best 
 friend ; 
 
 And the gay soul of dissipation never had a thought unselfish. 
 
 The hermit standeth out of strife, abiding in a contemplative calm- 
 ness ; 
 
 What shall he contemplate,— himself ? a meagre theme for musing : 
 
 He hath cast off follies, and kept aloof from cares; a man of 
 simple Wants ; 
 
 God and the soul, these are his excuse, a just excuse, for solitude : > 
 -, . — ^
 
 OF SOLITUDE. 26 
 
 r*** 
 
 I- 
 
 But he carried with him to his cell the half-dead feelings of 
 
 humanity : 
 Tliere were they rested and refreshed ; and he yearned once more 
 
 on men. 
 
 Where is the wise, or the learned, or the good, that sought not 
 
 solitude for thinking, 
 And from seclusion's secret vale brought forth his precious fruits ? 
 Forests of Aricia, your deep shade mellowed Numa's wisdom, 
 Peaceful gardens of Vaucluse, ye nourished Petrarch's love ; 
 Solitude made a Cincinnatus, ripening the hero and the patriot, 
 And taught De Stael self-knowledge, even in the damp Bastile ; 
 It fostered the piety of Jerome, matured the labours of Augustine, 
 And gave imperial Charles religion for ambition : 
 That which Scipio praised, that which Alfred practised, 
 Which fired Demosthenes to eloquence, and fed the mind of Milton, 
 Which quickened zeal, nurtured genius, found out the secret things 
 
 of science, 
 Helped repentance, shamed folly, and comforted the good with 
 
 peace, — 
 By all men just and wise, by all things pure and perfect. 
 How truly. Solitude, art thou the fostering nurse of greatness ! 
 
 Enough ; — the theme is vast ; sear me these necks of Hydra : 
 What shall drive away the thoughts flocking to this carcase? 
 Yea, — that all which man may think, hath long been said of Soli- 
 tude ; 
 For many wise have proved and preached its evils and its good : 
 I cannot add, — I will not steal ; enough, for all is spoken : 
 Yet heed thou these for practice, and discernment among men. 
 
 There are pompous talkers, solemn, oracular, and dull : 
 Track them from society to solitude ; and there ye find them fools. 
 There are light-hearted jesters, taking up with company for pas- 
 time ; 
 How speed they when alone ? — serious, wise, and thoughtful. 
 And wherefore ? both are actors, saving when in solitude. 
 There they live their tniest life, and all things show sincere : 
 But the fool by pomposity of speech striveth to be counted wise, 
 And the wise, for holiday and pleasance, playeth with the fool's 
 best bauble.
 
 u- 
 
 262 TJ7J; END. 
 
 The solemn seemer, as a rule, will be found more ignorant and 
 
 shallow 
 Than those who laugh both loud and long, content to hide their 
 
 knowledge. 
 
 For thee ; seek thou Solitude, but neither in excess, nor morosely ; 
 Seek her for her precious things, and not of thine own pride. 
 For there, separate from a crowd, the still small voice will talk 
 
 with thee. 
 Truth's whisper, heard and echoed by responding conscience ; 
 There, shalt thou gather up the ravelled skeins of feeling. 
 And mend the nets of usefulness, and rest awhile for duties ; 
 There, thou shalt hive thy lore, and eat the fruits of study. 
 For solitude delighteth well to feed on many thoughts : 
 There, as thou sittest peaceful, communing with fancy. 
 The precious poetry of life shall gild its leaden cares ; 
 There, as thou walkest by the sea, beneath the gentle stars, 
 Many kindling seeds of good will sprout within thy soul ; 
 Thou shalt weep in Solitude,— thou shalt pray in Solitude, 
 Thou shalt sing for joy of heart, and praise the grace of Solitude. 
 Pass on, pass on ! — for this is the path of wisdom : 
 God make thee prosper on the way ; I leave thee well with Soli- 
 tude. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Every beginning is shrouded in a mist, those vague ideas beyond. 
 And the traveller setteth on his journey, oppressed with many 
 
 thoughts. 
 Balancing his hopes and fears, and looking for some order in the 
 
 chaos. 
 Some secret path between the cliffs, that seem to bar his way : 
 So, he commenceth at a clue, unravelling its tangled skein, 
 And boldly speedeth on to thread the labyrinth before him. 
 Then as he gropeth in the darkness, light is attendant on his steps. 
 He walketh straight in fervent faith, and difficulties vanisli at his 
 
 presence ; 
 The very flashing of his sword scattereth those shadowy foes ; 
 Confident and sanguine of success, he goeth forth conquering and 
 
 to conquer.
 
 THE END. 263 
 
 Every middle is burdened with a weariness, — to have to go as far 
 
 again,— 
 And Diligence is sick at heart, and Enterprize footsore : 
 That which began in zeal, bursting as a fresh-dug spring, 
 Goeth on doggedly in toil, and hath no help of nature ; 
 Then, is need of moral might, to wrestle with the animal re- 
 action. 
 Still to fight, with few men left, and still though faint pursuing. 
 The middle is a marshy flat, whereon the wheels go heavily, 
 With clouds of doubt above, and ruts of discouragement below : 
 Press on, sturdy traveller, yet a league, and yet a league ! 
 While every step is binding wings on thy victorious feet. 
 
 Every end is happiness, the glorious consummation of design. 
 The perils past, the fears annulled, the journey at its close : 
 And the traveller resteth in complacency, home-returned at last : 
 Work done may claim its wages, the goal gained hath won its 
 
 prize : 
 While the labour lasted, while the race was running. 
 Many-times the sinews ached, and half refused the struggle : 
 But now, all is quietness, a pleasant hour given to repose ; 
 Calmness in the retrospect of good, and calmness in the prospect 
 
 of a blessing. 
 Hope was glad in the beginning, and fear was sad midway. 
 But sweet fruition cometh in the end, a harvest safe and sure. 
 That which is, can never not have been : facts are solid as the 
 
 pyramids : 
 A thing done is written in the rock, yea, with a pen of iron. 
 Uncertainty no more can scare, the proof is seen complete. 
 Nor accident render unaccomplished, for the deed is finished. 
 Thus the end shall crown the work, with grace, grace, imto the 
 
 topstone, 
 And the work shall triumph in its crown, with peace, peace, unto 
 
 the builder, 
 
 I have written, as other some of old, in quaint and meaning phrast. 
 Of many things for either world, a crowd of facts and fancies : 
 And will ye judge me, men of mind ? — judge in kindly calmness ; 
 For bitter words of haste or hate have often been repented. 
 Deep dreaming upon surface reading ; imagery crowded over argu- 
 ment ;
 
 ^ 
 
 S54 THE END. 
 
 Order less considered in the multitude of thoughts : this witnessing 
 
 is just. 
 Scripture gave the hoUer themes, the well-turned words and 
 
 wisdom ; 
 While Fancy on her swallow's wing skimmed those deeper waters : 
 And wilt thou say with shrewdness,— He hath burnished up old 
 
 truths. 
 But where he seemed to fashion new, the novelty was false? 
 Alas, for us in these last days, our elders reaped the harvest : 
 Alas, for all men in all times, who glean so many tares ! 
 That which is true, how should it be new? for time is old in years : 
 That which is new, how should it be true? for I am young in 
 
 wisdom. 
 
 Nevertheless, I have spoken at my best, according to the mercies 
 given me, 
 
 Of high, and deep, and famous things, of Evil, or of Good. 
 
 I have told of Errors near akin to Truth, and wholesomes linked 
 with poison ; 
 
 Of subtle Uses in the humblest, and the deep laid plots of Pride : 
 
 I have praised Wisdom, comforted thy Hope, and proved to thee 
 the folly of Complainings ; 
 
 Hinted at the hazard of an Influence, and turned thee from the 
 terrors of Ambition. 
 
 I have shown thee thy captivity to Law : yet bade thee hide 
 Humilities ; 
 
 I have lifted the curtains of Me.rviory ; and smoothed the soft pillow 
 of Rest. 
 
 Experience had his sober hour ; and Character its keen apprecia- 
 tion ; 
 
 And holy Anger stood sublime, where Hatred fell condemned. 
 
 Prayer spake the mind of God, even in His own good words \ 
 
 And Zeal, with kindness warmly mixt, allied him to Discretion. 
 
 I taught thee that nothing is a Trifle, even to the laugh of Recrea- 
 tion ; 
 
 I led thee with the Train of Religion, to be dazzled at the name of 
 the Triune. 
 
 Thought confessed his unseen fears ; and Speech declared his 
 triumphs ; 
 
 I sang the blessedness of books ; and commended the prudence of 
 a letter : 
 
 H
 
 THE END. 265 
 
 Riches found their room, either unto honour — or despising : 
 
 Inventions toolc their lower place, for all things come of God. 
 
 I scorned Ridicule ; nor would humble me for Praise ; for I had 
 
 gained Self-knowledge ; 
 And pleaded fervently for Brutes, who suffer for man's sin. 
 Then, I rose to Friendship ; and bathed in all the tenderness of 
 
 Love ; 
 Knew the purity of Marriage ; and blest the face of Children. 
 And whereas, by petulance or pride, I had haply said some evil. 
 Mine after-thought was Tolerance, to bear the faults of all : 
 ]\Iany faults, ill to bear, bred the theme of Sorrow ; 
 Many virtues, dear to see, induced the gush of Joy. 
 
 Thus, for awhile, as leaving thee in joy, was I loth to break that 
 
 spell ; 
 I roamed to other things and thoughts, and fashioned other books. 
 But in a season of reflection, after many days, 
 A thought stood before me in its garment of the past, — and lo, a 
 
 legion with it ! 
 They came in thronging bands, — I could' not fight nor fly them, — 
 And so they took me to their tent, the prisoner of thoughts. 
 
 Then, I bade thee greet me well, and heed my cheerful counsels ; 
 For every day we have a Friend, who changeth not with time. 
 Gladly did I speak of my commission, for I felt it graven on my 
 
 heart, 
 And could not hold my wiser peace, but magnified mine office. 
 Mystery had left her echoes in my mind, and I discoursed her 
 
 secret : 
 And thence I turned aside to man, and judged him for his Gifts. 
 Beauty, noble thesis, had a world of sweets to sing of, 
 And dated all her praise from God, the birthday of the soul. 
 Thence grew Fame ; and Flattery came like Agag ; 
 But this was as the nauseous dregs of that inspiring cup : 
 Forth from Flattery sprang in opposition harsh and dull Neglect ; 
 And kind Contentment's gentle face to smile away the sadness. 
 Life, all buoyancy and light, and Death, that sullen silence, 
 Sped the soul to Immortality, the final home of man. 
 Then, in metaphysical review, passed a triple troop, 
 Swift Ideas, sounding Names, and heavily armed Things : 
 Faith spake of her achievements even among men her bretliren ;
 
 266 THE END, 
 
 And Honesty, with open mouth, would vindicate himself: 
 
 The retrospect of Social life had many truths to tell of. 
 
 And then I left thee to thy Solitude, learning there of Wisdom. 
 
 Friend and scholar, lover of the right, mine equal kind com- 
 panion, — 
 I prize indeed thy favour, and these sympathies are dear : 
 Still, if thy heart be little with me, wot thou well, my brother, 
 I canvass not the smiles of praise, nor dread the frowns of censure. 
 Through many themes in many thoughts, have we held sweet con- 
 verse ; 
 But God alone be praised for mind ! He only is sufficient. 
 And every thought in every theme by prayer had been established 
 Who then should fear the face of man, when God hath answered 
 
 prayer ? — 
 I speak it not in arrogance of heart, but humbly as of justice, 
 I think it not in vanity of soul, but tenderly, for gratitude, — 
 God hath blest my mind, and taught it many truths : 
 And I have echoed some to thee, in weakness, yet sincerely : 
 Yea, though ignorance and error shall have marred those lessons 
 
 of His teaching, 
 I stand in mine own Master's praise, or fall to His reproof. 
 If thou lovest, help me with thy blessing ; if otherwise, mine shall 
 
 be for thee ; 
 If thou approvest, heed my words ; if otherwise, in kindness be my 
 
 teacher. 
 Many mingled thoughts for self have warped my better aim ; 
 Many motives tempted still, to toil for pride or praise : 
 Alas, I have loved pride and praise, like others worse or worthier ; 
 But hate and fear them now, as snakes that fastened on my hand : 
 ScDsvola burnt both hand and crime ; but Paul flung the viper on 
 
 the fire : 
 He shook it off, and felt no harm : so be it ! I renounce them. 
 Rebuke then, if thou wilt rebuke,— but neither hastily nor harshly; 
 Or, if thou wilt commend, be it honestly, of right : I work for God 
 and good. 
 
 TEAOS. 
 
 ^
 
 T HI R D S E R I E S 
 
 PREAMBLE. 
 
 Again, toward the eventide of life, I touch that rhythmic harp 
 Struck by the son of Sirac twenty centuries agone ; 
 Again, I ask thy favour, — thou, my brother or my sister, 
 Not as a stranger might but now a friend of thirty years ; 
 Again, I canvass for my words thy patience and thy love, 
 Again, I show my thoughts to thee, for sympathy and kindness : 
 Thoughts not stolen out of books, nor noted day by day, 
 But springing fresh beneath my pen, unsought and unrestrained ; 
 Thoughts ever frankly spoken, as from brother's heart to heart, 
 Regardless of the jibe of fools, and proof against their spleen. 
 I would away with selfishness ; I would forswear all vanity ; 
 Nor write for praises, but in hope, to do a little good ; 
 In all sincerity and singleness to work my Master's work. 
 While yet the day of life is lent, with leisure health and grace. 
 
 Once more then after thirty years, I come, O friend and brother. 
 Bringing my modern thoughts to thee in their antique disguise : 
 This Eastern garb is somewhat, if its ancient quaintness help 
 To catch thy kind attention, and to win thy willing mind. 
 In those thirty years, a generation is entombed, 
 And wondrous changes have there been, and much of good and 
 evil ;
 
 ^ 
 
 268 PREAMBLE. 
 
 And death hath made old friendships rare, and many have been 
 
 the wrecks 
 From storm to storm as some we knew broke on the rocks of life ; 
 And thankfulness and penitence and charity and faith, 
 These well become us all, O friends, remembei^ing the past. 
 
 We have been through seas of sorrows, we have traversed a whole 
 
 wilderness of trial. 
 Many sins and cares and pains and pleasures have we met. 
 Often in the shadow of death, often in the valley of weeping, 
 And rarely now and then have basked full in the prosperous sun : 
 Danger and adventure have been ours, good providences and 
 
 strange accidents, 
 And well indeed if heinous sin hath not bedimmed our light ; 
 Slander bespattered us at times, at times fair fame caressed us. 
 And now disease hath brought us down, or strong help set us up ; 
 Many disappointments and misfortunes, yet manifold blessings and 
 
 advancements. 
 Much was ours of grievous loss, yet some good gains withal : 
 Thousands have fallen at our side, slain in the battle of life. 
 Or dropping, scarcely missed, to death, through Mirza's visioned 
 
 bridge : 
 And still we stand to fight the fight, if faint — thank God, pursuing. 
 Still is life with half its hopes and all its mercies ours : 
 Therefore gratitude and pen 'ence, faith and hope and charity. 
 These well become us each, O friends, reviewing all that past. 
 
 To teach thy neighbour clearly, search thine own heart deeply, 
 
 Search impartially, with prayer, in humbleness of mind ; 
 
 And from the bottom of that well thou shalt draw up truth, 
 
 AVhich, quickened by the breath of day, may flow to others' good. 
 
 Each man's heart is a mine unworked, and all are rich in metal. 
 
 Silver or copper, arsenic or iron, mercury lead or gold ; 
 
 More is beneath than can ever be brought up, veins to be wrought 
 
 for ages, 
 When the life of Eternity beginneth, after the death of Time. 
 No man knoweth his own wealth, his mightiness for evil or for 
 
 good. 
 No man hath guessed his capabilities, nor how he shall expand ; 
 No one ever writ the half, nor spoke the tithe he thinketh, 
 Never yet was mind exhausted, nor one heart dug out.
 
 PREAMBLE. 269 
 
 We are here for an hour to catch a fated bent, and then, ducct or 
 
 crooked, 
 The arrow speedeth ever, as first aimed and shot by us, 
 That arrow of Existence, our own unendable career. 
 Ever flying to its mark, tire Infinite of joy or sorrow. 
 And every man's experience, is a lesson due to all. 
 For no one ever yet was taught of Heaven for selfish ends. 
 The trials and temptations thou hast seen, thy battles lost or won. 
 Were meant not for thyself alone, to strengthen only thee ; 
 The story of thy wreck in life, or winning the Fair Havens 
 Shall be the chart of safety, to thy neighbour for his bark : 
 Then say not thou so bitterly, — self-shewing is self-seeking, —   
 A fool's heart is worn upon his sleeve, for every daw to peck at : 
 No ! there is a generous egotism, — in wisdom genially uttered, 
 Frank and honest plainness, which no true man will despise. 
 In no self-seeking doth the Christian analyse his heart, 
 In no self-praising can he show the spots and wrinkles there ; 
 A servant, he hath much to do, and little time for doing ; 
 A soldier, duty is his end, with courage for the way ; 
 A man among his brother-men, he prizeth well their love, 
 And scorning no one's censure, asketh no one's praise. 
 
 A book is In no sort like a cable, to be judged by its weakest inch, 
 A chain to be condemned throughout, because some links are faulty ; 
 Neither as a hedge nor as a wall, to be m.easured for its usefulness 
 
 by gaps, 
 But generously, honourably, fairly, averaging this and that : 
 If the tree have any well-ripe fruits, produce them for the banquet, 
 But let the sourlings be, a good tree beareth both : 
 It is the vice of our scribes to magnify both best and worst 
 In books they think to help by praise, or hope to harm by censure : 
 And some will read before they judge, other some will judge with- 
 out the reading. 
 Fairness guiding those, party and prejudice these ; 
 Yet is your confessor of no party ; neither side can claim him ; 
 High, or low, narrow, or broad, — in all are good and evil ; 
 The Patriot, as the Christian, is found of evei-y sect, 
 And moderate men will bid God-speed to Patriots and to Chris* 
 
 tians ; — 
 And, for the matter of prejudice, none asketh other than strict 
 , justice
 
 270 OF INNOCENCE AND GUILT. 
 
 After honest diligence to learn an author's mind ; 
 But books will live, and books will die, alone for their deservings, 
 And no man's fame is made or marred, by other than himself : 
 While, for better things than fame, good-doing and glad conscience, 
 A champion, shod in steel with these, can kick against the pricks ; 
 Good doing, tokened by your love, O world of unseen friends, 
 Glad conscience, stablished in Thy grace, my Saviour and my God. 
 
 ^ 
 
 OF INNOCENCE AND GUILT. 
 
 Happy art thou, O son, if thou hast walked innocently. 
 
 Baffling corruption in thy heart, and battling the temptations of 
 
 the world ; 
 Happy, if thy present is not clouded with the past, — nor miserably 
 
 shadowed on the future, 
 Happy among men art thou, if hitherto thy converse hath been 
 
 innocent : 
 If there be none of all tliy brethren whom thy greed hath wronged, 
 None to complain of thee for meannesses, none to charge thee 
 
 with injustice. 
 None whom thy vindictiveness hath slandered, none by thee 
 
 maligned, 
 No poor cruelly entreated, no rich fraudulently spoiled : 
 If there be none of all thy sisters, whom thy passion hath betrayed. 
 No foul retrospects of folly, no dark consciousness of crime. 
 No young unguilty face, to dim remembrance with her tears, 
 No lower outcast claiming thee, hereafter, soul and body : 
 If to thyself thou hast been true, if thou hast been mindful of thy 
 
 God, 
 Nor ever slept, nor ever woke, without a prayer to Him ; 
 If thou hast at all times done thy best, bearing trials well. 
 If thou hast smiled at slander, and been humble under praise, 
 If thou hast diligently used thy talents and occasions, 
 If through good doing here, thou hast laid up treasure elsewhere, 
 Happy art thou, and honourable ; yea thy heart is peaceful, 
 Pleasant is thy sleep by night, and sweet is thy complacency by 
 
 day. 
 Truly, an innocent life bringeth its own rewardings, 
 Truly, within and not without, is that better heaven.
 
 OF INNOCENCE AND GUILT. 271 
 
 Yet, art thou btill in peril, and hast need of grace, my son, 
 
 To keep th.ee pure as now thou art, and save thee from a fall : 
 
 Yea, thou hast need of Angels, ministering good, 
 
 Thankfulness, humility, and fear ; praying and watching always. 
 
 For, this very hour, the Philistines may be upon thee, Samson, 
 
 Delilah may mesh thee in her hair, and steal from thee thy treasure, — 
 
 Or some evil covetousness stamp thee Ananias, 
 
 Or thy soul may drain that poison, spiritual pride. 
 
 Dread thine utter weakness, trust the strength of God, 
 
 Regard thy purer past only as a gift of mercy, 
 
 Kindly raise the fallen, considering thine own corruption. 
 
 Look in fear upon the guilt that might have been thine own ; 
 
 Be humble, that is safety ; in thankfulness be humble. 
 
 And fling from thy clean hand the viper of self-righteousness. 
 
 And wretched art thou, O son,— though rich and gorged with 
 
 pleasures, 
 Though rank, and wealth, and favour set thee high above thy kind. 
 Yea, most miserable art thou, if guilt is as a cancer on thy conscience, 
 In memory of evil deeds, wilful and unrepented : 
 If thy selfish falsehood hath broken loving hearts, 
 If thy coarser passions riot in the mysteries of sin, 
 If thou hast stolen and defrauded, if thou hast harmed through 
 
 malice. 
 If thou hast secretly indulged, or openly professed pollution. 
 Yea, thou hast seeds of sorrow planted in thy heart 
 Enough to make its borders sad for ever and for ever ; 
 Yea, there is need of nothing else, nor fire nor worm undying. 
 To make the sinner's punishment eternal and supreme ; 
 His conscious soul aflame with all those burning memories. 
 This is enough for vengeance in whatever world : 
 Here, sharp terrors of discovery, and the pale faces of his victims, 
 Remorse, disease, and self contempt, despair for earth and heaven ; 
 Hereafter, all the past become a terrible present, 
 Never to end and never to mend, without one hope of better ; 
 Only misery to feed on, memory of chances gone. 
 Ruined good, and squandered talents, all one bitter chaos : 
 Such are the wages of the guilty, hourly paid him here. 
 And evermore to be the price of all his evil doings ; 
 Now, to darken every noon, and frighten every night. 
 Then, to make eternal life an endless death to him. 
 
 -4^
 
 ^ 
 
 272 OF INNOCENCE AND GUILT. 
 
 Yet, is there hope, O brother, — still in life is hope, — 
 
 For He that giveth one more day, gave it for repentance. 
 
 Now, in this blest hour, put aside thy sins, 
 
 Lay thy guilt on Christ, the scapegoat for all evil : 
 
 If this word, sincerely uttered, reacheth thee in solitude, 
 
 Put it not aside, but lift thy heart in momentary prayer ; 
 
 Who knoweth, whether thy Good Angel be not now beside thee. 
 
 And did not the Father of the prodigal fall on his neck and kiss 
 
 him? 
 If thou art in company with others, be not ashamed of Truth, 
 Seek to be alone awhile, and gaze upon her face : 
 This shall be a day to be remembered, the dawn of happy good. 
 The breaking of thy fetters, and the death to all thy fears : 
 "Whatever may have been the past, however black and hideous, 
 It hath a present cure, repentance with amendment. 
 Be just in restitution where thou canst, confessing with discreetness,. 
 And prove not so unjust to God, as to despair of grace ; 
 Guilt is pardoned at the word, that Heaven waiteth long to hear. 
 And pardoned guilt is that New Life, the next akin to innocence. 
 
 But, there are strange differences in guilt, as there is infinity to- 
 ward innocence. 
 This last leading up to God, and those being footsteps in corruption : 
 And many causes of all kinds are leaven to the twain. 
 Birth, education, circumstance, the mysteries of partial Providence. 
 Far be it from any man to judge, ignorant and full of prejudice. 
 For the race is run with various weights, that have to be allowed 
 
 for. 
 An orphan outcast of the streets, bred in vice and cruelty. 
 Whose only teachings have been theft, lying, lust and baseness. 
 With nought but evil round him, and his mother's taint within, 
 Some reprobate father's image, stunted in mind and body, — 
 How to compare him as to guilt, with another nurtured in piety. 
 Carefully taught and tended, come of a stock of saints. 
 With every help for either world, health and wealth and kindness. 
 And leanings to the good and pure through twenty generations ? 
 O Man, leave judgments to the Judge : it needeth an infinity of 
 
 wisdom 
 To set those balances aright, which bless or ban a soul. 
 
 ^ Yet there is a marvellous diversity among the characters of men. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■#
 
 u ^ A 
 
 N OF INNOCENCE AND GUILT. 273 V 
 
 Heights of aspiration, and depths of degradation, with infinite 
 breadths upon the level : 
 
 The many are read at a glance, neither very good nor very evil, 
 
 Changeable to either sort, and kindly weakly natured j 
 
 The few, of infinite capacities, bent toward right or wrong, 
 
 So that thou shalt not easily gauge the saint or the sinner before 
 thee : 
 
 There are higher heights in the spiritual life, than thy thought may 
 reach, 
 
 There are deeper depths in wickedness, than common men can 
 fathom ; 
 
 In either the immortal is perceived, the strong flight of that spirit 
 is begun. 
 
 To wing its way for ever, through all good or evil worlds. 
 
 O Man, set steadily thy will to catch the breeze of Heaven, 
 
 Nor luff that iron rudder to the Maelstrom of the Lost ; 
 
 It is given to thy nature to be great, an awful Immortality, 
 
 And in thy hand is placed betimes its happiness or woe. 
 
 Needs must there be a separation, dividing the evil from the good ; 
 
 Worlds of retribution and reward, as worlds of resurrection in ex- 
 perience : 
 
 So long as consciousness surviveth, so long shall memory be keen ; 
 
 And there is no crueller avenger, no tenderer rewarder than Re- 
 membrance. 
 
 The Muses were daughters of Mnemosyne ; and Night the mother 
 of Memory 
 
 Had likewise the Furies for her daughters, Remorse and bitter 
 Shame, 
 
 Even with pardoned guilt, the scars will ache though healed : 
 
 But innocence hath no such scars, no aching if no healing : 
 
 To be well-forgiven may be joy, so to be redeemed from punish- 
 ment. 
 
 Yet must that spirit recollect, painfully what evil it hath worked : 
 
 And there is a cloud upon its brow that never darkened innocence. 
 
 Whose crown of glory is not dimmed by memories of sin. 
 
 O youth, O man, O fair maid or matron, 
 Keep innocency, — nothing less ensureth peace at the last : 
 Or, if utterly thou hast lost it, let no rash despair 
 Provolce thee to be reckless of the Grace that yearneth to restore 
 thee ;
 
 274 OF I'll IS WORLD'S AGE, 
 
 Haste with penitence and prayer : all have need of mercy ; 
 All may ask it, if they will, and have it for the asking. 
 
 '¥ 
 
 OF THIS WORLD'S AGE. 
 
 God is truth, God is light, God is right and reason ; 
 
 He cannot darken nor deceive, nor cheat the sons of men : 
 
 That which He graveth on the rock, as that which He writeth in 
 
 the Book, 
 Leadeth not astray, is not dangerous to seek, nor difficult to find. 
 Fear not thou, meek Christian, the flare from Reason's torch 
 Illumining the caverns of the Earth, and searching secrets there ; 
 Be not ashamed, O Philosopher, but boldly show thy proofs 
 That mother Earth is old beyond all human computation ; 
 That infinite periods are needed for her mountains made of shells. 
 For her saltmines dried from ancient seas, for her ores and fossil 
 
 forests. 
 For the monsters living through their centuries on continents of mud. 
 Millions of years ere Adam was, with Eden for his home. 
 As leaves of some old book, inscribed with unknown characters, 
 The strata, folios on folios, testify to byegone histories : 
 Whether in the page-like slates, and schales and films of stone, 
 Each with its beauteous illustration, ferns and flies and fishes, 
 Or in the miles of massy chalk, or swathing thicknesses of clay, 
 Or granite where all life was fused by force of primal fires. 
 Or lower still where water, in the green Laurentian lime. 
 Preserved to our microscopic wonder, the first-born atomies of life,- - 
 Everywhere, is manifestly written in characters that all may read 
 A vast antiquity for Earth scarce shorter than a past Eternity. 
 
 Moses, the wisest among men, taught by the God of wisdom, 
 
 Knew and spake of old the truths we now discover : 
 
 In the beginning of all peons, myriads of eras back, 
 
 In the beginning with the Word, who both was God and with God, 
 
 In that beginning of beginnings, He created all things, 
 
 The suns as they stand, and their planets as they roll, the universe, 
 
 the Heavens and the Earth. 
 What need hath man to learn the history of all those ages ? 
 Why should his teacher of religion heap him with the chaos of 
 
 their facts ?
 
 OF Tins WORLD'S AGE. 275 
 
 Tribes of most ancient lower-life over-swarmed the desolated globe, 
 Preyed on eaci: other and were whelmed, by earthquakes, deluges, 
 
 volcanoes : 
 In a beautiful series of improvement, higher succeeding to the 
 
 humbler. 
 As if the choice of Wisdom was Perfection by degrees : 
 Each wave of life congealing was a stepping-stone beyond, 
 Until they bridged that ancient sea with monumental death, 
 Eut why encumber our minds with lore so slightly worth 
 When in man's little year he scarce hath time for duties ? 
 It were wise to leave riddles in the rocks, for science to solve 
 
 thereafter. 
 But not to vex an infant race, with themes beyond its ken : 
 So, when this everlasting scroll, that God hath fashioned all things. 
 Was first and once, as by an Angel, flung across the universe of matter, 
 The spirit of the Book, and of the World, commandeth holy silence. 
 And the gulf of innumerable ages is leapt by Revelation. 
 Era followed era, while Earth lay ripening for man, 
 And multitudes of living things then served their generations : 
 The rocks and giant hills are full of fossil forms. 
 And half the crust of Earth is built of microscopic shells : 
 Dragons fattened in the slime, while forests, matting overhead, 
 Drained, from premundane sunshine, our brightest coloured tints : 
 And grinding cataracts of ice, and tilts of land and water 
 Many times wrought destruction on those pristine tribes of Earth ; 
 Often the creation was renewed, standing on the ruins of a former. 
 Often, by fire or by flood, the catastrophes swept on to desolation. 
 Then, after many many ages, when earth stood rich in soils. 
 Laden with ores and fuel, stocked and stored with wealth, 
 Fitted, at God's behest, to bring forth food for man. 
 And baited with secrets for his intellect as well as with jewels for 
 
 his pride. 
 Then, after some more crashing ruin, when the globe was void and 
 
 formless. 
 Dashed into fragments as a potsherd, and empty of all life. 
 Then, the Spirit moved, on the face of drowning waters. 
 And God commanded order, crystallizing from those ruins. 
 Thus our Cosmos grew ; He willed it, day by day, 
 (Why not a week ot days, as easy as an mstant or an aeon? ) 
 And, in harmonious succession, rising from the lowest to the highest, 
 All our humbler creatures, and their mother Earth, 
 
 "*• 
 
 ^
 
 "^Ir 
 
 276 OF THIS WORLD'S AGE. 
 
 Waited ready for their lord, the man whom God created. 
 
 Adam is our date, — as we are Adam's children ; 
 
 From Adam's birth six thousand years have well nigh sped on Earth. 
 
 To Adam's race alone, the Word by Moses spake, 
 
 And God was pleased Himself to live a very Son of Eve. 
 
 It may be there were earlier tribes, in some premundane eras, 
 
 Tribes analogous with man, but not of Adam's race : 
 
 Skulls in the sandstone, or the chalk, or the lias may yet be 
 
 gathered. 
 To scatter sagest theory, but not harm foolish faith : 
 Hitherto nothing hath appeared, beyond some faint remains 
 Of savage men, who dwelt in caves, before our Noah's flood, 
 Battling wretchedly with beasts, extinct since that last deluge, 
 And downward sunk in misery, a whole degraded race, 
 Children of Cain scattered over earth, curst for their father's sake, 
 With his black mark set on them over all, as witnessed to this hour ; 
 Even in the Ark of refuge, the wife of Ham was one, 
 And so, indelibly for ever, was multiplied that ancient stain. 
 Perchance, if any so-called men were in those old creations, 
 God may have raised their bodies, in some earlier resurrection 
 No trace would then be found, saving of the lower animals ; 
 While the absence of their lord proclaimed his higher calling : 
 But, what mattereth it to us, the new made race of Man, 
 The dynasty of Adam, formed to fill that ancient throne ? 
 From him, through a thousand generations, God doth give all good. 
 Commanding duties, promising rewards, and stirring hopes and fears; 
 For which our privilege is gratitude, our daily strength is Faith, 
 Our aim a nobler sphere, and this old world's great future. 
 
 Yea : for a bright regeneration is ripening for this Earth, 
 Its thousand years of days of years, according to the Scripture, 
 A year for a day and a day for a year, no simple thousand years ; 
 Three hundred threescore and five thousand make the vi'ondrous 
 
 sum : 
 Then,— and the promise is to us, to us and to our children. 
 Commencing with a generation that yet shall see the end. 
 That glorious consummation for the Earth, our longed-for age of 
 
 glory, 
 Our holiday of happiness, our Sabbath of high praise, 
 Shall gladden all Earth's creatures, the lion as the ox, 
 
 ■^
 
 OF CIRCUMSTANCE. 277 
 
 The trees of the wood, and the flowers of the field, the hills and 
 plains and valleys. 
 
 OF CIRCUMSTANCE. 
 
 Boast not, O man of much adventure, for thou canst compass 
 little, 
 
 Save by steering with the tide, to catch the swing of circumstance ; 
 
 Skill and courage are as nought, striving against the current, 
 
 Lut best are shown and used, when with it, not against it. 
 
 A wise man watcheth for his chance, to seize it on the instant, 
 
 And, to be ready for that chance, must be well prepared before- 
 hand : 
 
 Therefore, a diligence in all things is the strongest fulcrum of su > 
 cess. 
 
 Therefore the many sided mind is ripe for every prize. 
 
 How mightily beyond our power, beyond our will or thought 
 
 The force of outer circumstance constraineth to obey : 
 
 Yet a man is no straw upon the hurricane ; his consciousness is 
 
 calm ; 
 In patience, strength, and prayer he still can stem the tempest j 
 Waiting and watching his occasion, self-possessed and shrewd. 
 He yet may make the vortex serve him not enslave him. 
 If thou art master of thyself, circumstance shall harm thee little ; 
 But weakness sloth and sin make men as leaves on eddies. 
 True, some seeming accident can fell the strong man by a blow. 
 Decisive and inevitable, to be patiently accepted as of Providence ; 
 Even if the throne of Palseologus be lost through such slight cause, 
 Well, — it was the will of Heaven, not the whim of chance ; 
 Or haply an honest serf, running with the crowd of sightseers 
 To win a glance at his loved Prince, the Russian's Czar and father. 
 Blest by happy circumstance, but ready for the act 
 In loyal heart and daring hand, and kindliness and honour, 
 Stayeth the crime of the assassin ; and leapeth into instant fortune 
 Hero and darling of his people, ennobled and enriched. 
 Or haply, in the dead of night, some half-mad jealous sister 
 Terribly perpetrateth murder upon sleeping infant innocence ; 
 And the false finger of suspicion pointed at the wretched father. 
 Ruin swept his home, calumny and hatred crushed him, 
 
 4
 
 * 
 
 278 OF CIRCUMSTANCE. 
 
 And all through evil circumstance, that he could not escape : 
 Yet had he governed early the wicked ■ivayward daughter, 
 Or lived the life of purity, that no ill tongue could taint, 
 Or frankly and manfully outspoken, quelling the voice of clamour, 
 He, as pitied, not condemned, might have overaiastered circum- 
 stance. 
 All things spring of seeds, nothing groweth but from roots. 
 Even calumnious suspicion is weak against strong character : 
 And many times an innocent in fact hath suffered as a criminal in 
 
 law 
 Deserving all that penalty, well due to old transgressions. 
 
 Wide is the range of circumstance, Init narrower the difference in 
 
 condition. 
 Happiness is measured out, to most, with equal hand. 
 Innocency, rarest among men, — yet some there be who keep it, 
 Innocency from the gi"eat offence, clean life with quiet conscience, 
 Innocency giveth in all states a double dole of happiness, — • 
 And guilt detracteth from them all the half if not the whole. 
 Even disease upon her bed, lying there year after year. 
 Is cheerful and contented, with religion in her heart ; 
 Even strong health upon his hunter, galloping over the uplands, 
 Is wretched from his sins, blaspheming as he leapt : 
 The little workhouse orphan, slave to some wom.an tyrant, 
 Singeth at her half-starved toil merrily spite of hardship ; 
 While yonder highbred beauty, wearied with waltzing at the ball, 
 Sobbeth on her sofa, envious, piqued, unhappy. 
 It is not accident of circumstance, but innate quality of soul 
 That addeth peace or taketh it away, as well with the highest as 
 
 the lowest. 
 
 Many things marvellous to us, until we know their causes, 
 Justify the government of Providence, with those their causes known. 
 vSometimes the profligate father hath a pious son, 
 Driven to such happy contrariety through hate of Helot-vice ; 
 Sometimes a profligate son shall cheat his pious father 
 For morals all too stern, and ill-advised restraints 
 Guilt shall heap up wealth, if keenness and industry be added, — 
 And saints must come to poverty, if prudence be not theirs ; 
 Triumph is not given to the right, if vigour be wanting in its 
 champion ;
 
 '^ OF CIRCUMSTANCE. 279 
 
 And liigh success may crown the wrong through energy and skill. 
 Causes win consequents, and laws will govern universally, 
 Neither are they warped but by a miracle, that miracle born of 
 
 prayer. 
 While thou canst, give diligence ; every sort of knowledge 
 Riseth to the surface in its turn on the eddying torrent of life : 
 And it is the privilege of genius, energy seizing on occasion, 
 To use all sorts of knowledge, and make them serve its ends. 
 I have known a poor school teacher, husbanding his scant leisure, 
 Studious of Chinese lore, while many mocked his folly ; 
 But in due time good circumstance swept by, an interpreter was 
 
 wanted for a treaty, 
 The Chinese scholar was in quest, and lo ! a man ready with his 
 
 learning ; 
 Wealth and fame and fortune came within his reach. 
 And so well-skilled he gathered wealth and fame and fortune. 
 As occasion passeth on, if thy hand pluck not quickly at its sleeve; 
 It walketh away, thy chance is gone, because thou wast not ready. 
 The soil must be well-dressed, to give the seed full growth. 
 And for the battle of life, both mind and body should be athletes. 
 Therefore the aim of education should be more to build up character 
 Than painfully to store the mind with multitude of facts ; 
 And the training, the discipline, the grammar, these are ends as 
 
 well as means ; 
 Nerving and establishing the man, for much beyond his classics. 
 Our youths have Spartan lessons, and grow thereby strong and 
 
 patient ; 
 Our maidens throng the Capuan school, for vanities and caprice. 
 Mindfully, with high conscience, true scholars study all things. 
 And learn betimes to use aright all weapons in all armouries. 
 A wise man redeemeth his time, that he may improve his chances; 
 Diligence ever winning reward upon occasion : 
 Never have I seen the statesman, the orator poet or preacher, 
 To whom his school day lessons came not as continual allies. 
 However wide the field, analogy in all things is so perfect. 
 No knowledge seemeth unavailable, no toil bringeth not its gain. 
 Therefore read and mark, and think and write for memory, 
 Therefore scorn no lore, for all are full of uses ; 
 The student of a shingle beach may find in stones true sermons ; 
 The watcher of a microscope shall win deep wisdom out of monads ; 
 He that knoweth to swim can save himself or another, 
 
 ¥
 
 28o OF THE STARRY HE A VENS. 
 
 So earning second lives, by readiness for occasion ; 
 
 The linguist, multiplying usefulness, and fusing his ideas in other 
 tongues, 
 
 Is fitted both to teach and learn, through being well prepared ; 
 
 The musician pleaseth l^y his skill, philosophers make rich through 
 science, 
 
 But all must have given diligence, to be quick to the call of Cir- 
 cumstance. 
 
 Every one of us getteth his desert, somehow, somewhen, some- 
 where, 
 Penalties are earned as surely as rewards, pains alike with plea- 
 sures : 
 No man gathereth grapes of thorns, neither figs of thistles ; 
 Everything is consequent, and nothing by a chance : 
 This thy torment of disease, this racking of a joint or of a nerve. 
 Is due to thine own foolishness, and hath been well deserved : 
 All things grow of seeds, accident hath no real being. 
 That we sow we reap, that which is is ordered. 
 
 A wise man fitteth Into Circumstance, easily cheerfully and wholly. 
 
 Even as a globule of quicksilver filleth up its any little mould ; 
 
 Instantly adaptable his mind acquiesceth contentedly and bravely 
 
 In all the will of Providence, led on by Duty's clue : 
 
 For he wotteth well and shrewdly, that, let whatever happen. 
 
 Circumstance is the servant, not the master of his soul. 
 
 And that, looking still toward Heaven in his travail on the earth, 
 
 He is gradually fitted for his place, and the work he hath to do. 
 
 OF THE STARRY HEAVENS. 
 
 " The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth 
 
 His handy work : 
 " One day telleth another, and one night proclaimeth to another : 
 There is neither speech nor language, where their voices are not 
 
 heard ; 
 "Their sound is gone out through all the earth, and their words 
 
 to thj ends of the world." 
 The Spirit that sang in David, as the Mind that preached in Paul, 
 Knqw and recorded long ago how various are the lights of lieaven ;
 
 OF THE STARRY HEAVENS. 281 
 
 That there is one glory of the sun and another glory of the moon, 
 And another glory of the stars, differing each from other : 
 And now doth modern science but retouch that ancient truth, 
 Dividing by three-angled glass those glories in proportions, 
 So that we calculate and prove what Paul and David saw, 
 And show that the Bible of the saint is equally the text-book of the 
 
 stars, inhabited of angels, worlds of wondrous glory. 
 That shine in your far stations, flaming sentinels of Space, 
 How full of mystery and marvel, rich in unthought wealth, 
 How beauteous and how vast are ye, strange islands of the Blest ! 
 Walking in these fields by night, with dews and solitude around mc, 
 Or on tliat rippled shingle, with music in the waves, 
 
 1 lift my heart up with mine eyes, yearning toward the stai"s, 
 Each so different in glory, all so brilliant and enormous. 
 Wondering which of them is mine, my kingdom of inheritance. 
 Claimed through The Heir of all things, my Saviour, God and 
 
 Brother, 
 Is there not for each of us his star, as those of yore declared, — 
 (And old tradition runneth rooted strong in earth, like couch,) 
 A fated realm for the immortal, made co-heir in Christ, 
 A waiting throne with its angel here, to guard him on the way? 
 Each star beckoneth on to glory, our distant twinkling goal. 
 Albeit this clay-cold soil of earth may clog the wayward feet ; 
 Ever are we creeping on in darkness, with Duty for a lant<jrn 
 
 through it all ; 
 Ever fighting ambushed foes, and God to fight for us ; 
 Ever do we grope and guess, hoping where we cannot see. 
 And all our wisdom here the while, is walking straight in faith. 
 
 O bright candles of the Lord, searching out earth's dark corners, 
 Calm witnesses to many deeds that fain would hide in night ; 
 Alas ! for the evils ye behold, the wrongs and harms and sorrows. 
 The discords that rush up from us to your harmonic sphere ! 
 Yea, sinner, cease from sinning, in the sight of all these eyes, 
 Let them not see tliy guilt, for shame, to testify far off; 
 For thou art watched, O sinner, and thy works recorded j 
 Repent, return, and sin no more beneath the conscious stars. 
 
 Suns, fi.xed centres of bright systems, grouped with unseen planets, 
 
 ■•f 
 
 ^
 
 #■ 
 
 282 OF THE STARR V HEA VEAS. 
 
 All, one universe of globes careering round God's Throne, 
 How meanly can we estimate the glory and high grace 
 Hid in some sparkle, twinkling there, ten billion leagues away ! 
 Possibly, each star-sun is the central heaven to its system ; 
 Probably, the worlds i-ound each are tried and purified as ours ; 
 For, matter tendeth to corruption, and moral trials unto purity ; 
 Exceeding broad are His commandments, filling the extremities of 
 
 Space. 
 He spreadeth out the heavens like a curtain, woven of many lights, 
 A golden tissue of comets' trails, bejewelled with set worlds. 
 The Great King's robe of glory flowing to the footstool of His throne, 
 And glittering with its million suns, celestial mounts of light. 
 Our minds have skill to weigh those worlds, to measure out their 
 
 distances. 
 To note the nice diversities that tint their spectral hues ; 
 We calculate their structure and their elements, haply their crea- 
 tures and their histories. 
 And shrewdly from a slenderest hint deduce some strong-limbed 
 
 truth : 
 We judge that each, — of three millions we can count, and mil- 
 lions more half-seen. 
 The clouds of diamond-dust around Jehovah's chariot wheels, — 
 Is vaster than thought's vastest, brighter than imagination's 
 
 brightest, 
 And peopled with glad creatures, all perfect in their kind. 
 Of novel forms in beauty, shapes and senses unconceived. 
 With other lights in colour, and other tones in music. 
 Strange pleasures, and new virtues, incommunicable thoughts, 
 And powers we cannot guess, capacities, intensities, expansions, 
 Pertaining to exalted natures, rich in glorious gifts, 
 And nobler in themselves than we, as creatures nearer God. 
 
 Yet, are your thrones, O some among the stars, waiting for their 
 
 human kings. 
 Heirs to fill those highest seats, made void through war in heaven. 
 With many of you, each is vacant of its head, — some down-hurled 
 
 son of glory, — 
 And ready for a substituted chief, a brother of the Christ, 
 A ransomed child of Adam, made through suffering perfect. 
 Lower than the angels at his first, but higher than them all here- 
 after.
 
 OF THE STARRY HE A VENS. 283 
 
 Each star is a mighty kingdom, tributary to the central Sun, 
 And stood, or swerved, iu loyalty, when Lucifer tempted changes ; 
 In some the pristine rulers, fallen from their pure seraphic state. 
 Have left those Canaan cities to be won by Israel's host ; 
 In some they stood sublime, Abdiels among the sons of Belial, 
 Gaining the regalia for themselves, Archangels though not men ; 
 Angels stood and angels fell ; as men may fall or stand, 
 God's darling youngest-born, His Benjamins and Davids. 
 
 There be globes, near of kin to our world, wanderers, dependents 
 
 on the sun. 
 So vast and rare and light, we may guess them spiritual mansions ; 
 That outer quaternion of planets, flying in a wider orbit, 
 The so-styled Jupiter and Saturn, Uranus and furthest Neptune : 
 These, each larger than this earth, by a thousand times and more, 
 Weigh yet as lightness for their bulk, seemingly less substantial. 
 Have such worlds expanded, balancing alike for density, 
 But swollen as to gaseous globes, fitted for some half-material beings? 
 Have these four, purified by fire, attained their incorruptible per- 
 fection ; 
 The like whereof we look for Earth, for Venus, Mercury and 
 
 Mars ? 
 And is it that the lost huge planet, shattered into ninety provinces, 
 Asteroid-orbs that sweep midway between near Mars and Jupiter, 
 Burst and demolished for its sin, is a warning to our grosser worlds, 
 Now looking equally to judgment, and waiting for a baptism of 
 
 fire? 
 That huge and ruined world, was it once the realm of Lucifer, 
 Prince of the powers of the air, since fallen through ambition ? 
 And are the shattered fragments of his kingdom homes for evil 
 
 angels. 
 Flung down to earth in meteors, and troubling our skies with pes- 
 tilence, — 
 Wandering stars, soon to be put out, in blackness of darkness for 
 
 ^ 
 
 ever 
 
 -> 
 
 For behold,— that devastated globe, vast as Jupiter or Neptune, 
 May have been comet-struck for sin just before man was made ; 
 And its degraded monarch may have striven thus to seize 
 The new weak creature's kingdom for his glory and revenges. 
 
 And for those better four, flowering in season from their roots,
 
 284 OF THE STARR V HE A VENS. 
 
 Each hath grown to its millenium, and won that aaon of its glory ; 
 Each is now the hajDpy home of beings purified from matter, 
 Having passed, long eras since, through fiery ordeals to perfection. 
 Then, as for our humbler four, Mars, Earth, Mercury, and Venus, 
 Now we stand for illustration set before the universe of worlds, 
 Showing that earlier phase, the hour of sin and trial. 
 Homely in Time's w'orking-dress before our Sabbath suit ; 
 But meant to be hereafter cloth ed-upon and grown to be fit heavens 
 
 for their children. 
 Wide enough for all the generations of all creatures bom therein. 
 Earth (and those near planets in their season, at intervals of million 
 
 ages,) 
 May swell and ripen in the fire, when its elements shall melt with 
 
 fervent heat ; 
 Expanded thus as Jupiter, magnified some thirteen hundred times 
 Yet with its equipoise unaltered, being in its density the same. 
 Cleansed by that baptism of fire, as once washed clean by water. 
 Made an ethereal palace for holier ransomed creatures, 
 Earth then would thus be large enough, the heritage for all her 
 
 children. 
 Children of every class, the humblest as the highest, 
 Not only man, but all his serfs, degi-aded through his sin, 
 Innocents who yet shall share his blessing in Salvation. 
 
 Comets, enormous and imponderable, spheres of burning vapour. 
 Flying on your fiery track with more than lightning speed. 
 Darted from every point by thousands, mesh of tangled threads 
 Shot from the depths of space, as spinning star to star. 
 Are ye then electric shuttles, weaving warp and woof 
 Of light and life throughout the universe, travelling from suns to 
 planets ? 
 
 Moons, struck off as at a tangent from the sides of new-made worlds, 
 Slumbering, as slept Adam, before his fall came nigh. 
 Are ye not outcast satellites, possibly sad homes for evil. 
 Exiled from those brighter spheres, where good alone may dwell ? 
 The rings that girdle Saturn, the orbs that float round Jupiter, 
 These may be the prisons for the convicts of those worlds : 
 And what then, set aside for us, is yonder globe of cinders, 
 Blistered with heat, or glaciered with cold, on either hideous hemi- 
 sphere, —
 
 h 
 
 OF THE STARRY HEAVENS. 285 
 
 Our lamp of night, our witness to most sin, thefts, and lusts, and 
 
 murders, 
 Our neighbouring shore of burning cones, airless, empty, waterless, — 
 Goddess of the M'orst idolatries, witchcrafts, crimes, and cruelties, 
 Hecate, Asharoth, Diana, our pale and guilty Moon ? 
 May not this be thus the prisonhouse, where evil shall be pent. 
 When, concrete in ill bodies, sin is driven out of Earth ? 
 
 Meteors, — who kncweth, who can guess, your various inexplicable 
 
 natures ? 
 Or, fragments of that shattered world, aerolite morsels of its pro- 
 
 vinces ? 
 Or haply, lava-masses from the mountains of the moon? 
 Or bubble worlds of gas ? or ministering flames of fire ? 
 Or wandering powers of the air ? or young stars shot beyond their 
 
 orbits ? 
 Or strange concretions of matter, collected by atoms on the firma- 
 ment ? 
 Or globes of electric light, fired by an atmospheric touch ? 
 Who knoweth, who can guess? — In beautiful majestic slowness 
 Now, like a moon, a meteor's arch will span the summer sky, 
 Then with a burst of lustre will quench the common starlight, 
 Leaving heaven by contrast black, before our startled eyes ; 
 Now, like a fiery hail across autumnal clouds 
 The meteors rush and crackle, like a sleet of arrows, 
 Or burst on high and hurl below hot masses of strange metal, 
 As shot from lunar mortars, and with thunder of artillery. 
 
