/r^ 7 w/^, /^///^. TUPPER'S COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS: CONTAINXNO •PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY," "A THOUSAND LINES," • ' H A C T E N U S , " ♦ ' r, E R A L D I N E , " AND ♦•IMISCELLANEOUS POEMS:" WITH A PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR. TH^''% ^ ■ olTY J NEW EDITION, _^^^ BOSTON: PHILLIPS. SAMPSON, AND COMPANY, 1857. CONTENTS. ^53 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. FIRST SERIES. Prefatory, The Words of Wisdom, Page. 9 11 Of Recreation, The Train of Religion, 64 67 Of Truth in Things False- 12 Of a Trinity, 68 Of Anticipation, Of Hidden Uses, 15 16 Of Thinking, Of Speaking, 71 75 Of Compensation, Of Indirect Liiiuences, 19 23 Of Reading, Of Writing, 78 80 Of Memory, 26 Of Wealth, 82 Thi Dream of Ambition, 29 Of Invention, 86 Of Subjection, 30 Of Ridicule, 88 Of Rest, 37 Of Commendation, 89 Of Humility, Of Pride, 39 42 Of Self- Acquaintance, Of Cruelty to Animals, 92 97 Of Experience, Of Estimating Character, 43 45 Of Friendship, Of Love, 99 102 Of Hatred and Anger, 51 Of Marriage, 104 Of Good in Things Evil, 52 Of Education, 107 Of Prayer, 56 Of Tolerance, 114 The Lord's Prayer, 59 Of Sorrow, 117 Of Discretion, 60 Of Joy, 118 Of Trifles, 62 Notes, 121 SECOND SERIES. ^introductory. Of Cheerfulness, 129 131 Of Authorship, Of Mvstery, 141 146 Of Yesterday, 134 Of Gifts, 152 Of To-day, 137 Of Beauty, 156 Of To- Morrow, 139 Of Fame, 166 1 n o o O 1 4 CONTENTS. Paije. Of Flattery, 172 Of Things, Of Neglect, 178 Of Faith, Of Contentment, 184 Of Honesty, Of Life, 188 Of Society, Of Death, 193 Of Solitude, Of Iniuiortality, 198 The End, Of Ideas, 212 Notes, Of Names, 215 218 221 226 231 237 239 245 A THOUSAND LINES. Prologue, 253 Sloth, 254 Activity, 255 Adventure, 256 llie Song of Sixteen, 257 Fortv, 258 The Song of Seventy, 259 Nature's Nobleman, 231 Never Give Up, 262 The Sun, 262 The Moon, 263 The Stars (L), 263 The Stars (IL), 264 Forgive and Forget, 264 My Mind to Me a Kingdom is, 266 Tarring Church, 275 Sonnet, on a Birth, 275 Duty, 276 Counsel, 276 Home, 277 Byegones, 277 Rule Britannia, 278 The Emigrant Ship, 280 The Assurance of Horace, 281 The Assurance of Ovid, 282 Post-Letters, 282 Society, 284 On an Infant, 285 Epilogue, 286 HACTENUS: 8X7NDRY OF MY LYRICS HITHERTO. The New Year, 289 All's for the Best, 290 The Kiddle Head, 291 Old Haunts, 293 The liattle of Roleia, 293 Kctrospect, 298 Peace and Quietness, 297 The Early Gallop, 298 Ascot: June 3, 1847 — When Hero Won, 299 Life, 300 Waterloo, 300 ** Arc You a Great Reader ? " 307 The Verdict, 308 Guernscv, 308 All's Right. 309 The Complaint of an Ancient Briton, 309 Farley Heath, 311 Wisdom, 313 The Heart's Husband, 314 Prophets, 315 Wheat- Corn, and Chaff, 315 The Happy Man, 316 Heraldic, 317 The True Epicure, 318 Thrcnos, 318 The Dead, 320 To America, 323 The Thanks of Parliament to Wellington and his Army, 325 Pain, 327 CONTENTS. 6 Page. Page. Three Versions of Adrian's The TTianksgiving Hymn and Apostrophe, 327 Chant, 339 No Surrender, 328 M. T., 342 Never Mind, 329 Two Psalms, 342 The Cromlech Du Tus, Confession, 344 Guernsey, 330 A Song, 345 A Family Picture, 332 Cheer IJp, 346 Postscript, 334 " Together," 346 Errata, an Author's Complaint, 335 Friends, 347 Impromptu, 33-5 A Greeting, 348 Venus, 336 Horace's Philosophy, 348 " The Warm Young Heart," 337 " The Last Time," 849 A Consecration, 338 The Poet's Wealth, 351 GERALDINE, AND OTHER POEMS. Preface, Oeraldine, Part I., 355 359 Geraldine, — Part H., 367 Geraldine, — Part III., 377 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Imagination, 389 The Crisis, 419 The Song of an Alpine Elf, 393 Charity, 419 Dreams, 395 Sonnet, 421 Infant Christ, with a Wreath The Forsaken, 421 of Flowers, 396 The Stammerer's Complaint 422 Past, Present, and Future, 397 Benevolence, 425 On a Bulbous Root, 398 A Cabinet of Fossils, 428 Cruelty. 401 The ]\Iast of the Victory, 431 Children, 404 An Inquiry concerning fx Sonnet to ]My Book, 406 Souls of Brutes, 433 To the Same, 406 The Chamois-Hunter, 437 Sonnet, 407 Nature, 440 Monsieur D'Alvernon, 407 Art, 440 Wisdom's Wish, 409 Cheerfulness, 441 The Mother's Lament, 411 Malice, 441 Trust, 412 The Happy Home, 442 Flowers, 413 The Wretched Home, 442 Wedding Gifts, 414 Theory, 443 Marriage, 415 Practice, 443 A Glimpse of Paradise, 416 Riches, 444 A Debt of Love, 416 Poverty, 444 To Little Ellen, 417 Light, 445- On the Birth of Little J Mary, 417 Darkness, 445 Days Gone By, 4i8 Poetry, 446 CONTENTS. Page 3Pa^ Prose, 446 INIatter 453 Friendship, Constrained 447 T.ife, 454 Enmity, Compelled, 447 Death, 454 Philanthropic, 448 Ellen Gray, 455 Misantliropic, 448 The African Desert, 460 Country, 449 The Suttees, 467 Town, 449 A Carmen Saectdare for Chris- ^^'orklly and Wealthy, 450 tian England, 472 \^'isc and Worthy, 450 A Prayer for the Land, 475 Libcrahty, 451 Labor, 477 Meanness, 451 "What is a Poet?" 480 Ancient, 452 " Ye Thirty Noble Nations," 481 Modern, 452 Courage, 486 Soirit. 453 Conclusion, 487- PnoVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. FIRST SERIEa PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. PREFATORY. PHO^iGHTa, that have tarried in my mind, and peopled its inner chambers. The sober children of reason, or desultory train of fancy ; Clear running wine of conviction, with tlie scum and the lees of specu- lation ; Com 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 ; The fruits I have gathered of prudence, the ripened harvest of my musings, These commend I unto thee, O docile scholar of Wisdom, I'hese 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 fi antly forth dark sayings as of old ? Sweet is the virgin honey, though the wild uee have stored it in a reed ; And bright the jewelled band, that circleth an Ethiop's arm ; Pure are the grains of gold in the turbid stream of Ganges, And 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 togetiier ; To meanest matters will I stoop, for mean is the lot of mortal: r will rise to noblest themes, for the soul hath an heritage of glory : 1* \ 10 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. The passions of puny man ; the majestic characters of God ; The feverish shadows 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 S3rmpathy ! 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 unwdtting error, And charity not be a stranger at the board that is spread for brothere. 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. They be chance pearls, flung among the rocks by the sullen waters of Oblivion. Which Diligence loveth to gather, and hang round the neck of Memory ; Tliey 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, wliich 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. Y^et more, for the half is not said, of their might, and dignity, and value , For Uve-ginng be they and glorious, redolent of sanctity and heaven : As tlie 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 Immortality 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, lo\ing 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 gray 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 cannot sho\i their peers : 1-2 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. They be grains of the diamond sand, the radiant floor of heaven, Rising in sunny dust behind the chariot of God ; Tiicy be flaslies of tlie day-spring from on high, siied from the windows of the skies ; They be streams of hving waters, fresh from the fountain of Intelligence : Such and so precious, are the words which the hps of Wisdom utter. For tliese shall guide thee well, and guard thee on thy way ; And wanting all beside, with these shalt thou be rich : Tliough all around be woe, these shall make thee happy ; Though all within be pain, these shall bring thee health ; 1^'hy 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 modes' Cowardice riseth into caution, rashness is sobered into courage ; The wrathful spirit, rendering a reason, standeth justified in angor The idle hand hath fair excuse, propping the thoughtful forehead. Life shall have no labyrinth but Ihy 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 fellojys 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 RROR is a hardy plant ; it flourisheth in every soil : n the heart of the wise and good, alike wilh tlie wicked and foolish; For there is no error so crooked, but it hatli in it some lines of truth; Nor is any poison so deadly, that it serveth not some wholesome use : And tlie just man, enamoured of the right, is blinded by the speciousnesa of wrong. And the prudent, perceiving an advantage, is content to overlook the harm. On all things created remaineth the half-effaced signature of God, OF TRUTH IN THINGS FALSE. 13 Som( what of fair and good, though blotted by the finger of corruption . And if error cometh in Hke a flood, it mixeth with streams of truth. And the Adversary lovetli to have it so, for thereby many are decoyed. Providence is dark in its pennissions ; 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 hia righteousness, And those who thirst for independence, are suffered to drink of disappoint- ment. Wherefore ? — to prove and humble them ; and to teach the idolaters of truth, That it is but the ladder unto Him, on whom only they should trust. There is truth in the wildest scheme that imaginative heat hath engen dered. And a man may gather somewhat from the crudest theories of fancy : The alchemist laboiireth 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 tliere be very spirits of evil, and what if they come at his bidding ; He is a bold bad man who dareth to tamper w^ith the dead ; For their whereabout lieth in a mystery — that vestibule leading to Eternity, The waiting-room for unclad ghosts, before the presence-chamber of their King : Mmd may act upon mind, though bodies be far divided ; For the Ufe 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, while the green wood around it is un- warmed. The dog may have a spirit as well as his brutal master ; A spirit to hve in happiness ; for why should he be robbed of his existence ? Hath he not a conscience of evil, a gUmmer 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 bhss, to compensate for unjust suffering. Spam 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 tliat spring from the Dead Sea's cursed shore : But within are they dust and ashes, and the liand tliat plucked them shall me it. ' 14 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. A frequent f imilar effect argueth a constant cause : Vet who hath counted the links that bind an oinen to its issue ? Who hatli expounded the law that rendereth calamities gregarious, Pressing down with yet more woes the heavy-laden mourner ? Who knoweth wherefore a monsoon should swell the saUs of the prosper- ous, Blithely speeding on their course the children of good luck ? Who hath companioned a vision from the horn or ivory gate, (*) yJT met an other'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 presentiment, 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, Uttle hast thou learnt of truth in things most true, How therefore shall thy blindness wot of truth in things most false ? Thou hast not yet perceived the causes of hfe or motion ; How then canst thou define the subtle sympathies of mind ? For the spirit, sharpest and strongest when disease hath rent the body. Hath welcomed kindred spirits in nightly visitations, Or learnt from restless ghosts dark secrets of the living, And helped slow justice to her prey by the dreadful teaching of a dream. Verily, there is nothing so true, that the damps of error have not warp< ed it; Verily, there is nothing so false, that a sparkle of truth is not in it. For the enemy, the father of Ues, 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 in 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 prowUng 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 iiis panoply of error in but a distortion of tlie truth : OF ANTICIPATION. li» The sickle that once reaped righteousness, beaten i^om 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. 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 evi. ; And though calamities have crossed thee, and misery been heaped on thf head, Yet ills that never happened, have chiefly made thee wretched. The sting of pain and the edge of pleasure arc 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. A man too careful of danger liveth 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 sanguine 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 w^ooed 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 tlie 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 came, be courageous ; face it, and conquer thy calamity. 16 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Tl^ere is not an enemy so stout as to storm and take the fortress of the mind, Unless its infinnity turn traitor, and Fear unbar the gates. The valiant standeth as a rock, and the billows break upon liim , The timorous is a 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 but a braggart, that provoketh and will not fight ; Or the feint of a subtle fencer, who measureth his thrust elsewhere : Or perchance a blessing in a masque, sent to try thy trust, The precious smiting of a friend, whose frowns are all in love : Often the storm threateneth, but is driven to other climes, Aiid the weak hath quailed in fear, while the firm hath been glad in his confidence. OF HIDDEN USES. Th£ 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 hcedest not its use, nor knowest the virtues thereof. And herein, as thou walkest by the sea, shall weeds be a type and an earnest (3f 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, Wor tlie willow lent its bark, nor the nightshade its vanquished poison ; OF HIDDEN USES. 11 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, N( r the multitude of fruits and flowers, ministered to life and luxury; Even so, there be virtues yet unknown in the wasted foliage of the elm, In the sun-dried harebell of the downs, and the hyacinth drinking in the meadow, 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 dielh in a day. Nor the sculptured crest of the fir, unseen but by the stars ; And the meanest weed of the garden serveth unto many uses, The salt tamarisk, and juicv flasr, the frprkled orchis, and the daisy. The world may laugn at famine when forest-trees yield bread. When acorns give out fragrant drink, (*) and the sap of the linden is aa fatness : For every green herb, 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 comers of contrivance, Often from the dark recesses picking out bright seeds of truth : Knowledge hath clipped the Ughtning's wings, and mewed it up for a purpose. Training to some domestic task the fiery bird of heaven ; Tamed is the spirit of the stonn, 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, counteth up vain reckonings, Fearing to be jostled and starved out, by the too prolific increase of hia 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 I And for aught thou canst tell, there may be a thousand methods Of comforting thy limbs in warmth, though thou kindle not a spark. 18 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Fear not, son of man, for thyself nor thy seed : — with a multitude is plenty 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 relresheth 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, the general use of all things ; Yet hath she specially for each its microscopic purpose : ' There is use in the prisoned air, that swellelh the pods of the laburnum ; Design in the venomed thorns, that sentinel the leaves of the nettle ; A final cause for the aromatic gum, tnat congeal etli 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 indolence, Or the pestilence never swept away an unknown curse from among men ? Would ye crush the buzzing myriads that float on the breath of the evening ? Would ye trample the creatures of God that people the rotting fruit ? Would ye suffer no mildew forest to stain the unhealthy wall. Nor a noisome savour to exhale from the pool that breedeth disease ? Pain is useful unto man, for it teacheth him to guard his life. And tlie 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 tliine eye, if it see not just aptitude in all things ; O, frozen is thy heart, if it glow not with gratitude for all things . In the perfect circle of creation not an atom could be spared, From earth's magnetic zone to the bindweed round a hawthorn. "to" The sage, and the beetle at his feet, hath each a ministration to perform ; The brier 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 cartliaualie that rendeth « continent ; OF COMPENSATION. IS The moonbeam 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 w^ood-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 considereth it Hghtly ; For Power hath ordained nothing which Economy saw not needful. All things being are essential to the vast ubiquity of God ; Neilner is tixere ont cmng overmucn, nor Ireea trom nonourable 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 gUmpses 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 a 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 the whole creation. Man doeth one thing at once, nor can he think two thoughts together ; But God compasseth all things, mantling the globe like air : And we render homage to His wisdom, seeing use in all His creatures, For, perhance, the universe would die, were not all things as they are. -'N/N/V^. v^wvrN/vo.— 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 childisli man may be taught the shallowness of earthly enjoyment. WTierefore, 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 raa^ choose or refuse the cup his wisdom mixeth. 30 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. The poor man rejoiceth at his toil, ana his daily bread 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 f There is a limit to enjoyment, though the sources of wealth be boundlo^e And the choicest pleasures of Ufe 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, thong , atheTn escape puiiisnmenl, If the stripes of earned misfortune overtake him in his sin ? Wlierefore not endure 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 blessings from afflictions : Bethink thee, wherefore were they sent ? and hath not use blunted thetr keeness ? 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 tliee 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. Th** poor man counteth not the cost at which such wealth hath been pur- chased ; Me would be on the mountain's top without the toil and travail of the climbing. OF COMPENSATION. 31 But equity demandecn recompense ; for high-place, cahunny and care ; Por state, comfortless splendour eating out the heart of home ; For warrior fame, dangers and death ; for a name among the learned, a spirit overstrained ; Fo/ honour of all kinds, the goad of ambition ; on every acquirement, the tax of anxiety. He that would change with another, must take the cup as it is mixea : Poverty, with largeness of heart ; or a full purse, with a sordid spirit : Wisdom, in an aiUng 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 discovei Unmin^ ed good or evil, to quicken his envy or abhorrence. A bold man or a fool must he be, who would change Ws 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 wliich 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 piirpose ; The warm and gushing bliss that floodeth all the thoughts of the religious- Many a beggar at the cross-way, or gray-haired shepherd on the plain. Hath more of the end of all wealth, than hundreds who multiply the means. Moreover, a moral compensation reacheth to the secrecy of thought ; For if thou wilt think evil of thy neighbour, soon shalt thou have him for thy foe 22 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. And yet he may know nothing of the cause that maketh thee distasteful to his soul, — The cause of unkind suspicion, for which thou hast thy punishment : And if thou think of him in charity, wishing or praying for his weal, He 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 ^f 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 bliss, 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 content ? And the deaf ear listeneth within to the silent music of the heart. There is evil poured upon the earth from the overflowings of corruption,— Sickness, and poverty, and pain, and guilt, and madness, and sorrow ; But, as the water from a fountain riseth and sinketh to its level. Ceaselessly toileth justice to equaUze the lots of men : For, habit, and hope, and ignorance, and the being but one of a multitude Ajid strength of reason in the sage, and dulness of feeling in the fool, And the light elasticity of courage, and the calm resignat'on of meekness And the stout endurance of decision, and the weak carelessness of apathy And helpt 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 flesn, and cordials for the spirit^ ( — Short of the insuperable barrier dividing innocence from guilt, — ) Qo far to level all tilings, by the gracious rule of Compensation. OF INDIRECT INFLUENCES. 23 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 Jleard not a lion in his den, but fashion the secret pitfall, So shalt thou conquer the strong, thyself triiunphing in weakness. The hurricane rageth fiercely, and the promontory standeth in its might, Breasting the artillery of heaven, as darts glance from the crocodile ; 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 argument. 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 argument, Or seem not consistent with thyself, or fail in thy direct purpose. The mind that went 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 barefaced accusation would be too ridiculous for calumny : 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 stonus, 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 : 94 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY, Hast thou hated, and not learned that tny silent scorn Doth deeper aggravate thy foe than loud-cursing malice ? — A wise wise man prevaileth in power, for he screeneth his battering engine^ But a fool tilteth headlong, and his adversary is aware. Belwld 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 sliine with rapture on a ruin, Would have looked with half their wonder on the perfect pile ? •* 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 cavemed in the living rock Hath more of majesty and force, than if upon a marble pedestal. 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 n'lte 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 mayest solve, The fair ideas, coyly peeping Hke young loves out of roses. The quaint arabesque conceptions, half cherub and half flower. The hght analogy, or deep allusion, trusted to thy learning. The confidence implied in thy skill to unravel meaning mysteries ? For .deas 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, Coinetl. ilie mind with that scene sharper than fifty summers. A worldly man boasteth in tiis pride that there is no power but of money . And he judgeth the characterB of men by the differing measures of the-> means: OF INDIRECT INFLUENCES. U He stealeth all goodly names, as worth, and value, and substance. Which be the ancient heritage of Virtue, but such an one ascribeth unto Wealtli: He spumetli the needy sage, whose wisdom hath enriched nations, 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-stnngs, It is nought unto such an one but sounds, whereby some earn their hv-ing; The poem, and the picture, and the statue, to him seem idle baubles. Which wealth condescendeth to favour, to gain liim the name of patron. But little wotteth he the niight of the means his folly despiseth ; He considereth not tiiat 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 tilled 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 carcass and is glad, though his soul be faint and famished, And the dull brute power of tlie 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 actioraj For the being that is master of liimself, bendeth events to his will. But a slave to selfish passion is the wavering creature of circumstance. To this man temptation is a poison, to that man it acldeth vigour ; And each may render to himself influences good or evil. As thou directest the power, harm or advantage will follow ; And the torrent that swept the valley, may be led to turn a mill ; The wild electric flash, that could have kindled comets. May by the ductile wire give ease to an ailing child. ; For outward matter or event, fashion not the character within. But each man, vielding 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. 2 26 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHy. A. low name is a thom in the side, that hindereth the footman in liis run ning; But a name a 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 scorneth nothing, be it never so small or homely, For he knowetli not the secret laws that may bind it to great effects. The world in its boyhood was credulous, and dreaded the vengeance of the stars. We world in its dotage is not wiser, fearing not the influence of small things : Ha»-«is govern not the soul, nor guide the destinies of man, Bui tii>^es» lighter than straws, are levers in the building up of character. A man h&A the tiller in his hand, and may steer against the current. Or may gliac? down idly with the stream, till his vessel founder in the whirl pool. OF MEMORY. Where art thou, storehouse of the mind, garner of facts and fancies,^- fn what strange firmament are laid the beams of thine airy chambers ? Or art thou that small cavern, (') the centre of the rolling brain, W.^ere 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 ghidly rescued from the littleness, the narrow closet of a self, •Fhe privileged soul hath large access,-coniing in the livery of learning ? live we as isolated wo 'Ids, 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 lire ? Memory ma^ be but a oower of coming to the treasury of Fact, OF MEMORY. STT A momentary self-desertion, an absence in spirit from tlie now, An actual coursing hither and thither, by the mind, slipped from its lea3h, 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, wondrous, and fearful. Were I at Petra, could I not declare. My soul hath been here before me ? Am 1 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, tliat 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 Athens and Rome, PersepoHs and Sparta, am I not a freeman of you all ? And chiefly can my yearning heart forget thee, O Jerusalem ? For tiie strong magic of conception, mingled witli the fumes of memory, Giveth me a life in all past time, yea, and addeth substance to the future. Be ye my ju-dges, 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 tremb- ling. 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 dolpliin in the waters ; A cask running out ; a bottomless chasm : such is wisdctu without memory. There be many wise, who cannot store their knowledge ; Yet from them,belves are they satisfied, for the fountain is within • 28 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. There be many who store, but have no wisdom of their own, Lumbering tlicir armory Avith weapons their muscles cannot Uft - Tliere 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 com, Nor clog with chaff and straw the threshing-floor of reason, Reap the ideas, and house them well ; but leave the words high stubble, 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 merchandise 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 peP« spective ; 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 : Wliiles it spinneth there is Hght ; 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 l)nt the flitting moment wherein to hope or to enjoy, But in the calendar of memory, that moment is all time. THE DREAM OF iSMBITION. 39 THE DREAM OF AMBITION. / I LEFT the happ^ 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 ; (tlien I guessed it was a dream, — j But Hfe is oft so like a dream, we know not where we are.) ' So I toiled on, doubting in myself, up a steep gravel cliif. Whose yellow summit shot up far uito 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 Uke a dream, we know not where we are.) So I stood on the mountain, and behold ! before me a giant p3n:umid. 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 tliis 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 sUence, 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 li\ing thing, still rushed my mighty throi.e, Tbmidering along, and pounding, as it went, the millions ir. my way: Beiore me all was life, and jov^ and full-blown summer. r,n PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Behind me death and woe, the desert and simoom. Then 1 wept and shrieked aloud, for pity and for fear ; But niifrht not stop, for, comet-Uke, flew on the maddened mass Over the crashing cities, and falling obelisks and towers, And coliunns, razed as by a scythe, and higli doomes, sliivered as an shell, And deep embattled ranks, and women, crowded in the streets, 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 lushed 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 !" 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 there was 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 thi 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 obedience : His perfedior 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, tha' *he evil hath he left unto another, OF SUBJECTION. .31 And that dark other hath usurped the evil which OmDi'^otence laid iown. Unto God there exist impossibilities ; for the True One cannot lie, Nor the Wise One wander from the track which he hath determinad 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 suborvlination of his Essence, self-guided unto holiness ; A.nd 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 camiot reach nor fathom them. And ever must he speak in paradox, when labouring to expoimd his God ; For, behold, God is Alone, mighty in unshackled freedom ; And with those wondrous Persons abidetli eternal equality. So men. siart ye from the fountain and follow the river of existence. For its current is bounded throughout by the banks of just subordination • Thrones, and dominions, and powers, Archangels, Cherubim and Seraphim. Angels, and flaming ministers, and breathing chariots and harps. For tliere are degrees in hesven, and varied capabilities of bliss. And steps in the ladder of intelligence, and ranks in approaches to Per- fection : Doubtless, reverence is given, as their due, to the masters in v/isdom ; 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 surnamed Order ; (*) Where is there an atom out of place ? or a particle that yieldeth not obo» dience ? 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 hiiks are perfect » But he standeth solitary sin, a marvel of perm-tted chaos. And shall this seemincj error in the scale of due subordination Be a spot of desert unreclaimed, in the midst of the vineyard of the Lord t 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 is free . thou art bound in the trammels of dependence SS PROVERBIAL PHIL DSOPHY. What is the sum of thy duty, but obedience to righteous rule, To tlie 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 againest 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 that 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, Towaid whom a good man's loyalty floweth from the hearts of his religion, Thou, whose deep responsibilities are fathomed by a nation's prayers. Whom wise men fear for while they live, and envy thee nothing but thy virtues. From thy dizzy pinnacle of greatness, remember thou also art a subject. And the throne of thine eartlily glory is itself but the footstool of thy God. The homage thy kingdoms yield thee, regard thou as yielded unto Him ; 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, W hose deep-dug roots are twisted around the stout ribs of the globe. That mocketh at tlie fury of the storm, and rejoiceth in summer sunshine, Glad in tne smiles of heaven, and great in the stabi'ity of earth. A ruler hath not power for himself, neither is liis pomp for his pride ; But beneatli the ennine of his ojffice should he wear the rough haircloth of humility. Nevertheless, every way obey him, so thou break not a higher command ment; For Nero wai an evil king, yet Paul prescribeth subjection. If the rulers ( f a nation be holy, the Lord hath blessed that nation ; If they be le^vd and impious, chastisement hath come upon that people. For the bitterest scourge of a land is ungodUness in them that govern it, And the fi^uilt of tlie sons of Josiah drove Israel weeping into Babylon. OF SUBJECTION. 3i Vet be Oioii resolute against them, if they change the mandates of thy Grod, If they tench the ark of his covenant, wherein all liis mercies are en« shrined : Be resolute, but not rebellious ; lest thou 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 mu=t be obeyed before God, the martyrs have bled in vain: Yet none of that blessed army reviled the rulers of the land ; They were loud and bold against the sin, but bent before tha ensign oi authority. Honesty, scorning compromise, walketh most suitably with Reverence ; 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 from Gar Man, thou hast a social spirit, and art deeply indebted to thy kind : Therefore claim not all thy rights ; but yield, for thine own advantage. Society is a chain of obligations, and its links must support each other : The branch cannot 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 wilder- ness: Better to be vilest of the ^^le, in the hated company of men. Than to live a solitary wretch, dreading and wanting all tilings ; Better to be chained to thy labour, in the dusky thoroughfares of life, Than to reign monarcli of Sloth, in lonesome savage freedom. \Vhence then cometh the doctrine that all should be equal and free ? — It is the lie that crowded hell, when Seraphs flung away subjection. No man is his neighbour's equal, for no two minds are similar. And accidents, alike with qualities, have every shade but sameness : The lightest atom of difference shaU destroy the nice balance of equality AurJ all things, from without and from witlvD, make one man to differ from another. 2* 34 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. We are equal and free ! was the watchword that spirited the legions of Satan, We are equal and free ! is the double lie that entrappeth to him conscripts from eartli : The messengers of tliat dark despot will pander to thy license and thy T^ride, And draw thee from the crowd where thou art safe, to seize thee in tho solitary desert. Woe unto hmi 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 miiverse acquitteth thee with honour, fighting in defence of thy king. If a thief break thy dwelHng, and thou take him, it were sin in thee to let him go ; Yea, though he pleadeth to thy mercy, thou canst not spare hmi and he blameless ; For his guilt is not only against thee, it is not thy moneys or thy mer- chandise. But he hath done damage to the law, wliich 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 chaui of Providence 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 liai^ denod ? Remember the Roman fiither, strong in his stem integrity. And let not tiiy slothful self-indnlgence make thee a conniver atthecTima. Al-^o, if the knife of the murderer be raised against thee or thJ.ie, OF SUBJECTION. 35. Ai-d through good Providence and courage, thou slay liim that would have slain thee, Thou losest not a tittle of thy rectitude, having executed sudden justice ; Still mayst tho" 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 Phinjas 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 defence ; But first be convinced in thy mind : for herein the doubter sinneth. Above all things look thou well around, if indeed stem duty forceth thee To draw the sword of justice, and stain it with the slaughter of tliy 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 way, 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 children of the mighty. Thou that despisest the outward forms, beware thou lose not the inward spirit ; 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 Alexander; rhe tigress roused in the jungle by the prying spaniels of tlic fowler, Will quail at the eye of man, so he assert his dignity ; it PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Nay, the very ships, those giant swans breasting the ighty 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 travcUing 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 SuMying 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 perhance some fiercer spirit, of natural nobility of mind. That needed but the kmdness of constraint to have grown up great and good, ^^ow, — the rich harvest of his heart choked by unweuded tgrar-, — All bold to dare and do, unchecked by wholesome fear, A scoffer about bigotry and priestcraft, a rebel against gov^riipeTZt hac. iWl And standard-bearer of the turbulent, leading on the sons i. f Bfijx.u : Such an one is king of that small state, head tyrant of the t'lirtv. 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 handy-work ; The mother, heart-stricken years agone, hath dropped into an ea'^* f^*'* 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 Ms 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 fainily a small Idngdom ; And the government of wnole 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 blessiig to that house ; OF REST. 37 But and if he yieldeth up the reins, it is weak in discordant anarchy, j And the bonds of love aud 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 not from within : But the meanness of temporizing fear robbeth a kingdom of its honour, And the weakness of mdulgent sloth ravageth its bowels with discord. 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 fatlier of Cathay : Therefore, to this our day, the Rechabite wanteth not a man, (*•) But they stand before the Lord, forsaking not the mandate of their sire. Therefore shall Magog among the nations arise from his northern lair, And rend, in the fury of his power, the insurgent world beneath liim : For the thunderbolt of concentrated strength can be hurled by the will of one^ While tlie di&sipated forces of many are harmless as summer Ughtning. OF REST. (") In the silent watches of the night, calm night that breedeth thoughts, ( *) When the task-weary mind disporteth in the careless play-hours of slc«p, 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-flo\ving cataract. Then I noted adders in the gras^ and pitfalls uhder 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 allui mgly 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. Ijo I tracked those subtle chains, and each held one among the multitude • 38 PROVERBIAL FM^LOSOFHY. Tlien I undersjtood what iniidcred, that liiey rested not in their jiath : For the fisher had sport in his fishing, nnd drew in his lines coniinuaijy, And the new-bom babe, and the aged man, were dragged into that dark river : And lie pulled all those myriads along, and none might rest by the way Till many, for sheer wearinsss were aager 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 tliither side spread out a calm and silent shore, Where all was ti'anquil as a sleep, and the crowded strand was quiet : ^ And I saw there many I had known, but their eyes glared chillingly 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, wh'^re spirits held theii Sabbath, And it seemed they would have told me much, but they might not breat that silence ; For the law of their being was mystery ; they glided on, hushing as thej went. Yet further, under the sun, at the roots of purple mountains, I noted a blaze of glory, as the night-fires on nortliem skies ; And I heard the hum of joy, as it were a sea of melody ; And far as tlie 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 spUt asunder, and a crater ya^vned 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 hfe, like reptiles bred in corruption, Where all was terrible unrest, shrieks and groans and thunder. Bo I woke, and I thought upon my dream : for it seemed of vidsdom'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 cared uot 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 iiis fate. So he hopeth to have peace in old age, as he cannot rest in manhood, But troubles thicken with his years, till Death hath dogged him to the grave. OF HUMILITY. 39 TLv^e remaineth a rest for the spirit on the shadowy side of life ; But unto this world's pilgrim no rest for the sole of his foot. Ever, from stage to stage, he traveleth wearily forward, And though he pjuck flowers by the way, 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 Intelligence : And though it be stopped in its flowmg, yet hath it a current witliin, The surface may sleep unrulfled, but underneath are whirlpools of con tention. 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 irmnortal ? — hope not to find it in Heaven, • For sloth yieldeth not happiness ; tlie bliss of a spirit is action. Rest dwellcth only on an island in the midst of the ocean of existence, Where the world-weary soul for a -.vhile may fold its tired wings, Until, after short sutflcient slumber, it is quickened unto deathless energy And speedeth in eagle-flight to the Sun of unapproachable perfection. 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 agamst the bravery of harlots. With timid tears and retiring looks of an artless seeming maid ; And indolent Apathy, sleepily ashamed of his dull lack-lustre face, Is glad of the livery of meakness, that charitable cloak and cowl ; And Hatred hideth his demon frown beneath a gentle mask ; \nd Slander, snake-like, creepeth m the dust, thinking to escape recrim- ination. But tlie world hath gained somewhat from its years, and is quick to pen©* t*ate disDfmses : 40 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Neitner in all these is it easily deceived, but rightly divideth the true from the ftilse. Yet tliore 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 clioler is not roused by insolence, neither do injuries disturb it : Honest indignation is strange unto its breast, and just reproof unto its lip. I- shrinketh, looking fearfully on men, fawning at the feet of the greai"; The breath of calumny is sweet unto its ear, and it courteth the rod o persecution. But M^hat ! art thou not a man, deputed chief of the creation ? x\rt thou not a soldier of the right, militant for God and good ? SI) all 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 tliine ; But wherefore rebuke not a liar ? wherefore do dishonour to thyself? Wiierefore let the evil triumph, when the just and the right are on thy side ? Such Humility is abject, it lacketh the life of sensibihty, And that resignation is but mock, where the burden is not felt : Suspect thyself and thy meekness : thou art mean and indifferent to sie; And the heart that should grieve and forgive, is case-hardened and forgetteli Humility mainly becometh the converse of man w4th his Maker, But oftentimes it seemeth out of place in the intercourse of man with man Yet, it is the cringer to his equal, that is chiefly seen bold to his God, VVliile a martyr, whom a world cannot browbeat, 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. 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 ; Bat yield not further to the teaching, than as thy mind is warranted by reasons. Botttr i? an obstinate disputant, that yieldeth inch by inch. Than the shallow traitor to himself, who surrendereth to half an argument Modesty winneth good report, but scorn cometh close upon servility ; OP HUMILITY. 4. therefore use meekness with discretion, casting not pearls beforo swine» For a fool will tread upon thy neck, if he seeth tliee Mng in the dust ; And there be coPxipanies and seasons where resolute bearing* is but duty. [f 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 humility 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 Jiath a timorous grasp, and mistaketh it for tenderness 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 and cowardice. A Christian hatli a royal spirit, and noed not be ashamed but unto One : Among just men walketh he softly, but the world 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 their tingling ears ; It is born of love and wisdom, and is worthy of all honour. And the sweet persuasion of its smiL} 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 subtracts th from his friends, For he holdeth liimself 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 jione 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 calletn Wortn iier 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, Aiio would prosper in either world ; ^nd the mild light of her s'^eet '"ace is mirrored in the eves of her com- panions, 42 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. And i?tTaiohtAvay stand they accepted, children of penitence and love. As when t!ie blind nan'is nigh unto a rose, its sweetnes is the herald of its beauty, So when thou savourcst humility, be sure thou art nigh unto merit. A gitt rcjoiceth 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, for she giveth Him occasion tfl bestow. OF PRIDE. Deep is the sea, and deep is hell, but Pride mineth deeper ; It is coiled cs 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 betray eth itself to entrap thee, Making thee vain of thy self-knowledge ; proud of thy discoveries of pridt 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 tilings of the heart, thou shalt learn to be vain of its capacities, But in viewing the heights above thee, thou shalt be taught thy littleness : t 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. A-nd all things hang upon comparison ; to the greater, great is small : Neither is there any thing so vile, but somewhat yet is viler : On all sides is there an infinity : the culprit at the gallows hath his worsQ And the virgin martyr at the stake need not look far for a better. Therefore see thou that thine aim reacheth unto higher than thyself : Be ^are that the standard of thy soul wave from the loftiest battlement Fo. pride is a pestilent meteor, flitting on the marshes of corruption, Thiit will lure Ihee forward to thy death, if thou seek to track it to ItJ source ; OF EXPERIENCE. 4* Pride is a gloomy bow, arching the infernal firmament, That will lead thee on, if thou wilt hunt it, even to the dwelling of despair Deep Ccilleth unto deep, and mountain overtoppeth mountain. And still slialt thou fathom to no end tlie deptli antl the height of pride ; For it is the vast ambition of the soul, warped to an idle 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 tlie sacred salt of hospitality : For pride will lie dormant in thy heart, to snatch its secret opportunity. 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 liis arm. But be wiser, fighting 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 tliee as a subtle reptile. Mark, amid all his transformations, the complicate deceitfulness of pride. And the more he striveth to elude thee, bind him tlie closer in thy toils. Prayer is the net that snareth Mm ; prayer is the fetter that holdeth him : Tliou canst not nourish pride, while waiting as an almsman on thy God, — < Waiting in sincerity and trust, or pride shall meet thee e\ en 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 tliy graces will fade and perish utterly. OF EXPERIENCE. KNEW that age was enriched with the hard-earned wages of knowledge, And I saw that hoary wisdom was bred in the school of disappointment : noted that the wisest of youth, though provident and cautious of evil, Yet sailed along unsteadily, as lacking some ballast of the mind : A nd the cause seemed to lie in this, that while they considered around them. And warded ofi* all dangers from without, they forgat their own weakness within. So stfier they in self-confidence, until, from the multitude of perils, 44 PROVERBIAi^ FilILOSOPIIY. Tliey begin to be wary of themselves, and learn the first lesaon of Exj^crience. I knew that in the mominor of life, before its wearisome journey, Tiie 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 its feelings : Each feature is stiimped 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 ot 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 manliood, bitterly learned, Mistrusteth all, overleaping the mark ; and age correcteth Ms 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 pyramid, The scaffold is torn down, and well-timed trust taketh its long leave of suspicion. 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-headod prejudice exulteth, in combating old experience; Or perchance caprice and discontent are the spurs that goad lis into danger Careless, and half in hope to find there an enemy to joust with. Private experience is an unsafe teacher, for we rarely leam both R'des, OF ESTIMATING CHARACTER. to And from the gilt surface reckon not on steel beneath : The torrid sons of Guuiea 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; H thou wilt suspect, let it be thyself ; if thou wilt expect, M it not be gladness. OF ESTIMATING CHARACTER. RashlVj 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 blindfold 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 providence ; And count not a man more evil because he is more unfortunate ; For the blessings of a better covenant lie not hi the sunshme of prosperity; But pain and chastisement the ratlier show the wise Father's love. Behold that daughter of the world ; she is full of gaiety and gladne^^s ; The 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 standeth in the wavs as Raha Yet in the secret of her chamber, she shrinketh not from dalhance and guilt. She careth not if there be a God, or a soul, or a time of retribution ; Pleasura is the idol of her heart: she tliirsteth for no purer liCLvea. And sh3 laugheth with Ught good humour, and aU men praise I^er gentle* less ; I 46 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY They are glad in her lovely smile, and the river of her bounty fiUeth them. So she prospered in the world : the worship and desire of thousands , And she died even as slie 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 i She abused the trust of her splendour : and the wages of her sin shall hi hereafter. Look again on this fair gn-l, the orphan of a village pastor Who is dead, and hath left her his all, — his blessing, and a name unstained ; 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 cliild 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 nowhere to flee to • She is cared for by none upon earth, and her God seemeth to forsake her. Then cometli, in fair show, the promise, and the feint of affection. And her heart, long unused to kindness, remembereth her father, and lovelh. And the villain hatli wronged her trust, and mocked, and flung her from him. And men point at her and laugh : and women hate her as an outcast : But elsewhere, far other judgment seateth her — among the mart3rrs ! 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 enterprise and wisdom ! But if it fall out against thee, and thou fail in thy perilous endeavour. Behold, the simple did sow, and hatli reantd the right harvest of his folly : And the world will be glaldly accused, noi will reach out a finger to help ; For why should this speculative dullard bo a whirlpool to all around hiin ? Go to, lot him sink by himself: we knew what the end of it would be :— For the man hath missed his mark, and liis fellows look no furtlier OF ESTIMATING CHARACTER. 4? Arso, touching guilt and innocence : a man shall walk in his uprightness^ Vear after year without reDroach, 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 liim, — ^till he knoweth not whithei to fly. Perchance his famishing little ones shall scream in his ears for bread, And, maddene^ by that fierce cry, he rusneth as a thief upon the world : The world that hath left him to starve, itself wallowing in plenty, — The world, that denieth liim his rights, — he daringly robbeth it of them. I say not, such an one is innocent : but, small is the measure of his guilt To tliat of liis wealthly neighbour, who would not help him at his need ; To that of the selfish epicure, who turned away with coldness from lud tale ; To that of unsuflfering thousands, who look with complacence on his fall. Or perchance the continual dropping of the venomed words of spite, Insult and injury and scorn, have galled and pierced his heart ; Yet, with all long-suflering and meekness, he forgivetih unto seventy times seven : Till, in some weaker moment, tempted beyond endurance. He striketh, more in anger tlian in hate ; and, alas ! for his heavy chance He hath smitten unto instant death his spiteful, Ufe-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, witli forethought malice ; And his name is a note of execration ; his guilt is too black for devils. But to the righteous Judge, seemeth he the suffering victim : For his anger was not unlawful, but became him as a Christian and 3 man; And though his guilt was grievous when he struck tr^at heavy bitter blow, Yet light is the sin of the smiter, and verily kicketh the beam, To the weight of that man's ^\^ckedness, whose slow le/entless hatred Met him at every turn, with patient continuance in evil. Doubtless, eternal wrath shall be heaped upon that spiteful enemy. It is in vain, it is in vain, saith the preacher ; there be none but tlip rijr'^i; eous and the wicked. Base rebels, and stanch allies, the true knight, and the traitor ; And he beareth strong witness among men, There is no neutral g^o^wi. 48 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. 'Ihe broad highwa} 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 verily 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 1 There 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 sinneF. Over many a heart good and true, fluttereth the Great King's pennant : By many an iron hand, the pirate's black banner is unfurled : But there be many more besides, in the yacht and the trader and the fish- ing boat, In the feather'd war-canoe, and the quick mysterious gondola : And the army of that Great Bang hath no stated uniform ; Ot 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 daughter of Bai7.il, 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. Wlio 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 siiades of faith : In some it is as earliest dav^Ti, the scarce diluted darkness ; fn some as dubious twihght, cold and gray and gloomy ; fn seme 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 darkness ? Who shall pluck from earliest dawn the promise of the day ? fjeave 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 ; OF fiSTIMATIMG CHARACTER. 49 Often the generous heart, lit by unhallowed fire, Counted a brand among the burning, and left uncared-for, in liis gin: V^et 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 : Wiiile thou, tiard-visaged man, unlovely in thy strictness, Wlio turned from him thy sympathies with self-complacent pride, How art thou shamed by him ! his heart is a spring of love. While the drv well of thine affections is choked with secret mammon. Sometimes at a glance thou judgest well : years could add httie to thy 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 clear bright forehead of reflection. 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 witli passion Also, of the worst, through prejudice, thou loosely slialt think well : For none is altogether evil, and thou mayst catch him 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 tilings 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 tliou lookest on an eye, dim in native dulness, Litt]e shalt thou wot of the wealth diligence hath gathered *o its gaze ; Often the brow that should be bright with the dormant tire of genius, Within its ample halls, hath ignorance the tenant. \ et are not tlie sons of men cast as in moulds by the lot ? The like in frame and feature hath 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 ffindoth or niaketh for itself an apposite dwelling in the body : 3 50 PROVERBlAl. PHILOSOPHY. Accident may modify, circumstance may bevil, externals seem to change it, But 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 pet 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 nourisheth decision ; Jjove looketh softly from the eye, and kindleth love by looking ; Hate fuiToweth the brow, and a man may frovv'-n till he hatetli : 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 tilings than these, lying in the twilight of truth ; But few can discern them aright, from surrounding dimness of error. For perchance, ff thou knewest the whole, and largely with comprehensive mind Couldst read the history of character, the chequered story of a life, And into the great account, which sunimeth 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 womti. 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 prej)idices poured into his min-d, And the myriad little matters none but Omniscience can know. And accidents that steer the thoughts, where none but Ubiquity can trace them ; — J thou couldst compass all these, and the consequents flowing from them, And the scope to which tliey tend, and the necessary iitness of all thingSi Then shouldst thou see as He seeth, who judgetb all men equal, — Equal, touching innocence and guilt ; and different alone in this, That one acknowledgeth his evil, and looketh to his God for mercy ; Another boasteth of liis good, and calleth on his God for justice ; So He, that sendeth none away, is largely munificent to prayer, But, in the heait of presumption, sheatheth the sword of vengeance. OF HATRED AND ANGER. 5J OF HATRED AND ANGER. Blunted unto goodness is the heart which anger never stirretli, But that which hatred swelleth, is keen to carve out evil. Anger is a noble infinnity, *he generous failing of the just, The one degree that riseth above zeal, asserting the prerogatives of virtue But hatred is a slow continuing crime, a fire in tlie bad man's br-^ast, 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: Hatred is the atmosphere of hell ; but anger is known in heaven. Is there not a righteous wrath, an anger just and holy, When o;oodness 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 tliat hast accounted it for sin, cold is thy communion with heaven. Beware of the angry in his passion ; but fear not to approach him aflos^ ward ; For if thou acknowledge thine error, he himself will be sorry for his wratk Beware of the hater in his coolness ; 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 ilieth witi 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 \vith hatred Patience is power in a man, nerving him to rein his spirit: Passion is as palsy to his arm, while it yelleth on the coursers to the* speed : Patience keepetb counsel, and standetli in solid self-possession, But the weakness of sudden passion layeth bare the secrets of the soul. The sentiment of anger is not ill, when thou lookest on tlie impudence of vie© 52 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Or savourcst tlie breath of calumny, or hast earned the harJ wages of in« justice, But see thou that thou curb it in expression, rendering the mildness of rebuke, So shalt tliou stand without reproach, mailed in all the dignity of virtue. OF GOOD IN THINGS EVIL. I HEARD the man of sin r«=»proaching 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 combat with evil : Angels look on and hold their breath, burning to mingle in the conflict, 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 ia Enough. Thou art sad, O denizen of earth, for pains and diseases and death, But remember, thy hand hath earned them ; grudge not at the wages of thy doings : Thy guilt, and thy fathers' gui.t, must bring many sorrows in their company, And if thou wilt drink sweet poison, doubtless it shall rot thee to the core. Wlio 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, would raise the sable curtain, that hideth the symmetry of Providence. Pain and sin arc convicts, and toil in their fetters for good ; The weapons of evil are turned against itself, fighting under bottef banners : OF GOOD IN THINGS EVIL. 5d The leech delighteth in stinging, and the wicked lovetn to do harm, But the wise Physician of the universe useth that ill tendency for hecJth- Veriiy from others' griefs are gendered sympathy and kindness ; Patience, humility, and foith, 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 th\ 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 souJ, The good of one meek thought shall outweigh years of torment. Nevertheless, wretched man, if thy bad heart be hardened in the flame, Being earth-bom, 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 every thing 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 har- monies ? 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 meanr, ? What were power without an enemy ? or mercy without an object ? Or truth, where the false were impossible ? or love, where love were i debt ? The characters of God were but idle, if all things around him were per- fection, And virtues might slumber on like death, if they lacked the 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 progression in bliss : A realm of unqualified best were a stagnant pool of being, And the circle of absolute perfection, the abstract cipher of indolence. 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 j Sin is die traiior that hath dragged the majesty of mercy into action* 54 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Sin *s the whelming argument, to justify the attribute of vengeance. It is a deep dark thought, and needeth to be diligently studied, But pcrcluiiice evil was essential, that God should be seen of his creaturess For where perfection is not, there lacketh possible good, 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, He chargeth his angels with folly, and the heavens are not clean in His sight : [""or every existence in the universe hath either imperfection oi Godhead : A id the light that blazeth but in One, must be softened with shadow for the many. Tnere is then good in evil ; or none could have known his Maker ; No spiritual intellect or essence could have gazed on his high perfections, 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 soHtude of holiness. Vevertheless, O sinner, harden not thine heart in evil ; Sot plume thee in imaginary triumph, because thou art not valueless as vile ; Because tliy dark abominations add lustre to the charity of Light ; Because a wonder-working alchemy draineth elixir out of poisons ; Because the same fiery volcano that scorcheth and ravageth a continent. Hath in the broad blue bay cast up some petty island ; Because to the full demonstration of the qualities and accidents of good, The swartiiy 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. Yea, saith the Spirit ; and their works do follow them ; OF GOOD IN THINGS EVIL. bb Habits, and thoughts, and deeds, are shadows and satelHtes of self. What ! shall the claunant to a throne stand forward with a rabble rout, — Meanness, impiety, and lust ; riot and indolence and vanity ? Nay, man ! the train wherewith thou comest attend v/hither thou shalt go ; A throne for a king's son, but an inner dungeon for tlie felon. For a man's works do follow him : bodily, standing in the judgment, 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 unto which a man is bom, 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 tlie hermit from his cell. For that tiie obstacles in one outweigh the propensions in the other. Thei'e be, who have made themselves friends, yea, by um-ighteous mamiiion, — Friends, ready waiting as an escort to those everlasting habitations ; Embodied in li\liig witnesses, thronging to meet them in a cloud, Charity, meelaiess Hnd truth, zeal, sincerity and patience. There be, who have nxade themselves foes, yea. by honest gain. Foes, whose plamt 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 the 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 tiing around the naked ; But wrapping closer to their skin the poisoned tunic of their works, ■ They stand in self-dependence to perish in rtbai^donment of God. 5U PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY, OF PRAYER. \ WICKED man scorneth pra} er, in the shallow sopliistry of reason. He (ierideth the silly hope, that God can be moved by supplication :— Can the unchangeable be changed, or waver in his purpose ? Can tne weakness of pity affect him ? Should he turn at the bidding of a man ? Methonght he ruled all things, and ye called his decrees immutable, Bat if thus he listeneth to words, wherein is the firmness of liis 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 tlie promise of the Scripture is true : Yet was my soul in darkness, for his words were too hard for me ; Till 1 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 Je- hovan. And I saw sound argument was still the faithful friend of gcdUness -, For as the rock of the affections is the solid approval of reason. Even so the temple of ReUgion is founded on the basis of Philosophy. 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 : But who hath shown thee his purpose, who hath made known to tliee his will ? Wiien, O gainsayer, hast thou been schooled in the secrets of wisdom ? Fate is a creature of God, and all things move in their orbits, And that wliich shall surely happen is known unto him from eternity ; But as, in the field of nature, he useth the sinews of the ox, And commandoth diligence and toil, himself giving the increase, So, in the kingdom of his grace, granteth he omnipotence to prayer, For he knoweth what tliou wilt ask, and what thou wilt ask aright. OF PRAYER. 57 iVo man can pray in faith, whose prayer is not grounded on a promise : V et a ^ood man commendeth all things to the righteous wisdom of his God : For those who pray in faith, trust the immutable Jehovah, And they wh" ask blessings unproniised, lean on uncovenanted mercy. Man, 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 acceptance. Also, in pleading for others, be thankful for the fullness of thy prayer. For if tliou 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 \Wthout 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 tiiere is an economy of mercy, as of wisdom, and power, and means; Neither is one blessing granted, unbesought from the treasury of good : And the charitable heart of the Being, to depend upon whom is happiness, Never withholdeth 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 it* 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 mth thee. For man may take for his ally the Bang who ruleth kings ; How strong, yet how most weak, in utter poverty how rich, What possible omniiv^tence 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 balefires of decline, All droopingly she lieth, as a dew-laden lilv, Her flaxen tresses, rashly luxuriant, dank with unhealthy moisture : Hath not thy heart i aid of her, Alas ! poor child of weakness ? 3* 56 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. TIkdh 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 cataract, Sera])]nni nJly at her side, and the captain of that host is God, And the serried ranks of evil are routed by the hghtning of her eye ; She is the King's remembrancer, and steward of many blessings, Holding the buckler of security over her unthankful land ; For that weak fluttering heart is strong in faith assured, Dependence is her might, and behold — she prayeth. Angels are round tlie good man, to catch the incense of his prayers. And they fly to minister kindness to those for whom he pleadeth ; For the altar of his heart is lighted, and burnetii before God continually, And he breatheth, conscious of his joy, the native atmosphere of heaven , Yea, though poor, and comtemned, and ignorant of this world's wisdom , HI can his fellows spare him, though they know not 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 mortality. And offereth 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 notliing. Thus, O worshipper of reason, thou hast heard the sum of the matter • And woe to his hairy 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 ; Prayer is the magic sound that saith to Fate, So be it ; Prayer is the slender nerve that moveth the muscles of Omnipotence. Wherefore, pray, O creature, for many and great are thy wants ; Thy mind, thy conscience, and thy being, thy rights commend thee UD*a prayer. The cure of all cares, the grand panacea Ajr 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 he that sendeth the petition, to answer it according txD liia will. THE LORD'S PRAYER. 53 THE LORD'S PRAYER. InquiPwEST thou, O man, wherewithal may I come unto the Lord ? And with what wonder-working sounds may I move the majesty of heaven ? There is a model to thy hand ; upon that do thou frame thy supplication : "Wisdom hath measured its w^ords, and redemption urgetli tliee to use them. ( lall 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 ; Sl shall thy thoughts be liurabled, nor love be unmixed with reverence : Be My first petition unselfish, the honour of Him who made thee, And ihat in the depths of thy heart his memory be shrined in holiness : Pray for that blessed time when good shall trimnph 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 httle 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, tliou 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 breatheth on the confines of prayei 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 favoui I For the never-endinof tenn of thv «ared and bright existence. ; 60 PROVKRBIAL PHILOSC PHY. OF DISCRETION. For what then was I born ?— to fill the ch-cling year With daily 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 f— 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 Ufe. Is it to grow stronger in self-goveniment, to check the chafing will, To curb with tightening rein the mettled steeds of passion. To welcome 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 roadside flower, growing on the highways of Usefulness ; 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; He gocth full mailed in faith, and zeal is flaming ;it his heart. Yet one thing he lacketh, tfte 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 double stripes on the faint body of the victim : He is glad to give and to distribute ; and clamorous pauperism feasteth. While honest labour, pining, hidcth his sharp ribs : He challcngeth to a fair field that subtle giant Infidelity, OF DISOivETION. 61 And worsted in the unequal fight, «treiigtheneth the hands or error : He hasteth to teach and preach, as the wai -horse rnsheth to the battle, And to pave a way for truth, would break up the Apennines of prejudice : He wearieth by stale proofs, where none looked fur a reason, And to the listening ear will urge the false argument of feeling. So hath it often been, that, judging by results, The hf.ttest friends of truth have done her deadliest wrong. Alas ! for tliere are enemies without, glad enough to parley with a traitor And a zealot will let down tlie drawbridge, to prove his own prowess : Yea, from within will he break away a breach in the citadel of truth That he mav fill the gap, for fame, with his own weak body. Zeal without judi^ment 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 by an ill-judged thrusting-on. A vessel foundereth at sea, if a storm have unshipped the rudder ; And a mind with much sail shall require heavy ballast. Take a lever by the middle, thou shalt seem to prove it powerles;. Argue for truth indiscreetly, thou shalt toil for falsehood. There is plenty of room for a peaceable man in the most thi-onged assembly ; But a quarrelsome spirit is straitened in the open field : Many a teacher, lacking judgment, hindereth his ov,-n lessons : And the savoury mess of pottage is spoiled ay 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 youtti, 62 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPiir. Help thee to humour infirmities to wink at innocent errors, To take pmall count of forms, o 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 strengtiri, And tviii thee, the keystone of an arch can be loosened with least labou« 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 tliy life be useful, and thy young heart happy. 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 stupefieth 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 affect him ? — So he transg-resseth 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 grea things. And no swerving from a right line, that may not lead eternally astray. A landmark tree wa^ once a seed, and the dust in the balance maket> difiTerence ; 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 tliou, O man, and in trifles thou contendest with thine equals, For atoms must crowd upon atoms, ere crime growetli to be a giant. OF TRIFLES. 43 WTiat, 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, ir tiiou nourish in tliy hear tlie reveries of injury or passion, And travel in mental heat tlie mazy labpinths of guilt. And tJien conceive it possible, and then reflect on it as done. And use, by little and little, thyself to regard thyself a villain, long will crime be absent from the voice that doth invoke him to tn heart, ,„.^ bitterly wilt thou grieve, that tlie buds have ripened into poison. A spark is a molecule of matter, yet it may kindle the world ; Vast is the miglity 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 wealth : The walking tliis 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. All things are infinite in parts, and the moral is as the material, Neither is any thing 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 smishine 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 tlioms, 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 others. 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 wynaereth at no^ng hath no capabilities of bliss ; But he that scrutinizeth trifles hath a store of pleasure to his hand. If pestilence staJk through the land, ye say, This is God's doing; M PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. .s il not also His doing, when an apliis creej)eth on a rosse-bud ? — If an avalanche roll from its Alp, ye tremble at the will of Providence ; Is not that will concerned when the sear leaves fall from tne poplar ? — A thing is great or little only to a mortal's thinking, But abstracted from the body, all things are alike important : The Ancient of Days noteth in his book the idle converse of a creaturt And happy and wise is the man to whose thought existeth not a trifle. OF RECRE ATION. To join advantage to amusement, to gather profit with pleasure, Is the wise man's necessary aim, when he lieth in the shade of recre ation, For he cannot fling aside liis 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 the books of the library of God, And fitting for all seasons are the gain and the gladness they bestow : The volume of mystery and Grace, for the hour of deep communings, 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 vdsdom 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 liigh with sat- isfaction. The soul may not safoly dwell too long with the deep things of futurity ; The mind may not always be bent back, like the Parthian, straining at the pastrC'") 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 M^hich may profit and amuse is gathered from the volume ol creation. I OF RECREATION. lis For every chapter therein teemeth with the playfulness of wisdom. The elements of all tilings are the same, tliough nature hath mixed them with a difference, And Learning delightetli to discover the Jtffinity of seeming opposites : So out of great things and small draweth he the secrets of the universe, And argueth the cycles of the stars, from a pebhle flung by a a child. It is pleasant to note all plants, from the rush to the spreading cedar, From tlie 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 liis master's feet, and the milk-kme lowing in the meadow ; To trace the consummate skill that hath modelled the anatomy of insects, Small fowls tliat sun their wings on the petals of wild ilowers ; To learn a use in the beetle, and more than a beauty in the butterfly ; To recognize affection in a motli, and look with admiration on a spidei. It is glorious to gaze upon the firmament, and see from far the mansions of the blest, Each distant shining world, a kingdom for one of the redeemed ; To read tlie antique history of earth, stamped upon those medals iu the rocks Which Design hath rescued from decay, to tell of the green infancy -"f time ; To gather from the unconsidered shingle mottled star-like agates, Full of unstoried flowers m the bubbUng bloom-chalcedony : Or gay and curious shells, fretted with microscopic carving, Corallines, and fresh seaweeds, spreading forth their deUcate branches It is an admirable lore, to learn the cause in tlie 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-urdained laws of Jehovah, The harmony that filleth all his mind, the justice that tempereth hi* bounty, The wonderful all-prevalent analogy that testifieth one Creator, The broad arrow of the Great King, carved on aU the stores of liis arsena. But beware, O worshipper of God, tliou forget not him in his dealings, 66 FROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. 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 reli gion, Thy bark will miss her port, ai<| run upon the sandbar of folly : And if, enumoiired 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 the remembrance of God in the varied wonders of creation. Man hath found out inventions, to cheat him of the weariness of life. To hell) liim to forget realities, and hide the misery of guilt. For love of praise, and hope of gain, for passion and delusive happiness, He joineth the circle of folly, and heapeth on the fire of excitement ; Oftentimes sadly out of heart at the tiresome insipidity of pleasure. Oftentimes labouring in vain, convinced of the palpable deceit ; Yet a man speakcth to his brother, in the voice of glad congratulation, 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. Tlie 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. Whoso would find gladness may meet her in the hovel of poverty, Where 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 amusement ; But when thou prosperest in health, and thine intellect can soar untired, To seek uninstructive pleasure is to slumber on the couc.li of indolence. THE TRAIN OF RELIGION. THE TRAIN OF RELIGION. Sta-j awhile, thou blessed band, be entreated, daughters of heaven ! Willie 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 earth, 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 ? Whc' among flowers of lovehness 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, hke sisters of charity, tended in this world's hospital ; \Velcome, 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 vrhere the eye was too dull to note it ; And art thou too among the blessed, mild, much injured Poetry ? Who quickenest with Hght and beauty the leaden face of matter, Wlio not unlieard, 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 \vine, to cheer and uphold my soulj When wearied, battling with the surge, the stunning surge of life : Of thee, for w^ell have I loved thee, of thee may I ask in hope, W^ho among the glorious is she, that walketh a Goddess and a Queen 1 And who that fair-haired herald, and who that weeping saint ? And who that mighty warrior, and who that solemn sage ? Sou happy art thou that AVisdom hath led thee hitherward; 68 PROVERBIAL PIIILOSOPHVT. For, otherwise never hadst thou knowoi the joy-giving name of our Qjueen. Behold her, the life of men, the anchor of their shipwrecked hopes : Behold lier, the shepherdess of souls, who hringeth back the wanderers ta God. And for that modest herald, she is named on earth. Humility: And hast thou not known, my son. tlie 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, Wlio rejoice to be counted servants in the train of a Queen so glorious. But for her name, son of man, it is strange to the language of heaven, For those who have never fallen need not and may not learn it : Liegcance we sware to our God, and liegeance well have we kept ; It is only the band of the redeemed who can tell thee the fullness of that name; (") Yet will I comfort thee, my son, for the love wlierewith 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 bear aful 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 prcrocratives of Ge«d}ica 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 outhne, infinite in minute perfection ; Nature is the chart of God, mapping out all his attributes; Art is the shadow of his viasdom, and copieth his resources. Thou knowest the laws of matter to be emanations of his will. And thy best reason for aught is this, — thou. Lord, would have it so. Yea, what is any law but an absolute decree of God ? Or the properties of matter and mind, but the arbitraiy fiats of Jebnva* ' 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 exceed 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 every thing is needful. Canst thou measure Omnipotence, canst thou conceive Ubiquity, Which guideth the meanest reptile, and quickeneth the brightest f^v^'^h Which steereth the particles of dust, and commandeth the path oi tbt comet ? To Him all things are equal, for all things are necessary. The smith is weary at his forge, and weldeth the metal carelessly, And the anchor breaketh in its bed, and the vessel foundereth with hei crew : A word of anger is muttered, engendering the midnight murder : OF THINKING 73 Tlie sun bursteth from a cloud, and maddeneth the toiling husbandman. 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 t 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 circumstmce k) Him; Yet know surely, and believe the truth, that God willeth not evil : For adversities are blessings in disguise, and wickedness the Lord a horreth : 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 '? For he made not his own mind, nor is he the scource of contrivance. If a cunning workman maketh an engine that fasliioneth curious works, Which hath the praise, the macliine 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 underst;mding creature, Will not pay deeper homage to the Maker of master minds ? C Hherwise, thou art senseless as the pagan, that adoreth his jwn handi^ work ; Yea, while tiiou boastest of thy wisdom, thy mind is as ilio mind of the savage. For he boweth down to his idols, and thou art a worshipper of self, Giving to the reasoning macliine the credit due to its Creator. The keystone of thy mind, to give thy thoughts solidity, To bind them as in an arch, to fix them as a world in its sphere, Is to learn from the book of the Lord, to drink from the well of his wisdom. Wlio can condense the sun, or analyze the fullness of the Bible, So that its ideas be gathered, and the harvest of its wisdom be brought in V 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 nil* believing : 74 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. A scomer si all find nothing but the husks, wherewith to feed his iiungei But for the soul of the simple, it is plenty of full-ripe wheat. The Scripture abideth the same in the sober majesty of truth ; And the differing aspects of its teaching proceed from diversity in mindw. 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, Tliis is the way, walk ye surely in it. Religion taketh by the hand the humble pupil of repentance, And teacheth him lessons of mystery, solving the questions of doubt; he maketh man worthy of himself, of his high prerogative of reason rhreadeth all the labyrinths of thought, and leadeth him to his God. (./omo hither, child of meditation, upon whose high fair forehead Glittereth the star of mind in its unearthly lustre. Hast thou noiaght 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 oi reflection, Glad in its conscious immortality, leaveth a 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, \nd sinketh down wounded as a gladiator on the sand, AHiile the keen falchion of Intellect is cuttinof through the scabbard ot *H«i brain. Imagination, like a shadowy giant looming on the twilight of the Ilartz, Shall overwhelm Judgment with affright, and scare him from his throne : In a dream thou mayst be mad, and feel the fire wntliin thee ; In a dream thou mayst travel out of self, and see thee with the eyes of another ; Or sleep in thine om n corpse ; or wake as in manv bodies : OF SPEAKING. tS Or swell, as expanded to infinity ; or shrink, as imprisoned to a point ; Or among moss-grown ruins may wander with the sullen disembodied, And gaz"* upon their glassy eyes until thy heart-blood freeze. Alone must thou stand, O man ! alone at the bar of judgment ; Alone must thou bear thy sentence, alone must thou answer for thy deeda ; Therefore it is well thou retirest often to secrecy and solitude. To feel that thou art accountiible separately from thy fellows : For a crowd hideth truth from the eyes, society drowneth tliought, And, being but one among many, stifleth the chidings of conscience. Solitude bringetlj 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 mayst know if it be well with a man, — loveth he gayety 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 hi.^^ heart, and he talketh within him as with friends : But guilt maddeneth the brain, and 'error glareth in the eye, Where, in his solitary cell, the malefactor Avrestleth with remorse. Give me but a lodge in tlie wildem-^ss, 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 h 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 tlou reasonest in thy dreams : In a dream thou mayst live a lifetim ), and all be forgotten in the mcTning''' Even such is life, and so soon perisheth its memorj'. '75/ 1-^ J^y^- OF SPEAKING Speech is the golden har\'est that followeth the flowering of thought ; lifet oftentimes runneth it to husk, and the grains be withered and scanty. Rj)eech, is reason's brother and a kingly prerogative of man, 76 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. That likenet! lim to his Maker, who spake, and it was done : Spirit ni;iy mingle with spirit, but sense reqiiircth a symbol ; And speech is the body of a thought, without which it were not seen. When thou walkcst, musing with thyself, in the green aisles of the forest, Jtter tiiy thinkings aloud, that they take a shape and being; For he that pondereth in silence crowdeth the storehouse of his mind, And tJKMigh he have heaped great riches, yet is he liindered in the using. A man that speaketh too little, and thinketh much and deeply, ^^orrodeth liis 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 liave I known the honest heart, flaming with indignant virtue. Provoke unneeded war by its rash ambassador, the tongue : Often have I seen tlie charitable man go so slyly on his mission, That those who met him ni 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 sympathy ; 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 comforting. No need to sound a trumpet, but less to hush a footfall : Do thou thy good openly, not as though the doing were a crime. {Secrecy goeth cowled, and Honesty demandeth. Wherefore ? For he judgeth, — ^judgeth he not well ? — ^that nothing need be hid but guilt ; Why shoUid thy good be evil spoken of through thine unrighteous silence "7 If thou art challenged, speak, and prove the good thou doest. The free example of benevolence, unobtruded, yet unbidden, Sonndeth in the ears of sloth. Go, and do thou hkewise : And I wot the hypocrite's sin to be of darker dye. Because the good man, fearing, thereby hideth his light : OF SPEAKING. 71 \ A neither God nor man hath bid thee cloak thy good, V - ii*?n a seasonable word would set thee in thy sphere, that all might see thy brightness. AiiLiibe the honour to thy Lord, but be thou jealous ^f tnat honour, Noi think il light and worthless, because thou mayst not wear it for tliyself : Ren. i'mber thy grand prerogative is free unshackled utterance. And sutler not the floodgates of secrecy 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 thernselves, and the fire bunieth 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 performance. And they stand impotent of words, travailing with unborn thoughts : Courage is cowed at the portal : wisdom is widowed of utterance ; He that went to comfort is pitied ; he that should rebuke, is silent. And fools who might Hsten and learn, stand by to look and laugh ; Wliile friends, with kinder eyes, woiaid deeper by compassion. And thought, finding not a vent, smouldereth, gnawing at the heart, And ths 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 , .\t is as lack of breath or bread : fife hath no grief more galling. Come, I will tell thee of a joy, which the parasites of pleasure have not knovv'n. Though earth, and air, and sea, have gorged all the appetites of sense. Behold, what fire is in his eye, what fervour on his cheek ! That glorious burst of winged words ! — how bound tbey from his tongue! The full expression of the mightv thought, the strong triumphant argu ment. 78 » ROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. The rush o^ 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 ! Champioip of the right, — patiiot, or priest, or pleader of the innocent cause, Upon whose lips the mystic bee hath droped the honey of persuasion, (^') Whose heart and tongue have been touched, as of old, by the live coal from the altar. How wide 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 spiritual hecatombs offered on the mount of God : And now a pause, a thrilling pause, — they hve but in 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 th)?- breath, their minds are passive unto thine, Thou turncst 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 th'-one thee with archangels. 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 b(M)k be mine : the friend let another take. For altered looks and Jealousies and fears have none entrance there : ITiG silent vohpuo listeneth well, and speaketh when thou Iistest : I JF READING. 79 t praiseth thy good without envy, it chideth thine evil without malice, t is to thee thy waiting slave, and thine unbending teacher. Need to humour no caprice, need to bear with no intirmity ; Thy sin, thy slander, or neglect, chilleth not, quencheth not, its love ; Unalterably speaketh it the truth, warped not by error nor interest ; For a good book is the best of friends, the same to-day and for 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 ; Choose discreetly, and well digest the volume most suited to thy case, Toui^hing not religion with levity, nor deep things when thou art wearied. Thy mind is freshened by morning air, grapple with science and phi losophy ; Noon haih unnerved thy tlioughts, dream for a while on fictions ; Gray evening sobereth thy spirit, walk thou then with worshippers ; But reason shall dig deepest in the night, and fancy iiy most free. O books, ye monuments of mind, concrete wnsdom 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 flaming sword ; Gentle comrades, kind advisers ; friends, comforts, treasures ; Helps, govenunents, diversities of tongues ; who can weigh your worth ? — To walk no longer with the jitet ; to be driven from the porch of science j To bid long adieu to those intimate ones, poets, philosophers, and teachers ; To see no record of the sympathies which bind tiiee in communion with the good ; To be thrust from the teet 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 ignor- ance : 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 the asnes of iU wisdoir BO PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. OF WRITING. Tjie pen of a ready writer, whereunto shall it be likened ? Ask of the sicholar, he shall know, — to the chains that bird 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 telleth my Ihougr^t* The merchant considereth it well, as a ship freighted with wares ; The divine holdeth it a miracle, giving utterance to the dumb. [t 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 profit, 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 argueth and maketh it immortal Yieldeth up its momentary self to every single thought ; Therefore, to husband thine ideas, and give them stability and substance Write often for thy 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 ; To prove that merchandise of words bringeth no monopoly of wisdom ; To take sweet vengeance on a prating crew, for the tongue's dishonour, ]Jy the largo 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. Pair ^rl, whose eye hath caught the rustic penmanship of love. OF WRITING. 8J Let thy bright bow and blushing cheek confess in this sweet hour,— liet thy fuii heart, poor pruilty one, whom the scroll of pardon hath just reached, — Thy wet glad face, O motner, with news of a far-off child, — Thy strong and manly delight, pilgrim of other shores, \Vlien 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, watcliing at deep midnight, he buildeth up the verse, — JLet the calm child of genius, whose name shall never die, For that the transcript of liis 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 by the desire of tlieir presence : Wlien the despairing lover waiteth day after day, Looking for a word in reply, one word writ by tliat hand. And cursing bitterly tlie morn ushered in by blank disappointment : Or wlien the long-looked-for-answer argueth a cooling friend. And the mind is plied suspiciously with dark inexplicable doubts, Wliile thy wounded heart counteth its imaginary scars. And thou art the innocent and injured, that friend the capricious /uid in fault : Or when the earnest petition, that craveth for thy needs Unheeded, yea, unopened, tortureth with starving delay : Or when the silence of a son, who would have written of his welfare, Racketh a father's bosom with sharp-cutting fears : For a letter, timely writ, is a rivet to the cham of affection. And a letter untimely delayed, is as rust to the soider. 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 should st thou ask my judgment of that which hath most profiv in the world. For answer take thou tliis. The prudent penning of a letter Tliou hast not lost an hour, whereof there is a record ; A written thought at midnight shall redeem the Uvelong day. 4* 82 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. [dea is a shadow that doparteth, speech is fleeting as the (vind, Reading is an unremembered pastime ; but a writing is eternal : For therein the dead heart Hvetli, 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 symbolled thoughts tell of a departed soul : The plastic hand hath its witness in a statue, and exactitude of vision in s picture, And so, tlie mind, that was among us, in its writings is embalmed. OF WEALTH. Prodigality hath a sister Meanness, his fixed antagonist heart-fellow, Wlio 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 she sloucheth at his gait, and his mouth speaketh loosely and maudlin. Let a spendthrift grow to be old, he will set his heart on saving, And labour to build up by penury that which extravagance threw 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 Independence . Give me enough, and not less, for want is leagued with the tempter ; Poverty shall make a man desperate, and hurry him ruthless into crime ; Give me enough, and not more, saving for the children of distress ; Wealth ofttimcs killeth, where want but hinderet i the budding : There is green glad summer near the pole, though brief and after long winter, But the burnt breasts of the torrid zone }aeld never Icndl)'^ nourishment. Wouldst tliou be poor, scatter to the rich, — and reap the tares of ingratitude; VVouldst thou be rich, give unto the poor ; — thou shalt 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; OF WEALTH. • 8.