 Yea   how lightly by us all are the wonders of the firmament con- 
 sidered ; 
 Marvels every night, by grovelling man unnoted : 
 Yet the most ancient of all books, most read and by all nations 
 Equally and freely as a universal tongue, is yonder starlit heaven. 
 The wise Chaldasan, and the shepherd of Judaea, thought far more 
 
 than we 
 Of what those characters might mean, which God hath writ in suns : 
 They guessed at much we know, and long ago have travelled for 
 
 themselves 
 Among the stars in spirit, as Will might give them wings. 
 And still that silent sermon is preached to us each by night 
 Whispering, come up hither, we can show you wonders.
 
 i 
 
 
 ^. 
 
 286 OF PROBABILITIES. 
 
 Who heedeth? even heeding, who doth not idly gossip names, 
 
 Ursa, Orion, and the Pleiades, nursery tales and figures? — 
 
 Lo, it is the universe thou scannest, half the wealth of God, 
 
 His wisdom, and His power, and where His honour dwelleth, 
 
 Creations inconceivable, exquisitely poised and ordered. 
 
 Full of hallowed harmonies and glorious evermore. 
 
 Worlds to which earth is but a millet-seed, — suns so much vaster 
 
 than our sun 
 That numbers fail to show us of how little count it is : 
 The star we name Alcyone, centre of all these systems, 
 Is a mass as of a hundred million suns, our sun making half a mil- 
 lion earths. 
 Yet, Earth, Avith all its littleness, is the spot which Heaven's King 
 Chose in His infinite humility, to favour as the greatest, 
 Selected for that drama, whereat all the worlds are wondering. 
 Salvation through incarnate God, and glory born of sorrow : 
 And man, poor victim of that sorrow, is yet to be the co-heir of 
 
 that glory, 
 ]\Ieanwhile groping in the dark, and crying like an infant for the 
 
 dawn ; 
 Still, with a mind to rise to God, a tongue to speak His praise, 
 A heart to give Him love for love, a soul to live with Him for ever ! 
 
 OF PROBABILITIES. 
 
 Before all things, God was probable, the first and the greatest 
 
 Probability, 
 One self-existing source of Life, the solitary seed of all creation : 
 That He should be good was probable, for evil tendeth to decay. 
 Neither subsisteth of itself, but is only the corruption of a better : 
 That He should be all mighty, all wise, all merciful, all just. 
 Would be certainties of One Great Good, eternally without com- 
 petitor : 
 Yet would His benevolence forbid a sullen and an isolated oneness. 
 And so a plurality of Persons would be likely in that Essence : 
 Thus taking counsel with Himself, in equal harmonious com- 
 panionship 
 He should, everlastingly beneficent, have willed the happy pre- 
 sence of His peers. 
 
 ^
 
 ^ 
 
 OF PROBAB/LITIES. 28 7 
 
 And these should be Three in one, a Trinity, neither more nor 
 
 fewer, 
 The likeliest number for society, to last as a partnership of friends. 
 It were probable that one name should stand the Primal Father, 
 And that another should be hailed the Everlasting Son, 
 And that the Spirit of these twain, eternally united. 
 Should shine the lightsome living Bond, of God, that Great Triune : 
 Were it more probable that God, a non-affectioned Unit 
 Should choose eternal solitude, unsympathetic Self, — 
 Nor rather elect as His vast happiness a gloriously consorted 
 
 Essence, 
 Equal, in three united Friends who live and love as one ? 
 
 So then, that Grandest Probability, of God and His attributes and 
 
 Persons, 
 Is hinted as an aid to faith, though scarce a proof to doubt. 
 And for that objection in thy thoughts, of some antagonist evil, 
 Some seemingly eternal opposite hindering eternal good, 
 Consider was it probable or not, that creatures be imperfect, 
 Or faultless in perfections, and thus equalled with their Maker ? 
 And if imperfect and allowed free space for worse or better. 
 Better, with grace given from above, or worse, that grace withheld, 
 (Withheld from no caprice, no lack of large Benevolence, 
 But urged by deep good cause for the greater blessing of Creation,) 
 The creature thus might fall, his good might grow corrupted, 
 His powers decayed, his health diseased, his moral brightness 
 
 darkened, 
 And so should sin and evil, concretes not utter abstracts. 
 Cling, as if native parasites, to creatures less than perfect. 
 
 But if a fall were probable, thus from the nature of matter, 
 What were the next high probability expectable from God ? 
 His grace would plan. His skill invent, a scheme of full recovery. 
 Whereby the universe of intellect might learn and love Him bettei; 
 Himself would be the creature. Himself would bear the penalty. 
 Himself, as suffering in that creature, should lift it to Himself. 
 So should He take into His Being, nearer to the Triune Essence, 
 A lost and won Creation, made only all the happier from its grief 
 
 And look to the details of our Fall : death was not first for man ; 
 But reigned in old creations, rcons before Adam. 
 
 
 ^
 
 4- 
 
 OF PROBABILITIES. 
 
 And when the Maker willed, and our gre.-'.t forefather came 
 Full aged monarch of the world, to people and to rule it. 
 The simplest test, an apple, was given for obedience, and he fell ; 
 Yearning for knowledge as for good, the tempted novice failed. 
 And so the second Adam should die that self-same hour, 
 Having lived what the first had overleapt, some thirty years and 
 
 three. 
 There seemed a probability herein that Christ should fdl that sum, 
 Infant, youth and man, antedating full-grown Adam. 
 
 And how should He be born but as of miracle ? and M-herefore 
 
 should not Eve who sinned 
 See honour given to her sex through highly favoured Mary ? 
 It were likely .that God's great grace should glorify transgressing 
 
 woman. 
 Therefore was the Virgin overshadowed by the Spirit of all Life. 
 And how should He die but as of sacrifice? innocent, the con- 
 queror of death, 
 The martyred priest of truth hung between earth and heaven. 
 Preaching there with outstretched arms to angels and to men. 
 Victim to His own great justice, and the outcast of the world. 
 Thus was the Gospel fully probable : and all that ever happened 
 Equally in Providence and grace to the well-enlightened mind 
 Would seem to be probable and fit, neither should have happened 
 
 otherwise ; 
 For God had ordered every mean and certified its end. 
 
 It was likely that a Mahomet should rise, forcing religion by the 
 
 sword. 
 Likely that Rome should graft the papal on the pagan. 
 Likely that a Luther should restore tire purity of faith, 
 Likely that differing sects should slay one another in Jerusalem : 
 That England should be Freedom's refuge, as a distant outpost 
 
 island. 
 And thence should be great among the nations, from her ships, her 
 
 colonies, and commerce ; 
 That hardship should energize the North, that luxury should ener- 
 vate the South, 
 That the East, decaying from old age, should be servant to the 
 
 strong young West ; 
 And that, as a planet by itself, America should grow and prosper
 
 OF SCRIPTURE AND SCIENCE. 289 
 
 Vaster and mightier than all those older dynasties and empires. 
 And so of most things else ; enlightened by their issues, 
 We note them well-foreshadowed in their likelihoods to be : 
 And I judge that a prophet might arise, keen in miassisted reason, 
 Nor needing higher inspiration than a deep-read knowledge of 
 
 mankind, 
 Who might deduce the future from inspection of the past. 
 Gathering from likelihood and cause all consequents to come. 
 
 -^ 
 
 OF SCRIPTURE AND SCIENCE. 
 
 A BOOK of revelation for the fallen, to lead us back to good, 
 (Wherefrom through a thousand generations we all have gone 
 
 astray,) 
 The book that had to speak of God, of souls, and hell, and heaven, 
 In utterance from the pious of all ages, announcing religion and 
 
 redemption. 
 How could it turn from its great end, to deal with trivial things. 
 Our lesser themes of science, the temporal instead of the eternal ? 
 Wherein should we desire for our minds playthings to gladden 
 
 curiosity, 
 And not rather for our hearts the nourishment of spiritual good ? 
 It were beneath the dignity, it were beside the object, 
 It were derogation from the Bible, should it stoop to be the manual 
 
 of science. 
 Moreover, pride is to be humbled, — and knowledge puffeth up ; 
 The loftiness of man must be brought low, by innermost conviction 
 
 and conversion ; 
 Affections grovelling down to earth our God would raise and purify, 
 And cure man's moral cancer by the Gospel of his Love : 
 So then, let Reason not expect, that the grand revelation of Religion 
 Will be liberal in answers to the questions our intellect would ask 
 
 of Nature ; 
 Let us hope it rather rich unto salvation, in thoughts that lead to 
 
 glory, 
 A feast of wine upon the lees for souls who thirst for Grace. 
 
 Yet, whensoever the Great Teacher might touch with His skirts in 
 
 passing 
 The barren sands of science that edge His narrow way,
 
 +• 
 
 4- 
 
 2>jc> OF SCRIPTURE AND SCIENCE. 
 
 He should for morality show truth, not countersigning falsehood, 
 Making it manifest He knoweth, more than he will turn aside to 
 
 tell; 
 Truth, not pedantically exact, — the sun may rise and set, 
 He may speak of the ends of the earth, He may tell of the windows 
 
 of heaven ; 
 But, as in the miracle of Joshua, proving that if earth stood still 
 The moon, not less than the sun, must stop in due obedience to 
 
 that mandate ; 
 Truth, incidentally declaring He hath made the round world so 
 
 strong. 
 Showing earth a sphere self-poised, and not a long flat plain ; 
 He may tell of Adam's race, the redeemed and favoured family, 
 But leave quite unrecorded whether there were other sorts of Man : 
 Moses may teach us in the Genesis how earth was re-established in 
 
 Order, 
 But he need not touch Old Matter, nor the ages of pre-existing life ; 
 These things are written in the stones, for reason at its leisure to 
 
 search out. 
 But what is written in the Book is a searching proper for the spirit : 
 Nature, as pictured on the Bible, is simply recorded ir. appearance, 
 The sun may rejoice to nm his course, the heavens may drop down 
 
 dew ; — 
 Albeit the dew ariseth, albeit the sun stand still. 
 Even a philosopher unblamed will use those common phrases : 
 But ofttimes hints of higher knowledge are dropped as by accident 
 
 in Scripture, 
 Testifying even to this hour that the Bible is before the age. 
 He stretcheth out the north over the empty space, and hangeth the 
 
 world upon nothing ; 
 Here is a glimpse at polar tilts, and their magnetic bearing : 
 We read about rivers of oil, and oil sucked out of the rock, — 
 The latest of discoveries with us, but known to Job and Moses : 
 Behemoth and Leviathan are chronicled, as close in contiguity 
 
 with man ; 
 And many monsters, thought extinct, are now proved his com- 
 panions ; 
 The Mammoth, and possibly the Dragon, that giant lizard of the 
 
 wold, 
 Were S)mchronous with man upon his earth ; so Scripture saith to 
 
 Science ;
 
 OF SCRIPTURE AND SCIENCE. 29 
 
 r-f 
 
 Ancient times nnd peoples of those earliest books of Moses, 
 Giants on the earth in old days, Zamzummim and their like, 
 Hint at possible primal tribes beside our race of Adam, 
 Albeit none have found as yet one bone or stone for proof : 
 The flood that drowned the world of men on Asia's sunny plain, 
 Was not of necessity for Europe, where man was not yet found : 
 The fountains of the deep were broken up ; the foundations of the 
 
 world are out of course ; 
 He changeth the vestures of the globe, by strata laid on strata : 
 In the days of the patriarch Peleg, was not the earth divided, — 
 By continents and islands broken off, according to the old tradi- 
 tions ? 
 He hath weighed the substance of the globe, exactly, as in a 
 
 balance ; 
 Holding it up by His omnipotence, the hollow of His hand : 
 He sitteth on the circle of the world, guiding its career u^wn that 
 
 orbit, 
 And calleth out the stars by name, His worlds. His many mansions ; 
 He recordeth some sweet influence of the Pleiades, — possibly that 
 
 central Throne 
 The wondrous Star Alcyone, round which this universe revolveth : 
 If winged angels are in vision, were they not framed with due 
 
 analogy. 
 Not as painters dream, impossibly fledged and pinioned, 
 But wisely and reasonably too, according to proportions and pro- 
 prieties. 
 With two wings covering the face, to cleave the air therewith, 
 And two wings spread beyond the feet, to steer the course thereby. 
 And two, to speed the flight ; so seen of Isaiah and Ezekiel : 
 Doth not the Preacher when he preacheth, of the wheel broken at 
 
 the cistern, 
 And the pitcher broken at the fountain, and the death of worn-out 
 
 Tell of arteries and veins, and the circulating blood of life. 
 
 The life that is the blood, unguessed for thirty centuries ? 
 
 Who gave England Judah's Lion ? Who appointed eagles for the 
 
 Nations ? 
 Is it not He who hath forewarned this carcase of their gathering 
 
 together ? — 
 Many are running to and fro, and words go very swiftly. 
 And knowledge is increased, is fla-shed as lightning flasheth ; 
 
 4
 
 4- 
 
 292 OF SILENCE. 
 
 AH corners of the earth are being peopled, her rough places are 
 
 made plain, 
 The valleys are exalted, and the very Alps cut through ; 
 We shall fly with wings as eagles, subduing yet the air of our 
 
 globe,— 
 As fire and earth and water are subdued, all being parts of our 
 
 heritage ; 
 And the world shall be one great brotherhood, acknowledged of 
 
 one blood, 
 Freely to buy and to sell, going freely hither and thither, 
 And all shall have one lip, one language, one religion, 
 With tolerance for all creeds, as in Peter's sheet of beasts. 
 Are not these things and their like written in the text-book of the 
 
 saints ? 
 Is not that book M'orthy of all reverence from the sages ? 
 
 •^ 
 
 OF SILENCE. 
 
 Holy Silence, happy Silence, thought-creating Silence, 
 
 Blessed and luxurious Silence, — lo, how scarce thou art ! 
 
 Within, loud turmoil of the spirit, or vexing whispers of the con- 
 science, 
 
 Worrying remembrances of evil, craving aspirations after good ; 
 
 Without, the clamour of the world, of talking men and women. 
 
 And all those material perturbations disturbing our tiny planet- 
 selves, — 
 
 Alas ! how seldom is a man the fortunate anchorite of silence ; 
 
 How rarely can he taste that balm, or listen to that music ! 
 
 In old days great Pythagoras commanded holy silence 
 
 As nurse of all the virtues and the learnings and the loves ; 
 
 Five years his acolytes were dumb^ and only looked their thoughts, 
 
 And then ^ight help the Teacher, vessels full of infused lore : 
 
 Silence was their breeding-time for crystals of the mind ; 
 
 And many would be wiser if they studied thus from Samos : — 
 
 Half the awe of idols lay in mystery of silence ; 
 
 Half the power of priestcraft is cold reticence at will. 
 
 Silence was Pygmalion's love concreted in a statue ; 
 
 Silence was the abstract charm to Zimmerman in solitude. 
 
 Silence strangely melteth down the felon's iron heart ;
 
 OF sile\h:e. 29^ 
 
 Silence to flie Trappist is the mute beside his coffin. 
 How oftentimes is Silence the wisest of replies ! 
 When insolence provoketh, when slander false-accuseth, 
 Wlien ignorance and prejudice are full of idle talk ; 
 Let silence be the answer on thy lip and in thy life. 
 So too, when many praise, as well as when they blame, 
 And when thy name is loudest in the mouths of men, 
 Thy strengtii is to sit still, in wise and humble silence ; 
 Let Silence lay her finger on thine unpresumptuous lip. 
 
 Lo, the vast difference to souls within the spliere of silence I 
 
 That magic ring to one is life, to other nigh to death. 
 
 Innocence tenderly enjoyeth the blessed calm of silence, 
 
 Listening as an infant to its lullaby of peace 
 
 Guilt, terrified at self, abhorreth silent solitude, 
 
 And findetli that sweet music only loud with hideous sound : 
 
 The keen mind, full of thought, rejoiceth in a quiet hour j 
 
 While dullards hold it irksome, to be killed as best they can : 
 
 Health can hear therein only glad hopes and memories ; 
 
 While nervous irritable disease hath peopled it with fears : 
 
 The poet loveth that rare calm, as incense to his spirit ; 
 
 The tattling gossip longeth but to spoil it with his talk. 
 
 To all it is a test of state, bearing to be alone, 
 
 Alone with God and conscience, and the memories of thy life : 
 
 If eager to escape from these, avoid accusing silence ; 
 
 If calm in their communion, thou wilt seek it as thy friend. 
 
 Hast thou kept thine innocency ? are thy memories pure ? 
 
 Is thine that honest and good heart, which The Master loveth? 
 
 Then shalt thou rejoice alway to breathe the balm of silence 
 
 On lonely hills or strolling by the solitary sea. 
 
 Silence strengtheneth love, — innocent and unintended silence, 
 W^hereto do cling excuses and kind fancy pleading well : 
 Silence weakeneth love,— obstinate, guilty silence. 
 Where doubts and fears and thoughts of scorn combine to wean 
 
 the heart. 
 The long-unanswered letter doth friendship nigh to death. 
 And few affections can endure determined dogged silence. 
 And woe, too, for the clamorous home where silence hath no lover, 
 But scolding worry drowneth good, alike by day and night : 
 There is the brawling wife, there are tlie wrangling children, 
 
 ■# 
 
 +
 
 -¥ 
 
 U 
 
 294 OF SILENCE. 
 
 There the tongue's hot embassage provoketh instant strife ; 
 There the sad peace-lover in vain imploreth blessed silence, 
 For all the loves and graces have been scared from that loud home. 
 
 Wise and kind and good are the eloquent Silences of Scripture, 
 For grace is shown in light withheld, not less than in light given. 
 It would have diverted man from God, the one great end of his 
 
 existence, 
 Had he been told too fully of the constant ministry of angels : 
 He would have scorned short Time, in teachings of the past Eter- 
 nity; . 
 And even an awful Future is made lower in importance than the 
 
 Present : 
 He would have been terrified from duties, if tlic spirits of the dead 
 
 had hemmed him round, 
 Or were it to be made his care, to help or serve them in their 
 
 Hades : 
 Curious questions are unanswered with, "What is that to thee?" 
 The simpler, "Follow me," is utterly man's duty. 
 Yet may we speculate and argue, for God hath given us reason, 
 And lights may dawn on Providence, that Scripture had not shown. 
 He biddeth ears to ear. He willeth eyes to see, 
 He is pleased if intelligence search out His workings with humi- 
 lity. 
 The Silences that whisper in earth's caverns to the everlasting hills, 
 The Silences of angels and of ghosts, and of animals with their 
 
 spirits, 
 These deep mysteries are themes that nian may desire to look 
 
 into, 
 Groping through their darkness to feel for hidden truths. 
 The puzzling wonders in creation, mingled good and evil, — 
 Not due to Adam's sin, which bliglUed Adam's race. 
 But longer of old and with innocent tribes, in those past million 
 
 ages 
 After the undateable Beginning and before our week of Cosmos,— 
 Those are in silence till one seeth in these latter days. 
 That all things less than God decay from imperfections. 
 And angels were the labourers, under their great husbandman The 
 
 Son, 
 Toiling for Him with skill and joy, rewarded and applauded ; 
 Each of them brought some organism, when our earth was peopled,
 
 OF SPIRITUAL PRESENCES. 295 
 
 Which He should then infuse with life, and add the curious senses. 
 His artizans were made by Him, and so their works are His ; 
 And truer work have they to do than ever-chaunted hymns ; 
 The ministry of angels is seen in all creation, 
 As well as through our daily walk in teaching and delivering ; 
 And haply each may watch in love over his own blest handywork, 
 For God made all things for Himself, but through His holy angels. 
 These be truths scarce heard, lest utterance breed idolatries, 
 That man may walk with God alone ; and Silence thus is wisdom. 
 
 Speech is silver, Silence gold, according to the Spaniard ; 
 Silence is the pearl, and speech the gaping oyster. 
 Silence is the subtle scent, and speech the smothery smoke ; 
 Silence is the mellow fruit, and speech the million leaves. 
 Some have called her wisdom, as at least concealing folly ; 
 Some have dubbed her more than half the Buddhist's dream oi 
 
 Heaven : 
 Sleep and trance and ecstacy are all near kin to Silence ; 
 And the calm quietude of death is ever-blessed Silence. 
 
 OF SPIRITUAL PRESENCES. 
 
 That there be spirits multitudinous, infinite for differences and 
 
 numbers, 
 Spirits of good and evil, with all their many intermediates, 
 The mischievous, the humorous, the sensual, as well as the pious 
 
 and the wise, — 
 Spirits of sinners as of saints, of idiots, things and animals, — 
 That crowds of these there be, existing somewhere somehow, 
 Most confess, and few deny, recognizing spirit-immortality. 
 As the tree hath fallen, so the limbs must lie ; 
 The bent and scars of time survive and spread for ever : 
 He that is pure becometh purer, he that is mean will yet be meaner, 
 The filthy shall be filthier still, the gracious grow in grace. 
 Spirit never dieth, neither is it merged into its God, 
 For weal or woe a separate life, its Maker's friend or foe : 
 And every inch of space in all earth's nooks and corners, 
 The highest Alpine peaks, as the deepest Ural mines, 
 The caverned halls of the Atlantic, the crowded hives of cities, 
 
 # 
 
 -NW- 
 
 t 
 
 ■«4«-
 
 296 OF SPIRITUAL PRESENCES. 
 
 Every room in every house, every hill and valley, — 
 
 All have teemed with life, and been earth's homes to spirits. 
 
 So then these might claim to revisit each its birthplace, 
 And there re-act the good or ill that chiefly warped its fate : 
 And, if this had been allowed^ the globe would be crowded up 
 
 with spirits, 
 ]\Iultitudes everywhere together, generation jostling generation, 
 Until the commonest experience should be that of meeting ghosts. 
 Mentally recognised and felt, if not also heard and seen ; 
 And such perpetual obstruction to human life and duty, 
 Hindered and every way made void by interfering spirits, 
 Would steal responsibility from man, and make his trial futile. 
 Mingling his career, that should be separate, with the deeds of a 
 
 cloud of ancestors. 
 
 But, there is that Great Gulf fixed ; and none, or few, may pass it ; 
 
 So few, — if any ever passed, — that none is nigh to truth. 
 
 Spirit, once emancipate from flesh, glorying in new-found freedom, 
 
 Speedeth away to some vast orb where only spirits dwell, 
 
 There to await the Resurrection, there to anticipate the judgment, 
 
 There to dream of bliss to come, or dread foreboded pangs, 
 
 There to be happy in self-consciousness, or to be tormented by 
 
 remorse, 
 There, as in God's waiting-hall, to bide His coining verdict. 
 
 Few : — what if such few, allowed for some dread rea^^on. 
 Have overleapt that wide abyss, as messengers from Hades? 
 Or, what if some have never left their scene of life's ordeal. 
 And so may haply have remained, nor need a real returning ? 
 It may be, burdened with dark secrets, harassed by inexpiated 
 
 crimes, 
 A wretched soul hath now and then clung fiercely to its birthplace ; 
 It may be that either of a pair, long joined in happy marriage, 
 Hovereth in deep love about the other, visiting its mate continu- 
 ally : 
 It may be, doting on her child, a mother's ghost hath lingered 
 To guard him, like an angel, from some perilous evil nigh : 
 It may be, rights or wrongs, deeply burnt into the spirit 
 Rfay bring it grovelling back, till full revenge be found : 
 There have been writ such stories ; some have seen strange sights;
 
 OF SPIRITUAL PRESENCES. 297 
 
 Rnockings, voices, sobbings, have disturbed the castle guest ; 
 The long unburied skeleton beneath the murderer's hearth. 
 The flickering lights at midnight in the tapestried oak-chamber, 
 The hurried taps along the -wall, the whispers heard across the bed, 
 The footsteps down the staircase, — nothing seen though closely 
 
 followed,^ 
 The wail forewarning death, that time-worn family presage 
 Accomplishing its own sure end through superstitious fear, — 
 The spectral faces in old mirrors, the gallery paced by its proces- 
 sion. 
 The murders and tlie treasures, and the wrongs revealed by 
 
 ghosts, — 
 Such strange tales are rife ; and fancy, with imposture, 
 Hath multiplied these terrors to the credulous and cowardly : 
 Yet, some few cases, — few, if any, — calmly well-attested. 
 Have staggered shrewdest doubters, and compelled our sceptic 
 
 faith : 
 Here and there, we may have had revisitants from Hades, 
 Now and then, some spirit may have lingered long on earth : 
 There be many things undreamt of our philosophy, as the chief 
 
 Poet hath declared, 
 Which natheless may be truths and facts about that world of spirits ; 
 And seers must stand well prepared, through some magnetic fitness ; 
 The unsealed eye, the common ear, perceiveth not such presences : 
 But, as all ordinary law ruleth by regular appointment. 
 Which nothing less than God's own hand may alter as through 
 
 miracle. 
 So it is only by a miracle, to be evidenced with rare cautions. 
 That ever spirit hath been left to do some work on earth. 
 That ever disembodied ghost was troubled about burial. 
 That ever any soul of man hath leapt that Great Gulf fixed. 
 
 Next, for tlie mystery of dreaming, — meet we spirits there? 
 
 Or find we not that same Great Gulf, we may not pass, nor they? 
 
 Sleep is the merciful relaxing, unstringing of the vital bow, 
 
 A loosing of the harpsichords, alike for mind and body. 
 
 Whereby they drain, through rest, from the harmonies of nature 
 
 round them. 
 Both tunefulness and energy to sing their hymn of life : 
 And dreams are as the dews, uprising out of memories, 
 \^aporous clouds upsteaming from the marshes of the mind, 
 
 -^
 
 2o8 OF SPIRITUAL PRESENCES. 
 
 Now tinged by setting Fanc}', and roseate with sweet thoughts, 
 Now rendered gloomy through regrets, or terrible from conscience. 
 
 Every day is closed as by its death, when we wrap us in the 
 
 winding-sheet of sleep, 
 Every night our spirits expand, as partially disfranchised from the 
 
 body ; 
 It is a foreshadowing of the future, sleep the type of death, 
 And dreams suggesting to the soul its coming good or evil : 
 Our dull fatigued material lieth in a breathing dissolution, 
 "While immaterial essence wandereth hither and thither ; 
 Sometimes, in old scenes of earth, curiously mingled with the pre- 
 sent, 
 Sometimes, fashioning the future, wildly and discoloured by the past, 
 Sometimes — (as some think) — hovering with sister spirits. 
 Met in visionary worlds that vanish ere the morning : 
 None remember, and no one may declare, what passeth in those 
 
 dreams ; 
 Only their influences remain, with hints when just awaking : 
 We cannot win them back, nor coax their perished presence ; 
 The consciousness of work-day life to them is instant banishment : 
 Often have we, all in vain, endeavoured so to stay them ; 
 Eut the world-element of wakefulness scattered all those shadows ; 
 Quickly fade they, soon forgotten, wreaths of mist in sunshine, 
 And rare is any record of them figured on the light. 
 Haunted by dark fancies, by sweet reveries refreshed. 
 The waking spirit ill remembereth aught but peace or trouble : 
 And it hath accorded with my musings, that some second life 
 Separate, continuous, and reasonable, is the condition of sleeping ; 
 Separate, as with other accidents, faces, scenes, and circumstances ; 
 Continuous, night after night, with special past and future ; 
 Reasonable, after its own sort, though little led by judgment ; 
 And conscious, as through habit, of some sense of right and wrong : 
 With the body's waking, that other life vanisheth away. 
 Gradually builded up again, with the body's slumbering. 
 Neither is reality more strong for scenes and pains and pleasures 
 Than in their keen ideals, born of sleep and dreams by night. 
 Often in the mediate condition, half sleeping and half waking. 
 We doubt within ourselves which of the twain is truest, 
 This work-day world of matter, with its real and hard experiences, 
 Or that the spirits' sabbath, free from worry, fear, and care :
 
 OF SPIRITUAL PRESENCES. 299 
 
 This so looketh like a dream, that so showeth a reahty, 
 Either seemeth other, as a sort of double life. 
 Whether in the body, or out of the body, — who shall truly tell ? 
 For the mysteries of sleep are deep, in dreams and mental travel. 
 
 O rare kingdom of the mind, by space and time unbounded, 
 Where one may live a lifetime within a single night, 
 And seem to speed on spirit-wings beyond this humble planet. 
 And happily expand in light, as blossoming elsewhere, — 
 
 pure realms of thought, how few in all earth's millions 
 Can claim to reign ideal kings above your vast domain ! 
 
 Who hath known the spirit of a man, or how he fareth in his dreams, 
 Or wherein the experience of one is tallied by another's ? 
 
 1 know a mind conscious in itself of two clear states of being, 
 The one with all its accidents in wakefulness, the other with its 
 
 qualities in sleep : 
 Day by day continuously, the history of its common life is one ; 
 Night by night continuously, alike there is its unity of dreams : 
 Ilaply, the chambers of the brain, each with its special occupant. 
 Fancy, judgment, form, muric, love, contention, 
 Sink to natural rest in sequence one by one. 
 Closing the windows of their house, in some alternate order : 
 Thus, while earthly talents gradually sink to slumber, 
 The native genius of the spirit waketh up spontaneously in dreams. 
 There is then the life of cultivation, social, normal, temporal ; 
 And there is the life of intuition, spiritual, strange, and individual : 
 Each hath a separate experience, yet is there but one spirit. 
 As if it lived, by day or niglit, at home in different rooms. 
 Rarely have I heard from others, never have I known myself 
 That any disembodied soul hath come to earth in dreams ; 
 Fancy pictureth the dead, affection listeneth to their voices. 
 But all thou hearest, all thou seest, grew of thine own brain. 
 
 Lastly, for the ministry of angels : doubtless, these be sent : 
 Shrewdly the good centurion proved their frequent presence. 
 When this our world was born, newly rolling out of chaos, 
 (Chaos, an old ruin of past ages, no firstling of the God of order,) 
 What was your mission, happy angels, when thus ye sang for joy? 
 Were ye then nothing but the minstrels, the choristers and bards 
 
 of Heaven ? 
 Verily, beside and beyond your exquisite soul-harmonies in music. 
 
 ^
 
 ^OD OF Sri RITUAL PRESENCES. 
 
 Ye may have worshipped as artificers, intelligently taught of God, 
 Moulding lower works, exquisite in microscopic beauty, 
 Which He then quickened into life and signed with His own signet. 
 Wisdom and mercy well enjoined some special toil to each, 
 Some insect, or some flower, some crystal, seed, or shell ; 
 Suffering His servants as co-workers, bringing tribute-offerings, 
 The children's gifts to God their Father, on that His new-world's 
 
 birthday. 
 And as ye worked in Eden, ye may since have watched on earth 
 Those darlings of your skill His blessing made so perfect. 
 Present yourselves, though all unseen, in woods and fields and 
 
 valleys, 
 And everywhere rejoicing in the works He praised so well. 
 
 And as our ministering spirits, doing the Master's bidding, 
 The Great King's happy soldiers, obeying His command. 
 Whether ye be Cherubim, or Seraphim, or names of light unknown, 
 O pure and precious essences, ten thousands of ten thousands, — 
 How happily we think of you for help, in time of doubt or trial. 
 How tenderly ye watch, and guide, and whisper — go this way ! 
 Those among you highest under God, brightest and first of the 
 
 creation, 
 Embodied crystals of His attributes, and purest of His works, 
 Ever in the sunshine of His presence. Archangels (named in heaven 
 The strength of God, the joy of God, His wisdom, love, and truth) 
 How gladly we remember that, as Gabriel, or Michael, 
 Ye ministered to Mary, and to Abram, and to Christ ; 
 How thankfully we hope that humbler i-anks of angels 
 Defend salvation's common heirs from danger and from sin ! 
 Yet is there never an appearance ; spiritually, invisibly. 
 Through the listening heart and mind, oft in prayer and watching, 
 Thus not fighting against reason, nor constraining circumstance, 
 Ye do lead and teach and guard, and stand our spirit-friends, 
 Amen ! we yield to your suggestions ; Amen ! we lean upon your 
 
 arms, — 
 And feel no fear and no distrust but you will help us well. 
 So, not worshipping but honouring, as we honour friends, 
 Our fellowship is, under God, with ministering spirits.
 
 ^- 
 
 OF TIME. 301 
 
 OF T I I^r E. 
 
 A LITTLE while, a little while, — we know not what He meaneth, — 
 
 So much to lose, so much to gain, — all in this little while ! 
 
 How strange a mystery is this, that the changeable should fix for 
 ever, 
 
 That the perishable seaflower should last, eternally crystallised in 
 
 silex : 
 A little while, a little space, a little chance and power. 
 Resulting yet in marvel, and everlasting strength ; 
 So we creep on our way, faint and darkling to the last, 
 And then emerge in brightness, and yearningly expand to freedom. 
 Be it a month, or fourscore years, life is but a short swift season ; 
 A cradle, or the cincture of the world, would be equally a prison 
 
 to the soul. 
 Just as one hath learned to cull a little wisdom, 
 Humbleness with confidence in self, courage, tenderness, religion. 
 Frankness, purity of life, health and cleanliness and silence. 
 Patience and hearing other sides, and charity with excusing, 
 Just as we have gained at last, through trial and experience. 
 Power to live more simply, more truly, and more wisely, 
 The bell tolletli, and \\'<t go, obeying the behest of Heaven, 
 The Master calleth and we come, to carry our life elsewhere : 
 O the vanity, the dignity, the wocfulness, the happiness of life — 
 
 many thoughts about this theme, wherein we all have part. 
 
 No man is safe until his death : Tellus the Athenian spake shrewdly 
 
 There is no staying in one stay, no certainty in life. 
 
 As wave succeedeth wave, passion foameth over passion. 
 
 One shall scarce be overcome, when another pusheth on to combat : 
 
 The prodigal, hardly cured, catcheth the leprosy of avarice ; 
 
 The wanton pleasure-hunter, chastened, falleth into cruelties of rage : 
 
 1 have known strict moralities in youth issue in the old man's mean- 
 
 ness ; 
 I have known the dissolute and prodigal change to the generous 
 
 and pious : 
 For each was but one phase, of its own peculiar character, 
 Shewn in different lights, the polarised and common ; 
 Youth hath rare prismatic tints, but hard old age few beauties ; 
 And nature's primal outburst is tamed and toned by years. 
 The best are ever in most peril, save for grace and habit.
 
 *■ 
 
 2 OF TIME. 
 
 As strung and tuned more exquisitely in the key of passion. 
 None is ever safe ; though mercy, circumstance, and custom 
 Be the triple wall around some David or Josiah, 
 Honour, sentiment, or feeling, may tempt to fatal sin ; 
 And the one potency against it, is faithful humble prayer. 
 Oftentimes the young man holdeth on, pure in his earliest course. 
 Resisting temptation as it riseth, and wrestling down proclivities 
 
 of nature ; 
 I have watched him safe to manhood, — then through evil weakness 
 He hath turned aside, and is fallen ; his prime and age are marred ! 
 And often some poor youths, dissolute and shameless at the first, 
 Are checked betimes and sorrowful, anon through grace repentant : 
 These penitents in age, as that once saint in boyhood. 
 Let all be humble for the present, culling wisdom from the past,— 
 All, out of God, are insecure ; all shall stand or fall. 
 As mercy willeth, not unsought : and none is safe alone. 
 
 Wherefore is there always such a charm to the pure and thoughtful 
 
 spirit 
 In ancient things, and times of old, and all the hoary past? 
 That the cromlech and the ruin and the coin have a sort of nimbus 
 
 round them, 
 A hallowing kind of halo as in reverence to their age ? 
 Wherefore is the very rust and moss counted for the bloom of 
 
 beauty, 
 And homage rendered simply to the veritable antique ?— 
 One of the attributes of God is deep and indefinite antiquity, 
 And all His characters are dear to Reason's purest thought : 
 He, as the Ancient of Days, antedateth all past time, 
 Therefore with intuitive desire His creatures emulate that attribute. 
 
 Time is a speck on Space, a cork in the boundless ocean, 
 
 A bubble floating lightly, about the eternal universe. 
 
 Which is an illimitable sphere, and existences its circumambient 
 
 surface. 
 And God the centre of convergence, and the radii His ever-present 
 
 powers : 
 And whenever it commenced, our cosmos must have burst in sud- 
 denly, 
 Cutting the circle with abruptness, and breaking its continuous 
 circumference.
 
 ^. 
 
 OF ThME. J03 * > 
 
 The absolute bcgimiing of crcalion must seem to have had relative 
 
 beginnings ; 
 As if recording life before, which had not really lived : 
 The tree created had its rings, as if of ancient seasons, 
 The very seed newborn, was germed as from a parent, 
 The lion bounding in his might, gave evidence of former years, 
 And Adam at his prime, appeared to prove his childhood. 
 The butterfly argued a chrysalis, a caterpillar, an egg. 
 The fruitful soil of Eden showed old strata decomposed, 
 Its first day, born in Autumn, spake of previous spring and summer, 
 Its light from distant stars had travelled millenaries down. 
 Yet, none of these had pre-existed ; neither did the God of Truth 
 Suffer seeming falsehood on His works, albeit He made them thus : 
 For by His word, distinctly, the fiat of creation was proclaimed. 
 All things ready at their best, with fruit after their kind. 
 Whenever Creation was begun, it must have entered in its panoply, 
 Perfect in results as of the past, in order to be perfect in this pre- 
 sent : 
 And the God of eternal truth, willing to save reason's doubting. 
 Simply revealeth in The Word, — all firsts were at perfection : 
 Therefore, rich in seeds ; therefore with apparent testimony 
 To some previous generation, condensed in His quick fiat. 
 Short of eternity for matter, the only rest for reason 
 Is this temporal creation, with thus its riddles solved : 
 The Almighty caused a present, born momentarily at will, 
 To seem, not needfully to be, the growth of older pasts ; 
 And then to spare our faith all doubts about His truthfulness. 
 Grandly maketh proclamation, — the creature at its best. 
 This cleareth up the mystery, this answereth reason's question ; 
 God's word expoundeth His works, even as His works His word. 
 
 He that dreameth of a monad, that all evolved thereout. 
 
 Assumed the Maker of this monad, framer of a microscopic cosmos ; 
 
 Place it far back in old eternity, still its birth was temporal, 
 
 Only the vaster marvel, if one atom-seed ; 
 
 But no wholesome mind can bear with such a folly, 
 
 Choosing the touch of a creator at some riper date. 
 
 Wherefore not a macroscopic cosmos? Minuteness magnifieth 
 
 miracle : 
 Even if beneath Omnipotence all things were not equal. 
 .Vt its best God's World-idea rolled out in teeming beauty,
 
 4- ^ 
 
 ^ 304 OF LITTLE PROVIDENCES. i 
 
 Involving apparent preparations, as of years long past: 
 
 But possibly the times of non-intelligence were hastened to give 
 
 man his heritage, 
 And needed not the million ages our slow growths demand. 
 Worshippers of some new sort, freewilled, reasonable, fallible, 
 Were wanted at the Court of God, to illustrate His name, 
 To show true attributes in Heaven, solely to be seen through sin, 
 As colours in light are proved, only by the spectrum to distort 
 
 them : 
 Therefore this fabric of the world might well be hurried up to man, 
 To quell the great expectancy, by clumping up those ages. 
 We are at the climax of the periods, we sum up long aeons ; 
 All the ancient chaos of the world resulted in man's era ; 
 And our mundane life is, as it were an egg, a seed, 
 To bring forth Reason's fruit, in time, for immortality. 
 
 OF LITTLE PROVIDENCES. 
 
 Hast thou not noted, O my brother, how carefully thy steps are 
 
 guided, — 
 How tenderly when thou dost well, — how sternly, doing ill ; 
 W'hat instant recompense or penalty, for duties or transgressions, 
 Just judgment even here, in due reward and punishment? 
 Hast thou not watched upon thy way the myriad little matters 
 Proving to thee everywhere that Providence is nigh, 
 Guiding, according to the covenant, ordered in all things and sure, 
 And making circumstances work together for thy good ? 
 Infinitely great, infinitely little, infinite for past and future. 
 Everything is infinite around us, infinite alike within us. 
 There are globes of an immensity so vast, that earth is but a mole- 
 cule beside them, 
 And spores of invisible fernseed are worlds of sensitive life. 
 What is man, that Thou art mindful of limi? Behold, he is an 
 
 atomy of dust 
 Dropt for a moment on a spot, that is but as a molehill to the 
 
 mountains. 
 Himself a microscopic world, each man infinitely wondrous. 
 With a past of preparations none have guessed, a future of evolve- 
 ments none can calculate. 
 
 ii
 
 OF LITTLE PROVIDENCES. 305 
 
 Thou art as a nolhing to tlie universe, yet even thy tlioughts are 
 
 registered ; 
 Thou wanderest hither and thither, but every step is ordered ; 
 Thou goest as in freeness of thy \vt11, yet Providence is ever on the 
 
 way, 
 Beautifully guiding and preventing, inlaying the Mosaic of thy life. 
 All things hang together, causes facts and consequents ; 
 Nothing but hath had its seed, and yet shall yield its fruit : 
 Thou mayest take small heed, thou hast counted it a chance, 
 But that which now hath flowered, groweth on old roots ; 
 The egg was laid long years agone, before yon eagle in the clouds ; 
 The word was uttered in thy youth, that made this friend or foe. 
 
 If for the climax of Eternity there seem vast telescopic ends, 
 
 Through Time, minutely running, flow the microscopic means, — 
 
 All things leavening up in mass, all converging to a focus, 
 
 And every thread and every ray a miracle of care ; 
 
 A miracle of mercy too, unless thy folly scorn it \ 
 
 A miracle of wisdom, whatever be thy tliought. 
 
 Sometimes, glimmering in the darkness, we note that shadowy 
 
 Hand, 
 Sometimes catch a glitter of the golden thread 
 Showing its light as a spider's clue, through our caverned labyrinths, 
 And always safely leading, if we will not let it go. 
 The little hints of Providence are dropped as millet seed, 
 To crackle as we tread, and guide our darkling steps : 
 The thought, not yet on our lips, swift uttered by a friend, 
 The scene, pressed upon the mind, and present through a seeming 
 
 accident. 
 Even the pattern on a carpet, even the paper of a room. 
 The right man casually met, the curious coincidence of matters. 
 The fruits to-day is gathering from plantings of old yesterdays. 
 The finding out, how often, — that strangers have part-lot with us, 
 Mixt with our past, joined to our present, and promising or threat- 
 ening our future, — 
 The mysteries and histories in words, the wonderful properties of 
 
 numbers. 
 The wit and apposite energy in jokes, puns, anagrams, and riddles. 
 All tell of unconsidered providences, ordering and working every- 
 where. 
 And waiting for the mind of man to note perfection in them. 
 
 U 
 
 4
 
 ^ 
 
 , -^ 
 
 306 OF LITTLE PROVIDENCES. 
 
 The glory of God is in the highest, His glory is also in the lo\Yest, 
 Guiding the worlds in their courses, and piloting the thistledown 
 
 not less ; 
 He rideth on the wings of the storm, He lingereth in the perfume 
 
 of a lily, 
 He mouldeth the iceberg, and the Alp, and the atoms of a dust 
 
 cloud in the desert : 
 He that reared Jorullo, the burning Mexican mountain, 
 Twelve thousand feet in a night, one hundred years ago, 
 The same Hand exquisitely layeth, in tesselated microscopic beauty, 
 The rainbowed roofs and pavements within the mouths of snails : 
 He that raised up a Timour, or a C^sar, for judgment on the 
 
 nations, 
 Sitteth beside the school-child, as she singeth at her sampler ; 
 He that inspired Adam's tongue, to give fit names to creatures, 
 Ordained its rustling chirrup to the cricket on the hearth. 
 
 There Is an intricate perfection, a minute fitness and completeness 
 
 In everything about us. Providence, Grace, and Nature : 
 
 All marvellously guided at every inch and instant, 
 
 Circumstances, laws, and elements, animate beings or inanimate ; 
 
 Music, numbers, and mechanics, grammar, art and science, 
 
 All, however human, showing sparks of the divine ; 
 
 Even the plays upon words, the witty turns of converse, 
 
 Declare superior wisdom lying hidden in their mirth ; 
 
 Majesty, shorn of its externals, is it but a jest,— or something more? 
 
 While Nelson's name proclaimed from birth his honour from the 
 
 Nile. 
 He that numbereth the stars, hath numbered the hairs of thy head. 
 No sparrow, and no dynasty, falleth without our Father : 
 The little and the great are His, the ludicrous even as the grave, 
 Ay, and the evil as the good ; for, evil is but good corrupted : 
 This is the mystery of mysteries ; and where to draw the line? 
 He is all-power and all-love, yet thus permitting misery ; 
 He is the mover in all life, alike in sinner as in saint ; 
 He blasteth in the pestilence, even as He blesseth in the sunshine : 
 All we are sure of, as in faith, is that He worketh righteousness ; 
 How, we see not now : but we shall know hereafter. 
 
 4-
 
 OF SUCCESS. 307 
 
 OF SUCCESS 
 
 Of old, men worshipped Good Success, — made good by its suc- 
 ceeding ; 
 And now they worship nothing, but go wondering at Success : 
 The altar is not built, and the incense is not burnt. 
 But he that hath succeeded is, in spite of wrong, a hero : 
 They ask not how, nor why ; Success is answer wholly, — 
 The how of sin and why of shame, are nought if one succeedeth. 
 And in their profanity they judge, that facts are coins of Providence, 
 As stamped by God's authority, and issued in His name ; 
 But wrongs, though facts, must not be held such darlings of His 
 
 mind, 
 He giveth those no mintmark, though the forgers pass them freely. 
 The Providence of God is throned on high above all facts : 
 Facts do not evidence His will, but oftener His forbearance. 
 A fact, a great success, may be a sin or fault or folly ; 
 God never wrought a wrong, in Nature Providence or Grace. 
 Laws once good may warp, and bend to evil issues, 
 But their corruption is a charge not to be laid on Providence : 
 True, He permitteth and is silent ; wickedness awhile may prosper ; 
 But none may claim for Providence a fact of crime or shame. 
 Nation riseth against nation, both thus punished for their sins, 
 And athletes baiter athletes, while Justice looketh on, — 
 And victory will be given to the strongest, not for the conqueror's 
 
 deserts. 
 But, simpler so, because the weak had earned this crushing judg- 
 ment. 
 In vain ye chaunt Te Deum : He loveth not such praises, 
 He stood aside and suffered, and His hand was not stretched out. 
 Yet, the dread penalty shall fall, the meed for wrong successful. 
 For nations are as persons, and are judged for that they do, — 
 And " cursed be the man that moveth his neighbour's landmark," 
 Shall ban conflicting peoples for those murders and those thefts. 
 This is their day for triumph, but judgment cometh with the morrow, 
 Woe unto the wrong-doer, his crimes — are millstones round his neck. 
 Nothing can sanctify a sin, not even great success, 
 And unrepented sin is punished in a nation by its ruin. 
 
 Wouldest thou make enemies. Succeed ; thou humblest many rivals ; 
 Envy, hatred, malice, shall dog thy great career ; 
 
 ■^ 
 
 ^
 
   
 
 yf 
 
 308 OF SUCCESS. 
 
 And failing:, those are not thy friends ; thy sin hath been ambition, 
 
 And having missed the prize thyself, they mock at thee for spite. 
 
 Wouldest thou find friends. Succeed ; the crowd love hero-worship ; 
 
 And of those worshippers are some whose hearts are worth the 
 winning : 
 
 Also, the generous of thy rivals will be friends to cheer thee for suc- 
 cesses ; 
 
 And such be souls of noblest mark, friends whom the good can love. 
 
 O Success ! wliat a triumph to be safe, in view of all those perils ; 
 
 O Success ! what a happiness within, remembering those enemies 
 without ; 
 
 O Success ! if linked with pride and selfishness, how evil : 
 
 O Success ! how great a good, well won and humbly worn. 
 
 Hast thou once succeeded, — hast thou hit the gold? 
 
 Take heed thou tempt not fortune, — she may turn her wheel and 
 
 leave thee : 
 Prudence whispereth, forbear; but energy answereth prudence — 
 Success shall never be the drag to check my flying chariot • 
 Often is tliere seen the youth, diligent rather than ambitious, 
 Stopt short in early mid career by soon achieved success : 
 The prize, the class, the local praise, have satisfied his yearning ; 
 His mind is not moulded of the highest, seeing thus he feareth 
 
 for his fame ; 
 Selfish glories have been gained, he will risk nothing further ; 
 And so that prudent whisper helped both indolence and pride. 
 Early fruit is seldom followed by a second crop ; 
 That precocious tree is shadowed by its hedge of laurels. 
 But if a mind be vigorous, and love not its own glory. 
 The tree shall strike root downward, and shoot its branches upward. 
 And leaving those young days, and all that hedge of laurels. 
 Will dare again to fling out fruits, and tempt a new success : 
 It is more generous so to dare : and lo, those fruits are better. 
 Riper, richer to the taste, than in its first young days. 
 
 Alas ! the many yearning souls that never won Success 
 And yet have well deserved to win, for diligence and merit. 
 Alas, the gems unprized, — alas, the flowers ungathered^ 
 Alas, the disappointed hopes, the spirits broken down ! 
 This seemeth bitter to thy tongue, but it may be sweetness in thy 
 stomach, 
 
 f^
 
 OF THE SMALLER MORALS. 309 
 
 Failure i.s Success to thee, if thou couklst read all truth. 
 
 Take comfort in the happy thought that thou art guided wisely ; 
 
 Thy duty is to well-deserve that unachieved Success. 
 
 Courage ! — try once more ; remember Palissy the Potter ; 
 
 Remember Bruce, six times o'erthrown, and conqueror in the 
 
 seventh ; 
 Remember Joseph in his prison, soon all Egypt's ruler ; 
 Remember Christ upon His Cross, — did lie not seem .0 fail? 
 Never yet was Great Success, but it commenced with Failure,— 
 Smoke is first and then the flame : and chaos before cosmos : 
 Night preceded day ; it is written, the evening and the morning ; 
 Seeds lie long in darkness, and their flowering is not yet : 
 Only strive, only deserve ; and fear not thou a Failure ; 
 Courage and constancy be thine, and thine shall be Success. 
 
 OF THE SMALLER MORALS. 
 
 Keep the ten commandments with thy might, and do all highest 
 
 duties ; 
 But also pay thy lesser tithes of anise, mint and cummin : 
 Honest, pure, contented, kindly, true, religious, 
 Serving God, and loving man, — be these all thine at best : 
 But heed thou also humbler things, the trifles of thy life. 
 For life is filled with trifles, and they may not be despised. 
 IMuch of happiness is missed through mere neglect of trifles, 
 Much of good-doing destroyed, for lack of tact and manner. 
 And godly men have erred in this contempt for taste and beauty. 
 By vulgar freedom driving high-bred souls away : 
 O the mass of meannesses, of harsh ungenial acts, 
 Scarce short of sin as shorn of grace, whereof some saints are 
 
 guilty- 
 Saints, as men may taunt them, and who thus would style them- 
 selves, 
 But oftener chiefs of sinners as regard the smaller morals. 
 Selfish, inconsiderate, illiberal, and vain. 
 Can any such be saints indeed, — or hypocrites at heart '> 
 And some there be, protesters against pampering of the flesh, 
 Separating cleanliness from godliness, who hold it holy to be 
 
 filthy : 
 But He who bade the heart be sprinkled from an evil conscience, 
 
 4
 
 4 i 
 
 ^310 C/^ TJ/£ SMALLER MORALS. 
 