- 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 pi>or In the plain of Benares is there found a root that fathereth a forest, Wnere 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 flesb And the calm Brahmin worshippeth the sleek and pampered bull ; At the base lean jackalls coil, while from above depending 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 mino 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 godliness. And him, against whom passion hath no power, kneeling to a golden calt The hungry hounds of extortion are there, the bond, and the mortgage and the writ, Wliile the appetite for gold, unslumbering, watcheth to glut its maw :— And the heart, so tenanted and shaded, is cold to all things else ; [t 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 with iron. Content is the true riches, for without it there is no satisfying. But a ravenous all-devouring hunger gnavveth 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 , \nd many in hot pursuit have hasted to the goal of wealth, ut have lost, as they ran, those apples of gold, — the mind and the powa to enjoy it. There is no greater evil among men than a testament framed with injustice WTiere caprice hath guided the boon, or dishonesty refused what was due Generous is the robber on the highway, in the open daring of his guilt, To the secret coward, whose malice liveth and harmeth after him : B4 PROVERBIAL FHILOSOPIIY. VVlio smoothly sank into the tomb with the smile of fraud upon his face, And the lust black deed of his existence was injury without redress ; Fur deaf is the ear of the dead, and can hear no palliating reasons ; The smiter is not among the Hving, and Right j)leadeth but in vain. Yet shall the curse of the oppressed be as blight upon the grave of the unjust ; Yea, bitterly shall that handwriting testify against him at the judgment. I 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 friend, 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. For 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-mar-. ter's will Hath rewarded her toil with a jibe, her patience with utter destitution ! — Shall not the scourge of jvistice lash that cruel coward, Who mingled the gall of ingratitude with the bitterness of disappointment 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. But Hades rose as he came in, to point at him the finger of scorn ; And again must he meet that 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 with liar, And the crime of Ananias is branded on his brow ! A good man comnrendeth his cause to the one great Patron of innocence, Convinced of justice at the last, and sure of good meanwhile. OF WEALTH. 3ft tie kiioweth 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 maUce 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 wretchedness, So he walketh in strict 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 fulleth 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 ; 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 groaneth, like a door on rusty hinges. And the grasp of tlie mind is weakened, as the talons of a caged vultme 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 fiis. brother. B6 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. OF INVENTION. Man is proud of his mind, boasting that it giveth liim divinity, Vet with all its powers can it originate nothing : For the great God into all his works hath largely ponred 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 gOL 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 every thing 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 seeds withm themsexves. 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 limnor to his likeness ; The footmarks stamped in clay, lead on the thoughts to printing ; The strange skin garments cast upon the shore suggest another hemi- sphere : (^^) A falling apple taught the sage pervading gravitation ; The Huron is certain of his prey, from tracks upon the grass ; And shrewdness, guessing on 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 ; h hatli no beauty to boast of, no harvest of fair fruits : Bui 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, ^d efts, with muddy feet, bring their welcome tribute ; OF INVENTION. 87 \nd 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 dropt 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 brier, and ivy runneth green among the corn Lordly beeches are studded on the down, and willows crowd around th rivulet ; And the tall pine and hazel thicket shade the rambUng 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 miUion chances from without, By little and little acting on the mind, heap up the hotbed of society j 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 ; buXlh£-^eat sower is Analogy. There must be an acrid sloe before a luscious peach, A boll of rotting flax before the bridal veil, 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 Comparison. By culture man may do all things, short of the miracle, — Creation : 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 kneweth not increase, either of matter or spirit ; Atoms and thoughts are used again, mixing in varied combmations ; And though, by moulding them anew, thou makest them thine own, Vet have they served tliousands, and all their merit is of God. 88 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY OF RIDICULE. Seams of thought for the sage's brow, and laughing lines for the fooPa face ; For all things leave their track in the mind ; and the glass of the mind is faithful, eest thou much mirth upon the cheek ? there is then little exercise 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 hatli 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 ? There is indeed an evil in excess, and a field may he fallow too long ; Yet merriment is often as a froth, that mantleth on the strong mind : And note thou this for a verity, — the subtlest thinker when alone, From ease of thoughts unbent, will laugh the loudest with his fellows : And well is the loveliness of wisdom mirrored in a cheerful countenance ; Justly the deepest pools are proved by dimpling eddies ; For that a true pliilosophy commandeth an innocent life, And tlie unguilty spirit is Hghter 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 affection, The brow unwrinkled by a care, and the lip triumphant in its gladness. And for your grave-faced folly, need not far to look for her ; How seriously on trifles dote those leaden eyes. How ruefully she sigheth after chances long gone by. How sulkily she moarieth over evils without cure ! have known a true-born mirth, the child of innocence and wisdom, have seen a base-born gravity, mingled of ignorance and guilt : ^nd 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 woiuide(' partridge hideth in a furrow, and a stricken conscience would be left alone ; But when its breast is healed, it runneth gladly with its fellows : Whereas the solitary heron, standing in liie sedgy ten, OF COMMENDATION. 89 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, (^*) But neither wittily nor wisely ; for truth must prove ridicule : Otherwise a blunt bulrush is to pierce the proof armour of argument. 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 conscience 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 bum thee to the shoulder ; But grasp it with 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 forerunning 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 heaver Yet is it a dangerous hearing, for the sweetness may lull thee into slumbei And the cordial quaffed with thirst may generate the fumes of presumption 60 seek it not for itself, but taste, and go gladly on thy way, 90 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. For the manner slacketh not his sail, though the sandal-groves of Arabv allure him ; And the fragrance of that incense would harm thee, as when, on a sum- mer evening, The honied yellow flowers of the broom oppress thy charmed sense : And a man hath too much of praise, for he praiseth himself continually ; Neither lacketh he at any time self-commendation or excuse. Praise a fool, and slay him : for the canvas of his vanity is spread j His barlv 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 dehght 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 v/hose conscience alloweth it not : And where conscience feeleth it her due, no })raise is better than a little. He that despiseth the outward appearance, despiseth the esteem of his fellows ; And he that overmuch regardelh it, shall earn only their contempt : 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 rue : And is tbine 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 cloud?. Ally thee to truth and godliness, and use the talents in thy charge : So shalt tliou walk in peace, deserving, if not having. With a friend, praise him when thou canst ; for many a friendship hao> decayed. Like a plant in a crowded comer, for want of sunshine on its leaves : With another, praise him not often — otherwise he shall despise thee ; But bo thou frugal in commending; so will he give honour to thv judg- ment : (•'or thou that dost so zealously commend, art acknowledging thme own inferiority. OF COMMENDATION. 0) And he^ thou so higlily 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 hatli been praised. Better to be censured by a thousand fools, than reproved but by one man that is wise ; For the pious are slower to help right, than tlve 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 well as bo strict with an oifender ; The lalirel 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 of his chief. Timely given praise is even better than the merited rebuke of censure, For the smi is more needful to the plant than the knife that ciitteth out a canker ; Many a father hath erred, in that he hath withheld reproof. But more have mostly siimed, in withholding praise where it was due : There be many such as Eli among men ; but these be more culpable than Eli, W.io chill the fountain of exertion by the freezing looks of indifference : Ye call a man easy and good, yet he is as a two-edged sword ; He rebuketh 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 Icept back where it was hoped, separateth chief friends : For what is a gift but a symbol, giving substance to praise and esteem '^ And where is a sharper arrow than the sting of uimierited 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 bis stubbornness never shall acknowledge the good he hath taken from thy hand : Vea, rather will he turn and be thy foe, lest tliou gather from hife friendship y^ PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. 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 worthmess 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, — So shalt thou have a better praise, and reap a richer harvest of reward. If a man hold fast to thy creed, and 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 lieth 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-chestnut ia another ; A handle of smooth amber is pleasanter than rough buck-horn. Show me a popular man ; I can tell thee the secret of liis power ; He hath soothed them with glozing words, lulling 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 ? n fullness is his worth, in fullness be his praise ! OF SELF-ACQUAINTANCE. Knovitledge holdeth by the hilt, and heweth out a road to conquest ; Ignorance graspeth the blade, and is wounded by its own good sword : OF SELF-ACQUAINTANCE. 93 Knowledge distilleth nealth from the virulence of opposite poisons ; f jrnorance niixeth wholesomes unto the breeding of disease : Knowledge is leagued with the universe, and tindeth a friend in all things ; But ignorance is every where 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 th tether. Untaught in science he is but half alive, stupidly taking note of nothing, Or listening with dull wonder to the crafty saws of an empiric ; Simple in the world, he trusteth unto knaves ; and then to maire amends for folly, Uealeth so shrewdly with the honest, they camiot but suspect him for a thief; With an unknown God, he maketh mock of reason, fathering contrivance 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 crumbletli into sand, There is panic in the general's tent, the oak is hollow as hemlock ; Though the wann sap creepeth up its bark, lilling out the sheaf of leaves, Though knowledge of all thmgs 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 1 uxuriance 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 embrace : Manhood, through 7,cal of doing good, seeketh high place for its occasions, Unwitting that tlie 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 fair less, nlaiteth her raven nair, 94 PROVERBIAL PHlLOt^OPHY. Heedlessly weaving for her soul the silken net of vanity : The ^ray-beard looketh on his gold, till he loveth its yellow smile, Unconscious of the briglit decoy which is luring his heart unto avarice: Wrath avoideth no quarrel, jealousy counteth its suspicions, Pining envy gazeth still, and melancholy seoketh solitude : The sensb ive 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 indulgence, \nd 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 '^e thousands among men who heed not the leaning of their tal'jnts. But, cuttmg agamst the grain, toil on to no good end ; And the Ught of a thoughtful spirit is quenched beneath the bushel of commerce, Wliile 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 every thing a fitting place, a proper honourable use ; The humblest measure of mind is bright in its humble sphere : The glowworm, creeping in the hedge, lighteth her evening torch, And her far-off mate, on gossamer sail, steereth his course by that star : But ignorance mocketh at proprieties, bringing out the glowworm at noon» And setteth the faults of mediocrity in the full blaze of wisdom. Ravens croaking in darkness, and a skylark 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 : Ii: all things is there a fitness : discord with discord hath its music ; And the harmony of nature is preserved by each one knowing liis place. The blind at an easel, the palsied with a graver, the halt making for tha goal. The deaf ear tuning psaltery, the stammerer discoursing eloquence,— What wonder if all fail ? the shaft flieth wide of the mark. OF SELF-ACQUAINTANCE. 94 \like if its( .f be crooked, or the bow be strung awry ; And tlie 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 tha plough, Nor goad the toilsome ox to wager his slowness with the fleet : Consider thy failings, heed th,^' 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 opportunity ; The warrior armed shall be ready for the fray, beside his bridled steed ; Thou shalt ward off special harms, and have the sway of circumstance, And turn to thy special good the common current of events ; Choosing from the wardrobe of the world, thou shalt 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 learn one attribute 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 spUtteth 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 the lily and the rose ; 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 serv« 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, tlie cattle on a thousand hills Uve, and labour, and die : <6 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. lijghl is tJiy daily slave, darkness inviteth thee to slumber ; FJiou art serred by the hands of Beauty, and Sublimity kneeletli at thj f oet : Arise, thou sovereign of creation, and behold thy glory ! Yet more, thou hast a mind ; intellect wingeth thee to heaven, Terideth thy state on earth, and by it thou divest down to hell ; T'hou 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 to rush by at thy 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 envied freedom, But thou wast bom 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 t — How saidst thou, wretched being ? — cast thy glance within ; Regard that painted sepulchre, the hovel of thy heart. Ha ! with what fearful imagery swarnieth 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 orgi<^s of the drunken, Weak contemptible vanity, stubborn stolid unbelief, Envy's devilish sneer, and the vile features of ingratitude, — Man, hast tliou seen enough ? or are those full proof That thou art a mirncle of mercy, and all thy dipnity is dross? Well said the wisdom of eartli, O mortal, know thyself; But better the wisdom of heaven, O man, learn thou thy God : Hv Knowledge of self thou art conusant of evil, and mailed in panoply M meet il : OF CRUELTY TO ANIMA1.W. ^i By knowledge of Grod cometh knowledge of good, and universal love ia at tliy heart. Every creature knoweth its capacities, running in the road of instinct, 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 wise for right direction ; For self-knowledge tilleth 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 \vindeth in complicate deceivings : Thou canst not sound its depths with the shallow plumb-line of reason, Till religion, tlie pilot of the soul, have lent thee her unfatliomable coil : Therefore, for this grand knowledge, and knowledge is the parent of do minion. Learn God, thou shalt know thyself ; yea, and shalt have mastery of all tilings. OF CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. Shame upon thee, savage monarch-man, proud monopolist of reason ; Shame upon creation's lord, the fierce ensanguined despot : What, man ! are there not enough, hunger, and diseases, and fatigue,— And yet must thy goad or thy thong add another sorrow to existence ? What ! art thou not content thy sin hath dragged down suffering and death On the poor duir.b servants of thy comfort, and yet thou must rack them with thy spite ? The prodigal heir of creation hath gambled away his all, — Shall he add torment to the bondage, that is galling his forfeit serfs ? The leader in nature's paean himself hath marred her psaltery, hall he multiply the din of discord by overstraining all the strings ? riie rebel hath fortified his stronghold, 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 representative of Love, For very shame be merciful, be kind unto the creatures thou nast ruined ; fcLttrOi and her million tribes are cursed for thy sake ; 5 JH PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Kartli 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 ? ^-^om the elephant toiling at a launch, to the shrew-mouse in the harvest- field. From the wiiale which the harpooner hath stricken, to the minnow caught upon a pin. From the 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, 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 laboring ox at plough ; The speckled trout, basking in the shallow, and the partridge, gleaning in the stubble. And the stag at bay, and the worm 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 tliine by gift for thy needs, to be used in all gratitude and kind ness: Gratitude to their God and thine, — ^their Father and thy Father, Kindness to them who toil for tliee, 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 unto wratli, to turn aside the undeserved lash ; Tiie galled ox cannot complain, nor supplicate a moment's respite ; The spent horse hideth his distress, till he panteth out his spirit at tha goal; Also, in the winter of life, when worn by constant toil, If ingratitude forget his services, he cannot brmg them to remembrance : OF FRIENDSHIP. 99 iJehold, ne is faint with hunger ; the big tear standeth in his eye ; His skin is sore with stripes, and he tottereth beneath his burden ; Hig limbs are stiff with age, his sinews have lost their vigour. And pain is stamped upon his face, wliile he wrestleth unequally with toil Yet 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 liim ? no judge to avenge his wrongs ? 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 mdignation 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 bhght 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 rehance of thy friend. Flattery hideth her varnished face when 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 purpcse A man may be good to thee at times, and render thee mighty service, Whom yet thy secret soul could not desire as a friend ; For the sum of hfe is in trifles, and though, in the weightier masses, A man refuse thee not his purse, nay, his all in thine utmost need, \ et, if thou canst not feel that Iris character agreeth with thine own, Thou never wilt call him friend, though thou render liim a heart full oi gratitude. A coarse man grindeth harshly the finer feehngs of his brother ; lUO PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. A common mimi will soon de})art from the dull companionship of wisdom*, A weak soul daroth not to follow in the tracli of vigour and decision ; And the worldly regardeth with scorn the seeming foolishness of faith. A mountain is made up of atoms, and frier.dship of little matters, And if the atoms hold not together, the 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 unravelhng 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 thy esteem. He remembereth that thou art only man ; he expecteth not great things from thee ; And his forbearance toward thee silently teacheth thee to be considerate 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 corruptions 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. I hear the communing of friends ; ye speak out the fullness of your soulsv And being but men, as men, ye own to all the sympathies of manhood : (*•"> Confidence openeth the hps, indulgence beameth from the eye. The tongue loveth not boasting, the heart is made glad with kindness : And one standeth not as on a hill, beckoning to the other to foUow, 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, ^G listen to the voice of complaint, and whisper the language of comfort, And as in a double soUtude, ye think in each other's hearing. Choose tliv friend discreetly, and see thou consider his statioa, OF FRIENDSHIP- lOl For tne graduated scale ol ranks accordeth with the ordinance of iieaven 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 ? J ru&h among the lilies, be tiiught tliou art a weed ; ) brier 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 command. And yet, if thou wilt take my judgment, be shy of too much openness with any. Lest thou repent hereafter, should he turn and rend thee : For many an apostate friend 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 tiling 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 leach thy lesson by example ; For the vanity of man may be wounded, and retort unkindly upon thee There be &:;me that never had a friend, because they were gross and selfish ; Woi-ldliness, and apathy, and pride, leave not many that are worthy : But one who meriteth esteem, need never lack a friend ; or as thistle-down flieth abroad, and casteth its anchor in the soil, o philanthropy yeameth for a heart, where it may take root and blossom. Yet I hear the child of sensibility moaning at the wintry cold, Wlierein 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 briers of suspicion. 102 proverl;ial philosoppiy. For, alas, how few be friends, of whom charity hath hoped well ! How few there be amoncr men who forget themselves for dthers ! 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 sitteth at thy board ; But who can wonder at their flight from the cold denials of want ? Such be as vultures round a carcass, assembled together for the feast : But a eudden noise scaretli them, and forthwith are they specks among th clouds. There be few, O child of sensibility, who deserve to have thy confidence : 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 friend ship, \ et verily is the man a marvel whom truth can write a friend. OF LOVE. There 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 : [ts sun is tlie brightness of affection, and it bloometh in the borders o' Hope ; Its companions are gentle flowers, and the brier witheieth by its side. 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 thouglit some cliorub had planted there a truant flower of Eden, As a bird bringeth foreign seeds, that they may flourish in a kindiv s~'J I saw, and asked not its name ; I know no language was so wealthy Though every heart of every clime findeth its echo within. '^d yet what shall I say ? Is a sordid man capable of— Ltve "? OF LOVE. 104 Jts jii I e^educer known it ? Can an adulterer perceive it ? / Or he that seeketh strange women, can he feel its puritj'- ? / Or he that changeth often, can ho know its truth ? Longing for another'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 Rhinr> 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 millenniiun in a moment : j What consecrated joy or woe in blest or blighted love ! For it is that native poetry springing up mdigenous to Mind, The heart's own-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 ! Oh ! call thou snake-eyed malice mercy, call envy honest praise, Count selfish craft for wisdom, and coward treachery for prudence, Do homage to blaspheming unbeUef as to bold and free philosophy. And estimate the recklessness of license as the right attribute of liberty,- » But with the world, thou friend and scholar, stain not this pure name ; Nor suffer the 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 mattei, A.n angel-mind breathed into a mortal, though fallen, yet how beautiful ! A.11 the devotion of the heart in all its deptli and grandeur. Behold that pale geranium, pent within the cottage window ; How yearningly it stretcheth 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 lovetli ; and so the rose-tree of affection Bendeth its every leaf to look on those dear eyes, fts every blushing petal basketh in their hght, ind all its gladness, all its life, is hanging on their love. r the love of the heart is blighted, it buddeth not again ; / X '^ PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. If tliat pleasant sono^ is forgotten, it is to be learnt no more : Yet often will tliou^^ht look back, and weep over early affection ; ^Viid tJio dim notes of that pleasant song will be heard as a rep'oachfu! spirit, Moaning in ^Eolian 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 providence ; Yet ask not in bold confidence that which he hath not promised. Thou Iviiowest not his good-will : — be thy prayer then submissive there unto ; And leave thy petition to his mercy, assured tliat he will deal well with thee. If thou art to have a wife of thy youth, 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 touches them not . They grow up leaning on each other, as the olive and vine. Youth longeth for a kindred spirit, and yearneth for a heart that can com- mune 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 \vife 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 dis- cord : The eye, so brilliant at even, may be red with sor'*ow in the morning ; And the sylph-like form of elegance must writhe ui the crampings of pain. () happy lot, and hallowed, even as the joy of angels. Where the golden chain of godliness is entwined witli the roses of love : But beware, thou seem not to be holy, to win fa' our in the eyes of a crea ture. OF MARRIAGE. 10& For the giiilt 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 a 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 thy 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 — godlhiess, 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 ciouds. If the character within be geulie, it often hath its index in the countenance : The soft smile of a loving face is better tlian 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 reproacli thee not for tlieir being ; See that he hath given 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 cheek been bright with tlie glare of madness. Mark the converse of one thou lovest, that it be simple and sincere ; For an artful or false woman shall set thy pillow with thorns. Observe her deportment with others, when she thinketh not that thou art nigh, For with thee will the blushes of love conceal the true colour of her mind Hath she learning ? it is good, so that modesty go with it : Hath she Avisdom? it is precious, but beware that thou exceed ; For woman must be subject, and tho 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 tliou be mated with misery : Marry not without means ; for so shouldst thou tempt Providence ; / / 106 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. But wait not for more than enoug-li ; for marriage is the duty of most men; Grievous indeed must be the burden that shall outweigh innocence and heaiTli, And a well-assorted marriage hath not many cares. In the day of thy joy consider *he poor ; thou shalt reap a rich narvest of blessing ; For these be the pensioners of One who fiUeth thy cup with pleasures ; In the day of thy joy be thankful ; He hath well deserved thy praise ; Mean and seliish is the heart that seeketh him only in sorrow. For her sake, who leaneth on thine ami, court not the notice of the world, And remember that sober privacy is comelier than pubHc display. If thou marriest, thou art allied unto strangers : see they be not such as shame thee : If thou marriest, thou leavest thine own ; see that it be not done in anger. Bride and bridegroom, pilgrims of Ufe, henceforward to travel together, Ih this the beginning of your journey, neglect not the favour of Heaven : And at eventide kneel ye together, tliat your joy be not unhallowed : Angels that are round you shall 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. Tlie 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 wiit 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 otlier, Let bitterness be strange unto your tongues, but sympathy a dwoUcr 'm your hearts : Impartin^" nalveth the evils, while it doubleth the pleasures of life. But sorrows breed and thicken in the gloomy bosom of Reserve. Voui\ing, for ages, been considered as synonymous with every thing vile and worthless, have, in modern times, been found to be abundant in iodine, the only knowTi cure for scrofula, and kelp, so useful in many manufactures. Horace has signalized his ignorance of this fact in Od. III. 17, 10, " alga inutili," &c. ; and, in IT. Sat. 5, 8, ironically saying, that, " virtus, nisi cum re, vilioi alg^ est." Virgil also has put into the mouth of Thyrsis, in Eel. VII. 42, " Projecta vilior algk." (*) ^'■Hath the crocus yielded up its hulh," <^c. Page 16. The autumnal crocus, or colchicum, which consists of little more iian a deep bidbous root, and a delicate lilac flower, produces a substance which is called veratrin, and has been used with signal success in the cure of gout and similar diseases. A few lines lower down, with reference to the elm, I would remark, that no use has yet been discovered in the principle called " ulraine." *♦ The boon of far Peru " is the potato. 6 122 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHy. (') ^^When acorns give out fragrant drink" cf-c. Page 17. At a meeting of the Medico-Botanical Society, (in 1837,) the President introduced to the notice of the members a new beveraffe which very much resembled coffee, and was made from acorns peeled, chopped, and roasted. Bread made from sawdust is certainly not very palatable, but no one can doubt that it is far more sweet and wholesome than " no bread ;" in a famine, this discovery, which has passed almost sub silentio, would prove to be of the highest importance. The darnel, it may be observed, in passing, is highly poisonous, nd a proper opposite to the lotus. (•) "iZe, who seeming old in youth,^^ q-c. Page 22. Compare Isa. lii. 14, " His visage was so marred more than any man, and his form more than the sons of men," with the idea implied in the observation John viii. 57, " Thou art not yet fifty years old, and hast thou seen Abraham? Our Lord was then thirty-three, or, according to some chrouologists, even yomiger. C) "A sentence Tiath formed a character, and a character subdued a king- dom.'^'* Page 25. A better instance of this could scarcely be found than in the late Lord Ex- mouth, who first directed his thoughts to the sea from a casual remark made by a groom. See his Life. (^) '■^That small cavern," <^c. Page 26. The pineal gland, a small oval about the size of a pea, situated nearly m the centre of the brain, and generally found to contain, even in children, some particles of gravel. Galen, and after him Des Cartes, imagined it the seat of the soul. (•} '■'■The Greek hath surnamed, order." Page 31. K(5(T/jof. The Latins also, who rarely can show a beautiiiil idea which they have not borrowed from Greece, have made a similar application of the term " mundas " to the fabric of the world. ('") "7"'o this our day the Rechahite wanteth not a mun" tj-c. Page 37. I have heard it related of Wolfe, the missionary, that when in Arabia, he fell in with a small wandermg tribe, vv'ho refused to drmk wine, not on Moham- medan principles, but because it had in olden time been " forbidden by Jonadab, the son of Rechab, their father." Compare Jeremiah xxxv. 19, " Jonadab, the son of Rechab, shall not want a man to stand before me for eve** " It will be found in Mr. Wolfe's Journal, NOTES. 123 C^) ''Of Rest:' Page 37. A very obvious objection to the views of Rest here given has probably oc- curred to more than one reUgious reader of the English Bible ; " there remaineth a rest for the people of God ;" doubtless intending the heavenly inheritance.. If the Greek Testament is referred to (Heb. iv. 9), the word trans- lated " rest" will be found to be aaliiSaria^ioi ; a sabbatism, or perpetual Sabbath^ a rest indeed from evil, but very far from being a rest from good : an eterna act of ecstatic intellectual worship, or temporary acts in inlinite series. It i true that another word, KaTanavan, implying complete cessation, occurs in th context ; but this is used of the earthly image, Joshua's rest in Canaan ; th material rest of earth becomes in the skies a spiritual Sabbath ; although I aro ready to admit that the apostle goes on to argue from the word of the type. In passing, let us observe, by way of showing the uncertainty of trusting to any isolated expression of the present scriptural version, that there are no less than six several words of various meaning which in our New Testament are all mdifferently rendered rest : as in Matt. xii. 53, dvaTtavaig ; in John xi. 13, KoifiTiais ; in Heb. iii. 11, xardn-atiffts ; in Acts xi. 31, eipfivri; in 2 Thess. i. 7, avearti ; and in Heb. iv. 9, craP/SaTiaixdi. The Koifiricris is, I apprehend, what is generally meant by rest ; so wishes Byron's Giaour to " sleep without the dream of what he was ;" so he who in Ufe " loathed the languor of repose," avows that he " would not, if he might, be blest, and sought no Paradise but Rest." Such, at least, is not the Christian's Sabbath, which indeed fully agrees, as might be expected, with metaphysical inquiries : a good spirit cannot rest from activity in good, nor an evil one from activity in evil. Rest, in its common slothfiil acceptation, is not possible, or is, at any rate very improbable, in the case of spiritual creatures. (**) ''Calm night that breedeth thoughts" Page 37. KirO time-stained rock climb the fairy flowers of content ; Here, upoi , d j mjssy bank of leisure fling thy load of cares Taste my sunple store, and rest one sootliing hour. Behold., I would coimt thee for a brother, and commune with thy charitable soul ; Though wrapc within the mantle of a prophet, I stand mme 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 : And this poor pensioner of Mercy — should he boast of merit ? The grafted stock, — should that be proud of apples not its own 7 Into the bubbling brook I dip my hermit shell ; Man receiveth as a cup, but Wisdom is tlie river. Moreover, for this fillagree of fancy, this Oriental garnish of similitude, Alas, the world is old, — and all things old within it : I walk a trodden path, I love the good old ways : Prophets, and priests, and kings have tuned the harp I faintly touch. 6* 130 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. rruth 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, tlie 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 feehngs unrepres&ed, welling from the heart spontaneous, ^acts, and comparisons, and meditative atoms, gathered en ihe heap oi combination, lingle in the fashion of my speech with gossamer dreams of Reverie. I need not beat tlie underwood for game ; my pheasants flock upon th0 lawn, And gamboling hares disport fearless in my dewy field ; I roam no heath-empurpled hills, wearily watching for a covey, But thoughts fly svidft 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 breathless toil. But hunt with Aurung-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 mullet-haul : The crane and the kite are of my thoughts, alike with tlie partridge anl 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 ? Or colour in staid hues of fact the changing vest of falsehood ? — Brother, unwittingly he may ; doubtless, 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. OF CHEERFULNESS. 131 OF CHEERFULNESS. Take courage, prisone' of time, for there be many comforts, Cease thy labour in the pit, and bask awhile with truants in the sun ; Be cheerful, man of care, for great is the multitude of chances, Burst tny 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 hfe, 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, While Democrite,^ confident and cheerful, hath plucked up the standard of their camp. (*) Not few nor light are the burdens of life ; then load it not with heaviness of spirit ; Sickness, and penury, and travail, — there be real ills enow : We are wandering Denighted, with a waning moon ; plunge not rashly into jimgles, Where cold and poisonous damps will quench the torcli 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 sunshine with him. Colamitiescome not as a curse, — nor prosperity for other than a trial ; Struggle — thou art better for tlie strife, and the very energy shall hearten thee. 9ood is taught in a Spartan school, — hard lessons and a rough discipline, 132 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. But evil Cometh idly of itself, in the luxury of Capuan holidays ; And wisdom will go bravely forth to meet the chastening scourge, Enduring with a tliankful heart that punishment of Love. There be three chief 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 unbelieving Are classed with idolaters and liars, because they trusted not in God : (') For it is no other than selfish sin, a hard and proud ingratitude, Where seeming repentance is herald of despair, instead of hope's fore- rumier. 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 : Let nature weep ; leave her alone ; the freshet of her sori'ow must run off; And sooner will the lake be clear, relieved of turbid floodinp-s. 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 nay repair with diligence tlie ruins of the past Again, for empty fears, the iiarassings 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 : Wlio 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 if 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 failure. It were wise to talk undaunted even in an accidental chaos. OF CHEERFULNESS. 13j For the biave man is at peace and free to get the mastery of circumstance The stoutest armour of defence is that which is worn within the bosom, And the weapon that no enemy can parry, is a bold and cheerful spirit : Catapults in old war worked like Titans, crushing foes with rocks ; So doth a strong-springed heart throw back every load on its assailants. I went heavily for cares, and fell into the trance of sorrow : And behold, a vision in my trance, and my ministering angel brought it ; There stood a mountain huge and steep, the awful Rock of Ages ; The sun upon its summit, and storms mid"\vay, and deep ravines at foot; And, as I looked, a dense black cloud, suddenly dropping from the thunder, Filled, like a cataract, with yeasty foam, a narrow smilmg valley : Close and hard that vaporous mass seemed to press the ground, And lamentable soimds came up, as of some tliat were smothering beneath. Then, as I walked upon the mountain, clear in summer's noon. For caarity I called aloud, Ho ! climb up hither to the sunshine. And even like a stream of hght my voice had pierced the mist : I saw below two families of men, and knew their name* of old : Coura-^re, struggling through the darloiess, stout of heart and gladsome, Ran up the shining ladder which the voice of hope had made ; And tupping lightly by his side, a sweet-eyed helpmate with him, I lookid upon her face to welcome pleasant Cheerfulness ; And d br.be was cradled in her bosom, a laughing little prattler. The CiiltJ of Cheerfulness and Courage, — could liis name be other than Success ? So, fr m h'^s happy wife, when they both stood beside me on the mountain. The f )nd father took that babe, and set liim on his shoulder in the sunshine. Agp?^ I peered into the valley, for I heard a gasping moan, A f'fPEoIace weak cry, as muffled in the vapours. So 's ? It is Man's to famish as faquir, it is Man's to die a devotee, Light is the torture and tae toil, balanced with the v/ages 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 mcrrv. Look upon this noble-hearted Substitute ; seeing thy woes, he pitied thee, Bowed beneath the mountain of thy sin, and perished, — but lor Godhead ; There stood the Atlas in his power, and Prometheus in his love is there, Emptying on wretched man the blessings earned from heaven : Put them not away, hide them in thy heart, poor and penitent receiver, Be gratitude thy counsellor to good, and wholesome fear unio obedience : Remember, the pruning-knife is keen, cutting cankers even from the vine : Remember, twelve were chosen, and one among them liveth — in perdition. Vea, — for standmg unatoned, the soul is a bison on the prairie, Hunted by those trooping wolves, the many sinfid yesterdays : And it speedeth a terrified Deucalion, flinging back the pebble in bis fll.^ht, The pebble that must add one more to those pursuing ghosts. (*) O man, there is a storm oehind, should drive thy bark to haven ; Thy foe, the foe is on thy track, patient, ceitain, and avenging ; "Day by day, solemnly and silently, followeth the fearful past, — Jlis step is Inme but sure ; for he catcheth the present in eternity : And liow 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, OF TO-DAY. U 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 wrath of thine Avenger, Close at hand, with its wicket on tlie latch; haste for thy life, pooa hunted one ! The gladiator. Guilt, fighteth as of old, armed with net and dagger ; Snaring in the mesh of yesterdays, stabbing with the poniard 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 withio 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. Cherish thy to-day and prize it well, or ever it be gulfed into the past, Husband it, for who can promise if it shall have a morrow ? Behold thou art, — it is enough ; that present care be thine ; Leave thou the pa^st to thy Redeemer, intrust 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 f^o^vn as in a shroud, in darkness and deatJ>-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-mon'ow's sigh be not, would God it had not dawnea For, To-day the lists are set, snfi thou must be^r thee b'-av'^ly. Tilting for honour, duty, Ufe, or deatt without renroacb : To-day, is the trial of thy fortitude O dauutJessj Mandsui chipC; 138 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Today, is thy watch, O sentinel ; to-day thy reprieve, O captive ; 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 wiD, Or idly to leave it in the sun, an uncouth lump, to harden. bright presence of To-day, let me wrestle with thee, gracious ang«I, 1 wih 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 unto 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 ! Behold, thou art pilot of the ship, and owner of that freighted 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 ? shall 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 may'st 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 whirlpools 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 : Who 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 rfiay be hit ? for great is the company of archer»- OF TO-BIORROW. 135 Rach breath is burdened with a bidding, and every minute hath its mia- sion ; For spirits, good and bad, cluster on die tliickly peopled air : Sin may blast thee, grace may bless chee, good or ill this hour ; Chance, and change, and doubt, and fear, are parasites of all. A man's Hfe is a tower, with a staircase of many steps. That, as he toileth upward, criunble successively behind him : No going back, the past is an abyss ; no stopping, for tlie present perish eth ; But ever hasting on, precarious on tlie foothold of To-day. I Our cares are all To-day ; our joys are all To-day ; knd in wie little word, our life, what is it, but — ^To-day ? OF TO-MORROW. 1 ^RE is a floating island, forward, on the stream of time, Bii >yant with fermenting air, and borne along the rapids ; An. ♦ on that island is a siren, singing sweetly as she goeth, Hei eyes are bright with invitation, and allurement lurketh in her cheeks Man / lovers vainly pursuing, follow her beckoning finger, Many lovers seek her still, even to the cataract of death. To-Hicrrow is that island, a vain and foolish heritage. And, ;{»ughing with seductive lips, Delusion hideth there. Often, the precious present is wasted in visions of the futuie, And co'^ To-morrow cometh not with prophecies fulfilled. There is a fairy skiflf, plying on the sea of life. And chailtably toiling still to save the shipwrecked crews ; 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 skilf. 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 Tr>-morrow bcareth half the burdens of To-day. 140 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. To-morrow, w hispfjreth weakness ; and To-morrow findeth him the weaker: To-morrow, promiseth conscience ; and behold, no to-day for a fulfilment name of happy omen unto youth, O bitter word of terror to the dotard, Goal of folly's lizy wish, and sorrow's ever-coming friend, Fraud's loojihole, — 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, tliou remedy, thou ruin, How tliickly swarms of thought are clustering round To-morrow. The hive of memory increaseth, to every day its cell ; Tiiere 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 : To-morrow is their care ; they toil for rest To-morrow ; But man deferreth duty's task, and lovetli 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, the shifting anchorage, dangerous trust of mariners ; To-morrow, the wrecker's beacon, wily snare of the destroyer. Reconcile conviction with delay, and To-morrow is a fatal lie ; Frighten resolutions into action, To-morrow is a wholesome truth : 1 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 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 no! stop it ; But haste thee v^nth the lever of a prayer, and stem its strength To-day : For its race may speedily be run, and tliis poor nut, 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 : Wouldcst thou be bold against the past, and all its evil moinorios, Wouldest thou be safe amid the present, its dangers and temptations. Wouldest thou be hopeful of the future, vague though it be and endless 1 OF AUTHORSHIP. 14. llaste thee, repent, be^eve, obey ! thou standest in tlie courage of a legion Commend the Past to God, with ah its irrevocable harm, Humbly, but in cheerful trust and banish vain regrets ; Come to him, contmually come, car ting all the Present at his feet, Boldly, but in prayerful love,, and iLng off selfish cares ; Commit tlie Future to his will, the viewless fated Future ; Zecdously go forward with integrity, and God will bless thy faith. Foi tliat, feeble as thou art, there is with thee a mighty Conqueror, Tliv friend, the same for ever, yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow ; That friend, changeless as eternity, himself shall make thee friends Of iiiose thy foes transformed, yesttirday, to-day, and to-morrow. OF AUTHORSHIP. ^ivEAT 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 hamit is on the lips of men, whose dwelling in their hearts Who are precious in the retrospect of Memory, and walk among the Adsions of Hope, Who commune with tlie good for e/erlasting, and call the wisest, brother, Whose voice hath burst the Silence, and whose hght is flung upon the Darkness, — Flashing jewels on a robe of black, and harmony bounding out of chaos, — Who gladden empires witli their \\ isdom, and bless to the farthest gene- ration, Doers of illimitable good, gainers of inestimable glor}'- ! 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 Hfted from the multitude, groping in the dark with candles, 'To gaze upon that firmament of preise, the constellated lamps of learnmg, Everduring witnesses of Mind, undi -iputed evidence of Power, Goodly volumes, living stones, build up their author's temple ; Tliough of low estate, his rank is above princes, — though needy, he hatli worship of the rich, 149 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. VVlien Genius iinfurleth on the winds his banner as a mighty leader Just in purpose, and seK-possessed in soul, lord of many talents, The maiital Crtesus goetli 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 ; The wise have set him as their capUiin, the foolish are rebuked at his presence, The excellent bless him witli their prayers, and the wicked praise him hf 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 calUnor. For it addeth immortality to dying facts, that are ready to vanish away, Embalming as in amber the poor insects of an hour ; Siieddiiig upon stocks and stones the tender light of interest. And illumining dark places of the eartli, with radiance of classic lustre. It hath power to make past things present, and availeth for the present in the future, Delivering thoughts, and words, and deeds, from the outer darkness 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 Thebais ? The golden Satrap, and the Tetrarch, — the Hun, and the Druid, and the Celt? The merchant princes of PhcEnicia, and the minds that fashioned Ele« phantii ? 'as, for the poet hath forgotten them ; and lo ! they are outcasts of Mumory ; Alas, that they are withered leaves, sapless and fallen from tlie chaplet of fiuiie. Speak, Ktrnria, whoso bones be these, entombed with costly care, — Tell out, lierculaneum, the titles that have sounded in those thy pidaces,— « Lycian Zanthus, thy citadela are mute, and the honour of their architects hath died ; OF AUTHORSHIP. I i3 Copan and Palenque, dreamy ruins in the West, the forest hath swalloweo up your sculptures ; (*) S)rracuse, — how silent of the past ! — Carthage, thou art blotted from re membrance ! Egypt, wondrous shores, ye are buried in the sandhills of forgetfulness ! 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 falling feather, Wherewith some hoary scribe might register their 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 Caziques, and priests of the pyramids of Mexico, — Ask of a thousand painted tribes, high nobility of Nature, Who, once, could roam their own Ely^ian 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 Macca- baean mother. Brotherly love that Antigone might envy, the honour and the fortitude 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 the living. High is the privilege of Authorship : I purify mine ofSce ; Albeit earthly stains pollute it in my hands. For it is to the world a teacher and a guide. Mentor of that gay Telema- chus ; Warning, comforting, and helping, — a lover and a friend of Man. Heaven's almoner, Earth's health, patient minister of goodness, With kind and zealous pen, the wise religious blessoth : Nature's worshipper, and neophyte of grace, rich in tender sympathies. With kindled soul and flashing eye the poet poureth' out his heartful : Priest of truth, champion of innocence, warder of the gates of praise, Car9fully with sifting search laboureth the pale historian : 144 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Error's enemy, and acolyte of science, firm In sober argument, The calm philosopher marshalleth his facts, noting on liis page theil 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 merchandise 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 Inng prophets, chilled in soul, unqui:kened by the life of inspiration !— 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 ^.ompany. And there be, who, haters of religion, toil to prove it priestcraft. Owning none other aim nor hope, but to confound the gond : Woe unto them ! for their works shall live ; yea, to their utt^? cop demnation : Woe ! for their own handwriting shall testify against thero 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 Ox" bw affections ; To rejoice in a man's own miniature world, gladdened by its rare arrange ment. 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 composition ! Yeaj when the volume of the universe was blazoned out in beauty by it» AuJicr, God was glad, and blessed his work ; for it was very good. And shau not the image of his Maker be happy in his own mind's doing, LooKinpf on the structure he hath reared, gratefully, with sweet com placence ? Shall not the Miverva of hia brain, panoplied and perfect in proportions. Gladden the soul and give light unto the eyes of him the travailing parent ? Go to the sculptor, and ask him of his dreams, — wherefore are his nights sa moonlit ? OF AUTHORSHIP. 145 Angel faces, and beautiful shapes, fascinate the pale Pygmalion : Co 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 ; ]3ehold, — his court is as a monarch's ; ideas, and grand imaginations Swell, with gorgeous cavalcade, the splendour of his Spiritual State ; Behold, — he is delicately served ; for oftentimes, in solitary calmness, Some mental fair Egeria smileth on her Numa's worship ; Behold, — 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 ! V'ea ; how dignified, and worthy, full of privilege and happiness, Standeth in majestic independence the self-ennobled Author ! For God hath blessed hun with a mind, and cherished it in tenderness 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. His hopes are mighty and eternal, scorning small ambitions : He hideth from the pettiness 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 suii ; To creeping things upon the mountain leaveth he the gradual ascent, Resting his swiftness on the summit only for a higher fliglit. Glad in clear good-conscience, lightly doth he look for commendation ; 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, — tlioa tiltest at a pyramid : Yet, just censure of the good never can he hear without contrition ; 146 PROVERBIAL ir'HILOSOPHY. Neither would he 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 luscious fruits The worm and the wasp and the multitude of flies are gathered as to ban- quet ; Fashion's freak, md the critical sting, and the flood of flatteries, he scometb; Cheerfully asking of the crowd the favour to forget him : The while his blooming fruits ripen in richer fragrance, ^ A feast for the few, — and the many yet unborn, — who still shall love the?j savour. 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 nis hono^^r : His dignity hath set him among princes, the universe is debtor to liis worth, His privilege is blessing for ever, his happiness shineth nov/, 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 ; we expound mysteries by mysteries ; 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, We sail in chartless seas, but behold ! the polf-star is above us. For, coimting down from God's good-will, thou meltest every riddle into him, The axiom of reason is an undiscovered God, and all things live m his ubiquity ; OF MYSTERY. 147 There is only one great secret ; but that one hideth every where ; How should the infinite be understood in Time, when it stretcheth on it^i grasped for ever ; Can a halting CEcUpus of earth guess that enigma of the universe ? Not one : the sword of faith must cut the Gordian knot -^f nature. • God, pervading all, is in all things the mystery of each ; The wherefore of its character and essence, the fountain of its virtues an4 its beauties. — The child asketh of its mother, — Wherefore is the violet so sweet ? The mother answereth her babe, — Darling, God hath willed it. And sages, diving into science, have but a profundity of words, \ They track, for some few links, the circhng 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. Wlierefore are the meadows green, is it not to gi*atify 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 w4io set a number to those sounds, and fixed the laws of harmony ' Who taught the bird to build its nest, or lent the shrub its life, 3r poised in the balances of order the power to attract and to renei ? W]\o 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, cloiidcapped in immensity, standeth the cohesion of all things And secrets, sublimely indistinct, permeate that Universe, Himself : 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 .n the potter's clay : God, a wise father, showeth not his reasons to his babes ; But willeth in secrecy 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 ; 148 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. • Therefore, in these latter days, we heed not the Jehovah in his works. iSlystcry is (lod's o-roat name; He is the mystery of goodness: Some otlier, from the hierarchs of heaven, usurped the mystery of sin. GckI is the Kiiifr, yea, even of liimself; he crowned liimself 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 unchangeably, is wise, righteous, and loving : But ambition, open unto angels, saw the evil, flung aside from everlastmg; ft was Lucifer that saw, and nothing loatlied those black unclaimed regalia. So he coveted and stole, to be counted for a king, antagonist of God : Bui when he touched the leprous robes, behold, a cheated traitor. For self-existence, charactered with love, with power, wisdom, and ubi- quity, Could not dwell alone, but willed and worked creation. Thus in continual exhalation, darkening the void witli matter. Sprang from prolific Deity the creatures of his skill ; And beings, living on his breath, were 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 amueE,ty : Sinless^ none had been redeemed, nor wrapt again in God : Sorrowless, no conflict had been known, and heaven had been i44Llcted ot its comfort: Yea, with evil unexhibited, probationary toils unfelt. Men had not appreciated good, nor angels valued their security. Herein, to reason's eye, is revealed the mystery of goodness. Blessing through permitted woe, and teaching by the mystery of sin. O Chhrisrian, whose chastened curiosity loveth things mysterious, Accounting them shadows and eclipses of Him the one great Hght, Look now, satisfied with faith, on minds that judge by sense. And .lull 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 OF MYSTERY. 143 % What is this '^ that a seed produced a seed, and so for a mousand seasons. Ascend a thousand steps, thy ladder leaveth thee in air : Thou canst not chmb to God, and short of Him is nothing ; There is no cause for aught we see, but in his present will. Begin from the Maker, thou earnest down his attributes to reptiles, The sharded beetle and the hzard live and move m 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 slialt thou reach it ; Yet man, beginning from himself, that first deluding mystery, i Hopetli 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 tilings he cannot solve ; Till, like an ostrich in the desert, he burieth his head in atoms, Hoping that, if he is blind, no sun can sliine in heaven. Therefore 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, Tlie captious and cautious unbeliever is of aU men weakest to believe : Tut from the anchorage of God, his bark is a playtliing of the billows ; The comyjass of his principle is broken, the rudder of his faith unshipped . Chance and Fate, in a stultified antagonism, govern all for him ; 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 ? Whereof can he be sure, \Aith whom Chaos is substitute for .Order ? How should his silly structure stand, a ppamid built upon its apex ? Yea, I have seen gray-headed men,-^the bastard slips of science, Go for light to glowworms, while they scorn the sun at noon ; Men, who fea^ no God, trembling at a gipsy's curse. Men, who jest at a revelation, clinging to a madman's orophecy ! There is a pleasing dread in the fashion of all mysteries, For hope is mixed therein and fear ; who shall diAnne their issue t 150 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Even tlie orphan, wandering by nicrht, lost on dreary moors, Is sensible of some vao-ue bliss amidst liis shapeless terrors ; The buoyancy ol" instant expectation, spurring on the mind to venture Overbcarcth, in its energy, the cramp and the chill of apprehension. There is a solitaiy pride, when the lieart, in new importance, Writeth gladly on its archives, the secrets none other men have seen : And there is a caged terror, evermore wresthng with the mind, When crime hath wliispered liis confession, and the secrets are written there in blood : Tlie 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 his deep discovery; The idlest clown shall delve all day to find a hidden treasm-e. For mystery is man's life ; we wake to the whisperings of novelty : And what, though we lie down disappointed ? we 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 v.'e 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 ? Levelled of Alps and Andes, without its valleys and ravines, How dull the face of earth, unfeatured of both beauty and sublimity : And so, shorn of mystery, beggared in its hopes and fears, How flat the prospect of existence, mapped by intuitive foreknowledge ? Praise God, creature of earth, for the mercies linked with secrecy, That spices of uncertainty enrich thy cup of life : Praise God, his hosts on high, for the mysteries that make all joy ; What 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 similituae. Nevertheless, t;ike 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 ? Hmv strange a thing is man, a spirit saturating clay ! Whi;n doth soul makt; embryos immortal, — how do they rank hereafter,- ^nd will the unconscious idiot be quenched in death as nothing ? OF MYSTERY. 151 In essence immaterial, are these minds, as it were thinking machines ? F\)r, to understand may but rightly be to use a mechanism all possess, So that in reading or hearing of another, 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 aread 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 man 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 ? Why should arsenic kill, — and whence is the potency of antidotes ? Behold, a morsel, — eat and die ; the term of thy probation is expired Behold, a potion — drink and be alive ; the limit of thy trial is enlarged 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 hving in the light of example ? l Is practice electricity ? — Yet all tliese are but names. Doth normal Art imprison, in its works, spirit translated into substancft. 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 w^oes, 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 converge, Throned in his sublimity beyond the grovellings of lov/er intellect. Should claim to be truer than man's truest, the boasted ceilainty of numbers, Should baffle his arithmetic, confound his demonstrations, and paralyze tlie might of his necessity, !52 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. {Standing supreme as the mystery of mysteries, every where, yet m personate, Essential one in tliree; essential three in one ! 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 equalities, 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, revelhng in thy largess. But chilling ^selfishness will mutter, — I must give again : The vain heart may be glad, in this new proof of man's esteem. But the same idolatry of self abhorreth thoughts of thanldng. Nevertheless, give ; for it shall be a discriminative 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 suspic"')!! Spoilt the flavour of their thanks, to look for latent motives. Give to merit, largely give ; his conscious heart will bless thee : It is not flattery, but love, — the sympathy of men his brethren. Give, for encouragement in good ; the weak desponding mind •lath many foes, and much to do, and leaneth on its friends. {et heed thou wisely these ; give seldom to thy better ; for such obtrusive boon shall savour of presumption ; i')r, if his courteous bearing greet thy proffered kindness, Shall not tliine independent honesty be vexed at the semblance of a bribe t Moreover, heed thou this ; give to thine equal charily, The occasion fair and fitting, the gift well chosen and desired . OF GIFTS. 15$ Hath he been prosperous and blest ? a flower may show thy gladness ; Is he in need ? with liberal love, tender him the well-filled purse : Disease shall welcome frienrlly care in grapes and precious unguents ; And where a darling child hath died, give praise, and hope, and sympaJrjy , Yet once more, heed thou this ; give to the poor discreetly, Nor 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 j The timely loan hath added nerve, where easy liberality would palsy ; Work and wages make a light heart : but the mendicant asketh with i 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 wlio give unto tlie poor, to gain large interest 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 snip : Then shall thy worldly soul murmur that the balances were false, Thy ti-ader's mind shall think of God, — He stood not to his bargain 1 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 ricli by wrong, are known among the band >f the be- nevolent ; And men extol the noble hearts, who rob that they may give. Receivers are but little prone to challenge rights of giving, Nor stop to test, for conscience-sake, the righteousness of mammon : And tlie zealot in a cause is a receiver, at the hand which bettereth hi« cause ; And thus an unsuspected bribe shall blind the good man's judgment : It is easy to excuse greatness, and the rich are readily forgiven : What, if his gains were evil, sanctified by usinff them arigh/. ? 254 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. O sliullow flatterer, self-interest is thy thought, Hopeless of part;iking in the like, thou too wouldest scorn the giver. Money hath its value ; and the scatterer thereof his thanks : Few men, drinking at "i. 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, And 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 ; Yet, if knowledge of a theft make gainers thereby guilty, Can he be altogether innocent who never asked the honesty of gain ? Therefore, O preacher, zealous for charity, temper thy warm appeal, — Warning the debtor and unjustly rich, they may not dare to give : To do good is a privilege and guerdon : how shouldest thou rejoice 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 will the feeble and the conscious of defect : Rashly give they, and afterwards are sad, — a gift that doubly erred. It was the worldliness of priestcraft that accounted almsgiving for chanty; And many a father's penitence hath steeped his jjon in penury : Yet, considered he lightly the guilt of a deathbed selfishness 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 neai, ^ut her garments drop ambrosia, chiefly on the violets around her : She gladdeneth mdeed the maplike scene, stretching to the verge of the horizon. OF GIFTS. 15& For her anwel face is lustrous and beloved, even as tlie moon in heaven But the light of that beatific vision glowetli in serener concentration, Tlie nearer to her heart, and nearer to her home, — that hill-top where she sitteth : Therefore is she kind unto her kin, yearning in affection on her neighbourSj Gi\i.ig Gifts to those around v\'ho 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 : herefote hideth she for shame, counting that pride humility, nd none of those around her hearth are gladdened by her gifts : Rather, with an overreaching zeal, fiingeth 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 fattened ; Woman been crushed by the tyrannous hand that upheld the flag of lib- erality ; Poverty been prisoned up and starved by hearts that are maudlin upon crime And freeborn babes been manacled by men who liberate the sturdy slave. Policy counselleth a gift, given wisely and in season, And policy afterward approveth it, for great is the influence of gifts. Tlie lover, unsmiled upon before, is welcomed for his jewelled bauble ; The righteous cause without a fee must yield to bounteous guilt : How fair is a man in thine esteem whose just discrimination seeketh thee, And so, discerning merit, honoureth it with gifts I Yea, let the cause appear sufficient, and the motive clear and unsuspicious, As given unto one who cannot help, or proving honest thanks, There liveth not one among a million who is proof against the charm ol liberality, And flattery, that boon of praise, hath power with the wisest. Man is of three natures, craving all for charity : t 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 its unsatisfying pittance, a thankless, heartless pauper : Yet would he bless thee and be grateful, didst thou feed his spirit. And teacn him that thine almsgivings are charities, r.re loves. —1 saw a beggar in the street, and another beggar pitied him. !56 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Syinpatliy sank into liis soul, and the pitied one felt happier : Anon passed by a cavalcade, children of wealth and gaycty ; They laughed and looked upon the beggar, and the gallants flung Iiirn ^Told ; [le, poor spirit-humbled wretch, gathered up their givings with a curse And went — to share it with his brother, the beggar who had pitied liirn ' OF BEAUTY. Thou mightier than Manoah's son, whence is thy great strength, And wherein the secret of. thy craft, O charmer charming wisely ? — For thou art strong in weakness, and in artlessness well-skilled. Constant in the multitudes of change, and simple amidst intricate coiu plexity. 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 analyze 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 glistening 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, the 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 gradation. And every individual in each having his propriety of difference, So that the meanest of creation bringeth in a tribute of the beautiful. OF BEAUTY, 157 Vea, from the worst in favour shineth out a 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. SC; that heraldic blazon is Creation's common signet ; And the universal familv of Ufe goeth in the colours of its Lord ; But each one, as a several son, shall bear those arms with a difference : Beauty various in phase, and similar in seeming oppositions. The corns of old Rome were struck with a diversity for each, Barely two be found alike in every Caesar's image : So, note thou the seals, ranged around the charters of the Universe, The finger of God is the stamp upon them all, but each hath its separate variety. Beauty, theme of innocence, how may guilt discourse thee ? Let holy angels sing thy praise, for man hath marred thy visage. Still, the maimed torso of a Theseus can gladden taste with its proportions - Though sin hath shattered every limb, how comely are the fragments ! 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 every where, 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 the 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 ths waters, — Men gaze upon the loveliness, — and lo, it is beautiful exceedingly ; 158 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. She, with tlie 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, a? 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, Kor felt its thrilling beauty : but is it then not beautiful ? And careless men, at summer's eve, have loved the dimpled waves ; 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 flooods of noon ; Lo, what a jewel hath he gotten, — this is the monojiolist of beauty, — 4nd lightly heeding all beside, he poured his yearnings thitherward : 8e it for love, or for learning, habit, art, or nature, Exclusive thought is all the cause of this particular zeal. iiut 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 cvcle of chronology From the centipede's jointed armour to the mammoth's fossil ribs. From the kingfisher's shrill note to the cataract's tliundering bass, From the greensward's grateful hues to the faj-cin.'iting 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 featliery 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 vallev and its lake* OF BEAUTY. 159 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 beauty. Beauty coileth with tlie water-snake, and is cradled in the shrewmouse'a nest, She f itteth out with evening bats, and the soft mole hid her in his tunnel ; The Hmpet is encamped upon the shore, and beauty not a stranger to hia tent ; The silvery dace and golden carp thread the rushes with her : She saileth into clouds with an eagle, she fluttereth into tuhps with a humming-bird ; The pasturing kine are of her company, and she prowleth with the leopard in his jungle. Moreover, for the reasonable world, its words, and acts, and speculation, For frail and fallen manhood, in every work and way Beauty, wrecked and stricken, lingereth still among us. And morsels of that shattered sun are dropt upon the darkness. Yea, with savages and boors, the mean, the cruel, and besotted, Ever in extenuating grace liide some rehcs of the beautiful. Gleams of kindness, deeds of courage, patience, justice, generosity, Truth welcomed, knowledge prized, rebukes taken with contrition. Ml in various measure, have been blest with 'some of these, A.nd never yet hath hved the man utterly beggared of tlie beautiful. Beauty is as crystal in the torchlight, sparkling on the poet's page ; Virgin honey of H}Tnettus, distilled from the lips of the orator; A savour of sweet spikenard, anointing the hands of hberality ; A feast of angels' food set upon the tables of religion. She is seen in the tear of sorrow, and heard in the exuberance of mirth ; She goeth out early with the huntsman, and watcheth at the pillow oj disease. Science, in his secret laws, hath found out latent beauty. Sphere and square, and cone and curve, are fashioned by ner rules : Mechanism met her in his forces, fancy caught her in its flittings. Day is hghtened by her eyes, and her eyelids close upon the night. Beauty is dependence in the babe, a toothless tender nurshng ; 160 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Beauty is boldniiss in the boy, a curly rosy truant ; Beauty is modesty and grace in fair retiring girlhood, Beauty is openness and strength in pure high-minded 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 l^hat iron-moulded mind, full proof against her power. J3eauty, 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 often-told the tale, to count the victories 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 beneath the cloister's shade ; Usury freed her without ransom : the buccaneer^'^'as gentle in her presence* Madness kissed her on the chceek, and Idiocy brightened at her coming : Yea, the very cattle in the field, and hungry prowlers of the forest, With fawning homage greeted her, as beauty glided by. A welcome guest, unbidden, she is dear to every hearth ; A glad spontaneous growth of friends are springing round her rest ; Learning sitteth at her feet, and Idleness labcnireth to please her ; Folly hath flung aside his bells, and leaden Dullness gloweth ; Prudence is rash in her defence ; Friioality fillcth her with riches ; Despair came to her for counsel ; and Bereavement was glad when ebe consoled ; Justice putteth up his sword at the tear of supplicating beauty \nd Mercy, witl^ indulgent haste, hath pardoned beauty's sin. or BEAUTY. 16] 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 bar up on high, ye kings, and bow before the majesty of beauty ! Friend and sr-holar, who, in charity, hast walked with me thus far. We htive wandered in a wilderness of sweets, tracking beaut/ s fcu>*- steps : And ever a.- ve rambled on among the tangled thicket, JMany a startled thought hath tempted further roaming ; Passion, sympathetic influence, might of imaginary halos, — Many the like would lure aside, to hunt their wayward themes. And, look you ! — from liis 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 ; EQs neck is garlanded with flowers, his antlers hung with chaplets, And rainbow-coloured ribbons stream adown his mottled flanks : Should we 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 cHme, Manifold and changeable, are multiphed the more by strange greganoui fashion : And notable ensamples in the great turn to epidemics in the lower, So that a nation's taste shall vary with its rulers. Stem Egypt, humbled to the Greek, fancied softer idols ; i62 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Greece, the Roman province, nigh forgat her classic sculpture , Rome, crushed beneath the Goth, loved his barbarian habits ; And Alaric, with 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 circumstance So that Nature's must shall hit her creature's liking ; Second, for the middle ; though the foolishness of vanity seek to ma? 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 imitate the great in their deformity ; 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 gray hairs ; Age plastereth her wrinkles, and is painted in the ruddiness of Youth. Fashion, the parasite of Rank, apeth faults and faiUngs, 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 lovehness of woman, all would own its beauty. The Caffre and Circassian, Russians and Hindoos, the Briton, the Turk and Japanese. 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 pointeth 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. OF BEAUTY. J 6? There is a beauty of 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 Ufe : 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 f But watch it well ; for vanity and sin, mahce, hate, suspicion. Lowering -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 excellence, Yet hath many an angel shape been tenanted by fiends. A man, spiritually keen, shall detect in surface beauty Those marring specks of e\il, 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 dis- tortion. There is a beauty of the reason : grandly independent of externals. It looketh from the windows of the house, shining in the man triumphant. 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 forehoad. There is empire in his eye, and sweetness on his lip, and his brown cheok 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 Phidias, — Such an one, with intellects abased, have I noted crouching to the dwarf. Whilst his lovers scorn the fool whose beauty hath departed ! 164 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. And tliere is a beauty for the spirit ; mind in its perfect flowering, Fragrant, expanded jnto soul full of Vh'C and blessed. 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 lie fed on knowledge, nor drank at the streams of science, He is of the common herd, illiterate; — there is here no beauty of thi reason. But lo ! his filming eye is bright with love from heaven, n every look it beameth praise, as worshipping with 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 tliin 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 depise. Nevertheless, as reason's child, look thou v»^isely farther, For age, disease, and care, and sin, shall tarnish all the surface ; 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 perfection,— 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 gaace 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. OF BEAUTY. IbS With patient scrutinizing care let us cull the conclusion of their essence, And answer to the riddle of Zorobabel, Whence the might of beauty. (•) Ugliness is native unto nothing, but possible abstract evil : In every thing created, at its w^orst, lurk the dregs of loveliness. We be fallen into uttor 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 hurhng 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 illume its utter black, And those refracted rays glitter on the hunch of its deformity. Verily the fancy may be false, yet hath it met me ir my musings, (As expounding the pleasantness of pleasure, but no ways extenuating license,) That even those yearnings after beauty, in wayward wanton youth, WTien guileless of ulterior end, it eraveth 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 tlioms : we turn aside, wander, and are lost. God, tlie 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, 166 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. And, even like as exiles of idolatry, should quaff from the cisterns of creation Stagnant draughts, for those fresh springs that rise in the Creator. Only, being burthened 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 doteth over beauty in decay. e still thirsteth for the beautiful ; but his delicate ideal hath grown gross, A.nd 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 recollections, Until his brightest thought of noon is but a shade of black. This then is thy charm, O beauty, all pervading ; And this thy wondrous strength, O beauty, conqueror of all : The outline of our shadowy best, the pure and comely creature, That winneth on the conscience \\ath 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, fuU of v^dsdom, and perfect in the plentitude of Beauty. (•) OF FAME. Blow the trumpet, spread the wing, fling thy scroll upon the sky, Rouse the slumbering world, O Fame, and fill tlie sphere with echo : —Beneath thy blast they wake, and murmurs. come hoarsely on the wind, Ai^d flashing eyes and bristling hands proclaim they hoar thy message: Rolling and surging as a sea, that upturned flood of faces Hasteneth with its million tongues to spread the wondrous tale ; OF FAME. 167 Thft 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 shadow, Once more is mingled with the multitude, whispering as he walketli, And huthing all their eager ears to hear some newer Fame. 3o 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 ; Fc r this, dived Empedocles into Etna's fiery whirlpool ; For this conquerors, regicides, and rebels, have dared their perilous crimes. In all men, from the monarch to the menial, lurketh lust of fame ; / Thr savage and the sage alike regard their labours proudly : Ytja, in death, the glazing eye is illumined by the hope of reputation, 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 tlie spiritual thirst, a mental food for mind, \ 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 theii existence. There is a blameless love of fame, springing from desire of justice, When a man hath featly won and fairly claimed his honours •• 169 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. And then fame cometh as encouragement to the inward consciousness of merit, Gladdening by the kindhness and thanks, wherewithal his labours are re warded. 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 tlie 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 ; Even so fame, hurtling on the quiet with many meeting tongues, Can out of nothing bring forth fruits, and blossom on a nonrishmen^ 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 witl) 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 tlie noblest. CaBsar'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 merchandise nor conquest, fear thou less for cha- racter. If a liar accuseth thee of evil, be not swift to answer ; Yea, rather give him license for a while ; it shall help thine honour after- ward : Never yet was calumny engendered, but good men speedily discerned it, And innocence hath burst from its injustice, as the green A^orld rollings out of Chaos. OF FAME. 169 \ATiat, though still the wicked scoff, this also tumeth 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 iiold out, obstinate in unkind judgment, — Ignorance and calumny are paired ; we afRrm 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. A.nd 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 : fie standeth as a gallant chief, unheeding shot or shell ; He trusted in God his Judge ; neither arrows nor the pestilence shall harm him. A high heart is a sacrifice to heaven ; should it stoop among the creepera 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 alti- tude 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 ? Maeonides took no thought, commiting all his honours to the future, And Flaccus, standing on his watch-tower, spied the praise of aires. Smoking flax will breed a flame, and the flame may illuminate a wor.d • Where is he who scorned that smoke as foul and murky vapour ? The village stream swelled to a river, and the river was a kingdom's wealth ; 8 1*0 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Where is he who boasted he could step across that stream ? Such are tlie 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 sharie : Therefore mocking Monus, 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 vidth its glory. f 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 are marble : Modem 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 shah 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 deserv- ing, That rusheth on in fearless might, the conscious sense of merit ; And there is a littleness in jealousy of fame, looking as aware of weak ness, That creepeth cautiously along, afraid that its title will be challenged. The wild boar, full of beech-mast, flingfeth him down amonaf the brambles Secure in bristly strength, without a watch he sleepeth ; But the hare, afraid to feed, croucheth in its own soft form ; WaketuUy with timid eyes, and quivering ears, he listeneth. Kvcn 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 fen and field, OF FAME. 171 And scaTdth from his marshy lair a host of fearful foes. But there is a mimic talent, whose safety lieth in its quickness, A timorous thing of doubting guile, that scarce can face a friend : This one is captious of reproof, provident to snatch occasion, Groedy of applause, and vexed to lose one tittle of the glory. He is a poor warder of his fame, who is ever on the watch to keep it spot less ; Such care argueth debility, a garrison relying on its sentinel. • assive 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 prejudice, And Ignorant that perishable falsehood dieth as a branch cut oflf. Purity of motive and nobility of mind shall rarely condescend To prove its rights, and prate of wrongs, or evidence its worth 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 stopped in his career to punish the petulance of sparrows 1 Should the palm-tree bend his crown to chide the brier 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, Ts passed aside with 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 cf genius count his injuries in secret. Wisely will he hide the pains a hardened herd would mock ; For the gTeat 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 ; Or dazzling fame with wildfire light will lure us on for ever. For look, all subjects of the mind may range beneath its barmer. And time would fail and patience droop, to count that numerous host, The nine is deep, and branching wide, — and who can work it out " fT2 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Vears of thonglit would leave untold the boundless topic, Fame. Every matter in the universe is linked in sucluvise unto otiiers, That a deep full treatise upon one thing might reach to the history ot oil things : And before some single thesis had been followed out in all its branches, Tne wandering 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 th:J 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 in different 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 ! Vet might the huge expanse be filled with volumes writ on Fame. OF FLATTERY. 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'ikin^ 7 T trow not ; though false and insincere, woman listened greedily. Vacant Folly talketh high of Learning's deepest reason ; Is she haled for her hollo wness ? — learning held her wiser for the nonce The worldly and the sensuah to gain some end, did homage to religion * OF FLATTERY. !?1 And the good man gave thanks as for a convert, where others sew the hypocrite. Yet none of these were cheated at the heart, nor steadily hclievcd tliosa flatteries ; They feared the core was rotten, wliile 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 find them aj^ples of Sodom. So they laboured to think all honest, winking hard with both their eyes ; And hushed uj) every wliisper 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 liis incense, and loveth not to shame his suppliunts, 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 mock- ing-bird. The world is full of fools ; and sycophancy liveth on the foolish : So he groweth great and rich, that fawning supple parasite. Sometimes he boweth hke a reed, cringing to the pompousness of pride, Sometimes he strutteth as a gallant, pampering the fickleness of vanity : I have known him listen with the humble, enacting, silent marveller. To hear some purse-proud dunce expound his poverty of mind ; ! have heard him wrangle with the obstinate, vowmg 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 afterward , Now, he will hardly be a loser, — but cannot cease to wonder at thy skih : He iaudeth his own worth, that the leader may have glory in his {'ollovver; He meekly confesseth liis unworthiness, 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 \larfare ; A.nd, while my soul hath scorned him, I have watched his skill from far. His thoughts are full of guile, deceitfully combining contrarieties, 174 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. And when he docth hattle in a man, he is leagued with traitorous Self-love Straage things have I noted, and o{)posite 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 tc. be enslaved ? Till the Narcissus, self-enamoured, whelmed in floods of flattery, Is cheated from the constancy and fervency of love by friendship's subtli; 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 be in well-earned praise ot 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 ; Knowing that self-love entereth not, to resist applause \^nth 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 sneak of graces in tlie 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 sycophant Hath marvelled ill that praise of children seldom won their parents. This therefore note, unto detection ; flattery can sneer as well as smile ; Ai-1 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, every where hardy and indigeno'is. Go to the storehouse of thy memory, and take what is readiest tn thy hand, — The noble deed, the clever phrase, for which thy pride was flattered : Oil, it hath been dwelt upon in solitude, and comforted tliy heart in crowds, It liath made thee walk as in a dream, and lifted tlie head alAve thy fellows ; It hath compensated months of gloom, that minute of sweet siuishiiie, Drying up the pools of apathy, and kindhng the tire of ambition : OF FLATTERY. I7» 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 ; Tne dame shall tell her gi'andcliild of her coy and courted youth, And the graybeard prateth of a stranger, that praised his tt sk at school. Ofttimes to the sluggard and the dull, flattery nath done good service, Quickening the mind to emulation, and encouraging the heart that 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 venturetli afloat ^with bladders, Until self-contidence and growth of skill have made him spurn their aid, Thus commendation may be prudent, where a child hath ill deserved 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 merchandise, words put out at interest ; A scheme for canvassing opinions, and tinging them all with partiality. 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 sycophant 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 thou be suspicious of its truth, be generous at least to its gentility. The skilful thief of Lacedaemon had praise before his judges, As many caitiffs win applause for genius in their calling. Moreover, his meaning may be kind, — and thou art a debtor to his tongue H-isten well to pay the debt, with charity and shrewdness : He must not think thee caught, nor feel himself discovered, f^or find thine answering compliment as hollow as liis own. Though he be a smiling enemy, let liim heed thee as the fearless and the friendly ; V eearcliing look, a poignant word, may prove thou ar aware • 176 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. St'iJ, with compassion to tiie frail, though keen to see his soul, Le\ him not (bar for thy discretion : see thou keep his secret, and tliine own. However, where the flattery is gross, a falsehood clear and fulsome, Crush the venomous toad, and spjirc not for a jewel in his head. Tell the presumptuous in flattery, that or ever he bespatter thee with praise, It mi^lit be well to stop and ask how little it were worth : Thou hast not solicited his siiff^rage, — 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 waapons, But carrieth whip for flattery, to lash it like a slave : But the dunce in that great science goc-th 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 hath many present gains ; Those varnished wares may sell apace, yet shall they spoil thy credit. Tliine is the intoxicating cup, which whoso drinketh it shall nauseate; Thine is trickery and cheating ; but deception never pleased for long. And tliough, while fresh, thy fragrance seemed even as the dews of charity, Yet al'terward it fouled thy censer, as with savour of stale smoke. For the great mind detected thee at once, answering thine emptiness 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, if thou hast dubbed him great: And tlie medium mind of common men, loving first thy music. After, when the harmonies are done, shall feel small comfort in their echoes ; For either he shall know thee false, conscious of contrary deservings, And, hating thee for falsehood, soon will scorn himself for truth ; Or, if in aught to toilsome merit honest praise be due. Though for a season, belike, his weakness hath been raptured at thj witching, Shr.l he not speedily perceive, to the vexing of his disappointed spirit, Tiiat thine exaggerative tongue had robbed him of fair fame ? Thou hast paid in forg^-'s coins, and he hath earned tme money : OF FLATTERY. 