 Gave a simultaneous command, that the body should be washed 
 
 in pure water ; 
 From the crown of the head to the sole of the feet ; keep this 
 
 small moral daily ; 
 It shall be life and strength to thee, the cheapest of good comforts, 
 
 A sound mind in a sound body, is the blessedness of creatures ; 
 So spake the wise of old, and we cannot mend their wisdom. 
 And chief, for the sound mind ; to pass by highest morals — 
 Quiet conscience, hopes to come, and diligence in duty, — 
 Guard thou these lesser matters : never nurse regrets ; — 
 For sins, repent, forsake ; for chances lost, forget them : 
 Take thy cup as it is mixed ; accept thy lot with patience ; 
 Count all things sent of Providence, that are not shame or wrong: 
 Many have killed their comforts by saddening reveries ; 
 Regrets are weakness, folly, grief ; spunge all regrets away. 
 Never worry for the future ; as never bewail the past ; 
 Trust in God ; for, day by day. He giveth daily bread ; 
 Thy fears may never come to head, thy carefulness is vanity, 
 And all thou gainest by distrust is loss of peace of mind. 
 Never delay about the present ; duties are all nows, — 
 Do that thou hast to do at once, and rid thee of its care. 
 The letter left unanswered is a petty thorn of thought ; 
 Occasion once neglected may not visit thee again : 
 Things to be done, once done, are flung behind for ever. 
 And hinder not our onward way, nor vex us with their coming ; 
 Cheerfully, diligently, reasonably, work the work before thee, 
 Abjuring all those lesser sins, regret, distrust, delay. 
 
 Next, after health of mind, study health of body ; 
 
 Each man is his best physician as to meats and drinks. 
 
 All excess is bad ; abstinence, as intemperance ; 
 
 Gluttony is evil, — and starvation ; the ascetic sinneth as the epicure. 
 
 Eat thankfully, drink cheerfully, both in moderation ; 
 
 And let thine appetite survive its temperate repast. 
 
 Against ill dreams by night, and aches and pains by day. 
 
 Guard good health from heat and cold and wet and sudden changes ; 
 
 A little care, a little sense, shall save thee bitter trouble ; 
 
 It is no petty moral to preserve thy body's health. 
 
 * 
 
 Then, after prudent self-attentions, for the inner man and outer, 
 
 ■^
 
 OF THE SMALLER MORALS. 311 
 
 Regard the happiness of others, a.id so be happier thyself. 
 
 Have a merry word for every child, a gentle word for all depen- 
 dents ; 
 
 A frank word for every man, a courteous \\'ord for every woman. 
 
 Speak kindly to thy horse and dog, that serve thee well and love 
 thee ; 
 
 And bid the carman grease this wheel, or shift that galling buckle. 
 
 Spare the snail thy foot might crush, and save the drowning fly, 
 
 And shew the meanest thing alive that thou art like its God. 
 
 Drop a good word genially and shrewdly between contentious 
 neighbours. 
 
 And, with discreet knight errantry, help and defend the right. 
 
 Crown every passing day with some good action daily, 
 
 And add to this the frequent prayer, unheard of all but Heaven, 
 
 And add to these the happy thoughts recorded on thy tablets. 
 
 And so redeem the time in little matters as in great. 
 
 For other smaller morals ; pay quickly that thou owest ; 
 The needy tradesman is made glad by such considerate haste. 
 Pay duly also those other petty debts, the letter, or the visit, or t!it 
 
 gift; 
 
 lUs always happiest to be just ; and wiser so to rivet up young 
 
 friendships. 
 For mirthful times, exaggeration is the soul of wit. 
 At others, speak plain truth ; but blurt not out a secret. 
 From eye and ear and tongue and touch and thought reject all 
 
 lewdness ; 
 A poisonous double-savour will corrupt the sweetest spikenard. 
 Watch temper ; evil temper is the commonest sin, 
 And many perish through that sin, unscathed by grosser crime : 
 Yet temper is in some a peevish habit of ill-health ; 
 Let diet be its petty cure, as animal perverseness. 
 Trust men, and let them know it ; they shall never cheat thee ; 
 But if thou show suspicions, they will use thee as they can. 
 Be not eager for a bargain, mindful of its starving worker, — 
 O the feverish hands of want that wrought this rich brocade ! 
 Smite not thy neighbour in the dark, nor stab him in the back ; 
 Speak thine accusing openly, and hear ere thou condemn him. 
 Hide what is ugly and offensive, taught by the modesty of nature ; 
 Conceal defects for charity ; and cover up small faults. 
 Respect the religion of a man, whatever be his creed, — 
 
 ■4- 
 
 \
 
 312 OF RHYME AND RHYTHM. 
 
 Reverencing even superstition, if it seem both harmless and sincere. 
 Keep justice, keep generosity, yielding to neither singly ; 
 And follow each good impulse, but with reason by its side. 
 Consider, the Christian is a Gentleman ; and all that becometh 
 
 gentle blood 
 Is thine of privilege and right, thine honourable vocation : 
 Thou shalt be delicate, and true, chivalrous, calm, courageous. 
 Exhaling a sweet perfume from the garden of thy graces, 
 That yieldeth fragrant flowers, rooted in the sturdy decalogue, 
 And veiling under beauty's mask the skeletons of life. 
 
 OF RHYME AND RHYTHM. 
 
 Herein is a deep mystery of Language, a mystery that none hath 
 
 solved, 
 A mystery that few consider, and no book noteth down : 
 IIow came it that for fifty centuries, of reasonable Man upon this 
 
 earth, 
 Speaking, singing, writing, full of love and music, 
 No one, till nine centuries ago, thought upon the melodies of rhyme, 
 No poet woke its echo, and no lover worked its charm ? 
 How happened it that all the seers of old, psalmists and chief mu- 
 sicians, 
 The lyrist with his amatory song, the bacchanal shouting Evoe, 
 Choruses pacing out their measures, in cadence with their words. 
 And all that either tragedy, or comedy, hath breathed in perfect 
 
 rhythm, 
 Never, — but by scarce accident, utterly unnoticed and unfelt, — 
 Rose to the high harmony of rhyme, or fell into the pleasantries of 
 
 jingle. 
 Go to Isaiah or to Job, to Moses Deborah or David, — 
 Search throughout Hesiod and Homer, Bion Theocritus and 
 
 Moschus, 
 Ask of Pindar, Aristophanes, .Eschylus, Sophocles, Euripedes, 
 Even of Anacreon and Sappho, Horace Ovid and Tibullus, 
 Virgil and Lucretius and Martial, Catullus Juvenal and Persius, 
 Is there one of them who guessed, what magic lingereth in Rhyme; 
 Did any of those lyric chiefs dream of this new glory ? 
 
 Think with what added sweetness, Horace miglit have wooed his 
 Lyd ia, 
 
 ■^
 
 OF RHYME AND RHYTHM. 313 
 
 Or Lesbia and her sparrow, have charmed us, in rhymed song ; 
 Wilh what electric force, TyrtD2US would have roused the phalanx, 
 And how the Dorian verses should have echoed in the hills : 
 How, pointed sharper by a rliyme, old Martial's epigrams had 
 
 bitten. 
 How pastoral bucolic strains had sounded with sweet endings : 
 Verily, strange it scemeth, that with tongues soricli in similarities, 
 Where every tense, and case, and mood, is normally alike. 
 No one, through all ages, thought of the gamut of language, 
 But only I'ang the changes on its times and not its tones. 
 And stranger still it seemeth, that none have noted this strangeness, 
 That scholiasts, commentators, teachers, overlook it all ; 
 I wot not where to seek, for one who saw this marvel, 
 Or told how wonderful it is, that rhyming is so new. 
 
 Consider ; it would seem the very vice, of earliest savage tongues, 
 Nursery-chime of the childhood of theworld, a jingling everywhere ; 
 Their love-ditties and war songs, their feasts and hunts and dirges. 
 Should all be full of rhyming, from Jubal down to Merlin : 
 And yet for nigh five thousand years, all poetry had flowed in 
 
 rhythm. 
 And neither Warrior, Sage, nor Fool, had rhymed a hymn or song ; 
 Their ears, exquisite for time, curiously lacked for melody ; 
 Even their alliterative echoes led not on to rhymes ; 
 The strophe and antistrophe, were measures, but not music, 
 And syllables were counted, but no man gauged a sound : 
 There wa; xieeded, through long ages, the prophet to arise, 
 Teaching the metrical ear musical melodies too. 
 
 So, with another sense, brightened by modern energies, 
 
 It is but recently that landscape hath seemed pleasant to the sight : 
 
 Lately as in our grandsire's day, none could appreciate the Alps, 
 
 A cultivated plain, was all they thought of praising ; 
 
 The grandest sublimities of nature were but horrid in their eyes. 
 
 And none took note of scenery, nor cared to toil up mountains ; 
 
 But the painter and the poet were at hand, pouring their eloquent 
 
 preachings, 
 And scales fell off men's eyes, and the glacier and the precipice are 
 
 glorified. 
 
 Even thus it fared with poetry ; until nine centuries ago, 
 
 •^
 
 ^ 
 
 314 OF ZOILISM. 
 
 And after well nigh fifty had heard the speech of men, 
 
 The world awaited a discoverer, who found the trick of rhyme, 
 
 And charmed at once its listening ears, by sweet expected echoes. 
 
 Ilaply he came from the uttermost East, beyond the shores of Ind, 
 
 From the far land of Sinim, or more remote Japan ; 
 
 And wandering minstrels caught the strain, and wise monks heard 
 
 it gladly. 
 And chaunted hymns and songs apace, in rough and cheery rhyme ; 
 And soon the sweet infection spread over every land, 
 Charming the Northmen and the Celts, enlisting troubadours and 
 
 trouveres. 
 None asking whence it sprang, while all enjoyed its pleasure, 
 And no man known as the inventor, of what so many used. 
 Only, in their Hades far away, were those ancient poets stirred, 
 Finding that even Masters may have somewhat left to learn ; 
 That even their sweet harps had lacked this newest string ; 
 That even choicest rhythm might be bettered by a rhyme. 
 
 OF ZOILISM. 
 
 To pass just judgment on a good man's book, to gauge its author's 
 
 mind. 
 To print and scatter through the world thy verdict on his works. 
 This is an honourable trust, a matter responsible and anxious, 
 Demanding knowledge, patience, care, with special kindness and 
 
 acuteness : 
 Haply the work upon thy desk is the ripened labour of a lifetime. 
 Years of thought, research, and prayer, condensed within that book, 
 Happiness, fame, and fortune, hang on its success, 
 It may be also livelihood, children's bread, and honour ; 
 While the heart of a mother or a wife, and not alone its author's. 
 Will be pained or gladdened by the judgment, passed upon the 
 
 one they love : 
 Yet, to this great result, this toilsome long achievement, 
 Some self-elected censor giveth one dyspeptic hour ; 
 Cursorily scanning it in haste, he decideth with superficial care- 
 lessness ; 
 And that despotic sentence shall be multiplied to the ends of the 
 
 earth. 
 Even if no lower motives enter, no envious hatred of success,
 
 OF ZOILISM. 315 
 
 In that same field where he hath failed, and will not brook a rival ; 
 Even if no spirit of slander provoketli him to harm good fame ; 
 If there be no lust of mischief in a man, anonymous and cowardly ; 
 Even if the shibboleth of party commandeth neither praise nor 
 
 blame ; 
 If no book merchant interests affect antagonist Sosii, 
 Still, there is indomitable hurry ; no time for honest judgment ; 
 So many volumes to be scanned, and all before to-morrow : 
 Grant what honesty thou wilt, still, overworked and fevered, 
 The critic is but rarely fit to judge a true book truly. 
 
 So, cometh it to pass, that the world heedeth lightly of such 
 
 teachers ; 
 We hear their arbitrary dictates, but heed our own free thoughts : 
 In spite both of indolence and industry, men judge mainly fur 
 
 themselves, 
 And, lazy though they be, kick hard against the tyrants ; 
 They read and like and buy, following their own opinions, 
 And take small count of critics, howsoever such may dream : 
 The mighty We, yon nameless unit, how well scorned it is ! 
 That undefined grand Name is nothing when we know it. 
 The wizard's wand is powerless ; for this Prospero hath broken it 
 
 himself, 
 He hath outraged truth and honour, therefore is his censure praise : 
 His spite is but a spur that quickeneth merit's paces ; 
 His puffs may swell dull bubbles, but only till they burst ; 
 The venom blast of envy, that hateth young success. 
 Is but as a tonic in the air, bracing and fixing popularity ; 
 Even the should-be Marsyas, as flayed by his malignant censors, 
 Stolidly rhinoceros-hided, scorneth all their scalpels. 
 
 No man dreadeth Zoilus, no woman courteth Aristarchus ; 
 
 No Keats again shall die of such ; no Shelley pale before them : 
 
 Actors, unfaithful hypocrites, they overplay their parts ; 
 
 Pens are poignards in their hands ; an inkstand the fountain of 
 detraction. 
 
 The critic, taking refuge in reviling, as an idler method than re- 
 viewing, 
 
 Filleth the public ear, for gain, with flashy slanders ; 
 
 But the crowds that laugh and listen, while they like such humours, 
 
 Only despise that cankerous tongue, and take the victim's part : 
 
 ^
 
 ■^ 
 
 J 
 
 i6 OF ZOILISM. 
 
 ^ 
 
 Critics have diligently managed, by dint of long ill-doing, 
 
 To have lost all credit and esteem, and have flung the world away ; 
 
 It was not easy M'ith their powers, save for the corruption of their 
 
 morals ; 
 Men were content to follow them, but not through shame and mud ; 
 Smothered in his own ink, stabbed by his own steel pen 
 Snared in his special gin, tangled in his proper meshes, 
 And fallen into the pit that he had digged for other, — 
 Zoilus is socially quenched, and the libeller is libelled by his mates ; 
 The malice of his strictures is as viper's-fat for cure, 
 His judgment hath no weight, his slanders glorify their victim, 
 He dare not avow among his fellows he hath written such and such, 
 Treacherously wounding in the dark, he liveth yet in terror of 
 
 discovery. 
 And where he stabbed he stabbed in vain, only to blunt his dagger. 
 
 A fool can ask questions, that shall puzzle the sage to answer, 
 And feeble wits write forcibly, offhand, on wisdom's works. 
 Thersites, bitter hunchback, — with Zoilus well clubbed and Aris- 
 
 tarchus, — 
 Is sworn to quench all Nestors, and to laugh Elishas down ; 
 These have taught the people, these have earned good fame, — 
 Therefore ignorance and envy league in lies to harm them. 
 And, if a man hath written books, this (in attempt) is easy ; 
 Forthwith, he, and they, are jointly fixed for targets : 
 Mingling the writer with his work, infirmities can load the scale, — • 
 He may be old, weak dotard ! or he may be young, pert boy ! 
 Even if halt or blind, your modern critic spareth not for these, — 
 Go up, go up, thou bald head ! the blind, to be leader of the blind ! 
 Or thou canst sneer at his moralities, severely pure thyself, 
 Haply, he is not sworn a Rechabite ; possibly hath debts and 
 
 troubles ; 
 Or, it may be that, heretofore, he hath said or done some folly. 
 Or prodigal sons, or a vixen wife, may blow upon his credit ; 
 Grand old Sophocles may be slandered through his children, 
 
 Xantippe be alleged a shame to Socrates, 
 And Job be charged with his afllictions, if he chance to have 
 
 written a book. 
 
 Let all such count against your author, helping to damn his volume, 
 What merit should there be in this, if such dark stains in him?
 
 i- 
 
 OF ZOILISM. ■^17 
 
 Yet fruits are for judgment by themselves, in spite of the condition 
 of the trees ; 
 
 A crystal's angles are its own, wherever be the mountain cavern ; 
 
 And a book hath a separate being, purely irrespective of its author, 
 
 Albeit our interests are heightened, if it honestly reflect the man. 
 
 The just critic should gauge each work, by its innate special quali- 
 ties, 
 
 Unprejudiced by accidents, that hang about the worker ; 
 
 But our unjust judges in literature hunt down men, not books, 
 
 Filled with bitter personality, sarcastic and foulspoken. 
 
 How shall ignorance contrive to show like learning's self, 
 
 When some unscrupulous reviewer sitteth down to judge his 
 
 master ? 
 That book is doomed to be condemned ; the critic must not read it ; 
 Some awkward beauties in the thing might tamper with his verdict : 
 So, it shall be handed to a clerk, to note its worst and weakest. 
 And tear out pages, rich in faults, and every best omitted ; 
 Happy if some chance misprint destroy grammatical concord, 
 Happy if a word be found misquoted, or some fact ill dated. 
 Then for a diligent half hour to con some cognate treatise, 
 Some digest of his victim's theme, but on the opposite tack : 
 Dipping from book to book, well indexed and well .loted. 
 He mastereth a few strange terms in the science off-hand to be 
 
 discussed, 
 Glanceth at the disputable spots, held to be his author's crotchets. 
 And thus is ready for the onslaught, a cavalier of points. 
 Then, with supercilious ease, great in stolen knowledge. 
 Glibly shall he pen his essay on our author's theme ; 
 Dropping down grandly from on high, as a vulture swoopeth upon 
 
 carrion. 
 He pounceth at tne petty faults discovered l)y his clerk, 
 Propoundeth that antagonistic view as the sole one a sane man 
 
 can adopt. 
 And bringeth that faise date in proof, that all the rest is worthless ! 
 It is wonderful how small and mean, beside this omniscient re- 
 
 vicM'cr, 
 Is seen the wretched author, though a master in his craft : 
 It is marvellous with what contempt, what vast array of learning, 
 Sanchoniathon, Manetho, and Berosus, freely quoting all, 
 Our critic, — stripling from the schools, or starveling at the bar,— 
 
 -*■
 
 3i8 OF ZOILISM. 
 
 Goadeth his helpless prey, that old beleaguered pundit, 
 A swordfish pricking at a whale, with never a voice to tell 
 How full he is of oil, for a million midnight lamps : 
 Lastly, to finish with a flourish, and prove superior lore, 
 To catch the people's wonder, and show the judge's wisdom, 
 Let him touch by innocent accident, upon the curious fact 
 That Sanscrit was our passion when a boy, as is now the arrow- 
 headed character ! 
 Hints of such high scope exalt the critic's chair, 
 And help to crush the caitiff whom his judge is to condemn. 
 
 There is rubbish printed by the ton, that ought to be well censured ; 
 But this is always praised, for merchandize of books : 
 Novels, mere insects of an hour, are prophesied undoubted immor- 
 tality 
 And float their bubble life upon the well-paid puffs of fame ; 
 And it is betimes a wisdom, when praise is found effete, 
 To keep the shuttles up by battledores of censure ; 
 Even actions, as for libel, have renovated tales of scandal. 
 Ostensibly for morals, but to make the public buy. 
 Sometimes, praise is very prodigal ; this author is a noble ; 
 Or — so ignoble as to be her critic's paramour ; 
 Or — a writer with a following, some partizan of Church or State ; 
 Or — his publisher is potent, canvassed by the press for favours : 
 So, the censor is to praise ; let him read that book with diligence, 
 And note with seeming ecstacies its poor and trivial best ; 
 Happy is it for his honesty, if he find therein aught worthy of 
 
 applause. 
 But either way, through good and ill, this hireling slave applaudeth. 
 O the multitude of witlings, partially belauded for their hour, 
 Whom the world hath willingly let die, in spite of critic-friends ; 
 O the galaxy of few great names, mocked by the starving Aristarchi, 
 Who long have known their scorn, to be herald of the whole earth's 
 
 reverence 
 
 t 
 
 Where is there a man that hath escaped, of all our best and wisest. 
 
 The false malignant judgment of the Critics in his time ? 
 
 Every one hath stood as a Sebastian, naked, to be shot with ar- • 
 
 rows. 
 Each, like that sweet saint, achieving immortality of love. 
 What shall we say of yonder band, philosophers, bards, and sages. 
 All condemned and scorned at first by dull presumptuous censors ? 
 
 4 A
 
 OF ZOILISM. 319 
 
 Wordsworth, simple and sublime, how long they laughed at 
 
 thee ! 
 Coleridge, the gentle and profound, which of them did honour to 
 
 thine eloquence? 
 Byron, answering scorn with scorn, well didst thou turn and rend 
 
 them, — 
 And even Shakespeare, Newton, Pope, were scouted and defamed ! 
 
 I have known yet baser motives affect our heralds of fame, 
 Soiling the ermine, on the bench, of those self-dubbed judges in 
 
 literature. 
 Mercury, winged trumpeter, carrieth not the purse in vain ; 
 i^acus, Minos, Rhadamanthus, are bribeable alas ! as Bacon. 
 A certain writer in The Tadmor forwarded a fulsom.e panegyric, 
 Professing boundless admiration for the works of a certain author : 
 His letter, frankly written, touched upon the penury at home. 
 And asked some score of pounds, a loan — no more — of honour : 
 That letter had its postscript ; the seed would be surely seen well 
 
 sown ; 
 A hundredfold o» literary fame should fill the sower's bosom : 
 Was not this a critic in The Tadmor? Could he not control The 
 
 Scribe? 
 Had he not a voice in The Musreum? Were they not all one 
 
 brotherhood ? 
 Well should the generous author, glorified throughout the press. 
 Be recompensed, as richly he deserved, by that grateful writer in 
 
 The Tadmor ! 
 The letter, flung aside with indignation, received not its answer as 
 
 expected ; 
 And straightway half the Arabs of the press defamed that unwise 
 
 author : 
 Scribe and Tadmor and Musreum are to this day found his foes ; 
 How priceless then must be the praise, of Scrilie and Tadmor and 
 
 Musreum ! 
 
 Yet there is an honest phalanx, gallant, honourable, capable. 
 Strong good hounds, and hunting fair, and of a generous stock. 
 These will not vilely dog the heels of merit lest it scape them ; 
 These will not cut across the scent, as lurchers running foul ; 
 Straight and staunch they follow, and, if they kill their fox, 
 They worry not the vermin, and he well deserved his end. 
 
 ■^ 
 
 f 
 
 -NN-
 
 ^ 
 
 320 OF CREEDS. 
 
 And there is a nobler band, high in power and conscience, 
 
 Who help the struggling genius, while still friendless and unknown : 
 
 "Whose frowns are only for the impious ; whose wrath is reserved 
 
 for the impure ; 
 Whose ridicule may scathe conceit, but spareth even ignorance if 
 
 modest ; 
 Whose rich libations of praise are poured on worth and wisdom ; 
 Whose verdict is an echo from High Heaven, of the Well done, 
 
 faithful servant ! 
 
 
 OF CREEDS. 
 
 A PURE life, a liberal mind, an honc^^t and good heart, — 
 
 This is the threefold cord bent upon the anchor of religion ; 
 
 If either of those strands be rotten, that bark is found in peril. 
 
 Nigh to be drifted on the reef, when as its hawser parteth : 
 
 Void of purity in morals, faith is but a hypocrite of words, 
 
 Charity cannot dwell with a mean and narrow spirit. 
 
 And there is but little hope, failing integrity of purpose ; 
 
 Faith, hope, charity, the triple-twisted cable of religion. 
 
 In a mere creed there is no salvation, no happiness in articles or 
 
 dogmas, 
 No real safety for tne soul in the best cold code of forms ; 
 Though thy theology be logical, and thy scheme most orthodox. 
 Though thy sect be of the straitest, thy chain from the fathers of 
 
 the strongest. 
 These are none of them the comforters to bring a man peace at 
 
 the last, 
 These are not the elements of heaven in the soul : 
 Holiness that hath no evil memories, kindliness loveable to all, 
 And cheerful trust toward Gcd, will outweigh all the creeds. 
 
 Truth is as a sphere of crystal, so many-many-sided every way, 
 
 With all its microscopic angles polished down and blent, 
 
 That none can feel the corners, none perceive the bevils, 
 
 A globe of million facets, like an insect's eye : 
 
 And the longer a man liveth on the earth, growing wiser from 
 
 experiences, 
 The nearer he attaineth to this smoothness, this absence of the 
 
 sharp and rough.
 
 Ik- 
 
 OF CREEDS. 321 
 
 He is tolerant, large, and genial, allowing differences readily, 
 
 And fitting every angled hole with simply-circled ease : 
 
 He knoweth that there always is an answer to be equitably heard 
 
 and weighed, 
 Ever a view from the opposite point, another surface to the shield, 
 Prejudices, bents, and educationals, all to be righteously considered^ 
 And strange epidemics for human minds, no less than for their bodies ; 
 The Empire of the Moslem Wahabees abhor as foul abominations, 
 Not leprosy nor murder, but silken kerchiefs and tobacco ; 
 Swines' flesh, the Gentile farmer's glory, will be sin and shame to 
 
 a Jew ; 
 Bulls' flesh defileth unto death the intellectual Brahmin ; 
 To be shaven is misfortune and disgrace to half the stately East ; 
 The manly beard, till yesterday, was ridicule to polished Europe ; 
 Eastvvardly, a score of wives are credit, comfort, honour ; 
 Westwardly, suspicion of a second is misery, guilt, and ruin ; 
 One man sweareth by water, to cure him, nay to save him ; 
 Pulse and lentils with another are religion in his food ; 
 Ritual is all in all for this man, Spiritual all in all for that ; 
 Conscience is to one his law, authority to another ; 
 Here, faith is pinned upon a book, there all truth is in the teacher, 
 A third relieth on the office, a fourth hath assurance in himself; 
 One man seetli in his priest, as if the God incarnate ; 
 Another claimeth for himself peculiar indwelling of the Spirit ; 
 With this mind all argument is closed, by the dictum of an ancient 
 
 saint ; 
 With that mind light is to be found, only in a new apostle : 
 The Nazarite and Rechabite abjure that which maketh glad the 
 
 heart of man ; 
 Garments of every shape are each held the livery for heaven ; 
 Ecstacies and phantasies of madmen are hailed by their elec^ as 
 
 inspirations ; 
 And idiots among the Alps are counted for God's children by the 
 
 Switzer. 
 
 And in such varying creeds there is ever some uniform good, 
 A portion we can well excuse, or partially commend : 
 Wise and true men will be found in each and every class, 
 All taking as it were their tints, from specialties in mind and body : 
 Therefore it is vain with those diversities, to hope for similarity of 
 creed,
 
 -^ 
 
 322 OF creed:s. 
 
 Though Chrysostom persuade, or Torquemada force it ; 
 
 And tolerant wisdom is content, to suffer all phases of opinion, 
 
 For shrewd experience of men seeth infinite variety in character. 
 
 Yea ; trumpet out what creed thou wilt, and that with Athanasian 
 
 precision, 
 Be thy logic of the Trinity the strictest, thy learning in the fathers 
 
 of the deepest, 
 Yet, if thy life be wicked, even Athanasius being judge. 
 Thou that doest evil, thy wages are the fires everlasting. 
 And, if in all good conscience, though warped by men and things, 
 Thou boldest some extraordinary creed, fanatical and foolish. 
 Yet, while thy life is righteous, the times of this ignorance are 
 
 winked at. 
 Thou that workest good, thy heart and thy rest are with the blessed. 
 Belief is a deep strong root, and a true creed beareth fruits of life, 
 And a false creed, followed out in practice, yieldeth only poison- 
 berries ; 
 But the true creed solely in the head, and the false creed noways 
 
 in the heart, 
 Maketh good neutral in the first, maketh evil neutral in the second. 
 Forms and liturgies and articles may screen Truth or display her, 
 They be helps and they be governments, measures sieves and 
 
 gauges, 
 Finger-posts to show the way, and props to aid the weak ; 
 For the outer Church is but a scaffolding to build up living stones, 
 The Heavenly Jerusalem is veiled, by no such human structure. 
 They that win many to happiness, be they priests or lay. 
 Such true preachers are to shine, as the stars for ever and ever : 
 The good priest here may have his specialties, but here too they 
 
 shall cease ; 
 Hereafter, equally ^\ilh him, his flock are priests and kings : 
 Woe to him if he win not souls ; glory to him if he win them ; 
 But less to the priest than to the man, for his vocation is not car- 
 ried thitherward. 
 Offices forms and creeds are nought, except as means to ends. 
 They all are things of earth, to perish in the using : 
 And be thy superstition what it may, if it tendeth to good works, 
 The love of God and man, with earnest prayer and penitence, 
 This is enough for happiness : as one of our own poets hath said, — 
 I>et bigots fight for creeds, the good man hath the right one.
 
 Jr 
 
 — ^ ^ ^^ 
 
 OF TJIE FUTURE OF ANIMALS. 323 '^ 
 
 OF THE FUTURE OF ANIMALS. 
 
 There is needed a gospel for the brute, a preacher for the pariahs 
 
 of creation, 
 A voice to vindicate tlic justice, the wisdom, and the mercy oi 
 
 their Maker ; 
 Ilis justice, ordering righteously; His wisdom, working not in 
 
 vain ; 
 His mercy, loving all His works, from the highest even to the 
 
 humblest. 
 There is lacking, through the selfishness of man, who voteth him- 
 self the centre, 
 A word for the wide circumference, and the rays, and the tangents 
 
 of his circle : 
 He hath set himself up for judge, determining in his narrowness 
 That God made laws for him alone, and took no thought for oxen ; 
 That He who pitied Nineveh, noways heedeth its much cattle, 
 And hath not heart, nor mind, nor will, to care alike for all things. 
 He forgetteth that there is a Spirit, equally in man and brute, 
 One tending upward if it may be, the other grovelling downward. 
 Like in kind, but differing in degree, as humbler souls and higher; 
 The brute limited both ways, for evil as for good : 
 For while man's loftier spirit can sink to uttermost depths, 
 The brute, if less capable of rising, also is less liable to fall ; 
 Evil example in its master may vitiate his imitative dog, 
 Though this may be nurtured to be nobler than are many of the 
 
 tribes of man ; 
 But in no case can it be so base, as the town-bred scoundrel of 
 
 society, 
 Nor change to so vile a savage as the Andaman or the IVIakariro : 
 With all, education will do much, and the company of worse 01 
 
 better. 
 High instinct over-treading the heels of lowest reason ; 
 Yet the dumb beast may not reach our human degradations, 
 Drunkenness, dishonesty, and cruelty, are not the brute's achieve- 
 ments : 
 Grant that it cannot worship God, it will idolize His image Man, 
 Even to dying of grief, even to self-sacrifice to save him ; 
 Grant that it rise not to the Spiritual,— how few men rise to this !— 
 The dumb beast hath affections, loving and remembering, and 
 thinking ;
 
 324 OF THE FUTURE OF ANIMALS. 
 
 IL hath a sort of reason, and is not a mere macliinc ; 
 
 It showeth a kind of moral sense, more tlian the Bushman or Fue- 
 gian : 
 
 Unreckoning, it is generous and unselfish ; with a conscience both 
 of evil and of good, 
 
 Sensitive to praise and blame, and full of shrewdness and attach- 
 ment : 
 
 Nature standeth as its all in all for law, neither doth it sin against 
 her ; 
 
 And the God of nature will in no wise destroy it for obedience. 
 
 We may but touch analogies ; we dare not clench this doctrine 
 M'ith a dogma ; 
 
 Our wisdom is to watch the hints, dropt incidentally by Scripture ; 
 
 Proof is noways possible, and difficult objections will abound, 
 
 Prejudice crushing reason, and novelty showing as a falsehood ; 
 
 And some may fancy that we claim an equal inheritance for all. 
 
 Forgetting grades of being, and infinite diversities of slate ; 
 
 And other some will feel that for The Christ, to have ransomed 
 man alone. 
 
 Is a selfish consolation to themselves, a closer and particular Re- 
 demption ; 
 
 While the more magnificent Salvation of all man's fallen world 
 
 In their view looketh little worthy, of a love more select than 
 universal : 
 
 The idea of soul-saved brutes will shock conceited men ; 
 
 Catholic favour is an insult to elected and predestinated favourites. 
 
 Therefore frequent are the gainsayers, and few the generous advo- 
 cates. 
 
 And much contention shall arise, for there be many adversaries : 
 
 Nevertheless I will be bold to claim for the meanest of creation 
 
 All its Creator's love, infinite eternal imiversal : 
 
 God hath loved the world ; the Gospel is for every creature ; 
 
 The ransomed of the Lord shall return, and the wilderness shall 
 blossom as the rose ; 
 
 The lion, with its ravenous nature changed, yet shall eat straw 
 like the ox, 
 
 The wolf shall dwell witli the lamb, and the leopard lie down with 
 the kid ; 
 
 All sin and death and pain extinct, happiness and progress in com- 
 munion
 
 OF THE FUTURE OF ANIMALS. 325 
 
 Shall lead cacli creature to its best, migrating toward perfection : 
 
 They shall not hurt nor destroy i 1 all Ilis holy mountain, 
 
 The denizens of Earth in her millennium shall find that happy 
 
 future ; 
 Not only men and women, but all the creation of God 
 Shall glorify His goodness, in their new-recovered Eden. 
 
 Man is not alone for love, for memory, shrewdness, honour, 
 
 Many of his lower servants shame their master here. 
 
 The soft domestic cat, affectionately purring. 
 
 That findeth home again from far, through some mysterious sense ; 
 
 The kind-eyed noble-hearted dog, defending thee so bravely, 
 
 Forgiving oft and loving much, and ever full of gratitude ; 
 
 The generous highbred horse, with his fine sensitive feelings, 
 
 Vicious against the foul-mouthed groom, but gentle toward his 
 mistress. 
 
 The wise and wary elephant, the parrot, and the camel, and the 
 reindeer, 
 
 And all our other humbler friends, our mute slaves and com- 
 panions, — 
 
 These have climbed, through education, to higher grades of mind 
 
 Than whole savage families of men have won through countless 
 ages ; 
 
 These have not outraged the moralities, these have not stupified 
 intelligence. 
 
 Like half our rustics, half our workmen, at some race or fair ; 
 
 These show kinder evidence of soul, in conscience affection and 
 devotion, 
 
 Than all the gypsies of our downs, the outcasts in our streets: 
 
 Look from the high-mettled racer, to the shrivelled mean blas- 
 phemer on his back, — 
 
 Which of these should win an imm.ortality ? which of them hath 
 earned annihilation ? 
 
 True ; the brute's limit now is earthward ; but all have limits here. 
 All are cramped and prisoned in these charnel walls of sense ; 
 Yet, wherefore should not brutes expand, as well as man hereafter ? 
 Why not grow to some advancement, some perfection in their kind ? 
 The life which God hath given, should His grace repent it,— 
 Unmaking creatures He hath made, as if His thought had failed' 
 All are wonderful and exquisite, miracles of varied excellence, 
 
 ■^ 
 
 ^
 
 ^ 
 
 326 OF THE FUTURE OF ANIMALS. 
 
 From nature's rational lord, to his least and lowest serf : 
 
 Why should a so-called instinct, the heaven-tutored mind of brute.'^ 
 
 Be clean wiped out for ever, as in blank annihilation, — 
 
 Nor rather still teach angels, wondering to see the spider spin. 
 
 Praising in brighter skies the jewelled bosom of the humming-bird. 
 
 Exhilarated even in their hymns by the skylark's whirl of song. 
 
 Delighted with creature comeliness, and yearning ovei animal 
 
 affection ? 
 It were a dull flat world, a creation of less interest than ours, 
 If indeed man's future home possess no lower inmates ; 
 If there be no gradations, no humbler tribe than we, — 
 All of one royal race, earth-kings, — but with no subjects,— 
 Lacking this elaborated order, upholding and depending. 
 To prove the Maker's attributes and magnify His wisdom ; 
 With no multitudinous links in nature's coat of chain 
 To show how strong she standeth, a panoplied Minerva ; 
 Only one tame dead level, incomplicate and shorn of mysteries, 
 A world of one idea, and void of varied genius. 
 This is but a life of introductions, beginnings seeds and eggs, 
 All to fructify hereafter, germinating humbly here ; 
 A drop-scene of foreshadowings, on passing clouds that vanish. 
 Photographs of circumstance and character, the substance whereof 
 
 is yet to come. 
 Therefore it is wise and well to see new friends and places, 
 To gain, even at the end of life, elements of new knowledge, 
 Hereafter to be carried freely forward, that when we fail for time 
 Such seeming-mammon friends may receive us in eternal habitations: 
 Here we touch the clues that lead us on to ever-blooming gardens, 
 Here, mysterious truth, we plant our seeds of being. 
 
 Everything that hath been and that is, and all things that yet may 
 have to be. 
 
 Here but in type and show, shall be reproduced in antitype here- 
 after : 
 
 " Resurgam" is the solemn word inscribed on every fact. 
 
 The feeblest thing that ever was shall have its resurrection. 
 
 We gain part-alphabets of knowledge, in nature art and science, 
 
 Like children at their infant school, conning primer lessons ; 
 
 But all, that here is so incipient, shall grow to its perfection ; 
 
 No creature shall be wasted, or despised, or cast away. 
 
 Why should it only be for men, that mighty restoration ?
 
 OF THE FUTURE OF ANIMALS. 327 
 
 Annihilation of His works were not The Maker's glory. 
 Man, his own historian, celebrateth only man, 
 Claiming redemption for himself, all else in condemnation ; 
 The sinner alone, forsooth, the King is to he saved. 
 But the whole of his innocent serf-kingdom to be quenched and 
 annulled for ever ! 
 
 — Not so ! all God's pensioners, animal, vegetal, mineral, 
 
 Every note that hath resounded on the timlirels of His Providence, 
 
 Every thought and deed, every passion and fancy, 
 
 Every idle word, and every sinful act. 
 
 Every sparrow in its fall, as every Christian in his death, 
 
 All shall live again, and have immortal sequence, — 
 
 The trail of each creature in its progress ; for all things have their 
 
 seeming souls. 
 Recorded at least on spirits' memories, if not themselves pure spirit. 
 He that believeth Resurrection must carry it out unto the end ; 
 Nothing perisheth utterly, soul or mind or matter : 
 Nothing continueth in one stay, moving ever onward ; 
 Progress is the common law, toward infinite good or evil. 
 The fashion of this world fadeth, but its recollections live for ever ; 
 None may obliterate the thought, that once hath stood a thing : 
 And it is a weakness in the argument to claim immortality for man, 
 Refusing to all humbler life a future grade of being. 
 Creation is one whole, glorifying God throughout. 
 From suns to microscopic monads, all are linked together ; 
 All, the archangel,— and the worm,— shall progress to perfection 
 
 in their kind, 
 All shall praise the Maker in their season at their best. 
 
 Behold yon dying saint, with heaven shining on his face, 
 A merchant-prince in every sense, and rich for either world ; 
 As he lieth dying, he calleth for his dear old dog. 
 Faithful companion of his walks, when he went about doing good ; 
 And as, in love and grief, the poor dumb creature whining, 
 Licketh his wasted cheek, and the thin hand hanging by the bedside. 
 Hearken to this dreary lamentation :— Alas ! my noble friend, 
 There is no future life for thee,— farewell for ever and ever !— 
 Did not the Christian in that word confirm the falsehood of the 
 
 infidel. 
 The dark dread hope of wickedness, his lie, annihilation ? 

 
 328 OF THE FUTURE OF ANIMALS. 
 
 And shall we not judge that the poor Indian who looked for his 
 
 faithful dog 
 Still to be found with him in bliss, on the happy shores of the 
 
 departed, 
 Truly was wiser than the poet, whose rhyme hath immortalized 
 
 that ignorance, 
 And, all untutored as he was, taught the philosopher a lesson ? 
 
 Our spirits live and die not ; our bodies live awhile and die, 
 Rising for reunion with those spirits, to live anew whole creatures : 
 Shall there be for such fair tabernacles, wherewith we shall soon 
 
 be clothed-upon, 
 No hangings and no furnitures, no thrones nor harps nor crowns. 
 No palms, and no white raiment, no jewels, incense, flowers, 
 No birds nor butterfljes nor crystals, no wonders and no beauties, 
 No better remembrancers of earth, our pilgrimage of trial, 
 No chariots and no horses, no friends of our old hearths? 
 Verily, beautified and glorified, all such shall live again ; 
 Tiie whole creation groaneth, travailing for that life : 
 Yet shall there be a Restitution, a resurrection real for all things, 
 Creatures, circumstances, pageants, deeds and words and thoughts; 
 All have been figured on the light, all are waved upon the air, 
 
 ' All have been fixed in unalterable fact, all were the beginnings of 
 
 unendings. 
 Nothing can escape its future ; for everything is a seed, 
 
 \ Germinating for the vast hereafter, and to flower in its season. 
 
 It is false and weak and foolish to confine the resurrection unto 
 man, 
 
 J A plot of human vanity, but not the plan of God : 
 
 Man is but one among the meshes, of the knitted raiment of needle- 
 work. 
 Wherewith the King of kings is pleased to clothe Himself, 
 The one whole vesture of creation, woven from the top throughout. 
 Wherein His attributes are seen, braided in many patterns ; 
 And if one loop thereof be dropt, a rent is made in glory, 
 The beautiful mosaic of His cosmos hath its pavement incomplete. 
 None of His works were lightly made, nor meant to be repented ; 
 He is the Builder and the Maker, never designing a destruction. 
 That which is shall ever be, ripening to perfection in its kind, 
 Or haply, through mysteries of evil, rotting to corruption ever- 
 lasting ; 
 
 i
 
 OF THE FUTURE OF ANIMALS. 329 
 
 For, all that God hath made shall live in His own life, 
 Shall live according to its works, for glory or for shame, 
 Henceforth, if grace prevail, rejoicing in His mercy. 
 Henceforth, if evil overcome, contending with His justice ! 
 
 Thou objectest, Life for any time is gain ; and to brutes annihila- 
 tion were no loss, 
 If it pleaseth the Great Architect of all to be wasteful of His skill : 
 Be that life ephemeral as a May-fly's, or a hundred years as of a 
 
 raven, 
 Thou sayest, it is the creature's gain, and so its Maker's grace. 
 True, if that life be full of pleasure ; but what if it be little else 
 
 than pain ? 
 Hath the creature then no controversy, with its Maker, being in- 
 nocent ? 
 And would the Great Just Judge wait for some eloquent advocate, 
 And not be Himself that counsel, arguing for justice to his prisoner? 
 If brutes have no hereafter, what an unequal lot 
 Between the pampered lapdog, and the starving hoimd, — 
 The flayed Abyssinian bull, moaning beside his banquetters. 
 And happy kine afield, lazily cropping in the sunshine . 
 With us, futurity will compensate, and Lazarus receive his mercies, 
 But wherein is there justice to the dogs who licked his sores? 
 Wherein, for the hideous live dissections, victims of a Spallanzajii's 
 
 scalpel ? 
 Wherein, for the maimed and tortured, all cruelly entreated inno- 
 
 cents,- 
 If He, who pleased to make them, made them only for their woes. 
 And, sinless as they stand, destined for them nought but suffer- 
 ing? 
 
 If brutes have no hereafter, where are the accusers of the cruel, — 
 
 The gambler's screaming cock, live-roasted from the main ; 
 
 The woin-out war-horse at his last, tormented day after day 
 
 By cold-blooded surgical fiends, agonising all its life-strings ; 
 
 The starved, the skinned, the battered,- — the bulldog maimed be- 
 fore he fought. 
 
 Wretched victims of the vice, the hatefulness and sins of man ? 
 
 Shall none of these arise to judgment ? will none bear witness on 
 the guilty ? 
 
 Must cruelties to all beneath them be utterly excused to men ?
 
 ^ 
 
 330 OF THE FUTURE OF ANIMALS. 
 
 If sheer annihilation be their fate, — what mattereth? — for there be 
 no accusers ; 
 
 And so, the worst monsters of mankind unjustly miss their punish- 
 ment : 
 
 But, great Justice liveth ; eternal Justice liveth ! 
 
 Guilt shall not go scatheless, Innocence shall not be unavenged. 
 
 The whole creation groaneth, travailing in pain together. 
 Waiting till the sons of God, through Christ, are raised to glory : 
 And the creature was made subject unto deatli, not by its own de- 
 fault. 
 But as following the fortunes of its lord, and subjected alike in 
 
 hope : 
 For the creature itself shall be delivered, to the humblest, from 
 
 the bondage of corruption ; 
 Into that liberty and glory, the children of God made free. 
 
 O all ye works of the Lord, bless ye the Lord, — praise Him and 
 
 magnify Him for ever ! 
 Men and things and elements, and beasts and feathered fowls! 
 Let none be missing from the feast for Earth and all her children ; 
 But let whatever hath had being, praise Him and magnify Him 
 
 for ever ! 
 He is not the God of the dead, tior hath made any covenant with 
 
 destruction, 
 Nor worketh capriciously for time, but with solid resolution for 
 
 eternity : 
 Life is His glory, and not death ; happiness and not annihilation ; 
 Complacent satisfaction in His creature, and no caprice or change. 
 It shineth out a good great truth, that the regeneration of the world 
 Through Christ's grand sacrifice for all, not only men but things. 
 Shall demonstrate the Maker's mercy, eternal, without stint, 
 To every creature of His skill, preserved in man's redemption. 
 Earth's thousand years of days of years, its manifold millennium, 
 Its Sabbath-life of holy-day, its holiday from sin. 
 Shall gladden all creation in our expanded globe 
 Grown to be a spiritual orb, lighter, brighter, vaster ; 
 Thus shall it be filled for evermore with its own regenerate creatures, 
 The home for all its pensioners that here received their life : 
 And so, dear Mother Earth, full of our childhood's memories, 
 \YiIl then stand one of many stars whereto we men may speed
 
 OF ITAPPINESS TOGETHER OR ALONE. 331 
 
 Freely at our innate power and will, coming and going every where, 
 
 As the angels of Jacob's ladder, linking world with world, 
 
 No longer chained to one by grovelling gravitation, 
 
 But in a spiritual liberty made freemen of them all : 
 
 Yet, oftenest revisiting dear Earth, and lingering there among her 
 
 creatures, 
 In her grand apotheosis for all Nature, not only men and women, 
 But humblest things as highest, insects beasts and fishes, 
 The briar and the rose, the lion and the ox, and trees and flowers 
 
 of the field, 
 All, with evil flung aside, and death and sin forgotten, 
 Praising the Lord who made them and magnifying Him for ever 
 
 ^ 
 T 
 
 OF HAPPINESS TOGETHER OR ALONE. 
 
 In Paradise before the fall God instituted marriage, 
 And Jesus first wrought miracle to bless a wedding feast. 
 With God Himself in Eden for His young unguilty creatures 
 Verily, like all things else, was wedlock very good , 
 And, if once more the Present God work signs and wonders for it. 
 Again it must be very good, as nothing else on earth : 
 But, woe for fallen mortals ! their best estate is banned, 
 Though flatteries and falsehoods are in league to hail it blessed ; 
 And youth is ever full of hope, but age hath left off hoping ; 
 While truths are told by neither, as enjoined from social fraud : 
 Romance falsifieth one view, conventional morality the other, 
 And gallantries and compliments combine to hide stern facts. 
 
 But, — so many miserable mistakes, and all without a cure ! 
 
 The wrong sort idly won, the right sort left unwooed ; 
 
 That fatal vow once taken, thenceforward hope is over ; 
 
 Mated opposites contend, unmated concords pine. 
 
 So often total wreck, with no space given for repentance, 
 
 Mezentian marriage chaining fast the living to the dead, 
 
 Hot-hearted youth with frozen age, or purity with baseness, 
 
 And so to dwell together, as a pair, through love or hate : 
 
 Alas ! for it is but a single chance, once thrown for first and last, 
 
 The gambler's desperate only cast, though flung away so lightly ; 
 
 A cruelty on raw rash youth, hedged round with gay deceptions, 
 
 ^
 
 J 
 
 y 
 
 332 OF HAPPINESS TOGETHER OR ALONE. 
 
 The cards are packed, the dice are weighted, — what chance of any 
 
 escape ? 
 So without cure and without end that lot is cast for lite 
 Which many know for misery, and none acknowledge perfect. 
 Alutual hate should stand enough for absolute release, 
 Or noted wrongs on either side, with equitable adjustments : . 
 A bond with no redemption clauses is not just to man, 
 In spite of all that Church can preach, or State enact to force it. 
 Crime, insanity, sterility, these should break the bands ; 
 And distortions of the spirit, as of body, sin against first principles 
 
 in marriage. 
 
 O differences wide and deep, O contrasts infinitely varied 
 Between those twain extremes, the happy and the miserable mar- 
 riage ! 
 Charity faith and hope, pui-ity economy religion, 
 These be the six Isaiah-wings to fledge that angel-home 
 Where Love is found an inmate still with Hymen growing old, 
 And two consenting creatures are as one for soul and body : 
 But for their frequent harder fate whose wedlock is a chain 
 Only to gall and shame and fret, and not that band of roses. 
 Enmity extravagance contempt, wrath strife envy opposition, 
 These be the seven devils possessing that hot hearth. 
 
 Ye many wicked wives, whose tempers blast your homes 
 From nurseries for good to breeding-schools for evil, 
 Woe for the misery and crime an aggravating tongue can cause, 
 Woe for the comfort and content destroyed by your bitter provoca- 
 tions. 
 Alas ! how hard for the artizan, returned at even from his labour 
 Weary of body and ill at ease in mind, and only craving rest. 
 To be driven from his threshold by contentions, worried at each 
 
 humble meal. 
 And cheated of his needful sleep by wedlock's clamouring tongue, 
 Haply edged with jealousies, or petty spites and irritations. 
 Now kith and kin maligned, and now some best friend slandered : 
 And so his home is blighted ; he must court peace elsewhere. 
 Close-shielded against clamour in a rancorous reserve : 
 And children watch and wonder, taking warning from their parents, 
 No refuge for the best but prayer, nor for the worst but flight ; 
 The sons rebellious and selfvvilled, as that usurping wife, 
 
 ^
 
 OF IIAPriXESS TOGETHER OR ALONE. 
 
 ^^ 
 
 JOJ 
 
 The daughters, like her husband, sadly beaten down to silence- 
 O bitter lie of law, O falsest dogma of society, 
 That woman is controlled by man, and subject to his will : 
 Custom makcth Vashti stronger than her lord ; 
 His hands are bound, his mouth is stopped; how can he force 
 obedience ? 
 
 And you, O many vicious husbands, hypocrites in much sin, 
 With whom the haply kinder wives are patient in your homesteads, 
 Ye drunken and low revellers, — or you of higher grade 
 Still profligate, though elders, and still shameless as in youth, 
 Alas, how hard for women to be mated with such men. 
 What martyrdom for gentle wives once married to such husbands ! j 
 
 Would that there could be just exchanges, the good to be consorted \ 
 
 with the good, ! 
 
 The wicked shackled to the wicked, as both shall be hereafter ; \ 
 
 Would that some general gaol-delivery were given to the galley- 
 slaves of marriage, ! 
 Some amnesty for innocents who writhe beneath its yoke, ; 
 Some second chance to cure the one great error made in life, | 
 Some nobler choice whereby the future should redeem the past ! 
 
 — Yet are there brighter phases ; that eclipse is not for all ; \ 
 
 Some happy pairs go hand in hand along the vale of life, I 
 
 And see their children's children, and are blessed in old age, " 
 
 And only find in wedded love the avenue to heaven. -; 
 And for the common sort, content, dull feeling, custom. 
 Give average men their average peace, and such are counted happy; 
 
 But, sorrowful truth to say, the griefs no laws can cure i 
 
 Grow rankly in that search in vain for happiness together. *\ 
 
 Then, what of single life, — so often guilty freedom, — 
 
 Doth it secure an average share of blessedness to man ? 
 