177 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 thine 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 facination, but there hideth deformity behind ; Her coming is the presence of a queen, heralded by courtesy and beauty. But, going away, her train is held by the hideous dwarf. Disgust. Know thyself, thy 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 commana 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. Her aims are thine, not thee ; thy wealth, and not thy welfare ; Thy suffrage, not thy safety ; thine aid, and not thine honour. Moreover, with those aims insured, ceaseth all her glozing ; She hath used thee as a handle, — bat 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. Thinkest thou now that he is high, he loveth the remembrance of his low- liness, The servile manner, the dependent smile, the conscience selt-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 laugh, — silly one, to listen to thy loss, We scarce had hoped to Hme and take another of the ^ools of flattery. 8* J 78 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPPIY. At the Inst ; have diarity, young scholar, — yea, to the sycophant convicted ; Bo nol M Brutn^ lo tliy^flf, nor stern in thine own cause. Piinldu exa^jtrerated praise ; for there is a natural impulse Spiirrmc large and liberal in excuses ; is not that infirmity thine own ? Search thy soul a)id be hmnble ; and mercy abideth with hmnility ; So that, yea, the insincere, may tind the pitiful, and love thee. Mildly put aside, without rudeness of repulse, the pampering hand of flat* tery. For courtesy and kindness have gone beneath its guise, and ill shouldst thou rebuke them. Thon art incapable of theft : but flowers in the garden of a friend Are thine to pluck with confidence, and it were unfriendUness to hesitate } 1'hou abhorrest flattery : but a generous excess in praise Is thine to yield with honest heart, ar^l false were the charity to doubt it; The difl'erence lieth in thine aim ; k'»)dlineG3 and good are of charity, tJut sellish, hiirmful, vile, and bad, is battery's evil end. OF NEC^f.ECT. Generous and righteous is thy grief, sli,n;htpd child of sensibility ; For kindliness enkindleth love, but the watPrs of indifference quench it Thy soul is athrist for sympathy, and hung'^^reth to find afffection, Tht! tender scions of thy heart yearn for the supshine of good feeling; And it is an evil thing and bitter, when the cheerfu^ face of Charity, Going forth gayly in the morning to woo the vvorM with smiles, Is mot by those wayfaring men with coldness, suspicion, and repulse, And tun.eiu into hard dead stone at the Gorgon visage af Neglect. broiher, warm and young, covetous of others' favour, 1 see thee checked and chilled, sorrowing for censure or ^orgetf"lnes» l,ot coarse and common luinds despise — that wounding o*'thy vanity Alas, 1 note a sorer cause, the blighthkg of thy love; IjCt the callous sensual deride thee, — disappointed of thy praise, OP NEGLECT. 179 Alvis, thou nast a juster grief, defrauded of their kindness : It is a theme for tears to feel the soft heart liardeninnf, Tlie frozen breath of apathy sealing up tlie 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 / 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, And where rebuke is ridiculed, the love of praise were an infirmity ; The judge thou heedest not in fear, cannot have deep homage of tliy hope, And who then is the wise of this world, that will own he trembleth at his feUows ? 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 uf men, where each man cherisheth his sorrow ; A world full 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 works j 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 leaf drop off unnoticed ? Wondrous in architecture, intricate and beautiful, delicately tinged and scented. Exquisite of feeling and mysterious in life, none cared for its growth, <» its decay : None ? yea, — no one of its fellows, — nor cedar, palm, nor bramble — 160 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. None ? its tvvinborn 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 oe 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 ever present Good One, earning 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 avarice, 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 circiunstance, — And ye, too harshly judged, noble unappreciated intellects. Who, capable of highest, lowlier fix your just ambition in content, 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 witii 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 Ne^* lect, 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, OF NEGLECT. 181 Meek uncherished dove, in a carrion flock of fowls, Sensitive mimosa, slirinking from the winds that help to root the fir, Fragile nautilus, shipwrecked in the gale whereat the conch is glad, Thy sharp pecuhar grief is uncomforted by hope of compensation, For it is a dehcate and spiritual wound, which the probe of pity bruisetli j 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 Ughtly heed of other : Sympathy is lacking from the guilty such as we, even where angels minister. And souls of fine accord must prize a fellow-ainner'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 by 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 received, 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 plentitude ending in vacuity, Is as if the stable world had burst a hollow bubble. But, consider child of sensibility ; the lot ot men is labour. Labour for the mouth, or labour in the spirit, labour stern ana individual. Worldly cares and worldly hopes exact the thoughts of ull, And there is a necessary selfishness rooted in each mortal breast. The plans of prudence, or the whisperings of pride, or all-absorbing re- veries of love. Ambition, grief, or fear, or joy, set each man for himself: Therefore, the centre of a cycle, whereunto all the universe convergeth. 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 ; 182 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Other men, what are they unto us ? the age, the masn, the million, — 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 eartldy men, toiling in responsible probation. For each is the all unto liimself, 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 of 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 immortalitv ? 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 into 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 duplicity 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 sin shall be proclaimed upon the housetops. 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, msulted,— 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 soaled them his. For good men are the healtli of the world, valued only when it perishetb like water, light, and air, all precious in their .■;'>sonce. OF NEGLECT. 163 VVlio hath .considered the blessing of his Iffeath, till the poison of an asthnia struck him ? Who hath regarded the just pulses of his heart, till spasm or paralysis have stopped them ? Even thus, an imobserved 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 tlie conmioner ar» free ; And other rival men of mind crowd tliis 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 tilings operateth largely upon all men, Hedging us about with thorns, to cramp our yearning sympathies, Aiid we grow materialized in mind, forgetting what we see not. But, immersed in perceptions of the present, keep tilings absent out of thought : Thus, where ingratitude, and guilt, and labour, and selfishness would harden, Humbly \vui the good man bow, unmurmuring, to Neglect. Yet once more, griever at Neglect, hear me to thy comfort, or rebuke : For, after all thy just complaint, the world is full of love. O heart of childliood, tender, trusting, and affectionate, O youth, warm youth, full of generous attentions, O woman, self-forgetting woman, poetry of human life ; And not less thou, O man, so often the disinterested brother, IMany 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 earth, And many a rosebud of love rejoiceth in the dew of your affection. 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 tlie afflicted, whose voice, once heard, stirreth not a host of com forters ? 184 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Where is the sick untended, or in prison, and they visited iiim rx>t ? The luiiigry 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 circumstance and time. And if to the body, so to the mind, the mass of men are generous : riieir 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 unworthy , 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 deservings ; Let it suffice thee to be worthy ; faint not thou for praise ; For that thou art, be grateful ; go humbly even in thy confidence ; And set thy foot on 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 tlie 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 ga.n [)ertaineth to the pillars, nets and chains of wreathen gold. And Ihey sttmd up straight in the temple porch, the house where Glory dwelleth. The body craveth meats, and the spirit is athirst for peacefulness • He that hath these, hath enough ; for all beyond is vanity. OF CONTENTMENT- 186 Rurfeit vuulteth 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, li 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 contentment thajD 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 liis 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, iJiankful for much, and imcomplaining in his poverty ; Such an one have I somewhile 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 i lortherless child beside him, To rest them in the cheerful sun, and sort then mints and horehound, — 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 tliat poor picker of the ditches, Than among the multitude of wealtliy who wed their gains to discontent. I have seen many rich, burdened with the fear of poverty ; I have seen many poor, buoyed wdth 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 enjoy ment. None is poor but the mean in mind, the timorous, the weak, and unbe- lieving ; 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 tlie other warneth from him by his gloom. Many poor have the pleasures of the rich, even in their own possessions ; 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 weal- thy; But he that is tlisenth railed from fear, goeth for the time a king ; iof FROVERBIAL riilLOSOFHY. He is royal, great, and opulent, living free of fortune, And loolung on the world as owner of its good, the Maker's child and h<*. 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 apprehension, And his thirst for gold could never be quenched, for he drank with tJw tln-oat of Crassus. (") Vanity and dreary disappointment, care, and weariness and envy ; 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 Ambition, 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 merchandise, 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 gray, 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 posses* sions. 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 sliip foundered out at sea, — and another met the pinite, — And so, with broken fortunes, men discreetly shunned him. He was a stricken stag, and went to hide away in solitude, OF CONTENTMENT. 187 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 afflu- ence, He saved witli 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 hved at peace by day : Cured of his guilty selfishness, — money's love, envy, competition, — le lived to be thankful in a ». ^Dttage 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 creasures iii " iven, And great liis joys on earth, for God's sake doing good : He had few cares and many consolations, one of the welcome every here ; The labourer accounted him his friend, and magnates did him ha- 'ur at their table : VVith 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 fortunes ? 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 of the grea;' : He thirsted for emoluments and honours, and counted rich men liappy : So he flattered, so he preached ; and gold and fame flowed in; They flowed in, — he was reaping his reward, — and he felt himself a f jol, Alas, what a shadow was he following, — how precious was the s> liAjnM he had left ! Man fof 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. 188 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. His little farm and flower-beds, — his recreative rambles with a friend, And haply at the 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 ambitions. Then, for God w^as 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 contentment 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 lie 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 vagrant 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. 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 condition 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 u thought unvowed to 1- ve and beauty : OF LIFE. li» The stars, and the sleeping world, and the guardian eye of God, The murmur of the distant waterfall, and nightingales warbUng in tha 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 aifection, VVliile theii 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, tliy feelings pure and sensitive. A man sat beside his merchandise, a careworn altered man, His waking hope, his nightly fear, were money and its losses : Rarely was the laugh upon the cheek, except in bitter scorn, For his fooUshness of heart, and the lie of its romance, counting Love a treasure. His talk is of stem Reality, chilling unimaginative facts, The dull material accidents of this sensual body ; Lucreless honour were contemptible, impoverished aifection 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, T'hy soul is parched, thy winds are fierce, and the suns above thee hau- dening. A withered elder lay upon his bed, a desolate man and feeble ; His thoughts were of the past, the early past, the bygone 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 b'.« selfishness. For the sunshiny morning of life came again tc him a vivid truth. But the years of toil as a long dim dream, a cloudy blighted noon : He saw the nutting schoolboy, but forgat the speculative merchant ; The callous calculating husband was shamed by the generous lover : BO PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. He knew that the weeds of worldliness, and the smoky breath of Mamm •• Had choked and killed those tender shoots, his yearnings after honour and affectioii : So was he sick at heart, and my pity strove to cheer him, But a deep and dismal gulf 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 com- plaining : ■" Wlierefore 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 snarod, and to sink, in the turbid mud-pool of reality." Suddenly, a light, — and a rushing presence, — and a consciousness of something near me, — 1 trembled, and listened, and prayed : then I knew the Angel of Life : Vague, and dimly visible, mine eye could not behold him. As, calmly unimpassioned, he looked upon an erring creature : 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 destroy 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 remaiu. Sweet ideals feed the soul, thoughts of loveliness delight it ; The chivalrous affection of uncalculating youth Jacketh not honourable wisdom. Charge not folly on invisibles, that render thee happier and purer : Tlie fair frail visions of Romance have a use beyond the maxims jf the Real 3F LIFE. 131 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 Ideal. 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 unsyrapathizing modern, filled with facts and figures, Cautious and coarse, and materialized in mind, that man is his pity. Passionate thirst for gain never hath burnt witliin his bosom ; The leaden chains of that dull lust have not bound him prisoner : The shrewd world laughed at him for honesty, the vain world mouthed al him for honour, The false world hated him for truth, the cold world despised him fof 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 the wholesome spirit of Rom ance^ 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 indolence, Make the mass of vital years a hea\y lump unleavened. Drowsily lie down in thy dullness, fettered with the irons of circumstance Thou wilt not wake to think and feel a minute in a month. The epitome of common life is seen in the common opitaph, Born on such a day, and dead on such another, with an int'^^rvai of three* score years. For time hath been wasted on the senses, to the hourly dimniismng ol spirit ; Lean is the soul and pineth, in the midst of abundance for the body : He forgat the world to which he tended, and a creature's true nobility. 192 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Nor wished that hope and wholesome fear should stir him from his hardened satisfiiction. And tnis is death in life ; to be sunk beneath the waters of the Actual, Without one feebly-struggPhig sense of an airier spiritual realm : Affection, fancy, feeling — dead ; imagination, conscience, faith, All wilfully expunged, till they leave the man mere carcass. 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. A man will grow to an automaton, an appendage to tlie 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 atrection. And vipers hide among the grass, and briers are woven in tne hedges : Shortly, staked along in order, stand the slender 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 tj the portal, traveller, — lo, there is a moon, With fcimiling light to guide thee safely through the dreadful shade : OF DEATH. li:: Hark, — that holl nv knock, — behold, the warder openeth, The gate is gaping, and for tliee ; — those are the iaws of Death ! OF DEATH. Keep silence, daughter of frivolit}^ — for Death is in that chamber ! Startle not with echoing sound the strangely solemn peace. 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 tlie head, and he standeth at the feet, and hideth in t'ly 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 \\ith him to the grave, that dismal banquet-hall, Where in foul state the Royal Goul holdeth secret orgies. Hide 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 witn herbfl and cattle. But God hath watched those morsels, and hath guided them in care : Each waiting soul must claim his own, when the archangel soundetn, And all the fields, and all the hills, shall move a mass of lire ; Bodies numberless, crowding on the land, and covering the trampled sea, 9 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Darkening the air precipitate, and gathered scatheless from the fire ; The Himalayan peaks shall yield their charge, and the desolate steppes oi Siberia, The Maelstrom disengulf its spoil, and the iceberg manmnit 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 ditferent in glory. This body shall be shaped anew, fit dwelling for the soul : 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 fiside ? Many years, for joy and sorrow, have I dwelt in thee, How shall I be reckless of thy weal, nor hope for thy perfection ? This also, He that lent thee for my uses in mortalitv, Shall well fulfill 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 azur!>, Crowned by consenting nations peerless queen of sfayety : She laugheth at the wrath of Ocean, she mocketh the furv of Vesuvius, She spurneth disease and misery and famine, that crowd her sunny street: The giddy dance, the merry song, the festal glad procession, The noonday slumber and the midnight serenade, — all these make up hei Life; Her Life ?— and what her Death ?— look we to the end of life, — Solon, and Tell us the Athenian, wisely have ye pointed to the grave. For behold yon dreary precinct, — ^those hundreds of stone wells, — (**) \ pit for a day, a pit for a day, — a pit to be sealed for a year . OF DEATH. 195 And in the gloom of night, they raised the year-closed lid, — Look in — for gnawing lime hath half consumed the carcasses ; Thus, tliey hurl the daily dead into that horrible pit, The dead that only died this day, — as unconsidered offal ! There, a stark white heap, unwept, unloved, uncared for, Old men and maidens, young men and infants, mingle in hideous comi][> tion: 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 ItaHan suns, Should meet the solemnity of Death m 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, that wage of guilt, that due return to dust. The grave, thai 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, anxl consecrating blessings : liet Sophocles sleep among his ivy, green perennial garlands, (^') Let olives shade their Virgil, and roses bloom above Corinne ; To his foster-mother, Ocean, intrust 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 li\ing, Nor steal from odious realities the charitable poetry of Death : It is wise to gild uncomeliness, it is wise to mask necessity, ft is wise from cheerful sights and sounds to draw their gent.e usea ; lyS PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Hide the facts, the bitter facts, the foul and fearful facts, Tend the bcxiy well in hope, this were praise and wisdom ', But to plunge in gloom the parting soul, that liath loved its clay tenement so long, This were vanity and folly, the counsel of moroseness and despair. Not thus the Scythian of old time welcomed Death with songs ; Not thus the shrewd Egyptian decorated Death with braveries ; Not thus on his funeral tower sleepeth the sun-worshipping Parsee ; \ot 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 de- parted ! 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 simpla vanity, — To pray with all the earnestness of nature for souls who cannot change. For the tree is felled, and houghed, 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 vntness ; The trid is over, the jury are gone in, and none can nov/ be heard ; Well are they agreed upon tlie verdict, just, and fixed, and final. And the sentence showeth clear before the Judge hath spoken : Now — wnile resting matter is at peace within the tomb. The conscious spirit watclieth in unspeakable suspense ; Racked with a fearful looking forward, or blissfully feeding on the fore- taste, Waiting souls in eager ex})ectation pass the solemn interval ; They slumber not in death, but awaken, quickened ti "> tlie terror of the judgment ; OF DEATH. 19? They lie not insensate among darkness, but exult, looking to the light. Idiocy, brightening on tlie 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 soul is one, though manifold in act, working the machinery of brain, Reason, fancy, conscience, passion, are but varying phases ; l£, in God's wise purpose, tlie 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 intelhgent. 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 wild, 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 estaiv lished ; O Death, what art thou ? a stem and silent usher. Leading to the judgment for Eternity, after the trial scene of time ; O Death, what art thou ? an husbandman, that reapeth always, Out of season, as in season, with the sickle in his hand : O Death, Vvhat 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 ana 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 fuU of hope, loometh inevitable Death : 19b proverbial philosophy. Of dread, for all have sinned ; of hope, for One hath saved ; The dread is drowned in joy, the hope is filled with immortality ! — Pass alontr, ])iloTim of Ufe, go to thy grave unfearing, The terrors are bu. shadows now that haunt the vale of Death. OF IMMORTALITY. 3iRD up thy mind to contemplation, trembling inliabitant of earth ; Tenant of a hovel for a day, — thou art heir of the universe for ever ! For, neither congealing of the grave, nor gulfing 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 Omnipotence. 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 creac ture ; Freely unto each, universally to all, is restored the privilege of essencp ^ Whether unto grace or guilt, all must live through Him, Live in vital joy, or live in dying woe : Deatn m Adam, life in Christ ; the curse hung upon the cross : OF IMMORTALITY. 191' Who art thou that heedest of redemption, as narrower than the fall ? All were dead, — He died for all ; that living, they might love ; Tf living souls withhold their love, — still. He hatli died for them. Eve stole the knowledge ; Christ gave the life : Knowledge and Hfe are the perquisites of soid, 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 Hfe 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 oui' 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. NoR'^ can escape from Adam's guilt, or second Adam's guerdon : Sin and death are tliine ; 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 gi'ace 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 x\tonement, Here is the creature feehng for its God, and the prodigal returning to his Father. But, behold, his reasonable children, standing in just probation, With ears to hear, neglect ; with eyes to see, refuse : They will not have the blessing with the life, the blessing that enricheth immirtalitv ; 200 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. And look for pleasures out of God, for heaven in life alone : So tliey snatcli tliat 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 e\il to a curse, — it were better he had not been bo i Therefore hope, thou saint, for the gift of immortality is free ; Take and Uve, and live in love : fear not, thou art redeemed ! '^ ne happy life, that height of hope, the knowledge of all good, -l^nis 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 unpenitence, 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 their woe by looking upon love, and hating it : The righteous find their joys in yearning on its loveliness for evor. Who shall imagine Immortality, or picture its illimitable prospect ? How feebly can a faltering tongue express the vast idea ! For consider the primeval woods that bristle over broad Australii, And count their autumn leaves, millions multiplied by millions ; Thence look up to a moonless sky from a sleeping isle of the iEgasan, And add to those leaves yon starry host, sparkling on the midnight, nunv- berless ; Thence traverse an Arabia, some continent of eddying sand. Gather each grain, let none escape, add them to the leaves and to the stars. Afterwards gaze upon the sea, the thousand leagues of an Atlantic, Take drop by drop, and add their sum to the grains, and leave:^, and stars ; The drops of ocean, the desert sands, the leaves, and stars innumerable. Albeit, in that multitude of multitudes, each small unit were an age,) All might reckon for an instant, a transient flash of Time, Compared with this intolerable blaze, the measureless enduring of Eteiv nity ! O grandest gift of the Creator, — O largess worthy ot 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 snn is life, to all beneath its beams : Who shall arrest it in the firmament, — or drag i,t from its sphere ? OF IMMORTALITY. 901 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 doubtf, That God shaL 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 iFoment thou art not, thou mightest as well not have been ; A millennium and an hour are equal in the gulf of that desolate abyss, annihilation : If Adam had existed till to-day, and to-day had perished utterly, What were his gain in the length of a hfe, that hath passed away for ever ? No tribute of thanks can exhale from the empty censer of nonentity ; 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 consciousness , He may fly to many lands, but cannot flee himself : The soil wherein ye drop the seed, by sims or rains may vary : But the seed is the same ; and soul is the seed ; and flesh but its anchor- age to earth. The 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 mmd ? 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 illus- tration • 902 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Mind is one, be it casual or ideal ; bat it is sI\own in these. The creature is constructed individual, for triaJ of his reasonable wiH, Clay and soul commingled wisely, mingled, ncf confused : As power is not in the spring, till somewhat gWo it action, So until spirit be infused, the organism lieth inirgetic. Or shalt thou say that mind is the delicate ofFspi 'iig of matter. The bright consummate flower that must perish with its leaf? Go to : doth weight hreed hghtness ? is freedom the atmosphere o*" 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 il ? Nay, cold clod, never canst thou generate a flame, Nay,^ most exquisite machinery, nevermore elaborate a i vvi ; Rather do ye battle and contend, opposite the one to the ncher ; Till God shall stop the strife, and call the body colleague. Garment of flesh, and art thou then a vest, so tinged with scl^^V* poi** m, (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 hfe is in that germ : Moreover. Marah shall be sweetened ; and a Good Physician Yet shall heal those gangrene wounds, the spotted plague of sin : He, througi) worldly trials, and the separative cleansing of the grsvi Shall change its corruptible to glory, and wash that garment white. 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 tliis 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 nerveo; OF IMMORTALITY. 203 But madness proA eth mind ; t le fault is in the engine, not the impetus : Dissipate the mists of matter, io, the soul is clear : Timour's cage bowed it in the dust, but now it goeth forth a freeman. Yet more, there is reason in moralities, that the soul must Uve ; 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 unlieard ? Is there no recompense for woe, — must there be no other world fo 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 depraved ? Yet again ; mine erring brother, pardon this abundance of my speech Yield me thy candour and thy charity, listening with a welcome : For, even now, a thousand thoughts are trooping to my theme ; 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 ev\\ 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 moun tains ; That yew-tree of a thousand years was once a little seed ; And Nero's marble Rome, a shepherd's mud-built hovel : A speck is on the tropic sky, and it groweth to the terrible tomadc , A.n apple, all too fair to se^, destroyed a world of souls • 204 PROVERBIAL PPIILOSOPHY. 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 everlasting, Consider, may it be impossible that creatures were counted in their Maker, I And so, that the confines of eternity are filled by God alone ? iTrust not thy soul upon a fancy : who would freight a bubble with a dia- mond, And launch that priceless gem on the boiling rapids of a cataract ? If then we perish not at death, but walk in spirit through the darkness, 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 an end, behold the Sabbath morning. Is Death to be conqueror again, and claim once more the victory, — Can the enemy's corpse awaken into life, and bruise the Champion'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 justice, — When Truth, that swore unto his neighbour, disappointeth him, and cleaveth to a lie, — When the counsels of Wisdom are confounded, and Love warreth witi 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 fearfa tliing, OF IMMORTALITY. iiU5 To lay snrh 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, tliis might pass for truth : But all thuigs are marshalled by Design, and carefully tended by Benevo- lence. O man, thy Judge is righteous, — noting, remembering, and weighing ; Want, ignorance, diversities of state, are cast into the balance of advantage : The poisonous example of a parent asketh for allowance in a child ; Care, diseases, toils, and frailties, — all things are considered. And again, a mysterious Omniscience knoweth the spirits that are liis, While the delicate tissues of Event are woven by the fingers of Ubiquity. Should Providence be taken by surprise from the possible impinging of an accident. One fortuitous grain might dislocate the banded universe : The merest seeming trifle is ordered as the morning light ; 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 Hghtly 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 ! xShall 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 of Immortality There still be clouds of witnesses, — if thou art not weaiy of my speech,—- Flocks of thoughts adding lustre to the light, and pointing on to Ldfe. For reflect how Truth and Goodness, well and wisely put, Coimnend themselves to every mind with wondrous intuition : L 2u6 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. What IS this ? the recognition of a standard, unwritten, natural, uniform i TeUing" of one common source, the root of Good and True. And if thus present soul can trace descent from Deity, J3eing, as it standeth, individual, a separate reasonable thing. What sliould liinder tliat 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 Mel chisedek of old. Having not begiiming, nor end of days, but present in the majesty of Peace : O fiilse scholar, credulous in vanities, and only skeptical of truth. Wherefore toil to cheat thy soul of its birthright, Immortiility ? 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 DespEui ; Even for thy full-blown pride, is it much to be receiver of a God ? And lo, t"hy 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 tliee that passest by ? For it is a 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 have all that thou hast. The buoyancy of life as strong, and term of days no shorter ; My cup is full witli gladness, — my griefs are not more galling : 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, — while 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 fountam of delight, A .-spice in every pleasure, and a balm for every pain : O precious wise delusion, scattering both misery and sin, — O vile and silly truth, depraving wbile it cursoth ! OF IMMORTALITY. 207 Darkling child of knowledge, comnmne with Socrates and Cicero : They had no prejudice of birth, no dull parental warpings ; See. those histrous rnindr^ anticipate the dawning day, — UTiilst thou, poor mole, art burrowing back to darkness from tli p light I 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 liope, Than, in the company of sages, to win the substance of despair : But here, the sages hope ; — despair is witli the fools, T'he base bad hearts, the stolid heads, the sensual, and the selfish. And wilt thou, sorry scomer, mock the phrase, despair ? Despair for those who die and Uve, — for me, I live and die ; Wliat have I to do Avith 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 tliine answer from the ancientf ■ 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 : War produccth peace, and peace is wanton unto war ; Light dieth into darkness, and night dawneth into day ; The rotting jungle reeds scatter fertility around ; The buffiilo'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. So, is death an end, — but it breedeth an infinite beginning ; Limits are for time, and death killed time ; Eternity's beginning is for eve?. Ambition, hath it any goal indeed ? is not all fruition, disappointment ? A step upon the ladder, and another, and another, — we start from e ,ery end ' Look to the eras of mortality ; babe, student, man. The husband, the father, the deathbead of a saint, — and is it t) : i ijl end % That common climax. Death, shall it lead to notliing ? How strong a root of causes, flowering a consequence of vap , That solid chain of facts, is it snapped for ever ? IIow stout a show of figures, weakly summing to nonentity. 208 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Or haply, Death, in the doublings of thy thought, shall seem continuoiia endhig : A duTi eternal slumber, not an end abrupt. most futile chrysalis, wherefore dost thou sleep ? Dreamless, unconscious, never to awake, — what object in such slumDei ? If thou art still to live, it may as well be wakefully as sleepmg : 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 dreameth, though all be forgotten afterwards : The muscles seek relaxing, and the irritable nerves ask peace : But Hfe is a constant force, spirit an unquietable impetus ; The eye may wear out as a telescope, and the brain work slow as a ma- chine. 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 Ufe, as darkness absent light : Not even a suspension, for the life hath sailed away, steering gladly some where. And corruption, closely noted, is but a dissolving of the parts, The parts remain, and notliing lost, to build a better whole. Moreover, mind is unity, however versatile and rapid ; Thou canst not entertain two coincident ideas, although they quickly fol- low : And Unity hath no parts, so that there is nothing to dissolve ; ,And 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 hfe, and therefore I shall hve ; So long as He Is God, I shall be liis Creature ! And here, slirewd rea'^onerj so eager to prove that thou must perish, I note a sneer upon thy lij), and ridicule is haply on tliy tongue : How, said he, — creature of a God, and are not all his creatures, — OF IMMORTALITY. 20S 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 commission . But of the twain it is the likelier ; continuance is the chance : Men, dying in their sins, are Ukened unto beasts that perish : They are 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 creature ; Who told thee tliey die at dissolution ? boldly think it out, — The multitude of flies, and the multitude of herbs, the world with all its bet ings : Is Infinity too narrow, Omnipotence too weak, and Love so anxious to des troy ? 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 : The master is an idol to his dog, who cannot rise beyond him ; And void of capabihty for God, there would seem small cause for an in- finity. Therefore, caviller, my poor thoughts dare not grant they live ; But is it not a great tiling to assume their annihilation — and thine own ? Would it be much if a speck on space, this globe with all its millions, Verily, after its pollution, were suffered to exist in purity ? Or much, if guiltless creatures, that were cruelly entieated upon earth, Found some commensurate reward in lower joys hereafter ? Or much, if a Creator, prodigal of life, and filled with the profundity of love, Rejoice in all creatures of his skill, and lead them to peifection in theu kind? O man, there are many marvels ; yet life is more a mystery than death : For deatli may be some stagnant hfe, — but life is present God ! j Many are the lurking holes of evil ; who shall search them out ? 210 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Who so skilled to cut away the cancer with its fibres ? For wily miiuis with sinuous ease escape from lie to lie ; And cowards driven f'"oai the trench steal back to liide 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 v/ith unbelief : When was there candour in a caviller, and who can satisfy the faithless 7 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 : Go to : be mine the gain : we measure swords no more : Go, — and a word go with thee, — Man, thou art Immortal ! Child of light, and student in the truth, too long have I forgotten thee : Lo, after parley with an alien, let me hold sweet converse with a brother. Glorious hopes, and ineffable imaginings, crowd our holy theme. Fear hath been slaughtered on the portal, and Doubt driven back to darkness : For Christ hath died, and we in Him ; by faith His all is ours, — Cross and crown, and love, and fife ; 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 indefinite ex- pansion. 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, Therefoie worthy of the cre?*ure, worthy of an angel's seeking ; I Oi .MM JKIALIT^. 211 Jfea, and human knowledge, meagre though the harvest, Hatli its roots, both deep and strong ; but the plants are exotic to the climate A.11 we seem to know demand a longer learning, History, and science, and prophecy, and art, are workings aU of Grod : 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 panteth for adventure, waiting at the cave of mystery : ' Not in vain the cup of curiosity, sweet and richly spiced. Is ruby to the sight, and ambrosia to the taste, and redolent with aL fra^"*ance : Thou shalt (. 'nk, and deeply, filling the mind with marvels ; Thou shalt wai. h no more, hngering, 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 turn 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 ecstasies of freedom shall be felt. And the soul reign gloriously, risen to its royal destinies : I look to recognize again, through the beautiful mask of their perfection, 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 the rapids : \ He shall be the focus of it all, the very heart of gladness, — My soul is atliirst for God, the God who dwelt in Man ! Prophet, priest, and king, the sacrifice, the substitute, the Saviour, Rapture of tlie 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 k, the heavenly Jerusalem, with all its gates one pearl. 212 PROVr:RBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Tliat pearl of countless price, the door by which we enteied, — Come, tread the golden streets, and join tliat glorious tlirong, The liaj)))y ones of heaven and earth, ten thousand times ten thousand : Hark, they sing that song, — and cast their crowns before Him ; Their souls alight with Love, — Glory, and Praise, and Lnmortality ! V^eil thine eyes : no son of time may see that holy vision. And even the seraph at thy side hath covered his face with wings. Doth he not speak parables ? — each one goeth on his way : Ye that hear, and I that counsel, go on our ways forgetful. For the terrible realities whereto we tend, are hidden from our eyes, — We know bnt'heed them not, and walk as if the temporal were all tliinga Vanities buzzing on tlie ear, fill its drowsy chambers. Slow to dread those coming fears, the thunder and the trumpet ; Motes streaming 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 bat 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 Immortality , OF IDEAS. MiND is like a volatile essence, flitting hither and thitn?!r, A solitiiry sentinel of the fortress body, to show himself every where bj turns : Mii^ is indivisible and instant, with neither parts nor organs. OF IDEAS. 213 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 tliereof be dis arranged. But the particle of Deity in man slumbereth not, neither can be wearied . However swift to change, even as the field of a kaleidoscope, It taketh in but one idea at once, moulded for the moment to its 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 envirrap a world, collapsing to prison up an at6m : 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 suc- cession. So, the mind of a man, single, and perpetually moving. Flickering about from tliought to thought, changed with each idea, For the passing second metamorphosed to the image of that within its ken. And throwing its immediate perceptions into each cause of contemplation. 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 temptation ; 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 witti antipathy frooa evil : For use will mould and mark it, or non-usage 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 a Moses, in his parables. Preach in terms that all may learn, the philosophic lessons of analogy ; And here, in a topic immaterial, tlie likeness of analogy is just ; By habits, knit the nerves of mind, and train the gladiator shrewdly : 214 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. For thonirlit shall strengthen thinking, and imagery speed imag^naxlo* Until thy spiritual inmate shall have swelled to the giant of Otranto. Nevertheless, heed well, that this Athlete, growing in thy brain, Ce a wholec^onie Genius, not a cur»ed Afrite And see thou discipline his strength, and poirt 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 fortli 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 common 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 sj)eak and slow to tliink, dreading liis own dim conscience ; And solitude is terrible, and exile worse than death, He cannot dwell apart, nor breathe at a distance from the crowd ; fBut minds of nobler stiimp, 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 tlie way, Nor drink of other wells than their own inner fountain. Strange shall it seem how little such a man will lean upon tlie 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 liim, 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 sconi that sublimated wisdon\ His eyes may open on a prison-cell, but the bare walls glow with imagery; His ears moy be filled with execration, but are hstening to the music of sweet thourrhts ; Ho may dwell in a hovel with a hero's heart, and canopy liis penury witli peace, For mind is a kingdom to the man, who gatheretli his pleasure from Ideas. ft' I OF NAMES. 215 OT NAMES. A.D1M gave the name, when the Lord had made his creature. For GoJ led them in review, to see what man would call them . As they strack 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 hia roaring, The tree by its use, and the flower by its beauty, and every thing accord ing to its truth. • There is an arbitrary name, whereunto the idea attacheth • And there is a reasonable name, linking its fitness to idea : Yet shall these twain ran 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 in the sound, as some have vainly fancied. The same tone in diiTerent tongues shall be suitable to opposite 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 tlien of fountain ? — flowing silver in the sun- Many a fair flower is burdened with preposterous appellatives. Which the wiser simplicity of rustics 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 particulars Through a character obvious to all men, and worthy of their instant acceptation. The herbalist had a simple cause for every word upoa his vatalogue, But now the mouth of Botany is filled with empty sound ; And many a peasant hath an answer on his tongue, concerning some vexea flower, Siirewder tlian the centipede phrase wherewithal pliilosophers invest it 316 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. 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 de- solation, And, for some simple patron's sake, shall name that land, the happy : The fossihst hath found a bone, the rib of some huge lizard. And forthwith standeth to it sponsor, to tack himself on reptiie mimor- talities : 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 some 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 neal associations. Contributed their syrnbolings 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 qnaUties ; Horns of power, feathers of the swift, mitres of catholic dominion, The sovereign asps, the circle everiasting, 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, ThermopylaB, And Hiero with his bounding ships all figured at the prow. And Rome's PrsBtorian standards, piled with strange devices. And stout crusaders pressing to the battle, locked in shining steel, — These all in their speaking symbols, earned, or wore, a name. Eve, the mother of all living, and Abraham, father of a multitude, ^acob, the supplanter, and David the beloved, and all the worthies of old time, I OF NAMES. 217 Ntah, who came for consolation, and Benoni, son of sorrow, Kings and prophets, cliildren of the East, owned each liis title of sigiiifi* cance. There be names of high descent, and thereby storied honours ; Names of fair reno-wn, 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 mammoth. Yet shall ye find tlie trader's babe dignified with sounding titles, And httle hath the father guessed the harm he did his child : For either may they breed him discontent, a peevish repining at his sta- tion, 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 lolly, 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 hkewise with his nursHng. Give tliy child a fit distinguishment, making him sole tenant of a name, For it were a sore hindrance to hold it in common with a hundred ; In the Babel of confused identities fame is little feasible, The felon shall detract from the philanthropist, and the sage share hon- ours with the simple : Still, in thy title of distinguishment, fall not into arrogant assumption. Steering from caprice and afiectations ; and for all tliou doest, have a it«» son. lie that is ambitious for his son, should give him untried names, For those that have served other men, haply may injure by their evila ; Or otherwise may hinder by their glories ; thorefore set him by himself, To win for his individual name some clear specific praise. I There were nine Homers, all goodly sons of song ; but wtiere is iifly p reconl of tlie eight ? 218 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. One grew to fame, an Aaron's rod, and swallowed up his Drethren (••) Who knoweth ? more distinctly titled, those dead eight had lived ; "But the censers were ranged in a circle, to niingle their sweets without a difference. Art thou named of a common crowd, and sensible of high aspirings ? Tt is hard for tliee to rise, — yet strive : thou mayst be among them a Musaeus. Art thou named of a family, the same in successive generations ? It is open to thee still to earn for epithets, such au 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, Uke 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 fi;xed in light : Then, safe within a better home, where time and its titles are not found, 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 witn the feathered flock oJ thoughts. The idea of a thing hath the nature of its Soul, r. separate seemmg 3s ftence : 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 creature, OF THINGb. 919 Compacted three in one, as all inrngs eise wimm 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 harrnonizmg well, and mingled each witli 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 deepe: mystery, — which none, I wot, can fatliom, Matter, different from properties whereby the solid substance is described For, size and weigrit, cohesion and the like, Uve distinct from matter. Yet who car Image matter, unendow^ed with size and w^eight ? As in thfc spiritual, go 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 indivisi'jle. 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 : For an atom runneth to infinity, and never shall be caught in space, And a molecule is no more indivisible than Saturn's belted orb. Things intangible, multiplied by multitudes, never will amass to substance, Neither can a tiling which may be touched, be made of impalpable pro- portions ; The sum of indivisibles must needs be indi\asible, as adding many nolhings. And the building up of atoms into matter is but a silly sophism ; Lucretius and keen Anaximander, and many that have followed 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 unconering, indivisibles and therefore 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 Burraan With mythologic shapes adorn their coarse pantheon ; *''^* gs breed t'loughts ; therefore the statue and the picture. 220 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Relics, rosaries, and miracles in act, quicken the Papist in his wonsiLs. Thinws breed thoughts ; therefore tlie lovers at their parting, liiteaOuingfd with tearful smiles the dear reminding tokens ; Things breed thoughts ; tliercfore, \^hen the clansman met his foe, The blnod-stained claymore in lis hand revived the memories of vengeanc* Tilings teach with double force ; through the f,nima eye, and tlirooira the mina, And the eye catchoth in an instant, what the ear shall not learn within rja 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, hved 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. And reaped his knowledge 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, conversant 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 intellect. Rather than visions of fancy, filling all the chambers with a vapour. For, in ideas, the great mind will exaggerate, and the lesser extenuate truth : But in Things the one is chastened, and the other quickened, to equality . And in Names, — though a property be told, rather than an arbitrary . accident, •Jtill shall the thought be vague or false, if none hath seen the Thing ; for in Things the property with accident standeth in a mass concrete, These cannot cheat the sense, nor elude the vigilance of spirit. Travel is a ceaseless fount of surfhce education. But its wisdom will be simply superficial, if thou add not thoughts to things : Yet, aided by tlie varnish of society, things may serve for thoughts. Till many dullards that have seen the world shall pass for scholars : Because one single glance will conquer all descriptions, Though grapliic, tliese left some unsaid, though true, these tended to som« error, A.nd the most witless eye that saw, had a juster notion of its object Than the shrewdest mind that hoard and shaped its gathered thoughts ol Things. OF FAITH. 231 OF FAITH. CopviDENCi was bearer of the palm ; for it looked like conviction of desert. And where the strong is well assured, the weaker soon allow it. jlilaieaty and beauty are commingled, in moving with immutable decision, And well may charm the coward hearts that turn and hide for fear. Faith, firmness, confidence, consistency, — ^these are well allied ; Yea, let a man press on in aught, he shall not lack of honour : For such an one seemeth as superior to the native instability of creatures : That he doeth, he doeth as a god, and men will marvel at his courage. Even in crimes a partial praise cannot be denied to daring, And many fearless chiefs have won the friendship of a foe. Confidence is conqueror of men ; victorious both over them and in 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 nobler strife the giants that had fled : The tenderest child, unconscious of a fear, will shame the man to danger, And v/hen 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 stJirtling strength ; the mouse may fright a lion, And oftentimes the horned herd is scared by some brave cur. Courage hath analogy with faith, for it standeth both in animal 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 wonders : Never was a mars^el done upon the earth, but it had sprung of faith : Nothing noble, generous, or great, but faith was the root of the achieve- ment ; 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 fc.ith 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 faitL\ was valiant for her son, and Wallace mighty for his people : 222 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. I Faith in his reason made Socrates sublime, as fiiith in his science, Galilee Ambassadors in faith are bold, and unreproved for boldness : Faith iiroc'd Fabiiis to delays, and sent forth Hannibal to Cannag : Cffi.sar at the llnbicon, Miltiados at Marathon : both were sped by faith. I set iiDl all ii; equal s^plicres : 1 number not the martyr with the patriot; I claSvS not the hero with his horse, because the twain have courage : But only for ensample and instruction, that all things stand by faith ; Albeit faitli of divers kinds, and varying in degrees. There is faith towards men, and there is faith towards God ; The latter is the gold, and the former is the brass ; but both are sturdj metid : And 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 the way against the foes that hem tliee ; Trust in G(xl, 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 melt 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 agression, is quite disarmed by charity ; And that warm sun will thaw the heart case-hardened by long frost. Treat men gently, trust them strongly, if tho\i wish their weal ; Or cautious doubts and bitter thoughts will tempt the best to foil thee ; Believe the well in sanguine hope, and thou shalt reap the better ; But if thon 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 evfin weep to feel liimself so little worth 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 faith. l^ook aside to lack of faith, the mass of ills it bringeth ; W\ things treacherous, base, and vile, dissolving the brotherhood of men Bonds break ; the cement hath lost its hold, and each is separate from other ; OF FAITH. 225 rhat which should be neighbourly and good, is cankered into bitternest and e\il. 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 hne suggest the picture. For if, in thine own home, a cautious man and captious. Thou hintest at suspicion of a ser\'ant, thou soon wilt make a thief; Or if, too keen in care, thou dost evidently disbelieve thy child, Thou hast injured the texture of his honour, and smoothed to him th€ way of lying : Or if thou ob.-ervest upon friends, as seeking thee selfishly for interoit. Thou hast hurt their kindliness to thee, and shalt be paid with scorn ■ Or if, O silly ones of marriage, your foul and foolish thoughts, Hashly 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 unbeUef ; 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. \y 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 gulf midway, but the air is breathable about him : Thrust him not from that slight hold, to perish in the vapours underneath, For, God pleadeth with the deaf, as having ears to hear, Jhrist speaketh to the dead, as those that are capable of living ; And an e\il teacher is that man, a tempter to much sin, \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 have charity, and faith. Somewhiles have 1 watched a man exchanging the sobriety of faith. 5*24 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. Old lamps for new, — even for fanatical excitements. He gained surface, but lost solidity ; heat, in lieu of health ; And still with swelhng words and thoughts he scorned his ancient coldness But his strength was shorn as Samson's ; he walked he knew not whither ; Doubt was on his daily path ; and duties showed not certain; Until, in an hour of entliusiasm, 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 Iiis 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 to despair ; So he lay in his blood, the \dctim of a credulous false faith. And many nights, and night-like days, he dwelt in outer darkness, But, within a w^iile, liis 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 than before. Experience had declared too well his mind was built of water, And so renouncing strength in self, he fixed his faitfc 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 skeptical propensity is an universal foe ; Sneering Pyrrho never found, nor cared to find, a friend : How could he trust another ? and himself, whom would he not deceive '' His proper gains were all his aim, and interests clash with kindness. So, the Bedouin goeth armed, an enemy to all, The 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. Faith may rise into miracles of might, as some few \v\^e have shown : Faith may sink into credulities of weakness, as the mass of fools have witnessed. OF FAITH. 823 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 Mrages 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 addeth virtue to indifferents ; Yea, 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 for his faith : He trusted in his intercourse with e\il, he sacrificed heartily to fiends. He withered up with curses to the limit of his v/ill, 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 knowledge it his own, So will he cavil at a truth ; how should it be true, and he not 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 tlie foul hard heart, 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, Tliat many things may truly be, which man hath not conceived : Tlie characters revealed of God are a strong mind's sole assurance That any strangeness may not stand a sober theme for faith. Ignorance being hght 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 doubt. And aching soon with ceaseless doubt, it finisheth the strife by misbe lieving. Faith, by its very nature, shaL embrace both credence and obedience • Yea, tae word for both is one, and cannot be divided. ('■) 10* 226 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. For, work void of faith, wherein can it be counted for a duty ? And faith not seen in work, — whereby can the doctrine be discovered ? Faith in reHgion is an instrument ; a handle, and the hand to turn it ; Less a condition tlian a mean, and more an operation than a virtue. A moral sickness, Uke to sin, must have a moral cure ; And fiaith alone can heal tiie 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 Phit'D^ii 1 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 howling. Her heart was torn with sickening dread, and bled to see her boy. And on one sunny morn, when 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 his agony Oh then, what agony was like to hers, — for she believed the tale ? She was bowed and broken down with sorrow, and uncomforted in prayer ; Many nights 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 ! — O did she stop to question ? No, rushing in the force of faith, she met him at tlie door ! OF HONESTY. All is vanity wniri is not honesty ; — tlius is it graven on the tomo ;— And there is no wisdom but in piety ; — so the dead man preacheth : OF HONESTY. 227 For, in a simple \dllage 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 sepulclire 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 both worlds, Well wed, and ill to be divided, a pair that God hath joined together, touch not now the vulgar thought, as of tricks and cheateries in trade ; speak of honest purpose, character, speech and action : or an honest man hath special need of charity, and prudence, Of a deep and humbling self-acquaintance, and of blessed commerce with his God, So that the keennesses of truth may be freed from asperities of censure. And the just but vacillating mind be not made the pendulum of arguments •• For 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 hghts of truth ; He neard a cause, which he had not skill to solve, — and so received it gladly. And that cause brought its consequence of 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 therewith : 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 ; Tlie 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, Wliom 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 brothez ; These three, with heart and hand, dwell together in unity. 9Sy. PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. The blunt yeomar/, stout and true, will spoak unto princes unabashed . His mind is loyal, just and free, a crystal in its plain integrity ; Wha^ should* make such an one ashamed ? where courtiers kneel, he gtandeth ; — I will indeed bow before the king, but knees were knit for God. And many such there be, of a high and noble conscience, Honourable, generous, and kind, though blessed with little light : 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 stalwart race around him, Rooted in the soil like oaks, and hardy as the pine upon the mountains ! Yet, there be others, that will truckle to a lie, selling honesty for interest And do they gain ? — they gain but loss ; a little cash, 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 somewhat 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 secrecies 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 ; Sliall he feel, and hide his feelings ? that were tlie meamiess of a hypo crite. — Still, O man, such hypocrisy is better than this bold honesty to sin :^ Kill the feeling, or conreal it : let shame at least do the work of charityc charity, thou livest not in warning, mcddlinn^ 01110114^ men, OF HONESTY. ^3» Rebuking eveiy foolish word, and censuring small sins ; This is not thy secret, — rather wilt thou hide their multitude, And silence the condemning tongue, and wearisome exliortation, But for thee, thy strength and zeal shine in encouragement to good, Lifting up the lantern of ensample, that wanderers may find the way i That lantern is not lit to gaze on all the liatefulness of evil, But set on hig-h for life and liffht, the loveliness of o-ood. The hard censorious mind sitteth as a keen anatomist. Tracking up the libres in corruption, and prying on a fearful corpse : But tlie charitable soul is a young lover, enamoured httle wisely. That saw no fault in her he loved, and sought to see one less ; So, in his kind and genial hght, she grew more worthy of his love ; Won 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, and its effort to do good, is only feigned self-praise . Often will the meannesses of hfe, hidden away in corners, Prove wisdom ; and the generous is glad to leave them unregarded in tlie 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 lit is often found combating with honesty : In the cause of good, be wise ; and in a case indifferent, keep silence. liCt honesty's unblusliing 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 unwelcome, Or the mouthing censor of others and himself, soon shall sink lo scorn, l^t honesty be added unto innocence of hfe : then a man may only be ita martyr , 230 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. But if openness of speech be found with secrecy 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, \vill make a stalking-horse of honesty ; And hide his poaching Hmbs 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 obstmate, and showeth it for firmness ; h^ is rude, displaying it ^or truth : And glorieth in doggedness of temper, as if it were uncompromising justice. Be aware of such a man ; his brawling 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 overacted 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 conquer'd by his character for courage ; Sheep's clothing helped the wolf, till he slew by his character for kind ness. For honesty hath many gains, and well the wise have known This ^vill prosper to the end, and fill their house with gold. The phosphorus of cheatery will fade, and all its profit perish, While honesty, with glowing light, endureth as the moon. Yea, it would be wise in a world of thieves, where cheating were « virtue, To dare the vice of honesty, if any would be rich. For tliat wliich by the laws of God is heightened into duty, ^ver, in the practice of a man, will be seen both policy and privilege- OF SOCIETY. 'Zil Thank God, ye toilers for y ir bread, in that, daily labouring, He hath suffered the bubbles of self-interest to float upon the stream « f duty : For lionesty, of every kind, approved by God and man, Of wealth and better weal is found the richest cornucopia. Tempered by humbleness and charity, honesty of speech hath honour ; And mingled well with prudence, honesty of purpose hath its praise : Trust paveth homage unto truth, rewarding honesty of action : And all men love to lean on him, who never failed nor fainted. "f reedom 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 intregrity, 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 dissolution, Stillj 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 moraUst condemn, there be large extenuations of his verdict. Let the misanthrope shun men and abjure, the most are rather loveable than hateful. How many pleasant faces bhed their light on every side ! How many angels unawares have crossed thy casual way ! How often, in thy journejings, 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 converse, 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 the spot unsunned by human kindness : Some more and some less, — but, truly, all can claim a little ; And a man may travel through the world, and s:w it thick with friend- ;i' tif T'tv^ipai'ig, vat Trcpipfjrj^ai Tovi ^inofidKOVi, yvjjLi'd r£ ra oTtpva -noihTai;, he influenced the judges of the Areopagus to acquit her. " Ionian Myrrha " is a character finely drawn by Byron in his tragedy of Sanlauapalus. (') ^^Sonie Nirevs ounted among the jierarchs of heathen niytholog>' ; but, as he made game of «very one, he nevei found a friend : and when at length in a gush of hypercricicism, tie presumed 24;^ PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. to censure the peerless Mother of Beauty for awkwardness in walking, the en- raged celestials flung him from their sphere, and sent the fallen spirit down to men. (") 1 Ki7igs vii. 21. Page 184. " He set the pillars in the porch of the temple ; and he set up the right pillar, and called the name thereof Jachin [He shall establish] : and he set up the left pillar ; and called the name thereof Boaz [in it is strength] : and upiwi the top of the pillars was lily-work." (") Page 185. An application of the story of Curtius, (as given by Livy, lib. vii. 6,) who leaped into a gulf, in the forum, because the Auruspices had declared that it should never close until the most precious thing in Rome, " the strength of the city," had been flung into it. We are told that " equo, qu&.m poterat rnaxim^ ornato, insidentem, armatum se in specum immisisse." ('5) Page 186. To drink with the throat of Crassus, may well be thought to have passed mto a proverb for inordinate lust of wealth : for Orodes the Parthian, having overthrown him in battle, cut off" his head, and then, to satirize the insatiable nature of his avarice, poured melted gold down his throat. The evil dreams of Midas are as famous as his other well-earned punishments ; and we are told that he died, in consequence of taking too violent a remedy for delivering him- self from those nightly torments. ('•) Page 194. Mr. Willis, in "Pencillings by the Way," vol. i. p. 115, gives a graphic account of the public burial-ground of Naples. * * * « There are three hundred and sixty-five pits in this place, one of which is opened every day for the dead of the city. They are thrown in without shroud or coffm, and the pit sealed up at night for a year." * * " And thus are flung into this noi- some pit, like beasts, the gieater part of the population of this vast city, — the young and old, the vicious and the virtuous together, without the decency even of a rag to keep up the distinctions of life ! Can human beings thus be thrown away ? men like ourselves, women, children, like our sisters and bro- thers ? I never was so humiliated in my Ufe as by this horrid spectacle. I did not think a man — a felon even, or a leper, — what you 'ahII, that is guilty or debased, — I did not think any thing that had been human could be so recklessly abandoned. Pah ! It makes one sick at heart ! God grant I may never die at Naples !" Truly this would seem to spoil the proverb, Vedi Napoli, poi mori. NOTES. 249 C^) Page 195. Sophocles lived to be nearly a hundred years old : and to typify the perpetua fame of their " sweet Attic bee," the Athenians used to decorate liis tomb witi festoons of (lowering ivy. ("») Page 196. Mr. Catlin, in his interesting work on the North American tribes, vol. ii. f 10, alludes to " the usual mode of the Omahas, of depositing their dead in tt crotches, and on the branches of trees, enveloped in skins," &c. (*'^ ^^ Hemmed in by hostile foes, the trijler is busied on an epigram. Page 212. Even in matters temporal, a literal instance of this occurs in the historj «1 Frederick the Great of Prussia, who, during the mortal struggles of thii s»^fe years* war, frequently occupied the eve before a battle in the studious c<*mpo sition of profane jests, and bad poetry, C°) ''Nine Homers,'' <^c. Page 218. It is true that seven of these have so perished from memory, that we kno\^ nothing of their works ; we only know they lived : an eighth, however, he of Hierapolis and one of the poetic Pleiades of the age of Philadelphus, is reported to have written no less than five-and-forty plays. MusaBus, a Uttle lower down, is Virgil's tall prophet in the Elysian fields, mantioned iEn. vi. 667. ** MusaBxmi ante omnes ; medium nam plurima turba Hunc habet, atque humeris extantem suspicit altis." C" ) " Sons of Mattaihias;' <^c. Page 221 . John, Simon, Judas, Eleazar, and Jonathan, who liberated Israel fro»u the domination of the Greeks, about B. c. 160 ; and who were known by the gene- ral name of the Maccabees, from the initial Hebrew letters of the fii-« foui words from Ex. xv. 11, being inscribed on ^heir standard. («2) ^^Tlie loordfor both i^ one,'' <^c. Page 225. niarii, a derivative from neidiijai, will almost as readily bear the sense of obedience, as of persuasion, and of credence. I know not whether a similar latent sympathy may be thought to exist between our owti old English word •' faith," and the Norman " fait," factum, a deed: at any rate, the coincidence is worth a passing notice. ir 250 PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY. (") ''Ovid had been wise for winking." Page 229. The poet Ovid was exiled for life to the shores of the Black Sea for having Been, and indiscreetly divulged, some intrigue in the family of Augiistus. He complains frequently o this hard lot ; for example, " Inscia quod crimen viderunt lumina plector, Peccatumque oculos est habuisse meum." But he might with greater justice have accused his tongue than his eyes. («*) Page 238. Madame de Stafil somewherw uses these words : •• To enjoy ourselves, we must seek, solitude It was in the Bastile that I first became acquainted with myself." Scipio is reported to have originated the popular saymgs, " I am never less idle than when I have most leisure," and " I am never lees alone than when alone." The Emperor C^srijs V., with the example ol l/!viC*<-«an before him, re- signed his crown, aud retired fi-om the world to the monastery of St. Just, at Plazencia, in Spain : where, as Robertson says, " he oarjed in solitude and silence his grandeur acH hi^ arrbit'n *' (*•) Page 241. It may be necessary to acquaint the reader that this section takes a retro Bpective glance at my former series of subjects treated in the proverbial style « brief recapitulation of the present series follows, finishing the work. thousa:nd loes. I A THOUSAND LINES. I PROLOGUE. My heart presents her gift ; in turn, of thee I ask a little time, an idle hour, Kindly to spend with these my thoughts and me, Wooing the fragrance of the Muses' bower ; Not without name or note, yet nameless now As one devoid of fame and skill and power, Bearing no charge upon mine argent shield, A candidate unknown with vizored brow, Full of young hopes I dare the tented field ! — Not so : — this is no time for measuring swords ; Thou art no craven though thy spirit yield. For yonder are fair looks and friendly words : Choose a more peaceful image : — here, reveai d Shines a smafl sample of my gcuden hoards. 254 A THOUSAND LINES. SLOTH. " A LITTLE more sleep, a little more slumber, A little more folding the hands to sleep," For quick-footed dreams, without order or number, Over my mind are beginning to creep, — Rare is the happiness thus to be raptured By your wild whispers, my Fanciful train, And, like a linnet, be carelessly captured In the soft nets of my beautiful brain ! Touch not these curtains ! — your hand will be tearing Delicate tissues of thoughts and of things ; — Call me not ! — your cruel voice will be scaring Flocks of young visions on gossamer wings : Ijeave me, O leave me, — for in your rude presence Nothing of all my bright world can remain, — Thou art a blight to this garden of pleasance, Thou art a blot on my beautiful brain ! Cease your dull lecture on cares and employment, Let me forget awhile trouble and strife. Leave me to peace, — let me husband enjoyment,— This is the heart and the marrow of life ! For to my feeling the choicest of pleasures Is to lie thus, without peril or pain, Lazily listening the musical measures Of the sweet voice in my beautiful brain ! Hush, — for the halo of calmness is spreading Over my spirit, as mild as a dove ; Hush, — for the angel of comfort is shedding Over my body his vial of love ; Hush, — for new slumbers are over me stealing, Thus would I court them again and again, Hush, — for my heart is intoxicate, — reeling In tlie swift waltz of my beautiful brain ! I ACTIVITY. 25o ACTIVITY. Open the casenient, and up \vith the Sun ! His gallant joiimey is just begun ; Over the hills his chariot is roll'd, Banner'd with glorj'^, and bumish'd with gold, — Over the hills he comes sublime, Bridegroom of Earth, and brother of Time ! Day hath broken, joyous and fair ; Fragrant and fresh is the morning air, — Beauteous and bright those orient hues, Balmy and sweet these early dews ; O, tnere is health, and wealth, and bliss In dawning Nature's motherly Idss ! Lo, the wondering world awakes. With its rosy-tipp'd mountains and gleaming lakes. With its fields and cities, deserts and trees, Its calm old cliffs, and its sounding seas. In all their gratitude blessing HIM Who dwelleth between the Cherubim ! Break away boldly from Sleep's leaden chain , Seek not to forge that fetter again ; Ratlier, wdth \igour and resolute nerve. Up, up, to bless man, and thy INIaster to serve, Thanlvful and hopeful, and happy to raise The offering of prayer, and the incense of praise ! Gird thee, and do thy watching well, Duty's Christian sentinel ! Sloth and Slumber never had part In the warrior's wall, or the patriot's heart ; Soldier of God on an enemy's shore ! Slumber and sloth thrall thee no more. 856 A THOUSAND LINES. ADVENTURE. How gladly would I wander through some strange and savage land, The lasso at my saddle bow, the rifle in my hand, A leash of gallant mastiffs bounding by my side. And for a friend to love, the noble horse on which I ride ! \lone, aJone — vet not alone, for God is with me there, The tender hand of Providence shall guide me every whei»» While happy thoughts and holy hopes, as spirits calm and uiild, Shall fan with their sweet wings the hermit-hunter of the wild I Without a guide, — yet guided well, — young, buoyant, fresh and free Without a road, — yet all the land a highway unto me, — Without a care, vvathout a fear, without a grief or pain, Exultingly I thread the woods, or gallop o'er the plain ! Or, brushing tnrougu tne copse, from his leafy home I stair The stately elk, or tusky boar, the bison, or the hart, And then, — with eager spur, to scour away, away. Nor stop, — undl my dogs have brought the glorious brute to l>ay. Or, if the gang of hungry wolves come yelUng on my track, I make my ready rifle speak, and scare the cowards back ; Or, if the lurking leopard's eyes among the branches shine, A touch upon the trigger — and his spotted skin is mine ? And then the huiiter's savoury fare at tranquil evenc^f^ The dappled deei* shot to-day upon the green hillside ; My feasted hounds are slumbering round beside the water-course, And pleixi-y of sweet prairie-grass for thee, my noble horse. Hist ! hist ! I heard some prowler snarling in the wood ; I seized my knife and trusty gun, and face to face we stood ! Tlie Grizzly Bear came rushing on, — and, as he rush'd, he fell I Hie at him, dogs ! my rifle has done its duty well ! THE SONG OF SIXTEEN. 257 Hie at him, dogs ! one bullet caiKiot kill a foe so grim ; The God of battles nerve a man to grapple now with him, — A.nd straight between his hugging arms I plunge my whetted knife, Ha — ha ! it splits his iron heart, and drinks the ruddy life ! Frantic he struggles — welling blood — the strife is almost o'er, — The shaggy monster, feebly panting, wallows in his gore, — Here, lap it hot, my gallant hounds, — the blood of foes is sweet ; Here, gild withal your dewlapp'd throats, and wash your brawny feet ! So shall we beard those tyrants in their dens another day. Nor tamely wait, with slavish fear, their coming in the way ; And ])leasant thoughts of peace and home shall fill our dreams to-nigh'' For lo, the God of battles has help'd us m the fight ! THE SONG OF SIXTEEN, Who shall guess what I may be ? Who can tell my fortune to me ? For, bravest and brightest that ever was sung May be — ^and shall be— tlie lot of the young ! Hope, with her prizes and victories won, Shines in the blaze of my morning sun, Conquering Hone, with golden ray, Blessing my landscape far away ; All my meadows and hills are green, And rippling waters glance between,— All my skies are rosy bright. Laughing in triumph at yester-night : My heart, my heart within me swells. Panting, and stirring its hundred wells ; — For youth is a noble seed, that springs Into the flower of heroes and kings ! 258 A THOUSAND LINES. Rich in the present, though poor in the past, I yearn for the future, vague and vast : And lo ! what treasure of glorious things Giant Futurity sheds from his wings : Pleasures are there, like dropping balms, And glory and honour v^th chaplets and palms, And mind well at ease, and gladness, and health A river of peace, and a mine of wealth ! Away with your counsels, and hinder me not, — On, on let me press to my brilliant lot ; Young and strong, and sanguine and free, How knowest tliou what I may be ? FORTY. Ah, poor youth ! in pitiful truth. Thy pride must feel a fall, poor youth '. What thou shalt be, well have I seen, — Thou shalt be only what others have been. Haply, within a few swift years, A mind bowed down with troubles and fears, The commonest druge of men and things, Instead of your — conquering heroes and ki jgs. Haply, to follies an early wreck, — For the cloud of presumption is now like a speck, And with a whelming, sudden sweep, The storm of temptation roars over the deep ; Lower the sails of pride, rash youth. Stand to the lowly tiller of truth ; Quick ! or your limber bark shall be The sport of the winds on a stormy sea. THE SONG OF SEVENTY. 259 Care and peril in lieu of joy, — Guilt and dread may be thine, proud boy : Lo, thy mantling chalice of life Is foaming with sorrow, and sickness, and strife ; Cheated by pleasure, and sated with pain, — Watching for honour, and watching in vain, — Aching in heart, and ailing in head, Wearily earning daily bread. — It is well. I discern a tear on thy cheek : It is well, — thou art humbled, and silent, and meek : Now, — courage again ! and, with peril to cope, Gird thee with vigour, and helm tliee with hope ! For life, good youth, hath never an ill Which hope cannot scatter, and faith cannot kill ; And Ftubbom realities never shall bind The free-spreading wings of a cheerful mind. THE SONG OF SEVENTY. I AM not old, — I cannot be old. Though threescore years and ten Have wasted away, Hke a tale that is told, The lives of other men * I am not old ; though friends and foes AUke have gone to their graves, And left me alone to my joys or my woes, As a rock m the midst of the waves. I am not old, — T cannot be old, Though tottering, wrinkled and gray : Though my eyes are dim, and my marrow is cold, Call me not old to-day. 260 A THOUSAND LINES. For early memories round me throng, Old times, and manners, and men, As I look behind on my journey so long, Of threescore miles and ten ; 1 look behind, and am once more young, Buoyant, and brave, and bold, And my heart can sing, as of yore it sung, Before they called me old. I do not see her, — ^the old wife there — Shrivelled, and haggard, and gray, But I look on her blooming, and soft, and fair As she was on her wedding day ! I do not see you, daughters and sons, In the Ukeness of women and men. But I kiss you now as I kissed you once. My fond Httle children tlien : And as my own grandson rides on my knee, Or plays with his hoop or kite, I can well recollect I was merry as he — The bright-eyed little wight ! 'Tis not long since, — it cannot be long, — My years so soon were spent. Since I was a boy, both straight and strong. Yet now am I feeble and bent. A dream, a dream, — ^it is all a dream ! A strange, sad dream, good sooth ; For old as I am, and old as I seem. My heart is full of youth : Eye hath not seen, tongue hath not told, And ear hath not heard it sung, How buoyant and bold, though it seem to grow old^ Is the heart, for ever young ; NATURE'S NOBLEMAN. 2bl For ever young, — ^though life's old age ^ Hath every nerve unstrung : The heart, the heart is a heritage That keeps the old man young ! -v/\/\.rw-» yv/N.'x.rv NATURE'S NOBLEMAN. Away with false fashion, so calm and so chill, Where pleasure itself cannot please ; Away with cold breeding, that faithlessly still Affects to be quite at its ease ; For the deepest in feeling is highest in rank, The freest is first in the band. And nature's own Nobleman, friendly and frank Is a man with his heart in his hand ! Fearless in honesty, gentle yet just. He warmly can love, — and can hate, Nor will he bow down with his face in the dust To Fashion's intolerant state : For best in good breeding, and highest in rank. Though lowly or poor in the land. Is nature's own Nobleman, friendly and frank. The man with his heart in liis hand ! His fasliion is passion, sincere and intense. His impulses, simple and true, Yet tempered by judgment, and taught by good sense, And cordial witli me, and with you : For the finest in manners, as highest in rank, It is you, man ! or you, man ! who stand Nature's own Nobleman, friendly and frank, — A man with his heart in his hand ! 262 A THOUSAND LINES. NEVER GIVE UP. Never give up ! it is \\iser and better Always to hope, than once to despair ; Fling off the load of Doubt's cankering fetter, And break the dark spell of tyrannical care : Never give up ! or the burthen may sink you, — Providence kindly has mingled the cup, And in all trials or troubles, bethink you, The watchword of life must be. Never give up f Never give up ! there are chances and changes Helping the hopeful, a hundred to one. And through the chaos High Wisdom arranges Ever success, — if you'll only hope on : Never give up ! for the wisest is boldest. Knowing that Providence mingles the cup, And of all maxims the best, as the oldest. Is the true watchword of Never give up ! Never give up ! — ^though the grape-shot may rattle, Or the full thunder-cloud over you burst, Stand like a rock, — and the storm or the battle Little shall harm you, though doing their worst : Never give up ! — if adversity presses, Providence wisely has mingled the cup. And the best counsel, in all your distresses, Is the stout watchword of Never give up ! -^\/\/\>"^/N^ ONg^X/^^V^- THE SUN. Blame not, ye million worshippers of gold — Modern idolaters — their works and ways, When Asia's children, in the times of old, Knelt to the sun, outpouring prayer and praise THE STARS. 2b3 As to God's central throne ; for when the blaze Of that grand eye is on me, and I stand Watching its majesty with painful gaze, I too could kneel among that Persian band, Had not the Architect of yon bright sphere Taught me Himself; bidding me look above, Beneatli. around, and stiU to find Him— here ! King of the Iieait, dweUing in no fixt globe, But gladly throned within the spirit of love, Wearing that light ethereal as a robe. THE MOON. I KNOW thee not, O moon, — thou cavemed realm. Sad satellite, a giant ash of death, Where cold, alternate, and the sulphurous breath Of ravaging volcanoes, overwhelm All chance of life like ours, — art thou not Some fallow world, after a reaping time Of creatures' judgment, resting in thy lot ? Or haplier must I take thee for the blot On God's fair firmament, the home of crime, The prison-house of sin, where damned souls Feed upon punishment ?— O thought sublime. That, amid Night's black deeds, when evil prowls Through the broad world, then, watching sinners well, Glares over all the wakeful eye of— Hell ! THE STARS. I. Far-flaming stars, ye sentinels of Space, Patient and silent ministers around 2W A THOUSAND LINES. Your Queen, the moon, whose melancholy face Seems ever pale with pity and grief profound For sinful Earth, — I, a poor groveller here, A captive eagle chain'd to this dull ground. Look up and love your light in hope and fear : Hope, that among your myriad host is one, A kingdom for my spirit, a bright place Where I shall reign when this short race is run, An heir of joy, and glory's mighty son ! Yet, while I hope, the fear will freeze my brain — What if indeed for worthless me remain No waiting sceptre, no predestined tlirone ? THE STARS. II. Hence, doubts of darkness ! I am not mine own, But ransomed by the King of that bright host : La Him my just humility shall boast, And claim through Him that sceptre and that throne. Yes, world of light, — when by the booming sea At eve I loiter on this shingly coast, Li seeming idleness, — I gaze on thee, (I know not which — but one,) fated to be My glorious heritage, my heavenly home, A temple and a paradise for me, Whence my celestial form at will may roam To other worlds, unthought and unexplor'd, Whose atmosphere is bliss and liberty. The palaces and gardens of the Lord ! FORGIVE AND FORGET. When streams of unkindness, as bitter as gall. Bubble up from the heart to the tongue, FORGIVE AND FORGET. 26c And Meekness is writhing in tomient and thraH^ By the hands of Ingratitude wrung, — In the heat of injustice, unwept and unfair, While tlie anguish is festering yet, None, none but an angel, or God, can declare " I now can forgive and forget." But, if the bad spirit is chased from the heart, And the Ups are in penitence steep'd, With the wrong so repented the wTatli will depart» Though scom on injustice were heaped ; For the best compensation is paid for all ill. When the cheek with contrition is wet, And every one feels it is possible still, At once to forgive and forget. To forget ? It is hard for a man with a rnind. However his heart may forgive, To blot out all perils and dangers behind, And but for the future to hve : Then how shall it be ? for at every turn Recollection the spirit will fret. And the ashes of injury smoulder and bum, Though we strive to forgive and forget. Oh, hearken ! my tongue shall the riddle unseal, And mind shall be partner with heart, While thee to thyself I bid conscience reveal. And show thee how evil thou art : Remember thy follies, thy sins, and — thy crimes, How vast is that infinite debt ! Yet Mercy hath seven by seventy times Been swift to forgive and forget ! Brood not on insults or injuries old, For thou art injurious too, — Count not their sum till the total is told, For thou art unkind and untrue : 12 266 A THOUSAND LINES. And if all thy harms are forgotten, forgiven. Now mercy with justice is met, Oh, who would not gladly take lessons of heaven, Nor learn to forgive and forget ? Yes, yes ; let a man, when his enemy weeps. Be quick to receive him, a friend ; For tlius on his head in kuidness he heaps Hot coals, — to refine and amend ; And hearts that are Christian more eagerly yearn. As a nurse on her innocent pet. Over lips that, once bitter, to penitence turn, And whisper. Forgive and forget. «MY MIND TO ME A KINGDOM IS Eureka ! this is truth sublime, Defying change, outwreptling time — Eureka ! well that truth is told, Wisely spake tlie bard of old — Eureka ! there is peace and praise In this short and simple phrase, A sea of comforts, wide and deep, Wherein my conscious soul to steep, A hoard of happy-making wealth To doat on, miserly, by stealth, Through Time my reason's ripest fruit, For all eternity its root, Earth's harvest, and the seed of heaven, To me, to me, by mercy given ! Yes, eureka, — I have found it. And before the world will sound it ; This remains, and still shall stay When life's gauds have passed away, MY MIND'S KINGDOM. 2G7 This, of old my treasure-truth, The bosom joy tlmt warm'd my youth, My happiness in manhood's prime, My triumph down the stream of time, Till death shall lull this heart in age, And deathless glory crown my page. My grace-bom truth and treasure this,— " My mind to me a kingdom is." Noble solace, true and strong, Great reward for human wrong, With an inward blessing still To compensate all earthly ill, To recompense for adverse fates, Woes, or wants, or scorns, or hates, To cherish, after man's neglect, Wlien foes deride, and friends suspect. To soothe and bless the spirit bow'd Down by the selfish and the proud. To lift the soul above this scene Of petty troubles trito and mean, there is mortal might in tliis, — " My mind to me a kingdom is." Carve it deep, with letters bold, In the imperishable gold. Grave it on some primal rock That hath stood the earthquake shock, x Make that word a citizen DweUing in the hearts of men, Sound it in the ears of age. Stamp it on the printed page. Gladden sympathizing youth With the soft music of this truth. This echoed note of heavenly bliss, " My mind to me a kingdom is." Ay, chide or scorn, — I will be proud, — 1 am not of a slavish crowd ; 268 A THOUSAND LINES. No serf is here to outward things,— lie rules with chiefs ! he reigns with kings ! Tell out thy secret joys, my mind, Free and fearless as the wind, , And pour the triumphs of the soul In words that like a river roll, Foaming on with vital force From their ever-gushing source. Fountains of truth, that overwhelm With swollen streams this royal realm, And in Nilotic richness steep My heart's Thebaf d, rank and deep ! Or bolder, as my thoughts inspire. Change that water into fire ! From the vext bowels of my soul Lava currents roar and roll, Bursting out in torrent wide Through my crater's ragged side. Rushing on from field to field. Till all with boiling stone is seal'd, And my hot thoughts, in language pent, Stand their own granite monument ! Yes ! ail the elements are mine, To crush, create, dissolve, combine,— All mine, — the confidence is just. On God I ground my high-born trust To stand, when pole is rent from pole, Calm in my majesty of soul. Watching the throes of this wreck'd world, When from their thrones the Alps are hurl'd, When fire consumes earth, sea, and air, To stand, unJiarm'd, undaunted there, And grateful still to boast in tliis, " JMy mind to me a kingdom is." Brother poet, dead so long, Heed these echoes to thy song. And love me now, where'er thou art. Yearning with magnetic heart MY MIND'S KINGDOM. 