 Our half sphere of the West, fast bound to stringent marriage, 
 
 Is peopling fast with more unmated than are mated pairs : 
 
 Are these happier in their lot ? — Many doubtless must be, 
 
 Full of charities and faith, sensible and contented : 
 
 So they live beloved, so they die bewailed, 
 
 And their works do follow those good sisters and good brothers 
 
 But for the multitude whose hope is selfish worldly happiness, 
 
 Such fare not better singly, than those who missed it doubly. 
 
 ■hr
 
 +- 
 
 334 OF HAPPINESS TOGETHER OR ALONE. 
 
 How many unwritten tragedies are round us everywhere, — 
 What broken hearts, and starving souls, and unrecorded sorrows ! 
 Little thou wottest of the trials that have made these what they 
 
 are. 
 With disappointment and delay for daily meat and drink. 
 Behold some desolate old man, whose life is drained of love, 
 No one nigh to care for him, and none that he can care for ; 
 He, for all his hardnesb now, was full of soft affections, 
 Until bereavement tore away the best half of his heart ; 
 There was guiltiness in too much grief ; but of thy charity consider 
 How fond a lover once was yonder crabbed harsh old man. 
 And lo, this withered sister, with her youth and beauty gone, 
 Who gave away her heart, — but vainly, — long long years ago ; 
 What ? wilt thou taunt her with a jibe, or mock her by hard names, 
 Where all thy sympathies should yearn on one of love's true 
 
 martyrs ? 
 Canst thou not guess how full of grief those long years must have 
 
 passed. 
 Which dried away from woman's heart the lover wife and mother? 
 Shall nature's wounds be healed, or her quick feelings seared 
 Without a thousand secret pangs and exquisite regrets ? 
 Hath it been no heart-ordeal, to have watched the bloom of beauty 
 Faded from the unflattering glass, as middle age crept on. 
 And still no lover at her feet, — though she hath loved so fondly,— 
 No intimate to share and charm life's solitude away? 
 How loosely common friendships fill that hollow of the heart, — 
 How coldly can the warmest compare with love and marriage ! 
 And in the coming day of sickness, the hour of inevitable death. 
 To be lonely, husbandless and childless, unloved, unmissed, uncared 
 
 for, — 
 Who will not pity, will not love, that solitary soul, 
 With all its yearnings bruised, its milk of kindness soured ? 
 There be vanities, there be follies ; and much waste and wear of 
 
 good ; 
 Fancies overclouding life, and darkening half its sunshine : 
 Often thus hath generous youth, aflame with early passion, 
 Cruelly cheated of his idol, been withered to that desolate old age ; 
 Often the fair young maid, who set her first fond love 
 On yon insensate soul, unconscious or unworthy, 
 Hath changed to be soured from her sweetness, by living all alone. 
 And come to be the wreck of love thou hast not seldom seen-
 
 A NATIONAL HYMN FOR HARrEST. 335 
 
 And what then is the moral of it all ? why these bitter words, 
 Where most are found to say smooth things and prophesy deceits ? 
 — Because of those deceptions, those flatteries and false speeches, 
 Because the truth is rarely told, and never laid to heart, 
 Because for human life the Preacher's text is Vanity, 
 And no one would be envied if his whole estate were known. 
 
 Saving for that trinity of good, religion, healtli, and diligence, 
 Wherewith in wedded state or single, none can live unhappy, 
 All conditions of man's life, balanced on an equal scale, 
 Are — some few pleasures, many pains, and much of care and vanity. 
 
 A NATIONAL HYMN FOR HARVEST. 
 I. 
 O BLESS the God of harvest, praise Him through the land, 
 Thank Him for His precious gifts. His help, and liberal love ; 
 Praise Him for the fields that have rendered up their riches. 
 And, drest in sunny stubbles, take their Sabbath after toil ; 
 Praise Him for the close-shorn plains, and uplands lying bare. 
 And meadows, where the sweet-breathed hay was stacked in early 
 
 summer ; 
 Praise Him for the wheat-sheaves, gathered safely into barn, 
 And scattering now their golden drops beneath the sounding flail ; 
 Praise Him for the barley-mow, a little hill of sweetness, 
 Praise Him for the clustering hop, to add its fragrant bitter ; 
 Praise Him for the wholesome root, that fattened in the furrow ; 
 Praise Him for the mellow fruits, that bend the groaning bough : 
 For blessings on thy basket, and for blessings on thy store. 
 For skill and labour prospered well by gracious suns and showers, 
 For mercies on the home, and for comforts on the hearth, 
 O happy heart of this broad land, praise the God of harvest ! 
 
 n. 
 
 All ye that have no tongue to praise, we will praise Him for you. 
 And offer on our kindling souls the tribute of your thanks : 
 Trees and shrubs, and the multitude of herbs, gladdening the eyes 
 
 with verdure. 
 For all your leaves and flowers and fruits we praise the God of 
 
 harvest !
 
 
 336 A NATIONAL HYMN FOR HARVEST. 
 
 Birds, and beetles in the dust, and insects flitting on the air, 
 And ye that swim the waters in your scaly coats of mail, 
 And steers, resting after labour, and timorous flocks afold, 
 And generous horses, yoked in teams to draw the creaking wains. 
 For all your lives, and every pleasure solacing that lot, 
 Your sleep, and food, and animal peace, we praise the God of 
 harvest ! 
 
 III. 
 And ye, O some who never prayed, and therefore cannot praise ; 
 Poor darkling sons of care and toil and unillumined night, 
 Who rose betimes, but did not ask a blessing on your work, 
 Who lay down late, but rendered no thank-offering for that blessing 
 Which all unsought He sent, and all unknown ye gathered, — 
 Alas ! for you and in your stead, we praise the God of harvest ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 O ye famine-stricken glens, whose children shrieked for bread. 
 And noisome alleys of the town, where fever fed on hunger, 
 O ye children of despair, bitterly bewailing Erin, 
 Come and join my cheerful praise, for God hath answered prayer : 
 Praise Him for the better hopes, and signs of better times, 
 Unity gratitude contentment, industry peace and plenty ; 
 Bless Him that His chastening rod is now the sceptre of forgive- 
 ness. 
 And in your joy remember well to praise the God of harvest ! 
 
 V. 
 
 Come, gladly come along with me, and swell this grateful song. 
 Ye nobler hearts, old England's own, her children of the soi,l : 
 All ye that sowed the seed in faith, with those who reaped in joy. 
 And he that drove the plough afield, with all the scattered gleaners. 
 And maids who milk the lowing kine, and boys that tend the sheep, 
 And men that load the sluggish wain, or neatly thatch the rick, — 
 Shout and sing for happiness of heart, nor stint your thrilling cheers, 
 But make the merry farmer's hall resound with glad rejoicings. 
 And let him spread the hearty feast for joy at harvest home. 
 And join this cheerful song of praise, — to bless the God of harvest ! 
 
 ■#^
 
 A NATIONAL DIRGE IN TROUBLE. 
 
 
 A NATIONAL DIRGE IN TROUBLE. 
 
 We have sinned, we have sinned with our fathers — O Judge and 
 
 Saviour ! we have sinned ; 
 We had forgotten our God, and His judgments lie heavily upon us: 
 We went aside and did great wickedness, we have transgressed 
 
 His commandments, 
 There is no health in our bones, we are punislied according to our 
 
 sins : 
 Yet would we return to Thee O Lord, acknowledging the guilt of 
 
 our iniquities, 
 And flinging off the burden of it all, if haply Thou wilt bless us 
 
 with repentance : 
 Hear us, O Merciful and Mighty, hear and forgive us in Thy pity, 
 Help Thy people, O Lord, for the sake of our Redeemer Thine 
 
 anointed. 
 
 II. 
 
 Alas ! for our transgressions have been multiplied, and tlierefore 
 Thine anger is upon us ; 
 
 Through grace we would confess them, in sure hope of Thy for- 
 giveness : 
 
 Our cities are foul with sin, evil goeth shameless in our streets. 
 
 Our lanes have lost their innocence, our fields are full of violence ; 
 
 The strong oppress the weak, and the weak defraud the strong, 
 
 And all alike forget their Maker and Preserver ; 
 
 Blasphemy shouteth in the mine, cruelty smiteth on the highway, 
 
 Meanness cheateth at the workshop, tyranny tormenteth in tlie 
 factory : 
 
 Our rich have rioted in luxury, feasting themselves without fear. 
 
 Our poor in bitterness and hate rebel against their poverty ; 
 
 Our prophets have taught lies, our lawgivers thrive upon corruption, 
 
 Our rulers have not ruled in righteousness, nor the people been 
 obedient in godliness. 
 
 Rights are humbled to the dust, while wrongs are throned upon 
 high places, 
 
 Good hath perished from among us, and no man layeth it to heart.
 
 338 ^ NATIONAL DIRGE IN TROUBLE. 
 
 III. 
 
 Therefore the wrath of the Almighty is hot against His people, 
 Therefore He blesseth our enemies, and goeth not forth with our 
 
 armies : 
 Therefore our flocks and herds have perished in their pastures by 
 
 ten thousands, 
 Therefore pestilence and famine have heaped our thresholds with 
 
 the dead ; 
 Our harvests were not gathered, the elements fought against us ; 
 Disease and want and misery are dwellers in our homes ; 
 Our light is turned to darkness, our name is shamed arnong the 
 
 nations. 
 The glory of Britannia is departed, the honour of old England is 
 
 brought low. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Yet, — Holy Lord our God, arise ! pity and forgive Thy people ; 
 
 Put not away Thy mercies, for we will put aside our sins : 
 
 The hireling shall no longer be oppressed, the right of the poor 
 shall be avenged. 
 
 Thy Sabbaths shall be sanctified, Thy tithes and offerings paid ; 
 
 Thy temples shall be full of worshippers, Thy ministers be hon- 
 oured through the land, 
 
 Our prayers and our alms shall go up, acceptably through Jesus 
 unto Thee ; 
 
 We will take no wicked thing in hand, our hearts shall be set against 
 all evil. 
 
 Sin shall not revel in our streets, nor drunkenness pollute our vil- 
 lages ; 
 
 We will return and repent, the Lord our God preventing us, 
 
 We will call Thee Our Father, and Thou shalt be gracious to Thy 
 children ; 
 
 Yea, consider our adversity, withhold not mercy from us ; 
 
 Art Thou not our Father? Are we not Thy children ? 
 
 V, 
 
 Yea ; we will magnify Thy mercy, or ever we have risen from our 
 
 knees, — 
 Thou dost forgive and love us. Thou yet wilt help and save us, — 
 
 -i
 
 A STATION A L PSALM OF VICTORY. 
 
 339 
 
 The plague our iniquities deserved Thy pitifulness will scatter, 
 The flaming sword of punishment shall yet he sheathed in mercy : 
 Therefore unto Thee will we give thanks, even in this time of 
 
 trouble ; 
 With humiliation on our heads, yet will we rejoice in our hearts : 
 Thou slialt go forth with our armies, Thy blessing shall shine on 
 
 our homes, 
 Thou wilt give increase to our flocks, and fill our barns with harvest, 
 Thou shalt favour our England, the Zion of these latter days. 
 And keep her chief among the nations, as she ever was of old ; 
 For happy are the people, even in the midst of sore distresses. 
 Who turn to the Lord their Maker, and trust in Him for mercy 
 
 and deliverance ! 
 
 4^ 
 
 A NATIONAL PSALM OF VICTORY. 
 
 I. 
 
 Blessed be the God of our Israel, praised be the Lord of our Zion, 
 Jehovah hath gone forth with our hosts, and hath given to us vic- 
 tory in the battle ! 
 He is our helper and defender, the rock of our strength and our 
 
 fortress. 
 He hath delivered us in trouble, and saved us from the wrath of 
 
 our enemies ; 
 By Him have we overcome the proud, by Him have we escaped 
 
 the terrible. 
 He sent forth His arrows and scattered them, He shot out His 
 
 lightnings and destroyed them ; 
 He gave us the shield of His salvation, and armed us with the 
 
 spear of victory, 
 He girded us with valour for the fight, and subdued the mighty 
 
 under us ; 
 We will thank Him among the nations. His name will we exalt 
 
 among the heathen. 
 Blessed be the God of our Israel, praised be the Lord of our Zion ! 
 
 IL 
 
 Awake, awake, utter a song ; for God is our sword and buckler ; 
 There were thunders from the Lord out of heaven, hailstones and 
 coals of fire ; 

 
 ^' 340 A NATlOyAL rSALM OF VICTORY. 
 
 Then did the standard-bearers faint, then were the horsehoofs 
 
 broken, 
 There brake He the arrow and bow, and burned their chariots in 
 
 the fire : 
 He breathed on them and they were consumed, He poured on them 
 
 the blast of His displeasure, 
 He brought down their honour to the dust, and made them flee 
 
 before us : 
 Who is God, except the Lord ? Who hath any strength but our 
 
 God? 
 Great deliverance hath He given, and shown great mercy to His 
 
 people ; 
 He alone is to be praised, and unto Him will we pour thank- 
 offerings, — 
 Blessed be the Rock of our strength, let the God of our salvation 
 
 be exalted ! 
 
 III. 
 
 Praise ye the Lord for avenging our Israel, all ye sons of war, 
 
 Praise Him, all ye sons of peace, who offered yourselves so wil- 
 lingly ; 
 
 Praise Him, nobles of the land, with peace restored to your pos- 
 sessions ; 
 
 Praise Him, all ye people, with plenty returning to your homes : 
 
 And thou, chief Mother in Israel, give thanks among thy children. 
 
 That wars have ceased in all the earth, and those who delight in 
 them are scattered ; 
 
 Give thanks that the right is set on high, give thanks that the MTong 
 is trodden down, 
 
 That the teeth of the ungodly have been broken, and the faces oi 
 the righteous been made glad ; 
 
 That England, the Israel of God, is head and chief among the 
 Gentiles, 
 
 Rejoice, O Queen and people, and magnify the Rock of our salva- 
 tion. 
 
 IV. 
 
 And ye, O many sorrowing widows, O thousands of bereaved 
 
 mothers, 
 O fathers mourning for your sons, O friends bewailing friends, 
 
 ^
 
 THE SEVEN SA YINGS. 341 
 
 In the miJbt of your earthly desolation, remember ye how honour- 
 ably they died, 
 As duty bade and noble thoughts and country's love and heaven : 
 Give thanks, for your dear ones are victorious, victorious for either 
 
 world, 
 With names of glory here, and crowns of immortality hereafter ; 
 Give thanks in hope and faith, in charity, strength and patience, 
 And add your wailing minor to our swelling psalm of praise ; 
 May all help freely for your needs, pour balm upon your sorrows, 
 And make you rich in sympathies, and alms and pensioned praise. 
 
 And, O thou Zoar of the plains, O thou Goshen in this Egypt, 
 
 Island city of refuge for the nations of the Earth, 
 
 England, happy shore, hill where the true light shineth. 
 
 Home of real religion, freedom, tolerance, and truth. 
 
 Rejoice and shout the hymn of praise through all the countries 
 
 round. 
 From sea to sea, from land to land, where'er thy flag is flying, 
 Let cannon roar thy thankfulness, and bells clang out thy joy, 
 And prayer and praise and alms go up as incense to High Heaven ; 
 For God hath blest us every way, at home, by sea, by land. 
 And we will thank Him evermore, in prayers and alms and praises. 
 
 THE SEVEN SAYINGS. 
 
 Seven tones in music, seven shades in light, 
 Seven deadly sins, and seven cardinal virtues. 
 Seven angels, seven trumpets, seven seals and vials, 
 Seven thunders, seven plagues, seven spirits of God, 
 Seven stars and seven churches, seven days and niglits, 
 And seven thousand years for earth, and man with seven ages. 
 And seven sages of old Greece, with seven famous proverbs. 
 And seven words of mercy dropped by Christ upon His cross. 
 Keen is the worldly wisdom in those maxims of the sages. 
 And deep the spiritual love in Jesu's seven sayings ; 
 Awhile then, friend, aside with me, to step within the Porch, 
 And after, linger near that Cross for comfort and for counsel.
 
 4 
 
 342 r//£ SE VEN SA YINGS. 
 
 First, with Athenian Solon, "Know thyself," O man ! 
 A humbling lesson and a strange, an thou learn it truly ; 
 Pass by the secrets of creation, till thou hast mastered this, 
 And heed thy good and evil, thy powers and thy duties : 
 Next, with the Spartan Chilo,— whose full heart burst for joy 
 When his good son had triumphed in the great Olympian games, — 
 "Look to the end of life," an end, worth all its midway run- 
 ning. 
 So thou be crowned like that good son, a conqueror in the race : 
 Watch well with Lesbian Pittacus, who flung his net so shrewdly, 
 To "Seize occasion" ere it pass, and so thy chance be gone; 
 Occasion for thy tongue to speak, as for thy hand to strike, 
 Occasion to thy neighbours' help, and in thine own behalf; 
 Let frank and honest Bias tell out bluntly sad experience, 
 " The most of men are evil, " — none are righteous — no, not one ; 
 Ambracian Periander sayeth, " Industry is all," 
 That diligence must win each prize, and conquer every foe ; 
 The graceful Cleobulus prayed well for moderation, 
 Nothing too much, "The mean is best," the happy golden mean ; 
 And cautious Thales filled the sum, with " Haste if thou wouldst 
 
 fail ;" 
 For well he knew that evil haste could never make good speed : 
 So, this was the best flowering of the wisdom of the wise. 
 They served their generation well, those seven Grecian sages. 
 
 Now, let us stand on Calvary beside that sorrowing Mother, 
 And listen to these nobler seven utterances of Jesus. 
 It was the sixth hour, yet blackness hung over all the land, 
 Nature put on mourning for her King, and the eye of day was 
 
 darkened ; 
 And there upon that bitter Cross the Sacrifice is nailed. 
 Heavily hanging in weakness, racked and torn and bleeding ; 
 For three long hours hath He hung, agonized in soul and body, 
 That blessed Christ, embracing all the world with out-stretched 
 
 arms, 
 Lifted between earth and heaven, as if outcast from them both. 
 But drawing all men unto him, in love and adoration. 
 There, without one moan, one murmur, grandly patient, 
 The Lamb endured the uttermost wrath of God against all sin, 
 And ever as the weary hours dragged on in ceaseless torture. 
 At seven throes of pain He dropped His seven precious sayings.
 
 THE SEVEN' SAYINGS. 343 
 
 First, when they reared Him on the nails, and racked Him in the 
 raising, 
 
 How did He greet their crueUy, how requite His murderers? 
 
 His thought was infinite compassion, to put away the greatness of 
 their sin, 
 
 " Father, forgive them, Our Father ! for they know not what they 
 do." 
 
 Lo, what a triumph over self, what a conquering of agony and 
 vengeance. 
 
 How worthy of the suffering Man in whom the Godhead dwelt ! 
 
 Ay, and that prayer was answered, — -The Father did forgive ; 
 
 Those who nailed Him to the cross were martyred for the Christ ; 
 
 So for all time He teacheth us, to forgive as we hope to be for- 
 given. 
 
 Evermore He preacheth intercession, even for the cniellest of foes. 
 
 Beside Him hung on either hand that pair of common thieves, 
 
 For ever famous as His comrades in that darkest hour. 
 
 And as the one contendeth — Save thyself and us, 
 
 And as the other upbraideth, — Dost not thou fear God ? 
 
 Hearken to the gracious word in answer to that prayer, 
 
 Remember me, O Lord, when Thou comest in Thy Kingdom, — 
 
 " To-day shalt thou be with me in the paradise of God !" 
 
 For in faith He asserted even then, in the lowest pit of all those 
 
 depths. 
 His right to redeem and to reward, as the Judge while the Victim 
 
 of Mankind. 
 
 The next " Ah why hast Thou forsaken me, why hast Thou for- 
 saken me, my God?" 
 Our type for prayer in sorrow, when God seemeth so far off. 
 Yet, hath He forsaken His Anointed? Is He not with Him in 
 
 trouble. 
 Though dwelling in the darkness, and with clouds around His 
 
 throne ? 
 The Sacrifice was heaped with sin, and judgment crushed its victim, 
 Therefore in momentary gloom God's eye was turned away : 
 But the great Antitype of David followed on that psalm. 
 And ended, ere its close, with praise for a ransomed universe. 
 
 And now, O weeping mother, O sorrowing dear disciple, 
 
 4
 
 ^^ 344 THE SEVEN SAYINGS. 
 
 Ye twain whom Jesus loved, and who hived Him to the end, 
 " Behold thy mother, O son, O son beliold thy mother," — 
 The richest of bequests to both, that dying Friend could leave. 
 In deep considerate carefulness and self-forgetting grace 
 He taught us kindly to provide for those we leave behind. 
 This world is bleak for them, though stars be opening bright forus ; 
 Let no man's pious hope elsewhere ignore their state on earth : 
 Here is this fourth woi'd's lesson, remember thine own kindred, 
 And in the very throes of death, be generous and be just. 
 
 Then, did He gasp, "I thirst:" He willed fulfilment of the 
 
 Scripture, 
 Humbled down to human wants, parched in the dust of death : 
 As with the woman of Samaria, when he fainted in the tropical 
 
 mid-day. 
 Here His tongue was cleaving, dry to the roof of His mouth, — 
 Therefore gasped He in His agony, — and Heaven heard The Maker 
 Asking for a drop of water, sent to cool his tongue ! 
 And the tender mercies of the cruel have their potion ready. 
 Wine and myrrh to deaden pain, and so prolong panged life ; 
 But He Avill not drink an anodyne ; and so, I thirst, I thirst, 
 Went up as a holy aspiration, conquering the weakness of the flesh : 
 I thirst to do Thy will ; I thirst to win for them salvation ; 
 I thirst, — my soul is athirst to save the world for God ! 
 
 Next, as a Son with His own Father, commendeth He His human 
 
 spirit 
 Manfully and faithfully to God, — yea, "into Thine own hands." 
 Lo, what a pattern unto us, going down into that dark valley — 
 Lo, what encouragement and comfort, in commending our own 
 
 souls thitherward : 
 For He trusted His God and our God, His Father and our Father, 
 And by His great example we will bravely live or die. 
 
 Now lastly, note of triumph, like a blast upon the trumpet, 
 Exultingly with loud last voice, proclaimed He "It is finished 1'' 
 O word of deepest comfort to the doubting fearing soul, 
 O talisman of power to still the storm of conscience ! 
 The happy angels on their harps rejoiced in It is finished. 
 And evil ones heard It is finished, echoed on their thunders : 
 It is finished ; Justice hath been satisfied in full ; 
 
 ^ 
 
 "^
 
 FINAL. 345 
 
 It is finished ; Heaven is free, and open to the lost ; 
 
 It is finished ; Death is dead, and Sin cleaii washed away, 
 
 The watchword of salvation was that seventh It is finished. 
 
 FINAL. 
 
 Who can hope for any ends, in this life-cycle of beginnings ? 
 There is no end to mind or thoughts, or making many boolcs. 
 Where is an end to arts, or sciences, or mysteries of nature, 
 And how should immortal spirits accomplish full development in 
 
 time ? 
 None can work perfection to the uttermost of his thought. 
 The painter, sculptor, author, have no truly finishing touches : 
 Nature is perfect but not Art ; in time we only can begin ; 
 Eternity must deal with ends, and close up all hereafter : 
 Yea, through the ages everlasting, we all shall live and grow, 
 For good or ill, for joy or woe, for endless shame or glory 
 
 Again, I have written at my best, according to the mercies given 
 
 me ; 
 And speak of deeper themes than some I touched in earlier days. 
 Hath thy dog a spirit ? hath my soul its angel ? 
 Is this world so very old? are all creeds mere outworks? 
 Is everything here but a beginning, whose end must rise again ? 
 Is each circumstance a consequence, absolutely everywhere at all 
 
 times ? 
 Can some spirits come again, and haunt their earthly homes ? 
 Are the stars those many mansions for the saints of God ? 
 Is morality the end, and even the Gospel but a mean ? 
 Shall not purity of heart be after all a necessary heaven ? 
 Are all facts so probable, didst thou know their causes, 
 That one might haply prophesy the future from the past? 
 These be among my many speculations, these and scores beyond, 
 And some shall meet with scorn, and some with disputation. 
 
 And many themes beside must challenge special anger ; 
 
 Why turn and rend the jackals, like a leopard brought to bay ? 
 
 Why hint that human life, its double state or single. 
 
 Is either way a failure, and not blessedness at all ? 
 
 How durst he speak so boldly, and so savagely tell truths ?
 
 346 FINAL. 
 
 We hate a prosing Mentor in the gardens of Calypso : 
 Wherefore should he steal old texts from Deborah and Barak, 
 Presumptuously to lead the hymn of Britain in her victories ? 
 Why for times of trouble pilfer, chiefly out of David, 
 Bald phrases fit for Hebrew timbrels, not for English choirs ? 
 And so throughout, O foes, — why this, and why not that ? 
 There is no end of questions, — which shall therefore have no 
 answers. 
 
 And yet for you, O friends, with kinder eyes than others, 
 Whose generous love I cherish as a happier prize than fame, 
 My answers— are they needed ? — may be read on these past pages, 
 With all their leasons writ out plain, in honest Roman hand , 
 Still, not all writ, but hinted ; less is uttered than was thought ; 
 My spirit going forth with yours in charity and frankness : 
 And courage hath its honour ; and not to fear for fame,— 
 But, following conscience with high heart, serenely to forget it: 
 And so, farewell, — in brief, farewell ; we part, but not for ever; 
 If not again to meet on earth, in some bright star hereafter. 
 
 Yea, for that the End is near at hand; the issue of that great 
 experiment 
 
 Wherein, to the teaching of the universe, God hath tested man ; 
 
 For the first time giving to the creature full freedom of the will. 
 
 That he might tempt, six thousand years, the patience of his 
 Maker. 
 
 Now all the prophecies are closed ; Now is the cycle finished ; 
 
 The fields are white with harvest, and the world well-ripe for 
 judgment ; 
 
 Verily, the Christ is nigh to come ; His chariot is made ready. 
 
 The sign of the Son of Man in heaven shall soon be seen, — His 
 Cross upon the skies ; 
 
 And then all enigmas shall be solved, true justice must be ren- 
 dered, 
 
 The churches and the kingdoms and the antichrists, the saints, the 
 world, the martyrs, 
 
 All shall be shown to have achieved the ends of their existence. 
 
 And Providence be proved throughout the sister-twin of Grace. 
 
 -#-
 
 FOURTH AND FINAL SERIES. 
 
 ^ 
 
 OPENING. 
 
 A LATE last call among the mountains, echoed in the chambers of 
 
 my heart, 
 Wakeneth yet again its tlioughtful mental inmate ; 
 A lingering questioner at Delphi, claiming his oracular response, 
 Urgeth my unwilling tongue to utterance once more : 
 Let then the hazelwand dip shrewdly, pointing at new veins of 
 
 metal, 
 Or where the spade of diligence may tap some bubbling spring ; 
 Let our baited handlines hang round these old rowlocks, 
 And tempt the shoals of fancy till some fish are jjulled aboard : 
 Thus, many lifelong friends ! shall I greet your love again, 
 Tlius, my few brief foes ! I meet your frowns unfearing ; 
 The one sort eager for a word, spoken from heart to heart,— 
 The other, — let them rave, and sneer at shallow prophets ! 
 These are the last perilous times, foretold for questioners and 
 
 scoffers, — 
 But blest is he that hath not sat upon the scorner's chair ; 
 And still another blessedness is linked with such reviling, 
 Where, borne M'ith patience for His sake, their ill-report was false. 
 
 There be spurs and springs of various kind, inciting energy to 
 
 action, 
 By pain or pleasure, as Good Providence may will, but either way 
 
 combining to His ends :
 
 ■-•'-^ ^^- --**—■ 
 
 4- 
 
 348 orENING. 
 
 Tlie salmon, harried by its leech, runneth out of ocean up the 
 
 rivers, 
 To rub and cleanse its silver scales, and drop its spawn on gravel ; 
 Then, hunted from those shallows by some other insect plague, 
 Lank and spent down-speedeth to the sea, to salt its strength 
 
 anew : 
 Even so energy with leisure, or need, or thirst for fame, 
 Provoketh still-reluctant souls to still-recurring effort. 
 
 Look at those barebacked racers, with their parasitic spurs, — 
 When Rome on her last Carnival-day filleth the round of folly ; 
 They feel the pricking rowel, they run against their will. 
 The crowd is faced because they must, and not because they like 
 
 it, 
 And so they dash in headlong flight adown the roaring Corso, 
 Suddenly flung upon their haunches, in terror of those tapestries 
 
 ahead. 
 Thus ever some sharp craving, necessitous or yearnful, 
 Obligeth unto labour those who sought and sighed for rest : 
 Conscience hath its sting ; we must speak out for honour ; 
 The light and life within a man may not be quenched nor hid. 
 So then with all the truer scribes, not brain spinners for lucre 
 But those who empty out their hearts and minds because they 
 
 must, 
 There always is a force within them spiriting the pen, 
 A. cause and need-be for their works, in prose or rhyme or rhythm. 
 
 Freeborn instincts of religion, shrinking away from priestcraft, 
 
 Love of antiquarian lore, imaginative fancies, 
 
 Early scorn for meannesses hypocrisies and lies. 
 
 And buds of undeveloped thought and passion and affection, 
 
 These have been the keynotes of my spirit, giving out their tones 
 
 in books, 
 With energetic conscience that never could keep silence. 
 I must tell out mine honest mind, nor meanly hush and gag it ; 
 I must say all I have to say, and that in mine own way ; 
 Alone, or in a crowd, with heedless independence 
 Still have I poured forth thoughts in words by rhythm or by 
 
 rliyme. 
 Often on the shingled beach, or rambling in the woods. 
 Or keeping timely measure with the paces of my horse,
 
 OF THIS BOOK'S SrOA'Y. 
 
 349 
 
 Often draining music from the silence of the night, 
 
 Or more contemplative in streets, and calm within their whirlpool. 
 
 And it hath somewhile come to pass, that men who fear for 
 
 frankness 
 Self-conscious they have well-deserved some honest stern rebuke, 
 Have answered kindliness with scorn, and zeal for good with 
 
 hatred, 
 Letting me lose, by that much gain, the censure of their praise. 
 What matter? — such may stand aside, to leave free way for others, 
 The gentler and more generous hearts, long loved by me of old ; 
 And even should these fall away (for all things here are changing) 
 What matter ? Life is full of common friends who come and go : 
 And a man that liveth in himself (with love for all outside him, 
 So those outside be worthy,) can live and love alone ; 
 If outer worths be wanting, his love can shine within, — 
 But not on self, — that nobler sunshine beameth up to God. 
 
 
 OF THIS BOOK'S STORY. 
 
 He then who, forty years agone, took up this rhythmic strain, 
 
 And since hath freely poured his heartful over every land 
 
 In songs and sonnets, ballads, hymns, and lyrics and heroics, 
 
 In stories essays and translations, travel-tale, and plays. 
 
 Now will resume, for this last time, his first old style of Proverbs, 
 
 And then for ever lay aside the harp of Sirach's son. 
 
 In earliest youth, eight lustres back, my thoughts on Love and 
 
 Marriage 
 Crystallized to proverb form, as ye may read them now : 
 And nine years after those young themes were written and 
 
 forgotten 
 At once, upon an instant call, my first whole book flowed out, 
 Flowed out rapidly, as thoughts will flow, pent-in with long 
 
 forbearance, 
 And writ on scraps, at idle times, within a dozen weeks : 
 Thereafter, at long interval, my second came as called. 
 One lustrum having sped away, and other Avorks been printed ; 
 It came as called, and suddenly, a cistern overflowing, 
 Gathered unconsciously five years, but poured out in two months,
 
 4 
 
 ^ 
 
 350 OF THIS BOOK'S STOR V. 
 
 With earliest rill, responsive, in the Chapter upon Gifts, 
 To greet with philosophic thanks a Giver and Receiver, 
 
 Then the full quarter of a century, with its thousand interests, 
 Passed away, carrying on its stream unnumbered Sibylline leaves : 
 In all those years, with all their changes, never by one word — 
 Nothing omitted, nothing added — were these two books altered ; 
 Too well a world of friends in either hemisphere had liked them 
 \ For mere fastidious caprice to blot the lines they loved ; 
 So, conscience witting no great faults beyond some smaller 
 
 failings, 
 I would not change in hope of better what my kin thought good : 
 Thus the years sped by, cropped with innumerable writings, 
 Greeted alike with praise and blame, with ridicule and honour ; 
 Till, at a call as theretofore, flowed forth my third among the 
 
 series, 
 Rolling speedily along, and to outer seeming carelessly, 
 Thouglits flowing as a torrent, though not of torrent birth, 
 But long conceived through twenty years, and writ out seven 
 
 times : 
 And now this voice among the mountains claimeth a concluding 
 
 fourth, 
 Uwin volumes having each two books, my full quadrupled harvest. 
 At each of these four seasons, an end was meant and planned, 
 And ravel-skeins were gathered-up in hope the web was finished ; 
 And yet, till now when all is done, led onward, haply upward, 
 I guessed not that Pythagoras could praise my fourfold Work. 
 
 Neither is this last harvest other than more ripened fruit, 
 
 Not lees, nor idle dregs, but richer cream to close the milking ; 
 
 Best wine cometh at the last ; the king to end the pageant ; 
 
 Studies thinkings and experiences converging in their climax. 
 
 Nought is heedlessly set down, but thoughtfully all and staidly. 
 
 Matured, considered, well-advised, nor lightly to be altered. 
 
 Truth is active and severe, not indolent or easy ; 
 
 A bright and changeless jewel, not some tinsel soon to tarnish. 
 
 And there be diamonds still to find in the running hourglass of 
 
 Time, 
 All the sand is not searched out, though keen have been the 
 
 pickers : 
 It may be Boaz hath Oeen thrifty, with no indulgent reapers.
 
 ^ 
 
 OF THIS BOOK'S STORY. 351 
 
 For well nigh all words on all things have long been said and 
 
 printed ; 
 
 But still our modern Ruths may pile their horns with gleaning, 
 And leave for others even then a gathering yet to clear. I 
 
 They have grown in unpremeditated guise, these weeds of my 
 
 mind's garden, I 
 
 Were cut and stored at random, and uncarefully got in, 
 Gathered more as wood-wild-flowers, than reaped like well-farme<l 
 
 crops. 
 And garnered thus collectively, at speed with little lal)our. I 
 
 Let truths be frankly spoken, whether critics blame or praise ; j 
 
 These fallows of my brain are rank with thoughts uncultured ; ' 
 
 Self-sowing, after many days they yield a bounteous crop, 
 And ever grow spontaneously, of uninvited impulse, , i 
 
 Spontaneously, not idly, nor void of earnest purpose, > 
 
 But still some testimony to give, some message to deliver. 
 In spirit this my book hath been the record of my life, 
 A photograph of thoughts and things for wellnigh forty years : 
 I painted often from the facts, in pictures of experience. 
 And every thought was measured, and its just expression weighed; 
 I never forced Minerva's will, nor stole my thoughts from others. 
 Nor drained the palm-wine sap of books, nor strove to swell a 
 
 volume ; 
 Rather, conscience cast aside what other minds could claim. 
 And still condensed ideas, despismg word-dilution. 
 Only a tithe is stored, the nine parts lie ungarnered ; 
 Only the alphabet is here of works half-schemed unwritteru 
 Always thinking at a heat, as a Geyser bursting upward. 
 The spring was never dug, nor pumped when it ceased flowing ; 
 And thougli the rush seemed sudden, yet it had long lain hid 
 Collected inadvertently as in some mental cavern : 
 So then the critic is at fault, who judgeth that the poem must be 
 
 careless, 
 Running clear and sharp a cast without the touch of file ; 
 Such is not a mushroom of the mind, but rather as its adamantine 
 
 prism 
 Flowered from the everlasting rock through deep volcanic heat : 
 And he were still more utterly at fault, in fancying no file-labour ; 
 Years, — and years, — of studious toil are witnessed in this book : 
 Musing reverie by night, and day's fastidious care. 
 
 ^
 
 ^ 
 
 ^^/ 
 
 352 OF THIS BOOK'S STORY. 
 
 Have often slowlier crystallized my fancy's quick creations ; 
 And doubtless old-conned knowledge, unconsciously and freely, 
 As drained from all around, is somewhile drawn from memory's 
 
 well ; 
 And lifelong diligence had heaped a cairn for ready using, 
 Whereby my castle grew apace with all materials near. 
 So then the lighter labour was but lighter for the time ; 
 A juggler's instant skill hath been long years alearning j 
 And stanzas improvised prove but abundant culture, — 
 Arguing ingrained genius too, beyond some surface talent. 
 The highest art is hiding art, to seem spontaneous nature ; 
 And even nature in some sort is seen the fruit of toil : 
 God rested from His labour, — our ensample for that day: 
 Ilis Sabbath closed tlie week cf work prepared through myriad 
 
 rcons. 
 
 And nov? my task is done, my better toil in life ; 
 
 The lessons I was set to learn, and then was sent to teach. 
 
 Here is the statue of my mind, self-moulded carved and polished. 
 
 Some elemental clay and marble only not mine own ; 
 
 Here is the picture of my heart, touch by touch self-painted, 
 
 Canvas alone and colours caught of Circumstance beyond : 
 
 Seeds of thought were dropt by books to genninate thereafter, 
 
 And tones of feeling learnt from all the melodies around ; 
 
 We guess not whence nor when nor how we earn our mental 
 
 gains ; 
 Continuously through outer things the inner man is fasliioned, 
 
 { And let them carp at egotism : heart should speak to heart, 
 ! And plain self-consciousness work out his fancies and his feelings : 
 ,' To guage thy brother by thyself can scarcely be found selfish. 
 Since, by the love we bear ourselves, we judge him thus in 
 charity: 
 -• And those who draw from their own wells are clear of stealing 
 water ; 
 Albeit the charge forsooth would then be filching others' wine : 
 So, let them rave of plagiarism : mind is helped by mind, 
 TSut each can mould and make his own what haply served his 
 
 neighbour. 
 Dodsley, Bacon, Franklin, and the Commonwealth of Wits, 
 And dealers in dark sentences, and gatherers of proverbs. 
 
 ■^
 
 OF THIS BOOK'S STORY: 353 
 
 Mine innocence hath afore been blamed for borrowing from the 
 
 like, 
 When ignorance was nighcr truth of aught that such had written. 
 I wot not, by intention, of a sentence or a fancy 
 Which any man can claim or prove not honestly mine own. 
 No doubt, the Hebrew Scriptures, graven deeply on my spirit, 
 Have filled it with their echoes and their rhythm and pith and 
 
 strength ; 
 No doubt, remembered thoughts and words of common education. 
 Rooted in the mind for years, may seem of its own growth ; 
 No doubt, with keen and spiteful care some phrases might be 
 
 found 
 That other men have lUtered once, as others will again ; 
 But none can touch a line or word deliberately stolen ; 
 As none can find in any book a word not used elsewhere. 
 
 ■4 
 
 And let them sneer at commonplace, this dull old stilted style, 
 
 Heavy, as full of weighty thoughts, too large for little minds : 
 
 A proverb is intense expression of condensed idea ; I 
 
 One pithy line more pregnant than many a windy volume. 
 
 Point is here, and polish, and various musical rhythm, 
 With concentrated fancies in exact and careful wording. 
 Not only by the trick of rhyme and mingling of sweet sounds, 
 Nor fixing in bright language volatile thought? and feelings. 
 Not by the seeing eye alone, discerning hidden likeness. 
 Nor by the musing mind enriched with learned illustration, — 
 But by pure life, and life's best aim, is the true workman wit 
 
 nessed ; 
 A poet hath abjured his calling, if no longer pure. 
 Hath any high-class sculptor ever glorified the lewd ? 
 Did ever painter of great name descend to the obscene? 
 Even so, no true poet can outrage God and nature 
 Profanely and indecently, and be a poet still : 
 There are such fallen angels, lying with broken wings 
 And all those rainbow feathers singed by cruel fires of lust. 
 Who cannot rise themselves, nor have the power to raise us : 
 How should we rank these lost black stars with constellated 
 
 poets? 
 A Siren-rhyme may charm, but its charming is for drowning ; 
 Poetic vice is poisonous as a rotten-mouldered melon. 
 There be some seers, — and prophetesses,— in and out among us 
 
 iy.
 
 Y 354 OF THIS BOOK'S STOR Y. 
 
 •' Who mingle Sappho with Petronius for their prose and verse, 
 
 \ Eager to fascinate the young, and heat the veins of age 
 
 !i By luscious pictures of sweet sin, or scenes of hideous crime, 
 
 i And tangling-vip their cotton yarns of ridicule and pathos 
 
 \ To stuff the world's long Midas-ears with slander and sensation : 
 I They shall not live, they cannot last ; tliey perish in the using ; 
 Like medlar-fruits that eat unflavorous if not rotten ripe : 
 Book-bubbles of a minute ! though so brilliant and bepraised, 
 Before they touch the stream of time they burst in middle air. 
 And for the scribes who write such books, so bankrupt of all 
 i good, 
 
 : How broken-down themselves full oft in character and fortune ! 
 
 \ Be these thy rabbis, Israel? are those thy teachers, England? 
 \ Go to ! — we read for pastime, not for profit, in these days : 
 ; And as to reverence for such scribes, we laugh to scorn their 
 
 \ quarrels, 
 
 » ITow like wild dogs they snarl and bite and fight with one another, 
 
 I Only united when achase of some stout hart at bay, 
 
 \ Whose royal head shall haply fling them howling from its antlers ! 
 
 I 
 
 1 These are times when froth and trifles on the popular gale 
 
 J Scud flying everywhere to catch our grown-up children's fancy; 
 
 \ And conscience well may choose to wait for wiser days foreseen, 
 
 I When taste and sense anon shall oust the rubbish of the hour ; 
 
 \ When thought again shall hunt a-field with staunchcr hounds for 
 
 j scent 
 
 \ Than these scratch-packs, and hireling jades, and their subscription 
 
 \ riders. 
 
 I So then, my book is finished ; and, with all its thousand faults, 
 I gladly bless it as work done that cannot be undone : 
 Sweet is the end, quoth Aristotle ; doubly sweet if good ; 
 I dare be thankful for such work, humbly and proudly thankful ; 
 Humbly, for my God hath helped, yea given me all I have ; 
 Proudly, for my brother-men have mainly striven to hinder : 
 And spite of all their ridicule, their slanders and their sneers, 
 Alone I have achieved, alone have fought and conquered. 
 Condemn not, as a Jeffries might, hurriedly and untried ; 
 Read throughly; it hath been your wont to judge without the 
 
 hearing : 
 But still consider of these writings, cast in a solemn mould. 
 
 
 n 

 
 OF THE BIBLE. 355 
 
 And filled with weightier thoughts than hasty critics care *o wait 
 
 for, 
 That Cleobulus wisely spake, Never too mnch at once : 
 Leibig is for lozenges, a morsel for a meal. 
 And note how readily for ease poor wits can riot here, 
 Those schoolboy-archers, shooting close, are sure to hit the target; 
 Fools may always raise a laugh by parodies and puns ; 
 They can burlesque the Bible ; they have travestied great Shak- 
 
 speare : 
 How well then may such scoffers be goodnaturedly despised, — 
 How wisely every worthier scribe will follow no such fooling ! 
 
 And yet, — I covet no man's praise, — though thankful for his love; 
 
 I care for no man's censure, unless conscience countersign it : 
 
 Quoting the worthies of old time, I will rejoice with them ; 
 
 A true book is more lasting than the monumental brass : 
 
 Let come what will, nor fire, nor storm, nor swoixl, nor tooth of 
 
 time 
 Can blast this record of my soul, or blot it out of being; 
 With Horace I can sing, I shall not altogether die,— 
 With Ovid, Ennius, David, I shall not die, but live. 
 
 OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 It were seemly that a Scripture for all nations should be styled 
 
 universally The Book, 
 That under one great Master-mind many scribes should write it, 
 That every letter of its text should have been well watched by 
 
 warders, 
 And that one special people should conserve it for mankind. 
 
 It were not seemly that such Scripture, meant for duties here, 
 Should venture deep on other themes than morals and religion : 
 Science would be hinted, not exhausted ; now and then a word, 
 Enough to prove its conscious Author chose the higher topics : 
 So then, worldly knowledge, albeit in no sort quenched, 
 Would thus be left to reason, as less worthy revelation ; 
 And all we need to look for, or to learn from out The Book, 
 Are teachings of religion, not the secret things of science..
 
 
 4- 
 
 356 OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 And yet how many gainsayers complain that man's great Guide 
 To hoHer tlioughts and better life, and higher worlds than ours, 
 Doth scantly condescend an ear to reason's curious tongue, 
 That asketh endless questions of small moment to man's soul. 
 Our record runneth : God made all. The how, the why, the when, 
 These are but idle queries, and the Maker doth not heed them. 
 Our knowledge is, that on a day ITe placed a man in Eden, 
 And gave him for his heritage the newly ordered globe ; 
 Set him duties, tested him, and when he fell, restored him. 
 And helped till now his children, whose children all are we. 
 Age after age, by tongue or symbol, records of our race 
 Were kept by holy men of old, obedient to high teaching ; 
 And these primeval writings, with the like of later time, 
 Are come to us an heirloom, — the Scriptures of The Book. 
 
 Doubtless, though well guarded from great errors in the main, 
 It were not likely that no faults were dropt by many writers ; 
 To conscience and his reason God leaveth freeborn man. 
 The twain enough for lower needs, though grace may help all 
 
 higher. 
 So let those points and accents be, as some are right or wrong, 
 The strong root-words, the living thoughts, are God's own 
 
 revelation ; 
 And copiers and translators, with every care and skill. 
 May yet be some while found at fault, and well to be corrected. 
 And so the little (noways much) of failings in The Book 
 Is due to scribes who blotted what at first was fairly written. 
 
 IIow manifold the Bible ! how majestic in variety ! 
 
 History, poems, proverbs, parable, biography, and doctrine, — 
 
 How rich in all the ornaments and dignity of eloquence ! 
 
 In annals as in prophecies how simple and sublime ! 
 
 How full of quaint old stories, and of chivalrous adventure. 
 
 And whisperings of the birth of time, as mutterings of its death ! 
 
 How fragrant is the incense of its praises and its prayers ! 
 
 How comforting its promises, how precioiis are its precepts ! 
 
 How wise, and kind, and pure, and good, its influence on the 
 
 soul ! 
 How strong its hold upon the heart, its power within the mind ! 
 It speaketh peace to sinners, and high wisdom to the sage ; 
 It is the traveller's guide-book, and the missionary's treasure -•
 
 --^ 
 
 *► 
 
 OF THE BIBLE. 357 ^ 
 
 The mother for her sailor-boy hath stored it in his locker, 
 
 The soldier at his foreign quarter poreth on its page, 
 
 The pious merchant's Bible will be posted near his ledger, 
 
 The very beggar sometimes hath it hidden in his rags. 
 
 It shovveth in their action all the attributes of God, 
 
 His mercy, His omnipotence. His wisdom, and His justice ; 
 
 It well displayeth every class and character of men. 
 
 Their guilt and their repentings, their happiness and woe. 
 
 No heroes equal Bible heroes— martyrs, captains, kings, 
 
 Joshua, David, Daniel, all the worthies' of old time ; 
 
 No stories are like Bible stories, exquisitely told, — 
 
 Isaac, Joseph, Ruth, and Job, and Samson, and Elijah. 
 
 Romance hath borrowed Bible exploits for its fabulous knights, 
 
 And Poesy from Bible wells hath drawn its richest nectar ; 
 
 The minds of all our wisest have been moulded on its themes, 
 
 The hearts of all our purest have been chastened by its lessons : 
 
 And all the best of Adam's race that ever lived and died 
 
 Have lived in faith and died in hope through blessing from the 
 
 Bible. 
 It is that truer tree of life, whose roots are in the Rock, 
 Whose trunk is strong as Lebanon, whose boughs outstretch the 
 
 cedars ; 
 Whose buds and flowers and fruits arc for the healing of all 
 
 nations. 
 Whose leaves shall never wither, but are green for evermore ! 
 
 Well read out, with earnest voice, by one that understandeth, 
 
 The Word of God is eloquence beyond all human speech : 
 
 But common readers, slow of heart, and ignorant in mind, 
 
 Contrive to deaden half its life, to darken half its light ; 
 
 And some, on silly system, still abjure dramatic effort. 
 
 With feeble tones and vulgar notes ensuring all things dull ; 
 
 While, fairly spoken forth and with a feeling elocution. 
 
 The Scriptures have a might and a magnificence all their own. 
 
 And there is scanter need for long diluted exposition, 
 
 If he that readeth understandeth, and can read aright ; 
 
 But slender learning in the Greek, and gross contempt for 
 
 Hebrew, 
 And little knowledge of all knowledge far too often shown. 
 And lack of able utterance, and the lead-weight of routine. 
 These obscure the text so much they half excuse the sermon.
 
 •^ <^ — ' — ' — —   ' <> 
 
 t 358 OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 I Also, there is some just need for wise and true revision, 
 
 5 Seeing our English tongue hath clianged and grown by growth of 
 
 j years. 
 
 I If one could "eat damnation," who would tempt the terrible 
 
 morsel ? 
 
 The letters of Bellerophon should ask to such a feast. 
 
 Yet how continually feeble souls, through tliat wrong phrase alone, 
 
 Are troubled all their lives as by a lion in the way. 
 
 Christ rested with the holy dead ; His soul was never in "hell :" 
 
 That word ill-rendered still confoundeth Hades with Gehenna. 
 
 And other spotted places more might claim the Royal touch, 
 
 For close correction is a needbe of these searcliing times. 
 \ A flyleaf for our Bibles, with its list of mended texts, 
 
 A volume well compounded of all causes for amendment. 
 
 This were the simple wisdom for our heads in Church and State ; 
 
 But, with no thought of change in style, — the solid English 
 j strength, 
 
 So statue-like, so graphic, and so simple and sublime, — 
 
 Only the lightest touch in phrase to heal up evil faults, 
 • That were enough ; all else as now imchanged for texts and 
 
 j teachings : 
 
 ! The dear old Family Bible should be still our champion volume. 
 
 The Medo-Persic law to us, the standard of our Rights. 
 
 I In this our day, an evil day of change and misbelief. 
 
 When craft and ignorance and sin are leagued against religion, 
 ' When every keen objector is hailed with guilty joy, 
 
 j And shallow sceptics imabashed deny or doubt the Bible, 
 
 Great is the comfort where a man can feel his soul is strong 
 In simple trast on Scriptural trutli, as simply as in childhood. 
 It is a joy, an honour, yea a wisdom, to declare 
 A boundless, an infantile faith in our dear English Bible I 
 
 The garden, and the apple, and the serpent, and the ark, 
 And every word in every verse, and in its literal meaning. 
 And histories and prophecies and miracles and visions, 
 ' In spite of learned unbelief, — we hold it all plain truth : 
 
 Not blindly, but intelligently, after search and study ; 
 Hobbes and Paine considered well, and Germany and Colenso. 
 The closer to the strict old text, the Bible still is clearer ; 
 The more examined ever still more curiously exact : 
 
 ^i. 
 
 A
 
 ^%. 
 
 OF THE BIBLE. 359 \ 
 
 t 
 
 Assyria, Edom, Pctra, Zion,— from them all unearth 
 
 ^Vhatcver of old works ye will, these illustrate the Bible : 
 
 The sixty cities of Og are standing yet in Bashan ; : 
 
 The Pyramids, the Sculptured Wadys, and the Mount of Bel, 
 
 The marble slabs of Nineveh, and Tadmor in the desert, 
 
 All witness to its truth alike : Herodotus as Josephus. 
 
 The Bible made us what we are, the mightiest Christian nation,— 
 
 The Bible buildetli in each man his character and mind, 
 
 From cradle hymns to wedlock, and through grey hairs to tlie 
 
 grave, 
 At every step in life the Holy Bible is our helper : 
 ^Ye have none other Lamp to guide us through this darkling world, 
 No other staff, nor scrip, nor shoe, nor viand by the way, 
 No gentler nurse in sickness, no warmer friend in health, 
 No better comforter, companion, teacher than the Bible : 
 Every word within it hath been watered by saints' tears ; ; 
 
 Every blessed page thereof been died-for by the martyrs : I 
 
 To eyes that see, it shineth ; to ears that hear, it speaketh ; j 
 
 To minds that know, it standeth out, as far before the age. | 
 
 Modern science cannot find it obsolete or false, | 
 
 Every new discovery but proving it more true. \ 
 
 The crusts of earth, the races, and the languages of men, \ 
 
 The laws of light and life, of chemistry and motion, | 
 
 So wisely touched and hinted at, are wisely then passed by ; | 
 
 Man's reason would have nought to do, forerun by revelation. : 
 
 And let them boast the Talmud : should not Rabbis, Doctors, 
 
 Scribes 
 Have taught that Holy Cliild the very best of Jewish wisdom? 
 Yet, let them note, the Christ had left this world four hundred 
 
 years, | 
 
 Or ever from its oral state that Talmud was collected ; | 
 
 So then, Jews had caught from Christ those teachings in tlie ' 
 
 Talmud 
 Some pundits are so quick to hint our Moral Teacher stole, ; 
 
 Yea, spite of all the learned zeal to prove the Bible false. 
 
 Their reckonings and disputings, and their eager hunt foi 
 
 •In spite of all their casuistry, discoveries, statistics, 
 And every sceptic effort of apostates, clerk and lay, 
 
 errors, — - % 
 
 '^t
 
 36o OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 The Bible is but stablished by its gainsayers and assailants, 
 And all its difficulties die, though galvanized to live. 
 Their diggings in the mud of Egypt, and the caves of France, 
 Their searchings of old shellmounds and of pilestumps in the 
 
 lakes, 
 Their scrutiny of languages, and chronicles, and races, 
 Their evil rage and scornful hate against the Blessed Book, 
 All corroborate old texts, and illustrate old truths. 
 Serving to prove that man on eartli was last-born of creation. 
 Showing their scorching inquisition as a refiner's fire. 
 And with their burning-glasses testing still the unchanged gold. 
 
 The Bil^le, standing in its strength a pyramid foursquare, 
 The plain old English Bible, a gem with all its flaws, 
 That Bible, not the priest, nor the ordinance, 'nor the church, 
 {However sped by pastor, house of prayer, and simplest worship,) 
 That book of books, next to the Christ whereof it ever telleth, 
 Is still the heaven-blest fountain of conversion and salvation. 
 The peasant and the prince alike drink gladly of that well. 
 It comforteth with equal care the pauper and the statesman; 
 The widow and her orphans, from the palace to the cottage. 
 Are yearning on the Bible in glad reverence night and day ; 
 The rough backwoodsman pondereth its pages in his cabin. 
 Thence going to his sturdy toil, a purer stronger man ; 
 Beneath its influence mutineers become an isle of saints, 
 And convicts in their prison-cells are changed to heirs of glory ; 
 Its presence giveth evident peace and light to this Swiss Canton, 
 While its mere absence from that neighbour breedeth strife and 
 
 sin ; 
 It maketh Scotland great and gooci, blest with a shining Bible, 
 While Erin still is miserable, as hiding-up that ligli't : 
 It is the voice of God to man, encouraging and warning. 
 It is the speech of man to God, in sampled prayer and praise ; 
 It is the golden thread of life, and strung with precious pearls. 
 Hung on each Christian infant's neck, its best baptismal birthright, 
 The amulet and anodyne and jewel of our race, 
 To soothe us in this vale of tears, and cheer our path to heaven- 
 
 ^ 
 
 > 
 -^
 
 
 OF HOME 361 '^ 
 
 O F H O I\I E, 
 
 Infinitely varied, as willi marriage, from heights to lowest 
 
 deptlis, 
 From pleasantness and peace to miserable contentions, 
 For every heart the thought of Home will bring its special 
 
 difference. 
 As varying truth may testify to sorrows or to joys. 
 An exile yearneth over Home in long romancing absence. 
 But oft his yearnings are fulfilled by realized disappointment ; 
 The dreaming soldier longeth for his mother's wayside cottage, 
 The sailor museth on his watch about the wife ashore : 
 But what if crime and penury, if shame and sin be there ? 
 How saddened into wormwood is the honied thouglit of Home ! 
 With one man, all his memories will be piety and love, 
 A gentle mother's goodness, and a noble father's care ; 
 With anotlier, let him search the past as far back as he can, 
 It was an atmosphere of strife, all troubles and no comfort : 
 Here, is a soul that oweth all its wealtli for heaven and earth 
 To pure affections, bright examples, wisdoms learnt of Home j 
 There, is a spirit ill-conditioned,"" outcast and rebellious from its 
 
 birth, 
 Whose cruel parents in that Home had only taught it evil : 
 Some were born at a liberal hearth, warm with genial liospitalitics, 
 Some at the board of meanness, amid sordid shifts and tlirifts ; 
 To those a recollected home were crowds of hearty friends. 
 To these penurious carefulness, a blank and frozen solitude : 
 One goeth homeward from his toil to rest and peace and plenty, 
 Greeted on the threshold by his cleanly goodwife's kiss ; 
 His neighbour meanwhile met by that old slattern left at home 
 With the quick hailstorm of her tongue in quarrelling and worry. 
 
 Joy for the happiness of Home ! where peace content affection 
 
 Shine a triple sun to bathe in bliss that little world : 
 
 There the good angel of the house, the mother wife and mistress, 
 
 With gentle care and thoughtful love is ministering life ; 
 
 There in firm wisdom ruleth well the father husband master. 
 
 Heaping it with prosperities, as guardian guide and judge : 
 
 There the sons obey, diligently heeding duties, 
 
 There the cheerful daughters plan their charities for all. 
 
 There with no eyeservice, but in honest faith and truth,
 
 • V 
 
 362 OF HOME. 
 
 The family domestics work, and worship witli their betters ; 
 
 While all the neighbours round about, and scores of friends far off, 
 S Point to that house and praise it well, the happy Home of Chris- 
 
 i tians. 
 
 5 O beautiful in essence is that angel in the house, 
 
 j The gentle charitable wife, its pure presiding spirit, 
 
 ! So patient with all troubles, and so cheerful under changes, 
 
 i So full of help to others, so forgetful of herself; 
 
 I O husband, gladly praise her ! O ye children, call her blessed ! 
 
 \ For all her works and words shall hail her, at the gates of 
 \ heaven. 
 
 t 
 
 [ And, — woe for the wretchedness of Home ! — where clamour 
 
 I care and discord 
 
 I Enwrap that desolate small sphere in whirlwinds of contention ; 
 
 \ There, all rule is at an end ; extravagance, disorder, 
 
 [ And discontented selfishness are harpies at each meal ; 
 
 ' There the father is not honoured, neither is the master served, 
 There the husband pineth, disenchanted, without love ; 
 There the thriftless brothers scorn to redeem young days, 
 But waste their chances in first years for afterlife-repentance j 
 There the pining sisters ever meditate escape, 
 Dreaming in hope of some calm home, far other than their 
 
 father's ; 
 Because the hearth they long to leave, curst by its evil angel. 
 Irascible and jealous and unreasonably capricious, 
 Is ever hot with hatreds, and perilous from quarrels, 
 A married fury blighting there the slandered name of Mother ! 
 So, the very hirelings will scoff, and scorn to take such service. 
 And neighbours whisper as they pass, and friends are scared 
 
 away. 
 And Home, that was the name for peace, is synonymed with strife, 
 An earthly pandemonium through that termagant of wedlock. 
 
 Alas ! the woeful change,— for once she had been worshipped, 
 In early years, ere sweet young Love had blown to bitter 
 
 Marriage : 
 But now her image, long that idol in affection's temple, 
 Lieth as a broken Dagon on its ruined floor ; 
 For the contentions of a wife have banned, instead of blessing. 
 The beauteous fane of Hymen, and the cheerful hearth of Home.
 
 -^^ 
 
 OF HOME. 363 
 
 Who can estimate the torments worked by tongue and temper, 
 Those dislocations on the rack, of comfort and of love ? 
 There be tortm-es, cruel as at Avignon, wearing out saints of God, 
 Drop by drop maddening the brain with constant household 
 
 worries ; 
 There be moral harrowings and sawings, as David wrought at 
 
 Rabbah, 
 That lacerate the feeling heart year after year continually : 
 Silver weddings may have been, but more are forged of iron, — 
 Though few dare hint hard truths like these, and flatter or ignore 
 
 them. 
 Let the adultress be forgiven, let foolish extravagance go free. 
 But who can bear with temper and tongue to seventy times seven ? 
 Changeable passionate and hateful, plagued with unreasoning ani- 
 mosities. 
 That bitter lawful-wife is still the bane and blight of Home : 
 Woe for that bed of nettles, woe for that nest of hornets. 
 Woe to the sensitive and gentle in their married lives ! 
 Provocation irritation usurpation iteration vacillation accusation. 
 Every phrase of malice in every note of harshness, 
 Prejudices jealousies and strifes, contention hate confusion. 
 Every phase of ill from weakness up to wickedness, — 
 All these have often cursed the Home, through ill-assorted 
 
 marriage. 
 And many wives and husbands here will own they read their fates : 
 O noble hearts and generous minds ! if still they smile unsoured 
 Through lingering years of petty torment caused by such bad 
 
 Homes : 
 For it is a veritable martyrdom some best have had to bear 
 That tyranny of wedlock with a wicked man, or woman. 
 Did not our glorious Milton feel it, tokened by his Doctrine of 
 
 Divorce ? 
 Is not the matchless Shakspeare a like witness even in his testa- 
 ment ? 
 Hooker was judicious in all else, but a wife who burnt his books ; 
 And Palissy and Wesley were martyrs as to marriage ; 
 While Job, and Socrates, and Moses, justified of old 
 The proverb of wise Solomon against a wife's contentions. 
 
 They mould each other, man and woman ; make or mar each 
 other : 
 
 /'x 

 
 4" 
 
 364 OF HOME. 
 
 If Una tamed her lion, Goneril tainted Albaii : 
 The man is made by gentleness, that meek and quiet spirit, 
 The holy conversation and obedience of the wife ; 
 The man is marred by crossings and the nagging vixen temper 
 Night and day, by board and bed, embittered through that plague; 
 No escape, no respite ; for the worm is at the core ; 
 An exile cannot flee himself; nor hounds in leash run freely : 
 Who shall guage the force of such a spiritual fetter 
 Hindering all pursuit of good, and galling and injurious? 
 As who can guess the potency of woman's love and patience. 
 Her precious influence, her sweet strength, to bless a husband's 
 Home ? 
 
 And worse for you, O gentle wives ! consorted with bad huibands, 
 The drunkard, the adulterer, the passionate, the mean ; 
 How desolate your lots, — how steeped in grief your lives, — 
 How changed for you from peace to strife the sacred name of 
 
 Home ! 
 Not solely, and not chiefly, in the lowest haunts of life 
 In cellars or in hovels is domestic discord seen ; 
 Oft-times the dinner of herbs hath quietness for seasoning, 
 And bitter M'ant some sweet love-honey in its cup of gall : 
 But even with the richest in their palaces of pride. 
 Or where a midway competence hath all beside for comfort. 
 Not all their purple and fine linen, nor the stalled ox. 
 Can stay the hatreds that therewith have cursed too nxiny a Home. 
 
 There is often a most miserable jealousy cankering domestic peace, 
 
 And gnawing at the narrow hearts of sundry men and women : 
 
 I touch not needfully the loathing that curseth criminal love 
 
 And gladly would do murder for a wanton look or fashion ; 
 
 But the meaner hatred and suspicion of each genial feeling 
 
 And every kind of worth, by any innocently shown. 
 
 Pleasant neighbours, honest servants, good and clever children, 
 
 These are made the victims of that jealous lust for Self; 
 
 And chiefly nearest relatives, be they of wife or husband, 
 
 Are spoken against, and driven away, insulted and abused : 
 
 A brother near the throne is sure to get the bowstring ; 
 
 Our monogamic firmament may hold no second sun ; 
 
 Strait taxation, all for one, is rigidly exacted. 
 
 And good and wise men are but rivals to tliat morbid soul ;
 
 OF HOME. 365 
 
 Without such close exchision, is not married bliss too scarce ? 
 Yet dearest friends not seldom thus are sacrificed to Hymen : 
 O ye bitter spoilers of the beauteous and the holy, 
 IMarried slaves to selfishness, ye jealous little minds, 
 It is you that fright from wedlock, beyond its common trials, 
 And put it to an open shame, degraded from due honour ; 
 It is you that ban all blessing, and bring Satan into Eden, 
 Till Milton's Adam curse once more his selfish serpent Eve. 
 
 But, O true paragons of marriage ! — for thousands yet there be 
 Worthiest of honour and of love, though haply missing both. 
 How opposite are ye to those detestables, how patient and how 
 
 kind. 
 The sweet Hermiones and Griseldas in too many a Home ! 
 None can guess your sorrows, though religion soothe them still, 
 None can know the wretchedness that hideth in your bosoms : 
 Prayer and hope indeed are yours, and friends discreetly chosen ; 
 But what shall compensate a wife for Home despoiled of love ? 
 Home-love is a woman's very life ; a man may live without it ; 
 The mother-bird hath one poor nest ; foxes have holes elsewhere. 
 
 How often is there sadness and suspicion in the Home, 
 
 Where, like the barren figtree, unblest marriage hath no fruiting ; 
 
 Where woman's withering heart may never yearn on children, 
 
 And vainly year by year the father longed to kiss a son ! 
 
 For mysterious Providence withholdeth in high wisdom 
 
 Full oft from those who wished it most the treasure of a child ; 
 
 Giving, as with too liberal hand, to many who are thankless, 
 
 —Nay more, who grudge against the gift —that priceless wealth 
 
 in offspring. 
 Yet hear this for your comfort, ye that are written childless, 
 Who grieved in disappointed youth that wedlock bore no fruit 
 At least your tranquil age is saved from shame and sorrow 
 Too often heaped upon the Home by some ungrateful son ; 
 Where are thy prayers and hopes, O father ? where thy costs and 
 
 cares ? 
 And all thy love, mother,— is but moonlight on that ruin. 
 
 Twice happy is the Home that is blest with children's children ; 
 
 Tliy sons and daughters were much care, but these be simple | 
 
 pleasures : ' 
 
 ^
 
 4^- 
 
 366 OF HOME: 
 
 Another generation is responsible for these, 
 
 And so in every better sense is found thy second childhood. 
 
 Here be pretty playmates for thine innocent old age, 
 
 Full of hope and life and glee, and garrulous as thyself; 
 
 Here be keen-eyed comrades for thy wisdom to improve. 
 
 And friends to carry on thy praise, and talk of thee hereafter : 
 
 Nor only for amusement those dear little ones are seen. 
 
 Nor that thy sage experiences may help them in life's journey, — 
 
 But, since their angels always see the face of God their Father, 
 
 These baby wards of heaven on earth can guide thy feet to Him ! 
 
 Next after wife and husband, and the children young or old. 
 The happiness of Home shall much be made or marred l^y ser- 
 vants : 
 Whither are fled the faithful souls that loved through life one 
 
 family. 
 In unsuspected honesty with dutiful heartservice ? 
 Where are those models of economy, so diligent in their callings. 
 Showing good fidelity, not answering, not purloining ? 
 An over-prevalent luxury, the strong desire for change, 
 With vanities of dress, and headiness and hardness. 
 And independent hate of rule, and class divorced from class. 
 And stilted thoughts of pride, bred from ill-digested schooling, 
 All these have worked their social harms, gnawing the heart of 
 
 Home, 
 And well-nigh leave extinct the race of good and faithful servants. 
 
 Ay, — but where too shall we find the wise and gracious house-wife, 
 Whom royal Lemuel's mother sought as helpmate for her son ? — 
 All too little sympathy, and far too great exaction, 
 Nothing overlooked of fault, and seldom an indulgence, — 
 With these and worse, with silly pride, and poisonous airs of caste. 
 Too many a modern mistress will torment her women slaves. 
 On all sides is there blame ; yet more with wives than husbands ; 
 For man and master still work well together as good friends : 
 The genial word dropped now and then, of kindness or of caution, 
 Is oftener heard from man to man, than woman nding woman : 
 And men have no proud prudery, but can wink at humble lovers, 
 Whereas the jealous housewife is affection's direst foe : 
 A master giveth counsel, as rememl)ering liis hot youth. 
 And is not set in frozen state so ]iiq;li above the servant ; 
 
 ^•t 
 
 ^
 
 OF SOCIAL PRIDE. 367 
 
 Whereas the best a menial often hearetli from her mistress 
 
 Is strict and harsh ascetic lore, with tartness of reproof. 
 
 Wovild that, as with Lemuel's queen, that tongue were ruled l)y 
 
 kmdness, 
 And, if she watch her household's ways, herself live not so idly ! 
 A good and genial housewife secureth cheerful servants, 
 But our unkindly scolds are still the roots of discontent. 
 
 Who can make a monograph of such a theme as Home ? 
 
 Who shall exhaust that field of thought, so thickly cropped with 
 
 feelings ? 
 Duty interest pleasure pain, affections fears and hopes, 
 Like cherubs flitting round each Home from nursery to the grave, 
 And recollections of old scenes, dim belike with sorrow. 
 And many disappointments, crowd about this pregnant theme. 
 How to paint young memories with panoramic power, 
 How to touch bereavements that have wrung the mourner's heart, 
 How to tell of birthday-feasts, of weddings and of deathbeds. 
 How to set before each mind the story of his Home? 
 It were easy, it were weary, to dilate at length, 
 And mould in full these features, barely outlined and suggested ; 
 But let what I have written stand, faultily with omissions. 
 To sketch in light and shadow the romance and truth of Home. 
 
 
 OF SOCIAL PRIDE. j 
 
 i 
 
 Stand aside, come not anear — for I am holier than thou, — 
 
 Holier, as world-religion goeth, richer, greater, higher ; 
 
 Suffer not thy vulgar shadow to fall athwart my sunshine, 
 
 Go to ! I will not touch nor taste the common or unclean. 
 
 Not alone with publican and Pharisee, not alone with Pariahs and 
 
 Brahmins, 
 But also round our English hearths is class divorced from class : 
 As one of our own judges hath said (that wise and genial man 
 Who worked his heart out over-soon, but not too soon for glory) 
 Far too little sympathy is felt or shown amongst us; 
 Caste, and prejudice, and pride, build walls about us all: 
 There be those great gulfs fixed ; homes ramped and fossed from 
 
 homes ; 
 
 t 
 
 IT
 
 #- 
 
 j6S OF SOCIAL PRIDE. 
 
 Exclusion and contempt too well watch each pretty circle, 
 And none may touch or enter but the magically garbed. 
 
 Let be, indeed, the sesame for Fashion, — welcome to lock her 
 
 doors, — 
 Let be the gambler's password for rich and vicious folly; 
 May such rest ever secrets, known only to the few. 
 And may that wizard ring have never charm to trap the many i 
 But there is a somewhat more against us, much to make ashainet' 
 Where, insulated still, we dwell in social coldness. 
 Where each man's house is truly found his castle as his home, 
 With ditch and walls and wai-der, and the drawbridge to be 
 
 passed ; 
 For though warm summer glow within beside the Christmas 
 
 embers. 
 Yon outer wilderness of men would find but wintry welcome 
 One friendly x'ecognition, some passing words of kindness, 
 Would break the arctic circle that estrangeth class from class; 
 Yet neighbour meeteth neighbour ungreeted year by year. 
 And high and low, and all between them crystallize apart. 
 It is easier for the sons of pride to talk with humblest peasants 
 Than to hold intercourse with those who tread upon their skirts; 
 And children and the sick may find abundant consolations. 
 But growing up or strong in health are stared at as unknown : 
 The genial and the bountiful are seldom seen at one; 
 To give is easier than to love, to be praised more sweet than 
 
 praising. 
 Your great phdanthropist is found, scattering money charities 
 Far off, far off to the antipodes — but seldom to the heathen at his 
 
 door ; 
 And folks live out long lifetimes, near dwellers m one hamlet, 
 Unheedful of each other, thougli they worship in one church. 
 
 Away with this mean pride ! away with class-exclusions ! 
 
 An honest man by honesty is well enough approved : 
 
 And somewhile there is merit, and somewhile talent too; 
 
 How oft, where none miglit look for such, are gifts and graces 
 
 seen ! 
 The musical ear, the plastic hand, the eye for observations. 
 Shrewd minds and feeling hearts are found in peasants as in 
 
 peers ;
 
 ^ 
 
 OF SOCIAL riUDE. 369 
 
 A mine of human gold is under everybody's hearthstone, 
 
 A mine belike too seldom ^vorked, Init seamed with precious 
 
 veins ; 
 And many a rustic, whose soul's good thy feeble tract is tending 
 May have a reach of genius far above tliy cultured thought. 
 
 There is an idol of our west more well beloved than Tammuz, 
 
 Claiming Mith Juggernaut or Nisroc hecatombs each day : 
 
 It hath no hideous vulture-head, neither griffon hands. 
 
 But courteous and well-dressed it goeth, plausible as Belial, 
 
 Delicately goeth, full of glozing words and smiles. 
 
 And all the world is glad to worship Smooth Respectability. 
 
 Who shall count the thousands that have starved to serve that 
 
 Presence? 
 How many suicides have perished by its decent razor ! 
 How often forgeries and frauds were tempted and contrived 
 To satisfy appearance, and to pay the tax of vanity ! 
 Even in rural cottages that sacrifice is offered. 
 Where humble labourers slink ashamed before their flaunting 
 
 daughters, 
 Whose foolish finery is bought haply through household theft, 
 And anyway their mothers' needs had better seen their wages: 
 And sometimes, still to sanctify that sham, Respectability, 
 Poor infants, as at Carthage, have been slaughtered to hide 
 
 shame ; 
 For moral England, up and down, to save Respectability, 
 Forceth unmarried mothers to the shrines of Saturn here. 
 Yea, and with every class, what frequent fraud and meanness 
 Combine to feed thine altar-fires, gaunt Respectability! 
 There are the shabby splendours, there the stinted alms. 
 There the small hypocrisies of social class-distinction • 
 For fear that Truth might raise the wondering eyebrows of the 
 
 world, 
 A crowd of lies is gatliered in a festering heap at home, 
 Like captives in the wicker-image of Druidic Baal, 
 All to be burnt in worship of sublime Respectability ! 
 
 And, shame on prudery and pride, where the virtuous are frowning 
 
 upon vice. 
 
 Not in faithfulness or pity, but for mere contempt. 
 
 Ah ! those erring daughters only gather hate and spite 
 
 2 A 
 
 Jr
 
 370 
 
 OF SOCIAL PRIDE. 
 
 4- 
 
 Where charity and mercy should rather have been given. 
 
 Ah ! those bitter matrons tliink it scorn to echo Hirn 
 
 Who gently said to Magdalene, "Neither do I condemn thee.'" 
 
 Thou canst not guess the piteous story of this fallen woman ; 
 
 How, as a girl, her young affections mnocently bloomed, 
 
 How earnestly she loved, how vilely was deceived. 
 
 How cruelly was driven from her pious father's home, 
 
 And flung an outcast on the streets, to live by sin or perish ! 
 
 Her chastity was once as pure, if not so proud as thine ; 
 
 And haply even thou hadst yielded to that strong temptation : 
 
 Judge not, but be pitiful ; she hath still much goodness left. 
 
 Charity, and humility, and gleams of grace from heaven : 
 
 Help her to rise, and take her hand, and lead her to repentance. 
 
 This thy sister is a soul for whom the Saviour died ; 
 
 Be tender with her, and not fierce, as one would lift the wounded. 
 
 And never tread the sinner down beneath thy hateful virtue. 
 
 Our women cling to social pride more closely than the men, 
 
 And often treat their servants imperiously like serfs. 
 
 So, too, some petty differences will loom full large with them, — 
 
 A button more or less is much in England as in China: 
 
 And pride of purse, or noble birth, or husband's rank or office, 
 
 Drive up their minds to fever heat, or range at very dry; 
 
 And quarrels of precedence shall be jealously fought out, 
 
 Till kindlier men are forced to wink at duelling with neighbours : 
 
 For every shade of difference is a colour to keen eyes. 
 
 And those who doat on trifles see a molehill as a mountain : 
 
 The merest touch of coarseness or of fineness in the fabric 
 
 Will serve with them to choose their muslin or refuse its texture ; 
 
 And where a man would wait, considering and judging, 
 
 The woman's quicker impulse will jealously reject 
 
 So, many husbands gladly might be heartier with neighbours. 
 
 But for the pride and prejudice that rankle in their wives. 
 
 There be fair excuses : the vulgar is not easily dismissed ; 
 Designers trap good nature, and deceivers blight good-will ; 
 Some worthy folk have oftentimes unworthier far too near them. 
 And many ways a loss is sure, with seldom hope of gain: 
 Still, go thy way with frankness, and vulgarities will shrink ; 
 Be keen, and shame the schemer ; be kind, and crush deceit ; 
 Rebuke the wrong and cheer the right, dividing converse wisely
 
 OF SOCIAL PRIDE. 37 
 
 
 And genially fort;et to -weigli tliy loss or gain in scales. 
 
 Who maketh thee to differ? Whence came talents to thy care? 
 
 How shouldest thou be proud, with such reason for humility? 
 
 He who said, "Give Me thy heart," said also, "Love thy neigh- 
 bour,"— 
 
 And no commandment is obeyed but bringclh due re\\'ard : 
 
 This sympathy shall win thee love from highest as from humblest, 
 
 And make thy servants serve thee well, and all the neighbours 
 love thee, 
 
 Shall raise thee for thy humbleness, shall bless thee for thy kindli- 
 ness, 
 
 And shame the fools who cover up their ostrich-heads in pride. 
 
 Note well our highest; is there found this social fault in her? 
 
 Can any call her haughty, though the greatest in all lands? 
 
 Doth she not bridge the deep wide gulf that moateth her from 
 
 others, 
 With kindly words, and liberal acts, and condescending smiles? 
 Is even the humblest left unhelped, the meanest unregarded? 
 Can any children of distress plead for her grace in vain? 
 A widow, is she not the fostering Queen of widows? 
 A mother, craped in sorrow, the orphan's mother-queen ? 
 And every home affection, each pure domestic pleasure, 
 Shared though it be with cottage hinds, she owneth share in all. 
 O ye, the lesser stars of rank, of wealth, and great estate, 
 So often high and dry above the common reach of mortals, 
 Regard this best example, and be kindly as your Queen, 
 And dare not treasonably thus to scorn her lowly greatness; 
 She learnt it of her teacher; he taught her what he learnt 
 From Christ, our one grand type of highest-hearted meekness. 
 
 There was, — in higher truth there is, — for he though dead still 
 
 liveth, 
 Though passed away from us, an heir of glory gone before, — 
 There was and is a noble Prince, none nobler on this earth, 
 The forefront jewel of our crown, of purest lustre, priceless: 
 He, first and greatest, still was ever kind to last and least, 
 With eloquent tongue and liberal haiul befriending all the friend- 
 less: 
 He, loftier than the loftiest, could be humble to the humblest. 
 And condescend in high-born love to men of low estate; 
 
 J^
 
 1 
 372 OF CHANGE AND TRA VEL. ' 
 
 Tlie worn-out servant Hung away, tlie rent-rac]<ecl artisan, 
 
 The widow and the fatherless, the toiling starving curate. 
 
 The gillie in his hovel, and the coalman on his barge. 
 
 Rescued by a royal hand from sickness or oppression, 
 
 All these he made his friends, for everlasting habitations, 
 
 To bless him for his sympathy, and love him for his help. 
 
 Go and do thou likewise : follow in his steps : 
 
 We little thought how good he was, how great, until we lost him ; 
 
 Generous in all charity, genial, just, and pure, 
 
 He topped our social pyramid with love and not with pride. 
 
 (3F CHANGE AND TRAVEL. 
 
 He that long abideth at a place, continuing in one stay, 
 Rooted as a hedgerow elm to the spot ^\'hereon it groweth. 
 However fed through reading, or taught by talk with neighbours. 
 Or busied in much writing, or pleased or teased at home, 
 Liveth but a lower sort of life, as mere vegetation for its sameness. 
 Casting away from him year by year the blessings that advantage 
 
 our time ; 
 This running to and fro, with knowledge flashed as lightning, 
 This speeding hither and thither, reading as one runneth, 
 Culling, as a bee upon the wing, intelligence like honey, 
 And noting with Ulysses the thoughts and homes of men. 
 
 Change in veriest trifles hath its comfort and its use ; 
 
 Turn tliy pillow in the night, to freshen even sleep : 
 
 Be not an automaton of habit, the slave to rules and hours ; 
 
 And vary meats for better health, and clothes with changing 
 seasons. 
 
 Also, seek variety for mind, as needful as for body ; 
 
 The same continual teaching is not wholesome and not wise : 
 
 The one preacher and his doctrine, the one paper with its politics. 
 
 The one incessant occupation, all alike are evil ; 
 
 There is a narrowing force in each, a dwarfing and a shrinking. 
 
 Bigoted thought, and party-feeling, and obtuse unaptness. 
 
 Enlarge thy tent, and more than so, move it often onward ; 
 
 And crouch not like an Ostiack, in his cave of frozen snow, 
 i The dweller in one spot, tethered for half a lifetime, 
 
 I Is but an empty barge at anchor near the harliour-bar : 
 
 At'
 
 h ^1* 
 
 OF CHANGE AND TRA VEL. 373 
 
 He movcth witliout progress, and (as void of aims in life) 
 
 If idle, liath no holidays, in spite of all his leisure ; 
 
 While, if a worker, half that ^^'ork would happier be and brisker. 
 
 For fair fresh fields and healthy play in foreign air and scene : 
 
 Ignorant, though full of books, illiberal, small-minded, 
 
 The homestayer broodeth on himself and paltry household matters ; 
 
 He may indeed have peace, but his peace is a stolid slumber ; 
 
 He may escape some evils, but he misseth much of good ; 
 
 Small in self-conceit, prejudiced, and ill-fashioned, 
 
 There is no largeness in the mind that scorneth modern travel. \ 
 
 Give me the wholesome happy chance to spread my wayward 
 
 wings, 
 And speed afar by sail or steam, or rail, or mountain-climbing; 
 Give me the free glad hoofs, the ^\'hip and spur and saddle, 
 Over the rolling prairies, emancipate from care ; 
 
 Place me beneath some hotter sun in the religious East, j 
 
 Where sad Jerusalem doth sit unshaded by her palm, 
 Or where the Pyramids yet point to Israel's better Exode, \ 
 
 Or where Arabia hideth deep another huge Stonehenge ; ; 
 
 Or in Rome's Coliseum, peopled with gladiator ghosts, \ 
 
 Or among Grecian temples, safe from their banditti, — '; 
 
 Or in that newer hemisphere, among my crowds of friends i 
 
 With hearts as full of welcome as Niagara of wonder, — \ 
 
 Or with yet loftier daring, let me gladly pierce the clouds 
 And note the world beneath my car, mapped out in lands and 
 
 oceans ! 
 
 I 
 No wise traveller will fail of keepmg daily records, j 
 
 Whereby the marvels he hath met are fixed to date and place. 
 A noteless idler hath small gain ; he loiteretn through museums. 
 Balancing with his leaden eyes the lead, about his feet ; \ 
 
 And home returned, his vacant mind, confusedly forgetful, l 
 
 Is all unapt to teach another, or to cheer himself: [ 
 
 But he whose pen is ready, and his head and heart alive, \ 
 
 To present winnings addeth pleasant treasures in the future ; 
 When friends, or haply children, gathered round the hearth of 
 
 home. 
 Read the adventurous journals of his well-spent travel, | 
 
 Or listen to his clear detail of exploits in old days 
 
 Exact, as written at the time, and fresh upon the spot. ^ 
 
 fe —
 
 ^ ^' 
 
 374 or CHANGE AND TRA VEL. 
 
 There be scores of tourist fools, who earn but harm froni tourhig, 
 All unprepared in mind and heart, and with none eyes to see ; 
 They rush from inn to inn, foraging for strange pleasures. 
 But heed nor Art nor Nature, nor the tales of ancient time ; 
 Paestum, Monte Rosa, ThermopyLi;, lona. 
 Are less than Homburg or La Scala to those sensual souls ; 
 And even music is but sought as pandar to some orgy 
 Where life with all its flowers and fruits is fooled and gamed 
 au'ay ! 
 
 See thou be not mated with such folly, — but choose thy comrade 
 
 wisely, 
 One well trained, as thou art, in all handy travel lore : 
 History, zeal for science, love of truth and worth and beauty, 
 These should well be woven in the texture of both minds ; 
 And patience with each other, — yea, forbearance every hour, 
 And cheerfulness and energy and mutual timely praise : 
 And language is a need-be, though our English tongue be much, 
 Or thou wilt miss in travel half its profit and its pleasure : 
 But pry not, either of the twain, into sores and secrets, — 
 For there be deeps in every heart, and tenderest spots of pain ; 
 In chief, act not thy comrade's spy, for morals or religion ; 
 If must be, counsel or protest, but openly and kindly : 
 Intimate for a little space as holiday-making friends, 
 Still independence is great wisdom, with some holding back ; 
 Not so carelessly familiar, nor so scrupulously exacting, — 
 If as friends ye are to travel far and long together. 
 
 That there is much weariness in travel, with cost and care and 
 
 danger. 
 Much to vex and much to try, — which of us knoweth not ? 
 The selfishness, the misery, the beggary, the fraud, 
 The vice of thousands on thy track will scare thee and disgust 
 
 thee ; 
 Still, some angels unawares, some nobler hearts at times. 
 Shall melt those human mists away, as sunshine in the valleys ; 
 And thou hast seen earth's wonders, to be pondered many days. 
 And learnt the thoughts and ways of men in their most famous 
 
 cities ; 
 Thou hast traversed battle-fields, where conquerors won their 
 
 world ;
 
 — ^-S 
 
 ^r 
 
 OF CHANGE AND TRA VEL. 375 
 
 Or dranlc at the oasis ; or bivouacked in the cavern ; 
 
 Or seen the midnight sun ; or thou hast left Orion 
 
 To chancre him for tlie Southern Cross and the Australian Crown : 
 
 Thou hast struck salmon in tlie fiord, and stalked the red deer on 
 
 the fell ; 
 Thy daring foot liath started the chamois from its glacier ; 
 Thy swift-winged yacht hath steered betwixt the palmy coral 
 
 isles ; 
 Thy reindeer sledge hatli glided swiflly over old Norge's snow. 
 Thou hast deepened the well of thine heart, thou hast widened the 
 
 walls of thy mind, 
 And cheerily renewed tliy youth in body and in spirit ; 
 Even out of peril hast won courage ; from much vexation, patience ; 
 Here and there hast gathered friends, and everywhere reaped 
 
 mercies ; 
 And, if thy Sabbaths nave been honoured, and prayer glowed ever 
 
 in thy heart, 
 Well art thou paid for cost and care by treasure-trove in travel. 
 
 All of us have within us the wandering Crusoe spirit ; 
 
 We come of Norse sea-rovers, and adventurers full of hope : 
 
 And man was bade to tame his earth, to rule it and subdue it, — 
 
 Whereby our feet-soles tingle at an untiod Alpine peak. 
 
 Eut shall we not fly anon with wings, to shame these creeping 
 
 paces, 
 Even as steam hath mocked all speed on land and sea before? 
 Is not this firmament of air part of the human heritage, 
 Which man must conquer duteously, as first his Maker willed? 
 There needeth but a lighter gas, well-tutored to our skill, ; 
 
 The springing spirit to some shape of delicate steel and silk,— j 
 
 A birdlike frame of Da;dalus, and gummed Icarian plumes, | 
 
 Ancient inventions, long forgotten, to be found anew ! 
 When shall the chemist mix aright this rarer lifting essence 
 To make the lord of earth but equal to his many sparrows? 
 When will discovery help us to such conquest of the air. 
 And teach us swifter travel than our creeps by land and water ? 
 
 And shall we not be travellers hereafter, inimitably, freely, gladly. 
 Wanderers in awe-struck worship, as we speed from sun to sun? 
 I long to see them each and all, so differmg in glory, — 
 Orion's nebulous whirlpool and Capella's coloured globes.
 
 T 376 OF LIVELIHOODS. 
 
 The marvellous coils of splendour ringing light round far off 
 
 Saturn, 
 The strange terrific league-deep craters blistered on the moon, 
 The millions of fixed suns, with all their worlds around them, 
 And each a world of brothers, as the children of one God ! 
 I thirst to drink of rivers where the pleasures are all new. 
 To quaff deep draughts of knowledge unimagined and unbounded, 
 To follow on eternally lessons begun in time, 
 And marvel at all infinites of Providence and creation ; 
 To feel with other senses, to imagine vaster thoughts, 
 j To reign an incorruptible, though changeless yet progressing, 
 ! And thus to speed in spirit race, a traveller and a guest, 
 I Gloriously from sun to sun, as freeman of them all ! 
 
 j 
 
 I Verily, this used-up planet, with its crowded shores and seas, 
 
 I Its vanquished Alps, and rutted roads, and trampled plains and 
 
 I cities, 
 
 In the great future shall no more contract man's wider range, 
 
 ; Showing but as the playground, where his childhood once 
 " disported. 
 
   We shall fly at lightning pace from happiest globe to globe, 
 
 ' Where even now their signal fires ai'e blazing yon above us ; 
 We shall gather loves and friendships even among seraphs, 
 Marvelling at the humbler worths that satisfied on earth ; 
 ; We shall mix in scenes and actions of stupendous glory, 
 j Faintly shadowed here on earth by prophets, priests, and kings ; 
 
   We shall watch in bright display the attributes of Godhead, 
 With varying illustrations from His universe of spheres ; 
 We shall be space-wide travellers, discoverers beyond the nebulous 
 
 stars, 
 Counting for a mere home circuit any flights with solar comets ; 
 We shall attain to knowledge inconceivable, fed by keener senses. 
 And rise to an omniscience of worship through the privileged 
 
 ubiquity of Travel ! 
 
 ^ 
 
 OF LIVELIHOODS. 
 
 If morals be well honoured, if religion be not harmed. 
 
 If simple conscience rest content, — thy livelihood is lawful : 
 
 Trivial tliough it seem, allied to ridicule or folly,
 
 OF LIVELIHOODS. 
 
 
 377 
 
 The very clowns and jesters have their honourable calling ; 
 It may be, yon fair dancer, by her graceful tempted toil. 
 Is modestly a widowed mother's comfort and support ; 
 It may be, this bold acrobat, amidst his thrilling perils, 
 Is mindful of the wife and babes who light his garret-home : 
 Heed of all such in charity ; there be some unguessed martyrs, 
 Some undefiled, amid surroundings pestilent and corrupting ; 
 There be virgins, naked-footed, treading red-hot ploughshares. 
 There be youths confessing Christ among the godless and the 
 mean. 
 
 How hard it is to win a crust, to earn one's daily bread ! 
 
 How desperate the battle of life in these fierce days of struggling ! 
 
 Of yore, the labourer, if he chose, might idle for his pleasure, 
 
 But now that labourer often must stand idle to his pain : 
 
 Once, every educated worth was sure of rich employment. 
 
 But honourable shrewd men now starve, and wait for work in 
 
 vain : 
 Long since, each marriageable maid had several eager suitors, 
 But seven hopeless women now are lingering for one man : 
 Of old, your sons and daughters were a quiverful of praise, 
 But now Cornelia's Gracchi lack the setting for her jewels. 
 
 There be indeed the common grooves, choke-full of common men, 
 All crowded-up, and crowding-out, and overflowed with crowders; 
 And little chance for any, in these hot competing times. 
 But for the few who tread some path their fathers tracked before 
 
 them. 
 And every failing now is fatal ; winners must be perfect : 
 Slender hope for any that are weighted with defects : 
 Stuttering tongues, or purblind eyes, weak health, or simple slow- 
 ness, — 
 Every candidate must drop, that owneth one of these ; 
 All the weak are pushed aside, or trampled down and smothered; 
 The race is only to the swift, the battle to the strong : 
 Boldness is the talisman, Demosthenean boldness. 
 No luck but through hard wrestling now, no help but in self-help. 
 And though there be competings,- what is one among so many? 
 With fifty athletes for one prize, what left for the forty and nine? 
 And common parts have little chance beneath so strict a standard 
 Where talent, even genius, scarcely findeth hope or scope ; 
 
 
 t,\
 
 ^ 
 
 378 OF LIVELIHOODS. 
 
 So, disappointed effort is the climax of achievement ; 
 The very staunchest in the field but rarely win the brush. 
 
 And feebler hounds thrown out, straying to far-off coverts, 
 Those distance-haloed ends of the earth, now filling up so fast, 
 How do they fare or win their way, ten thousand miles from 
 
 home. 
 Flung penniless and friendless on Australia or New Zealand? 
 Is livelihood more easy to an exile from all friends? 
 And mere existence worth its pains, despoiled of home and 
 
 pleasures ? 
 The youth of gentle stock, well versed in useless learning. 
 Whose classic culture won him honours bought by health and 
 
 wealth, 
 Perforce must own in that rough land coarse working men his 
 
 masters, 
 And like the prodigal son be fain to tend their swine or sheep. 
 Weathering hunger, heat, and cold, and vulgarized by toil, 
 A shepherd or a drover, but the gentleman no more. 
 Here and there some luckier wight hath found a prize, a nugget, 
 Or wisely chose his plot upon some river's marshy bend, 
 Where, racked long years with feverish aches, our well-born 
 
 pioneer 
 At last hath cleared a fortune with his planned and lotted town- 
 ship ; 
 Then " Emigrate " is flung to idle gentlemen at home, 
 Go, get you gone and get you gold ; get gold, no matter how ; 
 Go, as the patriarch of old, or Nimrod founding cities, — 
 At least your absence is our gain in overcrowded England ! 
 
 So, for our men ; the willing crowds of would-be workers round 
 
 us. 
 Offering as for livelihoods both heads and hands in vain : 
 And, for our women, with less power or chances in life's battle, 
 How vainly now they proffer hearts to ^\•in them husbands' 
 
 homes ! 
 For truly woman's livelihood is best found in her husband's, 
 The housewife and the mother are her first employments here ; 
 In spite of types and telegrams, and lecturings and the counter. 
 The woman's occupation and her mission is at home, 
 A home other than her father's, and knit with dearer ties,
 
 ^ 
 
 OF LIVELIHOODS. 379 
 
 Young love grown ripe in marriage, and tlie happy fruit of 
 
 children. 
 Yet everywhere the beauteous and the gentle, the accomplished — 
 
 nay, tlie rich — 
 Are now unwooed, and still unwon, and wail with Jephthah's 
 
 daughter 
 And seldom doth Love's fire crown Hymen's golden torch. 
 Or warm Affections dare to wed, for dread of frowning Mammon : 
 Thus, the days are evil, where so many live unloved, 
 And a most pitiful waste is rife of human worths and feelings : 
 Youth with youthful charm departeth, and the heart's romance, 
 Long disenchanted of its dreaming, pineth disappointed, 
 Till many a blighted sister, who should have shone in wedlock, 
 Is hardly earning livelihood by music or her pen. 
 
 How many fearsome livelihoods ! how often mean and loathly ! 
 How wearisome for sameness ! how terrible for perils ! 
 Alas ! the lot of thousands in this dislocated world 
 Is only toil and pain and danger, sharpened by ill-usage ; 
 Alas ! that bitter circumstance to thongs hath added goads. 
 Where sweating brows and quivering muscles work in foetid dark- 
 ness, — 
 The piteous fate of honest men, and women too, and children, 
 Who help to warm our Christian homes with happy blazing 
 
 hearths ! 
 Lo ! through long-drawn hours every night-like day for years, 
 In dismal, damp, and stenchy blackness English labour toileth, 
 Risking life and limb by fiery blasts and crushing masses — 
 All for the bare existence of an abject coal-pit gnome ! 
 So, too, the grinders at the wheel, with eyes made raw by steel- 
 dust ; 
 The factory girl, whose wheezing lungs are stuffed with fluffy 
 
 cotton ; 
 The household drudge of all work, starved by her cruel mistress ; 
 The field serf, old and famishing, and frozen with the cold; 
 The white consumptive woman, sleepless at her needle. 
 Over the gaudy robes, humed on by clamorous fashion ; 
 And scores of other dreaiy phases of our social life, 
 The desk and counter victims, thanking Mercy for His Sabbath. 
 
 And thousands hunt their living — ay, and catch it to their loss —
 
 ^. 
 
 380 OF LIVELIHOODS. 
 
 Tn poisonous highways, bitter byways, winning sinful wages : 
 And some, the better few of such, attempt to pour new wine 
 Of morals and religion into their old and rotten wine-skins. 
 Good-natured Lais vainly dreamt to consecrate foul earnings 
 By charities, as covering-up her multitude of sins ; 
 The legal rogue, made wealthy through a secret breach of trus', 
 Shall hope to cure his conscience-fits by decorating churches ; 
 And even gamblers think at times to hallow their ill gains 
 By giving gifts to hospitals as make-weight for their mischief. 
 True, each might have done worse; let Mammon, though un. 
 
 righteous, 
 Be burdened-up with bounties as the Afrite in the tale ; 
 But no dishonest livelihood is bettered by such largess 
 Without confessed repentance, restitution, and amendment : 
 The sins, the frauds, the wrongs remain, in spite of all that 
 
 gilding,— 
 A trifle brighter to the eye, but black enough at heart. 
 
 Self-interest is the mainspring of our industries and callings, 
 
 But honesty the circling chain to guide its efforts right : 
 
 And thereby Society is gainer ; for every son must work, 
 
 And if he mean to win must work both steadily and faii'Iy. 
 
 The lawyer loseth custom who is keen to stir up strife. 
 
 But prospereth as a peacemaker, denouncing litigations ; 
 
 The shrewd physician speedeth health, though living by diseases, 
 
 For skill, far more than craft, hath great reward and good report \ 
 
 All merchandise of clreatery is quickly found to fail ; 
 
 And simple truth was ever wisdom even among liars ; 
 
 Only that this superficial honesty, springing from the selfishness o' 
 
 men. 
 Is but as a parasitic weed, and hath no root in morals. 
 
 The man unfitted for his place, — there is the commonest error,— - 
 
 A racer in the waggon, and a carthorse on the turf. 
 
 Many a priest hath taken office for its piece of bread. 
 
 But had no gift of prayer or preaching for his patient people ; 
 
 Many a lawyer liad nor heart nor head for his dry studies, 
 
 And gladly jilted Themis when he found some younger love; 
 
 Many a leech is scantly skilled in physics and in healing, 
 
 Because his inmost soul revolted at disease and pain : 
 
 As with wedlocks, so with callings; thousands long for change: 
 
 1>^
 
 OF FOURFOLD n]FFEREi\CES. 
 
 How oft in both exchanging neighbours might be better mated ! 
 
 But circumstance is hostile : the foremost of those fetters 
 
 Only death hath power to burst, and grant a second chance ; 
 
 The hindmost hath its weaker links that many break away, 
 
 Escaping with contented loss from uncongenial callings : 
 
 And now the pen and now the sword, transferred from hand to 
 
 hand, 
 Proveth innumerable mistakes in opposite vocations. 
 Of old the rule was, work and eat ; no starving but for idlers ; 
 But now the willing workmen starve, for want of work to do. 
 Is it that soon for populous Earth her time shall be no more. 
 Seeing she hath not livelihoods wherewith to feed her children? 
 
 -4- 
 
 OF FOURFOLD DIFFERENCES. 
 
 Four great empires, four true gospels, four strange living- 
 creatures, 
 Four chief seasons in the year, four quarters of the globe. 
 Four elements, four winds, four continents, iour oceans. 
 Four races, crops, and governments ; — how fourfold is the world ! 
 Seven, nine, five, three, and one, to each its ordered virtue. 
 The mysteries in odd numbers and their properties are strange ; 
 But evens also, two, four, six, have curious special qualities 
 And chief the simple square encloseth many diverse wholes. 
 
 Agur the wise, the son of Vakeh, spake unto Ithiel and Ucal, 
 Spake to those listening disciples, in the spirit of his kinsman 
 
 Solomon : 
 He testified of three tnings and of four, noting fourfold characters. 
 Dropping his ensamples for all others, classed by threes and fours ; 
 As a matter may be good, or may be evil, or between-wise, or 
 
 naturally neutral. 
 Partaking of the neither cr the both, or of each in its separate 
 
 extreme : 
 And shrewd Pythagoras of Sanios, that greatest ancient sage, 
 Made all things range by fours, as soldiers use in drilling ; 
 And, even as a fourfold ministry is with some their need-be of 
 
 religion, — 
 The emblem of Deity Himself is a tetragon according to 
 
 Pythagoras, 
 
 vfV
 
 T 
 
 3S2 OF FOURFOLD DIFFERENCES. 
 
 There be four diversities of life, whereby men square contentment ; 
 Private comfort, pubUc aim, or worldly show, or godliness ; 
 There is the calm complacency of self, lone-living in one's shell, 
 Health, and prudent life, and secret happiness of conscience ; 
 There is the earnest energy for others, as striving to be useful in 
 
 all good, 
 Self-forgetting, self-neglecting, living for thy kind and not thyself; 
 There is the recklessness of licence, hunting pleasures greedily. 
 Drowning thought in dissipation, and smothering bosom-sorrows 
 
 in the crowd ; 
 And there is the yearning up to God, the pure and spiritual life, 
 Strong in faith, and lit by hope, and happy in all charity. 
 
 There be four sorts of folk who square the sides of patience, 
 
 Rich as well as poor, and husbands even more than wives : 
 
 There be that are unconscious of their griefs, scarce heeding loss 
 of joy, 
 
 The dyer's ingrained hand subdued to resignations ; 
 
 There be that are case-hardened from ill-usage, indurated by much 
 M-rong, 
 
 The spirit's highway trodden down impervious to soft seeds ; 
 
 There be the embittered through such evil, the watchful for 
 revenges. 
 
 Where patience is a lingering scheme of cold and cruel hate ; 
 
 And there be the loving long-enduring, with seventy-fold forgive- 
 ness, 
 
 Wfiose patience is not nature's growing, but a grace from heaven. 
 
 There be four differences of care, squaring the thought of giving 
 
 trouble, 
 Discerned in most men's homes, and rife in every class : 
 There be the indolently heedless, who never calculate vexation. 
 But always claiming service, expect it, and exact it ; 
 There be the selfish and unkind, who glory in small tyrannies. 
 Naturally slave-drivers at heart, and glad in giving pain ; 
 There be the active self-reliant, whose pleasure dwelleth evermore 
 
 in energy. 
 Willing to thank none beside, and stablished by self-help ; 
 And there be the considerate and liberal, anxious to spare all 
 
 troubling. 
 Comforters of good, and combaters of ill, from principle and habit.
 