2(5^ From thy tlirone in some bright sphere On this poor brotlier gTovelluig here ; For I, too, I can stoutly sing I am ever}' inch a king ! A king of Thought, a Potentate Of glorious spiritual state, A king of Thought, a king of JMind, Realms unmapp'd and undefined, — A king ! beneath no man's control, Invested with a royal soul, Crown'd by God's imperial hand Before liim as a king to stand, And by His wisdom train'd and taught To rule my realm as Kmg of Thought. O thoughts, — how ill my fellow-men, thoughts, — how scanty my poor pen Can guess or tell the myriad host Wherewith you crowd my kingdom's coast ? For I am hemm'd and throng'd about With your triumphant rabble-rout. Hurried along by that mad flood. The joy-excited multitud A conqueror, borne upon the foam, Of his great people's gladness home, A monarch in his grandest state. On whom a thousand thousand wait ! Lo ! they come — my Tribes of Thought, Fierce and flush'd and fever-fraught ! From tlie horizon all around 1 hear with pride their coming sound ; See ! their banners circling near, — Glittering groves of shield and spear. Flying clouds of troopers gay, Serried lines in dark array, Veterans calm with temper'd sword, And a dishevelled frantic horde, — On they come with furious force, Tramping foot and thundering horsey 27C A THOUSAND LINES. On they come, converging loud, With clanging anns, a glorious crowd Shouting impatient, fierce and .free, For me, tlieir Monarch, yea, for me ! Then, in my majesty and power, I quell tlie madness of tlie hour, Bid that tumultuous turmoil cease, And frown my multitudes to peace. Eacli to liis peril and his post ! All hush'd throughout my mighty host : Courage clear, and duty stern, — Heads that freeze and hearts that bum ; Marshalled straight in order due, Legions ! pass in swift review, Bending to my blazoned will, Loyal to tliat standard still, And haihng me with homage then Kmg of Thoughts — and thus, of Men ! What ? am I powerless to control Nations, by my single soul ? WTiat ? have I not made thousands thrill By the mere impulse of my will, When the strong Thought goes forth, and binds Captive a wandering herd of minds ? And is not this to reign alone More than the ermine and the tin-one. The jewelled state, the gilded rooms, The mindless man in borrowed plumes ? Yes, — if the inmate soul outweighs Its dull clay house in power and praise : Yes, — if Eternity be true, And Time both false and fleeting too. Then, humbler kings, my boast be this, " My mind to me a kingdom is.' And what, though weak and slow o^ speech, III to comfort, dull to teach '» MY MIND'S KINGDOM. Wliat, though hiding from the ken Ol my small piying feUow-men,— Still within my musing mind, Wisdom's secret stores I find, And, little noticed, sweetly feed On hidden manna, meat indeed, Blessed thoughts I never told Unconsidered, uncontroll'd, Rushing by as tliick and fast As autumn leaves upon the blast : Or better, Uke the gracious rain Dropping on some thirsty plain. And is not this to be a king, To carry in my heart a spring Of ceaseless pleasures, deep and pure, Wealth cannot buy, nor power procure ? Yea, — by the poet's artless art. And the sweet searchings of his heart, By his unknown, unheeded bliss, " My mind to me a kingdom is." Place me on some desert shore Foot of man ne'er wandered o'er ; Lock me in a lonely cell Beneath some prison citadel ; Still, here or there, within I find My quiet kingdom of the Mind ; Nay, — mid the tempest fierce and dark. Float me on peril's frailest bark. My quenchless soul could sit and think And smile at danger's dizziest brink : And wherefore ? — God, my God, is still King of kings in good and ill ; And where He dwelleth — every where — Safety supreme and peace are there ; And where he reigneth — all around — Wisdom, and love, and power are found ; And reconciled to Him and bliss, " My mind to me a kingdom is." ^ i ••^72 A THOUSAND LINES. Thus for my days ; each waldug hour Grand with majesty and power, Every mhiute rich in treasure, Gems of peace, and pearls of pleasure. And for my nights — those wondrous nights ? How manifold my Mind's delights. When the young truant, gladly caught In its own labyrinths of thought, Finds there is another realm to range, The dynasties of Chance and Change. O dreams, — what know I not of dreams ? Their name, their very essence, seems A tender light, not dark nor clear, A sad sweet mystery wild and dear, A dull soft feeling unexplained, A he half true, a truth half feigned : O dreams, — what know I not of dreams ? When Reason, with inebriate gleams, Looses from his wise control The prancing Fancies of the soul. And sober Judgment, slumbering still, Sets free Caprice to guide the Will. Within one night have 1 not spent Years of adventurous banishment. Strangely groping like the blind In the dark caverns of my mind ? Have I not dwelt, from eve till morn, Lifetimes in length for praise or scorn. With fancied joys, ideal woes, And all sensation's warmest glows, Wondrously thus expanding Life Through seeming scenes of peace or strife. Until I verily reign sublime, A great creative king of Time ? And there are people, things, and places, Usual themes, familiar faces, A second life, that looks as real As this dull world's own unideal, MY MIND'S KINGDOM. 272 Another life of dreams by night, That, still forgotten wanes in light. Yet seems itself to wake and sleep. And in that sleep dreams doubly deep. While those same dreams may dream anon. Tangled mazes wandering on ! Yes, I have often, weak and worn. Feebly waked at earliest mom. As a shipwreck'd sailor, tost By the wild waves on some rough coast, Of perils past remembering nought But some dim cataracts of thought, And only roused betunes to know That yesterday seems years ago ! And I can apprehend full well What old Pythagoras could tell Of other scenes, and other chmes, And other Selfs in other times ; For, oft my consciousness has reel'd With scores of " Richards in the field," As, multifonu, with no surprise, I see myself in other guise. And wonderless walk side by side Witli mine own soul, self-multiplied! If it be royal then to reign Over an infinite domain. If it be more than monarch can To lengthen out the life of man, V^ea, if a godhke thing it be To revel in ubiquity, Is there but empty boast in this, " My mind to me a kingdom is ?" — Peace, rash fool ; be proud no more, Count thy faults and follies o'er, Turn aside, and note within Thy secret charnel-house of Sin, Thy bitter heart, thy covetous mind. Evil thoughts, and words unkind : 12* *i\ A THOUSAND LINES. Can so foul and moan a thing Reign a spiritual King ? Art thou not — yea thou, myself, In hope a slave to pride and pelf? Art tliou not, — yea, thou, my mind, Weak and naked, poor and blind ? Yea, be humble ; yea, be still ; Meekly bow that rebel Will ; Seek not selfishly for praise ; Go more softly all tliy days ; For to thee belongs no power, Wretched insect of an hour, — And if God in bounteous dole. Hath grafted life upon thy soul. Know thou, there is out of Him Nor light in mind, nor might in limb ; And, but for One, who from the grave Of sin and death stood forth to save, Thy mind, that royal mind of thine, So great, ambitious and divine. Would but a root of anguish be, A madness and a misery, A bitter fear, a hideous care All too terrible to bear. Kingly, — but king of pains and woes, The sceptred slave to throbs and th^oe^ Justly then, my God, to thee. My royal soul shall bend the knee. My royal soul. Thy glorious breath, By Thee set free from guilt and death, Before thy Majesty bows down, Offering the homage of her crown. Well pleased to sing in better bliss, " My God to me a kingdom ia." SONNET, ON A BIRTH. '75 TARRING CHURCH. Mother, — beneath fair Tarring's heavenward spire, Where in old years tliy youthful vows were paid, When God had granted thee thy heart's desire, And she went forth a wife, who came a maid, With mindful steps thus wisely have we stray'd, Full of deep thoughts : for where that sacred fire Of Love was kindled, in the self-same spot, Thou, with the dear companion of thy lot, Thy helpmate all those years, mine honourd sire. To-day have found fulfilled before your eyes The promise of old time ; — look round and see Thy children's children ! lo, these babes arise, And call thee blessed : Blessed both be ye ! And in your blessing bless ye these, and me. SONNET; ON A BIRTH. At length, — a dreary length of many years, God's favour hath shone forth ! and blest thee well, O handmaid of the Lord, for all thy tears. For all thy prayers, and hope, and faith — and fears, With that best treasure of consummate joy A childless wife alone can fully tell How sorely long withheld — her first-bom boy : This blessing is from heav'n ; to lieav'n once more, Another Hannah with her Samuel, Render thou back the talent yielding ten, A spirit, trained right early to adore, A heart to yearn upon its fellow-men, A being, meant and made for endless heaven, Tills give to God : this, God to thee hath given. i^76 A THOUSAND LINES. DUTY. Pearls before swine : this is an old complaint ; In very humbleness, and not in pride, The spirit feels it true ; yet makes a feint To rest with man's neglect well satisfied, And have its wealth of words, its stores of thought Despised or unregarded : woe betide The heart that lives on praise ! considering nought Of Duty's royal edicts, that command Thy talents to be lent, thy lamp to shine : Soul, be not faint ; nor, body, stay thy hand ; Heed only this, — not whether those be swine But whether these be pearls, precious and pure ; That so, whatever fate the world make thine, With God for Judge, thy guerdon be secure. COUNSEL. FOR MUSIC. There is a time for praising, And a better time for pray'r, — The heart its anthem raising, Or uttering its care : One minute is for smiling. And another for the tear, — > Hope, by turns, beguiling. Or her haggard brother. Fear. But, if in joy thou praisest The generous Hand that gave, — And if in woe thou raisest The prayer that He may save ; Thy griefs'shall seem all pleasure As the chidings of a Friend, And thy joys ecstatic measure A beginning without end ! BYEGONES. 27' HOME. FOR MUSIC. I NEVER left the place that knew me, And may never know me more, Where the chords of kindness drew me. And have gladdened me of yore, But my secret soul has smarted With a feeling full of gloom For the days that are departed, And the place I call'd my Home. I am not of those who wander Unaffectioned here and there. But my heart must still be fonder Of my sites of joy or care ; And I point sad memory's finger (Though my faithless foot may roam) Where I've most been made to linger In the place I call'd my Home. BYEGONES. FOR MUSIC. ** Let byegones be byegones," — ^they foolishly say And bid me be wise and forget them i But old recollections are active to-day, And I can do nought bat regret them ; Though the present be pleasant, all joyous and gay. And promising well for the morrow, I love to look back on the years past away. Embalming my byegones in sorrow. If the morning of life has a mantle of gray, Its noon will be bUther and brighter. ^78 A THOUSAND LINES. If March has its storm, there is sunshine in May, And lijiht out of darkness is lijrhter : Thus the present is pleasant, a cheerful to-day, With a wiser, a soberer gladness, Because it is tinged with the mellowing ray Of a yesterday's sunset of sadness. -,^\/\y\/yy\j\, <, v"v/>w- RULE, BRITANNIA! ^ *«RRIN(l SONG FOR PATRIOTS, IN THE YEAR 1860. To the inne of " Wha wouldna fight for CharHsl'* "Rise ! ye gallant youth of Britain, Gather to your country's call. On your hearts her name is written, Rise to help her, one and all ! Cast away each feud and faction, Brood not over wrong nor ill, — Rouse your virtues into action. For we love our country still, — Hail, Britannia ! hail, Britannia ! Raise that thrilling shout once more ; Rule, Britannia ! Rule, Britannia ! Conqueror over sea and shore ! France is coming, full of bluster, Hot to wipe away her stain. Therefore, brothers, here we muster Just to give it her again ! And if focmen, blind uith fury, Dare to cross our ocean-gulf, Wait not then for judge nor jury, — Shoot them as you would a wolf I RULE BRITANNIA. 279 For Britannia, just Britannia, Claims our chorus as before ; Rule, Britannia ! Rule, Britannia ! Conqueror over sea and shore. They may writhe, for we have galled them • With our guns in every clime, — They may hate us, for we called them Serfs and subjects in old time ! Boasting Gaul, we calmly scorn you As old iEsop's bull the frogs ; Come and welcome ! for, we warn you, We shall fling you to our dogs ! For Britannia, our Britannia, Thunders \vith a lion's roar ; Rule Britannia ! Rule, Britannia ! Conqueror over sea and shore. See, uprear'd our holy standard ! Crowd around it, gallant hearts ! What ! should Britain's fame be slandered As by fault on our parts ? Let the rabid Frencliman threaten, Let the mad invader come, We will hunt them out of Britain, Or can die for hearth and home ! For Britannia, dear Britannia, Wakes our chorus evermore — Rule, Britannia ! Rule, Britannia ! Conqueror over sea and shore. Rise then, patriots ! name endearing, Flock from Scotland's moors and dales, From the green, glad fields of Erin, From the mountain homes of Wales, — Rise ! for sister England calls you, Rise ! our common weal to serve, Rise ! while now the song enthralls you. Thrilling every vein and nerve, 380 A THOUSAND LINES. Hail, Britannia ! hail, Britannia ! Conquer, as thou didst of yore ! Rule, Britannia ! Rule, Britannia ! Over every sea and shore. THE EMIGRANT SHIP. FOR MUSIC. Far away, far away, The emigrant ship must sail to-day : Cruel ship, — to look so gay Bearing the exiles far away. Sad and sore, sad and sore, Many a fond heart bleeds at the core, Cruel dread, — to meet no more, Bitter sorrow, sad and sore, Mpny years, many years At best will they battle with perils and fears ; Cruel pilot, — for he steers The pxiles away for many years. Tiong ago, long ago ! For the days that are gone their tears shall flow Cruel hour, — to tear thera so F.'^m all they cherished long ago. Fare ye well, fare ye well ! To joy and to hope it sounds as a knet] Cruel tale it were to tell How the emigrant sighs farewell. Far away, far away ! Is there indeed no hope to-day ? Cruel and false it were to say There are no pleasures far away. THE ASSURANCE OF HORACE. 281 Far away, far awa) ! Every night and every day Kind and wise it were to pray, God be with them far away ! I THE ASSURANCE OF HORACE. 1 HAVE achieved a tower of fame More durable than gold, And loftier than the royal frame Of Pyramids of old, — V-Hiich none inclemencies of clime, Nor fiercest winds that blow, Nor endless change, nor lapse of time^ Shall ever overthrow ! I cannot perish utterly : The brighter part of me Must live — and live^and never die, But bafile Death's decree ! For I shall always grow, and spread My new-blown honors still. Long as the priest and vestal tread The Capitolian hill. I shall be sung, where thy rough waves. My native river, foam, — And where old Daunus scantly laves And rules his rustic home ; As cliief and first I shall be sung, Though lowly, great in might To tune my country's heart and tongue, And tune them both aright. Thou then, my soul, assume thy state, And take thine honors due : — 2H'.> A THOUSAND LINES. Be proud, as thy deserts are great, — To thine own praise be true ! Thou too, celestial Muse, come down, And with kind haste prepare The laurel for a Delphic crown , To weave thy poet's hair. THE ASSURANCE OF OVID. Now have ^ aone my work ! — which not Jove's ire Can make rinaone, nor sword, nor time, nor fire. Whene'er that day, whose only powers extend Against this body, my brief hfe shall end, Still in my better portion evermore Above the stars undying shall I soar ! My name shall never die : but through all time, Wherever Rome shall reach a conquered clime, There, in that people's tongue, shall this my page Be read and glorified from age to age ; — Yea, if the bodings of my spirit give True note of inspiration, I shall live I FOST-LETTERS. Lottery tickets every day, — » And ever drawn a blank ! Yet none the less we pant and pray For prizes in that bank : Morn by morn, and week by week. They cheat us, or amuse, Whilst on we fondly hope, and seek Some stirring daily news. POST-LETTERS. 2bo The heedless postman on his path Is scattering joys and woes ; He bears the seeds of life and death, And drops them as he goes ! I never note him trudging near Upon his common track, But all my heart is hope, or fear, With visions bright, or black ! I hope — what hope I not ? — vagae thingp Of wondrous possible good ; I dread — as vague imaginings, A very viper's brood : Fame's sunshine, fortune's golden dew« May now be hovering o'er, — Or the pale shadow of Ul news Be cowering at my door ! Mystery, master-key to life. Thou spring of every hour, 1 love to wrestle in thy strife. And tempt thy perilous power ; I love to know that none can know What tliis day may bring fortn, What bliss for me, for me what woe Is travailing in birth ! See, on my neighbour's threshold stanas Yon careless common man, Bearing, perchance, in those coarse hands, My Being's altered plan ! My germs of pleasure, or of pain, Of trouble, or of peace, May there lie thick as drops of rain Distilled from Gideon's fleece ! Who knovveth ? may not loves be dead, — Or those we loved laid low, — Who knoweth ? may not wealth be fled. And all the world my foe ? 284 A THOUSAND LINEftj. Or who can teU if Fortune's hour (Wliich once on all doth shine) JBe not within tliis morning's dower, A prosperous mom of mine ? Ah, cold Reality ! -in spite Of hopes, ajid endless chance, That bitter postman, ruthless wight, Has cheated poor Romance ; No letters ! O the dreary phrase : Another day forlorn : — And thus I wend upon my ways To watch another mom. Cease, babbler ! — let those doubtings cease What ! should a son of heaven With the pure manna of liis Peace Mix up his faithless leaven ? Not so ! — for in the hands of God, And in none earthly will. Abide alike my staff, and rod. My good, and seeming ill. SOCIETY. Alas, we do but act ; we are not free ; The presence of another is a chain My trammeled spirit strives to break, in vain How strangely different myself from me I Thoughtful in solitude, serenely blest, Crown'd and enthroned in mental majesty, Equal to all things great, and daring all, 1 muse of mysteries, and am at rest ; But, in tlie midst, some dull intruded guest Topples me from my heights, holding in tlirall TO AN INFANT. 285 With his hard eye tlie traitor in my breast, That before humbler intellects is cow'd, Silently shrinking from the common crowd, And only with the highest self-possest. ON AN INFANT.* Look on this babe ; and let thy pride take heed, Thy pride of manhood, intellect, or fame. That thou despise him not : for he indeed, And such as he, in spirit and heart the same Are God's own children in that kingdom brigh Where purity is praise, — and where before The Father's throne, triumphant evermore. The ministering angels, sons of light, Stand unreproved ; because they offer then Mix'd with the Mediator's hallowing pray'i The innocence of babes in Christ like this : L O guardian Spirit, be my child ihy care, Lead him to God, obedience and bliss, To God, O fostering cherub, thine and his ! * William Kni^^hton Tapper, the Author's second soa 2^ft A THOUSAND LIN' EPILOGUE Are there no sympathies, no loves between us ? Is my hope vain ? — I have not vext tliee long, Nor lent thee thoughts from God and good that wean us, Nor given thee words that warp from right to wrong ; And if. at times, my too triumphant song Hath seem'd self-praise, — doth it indeed demean us That when a man feels hotly at his hear The quick spontaneous fire of thoughts ana womn. He will not play the hypocrile's 'L > it, Flinging aside the meed his Mind affora& 'j No ! with all gratitude and humbleness i claim mine own ; nov can alfeC: c scorn A gift, of my Creator's goodness bom Whicti is my grace and glory to possess. HACTENUS: SUNDRY OF MY LYRIOB HITHERTO. HACTENUS. ■^S^WVN/WVN^/N^* THE NEW YEAR. The old man he is dead, young heir! And gone to his long account; Come! stand on his hearth, and sit in nls chaii, And into his saddle mount! The old man's face was a face to be fear'd, But thine both loving and gay; O, who would not choose for that stern white beard A bright young cheek alway ? The old man he had outlived them all, His friends, he said, were gone; But hundreds are wassailing now in the hali^ And true friends every one ! The old man moaned both sore and long Of pleasures past, he said ; But pleasures to come are the young heir's song, The living, not the dead ! The old man babbled of old regreti. Alack ! how much he owed ; But the young heir has not a feather of debts His heart withal to load ! 13 290 HACTENUS. The old man used to shudder, and seem Remembering secret sin ; But the happy young heir is as if io a dream, — • Paradise a., within! Aias ! for the old man, — where is he now ? And fear for thyself, young heir ; For he was innocent once as thou, As ruddy, and blithe, and fair: Reap wisdom from his furrowed face, Cull counsel from his fe r ; O, speed tliee, young heir, in gifts and in grace, And blessings on thee, — New Year! ALL'S FOR THE BEST. {To the same music as " JS/ever Give Up.^) All's for the best! be sanguine and cheerful, Trouble and sorrow are friends in disguise, Nothing but Folly goes faithless and fearful, Courage for ever is happy and wise : All for the best, — if a man would but know it, Providence wishes us all to be blest, This is no dream of the pundit or poet, Heaven is gracious, and — All's for the best ! All for the best . set this on your standard, Soldier of sadness, or pilgrim of love, Who to the shores of Despair may have wander'd, A way-Avearied swallow, or heart-stricken dove ; All for the best ! — be a man hut confiding, Providence tenderly governs the rest, And the frail bark of his creature is guiding Wisely and warily, all for the best THE RIDDLE READ. 29i All for the best! then fling away terrors, Meet all your fears and your foes in the van, And in the midst of your dangers or errors Trust like a child, while you strive like a man All's for the best! — unbiass'd, unbounded, Providence reigns from the East to the West* And, by both wisdom und mercy surrounded, Hope and be happy that All's for the best? THE RIDDLE READ. World of sorrow, care, and change, Even to myself I reera, As adown thy vale I range, Wandering in a dream: All things are so strange. For, the dead who diad this day. Fair and young, or great and good. Though we mourn thdm, where are they? — With those before the flood; Equally past away. Living hearts have scantly time To feel some other heart most dear. Scarce can love the iove sublime Unselfishly sincere, — Death nips it in its prime! Minds have hardly power to learn How much there is-' to know arightt Can dimly tiiro' the mist discern Some little glimpse of light, — The order is, Return! 292 HACTENTJS. Willing hands but just begin Wisely to work for God and msLn, And some poor wages barely \fill As one who well began, — The Master calls, Come in! Well, — this is well : for well-begun Is all the good man here may doj He cannot hope to see half-done ; A furlong is crept through, And lo, the goal is won ! This is the life of sight and sense, And other brighter lives depend On all we here can just commence But long before an end God calls his servant hence. Take courage, courage: not in vain The Ruler has appointed thus; Account it neither grief nor pain His mercy spareth us — It is tlie laborer's gain. Here we begin to love and kno^' And when God's willing grace perceivcf The plant of heav'n hath roots to grow He plucks the ranker leaves, And doth transplant it so! OLD HAUNTS — THE BATTLE OF ROLELA 293 OLD HAUNTS. FOR MUSIC. I LOVE to linger on my track Wherever I have dwelt, In after years to loiter back, And feel as once I felt; My foot falls lightly on the sward, Yet leaves a deatiiless dint. With tenderness I iitill regard Its unforgotten print Old places have a charm for me The new can ne'er attain, Old faces — how I iong to see Their kindly look? again! Yet, these are gone : — while all arouna Is changeable as air, Pll anchor in the solid ground. And root my memories there! _«-v^/v^rf^/^y^y^.•^•^.^^/^-- THE BATTLE OF ROLEIA Ye children of the veterans Who fought for faitiiless Spain, And for ungrateful Portugal Pour'd out their blood like rain, — Come near me, and hear me. For I would tell yon well How gallantly your fathers fought, Or gloriously they foil 1 Mi HACTENUS. I sing Roleia*s bloody strife, The first of many frays When iron Wellesley led as on Invincible always ; Rolcia gay and ever green, Festooned with vines and flowers, Roleia, scorch'd and blood-bedew'd,— And half that blood was ours! The seventeenth of August, It shone out bright and clear. And still we press'd the Frenchman's flanid And hung upon his rear: From Brilos and Obidos Had we driven the bold Laborde, And now among the mountain rocks We sought him with the sword ! All golden is the plain with wheat, All purple are the hills, With luscious vineyards ripe and sweet, And laced with crystal rills ; Yet must the rills run down with gore, The corn be trampled red. Before Roleia's threshing-floor Is glutted with her dead ! O cneerily the bugles spoke. And all our hearts beat high When over Monte Junto broke The sun upon the sky; Right early from Obidos We gladly sallied, then A goodly host, in columns three, Of fourteen thousand men. Brave Ferguson led on the left, And Trant the flanking right, With iron Arthur in the midst. THE BATTLE OF EOLEIA. 295 The focus of the fight; And fast by Wellesley's gallant side The Craufurd rode amain, And Hill, the British soldier's pride, And Nightingale, and Fane. Crouching like a tiger, In his high and rocky lair, The Frenchman howled and showed his teeth And — wished he wasn't there; For Craufurd, Hill, and Nightingale, Flew at him as he lay. And up our gallant fellows sprang As bloodhounds on the prey! And, look ! we hunt the bold Laborde To Zambugeira's height — While Trant with Fane and Ferguson Outflank him left and right; And then with cheers we charge the fron- With cheers the foe reply, — No child's play was that battle brunt, We swore to win or die ! Rattled loud the muskets' roar, — We struggled man to man, — The rugged rocks were washed in gore. With gore the gullies ran! Fiercely through those mountain paths Our bloody way we force, — And find in strength upon the heights The Frenchman, foot and horse; Ah, then, my Ninth, and Twenty-ninth, Your courage was too hot. For down on your disordered ranks Secure they pour the shot; But all their horse and foot and guns Could never make you fly, — 296 HACTENUS. The losing Frenchman fights and runs, But Britons fight — and die' Up to the rescue, Ferguson. And keep the hard-fought hU; Their chiefs are picked ofi", one by one, And lo, they rally still ; They rally, and rush stoutly on, — The bold Laborde gives way, — The day is lost! the day is won! And ours is the day ! Then, well retreating, sage and slow- Alternately in mass With charging horse, the wily foe Gains Runa's rocky pass; And left us thus Roleia's field, With other fields in store, Vimiera, Torres Vedras, — And half a hundred more ! RETROSPECT. How many years are fled, — How many friends are dead: Alas, how fast The past hath past, — How speedily life hath sped! Places, that knew me of yore^ Know me for their's no more And sore at the change Q,uite strange I range Where I was at home before. PEACE AND QUIETNESS. ?97 Thoughts and things each day Sdem to be fading away j, V'et this is, I wot, Their lot to be not Continuing in one stay. A mingled mesh it seems Of facts and fancy's gleams; I scarce have power From hour to hour To separate things from dreams. Darkly, as in a glass. Like a vain shadow they pass; Their ways they wend And tend to an end, The goal of life, alas! Alas ? and wherefere so ? — Be glad for this passing show: The world and its lust Back must to their dust Before the soul can grow. Expand ! my willing mind, Thy nobler life to find. Thy childhood leave Nor grieve to bereave Thine age of toys behind. PEACE AND QUIETNESS. Peace is the precious atmosphere I breathe; And my calm mind goes to her dewy bower, A trellis rare of fragrant thoughts to wreathe, Mingling the scents and tints of every flower; 13* Z98 HACTENUS. For pity, vex her not : those inner joys That bless her in this consecrated hour, Start and away, like plovers, at a noise, Sensitive, timorous : — O do not scare My happy fancies, lest the flock take wing, Fly to the Avilderness and perish there ! For I have secret luxuries, that bring Gladness and brightness to mine eyes and heart, Memory, and Hope, and keen Imagining, Sweet thoughts and peaceful, never to depart. Then give me Silence; for my spirit is rare. Of delicate edge and tender : when I think I rear aloft a mental fabric fair; But soon as words come hurtling on the an*, Down to this dust my ruined fancies sink : Look you ! on yonder Alp's precipitous brink An avalanche is tottering; — one breath Loosens an icy chain; — it falls, — it falls. Filling the buried glens and glades with death ! Or as, when on the mountain's granite walls The hunter spies a chamois, — hush! be calm, A word will scare it, — even so, my Mind Creative, energizing, seeks the balm Of Quiet: Solitude and Peace combin'd. THE EAELY GALLOP. {Written in the saddle, on the crown of my hat.) At five on a dewy morning, Before the blazing day, To be up and off on a high-mettled horse. Over the hills away, — To drink the rich, sweet breath of the gorse, And batlie in the breeze of the Downs ASCOT: JUNE 3, 1847. - T\TIEN HERO WON. 2dfi Ha! man, if you can, match bliss like this In all the joys of towns ! With glad and grateful tongue to join The lark at his matin hymn, And thence on faith's own wing to spring And sing with Cherubim ! To pray from a deep and tender heart. With all things praying anew, The birds and the bees, and the whispering trees And heather bedropt with dew, — To be one with those early worshippers And pour the paean too ! Then, off again with a slackened rein, And a bounding heart within. To dash at a gallop over the plain. Health's golden cup to win I This, this is the race for gain and grace Richer than vases and crowns ; And you that boast your pleasures the most, Amid the" steam of towns, Come taste true bliss in a morning like this. Galloping over the Downs ! ASCOT: JUNE 3, 1847. — WHEN HERO WON Modern Olympia ! shorn of all their pride — The patriot spirit, and unlucrcd praise — Thou art a type of these degenerate days When love of simple honor all hatli died; Oh dusty, gay, and eager multitude, Agape for gold — No ! do not thus condemn ; For hundreds here are innocent, and good, And young, and fair, among, — but not of — them; 300 HACTENUS. And hundreds more enjoy, with gratitude, This well-earned holiday, so bright and green: Do not condemn ! it is a stirring scene, Though vanity and folly fill it up: Look, how the mettled racers please the Queen Ha, brave John Day — a Hero wins the cup ! LIFE. Uoia ya^ // teuj; \fiwv ; axfilg. A BUST dream, forgotten ere it fades, A vapor melting into air away. Vain hopes, vain fears, a mesh of lights and shades, A chequered labyrinth of night and day, This is our life ; a rapid, surgy flood Where each wave haunts its fellow ; on they press ; To-day is yesterday, and hope's young bud Has fruited a to-morrow's nothingness : Still on they press, and we are borne along, Forgetting and forgotten, trampling down The living and the dead in that fierce throng. With little heed of Heaven's smile or frown, And little care for others' right or wrong, So we in iron selfishness stand strong. WATERLOO. Thermopylje and Canee Were glorious fields of yora Leonidas and Hannibal Right famous evermore; WATERLOO. 30 J But w^e can claim a nobler name A field more glorious too, The chief who thus achieved for us Victorious Waterloo. Let others boast of Csesar's host Led on by Caesar's skill, And how fierce Attila could rout, And Alaric could kill; — But we — right well, O hear me telJ What British troops can do. When marshalled by a Wellington, To win a Waterloo ! O for a Pindar's harp to tune The triumphs of that day ! O for a Homer's pictured words To paint the fearful fray ! — Alas, my tongue and harp ill-strung In feeble tones and few. Hath little skill — yet right good will To sing of Waterloo. Then gather round, my comrades, And hear a soldier tell How full of honor was the day When — every man did well ! And though a soldier's speech be rough. His heart is hot and true. While thus he tells of Wellington, At hard-fought Waterloo. Sublimely calm, our iron Duko, A lion in his lair. Waited and watched with sleepless eye To see what France would dare, Nor deign'd to stir from Brussels Until he surely knew 302 HACTENUS. The foe was rushinfy on his fate At chosen Waterloo. What? should the hunter waste his strength, Nor hold his good hounds back Before he knows they near the foes And open on the track ? No : let " surprise " blight Frenchmen's eyes, For truly they shall rue The giant skill that, stern and still, Drew them to Waterloo ! Hotly the couriers gallop up To Richmond's festive scene, — Alone, alone the chieftain stood Undaunted and serene ; Ready, ready, — staunch and steady, — And forth the orders flew That marched us off to Quatre Bras, And whelming Waterloo. Begin, begin with Quatre Bras, That twin-born field of fame Where many a gallant deed was done By many a gallant name. That battle-field, which seemed to yield An earnest and review Of all that British courage dared And did at Waterloo. We heard from far old Blucher's guns. At Ligny's blazing street. And hurried on to Weimar's aid, Right glad the foe to meet; A score of miles to Quatre Bras; But still to arms we stood. And cheerly rushed without a pause To win the Boissy wood • \ WATERLOO. 303 Then, just like cowards, three to one, Before we could deploy, To crush us, Ney and Excelmans Flew down with fiendish joy ; But stout we stood in hollow squares, And foug-ht, and kept the ground, While lancer spears and cuirassiers Were charging us all round: Aye, aye, my men, we battled then Like wolves and bears at bay, And thousands there among the dead With sable Brunswick lay: And back to back in that attack The Ninety second fought, — And "steadily" the Twenty-eighth Behaved as Britons ought. Then up came Maitland with the guards. Hurrah ! they clear the wood ; But still the furious Frenchman charged. And still we stoutly stood, Till gently night drew on, and that Drew off the treacherous Ney, For when the mornhig dimly broke — The fox had stole away! This much, my lads, for Quatre Bras, And now for Waterloo, Where skill and courage did it all. With God's good help in view! For we were beardless, raw recruits. And they, more numerous far. Were fierce, mustacldoed mighty men, The veterans of war. The God of battles help'd us soon. As godless France drew nigh, SUt HACTENTJS. It was the great eighteenth of June, The sun was getting high; — And suddenly two hundred guns At once, witli thundering throats, Peal'd out their dreadful overture In deep volcano notes ! Then, by ten thousands, horse and foot. Came on the foaming Gau., And still with bristling front we stood As solid as a wall : And stout Macdonnell's Hougoumont, The centre of the van, Was storm'd and storm'd and storm'd — in vain, — He held it like a man! O who can count the myriad deeds That hundreds did in fight? Ponsonby falls, and Picton bleeds, And — both are quenched in night: And many a hero subaltern And hero private too Beat Ajax and Achilles both In winning Waterloo! What shall I say on that dread day Of Ferrier and his band ? Ten times he chased the foes away. And charged them sword in hand; Six of those ten he led his men With blood upon his brow, — And weakly in the eleventh died To live in glory now ! Or, give a stave to Shaw the brave, — In death the hero sleeps, — Hemm'd by a score, he knockd them oer, And hewed them down in heaps; WATERLOO. 305 Till, wearied out, the lion stout Beset as by a pack Of hungry hounds, fell full of wounds, But none upon his back ! And Halket then before his men Dash'd forward, and made prize (While both the lines in wonderment Could scarce believe their eyes) Of a gaily-plumed French General Haranguing his array ; But Halket caught him, speech and all, And bore him right away ! Thee too, De Lancey, generous chief, For thee a niche be found, — Wounded to death, he scorn'd relief Whilst others bled around; And D'Oyley and Fitzgerald died, Just as the day was won, — And Gordon, by his general's side — The side of Wellington ! And Somerset and Uxbridge then Gave each a limb to death ; Curzon and Canning cheered their men With their last dying breath ; And gallant Miller, stricken sore. With fainting utterance cries, * "Bring me my colors! wave them o'er Your colonel till he dies ! ^ Then furious waxed the Emperor That Britons wouldn't run, " Les betes, pourquoi ne fuient ils pas ? Et done, ce Vellinrrton ? " But Vellington still holds his own For eight red hours and more, 306 HACTENUS. "Why comes not Marshal Blucher down? — Ha ! — there's his cannons' roar, — "Up, guards, and at them! charge!" — tne word Like forked lightning passes, And lance, and bayonet, and sword Rush on in glittering masses ! Back, back, the surging columns roll In terrified dismay, And onward shout against the rout The conquerors of the day! O now, the tide of battle Is turn'd to seas of blood, When case and grape shot rattle Among the multitude, And Fates, led on by Furies, Destroy the flying host. And Chaos, mated with Despair, Makes all the lost most lost! Woe, woe ! thou catiff-hero. Thou Emperor — and slave. Why didst not thou, too, nobly bleed With those devoted brave ? No, no, the coward's thought was self, And "sauve qui pent" his cry. And verily at Waterloo Did Great Napoleon die ! And died to fame, while yet his name Was on ten thousand tongues That trusted him, and pray'd to him. And — curs'd him for their wrongs ' O noble souls! Imperial Guard, Had your chief been but true, Ye would have stood and stopp'd the rout At crushinir Waterloo. I WATERLOO. 307 Still as they fled from Wellington To Blucher's arms they flew ; These two made up the Quatre Bras To clutch a Waterloo ! Ha! Blucher's Prussian vengeance Was fully sated then, When hated France upon the field Left forty thousand men. Thus, comrades, hath a soldier told What Wellington's calm skill, When help'd by troops of British mould And God's almighty will, Against a veteran triple force In battle-field can do : — Then, three times three for Wellington, The Prince of Waterloo ! • ARE YOU A GREAT READER?' I HOPE to ripen into richer wine Than mixed Falernian ; those decantered streams Pour'd from another's chalice into thine Make less of wisdom than the scholar dreams ; Precept on precept, tedious line on line. That never-thinking, ever-reading plan Fashion some patchwork garments for a man. But starve his mind: it starves of too much meat, An undigested surfeit ; as for me I am untamed, a spirit free and fleet That cannot brook the studious yoke, nor be Like some dull grazing ox without a soul. But feeling racer's shoes upon my feet. Before my teacher starts, I touch the goal. 308 HACTENUS. THE VERDICT. I LEAVE all judgments to that better world And my more righteous Judge : for He shall tell In the dread day when from their thrones are hurl'd Each human tyranny and earthly spell, That which alone of all He knoweth well — The heart's own secret ; He shall tell it out With all the feelings and the sorrows there, The fears within, the foes that hemm'd without, Neglect, and wrong, and calumny and care : For He hath saved thine every tearful pray'r In His own lachrymal ; and noted down Each unconsidered grief with tenderest love : Look up ! beyond the cross behold the crown. And for all wrongs below all rights above ' ii^^«'WWV.A/'.rv*'>-^ GUERNSEY. Guernsey! to me and in my partial eyes Thou art a holy and enchanted isle. Where I would linger long, and muse the while Of ancient thoughts and solemn memories, Quickening the tender tear or pensive smile: Guernsey ! — for nearly thrice a hundred years Home of my fathers ! refuge from their fears, And haven to their hope, — when long of yore Fleeing Imperial Charles and bloody Rome Protestant martyrs, to thy seagirt sliore They came to seek a temple and a home. And found thee generous, — 1 their son would pour My heart full all of praise and thanks to thee. Island of welcomes, — friendly, frank, and free ! ALL'S RIGHT — THE C0:MPLAINT. 309 ALL'S RIGHT. FOR MUSIC. O NEVER despair at the troubles of life, All's right! In the midst of anxiety, peril, and strife, All's right! The cheerful philosophy never was wrong That ever puts this on the tip of my tongue And makes it ray glory, my strength, and my song, All's right! The Pilot beside us is steering us still. All's right! The Champion above us is guarding from ill. All's right! Let others who know neither Father nor Friend Go trembling and doubting in fear to the end, — For me, on this motto I gladly depend. All's riofht! THE COMPLAINT OF AN ANCIENT BRITON DISINTERRED BY ARCHiEOLOGISTS- Two thousand years agone They heaped my battle grave. And each a tear and each a stone. My mourning warriors gave ; For I had borne me well, And fought as patriots fight. Till, like a British chief, I fell Contending for the right. 810 HACTENUS. Seamed with many a wound, All weakly did I lie; My foes were dead or dying round,— And thus I joyed to die ! For their marauding crew Came treacherously to kill, — The many came against tlie few To storm our sacred hill. We battled and bled, We won, and paid the price, For I, the chief, lay down with the dead, A willing sacrifice ! My liegemen wailed me long, And treasured up my bones. And reared my kist secure and strong With tributary stones : High on the breezy down My native hill's own breast Nigh to the din of mine ancient town, They left me to my rest. I hoped for peace and calm Until my judgment hour. And then to awake for the victor's palm And patriot's tlirone of power ! And lo, till this dark day ■ Did men my grave revere: Two thousand years had passed away, And still I slumbered here : But now, there broke a noise Upon my silent home, 'Twas not the Resurrection voice That burst my turfy tomb, — But men of prying mind, Alas, my fellow men, Ravage my grave, my bones to find With sacreligious ken! Mine honor doth abjure Your new barbarian race ; Restore, restore my bones secure FARLEY HEATH. To some more secret place! With mattock and with spade Ye dare to break my rest; Tlie pious mound is all unmade My clan had counted blest: Take, take, my buckler's boss, My sword, and spear, and chain,— Steal all ye can of this world's dross, But — rest my bones again! I know your modern boast Is light, and learning's spread,— Learn of a Celt to show them most, In honor to tlie Dead! 311 FARLEY HEATH, NEAR ALBURY. Many a day have I whiled away Upon hopeful Farley heath, In its antique soil digging for spoil Of possible treasure beneath ; For Celts, and querns, and funeral urns. And rich red Samian ware, And sculptured stones, and centurion's bones May all lie buried there! How calmly serene, and glad have 1 been From morn till eve to stay. My Surrey serfs turning the turfs The happy live-long day ; With eye still bright, and hope yet alight, Wistfully watciiing the mould As the spade brings up fragments of things Fifteen centuries old! 812 HACTENUS. Pleasant and rare it was to be there On a joyous day of June, With the circlingr scene all gay and green Steep'd in the silent noon ; When beauty distils from the calm glad hills, — From the downs and dimpling vales And every grove, lazy with love, Whispereth tenderest tales ! O then to look back upon Time's old track, And dream of the days long past, When Rome leant here on his sentinel spear, And loud was the clarion's blast — As wild and shrill from Martyr's hill Echoed the patriot sliout. Or rushed pell-mell with a midnight yell The rude barbarian rout ! Yes ; every stone has a tale of its own — A volume of old lore ; And this white sand from many a brand Has polished gouts of gore; When Holmbury-height had its beacon light. And Cantii held old Leith, And Rome stood then with his iron men On ancient Farley heath ! How many a group of that exiled troop Have here sung songs of home, Chanting aloud to a wondering crowd The glories of old Rome ! Or lying at length have bask'd their strength Amid this heather and gorse, Or down by the well in the larch-grown dell Watered the black war-horso! Look, look ! my day-dream right ready would seem The past with the present to join, — WISDOM. 31d For see ! I have found in this rare ground An eloquent green old coin, With turquoise rust on its Emperor's bust, — Some Ccesar, august Lord ; And the legend terse, and the classic reverse, " Victory, valor's reward ! — " Victory, — yes ! and happiness. Kind comrade, to me and to you, When such rich spoil has crowned our ton And proved the day-dream true ; With hearty acclaim how we hail'd by his name The Cajsar of that coin. And told with a shout his titles out, And drank his health in wine ! And then how blest the noon-day rest Reclined on a grassy bank. With hungry cheer and the brave old beer Better than Odin drank ; And the secret balm of the spirit at calm. And poetry, hope, and health, — Aye, have I not found in that rare ground A mine of more than wealth? WISDOM. It is the way we go, the way of life , A drop of pleasure in a sea of pain, A grain of peace amid a load of strife. With toil and grief, and grief and toil again: Yea: — but for this; the firm and faithful breast, Bolder than lion's, confident and sirong. That never doubts its birthright to be blest. And dreads no evil while it does no wrong : 14 314 HACTENUS. This, this is wisdom, manful and serene. Towards God all penitence and prayer and trust, But to the troubles of this shifting scene Simply courageous and sublimely just: Be then such wisdom thine, my heart within, — There is no foe nor woe nor grief but — Sin. THE HEART'S HUSBAND. FOR MUSIC. Go, leave me to weep for the years that are past, For my youth, and its friends, and its pleasures all dead, My spring and my summer are fading too fast. And I long to live over the days that are fled ; It is not for sorrows or sins on my track That I mournfully cast my fond yearnings behind, — — Ah, no, — from affection I love to look back. It is only my heart that has wedded my Mind. And still, let the Mind that has married a Heart Though loving, be strong as a King in his pride, And ever command that all weakness depart From the realm that he rules in the soul of his bride; For what, if all time and all pleasures decay ? My Mind is myself, an invincible chief, — Like a child's broken toys are the years past away, And my Heart, half-ashamed, has forgotten her grief. PKOPHETS — WHEAT-CORN, AJSTD CHAPF. 3 Id PROPHETS. Prophets at home, — I smile to note your wrongs; How scantly praised at each ancestral hearth Are ye, caress'd by million hearts and tongues, And full of honors over half the earth: O petty jealousies and paltry strife ! The little minds that chronicle a birth Stood once for teachers in the task of life ; But, as the child of genius grew apace, Dismay'd at his gigantic lineaments, They feared to find his glory their disgrace, His mind their master: so their worldly aim Is still to vex him with discouragements. To check the springtide budding of his fame, And keep it down to save themselves a name WHEAT-CORN, AND CHAFF. My little learning fadeth fast away, And all the host of words and forms and rules Bred in my teeming youth of books and schools Dwindle to le«s and lighter; night and day I dream of tasks undone, and lore forgot, Seeming some sailor in the "ship of fools," Some debtor owing what he cannot pay. Some Conner of old themes remembered not. Despise such small oblivion; 'tis the lot Of human life, amid its chance and change To learn, and then unlearn ; to seek and find, And then to lose familiars grown quite strange : Store up, store wisdom's corn in heart and mind, But fling the chaflf on every winnowing wind. ♦16 HACTENUS. THE HAPPY MAN. A MAN of no regrets, He goes his sunny way Owing the past no load of debts The present cannot pay: He wedded his first love, Nor loved another since ; He sets his nobler hopes above; He reigns in joy a Prince! A man of no regrets, He hath no cares to vex. No secret griefs, nor mental nets Nor troubles to perplex; Forgiveness to his sin. And help in every need, Blessing around, and peace within, Crown him a King indeed ! A man of no regrets. Upon his Empire free The sun of gladness never sets, — Then who so rich as he? Yea, God upon my heart Hath poured all blessings down; Then yield to Him, with all thou art The homage of thy crown! HERALDS. 