 OF FOURFOLD DIFFERENCES. 3S3 
 
 There be four kinds of disposition, squaring the sense of 
 
 cheerfuhiess, 
 And every state and age in either sex hath one of these : 
 Rude heaUh, and animal spirits, overleaping worries 
 As with natm-e's inner spring, and conquering outer peace ; 
 Carelessness for every future, as satisfied with any presence, 
 The school of Epicurus echoing the laughter of Democritus ; 
 Deep knowledge, high philosophy, despising temporal trifles, 
 The Stoic and the Buddhist grafted on the Christian student ; 
 And absolute hopefulness with God, meeting all calamities in 
 
 faith, — 
 Here is true sunshine in the heart, here the cheek's best beauty. 
 
 There be four characters of spending, to square the fancy of 
 
 extravagance. 
 And all who waste good means exceed by one of these : 
 Wealth with princely largess, munificently generous. 
 Scattering benevolences round, in a godlike prodigality ; 
 Luxury, selfish for its lust, mean amidst all costliness. 
 Yet caring nought about expense, so long as sense is served ; 
 The idler's thoughtless lack of care, that never kept accounts, 
 Whereby no check is given to the hand pulling at the purse- 
 strings ; 
 And the gambler's feverish itching to risk his stake again, — 
 Who knoweth ? one more cast may change this wreck into an 
 argosy ! 
 
 There be four categories of speaking, to square the habit of 
 
 candour. 
 And all who are outspoken fall in with one of these : 
 Simplicity uttereth its verdict with unintended bluntness, 
 Telling inconvenient secrets, often to much hurt ; 
 Mischief blurteth out a taunt heedlessly for amusement, 
 Glad if others wince to hear, and stinging by a word ; 
 Envy whispereth its malice for jealousy of rivals, — 
 How pleasant through mere candour to be able to cut deep ! 
 Sincerity telleth out the truth with conscience to displeasing, 
 And if it bruiseth is self-wounded by its precious balms. 
 
 There be four phases of conduct, to square the character of 
 courage, 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^
 
 -^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 yv 
 
 -^ 
 
 __ „„. ^ 
 
 384 OF FOURFOLD DIFFERENCES. 
 
 AhcL each of us hath erred in these, or energized discreetly : 
 
 The rash unthinking impulse to leap defying danger, 
 
 As half-intoxicale with health, and hope, and hot young blood ; 
 
 The calmly deliberate resolve, with calculated consequences,— 
 
 It may cost this and that, but all the risk is worth it ; 
 
 A low-born fear of man, ridicule spurring into action, — 
 
 If I shrink they laugh,— I dare it and escape them ; 
 
 And sternness of high duty commanding perilous exploit, — 
 
 With God my helper, I will beard those lions in the way ! 
 
 There be four variations of economy, to square the charge oi 
 
 meanness ; 
 And parsimonious avarice is sometimes truer prudence : 
 The habit of diligent thrift, caught from neighbour to neighbour- 
 Often a local custom, or a larger national wisdom ; 
 An abnegation of all luxury, from ascetic conscience, 
 Choosing rather pulse and lentils, and refusing meats ; 
 The utter lust of lucre, dishonourably indulged, 
 As saving coins for saving's sake in covetous idolatry ; 
 And wish to live an honest life by husbanding small means, 
 That upright independent scheme, more generous than uncomely. 
 
 There be four fruitions of man's heart, to square varieties in 
 
 feeling, 
 And most of us, by turns belike, have haply met them all : 
 Acrid pulp with a solid stone, sour tamarind and no sweet kernel, 
 The utterly wicked and unlovely, insensible though sensual ; 
 Rough husk and soft sweet core, a cocoa-nut in the tropics, 
 The rude coarse nature as to manner, with kindliness and gentleness 
 
 in matter ; 
 Glutinous sugar on bitter death, as poison-berries of the yew, 
 The polished villain of society, murderous even in his mercies ; 
 And wholesome fruit throughout, good food from rind to centre, 
 That honest, good, true heart, which even God commendeth. 
 
 There be four classes of devout, to square distinction in religion, 
 And few of men or women are not counted in these four : 
 The solid state-and-church-man, as all his fathers were, 
 Gallio enough in soul and sense, although self-judged a Paul ; 
 The superstitious zealot, all alert for rites and robes, 
 Forgetful in such child's-play of his manlier work on earth ; 
 
 _ — . ^ — -i
 
 OF FOURFOLD DIFFERENCES. 385 
 
 The sconicr of tliose liturgies, yet earnest, penitent, prayerful, 
 
 Whose altar to the living God is built within his heart ; 
 
 And the man of a wisest moderation, worslaijjping in spirit and in 
 
 truth, 
 Who lioldetli faith and forms and works, with tolerance and all 
 
 charity. 
 
 There be four species in affection, to square tlie condition ol 
 
 love. 
 And one or other insect-type, as thus, will sketch all lovers : 
 The moth about a candle, dazed and drunk with admiration, 
 Caught by beauty's glances, and sore-singed in passion's flame ; 
 The wasp with selfish greed burrowmg into peaches. 
 Cruel even where indulgence pampereth it the most ; 
 The honey-bee domestically storing household sweets, 
 Useful, tranquil, home-affectioned, real and not romantic ; 
 And this exotic firefly, flashing across life's darkness, 
 A star upon some flower by night, as dropt to earth from heaven. 
 
 There be four varieties in kindliness, to square the state of 
 
 friendship. 
 And all thy most acquainted can be gathered in these bounds : 
 The common so-called friend, thy well-met free companion, 
 Full of talk and social news, at clubs, at home, abroad ; 
 The higher-sphered than thou, thy gracious, generous patron. 
 To whom all gratitude is due for benefits to come ; 
 Some genial man of humbler life, haply thine own dependent. 
 Honest, honourable, and shrewd, but coarse and not thine e(|ual ; 
 And last the rare true jewel, the brother of thy soul, 
 Ready ■\\ ith every sort of help, and worthy of all love. 
 
 There be four gradations in acquirement, to square the theme of 
 
 intelligence, 
 
 And each and all of us may stand on one of these declensions : 
 
 Learning, that externally collecteth hidden wealth from many. 
 
 A matter of wise diligence and constant education : 
 
 Genius, breeding inwardly from secret wealth of one, 
 
 A meditative spirit developing its treasures ; 
 
 Idle stolidity and blankness, dimming all man's brain 
 
 As with thick clouds, till brighter worlds may shine the dark 
 
 away ; 
 
 2b 

 
 **- 
 
 4- 
 
 386 OF FOURFOLD DIFFERENCES. 
 
 And oftenest the urdinary mind, tinged with common knowledge, 
 Enough for society and commerce and fashioned by the times. 
 
 There be four degrees of calculation, to square the credit of 
 prudence, 
 
 And prudence from its very name is providential care : 
 
 For gain of this world's worth, each modern man's ambition, 
 
 An honest ^^■ish with every one, to benefit his own ; 
 
 For conscience' sake toward heaven, as filling well one's niche, 
 
 With heedful eye for either world, its special needs and profits ; 
 
 For sobering the proclivities of nature, constraining and re- 
 straining, 
 
 As conquering circumspectly through every wise advantage ; 
 
 For giving none occasion to the enemy, for setting right example 
 to the young, 
 
 For steadfastness in good, and for strength against the evil. 
 
 There be four generations of the moralists, squaring the virtue of 
 
 pure living, 
 And all respectabilities are classed in one of these : 
 With some the conditions of their natures are cold, continent, and 
 
 sober, 
 That even weedy vice will flag in such a clay-bound soil ; 
 With some education and self-interest command the outward 
 
 morals, 
 And so far this is well, a step to inward worth ; 
 With some their dutiful life-struggles contend against infirmities 
 
 and passion, — 
 How much more honourable for these the battle than for those ! 
 With some the rapture of religion shall soar above corruptions, 
 And contemplated love and glory cleanse the heart from sin. 
 
 There be four views of life, to square the accident of fortune. 
 And Providence hath stablished each man's lot in one of these : 
 The good that seemeth evil, spirit's gain with body's loss, — 
 Happy exchange from wealth and sin, to piety in afflictions ; 
 The evil seeming good, a flood of rich prosperity 
 Hardening-up the heart with pride Where humljleness once 
 
 softened ; 
 All miseries for both worlds, the worst both here and ever, 
 Pain and ratrs and filth a"d crime, with fearful looking forward ;
 
 OF CURIOUS QUESTIONS. ^87 V 
 
 And every eartlily blessing liere, with lieavenly joys elsewhere, 
 As our Good Prince can testify, a winner of botl: worlds. 
 
 Thus have I set before your patience four-times-four ensamples, 
 In every character and circumstance evidencing fourfold difference. 
 
 OF CURIOUS QUESTIONS. 
 
 This world of strange creations, so prodigal in wastefulness of 
 
 life, 
 Teeming with eggs, and seeds, and germs, nipped by death con- 
 tinually, 
 Is it then a nursery and storehouse for other orbs elsewhere, 
 A workshop where the Maker constructeth His machines, 
 Each to live developing more gloriously hereafter 
 By progress toward perfection in their natures and their forms? 
 The multitudes on multitudes here only born to die, 
 So intricately fashioned and so exquisitely coloured. 
 Have these no life beyond, wherein to worship God 
 And show to angel-minds His skill, by man too long imnoted? 
 For all are cherished darlings of their Father, and each might be 
 
 His masterpiece. 
 And none were made solely for destruction, toys to be flung away: 
 Would He annihilate a creature His mercy once hath formed. 
 Nor rather let it grow to bliss, continuously progressing? 
 Can the Unchangeable be changed, or His purpose fail. 
 Or any weak caprice be mingled with His vast design? 
 There is more than room enow for all the gene:ations of earth's 
 
 children 
 In yonder shoal of suns we see, with unseen planets round them, — 
 And all %ve note are but a sample of the wondrous whole, 
 The many mansions waiting to be filled with various life; 
 For it is Infinity, not space, innumerable homes for happy 
 
 creatures. 
 Every star a sun, invisibly attended l)y its system, 
 And each of those vast satellites, various in form and glory. 
 To be stocked from this nursery of earth, and perfect all her seeds : 
 Who knoweth? nothing shall be wasted ; not one egg in vain; 
 Every kind of life immortal in its Maker!
 
 ■A 
 
 388 0J'^ CURIOUS QUESTIONS. 
 
 Haply, in like sort, the differences of onr human spirits 
 
 May segregate and crystallize apart, for separate suitable worlds , 
 
 There may be habitations for the mirthful, for the curious, the 
 
 gloomy, or the mean ; 
 There may be studious spheres wherein each science shall expand ; 
 There may be special homes, even as we know with good and evil. 
 For varied intermediates not yet grown to their extremes; 
 An infinite diversity of dwelling for infinite diverseness in the 
 
 spirit. 
 Not an identity of place, where there is no sameness in condition. 
 Every star may hold its sort, the fiery or the gentle. 
 The humorous or the melancholy, of its planet's kind, — 
 And will may flit hereafter from one to other freely, 
 That the community of worlds may speed the community of spirits. 
 For were not all these made to be inherited? and by what shapes 
 
 or natures, 
 With how great powers and senses, yet man's allies in mind? 
 Light argueth vision, orbits prove the seasons, 
 And the spectrum giveth hints of chemic forms like ours: 
 Stars differing in glory shall have dwellers suited to their state, 
 A liglitsome orb for the aerial, and a denser globe for the material ; 
 The glory of the celestial for one, the glory of the terrestrial for 
 
 another. 
 And God glorified in all, by the varied happiness of creatures. 
 
 Whither wend the dead, when here they leave tlie living? 
 
 Are they lingering near us still, or carried far away? 
 
 Name them not as lost, nor peevishly speak of them for poor. 
 
 Nor think of them despairingly as m.uch to be lamented: 
 
 Our hope is they are found, not lost, — and safe with the Good 
 
 Shepherd in His fold, 
 And rich for heaven, though poor for earth, as leaving all behind 
 
 them. 
 And only gone awhile before across that swelling Jordan 
 To jom, as one by one they ford, life's caravan of pilgrims, 
 Who tread some shadowy desert-tract between this world and 
 
 that, 
 Where all shall meet to start again, unburdened by corruption. 
 
 But whither go they for tliis while? and wliere that shadowy shore? 
 A beach beyond our firmament, surroundmg us in space? 
 
 ^
 
 OF CURIOUS QUESTIONS. 389 
 
 Are spirits in some prison-house, with angels for their warders,— 
 The souls asleep in Jesus, dreaming conscious dreams of joy, 
 The castaway and reprobate, awake to fears of judgment, 
 The common multitudes between, sluml^ering well at rest? 
 And these and others all, released from crazy tabernacles, 
 Bide they in some vast globe, their vestibule for waiting, 
 Some spiritual planet, as etherealized to lightness, 
 Enormously expanded, farthest wanderer round the sun, 
 P'it dwelling for a season of the disembodied souls 
 Awaiting there earth's second birth, her baptism of fire? 
 
 Do some souls linger here, unseen, unknown, unthought of? 
 
 Might any cross that gulf again, for any right or reason? 
 
 Who knoNveth ? — some have hoped as much, and many more have 
 
 feared it, 
 As conscience or affection gave strange keenness to the mind. 
 But surely man's life-trial-scene, fulfilled with many hardships, 
 Must not be weighted with such dreads to hinder daily duties;   
 Mortals stand in separation, the father not a surety for the son. 
 Each to run the gauntlet single-handed and self-helping : 
 And how should men go forth to all our common toils and travails 
 If haunted by departed souls that have no business here ? 
 Superstitious terrors would hunt us to our harm 
 With ghostly visitations till we scarce could dare to meet them : 
 And though, from innocence of wrong, thou hadst no likely fear, 
 As friendly with the dead for having never M'ronged the living, 
 Yet these grim watchers l)y thy side would hamper honest life- 
 work. 
 And make thy working days more dreamy than thy Sabbath 
 
 nights : 
 While where for guilt there seemeth cause, the fraud, the lie, tlie 
 
 murder, 
 Why antedate the judgment, when all deeds will rise again ? 
 Why should a spirit, well released from cruelties and evils, 
 Return for petty vengeance, when the Lord is his avenger? 
 Conscience alone is well enough, and punisheth discreetly 
 Without the presence of the wronged, ulbeit he hath life : 
 All the children of Eve are living to this hour. 
 Departed and departing, but existent somewhere still ; 
 All are of one great family, that lodge in several mansions, 
 All in various states and phases, yet alike ali\e ;
 
 390 OF CURIOUS QUESTIONS. 
 
 And every spirit liveth on according to its kind : 
 
 Tlie filtliy shall be fdthy still, the holy still be holy; 
 
 The thoughtful, and the cruel, and the liar, and the sage. 
 
 The mind tliat well beginneth here the wisdom learnt of nature, 
 
 The soul that seeketh God, or that worshippeth itself, 
 
 All are living and pursuing faintly each its aims. 
 
 Crowds of other notions ever pressing on the mind 
 
 Provoke more curious questioning, though hopeless of much 
 
 answer. 
 Have angels, under Christ their Lord, been used as lower workers? 
 And did each bring his offering, for God to stamp with life, 
 Yea, the evil as the good, accordmg to their natures, 
 When all the morning stars rejoiced to hail our new-born earth, 
 And this green farm was stocked and stored through ministering 
 
 angels ? 
 Satan and his servants, with the better sons of God 
 Attending in the Great King's couit, as patient Job beheld him, 
 May well have mingled living mischiefs,— have been allowed to 
 
 I mingle — 
 
 E With works of noble sort and more benevolent in kind : 
 
 * Hence a scorpion as a butterfly ; stings so near to honey ; 
 
 i The cruel deeds, and ugly shapes, the vermin, toads, and aspics ; 
 Hideous foils to beauty and the shadow for each light, — 
 Permitted evil everywhere to prove and cleanse creation. 
 
 Whence too came wit and humour,— from the heights or from the 
 
 depths ? 
 What are mirth and laughter,— do they tend to good or evil? 
 Have ludicrous thoughts any nobler source than of this world 
 
 worldly, 
 Or are those scintillations but low stubble-sparks of earth ? 
 Yet, phases opposite in kind, obtuseness and moroseness, 
 .Such emanations came not from above but from below : 
 Chiilt hath gloomy sorrow, while innocence is cheerful, 
 And rather mirth than melancholy would seem the heavenly type. 
 All things have deep reasons ; even to corruption and disease, 
 The microscope detecteth in them wonders of design ; 
 Least things as things greatest have their orbits spanned by Pro- 
 vidence, 
 And accident and so-called chance are Nothings in the world. 
 
 -^
 
 OF CURIOUS QUESTIONS. 391 
 
 Thus, even anagrams and liddles, and word-games, and acrostics, 
 
 And flashings of keen wit, and exaggerative humour, 
 
 Analogy of sounds combined with paradox in sense, 
 
 All seem to grow of hidden laws that govern uttered thought. 
 
 Reason, which revealeth all our mightiest distant marvels, 
 
 The mysteries in the heavens, and the secrets of the earth, 
 
 Is quick to watch for ordered rules in little as in great, 
 
 In humorous aptitudes alike with modes and forms of logic, 
 
 In puns and jests and plays of words, in letteis of one's name — 
 
 So often touching curiously on character and conduct, — 
 
 In trivial talk not less than wiser elegancies of language, 
 
 In suitable sounds as well as their philosophy of sense. 
 
 Consider also, is it not a marvel that those who found out rhythm, 
 
 Our masters in word-painting, the poets of old days, 
 
 Never should have stumbled upon rhyme, till monks found out its 
 
 sweetness, 
 Or troubadours invented the jangle of like sounds. 
 For well-nigh fifty centuries no nation under heaven 
 Had wedded war-song nor love-ditty to the charm of rhyme, - 
 But when the Latin jingle first caught the world's great ear 
 Forthwith those Leonnine-verses seemed to fascinate its heart, 
 And spreading like a prairie-fire, the dainty trick of rhyme 
 Flew swiftly over every land, an epidemic passion. 
 Is it not a wonder that Anacreon, or Martial, or Horace or 
 
 Catullus 
 Never added to sweet rhythm the sweeter charm of rhyme ? 
 Is it not strange that till to-day no tongue hath asked this 
 
 question. 
 How came it that the world M'as old before it rhymed a stanza ? 
 
 For further question ; — be there spirits good and bad abroad, 
 
 Inoculating nations with an epidemic power, 
 
 And as through some reflective glass, or quick electric spark 
 
 Communicating to thy neighbour thoughts by thee unuttered? 
 
 Secret crimes are multiplied, alike in each detail ; 
 
 Inventions in some selfsame hour are seen by several minds, 
 
 Theories and ideas, that grew originally thine, 
 
 At once, as if from seed broadcast, are found to spring elsewhere; 
 
 And, even as Micaiah spake, some spirits true or lying 
 
 Would seem to carry facts and fancies swiftly through the v,-orld. 
 
 -^f
 
 392 OF CURIOUS QUESTIONS, 
 
 Again ; wliere ticks and knocks ave heard, and wizards peep and 
 
 mutter. 
 Is not tlieir table made a snare to catch themselves withal? 
 Yet honest witnessing is much, and secrets shown are more, 
 And, — how to judge those mental wonders fairly and discreetly? 
 Can some be human magnets, and diviners of one's thought, 
 Or men by whose galvanic force dull matter is inspired? 
 Who knoweth? some have heard and seen, have known and felt 
 
 strange things ; » 
 
 The world of souls ^^'e thought so far away may yet be near us. 
 
 Is it not the wonder of this West, considering human likings 
 And noting that antagonist custom in the patriarchal East, 
 That single wedlock everywhere is fixed for law and usage, 
 And thus a new commandment superadded to the ten ? 
 
 I How should a sin be great or nothing as the map decideth ? 
 
 j Why must Justinian's Roman code still govern modern Europe? 
 
 ' Some have dared such questions for society to answer, 
 
 i And answer comelJi curtly, — double wedlock is a crime. 
 
 3 
 \ 
 
 \ Is it not a marvel of neglect with all our zeal for sacraments, 
 
 J That no strict sect felt ever bound to wash a brother's feet ? 
 
 And yet it was enjoined on all, as clear a Christian duty 
 As Christ's example and command have ever laid on man : 
 Is this a sacrament that failed, through climate or through 
 
 custom? 
 Are his disciples here absolved from doing as He bade ? 
 And why among so many sects, each witli the key of heaven, 
 Hath no one hinged his door on this, our Saviour's humblest 
 act? 
 
 Is it not a miracle of wrong, that where the Lord gave thanks, 
 
 That simple eucharist is forced to idol-consecrations? 
 
 And yet, when He fed multitudes, He blessed, and brake the 
 
 loaves 
 Religiously with equal thanks and no pretence of mystery : 
 O grievous miracle of wrong, that the blessed Spiritual Presence 
 Evermore I'ealized on earth where two or three worship together, 
 Should be twisted by the lens of superstition into hideous and 
 
 absurd distortion, 
 The cruel cause for tortured saints and virgms burnt alive !
 
 h 
 
 
 OF CURIOUS QUESTIONS. 393 
 
 Is it not a strangeness of abuse that certain words with water 
 
 Are held regeneration, and enough to save the soul ? 
 
 And yet, at first, conversion, witii faith and real repentance 
 
 Fore-ran, not only followed, that seal upon the brow : 
 
 O piteous strangeness of abuse \\\\t\t a cleansing and refreshing in 
 
 the symbol 
 By false exaggeration is made the seal for heaven, 
 Till Xavier saveth savages by buckets of sea-\\-ater from his 
 
 boat, 
 And Herod's innocents are doomed, unsprinkled, to Gehenna ! 
 
 Is it not a deep sad proof that faith is warped from reason 
 
 When well-nigh everywhere the sign is made to stand its truth, 
 
 When those who never pray to God, bow down before His priest, 
 
 And sinners buy from sinners absolution of their sins ! 
 
 O bitter evidence that still, even in these clear days, 
 
 ^Vhen light and knowledge blaze around to scare away all dark • 
 
 ne3s, 
 Conscience hideth hard from God, as Adam :r. the garden, 
 Clinging to any mediator who is net the Ch.i'~jt. 
 
 Is it not a faitliless folly, in argmrents to favour resurrection, 
 That most men judge creation only made to be destroyed. 
 That nothing of the Makei's works save man shall live again. 
 And blank annihilation prove all other fabrics failures? 
 O silly selfishness, — we think to glorify our m.anhood 
 By blotting from earth's kingdom all creatures but their king, 
 Whereby this world's regenerate state were but an empty realm, 
 Wilh man alone, and none beside to help or do him homage ! 
 
 Is it not the paragon of shame, that hierarchy ever hath contrived 
 To link wilh each most sacred name some basest thought ol 
 
 evil ? 
 That fraud, lies, hate attach to the society of Jesus,— 
 That his dear Presence stood the cause of martyrs burnt alive, — 
 That holy inquisition is a horror to the mind 
 As binding up with tortures every doctrine of religion, 
 That man's most hideous guilt hath grown of zeal for God, 
 And earth's worst catalogue of crime is fathered on the Ciiurch ? 
 Wliether in Italy, France, or Spain, in Smithfield or Thibet, 
 By India's funeral pyres, or Portugal's martyr stakes,
 
 ■#- 
 
 394 OF CURIOUS QUESTIONS. 
 
 With screws, and whips, and racks, — with pincers, flames, and 
 
 starvings. 
 The priest hath everywhere defamed rehgion and tl:e Church ! 
 
 What is the Chuich? — They steal a name and fix it on their fore- 
 heads. 
 Styling the building, with its ritual and its priest, the Church : 
 And vestments are brought forth, as erst to worship Baal, 
 And incense, though aliomination, and the blessing idols, 
 And men with faces towards the east and backs against the 
 
 temple. 
 That temple of God's people which the rapt Ezekiel saw. 
 
 The Church? It is not ministries, nor sacraments, nor altars, 
 
 Albeit such be scaffolding to build its living stones ; 
 
 Yet is the Church far more than so, — the beauteous of all ages. 
 
 The spiritual bride of Christ from Abel to this hour; 
 
 The Church is one choice band, gathered of all the churches, 
 
 Yea, and beyond our narrow creeds, of all outside their pales; 
 
 A family, whose absent Head is prayed for till He cometh, 
 
 A caravan of pilgrims, M'ith their Leader gone before; 
 
 A company of faithful soldiers, watching for their Captain, — 
 
 Of every race and nation, and in every place and time. 
 
 Go to : thy selfish churchmanship may have its special praise, 
 Its privileges, its duties, well-responsible to thee ; 
 But heed thou of thy kindred in all ages and all climes, 
 That God's own ark hath every sort of every tribe and sect, 
 That Cyrus, Socrates, and Paul are brothers in the Church, 
 And that the arms of Christ were nailed outstretched to clasp the 
 world. 
 
 Are there not multitudes oi mysteries? Is any question answered? 
 The how and why of anything, Who knoweth? Who can guess? 
 Names hide things ; the heap of learned words 
 Hath great show of knowledge, the rather if such be not under- 
 stood. 
 What is life? What is light? What is heat, or motion? 
 Is not sleep a sort of death, and wakening resurrection? 
 In the quick work of genius, be it statue, book, or painting. 
 Is there any semi-soul, existent vital truth?
 
 ^ 
 
 OF MAA-'S DA TE UPON EARTH. 395 
 
 Is not evcrytliing that is, so ordered that it could not liave lieen 
 
 other, 
 And yet the will of man is free to turn toward good and evil? 
 And all beside of questioned sort, — cruelty, wrong, and sin, 
 And tyrannies of circumstance, mechanics, and statistics, 
 Tend they not each to this. Follow thou Me is needful, — ! 
 
 But for aught else of secret matter, — What is that to thee? 
 
 OF MAN'S DATE UPON EARTH. 
 
 Some have dreamt that Adam, though placed alone in Eden, 
 
 As perfect fruit and flower himself of man upon this earth, 
 
 Had yet mean human l^indred, out of Paradise, beyond, 
 
 Poor forms of lo^^'er manhood, that had crept through generations ; 
 
 Commencing in some brutish phase, or, haply, viler still. 
 
 Through fish and humbler vegetal, or aboriginal monad. 
 
 They fancy hinted vengeful trilies, of whom black Cain was 
 
 fearful ; 
 They hear of some dim nomad realm, where he roamed forth to 
 
 build ; 
 They think that on some savage shores, Australian or Fuegian, 
 Remnants of such Pric-Adamites are dwelling to this day ; 
 They deem it strange and false to claim a unity of race 
 For Negroes, Laps, Chinese, and Persians, Esquimaux, and 
 
 Britons ; 
 They want uncounted ceons for development of man, 
 His languages, inventions, and customs and traditions, 
 And claim primeval Adam a result of million ages. 
 Before in perfectness he could stand up and speak with God. 
 
 Vain, vain imaginations ! — For the Maker made him perfect, 
 
 Though free to fall, more free to rise, upright and very good : 
 
 The Maker made him man at once, proportioned and adapted, 
 
 iMan at his best as all beside, at best and full of seed. 
 
 True, he had come as if the fruit and climax of creations. 
 
 Lower forms through long drawn eras leading up to him : 
 
 First after the chaos, were motion light and cosmos ; 
 
 Next the lighter swathe of air, and grosser band of waters ; 
 
 Third, the land productive at a word, an age of vegetal life ; 
 
 Fourth, the ordinances of heaven, and our circling seasons ; j ^ 
 
 ^
 
 396 OF MAN'S DATE UPON EARTH. 
 
 "FiftTi, an eia of great whales, of lizards, bats, and birds; 
 Sixth, of all creatines upon earth after their kinds and orders: 
 Then all these eras long wrought out were indexed by six days, 
 The literal week of cosmos, with its hiiman lord and master, 
 Last in tlie pageant of creation shown the king of all, 
 Preceded by his servants, and surrounded by his courtiers, 
 And with that gentle queen beside him, springing from his heart — 
 The mother of all living, and the Empress of tlie World ! 
 
 Man, created by His fiat, from the dust of mother-earth, 
 Miraculously born at once, with seed w'ithin himself. 
 Cutting the cycle of eternity by the radius commencing time. 
 And at full manhood crowned and throned as king of this creation, 
 Well might contain in his self-sphere a small epitome of all things, 
 And stand, as wise men said of old, the human Micro-kosmos ; 
 Hence, from that germinating dust, his body and his being 
 Hint at all the lower forms beneath their highest monarch, 
 Foreshown that he would be their chief, having sympathies and 
 
 bkenesses with all. 
 The fish, the bird, the mammal, — nay the vegetal, and crystal. 
 Not as born through them bodily, but fashioned of set purpose. 
 Constructed of analogies, that prove creation One ; 
 Made, when and as his world was ready, the reasonable image of 
 
 his Maker, 
 A creature at the focus of perfection in all kinds. 
 Thus, born at best at first, inspired with language and inventions, 
 Thereafter did the penalties on sin drag down our glorious race, 
 Till the savage, mind and body, was degraded little higher than an 
 
 ape. 
 Where the black progeny of Cain swarmed over tropical marshes : 
 Never could the monkey rise to man, though man might sink to 
 
 monkey, 
 (Savmg for the great gulfs fixed, in conscience, reason, spirit,) 
 And the secret of our baser tribes is seen, in their lapse from first 
 
 perfection, 
 Not in the fancied climbing-up of animal-brute to man : 
 jMoreover, if other things have grown, evolving one from other, 
 Humanity was added from above, " I have said that ye are Gods.' 
 
 The word is sure, that "things which are seen, were not made of 
 things which do appear," 
 
 r-
 
 OF MAN'S DATE UPON EARTIf. 397 
 
 And that the fool hath said in his heart, there is no God, things grew. 
 So the most learned as to creatures monstrously denieth the Creator, 
 Curiously resolving that creation made itself ! 
 And rather than admit a God, with miracle and gracious revelation, 
 Refuseth His image unto man, developed from the lowest brute. 
 O most impotent conclusion, of philosophy falsely so called, 
 Where skill is made servant to ungodliness, and knowledge warped 
 to strive against religion ! 
 
 The Maker taught man language, with no need to learn it slowly, 
 And gave him reason, light, and skill, at once and without stint : 
 The Maker afterwards on earth filled those lost years of Adam 
 (Who, in full vigour, though just born, stood not as child, but 
 
 man) 
 For Christ, the second Adam, as thus, forelived the first, 
 l?y making-up Time's earliest gap of three and thirty years. 
 Why else should Christ have died so soon, nor lived the span of 
 
 life. 
 Except that Adam's sudden manhood lacked those years pre- 
 ceding ? 
 Hence, both first and second Adam build the perfect Man, 
 And so the model creature hath its harmony and oneness, 
 Christ fulfilling Adam's life, and dying on his birth-day, 
 Thus by life and sacrifice precursing death and sin. 
 
 Then, as for those avengers, whom black Cain so justly feared ; 
 Might such not well have been dead Abel's unnamed brethren? 
 Fruitful Eve was crowded round by throngs of sons and daughters. 
 And, beside his holiest Seth, Adam had bands of children. 
 Then for that nomad reahn of Nod ; the name is exile, flight,— 
 So given in after years, as where the manslayer had fled : 
 And for all savage tribes ; those outliers of the nations 
 From earliest times have stolen aside, crawling away from light ; 
 Degenerated and sensual sons, though well-nigh sunk to brutes 
 Still must we own with sadness those poor prodigals our brothers. 
 
 The learned scheme out several races, culling the extremes of 
 
 each. 
 To set forth sucn exemplars in strange and startling contrast : 
 The Hottentot, the Arab, the Fin, and the Malay, 
 The stunted dwarf of the Obongo. the wiry-thewed Red Indian, 
 
 '^
 
 398 OF MAN'S DA TE UPON EARTH. 
 
 The lithe Hindoo, the sturdy Russ, the Tuscan, and llie Tartar, 
 How oppositely seen are these as different in kind ! 
 Yet such diversities are strong in their extremes alone, 
 Their means have much of likeness as of the same great family ; 
 For, such shades of difference flit over every race, 
 Such a melting of one into the other over all the world, 
 That many times in any crowd one may discern all features, 
 The Tartar's eye, the negro's lip, the high Caucasian brow. 
 
 And look to the varieties of breed, everywhere rife in nature ; 
 
 No two provinces alike, for herds or flocks or produce. 
 
 The northern cattle brought down south, to rich and sunny 
 
 pastures. 
 Within three generations lose their rough and stinted shapes ; 
 Fishes of various rivers have peculiar forms in each ; 
 Antelopes are diversely spotted in their several prairies : 
 How wide the differences between the racer and the drayhorse, 
 The setter and the spaniel, the bloodhound and the bvdldog ; 
 Yet these within man's knowledge have sported from one breeding, 
 With more of strong distinctive traits than human races show. 
 Climate, soil, and habits, hardship, luxury, diseases, 
 These will operate strange change on members of one stock ; 
 Nay, the same nursery of children, tended just alike. 
 Come of one father and one mother, similarly fed and taught, 
 How various oft in body and mind, and bents to good or evil. 
 How often different and distinct in features and in forms. 
 
 Adam, by his name the Red, had intermediate colour. 
 His sons diverging either way toward the light or dark : 
 Or haply Cain's dread punishment was blackness universal, 
 That curse of primal murder overclouding soul and body ; 
 So his offspring, stained like him, should carry down the tint, 
 And through some negress wife of Ham survive in Noah's Ark : 
 Not but that Christ's glad gospel hath since made all things new. 
 The leopard's spots are scattered, and the Ethiop's skin is changed, 
 Peter's sheet had every kind and none are now unclean, 
 Candace's sable eunuch is as pure a soul as Abel ; 
 In Jesus all are made alive, and sons of Ham and Canaan, 
 Even if Cainites, are made clean, and white as snow on Salmon, 
 
 Adam placed in Eden, at perfection, mind and liody, 
 
 T
 
 OF MAN'S DA TE CPON EARTH. 399 
 
 After his biltcr fall was left to reason and inventions : 
 And Seth's good sons kept righteousness to sanctify their lives, 
 Religion and the peaceful arts, Mith homes and flocks and herds ; 
 But Cain's and Lamech's evil spav.n contended in corruption, 
 And Tubal-Cain — old Vulcan — gave them weapons for their wars: 
 The good seed, fixed in tropic climes, soon grew to wealth and 
 
 science, 
 While centuries of intellect, so crowded in one life, 
 Ripened wisdoms rapidly, and forced the race of Seth 
 To early miracles of skill, discovery, and knowledge : 
 The bad seed, crawling miserably about the wintry world, 
 To wrestle with hyenas in those glacier-caves and forests, 
 Soon forgat all goodness in their struggle for mere life. 
 And sowed the cliffs, the sands, the lakes, with savage human 
 
 seed, 
 Dwindled, weak, with animal skulls, where reason's lamp burnt 
 
 dimly, 
 And scarcely battling down the bears with axes of chipped flint. 
 Mammoths and fish-lizards may have lived and fought with such, 
 In marshy wilds and lakes, aswarm with scaly dragons, 
 Behemoths and Leviathans coeval with our race. 
 Nor near so long extinguished as some eager sages argue. 
 That bad seed fiercely pioneered the better human family, 
 Traversing glaciered continents and the warmer tilted poles ; 
 But in the hardships of such toil decayed and grew degraded, 
 While Japhet's happier sons came on and seized the spoils of 
 
 Ham. 
 Bushmen, Australians, and Andamans have well-nigh sunk to 
 
 apes. 
 But Jews and Saxons and Chinese preserve their nobler vantage ; 
 Whole tribes have lost their high estate, and fallen near the 
 
 brute ; 
 Hottentot skulls and Celtic jowls are humbling and deforming ; 
 But brutes can never win one step progressing up toward man ; 
 There is the great gulph fixed, and effort cannot leap it ; 
 Brutes cannot rise to reason, to religion, or to speech, 
 Nor man q\iite quench his lights, nor fall to animal dumbness. 
 
 And there is none urgent reason in the languages of men 
 Why more than these six thousand years Man should have dwelt 
 on earth ; 
 
 ■A
 
 40O OF MAN'S DA TE UPON EARTH. 
 
 For those languages liave so great likeness, so much to pcjint at 
 
 oneness, 
 That Adam's primal tongue may well be found their centre. 
 Speech M-as the earliest inspiration breathed into man by God, 
 Not unmeaning utterance, but rational expression of the mind ; 
 Though ^^•ords were few and short, in sound they told the 
 
 sense, 
 And the Great King listened condescendingly, to hear Man name 
 
 his servants : 
 Thus from that first beginning in providence and reason 
 
   Words grew, and things were called, as earth's lord pleased to hail 
 
 - them. 
 
 As every tribe of men hath Adam one sole father, 
 
 : So every language in the world hath one, one only, root ; 
 
 And, as the various races with all difference are the same. 
 So many tones of likeness bind those diverse tongues in one : 
 Then say not thou this knot is lazily cut by miracle, 
 Though there was that miraculous beginning, in analogy with all 
 
 things else. 
 Speech, God's first gift to man, combining voice with mind. 
 By lip and tongue pronouncing his articulated wants 
 Evolved, by daily growings out of those one-syllabled seeds, 
 The slowly-gathered harvest of that patriarchal language. 
 Thereafter, as our Maker willed, the reason given to man. 
 Conceived for thoughts, revealed by speech their carved or written 
 
 symbols. 
 Signs set for sounds, to teach beyond the hearing. 
 And somewhiles secretly devised to hide their facts from foes : 
 Hence grew lists of divers signs expressing the like sounds, 
 And varied symbols showing forth the differences of utterance. 
 In a cold clime speech grew stern, more liquid in the warmer, 
 Hardship growled his guttural notes, and plenty poured soft 
 
 rhythm, 
 Hatred hissed and muttered, love made long-drawn music, 
 Courage spoke out whole round words, cowardice whispered 
 
 halves ; 
 So that, even short of Babel, over various climes. 
 Within few generations many tongues would soon outspring. 
 Constructed with much likeness as to common rules of grammar. 
 In times and modes and fonns of speech, the laws that build up 
 language 
 
 ^~ — — -^ — ^ -A
 
 OF SLEEP. 40 
 
 I T 
 
 The vocal sounds from lung and tliroat, and cliecks Ly nioulli 
 
 and lip 
 Are alike in every people's tongue, whatever be their symbols ; 
 And names for things, with words of action, oft are found ahke 
 In many languages of men, witii sundry common phrases : 
 ijo that, varying in much, in mucli are tongues so like. 
 Their root is seen as one, with a hundredfold of tillering. 
 
 There remaineth the question of dispersion, the peopling of this 
 
 globe ; 
 And more than fifty centuries give more than ample time. 
 No monumental relic of our race hath near such age ; 
 Not piled-up rocks of Druidism, nor galleries in tlie cliffs, 
 Nor giant prairie-mounds, nor flint knives, nor stone liatchets, 
 Nor later far strange Yucatan, nor wondrous Eleplianla : 
 None need be more than half as old ; and, for barbarian eras, 
 Tradition, fable, lunar years, confound historic fact. 
 Man in degradation at his darkest worst estate 
 Crawled over all this planet, from Arctic to Antarctic ; 
 Age after age, from east to west, he slowly wandered on, 
 And rafted the tempestuous seas, or crept across the Poles ; 
 Nor needed more antiquity ; the circuit of the world 
 Was tracked by those who dwell thereon far sooner than men 
 
 doubt it. 
 
 OF SLEEP. 
 
 Every night a dissolution, as every morn a resurrection ; 
 
 Sleep the sister of death, sleep the mother of life : 
 
 Here is the windingsheet in darkness, the silent strait obstruction, 
 
 The day's accounts all closed, and dreamland opening dimly, 
 
 In the strange wakefulness of slumber that ever breedeth dteams. 
 
 Dream growing into dream, and life evolved from life : 
 
 Here is the newborn light quickening to fresher energies. 
 
 Another Present growing from the seedcorn of the Past, 
 
 Both flesh and spirit bathed again in prayer and cleansing water. 
 
 And the new creature clothed-upon for one more phase of life. 
 
 Half our time is spent asleep, yet few men manage wisely 
 How to make sleep happy, and thus redeem that half: 
 Healthy temperance and exercise, puritv and honesty and piety, 
 
 2 c
 
 ■^ 
 
 402 OF SLEEP. 
 
 These reward such worship witli the blessing of sweet sleep : 
 
 But each excess, and evil thoughts, and craft and prayerless 
 
 pillows 
 Yield by night the troublous storm of fancied fears and pains. 
 fie is a prudent husbandman, wliose conscience on his bed 
 Is as a barn well stored with peace, the grain of good remem- 
 berings ; 
 He is a thriftless farmer, whose spirit night by night 
 Is like a wilderness of thorns, a jungle of ill memories. 
 
 How different is one man's night in essence from another 
 
 Here the sleep of innocence, there the swoon of guilt ; 
 
 The hot-brained stupor of the drunken, or mind's ecstatic calm, 
 
 The lying down and rising up, in hope or in despair. 
 
 To one his pillow is a terror, of fearful looking back and looking 
 
 forward, 
 With nothing to secure his heart from feeding on itself; 
 To another all is peacefulness, complacency, and comfort, 
 For present, past, and future, every meditation sweet. 
 Verily, through conscience of the soul, in each man's half of 
 
 life. 
 His due reward or punishment is poured upon him sleeping. 
 
 In dreams how near- allied is reason to unreason, 
 
 What slight divergency in sleep betwixt insane and sane ! 
 
 That which is the uttermost of folly seemeth to the dreamer 
 
 wisdom, 
 Nothing too absurd or false but standeth true for dreams. 
 Imagination worketh while the judgment is at rest, 
 And will is in captivity to good or evil habit : 
 A just reward is herein given to clean and honest morals, 
 That habit standeth sentinel, though will and judgment sleep. 
 And many have dreamt dreams, and suffered from them deeply, 
 And often have been warned betimes, or chastened in a dream ; 
 Yet who remembereth, — who can catch his dream when he 
 
 awaketh ? 
 Vanishing with wakefulness it melteth into light : 
 And often hath the roused-up dreamer striven in vain to hold 
 The strong impression on his brain that faded out so quickly ; 
 In vain,— the life of fancy dieth at the day, 
 Another world, anotlier life, is wakened with the morning.
 
 OF DEL A Y. 403 
 
 O best of blessings for creation, next to life itself, 
 
 How vast a boon to every creature is the gift of sleep, — 
 
 One half of time made happy, though so vext the other. 
 
 Even abjects, slaves, and culprits, soothed and blest thereby, — 
 
 Happy, soothed, and blest, if Sin hatli kissed Repentance, 
 
 Or the good and honest heart is witness to itself 
 
 How can the wicked dare deliberately to sleep, 
 
 Lying down helpless in the dark, unclad except with grave-clothes, 
 
 To sleep, in type to die, — their bed a cushioned coffin, — 
 
 ToiTnented by bad memories in the purgatory of conscience ? 
 
 How can they wake unscared, impenitent, as if to resurrection? 
 
 How can they face another day of life without a God ? 
 
 Wise is the man who kneeleth every night beside his bed ; 
 
 Thou canst not tell if death be now not shrouded in these 
 
 curtains : 
 My Father died asleep, — and never knew he died, — 
 Dead in his bed they found him ; for his soul had passed away : 
 Dead in his bed !^how peaceful looked my Father in his sleep, 
 As if reviewing in calm dreams his tranquil useful life ; 
 One hand beneath the placid cheek, the other on his heart, 
 That pitcher broken at the fountain as a potter's vessel, 
 Its precious liquor spilt and scattered, in one shattering moment, 
 And then all peace and quietness, the good man's sleep in death. 
 He feared to die,— I fear it too, — I dread the pang of pain ; 
 He feared not death, — I fear it not, — for death is only slumber ; 
 Sleeping, dreaming, waking, — blank night and bright to-morrow, 
 Rest, refreshment, energy, — then Life for evermore ! 
 
 OF DELAY. 
 
 Too late ! the door is shut, — depart, I never knew you : 
 Too late ! the time is past : too late, — all hope is over. 
 Instant duty is the wisdom, instant constant duty. 
 Now, with no delay. Now, while nothing letteth. 
 Never may Occasion come again ; so snatch it ere it passeth ; 
 The bitterest wailings of regret moan around perished opportunity 
 The present, the present is thy life ; the past is dead, — with re- 
 surrections ; 
 
 The future, none mav count on that, if onlv for one hour • 1^ 
 ^ __ \ ^ ^
 
 
 404 OF DEL A Y. 
 
 is thy past to thee as notliing ? yet it shall be everything to con- 
 science : 
 
 Can thy future grow to anything ? still it may go out in nigh to 
 nothing. 
 
 God, by Whose will we are, foreknoweth and fore-ordereth, 
 
 And His command is Action ; delay not, lest ye die ; 
 
 By death of power and will, by death of chance and season. 
 
 Not less than by the man's decease, perisheth good occasion : 
 
 The hasty hath been found in fault for over-rapid zeal. 
 
 But oftener conquered through a speed whereby at times he faileth : 
 
 And he that surely doth at once the matters to be done 
 
 Hath not himself to blame for any ruinous delay. 
 
 Be discreet, but with discretion urge to quickest action ; 
 
 Be discreet, but dread delay, the cankerworm of duty ; 
 
 With good speed, not evil hurry, do thy works at once ; 
 
 This care is off thy conscience, and thou hast sown that seed ; 
 
 And now the seed may well begin to grow for flowering and 
 
 fruiting ; 
 Till thou hast sown it neither shoots nor fibres burgeon there. 
 
 Enterprise and energy, — be these thy sandal-shoon, 
 
 O traveller on life's highway, be shod in such for speed, — 
 
 So shalt thou win every race, conquering good successes. 
 
 By simply flinging living facts, Deucalion-like, behind thee. 
 
 O the dreary prospect of some idler on life's road. 
 
 He lingereth and he feareth, — there be lions in the way ; 
 
 Lo, how close and high and rugged frown those threatening 
 
 mountains. 
 Can any faot surmount them, or a path be found between ? — 
 Go on, go on, faint-hearted one ; if courage be but thine 
 The very mountains shall melt down before a Christian's presence: 
 There ever is a way to escape, a track both safe and easy 
 For him whose pilgrim feet are shod with enterprise and strength. 
 
 Resolve slowly, act swiftly ; a quiet eye for the quick hand • 
 The fool hath a hot head, and is clogged with frozen feet. 
 There is a wisdom in delay, to watch, and snatch occasion ; 
 Touch not the trigger till yon charging elephant is close : 
 There is a folly in delay, too slow to turn the tiller ; 
 Quick ! or with a crushing force that huge black hull is on thee. 
 
 ■w 

 
 OF GREAT AND SMALL. 405 
 
 They whose work hath no delay acliieve Herculean labours ; 
 
 A molehill every minute is a mountain in the year : 
 
 Your clock within one twelvemonth ticketh thirty million seconds, 
 
 By steadily without a stop fulfilling small details ; 
 
 But if it lingered as in fear computing that huge sum, 
 
 The feat would seem impossible, and be so, through delay : 
 
 Yet is there given for every tick its moment of existence, 
 
 And instant diligence is found sufficient for its work. 
 
 There is betimes a wise delay, as there is foolish speeding. 
 
 But oftener speed is seen to shame the lingering of delay : 
 
 For that the time is short, occasion passeth swiftly, 
 
 And things get done in doing, no longer still to do, 
 
 And our brief life's kaleidoscope is changing every moment. 
 
 Our complicated game of chess altereth with each move ; 
 
 So that ever, Now, is the true labourer's motto, 
 
 And only market-idlers dream to make their watchword Then. 
 
 ¥ 
 
 OF GREAT AND SMALL. 
 
 Wondrous are thy works, O Lord ! and worthy of all praise ! 
 
 Marvellous in least as in the greatest, from the snowflake up to 
 the arch-angel : 
 
 ^Vorlds rolling in their orbits, and atoms floating on the air. 
 
 Equally proclaim omnipotence, and prove that omnipotence all- 
 wise. 
 
 There is wonderful comfort in the microscope, very monads being 
 cared for ; 
 
 Even though the telescope may scare us, as if poor monads were 
 forgotten : 
 
 For there is a fearfulness to creatures in such a far-off God, 
 
 Governing those globes by millions, infinitely distant and enor- 
 mous ; 
 
 As there is a joy to us in noting Him so nigh, so tender to tlie 
 meanest of His %\'orks, 
 
 Even the obscurest animalcules displaying a most exquisite per- 
 fection : 
 
 Well might we fear our insignificance, as totally unworthy of His 
 Greatness, 
 
 A7
 
 jfc, - 
 
 ^lynQr . II   II I.. I '   —   ' '" 
 
 y 406 OF GREAT AND SMALL. 
 
 But that we note His condescensions even to the emmet and llie 
 
 mite; 
 Yea, He rejoiceth in the least in the lowest and tlie humblest of 
 
 His creatures, 
 As much as in those glorious worlds where most His honour 
 
 dwelleth. 
 The drop from a pin's point dipped into stagnant water 
 And seen to be full of passionate life beneath thy powerful 
 
 glass, 
 This whirling microscopic country is it less a proof of His onmi- 
 
 potence 
 Than systems of huge globes careering through infinity? 
 God knoweth : nothing is so small but it hath its lesser and lower, 
 Even as nothing is so great but it hath its greater and higher : 
 Each is a perfection in its rank ; no fault nor loss nor blemish. 
 From the monad next to an invisible, to the mightiest world upon 
 
 the firmament. 
 
 The galaxies of suns, the heavens beyond tire heavens. 
 
 Infinity, Eternity, cannot contain Thy glory; 
 
 Yet is that glory in the spirit higher tlian that glory in the matter, 
 
 Since Thou didst humble Thyself down to live and die a man ! 
 
 Lo ! Thy grandest globes, Aldebaran, Alcyone, or Sirius, 
 
 Shine not with half the splendour of Thy human face. 
 
 Where love humility and truth show forth a nobler grandeur 
 
 Than all omnipotence hath built, omniscience could design. 
 
 So, our lenses for the small are even more eloquent of God, 
 
 Than where our vast reflectors reveal His greater wonders ; 
 
 In the minutest parasite, or fruitage of a moss 
 
 The IMaker is as wondrous as in planets suns and systems ; 
 
 And gnats upon the sunbeam dance in some tangled order. 
 
 Even as meteors, comets, worlds, and works and ways of 
 
 men. 
 From the mighty stars of heaven to the molecules of showers and 
 
 of dews, 
 Fronithe Mountains and Hills of earth to the smallest mosses on 
 
 them. 
 So is sung the song of the Three Children, walking in the furnace 
 
 with their Lord, 
 Tl>e praises of the God of all go up for ever and ever. 
 With every breath and every pulse, at every inch and instant,
 
 k— ' ^ 
 
 ^ Of GREAT AND SMALL. 407 
 
 Ijy every word and every ihouglit, in Him we live and move : 
 Down to the infinite of smallness, as up to tlie infinite of greatness, 
 Almighty, Ever-present, He worketh all in all ! 
 
 Who knowelh as to other worlds, where corruption may have 
 
 entered with creation, 
 (Because the making an inferior argueth some necessary failing,) 
 Who knoweth, how far in analogy with all we see of earth. 
 The Maker may in each have raised Mis creature to Himself, 
 Alike by adoption of its nature, alike by standing for its substitute, 
 Alike with ours by nobly taking on Himself its sin? 
 Man noteth only his own world, considering alone his own con- 
 ditions, 
 Fancying that for none but him God renovated matter ; 
 Ijut haply, everywhere as here, in planets round the polestar as in 
 
 ours, 
 A special incarnation of the Maker may bless each fallen world. 
 He is the Universal Friend, the Saviour as Creator and Treservcr, 
 The Lamb self-sacrificed in grace to stop the claims of justice. 
 The link to join in one the creature with its God, 
 The true resurrection out of matter, the very Life of spirit. 
 By whatsoever name adored, and in whatever shape, 
 Here the God-man Jesus, there the same Divinity transformed, 
 Well may He rejoice to have been found in fashion with those 
 
 beings of his hand. 
 Redeemer of all dwellers in the starry orbs above us! 
 
 How nice, how narrow is the difference of shibboleth or sibboleth 
 
 in schisms, 
 How oft a mere iota set betwixt the truth and error: 
 There need no mighty winds, the slightest breath sufficeth ; 
 Give or take away one grain, the polar tilt is changed : 
 An aspirate, an accent, or a whisper, may be much; 
 So like may mate with unlike, by a little cunning care. 
 The chemist, by one atom's worth from nature's just proportions, 
 Can alter death to life, and gather health in poisons. 
 Can win rare flavour from decay, sweet odour out of stenches, 
 The brightest rainbow-colours from a sorry smear of tar. 
 And seem to make new creatures by a miracle of mingling. 
 Also, in curing like with like, how small a dose will do it, 
 The aura of an essence, or its thousandth of a dron •
 
 ^ 
 
 408 OF SELFISHNESS. 
 
 And, pleasures can be fevered till they wake ine nerve of pain 
 By adding or subtracting a mere fancy or affection ; 
 And pain,— as martyrdom hath told, is exquisite in rapture 
 Through love and faith, and hope, that can have neither weight 
 
 nor measure. 
 Note then ; tire Master-Alchemist, by some small subtlest drop 
 Ever can evoke the good from out whatever evil : 
 Therefore, pray to Him, and trust Ilim ; He can cure it all ; 
 However great thy grief. His lightest touch will heal it: 
 Look, how the host of the Assyrians were dead men in one night, 
 How famishing Jerusalem rejoiced in sudden plenty. 
 How true the daily parable of dawn at coldest dark, 
 How sure the fact that sunshine is above thy blackest cloud. 
 So, walk right on in simple faith, obedient even in the smallest, 
 Obeying to a trifle all thy duties in their turn, 
 Laying its own light burden only on each passing moment, 
 And sweetening life's great draughts of evil by small drops of good. 
 
 The world is governed as the family, a nation as an individual ; 
 
 Do wisely, and ye prosper ; do foolishly, and penalty shall follow : 
 
 And well is ever wisely, and wickedness is foolishness ; 
 
 In great things as in small are His commandments had in honour. 
 
 The heathen fell into the pit they privily dug for others. 
 
 And so our Havelock triumphed over treacherous Hindostan; 
 
 An idle people starveth, a luxurious nation dwindleth, 
 
 Poland, Ireland, Turkey, Spain, ye gather your deserts; 
 
 Ambition winneth judgment, and tyranny retribution. 
 
 Will not Prussia, Austria, France, receive their wages earned ? 
 
 The slave shall bruise his heel on his oppressor's head, — 
 
 Alas for thee, Columbia, and thy desolated regions ! 
 
 Yox Moral Laws inexorably must reward or punish. 
 
 And Justice, equal Justice, shall be dealt to great and small. 
 
 4" 
 
 OF SELFISHNESS. 
 
 It is written, Self-forgetlulness is duty, self-sacrifice the highest 
 
 praise ; 
 And yet, a man's own self! what should he barter for his soul? 
 It is written. Self-abasement is high wisdom, self-loathing the true 
 
 sequel to self-searching ;
 
 f- 
 
 OF SELFISHNESS. 409 
 
 Yet, who shall spurn good conscience, who casteth scorn on self- 
 respect? 
 It is written, pull out the right eye ; it is written, cut off the right 
 
 hand ; 
 Yet, must we guard with duteous care the blessings God hath 
 
 given. 
 Wise it were to join the twain, reconciling this word with that, 
 And well to note how man's two natures need the double lesson. 
 Doubtless, each is to himself his own most precious world, 
 Infinite for interest and value, when Time is once expanded to 
 
 Eternity ; 
 But his orbit is a ring of duties, which here if well fulfilled 
 By making others happy, addeth happiness to himself: 
 Again ; with God humility, with man an equal's bearing, 
 These comport with conscience, and its outer symbol conduct : 
 Again ; the strong divulsion, in some wrestling-match with passion, 
 Is other than a gentler force, when passions are at rest. 
 
 \Ve are atomies upon a little globe, itself a point on space, 
 
 A spangle to those circling suns that gird the throne of God ; 
 
 Yet intellect hath swelled our minds to comprehend these heavens. 
 
 And sharpened them to search the smallest secrets of this earth : 
 
 And man is like a God for his sublimity of spirit 
 
 Which nothing can make happy but the largest liberal love ; 
 
 There never was contentment in a mean and sordid aim, 
 
 And selfish pleasure as an end is always disappointment. 
 
 The choicest individual bliss is universal heaven, 
 
 The truest interest of each the happiness of all. 
 
 And for any isolated self, where conscience is at ease, 
 
 (However humbled to the dust beneath the seatch of heaven) 
 
 How blessed in unselfishness, how genial and how pure 
 
 He walketh in a blissful maze of charitable musing. 
 
 In silent meditation feeding secretly apart, 
 
 His independent spirit is a worker still for others : 
 
 Happy doth he lie upon his bed, the day's long trial over, 
 
 Lullabyed as still a babe upon his Father's arm ; 
 
 Happy shall he wake at midnight, full of prayers and praises ; 
 
 Happy in his early rising, strong and high in hope ; 
 
 Happy in daily duty, though some troubles still may cross him ; 
 
 Happy, whatsoever be his lot, as labouring in God's vineyard. 
 
 T
 
 4 1 o OF SELFISHNESS. 
 
 Yea ; for his own spirit is his friend, a witness with high licavcn 
 That he halli ever wrought his l)est, mastering the tasks assigned 
 
 him ; 
 And that his best is well-accepted ; and there are no ill memories 
 To gnaw his secret solitude with keen and cruel teeth ; 
 But evermore deep comforts are enwrapt in true remembrance 
 Of all things just and well achieved, pure and of good report. 
 
 And who shall guage the wretchedness of one at war with 
 
 Heaven, 
 At enmity with conscience, that unsensual self? 
 He cannot bear the loneliness, he dare not tempt the darkness. 
 He loveth not his pillow for the swarming terrors there ; 
 Flung down to sleep without a prayer, a wearied heathen hound. 
 His dreams are full of fears, and detected guilt and vengeance ; 
 And when he wakeneth with a start, all unrefreshed and fevei"ed, 
 It is to pangs of memory and impenitent remorse : 
 O how steeped in many woes is self-accusing conscience, 
 O how wise is he whose Self is made his bosom friend ! 
 
 Thei'e is one cui'e, and only one, for selfishness in creatures, 
 
 The wondrous liberality poured forth by their Creator : 
 
 Nothing lower, nothing less, can silence human reason 
 
 From clamouring for self-interest, except the love of God. 
 
 Consider : we, His workmanship, His subjects, and His sons 
 
 Utterly had I'cbelled against our Father and Preserver ; 
 
 We would not see Him with our eyes, nor hear Him with our 
 
 ears, 
 Our very hearts and minds abjured His pure and loving Presence ; 
 Our lives, at best forgetful, often wilfully transgressed ; 
 Our spirits, spurning all things good, were leagued with all things 
 
 evil : 
 Ruin here, and worse hereafter, we had wrought and earned, 
 And Mercy knew no power to stay the lifted sword of Justice ; 
 Then, the Judge Himself resolved to be the victim, 
 To stand convicted of all sin, a culprit undefiled, 
 To satisfy strict Justice whilst He glorified strong Mercy 
 By bearing all the penalties of all the sins of men ! 
 Seeing then, selfish mortal, —He hath lifted thee to Godhead, 
 Canst thou still nurse small worldlinesses as a ransomed saint ? 
 Only believe the record, and accept that mighty gift ;
 
 OF SLANDER. 4" 
 
 Stand as a redeemed of the Lord, survey thy glorious heritage, 
 And then consider self and all its puny baseness, 
 Contrasted with the large and high unselfishness of Christ ; 
 So, all that thou shall covet, will be glory for thy God, 
 And all thy love shall yearn on Him, M'ho died because He loved 
 thee. 
 
 
 V 
 
 OF SLANDER. 
 
 Lie on, thou false accuser ! and wreak thy paltry spite ; | 
 
 A little space, a little while, enjoy this petty triumph ; I 
 
 Let envy, with white face, and those brown malignant eyes, | 
 And feverish malice, and dull hate, strive all their feeble strongest ; 
 
 Let ridicule and scorn and stolid censure undeserved > 
 
 Add what they will of smoke and stench, malaria and miasma, j 
 The sun of genius still shall blaze the brighter from those clouds, 
 The good and great man's honest fame shall chase away these 
 
 shadows, i 
 
 The mountain of his greatness looming grander in the mist, j 
 
 The jewel of his goodness shining brighter out of darkness. | 
 
 Hast thou borne thee bravely, and good-humouredly withal? ' 
 
 Hast thou smiled at sneer and gibe, nor answered them in malice? 
 Hast thou waited patiently, nor forced one selfish plea, j 
 
 Nor heeded mere neglect, nor cared for false reproaches? j 
 
 Hast thou well deserved, at peace with God and conscience? ! 
 
 Hast thou taught thy neighbour, and not hindered him \\\\\\ 
 
 lies? — 
 Lo ! in spite of all their taunts who daily wrest thy words, 
 And shoot out arrows to thy hurt, unscrupulously in secret. 
 Thy full triumph yet shall come, and is not now far off; 
 Those who spurned thee shall be fain to fawn and kiss thy feet ; 
 Patience with deserving ever winneth due reward. 
 And these thine enemies ere long will hem thee round \\ith 
 
 homage. 
 
 Slander hath its uses ; there is ever good reaction ; 
 
 Wait awhile, — those noisy foes shall wake these slumbering 
 
 friends : 
 Never man was praised, but that praise provoked a censure ; 
 
 - 0*
 
 '% 
 
 ^a 
 
 
 412 OF SLANDER. 
 
 Never man was censured, some one standetli forili to praise : 
 The surest proof of small deservings is to live forgotten ; 
 Neglect is argument of death, as slander that thou livest. 
 Also, heie be hints for thy humility; are such taunts all false? 
 Hast thou given no small cause for this they charge against thee? 
 Look more rigidly within ; judge thyself more sternly; 
 If the adder's fang hath stung thee, cure with adder's fat : 
 So mayst thou change thy slanderous foe to act thy veriest friend. 
 Whose malice, though mere venom, shall be medicine to thy 
 health. 
 
 P'ace it out and live it down, whatever be the slander, 
 
 And walk on in wise quietness, as utterly unconscious : 
 
 The spoken lie shall soon die out ; nor liveth long though 
 
 written, — 
 And better thus as more defined than loosely uttered rumours ; 
 While for those clamorous prints, ephemeral, disregarded. 
 Where scribblers puff each other up, and push all other down. 
 The small conspirators M'ho dream they guide the public mind, 
 Anonymously reviling and slanderers in the dark, 
 Take thou their censures for thy praise, and strong in well- 
 deserving 
 Stand, Psalmist-like, their cheerful target, and the song of the 
 drunkards ! 
 
 Our laws are cropped with hardships, and it is both shame and sin 
 
 That truth is counted criminal, if anyhow a damage. 
 
 We dare not, at our peril, caution neighbours of a rogue, — 
 
 The keen attorney is his mate, and libel-acts befriend them ; 
 
 Woe to us if we give their truer character to servants — 
 
 All virtues may be blazoned, but we must not hint at vice ! 
 
 Yet on the counter tack is seen this evil under the sun, 
 
 Where authorship hath damage through false witness without 
 
 remedy : 
 Personal spite may print unblamed what bitterness it willeth. 
 And coward Teucer shoot his barbed malice from his lair, 
 While, helplessly protesting, the victims of such licence 
 Are only further blamed as foes to freedom of the press ! 
 
 But the most crabbed fruit of law, the bitterest wrong of all. 
 Is punishing the husband for slander from his wife :
 
 OF SLANDER. 413 
 
 Haply that sharp tongue hath been liis hfe-long torment, 
 
 And ofttimes on his innocence its jealousy hath burst ; 
 
 This he Ijeareth long-forbearing, till lliat forked sting 
 
 Hath liissed away with viper spite some fair maid's honest 
 
 name ; 
 And then forsooth our laws, indignantly appealed-to, 
 "With most Quixotic chivalry excuse that wicked wife, 
 And fine or prison her poor good-man, whose honest name as well 
 This helpmate hath been slandering too, along with that fan- 
 
 neighbour's ! 
 He is the sponsor, he tne surety, he must smart for all ; 
 His moral innocence is nothing to his legal guilt : 
 She is his slave forsooth, his wife, — so most obedient, — 
 He hath constrained her helplessness, and forced those venomous 
 
 words. 
 That monkish rule of marriage had its reason in old time 
 When husbands held the power as of patriarchs in their house- 
 holds ; 
 Eut now is Ahasuerus well reproved by Prince Memucan, 
 Our Persian ladies show this day too much contempt and wrath; 
 For that, both laws and customs changed have made their hus- 
 bands nought, —   
 Society will scorn the man who ruleth by stern headship ; 
 So now our scolds and gossips have the mastery of their masters. 
 And woman's little fiery tongue kindleth her good-man's fagot: 
 Verily, the Warwick ducking-stool were justice to such law. 
 The Walton bridle for a slanderer, wisdom to such folly. 
 
 A famous man is often quoted, though he hath not spoken. 
 And many alter to their creeds the word he truly uttered : 
 His last opinion, not yet formed, is freely liked or loathed, 
 And so he walketh in a mist of false reports and slanders. 
 Again, where innocence is charged, obscurely and in whispers, 
 And dareth not, or deigneth not, to make distinct reply, 
 Who can guage his martyrdom, the torture to high honour. 
 That scorneth still to stop or stoop to answer villanous tongues? 
 And it is an added aggravation, if others are unworthily accused, 
 As pure and honest as thyself, whom yet defence might injure; 
 Thou maysl watch and wait and pray, and strive to live all 
 
 down, 
 \'et for months, or wearier years, that cross will gall thy shoulder.
 
 F: 
 
 414 OF SLANDER. 
 
 Historians have much sinned througli slander, keenly now found 
 
 out, 
 As good or ill report seem due to politics and polemics. 
 The private foe would ofltimes dip his partisan pen in gall, 
 While parasites have glorified the basest of mankind ; 
 Therefore now men doubt, and are not answered by the book. 
 But argue probabilities, to overturn old verdicts. 
 Would John have stood for tyrant, had he not out-braved Ihe 
 
 Pope? 
 Would Richard go forth humped and cruel, had he salved his 
 
 nobles? 
 IJluff Hal, as Papist, still had seemed the patriot king with 
 
 scruples, 
 And Cromwell noways hypocrite, were Rome upon his side : 
 King James of Scotland, shown so vile, was it for Carr and 
 
 Villiers, 
 Or for his English Bible, that the Protestant was scorned? 
 So now Tiberius hath his praise, a justice long a-coming. 
 For Tacitus and his oligarchs abhorred that old ascetic ; 
 And who can guess of other Ccesars where the truth may lie? 
 Caligula and Nero were emperors, if not tyrants: 
 And even Judas for his faith hath found a reverend champion ; 
 Mirabeau, Danton, Robespierre, are circled by admirers: 
 While Constantine and Charlemagne and Titus and the Georges 
 Are stripped of every shred of honour in these searching days ! 
 
 So too with literary fames, who is there that escapeth? 
 What are honesty and honour to our carping scribes? 
 Shakspeare was but a plagiary of Bacon or Southampton, 
 And Bunyan found his Pilgrim in a tract at Bedford jail, 
 And ^sop filched from Babrius, and Livy forged his Annals, 
 And Homer no more sang of Troy than Ossian sung of Fingal, 
 Great Newton and good Pascal defrauded each the other, 
 Meek Moses writ not Genesis, nor John the Revelation! 
 Vv'hilst as for Christian ethics, they are stolen from the Talmud, 
 And Christ's own Sermon on the Mount is homilized from 
 
 llillel,— 
 And so the best of every age are every way traduced, 
 That scoffers— prophesied of old— may stun the \vorld with 
 
 slanders ! 
 
 ^
 
 OF REAL AND IDEAL. 415 
 
 OF REAL AND IDEAL. 
 It often liath been seen and said, Stranger is truth than fiction ; 
 But one may furtlier note, it also seemeth more nnreal : 
 We walii as in a dream ; the blow that smote us stunned us, 
 Sleep-awake, like Livingstone, bemuffled by the lion. 
 Our whirlpool in its central spot is smooth and oily calmness ; 
 Some potent ether-drop hath numbed all conscious pangs of 
 
 pain : 
 A terror, dreaded far away, before us is less terrible, 
 The fearsome foe becoming soon a harsher sort of friend ; 
 And blessings long-desired show but wilted in the hand ; 
 How few have found in wealth or rank or marriage all they 
 
 fancied ! 
 That which is, the real the true, hath lighter hold ujion us 
 Than that which is ideal only mixt of hope and fear : 
 Even the convict criminal, be his penalty not death, 
 Is easier for the sentence passed, that looking-forward over. 
 
 Wrought-up scenes in story books are ever false herein, 
 
 That small allowance there is made for influences around us : 
 
 Each hour is filled with tritles that converge to greater ends. 
 
 The phases of a spirit are much governed by its body, 
 
 Food and sleep and friends and news, habits and occupations 
 
 Lightening the load of trouble, that was judged so hard to bear ; 
 
 The vitriol is diluted by those trickling rills of water, 
 
 And petty dull realities becloud each keen ideal. 
 
 Many a visitation, looked for fearfully as coming. 
 
 Was truly more a grief in absence, than it is in presence ; 
 
 Bravely bome, as wisely sent, and with so much to mend it, 
 
 The threatening evil, standing here, is hailed some sterner good : 
 
 And what fictitious fancy painted terribly to fright us. 
 
 When neared was but a peasant, not a goblin nor a thief. 
 
 For, we be double creatures ; and our spiritual half 
 
 Is quick with busy feelings, which dull matter little heedeth : 
 
 To cut the living flesh is scarce so painful as its fear ; 
 
 And even Spanish monks tormented bodies less than souls : 
 
 The poignant dread that watcheth for calamity to come, 
 
 (As martyrs exquisitely have felt before their actual torture,} 
 
 Is often more a curse than that calamity itself;
 
 ^ 
 
 4- 
 
 416 OF REAL AND IDEAL. 
 
 For feverish tliouglit will liace its feitures, hideous and un- 
 shadowed, 
 Forgetful of each gentler touch to tone their outlines down ; 
 Takmg no count of little aids, the fairy forms of life, 
 That fill its hills and valleys with their ministering beauty, 
 The sympathies of friendship, the assuaging power of use, 
 The many comforts left, and interests, prayers, and consolations. 
 This body is a garment folded on our naked spirit, 
 Lullmg it to wholesome sleep by dense and genial warmth ; 
 This body is a soothing shade to rest its aching eyesight, 
 A cloud to screen that withered garden from the tropic sun ; 
 So the real hath uses countervailmg the ideal, 
 Our grosser matter calming the intensities of spirit. 
 
 We are fallen upon times of trouble, such as never have been since 
 
 there was a nation, 
 Perilous evil days, and shocked by social earthquakes ; 
 Every family apart, tlie world is full of mourning, 
 Sonow and tribulation are sad inmates of each household : 
 Broken fortunes death disease, disgraces degradations. 
 Famines floods and pestilences, wars and rumours of wars. 
 Credits blown into the air, and commerce idle in the market- 
 place, — 
 Everywhere in every way, the world is sore distrest. 
 Yet herein is some comfort, some balm for thy calamity, 
 Some spikenard of ideal to allay too real a pang ; 
 That these thy griefs are not alone, but many share them with 
 
 thee ; 
 There is a serried line of neighbours fighting and falling too ; 
 And lo, how many in worse case, — how few with thy consolings, — 
 Look round, and count the loss of others, reckoning thine own 
 
 gains ; 
 A skeleton is in every house, a Banquo at each banquet. 
 And few there be of yon cloaked crowd, but walk with flaming 
 
 hearts. 
 So, gregarious man, as Rochefoucault hath spoken, 
 Shall the better bear his pain, if others suffer with him : 
 The torrent that hath swept away thrones dominations powers, 
 And ravaged fames and fortunes, maketh equal high and low ; 
 So thou art well-companioned, in the fashion of the times. 
 And where the mountains fall at least the valleys are less huml)led.
 
 !^ 
 
 J§L 
 
 OF REAL AND IDEAL. 417 V 
 
 Herein too is more comfort ; that misfortunes wlien tliey come 
 Are ever found more light to bear than expectation dreaded : 
 Fancy tied those scorpions to the whips of Rehoboam ; 
 And where idea shall sharp the goads, reality will blunt them : 
 The merchant shook witli secret fears of being found a bankrupt, 
 But standetli strong and speaketh fair, when all the worst is 
 
 known : 
 This patient woman, crippled now, for years and years bedridden. 
 Could never guess how cheerfully such sadness would be borne. 
 Before her skittish pony shying threw the merry child, 
 And christian resignation had poured peace on the afflicted : 
 The wicked wife, or prodigal son, in prospect may look hideous, 
 (To earlier days of wedlock or of fatherhood unbearable,) 
 But there be mitigations, if thy soul is well with God ; 
 He can help, and He can change these curses into blessings ; 
 And thou art weaned from wickedness, and hast small part \\\ 
 
 folly. 
 And roamest in thy spirit higher spheres of peace and love. 
 And only guilt may paralyse an independent mind. 
 And storms that rend the mountains cannot break a Christian- 
 spirit. 
 
 Herein too is chief comfort ; that in Heaven's all-guiding pro- 
 vidence 
 
 Help is proportioned to the toil, and grace in accordance with the 
 trial : 
 
 So, given energy and faith, a vigorous happiness ensueth 
 
 Equal to face and wrestle down whatever daring foe. 
 
 If the wind be not tempered to the skin (this were a foolish 
 fancy) 
 
 The shorn lamlo may have inward warmth to answer for its fleece. 
 
 Nerves are blunted, hearts are hardened, minds are girded-up, 
 
 An inner spring is added to sustain the weight without. 
 
 And in the middle of ill conflict, there is the grand ideal 
 
 The mighty thought, Eternity, Eternity of bliss ! 
 
 What are these few fierce years, or haply days, or hours, 
 
 To the great heir whose heritage is Peaceful Immortality? 
 
 The real is thus disrealized, — so thoughtful Berkeley douljted. 
 
 And faith made as the substance, that ideal fact of Paul : 
 
 Temporal seemeth but a shadow, though rough real and tangible, 
 
 Eternal sheweth as a solid, though spiritual and ideal 
 
 2 D 

 
 ^1^   — — 
 
 ^;> 418 OF HABIT. 
 
 Load not thuu the present with tliose burdens of the past 
 Ancient sins, abandoned hopes, and numerous lost occasions : 
 Heaven's word, — Sufficient for tlie day, — is still affliction's motto ; 
 We are not forced to fight M'ith all our enemies at once. 
 Repent and mend, in prayerful trust ; but nourish no regrets ; 
 That which might have been and was not, never need to vex thee : 
 Many groan for might-have-beens, considering but the better. 
 But worse were quite as possible ; so, take this bad for best : 
 Many feebly wish and dream and paint ideals fondly. 
 Who, though it stood before them, would not recognize the real. 
 
 •^ 
 
 OF HABIT. 
 
 Levelling even in thehigher,atthe lowerstill degradingevermore, 
 
 An evil thing for spirit is the force of utter habit. 
 
 Although, for skill in crafts, for work of brain or body, 
 
 Habit hath material use, to gain some humbler end. 
 
 Yet, at the altar of the soul, in genius, love, religion, 
 
 Habit wearieth, habit dulleth, habit hindereth always. 
 
 For this hath deadened piety, this hath damped affection, 
 
 This hath dimmed the fire from heaven down to kindled candles : 
 
 Many times religious forms, perfunctorily repeated 
 
 Have heavily quenched, as with wet sand, the flaming heart of 
 
 zeal ; 
 Many times young love is killed by coarse and common marriage, 
 And nobler-lifting thoughts dragged low, through custom's length- 
 ening chain ; 
 Yea, through his profession as a priest, the convert's fire is extin- 
 guished. 
 Even as the fervours of a bride are forgotten in the coldness of a 
 matron. 
 
 Nevertheless, for ordinary life, this trivial round of duties, 
 Habit is commonly a helper, as rest amid the wrestling : 
 If it file the edge of pleasure, it may dull the sharpness of pain ; 
 If it drag the wheels of genius, it may smooth the road for talent ; 
 If, an antagonist of freedom, that would mount with wings, 
 It buckleth harness on the soul, a traveller on the highway. 
 Still can habit be an impetus, for good as well as evil, 
 Lontinuously made easier to ring adown thy groove :
 
 OF ECONOMY. 419 
 
 And if that groove be righteousness, herein is some advantage, 
 Wherever habit of itself is not alone tlie spring ; 
 But, if there is a frequency of sinning, tlie conscience groweth 
 harder. 
 
 And habit is an utter evil, with its gain but loss. 
 
 In fme ; the letter killeth ; let the formalist slave on, 
 His acted repetitions do but make him a machine ; 
 But, the spirit quickeneth ; and if life with love be there, 
 That potent heat shall overcome the harm and chill of habit. 
 
 OF ECONOMY. 
 
 Thrift for the poor, but profusion for the rich ; tliis were equal 
 
 wisdom ; 
 Since what is prudence In the one, were little else than meanness 
 
 in the other. 
 There is an economy that sinneth, never dropping largesse kindly, 
 As there is an erring prodigality, pandering to luxury and sloth : 
 Boaz, well and wisely, bade his reapers scatter handfuls 
 That Ruth, with happier thankfulness, might glean her liberal 
 
 leasing ; 
 And nations, spending millions on a war, hath grudged the 
 
 soldier's medal, 
 With sordid soul to save on that the fraction of a tax. 
 Wealth should well be wary of extravagance, the dry-rot in its 
 
 rafters, 
 And poverty may stint and scrape, as need discreetly bade ; 
 But that which is the virtue of a Lazarus showeth in the Dives as 
 
 a vice ; 
 This close and saving spirit is a sin of many \\'ealthy. 
 
 God giveth all those talents that his steward may duteously use 
 
 them. 
 May put them out at interest, not hide them in a napkin : 
 And for a rich man to be frugal is to prove unfaithful to his trust. 
 While for the poor man to be prodigal is presumptuous as sinning 
 
 against prudence. 
 So, in the government of Kingdoms, it is right to take large views, 
 Nothing illiberal, nothing mean, but wide and generous bounty ; 
 
 ^ —^
 
 420 OF IND USTR V AND IDLENESS. 
 
 The waste that overfloweth here, elsewhere shall spread fertility, 
 And not one seed is lost, though scattered freely broad-cast ; 
 Even the trampers on the road, even the sparrows of the house-tops. 
 Well rejoice to pick up crumbs that fall from plenty's table : 
 But now, some grind the poor, for selfish place and power. 
 And wring from honest craftsmen what they spend upon them- 
 selves : 
 And savings, that are meanly scraped from wages of the workmen, 
 Cry shame against the nation in a parsimonious age. 
 
 OF INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. 
 
 Many are the forms of industry, than which the merest idleness 
 
 were better ; 
 By weary pains to win a loss is worse than losing gain : 
 Often have I known the student diligently read into the sceptic, 
 While he that left his learned books remained a plain believer ; 
 Often have I seen simplicity hold slowly on his way, 
 When wreck and misadventure imperilled quicker cunning. 
 Lo, the misspent energies of man, — his toil for ill got wealth. 
 His labour still by day and night to reap and garner tares. 
 His folly in amassing rubbish by great pains and cost, 
 His sin in striving for success to many an evil aim. 
 His wastefulness of strength and means to compass wretched 
 
 ends. 
 His woefulness as servant to that hard taskmaster, Satan. 
 
 How many, better in their graves, work hard for wrong and harm. 
 With misdirected energies and ill-applied exertion ; 
 How oft the robe of Nessus hath been woven with much pains. 
 And how much wiser than such toil were simple sloth anil 
 
 slumber. 
 O the multitude of labourers who weary out their lives in vanity, 
 The thousands of hardworkers who had better far do nothing. 
 The Danaides innumerable pumping water into sieves, 
 The crowds of Sisyphi that push those boulders up the mountains ! 
 Youth and sillier age alike agree with foolish diligence 
 In twisting ropes of sand or building palaces of ice ; 
 Often the hardest toil is expended on most profitless absurdity, 
 Where any chance suspension might be noted so much gain :
 
 vf» 
 
 OF INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS. 421 
 
 Many a liook had best have been iinwrilten, many a tower never 
 
 built, 
 Many a perilous achievement or lifelong work unwrought : 
 This man useth up his time, his means his mind his credit, 
 In some quixotic scheme, the panacea for all ill,— 
 As reckoning everything by tens for universal commerce. 
 Or one true catholic measure discovered in the Pyramid, 
 Or a perpetual motion, whereby through reaction we may fly. 
 Or plain uniformity of worship, as if all could think alike ; 
 Or pasturing only upon vegetals, or drinking nought fermented. 
 Or labouring to convince mankind of any simple folly ; 
 All vanities, as all in their extremes ; catholic schemes are futile ; 
 Minds vary, customs change, and unity is ever the impossible. 
 
 Why wear out one's heartstrings in epics that nobody would read? 
 
 Wherefore tourney with the pen in lists of polemical contention? 
 
 What were the value of exertion to gain such evil issues 
 
 As undei'mining history, till facts appear but fables? 
 
 Or scheming to accomplish some selfish sinful pleasure? 
 
 Or through some silly patent urging ruin on kind friends? 
 
 Or killing time by inches, in smallest vanities and follies? 
 
 Or sowing otherwise the wind, to reap with pain the whirlwind? — 
 
 Alas for the nothingness of toil, with worse than like nothingness 
 
 for wages, — 
 The busy lives of most men are but such redoubled trouble. 
 Did then those monks of olden days show reason for their sloth, 
 In that they simply kept unlost their napkin-hidden talent? 
 
 And yet, what shall we say? Is it not a duty, a religion, 
 
 Still to energize and do, though doing be not much? 
 
 It is given unto few men to achieve, it is lent to none to perfect 
 
 A labour worthy of their lives, mdustrious 10 the end ; 
 
 They toil to leave halfdone, and welldones might be better. 
 
 And slender satisfaction can all diligence attain ; 
 
 Yet it was wiser to attempt, though only failure followed, 
 
 To well deserve is somewhat, in spite of ill success; 
 
 And there is an energetic health ni diligence and action, 
 
 An impulse ever spurring on the soul to dare and do : 
 
 To work is Spirit's nature, and it never can be idle; 
 
 To be, and being not to act, were matter void of mind : 
 
 And motives are to man his praise, not rather their results, 
 
 y^ 
 
 -^r
 
 ■^ 
 
 422 OF INDUSTR V AND IDLENESS. 
 
 Our wisdom and our duty is to work and not to faint. 
 
 What if thine aim be not achieved? the chemist (take his instance) 
 
 By failing in experiment is so far toward success; 
 
 Through manifold negations the affirmative is reached, 
 
 Try and fail, then try and fail, try three times and succeed. 
 
 For ending : any industry is better than mere sloth. 
 
 So it be not industry for evil, some active positive sin ; 
 
 For idle weeds of wickedness are natural to the heart, 
 
 And if that garden be untilled, it shall be choked with tares. 
 
 Industry in anywise is life, and idleness more near of kin to 
 
 Death,— 
 Better the cloud of gnats, tlian cold and still corruption; 
 Energy of every kind is sympathy with spirit, 
 And hath congenial uses in the very spring of work : 
 So there be not mischief in tliy toil, thou gainest, as a conquerot 
 
 of sloth, 
 It is a very waste of life to be and not to do. 
 Where is the use? — a deadening question ever put by Mammon, 
 Hath for answer, means have uses though their end be vain ; 
 Even the castle of snow may give hints for the castle of stone, 
 Even the rope of sand may test ingenious patience. 
 The simple exercise of mind, aptness gained by practice, 
 Diligence hope and perseverance, — these be somewhat gained. 
 Labour hath sweet uses, labour sanctifieth all things, 
 Adding brightness, flavour, beauty, even to the humblest. 
 The carving of a cherrystone, the weaving of a cobweb 
 Instead of misspent pains may stand a miracle of art. 
 Idleness ever hath its peril, in stagnation and corruption ; 
 The short cut seemed the wisest, until shown to lead astray : 
 Quick gains are lightly spent, the gambler's luck will turn, 
 While steady industry alone endureth and is strong : 
 Theft may seem at first to gain more easily than labour, 
 But look to the end, — what wealth is left to the convicted thief? 
 The many pains, the long way round, the much industrious effort, 
 Here is faith and patience, and the due reward of wisdom : 
 Not all seen at once, for faith may oft work blindly, 
 Nor with too quick reward, for patience must be perfect. 
 But as a far-off blessing attained by healthful industry. 
 If only as it vanquisheth by energy the slow disease of idleness. 
 
 -^
 
 OF REPRESENTATION. 423 
 
 OF REPRESENTATION. 
 A KREE Slate gathered in tlie C'ciuncil should speak by all its 
 
 citizens, 
 ]'2ach one clauiihiij; as of birthright a voice to aid his country : 
 None should be excluded from the privilege, if grown to man's 
 
 estate, 
 Unless he fail of intellect, or lose his right through crime: 
 Some may more help the State, through monied merchandize or 
 
 learning, 
 Wherein the wealthier and wiser should speak ^^•ith several votes: 
 Riches, evidencing diligence, skill goodluck acuteness, 
 Wisdom, proving education, knowledge, mental light, 
 ]\Ierit of any public sort, as exploit, or selfsacrifice, 
 Office, rank, or great estate, all these were added voices : 
 So should the lowest not be equalized, unjustly, with the worthier 
 
 and higher, 
 But only stand for one, while those would rate for more : 
 To the single talent a single vote, the ten to speak with ten, 
 Each recorded plainly on a tablet signed and witnessed ; 
 With heavy fines for falsehood, and special care for truth, 
 And justice done to all, while no man is excluded. 
 Thus the cry for equity is satisfied in each, 
 For every freeman of the State may rightly claim to help it; 
 And the like equity is saved for those, the fewer out of many. 
 Who better serve their country by riches and acquirements. 
 
 Individual merit wouia qualify most rightly; 
 
 A merit broadly proved in men by some success in life : 
 
 And ancestors who won their way should shine in their de- 
 scendants. 
 
 Though haply sometimes shamed in their degenerated sons ; 
 
 Rut merit, worth a nation's thanks, must wait as gross demerit, 
 
 Before a man be mulcted of his ancestors' desert : 
 
 Here is our custom for honours and estates, and law of the first- 
 born, 
 
 Indulgent to great names, but scarcely built on justice; 
 
 Yet, for stability we hold it, that change be not too swift, 
 
 For living merit, as with life, may perish in one hour. 
 
 And the like equity contendeth equally for women as for men. 

 
 4 
 
 
 424 OF REPRESENTA TION. 
 
 /■ 
 
 Short of nonage, inarriage, crime, or lack of mental fitness: 
 
 Married, the woman, in her husband, speaheth by his voice ; 
 
 Eut single, as a citizen, her rights can ill be questioned ; 
 
 The wealthy heiress should not stand beneath her humblest tenant. 
 
 Made incapacitate through sex from patriotic aims ; 
 
 Yet neither should the mother and tlie wife, immersed in nursery 
 
 cares. 
 Forsake her private life of home for public strife abroad. 
 
 These my thouglUs grew long of old, nor A\ere they learnt from 
 
 others; 
 A quarter of a century agone I wrote as here is written. 
 Advocating rights, to each and all, to rich men as to poor men, 
 Rights to education, ns to manhood, unequal but still just, 
 Rights to woman, as to man, to every freeborn citizen, 
 Rights according to degrees, and capable of expansion, 
 So that the humble may win higher, earning more through merits, 
 To every freeman one, but more to more than freemen ; 
 Thus giving great achievement, by the pen or by the sword, 
 And wealth in land or gold, and educated wisdom, 
 And any social usefulness, and office, and commission, 
 And rank and worth of every kind their graduated voices. 
 This is the justice of the case, satisfying every claimant, 
 Valued according to his merits, free-citizenship as one : 
 This giveth righteously to each the equity he asketh, 
 The poor man is not mulcted, and the rich is not despoiled ; 
 The peasant to his country's weal may add one honest voice. 
 As bearing in his humbler way the public costs and charges ; 
 The magnate holding ten, according to his burdens. 
 And either way Uue justice done aldce to rich and poor. 
 
 So then a represented nation, to illustrate its best. 
 Should balance by the wiser few the undistinguished many : 
 Let number have its voice, the multitude of freemen, 
 But merits of a public sort have added voices too : 
 Let well- investing prudence speak, and honourable old age, 
 And learning and religion in tlieir orders and degrees, 
 And open exploit that of old had won the civic crown, 
 And wisdoms and discoveries, and well-secured successes : 
 Thus M'ould all the worthiest be rewarded by the State, 
 And fitly help its weal through their accumulative voices :
 
 OF LIFE'S WORK. 425 
 
 And so the force of numbers would not overweigh all else, 
 But equity in either scale should make the balance equal. 
 Teach the people wisely, and no need to fear the people, 
 Religion, science, letters, clear the head and cleanse the heart ; 
 The well-drilled army bringeth peace and order with its march, 
 Where a tumultuous rabble doth but ravage and destroy. 
 Woe to the State whose children are neglected and untaught, 
 The more if such barbarian serfs are lawgivers as freemen : 
 For her place among the nations must sink to lower and lower, 
 Humbled and broken down by her own rude ignorant children. 
 And happy is that people, — happy art thou, dear England, — 
 Where reason and religion are the nation's sun and moon. 
 Where learning shineth free and clear upon the open Bible, 
 And all thy children have been taught, and peace and praise are 
 thine. 
 
 — ¥*» 
 
 OF LIFE'S WORK. 
 
 Providence worketh by us all, though few be found to note it ; 
 
 Yea, by the wicked as the good, through failures and successes ; 
 
 Each of us, after his fixed quality, helpeth the great experiment 
 
 Which all of human race show forth to higher worlds ; 
 
 Each is as a morsel for mosaic, duly shaped and coloured. 
 
 To be set at his fit place in the pavement of Time's temple , 
 
 And patterns of all kinds are tesselated there 
 
 With every shade of difference in character and station, 
 
 Till Life, with its changeable kaleidoscope, continually turned by 
 
 circumstance, 
 Varieth human phases to the colours of Labrador spar. 
 This man is used for illustration, haply, of some blackest dye ; 
 That man showeth as a gem, of purest, whitest lustre ; 
 Here is a nation seen degraded, a dark, dread shadow on the floor, 
 And, in bright contrast there, a people's sunshine in full glory : 
 Nothing is lost, nothing is wasted, nothing is an ultimate mistake; 
 Wisdom, infinite and absolute, is the signature on all creation. 
 
 No man knoweth wherefore he was born, nor what the full inten 
 
 tion of his being : 
 Whether for humblest uses, or a vessel made to honour ;
 
 -^ 
 
 A;;. 
 
 426 OF LIFE'S WORK. 
 
 For self-conceit, or conscience evermore, suggested wondrous 
 capability, 
 
 Albeit sin and sloth in most reduce their powers to zero. 
 
 Perchance thou art needed for liigh witness, testifying some gi'and 
 truth ; 
 
 Perchance to serve a world by maxims of good statecraft ; 
 
 Perchance to ripen mintls by books, or gladden hearts through 
 music ; 
 
 To forward art and science, or to search out secret nature. 
 
 Or a man may breathe a living sacrifice, to cure some social wrong, 
 
 Protesting for the public safety as its innocent victim ; 
 
 Or, if of humbler lot, may bless his private sphere 
 
 Ey diligence in duty, by humility and faith. 
 
 By cheerfulness and thankfulness, and charities and prayers. 
 
 And teaching hope of better worlds— the peasant's princely heri- 
 tage ; 
 
 Or there is still another phase, wherein he shall do service, 
 
 If wilfully hearthardened, as the galley-slave of passions ; 
 
 lie then shall work the warnings, and the judgments, and the woes 
 
 That buoy upon Life's wreck-chart, its rocks, and shoals, and 
 eddies. 
 
 Duty is the surely-guiding clue, and destiny tlie goal fore-ordered, 
 And blindfold faith in Providence our simple rule for conduct. 
 Trust m God and do His will, lie still shall guide and bless thee ; 
 Work the work before thee with all fervour at thy best ; 
 For the little as the great delight in present duties : 
 Thy Maker formed with equal care a fern-seed and a star. 
 Be it high or be it humble, this thy task is set by Him ; 
 His glory and thy gain may be achieved though by a trifle; 
 His monads and His worlds alike are wonders of contrivance : 
 All triumphs of design, and looked into by the angels ; 
 And so thy least, as greater things, are tenderly ordained — 
 Tiiy very hairs are numbered, O thou of little faith ! 
 
 A work is wanted to be done, — and, lo ! the man to do it — 
 To do, or half to do, or fail : what matter ? each is ordered. 
 We praise the full achievement, but Heaven may praise its failure ; 
 We pity those who leave half done, where God may say. Well 
 
 done. 
 Servants may soon be called elsewhere, some better work to do
 
 OF LIFE'S WORK. 427 
 
 In other worlds and other states, with other names and natures ; 
 And here His artisans are taught, His working minds are moulded. 
 And when full ready for their change those souls are called away. 
 "All work is not alone for earth, thougli here we take our bents, 
 But elsewhere is there much to do, alike in good and evil ; 
 For the mystery of evil is allowed, curable somewhere, somehow. 
 And looking like necessity amongst imperfect creatures. 
 Here we commence, but beyond we carry on, and so for ever and 
 
 for ever, 
 Beginning that great race toward endless hell or heaven ; 
 But woe to tlie spirit of malignity that starteth wretchedly in sin, 
 And joy to the soul whose young career is well begun in goodness ! 
 
 I trow that tlie wicked doeth service, though utterly beside his will — 
 Evil working good, albeit that ill servant meaneth other; 
 And God most rejoiceth in His mercy if sinners turn to saints; 
 But if those hearts be stubborn. He can rejoice in judgment. 
 Gracious and patient with His creature. He still is terrible in holi- 
 ness, 
 And if free souls rebel, their treasons must be punished, 
 Even where such narrow treasons may have compassed wider weal. 
 Through which the Great King's realm may reach some higher 
 
 blessing. 
 Work thy life-work as thou wilt, He made thee not in vain ; 
 But woe to him whose work is sin, for penalty must follow : 
 And all may live in love, working the works of good. 
 For evermore His mercy rejoiceth over judgment. 
 
 Providence leadeth us, or driveth us, each to do some service 
 By golden threads or iron goads to guide us or to speed us ; 
 Each, though he boast of independence, is but as a trout upon the 
 
 hook, 
 And now is checked, and now drawn on, as the Great Fisher 
 
 willeth. 
 We may resist His touch, and that sharp steel shall strike us. 
 Or we may yield and be obedient, and never feel the barb : 
 How often in the story of a life, without our help or hindrance — 
 At this place all things fail, at that place all things prosper ! 
 And yet how seldom reasoning faith interpreteth the providence 
 Looking for its leadings and suggestions, as listening to heavenly 
 
 whispei"s ! 
 
 *if>
 
 
 
 428 OF LIFE'S WORK. 
 
 Go ye ill this way or in that : be not as the senseless cattle, 
 Nor kick, perversely obstinate, barefoot, against the pricks. 
 
 The work of life, the toil of life — it is never the rest of life ; 
 
 This is not our rest, nor any continuing city : 
 
 Life is a journey ; life a race ; life a weary pilgrimage ; 
 
 Life is a battle, tj-ial, work, and strife ; but never peace or rest. 
 
 They that liave attained life's ends, in wealth, or fame, or pleasure. 
 
 Never rest in all their gains, but yearningly press onward ; 
 
 More wealth, more fame, other sorts of pleasure — 
 
 Discontent is ever goading those unsated hearts ; 
 
 Wise for them, and happy, if such discontent urge upward, 
 
 But wretched for the worldling in his disappointed soul. 
 
 A few speeches, a few songs, sundry tomes, or paintings ; 
 Some fair sculptures, or a money-pile, or heightened social rank : 
 Such, at the most and at the best, is chiefly seen life's issue, 
 And so the workers pass away, and leave their works behind them. 
 All must so be left behind — suddenly, irrevocably left ; — 
 Cast off, as those brown-varnished husks that held the bright- 
 winged sphinxes. 
 Thy lands, and home, and pleasant wife ; thy neighbours, friends, 
 
 and children ; 
 Thy books, amusements, and pursuits ; thy business and thy plea- 
 sures — 
 All must be left behind for ever on an instant call, 
 And then how slight, at best, are seen the poor results of life ! 
 Well, if there be not many follies, with losses, sorrows, sins, 
 And ulcers on the memory, and torments in the conscience — 
 Better, if truly can be added some things of good and generous. 
 Notable, whereby to be remembered, as having served thy kind. 
 But for the mass it is all vanity — their work as done in life : 
 Toil, and care, and guilt, and selfish searchings after pleasure. 
 And, for the best how short of that perfection well-desired 
 Is all our work, however done, and with whatever zeal ! 
 Thou canst but make beginnings ; all the ends are too far off 
 No theme was ever yet exhausted, and no mind writ out. 
 Li all these topics I have handled, more than nine times twelve, 
 Each hath somewhat lacking, somewhat faulty, somewhat false ; 
 The good ideal was not gained, and conscience goeth humbly, 
 Dissatii.ficd with much of work so distant from its aim.
 
 ^ 
 
 — •^•^ 
 
 OF LIFE'S WORK 420 *^ 
 
 Thus the painter always hath new touches to be added, 
 The speaker, afterward, is vext for his forgotten eloquence ; 
 The architect, too late, perceiveth how his plans were better ; 
 And no high-worker ever reached the standard in his mind. 
 
 Few consider that good means are needful for good ends — 
 
 Few regard the goal while fevered with the running, 
 
 But all go hotly on, competing to their graves. 
 
 With infinite diversities of circumstance and conduct. 
 
 To one man it is given to save souls, to another to heal bodies ; 
 
 To a third to fashion mind, to a fourth to conquer matter : 
 
 Here is all prosperity and peace ; there much adversity and trouble ; 
 
 Sickness and poverty on one side ; on another health and wealth. 
 
 Scorn not thy specialty as mean, if it hath less honour than thy 
 
 neighbour's ; 
 The members of one body cannot all be head or hand. 
 Art thou in thy place? It is thy post ; and this set service is thy 
 
 duty : 
 The Master- Worker's journeymen are found of every craft. 
 And He doth use them as He will, sending them hither and thither. 
 Revealing to but few of them the meaning in His mind. 
 
 Perchance some heroic pioneer, zealous to reclaim barbarians, 
 And civilise those brute-like hordes through kindliness with faith, 
 Is stricken midway in his travel, victim to a ruthless savage, 
 And seemingly forsaken of his Master — a tool flung away half-used. 
 Perchance a brave adventurer, whether among Arctic snows 
 Or in the tropical desert, or about fever-breathing marshes, 
 Just as he reached his prize — that open Polar Sea, 
 The vast, semi-fabulous lake, the dread, mysterious city — 
 Perisheth, as by a trivial accident— the mariner in very sight of 
 
 port — 
 One hour longer, and success had crowned his life-long efforts ! 
 But, his work was done, and God called home that servant ; 
 Some other is found ready soon to carry on the torch. 
 If the Lord is satisfied, no labourer need complain ; 
 They live and move and work to please their Master, not them- 
 selves. 
 His will is unto them all law ; they die, but not untimely ; 
 Elsewhere they recognise alike His mercy and His wisdom. 
 Our unbelief is pitiful at failures and mischances,
 
 -^ M ' 
 
 Y" 430 C*/-' LJJ-'A '^ LESSOiVS. 
 
 But those good servants gladly heard the praise of God, "Well- 
 done ! " 
 
 Happy is the man who, lookuig back, can say, "I have lived sin- 
 cerely ; 
 I have wrought the task of duly, and fought the fight of faith." 
 Happy if his memories of time are as incense for the temple uf 
 
 eternity ; 
 Happy, in spite of outer foes, if conscience is his friend. 
 He may have gained no moneys, he haply misseth fame ; 
 His very nearest and his dearest have wronged him and deceived 
 
 him ; 
 But, with a past all good — seed-harvest of the future- 
 Even this dark present shall be light within his soul, 
 Well at peace with God, with self, and every creature, 
 Happily in harmony and love with humblest as with highest. 
 All infirmities forgiven, every negligence excused. 
 And each iniquity of sense and circumstance atoned ; 
 Righteous in the righteousness of Christ — his Lord, and Judge, and 
 
 Brother — 
 Accepted in that sacrifice which hath redeemed the worlds — 
 How can a spirit thus endowed, rich in all the treasuries of heaven, 
 Fail of inward blessedness, though outwardly oppressed ? 
 Live purely, work diligently, do good to all around thee, 
 Let each minute on the wing fly as a honey-bee of duty ; 
 Suffer nothing living to have aught to charge against thee, 
 Man or woman, bird or beast, down to the meanest insect, 
 Nor cruelty, nor lust, nor fraud, nor meditated evil, 
 Nor aught but what omissions and infirmities excuse ; 
 So when thine hour is come and death is at thy threshold 
 To beckon thee to better spheres, where spirit can expand. 
 Happily shalt thou welcome him, thy guest and not thine enemy. 
 And speed with him departing, as a friend to call thee home. 
 
 OF LIFE'S LESSONS. 
 n.\.PPY is he that knoweth and that serveth the true mission of his 
 
 life, 
 Confessing Providence his guide, through blessings and afflictions ;
 
 OF LIFE'S LESSON'S. 431 
 
 He that never wavered from liis duty, nor shrank from faitliful 
 
 witness, 
 Enduring all things cheerfully, as given by God's hand. 
 Each of us hatli his own vocation, special, sure, and ordered ; 
 And each of us is thereto fitted, if he will but well obey ; 
 But those who hate the yoke, and kick against the beam, 
 Hinder where they ought to help, andbreak their wheels with ruin. 
 
 Let a man question with himself, What is my being's errand ? 
 Is this my proper aim ? and how shall I achieve it ? 
 !Man's gain and the glory of God ; my own weal and my children's 
 Holiness, and happiness, and health — how best to win all good ? 
 The godly heart and the holy life, here is the secret of happiness ; 
 None can steal away that treasure but the traitor self ; 
 Cleanliness, temperance, and exercise, here is the secret of health ; 
 A vigorous youth, in green old age, is due in chief to these : 
 The poorest man that liveth can be clean in mind and body, 
 His heart sprinkled from an evil conscience, his body washed in 
 
 pure water; 
 And daily carefulness lor both shall win him more than wealth- 
 More than many Naamans have conquered, lepers of the flesh and 
 
 of the spirit : 
 In peace and health he shall be rich, though competence were 
 
 lacking ; 
 And where the worth of competence, despoiled of health and peace ? 
 
 Do well at all times to thy neighbour, both by word and deed ; 
 
 Good conscience shall repay thy toil to every jot and tittle ; 
 
 Yea, though he greet thee with ingratitude, or knew not thy 
 charities. 
 
 Thou art rewarded sevenfold, with peace in thine own bosom. 
 
 And it is a very narrow world ; ever shalt thou meet thine ante- 
 cedents; 
 
 Thy good or evil shall return, not after many days. 
 
 The eye of God is on thee always, and the eye of conscience, 
 
 And the eye of man beside, much oftener than thou wottest. 
 