317 HERALDIC. • High in Battle's antlered hall Ancient as its Abbey wall, Hangs a helmet, brown with rust, Cobweb'd o'er, and thick in dust High it hangs, 'mid pikes and bows Scowling still at spectral foes. Proud and stern, with vizor down. And fearful in its feudal frown. When I saw what ail'd thee, heart, "Wherefore should I stop and start? That old helm, with that old crest. Is more to me than all the rest; Battered, broken, though it be, That old helm is all to me. Yon black greyhound knoweth well : Many a tale hath it to tell How in troublous times of old Sires of mine, with bearing bold, Bearing bold, but much mischance, Sway'd the sword, or poised the lance, — Much mischance, desponding still. They 'bugnt and fell, foreboding ill: And their scallop, gules with blood, Fessed amid the azure flood, Show'd the pilgrim, slain afar O'er the sea, in Holy War: While that faithful greyhound black Vainly watch d the wild boar's track ; And the legend and the name Proved all lost but hope and fame, — Tout * est perdu, fors I'honneur, Mas " UEspoir est ma force " sans peur. > — ■ ■ — ' — — ' * Corruption, in the course of generations, has con\ ertcd this piece of chiva.roui despondency into the Author's modernized and ineuphonious name. 818 HACTENUS. THE TRUE EPICURE. How saidst thou ? — Pleasure : why, my life is pleasure My days are pleasantness, my nights are peace; I drink of joys which neither cloy nor cease, A well that gushes blessings without measure. Ah, thou hast little heed how rich and glad, How happy is my soul in her full treasure, How seldom but for honest pity sad, How constantly at calm ! — my very cares Are sweetness in my cup, as being sent; And country quiet and retired leisure Keep me from half the common fears and snares ; And I have learnt the wisdom of content : Yea, and, to crown the cup of peace with praise. Both God and man have blest my works and ways. THRENOS. Vanitt, vanity! dead hopes and fears. Dim flitting phantoms of departed years, Unsatisfying sliadows, vague and cold. Of thoughts and things that made my joys of old, Sad memories of the kindly words and ways And looks and loves of friends in other days, - Alas ! all gone — a dream, a very dream, A dream is all you are, and all you seem! life, I do forget thee : I look back. And lo, the desert wind has swept my track: 1 stand upon this bare and solid ground, And, strangely wakened, wonder all around ; How came I here ? and whence ? and whither tend ? THUENOS. 319 Speak, friend ! — if death and time have spared a friend . Behold, the place that knew me well of yore Knoweth me not; and that familiar floor Where all my kith and kin were wont to meet Is now grown strange, and throng'd by other feet O soul, my soul, consider thou that spot, Root there thy gratitude, and leave it not ; Still let remembrance, with a swimming eye. Live in those rooms, nor pass them coldly by ; Still let affection cling to those old days. And yearning fondly paint them bright with praise: O once my home — with all thy blessings fled, O forms and faces — gathered to the dead, O scenes of joy and sorrow — faded fast ! — How hollow sound thy footsteps, ghostlike past. An aching emptiness is all thou art, A famine hid within the caverned heart. Thou changeless one, — how blest to have no change,— Only with Thee, my God, I feel not strange ; Thou art the same for ever and for aye. To-morrow and to-day as yesterday. Thou art the same, — a tranquil Present still ; There I can hide, and bless Thy sovereign will: Yes, bless Thee, O my Father, that Thy love Call'd in an instant to the bliss above, From ills to come and grief and care and fear, Thy type to me, most honor'd and most dear ! O true and tender spirit, pure and good, So vex'd on earth and little understood. Thy gentle nature was not fit for strife, But quail'd to meet the waking woes of life ; And therefore God our Father kindly made Thy sleep a death, lest thou shouldst feel afraid! 820 HACTENUS. THE DEAD. A DIRGE. I LOVE the dead ! The precious spirits gone before, And waiting- on tliat peaceful shore To meet with welcome looks and kiss me yet once more " I love the dead ! And fondly doth my fancy paint Each dear one, wash'd from earthly laint, By patience and by hope made a most gentle saint O glorious dead! Without one spot upon the dress Of your ethereal loveliness, Ye linger round me still with earnest will to bless. Enfranchised dead! Each fault and failing left behind And nothing now to chill or bind, How gloriously ye reign in majesty of mind ! royal dead! The resting, free, unfettered dead. The yearning, conscious, holy dead. The hoping, waiting, calm, the happy, changeless dead ! 1 love the dead I And well forget their little ill. Eager to bask my memory still THE DEAD. 321 In all their best of words and deeds and wavs and will. I bless the dead ! Their good, half choked by this world's weeds, Is blooming now in heavenly meads, And ripening golden fruit, of all those early seeds. I trust the dead! They understand me frankly now, There are no clouds on heart or brow, But spirit, reading spirit, answereth glow for glow. I praise the dead ! All their tears are wiped away. Their darkness turned to perfect day,— How blessed are the dead, how beautiful be they ! O gracious dead! That watch me from your paradise With happy tender starlike eyes, Let your sweet influence rain me blessings from the skies. Yet, helpless dead. Vainly my yearning nature dares Such unpremeditated prayers ; — All vain it were for them, as even for me their's. Immortal dead ! Y"e in your lot are fixed as taie, And man or angel is too late To beckon back by prayer one change upon your state. 14* HACTENUS. O, godlike dead, Ye that do rest, like Noah's dove, Fearless I leave you to the iove Of him who gave you peace to bear with you above. And ye, the dead Godless on earth, and gone astrajj Alas, your hour is past away,— The Judge is just; for you it now were sin to pray. Still, all ye dead, First may be last and last be first,— Charity counteth no man curst, But hopeth still in Him whose love would save the worsL Therefore, ye dead, I love you, be ye good or ill, For God, our God, doth love me still, And you He loved on earth with love that naught could chilL And some, just dead, To me on earth most deeply dear, Who loved and nursed and blest me here, 1 love you with a love that casteth out all fear. Come near me. Dead! In spirit come to me, and kiss, — No ! — I must wait awhile for this A few, few years or days and 1 too feed on bliss! TO AMEEICA 323 TO AMERICA: Columbia, child of Britain, — noblest child, I praise the growing lustre of thy worth. And fain would see thy great heart reconcil'd To love the mother of so blest a birth : For we are one, Columbia ! still the same In lineage, language, laws, and ancient fame, The natural nobil ity of earth : Yes, we are one ; the glorious days of yore, When dear old England earn'd her storied name Are thine as well as ours for evermore ; And thou hast rights in Milton, ev'n as we, Thou too canst claim " sweet Shakspeare's wood-notes wild,**- And chiefest, brother, we are both made free Of one Religion, pure and undefil'd ! II. I blame thee not, as other some have blam'd, — The high-born heir had grown to man's estate, I mock thee not as some who should be shamed, Nor ferret out thy faults with envious hate; Far otnerwise, — by generous love inflamed. Patriot, I praise my country's foreign son, Rejoicing in the blaze of good and great That diadems thy head! — go on, go on. Young Hercules, thus travelling in migni, Boy-Plato, fillmg all the west with light Thou new Themistocles for enterprise. Go on and prosper, Acolyte of fate ! And, precious child, dear Ephraim, turn those eyes,' Foi thee thy Mother's yearning heart doth wait. ) 324 HACTENUS. III. Let aged Britain claim the classic Paf»t, A SAining track of bright and mighty deeds, For thee I prophesy the Future vast Whereof the Present sows its giant seeds : Corruption and decay come thick and fast O'er poor old England ; yet a few dark years And we must die as nations died of vore ! But, in the millions of thy teeming shore, Thy patriots, sages, warriors, saints, and seers, Wfe*^live again, Columbia! yea, once more Unto a thousand generations live, The mother in the child ; to all the West Through Thee shall We earth's choicest blessings give, Ev'n as our Orient world in Us is blest. ir. Thou noble scion of an ancient root, Born of the forest-king ! spread forth, spread forth, High to the stars thy tender leaflets shoot, Deep dig thy fibres round the ribs of earth ! From sea to sea, from South to icy INorth, It must ere long be thine, through good or ill. To stretch thy sinewy boughs : Go, wondrous child ! The glories of thy destiny fulfil ; — Remember then thy mother in her age, Shelter her in the tempest, warring wild, Stand thou with us when all the nations rage So furiously together ! — we are one : And, through all time, the calm historic page Shall tell of Britain blest in thee her son. — i/VWWWWUVN^*" WELLINGTON AND HIS ARMT. 326 THE THANKS OF PARLIAMENT TO WK.^iNGiON AND HIS ARMY. Out spake a nation's vcice, Concentred in her king, While cannons roar, and hearts rejoicei And all the steeples nag: Out spake old England then By prelates and by peers ; By all her best and wisest men, Her sages and her seers — Old England and her pair Of sisters, north and west, The comely graces, fresh and fair, Who charm the world to rest All honor to the brave ! — The living and the dead, — Who only fought to bless and save, And crush the hydra's head: All honor and all thanks To every mother's son, Saxon, or Celt, o. Gael, or Mani^ Who fought with Wellington! For heroes were they all, To conquer or to die, By Ahmednuggra's bastion'd wnl Or desperate Assye: And heroes still, they strive Against the dangerous Dane, When France stirrec* up the northern hive, To sting us on the main: 826 HACTEXUS. All heroes, heroes still, For Lusitania's right; Be red Roleia's hard-fought hill. And Vimiera's fight : And stout the heroes stood On Talavera's day ; And wrote their conquering names in blood At Salamanca's fray; Still heroes, on they went O'er Ciudad's gory fosse, And stern Sebastian's battlement, And thundering Badajoz And, heroes ever, taught Old Soult to fly and yield. Shouting " Victory " as they fought On red Vittoria's field ; And, heroes aye, they flew To Orthez, conquering yet; Until, at whelming Waterloo, The Frenchman's sun had set! Then, thanks ! thou glorious chief, And thanks ! ye gallant band, Who, under God, to man's relief Stretched out the saving band : All Britain thanks you well. By peasant, peer, and king; To all who fought for us, or fell, Immortal honors bring I Peal fast the merry chime. And bid the cannon roar In praise of heroes, whom all time Shall cherish evermore ! PAIN — AJbRlAN'S APOSTROPHE. 327 FAIN. Delay not, sinner, till the hour of pam To seek repentance ; pain is absolute. Exacting" all the body and the brain, Humanity's stern king from head to foot: How canst thou pray, while fevered arrows shoot Througn this torn targe, — while every bone doth ache. And the scared mind raves up and down her cell iiestless, and begging rest for mercy's sake ? Add not to death the bitter fears of hell ; Take pity on thy future self, poor man, While yet in strength thy timely wisdom can, — Wrestle to-day with sin ; and spare that strife Of meeting terrors in the van. Just at the ebbing agony of life. IHREE VERSIONS OF ADRIAN'S APOSTROPHE, Animula, vagula, blandule, Hospes, comesque, corporis. Quae nunc abibis in loca? Pallidula, rigidi, nudula. Nee, ut soles, dabis jocos? Pleasant little fluttering sprite, Long my bosom's merry guest. Whither now to wing thy flight? Ah! thou frozen little wight, Pale, and naked, and unblest, Never more a jibe or jest? 328 HACTENXTS. "1 SofV little but.tcrfly-g'nest of my heart, Whiilicr now llittest thou, spirit of mine ? Woe, — for thy merriment must it depart Naked and frigid and pallid tc pine? III. Soul, thou tiny truant dear, Bosom friend for many a year, Restless little darling, say, Whither stealest thou away? Pallid as a fainting maid, Naked, icy-cold, afraid, Is then all thy wit in vain, — Shalt thou never laugh again? •./\/V\AA/\/VN^^/S.^w- NO SURRENDER. FOR MUSIC. Ever constant, ever true. Let the word be. No surrender; Boldly dare and greatly do ! This shall bring us bravely through. No surrender. No surrender; And though Fortune's smiles be few Hope is always springing new. Still inspiring me and you With a magic — No surrender f Nail the colors to the mast. Shouting glad, No surrender! Troubles near are all but past — NE^^R MIND. 329 Serve them as you did the last, No surrender, No surrender! Though the skies be overcast And upon the sleety blast Disappointments gather fast, Beat them off with No ' Surrender ! vonstant and courageous still, Mind, the word is No surrender; Baetle, tho' it be uphill, Stagger not at seeming ill. No surrender. No surrender! Hope, — and thus your hope fulfil, — There's a way where there's a will, And the way all cares to kill Is to give them — No surrender , NEVER MIND. FOR MUSIC. Soul, be strong, whate'er betide, God himself is guard and guide, — With my Father at my side. Never mind! Clouds and darkness hover near, Men's hearts failing them for fear. But be thou of right good cheer. Never mind ! Come what may, some work is donev Praise the Father through the Son, Goals are gain'd and prizes won, Never mind ! 830 HACTENUS. And if now the skies look black All the past behind my back, Is a bright and blessed track; Never mind ! Stand in patient courage still, Working out thy Master's will. Compass good, and conquer ill; Never mind! Fight, for all their bullying boast, Dark temptation's evil host. This is thy predestined post; Never mind! Be then cranquil as a dove ; Throng these thunder-clouds above Shines afar the heaven of love; Never mind I THE CROMLECH DU TUS, GUERNSEY.* Hoary relic, stern and old, * Heaving huge above the mould Like some mammoth, lull'd to sleep By the magic-murmuring deep. Till those grey gigantic bones Gorgon-time hath frown'd to stones, — Who shall tell thine awful tale. Massy Cromlech at "The Vale?" Ruthless altar, hungry tomb' Superstition's throne of g\y/ »n. Where, in black sepulchral state. • See an interesling paper by Mr. F. C. Lukis, m itie A, . a»-.iOgical Journal for April, 1845. THE CROMLECH DU TUS. 33i High the hooded Spectre sate, Terrible and throng'd by fears Brooding for a thousand years As a thunder-cloud above All that wretched men may love, — Is there no grim witness near That shall whisper words of fear, Every brother's heart to thrill, Every brother's blood to chill. While thy records are revealed. And thy mysteries unsealed ? Lift, with Titan toil and pain. Lift the lid by might and main, — Lift the lid and look within On — this charnel house of Sin! O, twin brethren, how and when Dwelt ye in this rocky den ! Rise, dread martyrs ! for your bones Chronicle these cromlech-stones! Rise, ye grisly, ghastly pair, — Skeletons ! how came ye there — Kneeling starkly side by side More like life than those who died? More like life ? — O what a spell Of horror cowers in that cell ! More like life? — Alive they went Into that stone tenement. Bound as in religious ease Meekly kneeling on their knees. And the cruel thongs confin'd All but the distracted mind. That with terror raved to see. Woe! how slow such death would be: Woe ! how slow and full of dread : Pining, dying, but not dead — Pining, dying in the tomb, Drown'd in gulfs of starving gloom, With corruption, hideous fear. Creeping noiselessly more near, 332 HACTENUS. While the victims slowly died, Link'd together side by side, Till in manacled mad strife Both had struggled out of life! Yea: some idol claim'd the price Of this living sacrifice ; Some grim demon's dark high priest Bound these slaves for Odin's feast. Offering up with rites of hell Human pangs to Thor or Bel I — Christians, ponder on these bones ; Kneel around the Cromlech-stones ; Kneel and thank our God above That His name. His heart is Love;, That His thirst is, — not for blood, But — for joy and gratitude ; That He bids no soul be sad. But is glad to make us glad; That He loves not man's despair. But delights to bless his prayer! A FAMILY PICTURE. My little ones, my darling ones, my precious things of earth. How gladly do I triumph in the blessing of your birth ; How heartily for praises, and how earnestly for prayers, I yearn upon your loveliness, my dear delightful cares ! children, happy word of peace, my jewels and my goid, My truest friends till now, and still my truest friends when old, 1 will be every thing to you, your playmate and your guide. Both Mentor and Telemachus for ever at your side! A FAMILY PICTtmE. S33 I will be ey*' - 'Jiing to you, your sympathizingf friend, To tearh, an* 'f 'D, and ^.ftad, and bless, ai' •^omfort, and defend, come 'o me md ?»t) me all, and ye shal find me true, A brother in adversity to fight it out for yon' Yea, sins or follies, griefs or cares, or young affection's thrall. Fear not, for I am one with you, and I have felt them all ; 1 will be tender, just, and kind, unwilling to reprove, I will do all to bless you all by wisdom and by love. O blessed boon and gain to me, O mercy praise, and pride! Ye lack none other heritage your father's name beside: Wnen I am dead, your little ones shfJl i-fftd my words with glee When they are dead, their little ones wii still remember me. My tender babes, delighted I review y^ as ye stand, A pretty troop of fairies and young chfr' bs hand in hand. And tell out all your names to be a deu familiar sound Wherever English hearths and hearts about the world abound. My eldest, of the sparkling eyes, my Ellin, nine years old, Thou thoughtful good example of the loving little fold, My Ellin, they shall hear of thee, fair spirit, holy child. The truthful and the well-resolved, the liberal and the mild. And ftiee, my Mary, what of thee ? — the beauty of thy face ? The coyly-pretty whims and ways that ray thee round with grace ? — O more than these ; a dear warm heart that still must thrill and glow With pure affection's sunshine, and with feeling's overflow! Thou too, my gentle five-year-old, fair Margaret the pearl, A quiet, sick, and suffering child, sweet patient little girl, — Yet gay withal and frolicsome at times wilt thou appear. And like a bell thy merry voice rings musical and clear. And next my Selwyn, precious boy, a glorious young mind, The sensitive, the passionate, the noble, and the kind, *.i4: HACTENTJS. Whose light-brown locks bedropt with gold, and large eyes fuD of love, And generous nature mingle well the lion and the dove. The last, an infant toothless one, now prattling on my knee, Whose bland, benevolent, soft face is shining upon me ; Another silver star upon our calm domestic sky, Another seed of happy hope, dropt kindly from on high. This sealeth up the sum to us, my loved and loving wife. Be these to us the pleasure and the business of life : And thou to me, what art thou not? through infancy and youth, And manhood's prime, as now, my all of constancy and truth ' A happy man, — be this my praise, — not riches, rank, or fame, A happy man, with means enough, — no other lot or name: A happy man, with you for friends, my children and my wife, — — Ambition is o'ervaulted here in all that gladdens life ! Yes ! leave me to my happy thoughts, and these about me still, In ancient woods of Albury, or on my fresh Furze Hill ; And, children, teach your children, too, by righteousness to stand, For so^ they shall inherit peace and blessings in the land. POSTSCRIPT. HENRY DE B. T. Hail then a sixth ! my doubly triple joy, Another blessing in a third-born boy, Another soul by generous Favor sent To teach and train for heaven through content, Another second-self with hopes like mine In better worlds beyond the stars to shine, Another little hostage from above ERRATA — BIPROMPTXT. 335 The pledge and promise of our Father's love ! God g-uard the babe ; and cherish the young child : And bless the boy with nurture wise and mild; And lead the lad, and yearn upon the youth ; And make the man a man of trust and truth ; Through life and death uphold him all his days, And then translate him to Thyself with praise ! ERRATA. AN author's complaint. O FRIENDS and brothers, judge me not unheard , Make not a man offender for a word: For often have I noted seeming fault That harm'd my rhymes, and made my reasons halt, Whilst all that error was some printer's sloth. Who, scorning rhyme and reason, slew them both: Be ye then liberal to your far-off friend, Where garbled, guess him; and Avhere maim'd, amend Trust him for wit, when types have marr'd the word, And wisdom, too, where only blockheads err'd. IMPROMPTU. TO ONE WHO SAID THAT SHE DISLIKED POETRY. Lady, thou lovest high and holy Thought, And noble deeds, and hopes sublime or beauteous, Thou lovest charities in secret wrought, And all things pure and generous and duteous ; HACTENUS. What then if these be drest m robes of power, Triumphant words, that thrill the heart of man, Conquering for good beyond the flitting hour, With stately march, and music in the van? "rf^/^/\/'^/ww^.'^'^— ' VENUS: 4. REPLt TO Longfellow's poem on mars, in "voices of the NIGHT." Thou lover of the blaze of Mars, Come out with me to-night. For I have found among the stars A name of nobler light : Thy boast is of the unconquered Mind, The strong, the stern, the still ; Mine of the happier Heart, resigned To Wisdom's holy will. They call my star by Beauty's name, The gentle Queen of Love ; And look ! how fair its tender flame Is flickering above : star of peace, O torch of hope, I hail thy precious ray, A diamond on the ebon cope To shine the dark away. Within my heart there is no light But Cometh from above, 1 give the first watch of the night To the sweet planet, Love : "THE WARM YOUNG HEAHT." 337 The star of Charity and Truth, Of cheerful thoughts and sage, The lamp to guide my steps in youth, And gladden mine old age ! O brother, yield: thy fiery Mars, For all his mailed misfht, T« not so strong among the stars As mine, the Queen of night : A Queen to shine all nights away. And make the morn more clear, Contentment gilding every day, — — There is no twilight here! Yes; in a trial world like this Where all that comes — is sent. Learn how divine a thing it is To smile and be content ! 7HE WARM YOUNG HEART." FOR MUSIC. \ BEAUTIFUL face, and a form of grace Were a pleasant sight to see, \nd gold, and gems, and diadems, Right excellent they be : 8ut beauty and gold, tho' both be untold, Are things of a worldly mart, The wealth that I prize, above ingots or eyes, Is a heart, — a warm young heart ! O face most fair, shall thy beauty compare With affection's glowing light ? 15 838 HACTENUS. riches and pride, how pale ye beside Love's wealth, serene and bright! 1 spurn thee away, as a cold thing of clay, Tho' gilded and carved thou art, For all that I prize, in its smiles and its sighs, Is a heart, — a warm young heart! A CONSECRATION. October 29, 1847. Like some fair Nun, the pious and the chaste, Shalford, thy new-born temple stands serene, Modestly deck'd in pure old English taste. The village beauty of thy tranquil scene ; And we to-day have made religious haste To see thee wedded to thy heavenly Spouse Kneeling in unison of praise and prayer To help the offering of thy maiden vows: Hark! what a thrilling utterance is there, "Lift up your heads, ye everlasting gates," — As God's high-priest with apostolic care To HIM this tent of glory consecrates : Good work ! to be remembered for all time. The seed of mercies endless and sublime ! * Come in, thou King of Glory," yea, come in. Rest here awhile, great Conqueror for good ! Bless thou this font to cleanse from Adam's sin. Spread thou this table with celestial food! And, kindled by Thy grace to gratitude, May thousands here eternal treasures win. As, hither led, from time to time with joy They seek their Father: lo! before mine eyes Visions and promises of good arise. — HTMN AND CHANT. 339 The tender babe baptized, the stripling boy Confirm'd for godliness, the maid and youth Wedded in love, the man mature made wise, The elder taught in righteousness and tru^h, And each an heir of life before he dies! I THE THANKSGIVING HYMN AND CHANT FOR THE HARVEST HOME OF 1847, O NATION, Christian nation, Lift high the hymn of praise, The God of our Salvation Is love in all his ways ; He blesses us, and feedeth Every creature of his hand, To succor him that needeth, And to gladden all the land! Rejoice, ye happy people. And peal the changing chime From every belfried steeple In symphony sublime: Let cottage and let palace Be thankful, and rejoice. And woods, and hills, and valleys Re-echo the glad voice ! From glen, and plain, and city, Let gracious incense rise, The Lord of lifo in pity Hath heard his creatures' cries* And where in fierce oppressing Stalk'd fever, fear, and dearth, He pours a triple blessing To fill and fatten earth! 840 HACTENUS. Gaze round in deep emotion: The rich and ripen'd grain Is like a golden ocean Becalmed upon the plain ; And we who late were weepers, Lest judgment should destroy, Now sing, because the reapers Are come again with joy ! O praise the hand that giveth — And giveth evermore — To every soul that liveth Abundance flowing o'er! For every soul He filleth With manna from above, And over all distilleth The unction of His love. Then gather, Christians, gather, To praise with heart and voice The good Almighty Father, Who biddeth you rejoice : For he hath turned the sadness Of his children into mirth, And we will sing with gladness The harvest-home of earth! 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, dressed 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 ; HYMN AND CHANT. 341 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 labor 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 ! 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 ! 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 labor, 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 ! 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! 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, Un ty, gratitude, contentment ; industry, peace, and plenty ; Bless Him that his chastening rod is now the sceptre of forgiveness, And in your joy remember well to praise the God of harvest ! Come, come along with me, and swell this grateful song, Ye nobler hearts, old England's own, the children of the soil : All ye that sowed the seed in faith, with those who reaped m joy 342 HACTENUS. 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 raen that load the sluggish wain, or neatly thatch the rick, — Shout and sing for happiness of heart, nor stmt 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 ! M. T. Forgotten ? — not forgotten, kind, good man, Tho' seldom fully prized at thy great worth, — I will embalm thy memory as I can. And send this blessing to the ends of earth ! For thou wert all things kindly unto all, Benevolent and liberal from birth, Ever responsive to affection's call. And full of care for others, — full of care — Weary with others' burdens, generous heart, And yet thine own too little strong to bear: Father! I owe thee all, and cannot pay The happy debt, until I too depart ; Then, will I bless and love it all away In that bright world, my Father, where thou art ' TWO PSALMS. I. THE 19th. Heav'n declares its Makers glory. And the firmament His might ; Day to day the wondrous story Echoes on, and night to night: TWO PSALMS. 341 All is silence, yet Creation Knows and hears that voiceless speech Which to every tribe and nation Doth their Maker's glory teach. From his chamber bright in heaven Lo, the bridegroom of the earth Gladness by his smile hath given, And awakes the morn to mirth: Not less full of life and pleasure Is God's truth, nor less complete ; 'Tis more precious than all treasure, Than the honeycomb more sweet It rejoices, heals, and teaches, Ever holy, just, and good ; To the inmost feeling reaches, And leads up the heart to God. Warned by that, thy servant turneth To the path that tends to bliss ; Yet, who all his faults discerneth .' Cleanse me, if I err in this. Let not pride be ruler in me, But deliver, guide, forgive, Thus, corruption quenched within m^ I shall be upright and live. Let my words and meditation, Ever pleasing in thy sight. Meet with gracious acceptation, My Redeemer and my Might! II. THE 20th. God in time of trouble hear thee, And the name of Jacob's Lord From his sanctuary near thee. Out of Zion help afford ; Crown thy sacrifice with fire, 344 HACTENUS. All thy gifts remembered still, Grant thee all thy heart's desire And thy choicest wish fulfil ! We will joy in Thy salvation, And will set our banners high In our God ! — Thy supplication Be accomplished at thy cry. Now I know the Lord from heaven Saveth still his Christ from harm ; Now to Him will strength be given By the might of his right arm. Some in chariots, some on horses, — We in God Jehovah trust: And while He our sure Resource is, They are fallen in the dust: Save, Jehovah, save and hear us. King of glory. King of might ! When we call be ever near us, — Ever for thy servants fight! CONFESSION. Alas, how mauy vain and hitter things My zeal, and pride, and natural haste have wrought Yea, thou my soul, by word and deed and thought. The curse of seifishness hath scorch'd thy wings: There is a fire within, I feel it now, A smouldering mass of strong imaginings That hpat my heart, and burn upon my brow, And vent their hissing lava on my tongue, Scathing, unsparing: — yet, my will is just. My wrath is ever quickened by a wrong, A SONG. 345 I flame — to strike oppressors to the dust, To crush the cruel, and confound the base. To -welcome insolence with calm disgust, And brand the scoffer's forehead with disgrace. A SONG. Ah Memory! why reproach me so With shadows of the past, The thrilling hopes of long ago That came and went so fast^ Ye tender tones of that dear voice, Ye looks of those loved eyes, — Return, — and bid ray heart rejoice, For true love never dies! Rejoice? — O word of hope! I may When those indeed return: For looks and tones so past away In solitude I yearn! Let others fancy I forget The light of those dear eyes,— love, — O how I love thee yet! For true love never dies. ""^'WW^'WV^'V % 846 HACTENUS. CHEER UP.. FOR MUSIC. Never go gloomily, man with a mind! Hope is a better companion than fear, Providence, ever benignant and kind, Gives with a smile whp.t you take with a tear. All will be right, Look to the light, — Morning is ever the daughter of night. All that was black will be all that is bright, Cheerily, cheerily then! cheer up! Many a foe is a friend in disguise. Many a sorrow a blessing most true, Helpmg the heart to be happy and wise, With lore ever precious and joys ever new. Stand in the van ! Strive like a man I This is the bravest and cleverest plan. Trusting in God, while you do what you can, Cheerily, cheerily then ! cheer up . **TOGETHER." FOR MUSIC. The elm tree of old felt lonely and cold When wintry winds blew high. And, looking below, he saw in the snow The ivy wandering nigh; And he said. Come twine with those tendrils of thine I FRIENDS. 847 My scathed and frozen form, For heart and hand together we'll stand, And mock at the baffled storm, Ha, ha! Together. And so when grief is withering the leaf, And checking hope's young flower, And frosts do bite with their teeth so white lii disappointment's hour, Tho' it might o'erwhelm either ivy or elm If alone each stood in the strife, If heart and hand together they stand, They may laugh at the troubles of life, Ha, ha! Together. FRIENDS. I CANNOT move a mile upon this earth, * I could not, did I walk from end to end. But there I find a heart of wit and worth, Some gracious spirit to be hailed a friend : O there are frequent angels unawares. And many have I met upon my way, Kind Christian souls, to make me rich with prayers, Whilst in like coin tlieir mercies I repay; And oft the sun of praise hath lit mine eyes, Generous praise and just encouragement, From some who say I help tliem to be wise. And teach them to be happy in content: Ah soul, rejoice ! for thou hast thickly sown The living world with friendships all thine own. S48 HACTENUS. A GREETING. It were not well to vex thee wiih my praises, Yet I am quick to read thy gifts aright, Loving, sincere, and wise, — in three best phases, Young heart, I note thy characters of light; Spirits are keen to make such instant guesses ; For time is nothing to the Soul that lives ; Therefore my spirit thy good spirit blesses, Therefore my Mind its cordial greeting gives, — Its greeting ? — of a moment, sad to tell, For all my greeting is a true Farewell ! HO*R ACE'S PHILOSOPHY. III. 29. Wisely for us within night's sable veil God hides the future ; and, if men turn pale For dread distrusting, laughs their fear to scorn. For thee, the present calmly order well: All else as on a river's tide is borne. Now flowing peaceful to the Tuscan sea Down the mid-channel on a gentle swell; Now, as the hoarse, fierce mandate of the flood Stirs up the quiet stream, time-eaten rocks Go hurrying down, with houses, herds, and flocks. And echoes from the mountain and the wood. He stands alone, glad, self-possessed, and free. Who grateful for to-day can say, I live; To-morrow let my Father take or give : "THE LAST TniE." 349 IT. As He may will, not I — with dark or light Let God ordain the morrow, noon, or night. He, even He, can never render vain The past behind me ; nor bring back again What any transient hour has once made fact Fortune, rejoicing in each cruel act, And playing frowardly a saucy game, Dispenses changeful and uncertain fame. Now kind to me, and now to some beside. I praise her here : but if it should betide She spreads her wings for flight, I hold no more The good she gave, but in mine honest worth, Clad like a man, go honorably forth To seek tlie undowried portion of the poor. I '*THE LAST TIME." Another year ? another year 1 Who dare depend on other years ? The judgment of this world is near, And all its children faint for fears: Famine, pestilence, and war, Mixt with praises, prayers, and tears Civil strife and social jar, Spurr'd by pen, and stirr'd by sword, Herald Him Avho comes from far, In Elijah's fiery car. Our own returning Lord! Look around — the nations quail ! All the elements of ill Crowd like locusts on the gale, And the dark horizon fill: 850 HACTENUS. Woe to earth, and all her seed! Woe, they run to ruin still : — He that runneth well may read Texts of truth the times afford, How, in earth's extremest need Cometh, cometh soon indeed Our own redeeming Lord ! Lo, the marvels passing strange Every teeming hour brings, Daily turns with sudden change The kaleidoscope of things ; But the Ruler, just and wise. Orders all, as King of kings, — Hark! His thunders shake the skies, Lo ! His vials are outpour'd ! .Earth in bitter travail lies. And creation groans and cries For our expected Lord ! Stand in courage, stand in faith ! Tremble not as others may ; He that conquers hell and death Is the friend of those who pray > And in this world's destined woe He will save his own alway From the trial's furnace glow, — Till the harvest all is stor'd, Rescu'd from each earthly foe, And the terrible ones below. By our avenging Lord ! Yea, come quickly ! Savior, come Take us to thy glorious rest. All thy children yearn for home. Home, the heaven of thy breast Help, with instant gracious aid! That in just assurance blest. We may watch — nor feel afraid. THE POET'S WEALTH. 851 Every warning in thy word, Signs and tokens all array'd In proof of that for which we pray'd, The coming of the Lord ! THE POET'S WEALTH. I NUMBER you by thousands, unseen friends. And dearly precious is your love to me ; Yea, what a goodly company ye be ! Far as the noble brotherhood extends Of Saxon hearts and tongues o'er land and soa: How rich am I in love ! — the sweet amends For all whatever little else of pain Some few unkindly cause; — most rich in love, From mine own home to earth's remotest ends: Let me then count my store, my glorious gain. This wealth, that my poor merit far transcends, Your loving kindness, echoing from above The Highest Blessing on my works and ways, Eu Sov?.e ctyaQi, my Father's praise: Yea, let me thank you ; let my heart outpour Unbidden notes of honest gratitude To all whose yearnings follow me with good. Loving my mind and all its humble store: O generous friends ! — a cordial multitude Hived in the West, upon that busy shore Where fair Columbia, Britain's child, is thront3d Imperial, yet with empire all unowned, — O generous friends ! — another cordial band. From far Australia to the Arctic seas. And crowds around me in my own dear land, — • How, how to thank for mercies rich as these ? Lo, let me stand and bless from East to West, g6S HACTENirS. From North to South, — because I thus am blest! Aye : blest indeed above the lot of men, And rich in joys that reach the true sublime ! For that the magic-music of my pen Hath won such wealth of love in every clime. And still shall win such treasure for all time, Therefore my soul is glad : judge me, my friends, Is not the poet "wealthier in his joys Than Attains with all his golden toys ? And, as his growing dynasty extends To children's children, reigning in the mind, Is he not great, a monarch of his kind? Ah me ! not so : this thought of pride destroys : Give God the praise : His blessings send this store Of unseen friends by thousands evermore .' QEIl /I OS J, I GERALDINE, AND OTHER POEMS PREPACE. ■^/W'l^NA/WV.'^^^" INCLUDING A SKETCH OF CHRISTABEL The Christabel of Coleridge is a poem of which it is almost impossible to give shortly a fair and perfect abstract. Every word tells ; every line is a picture : sim^ilo, beautiful, and imaginative, it retains its hold upon the mind by so many delicate feelers and touching points, that to outline harshly the main branches of the tree, would seem to be doing the injustice of neglect to the elegance of its foliage, and the microscopic perfection of every single leaf. Those who now read it for the first time, will scarcely be disposed to assent t: so much praise ; but the man to whom it is familiiir, will remember he v it has grown to his own liking, how much of melody, depth, nature, a_ d invention, he has found from time to time hiding in some simple phrase, or unobtrusive epithet. Most gladly, therefore, do I refer my readers to the Christabel itself, however it may tell to the disadvantage of Geraldine : at the same time, inasmuch as there may bo many to whom the sequel will be obscure, from having had no opportiinity of perusing the prior poem, I trust I shall be pardoned, if, in consulting the interest of some of my readers, I mar the fair memory of Christabel by a sketch so imperfect, as only to serve the purpose of explaining myself. The heroine of Coleridge is a " blue-eyed " gu-1, ♦' O call her fair, not pale ; " and is introduced as " prajing in the midnight wood," *' beneath the huge oak tree," " for the weal of her lover that's ^ar away." "\\'Tiil€ thus engaged, she is startled by " moanings," and on the " other side of the oak," finds " a damsel bright " " in sore distress " and " weariness ; " in fact, the dark-eyed (ioraldine, whose sudden api)earance is by herself very suspiciously explained. Christabel, "comforting her," takes he' 850 PREFACE. home to Langdalc-Hall, the castle of Sir Leoline, where the howl of " the mastiff-bitch " seems to bode evil, and some wild expressions addressed by Geraldine to Christabel's " guardian spirit," her dead mother (whe had *' said that she should he ir the castlo-bell strike twelve upon her [daughter's] wedding day"), gives the first clue to the wicked and supernatural character of Geraldine. The maidens now retiring to rest together, the beautiful stranger's " bosom and half her side," — " old " " and cold," suggest vague alarms, and " for an hour " Christabel in " her arms " is dreaming fearfully, — from which state of terror she is delivered by her guardian mother. The second part opens with the introduction of Geraldine to Sir Leo- line, who recognises in the " lofty lady," the daughter of his once " friend in youth," " Roiand de Vaujc, of Tryermaine," who had parted from Sir Leoline many years ago "in disdain and insult." At her tale, (Avhich I am pleased to consider a fabrication, as also the likeness to Roland's daughter to be a piece of witchcraft,) the Baron is highly indignant, and vows to avenge ** the child of his friend." IMeanwliile, poor Christabel is under a mysterious spell, subjected to " perplexity of mind," ** a vision of fear," and " snake-like looks " of the rival beauty ; albeit " comforted " by a " vision blest." Sir Leoline, glad of the opportunity of a reconciliation to his long-lost friend, sends '• Bracy the card," %Aith " harp " and " solemn vest," by " Irt-(bing) flood," &c., to Roland's border- castle, commissioning him to *' greet Lord Roland," acquaint him that " his daughter is safe in Langdale-Hall," and bidding him " come " with " all his numerous array " to meet Sir Leoline " with his o^vn numerous array, v.'^ "panting palfreys," and to be friends once more. " Bard Bracy " hesitates, on account of having dreamt that Christabel — " the dove " — had " a green snake " " coiled around its wings and neck," " underneath the old tree ; " and having " vowed," " with music strong and saintly song," to exorcise the forest. The Baron interprets it as of " Lord Roland's beauteous dove," and when Christabel, who had ever and anon been tortured by '» looks askance " of " dull and treacherous hate," entreats him by her " mother's soul to send away that woman," he, accounting '• his child " jealous of the radiant stranger, and no doubt alienated by black arts from his daughter, as the lover is afterwards, seems full of wrath, and, " in tones abrupt, austere," sends the reluctant Bracy on his mission. Thus for Christabel : for the " Conclusion to part the serond," how- ever beautiful in itself, is clearly out of place, unless it was intended as a mystification. And now, on my own pirtion, I may be permitted to make a few PREFACE. 357 lemarks. ]My excuse for contimiing the fragment at all, will be found in Coleridge's own words to the preface of the 1816 pamplilet edition, where he says, " I trust that I shall be able to embody in verse the three parts yet to come, in the course of the present year ; " a half- promise, which, I need scarcely observe, has never been redeemed. In the following attempt I may be censured for rashness, or com- mended for courage : of course, I am fully aware that to take up the pen where Coleridge has laid it down, — and that in the wildest and most original of his poems, — is a most difficult, nay, dangerous proceeding : but, upon these very characteristics of difficulty and danger I humbly rely ; trusting that, in all proper consideration for the boldness of the experiment, if I be adjudged to fail, the fall of Icarus may be broken ; if I be accounted to succeed, the flight of Daedalus may apologize for his presxunption. I deem it due to myself to add what I trust will not be turned against me, viz. : that, if not written literally currente calamo, Geraldine has been the pleasant labor of but very few days : also, that until I had just completed it, I did not know of the existence of the proposed solution of Christabel in a recent life of Coleridge, and at that period saw no reason to make any change in mine : and finally, that I should wish to be judged bv the whole volume, and not by Geraxdine alone. M. r. T. GERALDINE. PART I. (being the third of christabel.) It is the wolf on stealthy prowl, Hath startled the night with a dismal howl, It is the raven, whose hoarse croak Comes like a groan from the sear old oak, It is the owl, whose curdling screech Hath peopled with terrors the spectral beech ; For again the clock hath tolled out twelve, And sent to their gambols the gnome and the elve And awoken the friar his beads to tell, And taught the magician the time for his spell, And to her cauldron hath hurried the witch, And aroused the deep bay of the mastiff bitch. The gibbous moon, all chilling and wan, Like a sleepless eyeball looketh on, Like an eyeball of sorrow behind a shroud Forth looketh she from a torn grey cloud. Pouring sad radiance on the black air, — Sun of the night, — what sees she there ? O lonely one, O lovely one. What dost thou here in the forest dun, Fair truant, like an angel of light 360 GERALDINE. Hiding from heaven in deep midnight? Alas! there is guilt in tljy glittering eye, As fearfully dark i^ looks up to the sky ; Alas ! a dull unearthly light Like a dead star, bluely white ; A seal of sin, I note it now, Flickers upon thy ghastly brow ; And about the huge old oak Thickly curls a poisonous smoke, And terrible shapes with evil names Are leaping around a circle of flames. And the tost air whirls, storm-driven, ' And the rent earth quakes, charm-riven, — And — art thou not afraid ? All dauntless stands the maid In mystical robe array'd, And still Avith flashing eyes She dares the sorrowful skies. And to the moon, like one possest, Hath shown, — O dread ! that face so fair Should smile above so shrunk a breast, Haggard and brown, as hangeth there, — O evil sight, wrinkled and old, The dug of a witch, and clammy cold, — Where in warm beauty's rarest mould Is fashioned all the rest ; O evil sight ! for, by the light From those large eyes streaming bright, By thy beauty's wondrous sheen. Lofty gait and graceful mien. By that bosom half reveal'd, Wither'd, and as in deatli congeal'd. By the guilt upon thy brow. Ah ! Geraldine, 'tis thou Muttering wildly through her set teeth. She seeketh and stirretli the demons beneath, And — hist ! — the magical mandate is spoken. GERALDINE. 361 The bon^s of the spirit of evil are broken, There is a rush of invisible wings Amid shrieks and distant thunderings, And now one nearer than others is heard Flapping his way as a huge seabird, Or liker the deep-dwelling ravenous shark Cleaving through the waters dark. It is the hour, the spell hath power! Now haste thee, ere the tempest lower. Her mouth grows wide, and her face falls in, And her beautiful brow becomes flat and thin, And sulphurous flaslies blear and singe That sweetest of eyes with its delicate fringe, Till, all its loveliness blasted and dead. The eye of a snake blinks deep in her head ; For raven locks flowing loose and long Bristles a red mane, stiff and strong, And sea-green scales are beginning to speck Her shrunken breasts, and lengthening neck ; The white round arms are sunk in her sides, — As when in chrysalis canoe A may-fly down the river glides. Struggling for life and liberty too, — Her body convulsively twists and twirls. This way and that it bows and curls. And now her soft limbs melt into one Strangely and horribly tapering down, Till on the burnt grass dimly is seen A serpent monster, scaly and green. Horror ! — can this be Geraldine ? Haste, O haste, — 'tis almost past, The sand is dripping thick and fast; And distant roars the coming blast. Swiftly the dragon-maid unroll'd The burnished strength of each sinewv