 Do well to thine own self, by striving ever after truths ; 
 
 The very striving winneth much, though little else be compassed : 
 
 As thou doest, it shall be done to thee : seeds yield according to 
 their kind ; 
 
 Wheat and tares alike shall still yield wheat and tares.
 
 4 
 
 432 OF LIFE'S LESSONS. 
 
 The best and truest comfort is within, a conscience well at ease ; 
 
 And woe to those who make that inmost friend a bosom foe : 
 
 Happy nights or miserable, days of hope or fear, 
 
 Peace at the heart, or terror in the soul, these depend on conscience. 
 
 And after tliat chief treasure, the fine gold next to be desired 
 
 Is a good husband or a gentle wife, that true and fond companion ; 
 
 But pity and sorrow where instead tlie pair are found ill-mated, 
 
 There is no closer peril than a scorpion in the nest ; 
 
 For either wedded foe will taint the nature of the other — 
 
 Estrange the kin, and curse the home, and blight the blooms of 
 
 life, 
 While those degrading fetters of a miserable marriage 
 Put to an open shame and grief the nobly patient spirit. 
 Be the fault in husband or in wife, alas ! for evil wedlock ; 
 Alas ! for the children and the household ; alas ! for either self ; 
 An overweighted teamster shackled by galling harness, * 
 
 A racer cruelly spurred, yet sharply curbed to lose. 
 
 How strangely dark is Providence in heaping up afflictions on the 
 
 good, 
 Leaving to the wicked all prosperities, health, and wealth, and 
 
 honour ! 
 David noted it of old, and bade us watch their end, 
 When sin's green bay-tree drieth up, and righteousness shall 
 
 flourish ; 
 And often are our wedded pairs seen opposites ill-matclied, 
 And so those hapless homes are curst by evil wives or husbands ! 
 Children grow up quickly, disobedient and self-willed, 
 And care, and cost, and teaching shall seem well-nigh flung awny ; 
 And all is loss and ruin, in spite of prayers and pains, 
 And where the dove of peace should build, the harpy set her ne t. 
 The mother is most seen in sons, the father found in daugliters, 
 Each, for good or evil, reproduced in heart and mind : 
 So, the bad father's boy may liken his sweet mother for her good- 
 ness, 
 And so a bitter mother shall liave girls as patient as their father ; 
 The mother infected her prodigal sons with temper and caprices ; 
 The pure and studious daughters show the father's youth again. 
 
 Those who suffer wrongfully should ask, of their own hearts and 
 Heaven, 
 
 -^
 
 4 
 
 OF LIFE'S LESSORS. 433 V 
 
 Why hath this sorrow come upon u;? What may be tlie errand 
 
 of this trial ? 
 It is not alone to prove thee, not alone to drive thee to thy God, 
 Not only for humilities or chastisement, for strength in faith and 
 
 patience ; 
 Eut also that thy brethren may be warned, that the weaker natures 
 
 may be comforted ; 
 That thy recorded witnessings may help to bless mankind. 
 He that endureth hardness learncth by long suffering. 
 But also thereby teacheth, that men may learn, and angels ; 
 And there be martyrs of all grades, witnesses to every kind of truth ; 
 INIartyrs not only to religion, but likewise to friendship and to love; 
 Men, no less than women, protesting against social tyrannies ; 
 Animals, as well as children, to testify against all cruelty ; 
 In different ranks, at various posts of patient wrong-enduring, 
 Cohorts of that ubiquitous host, the noble army of martyrs. 
 
 We are mainly what we make ourselves, what we suffer outer cir- 
 cumstance to shape us. 
 As yielding or resisting, and linked with right or wrong ; f 
 
 Duties omitted, duties done, combine to form our fates. 
 As faith and works may fashion them, or negligence and passion : 
 And albeit ancestry be much, that stock of special qualities 
 Inclined to higher or lower, to gifts or lack of gifts, ij 
 
 Though worldly means be more, through poverty or riches, \ 
 
 And influences and accidents without us as within us, I 
 
 Though mother's milk were poisonous, or half our lessons error, 
 Though grace, or hap of either sort, be for us or against us, \ 
 
 Yet may the spirit of a man so master the material. 
 
 That every hindrance shall but stand his step-stone to success ; . 
 
 Therefore the limbless dwarf is seen a mental athlete, ! 
 
 The blind, the deaf, the dumb, are great through force of will ; \ 
 
 And thereby this life's heroes have assurance in themselves 
 That, spite of all and come what may, they still shall win their 
 battles. 
 
 Life, like a game of chess, is full of turns and changes ; 
 The field of our kaleidoscope is altered with each move ; 
 An error years agone thereafter yieldeth bitterness, 
 A prudent foresight in old days is profitable at last. 
 Too great caution, too much rashness, both alike are harmful, 
 
 2 K
 
 4 
 
 434 OF LIFE'S LESSONS. 
 
 Courage with forbearance is the golden rule of life. 
 
 Advance, yet circumspectly, but move, and stand not still , 
 
 The world with all upon it spinneth onward, ever onward. 
 
 He that is an idler on the march, is trodden downi unpitied, 
 
 And those who skirmish unsupported risk continual loss. 
 
 yet life-losses, as in chess, are ofttimes well-recovered. 
 
 If only patience and good temper mingle with keen skill. 
 
 And Providence will bless the soul that goeth stoutly forward. 
 
 Till even death-bed penitence may draw as by stale-mate. 
 
 Ever on, move bravely on, and play thy game in wisdom ; 
 
 Faith and conduct are staunch knights, though fortune's queen 
 
 were lost ; 
 And thy castled character, and Ihy mitred piety. 
 With life's not trivial round of pawns to serve thy kingly soul, 
 These may win the game at last, so thou battle shrewdly, 
 And stand a Christian champion, not a coward of the \\orld. 
 
 It is only after long years, and much of change and failure. 
 
 That a man gaineth his experience how best to tend himself. 
 
 Best for health and comfort, best for peace of mind, 
 
 Best by silence or by speech, through action or forbearance. 
 
 He findeth out by slow degrees that in a man's own self 
 
 Is shown his truest enemy, is found his choicest friend ; 
 
 That good-doing, temperance, and prayer are the triple cord of 
 happiness ; 
 
 That evil-speaking earneth hate, while charities win love ; 
 
 Tliat guilt can never go impunished, even where repented and for- 
 given ; 
 
 That all neglected duties earn their chastisement as sins ; 
 
 That only moderation is in everything its wisdom. 
 
 And all excesses evil, yea, to excess in good. 
 
 The more we see and hear, the longer a man liveth. 
 
 The more is charity his law, in all things toleration ; 
 
 Every brother, spite of faults, hath much of good within him ; 
 
 Every sister with her graces still hath many failings ; 
 
 Even adverse circumstance hath always some fair phase. 
 
 And, if it bring much evil, yieldeth also some small good. 
 
 We learn among life's lessons the value of every present, 
 
 The possible vast import of each occasion passing ; 
 
 For a little thing becometh great, if a great wisdom work it, 
 
 Even as a great thintr dwindletli. be it breathed on by a fool : 
 
 ^ — i
 
 *r OF LIFE'S LESSONS. 435 ^ 
 
 It ever was the gift of genius to build grandeur out of trifles, 
 Davy's watch-glass, Newton's apple, yielded mighty truths ; 
 As it ever is tlie guerdon of the wise, at once embracing opportunity 
 To snatch off-hand some conquest slower toil could scarce achieve. 
 
 He hath slender worldly wisdom, and no knowledge of himself, 
 Who fancieth men care for him, as a study worth their musing ; 
 A little of their idlest curiosity is all he need expect ; 
 Even if the man hath won a name, and set it high in honour. 
 We may be mountains to ourselves, but are molehills to most others, 
 And there is a wise humility in judging of oneself as nought ; 
 Yet there is greatness in each one of us, depth, and height, and 
 
 breadth, 
 And it were a folly to forget our values to be vast and individual ; 
 Only let each as to himself count over his just responsibilities, 
 Giving his neighbour credit for the like internal sense — 
 A sense, most personal to each of us, and yearning little over others. 
 Selfish and unheedful if ye will ; but the stringent law of our 
 
 being — 
 That each man is the centre for his either-world circumference. 
 And everything to self, although as nothing to his neighbour. 
 
 A tree may be felled in a day, that hath haply been a century in 
 
 growing. 
 And the long-conned lessons of a lifetime can be read in half an 
 
 hour ; 
 And many have learnt and taught again, and given their teachings 
 
 truly ; 
 So let me bear this witness, as a few of many truths : 
 That a good life is the principal thing — a pure and peaceful spirit — 
 Whatever storms may rage without, this happy calm within : 
 That the Bible is a book for every age, in spite of the ignorance of 
 
 scholiasts. 
 And deeper than man's intellect, despite the infidelity of sciolists, 
 With its simple text for truth, though all truths be not spoken, 
 To the end that reason may piece-in that skeleton frame of faith : 
 That all men and all women are well-mingled good and evil. 
 With few extreme consistencies in sinner or in saint ; 
 That most things have so many sides, such various points of vision, 
 No ivise man blameth other eyes for taking dilTerent vie\'\s ; 
 That no human friendsliip is so sure, for a whisper not to shake it, 
 
 ^ 
 
 •4*
 
 ■A— 
 
 u 
 
 436 OF LIFE'S LESSOiVS. 
 
 No enmity so hard and fierce, tliat kindness cannot melt ; 
 
 Tiiat happmess is never seen on earth, except as gro\\a of good- 
 ness ; 
 
 Tliat use levelleth all our lots, till discontent creep in ; 
 
 That the rich hath small pleasure in his wealth, and the poor many 
 comforts with his labour ; 
 
 That single folk and married, guess not each the other's griefs ; 
 
 That health is an ill-valuer of its gain, that sicknefs findeth many 
 to console her. 
 
 And Providence, by compensation, balanceth conditions — 
 
 In fine, that life is full of trials for its wearied travellers, 
 
 Fainting now in the tropic sun — now chilled by the wintry storm ; 
 
 And that, as the issue of all said, life is our school for immortality, 
 
 To teach the primer lessons of Eternity in Time. 
 
 If God be very merciful, thy sin will find thee out — 
 
 Will find thee out for recompense, in this life, not the next ; 
 
 And seldom is He not thus merciful, therefore bear the rod : 
 
 Thou shalt be spared hereafter, if thy punishment was here : 
 
 Let this then comfort thine adversity ; thou knowest not the vast- 
 
 ness of His love, 
 In tenderness and equity thus visiting thee now ; 
 Hope thou, therefore, in afflictions, that may kindly clear thy 
 
 punishments ; 
 And be very humble at prosperity, lest it should be counted thy 
 
 reward. 
 
 A wise man tighteneth his tongue, speaking less than thinking, 
 
 Whereby he can more firmly act alone and unsuspected ; 
 
 He liveth in the fortress of his mind, and rejoiceth in the garden of 
 his heart, 
 
 Making sweet companionship of thought, and having heaven with- 
 in him, 
 
 Glad in the music of old memories, and lightened by the vision of 
 new hopes. 
 
 King of himself, and reigning as a king, above that little world — 
 
 Little ? rather infinite, eternal — a world that is a portion of God's 
 throne — 
 
 A world, a very temple for the Lord, an everlasting heritage ! 
 
 Thus doth he rule in his integrity, pure and strong of soul, 
 
 Innocent, redeemed, and independent, serving only the Most High,
 
 OF LIFE 'S LESSOA'S. 437 
 
 No man acknowledged as his mastei- over the supremacy of con- 
 science, 
 And very few, and those the best, reckoned of liis intimates in 
 
 fellowship : 
 So, self-possessed and individual, a wise man walketh quietly — 
 Happiness within, serenity without, cautious in his kindliness. 
 With silence as his comrade througli this Ijabbling world of slanders. 
 And doing good in secret, while defying open ill. 
 
 Passion may be hot and strong, but thou canst be its master, 
 
 Unless thy silly weakness yield tlie battle to thy foe ; 
 
 Therefore resist, good youth, look not, taste not, touch not ; 
 
 A crevice in the dam would let loose the ^Mississippi. 
 
 Passion is the flaring of dry stubble, burnt out as soon as lighted — 
 
 A fierce and dangerous flame full often blown among the ricks ; 
 
 But Love the steady fire on the Cliristmas hearth of home. 
 
 With cheerfulness and comfort in that warm dear chimney-corner. 
 
 Life's trials may be hard to bear, but patience can outlive them ; 
 
 To-morrow's victory shall crown the conflicts of to-day. 
 
 So, then, persist in doing bravely, O brother hard bested ! 
 
 Material evils have an end, but not a Christian's spirit. 
 
 Life teacheth courage, coolly tempered with just fear ; 
 
 Life enjoineth charity, safely balanced by right caution ; 
 
 Life is buoyed by hope, even on the breakers of despair ; 
 
 And life hath taught wise lessons to the simplest ere he dieth. 
 
 Look back. Alas ! the gloomy view. Our pasts are full of sad- 
 ness — 
 So many friends long gone before — gone whither, who can tell? — 
 So many places once familiar knowing us now no more ; 
 So many sins and follies, and so few young hopes fulfilled ! 
 Look back. Alas ! in looking back there is a world of sorrow — 
 The best must have his penitence, the wisest his regrets. 
 It is an enervating glance, that piteous looking back ; 
 A chill, a check, a wakening for the spirit yearning forward : 
 Be penitent and prayerful, but discourage looking back — 
 We cannot bring the past again; repent it, and forget it — 
 Rather look up, look round, look forward, onward, upward ; 
 Here is the wisdom, here the mercy, here all help in life. 
 
 I well remember, in old days, amon^ the M'ondrous Alps 
 
 !t<?" 
 
 ^'
 
 43S OF LIFE'S END. 
 
 Nigh Chamonuix, a wanderer on tlie glaciers of Mont Blanc ; 
 He and a shrewd Columbian who had roamed the Rocky Moun- 
 tains, 
 Had safely crossed that icy sea beneath the Aiguille Verte — 
 And with a guide, who missed his way, came to a terriljle spot, 
 "Where equal peril seemed to stand in progress or returning. 
 A narrow narrowing chamois-track traversed the frightful steep, 
 A thousand feet above us, and a thousand feet below, 
 Sheer up, sheer down ; and at a corner, dazed and dizzily lingering. 
 As gazing down half giddy on those perilous points below — 
 "Look up !" America shouted, and England echoed, "Up !" 
 That upward look restored its balance to my swimming eyesight ; 
 The calm bright blue above was as a rest and a refreshing : 
 I stood one prayerful minute, then went onward looking up : 
 Looking up and looking forward, never looking down — 
 The backward, downward, gloomy glance were perilous to destruc- 
 tion — 
 And soon that fearful angle past (we clung a rock to clear it). 
 On in conquering joy we went, exultant, looking up. 
 It was a true parable of life ; and oft have I since noted 
 How wise it is in peril's hour serenely to look up. 
 
 OF LIFE'S END. 
 He is but a fool who forgetteth how soon he will come to be for- 
 gotten, 
 Forgotten even while he liveth, if absence imitate the death ; 
 He hath made small progress in experience whose trust is fixed 
 
 even on his nearest. 
 Or is stayed by the staff of gratitude, or reposeth upon family 
 
 affection : 
 The world can do without us, and the place we fill on earth 
 Is soon felt wanted for some other, and we have lived too long : 
 Wave leapeth over wave, as owner ousteth owner. 
 And each and all make instant speed, to break on death's rough 
 
 beach. 
 Thy son, eager for his projects, gladly shall obliterate thy schemes, 
 That gay young heir hath much to do, with little time for doing ; 
 Tiie old man sowed his whims, the young man must uproot them. 
 And so, in slow revenge, he sternly changeth all things ; 
 
 V
 
 OF LIFE'S END. 439 
 
 The copse of tliy planting shall be grubbed, thy pond imtst be 
 
 filled in, 
 This road be turned and widened, that wing be taken down, 
 That so thy son may make a mark on his brief day of power, 
 And prove, O doting father, how soon thou art forgotten. 
 Thy dearest friend will scantly sigh, " Poor fellow, he is gone ' 
 Thy children in their decent black will secretly feel freer 
 The place, that knew thee well, shall know thee now no more, 
 A billow broken on the rocks not more entirely shattered. 
 Even thy tokens of honour, yea, the choicest archives of thy fame, 
 Shall come to be tossed about by strangers, sold a broker's bargain ; 
 Traders shall publicly appraise thy treasured household secrets, 
 And mean sharp eyes and cold hard hands pollute thy sacred 
 
 things ; 
 While the world will merrily wag on, and all these friends and 
 
 neighbours. 
 Even to thy nearest and thy dearest, shall soon be well content to 
 
 have thee gone ! 
 
 He is but a poor weak soul, who hath not full resources in himself, 
 Yea in himself and in his God, for life and immortality ; 
 Conscience of good for all the past, trustful love for all the present. 
 Hope for all the future, these shall build him np sublime. 
 However friends neglect, or kith and kin forget him, 
 He is independent of them all, a king above the world ; 
 Yea, let the mountains be dissolved, let earth be rocked in ruins, 
 The good man standeth calm and strong, for God is his ally, 
 With calm r^irospect of labours, and glad prospect of rewards. 
 And precious memories and great hopes, to strengthen and to 
 
 cheer him 
 Far out of bad men's reach, and all those storms past by. 
 Thou art at length a freedman, emancipate from sin ; 
 Lets and hindrances forgotten, it is thine to will and do, 
 And thou art safe from tyrannies, for all their rage and envy ; 
 Come to be the king of some bright world, with loving spirits round 
 
 thee. 
 And all things new and beauteous near, and evil old things gone. 
 Nor sin nor guilt nor care, no pain no fear no sorrow, 
 And only rest and love and certain happiness and glory ! 
 What matter for all perils past ? thou hast escaped the fowler, 
 The prison-door is opened and thy soul set free from earth ; 
 
 4 
 
 ^
 
 
 440 OF LIFE 'S END. 
 
 What malt.^r even for the loves of those who soon forgot thee ? 
 They scarcely felt tlieh" loss, they scantly guess thy gain. 
 If only life and heart and mind have innocent been and useful, 
 Thou art thine own best friend, thy truest self-consoler : 
 But if thy bosom's inmate hath been sly and secret vice, 
 Thou livest thine own surest foe, the subtlest and the worst : 
 And when the bad man dieth, all his sins rise up against him, 
 Clamouring at his memory with imprecated judgments ; 
 Uut when the good departeth, all his noble deeds 
 Surround him lii<;e a cloud of light to sphere his soul in glory : 
 t^nd sorrowing fond remembrance then shall linger round his loss. 
 And some good son or daughter will never cease to mourn him ; 
 And friends, known better if unseen, without one fleshly taint, 
 Friends of the mind and of the spirit, still shall esteem him krndl}-. 
 Roman Horace triumphed in Not all of me shall perish ; 
 Tuscan Ennius lived with joy Upon the mouths of men ; 
 A.nd equally the Christian willi the Pagan is happy in such pro- 
 mise of affection, 
 For, love from even strangers is a comfort to his soul. 
 
 Let no man desire for himself to live to an extreme old age, 
 
 New generations round him, with whom he hath no sympathies : 
 
 Let no man pray for longer life than is our common lot, 
 
 Nor seek in breathing death to be a ghost of times gone by. 
 
 For, tended with whatever kindness and however stayed. 
 
 Still it were a sadness to be sure, thou weariest these who serve 
 
 thee ; 
 And, if unkindly left alone with mercenary helpers. 
 It were a solitude indeed, and better to be gone : 
 And many pains and weaknesses, and many saddest memories, 
 And bitter crops from ancient sins must hedge old age with thorns. 
 At night, tired with day labour, how much we long for sleep. 
 And it were a sorry kindness to keep the weary wakeful : 
 So when the work of life is done, and the hour for departure 
 
 groweth timely, 
 It were an evil mercy to snatch the old from slumber : 
 Miracles of jDrayer should not be worked to make old age grow 
 
 older, 
 But only foi the younger sort, witii life-worI< unfulfdled : 
 So it may sufUcc thee well to say, I have lived and worked my 
 
 hour, —
 
 THE CONSmrMATION. 441 
 
 If only 011c, have labmircd well, and lived a duteous life: 
 
 For here we crawl awhile, and feed, and weave a little web, 
 
 Anon, when chrysalised in death, to be our strait cocoon : 
 
 For each man's works that follow him, do clothe him in theit 
 
 meshes, 
 He hath wrought out for himself his robe of shame or honour. 
 And further on in time, at fulness and at ripeness, 
 Those cerements will be burst and the soul shall speed unshackled, 
 (If no ichneumon-evil shall have dropped its egg within 
 To hatch and grow and gnaw the conscience then for ever and 
 
 ever — ) 
 Flying from star to star, as if from flower to flower, 
 And culling nectar in all worlds of love and praise to God : 
 Thus, with life-work done, it were a blessedness to die. 
 And welcome to each faithful servant is the end of life. 
 
 The End of Life ?^0 not the end ! say rather its beginning ; 
 The end of pain and care and sin, but not the end of life : 
 For life is the infinite commencement of a being still to be 
 When countless ages shall have dimmed Orion of his brightness, 
 The flowing of a Nile that hath its mountain source in God, 
 Speeding ever onward through the ocean of Existence. 
 
 % 
 
 
 THE CONSUMMATION. 
 
 Come, O Desire of all nations ! come down and take thy crowns. 
 
 Thy crowns of triple glory, nature grace and providence ; 
 
 Come, to satisfy exceedingly the yearnings of creation's heart. 
 
 Come, to save reward and bless and glorify thy martyrs. 
 
 Come, to vindicate thy righteousness, come, to prove thy wisdoms, 
 
 Come, Thou Lord of all, in providence grace and nature ! 
 
 O that Thou wouldst rend the heavens, and stand once more on 
 
 Olivet, — 
 O that in the brightness of tliy love our souls may be as snow in 
 
 summer ! 
 We have looked for Thee age after age, we have waited for thy 
 
 Presence many centuries, 
 We have hoped each year might be the last, the last and yet the 
 
 first,
 
 #■■ 
 
 442 THE CONSUMMATION. 
 
 The last of suffering and sin, the first of righteousness and glory, 
 The last of Satan's usurpation, the first of Christ's right rule. 
 Thy saints in pure succession have longed through life for Thee, 
 And sought thy sign upon the sky, thy cross among the clouds, 
 And watched and looked and lingered, till botli head and heart 
 
 M'ere sick. 
 Sinking disappointed to their graves, one by one in thousands. 
 To meet Thee through the gate of death, to them the door of 
 
 heaven, 
 And there to kiss thy feet in bliss, though not yet come in glory ! 
 They waited for that Advent, long promised to thy church. 
 In "Lo, I come, — and quickly come ;" yea. Lord of life, come 
 
 quickly : 
 Then shall all griefs be comforted, all wrongs be well-requited, 
 All good be set on high, all evil fall confounded ; 
 Then shall faith expand, flowering to glad fruition, 
 Then shall love rejoice in Thee love's great desire, 
 Then shall hope fulfilled attain its infinite reward. 
 The life of purity and praise in happiness for ever. 
 
 Beyond this firmament of air, beyond yon firmament of stars, 
 Circleth that third firmament, whereunto Paul was raptured : 
 Thither holy Enoch hath ascended, thither did Elijah's chariot rush. 
 Thither flew those risen saints who saw the dying Jesus : 
 There, is the light unsearchable, the Great King's Presence- 
 chamber, 
 The firmament of spirits, where their Father's children meet, 
 Tha* innumerable company of angels, those myriads of martyred 
 
 blest. 
 That mingled crowu oi ransomed souls untu the resurrection. 
 And there the First-born sitteth, as our Priest upon his throne. 
 With some his firstfruit sheaf of samts, embodied bright about 
 
 him, 
 And thence He soon shall come, descending from those heavens, 
 To stand once more on Olivet and judge and save mankind. 
 
 Is not the day approaching? that hour doth it now draw near? 
 See we not on every side the foresigns of his Presence ? — 
 The powers of heaven have been shaken, and as with autumn- 
 leaves 
 Our shattered stars of states and churches fall to earth in showers:
 
 ^- 
 
 THE consummation: 443 
 
 Aiicl men are running to and fro, and liglUning flashcth know- 
 ledge, 
 And few are whispering peace whereas the many shout for war, 
 And earthquake, famine, pestilence, have ravaged every land, 
 Till continent to continent hath groaned across the seas : 
 Trouble, such as never yet so much hath torn all nations, 
 On each man's home is visiting calamity and loss, 
 And evil spirits are let loose, while prophets prophesy falsely, 
 And, through abounding wickedness, both faith and love are dead : 
 Over the world in antitype old Egypt's plagues arc pouring, 
 Because our grander Passover, Redemption is at hand ; 
 And the Euphrates drieth up, and Babylon is fallen, 
 And those who love Jerusalem are yearnmg on her stones. 
 
 —Shall He find faith on the earth ? this is the keynote of his 
 
 coming, 
 Truth to perish, zeal to pine, and honesties decay : 
 So, where be now" the shepherds, to teach and live sound doctrine. 
 And where the following flocks, and where the wholesome pastures? 
 Baal hath his priests by hundreds, and bishops preach-up unbelief. 
 Antichrist is wondered-after everywhere with all his ancient lies. 
 Statesmen sell for place their fathers' church and creed, 
 Commerce sitteth loose of ancient credit, trade is full of trickery. 
 Wealth is well-excused though fraud hath heaped* the coffers, 
 And pens are bribed, and tongues are bought, and balances false- 
 weighted, 
 And he that doeth righteously is but a simple fool : 
 Marriage is a merchandize with Mammon, and love scarce seen or 
 
 heard, 
 Saving as a story of the past to be jeered at in this present, 
 Children do dishonour to their parents, servants cheat their masters, 
 Fashion addeth lying lures even to youth and beauty ; 
 Never did the wrong stand stronger, never lay the right so weak, 
 Never was this wheatfield of the world so choked with tares ana 
 
 poppies, 
 And Angels are waiting with their sickles to reap the mingled 
 
 harvest 
 That good and evil may be separate in the Judgment day. 
 
 Exceeding broad arc tliy commandments, stretching to the corners 
 of creation 
 
 ■*f
 
 444 THE CONSUMMATION. 
 
 And from time's beginning to the end of all things, 
 Evidencing penalty for guilt, and the blessing on obedience, 
 With peoples as with single souls of every age and race. 
 Nations meet punishment in this world, single sinners mostly in 
 
 the next, 
 And both through repentance may be spared, the millions even as 
 
 the units ; 
 But where luxury in vice and proud ungodliness are rampant, 
 Little hope for a people here, or for a man hereafter. 
 Wail, corrupted France, — look to thyself, America, — 
 Take heed, complacent England, or thy pride may find its fall. 
 A race given up to vanities, a sensual boastful people, 
 Is made to flee before its foe, injuriously provoked ; 
 While that foe, godly true and homely, crowned with easy vic- 
 tories, 
 Testifieth openly to earth heaven's judgment on the wicked : 
 Again, two brother nations, the one upholding slavery, 
 The other helping freedom, strove together to the death ; 
 And Providence, in just sternness, crushed that tyrant wrong, 
 Granting to this kindlier right the triumph due to truth : 
 And for us, a folk too well at ease, a proudly separate people, 
 Unheeding others' rights and wrongs with independent scorn. 
 Betimes let us be humbler God-ward, gentler to our brethren, 
 That the avenging angel come not near our island home ; 
 Or haply even upon us may fall the penalty of kingdoms 
 Weakened by the sap of sloth, and trusting in their riches. 
 
 Haply, the time is short ; the end of all things neareth ; 
 
 For man at length hath well subdued his little worldly heritage. 
 
 Nothing new is found to do : the Arctic floes are threaded. 
 
 Till East and West join sailor hands across the Polar sea ; 
 
 They have dug them tunnels through the Alps, they have made a 
 
 water-highway over Suez, 
 Their thoughts flash in Atlantic depths, on Flimalayan heights; 
 The Nile hath yielded up his secret, and Slieba is a mystery no 
 
 more, 
 We track the central haunts of Cush, untrod of us till now ; 
 Bashan's rockbuilt cities, and Nineveh's lion courts. 
 The regions sown with gold and diamonds to allure us there, 
 That strange Sargasso floating realm, prolific of sea-monsters. 
 Those Easter-Island idols of a continent submerged, 
 
 ^ ^
 
 ,A, 
 
 THE CONSUMMATION. 
 
 445 
 
 All are known and well sought out, and nothing can be hid, 
 
 And in one hour upspring results that grew through countless ages. 
 
 Haply, it may soon be thundered, Time shall be no more, 
 
 The nations will conspire against Jerusalem restored, 
 
 Their antichrist to sit as god within that new-built temple. 
 
 And then Messiah, in His triumph, cometh Lord of all ! 
 
 The thrilling drama of this globe hath reached its consummation. 
 
 Opening on its seventh Sabbath act beyond the six. 
 
 And nature grace and providence, fate-sisters at one loom, 
 
 Have woven all their skeins by warf and woof to pattern, — 
 
 And now those ravelled threads are gathering up in borders 
 
 Wlierewith the perfect tapestry is fringed as by a frame, 
 
 So that Ezekiel's foursquare city, mystical Jerusalem, 
 
 Sheweth a pleasant picture as the waiting hall of heaven 
 
 And the legend on its golden gates is brightly blazing forth 
 
 For all evil, Tt is finished, — for all good, It is fulfilled.
 
 '^ 
 
 4
 
 -# 
 
 ALPHABETICAL LIST 
 
 OF ABOVE 
 
 SIX HUNDRED NAMES OF TERSONS AND PLACES 
 INCIDENTALLY MENTIONED IN THIS WORK. 
 
 Aaron. 
 
 Abdiel. 
 
 Abel. 
 
 Abiram. 
 
 Abraham, 
 
 Abyssinia. 
 
 Academus. 
 
 Achilles. 
 
 Adam. 
 
 .i^acus. 
 
 TEgrean Sea. 
 
 yEolia. 
 
 ^schylus. 
 
 ./Esop. 
 
 /Etna. 
 
 Agag. 
 
 Agamemnon. 
 
 Agur. 
 
 A'nasuerus. 
 
 Aiguille Vert. 
 
 Ajax. 
 
 Alaric. 
 
 Alban. 
 
 Alcibiades. 
 
 Alcyone. 
 
 Aldebaran. 
 
 Alexander. 
 
 Alfred. 
 
 Alps. 
 
 Amazon. 
 
 Ambracia. 
 
 America. 
 
 Anacreon. 
 
 Ananias. 
 
 Anaximander. 
 
 Andaman. 
 
 Andes. 
 
 Antarctic. 
 
 Anticyra. 
 
 Antigone. 
 
 Antipodes. 
 
 Arabia. 
 
 Arc. 
 
 Arctic. 
 
 Aricia. 
 
 Aristarchus. 
 
 Aristophanes. 
 
 Aristotle. 
 
 Ashtaroth. 
 
 Asia. 
 
 Aspasia. 
 
 Assyria. 
 
 Atalanta. 
 
 Athanasius. 
 
 Athens. 
 
 Atlantic. 
 
 Atlas. 
 
 Attalus. 
 
 Attila. 
 
 Au'/ustine.
 
 
 r 
 
 44S 
 
 ALPHABETICAL 
 
 LIST ^ 
 
 
 Aurung-zebc. 
 
 Bu slim an. 
 
 Constantine. 
 
 
 Australia. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 Copan. 
 
 
 Austria. 
 
 
 Corinna. 
 
 
 Avignon. 
 
 Caesar. 
 
 Corinne. 
 
 
 Avon. 
 
 Caffre. 
 
 Cormth. 
 
 
 
 Cain. 
 
 Cornelia. 
 
 
 Baal. 
 
 Caligula. 
 
 Crassus. 
 
 
 Babel. 
 
 Calypso. 
 
 Croesus. 
 
 
 Babrius. 
 
 Calvary. 
 
 Cromwell. 
 
 
 Babylon. 
 
 Camilla. 
 
 Crusoe. 
 
 
 Bacon. 
 
 Canaan. 
 
 Cuba. 
 
 
 Banquo. 
 
 Candace 
 
 Curtius. 
 
 
 Barak. 
 
 Cannce. 
 
 Cush. 
 
 
 Bashan. 
 
 Cape. 
 
 Cyrus. 
 
 
 Bastile. 
 
 Capella. 
 
 
 
 Bedford. 
 
 Capua. 
 
 Doedalus. 
 
 
 Bedouin. 
 
 Carmel. 
 
 Dagon. 
 
 
 Bel. 
 
 Carr. 
 
 Damascus. 
 
 
 Belial. 
 
 Carthage. 
 
 Danaidcs. 
 
 
 Belisarius. 
 
 Cathay. 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 
 Bellerophon. 
 
 Catullus. 
 
 Danton. 
 
 
 Belus. 
 
 Caucasia. 
 
 Danube. 
 
 
 Benares. 
 
 Cazique. 
 
 David. 
 
 
 Benjamin. 
 
 Celt. 
 
 Davy. 
 
 
 Benoni. 
 
 Chaldrea. 
 
 Dead Sea. 
 
 
 Berkeley. 
 
 Chamouni.x 
 
 Deborah. 
 
 
 Berosus. 
 
 Charlemagne. 
 
 Delilah. 
 
 
 Bethesda. 
 
 Charles. 
 
 Delphi. 
 
 
 Bias. 
 
 Chilo. 
 
 Democrite. 
 
 
 Bion. 
 
 China. 
 
 Demosthenes 
 
 
 Boaz. 
 
 Chios. 
 
 De Stael. 
 
 
 Brahmin. 
 
 Chrysostom. 
 
 Deucalion. 
 
 
 Brazil. 
 
 Cicero. 
 
 Diana. 
 
 
 Briareus. 
 
 Cincinnatus. 
 
 Diogenes. 
 
 
 Britannia. 
 
 Circassia. 
 
 Dives. 
 
 
 Bruce. 
 
 Cleobulus. 
 
 Dodsley. 
 
 
 Brutus. 
 
 Colenso. 
 
 Dorian. 
 
 
 Bucephalus. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 Druid. 
 
 
 Buddhist. 
 
 Coliseum. 
 
 
 
 Bunyan. 
 
 Columbia. 
 
 Easter Island. 
 
 
 Burnian, 
 
 Columbus. 
 
 lulen. 
 
 .feak^ 
 
 
 >J
 
 OF PERSONS AND PLACES. 
 
 449 
 
 
 Edom. 
 
 Egeria. 
 
 Egypt. 
 
 Elephanta. 
 
 Eli. 
 
 Elijah. 
 
 Elisha. 
 
 Ellora. 
 
 Elysium. 
 
 Empedocles 
 
 England. 
 
 Ennius. 
 
 Enoch. 
 
 Ephesus. 
 
 Epicurus. 
 
 Eratostratu- 
 
 Erin. 
 
 Esther. 
 
 Esquimaux. 
 
 Ethiopia. 
 
 Etruria. 
 
 Euphrates. 
 
 Euripides. 
 
 Europe. 
 
 Eve. 
 
 Evelyn. 
 
 Ezekiel. 
 
 Fabius, 
 
 Fair-Havens 
 
 Fingal. 
 
 Finland, 
 
 Flaccus. 
 
 France. 
 
 Franklin. 
 
 Fuegian. 
 
 Gabriel. 
 Galileo. 
 Gallio. 
 Ganesa. 
 
 Ganges. 
 
 Gath. 
 
 Gehenna. 
 
 George. 
 
 Georgia. 
 
 Germany. 
 
 Golconda. 
 
 Goliath. 
 
 Goneril. 
 
 Gorgon. 
 
 Goth. 
 
 Gracchi. 
 
 Greece. 
 
 Greenland. 
 
 Griselda. 
 
 Guinea. 
 
 Hades. 
 
 Ham. 
 
 Hannah. 
 
 Hannibaj 
 
 Hartz. 
 
 HavelocK. 
 
 Hecate. 
 
 Hecla. 
 
 Helen. 
 
 Helot. 
 
 Helvetia. 
 
 Heraclitus. 
 
 HerculaneuiD 
 
 Hercules. 
 
 Hermione. 
 
 Herod. 
 
 Herodotus 
 
 Hesiod. 
 
 Hiero. 
 
 Hieropolis. 
 
 Hillel. 
 
 Himalaya 
 
 Hindoo. 
 
 Hindustan. 
 
 Hippodame. 
 
 Hobbes. 
 
 Homburg. 
 
 Homer. 
 
 Hooker. 
 
 Horace. 
 
 Hottentot. 
 
 Hun. 
 
 Huron. 
 
 Hydra. 
 
 Hymen. 
 
 Hymettus. 
 
 Icarus. 
 
 Inca. 
 
 Ind. 
 
 lona. 
 
 Ireland 
 
 Isaac. 
 
 Isaiah. 
 
 Israel. 
 
 Italy. 
 
 Ithiel. 
 
 Jachin. 
 
 Jacob. 
 
 Jael. 
 
 James. 
 
 Janus, 
 
 Japan. 
 
 Japhet. 
 
 Jeffries. 
 
 Jephthah 
 
 Jerome. 
 
 Jerusalem 
 
 Jesus. 
 
 Jezebel. 
 
 Job. 
 
 John. 
 
 Jordan. 
 
 Jorullo. 
 
 2 f 

 
 ^ 
 
 450 
 
 ALPHABETICAL 
 
 LIST 
 
 
 Joseph. 
 
 Maccabseus. 
 
 Missouri. 
 
 
 Josephus. 
 
 Maelstrom. 
 
 Mnemosyn 
 
 
 Joshua. 
 
 Meeonides. 
 
 Mohawk. 
 
 
 Josiah. 
 
 Magdalene. 
 
 Moloch. 
 
 
 Jubal. 
 
 Magog. 
 
 Momus. 
 
 
 Judoea. 
 
 Mahomet. 
 
 INIonte Rosa, 
 
 
 Judah. 
 
 Makariro. 
 
 Moses. 
 
 
 Judas. 
 
 Malay. 
 
 Moslem. 
 
 
 Judith. 
 
 Mammon. 
 
 Moschus, 
 
 
 Juggernaut. 
 
 Mandan. 
 
 Musseus. 
 
 
 Jupiter. 
 
 Manetho. 
 
 Muscovite. 
 
 
 Justinian. 
 
 Manilas. 
 
 Myrrha. 
 
 
 J u vena! 
 
 Manoah. 
 
 
 
 
 Marah. 
 
 Naples. 
 
 
 Kali. 
 
 Maratlion. 
 
 Narcissus. 
 
 
 Kamala 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 Nazarite. 
 
 
 Keats. 
 
 Mars. 
 
 Nelson. 
 
 
 Kedar. 
 
 Marsyas. 
 
 Neptune. 
 
 
 Korah. 
 
 Martial. 
 
 Nero. 
 
 
 
 Mary. 
 
 Nessus. 
 
 
 Labrador. 
 
 Mattatliias. 
 
 Nestor. 
 
 
 Laceda;mon. 
 
 Media. 
 
 Newton. 
 
 
 Lais. 
 
 Melchisedek. 
 
 Niagara. 
 
 
 Lamech. 
 
 Memucan. 
 
 Nile. 
 
 
 Lapland. 
 
 Mentor. 
 
 Nimrod 
 
 
 La Scala. 
 
 Mercury. 
 
 Nineveli. 
 
 
 Lawrence. 
 
 Merlin. 
 
 Nireus. 
 
 
 Lazarus. 
 
 IMethuselah. 
 
 Nisroc. 
 
 
 Lebanon. 
 
 Mexico. 
 
 Noah. 
 
 
 Lemuel. 
 
 Mezentius. 
 
 Nod. 
 
 
 Leonidas. 
 
 Micaiali. 
 
 North bea. 
 
 
 Lesljia. 
 
 Micnael. 
 
 Norge. 
 
 
 Liebig. 
 
 Midas. 
 
 Norway. 
 
 
 Livingstont. 
 
 Miiiiades. 
 
 Numa. 
 
 
 Livy. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 
 
 Lycia, 
 
 Minerva. 
 
 Obongo. 
 
 
 Lydia. 
 
 Minos. 
 
 Qidipus. 
 
 
 Lucifer. 
 
 Minotaur. 
 
 Og 
 
 
 Lucretius. 
 
 Mirabeau. 
 
 Olivet. 
 
 
 Luther. 
 
 Mirza. 
 
 Olympia. 
 
 i^ 
 
 \ycurgus. 
 
 Mississippi. 
 
 Olympus.
 
 
 ()/'■ PEJiSONS AiVD PLACED. 45 1 
 
 Omar. 
 
 Phryne. 
 
 Sam OS. 
 
 Omphale. 
 
 Pindar. 
 
 Samson. 
 
 Orion. 
 
 Pittacus. 
 
 Sappho. 
 
 Orleans. 
 
 Plato. 
 
 Satan. 
 
 Orpheus. 
 
 Pleiades. 
 
 Saturn. 
 
 Ossian. 
 
 Poland. 
 
 Sanchoniathon. 
 
 Ostiack. 
 
 Pole. 
 
 Sanscrit. 
 
 Otranto. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Saragossa. 
 
 Ovid. 
 
 Portugal. 
 
 Sargasso-sea, 
 
 
 Prometheus, 
 
 Satrap. 
 
 Pcestum. 
 
 Prospero. 
 
 Saxon. 
 
 Palseologus. 
 
 Proteus. 
 
 ScKvoIa. 
 
 Palenque. 
 
 Prussia. 
 
 Scipio. 
 
 Palissy. 
 
 Pygmalion. 
 
 Scotland. 
 
 Palmyra. 
 
 Pyramids. 
 
 Scythia. 
 
 Paine. 
 
 Pyrrho. 
 
 Sebastian. 
 
 Pandemonium. 
 
 Pythagoras. 
 
 Semiramis. 
 
 Pantheon. 
 
 
 Seric. 
 
 Paradise. . 
 
 Quixote. 
 
 Seth. 
 
 Pariah. 
 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Parsee. 
 
 Kabbah. 
 
 Sheba. 
 
 Parlhia. 
 
 Rahab. 
 
 Shelley. 
 
 Parrhasius. 
 
 Rechabite. 
 
 Siberia. 
 
 Pascal. 
 
 Red-Indian. 
 
 Sirach, 
 
 Paul. 
 
 Regulus. 
 
 Siren. 
 
 Peleg. 
 
 Rehoboam. 
 
 Sirius. 
 
 Periander. 
 
 Rhadamanthu"^. 
 
 Sisera. 
 
 Pericles. 
 
 Rhine. 
 
 Sisyphus. 
 
 Persepolis 
 
 Richard. 
 
 Smithfield. 
 
 Persia. 
 
 Robespierre. 
 
 Socrates. 
 
 Persius. 
 
 Rochefoucauld. 
 
 Sodom. 
 
 Peru. 
 
 Rocky Mountains 
 
 Solomon. 
 
 Peter. 
 
 Rome. 
 
 Solon. 
 
 Petra. 
 
 Rubicon. 
 
 Sophocles. 
 
 Petrarch. 
 
 Ruth. ^ 
 
 Sosii. 
 
 Petronius. 
 
 Russia. 
 
 Southampton. 
 
 Phidias. 
 
 
 Spain. 
 
 Philippi. 
 
 Salamis. 
 
 Spallanzani. 
 
 Philis'.ine. 
 
 .Salmon. 
 
 Sparta. 
 
 Phineas. 
 
 Salu. 
 
 Stagyrite. 
 
 Phcenicia, 
 ^ = 
 
 Samaria. 
 
 Stoic.
 
 V. 
 
 452 
 
 Stromboli. 
 Suez. 
 
 Switzerland. 
 Syracuse. 
 
 Tacitus. 
 
 Tadmor. 
 
 Talmud. 
 
 Tamar. 
 
 Tarn muz. 
 
 Tartarus. 
 
 Tartary. 
 
 Telemachus. 
 
 Tell. 
 
 Tellus. 
 
 Tetrarch. 
 
 Teucer. 
 
 Thais. 
 
 Thales. 
 
 Thebais. 
 
 Thebes. 
 
 Themis. 
 
 Theocritus. 
 
 Thermopylae. 
 
 Theseus. 
 
 Thibet. 
 
 Tiberius. 
 
 TibuUus, 
 
 ALPHABETICAL LIST ETC. 
 
 Timour. 
 
 Titan. 
 
 Titus. 
 
 Torquemad: 
 
 Trappist. 
 
 Troy. 
 
 Tubal-cain. 
 
 Turkey. 
 
 Tuscany. 
 
 Tyre. 
 
 Tyrtzeus. 
 
 Ucal. 
 
 Ulysses. 
 
 Una. 
 
 Ural. 
 
 Urania. 
 
 Uranus. 
 
 Ursa. 
 
 Vashti. 
 
 Vaucluse. 
 
 Venus. 
 
 Vespasian. 
 
 Vesuvius. 
 
 Villiers. 
 
 Virgu. 
 
 Vishnu. 
 Vulcan. 
 
 Wady. 
 
 Wahabees 
 
 Wallace. 
 
 Walton. 
 
 Warwick. 
 
 Wesley. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 Xanthus- 
 
 Xantippe. 
 
 Xavier. 
 
 Xenophon. 
 
 Xerxes. 
 
 Vakeh. 
 Yucatan. 
 
 Zamzummim 
 
 Zealand. 
 
 Zcno. 
 
 Zion. 
 
 Zoar. 
 
 Zoilus. 
 
 ZorobabeL 
 
 4*-
 
 ALPHABETICAL LIST 
 
 OF THE 
 
 CONTENTS OP THE FOUR SERIES COMPLETE. 
 
 Animals, The future of 
 Anticipation . 
 Authorship 
 
 Beauty 
 
 Bible, The . 
 
 Book's Story, This 
 
 Cheerfulness . 
 
 Circumstance . 
 
 Commendation 
 
 Compensation 
 
 Consummation, The 
 
 Contentment 
 
 Creeds 
 
 Cruelty to Animals 
 
 Curious Questions 
 
 Death . 
 Delay 
 
 SERIES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 3 
 
 323 
 
 I 
 
 7 
 
 2 
 
 150 
 
 2 
 
 167 
 
 4 
 
 355 
 
 4 
 
 349 
 
 2 
 
 . . 138 
 
 3 
 
 277 
 
 I 
 
 9S 
 
 I 
 
 13 
 
 4 
 
 441 
 
 2 
 
 200 
 
 3 
 
 320 
 
 I 
 
 108 
 
 4 
 
 . 387 
 
 2 
 
 209 
 
 4 
 
 403
 
 ^ 
 
 
 •1 
 
 454 ALPHABETICAL LIST OF CONTENTS. 
 
 
 TITLE. 
 
 SERIES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 
 Dirge, National .... 
 
 Discretion 
 
 Dream of Ambition 
 
 3 
 I 
 I 
 
 337 
 
 63 
 
 24 
 
 : 
 
 
 Economy 
 
 Education 
 
 End 
 
 Estimating Character 
 Experience .... 
 
 4 
 I 
 
 2 
 I 
 I 
 
 419 
 
 120 
 262 
 
 44 
 42 
 
 
 
 Faith 
 
 Fame 
 
 Final ..... 
 Flattery . . . 
 Fourfold differences 
 Friendship .... 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 2 
 
 4 
 I 
 
 240 
 179 
 345 
 186 
 
 . 381 
 no 
 
 
 
 Gifts 
 
 Good in things evil 
 Great and small 
 
 2 
 
 I 
 
 4 
 
 . 163 
 
 53 
 405 
 
 
 
 Habit 
 
 Happiness together or alone . 
 
 Hatred and Anger 
 
 Hidden uses 
 
 Home .... 
 
 Honesty .... 
 
 Humility .... 
 
 Hymn, National 
 
 4 
 
 "> 
 .) 
 
 J 
 I 
 
 4 
 
 2 
 I 
 
 3 
 
 418 
 
 331 
 
 52 
 
 9 
 
 . 361 
 
 247 
 
 37 
 
 335 
 
 
 
 Ideas 
 
 Immortality .... 
 
 Indirect influences 
 
 Industry and Idleness 
 
 Innocence and Guilt 
 
 Introductoiy 
 
 Invention .... 
 
 2 
 I 
 
 4 
 
 2 
 I 
 
 231 
 215 
 
 17 
 
 420 
 
 270 
 
 . 136 
 
 94 
 
 > 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 Joy 
 
 I 
 
 133 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 -» 
 
 %
 
 fe- 
 
 ALPHABETICAL LIST OF CONTENTS. 
 
 455 
 
 Life 
 
 Life's end 
 Life's lessons 
 Life's work 
 Livelihoods 
 Lord's Prayer 
 Love 
 
 Man's date upon Earth 
 
 Marriage 
 
 Memory 
 
 Morals, Smaller 
 
 Mystery 
 
 Names . 
 Neglect . 
 
 Opening 
 
 Prayer 
 
 Preamble 
 
 Prefatory 
 
 Pride 
 
 Probabilities 
 
 Providences, Little 
 
 Psalm, National 
 
 Reading 
 
 Real and Ideal 
 
 Recreation 
 
 Religion, Train of . 
 
 Representation 
 
 Rest 
 
 Rhyme and Rhythm 
 
 Ridicule 
 
 Scripture and Science 
 Self-acquaintance . 
 Selfishness 
 Seven Sayings 
 
 2 
 4 
 4 
 4 
 4 
 I 
 I 
 
 4 
 I 
 
 2 
 
 I 
 
 3 
 I 
 I 
 
 3 
 3 
 3 
 
 4 
 I 
 I 
 
 4 
 I 
 
 3 
 I 
 
 3 
 I 
 
 4 
 
 204 
 438 
 430 
 425 
 376 
 61 
 114 
 
 395 
 116 
 
 21 
 
 309 
 156 
 
 234 
 193 
 
 347 
 
 58 
 
 267 
 
 I 
 
 41 
 286 
 
 304 
 339 
 
 85 
 
 415 
 68 
 
 71 
 
 423 
 35 
 
 312 
 96 
 
 289 
 102 
 408 
 341
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 4S6 ALPHABETICAL LIST OF CONTENTS. 
 
 
 
 
 
 TITLE. SERIES. 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 
 
 Silence ....... 3 . 
 
 
 292 
 
 
 
 Slander . 
 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 411 
 
 
 
 Sleep 
 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 401 
 
 
 
 Social Pride . 
 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 367 
 
 
 
 Society . 
 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 252 
 
 
 
 Solitude . 
 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 259 
 
 
 
 Sorrow . 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 132 
 
 
 
 Speaking 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 81 
 
 
 
 Spiritual Presences 
 
 
 3 
 
 
 
 295 
 
 
 
 Starry Heavens 
 
 
 '1 
 
 
 
 
 280 
 
 
 
 Subjection 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 26 
 
 
 
 Success . 
 
 
 '> 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 307 
 
 
 
 Things . 
 
 1   • 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 238 
 
 
 
 Thinking 
 
 • 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 76 
 
 
 
 Time 
 
 • t 
 
 '> 
 
 J 
 
 
 
 301 
 
 
 
 To-day . 
 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 145 
 
 
 
 Tolerance 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 129 
 
 
 
 To-morrow 
 
 
 7. 
 
 
 
 148 
 
 
 
 Travel 
 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 372 
 
 
 
 Trifles . 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 65 
 
 
 
 Trinity . 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 73 
 
 
 
 Truth in Things False . 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 Wealth 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 89 
 
 
 
 Words of Wisdom , 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 
 
 Writing ..... 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 87 
 
 
 
 World's Age .... 
 
 
 
 274 
 
 
 
 Yesterday .... . 2 . 
 
 
 142 
 
 
 
 Zoilism ...... ^ . 
 
 • 
 
 3M 
 
 
 
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